#'hey jorgan are you okay?'

[queen-scribbles]

Girls Night Out

Post-Gauntlet Keme & Elara friendship fic bc I caught a plot gizka off the most recent time through. ft Jaxo's Checking In mission and Elara giving relationship advice :3 [~3500 words]

---

The medcenter hallway was 763 tiles long.

Keme knew this because she'd counted them while pacing. Thrice.

The lovely thing about being Havoc's CO was that it allowed her to know the "status of her team" but didn't necessarily let her do what she wanted with that information. Which was why she was here, in the kriffing hallway, instead of in there. When the medcenter said no visitors they meant it. No exceptions for commanding officers.

She'd memorized the list of Jorgan's injuries, too.

Which was why she was here. Pacing the hallway. Instead of out enjoying the brief--rare--shore leave, or restocking, or any of the half dozen other things she could think to do.

It was hard to read the words "punctured lung" and not worry.

Keme finally halted and slouched in one of the barely-padded chairs, fingers nervously tapping the armrest as she stared at the wall. Please be okay.

[Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant plasma burns to left leg, extensive bone and nerve damage; below knee amputation recommended. Potential retinal--]

Footsteps echoed down the austere hall and Keme snapped to her feet. Her shoulders dropped fractionally seeing it was Dorne.

"Not to be insubordinate, Major-" the other woman began, settling into parade rest posture when she reached Keme.

Keme waved off the concern. "We're on leave, Elara. And regardless, if you're about to dispense medical advice, it's hardly insubordinate for you to do your job." She shifted her weight, fighting the urge to pace again.

"Very well. You should go do something, Keme. This" --she gestured to the hallway-- "is not healthy for you, and it isn't helping anyone."

Keme snorted and rubbed at gritty eyes with the heel of one hand. "Like what, Elara? I don't have anyone to visit, I'm not much for shopping, and I'll bet my next three paychecks I couldn't focus on a book or vid to save my--"

Her comm beeped with a message notification. Keme frowned. Garza or the medtechs would've commed, no reason for her parents to be contacting her right now... She spotted a terminal and headed for it, Elara on her heels.

"Something the matter, sir?" Elara asked.

"Don't know yet." Keme signed in and pulled up her messages. There were two--one text, one audio. The text file proved to be the official notice of their promotions; major for her, captain for Jorgan, lieutenant for Dorne, and the medals and commendations earned on the Gauntlet mission.

"Would've made captain soon if Command hadn't hung me out to dry." She chucked internally at the memory. Hope this wasn't too much of a delay for you.

The audio message was from Jaxo. "Hey, hotshot, heard you're back on Coruscant, with leave no less. Some friends and I were equally lucky, and we're gonna do something fun with it. Swing by if you wanna join us."

"That sounds like someone you could visit," Elara commented. "As a distraction."

Keme rolled her eyes as she closed down the terminal. "C'mon, how much fun d'you think I'll be tonight?"

"You never know," Elara said with a shrug. "Maybe once you start relaxing, it'll help more than you expect."

Keme chewed the inside of her cheek. Under other circumstances, it would be fun. Maybe she should give it a shot. "I'll go if you come with me."

Elara arched a brow. "I wasn't invited."

"So I'm inviting you," Keme said. "I'll tell Jaxo since we both have leave we're a package deal."

"Oh, alright. If it'll get you out of here."

Keme gave a wry smile. "Guess this means we need to go find other outfits, that fit the tone of having fun better."

"I suppose we should," Elara said with a faux-sigh, and they started down the hall.

Keme couldn't help a last look back over her shoulder, as if that would make a doctor materialize with an update and justify her staying.

It didn't.

---

This cantina was too loud. The first couple hadn't been bad, which almost made the pounding music and din of customer chatter worse. Keme took the drink--gizer ale--Jorda clumsily shoved in her hands and surveyed the crowd. Dancing, drinking...

The song changed and Keme wrinkled her nose. It was too loud to think in here, let alone really talk. She took a sip of her drink as that clicked. The other places they'd hit so far; five of the eight Jaxo had tallied at the start, were busy, noisy, but not so much to prevent conversation. She could listen to Jorda or Keran's war stories, Jaxo regaling them with one of her declassified exploits, and it was at least somewhat the distraction she needed.

With this place too loud to think, her thoughts were slipping back to the default track, even as she sought some level of refuge at the high tables away from the dance floor.

Punctured lung. Multiple contusions and blaster burns from sustained heavy fire. Significant--

"Hey." Jaxo hoisted herself up on one of the other tall chairs. "This seems a dang'rous combo with drunk people," she muttered, briefly distracted, before looking back at Keme. "Why don't you look like you're havin' fun? The whole point of this is t' have fun!"

"It's too loud in here." Wasn't technically a lie; she was all but hollering just to talk. "Can hardly hear myself think."

Jaxo snorted. "Y' aren't s'pposed to think, you're s'pposed to dance, have fun, drink people under the table." She studied Keme for a moment, expression sobering at the half-shrug she got in response. "You've been quiet all night, come to think. Dorne looks like she's havin' more fun than you." She lightly kicked the side of Keme's boot. "Didn't you just save the Republic an' get a big promotion?"

"Yeah," Keme acknowledged, distracted by a specific flicker of movement as Elara worked her way through the crowd.

"Well, I've about had my fill of this sort of fun," she commented, setting her half-drunk Johrian whiskey on the table and claiming the remaining chair.

Jaxo rolled her eyes. "Think you've rubbed off on your CO, Dorne; she'd rather sit an' mope into her drink than celebrate."

Elara let the jibe roll off without acknowledgement, giving her attention to the latter part. "The promotion may be cause for celebration, but since the squad XO was seriously injured in the course of that mission, I think her reticence is understandable, don't you?"

Jaxo had the grace to wince at the explanation. "Didn't know that part, sorry, major." She nudged Keme's shoulder. "Still, you being all sullen an' worrying isn't gonna help him get better any faster, right?" Isn't it better to be in a good frame of mind for dealing with whatever Command throws your way?" She glanced around the room, did a double take and grinned when it passed over the others from their group. "Looks like Keran found us some new friends." She slid off the seat, tottered a little finding her balance, and flashed Keme a genuine smile. "Hope you'll feel up to joining us, hotshot."

Keme appreciated Elara's silence as they watched her leave, headed for the gaggle of clean-cut 'friends' who had joined Keran and Jorda.

"How d'you think she'd feel, knowing she agreed with you?" Keme sighed, folding her hands over her cup and resting her chin atop them.

"About what?" Elara took another sip of her whiskey.

"Relaxing's the point of shore leave. Unwinding so you're ready for your next assignment." She tried not to dwell on the likelihood Havoc would be running a member short for whatever theirs was.

The song changed, something slightly quieter, and she sighed in relief at the reprieve.

A small smile tugged Elara's lips and she swirled the remaining whiskey in her glass. "True as that is, and as good as it would be for your mental state regardless, I think you were 'wound' a bit further than the rest of us, so it follows it'll take you longer to unwind."

"But you two also have a point there," Keme said, idly watching the animated body language of Jaxo and Keran's "friends". A challenge had clearly been issued; Jorda plunked a tray of shots down on the table. "What good does worrying do? Not gonna speed up the healing process, not even gonna magically create an exception to the 'no visitors' policy." She straightened with a huff. "But it's like I can't help myself."

"Well, I'd say concern for your people when they get injured in the line of duty makes you a good CO." Elara raised her glass and slanted a mischievous look at Keme over the rim. "Though I'm under no illusions it would be quite so much a... distraction, in my case."

Keme made a strangled noise of indignation. "I- You're my friend, of course I'd worry-!"

"I know, and I'd appreciate it," Elara said with a smile. A loud whoop dragged their attention to where Jaxo was clearly winning whatever game was going on. "I also know this is different."

"No point playing dumb, huh?" Keme groaned and rubbed her temples. "It is and I don't know why."

Elara scoffed, barely audible under the music. "No? Need I remind you the ship's medbay is right next to the armory?" She arched a brow. "Or that I have functional ears and it isn't as if you two whisper?"

She should probably be a little embarrassed by the implication, but she wasn't. Keme slugged down half her drink in a go, cleared her throat at the burn. "Then you know it's just been talking." So far, she added mentally. "Maybe a little flirting, but nothing serious, nothing to justify wringing my hands over him getting hurt. 'Specially in this line of work."

Elara studied her. "Keme." She set her now-empty glass on the table. "Jorgan didn't just 'get hurt', he was seriously injured, almost died--"

"Thanks for preventing that, by the way," Keme muttered into her drink, suppressing a flinch at hearing it so bluntly.

"You're welcome. My point is, just because you two have been outwardly taking your time, exhibiting caution due to your positions, doesn't mean your heart was on the same timetable." She leaned back in her chair. "You've not done anything by half-measure since I met you, it would hardly be a surprise for this to follow the pattern. And... close calls like this can easily serve as catalyst for realizing the true depth of feelings."

"Very astute." Keme finished the last swallow of her drink and slid off the seat to stretch. "Both the advice and the noticing."

"As I said, it's not hard to pick up." Elara smiled and likewise slid out of her chair. The song changed back to something that pounded, prompting the two of them to head for the relative quiet of the street.

"Well, in that case, thanks for not reporting me for fraternization or something," Keme said dryly, taking a deep breath of comparatively cooler air.

"I don't see a need," Elara said, shrugging. "It's clearly mutual, and hasn't kept either of you from doing your jobs, quite well. So long as it doesn't interfere with operational effectiveness, I don't see it as my place to report anything you or Captain Jorgan haven't, sir."

Keme slanted a glance her way, smirked at the mischief glinting in her friend's eyes. "You playing matchmaker now, LT?"

(A small but undeniable pulse of glee burrowed through her gnawing worry at 'clearly mutual'.)

Elara tilted her head, brows arching in faux-innocence. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, major. Should I stop??"

"Depends, do you think I need the help?"

"I have every confidence in your ability to pursue a man who's interested in you," Elara deadpanned. "If that's what you're asking."

Keme snorted. "Thanks. Then I guess it's just a matter of if you wanna be complicit should we get written up for fraternization down the line."

Elara perked up. "Oh, there's a form authorizing romantic relationships."

Of course there is. And of course you knew about it off the top of your head. "Great, more paperwork. Jorgan'll be thrilled."

"I think he'd do it for you."

"I think we should wait until it's actually a relationship before we worry about that, rather'n just flirting, huh?"

"If you insist," Elara said with a shrug.

Keme wondered what the odds were that form would be downloaded and waiting to be called for, when she was ready. Probably pretty high. She looked up, watching the racing lights of traffic flight paths for a minute. "Thanks, Elara. 'M sorry Jaxo's not exactly warm and welcoming, but I'm glad you came along."

"I was an unexpected addition," Elara said mildly. "And I'm far from ignorant of my reputation among Republic personnel. Their opinion of me is their business. Staying true to myself is mine."

Keme nodded. Good outlook. "How much d'you think it would shock them if we rejoin and I said you're the one who talked me out of moping and into havin' fun?"

Elara snickered. "Oh, that might almost be worth stretching the truth."

It wasn't that much of a stretch; talking about her muddled feelings had helped her feel better. More like celebrating. But they didn't get a chance to run their experiment. Even as they turned to head back inside, Jaxo and the others emerged from the cantina.

