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hearts-hunger · 4 years ago

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ciryc ca'tra (cold night sky): chapter three || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: You panic when the baby goes missing, only to find him trying to help his daddy fix the ship. You panic when the frog lady goes missing, only to find her trying to warm her eggs. You panic when there’s suddenly spiders all over the place. You’re really not having a good time on this frozen planet.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Maybe old fashioned ideas about marriage? Idk, I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to tag!

A/N: I’ve been writing this fic nonstop for the past few days and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’m thoroughly enjoying it, and I hope you are too! Also, I think it’s actually very sexy of me to post each chapter less than 24 hours apart. Enjoy! ♡

You couldn’t get back to sleep.

You tried - your whole body ached with exhaustion, and you knew you should rest - but you were too rattled by the scare with the droid and too worried about Din out in the cold. You tried to find something more productive to do than fret, but the baby had slept through everything, and there was very little to do when you weren’t chasing him around the ship. You’d already organized and cleaned everything you could; there really was nothing to do but wait.

For the sake of your sanity - and Din’s, as you knew an anxious wife was absolutely the last thing he needed right now - you decided on a shower. The refresher was outfitted with a regular shower as well as a sonic; you’d be using the latter, considering the fact that there was no heat on the Crest at the moment. Neatly folding Din’s spare cloak and putting the rest of your clothes in the laundry basket in the refresher, you stepped into the sonic and let the thing work its magic.

The state of the refresher when you’d first come aboard the Crest was... abysmal, to put it honestly. It told you all you needed to know about the Mandalorian bounty hunter you’d met when he arrived in your small town deep in the hills of Naboo: he was used to being alone, and very unfamiliar with a woman’s company. When you started working for him and living on the ship - he’d needed your help finding a man who used to live in your town - you’d asked if there was any way to at least have a door on the blasted thing. He readily complied, and with the help of a few of the handyman types in your community, the Crest’s refresher was sorted out in no time, and more elaborately than you’d hoped for.

The sonic was made to be used with or without water, and warm lights adorned the new mirror above the sink. Best of all, there was a sliding door - much like the one on the bunk, which had been expanded slightly in all the renovation. Until you were married - only a short while after you came to work for him, as you’d both fallen head over heels in a matter of weeks - Din had slept on the reclining passenger seat in the cockpit. You’d always considered that likely miserable sleeping arrangement and the new refresher his very first love-gifts to you, and you knew you would always cherish his selflessness and generosity.

Clean and a little less wired after the sonic, you quickly put on new clothes and wrapped yourself back in Din’s cloak. You went to check on the baby, sure he was still sleeping; to your dismay and instant panic, your little foundling was nowhere to be found among the blankets you’d nestled him in earlier.

“Ad’ika!” you called, searching through the ship like Din had earlier. Your little one was an escape artist, that much you’d known from the very beginning. Usually it was of little consequence - there were only so many places he could go on the ship, and you or Din found him contentedly playing with his silver ball or some other toy he’d fashioned. But here, with the temperature dropping and the wreckage everywhere and only the tarp between the ship and the icy world outside - you had to find him.

Your panic grew to a fever pitch as you searched the ship high and low, calling for him with an increasingly desperate tone. Finally, positive he wasn’t anywhere on the Crest, you ventured outside; snowdrifts piled across the rocky ground, and the air was bitterly cold. Heedless of your own safety, you searched around the wreckage of the ship, calling for him as you felt the sting of tears.

“Cyar’ika!”

You heard Din’s voice calling you from the other side of the ship, and you made your way to him as quickly as you could. Surely Din would know where your baby was, and if he didn’t, he would know where to look. As you rounded the corner, you almost couldn’t make him out as tears blurred your vision. You tried to collect yourself before you told him - what, that you’d lost your son? That you’d had one job and couldn’t even keep your toddler safe?

Your distress must have shown on your face, because Din reached a consoling hand out to you and met you halfway as you walked through the snow towards him. You prepared to tell him, to beg for his forgiveness and help -

Then, wrapped in the corner of Din’s cloak and nestled snugly in the crook of his arm, your baby peeked out at you and gave a babble of greeting.

“Oh, Maker,” you gasped, the words coming out like a sob. You reached out for him and Din gave him to you; you held him tight as tears streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you said, shoulders shaking as you tried to get a hold of yourself. You felt Din’s hand on your back, drawing you close against him; you let him hold you, the baby pressed safely between you.

“It’s ok, cyare,” Din soothed, running his hand up and down your back.

You gave a hitching breath. “It’s not ok, Din,” you insisted. “I thought he was - ”

You couldn’t make yourself say it, and felt a flash of anger at your husband that you knew was misdirected, but you didn’t know what to do with the guilt and fear that still ran through you.

“You knew where he was this whole time?” you snapped, looking up at his visor. Your tears were cold on your cheeks, and you angrily brushed them away. “How long was he out here with you, while I was worried sick looking for him?”

Din held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. “No, I didn’t know he was out here,” he said, determinedly calm and patient. “I only just found him, and I’d just finished getting onto him when I heard you calling for him. I was coming to take him to you, cyare.”

You knew he was telling you the truth - he’d never do something like that to you. You didn’t know what to say, ashamed that you’d accused him of letting you worry needlessly when he’d actually been doing all he could to prevent that.

“S-sorry,” you managed brokenly. You could see your vague reflection in the planes of his helmet, tearful and small and overrun with emotion.

He sighed and drew you close to him again. “I know,” he said gently. “You don’t have to apologize. I know that scared you.”

You shook your head as you leaned against his chest. “He was asleep,” you tried to explain. “I closed the door on the bunk and I just went to take a shower - I didn’t mean to - ”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “He knew better than to wander off like that, especially outside.”

Din looked down at the small bundle in your arms, wrapped now in the cloak you wore.

“It was very naughty to make your mama worry like that,” Din said firmly, raising a finger for emphasis. “Don’t do that again.”

The baby gave a babble that sounded somewhat affirmative and apologetic, looking up at you with those big eyes for good measure. You were so relieved that he was alright that you couldn’t stay upset with him; you covered his ears with your cloak and held him close.

“You ought to get back inside, cyar’ika,” Din said. “Try and get warmed up.”

You looked up at him, intending to say that he should come in as well, and felt a wave of guilt that you’d only just realized how his beskar was completely frosted over. The usually shiny metal was dull and white, and you knew he had to be freezing.

“Oh, Din,” you said, reached a hand up to touch the icy side of his helmet. He took your hand in a gentle grip before you could, saving you from touching the cold metal and warming your fingers with his touch.

“Please come inside,” you said, already trying to think of ways to warm him up without any heat on the ship. “You must be freezing.”

“I’m alright,” he soothed, though you knew he was probably more uncomfortable than he let on. “I need to keep working on the repairs. You and the baby shouldn’t be out in this.”

“Neither should you,” you said. “You’re - I mean, you’re covered in frost.”

He nodded. “Beskar clouds pretty quickly in the cold. It’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, realizing you weren’t going to get anywhere with him, but you weren’t annoyed. Since the frog lady had urged him to begin repairs sooner, he’d been single-mindedly working on the major parts of the ship that were damaged; he was going to work until he couldn’t feel his fingers any more, and then probably a little bit longer before he came inside. You admired his determination and hard work as much as you worried for him, and you wouldn't have had him any other way.

You were hesitant to leave him, but knew you should get the baby inside.

“At least kiss me before I go,” you said, knowing it was a lot to ask. “That way I can see for myself if you’re turning into an ice block under that helmet.”

He chuckled and lifted the bottom of his helmet just enough to oblige you, giving you a gentle, chaste kiss.

“There,” he said, once his helmet had been replaced. “Warm enough for you?”

You hummed in agreement. “For now.” You lightly tapped your boot against his. “Don’t stay out too long, my love.”

He shook his head. “Ne baatir, cyare.” He’d said that to you enough times over the years that you didn’t have to ask what it meant: don’t worry, beloved.

You gave him one last smile before heading back around the ship, bundling the baby close against the temperature that had started to drop steadily as the sun went down. Minding your steps lest you stumble over a snow-covered rock or bit of debris, you noticed something odd; it looked like there were another set of footprints in the snow, bigger than either yours or Din’s. You stopped and followed them with your gaze, trying not to let fear get the better of you; they led away from the ship towards the jagged side of the cavern, around a corner that seemed to lead into a different cave.

The baby started to babble excitedly, his little clawed hand pointing in the direction of the cave. Goodness, had he followed something out here? Come to think of it, where was your passenger?

You looked back over your shoulder and saw your husband diligently working on a smoking part near the back of the ship.

“Din!” you called. You tried to make your voice carry without any indication of panic, but he looked up and zeroed in on you all the same.

He cocked his head in question, as you weren’t in any obvious danger, and you waved him over. He set his tools aside and started towards you, and you hoped you hadn’t annoyed him by interrupting his work.

“What is it?” he asked, not unkindly, and you knew he hadn’t minded coming over. You gestured to the footprints.

“Do you think it’s the frog lady?” you asked.

He studied the path of the footprints, most likely through his HUD, and sighed.

“She’s not in the ship?” he asked.

“No,” you answered. Recalling your frantic search for the baby, you realized that you hadn’t seen her anywhere. “Why would she leave?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I need to go find her. There’s no telling what’s in those caves.”

You suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Should we go with you?”

He considered that, looking over you and the baby for a moment. “I guess. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, but - do you think you’ll be warm enough?”

You drew his cloak closer around you and your baby. “I think so. I’d feel better going with you.”

He put a hand on your back as you followed the path of the footprints, his touch steadying and safe. “Just stick close to me, cyare. Don’t wander.”

“Din,” you said, affectionate and a little exasperated. You’d been married to a bounty hunter long enough to know that right by his side was the safest place to be. “When have you ever known me to wander?”

He chuckled. “I know, I know. You’re very good about it.” He looked around as you walked through the mouth of the cave, and you knew he was making himself aware of every possible danger.

“I don’t have any idea what to look out for,” he said honestly. You could tell how much he hated not knowing what you were up against, not being as prepared to protect you as he would have liked.

You had never made a habit of questioning his authority - he knew much better than you how to keep you safe, and if he gave you an order in a dangerous situation, you complied. It was the least you could do, considering how often he was called on to protect his wife and child. With your marriage vows, Din had sworn to kar'taylir bal cabuor, to hold you in his heart and to protect you; you had vowed your love and trust in return.

You reached out to put a hand on his arm. “I trust you, Din,” you said simply.

He nodded. “I know, cyare. Thank you.”

You stayed close to your husband's side as the cave darkened and threaded through the columns of ice that loomed on every side; it was eerily quiet except for the sound of your footsteps through the snow. Din scanned the area constantly through his HUD; you trusted him to lead you, as you couldn’t make out the footprints in the dim light. He paused for a moment at a fork in the path.

“There’s a heat signature through there,” he said, nodding to the leftmost path. You held onto the edge of his cloak, hoping to settle both of you a little, and followed as he cautiously made his way down the path.

After a bit of a tricky slope that Din offered his hand to help you over, the path opened up into a cavern that was noticeably warmer than the rest of the cave had been. Steam rose from a wide, shallow pool in the middle of the space that you guessed came from a hot spring. The frog lady was swimming in the pool, her eggs spread out around her like little jewels on the water’s surface.

“There you are,” Din said, his voice echoing around the cavern as he walked over to her. He sounded understandably frustrated; you watched as he got a sense of his surroundings and assessed any threats, undoubtedly coming to the conclusion more quickly than you had that it was too big of a space with too many shadowed corners for him to be at any sort of defensive advantage if the need arose.

“You can’t leave the ship,” he told her, rounding the pool to the side where the egg chamber sat full of liquid but without any of the eggs. “It’s not safe out here.”

You followed and knelt with him beside the pool, putting the baby between you.

“Let’s gather these up,” Din said, gesturing to the eggs bobbing in the warm water. The frog lady croaked in dismay as she cradled a few.

“I know it’s warm,” Din said, a gentle sympathy coloring his voice. He scooped up a handful of the eggs, paying no mind to wetting his gloves, and put them back in the chamber. “But night’s coming fast, and I can’t protect you out here.”

You helped take the eggs out of the water, careful of their seemingly thin protective skin; the water was delightfully warm, and you couldn’t help a fleeting wish to be swimming in it too. You handed the eggs to Din to put back into the chamber.

In your periphery, you saw your baby’s little hand inching towards an egg floating close to the edge of the pool; you and Din both noticed it at the same time, and both of you held an admonishing finger between your son and the tempting egg.

“No,” you said at the same time, in the tone you reserved for scolding. The baby looked from you to Din with a pleading expression, but Din wasn’t fazed.

“No,” he repeated firmly. He went back to gathering the eggs as the baby gave a squeak of protest, and you made a mental note to find your son something to eat when you got back to the ship.

The eggs were more slippery than you’d expected, and rounding them up took all three of you working together. You knew Din was trying to be careful and quick at the same time; being away from the ship made him wary, and there were a lot of you to protect in such a large space. You helped as best you could, holding out handfuls of eggs for him to put back into the chamber and quickly going back to gather more.

From behind you, you heard the distinctive, fearful cry of your baby; you whirled around, looking everywhere for him, and found him running over from between rows of little white eggs that seemed to be twisting in a sickly, grotesque sort of way.

You felt an icy wash of uncanny terror and needlessly called your husband’s name, abandoning the pool to rush over to your son and pick him up. You saw with a sudden wave of nauseated horror that things were coming from the eggs, chittering things with long, spindly legs. You stumbled backwards and would have lost your footing if Din hadn’t caught you, immediately pulling you back towards the pool.

You couldn't have spurred yourself to move, so horrifically entranced were you by the loathsome creatures as they swarmed over the far side of the cavern floor, but you wondered why your husband didn’t seem any more inclined to action. You felt a little faint.

“Din,” you said uncertainly. You vaguely wondered how often you called your husband’s name like a plea for help, and if it ever wore on him.

“Right here,” he said, and it sounded so unlike him, so dreamy and faint, that it snapped you back to awareness like a slap in the face.

“Din,” you said again, more firmly. You turned and looked at him; he was watching the spider-like creatures start to climb the walls, his posture slack. That alone scared you badly enough to smack a hand against his chestplate in panic.

“Din!” you said again, sharp and loud. The spiders were inching closer, their chittering growing louder with each passing second -

Your hand on his chest and the sound of your voice seemed to snap him out of it, and his whole body tensed up immediately.

“Kriff,” he bit out, anger and panic tightening his voice even through the vocoder. He shut the canister of eggs and slung it onto his shoulder, taking your upper arm in a firm grip with his free hand.

“Go,” he ordered, and you couldn’t have disobeyed him if you wanted to. He released you and you started to run towards the cave entrance you’d come through earlier, your baby pressed close to your chest -

You only made it a few feet from the pool when a terrible roar shook the cavern, stopping you dead in your tracks. A giant, eldritch spider was crawling from behind the outcropping at the far side of the cavern, and it was all you could do to hold onto consciousness as you saw it take another step towards you.

Read chapter four!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven, @sarahjkl82-blog, @remmysbounty ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

#reader is so stressed in this one...... and girl she is only gonna get more stressed #nice #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian chapter 10 #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #chapter 10: the passenger #ciryc ca'tra #flashing gif tw

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gondowan · 4 years ago

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Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Paz Viszla x f!Reader

You're used to working for others. As a freelance armstech, you flit from contract to contract, never staying too long in one place. Although the freelancer life is fun, you kind of wish you could trade it all for a little bit of stability. As the maker would have it, that stability shows up in the form of one (1) Paz Viszla.

Tags/Warnings: nothing right now, but future loving degradation, Good Communication Is My Kink, daddy kink, and other sexy consensual shenangians. Reader has slight self esteem issues.

Notes: I haven’t written for fun in forever, but new year new me! If you know me in real life never bring this up because I will combust lol. I was going to fire off a brief smutty one-shot pwp thing but of course I couldn’t resist adding ~ b a c k s t o r y ~ so here you go. Subsequent updates will probably just be pwp.

Chapter 1: All The Grass is Greener Everywhere You Look

Nervousness, you assumed, was a regular feeling for anyone who was newly married. Doubly so for the new spouse of a Mandalorian. Unlike the rest of the galaxy where marriage vows were somewhat loose, Mandalorians took their vows very seriously. Forever, generally meant, forever.

Your relationship with Paz Viszla was strange in and of itself. As a freelance armstech, you hopped from planet to planet offering your repair services, never staying in any one place for too long. While on Bothawui, you had let slip to a client that you were headed to Nevarro next. Greef Karga, the head of the Guild, had put you on a retainer for services to guild members for a few cycles. The pay was good, and he had promised you a steady supply of commissions from the local bounty hunters who frequented Nevarro in need of new weapons and repairs on top of the already nice stipend.

The Bothan, a short humanoid by the name of Eesk, perked up when you mentioned Nevarro, and the next day he came over as you were on your way to the spaceport.

“Can I ask a favor? Do you mind making a delivery for me while on Nevarro?” he asked, pulling a datapad out from his robes.

You looked up, eyes narrowing. Bothans were famous for their information network, and were instrumental to the destruction of the first Death Star, but still, you were understandably nervous. “ Eesk, I’m not interested in looking for trouble. I don’t need the New Republic or any Imp remnant breathing down my neck for delivering that for you,” you said.

Eesk laughed, “Relax, I promise you this isn’t serious. Just deliver this to a Mandalorian on Nevarro. It’s nothing classified, I’m just returning a favor for a friend,”. He slid over a stack of credits. “I’d take it to him myself, but unfortunately I’m held up on New Republic business”.

You reached over and tucked the datapad into your bag along with the credits, “Fine, but you owe me”.

“Next time you’re here, drinks on me.” he said as he walked away.

It was only until you had boarded the transport ship that you realized Eesk had never actually told you were to meet this Mandalorian. ‘Oh well,’ you thought, ‘he’s not getting these credits back’. You leaned your head against the wall of the ship, tired from hauling all of your luggage to the spaceport, and fell asleep.

You were three standard weeks into your contract with Greef Karga and the Guild, and still no Mandalorian had shown up to collect the datapad. It was nice to be somewhat settled in one place for longer than a week, and you had enjoyed the steady stream of work. You had also learned from Karga that the Mandalorian covert scattered from Nevarro, and he hadn’t seen one in a while. For all of their information trafficking and spy network, perhaps Eesk had gotten it wrong for once, and you didn’t really care to ask. After all, it would be nigh impossible to miss a person wearing head to toe armor, especially on Nevarro.

One morning, as you had returned from your walk to the lava plains, you discovered the door to your apartment was unlocked. Strange. Not a good sign. None of your alarms were triggered either. Carefully, you pulled your blaster out its holster before quietly pushing the door open.

“There you are. Been looking all over for you.”

