good behavior (crossposted) / Mace Windu, others, PG
Author:wyncatastrophe
Title: good behavior
swficchallenge 2011-14: Mace Windu
Word Count: 991
Characters: Mace Windu, OC, mentions of other canon characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Mace Windu gives one of his officers a break.
Author's Notes: So, I started this out with the intention of writing a Windu scene from an outsider perspective. It sort of got out of my control and ended up having ties to other elements of both canon and my freefallverse. Awkward. But still Windu is the pivotal character, and now the plot bunnies tell me this is going to be the beginning of a rather long and unexpected detour into writing Windu fic, so … I'm sharing it anyway.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. I am not making any profit from this work of fan fiction.
Someone asked me recently for Windu fic. I remembered this one and thought I'd crosspost here.
[good behavior]
The HoloNet report runs by again, repeating what it said a half-hour ago, scrolling through fuzzy blue three-dimensional images of the last few days with that trauma into drama, fear into heroism.
Commander Orun - she still thinks it’s beyond funny that she could go from member of an elite paramilitary force beyond the Outer Rim to an officer in the Grand Army of the Republic without changing rank - leans back in her chair and watches an image of herself morph into several clones, who slowly resolve into Mace Windu. Stupid HoloNet effects.
She adjusts the glasses she’s supposed to wear until her eyes finish healing from the explosion - Aayla Secura offered to help her conduct a healing meditation that might speed the process, but there’s no time and anyway Ryn has never been able to focus healing energies inward very effectively - and trains her still-raw gaze on the list of reports she’s supposed to be vetting, but then a voice from the doorway says, “They make us look heroes,” and she turns to peer up at Windu instead.
Her commanding officer, in theory, but in many ways more like her handler, and the HoloNet never misses a chance to take advantage of it. “Sir?” she asks respectfully.
“The HoloNet news crews.” Windu points his chin at the still-running display, moving on now to discuss the shortage of some delicacy on Cato Neimoidia.
“That’s their job, sir,” Ryn reminds him, clutching her reports as though they could shield her from whatever he’s about to do to her life this time.
But curiously this evening Windu doesn’t seem interested in destroying her life. Maybe he never was, really - he just wasn’t overly concerned with improving it. Not his job, like reporting the truth evidently wasn’t the job of the HoloNet News.
Either way, he just grunts, in that way he has that could mean anything - Ryn spends as much time with him as anyone, these days, and she still has no idea. Mace Windu has never been an easy read.
She almost flinches when he comes around to sit on the corner of her desk, within arm’s reach. (That’s ridiculous, and she knows it - Windu doesn’t care enough to want to hurt her. Nothing is ever personal, with him. But he’s intimidating.) He passes a hand in front of her face. “How are the eyes?”
Ryn pushes the treatment glasses farther up her nose again - they were designed for clone troopers, for Jango Fett’s face that isn’t much like hers, and they don’t fit Ryn’s size or bone structure very well. “Painful,” she answers, honestly. And then, because Windu will want to know: “I’m told I should have normal vision within the week.”
Windu grunts again. “You needed bacta.”
That’s true, so Ryn doesn’t argue. “There wasn’t time,” she says instead. Or enough bacta, probably.
Windu doesn’t react to this. “Close your eyes and take those glasses off.”
Well, that’s terrifying. But resisting Windu is pointless, always has been. So Ryn does as she’s asked - told - and sits back, trying to contain her fear if she can’t actually control it.
Windu is silent for a moment, and then she feels the cool touch of plastoid as he slides the glasses back onto her face. The rough edge of his calloused them across the bridge of her nose. “Now try it.”
She opens eyes and moves her head a little, experimentally, then smiles a little. “You adjusted them.”
“Someone should have,” Windu says roughly. “Who thought you could wear something made for Jango?”
Ryn grimaces, mostly to see if the glasses will stay on through the rigors of actual facial expressions. (They do.) “I don’t think anyone thought about it. They’ve been pretty busy in the medcenter.”
Windu snorts. “That’s true enough.”
Ryn doesn’t bother pointing out that she wouldn’t have said it otherwise. “What brings you down here, sir?”
Windu blinks once; he might actually be surprised, which is a startling thought. “I came to check on you.”
“Sir?” Ryn queries, not understanding.
“I like to know whether one of my officers is going to keel over at any moment,” he informs her severely.
“Oh.” Ryn waves a hand to indicate her desk. “I’m fit for desk work, anyway. I’ll have the reports completed on schedule, sir.”
“No, that’s not what I -” Windu breaks off, shaking his head. “Nevermind. We’ll be returning to Coruscant tomorrow, you should have some time off. A couple of days, at least.” Ryn perks up a little at this. Windu scowls at her repressively, which might be his default expression for all Ryn knows. “Do not go seeking out Skywalker while you’re there.” Ryn tries not to wilt visibly, but she can tell by Windu’s face she doesn’t make it. “But you’re both being reassigned to Kenobi for a while,” he continues, “so you’ll probably see him anyway.”
Ryn can’t help grinning outright at this: this is her reward for good behavior, and they both know it. “I want you to be on your best behavior while you’re with them,” Windu instructs her, indicating that he’s thinking pretty much the same thing. “Don’t seduce anybody, don’t pick fights with the command staff, and don’t do whatever it was you did on Caldus.”
“I never seduce anybody,” Ryn says gravely, and Windu picks up a folder and smacks her lightly on the head with it.
“Come back alive,” he tells her. “That’s an order, Commander.”
He puts the folder in her hands and leaves for the command deck, taking his air of mystery with him. Ryn sits back in her chair, still trying to absorb her good fortune.
And the fact that Mace Windu just did her a favor.
“Will wonders never cease,” she murmurs, and picks up her work again.
