#Galactic will be charged for 2 murders
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tremendouskoalachild · 2 months ago
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> be Krix Kamerat
> little 15-year-old blond bitch
> either an orphan taken in by an anti-Force-use cult or born into it and raised communally, either way no parents
> only family is your best friend who you’re beginning to have a crush on but suspect she loves her pet more than you
> galactic terrorists come to your commune to kidnap a leader of your cult before the planet gets destroyed by the fallout of their terrorism
> the Jedi show up to stop them and that’s obviously a bigger problem
> best friend is secretly a Force user and you get big mad
> cult leader convinces kidnapper terrorists to bring you with as a way to save you
> betray cult leader to get in with terrorist leader
> try to do a double agent thing and either lure the jedi into a trap or convince ex-friend to go back in the closet for you
> terrorist leader compliments you, gives you his old helmet, and puts you in charge of a minor terror cell
> father figure acquired
> a year passes
> get a douchy new haircut and copy your terrorist dad’s wardrobe
> beg for responsibility enough that you are told to blow up a temple defended by a single person
> fuck it up
> get your ass saved by your competent underling
> a year passes
> be put in charge of a Corellia operation but your underling is actually running it more than you are, and is transparently plotting to kill you
> underling successfully sets you up and tells you to kill yourself
> get captured by ex-friend and her gal pal instead
> talk to ex-friend for the first time in like 2 years and she is so mean to you :(
> get out of jail thanks to terrorist dad’s plot to destroy the station you are on
> pick a fight with ex-friend’s gal pal while the station is crashing into the planet
> survive the crash but get put in republic jail right after
> also gal pal steals your fucking fur coat
> a year passes with no rescue attempt
> try the double agent angle again and petition the republic to recruit you to assassinate terrorist dad
> pink hair teen breaks into the prison to kill you but is so enamored by your plan that she breaks you out instead
> everyone thinks your plans to kill terrorist deadbeat dad are stupid and your assassins all fail
> steal a ship and go kill him on your own
> fail and barely escape, get recaptured by pink hair’s team who all hate you
> terrorist dad notices you exist for the first time in like 2 years and invites you on his ship
> try to do the double agent thing again and he isn’t buying it at all
> calls you a pathetic little bitch and tells his guys to kill you
> try to kill him by tossing a grenade at him at close proximity
> fuck even that up
> die
> pink hair has a happy reunion with your ex-friend and her gal pal, who are engaged, and nobody mentions you
> your death is referred to as Arathab Fal’s murder in a random failed assassination attempt and your name is not brought up
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mrs-gucci · 2 years ago
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It’s Just Politics (Part 1 of 2)
Commander Mills x senator!Reader (f)
written for my welcome back celebration, phase one. 
y’all voted, y’all wanted me to write some more Mills, so here I am :) this is part one of two, so enjoy the beginning of the story and get excited for part two which will be coming soon!!
content warnings. accidentally walking in on someone naked (he walks in on her), implied/mentioned age difference (gap not specified, Mills is 36)
word count: 3.4k (...whoops)
summary~ Commander Mills reluctantly takes a last-minute job captaining the Senator of Somaris’s personal ship on a flight to Cyllene for this year’s galactic policy conference. Both of them get much, much more than they bargained for...but they’re not necessarily complaining about it.
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"You're kidding me."
Jai shakes his head, continuing to submit order forms for ship parts.
"I'm dead serious, man. Travis wants you to do it, it'll pay well, and you won't be gone for that long. At least two weeks, it's just to Cyllene for the annual galactic policy conference. Simple."
"Nothing is ever simple with her, you know that. She's impossible to deal with." Mills huffs. "What happened to her captain? Why can't he do it?"
"Dunno. I think he transferred or is off on a long-range mission. I can't remember, but you should take it. Even though the Senator is a bit of a difficult client, she has a lot of power and could easily help you get a higher-paying job."
Mills knows Jai is right. He should take this job; he needs the money after paying for Nevine's treatments. He has to continue supporting his wife even if their marriage is a bit on the rocks.
"Fine," he says after a moment. "I'll tell Travis that I'll take the job."
Jai smiles, walking past his coworker and giving him a pat on the back as he does so. He lets out a soft chuckle. "Good man. Just...try not to kill her, okay?"
Mills hums, smiling ever so slightly.
"No promises."
***
"Are all of my dresses packed properly?" you ask the service droid as it begins to load your things onto the dolly. "It's of the utmost importance that they not be wrinkled. I want to represent Somaris to the best of my ability at this year's conference."
"Yes, Mistress," the droid says. "I made sure to pack each one myself."
You nod slightly. "Good. Thank you, I always appreciate your hard work, PZ."
"Of course. I am always at your service, Senator."
PZ finishes loading the bags and quickly takes them to the royal vessel while you prepare for the long journey ahead. You always hate going up into space, but unfortunately, it's an integral part of your job, so you have to do it more often than you'd prefer.
You walk to the docking bay, and you stop as soon as you see him walking towards your ship.
"You're kidding me."
Mills huffs out a soft laugh as he passes you. "Yeah, that's what I said too."
"Tell me you're not the one flying the ship. Please, please tell me you're not in charge of this trip--" You catch up to him.
"I need the money, alright?" Mills says, jaw clenching. "That's the only reason I agreed to it. Trust me, I wish I didn't have to, but there's hardly any work for pilots right now."
"No need to give me your whole life story, Mills. I won't cry you a river like others may have."
You roll your eyes and walk towards the ship ramp, immediately colliding with him. Apparently, he decided to step forward at that exact moment that you did. You huff and leave him in the dust, boarding the ship and immediately going to your sleeping quarters. 
This'll be an interesting journey, that much you're sure of...
***
For the third time in the thirty minutes you've been flying, your water glass nearly falls onto the floor as the ship suddenly jerks to the side, then a bit downward, before returning to a steady state. You shut the computer off and walk to the cockpit, immediately hearing Mills's grumblings as he reaches across the controls console. 
"I know you dislike me, but I didn't think you'd try any sort of murder attempt until much later in the trip," you say, crossing your arms as you stand in the doorway. "And I must say, I'm extremely disappointed in your efforts thus far."
Mills's jaw clenches once again. And here he was, starting to relax now that he's mostly figured out the new controls...
"For now, I figured having you get sick would be satisfying enough," he says, turning around to look at you. "The murder attempts will be much more obvious, I assure you. Plus, keeping you alive until after the conference is in my best interest, so I get paid for at least half of the trip."
You chuckle dryly. "Fair point. Now, are you sure that all of your licenses and qualifications aren't expired? Because you're flying this ship almost as badly as I do, and I don't have any licenses."
"I've never flown a ship with such unnecessarily complicated controls," he replies simply. "This is a class of ship I'm not used to handling."
"Mm, mhm. Sure, my ship's definitely the problem. You could never be at fault for not having flown a diverse range of ships in your many years of being a pilot...because you're old."
He huffs. "Really, you're resorting to calling me 'old' now? You can't find any more halfway decent or clever comebacks in your apparently vast bank of them?"
You smirk slightly. "So you admit that my comebacks are clever and good?"
"No, I said they're clever and halfway decent," he says, unable to help the tiny upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Big difference. Also, I'm not old."
"Everyone who's old tried to say they're not old. If you're over 40, you're officially old."
"How old do you think I am?" He looks back at you.
"I dunno," you shrug. "Like 40."
"Fuck, I'm 36," he grumbles, turning back to flip a switch on the panel. "Go back to your quarters, Senator. I'll try to keep the ship under control, although I doubt it'll be to your very high standards."
You turn and begin to walk away. Suddenly, the ship dips again, and you nearly lose your balance, falling into the wall. You whip your head around and hear the softest of chuckles from the cockpit, rolling your eyes at the sound.
"Just do your damn job, Mills."
***
Mills sighs as he flips the autopilot switch and prepares to head off to his sleeping quarters. He probably should've asked where his quarters were before takeoff, but honestly, he didn't even think of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with you.
As much as he hates to admit it, you actually intrigue him. You're young, beautiful, and incredibly hard-headed. All qualities he saw in his wife when he first met her.
Several doors line the hallway, and Mills picks the one closest to the cockpit. It opens, and it's a closet filled to the brim with luggage and garment bags. He huffs, then shuts it promptly.
He moves to the next door, already mentally checking out for the night. When it opens, his eyes widen. 
You're standing completely bare, applying your body lotion before you dress for bed. You turn around and gasp, quickly covering your breasts before turning away.
"Get out!"
Mills, for a moment, can't bring himself to move. Fuck, it's been a while since he's seen a naked woman, and you're so--
"GET OUT!" you exclaim, looking back at Mills. "OUT!!"
He suddenly snaps back into reality, muttering an apology before shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. He tries to commit it all to memory: how your skin shone in the dim lamplight, your plump breasts and hardened nipples, the beautiful curve of your hips...
Turning away, he walks to the final door in the hall, which contains a small cot. He puts his things into the small dresser and tries not to revisit his memories of your body. It's highly inappropriate for him to lust after a woman years his junior, especially since he hates you, and you two have yet to have a non-argumentative conversation.
Suddenly, the door slides open as Mills takes off his shirt. He turns around and sees you, now dressed in a nightgown, looking absolutely infuriated. But he doesn't miss how your eyes dart down his body momentarily.
"What is wrong with you??" You ask angrily, glaring up at him. "Why didn't you close the door right away? Why'd you keep looking at me? Are you some kind of pervert or something?"
He huffs, turning away from you.
"No, I'm not a pervert. I just froze up for a moment. I was surprised. I thought the room would be empty...it won't happen again. It was an accident."
"Mhm. Aren't you married? How would your wife feel if she saw you staring like that?"
"Yeah, well, she and I aren't exactly on the same page these days," he says, pulling his sleep shirt on before turning to you again. "So what, you wanna see my dick, make us even?"
Well, kind of.
You huff, crossing your arms. "No," you say. "Because I'm a lady and would never do anything like that."
Mills chuckles. "Mhm. You just keep telling yourself that."
He reaches for the pants resting over his hips. "If you're such a lady, I suggest you head out before you see anything improper. God forbid."
"Goodnight to you too, Captain."
***
Mills's quarters are open when you pass by, so who wouldn't be curious about what secret life this guy could be living? You look around, then step inside. It's very basic; he's brought almost nothing personal. Well, almost nothing. You spot a holoprojector lying on his bed.
Is the great Commander Mills enjoying some pornography during his downtime?
Chuckling softly at the thought, you pick it up carefully and turn it on, purely out of curiosity. What comes up is incredibly unexpected. It's a young girl playing with a toy ship. Suddenly, it clicks in your mind: this is his daughter. Before she…
You scroll to the next one, and the next, and the next, watching only a few seconds of each. Then, you reach one where she's looking much sickly. She's got a nasal cannula in, and her cough, which you noticed throughout the videos, is much worse.
And then, you flip to the very last side. It's the voice of your wife, hand on your daughter's lifeless one.
Oh no—
"What are you doing?"
You gasp softly, startled at the sound. He's calm, but a certain edge to his voice sends a little chill down your spine.
"I-I..." you don't have an answer. "I thought this was something--"
"Give that to me," he snaps, snatching it from your hands and turning it off. "This is my quarters, my personal space. What's so hard to understand about that, huh?!"
You open your mouth to speak. He doesn't allow it.
"I would never think to step into your room and look through your belongings. You think just because you're a senator that you outrank me and can do whatever the fuck--"
"That's not it!" you say suddenly. "It was wrong, alright? I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I let my curiosity get the best of me. I didn't think you'd have anything like that."
For a moment, Mills is genuinely surprised at your quick admittance of guilt. He thought you'd surely make up some bullshit excuse as to why you're in here looking through his daughter's holo memories.
Just seeing that bit of the final holo of his daughter already has him tearing up, but there's no way in the galaxy he's gonna cry in front of you. He looks away, setting the holoprojector back down on the top of his dresser.
"Go."
You're at a loss for words. Look at what you've done; you've violated his privacy and forced him to relive such an awful memory. All because you wanted to get some dirt on him. It all seems silly and stupid now. "Look, Mills, I'm really--"
Tears are threatening to slip down his cheeks. He needs you to leave before you see him break down.
"Leave!" he snaps again, although his voice is much shakier this time. "Leave me a-alone!"
You swallow harshly, then walk back towards the door. You pause for a moment, looking back at him, seeing how his whole body shakes as he tries to keep his sobs.
"I'm truly sorry."
He says nothing, waiting until the door closes to let out the quiet but violent cries he's been holding in.
*
When dinner rolls around, you sit in the same seat you usually do at the small table. Except there's no sign of Mills anywhere. He's stayed on the bridge with the door shut all day. PZ brings out your meal, then sets Mills's down at his usual spot. 
"Where is the Captain?" PZ asks. "Will he not be joining you for dinner this evening?"
You shrug slightly, looking over at the bridge door. "I don't know, PZ. He hasn't left his pilot's seat all day."