A large man, clad in blue armor and covered in more weapons per square inch that any other being you had ever seen, sat next to your workstation. Despite the blaster pointed at him, he seemed unperturbed, posture open and relaxed.

“What do you want?” you asked, blaster raised, "You picked the wrong house to rob,". You had fended off your fair share of robberies, the expensive equipment you lugged around as an armstech was attractive to petty thieves, and not cheap.

“The datapad.” he said.

“I take it you’re the Mandalorian that Eesk spoke about.”

“Correct,”.

You rummage through your toolkit and dust off the datapad. “Here you go Mr. Mandalorian, although I suggest next time you knock during business hours. Breaking and entering is reserved for long term partners, and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet”. You wince a little inwardly, maybe this dry spell was affecting you more than you thought.

You tap the edge of the datapad on the Mandalorian’s chest plate. “Oh and you might want to get the blaster strapped to your thigh checked, those scorch marks are usually a bad sign,”.

The blue hunk of armor stood up and took the datapad from you. “Thank you for this,” he rumbled before heading out the door.

“Ah, so you do have manners,” you teased before moving to shut the door.

You can’t see the expression on his face, but you hear the huff of a laugh through his modulator accompanied with a shake of his shoulders.

You were pretty sure you’d never see him again.

Wrong.

The next day right as you returned from dropping off a box of repaired pistols, there he was again, blue armor and blank expressionless helmet, sitting in the same spot next to your workstation.

“Can you fix it?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a second, before remembering the comment you made yesterday. “I can take a look,”. You cross over to your workstation, turning on the light and the magnifying glass and grabbing your toolkit. It was an easy but time-consuming fix, and you quickly busied yourself with disassembling the rifle.

“You’re not from Nevarro,”. A question, posed as a statement.

You didn’t look up, “Nope, I’m just passing through.” Hmm, that power cell did not look too good.

“Where is home for you?”

“Nowhere,” you said matter-of-factly as you tinkered away, “Like most people, the Clone Wars and the Empire destroyed what little of a childhood I had. Got taken in by a kind armstech who taught me the trade, and now I hop from planet to planet making a living. What about you? I heard about what happened to the Mandalorians on this planet,”.

“Also nowhere,” the man grunted, and he remained quiet. You finished your work, and handed him the blaster, butt end first.

“You owe me two drinks now, breaking into my place like that.”

He took the blaster from you, two gloved finger tips drawing a line from the middle of your forearm down your wrist. An unnecessary movement, he could’ve just taken the blaster. You gulped. He put the gun back in its holster and leaned forward.

“I might, if you ask nicely. I saw the way you sized me up the first time,”.

You swallowed, mouth going dry. “It’s uh, part of my line of work. Gotta make sure everyone’s packing-- I mean, everyone’s weapons are in tip top shape.” Your stupid lizard brain, at it again.

He cocked his head to the side, “I’m sure it is,” the mirth evident in his tone.

Every evening thereafter, the blue Mandalorian showed up at your doorstep, a new weapon in hand for you to look at. It was nice, you had to admit to yourself. A consistency in your otherwise inconsistent life, and you grew to enjoy his company. What you couldn’t handle however, was the escalating tension between the two of you. He would occasionally stand behind you, his big, all-encompassing frame brushing up against your back, and lean over you to ask about this or that. The first time you thought it was an accident, but then he followed up with an oh-so-casual touch of your wrist, and you were pretty sure it was on purpose, but you also couldn’t tell if that was wishful thinking on your part. Occasionally the two of you would strike up a conversation, but for the most part he sat in a comfortable silence while you worked. When he came over the fourth night, large gattling gun in tow, you decided it was high time to try to get to know him better.

“Uh...would you like to stay for dinner?”, eyes looking down on the (ancient) gattling gun, trying to keep your voice light.

He paused and shook his head “I can’t,”.

Oh, an immediate shut down. Great. Well it was worth a shot.

“Not for the reason you think. I can’t remove my helmet in the presence of others, that’s part of the creed,”.

That made a lot of sense. You hadn’t come across many Mandalorians in your travels, but all of them were rather cagey about their armor and helmet. You had assumed it was due to the value of beskar, but this was the first time you had heard about this creed.

You looked up at him. “Don’t you ever get lonely?” you blurted out, the words forming on your tongue before your brain could shut you down. “Nevermind-- I’m sorry I-”

He interjected, “Sometimes. There are some exceptions though,”.

You leaned forward. “Such as?”.

A pause. He stepped forward, tipping your chin up with a finger.

“ Would you care to find out?”

Ch 2 here

#paz viszla #paz vizla x reader #paz viszla x reader #2021 new year new me #and by new year new me i mean i will write the kinky caretaking fic i want #the mandalorian #mono writes #THE LAST TIME I WROTE IT WAS FOR MASS EFFECT LMAO #this is way too much buildup #but whatever!!!!!#over your shoulder fic

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blue-bird-on-a-wire · 4 years ago

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Beroya (Bounty Hunter)

Part 4 of the Gar Cuyir Yaim series

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,664

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x (Y/n) with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Jabba’s slave culture, mentioned kidnapping/child kidnapping, insecure (Y/n), hinted/implied abuse of (Y/n), hinted/implied child abuse

Summary: Paz takes (Y/n) to Verith.

Updates: Every Tuesday at 5:30 pm MT

A/N: Hello! You can also find this fic on Ao3 under B1ue_Bird_0n_A_Wire. Please feel free to give me feedback, as I don’t have a beta reader and often miss spelling mistakes. If you feel there need to be more warnings/other warnings, feel free to DM me! 😊 Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Master-list

“-op! Stop it! Get it off! It hurts!” screamed a child’s voice.

“Keep quiet!”

There was the sound of skin on skin - someone had just been slapped.

“If I hear another word outta that mouth, that lip won’t be the only thing bleedin’! You’ll wear that collar and you’ll like it!”

A whimper. The sound of heavy breathing - shuddering, if you will.

Heavy footsteps could be heard walking away before something slammed shut. Perhaps a door of some sort.

“I-I wanna go home,” cried the child’s voice. “I want my aliit.”

“Paz?”

The audio recording immediately stopped.

The big blue Mandalorian sat hunched over something in the cockpit. I could see his shoulders tense at the sound of my voice. He reached for a rag at his feet and covered whatever was in front of him.

“Paz, what was that?” I asked, trying to peek around his body.

“It’s nothing,” Paz said, standing to full height as he turned to face me. “I didn’t hear you coming up the ladder.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I wanted to ask where we’re going.”

Paz’s helmet tilted down and his shoulders visibly relaxed. “First we’re going to stop at Verith, so we can refuel and get you some clothes.”

I felt my chest tighten but in that sort of warm good way. Here I was worried about asking for undergarments, and Paz had already been planning to get me my own clothes.

I never had my own clothes before. Outfits were always passed around between Jabba’s slaves. We never owned anything for ourselves. It was all meant to be shared or borrowed.

I smiled. “Can I stay here with you?” I asked, taking look at the wide window that showed off the passing stars. “You have a pretty view up here, and in all honestly I’m not too used to the quiet. It was always noisy at Jabba’s. Even when he was asleep he would snore.”

Paz quietly laughed. Actually laughed. His head leaned back a bit and his shoulders shook.

“Of course, (Y/n),” Paz said, gesturing to the co-pilot chair. “How did you sleep? You were in there for a while.”

“I was?” I asked as I sat down. “Your bed is really nice. I’ve never slept on something so comfortable before.”

Paz shoved whatever was under the rag to the side with his boot, beneath the ship’s controls. “You flatter me. That bed is stiff, no need to sugar coat it.”

“I… I wasn’t,” I said, turning my gaze to the stars.

Paz sat down in the pilot’s chair. He stayed silent, but his helmet’s visor didn’t look away from me.

I watched the galaxy fly past us. I wondered how many people were out there. What kind of lives were they living?

What kind of life had this Mandalorian lived?

“Paz, can I ask you a question?”

“Hmm.”

I assumed that meant yes. “You said you know me- or you knew me when we were children. But I can’t remember much of anything before Jabba.”

Paz nodded his head.

“... What was our childhood like?”

Paz’s helmet tilted upward as though he was thinking. His chair let out a creaking sound as he leaned back into it.

“Our childhood,” Paz said. He looked back at me, just as I was now looking at him. “... It was carefree. I was about seven when I first met you. Tinny little thing you were. Only about a year or two old, I think.”

I couldn’t help but picture a small boy wearing oversized Mandalorian armor, peering over a basket at an even smaller baby.

“I swore the creed not long after, so you wouldn’t remember what I looked like without the armor. I didn’t pay much attention to you at first. But we got older, and you learned to walk. Started following me everywhere,” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I had to watch out for you when I trained. Elbowed you a few times on accident. I didn’t know you were behind me. Made me become more aware of my surroundings…”

Paz lifted an elbow to his armrest, resting the chin of his helmet on his hand. “You liked playing games, but your favorite was this hiding game. I would count to something like ten while you hid somewhere in the covert. Then I would find you, and you would count to a number before you found me.”

I smiled, “That sounds like a pretty fun game.”

Paz nodded his head, “You would start laughing whenever I came close to your hiding spot. I never pretended I couldn’t hear you. Thought it would make you a better warrior that way.” A pause. “Well… Sometimes I let you get away with it,” he admitted.

I wondered if he was this kind with other children as well. Did he still play with them when they asked?

“... It was happy,” Paz said.

Happy. At least for a while, I suppose.

We sat in silence for a little longer, and my gaze fell to the blur of stars through the cockpit’s window.

Paz never turned away from me. He watched intently, but I didn’t feel as threatened by it. I couldn’t even see his eyes but I just had this feeling that his stare was one of curiosity or reminiscing. Instinct could be crazy that way.

“It’s good to see there is still some of that child left in you,” Paz whispered, as though he didn’t want to disturb the air in the room.

“Hmm?” I asked, still looking outside.

“You always did love the stars.”

I smiled but made no move to look at him.

“... I remember looking at the stars,” I said. “I remember a dark sky with tall trees. I had to squint my eyes to look past the branches… Or, at least I think I did.”

Paz seemed to hold his breath.

“...Just little white dots spread throughout the sky… I haven’t seen the sky since I was brought to Jabba. I never thought I would see it again, but then you showed up,” I turned to look at Paz. “You set me free so I could see the stars.”

How many of these stars had changed since I last saw them? How many had died or were new?

I looked down at my hands, playing with the excessively long sleeves. “I can’t remember much because I don’t allow myself to… Or rather, I wasn’t allowed to. I could keep my name but nothing else.”

A pause.

Of course, he didn’t want to hear about it. Why would he-

“What was your childhood like? With Jabba,” Paz asked.

Or maybe he did.

“Boring. Kept me on my toes I guess,” I said. “I didn’t have friends because the only ones I could freely talk to were other slaves. But, none of them stayed around or lived long enough to have a relationship with me… In all honesty, I don’t even know how I survived for so long… Maybe I’m just really good at keeping my head down, or maybe I’m just lucky.”

“I daydreamed a lot. Made the day go by faster. When I was bussing tables I got to overhear smugglers and bounty hunters talking about the things from their travels. I learned about-“

Well, I suppose I re-learned or rediscovered, or-

“- I mean. I guess I heard about Mandalorians… I became obsessed with them. I used to have dreams about Mandalorians storming Jabba’s palace and taking me away to be a foundling.”

I smiled, glancing up at Paz.

“I suppose that in a way, those dreams came true.”

“But you weren’t bussing tables when I showed up,” Paz pointed out.

I felt the heat rise to my face and I let out a nervous laugh. “Um, I may have had a bad encounter with a bounty hunter. This guy was trying to hit on me-“

Paz straightened up in his chair.

“-and I wasn’t having it, so he convinced Jabba that I would make a good dancer. And everyone knows that dancers are dead within a week or so. Which is why he-“

“Where is he?” Paz interrupted.

“Oh! He’s dead. Jabba fed him to the rancor.”

Paz almost seemed disappointed. “That’s unfortunate. I would have liked to kill him myself.”

“Oh?” I asked. “How come?”

“No one can look at you or treat you like a piece of meat. Not as long as I’m around,” Paz explained. “He’s lucky it was a rancor that killed him and not me.”

I felt my heart flutter. No one had ever expressed this kind of protectiveness over me. Not in a million years did I think anyone could.

“You humor me,” I said, my voice quiet as I looked away from Paz.

“No, Sarad. Just being honest.”

A red light started flashing on the ship’s control panel, and Paz turned around in his chair to press a few buttons and flip a switch. “We’re exiting hyperspace now. You might want to strap in.”

Strap in? What did he mean by-

The ship jerked as it came to a slow. I flew out of my seat and onto the floor with a yelp.

Oh. That’s what he meant by strap in.

Embarrassed, I scurried back to the co-pilot’s seat hoping that Paz hadn’t noticed.

He definitely had. His shoulders were shaking as though he was trying to suppress a laugh.

Oh boy.

Looking out the window, I let out an audible gasp. A planet, covered in patches of green and brown with huge white clouds swirling about. It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Welcome to Verith,” Paz said as he took the ship into the planet’s atmosphere.

Drawing closer, I could see the outline of tall mountains covered in little green fuzzy things. The closer the got, I soon realized those were actually really tall trees. Little towns and cities were scattered about between the foliage. I could see colorful banners and flags waving in the wind.

I had never seen such breathtaking scenery.

~ ~ ~

As Paz lowered the ramp of the ship, I felt excitement bubble up within me. Tatooine had been so dry and dusty. From the looks of it this planet was the complete opposite.

I followed behind Paz, taking a quick look around.

This hanger was huge. There were so many people running about with tools and dirty faces from working on ships all day.

A teal twi’lik woman walked up to us, sparing a glance at my oversized clothing before meeting my eyes.

She was beautiful in her gray jumpsuit, even with black marks smudged across her cheek.

“How can I help you?” she asked, looking between Paz and I.

“Fuel,” Paz stated, handing over a small pouch. “We won’t be long.”

The woman nodded and accepted the money with ease before walking toward the ship.

“Let’s get going. The sooner we can get back the better,” Paz said.

“Why is that?” I asked as we walked out of the hanger.

I had never seen so much vegetation. There were trees everywhere I turned, and bushes scattered all about. Green, string-like things were hanging onto buildings. I could feel the compact dirt beneath my toes. It was cool and fairly moist. Nothing like the rough sand on Tatooine.

“This planet is crowded. Far too many people for my taste,” Paz stated.

I smiled. “Are you not around people very much?”

Paz let out an amused huff. “Not large crowds like this.”

I could see what he meant. I felt like I needed to hold onto Paz so I wouldn’t lose him. There were so many people running around all packed together. I could hardly hear over all the commotion.

Soon enough, Paz led me to a marketplace littered with different vendors.

They shouted as people walked by, yelling about deals or asking questions about what people had or didn’t have.

It was funny watching people either get sucked into a conversation and subsequently buying something, or get irritated at the vendor’s efforts.

I could sit somewhere and watch the comings and goings of this little marketplace all day.

“Hey! Miss!”

One of the vendors reached out from his stand to touch my shoulder.

I yelped in surprise and jumped back, accidentally bumping into Paz.

“Ya know what would look good on you?” He asked, holding up a dangly-looking collar in his other hand.

That was an awfully sparkly collar. It didn’t look practical at all. I could probably rip that thing from my neck if I wanted to.

A gloved hand aggressively swatted this man’s arm away from my body.

“Not interested,” Paz stated, placing one hand on my back to guide me forward.

“I wasn’ talkin’ ta you!” The vendor called. “That pretty lady ya got there-”

I felt Paz’s hand drop as he turned his head toward the man.

His helmet tilted downward almost like he was glaring.

“Alright! Alright! Sheesh,” the vendor waved his hands and looked out into the crowd for someone else to bother.

Wait a minute. Why did he suddenly stop?

“How did you do that?” I asked Paz as we continued walking down the street.

“No one likes to be threatened by a blaster,” the big blue Mandalorian simply stated.

“Oh…” Yeah, I suppose that made sense.

As we turned a corner onto another busy street, I heard laugher coming from not too far away. It was young laughter, like that of a-

“Look out!”

A young boy came running through the crowd, pushing past people and giggling.

Paz sidestepped out of the way just as the boy went flying past.

“I’m gonna get you! You can’t hide from me!” yelled another boy, quickly catching up to the first one.

Children. It had been a while since I had seen a child, let alone ones that were happy.

I couldn’t help but stop and watch as they zig-sagged through the street.

I hoped they would be ok. I hoped they would stay happy and carefree for the rest of their lives. I hoped they wouldn’t be snatched from their homes and be forced to-

“Almost there, Sarad,” Paz said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I turned back to find him looking at me. Whoops.

“Sorry, I’m coming.”

Near the middle of the street was another vendor, but she was much less pushy. Hunched over and walking with a cane, her dark eyes light up when she saw Paz.

“Beroya!” she exclaimed. “It has been so long. How have you been?”

Bair-oy-ah? I thought his name was Paz.

The Mandalorian chuckled. “I’ve been fine. I have someone I would like you to meet.”

I nervously waved my hand at the woman. “Hi.”

The old woman gave me a once-over before her eyes landed on my neck. “My goodness, what happened to you?” She placed a wrinkled hand on my collarbone.

Oh. I had forgotten about the lines on my neck. This place had already made me feel too comfortable.

“Oh, um-”

Paz placed a hand on my shoulder and started speaking in another language to this woman.

She looked up at him and her eyes widened before softening and glancing back to me. “Oh child, how strong you are.”

What? What did she mean? Paz had said that too.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you?”

The woman smiled, before swatting Paz in the leg with her walking stick.

He didn’t budge.

“How come you haven’t introduced us yet, Beroya? Where are your manners?” asked the woman, before turning back to me. “I am Jalimia, an old friend of Paz.”

Oh good. His name was Paz and I wasn’t going crazy.

“Nice to meet you Jalimia. I’m (Y/n),” I said.

“Ah, I see. Well, let’s get you into clothes that aren’t three times your size. Come, look here,” Jalimia said, walking behind her vendor’s stand.

I looked to Paz to see if it was ok.

Paz gestured toward Jalimia. “You don’t need my permission.”

I smiled before following after the old woman.

“Let’s see. What sorts of colors do you usually wear?” she asked.

“Uhh, great question,” I said.

On Tattoine, wearing white or generally light colors was a trademark of slavery. Before Oola’s outfit, I wore faded beige tunics. However, black didn’t feel right just yet. Black was symbolic of freedom, but I still didn’t fully feel free. Whatever that feeling may be. I didn’t know what to do with myself or where I was going. Almost… in a limbo of sorts.

“Hmm,” Jalimia looked me up and down before glancing at Paz.

She gasped, “I know what would look nice on you!” She reached under her stand.

