#Hylo screams

[justascreamingcripple]

So this is just me screeching into the void, as one does, but like.

I am sick of being stared at. I shouldn't have HAD to get used to it, or to find ways to cope at being gawked at like a zoo exhibit.

I also shouldn't have to be used to getting asked invasive questions by random strangers. Kids I can get, they're just curious and don't know better, but grown ass adults have asked me if my junk works like that's their business and I hate it!

The fact that I get talked to like a young child, or people talk to whoever is with me drives me up a wall! Why is it okay to assume I can't speak and answer for myself, or assume the person with me id there as a hired carer or for pity reasons? My boyfriend got hit on in front of me once, and when I said we were together, the bitch deadass went "I know sweetie, I'm talking about when he's not working."

Or that places will advertise that they're "accessible" meanwhile they have a one inch door lip and they mean they don't play loud music or spray scents. Both are great!! But until everyone is able to get in and do shit, it ain't accessible fuck you! My wheelchair can't get in, and even if I COULD the bathroom stall for me has all the cleaning supplies and the changing station in it! Am I just meant to piss on your floor?? UGH

Basically I want to throttle ableism and ableists and for some reason today I'm just extra pissed off. "Oh Hylo did something happen?" Nope! I'm just angry.

[liviavanrouge]

What If...

Hylo: *Laughs*

Livia (7): *Spits out chicken feathers, glaring at the brown hen* I'LL GET YOU ESMERALDA!!!

Hylo: *Chuckles and helps her stand up* Alright, alright, kiddie~

Livia: *Huffs as he set her down on her feet* That chicken is a menace...

Hylo: But she lays a ton of eggs though, haha!

Livia: That's the only good thing she's got going for her-

Livia: *Screams and runs out of the chicken pen when Esmeralda ran at her*

Hylo: *Laughs, his hands on his knees*

Livia: UNCLE HYLO, THAT'S NOT FUNNY!

Hylo: *Chuckles and leaves the chicken pen* You're right, it's hilarious!