"Another one down," Jaxo crowed, hooking an arm around Keran's neck. "An' our tab's covered 'cause I drank her Navy buddies under the table!"

Ah. So that's who they were. "Quite the achievement," Keme drawled. "Where to next?"

"Done moping, major?" Jaxo teased.

Keme shrugged. "You and Elara made some good points. Tonight should be for fun."

Jaxo was too tipsy to hide her surprise. "Yeah? Glad we, uh, got through to you. We still have two stops left, hotshot. I expect you to pull your weight for them."

"Aye, aye," Keme said with a mock salute that Jorda found hilarious from her loud bout of laughter.

"Right then." Jaxo steered the group toward a taxi stand. "On to the Sloppy Tauntaun!"

Keme gave a startled bark of laughter. "That is not its name!"

"Oh, you're in for a treat," Jaxo sniggered as they piled into a cab. "Hole in the wall cantinas are the best."

---

Keme wasn't completely sure she'd agree with Jaxo's assessment once they're had their fun at the ironically well-kept Sloppy Tauntaun--she preferred cantinas with a bit of polish--but the drinks were good and they did have fun.

Last stop was the Silent Sun because it was closest to Jaxo's place. Smart move on her part; Jorda couldn't make it more than a few steps without giggling, Keran and Elara were weaving a little, and even with her slow start, Keme was feeling the buzz of not-quite-drunk(but more-than-tipsy). Still. She could walk a straight line, so not too bad. And she knew now Elara could match Jaxo shot for shot, which was fun information and had definitely increased Jaxo's opinion of the Havoc medic.

They'd turned down the hallway to Jaxo's place, Jorda now leaning on Elara while Jaxo punched in her access code--it took two tries, Maybe she was more plastered than she showed--when Keme's datapad beeped. She glanced at it out of habit.

Medcenter alert.

The pleasant alcohol buzz was gone.

She didn't open the message but its mere arrival was a reminder of reality.

Later. I'll deal with it after we leave. It still felt like her datapad was burning a hole in her pocket. She shook it off and followed the others into Jaxo's place. There was still the harsh reality of she couldn't do anything(except pace a groove in the hall), anyway.

"Hey. "Jorda's hand settled heavy on her shoulder. "You're amazing, y'know?" She blinked like a newly-sighted loth-kitten. "J'st amazing. Savin' our butts on Quesh? The Gauntlet? Amazing," she proclaimed with all the gravitas of an emphatic drunk.

"Thank you, Jorda," Keme said with a chuckle.

Elara materialized, gently tugging on Jorda's arm. "I think it would be best for you to lie down a bit, Corporal. Jaxo said you can use her bed, come on."

"Well, this was fun," Keran drawled as Keme joined her and Jaxo. "'Specially now that you've guaranteed I'll get heckled for the next month."

"Hey," Jaxo said with a grin and shrug. "If your Navy buddies can't drink a sweet little thing like me under the table, that's their problem, not yours. You heckle them right back."

Keran laughed. "Good plan. On that note, I better get going. We ship out late tomorrow, so I should work on sleeping off the incoming hangover. See ya 'round, Jaxo, Major."

"Later, Keran," Jaxo said, turning to Keme as Keran headed out. "Glad you made it. Even if it took a while for you to get in the spirit."

"I did need the distraction," Keme allowed, trying not to dwell on the medcenter alert. "Sorry I was a bit of a drag."

"Hey." Jaxo shrugged. "While I'm of a mind we should enjoy the good times when she get 'em, you had a pretty decent reason for that being tricky." She hesitated a moment, smile tugging her lips, then, "I gotta ask, this XO of yours... wouldn't happen to be the grumpus watchin' your six when we worked together, would it?"

Keme huffed a laugh. "Yeah. He's good at it."

"'Course he is." Jaxo snickered and sobered. "Well, I wish him a speedy recovery. And maybe Havoc can wrap this war up quick for us, huh?"

"You lookin' to swap for a desk job, Sergeant?" Keme teased.

Jaxo barked a laugh. "Please. I'd go insane inside a month." Her gaze flicked to the side as Elara rejoined them. "Am I gonna need to clean any of my stuff?"

Elara shook her head. "Not so far. But I would advise making sure she stays hydrated."

Jaxo gave a mock salute. "Aye, aye." She flopped back on the couch. "I'll let you two go. Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, sure," Keme said with a wave as she and Elara made for the door. "Thanks for the invite."

"Anytime, Major," Jaxo called after them just before the door closed.

They had to keep an eye for gangsters and so didn't have time for conversation until they were in the speeder back to the Senate district.

"Glad you went?" Elara asked lightly.

"Yeah. Needed the distraction," Keme said even as she dug out her datapad and pulled up the unread message. "Unfortunately, reality is persistent and has really bad timing..." She only skimmed the first couple sentences before handing the datapad to Elara. "Medcenter alert. You're better with parsing the jargon than I am."

One corner of Elara's mouth twitched and she took the datapad, lips moving silently as she read. "It's a treatment update... they were able to repair the retinal damage with no scarring..."

Good the squad sniper's vision isn't compromised, Keme thought sardonically, something tight easing in her chest.

"...they did have to amputate, the requisition for a cybernetic leg is attached. Being in SpecForce, particularly Havoc, that should be filled by end of day tomorrow; Command will want their top unit at full strength ASAP..." she read further. "...overall prognosis is good; full recovery and return to duty within two standard weeks."

"That fast?!" Keme blurted. She wanted Jorgan back, no question, but not because the medcenter rushed him out the door.

"The miracle of kolto," Elara said, shutting down the datapad and handing it back.

"And skilled medical personnel, and you," Keme added, tucking the datapad away. The tightness in her chest and gut eased further.

Elara arched a brow. "Wouldn't I fall under 'skilled medical personnel'?"

"No, 'cause you saved his damn life in the field, without access to all the fancy equipment here, that puts you in a category all your own, Dorne," Keme retorted.

"Don't forget Forex while you're doling out praises," Elara said, glancing at the buildings whizzing by.

"Oh, never. I've already bugged Garza twice about giving him whatever's the best commendation we can wrangle for a droid." Keme smirked a little, toying with the clasps of her jacket. "Squad loyalty and cohesion are grand."

"Your leadership's helped us get there," Elara said. "You're a fine commanding officer, and if I may say so, an even better friend."

"You may, and thank you." Keme shifted in her seat as the speeder pad came into view. "You're a good friend, too, Elara. Right down to talkin' me into girls' night out when I wasn't sure about it."

"That's what friends are for, sir," Elara said as the speeder settled on the pad and they climbed out. "As well as supporting you in rough times," she added when Keme's gaze went toward the medcenter. "Heading back?"

"Just to check in. Then--unless by some miracle the 'no visitors' policy has vanished--it's back to the Starbreaker for some rest."

"Sounds like a plan."

Keme nodded absently. Her bunk on the ship would be more comfortable than a medcenter chair, at least.

And she could always resume counting hallway tiles in the morning.

[forcedcompanionsdaycare]

Forced Companions Daycare, 001

Vanilla: All companion recruitments are mandatory.

Companions. Why do these hopelessly clashing people come back, day after day, to the same daycare center? And how did some of them even get here? We don’t know, but maybe if we watch carefully we can begin to understand…

KHEM VAL, tending to BABY RAINA TEMPLE: I’ve not changed such a diaper since the nurseries of Yn and Chabosh.

BABY XALEK: Bah, this weak one is not worth the trouble. Let us crush her.

KHEM VAL: No crushing the other children, even the weak ones. I will devour you as I devoured the enemies of Tulak Hord if you break the rules.

BABY XALEK: Rules are made to be crushed.

KHEM VAL: Devouring.

BABY XALEK: Fine, then.

BABY QUINN, glaring at BABY JORGAN: I don’t like you. I’m not really sure why, but I’m quite certain I can come up with a compelling reason for why you need to be smacked down. Umm…let’s think…ah, yes! Republic scum! *commences pummeling BABY JORGAN*

BABY JORGAN: Has anybody ever told you what a jerk you are? *bites BABY QUINN with pointy Cathar teeth*

BABY QUINN, bleeding on the floor: …I could probably have planned this better.

BABY JORGAN smirks and goes to play with M1-4X in the corner.

BABY PIERCE, perking up: Hey, guys! Somebody’s down! Time for Kicking Somebody While He’s Down!

BABIES ANDRONIKOS, PIERCE, KALIYO, and SKADGE, gathering around the fallen BABY QUINN: Yaaaay!

BABY BROONMARK, elbowing in to assist with the kicking: Blllorb!

BABY QUINN, still bleeding: Hey! Ow!

KHEM VAL, hurries over to see what the hubbub is about.

BABY QUINN: This is not acceptable!

KHEM VAL, crossing his arms and overseeing the beating: Oh, it really is.

BABY QUINN: Ow! You’re the worst caretaker ever.

KHEM VAL: I see you’ve never met the Emperor.

BABY KIRA bursts into tears for no evident reason.

BABY XALEK: Ah, Kira. I see the Dark Side is strong in you.

BABY KIRA: *sniffle* Nuh-uh.

BABY XALEK: Uh-huh.

BABY KIRA: Is not.

BABY XALEK: Is too.

BABY KIRA: I am a good Jedi! I am in control of my emotions! *punches BABY XALEK*

BABY XALEK: Good, good. Trust your feelings, Kira. You are Sith. The Jedi are weak and will only fail you.

BABY ASHARA: Xalek’s a doo-doo head. Jedi are better and prettier.

BABY KIRA: You’re all weird! Leave me alone!

BABY GUSS TUNO: Hey, hey, can I be a Jedi?

BABY KIRA and BABY ASHARA: No.

BABY GUSS TUNO: :(

T7-01 has noticed the Kicking Somebody circle.

T7-01: Children = stop kicking // Daycare = neutral territory

BABY ANDRONIKOS, pointing at KHEM VAL: He said it was okay.

BABY BROONMARK, kicking: Blllorp.

KHEM VAL: I declined to say ‘stop.’ That’s completely different.

YOUNG BOWDAAR, coming through to wash the windows: I AM A SLAVE.

…Then again, maybe not.

[vespertine-legacy]

So, I was probably not supposed to have a companion out at all before heading over to the conversation with General Daeruun and Master Gnost-Dural, but I don’t play by the rules, so Cershaa had Elara with her, and I did not realize that Elara is part of that conversation by default, so I briefly had TWO ELARAS and I can’t tell you how excited Cershaa was at that prospect. I’m not sure what green!Elara was supposed to be inspecting, but it amused me greatly that companion!Elara ended up standing right there to be prodded by herself.

[swtorpadawan]

The Hero of Tython meets the Commander of Havoc Squad

Author’s Note: I wrote this years ago. Its just pure silliness. Neither character is a particular OC of mine.

The Hero of Tython and the Commander of Havoc Squad meet to discuss a joint inter-squad operation against the Sith Empire.

Trooper: You're the Hero of Tython, right? It's an honor to finally meet you.

Jedi Knight: The honor is mine, Major. You and Havoc Squad have accomplished some amazing things.

T: Well, look who's talking? I hear you took out the Emperor. That must have been quite the experience.