Jalimia pulled out an old wooden trunk, filled to the brim with clothing. Opening it, she shuffled through several colorful pieces before pulling out some duller outfits underneath.

That made me feel better. At least she wouldn’t put me in anything flashy. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself.

“Ah, here we are,” Jalimia said as she pulled out a sky blue tunic top and a pair of dark gray pants. “Go behind that curtain and try these on.”

She shoved the outfit into my hands.

“And you can’t forget these, my dear,” Jalimia whispered, tucking something between the folds of the outfit.

She then waved me off before turning to a box full of shoes under her stand.

I made my way behind the curtian, safely out of view from the people walking by. Unfolding everything, I found a plain pair of undergarments between the folds of the tunic. I felt my eyes dampen at the gesture.

I took off the clothes Paz had lent me and put on Jalimia’s. They fit much nicer around my from. There was not much excess fabric on the sleeves, and the pants didn’t hang below my feet.

Stepping back out into the light with Paz’s clothes hugged tightly to my chest, my eyes fell onto the big blue Mandalorian. He was standing on the opposite side of the vendor’s stand, leaning against it with his arm crossed.

He straightened up once he spotted me.

“Oh how beautiful!” exclaimed Jalimia. “If I didn’t know they were nearly extinct, I would say you look like a Jedi in training.”

“A what in where?” I asked.

“No, Sarad, you look fine,” Paz turned to Jalimia. “Thank you. How much do I-”

“No, no, no. You have done me one too many favors. You just promise me to take good care of this one,” Jalimia pointed at me.

She then pulled up a pair of boots from the box. “And take these as well,” she said.

“Oh, I can’t possibly-”

“Hush child,” Jalimia said to me. “Think of these as gifts that come with your newfound freedom.”

Oh… That’s what Paz must have told her about.

“Go ahead and try them on. We don’t want you getting any blisters walking around in those boots.”

I slipped the boots on. They were snug against my feet, and padded enough on the inside that I didn’t feel any pebbles beneath the soles. I liked them.

I smiled. “You are so kind, Jalimia. Thank you for these.”

“We should get going,” Paz said to Jalimia. “Our ship is waiting for us not too far from here.”

Jalimia feigned disappointment. “What, you don’t want to spend a night here with old Jalimia?” she laughed. “I better see you around soon, Paz. Your company is anyways welcome.”

Paz nodded his head. “I’m sure it won’t be long.”

With that, I gave Jalimia a wave goodbye before following Paz back down the busy street.

I felt happier. Lighter. I had my own clothes now.

“How do you know Jalimia?” I asked as we turned a corner.

Paz’s helmet tilted to glance down at me. “She was a Mandalorian a long time ago. Her riduur died during the Siege of Mandalore. After her death, Jalimia took off her helmet never to dawn it again.”

“Oh…” I said. That made my heart ache. Jalimia seemed like such a happy person. I couldn’t imagine seeing her so distraught from losing someone she was close to.

“... What is a ridurr?” I asked.

“A life partner. Spouse. In Jalimia’s case, her ridurr was her wife,” Paz explained.

That made my heart hurt even more. She lost the most important person in her life. I couldn’t imagine having to endure such pain.

“... Where are we going next, Paz?”

“That’s up to you,” he said. “If you want to stay with me.”

The thought of not staying with him terrified me. I had nowhere else to go. Besides, Paz had already been kinder to me than most. Aside from Jalimia.

“If… If you don’t mind I would like to stay. At least for now,” I explained. “I hate to be a burden or anything, but I also don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Paz hummed, though I couldn’t tell what for.

“You could never be a burden.”

I smiled. That meant more to me than he could even know.

“... Once we get back to the ship, I was going to set course for Ket’yci. There is a Mandalorian covert stationed there.”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “No way! You’re actually taking me to a Mandalorian covert?”

Paz chuckled, “Keep your voice down.”

“Paz, you don’t understand. I’ve wanted this since I was little,” I loudly whispered.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that you will be embraced with open arms,” Paz said, though I still caught the hurt in his voice he tried to mask.

It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t remember. He knew that. If the roles were reversed, I’m sure I would be just as pained that my childhood friend had no memory of me either.

I grinned up at him. “Let’s get going then,” I excitedly said, gently gripping Paz’s arm and pulling him down the street.

(Part 5 coming soon!)

Mandoa Translations:

“Aliit” - “Family”

“Sarad” - “Flower”

“Beroya” - “Bounty Hunter”

“Riduur” - “Patner/Spouse/Husband/Wife”

(If you are interested in being added to the tag list, please tap/click this link Tag List & More 💕 Same goes for being taken off the tag list 😊 ALSO! If I forgot you on the tag list, I am so so sorry. Do not hesitate to remind me that you belong on the tag list. Thank you!)

#the mandalorain #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz viszla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla x y/n #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #also on ao3

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hecallsmehischild · 4 years ago

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Recent Media Consumed

Books

Half-Bad by Sally Green. Man, this is grim. It’s good fantasy, and the writers breaks certain writing conventions to convey the story better, which is fascinating. But it’s so grim. There’s two more books in the series and I want to get ahold of those before I say more.

Zoo City by Lauren Beukes. Did I say Half-Bad was grim? This is grim. Grimdark to the max. But also a fascinating premise, that the crime of murder and its accompanying guilt manifests an animal companion that marks you for the rest of your (shortened) life? If you can stomach some of the imagery and if you do well with being plunged into unknown terminology and figuring it out on the go from context, this is a good read.

Dropped titles: Pursuing God’s Will Together by Ruth Haley Barton and How Should We Then Live by Francis Shaeffer. One was a recommendation, one was semi-assigned reading because I’m a non-voting member of a ministry board. In both cases I got about halfway through. I have the gist of both books and I’m enjoying neither. At all. I started to avoid Audible altogether. The moment I gave myself permission to stop listening to them and pick up the next Thomas Sowell book on my list, I was right back on reading, because I’m actually interested in what Sowell has to say. Note to self: it’s ok to drop books that you find uninteresting. (this preceded a Sowell binge reading session)

Dismantling America (and other controversial essays) by Thomas Sowell. I was surprised at how much more of an edge Sowell has in this book, but the appearance of the edge here makes a certain amount of sense. This is the first collection of newspaper columns I’ve read by him, and he has way less time to make his point in a column than he has in a book. With that in mind, his points have much less groundwork than I’m used to reading from him when he spends a whole book on a topic (though I’d guess that each point he makes probably has a crapton of citations in the printed book, like the rest of his work. He’s quite thorough about his research). This is probably not the best title of his to pick as a first read, but it’s good and interesting. My main take-away point from this book is that politicians look out for politicians, and expecting them to do anything else is naive. And, in fact, many things attributed to a politician’s “stupidity” is far from stupid, in fact they are brilliant within their set of incentives and constraints. It just rarely aligns with the general public’s best interest. Thinking about it again, it MIGHT be a good first book. It sums up a lot of his views into bite-sized digests. It just doesn’t substantiate each and every claim as thoroughly as some of his other books do. That’s my grain of salt.

Compassion Versus Guilt by Thomas Sowell. More of the same, a collection of essays by Sowell. Different ones, on a different theme. A couple that sound like they could have been written by the authors of Politically Correct Bedtime Stories, his satire is on point.

Ethnic America by Thomas Sowell. This was a fascinating read for me. This book traces 8 groups of ethnic migrations to America. I descend from Scottish, Irish, and Russian Jewish immigrants, and seeing what the different groups had to content with over the years was very enlightening. A few things that stood out to me were; each immigrant group seems to have very different cultural strengths and foibles, inter-group violence is not new (but not always in the directions modern people would think), almost every group has its own upper class that disdains and reviles its lower class, and each ethnic group is far more variable and differentiated than the general category (“the Irish” or “the blacks” or “the Jews”) makes them out to be. More and more I’m coming to mistrust the general racial category as referenced by either political party because it seems to be a linguistic expediency that sacrifices the truth of a situation for a fast rallying point.

Civil Rights: Rhetoric or Reality? by Thomas Sowell. I’m not even sure what to say about this book. It’s short and punchy and gives me a lot to think about. Sowell definitely has zero sacred cows. Toward the end of this book he addresses some of his critics who piled onto Ethnic America, which was interesting. Also, while reading this, I have begun to realize how much of a disadvantage I am at in analyzing arguments because I’m unable to understand how people slice numbers into statistics to make their point. I’m at the mercy of the conclusion they draw at the end of the statistics because, until they summarize their findings, I really don’t understand what the raw numbers are saying. I’ve had this feeling for a while, but in this book, Sowell dissects some of the foundational studies and statistics that buttressed later civil rights cases, and I realized that if I just read the statistics and data from those cases and the statistical rebuttals that Sowell has side by side, I would not understand what was being argued at all. I can only rely on the end conclusions put into words at this point, but the written conclusion is not the proof, the numbers are. This gap in my understanding is disheartening, but I hope to continue sponging up knowledge in the hopes that I will be able to think more critically in future years.

Maverick, a Biography of Thomas Sowell by Jason L. Riley. My parents pre-ordered this for my birthday a few months ago and it arrived a few days ago. I have torn through it. I think I got a more cohesive overview of Sowell’s progression through his body of work and added several titles to my wishlist. The biography is fairly minimalist on Sowell’s personal life and focuses more on his ideological clashes with… well, everyone, left and right, people he disdained and people he admired. Maverick, alright. Also Riley takes a look at how each of Sowell’s books (or grouping of books) came about, for what reasons, and what was going on at the time.

People of the Book edited by Rachel Swirsky and Sean Wallace. This is a compilation of Jewish sci-fi and fantasy short stories and can probably be summed up best by this paragraph in the introduction: “These stories allow us to identify with, although briefly, so many different characters and places, they entertain us and they give us comfort. And yet, the tales in this anthology often have a melancholic tinge, similar in tone to the minor keys of our musical liturgy. We don’t want to be too comfortable, too happy. Because that might bring some bad luck onto us, might tempt the evil eye.” I also sensed a whole lot of anger in the undercurrent of these stories, and that saddened me.

On deck/currently reading: The Brothers Karamazov, The Rational Bible: Genesis, re-read of Basic Economics, and War Nerd.

Shows

Dropped series: Hilda. The first season was lovely on so many counts. The second season’s antagonist… bothers me. So does Hilda’s behavior. And given how much time I spent on Star and its accompanying disappointment, I’m not really interested in continuing Hilda any further. I’m shelving it at this point. There are other things I’d like to watch.

Infinity Train Season 4: Now retitled “The Wormhole Judgment Line” I believe, lol. It’s hard to top season 3, but it was a solid story. Good. Interesting. The resolution with the villains int he last episode felt kind of out of nowhere and I’m really not okay with Morgan’s behavior even if the plot wants me to feel sorry for her, but those things aside, it was enjoyable. I hope Infinity Train is picked up again, I’d love to see more.

On Deck: The Mandalorian or Wandavision

Movies

Jiang Ziya. Okay whatever this studio produces in this line of movies, I will be watching it. I definitely don’t understand all the significance of what I’m seeing but it’s creative along COMPLETELY DIFFERENT lines than US animation and it’s an absolute joy to behold.

Raya and the Last Dragon. Suffice it to say, it would take an intensive blog post (or a movie review of the style I used to do as one half of The Storytrollers) to cover all the things that bothered me about this movie. I will take the thing that bothered me the most and be brief: I find the moral to be terrible. I take major issue with the idea that repeated blind trust in the face of repeated betrayal will reshape the world, given that I extended blind trust to people who never changed for many years. I take issue with the worldbuilding, I take issue with some of the designs, and I take issue with the moral. I was exceedingly disappointed in this movie.

Profile. Now THIS was a good movie. I would not be averse to seeing more movies shot like this, using the computer desktop as both film set and character. In addition this was an interesting topic, though I was tense for the whole movie, afraid the main character was going to slip up. Very good, very tense movie to sit through.

Mighty Ira. So, this is a documentary about one of the great leaders of the ACLU. It was interesting to see this, especially since it shed more light on the whole Skokie situation than I’d heard of before. Good watch. Informative.

#child loves movies #child loves shows #child loves books #recent media consumed #mind your peas and queues

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supermarvelgirl15 · 4 years ago

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Home- Chapter 5 (The Reckoning)

Summary: An old contact extends an invitation to the Mandalorian and Jesla to make peace with their enemies. Jesla learns something new about what the Jedi are capable of.

Pairing: Eventual Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) × OC!Jesla Gavdo

Word Count: 4,020

Warnings: None really

A/N: So the reason this took forever was because I wrote half of it, and my laptop crashed and didn't save, so I had to rewrite it. Anyway, I'm actually excited about writing the next chapter. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

××××××

“My friend, if you are receiving this transmission that means you are alive. You might be surprised to hear this but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown. They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters. But they will not stop until they have their prize. So here is my proposition: Return to Nevarro, bring the Child as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the Child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism.”

Jesla and Din both watched the older man's- whose name Jesla came to find out was Greef Karga- hologram message. Jesla looks back at the Child who was asleep, contemplating what their course of action should be. She knew that they couldn't run away forever.

“I think we should go,” Mando speaks up, turning his chair to face her.

“We don't exactly have a choice,” Jesla scoffs, crossing her arms. “We're going to need to recruit some help,” she adds.

Mando tilts his head, the incredulous look he's currently giving Jesla hidden by his helmet. “Wouldn't that be overkill? We're enough,” he shares, recalling the incidents with both Toro and Xi'an.

Jesla she shakes her head. “I can't use my abilities around the Empire. It'll just make our situation worse than what it already is,” she tells him as her fingers start to tap the side of her leg once again. Din realized that she would do that whenever she felt uneasy about something.

Din sighs, turning back to face the control panel. He spares a look at the sleeping Child before setting a course that Jesla and him were familiar with, and the Razor Crest jumps into hyperspace.

∞∞∞

The duo walk into a common house on Sorgan, seeing Cara Dune win a laser tethered boxing match with a male Zabrak. As the patrons hand Cara her winnings, she notices them approaching her.

“Looking for some work?”

They all sit at a table, Cara and Jesla helping their selves to some spotchka as Mando starts explaining their situation to Dune. It seemed like a straightforward operation since Karga and his men were providing the plan and the firepower. Mando and the kid were the snares while Jesla and Cara would be their backup in case anything went south.

Cara shook her head as she took a sip from her glass of spotchka. “I don't know. I've been advised to lay low. If anybody runs my chain code, I'll rot in a cell for the rest of my life,” she tells them.

“I thought you were a veteran,” Mando queries with a tilt of his helmet.

“I've been a lot things since, most of them carry a life sentence. If I so much as book passage on a ship registered to the New Republic I'm...” Cara starts before Mando interrupts her.

“I have a ship. We can bring you there and back with a handsome reward. You can live free of worry,” Din bargains.

“I'm already free of worry. And I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting some local warlord,” Cara shrugs, placing her now empty cup on the table.

Jesla takes a swig of her drink before looking up at the dropper. “He's not a local warlord. He's Imperial,” she informs her.

Dune makes direct eye contact with the ex-sharpshooter, a smirk working its way on her face. “I'm in.”

∞∞∞

The Razor Crest flies through space as the group of outlaws prepare for their upcoming mission. Jesla was nervous about going up against the New Empire. As far as everyone knew, she had blew up with the second Death Star. If they found out that she was still alive... Well, she didn't want to think about those consequences. She just had to make sure that no one recognized her.

Karga didn't even know that her and Cara would be accompanying the Mandalorian and the Child. Hopefully, that wouldn't be a problem. At first, Cara was confused as of why they were going to help someone that neither of them trusted in the first place, but once she realized that they didn't exactly have a choice, she understood.

And after a little incident with the Child trying to fly the ship, they realized that they needed someone to watch him. Luckily, Mando knew someone that he trusted enough with such a task.

Jesla watched from the cockpit window as they landed near a moisture farm on Arvala-7, an Ugnaught trying to tame his blurrgs. Mando had told her that this was the planet where he had found the Child.

The Ugnaught gladly invites them all inside his residence, all of them having to bend down to get through the doorway. They all take a seat in the hut, Jesla promptly observing the inside of the house. In her subconscious, she noted her exits and anything that could be used as a weapon. She couldn't help it.

“It hasn't grown much,” the Ugnaught comments as he looks over the Child.

“I think it might be a strand-cast,” Din suggests as he too looks over the kid.

“I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly. This one on the other hand,” the Ugnaught points at Cara, “looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora.”

“This is Cara Dune. She was a shock-trooper,” Mando introduces her. Din makes eye contact with Jesla through his visor. “And this is Jesla Gavdo. She was an Imperial sharpshooter.”

The Ugnaught looks Jesla up and down, as if accessing her. “I too served on the other side, I'm afraid. But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt and now I serve no one but myself,” he tells her. Jesla nods in understanding, not missing the look Cara gives them both out of the corner of her eye.

Then an IG unit enters the building with a tray. Cara, Din, and Jesla all jump up and draw their blasters on the droid. “Would anyone care for some tea?” It asks them nonchalantly.

“Please lower your blasters. He will not harm you,” the Ugnaught informs them.

“That thing is programmed to kill the baby,” Mando says bitterly, not taking his blaster off the IG unit.

“Not anymore.”

IG-11 continues to pour a glass of tea as the Ugnaught tells them all about how he found the IG unit left behind by the Mandalorian and how he reprogrammed it. He told them about the slow and difficult process that he endured to reconstruct the droid. Jesla carefully watched Mando during the Ugnaught's explanation. She knew he would always have his doubts about the droid. Who could blame him?

They all simultaneously lower their blasters and sit back down around the table. Jesla gladly accepts the droid's offered cup of tea, taking a small sip of it. She didn't really know this Ugnaught long enough to trust him, but she did trust Mando. And his judgement was good enough for her.

∞∞∞

Jesla, Cara, and Mando sit in the Razor Crest's cockpit on the way to Nevarro while the Ugnaught, Kuiil, works on a new crib for the Child down in the hangar. Jesla cleans her blaster, making sure it was in working order. She doubted that she would need her MK, but she was going to bring it anyway. Her blaster was her main focus at the moment though.

“Do you know what station the Imperial officer is?” Cara asks Jesla, making her stop her movements on the blaster.

“No, I didn't lay eyes on him before we ditched Nevarro. Mando took out his safe house when he snatched the kid. They've definitely reinforced their troops since then,” Jesla answers her.

IG-11 then appears in the entryway of the cockpit. “I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?” He questions everyone.

Before Jesla could respond, Mando beats her to it. “I'm not hungry,” he says shortly. Cara and Jesla share a look as the IG unit leaves without another word. “Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship,” he states.

“You got a real thing for droids, don't you,” Cara observes. Jesla sits quietly as she waits for Mando's response. She wondered if he would tell Cara why he hates them.

“I got a real thing for that droid,” Mando replies, gesturing to where IG-11 had walked out.