Livia: *Pouts, crossing her arms*

Hylo: Let's go to the stables

Livia: YEAH!! *Runs off beaming*

Hylo: *Chuckles and walks after her, fixing his hat*

~~~~

Hylo: *Grins, riding on his stallion*

Livia: *Giggles, riding on her stallion beside him, holding the reins close*

Hylo: WOAH! Woah boy!

Livia: *Gently tugs on the reins, stopping her horse*

Hylo: Hey!

Lilia: *Looks over and smiles* Hey you two!

Baul: Livy, Hylo

Livia: Hi Papa, Hi Uncle Baul!

Lilia: *Walks over and pats her leg* Are you having fun with your uncle, Livia?

Livia: Esmeralda chased me again but yeah, I'm having fun!

Lilia: *Laughs, smiling up at her* That's good, you two go ahead now

Hylo: I'm gonna teach Livia how to trade for animals

Livia: I'm gonna start my own farm one day, Papa!

Lilia: Then you go ahead and do that, listen to your Uncle Hylo well, he's a great farmer

Hylo: *Chuckles and tilts his hat back* Just a regular retired soldier cowboy

Livia: *Giggles as he fixed her hat* The best cowboy!

Lilia: *Grins* Shouldn't you two be getting to that trade?

Hylo: Yep! Come on Livy!

Hylo: YAH! *Rides away on his stallion, grinning* Come on Thunder!

Livia: Follow them Breeze! YAH! *Grins, riding after her uncle on her stallion*

Baul: *Waves, watching the two go*

Lilia: *Chuckles*

@queen-of-twisted @zexal-club @yukii0nna @teddymochi @soulfungai

[zabrakghoul]

childhood memories

first swtor fic that i've actually finished wow! enjoy :)

Auicia's armour feels heavier on her shoulders as she takes another shot of tihaar. She's not even listening to Gault talk about… something or other, she didn't care. Not right now. Her eyes dart over to where they've been looking this whole time.

Light red skin with tattoos that look like rivers. Short black hair. Small blue eyes that shine like the water back home.

Saasri Kallig.

Or, Master Lynnoris Sulcor, as she called herself now. I'm being stupid. She probably doesn't even remember me.

"Can you read me a story, Aui? The one about the big grophet and his friends?"

"Sure, Rii. Promise you'll sleep after?"

"I promise!"

She'd hugged Auicia, after that, and asked to be picked up. She was about three, then; two weeks before her fourth birthday. Auicia shook her head at the memory. Saasri- Lynnoris, had always been so sweet and affectionate. Always wanting to be near her and Iofio, no matter what they were doing, no matter how boring. Even if it was just looking for scrap to sell, or collecting rocks along the coast of Raider's Cove, she wanted to be near her big sisters.

"Commander."

She snapped her head up. It's her. Her baby sister--no, she's not a baby anymore, stop thinking about that--in front of her.

"Yeah?"

"You were looking at me. I was unsure if you needed something."

Auicia hadn't realised she was staring. Hell, this was going to be awkward.

"Nope. Just looking around."

Gault gave her that look, that stupid look, one that screams that it was obvious she was staring.

"I'll leave you two be," he says, getting up, "I'll be off to go see my favourite woman." He said it loud enough so that Hylo could hear him from the other side of the bar; she hadn't even noticed Hylo came. The Mirialan rolls her eyes, dragging him off to stars-know-where. She wants to beg Gault to stay. He can't leave her alone like this, with her, in this situation. As much as she jokes and teases, the scoundrel had become something of a brother to Auicia. An uncle, maybe. She doesn't want to think about that right now, though. She doesn't want to think about any of her relationships.

"Well, if you need anything, you know where I am, Commander."

Saasri, Lynnoris, whatever she's called now, it hurts too much to think of, walks off with a short bow, as Auicia waves. She gets up and she walks--jogs--to her quarters. She can't deal with anyone right now. She doesn't want to deal with anyone right now.

A tug on her shirt.

"Aui, why are you crying?"

"Oh, it's… It's nothing, Rii. Why don't you go play with your sister?"

"Because you always hug me when I'm crying, and I wanna hug you now."

She'd been trying to pay off her father's debts to the Nova Blades, posthumously as it was. She didn't realise she was crying, she just knew Saasri was worried, and… she picked up the smaller girl, some of her tears falling on to the smaller Zabrak's head.

"Thank you, Rii."

The little girl nodded, nuzzling Auicia's shoulder in the process.

The weight lifted off her shoulders a bit.

She takes her armour off somewhat hastily, the weight too heavy for her at this point. The alcohol, these memories, all her feelings--far too much to handle for one woman, even one as strong as her. She wants to just get on the Mantis and go somewhere, maybe get a few drinks with Essarae and Risha, but no. She can't be seen like this, sweating and halfway drunk, on the walk to her ship. The Commander of the Alliance, seen like this…

"Commander, I have the-"

That voice. That deep voice.

"…It can wait."

"No." She says it a bit too loudly, a bit too quickly. It's Aereo Vral, her best operative, head of the Alliance's intelligence operations. And she's crying in front of him--she hadn't even realised she was crying until now, watching his eyes dart across her face like that--"Don't pity me, I don't need it", she wants to say so badly.

She feels an arm wrap around her, a strong arm, a familiar one.

"It's alright."

It's not. It's not alright. This is pathetic.

"I miss her."

"I know, I know," he says, kneeling down to sit on the floor in front of her chair, "you're alright."

Somehow, she gets the feeling he does actually know, even if he shouldn't, but- she doesn't care.

Maybe things will be alright.

[chaoticstrata]

Rass/Zabe WIP

Here's some more of my Rass/Zabe fic I'm working on. Enjoy!

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

“Replacement Mando, huh?” Rass grinned, more than a little amused as he looked the Captain up and down, “Do I need to be worried? Or excited?”

The instant mischievous grin he received from the other man made him feel even better about this assignment--the smuggler had a sense of humor, thank the Stars. Lavender eyes--wow, were they even more breathtaking up close--looked him over in return.  “Well, that depends on who you’re asking, handsome,” the smuggler said, leaning against the crates they were loading into his ship, “If it’s me, I’d say the latter, without a doubt. If it’s the Mando you’re replacing, then he’d say the former…but then again, he’s not here to say that so you’ll have to take my word for it.” “A bit of both then, got it,” the Mandolorian chuckled as he held out his hand to Zaberial, “Nice to meet you, Captain. Rass Ordo.” “Zaberial Tithete, a true pleasure,” the smuggler said as he gave Rass another lookover with hungry eyes. ‘Well now, sir, the feeling is mutual,’ Rass thought, trying his damnedest to hold back the smug grin. He could practically hear Hylo’s eyes roll in her head as the two of them not so subtly flirted. “Oh boy, you two are going to get along like a nexu in a porg’s nest,” the older Mirialan sighed, shaking her head. “Pouncing right on top of them?” Zaberial suggested, grinning very much like a nexu. “Why do I have this feeling I’ve become a porg in this situation?” Rass asked with a soft laugh. And he didn’t mind in the least, especially when the Captain just bit the side of his lip in response and eyed him like a hungry predator. Damn that was sexy. Hylo sighed in a way that screamed this wasn’t the first time she’s dealt with this. As she started to walk away, she said, “I’ll leave you two to it…just remember you have deliveries to make, Zabe.” “Of course, I’m a professional, remember,” he called out after with a laugh. “Uh huh,” she called back before disappearing behind a set of crates. The Captain chuckled softly, a fond look crossing his handsome features. “I take you’re good friends with Captain Hylo?” Rass asked as he set down his rucksack and leaned against the same crate. “Yeah, you could say that. She’s practically a second mom to my brother and me…” Zaberial paused, then laughed, “Well, more like the fun aunt who’d give us sugar before sending us back to our parents.”

[sullustangin]

New Fic!

Eva Corolastor is back.

Chapter 1: Near Death Experiences

“I have always loved the stars.”

That could apply to anyone onboard Virtue’s Thief.  Eva knew that as she climbed up onto the hull.  But she was the only one with the energy to sneak out this late and lay out a blanket and just look up.  They were planetside for the first time in what felt like years (but it was actually weeks).

Ma was in quarters; it had been a long flight, so she’d turned in early.  Dad was with her; he’d finished maintenance early and hey, what do you know, in the same place at the same time. 

Eva knew when to make her exit.

“Caution: there are no railings up there.”  Huck called up from his position in the Thief’s hallway.

“Don’t blow your bolts,” Eva answered back, keeping her voice low.  She knew Huck had fancy auditory sensors – probably for hunting prey, but it was perfectly good for hearing pre-teen girls pattering atop the ship.  “I’m just seeing the stars be still, for once.”  Eva craned her neck slightly.  “And a pretty cool view of a planet.”

When Virtue’s Thief was in flight, all the universe was in motion.  Here on Ithor – well, technically, one of the floating city starports above Ithor – it moved so much slower.  It was almost still.

 And Ithor was crazy.  They loved their jungle so much they moved everybody and everything, including their space sheep, to floating platforms within the atmosphere.  So Eva had twice as many reasons to be up on the hull tonight.  She got to watch a planet spin beneath her while outside the Thief and without EV gear. 

And of course, there were the stars.  They were infinite.  Eva was insignificant.  She always took comfort in that.  Universal constants in a constantly changing galaxy.  Eva knew that as a smuggler kid; people like her had to take what they could get.  She’d take the stars, any day –

A pop into the atmosphere interrupted Eva’s train of thought.  That was awful close.

“Observation: atmospheric turbulence in close proximity to the ship” came Huck’s dutiful report. 

But Eva only heard him as background noise as she realized that a massive freighter was hauling ass right toward the Thief.  “We’re already parked here, buddy,” she muttered.

The freighter dipped lower.  And lower –

He was trying to show off for her – buzz her and her ship- --

But this guy had never been to Ithor before – didn’t know how the gravity worked, didn’t know that Eva wasn’t strapped down to the hull –

The wake of air sent her eleven-and-a-half-year-old body flying across the hull.  The rivets and hatches and latches ripped at her clothes, bruised her skin.  The gust took her past the edge and down ---

Down, down, down  -- a hundred feet to the landing pad

(because the landing gear was down and the XS Light was 80 feet tall without it)

Eva opened her mouth to scream but she couldn’t –

She wasn’t even going to get to pilot the Thief.  She didn’t even get to say bye to Hylo –

Or her parents –

But that was later – years?

Suddenly:

…

…

…

White.

…

…

Clarity.

…

This was the wrong time.

…

Deep inside, a twist, as if an organ was churned in the wrong direction.

“I’m dying --!”

“We are being reborn.”

Viscerally, Eva pushed and grabbed at that light to get her the hell away from him.

“Wake up.  We have to go.”

Who?

Who? 

Who?

Who?!

…

A grey blur sped by her eyes, pops of color catching her gaze.  They flew about her, and she could hear them:

Never let them see you hesitate.  Gotta be smooth in every motion –

We love you – always have.

Orion’s Glory to Gloriana –

The title of Captain passed to her automatically.

That’s Hylo the cat.  And I’m gonna do my best to get you home.

Little Girl…

Let’s hit the hyperlanes.  I always feel better after a good caper.

Darmas, do you think she would have liked me?

I will never leave you.

Eva…I’m so sorry.

This kind of fleet can’t last, but I’ve never seen anything like it.

They’re all talking about you out there, Captain.  Calling you the Voidhound.

A swirl of black and she felt the mantle fall upon her shoulders.

Your taste for spies is not for the weak.

Now what do we do about this?

I need you.

New day.  Maybe it will all work out.

What –

What—

WHO

EVA, GET UP HERE RIGHT NOW. WE’RE TAKING OFF.

Eva, time for bed! 

Eva—

Eva?

Eva! 

Eva…

She was alive.

She was awake.

She was Eva Corolastor.  Everything else was ---

~~

The story continues on AO3

[alphaofdarkness]

Aw thank you for the tag @spectacular-supernova ! Been a while since I’ve done these:

1. Atsushi Nakajima (Bungou Stray Dogs) will always hold number one in my heart, can’t help it 🥺🤍

2. Ranpo Edogawa (Bungou Stray Dogs) my silly sweets detective I love you 💚����🍬 he’s upsetty that I placed him second I’m still cherish you all the same 🤍🤲🏼

3. Katie “Pidge” Holt (Voltron: Legendary Defender) baby girl you are famous and I love her 👏🏼💚

4. Sabine Wren (Star Wars Rebels/Ahsoka Series) I’ve fallen in love with her again and I am just screaming about her (and Ezra and the whole Ghost Crew honestly) recently, please I need her to rest, stop putting her through the emotions and making her repress them 😭

5. Hairo/Hylo Rich (To Your Eternity) ah my silly man’s that feels no pain 🥺🤲🏼 I miss him but I am having fluffy thoughts with my self ship in the modern arc~ hopefully I can doodle down later~

Thank you so much again for tagging!

@the-pink-prophet @sleeping-platinum @gekkaritsu @mxthtea @our-eternalslumber @theangrypomeranian and anyone that would like to try it!

five comfort characters, five tags

thank you for the tag @grayeyedandroid!!

leonard "bones" mccoy (star trek: tos)

benji dunn (mission impossible)

benedick (much ado about nothing)

harold finch (person of interest)

john constantine (hellblazer)

no pressure tags: @queerfables @thevelvetarchive @smeerp @saint-starflicker @argylepiratewd

[spitzobsessed]

Follower Meme - Your character as an in-game follower

Rutha Alon Kallig-Revel

Formerly Darth Occlus, formerly Lord Kallig

Available: early in KOTET, as Hylo Vizs’s Alliance Alert.

Class: Scoundrel (blaster, stealth, heal). In major fights (Chapters 7 and 8) Sith Inquisitor, Assassin

Weapons: blaster, explosives, stealth belt. | Double-bladed lightsaber and Force, training of a Dark Councilor.

Likes: pragmatism, diplomacy, knowledge, lighthearted humor,

Dislikes: extreme patriotism, blind following, slavery, bullying the weak, cruelty

Selection lines:

“We meet again.”

“Commander.”

“You have a brilliant plan, don’t you.”

[Rare] “Make this quick.”

[Rare] “I have plans for the evening, I will make time for them.”

Misc. Click lines:

“What, you want a conversation? I only do those accompanied by tea.”

“I’m not angry at you.”

“Passion, yet peace. We could use some peace. “

“So, who came up with this “Alliance” idea? I vote Lana”

[Rare] “Yes, I’m a Sith. Yes, I quit. No, there won’t be a sob story.”

[Rare] “A ghost in my head says we’re doing all of this wrong. Don’t give me that look. Oh no, now he’s laughing.“

Mid-Fight lines:

“Score! “

*enraged scream-roar*

[Rare] “*muttering* A short mission, he says. We come in and get out, he says. Grrgrh”

“I have the power of Force and stupid on my side!”

[Healer role only] “Don’t die while I’m busy.”

[Healer role only] “You don’t die just yet.”

[Healer role only] “Hey, hey, can you hear me?”

Exiting Battle lines:

“I missed this. The feeling of victory.”

“No enemy can match us.”

“Another day, another victory.”

“Now is the time to rest.”

“Still alive, huh. Go see a proper healer though.”

Low Health lines:

“The Force... is overrated.”

“I would really rather you aid me.”

“Not fair!”

“Just so you know… *cough*.. this isn’t over yet.”

KO’d lines:

“Not.. Glorious… enough..”

“This is it? Guess it is.”

[Rare] “Do not laugh, you- … Ghosts are a menace.”

Resurrected lines:

“I… am grateful.”

“Coming back from the other side. Is this what “immortality” feels like?”

“Even Death can’t claim me.”

Dismissal lines:

“Not like it was my idea to hang out.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Take care, Commander.”

Planet-Specific lines:

[Korriban] “Ever wanted to set up a tomb here? I know I do. With the booby traps, horror interior and a useless relic in the end. Planned to continue the tradition, given how many ancient builds are ruined and their ghosts spoiled with so many intruders.”

[Drodmund Kaas] “Why are we here again? Make this quick. I really can’t afford to stay here for long.”

[Nar Shadaa] “Ah, yes. The underbelly of the Galaxy. The heart of Hutt Space. I really should visit my personal cult.”

[Taris] “Why are there people here? Why is Republic still present here? No wonder there are outbreaks of the rakghoul plague across the Galaxy.”

[Tatooine] “What’s the chance of finding another world-ending machine?.. I’m just saying.”

[Alderaan] “This is a nice place. Can we make it ours? A vacation planet, specifically for your Alliance. Not like it benefits from the war much.”

[Hoth] “No, I understand, the conquest of the Sith, the freedom of Republic, all of that. Still, what possessed them to take Hoth from the Chiss? And no, dead ancient Sith Lords is not the answer.”

[Belsavis] “The dirty secret of the Republic. You never know what lies hidden behind these walls.”

[Vos] “*hums a calming melody* ...What?”

[Corellia] “I’m not conquering the planet again. Not after the last time, when they lost it right after I left. Can you imagine that?”

[Coruscant] “...I never thought I’d see Coruscant in person. The Republic Center… It’s too perfect to be like this. How deep does the wealth and luxury spreads?”

[Illum] “Never ever agree to help local military outposts with their “minor” problems. No, I will not elaborate. Not now at least.”

[rainofaugustsith]

After reading some of the datamining for 6.3 I have one thing to say: we reap what we sow. Spoilers for who is (and who is not) datamined to be in 6.3; nothing about story.

None of the KOTFE companions or class companions appear to be involved in any way in 6.3. We reap what we sow. 

*slow clap* I guess the devs listened to those who were crying because Lana Beniko had OMG SCREEN TIME in Echoes of Vengeance that was comparable in terms of length and number of lines to roughly six other characters, depending on who you left alive. Everyone had to deal with Arcann and Senya regardless if they were alive or dead; everyone had to deal with Kira and Scourge; everyone had to either deal with Theron or listen to Satele bellyache about him. But obviously Lana OH NOES. 

Let's not forget all of those wailing that Lana and Theron should have exactly the same screen time. And those gnashing their teeth because KOTFE-era companions in general have still been in the game. 

Well, the devs have made everything equal for you. All of the KOTFE-era companions and class companions have equal screen time in 6.3: zero. 

And since so many people clamored for kill options for so many characters and the devs don't have a lot left to work with, our quest about Force-related matters and the factions is now apparently being given by Hylo - the smuggler running the underworld department of the Alliance. Which makes absolutely perfect sense, right?

We reap what we sow. 

I'm guessing that Echoes was the last hurrah for any and all of the class story or KOTFE companions having any actual stake in anything happening in the story. Unless they're going to come back momentarily to potentially be killed off, like Theran Cedrax was, and like Zenith is shaping up to be. If we're lucky, maybe they'll give small scenes with the older companions now and then. Maybe one will show up for a second in content if they are still alive. Maybe a hug or kiss at the end of a mission, which of course people will still find a reason to howl endlessly about. But I'm guessing they are all pretty much done.

You didn't want to deal with certain companions? Cool. They'll just give you an endless succession of unfamiliar NPCs to work with now. Have fun trying to do all those level 75 flashpoints with a level 1 companion you don't even recognize. You screamed because God forbid anyone other than your fantasy husband got some romance content? Bam, nobody gets it now. I'm sure we all agree that's better. 

Oh, I'm sure some people will be happy because Darth Rivix and Arn will be there, but it's only a matter of time before they're on the chopping block too. That's now the status quo. Hell, they're already setting the table for Arn to do a Vader and flip to some unhinged DS villain that both Republic and Imperial players may wish to neutralize; they already gave him his Tusken Village Massacre. 

We reap what we sow. I sure hope that eliminating all the companions that had any deep connection to the player character was worth it. Enjoy. 

[rangerslayer-97]

SWTOR: Enter the Third Sibling

For context since this is set in Violcrik's SWTOR universe, Smuggler Alexest or Alex is Violcrik's twin and Bounty Hunter Kateake or Kat is their half-sister.

