#Incinerator Trooper

[coaz-photography]

All flesh is equal when burned

[comicchannel]

Star Wars The Black Series The Mandalorian Incinerator Trooper Hasbro E9366

Link para compra BR: https://amzn.to/3KtElgk

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[st4r-t3ars]

Decisions decisions

[clonememesfrikyeah]

For all my fanfic writers and consumers, imagine: a readerXAlpha-17 fic where reader has such a creative sailors mouth that some of the diabolical things they say to people has A-17 gasping in horror and clutching his pearls

[eightbitpale]

The logical assumption is that the Kaminoans realised this and engineered them to not have milk teeth. Like to just have one set of adult teeth all their lives, which descend at the same time as baby teeth but just… never fall out.

However this is a horrible possibility because that implies that for the first five or so years of a clone’s life they just have adult sized teeth in a little kid sized head, which is quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever thought of in my life

Like picture half a million poorly socialised 4 year olds with full sets of adult-man sized chompers. Bad bad bad

Star Wars thoughts I’m not willing to google part 1:

do the clones have baby teeth??

If so: what is done with the baby teeth???

because that’s

so many teeth

AND IT WOULD BE IN BATCHES

bATCHES OF TEETH

[miss-musings]

Is— is Crosshair the only TBB character who’s actively tried to kill Omega?

The Kaminoans wanted her alive, so the bounty hunters never tried to kill her.

Hemlock wanted her alive, so his troopers and CX operatives never tried to kill her.

I guess nameless Imperial troopers, the Zillo beast and some other creatures, and maybe a few one-off villains like the Pikes did.

But I’m pretty sure Crosshair is the only main/recurring character who’s actively tried to kill her.

And not once but multiple times: he almost shot her on Kamino (several times) and almost incinerated all of them on Bracca.

(EDIT: I forgot about Wrecker. But he was under the influence of the inhibitor chip/Order 66 at the time. Yes, Crosshair was too. But Wrecker clearly made an attempt to fight it as he was about to shoot Omega AND he actively apologized to her afterward. As much as I love Crosshair’s S2-3 arc, he never apologized to the Bad Batch for what he did to them. SMH.)

[wolveria]

What We Did on Felucia - Ch 4

Pairing: The Bad Batch x f!Reader

Series Warnings: Smut, dubcon, slow burn, sex pollen

Chapter Summary:

“Something else you wish to say?” “No, Master Yoda. Everything is included in the report.” “Sense more, I do.”

AO3

Between the medical droids and personnel (all Kaminoans, you realized, and of course that would make sense, most medical stations treated injured clones after all), you were soon cleared for duty.

You slowly dressed in a new pair of Jedi robes, these ones the standard fair for new knights. Your own specialized robes had been incinerated after they were stripped off your unconscious body, and after decontamination, nothing of the chemical remained. One of the Kaminoans informed you that even the sample they attempted to take from your skin had broken down too quickly to be useful. The Separatists had probably designed it that way so it would be more difficult to create an antiserum.

You were given a new comm device and told that the rest of your squad was cleared from medical, as well as for take-off from the station. After adding your signature to Hunter’s report, you boarded the Marauder in what was arguably going to be the most uncomfortable journey back to Kamino.

You wished you could say you weren’t a coward, and that you continued on as if everything was normal. But it wasn’t, so you didn’t, and you spent your time in the gunner’s seat, staring out at the blankness of hyperspace while you pretended to meditate.

The others let you be, for the most part. Wrecker and Echo asked how you were feeling (separately, of course), and Hunter came by with the occasional ration bar and unsubtle attempt to gauge how you were doing. Your responses were minimal and diplomatic, and not one of them bought it.

Tech and Crosshair remained scarce. Tech was often busy and distracted with maintaining the ship or working on a project, but his avoidance felt purposeful. Designed.

Crosshair’s absence felt like a heated point in an argument, one he was winning.

You only left to use the refresher, avoiding the bunks as if Wrecker had snuck another explosive onboard and tried to smuggle it under his pillow. You earned expectant looks when you did come out, at least from the others; Crosshair pretended you weren’t there, and you might have believed it if you didn’t sense every facet of his focus on your footsteps.