JK: Oh, it had it had its ups and downs. Running around the galaxy, saving planets that were about to blow up, taking down a madman who wanted to destroy the whole galaxy. It had its close calls, but I suppose it was personally rewarding as well as a service to the Force.

T: That's …. Impressive. My squad and I took down the Gauntlet. A super-weapon designed to destroy entire fleets.

JK: Very nice. What Sith Lord was in charge of the weapon?

T: No Sith Lord. General Arkos Rakton commissioned it.

JK: A General? Not even a Moff?

T: (pausing) No.

JK: Oh. Well, I'm sure he was a worthy enemy.

T: …

JK: …

T: You never back down to a challenge, do you?

JK: I guess that is my reputation.

T: That's an odd rep for a Jedi.

JK: As my former Padawan never stops telling me, I'm not like most Jedi.

T: Well, I don't back down to a challenge, either.

JK: Wait. Are we doing this?

T: I think we are, yeah.

JK: Okay. You go first.

T: Have you met M1-4X, our advanced war droid? He's virtually unstoppable. Can take on a Sith Lord by himself. He's powered by some ancient alien power core. I dunno for sure, but my money is on it being a Rakata device.

JK: Very impressive. Have you met my AstroMech droid, T7-01? He helped me kill the Emperor.

T: Wow. Alright, fine. I have a squad medic. Lieutenant Elara Dorne, my executive officer. She's an expert in combat-related injuries.

JK: Our guy calls himself Doc. Top-flight medical specialist. Can handle injuries just fine, even the lightsaber variety. He can even cure Hutt diseases no one has ever heard of.

T: Does curing Hutts count as a good thing?

JK: Eh. Well. I am a Jedi, so I have to assume so.

T: Fine. Fair enough. Sargent Yuun is my Gand technical specialist. He's an expert at bypassing Imperial security. Can handle himself in the field, too.

JK: My former Padawan is an excellent slicer, and can take down most Sith Lords single-handedly.

T: Gah. Really? Fine – Sargent Jorgan is the very model of a Republic soldier.

JK: Sergeant Rusk is the same way. And I think is probably less temperamental.

T: Fine, then! I have Tanno Vik! Demolitions expert! Yeah, he's a mercenary, a crook, an untrustworthy, two-bit criminal! But he gives us an edge in ruthlessness you can't match as a Jedi.

JK: Nice. He sounds like quite the rogue. By the way, I have a Sith Lord on my team.

T: Really? A Sith Lord? But you mean, like…. He's a reformed Sith Lord, right? Looking to redeem himself, join your Jedi Order, swear himself to the Light side of the Force, that sort of thing?

JK: Not really, no. He's a Sith Lord. Like an actual, unrepentant Sith Lord. He actually gets annoyed with me every time I save innocent lives. Or when I show compassion. Or sometimes even civility. In some ways, he's basically the definition of evil.

T: But he works for you?

JK: Yes.

T: But …. Doesn't he try to turn you evil? The Dark Side of the Force and all that?

JK: Oh, he tried that for the first few months before giving up in frustration. Now he just wants me to have kids and, if they're force-sensitive, he'll train them to be future Sith Lords.

T: That's… horrifying!

JK: Hey, when you've lived the life that I have, you need to have a sense of humor about these things.

T: Well, fine then, Mr. Hero. Top this: I'm engaged to be married to my team's medic. You know, the hot blonde ex-Imperial? What do you say to that, Mr. Jedi Master? Can't match that, can you?

JK: ….

T: ….

JK: Uhm. Well, you know Jedi aren't supposed to form attachments like that. It's all part of the Jedi Code...

T: Oh, no kriffing way! You're totally doing the redhead, aren't you?!

JK: Hey, could you say that a little louder? I don't think they heard you back on TYTHON!

T: Wow. Okay. You and I need to talk this out over a couple of beers. Let's go find a Cantina.

JK: Well, technically, I'm not supposed to drink…

T: Bit late to start drawing the line, isn't it?

JK: Yes. Alright. Fair enough. Let's stop at Carrick Station on the way to the objective.

T: Hey, did we just become best friends?

JK: I would say 'yes', but only one of us is destined to become the Outlander.

T: Do I even want to know what that is?

JK: No, probably not.

Author’s Note: For the record, I do like the Trooper story. But the sense of scale by comparison can throw me off.

[darthlordcommie]

SWTOR Thoughts: Companions

Here are my thoughts on the class companions. Only going through vanilla SWTOR, not going into KOTFE or beyond.

T7: Your basic R2 type little droid buddy. Fun to have around.

Kira Carsen: Interesting backstory. Weird that she’s described as the Knight’s padawan, though. Like her attitude.

Doc: I’d like him more if he wasn’t a womanizer.

Rusk: Somewhat zealous and ruthless. Still, fits for the Knight to have a soldier along.

Lord Scourge: This is how you do a party member who doesn’t necessarily get along or agree with you. You might not like him and he might not like you, but you’re both willing to work together for a united cause.

Qyzen: Interesting character, unique and enjoyable as a companion in a lot of ways. I am not comfortable with the Wookie thing. At all.

Tharan Cedrax: I’d like him more if he wasn’t a womanizer.

Zenith: This guy is interesting because he’s not just a resistance fighter, he’s a revolutionary. He’s somewhat of a morally grey character, but that makes him interesting.

Felix Iresso: I want nice things for my boy.

Nadia Grell: Kind of frustrating you don’t get her as a companion until the second to last planet of the main story. I do not feel comfortable with romancing her in the main game. At all.

Aric Jorgan: He’s rude, he’s a hardass, but I can’t help but like the guy. Helps that he’s got solid morals, too.

Elara Dorne: It takes a lot of guts to look at the society that raised you, say “I’m not okay with all these war crimes”, and run away, only to turn around and fight to take down that society. She’s great. Also, she’s totally autistic, and you can fight me on this. I will hear no bad things about her.

M1-4X: Interesting to have a droid along. They say some things that I am very uncomfortable with.

Tanno Vik: I don’t like him. Full stop.

Yuun: He is a fascinating character. Also, he’s a good guy who just wants to help. 10/10

Corso Riggs: Good kid. Honest fellow. Needs to work on the chauvinism.

Bowdaar: Manages to give us a fresh take on a Wookie party member, which is nice.

Risha: Is she out to betray you? Is she secretly going to kill you? No, she’s really just kind of an awkward gearhead who secretly wants more friends. She’ll never admit it, though.

Akaavi Spar: She is a Mandalorian. She has muscles. YES. Kinda wish she was less pro-Empire, though. 

Guss Tuno: This kid is so far over his head it’s ridiculous. Honestly, shouldn’t be looking at criminals for role models, but I think he’s got a good heart.

Vette: She’s great. Ex-pirate, skilled thief, and manages to remain cheerful and kindhearted throughout it all.

Malavai Quinn: On the one hand, he’s cute, competent, and very much interested in a meritocracy. On the other hand, he’s racist, imperialistic, and will do war crimes. So, I’ll take him along, but I won’t like it.

Jaesa Willsaam: Girl needs some time to be herself. Also needs time to figure out who she wants to be. I just want nice things for her.

Pierce: He’s a bloodthirsty dick. Idk what else to say.

Broonmark: I can work with him.

Khem Val: How is the murderous assassin who starts off wanting me dead the most trustworthy person I meet for 4 planets?

Andronikos Revel: He’s softer than he acts. Not the best person, but hey, as long as I keep my knives out of his back he won’t try to shoot me. Sounds like a good deal to me.

Ashara Zavros: Gray Jedi. Thank goodness. Wish she could call me something besides “my lord”.

Talos Drellik: Dude’s an archaeologist and a cinnamon roll. He’s great. Wish he wasn’t so enthusiastic about the Empire, but nobody’s perfect.

Xalek: Idk, he joins so late I honestly just find him forgettable. He’s just kind of... there.

Kaliyo Djannis: I can work with her. But boy, do I always wait until I don’t have to.

Vector Hyllus: Great in every way. I will hear no badmouthing.

Lokin: Fun character. Gray morality, interesting to listen to, definitely enjoyable. Don’t eat or drink anything he gives you, though.

Raina Temple: Interesting character. She needs to have the propaganda washed out of her brain.

SCORPIO: I do not trust her as far as I could throw her. Which isn’t far.

Mako: What happens when a nerd becomes a mercenary. Also, cloning??

Gault: Okay, he’s a con man and a racketeer who’d probably sell me if he got a good deal, but until then, he’s fun to hang with.

Torian Cadera: Good kid. Being Mandalorian bumps up his coolness factor.

Blizz: Adorable little troublemaking escape artist. Love the little guy.

Skadge: I want a refund. Get this dumbass off my ship.

[shimmersing]

Best Intentions *COMPLETE* Masterpost | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Bonus! Soundtrack @ Spotify

“Until then, feast, celebrate, and hope we live to see a kinder age.”

The Organa throne room was packed with jubilant soldiers and subjects, all of whom gave a cheer as the Duke offered his grand benediction. Erithon and his crew shared a good-natured shout with the rest, and Aitahea’s smile was punctuated by her bright laughter. They’d returned from the assault triumphant and celebratory, Brant Sonn leading the troops in song as they had marched victorious through the Organa streets. Erithon had marveled when Aitahea had raised her own voice to join the soaring anthem. When she’d caught his astonished stare, Aitahea had laughed and leaned close to make herself heard over the other voices.

“Did you ever hear a lullaby called ‘Star by Star’?” Erithon had nodded, still confused. “It’s the same melody, simply with different words. Listen.” And he had, snippets of some long-lost tune floating in and out of recognition as her voice had spiraled around him.

Once the forces had arrived at the palace, the Duke himself had announced that they would carry on with plans for a grand ball that was scheduled that evening – not to mention the revelries rippling throughout the region as news of their victory spread. After the hearty dismissal, Aitahea accompanied Erithon from the throne room, leading them toward the central hub of the castle.

“It seems the Duke insists on our remaining in the castle as guests,” she explained. “Our belongings have been brought from our ships.”

He blinked, surprised and uncertain. “Uh. Okay. Used to packing in my own kit; how’s that work?”

The Jedi placed a soothing hand on his arm. “We’re guests of House Organa. It’s all very auspicious; they work with your protocol droid.” She hesitated a breath, in the pause slipping her hand back to her side. When he caught her eyes again, they were warm but reserved.  “Come, I’ll show you to your rooms. The guest wing isn’t far.”

“Thank you.” He offered her the lead and fell in easily at her side. “I’ll admit, a shower with real water is awfully tempting. What are the odds?”

“Quite in your favor. I think you’ll be more than pleased with the accommodations,” Aitahea agreed as they crossed the wide expanse of the central hall. Subjects and nobles alike bustled through the vaulted space, making hasty preparations for the celebrations. No one seemed to take notice of the disheveled pair as Aitahea played impromptu hostess, answering Erithon’s faltering questions about protocol among the nobility as they navigated the grand hallways.

“Fortunately, it’s easier than several thousand years ago. At one time, there was a complex system of obeisance based on the height, metal, and number of gemstones on a noble’s coronet.” Aitahea lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It only ended after an entire household suffered severe neck injuries.”

Erithon couldn’t help but arch a brow. “You’re making that up.”