~~~~~

*Alliance HQ, Odessen*

Hylo: Hey, Commander! I found a new recruit that was sitting in my contacts.

Violcrik: Really? For the Underworld department?

Lana: Well this is interesting. More help the better.

Hylo: Yeah, left a lengthy message complaining how the Eternal Empire made smuggling more difficult. However, trust me, she's the best in the galaxy. The famed smuggler who found Nok Drayven's treasure!

Lana: Impressive. That was supposed to be lost forever.

Kateake suddenly enters the room.

Kateake: What did I miss?

Violcrik: Nothing much, sis. We have a new recruit :)

Lana: I still can't get used to how similar you two are *facepalms*

Hylo: Don't be like that, Lana. It's great to know the Commander has family. Let's hit it, our contact has already landed and waiting in the cantina.

Kateake: Guess I'll tag along so.

Violcrik: Preferably. Lana still hasn't recovered after catching you and Torian in the closet our all places!

Lana: 0_0

Kateake: We said sorry!

Violcrik: I'm too young and busy to be an aunt XD

Kateake: Don't make me shoot you -_-

*Alliance Cantina, Odessen*

Lana: Over there, at the bar counter.

????: Corellian Whiskey on the rocks!

Violcrik: She has a rough accent of a smuggler alright.

Hylo: Hey! Alexest, right? Finder of Nok Drayven's treasure?

Alexest turns to face the group.

Alexest: Got it all in one and- woah! 0_0

Violcrik: 0_0

Lana: Um... Commander... she looks... very-

Kateake: Almost a lookalike 0_0

Hylo: I'm starting to become convinced you're all cloned <.<

Alexest: Who are you calling clone!? I'm as real as you are!