That wasn’t nearly as bad as Wrecker’s hopeful gaze slowly fading into hurt and disappointment.

The gunner’s seat was cramped and not meant for sleeping, but it was a long journey, and you couldn’t stay awake the entire time, exhaustion weighing you down. The first time you fell asleep, curled up and uncomfortable, you woke to a blanket covering you from the neck down, a cushion under your feet for support. Hunter’s familiar smell weaved into the fabric of the blanket, and you pulled it up to your face and closed your eyes.

Small indulgences would lead to disastrous outcomes. You knew this. It’s why you had to leave.

Once you landed on Kamino, the men didn’t stop you from departing for Coruscant—mainly because they didn’t know you were leaving. Like a literal coward in the literal night, you took a shuttle to a cruiser in orbit scheduled for the Inner Rim.

Your only obstacle had been Hunter’s attention after the Marauder touched down in the hanger bay. He caught you leaving the gunner chair after you sensed the ship was empty, and asked how you were doing. His gaze was a little too knowing at your answer that yes, you were fine. But when you said you just needed rest, he didn’t push it, and you left the planet within the hour.

The clone troopers on the cruiser sent curious glances your way, but they were cursory and mostly uninterested. You kept to yourself and silenced your comm when it beeped.

It had been a drizzling night when you left Kamino, but it was bright mid-morning when you landed on Coruscant. You thanked the gunship crew that took you directly from the cruiser to the Jedi Temple and prepared yourself for what came next. Striding through the golden halls wrapped you in a familiar warmth, but standing before the grand doors into the Council chambers made your stomach toss in a stormy sea.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were physically in the chamber, most times sending your reports to the database or attending meetings by holoprojector. If you could guess, the last time you were here was when the Council had assigned you to Kamino soon after the war started. You’d just earned the title of Master, and training a new army, even with the help of another Jedi and hired bounty hunters, had been a daunting task.

Your younger self could never have imagined it would lead you here.

With a signal you were unable to see or hear, the Jedi Temple Guards opened the massive double doors. Buttery sunlight spilled across your feet, trickling in from the windows that towered over your head. You took a deep breath and walked inside.

Not every member of the Council was there physically or by projection, but enough of them were that the nervousness stayed with you as you gave your debriefing. You repeated everything in Hunter’s report, neither deviating nor embellishing. You were glad you couldn’t sweat.

Some of the members had follow-up questions, such as the nature of the chemical, its intended purpose, and surprisingly, whether it could be replicated. You had to remind yourself they didn’t know what the chemical actually did, and you pleaded ignorance on all counts.

“That should be all we need,” Master Windu said from his regal seat, his expression stern but not unkind. “I think I speak for all of us when I say it’s good to see you made it through this trial intact.”

Intact. Right.

“Thank you, Master Windu.” You gave a small bow of your head. “I appreciate you taking the time to hear my report.”

And hopefully, this way, there was no reason for anyone to dig into the mission report any deeper.

“Something else you wish to say?”

You turned to Master Yoda, blinking, but the diminutive Jedi simply stared back, his face open and attentive.

“No, Master Yoda. Everything is included in the report.”

“Sense more, I do.”

You willed your heart to beat steadily, your face to remain blank. But this was the Council, and lying to them was as effective as trying to cheat a Hutt.

“I… will admit, it was a harrowing experience, for me and my troopers. I should have been better prepared for such an event.”

Master Kit Fisto spoke up, his tone kind even through the holoprojector.

“We have all fallen into the enemy’s trap, some more than others.” He cast a sideways glance at Master Kenobi who took the jab by rolling his eyes, and Master Fisto grinned toothily.

 “You did well,” Master Shaak Ti added from her own projected image; she was still on Kamino. “As did your men.”

“Yes, they did.” You met the eyes of the Council, your jittery nerves easing away. “Clone Force 99 conducted themselves admirably, as they always do, and I’m… I’m grateful to them. If they hadn’t acted so quickly, I would be a Separatist prisoner. Or worse.”

“Perhaps the first time in Republic history this particular squad has been said to conduct themselves admirably,” Master Kenobi chimed in with playful amusement, “but I too am grateful to them for your safe return. Anakin always spoke highly of them, so, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Warmth spread through you, pleased to hear your men praised by others. They certainly deserved it, and you returned Master Kenobi’s smile.