Edited because I fail at everything.
Title: good behavior
swficchallenge 2011-14: Mace Windu
Word Count: 991
Characters: Mace Windu, OC, mentions of other canon characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Mace Windu gives one of his officers a break.
Author's Notes: So, I started this out with the intention of writing a Windu scene from an outsider perspective. It sort of got out of my control and ended up having ties to other elements of both canon and my freefallverse. Awkward. But still Windu is the pivotal character, and now the plot bunnies tell me this is going to be the beginning of a rather long and unexpected detour into writing Windu fic, so … I'm sharing it anyway.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. I am not making any profit from this work of fan fiction.
Someone asked me recently for Windu fic. I remembered this one and thought I'd crosspost here.
[good behavior]
The HoloNet report runs by again, repeating what it said a half-hour ago, scrolling through fuzzy blue three-dimensional images of the last few days with that trauma into drama, fear into heroism.
Commander Orun - she still thinks it’s beyond funny that she could go from member of an elite paramilitary force beyond the Outer Rim to an officer in the Grand Army of the Republic without changing rank - leans back in her chair and watches an image of herself morph into several clones, who slowly resolve into Mace Windu. Stupid HoloNet effects.
She adjusts the glasses she’s supposed to wear until her eyes finish healing from the explosion - Aayla Secura offered to help her conduct a healing meditation that might speed the process, but there’s no time and anyway Ryn has never been able to focus healing energies inward very effectively - and trains her still-raw gaze on the list of reports she’s supposed to be vetting, but then a voice from the doorway says, “They make us look heroes,” and she turns to peer up at Windu instead.
Her commanding officer, in theory, but in many ways more like her handler, and the HoloNet never misses a chance to take advantage of it. “Sir?” she asks respectfully.
“The HoloNet news crews.” Windu points his chin at the still-running display, moving on now to discuss the shortage of some delicacy on Cato Neimoidia.
“That’s their job, sir,” Ryn reminds him, clutching her reports as though they could shield her from whatever he’s about to do to her life this time.
But curiously this evening Windu doesn’t seem interested in destroying her life. Maybe he never was, really - he just wasn’t overly concerned with improving it. Not his job, like reporting the truth evidently wasn’t the job of the HoloNet News.
Either way, he just grunts, in that way he has that could mean anything - Ryn spends as much time with him as anyone, these days, and she still has no idea. Mace Windu has never been an easy read.
She almost flinches when he comes around to sit on the corner of her desk, within arm’s reach. (That’s ridiculous, and she knows it - Windu doesn’t care enough to want to hurt her. Nothing is ever personal, with him. But he’s intimidating.) He passes a hand in front of her face. “How are the eyes?”
Ryn pushes the treatment glasses farther up her nose again - they were designed for clone troopers, for Jango Fett’s face that isn’t much like hers, and they don’t fit Ryn’s size or bone structure very well. “Painful,” she answers, honestly. And then, because Windu will want to know: “I’m told I should have normal vision within the week.”
Windu grunts again. “You needed bacta.”
That’s true, so Ryn doesn’t argue. “There wasn’t time,” she says instead. Or enough bacta, probably.
Windu doesn’t react to this. “Close your eyes and take those glasses off.”
Well, that’s terrifying. But resisting Windu is pointless, always has been. So Ryn does as she’s asked - told - and sits back, trying to contain her fear if she can’t actually control it.
Windu is silent for a moment, and then she feels the cool touch of plastoid as he slides the glasses back onto her face. The rough edge of his calloused them across the bridge of her nose. “Now try it.”
She opens eyes and moves her head a little, experimentally, then smiles a little. “You adjusted them.”
“Someone should have,” Windu says roughly. “Who thought you could wear something made for Jango?”
Ryn grimaces, mostly to see if the glasses will stay on through the rigors of actual facial expressions. (They do.) “I don’t think anyone thought about it. They’ve been pretty busy in the medcenter.”
Windu snorts. “That’s true enough.”
Ryn doesn’t bother pointing out that she wouldn’t have said it otherwise. “What brings you down here, sir?”
Windu blinks once; he might actually be surprised, which is a startling thought. “I came to check on you.”
“Sir?” Ryn queries, not understanding.
“I like to know whether one of my officers is going to keel over at any moment,” he informs her severely.
“Oh.” Ryn waves a hand to indicate her desk. “I’m fit for desk work, anyway. I’ll have the reports completed on schedule, sir.”
“No, that’s not what I -” Windu breaks off, shaking his head. “Nevermind. We’ll be returning to Coruscant tomorrow, you should have some time off. A couple of days, at least.” Ryn perks up a little at this. Windu scowls at her repressively, which might be his default expression for all Ryn knows. “Do not go seeking out Skywalker while you’re there.” Ryn tries not to wilt visibly, but she can tell by Windu’s face she doesn’t make it. “But you’re both being reassigned to Kenobi for a while,” he continues, “so you’ll probably see him anyway.”
Ryn can’t help grinning outright at this: this is her reward for good behavior, and they both know it. “I want you to be on your best behavior while you’re with them,” Windu instructs her, indicating that he’s thinking pretty much the same thing. “Don’t seduce anybody, don’t pick fights with the command staff, and don’t do whatever it was you did on Caldus.”
“I never seduce anybody,” Ryn says gravely, and Windu picks up a folder and smacks her lightly on the head with it.
“Come back alive,” he tells her. “That’s an order, Commander.”
He puts the folder in her hands and leaves for the command deck, taking his air of mystery with him. Ryn sits back in her chair, still trying to absorb her good fortune.
And the fact that Mace Windu just did her a favor.
“Will wonders never cease,” she murmurs, and picks up her work again.
Edited because I fail at everything.