Lana: I'm coming to a quick conclusion, but I need to check. Give me five *runs off*

Violcrik, Kateake & Alexest: ... ... ...

Hylo: This is awkward. You're not triplets are you?

*Sometime Later*

Lana: I'm... I can't... this DNA test...

Violcrik: I'm just as surprised as you are <.<

Alexest: Well who would have thought?

Kateake: It explains why you two are literally carbon copies of one another.

Hylo: I can't believe the Commander has a twin! An identical twin!

Kateake: At least the bonus is... Violcrik has a scar. No way to mix them up! Unless their backs are turned.

Lana: 0_0

Violcrik: Lana? Are you OK? <.<

Lana: Excuse me :)

Lana leaves the cantina. Outside, all the gang hear is horrified screaming and lightning discharges.

Violcrik, Alexest, Kateake & Hylo: 0_0

Lana: *walks back in* You three better behave yourselves! It's bad enough keeping the Commander alive, because she's an idiot, but also reigning in her idiotic sister, who can't keep her hands off Torian! >:(

Kateake: Oy! I'm offended!

Violcrik: I don't have jaro! Most of the time... ... ... <.<

Kateake: Picking up the Mando off me, sis?

Lana: *points to Alex* And you-

Alexest: Well, hello there. How about I buy a drink for a beautiful woman like you? 😏

Lana: 😳

Violcrik: A flustered Lana Beniko, never thought I'd see the day XD

Kateake: Same XD

Hylo: ... ... ...

Lana: Forget the Force... I need a strong drink -_-

[keldae]

Interception

Theron might not have been a Jedi, or able to use the Force, but that didn't mean he hadn't learned to listen to his instincts. His gut intuition had gotten him both into and out of trouble countless times during his career in espionage.

And right now, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

You're paranoid, he thought, shaking his head sternly, shivering involuntarily as the cool breeze tickled his exposed scalp. You know it's Gemini stalking you as per usual. He turned a corner into an alley -- a shortcut to his current bolthole. Or Atrius is watching. Keep your cover, don't let them know you're onto them…

He habitually turned his head, scanning the few seedy characters of the underworld of Mek-Sha as they passed the front of the alley. Nobody giving him a second look, nobody looking like they were hunting the Alliance's Most Wanted. Just criminals and gangsters and refugees, trodding along the planks, all but invisible in the dim, soggy lighting.

Theron shook his head again as a hooded figure walked past the alley. Probably one of the creepy slaver cult that operated here. If he survived this, he would have to tell Sorand about this so the former Sith could deal with the slavers that he despised so -- no, don't think ahead. Sorand is more likely to kill you himself. He sighed and stepped back into the alley. He was pretty sure Xaja's youngest brother, essentially the Acting Commander from what he heard, had no idea about this plot. And the idea of being on the shitlist of a Dark Lord of the Sith and former member of the Dark Council was almost as terrifying as an idea as being on the shitlist of Imperial Intelligence’s most notorious field agent.

She wouldn't send her father after me, right? Lana would veto that. Theron shuddered, refusing to admit how much the prospect of being hunted by Cipher Nine scared him. It was bad enough that Shara was hunting him -- rumour had it the Champion of the Great Hunt had taken on the contract for him for free, as a favour to her sister-in-law (with much angry snarling about honour and cowardice and how Theron had plenty of one and not nearly enough of the other, according to Korin’s updates). As long as she doesn't get a trace on you, you'll be fine. Right?

The lights in the alley surged with brightness for a second before falling dark, leaving Theron momentarily blinded. He was already ducking and moving, relying on his memory to navigate the cluttered alley, every instinct screaming at him to run. The power surge was too targeted to be a fluke, and the sound of a ventilation shaft falling open with a deafening hiss was too coincidental. He was--

A hand roughly grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. Theron grunted in discomfort and drove his heel down, barely catching the side of his assailant's boot, and not throwing off his attacker’s stride in the least, by the feel of it. He felt himself being yanked backward, deeper into the alley shadows; he threw his body weight back, for a second surprising his attacker. It bought him enough time to yank his arm free and turn around, but before he could reach for a blaster or bring his bracer up to fire a toxin dart, he grunted again as he felt his attacker -- humanoid male, he guessed -- land a solid off-hand punch to his midsection, winding him and throwing him off balance. The sharp edge of a crate dug into Theron's back as he was shoved backward by his attacker, his wrist caught in a durasteel grip that prevented him from fighting back. He heard the soft shhhk of a knife being quickly drawn, and was forced to stop trying to fight his way free when he felt the sharp edge against his throat, his heart pounding with barely suppressed fear. Weren't spies supposed to be better at managing their fear and ambushes than this?

His stomach turned to lead when he heard his attacker's low, furious growl. "You have thirty seconds to convince me to not skin you alive, kid." Cipher Nine apparently had decided to track the rogue spy himself, and Theron's mind decided now was a good moment to helpfully remind him of the old man's reputation as a sociopath with a vicious streak a parsec wide. And he was pretty sure the fact that he was the old spy's son-in-law was negated by the fact that he had publicly tried to kill his precious daughter.

Theron grunted in discomfort as he felt Reanden press the knife tighter against his throat. "It was necessary," he whispered, inwardly cringing at how lame his excuse sounded. "Can't say more. Ears."

"One of which you're about to lose," Reanden snarled. Theron could just see the glint of rage in the old man's eyes under his hood. Shit, he’d really overdone it if the older spy was this furious. "Surveillance systems are knocked out for another minute. That's more than enough time for me to make you unidentifiable."

Theron had no doubt the Imperial legend could make him disappear with ease, and tried to not think about the sharp edge of the knife scraping his throat. Wait, if the surveillance systems were disabled… He could only hope Gemini was blind right now. "... How disabled?" he lowly whispered.

"Dead silence for anyone trying to listen." There was definitely a bit of unnecessary emphasis on 'dead', in Theron's opinion.

But he didn't exactly have room or time to voice that opinion. And if Reanden hadn't killed him yet… "Order of Zildrog," he quickly whispered. “They’re working on a plan to kill her, I don't know the details yet. Ask Arcann what he remembers about Vinn Atrius."

"Vinn Atrius…" Reanden lowly muttered the name as he seemed to mentally file the name away. "You've kept your ear, not sure about your hide yet--"

"Say nothing in front of Gemini Prime," Theron urgently hissed. "They know everything." From how Reanden tensed, he guessed that wasn't a threat the old man had considered. "They're tracking her."

"That so?" For a second, Reanden seemed to think about this new information before Theron heard his low growl again. "Thirty seconds are up, kid."

The knife moved from Theron's throat as the hand holding his wrist immobile loosened a smidge. Theron took immediate advantage and twisted his arm sharply, freeing himself to punch the older spy in the side even while ducking away from the sharp blade. He heard Reanden grunt as the old man was knocked off-balance, and felt the prick of the knife on his temple, but didn't pause long enough to hope this blade wasn't poisoned. His only priority was slipping out of the old man's hold and fleeing down the alley, finally drawing his blaster and blindly firing a warning shot behind him. 

He flinched at a return shot whizzing past his ear and hitting the corner of an abandoned storage bay, sparks flying from the impact. But, when he finally made it back to his safehouse, breathing hard and paranoidly looking over his shoulder, there was no sign of Cipher Nine pursuing him. For a second, Theron let himself hope he'd given the old man the slip, and the former Imperial asset hadn't just flipped on his stealth generator to stalk him from the shadows.

Either way, the situation was more perilous. Mek-Sha was compromised. Theron couldn't linger here -- even if the old man didn't come after him directly, it wouldn't be hard for him to get Shara on the asteroid for the hunt, or an Alliance strike team, or even Xaja herself. And Theron knew he couldn't make himself walk away from Xaja again, not after that glimpse of her on Copero. He had to keep moving.