Cara side-eyes Jesla as her brows knit together. “The Ugnaught said he rewired it,” she reminds him.

“That droid was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced, it goes against its nature,” Din spits out angrily. Jesla's eyes soften as she continues to watch him, knowing exactly how he felt about the topic.

Shooting Jesla another look, Cara stands up. “Well, shouldn't be a long job anyway. You take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats,” she says before she leaves the cockpit.

A sigh escapes Mando's modulator as he turns to look at Jesla from over his shoulder. “You should go eat. We still have a while left until we get to Nevarro,” he tells her, pressing some buttons on the control panel.

Jesla nods as she stands up, placing her weapons in her seat. “I'll bring you up something,” she says before she too descends down the stairs into the hangar.

Din turns to look after her, another sigh leaving his lips. He wasn't sure how he felt about his new friend. She was a lot like him in some ways, but there was still something that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

∞∞∞

After what felt like forever to Jesla, Mando finally lands the Razor Crest on the deserted surface of Nevarro. Everyone, except for IG-11, mount on the blurrgs and exit the ship, meeting Greef Karga and his three associates outside.

“Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando. But things have gotten complicated since you were last here. It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail,” Greef Karga observes as his eyes scan over Jesla, Cara, and Kuiil. His eyes land on Jesla's MK-modified rifle strapped over her shoulder. “I guess you were the sniper that took out some of my men that night,” he puts together, his hands going to rest on his hips. Jesla just gives him a once over as she proceeds to not respond to him.

Karga realizes that he isn't going to get anything out of her and turns his attention back to Mando. “Now, where's the little one?” He questions as he looks around for it.

Mando moves the floating crib towards him. Greef opens it and his eyes widen as they land on the Child. “So... this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about,” he takes the Child out of the crib, “what a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't wanna harm a hair on its wrinkled little head.” He gives him a once over before placing him back in the crib. “Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all.”

Din calls the crib back to him. “The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell and camp out on the river bank, then make our way into town at first light,” Karga informs them before turning to lead the way. Din looks back at his new friends, following Karga with them right behind him.

Once night fell, they all decided to set up a makeshift camp for the rest of the night. One of Karga's bounty hunters had put a piece of meat over the fire to cook. Jesla watches as Kuiil feeds the Child, the members of Karga's group eyeing each other suspiciously.

“I guess the little bugger's a carnivore. Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie,” Greef comments, looking at Mando.

“Let's go over the plan again,” Mando says, stirring the conversation back to business. That was, as always, Mando for you.

“We both enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table, and you kill him,” Karga explains simply with a shrug.

Jesla turns to face both Greef and Mando. “What about his reinforcements? Surely he's upped his security since last time,” she points out. She knew how these Imperial officers worked.

A look of surprise briefly flashes across Karga's features. “No more than four. He travels with, at most, a fire team. Trust me, nothing could go wrong,” he tells her as he gets up and grabs the piece of meat that was over the fire. Jesla shook her head. That didn't sound right.

Suddenly, a winged creature swoops in and grabs the meat out of Greef's hands. Everyone goes into a frenzy after that. They all start shooting at the dragon creatures, Mando closing the crib to protect the Child. Dragons start grabbing blurrgs, even one of Karga's bounty hunters.

Another dragon attacks the Mandalorian, both Jesla and Cara shooting it to get it off of him. He luckily fights it off by blasting it with fire. After that, the remaining dragons disappear. It's not until then when Jesla and the others notice that Greef was badly injured.

Cara immediately springs into action, checking Karga's arm where the dragon ripped it open. “This is bad. The poison is spreading fast,” she informs them as she spills out the contents of her med-pack. She gives him a shot, but it doesn't seem to help.

Jesla watches as the Child walks up to them as Cara frantically tries to help Karga. Everyone watches as the Child places his hand over his wound, Jesla tilting her head in curiosity. The Child's face relaxes as Greef's wound closes, immediately falling asleep right after.

Din looks up at Jesla, watching as emotion after emotion flashes through her eyes. He wasn't sure what was going through her head. It was obvious that she didn't know that the kid was capable of doing such a thing, let alone herself.

∞∞∞

The next morning, they all set out to continue their trek to the town. Jesla walks behind the group, the events of last night still fresh in her mind. She absentmindedly watches Mando and Cara converse with one another in front of her, but she didn't hear anything that they were saying.

Her eyes drift to the crib that was floating beside Mando, the Child hidden in it. She wondered how he did it, if she could do it. Did she have the ability to save so many people that were dear to her and she didn't even know?

The Mandalorian looks back over his shoulder, seeing Jesla lost in her thoughts. With a nod to Cara, he falls back to walk beside Jesla. She didn't even notice his presence until he spoke to her.

“Did you... know that he could do... whatever that was?” He asks her, looking straight ahead. He himself was still surprised at the new information.

“No,” she answers shortly. She didn't mean to be short with him, but her emotions were starting to get the best of her. Jesla knew that she was overreacting, but she couldn't stop the guilt that was slowly taking over her.

You could have saved your brothers. You could have saved your master.

Din sees the internal conflict going on inside his partner. He wasn't sure what he could say to make her feel better. He didn't know how to talk about these things, wasn't trained to do it. His mind drifts back to the time of his life before the droids attacked. His mother would probably know what to say in this situation, so would his father.

He opens his mouth to say something, but is stopped when Karga and his men halt ahead of them. “I guess this is it,” Karga announces to the group.

Before either Din or Jesla could register what was going on, Greef suddenly spins around with his two blasters and shoots his two bounty hunters. He then immediately raises his blasters in capitulation as the others train their own blasters on him.

“There's something you should know. The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night I couldn't go through with it. Go on, you can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe,” Karga quickly explains to them.

“We'll take our chances,” Cara tells him, her finger on the trigger.

Karga's eyes widen slightly as he tries to save himself. “The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you? Listen. We both need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the Child to him, and then you three--”

“No.”

“Let's just kill him and get outta here.”

“He's right.”

Both Cara and Jesla shoot Mando an incredulous look. As he lowers his blaster, Jesla sighs before reluctantly following suit. What was going through his head?

“As long as the Imp lives he'll send hunters after the Child,” Mando points out. Jesla knew that he was right, but she also knew that this whole thing could be a trap.

“Bring me. Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him, and I'll kill him,” Mando tells Karga. Now he was being insane, especially when he handed Karga his blaster.

However, Jesla knew how stubborn this beskar cladded man could be, so she knew that there was no way he was going to change his mind. “Well, I'm coming with you,” she states, Cara also jumping in.

“No, no, no. That would make them suspicious,” Karga opposes as he shakes his head in disagreement. Both Jesla and Cara shrug, not caring less.

“Tell ’em they caught me. I have a plan. Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the Child and seal yourself in. When you're inside, engage ground security protocols, and nothing on this planet will breach those doors,” Mando orders, turning to face Kuiil.

Kuiil nods as he walks up to him. “Here's a comlink. I will keep the Child safe,” he turns to Cara, “don't forget to cover your stripes,” he reminds her. He then takes the Child out of the crib and hops on the remaining blurrg, heading in the direction of the Razor Crest.

Mando hands Karga his handcuffs, Karga placing them on him as Cara covers her tattoo with a piece of fabric. Jesla made sure to take off her hood and mask, anything to hide her real identity from the Empire. They didn't know her face, only her name.

“Let's go.”

∞∞∞

The group walk up to the entrance of town, greeted by Stormtroopers standing guard. Jesla tenses up once she sees them, subconsciously trying to hide as she stands on the other side of the Mandalorian.

Greef produces his ID card for the Stormtrooper to scan his chain code and they continue on their way. More Stormtroopers march pass them and Cara comments on how Karga said there was only supposed to be four.

“Four guarding the client. Many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safe house.”

Once they finally get to the common house, the door opens to reveal the Imperial officer and four Stormtroopers. Jesla didn't recognize the officer, but then again, she didn't really pay attention to them.

“Look what I brought you. As promised,” Karga greets the officer, gesturing to Mando. Cara and Jesla share a look before looking back at the client.

The client approaches them, caressing Mando's beskar armor. “What exquisite craftmanship. It is amazing how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans. Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?” He asks, looking back at Greef.

Karga nods and shoves Mando to sit in the booth, Cara and Jesla standing beside the table. The officer also sits as more Stormtroopers enter the building. “It is a shame that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable. Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire improves every system it touches. Judge by any metric. Safety. Prosperity. Trade. Opportunity. Peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside. Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos,” he rambles before adding, “I would like to see the baby.”

“Uh...it is asleep,” Karga fibs, glancing over to the pod.

“We all will be quiet. Open the pram,” the client orders as he reaches for the pod. Luckily, a Stormtrooper comes over and whispers something to him, making him halt his movements. “Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call,” he apologizes before walking away.

Mando takes the opportunity to loosen his cuffs under the table. “Gimme the blaster,” he whispers to Karga. Greef obliges as he sneakily hands it to him, making note of the extra Stormtroopers.

“This is bad. You said four,” Jesla whisper yells, her eyes scanning over the multiple Stormtroopers. However, she knew they could most likely take them. It would just cause a big scene.

“Well...there are more. What can I tell you?” Greef replies gruffly, both Jesla and Cara rolling their eyes.

All of a sudden, the client goes down as blaster shots are fired through the window, peppering inside the common house and killing everyone inside, except for the outlaws. Once the shooting stops, they all move out of cover to both sides of the window. An Imperial firing squad sits outside, another transport of Stormtroopers arriving.

Cara turns to Karga with a glare. “Four Stormtroopers?”

Din takes out his comlink, bringing it close to where his mouth would be. “Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? Are you there? Do you copy?” He questions frantically.

“Yes!”

“Are you back to the ship yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Get back to the ship and bail! Get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!”

Jesla tenses up when her eyes land on a TIE fighter landing outside. Her fingers itch towards her lightsaber hidden beneath her cloak as a man exits the TIE fighter to stand in front of the common house. She knew if she used it, she would be on the New Empire's radar. Was she ready for that?

“You have something I want,” the man states aloud to them. Jesla looks him up and down, not recognizing him. Who was this guy?

“You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of. But you do not,” the man continues. Was he talking about the Child?

Looking to Mando, Jesla sees him trying to get through to Kuiil. “Kuiil, are you back to the ship yet? They're on to us. Kuiil, come in!”

“In a few moments, it will be mine. It means more to me than you will ever know.”

“Kuiil... Are you there?! Come in, Kuiil! Kuiil, come in! Kuiil! Are you there?! Do you copy?! Kuiil! Kuiil!”

When Kuiil doesn't answer, Mando looks over to Jesla and she can feel his desperation. This was not going well.

××××××

@living-that-best-life

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Darkwing Duck Reviews: Darkly Dawns the Duck Pts 1 and 2

It’s a Darkwing Double Feature! Just in time for his ducktales special, I take a look at the introduction of everyone’s favorite Daring Duck of Mystery. In his daring debut we meet Darkwing Duck, an egositical and attention hungry superhero who soon finds himself having to look after a feisty orphan to keep her from getting nabbed by local kingpin of crime Taurus Bulba with the help of his biggest fan. Darkwing owns the night under the cut with decades old spoilers.

Let’s Get Dangerous.. is tommorow so with that in mind i’m doing a darkwing double feature to refresh myself before the big special. So i’ll be covering both the original series pilot “Darkly Dawns the Duck” and the ducktales reboot episode “The Duck Knight Returns”. Let’s Get Dangerous Itself because I was so wiped yesterday I didn’t get the other review done and unexpectly got acess to the new episode way earlier than usual so i’d rather focus on that. Got it? Good. Let’s continue past me.

As usual with a new show a breif bit about my history with it: I watched it years ago, as a friend of mine lent me the first two discs of the season 1 dvd and never found the third one nor asked for them back, nor cared I had them. I thoughtly enjoyed it, had a great time and then it took me a decade or so to actually watch the series again due to a combination of being too stubborn to just buy the season 1 dvd again, a very darkwing move of me in hindsight, and then when disney plus meant I had all episodes at my finger tips I.. sat on them till now.. though to be fair i’ve sat on a LOT of great shows on there including the mandalorian, gargoyles and boy meets world. I have a bad tendency to procastinate, the fact this is coming out so late in the day should be a giveaway. I did read about half of volume 1 of the comic and all of volume 2, so there’s that at least. Point is this new episode finally made me decide to get off my ass and watch darkwing once again, starting with the pilot and the episodes related to the fearsome four to be ready for tomorrow to see what the differences are (Thoguh I did remember bushroot vividly, so I had that at least). Something to note before I get started talking about the pilot itself though, is the episode order for Darkwing Duck is a Darkwing Clusterfuck. Now I do understand WHY they aired this way: While some episodes do logically take place after other episodes, you can reasonably pop on just about any darkwing and watch it and enjoy it with minimal need to know what happened in previous episodes, kinda like batman the animated series oddly enough. It was also aired between two networks so on some level I get disney’s confusion here.. but on the other hand it’d take ten minutes, they clearly can call up the creator easily as Tad Stones made a cameo in ducktales 2017 we’ll get to so they could easily get a better order from the creator himself, so they really don’t have an excuse for this, or for slapping the pilot in the middle of season 1. Then again both ducktales 2017 and x-men the animated series were sort of a mess order wise when first put up, so not giving a shit about where episodes are placed for re-watching clearly is a pastime of theirs.

Now i’ve got that out of my system we can dive into the episode itself and a breif plot synopsis. Darkwing Duck is the superhero protector of St. Canard, a masked vigiliante who takes out crime but wishes he actually got fame and credit for his work. Kind of like Booster Gold but without taking endorsments or as far as we know coming from the future. He also has nothing else as shown by the fact he fights crime, does a training regimine to prepare his breakfast that’s a delight to watch then prepares to sleep. It’s an intresting concept, a hero who HAD a civlian identity once, as the rest of the series would play out, he just no longer needs it. And it’s also ahead of it’s time as batman would explore this idea both seriously with bruce wayne murderer and comedically and seriously with the lego batman movie LONG after this series aired, meaning the writers here figured out what many probably knew about batman and put it into their parody version: Batman is the real identity and Bruce is the mask. Batman only keeps his old self because the bruce id is useful to him: It keeps people away from his company, puts up a playboy facade that draws attention away from him being batman, and allows him to do various charities and what not and help honor his parents in a way that dosen’t involve swooping in and kicking people in the throat. And as seen with bruce wayne murderer when the option to throw bruce away for good came up Batman gladly took it. This is the same idea: Drake Mallard ONLY cares about crime fighting, has no friends no family, we never do find out jack about his family hopefully if there’s a full reboot series Frank and Matt fix it for their version. He has nothing, and is fine with that. He hasn’t really had a reason to care about anything else than his own glory and works alone not because it’s less efficent but because his oversized ego means he dosen’t want to share credit. IT’s an intresting start and his ego would be a defining bit of who he is and used intrestingly int he reboot but we’ll get to that there.

His life changes forever though when local crime boss Taurus Bulba unleashes his latest scheme: To steal the Ramrod, a gravity manipulating device created by the late Dr. Quackmeyer.. late because Bulba’s men killed him and were dumb enough not to get the arming code for the ramrod first a year ago. Bulba is also behind bars but in one of my faviorite gags of the episode despite the warden’s constnat gloating, Bulba has taken the “Supervillian makes jail into a base” Or “Jail is nothing to a supervillian who can easily get out trope” to ludcrious machines. He has whole meetings with his minions, keeps the ramrod once he gets his hands on it in the laundry and has a ship SHAPED LIKE HIS FACE built into his cellblock. I’ts just so over the top it’s glorious. But yeah since Bulba can’t go after it at first he sends his three goofy minons, one played by eddie “Mandark” deezen in.. love that guy.

THey do end up stealing the ramrod thanks to the help of bulba’s cool, non-anthromporhic condor who he uses as his right hand man and as his link to his minons via a small tv aroudn it’s neck. That.. is awesome. Darkwing spots the condor but fails to stop the three stooges or the condor and gets unknowingly blamed for the robbery..and stopped to get glamor shots not realizing the guy thought he was a criminla which.. fair enough. It is a shadowy disguise after all.

Darkwing ends up grabbing onto the vulture sonic 3 style, but ends up falling off him into a hangar where we meet the original version of Launchpad McQuack, whose apparently quit working for scrooge and has his own hangar now though it wouldn’t be a stretch that scrooge bought it for him.. he does , stingy as he is, appricate hard work and launchpad wanting to start his own buisness and while hte planes were probably all on launchpad, Scrooge would gladly buy a run down buliding for a loyal friend who wants to put in some hard honest work. Plus it’s a free place to store any vehicles he has in the st canard area.. I mean it’s still scrooge. And yes I know the whole “Tad stones said they aren’t the same universe” non sense. I do have the utmost respect for the guy and he seems really, nice but I don’ tlike that, no one likes that and both the comics and the current duckverse with the ducktales reboot entirely ignore that for good reason.While the two shows are diffrent in tone they stil lfit and it’s not a stretch for launchpad to want to spread his wings or failing that scrooge to help push him out of the nest and give him his own buisness or one of scrooge’s to run.

But while Launchpad does help DW with a propeller plane they fail and while launchpad offers to be his sidekick, DW gives him the old I work alone bit. However him being alone won’t last for long as Bulba still needs that arming code and since his only lead is Waddlemeyer’s grandaughter who grew up in his lab, he sends his buffonish minons to go get him. Why he never sends his lone female minon with them is because it’s funnier if she dosen’t I guess. Which it is so fair enough. So thus we enter Goslyn, who the head of the orphanage is fed up with due to her antics. Goslyn is played as most of you knwo by christine cavanagh.. I honestly forgot and it still throws me off a bit she’s using what would later be her chucky finster voice for a character so completely diffrent. Granted it’s not unusual in voice acting, just weird here and only for me personally having grown up with rugrats but not darkwing. The orphanage head is a bit less jarring as she’s played by Marcia Wallace, aka Edna Krabable from the simpsons but A) that show was already running at this point and B), the character is basically a nicer version of edna versus chuckies voice coming out of a tiny if immensly fun to watch hellion. I do like goslyn, sh’es a fun character even in her shadier moments, it’s just something i’d forgotten about i’ll need to get used to is all.

Bulba’s hired goons come in claming ot be friends of her grandpas and we actually get some really heartwrenching context for Gos’ behavior: While she does act out she actually LIKES THE orphanage.. ti’s just her friends keep getting adopted while no one wants someone “full of spirit”. It’s heartwrecnhing to hear.. and only gets worse when the goons try and kidnap her. Thankfully Darkwing.. also kidnaps her, but he kindaps her from kidnappers and while Goslyn naturally takes a second to realize he’s the good guy them shooting at him clues her in. Darkwing, in a rare for the series as a whole moment of reason and not wanting to just power though something himself TRIES to do the responsible thing and leave gos with the police where she’ll be protected.. but given they think he’s a wanted criminal they shoot at him.. and the small child in his motorcycle. Yup that’s the police alright.