"Well, perhaps I should--"
"No," you interrupt. "You don't wanna irritate him. He's had a rough day. I'll take it to him if he doesn't come out."
PZ nods, then walks back to continue checking on your dresses. You sigh softly and eat alone, occasionally looking over at the door. Nothing.
You really don't wanna take the food in, but you know it's the right thing to do. Plus, it'll give you time to hopefully apologize again for earlier without him yelling or getting too upset.
With a deep breath, you press the 'open' button, and the door whooshes, revealing the tall back of the pilot's chair. Various controls on the panel flash and beep. He reaches over to silence them.
"Yes?"
You step forward. "I have your dinner. I figured you wouldn't wanna come out to eat with me--"
"A correct assumption."
"...so I brought your dinner in here."
He nods. "Thank you."
You set the plate down to the side.
"Look, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you say sincerely. "It wasn't my place to snoop around your quarters, and I apologize. I also...I didn't know about your daughter. I'm sorry about that, too."
Mills says nothing but turns around in the chair to look at you. After a moment, he nods slightly. "Thank you for apologizing. And I'm sorry that I snapped like that. It's just a hard thing for me to revisit."
"Of course, and I completely understand why you reacted the way you did. I deserved that, but you didn't deserve to have your private life violated like that. I'm sorry, truly. I feel terrible about it."
He's very much surprised by your sudden remorse and show of emotion. You rarely soften like this, and it makes him wonder if he's jumped to conclusions too soon. Maybe you're not always the hard-ass, demanding, a stubborn politician you make yourself out to be. 
"All is forgiven, Senator. I promise it's alright. I appreciate you apologizing."
You nod, offering him a small smile. "Great. I'd hate for us to be on shitty terms for the rest of the journey."
"Agreed," Mills nods. "Thanks for bringing my dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Senator."
"See you tomorrow, Captain."
***
"Wait, wait..." you start, huffing softly. "You're telling me we have to stop on Zexade for fuel? I thought this ship could carry enough fuel for the entire journey. I've never had this problem before."
"There's a first time for everything," Mills replies simply, flicking a few switches on the dashboard. "We had to take an alternate route around a nebula, which took more fuel than anticipated. Zexade should have what we need."
"How long is that gonna take? We cannot be late to this conference, Mills. It's super important that we arrive on time--"
"You'll get there on time, Senator. You insisted we leave two days earlier than we needed to. Do you not remember that?"
Your jaw clenches. "I recall that, yes. But I've been late before, and it was absolutely humiliating. I want to be sure I'm there in advance to begin talking with the other senators."
"The refueling stop shouldn't take more than a few hours. We're on schedule to arrive on Cyllene early." He rolls his eyes. "There's no need to worry about anything. I have it all under--"
A loud crash is heard, and the ship lurches. You stumble, quickly gripping the wall for support.
"Everything's under control, huh?" you ask bitterly. "Then what in the world was that?"
The control panel and the proximity sensor start beeping frantically, and Mills groans. He was worried that something like this would happen. More shots are fired at the ship, and he dodges most of them.
"Get out of here! Strap into a chair or something!"
"What is it? Why are they shooting at the ship--"
Another bold hits the ship and takes a few pieces of paneling off. You nearly fall again.
"Pirates," he says. "They want the ship to salvage and possibly take us hostage for ransom money. Now get into a seat before you get hurt!"
You run back towards the emergency seats, but then you see the hatch for the gunner position. You know at that moment what you need to do. The ship dips again, and you fall into the wall with a soft groan, but you climb into the gunner seat before any more sudden jerks.
Mills' eyebrows furrow when he hears static from a headset hanging on top of a control panel. He lifts it up and puts it on, thinking it could be some sort of communication from the pirates.
"Get me into position," you say, flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly, warming up the guns. "I can take them out."
"What the fuck are you doing down there?! I told you to strap in--"
"Fuck strapping in; I'm not just gonna sit there and wait for you to let the ship be torn apart. These pirates are gonna take us out if we don't put up some sort of defense."
He knows he should focus on the pirates, but he's still trying to wrap his head around that you apparently know how to operate the gunner position. He's also trying to wrap his head around that he's about to take commands from you.
"Alright, alright," he says, adjusting the headset quickly before swerving more shots. "Do you have a shot?"
Your jaw clenches. "Do you think, if I had a shot, I would have told you to get me into position?!"
This is gonna be harder than he thought.
"Can we save the biting wit and snarky remarks for when we're not getting shot at by pirates, please?!"
"Fine," you huff. "I've almost got a shot on one of the ships. Take a sharp left and drop her down a bit."
He does what you say, and you quickly shoot the pirate ship down, which explodes and takes another one out. You smirk, mentally high-fiving yourself. 
"Suck it!" you say into the microphone, forgetting that it's on. "You just got shot down by a fucking senator, losers!! Ha ha!"
Mills listens and allows a slight smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Your mic is still on, Senator. But thank you for that wonderful piece of audio," he says, looking over at the proximity map. There are two more ships left. "I'm gonna pull up really hard and try to get you a clear shot on the two smaller fighters. Can you do that?"
Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Y-Yeah, yeah, of course, I can. Just get me into position, and I'll take care of the rest."
"Good." He chuckles softly and suddenly pulls up, accelerating rapidly. 
You keep your hands on the trigger buttons, holding on tightly as the ship climbs almost directly upwards. The pirate fighters are obviously confused but follow, climbing with us. 
“Do a corkscrew maneuver!” You say into the mic. "Now!"
"What?! You want me to do a what?! You're crazy!"
You growl softly. "Trust me, just do it!!"
Mills grips the steering wheel tightly and begins to spin the ship around and around, cursing you in his head as he begins to feel nauseous. Your eyes narrow, and you shoot at the vessels, hitting one, then the other. 
"I got 'em! We're clear!"
He slows, returns the ship to the usual level state, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. Goddamn, that was fucking crazy. You're...incredibly quick on your feet, and you ultimately made the right call. 
Between your genuine apology and this sudden show of badassery, it's almost hard to believe that Mills is starting to actually like you. He'll never admit that part out loud, but it's true.
You emerge from the hatch and walk to the cockpit, releasing shaky breaths. The adrenaline is still flowing as you head towards Mills' chair.
"So..." you start. He turns and looks at you, and you offer him a teasing smile. "How much longer to Zexade?"
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-- part two (upcoming) --
general taglist: @mrs-zimmerman​
fic-specific taglist: @mrs-zimmerman​ @safarigirlsp​​ @queeniebee​​
◆ wanna join? here’s the link: adcu taglist ◆
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thevibraniumveterans · 6 months ago
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STAR WARS — The Acolyte
EP 2 — Revenge / Justice
MAIN THOUGHTS:
Another great episode
More conflicting feelings
Great action in unarmed combat
(Spoilers in my notes below)
- On the planet of Olega is a local Jedi Temple.
- Mae pays that Temple a visit, and greets Master Torbin. How does she know him? Unless she was also once a Jedi, who was turned.
- She greets him the exact same way she greeted Indara, and issues a challenge. She charges, but is repelled by an invisible Force-field, pun intended. Torbin does not budge. Mae tries using her daggers, but does not succeed either.
- A Jedi Master enters the room upon news of a break-in, but leaves after seeing nothing.
- TITLE CARD!
- On the Jedi’s ship, Osha wakes to see Jecki troubleshooting the machine, and offers advice, The issue is resolved, and Sol walks in.
- Yord is still unconvinced that Osha did not kill Indara, but thinks that Osha and Mae might be in cahoots simply because they are twins. Sol reminds him to not let fear cloud his judgement.
- Sol comms Vern, who is “inclined to agree” that Osha did not kill Indara but that Mae did. Vern adds that someone looking like Osha (again, could be Mae, but we know it is) broke into a Jedi Temple. And it could NOT have been Osha because Osha has been in custody of Sol, Jecki, and Yord, all of whom have been watching over Osha. Vern points this out in fewer words, leaving only one suspect. Sol is given permission to take Osha to investigate this break-in.
- Yord calls Osha a “prisoner” but Sol refers to her by name. That’s telling of how differently they view the same person.
- On Olega. Mae walks through the town square, a market of sorts. She hardly stands out, and that’s maybe the point.
- She arrives in a shop and asks for Qimir (pronounced kai-meer). He is asleep in a corner, so she wakes him up and requests he make a poison for her. She says she has three more Jedi to kill, Torbin being the first of those three.
- Qimir states, “The Jedi justify their galactic dominance in the name of peace.” (One could clearly see this statement through a political lens, if they so chose to.)
- Back on the Jedi’s ship, Osha tries to sync her PIP droid with the ship, and Sol asks about her tattoo, then gets to the point, asking, “Do you believe that Mae is behind India’s murder?” Osha responds with the affirmative, because through deductive reasoning (Mae is Osha’s twin, and Osha could NOT have been anywhere near where Mae was when Indara was slain), that was “the only way to explain” this mystery. Osha does not know how Mae survived, also having last thought her dead.
- Ever humble, Sol still carries some guilt, telling Osha, “Perhaps I wasn’t a very good teacher.”
- They arrive on Olega, and is greeted by a Jedi Master.
- Sol wishes to speak to Torbin, who is revealed to have taken a vow of silence. Unfortunately for Torbin, Mae is in the room with him. Looks like Torbin knows Mae, and states that he has “been waiting” for her.
- A vision of young Mae distracts Osha and leads her away from the route Sol, Jecki, and Yord take to Torbin’s chambers. Is this vision one of Mae’s powers?
- Osha arrives in Torbin’s chambers and sees him collapsed on the floor. The Jedi Master finds Osha crouching over Torbin’s body, and accuses her or murder; Yord, surprisingly, defends Osha and says she did not do it, as he “followed her when she broke off” from the group.
- Osha describes the poison a tool in hunting that she and her sister Mae were taught to use. She is instructed to go interrogate Qimir, due to her likeness to Mae. Sol, Jecki, and Yord are to keep watch.
- Osha obtains a long scarf to partially make herself look like Mae and trick the unsuspecting Qimir. Osha didn’t even have to say much, and let Qimir reveal his secrets. Yord, Jecki, and Sol corner Qimir, who reveals that Mae will be back the same evening. Yord is to “secure the perimeter” for this reason. But perhaps this would mean that he, Sol, Jecki, and Osha are in a trap, since Mae needs to kill 4 Jedi, and there are 4 Jedi in the room.
- Sol commands Jecki to return to the ship, and Osha to follow him.
- Nightfall on Olega. Yord thinks it’s a trap; it may well be, he doesn’t like the vibes the situation is giving him.
- Sol speaks to Osha. She wants to confront Mae, but Sol, still harboring grief over not being able to save both Osha and Mae, strongly advises Osha against revenge.
- Osha names the 4 Jedi that Mae wants dead — Indara (dead), Torbin (also dead), Kelnacca (we don’t see him yet), and Sol. Osha is not on that list.
- Mae is spotted by Yord and intercepted by Sol. Mae attacks Sol empty-handed; Sol questions the reasoning for this. All of his moves are thus far defensive and deflective, using minimum energy as opposed to Mae, charged up and on the offense.
- She is momentarily bested, and Sol reveals that he has taken her daggers. They clash again, and Mae ends up lying parallel to the ground, suspended in midair by Sol.
- Sol notes that Mae doesn’t even know who her Master is, but that she has one. Mae believes that Osha is dead, but Sol and Yord disagree.
- Jecki, onboard the ship, commands Mae to surrender, but Mae uses the Force to kick up a dust cloud and escape.
- Osha walks through the corridors of the Temple, while Mae tries to flee. She can’t, and sees Osha pointing a blaster at her.
- Osha pulls the trigger but misses, twice. Understandable, there’s no way she could have stunned her sister, and could have made things worse if so. If Osha had successfully stunned Mae, Mae would never forgive her twin. There might not have been bad blood between the sisters, given that Mae has a nickname for her twin, “Oshie”. Osha does not want to make this any worse than it has to be. It may read as Osha allowing Mae’s escape, but this might not be intentional.
- Next morning, Mae confronts Qimir. She uses the slang “hell”, which may have been only mentioned once or twice in the Original Trilogy by Han Solo.
- On Khofar, two scavengers look for parts, and are accosted by Kelnacca.
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wrdn-tabris · 1 year ago
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i dont think these games are so much unheard of but they are older and were probably more popular when they came out
but then again i talk about them all the time so ky perception might be skewed
DISHONORED
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You play as Corvo Attano, Lord Protector to Empress Jessamine Kaldwin and her young daughter Emily. after months of being abroad trying to find a cure to the deadly rat plague you return to the city of Dunwall empty handed, and end up being framed for the murder of the empress.
WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS GAME is just the overall atmosphere. Dunwall is a dark and bleak city, and both the art direction and the music scored really helps being you into the moment. I also love the karma system, called chaos. Your actions as Corvo and wether you kill to get your revenge or venture down paths that side step killing have a direct impact on how the story ends and how Emily grows. Along with the lore you discover through the npcs and through journal entries, the very real and uncaring God in the Outsider, this game hs such a special place in my heart. It’s available on steam and xbox 360
DRAGON AGE ORIGINS
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Out of one of SIX origins (Human Noble, Human/Elf Mage, Dwarf Noble, Dwarf Commoner, City Eld, Dalish Elf) you are conscripted to join the ranks of the noble Grey Wardens to stop the darkspawn and the Blight. Despite where you cane from, you and your fellow wardens are branded as traitors due to the crushing defeat in the battle of Ostagar, and must rally support to fight against the archdemon and stop the blight.
Dragon Age is really the epitome of a fantasy putting you in charge of whats left of the shattered grey wardens and putting what is essentially a college freshman in charge or saving the entire country. What I love most about it is the characters and option to really feel like your choices matter in DAO. In my opinion DAO is the best out of the series, the companions are fun and memorable, and overall its just a fun fantasy game. It’s available on PC, xbox 360, and ps3.
LITTLE NIGHTMARES 1&2
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An adorably dark platformer/horror game, in the first game you play as a young girl named Six who wakes up to find herself in someplace called the Maw, and struggles to escape. It very much is a horror so it has some dark and potentially triggering scenes so i encourage you to look it up yourself. It’s a platformer that deals with a lot of puzzles and trying to find the right way t escape from an enemy. The second gane follows Mono, a young boy and its also so so good.
Available for PC and switch.
KOTOR 1&2
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IF YOU LIKE STAR WARS these are great games. Much older, but they still hold up.
In both you play as a jedi, either learning or re-learning how your powers work in the force. These games take place hundreds or years before the original and prequel trilogies. The first one was developed by bioware who did DAO while the second was Obsidian who did FNV if im not super mistaken. The first, you are a young person who is thrown into a galactic war and discovering that you are force sensitive in your adulthood, while in the second you play as a Jedi Exile, being hunted down by the sith. In both you recruit companions to your cause, and your morality slides on the dark or light aide depending on your choices.
available on PC, orignal xbox but backwards compatible on 360c and switch.
Hey can anyone tell me about some of their favorite games that no one's ever heard of?
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grunt-group-au · 4 years ago
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Galactic : I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!
Skull : BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I CAN DIE!!
Skull : ALSO MY DEAR NONEXISTANT FOLLOWERS, TELL PLASMA I LOVE HER!
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haxorus-imp · 3 years ago
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Heyo, can you dab me up with some yandere dr flug headcanons? P.s. you’re writing is so good! I’m literally re-reading Alien Affections rn, and its still hella good even though it’s been like 2-3 years since it was made lmfao. Alien Affections seriously aged like wine fr 😔
MMMMM TASTY ANGSTY ASKS~~ <3 Anyway, here's some 'fic bits' of a story I was actually going to write some time ago, but never really did. And thanks for loving Alien Affections! Just started updating Galactic Empires recently. Trying to get back in the saddle of this stuff, you know? -- -Flug is completely subtle at first. You just joined the team and have yet to prove your value to the company, but Flug is always there to give you a helping hand. Always there when you need him...always there when you ask for something...always giving you cups of coffee when you're low on energy...why is he always hanging around you...? -Flug shadows you. Always. You can be walking to and from the mailbox and he'll be watching from the window. Making just a quick peek or walking by to his next destination. You barely notice it...at first. -You both work in the lab together and that's when you take notice of Flug being very...observant of you. Looking over his shoulder, staring at you, and getting distracted from phone calls. You always ask if there was something wrong, but he always just shakes his head and denies that anything is amiss. You being to slightly worry. -It's a slow steady incline to higher levels of worry. First, it was Flug staring. Then, he started following you. He stopped after you requested that he do so. However...now anyone you talk to, for even brief moments of time, suddenly go missing within 24 hours. The mailman you spoke to once? Gone. No body recovered. The woman who you said hello to and waved at while she walked her dog? Both found dead in their home 3 days later. The nasty man that yelled at you for making too much noise during your nightly deliveries? Found violently murdered not 10 hours later. Someone was following you and killing anyone you came into contact with. You began to become paranoid. It...it wasn't Flug doing all that, right? -Then, you begin to sleep at night with the door to your room closed and locked. With the blinds of your window and curtains drawn. You used to sleep with them open...but you don't feel safe enough to do that anymore. -After all that, it could only get worse. Because that's when the notes started. The love confessions, the descripted fantasies of your marriage and future children, the promises, the threats, the sickly sweet words and poems...you felt horribly uneasy. It got to the point where you wouldn't even read the notes. You would just crumple them up and throw them away. -Finally, your torment got too much and you headed to the boss himself, Black Hat. You showed him all of the evidence you collected and told him what was happening. He, as callous as ever, rolled his eyes and barked out why you couldn't deal with it yourself. You then admitted to believing that it was Flug who was leaving all of the notes. But that only got you laughed at and told to quit wasting his time. -And that...was when you made your last mistake. You came out into the dark hallway and ran into Flug. His eyes narrowed, his gaze cruel and unsettling. You tried to back up, but that was when you finally witnessed how quickly he could move. There was a sudden prick in your neck and within moments, your body started shutting down. You are picked up firmly, but gently, as Flug carried you away from the office. Black Hat none the wiser. -Now, you're stuck in a hidden section under the lab. Unable to scream, as he had sewn your lips shut while you were out. There was no need for you to speak, for he already knew everything you wanted. Chained up in a room with no real light or happiness. You were quickly broken down by the scientist as he eroded your sense of self and your willpower fizzled to nothing. -Flug quickly takes charge. Sneaking down there every day to satisfy your needs. You hated him, but what else could you do? If he grew tired of you, you would die. But that would be better than existing as some psycho's plaything, you surmise. -You could only hope that someone heard your muted cries under the metallic panels of the lab floor. You hope they would come to realize that Flug's explanation of your disappearance was full of shit. To find you here...and either set you free...or put you out of your misery.
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thehunter14 · 3 years ago
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Story Ideas
I’m writing down story ideas cause I know if I just put them in google docs Ima forget and ignore them. Also, I think these are interesting so feel free to use these as story prompts or ideas.
Romulan Republic officer sent on a temporal mission to protect the timeline finds themselves as an officer in the Romulan Star Empire’s Navy, having to hold back interfering or taking a chance; they can’t stand what they are being told to do, whether that be war crimes/murder/espionage/terrorism/betrayal/slavery.
Human or other Federation species Romulan Republic officer being sent on a temporal mission for the Republic, but due to circumstances can’t just be modified to look Romulan and has to be a diplomatic aide or an ambassador to the Romulans and solve issues that way.
A Vulcan who goes through traumatic or otherwise hard experiences, and logic IS the answer to dealing with it
Reman who tuns away from the Romulan Star Empire and tries to make it independently, eventually joins Starfleet.
Romulan who joins Starfleet, only to leave and go to either the Romulan Star Empire or the Republic after having it with Federation hypocrisies and other issues. Story would go into issues with Starfleet and the Federation, why they aren’t perfect and other things like xenophobia against Romulans.
Alternatively to the last one, Federation species officer instead of Romulan.
Simple short story of a snap shot of the colonization of New Romulus, focused on interactions between Starfleet, Klingon Defense Force, and Romulans.
Unlikely ally sacrifices themselves and their ship to save the homeworld of a historic enemy or rival
In the Kelvin timeline, how the Romulans respond, aide, or don’t aide Vulcans after destruction of Vulcan.
A short story of a snapshot of Ni’Var, how the different districts of Romulan, Vulcans, and Romulo-Vulcans interact and maintain order/balance/peace
An agent from Ni’Var has to assist in a temporal mission and reflects on what it took to get the Vulcans and Romulans to reunify, and the differences and similarities in the species and their relationship at the time compared to Ni’Var.
A short story of some officers from Klingon, Romulan Republic, and Starfleet fucking around on a starbase with some insights into cultural differences and similarities.
Starfleet officer choosing to ignore orders and save a historic rival’s (Romulans, Klingons, Dominion, etc.) colony instead of assisting a Federation colony in much better shape. And the aftermath from both the Federation and historic rival’s response
D’Tan and a short story on why or how he decided to not just spread a message, but make the effort to start a whole new government.
Exploring the toll fighting his own people has had on D’Tan
Tal’Shiar agent gets captured and slowly, very slowly starts to trust the Republic officer in charge of interrogating them. Goes into why some Romulans genuinely believe in the Tal’Shiar, and personal fears of retribution and duty to the Tal’Shiar
A transgender Vulcan, and how Vulcan culture and logic would deal with them, and the effects of Pon Farr. Would go into Vulcan society norms and technology at the time regarding transitioning.
Klingon warrior who’s solution is fighting and violence and it IS the answer
Ferengi who tries to capitalize on a niche market of some artistic product, like art or clothing or writing. When they start trying to make it themselves when they don’t have a good supplier, they realize they have a love for creating and go on to become and artist while still maintaining profit.
Short story of a Starfleet officer absolutely making Romulans from the Romulan Star Empire eat shit by playing their own game and finding out secret information, making back door deals, and bribing. Ultimately, scoring a huge trade or diplomatic deal for the Federation with the Romulans. The Starfleet officer is incredibly smug about it the whole time
The ridiculous shit people in the military do when unsupervised for 2 minutes applied to Romulan Republic, Klingon, and Starfleet officers on New Romulus who are left alone for a few hours.
Alternatively to the previous one, they somehow stop a Tal’Shiar plot to bomb the command center. Whether it’s a serious effort to stop it or they accidentally stop because of the ridiculous shit they do is up to me/you
Romulan Republic officer sacrificing their ship (ramming into it and exploding the singularity core) to stop a planet killer like device/ship for the Federation or Klingons while the republic was still trying to prove they truly want to be allies
Short story of some officers helping the Deferi (I forgot how to spell it) or Kobali or Lukari and the unique relationship formed between smaller and bigger galactic powers
I have more but gotta leave for work.
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reallystellacadente · 3 years ago
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The Endless War
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This was supposed to be the prologue for my Sith Warrior!Imperial spy AU, The Wicked Game, where the SW crew are spies instead of murder bunnies. I mean, they still killed people, but there was a lot more seduction and sex and backstabbing in the esoteric sense. Ahem. Actually, this was Ch. 2, since Ch. 1 was a cold open because who am I to obey narrative rules, anyway?
The Endless War
It didn’t even have a name. The Great Galactic War ended, and the Cold War began, which meant that hostilities never really ended. When open fighting broke out again, most just called it “the war” or “the galactic war.” Not really a name. War had become a generic, an expectation, the natural outcome of two sides so fundamentally opposed to one another’s continued existence.
The Republic claimed they fought for justice and an end to slavery. The Sith Empire claimed they fought for their right to exist. The Hutts laughed all the way to the bank. The bankers laughed all the way to the expensive resorts. They even rebuilt Makeb out of the goodness of their pocketbooks.
The independent media in the Republic began calling it The Endless War. It was a term not well received on Coruscant. The Dark Council called it “The Emperor’s War,” though the Sith Emperor was now officially dead. The people of his Empire merely sighed and went about their day, heads down. A generation was now of age who knew nothing but endless war.
Then came a wave of attacks, striking Dromund Kaas, Coruscant, Korriban and Tython in quick succession. Soldiers neither side had seen before. Force users. Led by twin brothers, they served neither Dark nor Light. They cut a swath through Jedi and Sith alike, including most of the respective leadership councils. Fleets fell in hours to a phalanx of ships the likes of which no one had ever seen, nor thought possible.
They made no contact with the Dark Council or the Republic Senate. They made no demands. The conquerors came to sow chaos and nothing more. Then they retreated, for reasons unknown, leaving devastation in their wake.
Both the Republic and the Sith Empire sent diplomats to the other to discuss peace. No progress was made.
Finally, the Sith Empire’s agents on Alderaan get a break, a peek into this strange new kingdom that brought terror to the galaxy. From a single intercepted transmission from an unknown source they learned an astounding secret: The Eternal Emperor of Zakuul was dying, and he put it upon his children – the twin brothers, and a sister – to prove to him who deserved to hold the throne. The people favor the elder twin, Thexan. By rights, the throne should be his.
Arcann, the younger twin, his fate sealed by his birth five minutes later, was severely wounded during the fighting on Korriban. He made no public appearances, despite being hailed as a hero. A carefully cultivated source reveals he has significant prosthetics keeping him alive and whole. And full of anger and rage.
The daughter. No one wanted to talk about the daughter. She is High Justice Vaylin. She enforces the laws without mercy. Even the Knights of Zakuul fear and revere her. Though they are supposed to fight in the name of Emperor Valkorion, they really fight for her. To be favored by Vaylin is to be proven worthy.
Their mother is unknown, officially forgotten. A Republic agent found references to a consort but her name was erased from every official source, and the unofficial ones refused to speak it.