“I would never!” She wed a flutter of lashes with a too-innocent smile. “You can ask the Duke himself.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll ask him about that the next time I invite him on a wild glooth hunt. You can come, too,” he taunted.

Aitahea’s eyes sparkled. “I’d be delighted.” She slowed to a stop near a set of elaborate doors. “This is the Apalis Wing. There’s a private bedroom suite for you and each of your squad members; your belongings should be just inside. The keypad will prompt you to create a new code for the lock upon entry. If you need anything else, you can use the comm unit to contact the castle steward.”

Erithon pushed open the doors and whistled low. “Can’t imagine needing much of anything else here.” The room was filled with elaborate furnishings and sumptuous fabrics, hinting at other luxuries through the open doors of the private suites. He wandered inside, looking back at the Jedi when she lingered at the threshold. “What if I need… you?” He held his breath after the last word, unexpectedly shocked that he’d had the audacity to say those words in that order.

Her gaze flickered away for a moment, aglow with reserved pleasure; when she returned her eyes to his, both her smile and blush remained sweetly steady.

“I’ll be right across the hall.”

“Great.” Erithon started to breathe again, exhaling a chagrined chuckle. The sudden rush of his own pulse in his ears was impossibly loud. “Uh, thank you.”

She took a step back, holding his gaze as she began to turn away. “See you this evening.”

When Elara and Jorgan arrived a few moments later, he was still standing in the doorway, ruefully staring across the empty hallway. Erithon’s squad mates exchanged a look just as Erithon roused at their approach.

“Oh. Hey.” Erithon shuffled from one foot to the other. “Uh, how long have you been there?” Jorgan folded his arms, and Elara smiled broadly.

“Long enough, sir.”

By the time the door clicked shut behind her, Aitahea was already halfway across the common room to her private suite, hands stuffed into her thranta’s nest of sweat-stiffened hair in search of the pins that held it securely in place. Quickly abandoning that effort, she instead grimaced at the grit under her fingernails while she dictated a brief message to her private comm. Then she turned, looking for the refresher door, and caught sight of herself in a tall mirror. She nearly recoiled at the unfamiliar reflection: sallow skin smudged with soot, ragged hair that no thranta would deign to call a nest, thank you very much, and -

Aitahea took a breath, wrinkled her nose, and dissolved into laughter.

There is no emotion indeed!

Sinking down onto a gilded chaise, Aitahea wriggled out of her cloak and draped it over the back. After another bout of giggles passed, she again began trying to release her hair from its bonds, this time teasing out the tangles with gentle fingers.

A more measured glance around showed that her meager personal belongings had been supplemented with the palace’s own necessities, all organized meticulously in her rooms. Over the holo earlier, Tharan had exclaimed about the opportunity to rub elbows with some of the nobility who, according to him, were more than eager to ‘part with some of their fortunes for a connection on the cutting edge of science.’ He - and presumably Holiday, in one format or another - had settled into their suite, but the third set of rooms remained empty of their last companion: Qyzen.

The Trandoshan had declined the Duke’s invitation to both the palace and celebration, despite having the Duke’s personal thanks for his role in the hostage crisis and the battle that had followed. He’d hunched down at Aitahea’s shoulder as the column of soldiers had begun to file into the castle. Voices had dropped to muttered whispers as they’d passed by the warrior and Jedi. “Apologize if others stare.”

Aitahea had whirled, a sudden protectiveness sharpening her expression. “Never apologize for others’ conduct, my friend.”

Qyzen Fess had remained silent for a long moment. “With Herald’s leave, will find more private camp on Organa lands.”

“With delight, Qyzen,” Aitahea had answered. “Raise me on the comm any time.”

He’d given a nod, then a shrewd glance with his good eye. “Remember promise.”

Aitahea had smiled sheepishly. “I will. Good hunting.”

Now, she could sense her friend moving steadily away from the Organa compound, into the deepest stands of the surrounding forests.

Markedly nearer, Erithon’s bright presence beckoned, unaware, and she swallowed hard against an unfamiliar but not unwelcome tenderness. She put her hands to her still-flushed cheeks, warmth lingering in the wake of his hesitant question. “What if I need… you?” Why would he –

The urgent chiming of Aitahea’s private comm startled her from her reverie, and she absentmindedly answered the summons to see Yuon Par’s face resolve from the bright static.

“Oh! Yuon!” Even from systems away, her master’s warm expression at once soothed Aitahea’s frazzled nerves. “I was moments from contacting you. We’ve only just returned from the field.”

“We’ve received reports of developments on Alderaan and had suspected your involvement. What’s happened?”

“I was engaged in an… unexpected diplomatic incident.”

Yuon pursed her lips wryly. “…Padawan.”

Feeling like an initiate, Aitahea attempted to conceal a self-conscious squirm by pulling her half-unraveled hair over one shoulder. “It’s the lieutenant.”

Yuon’s face bloomed into a delighted smile. “That’s marvelous!”

Aitahea couldn’t help but agree, feeling her face color – yet oddly grateful it wouldn’t show up in the holo. “I miscalculated when assisting the Duke, and he happened to be part of my rescue.”

“This doesn’t sound like anything that’s been in our intelligence.”

Aitahea related their efforts on Alderaan so far: the Wolf Baron’s hostage-taking, Aitahea’s attempt at diplomacy, her subsequent rescue, and their success in the battle for the highlands.

“I see. This same man, met as a child, again on Taris, now here on your own childhood home.” Yuon smartly ticked off items on her fingers. “And now after he rescues you from peril, you in turn tend to his grave injury on the field.”

“Well, when you describe it like-”

Yuon’s peal of laughter interrupted Aitahea’s mumbled protests. “You must admit, it does sound a little like a holodrama. Has the military’s public relations recruited him for a poster yet?”

Aitahea coughed sharply, recalling her indulgent vision of him the day before, helmet doffed not unlike the covers of a number of romance holos she’d seen. Sometimes Yuon was unsettlingly astute – even for a Jedi.

“You didn’t hesitate like this with previous lovers,” Yuon continued, both a little too suddenly and far too matter-of-factly for Aitahea’s taste. The consular gaped at Yuon’s visage, hands pressed to her blazing cheeks.

“Master!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, youngling.” Yuon looked uncharacteristically wistful for a moment, then shook her head and continued. “We may be Jedi, but we’re still feeling beings. The Jedi way isn’t the eradication of emotion, but the control of it.”

“That’s precisely my concern. Even with our best intentions… My-” she broke off, shaking her head, and tried again. “If I were to pursue… this, I would want to be able to devote- no, I mean, plan… I can’t help but be afraid-” She wrinkled her brows in frustration and waved a hand as if to clear the air of her uncertain words. “This is the wrong time.”

Yuon’s expression softened. “You’ll find that there is rarely a ‘right’ time, my student.”

Aitahea drew her arms tight around herself. “I fear that as well.”

“Fear will draw you closer to the dark side than love ever could.” Eloquent as they were, Yuon’s words were more troubling than comforting.

“Passion, yet serenity?” Aitahea wondered aloud, her frown softening into something more introspective.

“That sounds more like my Padawan.” Yuon nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Take your time. Restore yourself. Alderaan was your home before you came to Tython. Are you comfortable there?”

Aitahea paused to consider. “The warm welcome was a little abbreviated, but we won a generous lead in the conflict here for House Organa and the Republic, nonetheless. I couldn’t be more pleased with our progress.”

“I’m not asking about your mission, Aitahea; I’m asking about you,” Yuon pressed. “We can feel your protection, and we sense the burden you bear. I worry for you. We all do.”

“I hope to get a little rest before the gala this evening.” While she explained the Duke’s planned celebration, Aitahea’s gaze lingered on the unfamiliar gown that had ostensibly been delivered along with the rest of her things, hung on a changing screen, nearly aglow in the low light. According to the note attached, it was ‘a gift in recognition of service to House Organa, compliments of the Duke and his family.’ It was unquestionably the height of Alderaanian fashion, the simplicity of its lines embellished by an array of wings picked out in strands of tiny gems. The generous cut of the skirt and sleeves mimicked her usual robed silhouette, but the bared shoulders and lustrous gems were considerably different from her typical somber attire.

It delighted her enormously, yet left her worrying about how it might appear, a Jedi accepting gifts of such luxury. She’d admired the ladies of nobility as a child, coiffed and dressed in gowns just like this, but so far, she’d attended less than a handful of anything resembling a formal function. She’d rarely had the opportunity to wear anything other than the functional robes of her order, and certainly never something so breathtaking.

And, she thought with smug sensibility, someone you’d like very much to see you wearing it.

“Consider it a diplomatic event! Celebrating another successful joint mission between the Jedi and Republic. It’s good for morale.” Yuon gave Aitahea a pert smile, once again unreasonably astute. “I’ll be looking for photos of you on the holonet tomorrow.”

Aitahea smothered a choked giggle behind her hands. “Master.”

Yuon gave Aitahea a blithe wave, laughing her farewell. “Have a lovely time, my Padawan! May the Force be with you.”

Aitahea smiled fondly and picked up the comm to disconnect the call. A blinking light reminded her that Erithon’s holo remained unviewed, and she intended for a moment to finally watch it. Her gaze slid from the communicator to the glittering dress before drifting over to the refresher door, halfway open and boasting of long-lost comforts. Aitahea dropped the device gently on the bed, humming the refrain of a lullaby.

Best Intentions *COMPLETE* Masterpost | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Bonus! Soundtrack @ Spotify

[cinlat]

A Tight Fit (Halloween Fic)

Characters: Fynta Wolfe, Balic Cormac, Aric Jorgan Rating: T Word Count: 958

----------------------------------

Nar Shaddaa Residential Sector Apartment 215

“It’s too tight. You’re going to rip it.”

Aric Jorgan paused outside of his bedroom, trying to reason out why a man was in there. Once he’d placed the voice, he debated whether or not it would be wise to enter. Turning off the datapad on the latest sniper scopes, Jorgan kneaded the bridge of his nose and listened to the scuffle inside. He should be furious that Fynta would bring another man into their bedroom. The ship was one thing, but their apartment was sacred. Trust was the only thing that stayed Aric’s temper. Well, trust and an unhealthy dose of curiosity.

“I am not,” Cormac grunted. “Just need to wiggle it a little more, yeah, like that.”

Jorgan lifted his eyes to the ceiling, wondering if the two idiots inside had any idea what half of their conversations sounded like out of context. After years of living together as a squad, he’d come across too many instances where Fynta and Balic hatched some hair-brained plot behind a barely closed door. As if they took eavesdroppers as a challenge.

“Okay, big guy,” Fynta huffed, breath airy in a way that made Jorgan’s brow lift. “One inch at a time.”

“I’ve only got twenty minutes before Elara gets back. Slow and steady isn’t going to cut it.” Cormac growled, then yelped. “Damn it, woman. Easy on the goods.”

A low, evil chuckle preceded Fynta’s reply. “You said that you were in a hurry.”

Bracing himself, Jorgan pushed open the door to find Cormac lying on his back while Fynta stood over him, straddling his middle while she wrestled with what looked like bantha hide trousers. The big man cursed and snatched a poofy, white shirt over his bare torso with an embarrassed half-smile.