So with no other options Darkwing takes gos home, hyjinks insue including her activintg the breakfast thing. But the two genuinely start to bond. While Darkwing dosen’t WANT to keep her around, the whole not wanting connections thing, it’s clear he’s growing fond of the little snot as she holds her own with his trianing course, they have a tickle fight and in the sweetest moment of the episode the two sing little girl blue, a song her grandfather used to sing her to sleep that she teaches darkwing. It’s an utterly heartmelting bit and Cummings and Cavanagh really sell the hell out of it. It also however turns out ot be plot relevant: Turns out just in case Dr. Waddlemeyer hid the code for the ramrod in the song, and when Darkwing sees a photo Goslyn got from bulba’s goons, he realizes this and realizes that depsite thinking she didn’t know it Goslyn had it all along.. and that as long as h’es around she won’t know. Bulba is naturally livid at his minons failure and decides now’s the time to take this into his own hands and while he actually liked the prison hq setup, as it did make sense as it was the perfect cover and the warden was too full of himself to realize Bulba was still active and too convinced the bull was beaten down when he clearly wasn’t, but instead as mentioned above awesomely converts his cellblock into a flying ship in the shape of his own head. Bulba.. is a great villian and I only think the show didn’t use him more because he’s a dead serious, deadly dangerous villian in an otherwise goofy but fun superhero parody show. The show later gained Negaduck, so they had a more dangerous threat for darkwing that fit the show’s tone better while still being utterly terrifying, and likely simply didn’t need him till the idea for the steerminator came up. But I love the guy: he reminds me a lot of the kingpin, a threatning villian who uses his sheer size to beat our hero down, is cool and suave and is an utter mastermind at planning. He also wears a nice suit. And naturlaly he has a plan to take out darkwing since despite the two never having met, as Darkwing disparages when Goslyn assumes their lifelong mortal enmies like in the comics, they know of each other.. and thus bulba knows exactly what trap to spring to get him out of the way and goslyn into his ship: He flashes a message in morris code that he wants to surrender to Darkwing while stroking his ego a LOT. And it works... while i’ts an obvious trap Darkwing’s so full of himself he goes despite Goslyn telling him it’s very obviously a trap. Naturally everything goes pear shaped as a result: Bulba shows up, revealing gos not only to be right but easily pummling Darkwing. Which makes sense: While Darkwing is a vetran crime fighter and secret agent, Bulba’s been at being a villian longer clearly as he’s built up enough of a rep both for Darkwing to know him out of hand and for the warden to be proud capturing him. Given what univese this is, it probably isn’t Bulba’s first round with a superhero and given at this stage St Canard only has one.. yeah Darkwing is outclasssed and the police grab him while Bulba scarpers. And while Gos puts up a good fight using the trianing course, Bulba’s vulture gets her. Bulba has everything he needs. Darkwing meanwhile actually bemoans what a dick he’s been, that the first person he’s cared about besides himself in possibly ever is now in the hands of a murderous mastermind, and that he’s stuck in jail with no one to call on for help. Thankfully.. help arrives.. and by help I mean launchpad backing the ratcatcher, Darkwing’s bike, into the prisoin. He DID come just to bail DW out despite his earlier jerkishness, but backed in and Darkwing not beliving superheroes have time for paperwork, decides to just bust out. And to be ifair int his case he’s probably right as you know, a ten year old might die if they don’t get there in time. So off they go.. but with Bulba in the air they need something with wings to catch him. ANd luckily as Launchpad mentioned earlier he’s been working on something special for darkwing. It’s with this we enter the thunderquack, which is DW”S awesome headshaped plane. It’s just cool it’s got a nice design, goofy enough tof it the universe but cool enoguh to still be fun to watch. Darkwing has really damn cool vehicles, as the ratcatcher is also awesomely iconic. But yeah the thunderquack impresses darkwing and rightfully so and he decides to make LP his sidekick afterall. So now our heroes fly into the danger zone and attack bulba’s airship with Darkwing landing on the bow and a scuffle insues with darkwing and hte minons.. who use actual guns which for a 90′s kids show is a suprise, especially one this intentioanlly goofy, but boy is it nice. However Bulba, being awesomely evil, isn’t dumb and instead of fighting darkwing, which he could win but would win him nothing and having gotten nothing out of goslyn, figures the hero might know the code.. and while Darkwing lies and says he dosen’t, Bulba points out .. he’s right.. but he’s always been a gambling man and has his condor drop goslyn to lure drake into telling him , with DW putting in the code and bulba testing it with a bank robbery.. before predictably having his condor drop the girl because he no longer needs her. Thankfully launchpad catches her in time and then they get revenge on the condor with the thunderquack BITING IT.. which is awesome. Hopefully the reboot version does that.

Darkwing meanwhile saves the day, his new daughter and the city by simply sneaking over to the ramrod and mashign the keys till it overloads, silly, but undeniably awesome and effective. Bulba TRIES to finish off darkwing this time for foiling his plan.. btu the ramrod explodes and while bulba’s minons and goslyn and launchpad are safe... bulba and darkwing are apparently dead and it’s effective. A few weeks later Goslyn’s back at the orphanage utterly distraught and broken at being basically orphaned again. Naturally though Darkwing’s alive, having taken his old identnity back since now he has something worth using it for and adopts her, hinting at who he is so she goes with him. And Drake has changed.. sure he’ll still be as egostical and impuslive as he was here.. but he’s no longer just darkwing.. he’s drake again as he has someone worth fighting for.. two someones in fact. He has a friend, a loyal partner to help him fight cime. And more importantly.. he has a loving daughter. And both needed each other: Goslyn needed someone who understood her despite her manic energy, and Drake needed someone who needed him and not darkwing, a reason to be a person outside the cape and cowl and outside the attention again. He needed a reason to live again... and he’s got it. And it’s going to be great.

Final Thoughts: This pilot is excellent. Well paced, plenty of laughs, tense action and great introductions for everyone involved as well as a hell of a vilian> This is how you do a first episode: it introduces the main themes of the show, both comedically and dramatically, introduces the cast and gives us a one off , or rather two off it’d turn out, villian whose compelling and intresting. IT’s really damn good stuff and I can’t wait ot see what frank does with a simlar story tommorow. Until then, stay safe, and happy hallowen. We’ll be back shortly for The Duck Knight returns and then Let’s Get Dangerous tommorow.

#darkwing duck #reviews #ducktales #darkly dawns the duck #drake mallard #goslyn mallard #launchpad mcquack #tarus bulba #the disney afternoon #the 90's

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ryder-s-block · 5 years ago

Text

Jaig Eyes (Ch 49)

Jaig Eyes (49/?)

Summary:

Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she’s involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

————————-

Chapter Forty-Nine: Beskar

“Kida!” I heard one of my regulars cry from his table. “Welcome back! I haven’t seen you in months!”

I cast him a smile as I walked by dressed in my club outfit--black tight pants and a sparkling off-the-shoulder shirt that flowed down my arms to cover my slave brand. My face felt weird covered in makeup, but my friend, Rouva--who most people called ‘Madame’-- insisted that she be in charge of my look.

Apparently my return to my Corsucanti club, Fury, was a big deal. It was true, I hadn’t been there in months. And when I had, it was always discreet since I was under the impression there was a bounty on my head.

“Nice to see you,” I greeted nicely, motioning for Merl to get them a round of jokes, much to their glee. They broke out in cheers as Merl brought some ale over to them for free.

“I like the hair,” Rouva mentioned as she sauntered towards me, catching glances from all sides. She was a Twi’lek, much like some of the girls I employed, with pale violet skin that practically sparked in the lights of my club. Despite being older, she was still lithe and beautiful. Her long fingers playfully bounced my hair that she had curled nicely. “It looks good on you.”

I gave her a smile as she walked away, heading to the back to prepare the next performance the girls would put on. I moved to the bar, leaning against the polished surface and accepting the drink Merl slid to me. Spiced rum. My favorite. I took a long drink, hearing the music shift as some of the girls took the stage for the next set. My club’s patrons applauded as they took the stage, dancing in perfect synchronization. They didn’t practice every day for nothing.

And then my senses rippled, drawing my attention to the door. I wasn’t the only one, since there was quite a ruckus.

“Sir,” I heard one of my security guards yelling from the door. “I don’t care what business you’re on, we don’t allow weapons in here!”

I glanced over, seeing a familiar face I wasn’t necessarily hoping to see again for some time. I watched as Windu reluctantly gave over his lightsaber, drawing more eyes. There were a couple off-duty clones, all who fidgeted uncomfortably in their corner at the jedi’s arrival.

Windu didn’t seem bothered by the attention, slowly entering the club and glancing around. I stayed in my place, leaning against the bar, as his dark gaze finally found me. He approached, immediately earning a hard hand on his shoulder.

“Now what’s all this then?” a Rodian patron said, stepping between myself and Windu. “What’s a jedi doing in here? Causing trouble with our girl?”

Windu’s face crinkled in distaste, brushing off the Rodian’s hand. I rolled my eyes where I leaned on the bar. “It’s alright,” I said loud enough for them to hear me. “I’m sure he’s not here to cause trouble.” My loyal guests backed up, but watched closely as Windu approached me. “Care for a drink?”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding slightly. I was surprised at that, but gestured for Merl to pass a drink down the bar, which he did reluctantly. My friend knew my issues with the jedi and didn’t much care for him.

“Pretty bold of you to come here,” I commented, taking another casual sip of my drink. “There’s a lot of underworld in my club, most of which know your name.” He knew I was referring to his slaying of Jango, making him glance away and take a drink. “I assume your visit isn’t to enjoy my club.”

“No.”

He said nothing else as he stared into his drink, making my brow arch. “So…” I prodded, tilting my head at him.

“There’s been an incident,” he started hesitantly, keeping his voice low to keep it between us. “Is there a more private place we could talk?”

I hummed, glancing over him. “Forgive me for not trusting you, but I feel more comfortable out here where my friends are.”

Windu frowned at me, but leaned against the bar in resignation. “You still hate me for what I did to Jango,” he surmised.

“Hate you? No,” I sighed. “I’ve decided to let that go. But I also know that you disarmed him before killing him. And I know that isn’t really the jedi way.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring into his drink. “Maybe it wasn’t.” I was surprised at him admitting it, making me gawk at him. “But that’s in the past. Now, I’ve been sent here to request your help.”

“My help?” I frowned, crossing my arms. “I already turned down Obi-wan’s invitation to rejoin the Republic armies.”

“I’m aware. But this is a special circumstance.” He hesitated to continue, making me sigh. I pushed off from the bar, grabbing my drink and heading to the back of my club where my private lift lay hidden.

“Come on, Master Jedi,” I called over my shoulder. “We can speak in my office.” Eyes followed us as we exited the main floor, Rouva hustling to get another number going to try and distract the crowd.

“So this is where you conduct your business,” Windu commented as we entered my study, the one way windows looking out over the club floor. He looked over my patrons and workers. “Do they know?”

“Some of them,” I shrugged, glancing over the beskar armor on display in the corner. “But I prefer to keep my work lives separate. Though,” I commented, giving the man a look. “Jedi constantly clogging up my doorway certainly isn’t helping with the discretion.”

Windu hummed, but jumped right to it. “Do you know the name Even Piell?” I shook my head. “He’s a talented Jedi Master. He was sent on a mission some time ago to the Outer Rim in search of information about the Nexus Route.”

“The Nexus Route?” I repeated in shock, leaning against my desk. “I thought that was a myth.” I knew what he was talking about. It was a fabled route that provided a covert route between Separatist and Republic homeworlds. It was constantly sought after by smugglers and bounty hunters alike, but I’d never seen it used, nonetheless heard of anyone actually knowing it.

“I assure you, it’s not a myth. He has the information.”

“But?”

“He and his men were captured by the Separatists.”

I frowned, taking another drink of spiced rum. “Jedi get captured all the time,” I shrugged. “Why is this any different? Send someone after him and get him back.”

“This time is different. Early on in the war, the Federation took control of the planet Lola Soyu.” I’d seen the planet on maps. It was in the Outer Rim. “This planet held something that was built over 500 years ago--a prison meant to hold Jedi.”

I quirked a brow. “A prison for Jedi? So even the Republic doesn’t trust you.”

“It was built by Jedi,” he clarified with a scowl. “For the unthinkable problem of a jedi turning against the Republic.”

“Didn’t Dooku defect? Why wasn’t he locked up?”

“He left the Order,” Windu sighed, steering the conversation back on track. “This fortress, called the Citadel, is supposed to be inescapable and impregnable.”

I crossed my arms. “So what is it that you want me to do? Smuggle you in?”

He mimicked my stance, finally looking straight at me. “If you have any ideas, we’re open to hearing them.”

“So this is a consultation deal?”

“I thought that is all we would need, but Kenobi and Skywalker requested your assistance in the execution of the plan as well.”

I frowned. “Is it insurance that I don’t screw you over on purpose?”

“Is that something we need to be worried about?”

“Of course not,” I shook my head. “Besides, I’ve been looking for another job. Will this one pay?”

Windu sighed, looking tired. “Handsomely.”

“An impenetrable fortress that even the Jedi can’t get into without tempting fate?” I spoke aloud, smirking. “I always enjoy a challenge. When do we leave?”

“Immediately.”

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

My fingers slid gently over the ingot of beskar I’d kept stashed in my ship for years. It was one of the few Jango gave me before helping me forge my armor.

“Beskar in the hands of a Mandalorian, adi’ka,” he would explain while working the hot furnace. “Is art.”

He’d left me the last piece to create my helmet, when the time came. He said the helmet was an honor, and a burden. That it was something I would one day forge on my own, should I decide to follow that path.

“What is it you need forged?” the blacksmith before me asked. She was a Mandalorian, as all beskar forgers should be, clad in her helmet.

“First,” I said softly, despite being alone in her shop. “I need to discuss discretion.” Her helmet tilted, but she offered her first, in which I placed a significant number of unmarked credits.

“What is it you need forged?” she asked again, her silence now bought and paid for. I placed the ingot down before presenting the plans I had drafted up. She examined them for a moment before looking at me again. “I will not create this.”

“I already bought your services, Armorer,” I said sternly, putting on my tough expression I used while bounty hunting. “And your discretion.”

“It is bad enough you wear our armor,” she retorted from her seat. “But I will not taint Mandalorian steel by forging a lightsaber.”

“It’s just the sleeve,” I argued. “And it’s been done before.”

“That blade was forged by Tarre Vizsla. A Mandalorian. And then the Jedi betrayed us.”

I drew my pistol, aiming it at her, but she didn’t move. “I am not a Jedi,” I growled. “And you will forge the steel my father gave me.”

She glanced over my armor, taking in the red design and kyr’bes on the shoulder pauldron. “Your father,” she mused. “You honor him with your armor. Did he forge it for you?”

“Yes.”

“And this, was this meant to be your helmet?”

I sighed, putting my pistol away again. “Yes.” I knew it was a bit of a betrayal. The beskar meant to complete my armor would be used to forge a weapon used by Force-Wielders...something Mandalorians hated.

“What would your father think of your choice to use it like this?”

I breathed slowly. What would he think? I couldn’t ask him… “He would trust me,” I said finally. “And he would trust the honor of a fellow Mandalorian to care for the one he called daughter.”

She was quiet for a moment, flipping the beskar ingot in her hands. “And do you have the rest of this weapon?” I hesitated, but produced the lightsaber hilt. The kyber crystal, however, was on my ship. I didn’t want her igniting the blade to find it red. She turned it in her hands, along with the beskar. “What is wrong with this as it is?”

“It’s not my creation. It must be my own. Must...reflect me. Like my armor.”

A hum hissed through her helmet’s modulator. “And what will you wield this weapon for?”

I thought over that. What would I use it for? Peace certainly wouldn’t be an answer she’d like. “To fight for what I believe in. For my family. For myself.”

“You are not a Mandalorian,” she allowed. “But you were certainly raised by one. Swear to wield this weapon with the honor of a Mandalorian, and I will grant your wish.”

“I swear.”

She stood, leaving me to watch as she worked, melting down the ingot and creating a mold for the hilt I designed. It was a basic design that fit my hand nicely, but nothing too fancy. I figured I might add some color to match my armor at some point, if I ever got to wield it comfortably.

But still, as time dragged on, I began to wonder what the Armorer could possibly be doing. The design was pretty simple, so why was she adding an extra plate near the emitter that folded around it? Realistically, I liked the look a lot, so I said nothing.

After some time of working closely over the finished hilt, she turned and presented the sleeve to me. I took it, not at all expecting what I got. She had etched into the hilt, creating beautiful patterns. There were two creatures swirling on the metal--one that looked like a dragon, the other a bird.

“A mythosaur and a Jai’galaar,” she explained, seeing my questioning look. “I’ve heard stories of you, young daughter of Fett. I know of the marks he bestowed upon you.” The Jai’galaar. The Shriek-Hawk--a terrible creature of Mandalore. And where the Jaig eyes symbol stemmed from.

“And what does this say?” I asked, glancing over the writing I recognized, but couldn’t read. It was in Mando’a, but also using the old Mandalorian alphabet--something I never learned.

“Aliit ori’shya tal’din,” she translated for me, returning to her seat. Family is more than blood. I stood slowly, a lump of emotion forming in my throat.

“Thank you, Armorer,” I said sincerely. “This is a great honor.”

She tilted her helmet at me. “Beskar, in the hands of a Mandalorian, is art.” Her words stunned me for only a moment before she rose, cueing my time to leave. “Use this weapon wisely, young Fett. And it did not come from me.”

“Of course,” I bowed my head, stashing away the beskar sleeve and my ancestor’s lightsaber. I turned, knowing that so long as I kept her involvement in the creation of the sleeve a secret, she would return the favor.

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

“Fett,” I heard, drawing my from my thoughts as the shuttle landed. I turned to see Windu stepping off the ship. “Let’s go.”

I followed, stopping short when I realized what landing pad we were on. “The Jedi Temple?” I questioned, looking up at the towering structure. “I thought you didn’t allow outsiders in here.”

“We do. On restricted access.”

I hummed, rolling my eyes before following him inside. It was just as beautiful inside as it was outside, if not more. The whole temple was filled with gorgeous windows, courtyards, and pillars. It was like a palace.

We walked through, catching a few glances when the roaming younglings saw my beskar armor that I’d donned before leaving my club. We entered that looked eerily familiar. It was the place I’d seen in my vision all that time ago, when they were debating my future.

“Go ahead,” Windu said at the door, letting me walk in alone. The door closed behind him as I took in the room. Kenobi and Skywalker were both there, along with Cody, Fives, Echo, and Plo Koon. Rex’s stature shimmered as a hologram from wherever he was. Likely at a command center or aboard their ship.