Six weeks after the initial attacks, Darth Marr and the Jedi thought to have killed the Sith Emperor Vitiate inexplicably set out together to investigate further. Darth Marr is killed … the fluctuation in the Force is felt by virtually all Sith … and the Jedi, a female Twi’lek, disappears. News leaks out that either Darth Marr or the Jedi killed Valkorion, leaving Arcann in charge. No word on the whereabouts of the other son, Thexan. He is presumed dead, and many whispers agree.
Retaliation is swift: Ships appear in the skies of Dromund Kaas and Coruscant, raining down destruction. The Republic goes silent; the remaining Sith disband the Dark Council. Darth Acina offered an unconditional surrender and named herself Empress. The Sith Empire is named a vassal state of the Eternal Throne.
Vowrawn and Baras survive the attacks (and the rumored purges) to emerge as ministers of logistics and intelligence, respectively. Each secretly longs to have the other killed, but both know the only way to fight back against their new overlords will require their respective disciplines.
But then a band of renegades strikes at Zakuul’s center of power – the Spire – and the missing Jedi is rumored to be the Outlander, an outsider whose only goal, Arcann alleges, is anarchy and the destruction of Zakuul and her people. Nevertheless, hundreds of thousands rally to the Outlander’s cause and a credible threat to Arcann’s rule emerges.
Rather than throwing their support behind the Outlander, the Sith Empire and the Republic resume hostilities, though on a much smaller scale than before.
The Endless War drones on.
Until a Republic agent stumbles upon a secret. And comes to an Imperial spy for help. This is their story.
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biwenqing · 4 years ago
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the sleuth of ming dynasty, space travel/sci-fi au, 5 headcanons, GO
sorry this took so long! i ADORE scifi aus, got overexcited, and ended up thinking about a bunch of specific scifi aus... so this is a bit different than the prompt is supposed to be asjhahojhaw oops! hope you still enjoy anon!
star trek au: 
tang fan would work on a station in a judiciary branch. he got high marks at starfleet academy but didn't get a top post because he asked too many questions and had been caught snooping where he shouldn't. so he's on a decent-sized station close to the neutral zone and it happens to be where a diplomatic event is happening. 
and then... an ambassador is murdered!
wang zhi is probably there as an official, seemingly lowly uniformed officer, but he really works in the spy network of section 31 and has credentials to access anywhere on the station and any records.
sui zhou would work as a security officer and the one who is officially on the case, but now he has these two "helping". 
they are able to solve the case with only a relatively small diplomatic incident... 
2) star wars au (clone wars time frame specifically): 
wang zhi would likely flourish in the senate of the galactic republic with all the scheming going on. would he figure out all the crooked dealings? well, there are so many, but he'd certainly keep tabs on many of them. a go-to person if you want to understand even half of the under-the-table politics. 
jedi sui zhou is an idea i very much like ALSO padawan dong'er!!!! 
jedi are supposed to not have attachments, even to family, but dong'er was initiated late and like hell tang fan wouldn't follow and make sure she is safe! there is a war going on! 
sui zhou wasn't sure he was ready for a padawan, let alone the chaos that is tang fan, who seems to come with dong’er no matter what. 
tang fan works within the judicial department overseen by the galactic republic.
xfiles and stargate below:
3) stargate au:
what i'm thinking is, in all the world-hopping, a team gets into legal trouble on a world. they have no idea how to figure out the law here, and the most of residences of the world won't help. so the stargate upper leadership brings in two civilian consultants to help. 
sui zhou is left as the soldier in charge of guarding the two most annoying people he has ever met in his life. tang fan is so excited to dig into the legal works of an alien planet and wang zhi is always down for a puzzle. they argue constantly about what things mean.
stakes rise when the young girl (dong'er), who is an orphan who has been spending time with these weird people from another world, gets captured by a rogue faction. will they be able to argue the case that will allow them to be able to save her?
4) x-files au:
alright, this probably works the best for them tbh. deep in bureaucracy. sui zhou (skeptic) is assigned to be partners with tang fan (believer). 
tang fan takes all the weirdest case and sui zhou finds himself making sure that he doesn't get killed or kidnapped. (tang fa is really good at getting kidnapped.)
somehow tang fan and the kid he's fostering also end up as sui zhou's roommates after they have only been working together on one case. 
wang zhi fills the assistant director role despite how young he is, though he certainly seems to know more than he's telling... he turns out to be a surprising ally as time goes on.
send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it!
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evabellasworld · 3 years ago
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Storm of the Republic
Chapter 17
AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.
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“Agent Darling,” Admiral Trench contacted her through a hologram. “I regret to report to you that our assets were taken by the Jedi. They had ambushed our shuttle and destroyed every one of our droids.”
Rhea could only nod, her hands guarded behind her. “No worries, admiral. I’ll handle it from here,” she replied in a calm tone. “I wish you luck on your battles on Ringo Vinda. May the odds be in your favour.”
“Thank you, agent,” Admiral Trench bowed as their transmission ended.
Those Jedi are so naïve, she laughed to herself, holding a lighter in her hand. It was just an ordinary lighter which she bought on Coruscant yesterday, but she treasured them by decorating it with assorted stickers.
This was her 43rd lighter that she owned currently. Since Rhea could smoke, she spent her allowance on cigarettes and lighter. Though she would throw the cigarette box after finishing all 20 sticks in 20 days, she was fond of the lighters.
The current one she was holding right now was painted in fuchsia, which matched her personality. It was originally silver, but Rhea attempted to make it more eye-catching, and her talent in arts and craft had paid off.
If she wasn’t an agent, she would sell crafted lighters to her customers instead. She could make some money out of her hobby once she retired from her service for the Galactic Empire.
Looking at the time on her heart-shaped clock, she straightened her posture and adjusted her hair, before reaching out to Lenora on Coruscant. “Hey Nora,” Rhea addressed her by her nickname. “How are you doing today? Did you miss me?”
“Well, kinda,” Lenora replied, in a cheerful voice. “My office feels quiet without you. It’s not the same eating all by myself, you know.”
“I wish I could join you, but duty calls, unfortunately,” she twirled her hair. “Anyway, how’s your progress with Senator Amidala? I heard from the Emperor that you’re getting there.”
“I’m doing great on my mission so far. From what I gathered, Senator Amidala left her office much earlier during the day and headed straight back home.”
“Okay, what was her excuse this time?”
“She had a headache, and she needed to rest,” Lenora spilled the tea. “Honestly, though, I don’t buy it. She used that excuse over three times.”
“Obviously she’s lying. For all I know, she could contact someone outside of Coruscant. Did you figure out who the caller was?”
Lenora shook her head. “Unfortunately, it was a cloaked transmission, so I wasn’t able to figure out, but it was definitely outside of Coruscant. Do you think it could be the Republic remnants’ army?”
“It’s possible,” Rhea agreed with her. “Most of her allies were on the other side, such as Anakin Skywalker and Senator Chuchi. She was extremely close with them throughout the war.”
“That’s true. It’s only a matter of time before this mysterious caller exposed themselves, along with Senator Amidala’s treachery to the Empire,” Lenora stated, before changing the topic. “So, what about you, Ri? What did the Emperor ask you to do this time?”
“It’s something related to Protocol Order 66,” she told him. “Apparently, a clone trooper killed his Jedi General mid-battle. Crazy, right?”
Lenora chuckled. “What an odd coincidence. I read about this protocol in Palpatine’s and the Young twins’ file.
“Well, tell me more about it. That could be useful in tracking down that clone.”
“Wait, did that clone get away or something? What happened? I thought you already captured him.”
“The Jedi got him, for now,” she flicked her lighter. “But I’ll have them, eventually. It’s only a matter of time before someone spotted them on another planet.”
Sitting on the co-pilot’s seat, Yara crossed her arms and glared at Fives as he sat beside her, with a wide smile on his face. “Sorry, Yara, but the captain seemed to favour me more than you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Yara cussed at her brother as she looked away from him. “At least I have a brain cell, unlike you.”
“Well, I’m not the one who’s constantly late to training every single day,” he pointed out her flaw, causing her to pat him on the shoulder.
“Fuck you!”
“Anyway, we’ll be jumping into hyperspace, so try not to fall,” he teased her, making her hold her tongue.
I wish I could kill him instantly; she sneered at herself as she rested her head on her seat. He’s such a pest sometimes.
As their shuttle made the jump, Yara breathed in relief as she closed her eyes and hugged herself, hoping she could wake up by the time they reached the Anaxes. After what happened with Tup, she could finally have a long rest for herself.
On the other hand, Fives was bored. He was tempted to poke Yara’s puffy cheeks and show his tongue at her, but it was too boring for him. “I should just check on Tup,” he groaned, as he got up from the captain’s seat and walked away from the cockpit.
Tup was deep asleep on his gurney, his arms and legs restrained from any movement he made. His pulse was slowing down and Fives could swear that his body felt warmer than usual. “Hang in here, vod,” he squeezed his hand. “You’ll be okay. I know you would. You can do this, Tup.”
He paced back and forth in the room, wondering if he would arrive at the base faster. He knows it’s a long journey back home, but he wanted time to fly faster. If only he could control time, just like the stories he heard from his friend Dipper.
Yesterday, Fives was playing a board game with Tup, Yara, Jesse, and Kix in their barracks, competing on who gets to be the richest. All five of them were buying properties with the game money and had to pay each other rent every time someone landed on an owned property
Yara was cursing non-stop at having to pay rent to her brothers, while Tup was just relaxing in his jail cell, hoarding all the game money. Ronopoly was the game that had caused many breakups between family, friends, and romantic couples, but Fives thought it did the opposite.
Sure, the five of them argued with each other about who was going to win, but as soon as Kix packed up the game, they were having dinner together at the mess hall, forgetting what had happened in their barrack. Tup was an expert in Ronopoly, and Fives was pleased that he won the game seven times in a row.
I hope he’s okay; he smiled at Tup as he headed back into the cockpit, only to find Yara asleep on his seat. Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me. Seriously, she’s such an ass sometimes.
“Yara, get up,” Fives tapped on her cheeks. “You’re in my seat.”
His sister turned away and continued to sleep in her arms, leaving him to constrain his frustration. “I know you’re still awake. Get up, bitch.”
Without looking or saying a word to him, Yara showed the middle finger to him, her eyes still closed. Fives huffed as he was about to drag her by the leg, only to be kicked in the face. “Oh, you motherfucker-“
“Fuck you, Fives,” Yara jolted from her seat. “I slept here, so that makes it mine now.”
“Bitch, I was there before you.”
“Well, you neglected your duties as a captain, so now, I’m in charge.”
“Says who? Rex put me in charge, so technically, that makes me more competent with you.”
“Fuck you, bitch. You can’t make me move.”
Without hesitating, Fives picked up Yara with all his strength and put her back in the co-pilot’s seat, much to her protest. “Fuck you, Fives!” she yelled. “You’re not my brother anymore.”
“I’m honoured,” Fives bite back. “You were found in a garbage bin on Kamino.”
“Fuck your mother!”
“We were made in the test tube, you di’kut.”
“Then, fuck your test tube!”
“Fuck your test tube too, Yara,” Fives cursed at her, when he heard the radar beeping, much to his bewilderment. “Wait, are we back at the base already? That was fast.”
“I don’t know,” Yara shrugged, scratching her head. “I don’t remember the journey being this short.”
Realizing what was going on, both of them frantically jumped out of hyperspace, only to find themselves surrounded with fields of asteroids. “Oh, I have a bad feeling about this.”
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codythecheshirecat · 3 years ago
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Binary Sunset Ch 2: Seemed Far Away
Story Summary:  Obi-Wan finds himself decades in the future on the ship of a Mandalorian  that seems like the last thing he wants is to be sidled with another  lifeform. Or two, because suddenly they have a little...tiny... Yoda to  deal with. Not actually Yoda, Obi-Wan knows, but still. It's weird, and  stressful, and there's an entire Empire that's come and gone (going?).  He just wants to rest. Figure out what exactly has happened and maybe,  maybe find a way to stop it, if he ever gets back to his own time.  Better that than wallow in misery and pain of a past he got plucked  from, yet still feels the pain of.
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30771671/chapters/76338152#workskin
    Saleucami is a fairly nice planet, Obi-Wan decides as he steps from the ship. Warm, for sure, but not overbearingly so. They’ve touched down in one of the more swampy areas. Obi-Wan cranes his neck to get a good look at the area. A bird flies overhead. Mando puts his arm out, stopping him in his tracks.
    “Yes?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
    Mando turns his head to look at him. “You’re staying here.”
    “Excuse you?”
    “You’ll only get in the way. I’m used to working alone. I don’t need your help.”
    Obi-Wan crosses his arms. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do while I’m waiting for you to track down your bounty, then?”
    “Don’t know, don’t care, as long as you don’t get into what isn’t yours.”
    Obi-Wan tosses his head. “Ah, so I’m to sit quietly in the dark of your ship.”