“Hey, riduur,” Fynta growled while she forced the fabric over Cormac’s upright leg. “How was the meeting?”

Though normally difficult to tell through his darker complexion, redness crept up Cormac’s neck and cheeks. It was impossible to flee with Fynta’s foot planted on his stomach for support, though Aric thought he might try. With a huff, she straightened. “Okay, maybe you’re not the same size as Blue.”

Cormac grunted when Fynta pushed off him. She’d managed to get his foot through, but the pants had barely been worked up to his knees. “Alright, you’re on your own for the rest.”

Fynta hopped down from the bed to rummage through her closet. Jorgan turned his back in an attempt to ignore Cormac’s grunts of protest while he worked the breeches further up his body.

Aric joined Fynta at her closet and leaned forward to see what she was doing. “Should I ask?”

“Surprise for Elara,” Fynta answered without turning from her goal. She let out a cheer, emerging with a dust-covered shoe box. Thankfully, Cormac had managed to get the pants up and was attempting to fasten them when Fynta dropped the box on the bed. “These should fit, at least. I know you wear the same size shoe.”

“Thanks, boss.” Balic let out a long breath when he finally secured the lower half of his outfit, then reached for the top. Jorgan pressed his lips into a tight line to avoid the smile trying to creep into place.

The sleeves that Fynta buttoned at Cormac’s wrists probably contained more fabric than the entire body of the shirt. They poofed out, made all the larger by the man’s ridiculous musculature, and cinched in around the waist to accent how uncomfortably tight those pants were. Jorgan cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“Why do you have your old mentor’s clothes in your closet?” Jorgan asked, searching for anything to distract him from all the areas his mind shouldn’t go when it came to why Cormac needed such an outfit to surprise Elara. He'd always suspected that there had been something more than platonic about her relationship with the Chiss double agent, but neither had ever broached the topic.

When Fynta answered, Aric heard the grin in her voice.  “I stole them from his locker one night when he gave me perimeter detail as a punishment for something I probably shouldn’t have done in the first place." She patted Cormac's chest. "That should do it.”

Cormac sauntered up to the mirror with all the self-respect of a man who knew his worth. “Hey, this isn’t half bad.” Aric watched the man turn one way, then another while he examined the outcome of his and Fynta’s hard work. With a hearty laugh, he clapped his hands. “I owe you, boss, oh shit, I need to get going. You two have fun.”

Snatching his jacket, Cormac darted from the room. Jorgan heard the front door shut a moment later and turned to his wife. “I worry about you two.”

Fynta laughed and went to the other side of their bed. She vanished behind it, emerging a minute later with a box from the local dry cleaners. Aric moved closer, curious about what she’d thought important enough to make the trip across town instead of using the free one on base. The flash of blue in the overhead light made his stomach tighten, then an excited growl slipped through his teeth when Fynta pulled his favorite outfit from within. “I thought we might stay home tonight and...rekindle some old memories.”

It took effort to drag his gaze from the sequined strips of fabric that had haunted his dreams since their first trip to Nar Shaddaa years ago, but Jorgan managed. The heat in Fynta’s eyes made his knees weak. “So, what do you say?”

Closing the distance between them, Aric pulled his wife into a rough kiss. “You get dressed,” he breathed against her lips. “I’ll lock the door.”

[rainofaugustsith]

On SWTOR’s Disappearing Characters

I've learned that the discussions on the official forum are a hellscape, and that it's best to completely avoid that site, save for the dev announcements, bug reports and PTS information. I unwisely took a peek tonight, and yep, that has not changed.   I'm floored that people are still - still requesting kill options for characters. And yes, of course, it's another female character.   There haven't been enough character deaths already? Really? SWTOR is a bloodbath.  

(Spoilers for just about everything up to Onslaught)

Currently, there are only five major named characters from the class stories who can be alive for everyone, or at least have not been explicitly killed off (Satele Shan, Darth Jadus, Darth Malgus, Keeper, and the Huntmaster). There are two more from the SoR era (Lana Beniko and Shae V). One of those seven is not looking too good from a current story standpoint, and another has been the target of a lot of moaning and screaming for a kill option from some women fans, who apparently think it's totally cool to exclude wlw by killing off the only major wlw character in the game.

Three major named NPCs were killed in KOTFE or KOTET. 20 more named NPCs can potentially be killed off on Nathema, which means they now do not exist for anyone's story in a major way. It's true that some of those NPCs were extremely obscure - someone's wife, a character that only appears on that one flashpoint - but many of them were major supporting characters who could have had a critical role in future story.   Out of the companions that we originally started the game with, of the original 40, 14 are killable. In one class - Sith Warrior - there is literally only one companion who can be alive for everyone, meaning that 4/5 have now been erased from the possibility of being part of the main story.   Of the companions we gained from KOTFE onward, 4/5 can be killed. The fifth is the aforementioned character from SoR who has been pulled out of a lot of story, probably thanks to the screams of the angry fans mentioned above.   That's 18 companions, dead for some and now removed from having any large role in the main story for all. Sure, they might get a cameo every now and then, or have a few lines thrown their way because they need to have some love interests, but yeah, they're not doing much.   So we get to Ossus and there are some really cool returning characters! Malora looks great! Oops. Bye. Onward to Onslaught. By the end of Onslaught, the potential exists to kill four Dark Council members. There are only six in total on the Council so you've literally almost wiped it out. Characters like Darth Savik and Darth Malora are interesting, but their only role seems to be to show up and die or flee the Council. That nice Republic general from Esseles? Not. Jonas Balkar? Later.     And no, I don't think all of them were necessary. Yes, some were. Tanno Vik's voiceover actor passed away, so he could not stay in the story. Okay. Arcann and Senya, I will grant because they are main antagonists in the story. SCORPIO? Well, they did set that one up. Skadge was total fan service, probably because a lot of people (including myself) resented having to take him on the crew during the class story. My bounty hunter would have blown him away before she would have let him anywhere near Blizz or Mako, much less on her ship. I'll concede that he was a pretty universally (but not entirely) hated character and most fans probably would not have enjoyed having him in the story.     But Aric Jorgan and Kailyo? Unnecessary. Vette and Torian? A gimmicky Virmire move to get the player angry at Vaylin and make that final fight more palatable. Koth? That one was sheer fan service. Quinn? I fucking hate Quinn and have headcanoned that he left the crew after the Quinncident back in the class story, but they didn’t need to do that. I did take the kill option on Iokath but only because the writers gave me no other way to dismiss Quinn. If one didn't choose the kill option, on the Imperial side, the only other choice was to essentially pat him on the back and say "hey, bro, just don't do it again, K? Welcome back to the family!" But so many years after the Quinncident, do you really think my Sith Warrior was sitting there stewing and fretting over Quinn enough to kill him? Honey, she won. She defeated Baras and did fabulous things and Quinn was an afterthought by that point. She wouldn't have killed him; she just would never have let him on the base at all.   And those tactics where players’ hands are forced do skew the results. If your only options are to kill someone off vs. cheerfully accepting them, you’re going to get kill simply because players want to get away from that character. It’s the same with Arcann. If Arcann had been separated from Senya’s fate and there had been an option to say “sure, yes, recover. Just not here,” I wonder if the results might have been different. But either you kill Arcann and Senya in DS choices or you have to let them take the place of your trusted advisors, so it’s one extreme or the other.  Theron? Come the fuck on. The entire traitor arc was ridiculous. They didn't need to set Theron up as a traitor to begin with. I mean, it's not as though betrayal is not a very tired old trope that's been used about a thousand times in SWTOR already.

Yes, we all know that there are kill options on most of these, so technically you can still keep them alive. But we also know that Bioware is no longer adept at keeping them in the game for those who chose to save them, so it doesn't mean much. I saved Vette on KOTET. I think she’s sent one email to me. That’s it. That’s her inclusion in the story now.  At this point, we're so low on surviving characters that we're getting ones dug up from Esseles and the heroic quest givers, and even they're biting the dust. Is Bioware bringing everyone back just to slaughter them? Is there any point getting attached or engaged with any new characters introduced since Bioware's likely going to murder them presently?   And yet, people are asking for more? They want Bioware to keep doing this? There have been complaints that this or that character gets too much screen time, but when you kill everyone else off around them, what the fuck do you think is going to happen? Do you think killing off more characters and thus giving the writers less to play with in their sandbox will make that situation change?   I'm really wondering what's going to be left in the game. We're going to end up getting our quests from the damned gonk droid because they've killed everyone else off, created an environment where there's nobody familiar and nothing more than an endless parade of characters who appear and die, and it's already making the story much less engaging, IMHO.

[squipy]

Rating every song from school's out the muscial from fairly odd parents because idk I just watched it and I'm in a kin shift

Also I'ma throw this out here none of these would actually be in my top 5 except one so yeah

Kids Just Being Kids- it's a great opener gives you a great set up to our story and is kinda catchy I think my main issue which you will see a lot in this list is I love this show to death but I'm sorry half of the cast can not sing exspically the well kids. So when this is you opener yeeeah over all this it set the tone just not really catchy or somthing I would listen on my own

Get Flappy- I really like the instermental of this one a lot like it's odly a tune that will stay in your head which dosent really fit with ys know what's happening during the song

Adults Ruin Everything-i mean there not wrong but besides that this song remember when I said the kids voice actors can't sing ....this is the one expection I have this song this song is really good like it's a bop it's top 10

Da Pixie Rap- just somthing about the pixies rapping is somthing else. Like these boring business things rapping about how they are going to make everything boring just has a weird charm

Ten and in Charge- I mean its not but my sams issue lies here timmy just can't sing which makes sense I would dislike this a lot more but the pixies save it so yeah

Pull Back the Fairies- this song HAS NO RIGHT BEING CATCHY??? like okay pop off scary leader fairy. It definitely fits him but I still have some small issues with jorgans voice like some parts of the song he sounds really fist

Where Is the Fun- I mean timmy sounds better in this song compared to others but my same issues still exist and it also doesn't stay in my head or anything. None the less I like it kinda gives a rock vibe however even the pixies sound not the best in this song however it is an important song so I give it that

Floating with You- hey remember when I said only one of these sounds would be my top 5 here it is THIS SONG!!! Has no right being so cute ;-; like all I'm saying is that if your himbo,theybo or herbo and you don't sing this on your wedding is it really meant to be /J none the less idk why I love this song it's just iebiebiebisn cute and sweet and iebeinis yeah also can I just say I love how cosmo sings the suprano part in this he cannonly sings higher than wanda

The Reprise Remix- it's kinda a remix of everything which you don't see often so I gotta say congratulations to that because even back then you didn't see this often and if works well very good recap

Unfundamentals- it's not bad stays in your head a bit makes you feel bad for the faries and everyone else odly a catchy tune for such a horrible situation

The Reprise Remix- I actually like this concept it's a combination of most of the songs and they all work really well together kinda wish more muscial episodes back then and today did this

Kids Just Being Kids (Reprise)- I mean same thing we the first song I don't mind it just I don't like how timmy sounds

Over all this is actually one of my favorite episodes/special's I'm a sucker for muscials and such anyways I'ma vibe in this kin shift see ya

[haledamage]

Hug prompts: 1 for Marii/Theron and/or 13 for Ves/Jorgan

13. Goodbye hug (Ves/Jorgan)

“I should be going with you, sir.”

