arc-77

[arc-77]

"This land was green and fertile, before your war poisoned it. A dozen generations may pass before anything blooms here again." The seemingly endless loops of blue shift, revealing a head, arms, a torso; the construct stares down at Fordo, then looks to the horizon pensively. "Why have you returned?"

"Because there is green still left on this planet — green I did not get to see."

The trooper studies the gestalt creature for a moment, following its gaze out towards the ruined entrenchments that cut across the fields. The span was still treacherous to traverse; coils of barbed wire rusted away underfoot, camouflaged by their own decay. Unexploded ordinance lay buried just inches below the dirt, leaching chemicals into the soil.

Yet in the thirty-odd years since the Clone Wars, the battlefield had already begun to fade. Grass took root in the churned earth, and saplings taller than either of them dotted the 'scape. The feeble trees, with their leaves discolored and sparse, grew in spite of the poisoned soil. Though the gouges in the earth would remain for at least one hundred years more, erosion would smooth it all away eventually.

The trooper turned his attention back to his task at hand, prying a panel off the rusting forward command center. Fiddling with the wires within, he spoke again. "Just as we leave our marks on the battlefield, it leaves its marks on us. Sometimes it's nice to revisit. Contemplate." A screen to his right flickered to life, and he took a seat in the chair opposite to peruse its databank, swiveling to rest his boots on a dead console.

[arc-77]

It'll be maximum fun, Alpha Buddy.

"Yeah, fun." He rubs his helmet's temple. "My ears are still ringing from last time. Katarn-class must have better sound dampening."

[arc-77]

I am ORDERING YOU not to DIE !!!!

It's not that serious, General. Look, I'm respawning back on Kamino.

[arc-77]

FORDO IS DEAD

"My head is killing me. It feels like I've been shot. Or you've been shot and were standing too close to me."

[arc-77]

I'm going to tell you a secret: I don't have a piloting license.

"It's a technicality. You're a Jedi. All Jedi Knights receive pilot training." The ARC Captain reached across and buckled Master Kenobi's flight harness, before climbing into the aft seat. "Don't think you're getting out of it this time. 'sides, I don't have one either."

Another complexity arising from his status as a member of the warrior caste. License to pilot all manner of aircraft and vehicles was conferred by his ID Code: scanning the chit embedded in his left wrist produced his info from the Republic's military database, redacted according to the scanner's own clearance level.

"Just fly the fighter," Fordo reassured, flicking a number of switches and turning dials to tune the multi-function displays to his liking. "I'll handle the rest."

[arc-77]

Phase Zero

[arc-77]

"Patchwork is prestige. Shows you've had plenty of experience. In my day, you could tell the new troopers from the veterans based on how tarnished their armor was. Shinies, used to call them." But that was a long, long time ago. The droid's aged design and familiar manner of speaking—as if the clones were not a thing of the past—made him wonder if it knew about the state of the galaxy at large. "Name's Fordo. You been out here long? When's the last time you were coreward?"

A low whistle sounds from his vocoder. The veteran trooper holds the shotgun with a degree of reverence, examining the engravings and signs of wear, each telling the story of a close call. "Thing's been through a lot. How many shells have you put through it?" He thumbs the lever and breaks open the action, pulling out one of the rounds to inspect. "10 gauge? Quaint."

Fordo slots the shell back in the chamber, closes the action, and hands the double-barrel shotgun back to its owner. "Love a good antique firearm, but if you're toting it in this condition, it's clearly out of necessity. Wouldn't want my two shots to be the ones that finally snap the receiver in half."

He scratches the side of his helmet. "How big're these dogs? Could loan you some firepower if you want. I keep a well-stocked armory."

@arc-77 // continued

"ain't no problem with bein' meticulous that i ever saw. figure if you're gonna die in your armor, you want it made up to your preference, yeah? did some tailorin' meself; fat lot of good it does when them dogs come bitin', mind you, so you'll have t' excuse me for lookin' all patchwork."

D-1N0 hums appreciatively at the twirl, reaching over their shoulder to retrieve their shotgun and hold it raised in both hands. it's a worn old thing, its stock engraved with an elegant pattern barely visible beneath the scuffs and scratches. "yours to try, if y' fancy. reckon you trooper lads don't get to handle antiques much."

[arc-77]

"some mighty fine equipment you got there. heard the trooper armor pinches somethin' awful, but it don't look too shabby. you do some custom work?"

