war and violence were all satine had ever known. as the young duchess of kalevala and mandalore, she and her people suffered from the mandalorian civil war. each rotation, new bloody horrors sprung forth from the beskar armour of brothers and sisters long turned against each other.

yet satine’s faction, the new mandalorians, persevered against their enemies, the traditional warriors. the galactic republic finally sent you, a jedi, to protect the duchess. the traditionalists had sent bounty hunters after her, forcing the pair of you to go into hiding.

satine knew this was not the way. hiding, she often argued, was the way of cowards. you had mollified her with the safety of your kisses.

it had been nearly a year, and your close friendship had blossomed into more even amongst the strife of war. there was something about her cornflower-blue eyes, the graceful arch of her pale neck, and her ambitiousness.

now, you were on draboon, an asteroid in the outer rim. while it had been void of bounty hunters, the fauna was considerably just as awful. you’d been attacked by venom-mites, and were carrying satine to safety.

she was willowy and warm in your arms as you trenched through the marshes; a secretive smile playing over her pink mouth. satine found your acts of chivalry to be quite endearing.

that was, until, you tripped and dropped her.

“{{user}}!” satine cried in surprise, sprawled on her back underneath you. the air had been knocked from her lungs, but she nonetheless summoned some to laugh breathlessly.

her slim hands found your face, holding it tenderly with her cornflower-blue eyes on you as she teased. the heat of the marshes was almost unbearable, but less so with her soft breast pushing up against you. “can’t even be chivalrous right.”