“We’ve been over this.” Ves bit back a sigh as she turned to face Aric, dropping her hand away from the door panel to exit the ship. He glowered at the door like it was responsible for their current predicament before turning that intensity back on her. 

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” He grabbed her elbow and leaned close, voice low and urgent. “If not me, then Dorne. Or hell, even Vik. You shouldn’t be going over there alone.”

“Aric, I’ll be fine.” She put a hand on his chest, though he wouldn’t really be able to feel it through his armor. She added pointedly, hoping he’d hear what she wasn’t saying, “It’s not Marr and his people I’m worried about. Stay on the ship, keep it warm for me, and keep an eye out.”

“Ves…”

“That’s an order, Captain.”

“Yes, sir,” he said automatically, but he managed to fit a lot of frustration and concern into those two words. He pulled her into a crushing hug and they stayed like that for a while, only parting when her comm gave a warning beep that she was running late. Aric let her go, but then pressed his forehead to hers. “Watch your back.”

“You too.” Ves kissed her husband, but didn’t let herself linger. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She opened the door and stepped through it before he could stop her again. She nodded at him and then turned to face her Imperial escort as the door to her ship hissed shut behind her.

(the other is much longer (and also less angsty) so it’s under the cut)

1. Hug from behind (Marii/Theron)

Marii opened her eyes, glancing around her dark, barely-familiar bedroom for what dragged her from her sleep. She was aware of three things: first, that she was in the Alliance base on Odessen; second, that it was very, very late; and third, she was alone.

She rolled over anyway, like she expected to be wrong about that last point, but the other side of the bed was still untouched. Wherever Theron was, it wasn’t here. It was nice to know some things never changed.

She’d only been with the Alliance for less than a week, after Theron and Vesiya found her in the lower parts of Zakuul. Long enough for it to start to feel familiar, for everyone to get back to work, but not enough yet for them to find a job for her to do. She spent her days wandering the base looking for people that needed her help - not much different than what she’d been doing on Zakuul, actually, but now with a greater purpose behind it.

Staring at the empty bed did not, unsurprisingly, make her boyfriend magically materialize next to her. With a sigh, Marii sat up and threw on some clothes. Theron’s jacket hung on a hook by the door, the red a bright flash of color in the dim lights. The fact that it was there meant he had at least considered coming to bed at some point, before some priority message no doubt called him back to work.

On a whim, she pulled the jacket down and slipped it on. She loved wearing it any chance she got, loved the weight of it, the way it was just a little too big on her, the way it smelled like him. It felt like belonging. Even after all these years, it was still a bit thrilling to advertise their relationship so publicly.

The halls were dark and empty except for a few night guards, the hum of life and activity now muted and serene. Somewhere deeper into the natural caverns they’d built the base into, she could just make out the sound of dripping water, and past that, the familiar whirring of Teeseven’s servos. In the opposite direction, pale light filtered down the hall, flickering on the stone and durasteel walls. Her footsteps made no noise as she followed the light toward the Alliance’s command center.

Sure enough, there he was. Theron was hunched over one of the consoles in the otherwise empty war room, the blue light making his face look pale and drawn, the angles too sharp, the shadows around his eyes too dark. Still, he was beautiful. Her heart fluttered in her chest like it always did when she looked at him. It had been months since they’d seen each other outside of holos, while he’d been busy helping build a rebellion against the Eternal Empire and she’d been sowing unrest and being hunted as a terrorist by Emperor Arcann. It was nice just to enjoy the sight of him for a moment.

She padded quietly up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly, leaning her head between his shoulder blades.

“I really hope that’s my girlfriend,” Theron said dryly, not looking up from his work, “or you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Hey, you,” Marii murmured fondly into his shirt, kissing his shoulder.

“Hey.” He didn’t exactly relax at the sound of her voice, but he let his guard down a little. Enough that she could feel how tired he was, how happy he was to have her here. “What’re you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Looks like I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah.” He covered her hands with one of his, giving them an affectionate squeeze, though his other hand was still typing something into the console. “I just had a couple of things to finish up really quick.”

She slipped under his arm to stand in front of him, arms still around him. He smiled at her, though he didn’t take his eyes off his work. “Theron, it’s 3 in the morning.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He pressed a sweet but distracted kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep, Marii. I’ll be there soon.”

“How can I help?”

“What?” That seemed to finally get his attention, at least.

“It’s pretty clear I’m not getting you back until you’re finished with whatever you’re doing, so I’m going to help.” She could feel him digging his metaphorical heels in, ready to disagree with her, even if only just for the sake of disagreeing. She put a finger under his chin, gently but firmly dragging his eyes away from the console, if only for a moment. “Theron, you are the smartest, cleverest, and hardest working man I’ve ever met.”

“You forgot handsomest,” he deadpanned.

She smiled, but continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “You are also stubborn as a ronto and so self-sacrificing you could make the Jedi jealous.” She slid her hand up to cup his face, sweeping her thumb along his cheek. “You are not the only person keeping the Alliance running. You don’t need to set yourself on fire to keep the rest of us warm. So either you let me help you or you point me to someone who can.”

Theron closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Marii could feel the moment he gave in barely a second before he let out a long sigh and said, “Okay. Tomorrow you, me, and Lana can sit down and see what needs doing.”

“Good. That’s a start.” She kissed the corner of his mouth.

He curled his hand around the nape of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” She kissed the other side. She could feel his smile widen as she did. 

“I’m lucky to have you,” he corrected easily, like he always did.

“Better,” she replied, like she always did. This time, she kissed him properly. He melted into it, work all but forgotten. “I love you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“Maybe tomorrow, I can take some extra time for lunch.” She couldn’t help the wide smile at that offer, and he took it as the encouragement it was meant to be. He pulled her closer and added, “We can go for a walk or something. Spend some time together, just the two of us. I can finally give you a tour of the base.”

“I’d like that,” she murmured against his lips. “You know what I’d like better?”

“Hmm.”

“Come to bed.”

Theron laughed, “All right. Fine. You win. Just give me five minutes.”

“That’s fair.” After one last kiss, she slipped out of his arms in an effort to stop distracting him and turned to head back down the hall. At the door, she turned back around with a grin. “Oh, and Theron? Handsomest too.”

The pale light did a remarkable job at highlighting the way he blushed at that. “You don’t have to–I was just joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” Theron was so charming, but he was delightfully easy to fluster. Marii took advantage of that fact every chance she got. “You should have heard some of the things I told Kira, after I first met you.”

He ducked his head, but it didn’t hide the pleased little smile on his face. “What, uh, what kind of things?”

She beckoned him to follow her. She could feel how much he wanted to. “Come to bed and I’ll tell you.” With a wink, she disappeared back into the darkness of the hallway.

[forcedcompanionsdaycare]

Forced Companions Daycare, 002

On TUESDAYS, FCD is staffed by KHEM VAL and LORD SCOURGE.

BABY KALIYO: Hey! Hey, Elara! Is there a form you can fill out for being a big dummyface? BABY SKADGE: I think she ran out of those this morning! BABY ELARA toddles away with all the dignity she can manage and sits down by the bookshelf. BABY JORGAN: These guys just aren't letting up today. You okay? BABY ELARA: It's quite all right. I'll file an MF-13 report with Mister Lord Scourge before I leave today. BABY JORGAN: We have numbered reports for being mean? BABY ELARA: Several, depending on severity and general subject matter. BABY JORGAN: What I mean is, this daycare has numbered reports for that kind of thing? BABY ELARA: ...I print and number them myself. It'll improve efficiency once the system is universally adopted. BABY JORGAN: Well, I can't argue with your organizational skills. Hey, want to go build a Senate building out of blocks? BABY ELARA perks up. BABY ELARA: Can we construct it to satisfy Block Building Codes 2F through 2K? BABY JORGAN: Uh...if it makes you happy, sure. We could send the leftover materials back Skadge's way at high speed if you want. BABY ELARA: Jorgan! I would have to report myself! Also you. BABY JORGAN: You can’t report us if somebody ate the MF forms. Hey! Guss! Over here!

[crqstalite]

hey please be throwing stuff at my fic recs page (more accurately, my inbox) so i can read stuff over the break and not grow bored and post unholy fanfics.

love interests i love!

theron shan (i adore the way melissagt writes him), andronikos revel (see previous note), lana beniko (though i haven’t run her path yet), zenith (fandom, i beg of you, write more of him, i love my consular’s sniper), doc, kira carsen, lieutenant iresso, aric jorgan, elara dorne, vector hyllus.

love interests i like!

risha, akaavi spar, malavai quinn, koth vortena, mako, torian cadera, major anri (if there are any i need them now), lord cytharat (have yet to run his path w a male warrior preferably), lord scourge, jonas balkar

love interests im okay with!

arcann (anyone from zakuul honestly), vette (vette is more of a sister character to me than a love interest, but i’ll read her as long as it doesn’t take advantage of her past for story purposes)

love interests i won’t read!

nadia grell (a baby) ashara zaavros (also a baby), darth marr (?), satele shan (tf she’s theron’s mom), senya (she’s team mom like tf), jaesa willsaam (very dangerous), skavak (h-he’s dead dude) kaliyo djannis (no reason other than that i don’t like her character, i’d post a rant but you’d grow tired of me very quickly.)

love interests i’m unsure about but will still read!

lemda avesta (haven’t run a pub through makeb, i got bored halfway through and hit 55 so i played shadow instead), raina temple, and any flirty choices through the story. like chance from the imp agent.

i have played the entire game (except for the second arc of makeb but i get the gist of it), so spoilers are good. keep in mind, i am *technically* 15, so while blantant hardcore smut probably isn’t the great recommendation for me, it also isn’t like i haven’t be exposed to it. 

go my friends! find me new reading material!