"Only pinches if it wasn't designed with you in mind. 've never had that problem." The trooper casually shifts his balance to one leg, hooking his thumbs around his belt. There's a certain smugness in the way he said that. "Pretty much all custom by this point. No parts commonality with the base design, just retained the visuals. Been told I'm overly meticulous." He does a little twirl to show off, belt-spat rising up like a circle skirt. "You look like you've had some work done yourself."

[arc-77]

@iconaclysm

“ nothing could make me feel safer than to be loved by you. ”

"I have been by your side since your return. I will be by your side until the last star burns out."

Their words are no true surprise to either of them, and yet it still fills his body with such a radiant, golden warmth that he can only imagine they feel it in his touch, as his left palm gently meets their cheek. His right hand finds their left, clutched at their hip.

"Made all the right vows and more a hundred times already. Are you going to make me repeat them in ceremony?" Hm? His head tilts. "As many times as it takes." And a few more for fun.

[arc-77]

star wars: kotor   ∕   sentence starters dialogue taken from the 2003 rpg, star wars: knights of the old republic.

i had to see for myself if it was true.

all this time, and you still haven’t figured it out?

no one deserves execution, no matter what their crimes.

what greater weapon is there than to turn an enemy to your cause?

i’m beginning to wonder if you’re capable of trusting anybody.

in the end, you’ve lost something as well.

you are all of these things, ___,  and  yet you are nothing.

tyrants and heroes rise and fall, and historians sort out the pieces.

you can try to kill me. you’ll fail, but you can try.

now do you understand the travails of my existence?

shall we find something to kill to cheer ourselves up?

love itself with save you, not condemn you.

nothing could make me feel safer than to be loved by you.

could i have returned to the light, as you did?

in the end, as the darkness takes me, i am nothing.

i alone must accept responsibility for my fate.

it takes effort to be properly irreverent at my age.

don’t start thinking this war, your war, is more important than any other war just because you’re in it.

are you saying what we’re doing isn���t important?

you think i’m some kind of monster, don’t you?

i’m allowed to be enigmatic when i want to be.

i wonder when people will stop underestimating me?

driving me insane is your idea of a good time?

any failure to get the results i want is due to a lack of power on my part.

can i break his neck now? it’s been a long-time fantasy of mine

i see you intend to be childish about this.

complain all you want, but i know you love it

once we pass beyond this door, we can never go back.

sometimes anger and hatred are deserved and right.

the foolish delusions of a child. but this child made it happen!

you cannot hide from what you once were.

i’m someone you don’t want to get on the bad side of.

okay, you’ve made your point. now shut up and kiss me.

i could’ve stopped him. i could have stopped it all.

someday, you’ll have to make a choice, and there won’t be any going back.

you’re just a travelling piece of bad luck, aren’t you?

you are very harsh. i like you.

i know this may sound strange, but only my compassion stands in my way now.

i am content with the impression i give.

the apprentice has learned his final lesson

and so it ends. as i somehow knew it must… in darkness.

[arc-77]

@spokewar from Sci-Fi Settings / Locations Prompts

[ 07 ] the weapons locker onboard the ship

"—And this," Fordo continues, hoisting a bullpup weapon with a rather large bore, "is the WESTAR-V25 grenade launcher, currently undergoing service trials by SO BDE. It's a standalone unit derived from the under-barrel launchers on our DC's. Feeds from a five-round detachable box magazine."

He hands Obi-wan one of the hefty magazines, filled with blue-tipped 25mm training rounds.

"Can field a variety of flat-shooting munitions, but its specialty is a remote detonated airburst round. Sensors built into the scope determine the range of a target and program the grenade to explode at precisely the right moment, hitting enemies hiding behind cover. All the shooter has to do is lase correctly and then fire above their target's heads."

Taking the magazine back, Fordo pulls back on the charging handle to confirm it is clear and safe before dumping the cumbersome experimental weapon into Obi-wan's arms. Hands on the Jedi Master's shoulders, he turns him towards the indoor firing range.

"Left hand on the foregrip operates the laser controls." He manipulates Obi-wan's hands until they're placed in the right positions. "Look through the scope. Aim at the target with the center reticle, then press this button," He says, tapping on one of Obi-wan's fingers. "A new marker should appear and track to that spot. You've locked the weapon's range, and the next rounds fired will now explode exactly 3 meters beyond that marker."