“Welcome, Kida,” Obi-wan greeted with a small smile, his fingers tapping his chin. “You’re right on time.” I nodded to those present, receiving them in return, before standing beside Skywalker.

Plo Koon brought up an image of what I assumed was the citadel, the tower turning where it was projected on the holotable. “As you are aware, the Citadel is their most isolated and impenetrable detention facility,” he explained to the room. “No one has ever escaped.” Well...I did have a way of getting myself into impossible situations, didn’t I?

“There’s a first time for everything,” Anakin shrugged beside me.

Obi-wan agreed. “Indeed there is.”

“Their security has prevented our probes from retaining recent reconnaissance,” Plo Koon interjected. “So we’ve been forced to construct a crude map based upon data from the archives.”

“And since the data is extremely old, the map will be difficult to rely on,” Obi-wan expressed.

“500 years is a bit more than extremely old,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “We’re practically going in blind.”

“Beg your pardon, General,” Rex finally spoke, but avoided my gaze from behind his helmet. “But how do we know Master Piell is still alive?”

Kenobi smirked. “The Separatists won’t dare kill Master Piell until they have what they need.”

I jumped in casually. “He supposedly has the coordinates for the Nexus Route; a hyperspace lane that connects both Republic and Separatist homeworlds.”

The room seemed shocked at my knowledge, but Kenobi continued anyways. “They could provide vital for moving our forces deep into remote Separatist sectors.”

“Or,” Anakin countered. “The enemy could use them to slip through our defenses and attack Coruscant.”

“These hyperspace lanes are of immense interest to both our sides and could tip the scale of the war to whomever is in possession of them.” Plo Koon glanced around at us before ending the briefing. “That is all.”

The clones departed immediately, Rex’s connection cutting out. I wasn’t sure who to follow until Skywalker bumped my shoulder. “Come on, bounty hunter,” he teased, leading me after the other Jedi.

“Based on the archive schematics,” Plo Koon explained to us. “We’ve narrowed it down to three possible locations they could be holding him at.”

“My greatest concern is infiltrating their outer security,” Kenobi countered. “The life-form scanners will not be easy to fool.”

I let out a small chuckle, making them look at me. “Sorry,” I apologized. “I just had a really crazy idea but…”

“Please, let us hear it,” Kenobi grinned.

I cleared my throat. “Have you considered carbon freezing?” They all paused, looking at me with shock. I shrugged at them. “Hey, do you know how hard it is to bring in a bounty when you have more than one target? My brig is only so big.”

Anakin hummed. “It would hide us from the life-form scanners.”

“It could kill us,” Kenobi countered.

But I only chuckled, waving my hand. “I mean, it isn’t pleasant but none of my bounties have died yet. And they’ve been carbon frozen way longer than we would have to be.”

“Master!” We all turned at Ahsoka’s voice, watching her race to catch up with us. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She gave me a nod in greeting before continuing. “I just heard about the briefing. We’re going to rescue Master Piell, right?”

Koon and Kenobi exchanged awkward glances. “You two have much to discuss,” the former said, leading Obi-wan and I away from them.

“What was that about?” I asked when we were far enough away.

“Ahsoka isn’t coming on this mission,” Obi-wan explained.

That was a surprise. “And why not? The more help we have, the better, right?”

“Anakin isn’t comfortable bringing his padawan along,” he tried to reason as he led our way to the hangar. “It’s terribly dangerous.”

“Well it’s good to know you don’t mind me coming,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “But then again, Ahsoka seems perfectly capable. And isn’t she old enough to decide when something is too dangerous for her?”

“As her master and teacher, it is Anakin’s decision, whether or not anyone else agrees,” he dismissed before gesturing for me to enter the hangar. I obliged, leaving him to wait for Anakin.

“And you said you wouldn’t be coming back,” Fives teased as I approached the two ARC troopers.

I shrugged, easily donning a smile. “An impossible mission that’s probably going to get us all killed was just too enticing to pass up. I’m glad I’ll have you guys to watch my back.”

“Same here, kid,” Echo chuckled at me.

We all turned as we heard C-3PO griping after R2, who was leading three battle droids painted in 501st blue. “Don’t you go thumbing your gears at me just because you have a bunch of dim-witted droids following you about. Oh! Really,” the translator turned away to shuffle from the hangar, obviously annoyed by R2 having his own little assault group.

“We’re trusting those droids to get us into the Citadel?” Fives asked in a hushed tone, glancing at Cody.

“It’s the only way,” the commander stated. “We’re flying right into the heart of Separatist territory. Droids won’t be detected.”

“And how won’t we be detected?” Echo asked.

I cringed slightly, remembering my suggestion. “It won’t be very fun, but we won’t die,” I tried to reason, earning looks from the clones around me.

“What did you do?” Fives sighed.

“I made a suggestion. A good suggestion, by the way.”

“Which is?” Cody asked, glancing at me.

“Carbon freezing.” I was met with groans and worried glances, making me chew my lip in an attempt not to laugh at them.

“R2,” Anakin called as he entered the hangar with Obi-wan. I suppose his talk with Ahsoka had concluded. I doubted the padawan took it well. “Make sure they don’t stray from the flight plan.”

“It’s all under control, sir,” one of the reprogrammed battle droids responded over R2’s beeping.

“I was talking to R2,” Anakin scowled before walking past them.

I stayed where I was as everyone prepared to leave. It’s not like I had anything to do. I was in my gear and fully armed. So instead, I watched them, eyeing Ahsoka as she left Plo Koon’s side to join me.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I greeted as she approached with a contemplative look. “They apparently don’t value me enough to want to keep me from danger.”

“Or they value you enough to know you can handle yourself,” she responded grumpily, leaning against the speeder I stood beside.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why doesn’t he want you to come?”

“He thinks it’s too dangerous. But shouldn’t it be my choice when and how I put myself in danger?”

She certainly had a point. I sighed. “One would think so.”

“So you agree with me that I should be on this mission?”

I looked into her big cerulean eyes. “I’d love for you to come on this mission. I think we need all the help that we can get. And I think your master is being a bit over protective.”

“That’s what I said!” she claimed, exasperated.

“Wait,” I cut her off, giving her a look. “But I also don’t think he’s going to budge on this subject.” She scowled, but quieted as Obi-wan walked by, flanked by the rest of the crew going on the mission.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded at him, stepping away from Ahsoka as everyone else made their way to the carbon freezer. “So you’re saying I should stay here?” the padawan called after me.

“I said he wouldn’t change his mind,” I said over my shoulder with a smirk. “I never said you should stay, though.” I gave a meaningful glance to the carbon freezer, earning a slow smile from her as she understood.

Did I want her getting in trouble? Of course not. But if having her along meant we were less likely to die? Hell, I’d take the punishment for her.

I followed the others up onto the mechanism, finding my own circle to stand on after telling the clones to remove their helmets. The last thing they wanted to do was suffocate under those things if anything went wrong.

“Nice to have you along,” Rex said quietly as he moved past me, casting me a small smile. Still, he seemed apprehensive in the Force. Like he knew how dangerous this was and didn’t want me getting hurt. Or him getting distracted.

“Are, uh, we sure this thing is safe?” Fives asked as he examined the machine. “I don’t want to end up a wall decoration.” I chuckled darkly, knowing that he didn’t get the full extent of his joke. I’d seen that happen before. Jabba found it hilarious.

“Try to relax,” Obi-wan assured from the platform next to mine. “We’ll be unfrozen as soon as we arrive.”

I did my best to do as he said, despite my own apprehensions. I knew it wouldn’t kill me, but the people I threw in a carbon freezer never seemed to enjoy it, either. I folded my hands, closing my eyes as the alarms began to blare, the machine whirring. The platform beneath me descended, lowering me into the tube.

I took a deep breath, knowing what was coming, trying to balance myself. I would be falling asleep in the temple, only to wake up in a war zone. I let myself be assured by my own abilities, my armor, my companions, and the beskar hilted saber I had stashed in my belt pouch. And then the jets engaged, filling the tube with impossibly cold air. It was like being thrown into an icy river...and then falling asleep.

I wondered briefly if this is what death felt like before losing consciousness.

#fanfiction #fanfic #Fanfc #star wars #star wars the clone wars #oc star wars #star wars oc #captain rex #rex x oc #captain rex x oc #rexxoc #rex #jango #jango fett #Daughter of Jango fic #Anakin Skywalker #obi-wan

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spectraspecs-writes · 5 years ago

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Taris - Chapter 34 (Bastila)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 33. Chapter 35

A/N After reading some kotor fanfics, seeing how they worked with fight scenes, the characters, and other parts of the world, and after writing some post-game fic of my own, I think I have a better handle on how to do this so it’s not quite so tedious. Because it was tedious for a while there and I didn’t enjoy it.

Plus I didn’t realize how much I liked shipping Bastila and Canderous until I read someone else who shipped it, so now I’ve hopped on that bandwagon.

***

When we step out of the Sith base, I half expect to find a battalion pointing their blaster rifles at us. But surprisingly, there’s nobody here. Like nobody saw us go in and nobody sees us come out. Creepy. Not that I’m complaining. I give T3 a little pat, and he chirps happily. I love my droid.

I get a weird vibe off Bastila. Right, right, she wanted to talk to me. “Hey, Bastila,” I say to her, “Something on your mind?”

At first she looks a little bewildered - how could I know? - but that quickly fades from her face. “Yes, there is,” she says, "I would like to know what happened after you crashed on Taris. I'm curious as to what you and Carth were doing before we all joined forces.”

“Before we rescued you, you mean,” I say playfully.

Bastila puffs up a little. One day. One day she’ll play back. “I managed to free myself, as I recall,” she says protesting, because she obviously can’t tell I’m playing. Yes, she got the restraining collar off herself, and out of the cage. While I would have figured it out eventually, the fact remains that she did it herself. And she probably would have done it if I wasn’t there. I know that. I know she’s capable. But if we can’t have fun with this, then what’s the point? “In fact,” she adds, “if I hadn't been there Brejik and his thugs might have killed you in that fight. It's probably more accurate to say that I rescued you.”

Now, if she was playing with me, I’d be more than willing to let that go. But she’s not playing with me, she’s quite serious. “You didn’t escape the Black Vulkars until I arrived, as I recall,” I say, mirroring her own words.

She sighs at me, sounding a little exasperated. T3 just laughs a little, and Bastila fires a sharp glare at him. “I'll admit,” she concedes, “I probably wouldn't have been able to free myself if not for the brawl after the swoop race. I guess I should thank you for that, at least.”

“I can’t take credit for that,” I say, “You can thank Brejik for being an ass. He would have done the same to anyone using the accelerator, it had nothing to do with me.”

“Actually, your presence at the swoop track is what I'm curious about,” she says, “You seem to be interested in challenges of skill, hence your prowess in the dueling ring. Can I assume that your entrance in the swoop race was yet another of your endeavours to waste time?”

Bastila, don’t make me hate you, don’t be a bitch. Chill out, Rena, just chill. Forget about it. “Swoop racing isn’t my thing, really,” I say, doing my best to forget the insult to my coping mechanisms, “I did my best to not be involved, but Gadon insisted I ride the modified bike. I wouldn’t have been involved at all if I hadn’t heard you were there.”

“I see,” she says. Does she sound genuinely impressed to you? Maybe it’s just the Force sensitivity she suggested I have and seems to have forgotten about. “It couldn't have been an easy task to find me there. Yet somehow you managed.” I think that’s the closest she’s gotten to complimenting me. “You also avoided detection by the Sith, discovered I was a Vulkar prisoner, gained sponsorship for the race, and became the Taris swoop champion. That's quite a resume.”

“Don’t forget Taris dueling champion.” I was going to duel Bendak, but honestly, I’m just ready to leave. Bastila blusters a little at my mention of dueling, but lets it go. “And it’s not like I was alone, either,” I say, “Carth and Mission were a huge help.”

“Your modesty is admirable,” she says. No, that’s the compliment. “But though others helped, you were the catalyst for these events. When you were chosen to join this mission, I doubt any of us expected this much from you.” Aw, shucks, ‘tweren’t nothing. “A Jedi could have done such things, of course.” Of course. “But only by drawing heavily upon the Force.”

“Yeah, earlier you said I could be Force-sensitive?”

She balks a little. Yep, she didn’t forget about it. “Did I?” she asks rhetorically, but I nod anyway, sporting a smug little grin that she ignores, “The Force works through all of us to some degree or another. There are some individuals outside the Jedi Order that are Force Sensitive.”

“As apparently I am, you said.”

“In any event, it is obvious to me that the Force has been working through you. There is no other explanation for your great success, though I am not certain what to make of this discovery. Perhaps if you weren't–” She stops, trying to think, and I look at her expectantly. “-- well, if you were younger the Jedi might take you for training. But as it is…”

She stops again. Unreadable - I have no idea what she was about to say. “I'm sorry,” she says finally, “I've overstepped my authority.” Wait, what? “I'm speaking of things that are best left to the Jedi Council. For now let's just accept the fact that you are… gifted. Hopefully between your abilities, my Jedi training and the skills of our companions we can find a way off this planet.”

“Don’t forget Canderous,” I say, “He said he could get us a ship.”

“Ah, yes,” she says, like she’s displeased but I don’t buy it, “The Mandalorian. Have you met him before?”

“Once or twice. He doesn’t seem at all pleased to be working for the Exchange. I’d wager he feels like he’s cleaning up other people’s mess.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Enough to go along with his plan,” I tell her, “Besides, I had a feeling we’d need him to get off the planet.”

“A feeling?” she repeats, “And you trust these feelings?”

“They haven’t steered me wrong before,” I say with a shrug, “Probably your Force again.”

“Perhaps. Once we leave Taris, we should consult the Jedi Council. Events have transpired that I think they’d like to know about.”

Well, that doesn’t sound weird at all. It’s like cryptic is just a Jedi thing. Granted, Bastila’s the first Jedi I‘ve met in person, but you hear stories. Whatever. We’d better get to Canderous in the Lower City.

#star wars #knights of the old republic #Star Wars knights of the old republic #kotor #fiction #specs writes stuff #fem!revan #ls!revan #rena visz #oc #bastila shan #t3 m4 #taris #canderous ordo #chapter 34 #kotor fic

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mi6021poppyhodgson · 2 years ago

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Dissertation Ideas.

Initial ideas:

· Puppetry?

· Backgrounds

· The feelings associated with being lost.

· The dark mysteries of horror literature – H.P. Lovecraft / Edgar Allan Poe / Hideyuki Kikuchi.

Stop motion films

I feel with Most of these ideas that I could really research and understand them, the processes, and the elements within that relate to animation. However, I feel like most of them are quite generic and common research areas in the film industry. I could research into them and find an area of which I want to continue and adapt into a dissertation, but first I want to relate my personal attachment to these suggestions presented.

Stop motion films:

Stop motion films for myself have been a common influence in my life. We have Aardman Studios who create many stop motion entertainment for children’s programs and films such as ‘Shaun the Sheep’, ‘Timmy Time’, ‘Wallace and Gromit’, ‘Robin Robin’ and many more.

Aardman isn’t the only stop motion studios I enjoy, other films I take much inspiration from include: The little Prince, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Coraline and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. This Limited group alone show the great diversity of types of Stop motion as well as the contrasting genre types. I’m a great fantasy / horror lover so I would love to delve more into the Tim Burton area of Stop Motion.

But what question could I ask myself about stop motion? What would be an inspiring motion to follow for this film area?

What defines a stop-motion film?

What scales of stop-motion rigs are there?

Backgrounds:

Backgrounds are an important part of films in my opinion. They help identify the time of day, Era, Genre, Season, and other important elements that can be identified separately from the main story line. This is an interesting topic as they have introduced live backgrounds in series such as the Mandalorian. This is where they have huge screens on set that react and show real time locations in time with the acting.

I feel like It would be interesting to research into the meanings and hidden symbology in backgrounds. Or to research how real life locations can be used to influence and aid the process of world building. The above shot of the Millennium Falcon is actually filmed where I live, so it’s amazing to see how they’ve taken some basic shots of my town and changed it into this beautiful wild planet scene.

How can we use real locations in the compositing of backgrounds for films?

Is using a real location true imagination in film?

Puppetry:

The one type of film that I must say is my favourite is Classic Puppet films. Labyrinth, The Dark Crystal, The Never Ending Story, The muppet movie, Alien and Star wars are a selection of my favourites. Even Harry potter had Puppets in it!

I think its the attention to detail in the puppets design that draws me to these films, for set expressions to be able to show a multitude in a small movement shows the skill these designers have. I find it really interesting however that do we call puppetry animation? Is the movement of these in-animate objects manipulated by hidden people counted as a style or type of animation? Or is it just its own subject?

This really excites me to think of the potential of research I can make in this field and what other experts think.

Can we classify puppetry as a form of animation?

What differentiates Puppetry from stop-motion animation?

Feelings of being lost or found.

A common theme that I’ve seen in films / games and other entertainment productions is the underlying story of ‘finding something’ or ‘being lost’. Why do we as an audience feel so connected to that feeling? Is it the sense of celebration and adrenaline in finding the answer / source / missing thing, or is it the grief and empathy of loosing something / someone / hopelessness. It has always peaked my interest that these two contrasting elements invoke such a powerful feeling with us.

Emotion to me is the best way to get something to connect to an audience. We will feel the emotions that are relatable to us most in production and maybe that’s what drives us to either hate or love a piece of work. A film wont provoke a great response if the audience feels nothing, there will be no connection or emotion towards it. However, a film that pushes the boundaries of our emotions could also push people to hate or love it. I believe connection to the audience is vital to push the reality of the story line, the possible truth of it being a real thing.

Why must we evoke such strong emotions in film?

Why do we as an audience enjoy the intense feelings manipulated by film?

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loopy777 · 2 years ago

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star trek in modern times, is even worse than disney star wars. And thats completely disregarding the actually good parts like the rebels final season and mandalorian. Its miles worse than Rise of Skywalker. Like i genuinely got sick reading an interview of the making of picard, and the writer basically saying that the title character, who wanted to save billions of innocent lives, was the same as a colonialist supremacist, because he(A white man) tried to save an entire setient race from planetary destruction because... Well basically because he was a white man trying to play the role of a "savior", and so deserved scorn and mockery for believing they needed his help(And they did, the vast majority of them fucking died with their planet, when his higher ups essentially told him and his humanitarian efforts to go fuck themselves). Basically he was the one guy who stuck to his principles and the ideals of basic human decency and wanted to actually try and help, and the writers thought he was a colonialist for even trying to do so. And thats just ONE of the many, many, MANY terrible bits of writing from modern star trek.