[wolfboywarmachine]

They’ve been on assignment for a month now, and Haem’s talking to someone in the living room. He’s not so quiet Theron can’t hear him, but he’s not being as loud as usual either, so there’s clearly some effort being made. Theron should probably tell him he can hear, or at least stop listening, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine,” Haem says, sounding exasperated. “It’s fine, honestly.” He pauses.  “I like him,” he says, and Theron’s eyes widen. He can’t be talking about Theron. He can’t. But who the hell else is even around? It’s just been the two of them. Okay. Fine. He’s talking about Theron. “He’s a dick, but I like him,” Haem says, which is more on-brand for him. “Really. Stars, what do you want me to say? That I want him to rail me? Because I do, but that’s beside the point.”  Is he talking about Theron? It’s the only logical conclusion. But that’d mean -  Theron doesn’t know what to do with that. Haem wants him? “You asked,” Haem says, raising his voice a little. “Don’t blame me just cause you didn’t like the answer.” Another pause. “Fine. Tell Jorgan I said good luck getting the stick out of his ass. Yeah. I know, I know.” He’s quiet for long enough Theron thinks maybe he’s hung up.  “Don’t get sappy on me,” he says, and Theron startles a little. “Love you too.” The last part is mumbled.  There’s a long, heavy sigh.  Theron doesn’t know what to do. Does he go back to his room? Does he walk in? Does he -  “Theron,” Haem calls. “For a spy, you aren’t really subtle.”  Damn it. He’s more cautious walking down the hallway than he’d been when Lana broke in. At least then he’d had a blaster to hide behind. Better the Sith than Haem, after what he’d said. “Relax,” Haem says, once Theron’s in his view. He’s sprawled across the couch carelessly, rolling his eyes at Theron. “I’m not going to bite you. How much of that did you hear?” “Enough.”  Haem nods thoughtfully. “Okay,” he says. “Well. I didn’t think I was being sneaky about it anyway, so.” His shirt is riding up at his waist, exposing bare stomach. Theron tries not to look.  “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”  He can’t tell why he’s so rattled by this. He’s a long way past any sexuality crisises, and Haem’s...he’s attractive, sure, that’s not in question. But he’s Haem. Theron doesn’t make a habit of sleeping around, and definitely not with people he works with, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted.  “I wasn’t,” he says. “I’m not,” and Haem’s eyes close, but the self-satisfied smirk doesn’t leave his face.  “Sure,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to push it. I’m an asshole, but even I have standards.” He rolls onto his stomach, face pressed into the couch. Theron swears his hips lift up a little, that his back arches. Bullshit he’s not going to push it.  But he can’t mention that, or he’d be admitting he was looking.  “Who were you talking to?” He doesn’t know if he should ask or not. It’s none of his business. He doubts he’d give a direct answer if their roles were reversed. Haem doesn’t seem phased, though. “My cousin.”  "You told your cousin you wanted me to rail you?" Theron's incredulous enough for his filter to lapse.  "He was asking questions. Not my fault he didn't like what he heard." He's still buried face-down. "Probably wouldn't have been so descriptive if I knew you were eavesdropping, but hey."  Theron swallows hard. "It was sure...vivid."  "Wasn't it just?"  He stretches a little, hips wriggling, and it's definitely intentional that time. It has to be. "Okay," Theron says, feeling uncomfortably aware of his own body. "I'm going to go work on decrypting those files you pulled today."  He doesn't get acknowledgement beyond a breathy sigh as he leaves the room.

[scionprotector]

Fluff starter: “You smell really nice.”

Exhaustion had long since set in for the Twi’lek, but she found herself willing one foot in front of the other towards her quarters. Valkorian was right about one thing: she wasn’t used to fighting alone anymore. She relied too much on others, she knew, but it was her source of strength. Where so many saw it as a weakness, she knew it was quite the opposite for her. The people she surrounded herself with made her stronger because their strengths only complemented her weaknesses.

The entire mission with Jorgan and Kaliyo only proved that point. They had done so much without her, gotten the pair further than she would’ve been able to on her own. Yet she couldn’t help but stress alongside them when the communications went down, and they had no idea where they were. All she - and they - could do was hope.

It was Lana that encouraged her to sleep, likely feeling a bit guilty that it was her that sent Vayllaa into the jungles of Odessen earlier. The others probably knew that something was wrong when Vayllaa didn’t protest. Her entire body ached, weary from being smacked around by the wildlife. How the others managed to fight while getting beat up by random birds, she had no idea. 

She reached the door to her quarters when the gentle hand settled upon her shoulder, her body immediately tensing as she started to spin to face it. “Hey, it’s me.” The familiar dulcet tone had her sighing, easing into the touch instantly.

“I really must be tired. I didn’t hear you, at all. Shouldn’t you be...?” 

Theron drew up against her back, curling his arms around her and burying his face against her neck. “You’re exhausted. I came to make sure you were alright, and didn’t need someone to encourage you to take a dip in some kolto.”

She chuckled dryly, reaching out to press open the door, offering up no resistance as he ‘lumbered’ the way forward. At that point, he wasn’t quite completely carrying her weight, but she was definitely slumping backwards into him. “I’m okay. I’ll be sore for awhile, but nothing feels broken or anything.” 

He pressed his lips against her jawline, squeezing her gently in a loose hug. “Understood. I’ll bring some patches by for you, once you’re in bed.” 

“Keep this up, and you’re just going to leave me frustrated and sore, instead of just sore,” she muttered, bringing her hand up to run her fingers through his hair, mussing up his mohawk. 

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re up for being additionally sore,” he teased her, guiding her into the bedroom.

“For you? Maybe. But it’d be better in the morning, when I can actually enjoy it instead of worry that I’ll fall asleep mid-fuck.”

Theron laughed at that, as he eased the jacket off her shoulders. “I’m glad I keep you so entertained, Vay.”

“Better than anyone I’ve met before, Ther,” she assured him, although her words slurred a bit as she crawled into the bed, Theron tugging her pants off once she was in it. “You staying?”

“Later. I’m going to get you some kolto, first.”

“Ther, please? Just...” Vayllaa’s head dropped onto the pillow, mentally drained along with the physical exhaustion she felt. “...I need you right now, not kolto.” She could almost hear his hesitation, but soon the rustling of clothes was her response, followed by bare footsteps around the bed. As soon as she felt the bed sink, an arm settled around her waist as he tugged her to him, allowing her to bury herself against him. Burying her face against his chest, she let his presence surround her. Of everyone she was finding herself most reliant upon in her newest crew, it was the man who enveloped her at that moment... and she couldn’t bring herself to not rely on him. 

“You smell really nice,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep. The chuckle she got in response warmed her, and she felt him shift to settle his head against the top of hers. 

“It’s all the pheromones I give off. Get some sleep, Vay. I’ll be here in the morning.” 

In her exhaustion, she didn’t even reply. Content in his arms, she dozed off quickly, wrapped up in the blanket that was Theron Shan. It was the best sleep she’d had in ages.

[kunoichi-ume]

First Time For Everything

Another in the set of Life Day/Christmas prompts @cinlat sent me. This one was for my Jurr/Aric ship and guest starring Darvic Lewton, Noara’s biological brother I made ages ago but never wrote in anything. He is a trooper but not “the” trooper, just another soldier on Jurr’s crew.

Prompt: “How could you not like the holidays?!”

Sergeant Darvic Lewton hummed a Life Day tune while he worked on spiking his hair perfectly. His younger sister Juliaddi was always making fun of him for the pride he took in his hair, especially when it would be ruined the moment he put his helmet on, but it didn’t deter him from wanting to look his best.

Though it made him wonder if his older sister would tease him too, or if she was as particular about her hair as he was. He tried to ignore the painful thought that he might never know.

Instead Darvic focused on how excited he was to see his family in a little over a week. Life Day was always a big event in the Lewton household, with a tree and all the trimmings. Mom always made a huge feast and dad made the best sweetberry custard pies. This year even Juli had promised to come home. It would be the whole family, save Noara, for the first time in years.

Darvic sighed, dropping his hands. She was never far from his mind this time of year, same as when her birthday came around. He had tried to understand, really, he had, why his parents had given his sister up to the Jedi - but he couldn’t. Not without knowing if she was okay, if she was happy and healthy. They didn’t even know if she was alive.

Moving away from the mirror in his room, Darvic pulled a holo out of the top drawer of his nightstand. It was the only picture he had of her, just a smiling toddler with hair as dark as his and eyes an even lighter blue. He smiled at the joy on her face, hoping the Jedi didn’t take that away from her. He had heard countless stories about how the Jedi didn’t have emotions and while he didn’t believe that was true, he couldn’t help but worry that they might have repressed the joyful child his parents remembered.  

“I am going to find you,” Darvic said. It was a promise he had made himself when he was a much younger man. He would find his big sister.

But he wasn’t going to manage that sulking in his room. Hiding her picture away and checking his hair one last time, Darvic set off to find out what his bosses were up to.

It was little surprise to find Captain Jinn and the LT together. They tried to hide it, but it was obvious they were in a relationship. He had tried to talk to Elara about it, but the serious medic hadn’t felt it was appropriate to discuss the private dealings of their superior officers.

That was another reason to look forward to getting a break at home. Juli and Baylii, his teenage sister, were always ready to hear the latest gossip and they would eat up his stories of his grumpy LT and the fiery Captain.

“Hey Cap’n,” he said with a grin as he dropped into a chair across from Jurr.

Jinn looked up from the datapad she was sketching on and raised the eyebrow above her one eyes. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Darvic shrugged, “just looking forward to the holiday.”

She narrowed an amber eye suspiciously at him before shrugging and looking back down at her pad. The Captain never let him see what she drew, but he knew she had a good eye for color – the murals painted on every bare wall inside the ship proved that.

Lieutenant Jorgan didn’t say anything, just sent his subordinate an annoyed look while he leaned against the back of Jinn’s chair. While Darvic and Elara were never privy to her art, Jorgan almost always sat next to her and watched her sketch over her shoulder.

And they thought no one knew they were dating.  

It was hard not to wonder how that worked, Jorgan was the grumpiest man Darvic had ever met and Jinn was, well… she was a bit odd. It was understandable, her memory hinged on the hardware in her head so there were often gaps in her comprehension. The Cathar didn’t seem like the kind of man to have the patience for that but obviously appearances were deceiving. If only he had as much patience when he put Darvic through drills.

Reaching across the table, Darvic snagged a piece of candy out of the bowl in front of Jinn. Popping it into his mouth he reached for a second one, laughing when she smacked his hand.

“What’s with you two grumps, aren’t you excited for Life Day?”

Jorgan scoffed, “what’s to be excited about? It’s just a lot of fuss and trouble like all holidays.”

“What? How can you not like the holidays?” Darvic wasn’t sure why it surprised him, but at least he expected Jorgan to like the time off they go every year for Life Day. He turned to Jurr after the Cathar shrugged noncommittedly at his questions. “Jinn, you like them, right?”

She sighed heavily, brow furrowing in annoyance but didn’t look up to meet his questioning gaze.

Laying his hand on her shoulder, Jorgan leaned closer with a concerned expression Darvis wasn’t used to seeing on the Lieutenant’s face. “Jurr?”

Looking up Darvic caught a glimpse of sadness in her amber eye before it was gone, hidden behind the mask the woman always put up when she was uncomfortable. “I like Halloween, it’s all about sweets but,” she shrugged, “Life Day is more of a family thing so…” Her voice trailed off and while Jorgan gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze Darvic stared at her expectantly.

Noticing his expression, Jurr’s face flushed and she stood quickly. Hugging her datapad to her chest she glared down at the soldier. “I’ve never celebrated it okay,” she snapped before turning on her heel and retreating to her room.

Fixing Darvic with an even sterner glare, Jorgan almost growled when he spoke. “You just had to ask, didn’t you?”

Holding up his hands, Darvic leaned away from the Cathar. “How was I supposed to know? Who doesn’t celebrate Life Day?”

Jorgan sighed, the anger in his face replaced by a sad expression. “Orphans Darvic. Orphans.”

Darvic swallowed, feeling like he had been punched in the gut. Jurr never talked about her past, or anyone outside the crew other than her Jedi friend Trev, but it had never occurred to him that the reason for that was because there was no one else to talk about. Now he felt terribly guilty for all the time he had talked about his own family, he had even told Jurr over a few beers not long after he joined the squad about his personal mission to find his lost sister. How must she have felt, knowing her own family was gone, and here he was telling her about his parents and two little sisters and still not being satisfied?

“You do realize of course,” Jorgan said, pulling him out of the dark path his thoughts were on, “you have to help me fix this now?”