    Mando shrugs. “Maybe there’s something in the area that’s edible. You could resupply the food stores so we don’t have to purchase anything.”
    Obi-Wan just sighs, turning back to the ship. “Do I at least have permission to get into the weapons if danger occurs?”
    “Sure.”
    Obi-Wan looks over his shoulder, watching somewhat petulantly as Mando walks away, following his tracking fob. He sighs again. He’d have liked to have something to do to keep his mind off things. Clearly that won’t be happening. So he walks back into the ship, closes the door, and sits on the floor next to his still-discarded robes. He runs his hands through the fabric.
    “The Galactic Empire destroys the Jedi Order.” He says softly, the same words he’s been thinking since he talked to the Mandalorian Armorer. “Wish I knew more about that.”
    He’d been a little overwhelmed during his talk with the Armorer. After leaving he’d thought of a thousand questions, ones she may or may not have had answers to. Asking Mando had been… unsuccessful. He should have realized that Mando had limited knowledge, after all, he had said he’d never heard of the Jedi Order. Further questioning had brought forth similar answers.
    Obi-Wan is disappointed, but not surprised. Surely the Empire had done as much as it could to control information as much as people and planets. And Mando, living among the Outer Rim, wouldn’t have had much reason to bother with the Empire. Obi-Wan’s fairly certain that the Empire’s control over the outer rim had been as thin and fleeting as the Republic’s. The Outer Rim is often simply uncontrollable from those in power at the Core Worlds. So it would have been advantageous for Mando to know what he had to know to survive, and little else. And he wouldn’t have gained anything from knowledge about the Jedi. At least, that’s what Obi-Wan rationalizes to himself. What other answers are there, after all?
    He must stay there for hours, thinking about everything and nothing, and absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent meaning to get up and have a look around the area. Maybe find some food like Mando suggested. And yet, he’s barely moved a muscle when the door opens again and Mando strides in, dragging a shaking human man behind him. He locks eyes with the man, and then decides that he’d rather not have any reason to feel for him; he’s going to have to get used to the bounty hunting life, and the good and bad people that get caught up in it. The man yells as Mando shoves him into a carbon freezing unit.
     Mando turns to him. “You haven’t moved at all, have you?”
    “Not a bit.” He admits. “Where to next? Nevarro again?”
    Mando walks to the ladder heading to the cockpit. “Crait.”
    Obi-Wan follows him up. “How many bounties do you have?”
    “Several.”
***
    Crait is as boring as Saleucami, as are Galidraan and Gamorr. Mostly because Mando refuses to let Obi-Wan help, and so he sits, bored, on the floor of the Razor Crest. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his fears. Mando isn’t even particularly talkative, so even when they’re in the cockpit traveling together through space it’s boring.
     After a day of traveling, Obi-Wan finds a pen. He promptly spends two hours drawing all over himself for lack of anything else to do. It’s something he’d ordinarily scold Anakin for doing. Had, in fact, several times over Anakin’s padawan years. There’s something freeing in it, though, knowing that the only person that will know is Mando and Mando clearly doesn’t give a kriff. There’s no rhyme or reason to what he draws-- the symbol of the Jedi Order, a five pointed star, the Basic Alphabet. Birds and loth-cats and a badly-drawn wampa. Random lines and squiggles, until his arms and legs are covered and he’s made a fair dent everywhere else, too, using the mirror Mando has in his refresher. They almost look like tattoos.
     Other than drawing, he spends his time meditating, and when that only manages to make him more anxious, he sleeps. And dreams-- nothing that seems to be prophetic, just dreams of his past, dreams of nonsense, nightmares of his anxieties come to life. A particularly rattling one has him waking, gasping for breath, with screams of the dying thundering in his ears.
     When he can’t sleep any more, he stalks around the ship, committing as much of it to memory as he can without prying. How many steps can he take, going from one side to the next? Where are the control panels? How many people, frozen in carbonite, can fit in the ship? There isn’t much of a kitchenette-- actually, there’s little more than 2 cupboards, a small box for cold foods, and a small oven that really serves for reheating more than actual cooking. Obi-Wan counts the ration bars, the cans of soup, the few bits of frozen meat. The rations will last them for quite a while, despite the small space.
     And just like that, three standard weeks pass.
***
    Maldo Kreis is as boring as everything else, at least until Mando shows up with his bounty with a hungry ravinak following. His bounty-- a blue Mythrol-- screams bloody murder. Obi-Wan lifts his head from where he lays on the floor and watches the two move past him, heading for the cockpit. He looks out the door-- the ravinak’s bitten down on the landing gear.
    There’s no way they’ll be able to lift off with that hanging on the way it is. In fact, it’s more likely that the ravinak will drag them under. He springs to his feet. Mando’s Amban Rifle is around here somewhere, where had he last seen it..? Oh, right, by the door to the cockpit. He follows them up the ladder, grabs the rifle, and jumps back down. The ship shudders. He grimaces, charges the rifle, and braces himself at the door.
    Here goes nothing. He lunges forward, shoving the prongs of the rifle into the ravinak’s face. Electricity dances across and under its skin. It lets go of the ship with a roar, sinking back into the icy water. Unfortunately, without the ravinak holding it down, the Razor Crest lurches into the air with enough force that almost sends Obi-Wan tumbling into the water with it. He climbs into the ship and closes the door. He lets out a breath. I’m out of practice.
     He joins them in the cockpit. The Mythrol chatters away about nothing in his best attempt at persuading them into letting him go. After getting nothing from Mando, the Mythrol turns to him. Obi-Wan gives him his best unimpressed look and turns back to looking at hyperspace. Is this how I sound to Mando? He wonders. It’s exhausting. He’s honestly thankful when Mando gets the chance to put him in carbonite. When he returns to the cockpit, Obi-Wan offers him a smile. 
     “You probably wish you could do that to me, hm?”
    “Maybe a little.” Mando admits. “And before you ask, now we’re heading to Nevarro.”
    “Ah, wonderful. I could stretch my legs.” I’ve already been out of the ship there, you have no way of arguing me into staying hidden.
    “We’re only stopping to turn in the bounties and get new ones. It’ll be quick.”
    Obi-Wan hums. “If you say so. I could buy new supplies, then, while you deal with Guild business?”
    “Sounds like a plan.”
    Obi-Wan glances at him. “You know, I still don’t know your name.”
    “And?”
    “I think it’d be helpful to know it.”
    “No.”
    Alright. “Were you born a Mandalorian?”
    “Why do you care?” Mando asks slowly.
    Obi-Wan shrugs. “We’re going to be traveling together for an undetermined amount of time, I’d like to know at least a bit about you. All I know about you is that you’re a Mandalorian bounty hunter, you don’t know anything about Jedi, and you’re much better suited to long space travels than I am. Well, I also have nothing to do, but I haven’t exactly seen you do anything more than eat, sleep, clean your weapons, and fly this ship, none of which actually take that long. Also, I spent a year on Mandalore when I was younger, during the civil war.”
    Mando fully turns to look at him. Obi-Wan offers another smile. Focus on the future right now, not the past. Nothing can be done about the past, so make sure the future isn’t going to be a mess.
    Mando sighs. “I was a foundling, taken in when I was a child. I was raised in the Fighting Corps. I work as a bounty hunter to support the Tribe. Is that enough?”
    “If that’s all you’ll give me.” Obi-Wan acquiesces. “Would you like to know more about me?”
    “Which side were you on?” The question is immediate.
    “Er-what?”
    “During the Clone Wars.”
    “Oh.” Obi-Wan pauses. Not a question he expected to hear. “I was fighting on the side of the Republic. So, the clone army, not the droid army.”
    “Good.” Mando says darkly. “You said you’re from the beginning of the war?”
    “Well, I assume so, unless the War was done and over in a matter of a few months.” Obi-Wan says, falling into the sort of sarcastic indignance he often does with Anakin. “I’d just fought at Christophsis.”
    Mando hums. “Alright.”
    And that’s that.
***
    Obi-Wan stares at his reflection in the mirror of the Razor Crest’s refresher. He’s let his hair grow too much for his tastes over the past few weeks. He hasn’t trimmed it at all, and now he hardly looks the part of Jedi Master. Well, he does want to blend in, but… it’s really a matter of self-care, in the end. He runs his fingers through his beard.
    It’s doubtful there are many people in the galaxy now that would recognise him. He imagines they’re dead, old, or simply wouldn’t expect him to look so young. So really, he could probably get away with keeping the beard. But it would be his luck, to manage to run into someone that would recognise him, his look. And it would be his luck that said someone would be an enemy, too. It can’t hurt to be cautious.
    He glances at Mando, standing at his weapons cache. He’s not sure what species he is, still, seeing as he never takes his helmet off. Nor does he particularly care what species he is. But if he’s a species without hair, it’ll be rather hard to cut his own. “Do you have something I could cut my hair with? And shave my beard?”
    Mando turns to look at him. “There’s a razor and a pair of scissors behind the mirror.”
    “Ah, thank you.”
    He finds them where Mando says they are, strapped in so they don’t fall out and make a mess during rough travels. That sort of thing isn’t typically a worry on larger ships, but one as small as the Razor Crest, it’s practically a necessity. He pauses. He’s well versed in taking care of his beard-- that’s not exactly hard, and not something one would want to go to a barber for. His hair, though… well, he’ll just have to give it a go, won’t he?
    So he shaves his beard, leaves only stubble. He’d been completely clean shaven as a padawan for several reasons and only some having to do with his age, but the moment he’d no longer been a padawan he’d happily grown a beard. Partially just to prove to Quinlan he could. Obi-Wan frowns at his reflection. It’s… strange, having hair as long as he does without the beard to match. Luckily I’ll be dealing with that shortly enough.
    Cutting his hair goes about half as well. He leaves it just barely longer than he’d had it as a padawan, minus the ponytail. And a lot more messy, actually. As it turns out, he’s very bad at cutting hair. It doesn’t look terrible. It just doesn’t look very good, either. And it certainly doesn’t look like it was on purpose.
    “Oh well.” He mutters, and starts cleaning up. It’ll just have to do.
    Mando chuckles. “Having trouble?”
    Obi-Wan eyes him. “Not everyone is as used to cutting their own hair as you are.”
    “Maybe you should shave it. Go bald.”
    Obi-Wan thinks about that. “That is a cursed image and I hate that you’ve made me think of it, Mando.”
    Mando’s laughter gets louder, and he counts it as a win.
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user-name-not-found5 · 4 years ago
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Interrogation Techniques pt. 8
Whew! Sorry this has taken so long to update, I had to take a little break from social media. Anyway, I'm hoping to finish this up soon. Previous: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7
Kylo Ren is determined to get the map out of the Resistance Pilot. By any. Means. Necessary.
Even if that means exploring new ways to sexually psychologically manipulate his victims into getting what he wants.
AU where the map leads to Luke’s new Jedi Temple, where he is training the next generation of Jedi. Poe is a Resistance pilot, who General Leia Organa has put in charge of running the transport routes in order to bring force-sensitive younglings to the temple where they belong. The First Order is headed by Kylo Ren, a fallen Jedi just as Count Dooku was, and he is determined to end the Jedi for good.
Warnings overall: non-con, torture, violence, manipulation, smut, absolutely filthy smut, degrading language, abuse
Warnings for this chapter: Mild violence/references to violence, references to killing of the younglings in the original prequels, villain is convinced he's the hero
BB-8 rolled down the corridors, occasionally stopping to consult the holo-map he’d pulled from the base systems. The trooper jogged beside him, wheezing through his helmet.
“Come… on…. man…” BB-8 stopped at a door port, letting the trooper catch his breath as he docked into the system. Hands on his knees, 2187 yanked his helmet off, tucking it under his arm. “You’re going to need.... A retinal… scan… to…” He held up a hand. “Gimme a sec…”
I’m not sending a comm outside the base. I’m sending one from inside.
The trooper sighed, running his hand over his face. “I don’t. Speak. Droid!”
Well, I don’t speak IDIOT.
The door whirred open, and BB slid inside, 2187 close behind. He quirked an eyebrow at the array of glowing panels and buttons, placing his hands on the center console. BB docked into another port, navigating slowly through the system until he found what he was looking for.
“Alright, you do your thing, we’ll get your pilot, and then we’re out of here, okay?” He paced, running his hands over his short-cropped hair. “Stars, let the Captain be on… I don’t know, a lunch break? Blaster-cleaning? Disciple row? Anything but patrol right now.”
A panel across the room began to hum, and BB rolled over to access the new port. He turned his head towards the trooper, giving his best attempt at a reassuring beep. The half-hearted smile he got in response was encouraging enough that he didn’t feel so guilty turning back to his work. The pair sat in silence for a bit, the soft whirring of machinery keeping them company before BB slid back with a triumphant little ditty.
“You got it?”
Hell-fucking-yeah I did!
The trooper’s comm beeped, and he clicked the speaker, letting the automated voice play out.