GENERAL WARNING: I AM ABOUT TO SPEND THIS ENTIRE POST UNFAIRLY AND UNRELENTINGLY DUNKING ON ALL THINGS STAR TREK. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL PAST AND ENJOY YOUR DAY IF THAT WOULD UPSET YOU.

I dunno, that sounds exactly like Star Trek Next Gen to me. A lot of those episodes try to be all Metaphor about some social issue, aim for Center-Left in their politics, and somehow only end up hitting "no one should ever use transporters for anything."

Keep in mind, this is my list of all the good (non-reboot, non-Paramaount+) Star Trek stuff:

"The Trouble with Tribbles"

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

Yes, this is the entire list. But I admit I haven't seen everything, just all the classic movies and random samplings from the various series. Yes, that includes "The Wrath of Kahn" and "The Best of Both Worlds" Neither really grabbed me.

But I'll give Star Trek this: "The Trouble with Tribbles" lived up to all the hype and was spectacular. The DS9 follow-up, sadly, seems to have been made after everyone involved in the franchise forgot what comedy is; I could see that episode striving to make a joke, but it could never quite get its hands on the right ingredients.

Anyway, @thekingofwinterblog continued with:

Like the stupid animated goofy spin off that is pretty much a rip off of rick and morty is unironically the best that modern Star Trek has tonoffer, and thats… Pretty sad.

But I hear that a lot of people like Rick & Morty, and I've even heard that it contains some actual real scifi concepts. (I've not seen it myself, and my understanding is that the fans are insufferable.) So it make sense that ripping R&M off would make the best Star Trek. I mean, there's a reason Star Trek started on a major television network, shrank down to a more obscure network, and then eventually died. Maybe it should have chased trends and/or tried to be real scifi earlier. It's why I'm so confused why anyone thought that Star Trek could be a draw for Paramount+, beyond getting the die-hard Starfleet-uniform-owning super-fans as a guaranteed audience.

But even if they're making weird extremist arguments for what they're doing with all the new Trek (and I admit I'll a little doubtful that your summary is capturing the full message), at least there's an attempt to put some kind of perspective into the story. Junk like 'The Rise of Skywalker' is terrible partially because the only meaning to be derived from it is what's there by accident. There's no coherent voice to it. It's pure derivative mush, poisoned by panicked attempts to please the worst kind of fans.

So being bad for reasons besides being boring garbage is actually doing fairly well for Star Trek. I applaud the new writers. XD

Sorry. If it sounds like I'm being really harsh to Star Trek, it's because I am. ;) I've never understood the appeal, beyond finding that the original Kirk/Spock/Bones dynamic could be enjoyable to watch if it wasn't buried in super-boring hour-long trudges. My brother loves to watch reruns of the various series, but it's never done anything for me when it isn't being a full-on comedy and/or ripping off Star Wars.

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thepermanentrainpress · 5 years ago

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RECAP: FAN EXPO VANCOUVER - FEBRUARY 15-17TH, 2020

Fan Expo Vancouver first started in 2012. Part of the larger Fan Expo Canada brand, the event is now held over three days and attracts tens of thousands of people every year.

I have attended every single Fan Expo Vancouver since it began. In comparison to other Fan Expo events such as the one in Toronto and recently-acquired Fan Expo Calgary, I have noticed a slight decline in programming. Compared to previous line-ups and comparable guest lists at other conventions, Vancouver just does not deliver the same experience. The guests we get are great, and it’s not easy to coordinate everyone’s schedules. But having been in place for almost a decade, I would like to see this Fan Expo offer more programming, activities, and guests. Other conventions grow every year, but Vancouver’s seems to remain stagnant.

In past years, the panels at Fan Expo were held in rooms upstairs, separate from the main exhibition hall. In 2019 and this year, the panels were all held in side areas on the showroom floor. This did give the advantage of not having to travel far for each panel, and being easy to enter or leave. I was able to check out parts of different panels at the same time or wander in and out while exploring the maze of booths. However, it did create a distracting noise issue—it was hard to hear the panelists even with mics against the sound of thousands of people exploring. This was particularly an issue with the smaller panels that were very close to high-traffic areas and/or places with specific activities happening, such as the family zone. I understand there are probably financial reasons behind this change, but I was not a fan. It created more convenience, but made the panels less enjoyable.

Another noticeable disappointment was the lack of a coat check. They had one in earlier years but have stopped for some reason. This was especially irritating in the middle of February when it was cold and rainy for most of the weekend. The Expo has always been held in a cold month – November, February, March, and April – and as next year’s event has already been announced for Feb. 13-15th, 2021, I sincerely hope they bring back the amenity. It would really beat carrying around a heavy bag and/or coat all day, especially if you’re wearing a costume or just bought something large. Why discourage shopping?

I still had a really fun time exploring and checking everything out at Fan Expo. There are no other places in Vancouver where you can meet Darth Vader and Iron Man on the same day.

The first panel I caught was that of the iconic Brendan Fraser. Currently on Doom Patrol, Brendan is best remembered – especially if you grew up in the early 2000s – for movies like The Mummy, George of the Jungle, and of course, Looney Tunes: Back In Action. He was an unexpected and much-anticipated headlining guest this year, and his panel was the most full I saw all weekend. He brought a great deal of charisma to the Q&A portion, whether it was discussing Looney Tunes (“Bugs is great… but Daffy Duck is an asshole!”) or delivering a spot-on John Cleese impression when reminiscing on George of the Jungle.

I next saw a small, rather interesting discussion called Ritual: Exorcism in Film and Television. As a big horror fan, this was my personal favourite panel of the weekend. I really like seeing horror as a genre represented, as well as panels that don’t revolve around specific fandoms/IP. It was hosted by Morgan Knudsen, a real-life paranormal researcher. Morgan began by discussing popular possession and demon movies like The Rite, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, and of course, The Exorcist. She then told us of real-life cases that inspired these films and the facts of what really happened. We watched videos and listened to recordings of people who had undergone actual exorcisms and were allegedly possessed. Morgan emphasized studying the evidence and coming to our own conclusion on these cases. Some of the information and especially the voices I heard made me question what was real for sure.

Madelaine Petsch, who also attended last year and is best known as Cheryl Blossom on Riverdale, was another Q&A with a huge turnout. Many of her fans also enjoy her social media and vlogging. She spoke about fond moments on the show, things she enjoyed about Vancouver, and her favourite local vegan eats. Madelaine is very charming, warm, and funny in her live interviews—definitely a convention highlight for myself and I’m sure many others.

Christina Ricci was a surprising but very interesting addition to the lineup. As a child actress, she’s seen just about everything in Hollywood. This led to a lively discussion of her beginnings, evolution into more serious roles, and all the people she worked with along the way. Recalling her small but memorable part working with Terry Gilliam in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, she said “I had Benico del Toro whipping me with a towel and Johnny Depp’s foot in my mouth, and Terry and Johnny both telling me to bite harder… and I thought, this is my life now.”

The final big panel of the day was a Star Trek: The Next Generation reunion with LeVar Burton and Marina Sirtis. Any Trek actors are always a draw, and this was quite a popular panel as well. Although Marina has been to Fan Expo in the past, LeVar quipped that it had been decades since he’d been to this city. “The last time I was in Vancouver, Alan Thicke was still on TV.”

Although I was unable to attend Sunday, the day was filled with activity and celebrity panels. Highlights included Q&As with Smallville’s own Superman Tom Welling, The Mandalorian’s Giancarlo Esposito, cult film legend Bruce Campbell, The X-Files’ William B. Davis and Nicholas Lea, and Oscar Nunez and Brian Baumgartner of The Office.

On Monday, I checked out Geeks vs Nerds – a live debate where two groups square off on a particular aspect of pop culture. In this case, it was who’s cuter: Baby Yoda or Baby Groot? There was a series of arguments and rebuttals, often punctured with impressions, insults, and singing to heighten the geeky atmosphere. The winner (narrowly, Baby Groot) was decided by audience applause. This was a very lively and hilarious show that attracted a wandering crowd—who could resist the cuteness of either of those aliens?

As always, there was a large assortment of booths, with exhibitors from all over Canada and even internationally. All sorts of collector’s items were for sale – comics, action figures, clothing, artwork, and even weapons. The Artist Alley featured a variety of creators selling their own prints, commissions, jewelry, plushies, and more. Adjacent to Artist Alley were rows of comic creators – professional artists in the industry, meeting fans, selling books, and even doing sketches.

One of the most prominent (and recurring) attractions was the Vancouver chapter of the 501st Legion – dedicated Star Wars cosplayers. Running a large charity booth, fans could get photos with stormtroopers, Darth Vader, Kylo Ren, BB-8, R2-D2, and other iconic characters. At one point they led a large, ominous march through the expo halls, as if the whole place was under invasion by the First Order. There are lots of cool costumes at this convention, but these people really commit.

There were lots of cosplay meetups throughout the day from a variety of fandoms, and even a red carpet! It was by far the best place to get some great photos as a cosplayer or observer, and to show off and meet with like-minded fans. Everyone enjoyed this, but especially the children. My favourite part of every Expo is seeing kids get pictures and high fives from superheroes or other fun characters, especially when the kid is also dressed up.

New to this year’s event was Podcast Alley, an area of booths and live tapings for local podcasts and their hosts. Guests this year included Warriors Bards ’n Brews, Fear of Science, Let’s Talk About Myths, Baby, Dark Poutine, Drinking and Screaming, Geeks vs Nerds, and Politicoast. There were even workshops on the nature of podcasting and how to create one yourself. I think this was a great way to bring in some local talent and introduce fans to new podcasts, or even to the medium of podcasting in general.

Also in its inaugural year was the “Family Zone.” This was a wide open space with areas for kids to play in; one place had giant cardboard blocks. The Sorting Ceremony – a Harry Potter-themed activity in which kids could find out their Hogwarts House via a talking “hat” (person in a costume) – took place here. There was also a few “Dance Parties” complete with pop music. As a young adult with no kids, I was probably not the target audience for the Family Zone. It was very popular throughout the weekend with children, and I think parents enjoyed it. But as the floor was already crowded – especially with the panels being hosted there – I did feel it took away space from potential exhibitors, stores, and artists. It’s good to give kids (and their parents!) a place to hang out, but I don’t think it did much for the majority of attendees.

I finished the day with live improv by The Fictionals. The staging was hosted and led by Daniel Chai, who also led many of the panels throughout the weekend. Using traditional improv methods (audience suggestions and the classic “Freeze!” exercise), the group finished the convention with extremely spontaneous laughs.

Overall, it was another successful time at Vancouver’s largest fandom convention. There are definitely aspects I’d like to see changed and improved on in the future. Still, it’s one of my favourite weekends of the year and I’m excited to see what’s in store for 2021!

Written by: Cazzy Lewchuk

#Entertainment #Review #pop culture #Cazzy #Cazzy Lewchuk #Vancouver #yvr #Fan Expo #Fan Expo Vancouver #Vancouver Convention Centre #FAN EXPO HQ #fandom #fxv

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talkstarwars · 7 years ago

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Our Star Wars Legacy - Guest Blogger Jared Peppard

One of my earliest and happiest memories is my parents renting out Star Wars on VHS from Blockbuster’s; my mind was blown and I was hooked. From then on, I soaked up anything and everything Star Wars, devouring the comics and books. Growing up we didn’t have a lot of money at all but from a young age my Mum always made sure that I had the latest issue of the Dark Horse comic series and the newest of the young readers Jedi Apprentice books. My pride and joy was a ‘The Phantom Menace’ teaser poster which I still have up on the wall today! (I was only 9 when the first of the prequels was released so yes, I do love the prequels!)

For me personally, the comics have always been my favourite stories in the Star Wars Universe including the films, I used to spend hours arranging and re-ordering my collection and I loved the different alien characters that would make one-off appearances or just pop up here and there playing their small parts in the galaxy. I had it in my head that I wanted my own character, one of the many I used to imagine, to make an appearance in an issue (a Mandalorian Jedi, a Tusken Raider Bounty Hunter ect. I was only 10 or 11 but you get the idea). Being a time before social media and us not even owning or having access to a computer I wrote to Dark Horse or Lucas Film to see if they liked any of my ideas and to my surprise... I had no reply. Looking back, I’m not even sure if the letters had stamps or got posted but still, I was disappointed.

Fast forward 5-10 years and I now had a younger brother (15 years younger!), Theo. The best thing that could of happened to me, though that wasn’t my first reaction to finding out I was going to have to share my room with a younger brother. I loved having a younger brother who I could teach about Star Wars! Theo and myself are more into sport and music and have never really been into comics in general, super heroes, sci-fi films or anything similar but something about Star Wars just has us captivated. It was great re-exploring the Universe with my younger brother after a few years away. We watched all of the Clone Wars series together, played the video games (Battlefront & KOTOR), read a lot of the comics and books together and of course used to binge on the films regularly.

When I was getting married and moving out I knew it would be hard for my brother leaving him with 3 sisters so he used to stay over as often as possible and he would always bring me drawings or short stories he’d done of characters that we’d made up. Seeing as Star Wars meant so much to both of us I wanted to do something really special that we could both share together and I had an idea. I researched the current on-going Star Wars comic series and one in particular caught my attention, Star Wars Legacy Volume II. We were still reading through the first Legacy series and was really enjoying it so I wrote down the names of the authors and then googled their names to try and find a contact number or address. I couldn’t find any numbers or addresses but found the author of Legacy Volume II Corinna Bechko’s Twitter. I tweeted Corinna and asked if she had an email address I could contact her on, she kindly replied so I emailed her. I explained how me and my brother were fanatic Star Wars fans and I wanted to do something special and wondered if in one of Legacy’s issues Corinna could maybe combine our names 'Jared' & 'Theo' (Ja'Reo, Thared?) for a minor character which would just make us apart of the Star Wars Universe in some way. I patiently waited and then Corinna replied that she would love to give us a cameo, but unfortunately our email found her the same day that she found out about Marvel taking over the Star Wars license and that the series was to be cut short and wrapped up in 18 issues. I was disappointed but completely understood the situation. Then, another email from Corinna, ‘I certainly haven't forgotten about you guys! I think I've got it fixed up’! but Corinna understandably didn’t want to make any promises. And then a month later, a message from Corinna, ‘Check out the very last issue when it comes out... number #18. "Thared" is an Imperial Knight :)’! I was of course over the moon with Corinna’s kindness and couldn’t wait (only 6 months). Corinna did say though that a last minute edit out of her hands could possibly change the character so I decided to keep it a surprise for Theo in case it didn’t happen, I didn’t want him to be disappointed. Having read ahead of Theo I was already up to date with the series which was up to issue #10 but I had started to read through the first trade paperback story arc with Theo, not telling him that we could be a part of it. I also brought 2 Stormtrooper themed folders, 2 packs of plastic comic book wallets and ordered 2 copies of every issue of Legacy Volume II and even managed to get the 2 variant covers (one being signed by Corinna and co- author/artist/husband Gabriel Hardman) as well. Over the next 6 months I continued to collect 2 of each issue and put them in the folders (keeping them well hidden from Theo) and just kept reading the trade paperback versions as they were released.

Finally, the week of issue #18 was here, the last Star Wars comic of my era (Dark Horse) and the furthest point in the old Expanded Universe’s timeline. I had told my Mum and we had arranged for Theo to stay over the weekend where I would surprise him with the folder of the entire collection of the Legacy Volume II series including issue #18 with our character ‘Thared’. Being 5 hours ahead in the UK the night of the comics release I couldn’t sleep, (partly nerves and excitement, nerves that a last-minute edit might have taken Thared out and excitement that me and brother might actually be a part of the Star Wars Universe!). I woke up early at 5am (the time of the comic’s online release), logged onto my Dark Horse account, downloaded the comic and started to read. Second page in and there he was, ‘Master Thared’! I can’t explain how happy and emotional I was. That day I went to my local comic book shop who had promised that they would have a copy on its release day ready for me, I picked one up (as I had 5 on order!) and explained the story to the excited shop workers who asked why I was so keen to pick up this particular issue.

After picking Theo up from my parent’s, I told him that as usual I had some Star Wars comics for him and as usual he was excited to see them and start reading through. When I brought out the folder I could see the surprise in his face as he repeatedly thanked me; I explained how I had collected every issue of the series in this folder for him but the last issue wasn’t in there. He said thanks again and not to worry because we could wait for the last issue to complete the collection. I then told him that I had spoken to the author and had told her how it would be a dream come true to have a Star Wars character named after us, he was amazed that I had spoken to the author but still didn’t quite know what I was getting at. I then took issue #18 out of the bag and told him that I had the last issue and that the author had very kindly named a character after us! I showed him and for the first time in as long as I can remember he was speechless. He then gave me a big hug and told me to thank Corinna. Theo now has the comic book framed up on his wall where I used to hang my ‘The Phantom Menace’ teaser poster.

We even got to go and meet Corinna and Garbriel at a comic book signing in London where we got our comics signed and Theo got a personal sketch by Gabriel. For both my brother and myself it was a dream come true to be made a part of the Star Wars Universe that we love so much and we will always be grateful to Corinna & Gabriel for their kindness.

For me Star Wars will always be the George Lucas/ Dark Horse era so being a part of the last issue is that much more special. Even though I won’t be following the new EU as closely as I did the old I look forward to seeing more Star Wars in the future and hope to see Corinna & Gabriel back in the Universe in the future....

#Star Wars #Star Wars Legacy II #Corinna Bechko

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ryder-s-block · 5 years ago

Text

Jaig Eyes (Ch 25)

Jaig Eyes (25/?)

***THIS CHAPTER RATED M FOR MENTIONS OF PAST RAPE***

Always can read here.

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Chapter Twenty-Five: Threat on the Coronet

I remembered everything about the day Death Watch had attacked the transport. The rattling of the ship beneath my boots--sand so far imbedded into them, I’d long since given up trying to get it out. The deep booms that echoed down the halls as the attacking ship pried open our access hatches.

Screams tore through the air when we lost pressure, creatures and droids being sucked out into space. I’d been lucky enough to be within a part of the ship that had safety latches close. I grabbed a young Rodian boy--a slave, like myself-- and pulled him into a supply closet. Jabba’s minions were swarming around, trying to defend against the force that had already crippled our engines.

It was a surprise attack. I’d been on the bridge with the trip’s leader--a surly Weequay with a bad attitude--translating between him and our Bothan contact. The proximity alarms were high-pitched and deafening. By the time they went off, though, it was already too late. The transport shit Jabba had provided for us was far from battle-ready, preferring swift movement and stealth over cannons and shields.

We were doomed from the start.

The young Rodian boy clutched at my waist as we cowered in the supply closet together. I wasn’t sure what to do. Jabba had tracers on all his ships, but would that be enough? If the beacon died, his search party may not find us. Or perhaps, despite how much he claimed to value me, maybe the resources needed for my rescue weren’t profitable. I considered staying hidden, hoping that we wouldn’t be found. But what if the ship was destroyed? Maybe death was better than whatever tortures the attackers had planned.