Hope Nine didn't manage to plant a tracker, he grumbled to himself as he swept everything connected to him out of the cramped room he had called a safehouse and made his escape to the docks. The sooner he was in his shuttle and fleeing into the Unknown Regions, the better.

He had to have believed you, he tried to reassure himself as he slipped away into the shadows, flinching at every little noise that he could hear over the sound of his racing heart. Otherwise he wouldn't have missed with that shot, or let you escape. Right?...

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

From the shadow cast by a hanging tarp, Reanden watched as his target hurried toward the shuttles, looking terrified despite his best efforts. For a moment, the old spy allowed himself a little smirk: still got it. That reputation he'd built of being a sociopath had taken years to establish -- be a pity to have it wasted on this asshole.

The smirk vanished as he thought about Theron's whispered message. Assuming it was all truth from the younger man, this was some good intel -- and Reanden figured he’d been in the spy business long enough to identify lies and truth. The Order of Zildrog… yes, he'd heard that before. Hylo had managed to intercept a transmission, from Theron himself, mentioning that group. A cult, if he was going to be accurate -- the little bits of intel he'd managed to pull up on them had indicated fanaticism, both in the idolatry of Valkorion's shadow, and a fierce hatred of Xaja and the Alliance. This was confirmation that they were enough to be a serious threat, if Theron was this deeply involved. Infiltration? Investigation? Reanden wasn't sure yet what his son-in-law was up to. But now he had a name to look into -- maybe one of the ringleaders. From the sounds of it, Vinn Atrius had to be Zakuulan -- a former guard for Arcann or Vaylin, or Valkorion himself? Were they behind all the anti-Alliance uprisings that had occurred over the past year or so?

The warning about Gemini Prime made him frown. The droid template had been nonresponsive for months now; it had been assumed that she might have been entirely dead. Reanden felt like kicking himself -- why hadn’t he considered sooner that the droid was a security risk? Had the Order managed to slice into the Gemini systems and pick up intel from there? But how would they have gotten access, with all of the Eternal Fleet currently stationed around Odessen? Maybe they had found something on Iokath? Or maybe there were still ships unaccounted for?

This was giving him a headache. He scowled as Theron's nondescript shuttle fled the docks, hoping the younger spy didn't find the tracker he'd hidden on the vessel earlier; rubbing the bruise over his ribs, he slunk away into the shadows again, mind racing. First order of business was messaging both Korin and Shara to tell them to drop the hunt on this little asteroid, now that their target had escaped. After that, he needed to get back to Odessen and give Xaja this information… and hope his daughter forgave him for not dragging her wayward husband back. If he is infiltrating, capture will get him killed by the cult. Watch and listen. He'll come back up again. His gut instinct was insistent that Theron wasn't legitimately seeking Xaja's death, and so far, his instincts hadn't been wrong before. 

He only hoped he wasn’t going to be proven wrong this time.

[yourplayersaidwhat]

The party is on a planet, and instead of actually doing their job, they come across a lake. Two of them roll low as hell on perception, and decide to jump in. They call for another party member (Hylo) to join, but he doesn’t, and walks off a little. The last member of the party, Jody, is also being called, and she rolls an 18 and sees that the lake is full of dead bodies. And she notices that some of them, ever so slightly, are moving. Everyone starts screaming, and then this happens:

Jody: Oh my god, guys get out of there!

DM: Alright, Gwen and Yrt (the two in the lake), what are you going to do?

Gwen leaves, but Yrt, already confused from a previous misadventure, rolls perception and gets and 18.

DM: You notice a sign, that says “This lake is cursed don’t go swimming in it”

Everyone: *screams*

Yrt ((ooc)): YRT CANT READ HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW

[pineaberry]

Fictober 2019: #9

STARRING: Malavai Quinn, Sana Rae, and Pierce Cameo

For @sunsetofdoom who inspired this and @fluffynexu my newest foodie friend!

________________________

Odessen was a temperate planet. Granted there were extremes at the poles and a few smatterings of deserts and savannas but for the most part, the temperature was cool and dry especially around the Alliance’s mountain base. For Malavai -accustomed to the humidity of Dromund Kaas and muggy basins on Balmorra- the climate required a thicker set of underclothes but it was perhaps the first time he found his full military attire to be comfortable. It was a feeling he knew was shared by the vast majority of Imperial personnel on the base. Even so, occasionally they would spot an Ortolan or Kaleesh alliance member parading around half-naked and complaining about the heat. He supposed Oddessen’s cool breezes could feel searing to a creature accustomed to icy the hells of Hoth and Illum.

Regardless, Odessen and all its quirks felt different. After surviving -and recruiting- Arcann, after toppling Vaylin, after overcoming Zildrog and their ilk… Odessen now felt like home. Malavai ruminated on the fact every morning as he prepared himself for the day. Unlike the Imperial Fleet or even Dromund Kaas, there was an ease to every member that was not defined by social protocol or rank. They had all adapted, shifted and coalesced into something greater than its parts.

He sat in the mess hall every morning surrounded by people he would have considered filth and scoundrels less than a year ago. It felt almost a lifetime had passed since he’d railed against the spectre of the Republic. The initial faction wars now seemed so petty and pointless in the grand scheme of things. Trust and peace was achievable. Just this morning he’d shared his schematics with a Jedi Consular who provided input and suggested improvements on his designs.

Perhaps he was simply biased in favor of the Alliance considering he was married to the commander but even after joining with the Empire on Ossus once more, he couldn’t imagine falling back into his previous existence.

While still occasionally fraught with peril, his life had now at long last settled into a comfortable existence. A peace he had never known before had come to settle over him. In between caring for his wife and managing her alliance, Malavai found he had plenty of time to nurture his mental health. 

That was always an odd phrase to hear. Mental health.

The Empire could boast top hospitals and the latest in surgical technology, but unless someone had a concussion Malavai had never considered the mind as anything requiring treatment. It was certainly a perk if one could acquire such a thing, but more often than naught, psychiatric help in the field came in the form of telling a soldier to grow some balls before pumping them full of stims and sending them back into the fray.

The Empire was sustained by loyalty and duty, but much of the time that meant loyalty and duty to the Sith not the other way ‘round. There were rare cases to be sure, but for the most part, Imperials were second class citizens. His mental state never would have mattered. It hadn’t mattered for a very long time. Like most he self-medicated with alcohol or stims or even crude blends of Spice when there was nothing else available. He hadn’t mattered, not until…

Malavai’s brow furrowed as he stared at his datapad.

Until Lord Tremas had found him on Balmorra. From that moment on he’d started to be significant. After she came into his life no one could touch him, not generals, not moffs, not even Sith. He was more important than any of them because she willed it so and with it, his mind and troubled thoughts became important too. All of a sudden he became aware of things such as psychological conditions and traumas. The blinders he’d operated under fell away and he could understand as the Sith healers understood. Imperials were purposely kept in the dark but Sith… Sith healers understood the mind better than any Jedi.

And so the phrase mental health became a part of his vernacular. He learned to understand it, not as the weakness it was proclaimed to be within the barracks, but as a part of a soldier’s medical condition. A clean bill of health had so much more meaning now. So it was that at the insistence of his Sith healer, Malavai acquired a hobby meant to relax him.

“Major Quinn, I have acquired the plants I had suggested for your garden.”

Malavai’s gaze flickered up to see Sana-Rae and a Mirialan Jedi padawan taking a seat next to him. A few years ago, such an action would have brought him to the brink of violence. Now, he was willing to hold polite conversation.

“The Odessen climate is nearly identical to my own home planet of Voss. I had one of Hylo’s pilots make a stop to pick up a few crates of bulbs.”

“Makin’ a pretty flower garden, Quinn?” Pierce teased as he sauntered in.

“You have my thanks. I’ve been having minimal success with local flora, but I’m having trouble with Grand Moff Vaiken,” Malavai ignored the jibe before switching screens on his datapad and showing the results to Sana-Rae.