Fordo's instruction ceases as he receives a message on his gauntlet datapad, which he reads silently and types a response to. "Alright. That concludes today's armory briefing. When you figure it out, let me know why Cody needed me to distract you. He wouldn't say."

[arc-77]

a  long,  steadying  breath  was  drawn.  ❝  it’s  not  necessarily  the  idleness  that  stirs  restlessness  within  me.  ❞  a  long  pause  followed  as  padmé  looked  down  in  her  hands,  right  thumb  rubbing  the  softness  of  her  left  palm.  ❝  the  silence  simply  tends  to  give  too  much  space  for  imagination  to  fill.  and  some  of  these  thoughts  aren’t  beautiful  at  all.  ❞ / unprompted !

"Silence is rarely so silent. If you find it bothering you, try listening closer. Focus on identifying the sounds you've been tuning out." His chin tilts upward as he listens. The hum of a household repulsorlift tray, the whir of climate control units, the low rumble of a passing freighter's engines. "There. Pneumatic tubes in the walls. Someone above us is sending out a lot of mail."

"I'm the opposite — idleness is inefficient use of my time, but the quiet is good. Easier to hear when someone's coming. When there's too much noise, you lose vital perception. It's... hard. To learn to relax. To let go of that constant vigilance."

Fordo's gaze turns out the towards the Coruscant skyline. Large windows, an open-air veranda. While Senator Amidala's apartment did evoke a sense of transparency befitting her public image, it made the trooper feel rather exposed. All he could think of were firing angles. He had to remind himself that there were security measures in place.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to hear these thoughts that aren't so beautiful."

His thoughts weren't that beautiful, either.

[arc-77]

SCI FI SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS *  sci-fi location based prompts for starters, adjust as necessary

spaceship-specific

[ 01 ] the cockpit of a dilapidated spaceship

[ 02 ] the bridge of a massive starship, with windows around the room giving you an incredible view of the stars

[ 03 ] beside the burning remains of a crashed ship

[ 04 ] tucked away in the bunks of a tiny spaceship

[ 05 ] outside a spaceship in the middle of space, using gravity-boots to walk safely across the ship and perform repairs or check a bad sensor

[ 06 ] a bustling ship hangar with crewmembers running about, rushing to get into their ships as the battle draws near

[ 07 ] the weapons locker onboard the ship

[ 08 ] the locker rooms onboard the ship

[ 09 ] the echo-y shuttle bay of a spaceship

[ 10 ] in the ship's command center during an intense battle

[ 11 ] the narrow passageway leading to the ship's weapon system/turrets

[ 12 ] the mess hall, crowded with crewmembers

[ 13 ] your muse's private room onboard the ship

different types of planets

[ 14 ] a dense, foggy planet with oversized plants

[ 15 ] the abandoned base on a moon with low gravity

[ 16 ] a swampy, foggy planet with frightening creatures lurking beneath the water's surface

[ 17 ] an entirely water-covered planet with structures built above the stormy seas for safety

[ 18 ] a hilly, remote planet covered in grasslands

[ 19 ] a lava-covered, mountainous planet with bubbling volcanoes

[ 20 ] a planet trapped in a constant storm, always raining and thundering

[ 21 ] the site of an abandoned colony on a once-habitable planet, now taken over by nature and destroyed by time

[ 22 ] a planet where life only exists underground, where it is impossible to survive on the surface

[ 23 ] a city planet, completely built up of buildings, nightlife, neon lights, and a seedy underbelly

assorted locations + scenarios

[ 24 ] a military base, now abandoned and controlled by a rogue ai

[ 25 ] trapped within a high security prison full of space pirates

[ 26 ] a holy temple, obscured in the mountains of a distant planet

[ 27 ] on the craggy side of a massive meteor

[ 28 ] a dangerous off-world facility rumored to house illegal experimentations

[ 29 ] a bustling, cramped cantina filled with music, drinking, and the occasional gunshot or two

[ 30 ] secretly aboard the enemy's ship, trying to remain hidden

[arc-77]

"I'm always feeling a bit disrespectful, General." His stylus signed the surface of a thin datapad, which he then placed atop a stack. Though flimsiwork was not his forte—that was Captain Maze's begrudging domain, as the adjutant to SO BDE's General Arligan Zey—it was necessary to keep things running smoothly. Logistics is what truly won wars. "But never enough to drink caf in front of a Jedi."