“Attention all base personnel. Please route around the detention corridor. A hazardous chemical spill has made the area unsuitable for transversal. Repeat. Route around the detention corridor.”
He raised an eyebrow at the droid. “For a little guy, you’re really scary, you know that?”
Thank me later. Let’s go get Poe.
Ren sat completely still, his legs crossed in front of him, his back perfectly straight as he inhaled, and exhaled again slowly. His mind floated out, spreading like a dark cloud. Something was catching his attention, something drifting closer, ever closer. Something strong, something… He stiffened. Her face formed in the cloud, the darkness draining and replaced by blinding light until she blinked into view. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders, brown eyes full of sadness.
“Ben.”
“You know that isn’t my name anymore.” His voice came out as a low hiss, eyes boring into her, willing her to go away.
Rey shook her head. “I will always look at you as the man who used to be my friend. Not the man you have become.”
“Then you are weak. Blinded by foolish attachments,” He sneered. “Your Master would be disappointed in you.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat as she flinched back, barely perceptible, but he knew her well. Too well… they’d grown up together, in the temple. She had been one of his closest friends, for so long…
“Ben,” Her voice was soft, coaxing. “I understand your anger. Your pain. Luke has made many mistakes, but he is only one man. He is haunted by a past that we may never understand. I’m sorry that he pushed you so far.”
He inhaled sharply. A bitter laugh slipped through his lips. “I thought you were more than this- his feeble messenger. Rey, a noble Jedi Knight, has been reduced to a mouthpiece for a corrupt, mad old man.” He shook his head. “You excuse his actions so easily- no matter his past, I trusted him. I needed him, I needed his guidance against the darkness,” His voice caught in his throat as the familiar roar of anger pressed in. “And he tried to murder me. His nephew.” His fists tightened. “Who’s to say he won’t try to kill you? Or follow in his father’s footsteps, and end the Jedi Order, bathing it in blood once again? It wasn’t the Clones that ended the next generation- it was my grandfather, from the inside.”
He was surprised when she nodded.
“You’re right, Ben. What he did, it was unforgivable. You needed him, you needed his confidence in you, you needed his trust. I’m sorry that he failed you. Which is why I won’t,” She brushed through the mists, and he could almost feel her hand on his skin back in his quarters. “I won’t fail. I will bring you back where you belong. Together, we can fix this. We can bring peace, Ben. Your anger has guided you this far, but where does it leave you?” She wrapped her arms around him gently. “You traded one Master for another.”
Ben snapped out of his meditation, sweat pooling on his back. She had seen so far into him, looked at his anger, and hatred, and hurt, and had still asked him to come home. Rey had always been good at that- they had a deep connection, growing up so close together. Hers had been the shoulder he cried on when he missed home, his was the shoulder she leaned on when a nightmare about the desert sands plagued her. She never spoke much of her past- he knew that in the power vacuum left after the Sith destroyed each other, several factions of the former Galactic empire vied for power. Many people had died, and the carnage had continued until he’d risen. He rolled his shoulders back. She spoke of bringing peace, and yet the Resistance was the source of the continued conflict. He had reunited the Empire, shaped and molded and forced it into the form of the First Order. He had ended the needless battles of factions, quelled the bloodshed, using force only when those little scraps had failed to recognize his new rule. He was the son of a Princess, he was well-versed in the lessons of diplomacy that she had vested to him; where his diplomacy failed, the anger of his Master’s betrayal fueled him into battle.
“I have brought peace,” The words slipped from his lips, hanging softly in the air. “The Jedi are meant to be peace-keepers. They should be on my side.”
But he was a tyrant. His hands curled into fists.
He had a map to follow.
Poe groaned. He was hanging from his wrists, held in suspension as energy surged around him, occasionally hitting him with a pulse that left him gasping for breath. He wasn’t sure when he’d last seen Ren- a few times, he’d passed out from the pain, or exhaustion, leaving him to wonder how many hours he’d lost to darkness. He was alone, at least. A few times, he’d woken to the stares of a few troopers, muttering orders to each other and adjusting the dials on the console. He was beginning to lose his resolve, as much as he hated to admit it. It would be nice, really, to just let go. Give the map up, and at least he could die. He snarled, fire surging in his gut. What was he thinking- he wouldn’t be the only one to die. These were children he was talking about, innocent kids, born with a power through no fault of their own. They needed the Jedi, needed that guidance, and he wasn’t going to let them suffer just because he was hurting. He jolted again as another surge crested through his body. He’d almost rather be under Ren again…
He shivered, despite himself. The aphrodisiac had a lingering effect, creeping into his dreams with memories of the heat in his belly, the leather glove clasped around his mouth, fingers curled in his hair. The way he’d shaken beneath him, the hot breath against his ear as he’d been fucked into a daze. He’d enjoyed it, and that thought disturbed him more than the idea of further torture.
The door slid open as another surge hit him, and he gasped, his back spasming at the pressure. Chest heaving, he jut his chin forward at the trooper who hovered in the doorway.
“Come to turn up the pressure again? Shame, I was getting a bit bored of this method.”
His eyes widened as the trooper leaned back into the hall, and waved someone forward, ducking into the room. Rather than head to the console, he waited by the door, until a small ball of energy rolled into the room. Poe laughed incredulously.
“BB-8?!”
Thank the stars! Master Poe!
BB-8 whirred happily, docking into a port. Poe dropped, the trooper catching him carefully in his arms, and helping him to his feet. He fixed him with a confused glance, flicking his gaze back and forth from the white helmet to BB.
“He a friendly?”
As far as I can tell. Looking for a pilot to get off this hellhole.
He arched an eyebrow, cocking his head at the trooper. “You a defector?”
The trooper was quiet for a second before pushing his helmet up, and setting it to the side. Poe’s eyes lingered on his face. He had wide, dark eyed, short-cropped dark hair, and full lips. He was handsome. He shook the thought, tacking it up to the last of the drugs.
“I’m not going to kill for them.” His voice was firm, but he spoke quietly. Poe just nodded, and let him help him hobble towards the door. BB picked up the rear, and the trio moved quickly down the hallway, to the hangar.
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breakingbadfics · 4 years ago
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Kylo Ren Part 2. The inverse Aliana.
So we have this kid named Ben Solo. He’s the grandson of one of the most powerful Jedi the galaxy ever saw, the nephew of the jedi who fired the shot that won the battle of yavin and the son of one of the most noteworthy members of the Rebel Alliance, and the woman who would go on to lead the reformation of the galactic republic as well as the son of a very infamous smuggler. 
And something...happens. 
In episode 8 it’s revealed that some sort of dark side presence popped up to start tempting  Ben Solo as a child. We would learn that this was Emperor Palpatine by way of the proxy of Lord Snoke. Only feeling the dark side presence and not knowing that Ben Solo wasn’t the source of that presence loses faith in the goodness in Ben Solo’s heart and decided to promptly end Ben Solo’s life before he can grow up to become the worst sith lord. in a moment of clarity Luke Skywalker realises he’s about to murder his literal child nephew and stops himself, but not before Ben can wake up to see his own uncle brandishng a lightsaber over him which prompts him to retaliate in self defence and then leave. Ben would eventually seek out the supreme leader of the first order where he would be inducted nito the ranks of the knights of ren and trained in the dark side of the force and become the cudgel for the First Order. 
In The Sith Resurgence...Ben is just a piece of shit. An entitled asshole who was given everything to him with no struggle by virtue of his legacy. He was naturally gifted in the force but just “Didn’t do his homework.” He can barely wield a lightsaber, narration constantly remarking about him being clumsy in combat. Somehow despite any initial training from Luke SKywalker, the presence of Snoke, and being the leader of the Knights of Ren he’s effectively on par with a padawan learner and has not true skill. 
While I’m not gonna pretend people who manage to luck their way through life by way of being given chances purely because of who they are don’t exist in real life..this isn’t real life. The kind of settings Ben Solo/Kylo Ren grew up in didn’t have the kind of distractions that would allow him to just shirk responsibility like the writer would want him to be. The First Order, would not allow Kylo Ren, Their answer to Darth Vader just skirt and slide through. It would not be worth it to them to do so. Ben Solo was likely surrounded by other students who wouldn’t want him to slack off, and his uncle likely would pay personal attention to him. The Knights of Ren  were very likely the kind of group that if you aren’t pulling your weight they don’t just kick you out..they kill you. 
So why is it that somehow in The Sith Resurgance Kylo Ren is a complete non-threat at all times? 
Oh right...the whole Hating Kylo Ren and ReyLo thing. 
Because Aliana has to be a counterpoint to Kylo Ren’s canon version; a Sith Lord interested primarily in self preservation,and having morals that align with the writer.  TSR’s rendition of Kylo Ren is...ineffectual Dark Jedi in name only who’s racist and homophobic, filled with greed and taken serious by no one, not even the group of people he’s in charge of, not even the man who purposefully tempted him into joining the dark side takes him seriously. The Narrative refuses to allow him a moment of gravity in spite of the fact he’s the primary villain of the story. Everytime he so much as starts brooding some sort of comedic moment occurs to undercut the tension. 
of course, there is one serious moment the story take serious, and that Kylo Ren torturing Rey in episode 7..even though even canonically it never happens again, even the scene itself Rey turns it around on Kylo Ren. But thats the moment that’s on focus and on blast. 
Again; I don’t actually give a fuck about ReyLo. But the lense of Shipping discourse is the only way this makes sense. 
And the writer would likely tell you something like he doesn’t deserve to be taken serious, or that Kylo Ren got where he was because of social priveleges. and maybe she’s right, but also....That still effectively leaves the story with little central tension of conflict. And ultimately results in a story that feels empty and lifeless. 
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niqhtlord01 · 5 years ago
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Humans are Weird: Common sayings are confusing
Human: Looks like we are going down the rabbit hole. Alien: Rabbits are extremely tiny friend human, we will not be able to fit down them. Human: No, I meant - Alien: If you give me an explosive charge I can attempt to enlarge the hole.  Human: Please do not explode the bunny.  --------------------- Human: Well someone has a chip on their shoulder.  Alien: Oh gods! What is a “Chip”? Is it another murder animal from you planet?!?!? Human: No need to- Alien: Where is it?! I can not see this chip! Is it still on my shoulder!??? OH GODS I DON’T WANT TO DIE! Human: You need to calm dow- Alien 2: I heard shouting, what’s going on? Alien: There is a chip on my shoulder and I can no longer see it! Help me find it!!!!  --------------------- Human: Looks like curiosity killed the cat.  Alien: Whoever this “curiosity” is is clearly a dick for killing cats.  --------------------- Human: This’ll cost and arm and a leg.  Alien: *slowly backs away* Alien: Your species have a disturbing form of currency.  --------------------- Human: Penny for your thoughts? Alien: I am insulted you think so little of my thoughts.  --------------------- Human: Looks like they’re about to bite the dust.  Alien: I respect you friend human, but I must tell you that your species need to bite and lick everything is causing concern in galactic circles.  --------------------- Human: We’re going to do this by the book. Alien: Which book? Human: I....what? Alien: Which book are we doing this by?  Human: You see- Alien: Another human friend gave me a book called “Fifty Shades of Grey”. Are we doing things by this book? Human: Oh god..... --------------------- Human: We’re as good as gold. Alien: You do realize gold is one of the most frail metals in the universe, correct?  --------------------- Human: Have you seen my grandfather clock?  Alien: *Looks at wooden clock, then back at human* Alien: Your species reproduction is.....confusing.  --------------------- Human: You sure you don’t have an ax to grind with them?  Alien: We have laser weapons friend human, I have no need for axes.  Human: That’s not- Alien: Besides, why would I grind my ax with them? I would rather bury it in them.    --------------------- Human: We’ll get this done come hell or high water.  Alien: Oh gods your hell is actually real??? I thought it was all fake!  Human: It’s just a- Alien to other alien: Guys! Turns out the human hell is real! We’re all doomed!!!!  --------------------- Human: Houston, we have a problem. Alien: What is the point of wearing name tags if you never read them!!!?!?  --------------------- Alien: Can you come help me with this cake?  Human: Sure, I can take a swing at it.  Alien: *Suddenly protective of cake* Alien: Please do not attack my cake.   --------------------- Human: Let’s kick the tires and light the fires!  Alien: I think you need medical help friend human. Your pyro obsession is concerning.  --------------------- Human: Thanks, you saved my bacon. Alien: I just saved you from being run over and you are concerned about your bacon, you humans are strange. --------------------- Human: We need three square meals a day. Alien: But all of your plates are round.  --------------------- Human: You need to take what he says with a grain of salt.  Alien: Friend human, if I do that I will die.  Human: I- Alien: Do you wish me to die whenever they speak with me?  Human: No, that’s- Alien: Please friend human, I do not want to die.  --------------------- Human: That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.  Alien: Your strides and leaps are pathetic human. One of my species steps is four of yours. 