Pierce’s brow furrowed as the words Malavai had spoken made absolutely no sense.

“Perhaps the sunlight is inadequate,” the padawan suggested.

“I don’t believe so, Grand Moff Kilran nearly died from heat over exposure, but General Hesker is stable and they’ve begun to build nurseries,” Malavai zoomed in on a picture on his datapad.

By that time, a collection of Imperial alliance members had begun to gather round and make a large fuss about eating breakfast and not eavesdropping.

“Oh is that jar all you could get out of General Hesker?” the padawan asked and there was a moment of stunned silence as the table stared at a jar in the middle of the table the contents of which they had all slathered on their morning toast.

“I’m reticent to take any more, the consequences could be lethal.”

“I am sure a little more will not hurt, I would like to have some for my apothecary if you can spare it,” Sana Rae mused.

“Well it’s not like I can milk it out of-”

There was a clatter of silverware and the trio looked up to see a silently horrified group of Imperials promptly get up and very professionally incinerate their breakfast. Only Pierce remained glaring at his morning mush as though expecting an explanation to be forthcoming. He was not disappointed.

“What’s gotten into them?” the padawan asked.

“Perhaps they do not like Odessen honey,” Sana Rae replied patiently though she was equally confused.

“There is a certain taste to it,” Malavai agreed without looking up.

He zoomed out of the image in his datapad to reveal a photo of a flower garden. In the middle were three beehives, their names painted in gold lettering: The Voidstar, The Scream of Ragnos, and The Maelstrom. Next to the image was a smaller more intricate diagram of a queen bee captioned simply as “Grand Moff Vaiken”.

________________________

Original Fictober Promp List HERE!

[swtor-legacy-sitcom]

In Conclusion: Kriff the Hutt Cartel, and the Casino You Rode In On

La’Wrathe: Fuck The Cartel.

Mako: I hate this planet. why are we here. Better Question what... Why are you dressed like a Spice Dealer? better Question, why am I dressed like... well, I look pretty, but this ‘Nightlife’ outfit has way more sideboob and thigh than i care for.

La’Wrathe: *Glances*. uh... topical... dress for the event. I guess. *glances* GODDAMN KINGPIN MACHINE

Mako: Don’t use the flamethrower. We’ll get kicked out, and as much as I want an excuse never to come back to Nar Shaddaa... Ok. You just used the flamethrower.

La’Wrathe: you play it if you’re so smart.

Mako: *shrugs Wins jackpot first try* Great. now we have a rancor to feed. Can we go home now?

Jatek’ara Renegin: MY NaMeSaKe is FAiLEr LIESSS

Phrojo Nuray: You’re looking pretty Lucky to me boss

Jate’kara Renegin: I have one less complaint.

Thoth: I WON him you idiot! And sent it to your pirate/smuggler/mandalorian ass! I hate convoluted backstories. EMPERORS BONES.

Jetakara Renigan: A WIN IS STILL A WIN

Amun Raa: Why do you even gamble Aunt Thoth?

Thoth: for the same reason your wife does. Sith can cheat.

Gault: *snickers*. Yeah. How’s that working for ya Lana? Ok guys, deal me in. Sabbacc is like Pazaak right? Just has more suits to the cards? Hope the wife doesn’t know I’m here. lost the speeder last time.

Hylo Visz: Place your bets Gentlemen, eyes on the.... Gault?

Gault: I love you, and I’m saying that not just to get out of trouble but because we both had the same idea, firstly. Secondly... if you’re here, I can’t get into too much trouble right?

*La’Wrathe and Hylo exhange looks*

Gault: I DON’T NEED A THIRD CHAPERONE :(

Lana: On that note... Look. a sith has a certain natural... precognittive ability. I can’t help it, or that... filthy filthy trick you played.

Gault: uh huh. still lost when we played cards :) .... ooh bad luck chum. strange, I usually have awful luck like last round. is it... my turn to deal? What direction do i go in?

*La’Wrathe and Hylo exhange looks*

Amun Raa: yes... where you sent dirty mental images. to my wife. remind me why i haven’t... I sense... a disturbance

Lana: Yes.... As though the anguish of a thousand lost souls in customer service screamed out in torment as the source of their pain manifested in one already wretched avatar of filth, and garbage.

Azul’de: GIradDa yOu Fat FuCk i WoRk HeRe WhY cAn’T I wIn sHit??!

Lana: Ah.

Amun Raa: MOM STOP BEING A KAREN.

Azul’de: ThE HoUse AlwAYs WiNS. I wORk foR you BaSTaRds. DOn’t YoU gIvE me THaT “EMpLoYeE ExeMpT” BaNtHa poOdOO!

Black Stache strides in with Gamoriean Guard: and kingpin outfit: HELLO NAR SHADDDAA. oh. Wrong Casino... see yeah

Gamorian: *pig noises*

La’Wrathe: How?!

Black Stache: save the golden tickets big bro. you never know. could win a spice factory one day *winks*. Are these things still broken? *slaps Emperor Machine*. Yup. Still broken. and we have two days left of the event.

La’Wrathe: The Goddamn RAKGHOULS are literally not as bad.

Amun Raa: tell me about it.

Mako: ugh. lets not even start with raghouls. I hate rakghouls

Lana: Yes. we’re all not immune to the plague.

La’Wrathe: whaa...?

Lana: I have files on EVERYONE. commander. and EVERYTHING. 

Mako and Lawrathe: .....

La’Wrathe: Oh look. i won my namesake the Wraith speeder. the most basic drop. WHICH I ALREADY HAVE

Black Stache: who DOESN’T have that speeder. DAMN what a waste.  I want my magnus and my rancor damnit.

Azul’de: I WaNt To SPEak To YoUr GrANd MogHuL 

Amun Raa: MOM.

Gault: Hylo honey it’s time to go. SEE YOU ON TATOOINE WRATHE. we’re going to Odesson. go. go. go.

[storyknitter]

Café Noir

Read on AO3

Sanna glanced around, surveying the mechanical world of Iokath. Something was wrong – the layout, the sky perhaps – but she couldn’t place it. Drawing her sabers, she adjusted their comforting weight in her palms.

She shouldn’t be here alone.

Turning the corner, she found herself in a maze of mirrors and thrones. Echoes of voices swam around her, too indistinct to understand. As she inspected the mirrored hallways, searching for a way out, she noticed something odd – she was changing, growing older. Her hair slowly faded to white, the violet of her eyes shifting to a golden brown.

The indistinct voices began to clear and Theron’s cut through all the others, filled with concern. Time’s running out. Hurry!

Another step brought her to the foot of the largest throne she’d seen. A chill ran through her as she realized it didn’t belong on Iokath: the last time she’d seen this throne was on the Emperor’s Fortress.

YOU WERE LURED HERE.

Panic choked her and she spun around, desperate to leave the cursed seat behind, only to come face-to-face with her aging self in another mirror. It went on for what seemed like an eternity, and Sanna’s sabers fell to the ground in her attempt to find a break in the glass or some escape from this hell.

Only a handful of people could get close enough to sabotage the throne.

Wait. Is that what Theron meant for her to do? Oh stars, she wanted nothing to do with Vitiate’s throne, even if to destroy it.

Take a seat, then hope for the best.

She breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She could do this. She must do this, her people were depending on her.

Hope for the best...

Vassanna climbed the steps slowly, dread filling her heart, her mind. She felt like a nerf led to slaughter.

YOU DID NOT SEE THE BLADE TO YOUR NECK.

Whipping her head around, she scoured the room for someone, anyone who could help her. She wanted to leave this place and never think about it again, but she was trapped.

Hope for the best...

Theron’s warm presence in the back of her head eased her fears and she approached the throne again, turning to sit with one deep, steadying breath. Numbness crept into her heavy limbs and her chest as she leaned back in the chair and Theron’s voice, cruel and heartless, hissed in her ear.

