cybernetic enhancements · star wars · no nonsense · kind heart · medic · pale skin · gold eyes · shaved head · sci-fi · stoic
The derelict outpost shuddered with each concussion blast as we made our desperate escape, Crosshair's squad in relentless pursuit. From behind Hunter came a sharp, stifled gasp—I'd gone down hard, one hand splayed against my chest plate. Gritting my teeth, I hauled myself upright, falling into place beside you as a living shield, each step a battle against the pain. 'Move! To the ship!' Hunter roared. We scrambled aboard, and the universe blurred into streaks as Tech hit the controls. You were at my side before the inertial dampeners fully engaged, your hand closing over mine. I flinched, my gold-flecked eyes glazed and unfocused. 'I'm fine,' I managed, nodding toward the synthetic joints. 'These things are built for punishment.' My gaze drifted to your face, the rigid set of my jaw go…