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djinmer4 · 5 years ago
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Space Lord 2
“So how are my two favorite humans doing?”  Vag’ner clamped his hands down on Quill and Pryde’s shoulders, hopefully derailing their very public argument.  The woman jumped and slipped away from his grasp (he still couldn’t figure out how she kept doing that) while Quill scowled at him.
“We’re the only humans you’ve ever met.”
“Not true!  I happened to meet a Carol Danvers from Earth, traveling with an entire squadron of Skrulls.”
“Two out of three ain’t a-”
“Funny you should mention Captain Danvers.  That’s actually what we were discussing right now,” Kitty interjected.
“Well, why don’t we sit down someplace in private and the two of you could tell me all about it.”  Accepting the reprimand for what it was, the two Terrans let the senior Ravager captain manhandle them into a small room.  Not exactly the most secure location but at least they weren’t arguing in front of an entire bar full of witnesses this time.
Kitty started them off.  “First of all, how do you feel about the Kree?”
One dark eyebrow arched.  “I was part of the team with Stakar Ogord that ravaged the Badoon Brotherhood slave traders 32~” Everyone’s translators made a scratchy noise before picking up again. “40 years ago.  I’ve no fondness of the Kree, as Quill should have told you.  Why?”
“Oh, um,” for some reason Kitty’s face turned reddish.  “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t one.”  He opened his mouth but she outran him.  “You’re blue after all.”
“Quill, you’ve got a long way to go on this one.  Yes, I’m blue.  But first of all, not all Kree are blue-”
“She’s met Yon-Rogg,” stated Quill dryly.
“-and second not all blue races are Kree.”  He nodded at the younger captain.  “Quill’s sponsor, Yondu, is a Centurian and I’m a Bamf.”
Kitty nodded stiffly.  “Okay.  I didn’t know that before.”  She shook her head.  “Anyway, you said you met Danvers, right?”
“Right.”
“Did she tell you about how she got her powers?”
“Something about an exploded Light Speed Engine, powered by the Tesseract.  She didn’t have either of those items on her and couldn’t tell me how to replicate them so I wasn’t very interested.”  Suddenly the connection snapped in his brain.  “Wait, do the Kree have another of those things?”
Quill and Kitty exchanged a glance, and she made a quick whirling gesture with her fingertips.  Quill took up the narrative.  “We don’t think so, at least not yet.  But Kitty’s got a lead from God knows where-”
“I got it from Nick Fury in SHIELD.”
“That statement means nothing to me and Vag’ner.  Anyway, she’s got a lead that Mar-Vell apparently didn’t manage to eliminate all of her fellow researchers before fleeing the Kree.  It’s taken them a lot longer, but it looks like they’re on the verge of recreating the Light Speed Engine.’
While the Bamf contemplated the horror of the Kree gaining yet another superweapon, Kitty spoke again.  “We know this one’s not powered by the Tesseract so it will probably be much weaker than Mar-Vell’s version.”
“But that’s still a lot of power.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, I can agree that’s bad.  But what were you two arguing about then?”  Then it hit him.  On one side, an empire that covered thousands of planets and had existed for just as many stellar cycles.  On the other, one backward planet who’s dominant species hadn’t even left their solar system and one Ravager clan that had existed for less than a decade. “You need help and don't know who to ask.”
“I’ve already brought in the Nova Corps-”
“Without asking anyone.  And I want to ask the Shi’ar.  They’ve helped Earth, and especially the X-Men before.”
“The Shi’ar is still a violent, military expansive empire.  I’d trust the upper echelons of the Nova Corps way more than I would the Shi’ar.”
“What makes you think the Corps won’t also-”
The blue man dropped his hands to crash upon the table.  His companions stunned into silence, he took command of the conversation.  “Well, you’ve got me now, and I’m sure I can match either of those parties.  Grab the information you have and meet me on the Palatine in one-”  Another scrambling noise from the translators.  “-two hours.”
~~~~~~~
“I’ve been doing a lot of data mining.  Tracking Kree convoys, checking where people have run into security perimeters, blocking out areas of suspected Kree activity.”  Kitty had fumbled a bit with the Palatine’s projector screen at the beginning but got the hang of it quickly enough.  “I knocked off any place that didn’t have the free space for a research lab or lacked the potential resources or supply chain to support one.  I also removed any locations claimed and held by the other galactic powers, like the Shi’Ar or the Inhuman Alliance.”
“Makes sense,” noted Bloody Bess.  “Those entities wouldn’t take kindly to the Kree trying to build a secret base in their territory, they’d already be on high alert to stop anything like that.”  The meeting had been pared down to Vag’ner, Bess, Quill, and Pryde.  Vag’ner’s crew trusted that he’d pass along anything that they needed to know.  Quill, on the other hand, his crew was simply too small, everyone else was either spending time maintaining the ship or out picking up supplies.
“Anyway, I’d narrowed the list down to 30 possible coordinates-”
Quill interjected at this point.  “Which is way too many for my crew to handle.  Fortunately, about half the locations were either official Kree outposts or disputed territory where the Nova Corps patrol.  So I turned over that list to them and they’re checking those places out.”
“So that’s what the two of you were fighting about.”  The Bamf rested his chin on his hands, blocking some of the projector lights on the table.
Pryde shot a glare at her captain.  “Yes.  I think that was premature.  With just a bit more information, I think I could have narrowed the list even further and not had to bring the Nova Corps into this mission until the end.”  Vag’ner made note of the terminology the translator used.  Mission implied that Kitty was working under conflicting loyalties because there’s no way Quill would have considered this a mission.  Adventure maybe.
Shaking his head, Vag’ner continued.  “15 sites are still too many for you to investigate.”
The other captain nodded.  “The other half of the argument.”
Bess was scrolling through the list.  “Hey, this one’s near Contraxia.  And that one’s near Knowhere.  I recognize a few others too.”  She looked up.  “The Nova Corps might not have access to these places, but they’re in Ravager territory.”
“How many?”
A few quick flicks of her hand.  “10.  The rest appear to be in the middle of nowhere, literally nowhere, not the city,  space.”
“Hmm.  The Milano should be able to handle 5 locations by itself.  My crew will check out these 10 or contact other clans in those areas and ask if they’ve seen any unusual Kree activity.”
The female Terran smiled, her eyes widening a little and a slight flush coming to her face.  “Oh, that would be-”
“Wait,” Quill clamped a hand over her shoulder.  “How much is this going to cost us?”
Vag’ner shook his head, dismayed again at how badly Yondu had trained this one.  “We’re Ravagers, Quill.  We don’t betray each other.”
Blue eyes narrowed a bit.  “I was raised as a Ravager, Captain.  Ravagers won’t do anything without payment.”
“What if I said I wanted all the equipment and supplies from the base as my payment?”
“I’d say Ravagers don’t do things on credit either.”
“Fine,” Vag’ner sighed, a touch louder than he would have if he’d been sincere.  “You said you had contacts with the Nova Corps?  There are a few minor . . . charges that I’d like to be pardoned on.”
Both Quill and Pryde did that human thing where half their face seemed to shift upwards while the rest of it stayed in place.  He always found the effect rather charming and was practicing to duplicate it himself.  “Are you seriously telling me there are some felonies you don’t want to receive credit and acclaim on?”  The Terran’s voice was incredibly even.
“Oh, I have no problem accepting blame when I’ve committed the crime.  However, my crew and mys-” Fritzing translator again.  “My clan and I aren’t responsible for these particular atrocities, and in fact, I’m rather offended that people still believe we’re behind them.  It’s one thing to be known as a bold and creative pirate, it’s quite another to be considered an indiscriminate murderer.”
The two Terrans turned to each other.  A bit more silent communication through eyebrow wiggling and Quill turned back to him while Pryde gathered up her data.  “Alright then, give me a list of the charges you want pardons on and any proof you have about your innocence.”
~~~~~~~
Vag’ner wouldn’t say he lives for fighting, but moments like these definitely go in the ‘fond memories’ category.  His crew is mostly concerned with hauling the equipment onto the Palatine but he’s chasing down the last two scientists.  He’s got them cornered when the lights start flashing and a siren starts screaming.  Tapping his communicator, he barks out, “Report!”
Pryde’s breathless voice answers.  “Quill set off the alarms; hit a button he shouldn’t have.  You done with everything?”
“Almost.  Everyone’s off the station and almost back to the ship.  Just got a few loose ends to pick up.”  It’s the work of seconds to exchange one of his swords for his blaster and two quick headshots to dispose of the scientists.  “Where are the two of you?”
“Sub-level . . . 3?” she pants.  A voice in the background.  “Oh, you’re right, 2.  We’re on Sub-level 2.”
He’s at the stairs when he starts encountering them.  Scaly and tunicate and twice as big as he is, clearly something engineered rather than evolved.  He sheathed his second sword and sticks to the blaster.  A quick glance shows that Quill and Pryde are almost there, but Quill’s right arm is hanging useless and he’s favoring his left leg.  Pryde’s just barely keeping the creatures off with Quill’s blaster, but it’s pretty clear she doesn’t really know how to use it.  Vag’ner whistles to attract everything’s attention then starts firing away.  When they reach the foot of the stairs, he grabs both of them and teleports them to the top, not trusting that ‘StarLord’ will be able to manage them in his condition.  They both turn an interesting shade of green but neither of them throws up, moving his respect for the Terrans up a notch.  “You got what you came for?” he asks as they make their way to the Milano.
Pryde shakes her head.  “Not exactly.  We weren’t able to destroy the Engine, so I’m just going to throw the whole station into the sun-”
“The what?”
“The system’s primary star.  This station isn’t in a stable orbit; they wanted to take advantage of solar flares.  Pete and I set the outer thrusters on full blast, If I have the Milano fire on the inner thrusters as well, the whole thing will propel itself straight in.”
Vag’ner hums.  He hadn’t actually seen the Engine while on-board so for all he knew, the thing was integrated throughout the entire thing.  “How long will that take?”
She glanced up at him and he resisted the urge to clean the streak of soot on her cheek.  There’d be time enough to expend the last of his battle-lust later.  “No more than a few hours.  You sticking around to watch?”
“Never trust that someone’s dead unless you’ve seen the body in person.  I guess making sure it really does get incinerated is the station equivalent.”  He looks around.  “You keep a medic pack on this hunk of junk?  I’ll handle Quill’s injuries first and then yours.  Assuming I’m not missing any fatal injuries of yours?”
“Just bumps and bruises.” They reached the gangway of the Milano and Drax sealed the ship even as Rocket started to pull away from the dock.
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experimentalmadness · 5 years ago
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Cin Vhetin Ch. 8: Judgement
Chapter Summary: Din and Zethu are out on assignment and things get tense. 
In which absolutely no one talks about their feelings and everyone is still firmly in the enemies to lover slowest of burns moods. 
Pairing: Din x OC/Reader (however you prefer to read it)
Masterlist: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
Ao3 Link
It’s a long one, folks just an fyi. Feel free to swap over to the Ao3 link if it’s easiest. And please lemme know if you are liking this story. :) 
***
Zethu was still expecting a trap.
She had raised all kinds of hell when the Mandalorian had stated point blank they’d be taking his ship and leaving her’s behind. But in the end she relented. It made a kind of sense she didn’t much feel like arguing over. Two ships were always more noticeable than the one. Besides if the Mandalorian didn’t intend to take her back to Nevarro to claim what’s hers, she could always kill him. 
Zethu shifted herself awkwardly into the seat behind the pilot’s chair. Her ribs hurt. Her face hurt. Her bones hurt, but she kept her mouth shut tight. Maybe the bounty hunter was just waiting until they were in deep space before blasting her out the airlock. Maybe he was waiting for her to let her guard down just long enough to slip a vibroblade between her cracked ribs. She fidgeted, hating everything about this entire situation. 
The Mandalorian seemed oblivious to Zethu’s distrustful stares boring into the back of his helmet. He took them up and out of Nevarro’s atmosphere and Zethu gave one last mournful look through the viewport at her lovely Lancer. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when they reached the relative quiet of space. 
The Mandalorian began punching in the coordinates in the nav computer to make the jump to lightspeed. Zethu braced herself as space warped around them. Normally she enjoyed that initial rush, the flow of energy as light and time distended and contracted. Now all she noticed was how it aggravated her injuries. 
She’d be trapped on this ship for at least a day. 
No way out. 
Something moved against her leg. Zethu jolted and immediately regretted the action, holding her side. She tried to lean forward to see what had brushed against her, seeing one tiny green claw batting at her calf. With one eyebrow raised she reached down and was rewarded with a childish giggle as she held the kid up by the collar of its little brown robe. “Don’t look now, Mando,” Zethu snickered, “but we have ourselves a stowaway.”
Zethu laughed at the double take the Mandalorian immediately performed. “What the—you’re supposed to be with Cara!”
The child offered up what Zethu was certain was an articulate excuse, but alas, it was in baby nonsense. She set the child down on her lap. “Sneaky little bug, aren’t ya?” 