You’ve become like him. You’re a benevolent dictator now, right?

What? No, absolutely not. No, she swore she was only doing this to save– Sanna froze, seeing her reflection in the mirror again. No... no, it couldn’t be.

Valkorion’s reflection stared back at her, an arrogant, victorious smirk on his lips.

YOU ARE BETRAYED.

Pain seared its way through her body, starting at her neck and radiating outward. A scream of anguish clawed at her throat as Vitiate’s laughter vibrated through her entire being...

Vassanna jolted upright, tumbling out of the desk chair to the floor in a daze, and a datapad clattered to the floor next to her. “A dream,” she mumbled, rubbing at a crick in her neck. “It was only a dream.” Scrambling to her feet, Sanna took huge, gulping breaths of recycled air to soothe her frayed nerves. “Fine,” she said to herself as she paced. “Fine, Lana wins. I'll go see the doc about sleeping pills. Stars, I can't keep doing this.” Had it been four or five nights since she’d last slept? Meditation could only take her so far – hadn’t she learned that lesson after Rishi?

Smoothing a trembling hand over her hair, she winced as her shoulder twinged in protest. Irritation blossomed in her chest: it had been weeks since Umbara, when her jump out of that Force-forsaken train went awry, saddling her with a dislocated shoulder, among other injuries. So much time had been wasted floating in kolto, yet this stubborn joint refused to completely heal.

A knock at the door startled Sanna, sending the datapad she’d just retrieved crashing back to the floor. Unimpressed with the report she’d fallen asleep reading, she left the offensive pad where it lay.

“What a kriffing day,” she muttered with a sigh as she crossed to answer the knocking. “At least it can’t get any worse.”

The cheerful face of Hylo Visz greeted her as the heavy door to Vassanna’s quarters slid open. “Hey, Commander. I know you’ve been busy, so I thought I’d drop by to refill your stash of Spiran caf beans.”

She reached out instinctively with a smile to accept the brown paper package from her supply specialist. “Thank you Hylo, but this isn’t necessary. I still have over half of the last bag.”

Understanding struck both women simultaneously: one person tends to drink about half as much caf as two people would.

Sanna pulled her hands back to herself, clenched into fists, and swallowed hard. “As always, I appreciate the effort and credits that went into acquiring these beans for me. Perhaps we can slow the delivery rate going forward?” She couldn’t face the pity in Hylo’s eyes and the older woman tucked the bag under her arm.

“‘Course, Commander. If you don’t mind, I’ll pass these on to the commissary – I’d hate for them to go stale.”

“Absolutely. It would be a shame for such good caf to go to waste. Thank you again.”

With a jaunty salute that was somehow both irreverent and endearing, Hylo ambled off towards the cafe. Thinking fondly of her cousin, Sanna wondered if all spacers learned that salute when they acquired their first ship.

Leaning back into the now-closed door, she slid to the floor, knees tucked to her chest. She wanted to weep, to scream and shout, to break things, but couldn't summon the energy to hold on to any emotion longer than a brief moment. Everything was drowned out, smothered by a heavy nothingness in the pit of her stomach that never went away. This couldn’t possibly be what the Code was talking about, could it? There was no peace to be found in this lack of feeling. It had been six weeks already – nearly an entire month, for kriff's sake – since he'd... left. It still hurt to breathe sometimes, thinking about him, what he’d done and said. When would this get easier? It had to get easier, right? Oh Force, please let it get easier.

[lyrishadow]

prompt: How can I trust you?

I confess I had a little fun with this, it seemed too serious a topic with a lot of open doors to angst. So here. Have some fluff. Fictober prompt: How can I trust you? More under the link. 

How Can I Trust You? (To behave yourselves?)

Minutes passed in silence as Ly‘rae stood at the head of the meeting table, staring them all down in turn.

“How can I trust you? What were you thinking?” She lifted a report from the pile.

“I need answers here...I've been working my butt off trying to hold this Alliance together, trying to be functional and I hear about this.”

Like children who have been caught, Lana, Theron, Koth, Senya,. Aric and Kaleyo stared at the table studiously.

“Theron?” Ly'rae asked the former SiS spy, who she thought would do better at not laughing at her attempt to bring some order to the group.

“Ah…” Theron glanced down, failing in his attempt to keep a straight face. Meanwhile, Aric hid a laugh behind his hand.

“Don't look too smug Aric, I heard you literally egged it on.”

“Aren't you overreacting?” Koth offered “It was only a food fight..”

“Lana, maybe you could explain to Koth how fragile things are between Republic and Imperial; and that cutlery is not food …”

“Who wrote the report?” Senya asked, doing her best to look innocent.

“Dr Oggorub. Apparently, you got food on a piece of data he was calculating.”

“ I have told him not to bring work to lunch,” Theron responded making the others give him a stare because he was always bringing his work with him.

“You threw a piece of banthar burger at him.”

“So?”

“You left your fork in it.”

“He threw it back to me…”

“Where it didn't reach you because it hit Koth…”

Koth shook his head “Actually it hit Tora I just caught it…”

“And Tora is?”

“In the infirmary getting stitches.” Kalyeo added, “Should be a wicked scar.”

“You,” Ly'rae turned to Senya  “Could have stopped it but no, you threw a cream pie at Koth…”

“ At least I removed the fork.” Senya struggled to maintain a pious look.

“Yes, I suppose at least you took out the fork.” Ly shook her head glancing down at the report. “So who decided to dump a glass of Banther milk over Hylo?”

They all looked at Kalyeo.

“What? Len dared me…” she folded her arms defensively “How was I to know that Nico was so precious about his hat.”

“So Nico threw the umbrella from his drink at you…”

“He has really got damn good aim too.” She showed a series of pinpricks on her arm, obviously, Nico had a few of those little umbrellas in a coat pocket.

“At what point did you decide to stop giving it back to him and hand him a jug of cutlery?”

“I...He…it was Lana... “

“Lana?” Ly’rae turned to the Sith Lord who was doing her best not to laugh at the situation.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” She replied somehow managing to keep her face straight.

Ly’rae looked up to see Torian by the door, his lips twitched as he heard the account of the food fight.

“How does handing someone cutlery seem like a good idea?” Ly asked exasperatedly.

“Well… “ Lana coughed and tried to duck the question, “I thought it might… distract him…”

“Well, it worked, because next thing on Ogorubs report is how Treek managed to steal them and proceed to fortify herself under a table.”

“Yeah well, then it became about getting her out of there…” Theron butted in quickly “You know..”

“Yes. I know. A can of cream, several rolls of paper and then suddenly you are all… pirates?”

“Yarrrr…” Koth lost it when Lana responded. Holding his sides he bent over.

“Enough out of you Koth, you were the ringleader of the next stage of the food fight….” Ly kept reading, honestly when she had gotten the report she had thought Oggorub had been kidding, that it was an elaborate joke, but she saw Tora in the infirmary with a nasty looking fork-shaped gash and decided it was an accurate rendition.

“Slippery slides in the cantina?” she read on “Using the doctor's coat.”

Koth stopped laughing long enough to giggle out a reply.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” with one look at Lana he went back to laughing.

“Remind me again, what is it we are doing here?”

“Saving the galaxy,” Theron replied smoothly.

“Right…. So Aric, can you tell me how come you screamed ‘For the Republic’ before throwing a tomato at Bey’wan?”

“Honestly, I did not know he was allergic,” Aric replied. “I actually feel bad about that.”

“You should, he has hives now.” she shook her head again, honestly if she could just laugh at them it would be better, but no she had to behave like the one in charge. Also, she had a note from the barman in the cantina, requesting monetary assistance to repair the damage they caused and to replace missing cutlery. No, they were not going to get off with a shrug over this.

“And who was it that sent a runner to Sana Rae asking for her to meditate on the food fight to see who would win?”

Theron looked incredibly guilty.

“What? It seemed like a good…” “Theron.” Ly interrupted “So help me if you say it seemed like a good idea at the time, I am going to invent punishments here.”

