Star Wars: Imagines

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Prompt:
Fox talks the mercenary group into attacking the droid base.

Not a Request ♥︎

Part 2! Deserter

She/Her❥

2nd POV
♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

               The fact that Fox decided to stay made you unexplainably happy. The rest of The Grey Morning wasn't too hard to convince of his loyalty over the fact how he was going to risk his own life to take out a Seppie base that according to him, the Republic didn't even know about. Gun Oil was exceptionally happy, even going the length to lend the Clone some weaponry,

               "Pick whatever catches your eye," your childhood friend commented while excitedly patting Fox's shoulder, "We're leaving soon, so maybe try to hurry. But no pressure."

               The Clone just nodded and began skimming through the weaponry in surprise, "The Republic was aware of The Grey Morning's existence, but I can promise you we had no idea of the level of your weaponry. If you wanted to, you could pose a threat. A huge problem, if you will."

                "That's not a problem, right?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow up in confusion, "We're a mercenary group anyways, we wouldn't attack anything without payment, and even if someone payed us to attack Republic forces, I doubt Hawk would allow it."

You could practically see the nervousness leave Fox's body, which honestly didn't surprise you. Although he was indeed a deserter, he more than likely still loved his brothers involved with the war, and would do anything to protect them. Just the fact that you reassured him that he wouldn't have to fight his old family probably set him at ease,

"You have a plan for this Separatist Base?" he asked, changing the subject.

                "No, that's not my job," you chuckled, picking up a Kal Dagger and swinging it around, "Gun Oil is sorta in charge of the planning when it comes to missions. Hawk is the one who comes up with our strategies. You're here to help us devise a Republic-level plan."

                Fox nodded, his helmet hitched under his arm, "Sounds good enough to me. Now, let me take a look at these beauties."

                The Clone bent down and began looking at the various weapons that your family had collected over the years. Blasters, snipers, knives, throwable items, you name it. Grasping a simple blaster, the man slides it onto his belt beside his original weapon. Glancing over to you, and frowned a bit and straightened up,

               "Where's your weapon?" he asked, brushing his shining-white armor from the dust it had accumulated.

                  Sheathing the Kal Dagger, you tossed it towards the man; him swiftly catching it in his grasp, "That's all I need. Blasters are too noisy anyways."

                 "Awfully risky, especially for missions like these. Separatists aren't flesh and blood, they're scrap metal. Knives would hardly do anything, wouldn't you think?" the Clone questioned, turning the blade around curiously in his palm.

                  Snatching your weapon back up from him, you clicked your tongue, smirking, "Fox, this is a Kal Dagger. It's made by the strongest Beskar Metals in the galaxy, forged by the most talented in the Mandalorian Clans. Scrap metal isn't going to stand a chance against my little knife," you smirked, twirling it through your fingers daringly.

                 Fox shrugged and smirked, "Suit yourself. I still don't think that little knife will do much against the droids, but I've been wrong before. Let's hope I don't have to swoop in and rescue you."