“Get down from there.” It was extremely satisfying watching him gesture for the kid to leave Zethu’s lap. 
“Aw, I’m not about to hurt the kid.”
“Now,” the Mandalorian clarified. 
Balancing itself precariously the kid hopped down from Zethu’s lap, trundling over to the Mandalorian and hopping up onto the console instead. Still chuckling to herself, Zethu cautiously stood up from her chair, stretching out bruised muscles. The Mandalorian was mumbling quietly to the kid, huffing something about “what am I going to do with you?” and “Cara is gonna lose it.”
So she was surprised when he suddenly snapped his attention back to her as she made her way out of the cockpit. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Uh? Clearly not out into space?” With that she dropped down the ladder into the ship proper. 
It wasn’t much. Neither was her ship either if she was being honest. She tapped a few slats and prodded obviously sealed closet and storage spaces. Punching a few buttons revealed a veritable armory. She whistled as she surveyed the blasters before the doors were suddenly shut in her face. 
The Manadalorian was at her side, kid swaddled in one arm, the other jabbing accusingly at her. “Don’t touch anything.”
Zethu backed off innocently enough, slumping down and sitting up against the opposite paneling. The kid squirmed out of the Mandalorian’s arms and went toddling back over to her. It seemed to be interested in examining the buckles on her boots. “You know I have no idea why the imps want this little bug. Gonna be honest though, they also failed to tell me I’d be going up against a full blown Mandalorian when I took the job,” she grinned. “After Raydonia I upped my price. They were...not happy.”
“Who do they say you’d be after, then?” he leaned against a crate and even through the helmet Zethu could tell he was watching the kid closely. 
Zethu shrugged. “Just some hunter who reneged on a deal. Think they were afraid standard mercs would back out if they knew. You guys do have a bit of a reputation, you know.”
“Still gonna collect?” 
“Yup,” Zethu said without a moment’s hesitation. “I also have a bit of a reputation, Mando,” she winked. 
“So,” the man crossed his arms, “what’s the plan for Coruscant? I wouldn’t advise going in blasters hot.”
“Hah! Not unless we wanted to get arrested by the Republic. No, I got a little germ of an idea. If your friend’s info was correct and you can get me into the tech center I might be able to draw out Gedos without firing a shot. At least until we get him somewhere more secure.”
She ran a gloved finger down the kids’ long ear. It giggled, wiggling its head and playfully batting at her hand. She didn’t much want to think about Gedos Sal, or what was going to happen on Coruscant. 
“The other Offshoots who saw you wanted you dead,” The Mandalorian pointed out. His modulator gave him a similar flat affect to his voice as Zethu’s own once did, but he hadn’t put in any of the regulators she had done to tune the emotion out. She heard his curiosity...tinged with a bit of disgust. Honestly, his judgement of her life was getting tiresome. 
“Gedos won’t.”
Your parents would be proud of you. She was eight years old again, dirt-faced and bloodied as she kneeled, bent over in electro-stocks, hands and neck shackled by the sparking blue electricity. Remember you’re the best of them.
“His mistake,” Zethu snapped. “It’s to our advantage. We get him secure, we get him back to Numidian—”
“And then we settle this.”
Zethu stared hard at the tinted visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet. “Yeah. Once and for all.”
***
Din couldn’t remember the last time he had been near Coruscant’s orbit. Flying into the heart of the former Galactic—now Republic—space was not the norm. Sure, hunters made the trip all the time in search of marks and the galaxy’s biggest city had a fairly lucrative underworld, but it was no place for a Mandalorian. He glanced over his shoulder at his reluctant companion and saw Zethu Desh looked equally concerned as she stared hard out the viewport. She probably wouldn’t want to come this close to the Republic either. 
The Crimson Dawn operative had called her a terrorist in Arkanian space. It didn’t take a particularly good imagination to wonder what she could have done to be slapped with that crime. Sedition against her own people and murder were the other charges leveled against her. She clearly had little love for her kind. But whatever her flaws at least she fought like a hell of a warrior. He could respect that.
Din brought the Razor Crest in for a landing and his dislike for Coruscant rose tenfold. There were no good hiding places to land out of sight. The massive city rose up before them complete with traffic, skyscraping spires, and neon sign postings. He swore under his breath.
“Head out to the Works,” Zethu mumbled into her hand. Her face was pressed into her palm as she rested facing the viewport. 
“The what?”
“Abandoned factory district. ‘S quiet there. We’ll have a bit of a walk towards the city proper but it’s better than paying Coruscant landing prices. Less noticable too. You wanna go east from here.”
Staring at her would not determine if she had an ulterior motive for the landing site, and Din didn’t have another viable solution to refute her. Shrugging, he took her advice and headed east, keeping his altitude as high as he could to avoid possible sensors or trackers. Who knew what the New Republic had installed in the atmo to count incoming ships. He traveled at Zethu’s directions until the skyline leveled and a trail of black smoke entered the sky. 
Fire and ash gushed from pipes across the surface and rusted over factories dotted the landscape. Din took the Razor Crest in lower, doing a quick scan and sensing no living heat signatures. In the end, he decided on landing the ship in the shadow of one of the larger factory shells. There was plenty of flat available surface nestled between the abandoned structure and the massive pipes. 
“Alright,” Din swiveled in his seat. “You are going to stay here in this time!” He pointed at the child who had once again, despite his insistence, found its way onto Zethu’s lap. 
“Sure, keep the kid in the ship on one of the biggest cities ever. It’s not like its known to wander off, right? That sounds like a great idea,” Zethu mocked. 
She had a point. He hated that. “I’m not taking the kid into a fight.”
“If we do things right there won’t be much of a fight,” Zethu stood up, gently placing the kid back on the ground. “The little bug’ll be fine. More than I can say for leaving it here on the hope it doesn’t disappear without a trace.”
“Didn’t seem to care for the kid’s well-being when you were trying to blast us out of the sky months ago.”
Zethu only shrugged, a sharp-toothed half grin appearing on her face. “Not trying to do that today, though am I? Honestly, Mando could we try and stay in the moment?” She dropped out of sight down the ladder. 
There wasn’t much for it. He gathered his weapons and the child and disembarked. Instantly, Din was glad he hadn’t left the kid behind. The Works were a vast, ashen-covered district with trap after trap for a small womp rat like the kid to get lost in. And it had a terrible habit of trying to sneak out. They’d have to work on that. 
Zethu hadn’t been kidding about that walk back to the city. Without a speeder or an air taxi it took the three of them well into the early evening to bridge into the underbelly of the city proper. “How long do you think a work day is here?” Din asked. “Any chance of Gedos still being at the tech centers by the time we could reach them.”
“Fair point,” Zethu shrugged. “Luckily we got plenty of options for a stake out.”
“What? No. I’m getting us a speeder and we’re heading back to the ship.”
“Like hell we are!” Zethu laughed. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather sleep in a bed.”
“Zethu!” but she was already walking away, hands in pockets. “Zethu!” with another curse he chased after her. “Maybe this will come as a shock to you, but I need to keep a low profile.”
She rolled her eyes at that. “You’re on Coruscant, Mando. No one cares who you are or what you do, or where you came from. Here, you just let me do the talking. And give me the kid.”
“No.”
“Look, I’m not gonna—”
Din drew his blaster and pressed it none-to-gently into ribs he knew were still heavily bandaged. “I said no.”
Zethu batted the blaster away, but backed off, glaring at him and rubbing her chest. “Fine,” she growled and Din heard her curse in Arkanian. 
They picked up an airtaxi without an issue, heading in no particular direction, but Zethu seemed to have a vague idea of direction. Din wanted to ask her when the last time she had been on Coruscant had been, but Zethu didn’t seem to be in the sharing mood anymore. And she had been right about one thing, no one seemed to be paying them any serious attention. 
His armor caught a few curious glances, but for the most part the city was teeming with folk just trying to reach their destination. Most never even bothered looking up from where they were driving or walking. Zethu continued to steer them on. They rose a few levels in the planetary city, but not too high. Judging from the decor they were still in the seedier underbelly, and that was fine by him. 
Din was in danger of getting completely lost but Zethu brought them to a dimly lit hotel where a female Rodian greeted them in her language. As Zethu promised she did the majority of the talking. 
“A room for me and my partner, please,” she said. 
The Rodian said something that made Zethu laughed. Admittedly his Rodese was a little rusty, but he was positive they were talking about him. “What? No, you think he’s a real Mandalorian? Trust me, friend, you don’t want to know what he had to do to get that armor.”
At the Rodian’s response Zethu reached into her pockets for a handful of credits, sliding an appropriate amount over to the receptionist and, with two fingers, sliding a few extra back. “A tip,” she winked. “We were never here.”
The Rodian responded with a little bow, taking her extra credits. “Hah! Exactly, city’s so big all types of people come this way,” Zethu said with another big smile as she gestured for Din to follow her to the lift. 
The minute the doors sealed she let out a breath and the jovial expression on her face melted away. “Rodians are so easy,” she said without malice or much of anything at all. Those colorless eyes held no visible animosity, but there was a hard line around her mouth. All business again. 
The lift let them out in a suitably comfortable space. The child, as if sensing they were in a relatively safe area, wriggled free of his grip and wandered into the room, climbing up on one of the two beds. “This’ll do,” Zethu shrugged out of her crimson jacket. “I’d say make yourself comfortable, but I doubt you will.” 
Neither was she. She wouldn’t stay still for a moment, checking cabinets, drawers, and thoroughly shaking out the bedsheets. Looking for possible surveillance? Hidden weapons? Probably both given their shady location. “You know I’ve always wondered, do Mandalorians actually sleep with their helmets on?” she sniggered as she finished her sweep.
“While you’re here? Yes.”
“You’re funny, Mando,” Zethu winked as she unlatched the transparisteel screen, leaning out onto the miniscule balcony. The sounds of the city filtered into the room, speeders and hawkers, droid whistles and a steady thrum of music playing in one of the many clubs of the Undercity. “Never really had an excuse to get to know most of my marks before.” 
“You seem to know your way around. When was the last time you were planetside?” Din ignored her attempts to rile him up. He meticulously laid out his arsenal on the edge of his own bed, shifting the kid away from the rifle and vibroblades each time it waddled too close. 
“Eh...long time. Works good on Coruscant if you can get it and not upset the local mercs, but I prefer living in the Mid to Outer Rim,” Zethu wasn’t looking at him, content to sit herself by the balcony ledge and stare out towards the city. 
“Away from the Dominion.”
At that her gaze did snap back to him. She glared hard for a moment, before a little of that anger seemed to slough off as she gave a large sigh and roll of her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the screen. “Yeah. Away from them.”
“A terrorisim charge must make getting bounty work hard,” he counted the rounds of ammunition he still had, hearing Zethu’s hateful laugh. 
“You know for some crime syndicates it makes them give me a higher starting offer. When most people hear of you evading the Arkanian Dominion for two whole decades word gets around.”
“When people hear you kill your own without hesitation I imagine that gets around, too.”
“Oh fuck you, Mando.” Din had never heard such malice from the merc before not even prior to their marathon fight. He turned around half expecting to see her ready to fling herself at him, weapons out, but she was still sitting patiently by the balcony, only her face showed the real wrath. Her body was poised and still. 
“I got the terrorism charge slapped on when I blew a couple of Adascorp facilities sky-high. Didn’t even know about it until I saw my name show up on someone’s datapad. House Adasca never leaves loose ends, but screw ‘em. Screw the damn Adascacorp, the Dominion, and every. Single. Arkanian, left on that iceball wreck of a planet. You don’t get to judge me, Mando. I was born in a dark, abysmal mineshaft with Arkanian overseers so harsh they wouldn’t even let my own mother off her shift long enough to give birth to me. That’s how much an Offshoot miner’s life is worth where I come from. We were genetically invented to obey and scrap and bow to our Arkanian masters. My parents tried to incite the miners to rebellion. Some great uprising of my Offshoot brethren that would “unite us all” or some absolute spacejunk. All it got was them shot by a firing squad while the rest of “my” people went on like nothing changed. I stole a freighter first chance I got. Should never have let anyone else on it. But some people in my mining crew found out. Said sure, why not. Better than going into the galaxy alone, right? Serves me right. Second we get spotted by Dominion ships half of them are blubbering about maybe we should just head back and ask for forgiveness. I wasn’t going back. So I shot the three who begged. That’s my big crime against my people, Mando. And I’d do it again. Survival is everything. What sins have your Mandalorians committed to stay alive that you get to judge me for mine?”
Din had nothing he could say to that. Zethu’s eyes never shifted from him, never flinched. The wind tousled her silver hair across her face as she shook her head at him, turning to stare back out the window. She took a deep, controlled breath in and it was only then Din saw how tight she had been clenching her fists against her lap. 
“I hate this damn planet,” she said quietly, the anger leaving her voice bit by bit so that she sounded smaller...sadder even than Din would have guessed possible. “You can’t see the stars here.”
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