*** GREATSTORM, THE CLONE WAR ***

(@GREATSTORM on Wattpad)

Commander Soren wasn’t sure what was more terrifying—getting Force-choked by Asajj Ventress, or standing next to General Maya Greatstorm.

Cold as winter. Steady as stone. But oddly quick to irritation.

Yet, there was comfort in her presence. When his insomnia crept in during long nights aboard the Venator, he’d find himself at her quarters. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes they didn’t. Just being near her was enough to quiet the storm inside him.

But the feeling—it was stronger than he liked to admit.

After Lieutenant BatCall's death, Soren stood in the briefing room, holding his helmet next to his hip with his right hand, his face unreadable, but his body spoke of grief.

Then came the question again, the one that was starting to sting more than help.

"Are you alright, Commander?"

“I’m doing okay. I told you, Sir,” he muttered.

But this time, he saw it—her expression faltering. Even if slightly. Not cold. Not stern. Something else.

Empathy. Maybe even... compassion.

And somehow, that made it even harder to hold himself together.