“So now that all four of our alliance specialists have been put out over this… explain to me again who started the food fight?”

“Dr Oggorub started it.” Aric leant forward “Almost guarantee this wasn't in his report.”

“How exactly did he start the food fight?”

“He threw a hard-boiled egg at Theron, to get him to shut up.” Kalyo responded, “Seriously, Theron, how many times a day do we have to hear that status report.”

“I see.” Ly sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. They were going to either make her grey from all the stress they caused or make laugh at the insanity. Either way, it meant a headache at the end of the day. “So how did it end?”

“Well…” Theron looked at Lana who looked at Senya.

“Fine.” Senya sighed “I heard your ship returning... And told them…”

“So you all scrambled to hide this?”

“Not really…” Theron replied, “We sort of had fun?”

“No, I didn't think you could hide the dozen or so broken plates, towers of cutlery and holes int he chairs.” The list was from the Cantina requisition “Just lucky I didn’t go there after I got back. As for fun… can you please be less destructive about it? As it is…” she drew a deep breath as she handed out a sheet of paper. “This is your cleaning roster for the next month - including giving Seetwo and Twovee a rest by doing the dishes.”

“But…” the objections began overlapping each other until Koth exclaimed “But MOM!”

“Was that louder for a reason Koth?”

“Um….. no… I really didn’t plan for anyone to hear it….except maybe Lana… or Theron.” Lana was giggling.

“ Well …  try and consider the chores as a bonding exercise.”  Ly’rtae smiled a perfect smile. As Torian snorted from near the doorway.

“Also Koth, you and Senya are rostered together… “ she paused and waited while Koth groaned “Meeting is dismissed…!”

[sullustangin]

Home

Time: 10 ATC/3643 BBY

Rating:  PG

Word Count:  ~1200

Corso meets Eva.  And her first mate.

~~

“Hey.  Hey.  Wake up. Come on, wake up.”  

Corso felt his arm being shaken as he floated hazily back to consciousness.  He let out a low groan.

“Stay still – you got a nasty knot on the back of your head.”  He felt thin, agile fingers on his scalp.  The sensation wasn’t pleasant, but she didn’t make it hurt neither.

She?  Oh, that captain that came through, running guns.  He hadn’t taken much notice – people came and went so quickly.  

Corso tried to force his eyes open.  “Feels like a gundark used my skull as a drum.”

The low female voice let out a short chuckle.  “Yeah, nearly looks it.”

Finally, he won the war with his eyelids and –

Golly.

Didn’t hurt none that the sun was setting behind her, low in the sky but still just high enough to scrape the rooftops on Ord Mantell.  The sun burst through her dark hair, lighting it up like some ember on dark wood – real nice stuff that Corso had only seen in museums and nice houses.  She was spacer pale.  Them folk never spent enough time on planet to soak up sun, so they had this weird glow about them.  Some say it was unnatural and a side effect of all the supplements they had to take, but to Corso, as he gazed up at this awful pretty lady fussing over his head, it was more like supernatural.

Suddenly, a take-off engine roared, and she was running from him.  Girl knew her ship by ear.  “No!” he heard her scream.

Corso managed to roll himself to all fours and push up into a kneeling position to watch as the Captain charged the gangplank, which was still partially down.  Skavak must not have gotten the ship ready fast enough and only took off ‘cuz he saw her coming.  Corso saw the woman running at a damn fast clip, yelling the whole time.  Corso felt his heart stop a little bit when she leapt for  the edge of the gangplank –

And had it slip right through her hands.  Corso done reckoned she cursed as she hit the ground in a crouch –screamed it in some language he didn’t know.  From that position, the Captain raised her head up as her ship took off.

Her fingers went to her mouth and a piercing whistle shot through the air.  He thought he heard her scream “High!  Low!  High Low!”

Corso pushed himself to his feet and gingerly walked out toward her.  “Skavak can’t hear you,” he managed to call out to her.  He couldn’t be too loud because that gundark was back doing a tapdance on his eardrums.  

Another piercing whistle, and then suddenly, a grey blur shot out of the barely open ship door and launched itself squarely into her chest.  The Captain toppled back onto her ass and then let herself lie flat to the ground, clutching the projectile to her chest as she stared up at her departing ship.

“You okay, buddy?” she said when Corso came within proper earshot.

Corso came to a dead stop when he realized she wasn’t addressing him (he didn’t have a problem being called buddy, though).

The Captain had an armful of cat.

The only thing that came to his mind to say was “That’s a cat.”  It was dumb, but hell, he couldn’t think of nothing else after his bell was rung.

The Captain looked at him with those dark eyes, dark amusement shining in them.  “Uh huh.  Meet my first mate.  Hylo.” She let the cat slip out of her arms, and the grey mackerel tabby strutted a circle around her, showing off he was no worse for wear.  “I’m going to fucking kill Skavak,”

“He helped those separatists get in here.  He stabbed us in the back,” Corso agreed.

“Screw your separatists. That scum stole my ship.”  The Captain turned back toward the hangar.  “Did he --?”

“Took all the weapons too.  He and them separatists planned it all along.”

The Captain let out a massive sigh and ran her hand over her face.  “Those weren’t mine to lose.”  The cat parked himself next to her and leaned into her leg.

Corso suddenly noticed he felt lighter than usual.  “Hey… where’s Torchy?”

She looked over at him, mildly concerned.  “You got a garage cat or dog?”

“No!  Worse!  Skavak stole my blaster!” Corso felt where the heavy blaster used to rest on the top of thigh. “BlasTech ALT-25 with magnatomic adhesion grin and side-mounted rangefinder.  She’s too good for Skavak!”

The Captain looked at him and must have reckoned he was crazy.  But Corso wasn’t going to stand for this.  He yanked out his holo comm and punched what had, over the last few months, become a familiar frequent call.  

Skavak’s image flickered to life after a slight drone of static.  The formerly friendly face only made Corso’s blood boil now.  Skavak knew it.  “Aw, what’st he matter, Corso?  Did I hurt your feelings?” he taunted him. “Be thankful you’re alive, kid.”

“You’re a dead man,” the Captain snapped.  

Skavak leered at her over the comm.  Corso would have punched him if he’d been there in person, doing that to a lady.  “Plenty of women want me dead, sweetheart.  You’ll have to get in line.”  With a mock bow, he said, “On behalf of Ord Mantell’s glorious freedom fighters, I thank you for your blasters, your ship, and a big laugh. Have a nice day.”

And with that he cut the comm.

“I’ll kill him,” she repeated.  “Can’t believe I’m stuck here.”

Corso looked at her.  Nah, she didn’t belong down here on Ord.  “You got somewhere you need to be.”  That was a statement, not a question.

The Captain pushed a bunch of hair back over her ear that had fallen loose from her hair tie.  “Yeah.  Home.” She pointed in the general direction of the now-gone starship.  The Captain must have thought he was looking at her finger, but Corso was watching her face.

Her heart was done broken. He couldn’t stand that.

Corso had come home to Ord Mantell, but home wasn’t here anymore.  Dead and buried was home.  He’d sworn he’d stay here until he got rid of all the separatists, so no more boys came back but couldn’t get home.  

Captain still had a home. Even if it was half a galaxy away, it was still a lot closer to them than Corso’s.

“Captain – I’m sorry, my head got rattled.  What’s your name again?”  He ran his hand up his neck and carefully touched the knot there.

“Eva Corolastor.  And you’re Corso Riggs.  You remember what day it is?  Who’s the chancellor?”  Corso caught on quick she was teasing him, trying to distract him from the fact that she was upset and sad.

His eyes dropped down. “I think the weekend ended yesterday. Chancellor’s never come out here. But that’s Hylo the cat.  And I’m gonna do my best to get you home.”

The cat in question mreeeep’ed in approval, and he let his tail tap Corso’s shin as he sauntered toward the hangar.  The sun began its final descent on Ord Mantell.