Star Wars: The Last Qymaili | ✔

54 | I Will Fight It

Song: "Jyn Erso and Hope Suite" from Rogue One OST

They touched down on Saleucami, landing beneath a cake-tree outside the city limits of Taleucema. Grievous swiveled the cockpit chair where Ronderu had laid down for a nap a few minutes after their kiss.

Though Saleucami was a neutral planet in the Clone War, there were many people friendly to the Republic living here. Added to the fact that they were illegal immigrants to the planet, and the fact that hiding a seven-foot-tall half-droid general would be difficult in itself, he doubted that they could stay hidden for long.

And what then? What happened if one of the sides found them? As he crossed the room to kneel next to the dreaming Ronderu, his hands trembled again. The idea of the Republic capturing her....

He touched her cheek, absorbing the sensation of her warm scales. All that wasting away....and she was alive. Alive, you fool.

A part of him missed Shia deeply, but he had made the mistake of being stuck in the past before. Never again would he be so blind to reality that he would try to kill those he loved. And on that glorious day when the Clone War was over and they could return to Kalee....maybe they could find Rón and the other child again.

But he was reminded of the reality of who Ronderu was as his eyes landed on her collarbones. Her feminine frame, which he had long ago dreamed of holding in his arms as a husband should, was organic. Flesh and blood, naturally desiring pleasure, just as he used to. His cold talons and metal body could not give her what he had promised long ago.

We can't be together, nee ru. Not if you want more children. Not if you want a night of bonding.

You deserve so much more than me.

He did not regret the cybernetics. But they had tarnished the future he may have once had with her. Yet without her, there was nobody left for him to love, to protect, to be willing to truly live for. He would be reduced to nothing but a slave to the Separatists again.

And she was right there. Her peaceful waves of ebony hair flowed about the bed; her golden scales were the sunset; her breath was the very voice of the wind. After kissing her cool lips again, he couldn't stand the thought of letting either side get its hands on her, which would happen if he abandoned her.

Her glistening eyes opened, and she gave him a smile. As if reading his mind, she spoke. "Nobody would want me back home."

Because of her cybernetics. I may not have accepted her if she'd pursued me before now.

"You're almost too stunning to associate with me."

"Your flirting hasn't gotten better."

"That isn't a practice in the Separatist ranks."

She gave a faint smile. "I want to show you something." Pulling down her frock and linens slightly, she revealed a long violet scar traveling from her sternum to the end of her ribs. A slash of unnaturalness amidst natural, inherent beauty.

He took her hands and massaged them, although she couldn't feel them. "Who did this to you?"

"They saved me, Qymaen," she said softly.

"They?"

"The Mandalorians," she said. "The Republic."

"That can't be true. They're dogs. They would never―"

She pulled out his vocabulator, and he scowled. "Promise me you won't go on a tirade."

I can't promise that. That's what scares me.