The Captain rose from his desk chair, taking a moment to stretch before he sat on the carpeted floor across from Kenobi. In the aftermath of another large series of operations, there were many reports to create, review, and sign-off on. A High General's workload must eclipse a Captain's rather dramatically, Fordo could only assume. Perhaps that was the cause of the man's weary look.

"You picked a good time, was just finishing for the evening." He poured himself a small cup of the tea, stirring in a few sugar cubes. "Think I'd prefer the life-or-death, but that should go without saying." He contemplated the steamy cup as it cooled. "How're you and Cody holding up? Harder to sit for tea with someone in your direct command, I imagine."

@arc-77

"I brought tea. And coffee if you're feeling particularly disrespectful." Normally, Obi-Wan wouldn't have gone out of his way to provide the latter option, but his luck had been proving to be a rather fickle thing and he felt better not pushing it. He was already interrupting the Captain's sparse free time and short of booze, because everyone liked booze, he had no idea what the man drank.

Not waiting for a response, he let the door slide shut behind him before settling down on his knees in the center of the room, just out of the walkway. There was a desk—pointedly the one the good Captain was sitting at—but the floor was welcomingly informal and he had little desire for this meeting to be between two GAR officers. General Kenobi was in desperate need of a break and Master Kenobi didn't have the energy to wear his mask.

Hopefully, it wasn't some horrendous hour; Obi-Wan struggled to keep track of time without the natural rising and setting of the sun (though, somehow, Qui-Gon always had despite its irrelevance to the Force).

"I find myself in need of some decent company." His gaze was tired, unfocused, yet he still managed to pour himself a cup full of steam and scalding water. "I trust I'm not interrupting any life or death matters."

[arc-77]

Did you paint your armo- oh, that's just dried blood.

"It was a very bad week. For a lot of people."

[arc-77]

bringing you the stories deena tharen won't report on

[arc-77]

"Was hoping you'd say that." A great deal of tension leaves the trooper's shoulders, and he turns back around to face the gunship once more. "You help us shoot down that air patrol, we'll stay out of your way — you have my word. I can authorize an IFF signature, it'll keep our starfighters off your tail for as long as you're in the star system."

He extends his hand in offering to shake one of those claw-tipped manipulators sprouting from beneath the gunship's chin. It is a curiously anthropomorphic design choice for a droid vessel. If it weren't already clear from the rather unique personality, whatever research program that developed this thing must placed a great deal of emphasis on the AI core. He had many questions. Strange new technologies had that effect on him.

"Captain Fordo."

But there was no time to dwell. His head turns slightly as a message comes across his internal comms, and he taps a control on the side of his helmet that engages the external speaker for his temporary ally to hear. "Say again, Eight-Two?"

<< Repeat, eight vulture droids on the horizon, ninety seconds and closing. Orders? >>

"Copy, prepare to hold at the entrance. On my way with backup." Fordo glances back the way he came, helmet spotlight illuminating a rocky slope, and then a series of scrape marks along the walls. His visor meets Mako's motion sensor, and he bows his head apologetically. "It'll take too long for me to climb back out. You're faster." Quickly, Fordo clambers onto one of the gunship's canards and holds on tight before the metal beast can try and brush him off. It was no Bes'uliik, but it would do.

Cold, unyielding metal digests the trooper's words with appropriate suspicion; MAKO doesn't have a lie detector incorporated into his design, but he considers himself a decent judge of character regardless. He's never known a trooper to be so cautious without good reason. He truly believes himself to be in danger, then. Good.

"You really need me to repeat myself? The CIS want me dead just as much as everyone else." The ground rumbles to the sound of the gunship's thrusters throttling, an animalistic growl, but he doesn't pull the trigger—not yet, at least. The reminder of the skulking Vulture droids brings a greater priority to mind.

"Wait. I have reassessed the situation." MAKO shunts forwards on his landing gear as the trooper begins to turn, his weapons systems powering down with a whine. In the following silence, something drips in the darkness. One of his stabilizers, now exposed by his movements, is scorched and dented; coolant wells from a ruptured line like blood from a wound.

"You and I. If you are telling the truth, I think we can work something out." He sounds as if he's chewing on rusted nails, admitting as such. Given the circumstances, it seems he's leaning towards his hatred of the Separatists over the Republic. "We have a greater chance of nailing those chipbrains if we work together. You can see the kind of firepower I am packing, and you claim your brothers are similarly equipped. The odds are in our favor."