Looking back, maybe it would have been.

Warriors dressed in the dark Death Watch armor hadn’t given me any ability to choose my fate, ripping open the closet door and dragging us both out. The Rodian boy was beaten for wailing, having not yet learned to take the punishments without opening his mouth. He was young, used for grunt work in the kitchens in Jabba’s palace. Jabba had sent him along to try and get him more accustomed to the life of a slave.

For his sake, I hoped he learned fast.

A man appeared where we were all held in the hallway, strewn with the sparking remains of the defensive droids. There were some bodies, too, but I chose not to look at them. Chose not to feel. What were slavers’ lives to me? Still, I knew if I looked, I’d either betray myself with tears, or tremble in fear.

I prefered to do neither.

The man that entered the hall, peering at us all through his dark visor, was certainly in charge of the militant group. They spoke in a harsh tongue to each other, my language-keen ears recognizing some of the sounds. I’d rarely ever heard it, since the man I’d heard it from rarely ever spoke. There was a man in armor that nearly resembled those of the warriors before me. Jango Fett. He was a renowned bounty hunter, often running jobs for Jabba, who respected him greatly. He usually spoke the common tongue, and when he did, it was brief and to the point.

But once, while scuttling about in the darkness of the back halls, I’d rushed around a corner and slammed into the hard panelling of his knee braces. Slapping backwards, he almost looked like he was about to reach for me and help me up. He stopped himself. Whether it was out of a sense of superiority or the knowledge that Jabba allowed no one to touch me, I couldn’t say. Nor did I really care. His emotionless mask, strong posture, and spotless track record of bringing in bloodied bounties made me wary of him.

He mumbled something to the open air, his voice modulated through his helmet, but it certainly wasn’t common. I didn’t know what he said for years, later piecing it together to be something along the lines of “damned kids running around everywhere” and “watch where you’re going.”

At the time, though, I couldn’t understand an ounce of Mando’a. But I’d pick it up quickly after being dragged aboard the Mandalorians’ ship, the group dividing those of us that remained.

“You,” a male voice said, the figure approaching and gripping my chin harshly in his hand. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen,” I answered immediately, mentally slapping myself. I wished I wasn’t fed well at Jabba’s for a moment. Wished I looked like I did when I was a street urchin, or even back when I was with the Zygerrians. I was waif-like. Small. I could pass off as younger then.

The warrior hummed within his mask. “Tell me, girl,” he chuckled. “Have you bled yet?”

Thinking clearer now, I feigned confused innocence at his question. We all did. None of us aboard Jabba’s transport were pleasure slaves, apart from the three that were being delivered to our Bothan contact. But we would be, we all came to realize in that single moment.

“They’ll make do,” the leader sighed as he walked by, shoving my head down as he walked by. He went on to sort us between slaves they’d keep for their own means, whether it was pleasure, labor, or sadistic means. The rest were to be turned around and sold to fund their cause...whatever that was at the time.

The moon they brought us to was chilly and rocky, but also blossoming with newfound life. Their camp was made of tents and unused ships. I wanted to escape on one for some time. But for the first time in my life, it didn’t take long for me to break.

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

“Don’t I know you?”

His voice was like ice sliding under my skin, my hair rising on the back of my neck. I didn’t respond, trying to keep my focus on saving the duchess, Merrik, however, saw me clench, smiling deviously.

“You do, actually,” he said with a smirk, glancing at Vizsla’s hologram. “This girl is Kida Fett. She claims to have been enslaved at your camp once, years ago.”

“Fett?” Vizsla seemed surprised, his helmet tilting to look at me closer. “I wasn’t aware that he had a daughter. If he did, I didn’t have her here.”

No one responded, Merrik chuckling darkly. “She seems to know you very well,” he implied, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I did my best not to tremble as Satine struggled. “Stop it,” she pleaded with as much fierceness as she could muster. “You monster!”

Vizsla hummed from his hologram as I silently willed Obi-wan to move his ass faster and get here. “You’re not a legitimate child, are you?” I didn’t answer, of course, still staring down Merrik. “No,” he surmised, chuckling as it likely started to click for him. “You were that girl he took as payment from us, weren’t you?” He snapped his fingers, remembering now. “The translator from the Hutt’s ship. Or should I say,” he laughed now, my eyes averting from Satine’s pitiful gaze. “Pleasure slave.”

“If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, it won’t work,” I warned, forcing myself to look back at Merrik and steady my shaking hands.

“No,” Vizsla teased, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “I know how to get a rise out of you, don’t I?” he implied, my stomach twisting. “Do you remember?”

“Let her go, Merrik,” I said, still ignoring the hologram. “Before I lose my patience and shoot you.”

“A bounty hunter, now?” Vizsla continued. “Look how far you’ve come. Though, unfortunate end for your father, no?” His hologram turned to follow me as I moved opposite of Merrik’s walk across the bridge. “I do recognize you now,” he admitted, his helmet tilting. “I recognize the mark I left.” He dragged his gloved finger down the side of his helmet, mirroring my scar that marked my cheekbone. “You’ve certainly grown,” he mocked, still trying to get me to lose focus and let Merrik go. “I’d like to see you again. Maybe I’ll ask Merrik to bring you with the duchess. I miss those nights where you’d be so silent. Such a good slave. Until I pushed you so far that you’d fight back. Your fire. How you would-”

I shot the hologram console with one of my pistols, anger boiling in me enough that I was shaking. “Last chance,” I growled as Vizsla’s image faded. Something inside me told me that if I released all the anger bubbling inside me, I could shake the room. Maybe even shatter the windows.

I kept it inside me. For now.

The door hissed open behind me, the sound of a lightsaber igniting as Obi-wan entered.

“Come in, Kenobi,” Merrik said with a smirk, officially ignoring me. “You’re expected.” Satine started in her struggling again, her face a mixture of fear, determination, and sadness as what she’d heard Vizsla say. I didn’t want her pity. I’d dealt with everything I’d been through under Death Watch.

At least, I thought I had.

“Tal Merrik,” Obi-wan said smoothly, unknowing about what had happened in the room. “You are under arrest. Release the duchess.”

“You know,” Merrik mocked. “Your little bounty hunter didn’t even offer arrest. She just wanted to shoot me.”

Despite Obi-wan’s look, I growled, still fighting my unbridled anger. “For good reason.”

“I took the precaution of wiring the ship’s engines to explode,” the traitorous senator explained, drawing a trigger mechanism from beneath his cloak. “I press this remote, and we all die.”

“Obi,” Satine spoke now. “If you have any respect for me, you will not take such risks with so many people’s lives at stake.”

Merrik smirked, but I only rolled my eyes. What kind of request was that? Obviously we were going to save everyone. Even if that meant I had to shoot through her.

Of course, Obi-wan may not have felt the same way.

“Satine,” he breathed, his brow furrowing as Merrik forced Satine to move towards the door. “Don’t.”

We followed the senator and his hostage through the halls, our weapons at the ready for whenever he would take a wrong step. “I suppose we can safely say that the Death Watch is backed by the Separatists now,” I mused, hearing the sounds of battle coming from somewhere on the ship.

“Our influence is more widespread than ever,” Merrik stated smugly. “Everything has already begun. It’s too late.”

“You’re going to be sadly mistaken,” Obi-wan rebutted. Despite his confident words, I could feel the anxiety rippling off of him. Similarly, he could feel my festering anger...and how badly I wanted to shoot something. “What happened?” he muttered, knowing that I was feeling him prod at my mental wall.

“Later,” I responded curtly, rounding the corner after them.

“This is Merrik,” the senator said into his wrist comm, backing towards a Seperatist boarding ship that had crashed into the side of the hallway. “Standby to disengage.” He smirked between Obi-wan and Satine. “Say farewell, Duchess.”

“Obi-wan,” Satine said breathlessly, my eyebrows raising as a wave of desperate sincerity rose from her. “It looks like I may never see you again. I don’t quite know how to say this, but...I’ve loved you from the moment you came to my aid, all those years ago.”

Merrik and I shared the same expression of shock, perhaps mixed with a mildly amused exasperation. “I don’t believe this,” the senator said with a roll of his eyes.

“Satine.” Obi-wan was flustered. Shocked. “This is hardly the time or place for-” his voice cut off under her earnest gaze. “Alright,” he sighed, catching me by surprise as sadness rippled from him in the force. “Had you said the word, I would’ve left the Jedi Order.”

“That is touching,” Merrik mocked. “Truly it is. But it’s making me sick, and we really must be going.”

Satine scoffed. “You have the romantic soul of a slug, Merrik!” Finally, she did something, slamming her heel onto his toe and twisting away, grabbing his blaster as she did. “And slugs are so often trod upon.”

I lifted my brows at her. I liked her ferocity, but I admitted that it took her long enough to do something. I wondered for a moment if her confession was a plan to rattle Merrik enough for her escape. Maybe it was, but it didn’t change the fact that her words had been genuine.

As had Kenobi’s…

“Interesting turnabout,” Merrik chuckled, looking at all the weapons trained on him. “But even if I do not deliver the duchess alive to the Separatists, I still win. The second I’m away, I’ll hit the remote and blow the Coronet to bits!”

“I will not allow that!” Despite the surety in her words, Satine couldn’t keep her hands from shaking around the blaster.

“What will you do?” Merrik teased. “If you shoot me, you prove yourself a hypocrite to every pacifist ideal you hold dear. And you, Kenobi,” he said, looking between the jedi and I. “You and your lacky are no strangers to violence. Either of you would be hailed as a hero by everyone on this ship.” His eyes cut to Satine. “Almost everyone.” The senator chuckled, Obi-wan raising his hand to lower my blasters gently.

“What are you doing?” I whispered harshly. I knew it was because he valued what Satine thought. As per my usual demeanor, I really didn’t give a damn.

“Come on, then,” Merrik asked. “Who’ll strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?”

Satine still shook, Obi-wan looking unsure of how he wanted to act. I rolled my eyes, stepping sideways, and lifted my pistol. A quick squeeze of the trigger left Merrik with a smoking hole in his chest, the man falling to the ground.

Anakin had entered, ready to take out the senator as well. Instead, he scooped down and swept up the falling detonator. “Good timing, Kida,” he smirked at me.

“Kida,” Obi-wan said my name again, more disappointed sounding than Anakin.

I shrugged at him. “He was going to blow up the ship. And you might care what the duchess thinks of you, but I really don’t.” I glanced at her, seeing her throw the blaster away from her like it was vile. “And she knows I worked on my own decision, not yours.”

“Obi-wan,” Satine said gently, approaching the jedi. I stepped away to be beside Anakin, returning his small smile. “I-” she was cut off as Cody entered the room.

“General Skywalker,” he said, giving me a nod. “The last of the droids have been defeated, sir.”

“Very good, Cody,” Anakin responded, glancing at me before looking back at Kenobi and Satine.

The duchess raised her head, turning away from our jedi friend. “I must get back to the business of diplomacy.”

“As you say, Duchess,” Obi-wan said with a bow. “Another time,” he added, his voice lower. Sadder.

He walked by us with a nod, his expression slightly worried as it passed me. I understood why. He’d confessed love. Confessed a wanting to leave the order. And I was the only person not directly involved who came out of the confession alive.

Still, his secret was safe with me. He was keeping mine, after all.

“It looks like I missed all of the fun,” I mused as I walked beside Anakin, feeling the ship shift into hyperspace again. It wouldn’t be long until we made it to Coruscant now.

“You did,” Anakin chuckled, giving me a smile. “But there will be plenty more in this war.” I hummed in response as we met up with Rex to walk towards the landing dock to prepare for docking on the Coruscanti platforms. “What did I miss on your side?”

“Mostly just more of Merrik’s annoying voice as he monologued his way through his villain speech.”

“His what?”

I laughed, earning a few chuckles from the clones, too. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard Grievous or Dooku monologue.”

“I mean, I guess. I just never named their speeches.” Still, Anakin was laughing now too. “That was really all that happened? Obi-wan seemed...upset.”

I shrugged. “He was mad that I shot him, considering Satine asked us not to be violent. I didn’t really care.”

“He was going to blow up the ship,” Anakin commented.

“That was my thought process.” I sighed. “So yeah, apart from monologuing and finally getting to shut up the annoying senator, you missed a wonderful stroll down memory lane with Vizsla and a whole lot of following Merrik and his hostage through the Coronet.”

“Woah, you talked with Vizsla?”

“It was mostly Vizsla talking at me while I threatened Merrik.”

Anakin slowed in the hangar, turning to look at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “It rattled you, nonetheless.” It wasn’t a question.

“Why do you say that?”

The powerful jedi fixed me with a look. It was true. I could lock off my thoughts, but my emotions were high strung at the moment...far from being under lock and key. “I can feel your anger,” was all he said.

I lifted my shoulders at an attempt at nonchalance. “He was trying to rile me up.”

“He succeeded.”

“He didn’t keep me from saving Satine, so did he really?” Man, I really was angry. Even Skywalker was pissing me off. I needed to separate myself and cool off. Maybe punch something for a while.

Anakin’s eyebrow lifted, his arms crossing. “I’ve never seen you like this. Do you want to talk about it?”

My eyes dropped, some of my anger shifting to sadness. “No. I really don’t.”

His hand touched my shoulder, nearly making me jump. “If you ever want to, know that I understand more than most. I don’t tell a lot of people this, but when I was younger, I was--”

“A slave,” I completed softly, keeping the men from hearing. “I know.” He gave me a questioning look. “Padme told me when she found out I’d been a slave, too.”

Anakin hummed, squeezing my shoulder gently before removing his hand.

“May I ask a question?” He only nodded in response. “Were you happy with how you were freed?”

His eyebrow lifted at the question, but he shrugged anyways. “I suppose. In a way, I won it myself, since I was freed on a bet on if I’d win my podrace. Master Qui-Gon brought me to Coruscant where I found purpose. A family within the Jedi Order. The strength to fight for what’s right.” He looked over my features as we leaned against the crates in the hangar. “Were you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Jabba didn’t treat me poorly. Of course, no one likes being a slave, but I could have had it worse. But I wish I could have saved myself in a way like you did. By the time Jango freed me, I wasn’t even me anymore. I’d lost a part of myself in the Death Watch camp.”

“Maybe,” Anakin mused. “But maybe you found something inside you, too. Something stronger than what you’d been before.”

“What do you mean?”

“You hide your thoughts well, Kida,” he smiled gently at me. “But in the moment when you were on that bridge, your mind was like a battering ram through the halls. I didn’t see much,” he defended at my small jump of fright. “But I saw enough.” He leaned closer to me, his hand gripping my shoulder again. “Not many people can endure what you endured, Kida. Not to mention come out on the other side as strong as you are. Be proud of what you’ve survived. What you continue to survive. And keep fighting. Because you’re damned good at it.”

I chuckled lowly, fighting down the emotions Anakin was clearly determined at rooting up. “Are you sure jedi is the right line of work for you?” He seemed unsure at my words. “You seem much more fitted for a motivational speaker,” I teased effectively getting his attention off of my emotional turmoil.

“Change the subject all you want, Kida,” he said with a laugh, waving his hand as I felt the Coronet enter Coruscant’s atmosphere. “But I’m here if you ever want to talk.” He stopped as he began to walk away, turning back slowly with a sheepish, uncomfortable expression. “And,” he added, softer. “Padme is a good listener, should you ever want to talk to her.”

I smiled, appreciating it, but not taking genuine kindness like his very well. It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It was more that I had seen so little of it, that I wasn’t entirely sure how to react. “Can I use your private channel?” I teased, earning a look and a blush from him before he hurried away to avoid further jabs.

I stood as the Coronet docked smoothly, the duchess and her retinue entering to disembark. “You alright?” I turned to see Rex approaching slowly, his helmet tilted to examine me closely.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured, walking beside him as the gangway descended. “How did the fighting go? Is everyone alright?”

He nodded. “No fatalities from the Seperatist attack.” His voice quieted with a bit of sadness, despite his training to detach himself. “Apart from those lost in the cargo hangar.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be. Those that survived did so because you were here to help.”

I glanced at him with some surprise, smiling as we stepped off of the Coronet. “So does that mean you’re finally alright with me being part of the war?”

“My opinion shouldn’t influence yours.”

“I never said it did.”

He chuckled lowly, my own smile finding my lips despite seeing the chancellor on the platform below. Obi-wan and Skywalker approached behind me, the latter giving me a nod with his head to have me follow them. I parted from Rex with a small smile, staying behind them as they greeted the chancellor.

“A job well done, Master Jedi,” Chancellor Palpatine said, surrounded by Senate guards.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” Obi-wan replied with a bow.

“Your Excellency,” Anakin said.

“And Miss Fett,” the chancellor continued as the jedi stepped aside. “I’m glad to hear you’ve officially joined with the Republic cause. I’m glad to have such a capable warrior fighting alongside our forces.”

I swallowed thickly, my inability to read the man unnerving. Still, I kept up my cool facade and bowed with a cocky smile. “Thank you, Chancellor,” I said, mimicking what Obi-wan had said. “I’m glad to be of service.”

I followed after the jedi, walking past Obi-wan as Satine approached him, to stand beside Skywalker a few feet back.

“How ironic to meet again,” I heard the duchess say. “Only to find we’re on opposing sides.”

“The needs of your people are all that matter,” Kenobi assured. “They couldn’t be in better hands, with you to guide their future.”

“Kind words, indeed, from a mindful and committed jedi.” I glanced at Skywalker, seeing him sporting the same raised eyebrows that I did. “And yet,” Satine continued, looking lost in thought.

“What?” Obi-wan seemed worried.

But, Satine only chuckled. “I’m still not sure about the beard.” Her manicured fingers brushed through the reddish hair, Obi-wan grinning slowly.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Is he blushing?” I whispered, leaning towards Anakin, who could barely contain his laughter.

“It hides too much of your handsome face.” I smiled at Satine’s words, despite the amusement I felt at their lack of attempt at subtlety. Then again, like master, like student, right? I guess I could understand where Anakin learned it.

As the duchess walked away, Anakin and I stepped forward again, the young jedi knight putting his hand on his master’s shoulder.

“What was that all about?” he chuckled. Obi-wan didn’t respond, his former padawan sobering. “A very remarkable woman,” he admitted.

“She is, indeed.”

As Satine boarded her Senate transport with the rest of the political figureheads, I leaned closer to Obi-wan giving a smile to his mildly worried expression.

“Relax,” I assured. “Your secret is safe with me.”

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars oc #oc star wars #captain rex x oc #captain rex #rex #rex x oc #fanfiction #fanfic #obi wan x satine #death watch #pre vizsla

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