Darvic nodded quickly. “Just tell me what to do.”

There were few things Jurr liked more than spending time at the shooting range, especially with a new toy. Darvic had gotten her a new blaster for the holiday, despite her protests that she didn’t have anything for him and didn’t celebrate the day, and immediately insisted they go test it out. She was partly sure he was just doing this because of her little scene the other day, but she couldn’t help it. This time of year sucked, every year.

It would be one thing if she just didn’t remember having a family. There were lots of things she didn’t remember, but this one thing she couldn’t stand not knowing because of what it meant. The staff at the hospital hadn’t been able to contact her family, not without her name, but had sent her picture and description to all the major law enforcement agencies in the Republic. If anyone had bothered to report her missing they would have found her. In the decade or so since the accident, no one had ever come looking leading Jurr to only two conclusions. They were dead, killed by the same accident that had dictated the course of her life and she was truly an orphan, or they never looked for her and honestly anyone who didn’t search for a child they lost wasn’t someone she wanted in her life.

Either way, it was sweet of Darvic to try and cheer her up. The squad Jurr had inherited from Tavus’ betrayal was the closest she had ever felt to belonging to a family. She even hugged him before they went their separate ways so he could head home to Ord Mantell.

Trying vainly not to be jealous or to imagine what it must be like to have a family to go home to, to celebrate with, Jurr made her way back to the Fury with plans to make herself a stiff drink and curl up with her datapad. When she stepped into the main room of the ship however, all her plans were forgotten as she tried to process what she was seeing.

The overhead lighting were dimmed and hanging from the ceiling was strands of brightly colored lights, casting the room in shades of red, green, gold, blue, and purple. Coupled with the murals she had painted on the empty walls Jurr had never seen any room more colorful. It was beautiful, and she was so taken back by the sight she didn’t immediately notice the growled cursing from the kitchen.

Following the impressive stream of obscenities, Jurr found Aric glaring at what might have at one point been food but now resembled charcoal. Leaning against the door frame her eye raked over his body. He had traded her usual outfit for a pair of fitted pants and a soft looking black sweater that was begging her to run her hands all over him. When he bent over to pull a dish out of the oven, one that looked even more burnt than the first one, she bit her lip to keep from commenting on how well his trousers fit his ass but couldn’t stop from making an appreciative hum.

Whipping around, Aric gave her a slightly panicked look. “You’re early.”

Jurr shook her head. “No, I’m not. I think you just got distracted,” she said, stepping into the room before gesturing at the stove and the room behind her. “What is all this soldier?”

Aric shuffled his feel, not meeting her gaze for a moment before shooting her a hopeful look. “Do you like it? Is it too much?”

“It’s so colorful, I love it.” Jurr grinned, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him. “They are Life Day lights, aren’t they?”

“They are.”

Leaning back to see his face, Jurr frowned. “I thought you said the holiday was too much fuss?”

Aric shrugged. “Spending them with you doesn’t seem so bad.”

Jurr’s heart soared at his words. Aric wasn’t the kind of man to go out of his way for someone unless he wanted to so him changing his mind about holidays because he wanted to spend them with her meant a lot. She could have never imagined anyone caring about her so much, in fact the fear of never being loved had kept her up more than once. She wasn’t sure she could ever truly express to him how much his presence meant to her, that he made the future less daunting to a woman with a constantly disappearing past.

Moving one of her hands to the back of his neck, she pulled him down for a kiss. “I might just love you Aric Jorgan.”

“Good,” he replied with a grin, flashing sharp teeth. “Are you hungry?”

Jurr frowned, looking around his shoulder to the two dishes of charcoal on the stove. “I know I said I love you, and I do, but maybe not that much.”

“Hey that’s uncalled for,” he groused, smacking her ass in mock reprimand. “For your information smart ass, dinner will be here in 20 minutes.”

“But you tried to cook me dinner?” Jurr asked with a grin, running her hands over her torso and reveling in the feel of soft material over firm muscles. “Even though you told me you can’t cook?”

Aric looked away and Jurr was sure if he didn’t have fur to hide behind he would be blushing. “I wanted your first Life Day to be good, one to remember.”

“Oh, I will remember this,” she laughed before her smile fell. “But don’t you exchange presents on Life Day?” Aric nodded, and she pouted, “you did all this for me and I don’t have anything for you. If you had told me I would have gotten you something special too.”

Aric shook his head, cupping her face in his hands. “I don’t need anything from you Jurr. You being here and with me is more than enough. It’s everything I could ever ask for.”

[shimmersing]

Queued

Characters: Erithon Zale, Republic Trooper; Aitahea Daviin, Jedi Consular; Elara Dorne; respective Trooper & Consular crewmembers.

Setting: The Trooper’s Ship, Triumph Rising, immediately prior to Corellia

Spoilers: Through Chapter 3

Summary: Cut off from communications and distractions while in hyperspace, Erithon finds himself penning a desperate missive to a certain Jedi… but does he have the courage to send it? Meanwhile, the Barsen’thor considers the larger ramifications of her personal decisions, and even the Force brings no comfort.

Notes: Solidly inspired by Lauv’s “i’m so tired…” and thank you to @taraum for beta-reading. <3

“I’m so tired of love songs,” Erithon muttered, muting the crackling audio and flipping the datapad to the end of his bunk. They were en route to Corellia, open war calling Havoc to the front lines. Everything was a disaster.

Erithon snatched up the datapad again. “Thanks but no thanks, Galactic Top Forty,” he grumbled, scrolling through the limited music they’d picked up while in orbit over Voss. Being both isolated and neutral, the list of updates from the Core was woefully small.

Once in hyperspace, Erithon and his crew had found themselves with several hours to kill before reaching Corellia. Havoc was doing their usual routines to prep for a challenging mission: Elara & Aric having a pleasant argument about regulations, Yuun meditating or researching, Vik had taken up trying to teach Forex to play sabaac (strangely, the droid couldn’t seem to outwit the Weequay after two weeks; Vik was of course cheating).

Erithon had promised Elara he’d try to sleep.

[AO3 flavor found here.]

But every little noise the Triumph Rising made as she careened through hyperspace got on Erithon’s last nerve, conjuring visions of impossible stray hyperspace garbage tearing his ship to pieces, or dropping out of hyperspace out to find Corellia in Imperial hands and his allies in the hands of-

Augh, stop it.

So he turned on the only music he could find in the datapad’s drive, something months old already, never listened to. A young man opined about love songs, perhaps a statement on the music business more than his actual love life.

It was something Aitahea had recommended, laughing that she had a youngling’s taste in music, but she had been raised in Jedi enclaves after all. Of course that was ridiculous because despite saying that, she’d sent him everything from a rare recording of the Cathedral of Winds to some cantina band off Tattooine.

Her galaxy seemed so expansive, so engaging, and he had somehow found a place in it. He wasn’t about to let that go just because the war was back on and the Core Worlds were fracturing and-

He saw the messages icon out of the corner of his eye, blinking in electronic frustration when it couldn’t connect to the holonet feed, interrupted as they were in hyperspace.

A message.

Why not? He wasn’t sleeping, so he might as well make the most of his time.

***

Listen.

I love you.

I should have told you on Voss. By the Core I should have told you on Alderaan if I’m being either honestly stupid or stupidly honest, probably both. I’m not sappy enough to take “love at first sight” seriously, and I don’t think you are, either. But we’re living out some old fairytale here, don’t you think?  

I’m sorry I kissed you on Nar Shaddaa. No, I mean, I’m not. I mean, I took advantage of our position. But then you kissed me back, and then you were mad about that, and it was a screw up, but I can’t bring myself to regret it.

I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you on Voss. You have never failed to give everything for everyone, no matter who they are. From the moment we met - on Taris I mean, not to mention when we were kids but that’s a whole other message to be honest.

I don’t remember giving anyone permission to write me as the love interest in a holodrama. Where was I?

Every time we meet somehow you end up in my arms, and I haven’t stopped feeling thrilled when I find you there again. I’ve seen you take your gloves off when you see me coming. Not for your crew, not for mine, not for the damn Jedi Council or the Chancellor. Me.

So on Voss there you were in my arms again and for a minute I thought you were dying, and I couldn’t tell you I loved you and that there was so much that I did and didn’t regret saying and doing. For you. With you.

And Corellia will probably kill us so I needed you to know. I’m okay if we can’t be together, I can accept that, and I’m not sure what I’ve done in this life to deserve someone like you anyway.

You told me once we found each other when we needed the other most. I have never needed, wanted, anything more in my entire life than you. It’s complicated, I know, but if we somehow survive this I promise it’ll be worth it.

See you soon.

***

Erithon pushed send.

Fuck.

He punched at the screen a few times, frowned, and then his eyes went wide. “Wait. The relay. Wait.”

This is bad very bad but there’s maybe a chance-

Erithon skidded out of his quarters and through the ship looking for Dorne.

“Elara!” he called, fighting to keep his voice even. The medic appeared in the doorway of the med bay alone, eyes still on her datapad. Erithon exhaled explosively, relieved. “Hey, Elara, can you delete a message from the hyperspace relay queue?”

Dorne dropped her “Per regulations, sir, I’m not allowed, it would have to be you or Jorgan. I can only-”

“Fine, permission granted, whatever, can you do it? You have the helm, so I’m locked out of messaging administration.”

“Are you off duty then, sir? I can only return you to service after you’ve rested the allotted period, and it’s only-” Dorne paused to glance at her chrono and Erithon took the opportunity to interrupt the fastidious officer again.

“Elara, it was to Aitahea.”

Dorne’s face went deathly still for a moment before she recovered her usual aplomb. “I take your meaning, sir. Give me a few moments.”

Dorne rushed back into the med bay while Erithon paced the room a few times. He looked at an old analogue chrono on the wall (when had they gotten that?) and watched the seconds tick by. How long had it been? When were they due to drop out of hyperspace?

“Sir?”

Erithon jumped at Elara’s soft query, wrapped tight in his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“It’s taken care of, sir.” Elation clasped her hands in front of her, flustered. “Yes, sir.” She pauses for a moment, gathering her courage. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Of course,” Erithon replied, distracted by relief.

“Sir, we all adore Master Aitahea. Even Vik, I think. And we can see that…” Elara shifted awkwardly. “She’s important to you. We understand if that means things here have to change.”

Erithon turned to look at his medical officer with hollow eyes. “I can’t get an answer out of her, Elara. And now we’re in open war, it just can’t be. She’s a Jedi.”

“Sir, I’ve actually studied the Jedi recently. It’s rare for them to establish romantic relationships, but not completely unheard of. They have some regulations, not dissimilar to our own.”

Erithon chuckled. “Five credits you know what forms are required from memory.”

“It’s form number fourteen hundred thirty-two A for the ranking officer and number fourteen hundred thirty-seven B for the lower rank, unless one isn’t in the-”

“Thanks, Elara, I get the point.”

“The Barsen’thor technically outranks you, sir.”“Elara.”

The woman sighed. “Sorry, sir.” She turned back towards the medbay, giving her a sidelong glance, a mix of pity and concern. “Page me if you need anything, sir.”

“Yeah.” Erithon missed her pointed expression, back to exploring his snarled feelings.