Master Windu concluded the meeting as your mission report was the last item on the agenda. You almost made it past the inner chamber before Master Yoda somehow managed to get ahead of you, blocking your escape.

“A walk to soothe these old bones, I need. Accompany me, you will.”

At least he didn’t make it sound like a choice. Normally you would enjoy walking with the old master, but the way he’d watched you throughout the debriefing didn’t bode well for you.

You followed him into the lift, emerging onto the floor that led out into the gardens. The cool breeze tugged at the strands of your loose hair, a soothing touch that soothed your heated skin.

“Returned to the Temple, you have, even when not needed. Holoprojector easier, yes? Why are you here?”

Cutting straight to the point, then. At least you had no reason to wait now.

“This mission… took more out of me than I thought.” That was certainly true, so why did every word feel dishonest? The feeling only got worse as you finally voiced the reason you came to Coruscant. “I returned in hopes I could request a meditative retreat.”

“Hmm. Worked long you have, many missions without rest. Pushed yourself too far in your duties, perhaps.”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“Approve of this time of restoration, I do.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” you said with genuine gratitude.

“Rest, yes, good rest.” His smile was bright, even a little impish. “Reflect on that which burdens the mind. Then you will find the serenity you seek, hmm?”

He added a small chuckle, and you returned a strained smile. The Grand Master had no idea how right he was, or perhaps he did, and you eventually dismissed yourself with the feeling that he sensed the weight of the choice you would have to make.

You only hoped he didn’t sense the reasons behind your doubt and conflict. Even Master Yoda would be shocked at the depraved depths you’d sunk, and how eager parts of you were to revisit those dark waters.

Meditation and rest brought you no closer to peace. Your comm was still silenced, and while you had messages when you logged onto a datapad, you read them but didn’t answer.

Each one was a pang in your chest. Hunter checking in, concerned when you didn’t answer your comm and he found you no longer on Kamino. Tech sending a short message updating you on the droid schematics that had been stolen from the Separatists, your reason for being on Felucia to begin with. Wrecker asking if you were okay and when you would be back. Echo giving you assurances that you could take your time, and the squad would be there when you returned.

There were no messages from Crosshair.

A week passed. The messages came less frequently until they stopped altogether. That was for the best. They would grow accustomed to your lack of presence, making the transition easier. They might even be relieved when you officially asked for a replacement to lead Clone Force 99 in your stead.

That’s what you told yourself, so why did you feel a jolt through your gut when you received a request for another Jedi to lead a mission as commanding officer?

You swallowed your reservations and anxiety and signed the form. Master Inaro would do a fine job leading your team, and your heightened emotions were a sign that you needed to remove yourself as their commander permanently. You had approved Hunter’s falsified report as a way to protect your men, but you couldn’t do it again. You were already compromised. Unfit to lead, no matter what Hunter said.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to linger on the loss of what you would never have again. Tech’s quick wit and curious mind. Wrecker’s large heart and sweet nature. Echo’s steadfast bravery despite everything he had endured. Crosshair’s scathing tongue and the teasing slant of his rare smiles. Hunter’s thoughtfulness and warmth even as he tried to maintain the distance of command.

It hurt. You were surprised at how much.

Days passed in what felt like a listless slump rather than restful meditation, the world around you dull and colorless until the day your datapad beeped. It was a copy of the mission report from Aldera. You stared at it for a long moment, and then tapped it open. If Hunter submitted a report this timely, it would be something worth reading.

The report hadn’t been completed by Hunter. Another Jedi’s name was listed, and attached to the mission report was a preliminary analysis of the events of the mission.

There was a third attachment, completed by the same Jedi: the death certificate of Master Inaro, and two critical injury reports for CT-9902 and CT-9904.

For the first time in the Bad Batch’s history, they had failed a mission.

Next Chapter

[heyclickadee]

This was originally going to be part of the second half of this post listing all the things which are both left unresolved by the end of The Bad Batch and conveniently just to happen to be tied directly to Tech. That post was getting unwieldy, though, and I think I’m just going to be breaking up the different sections into their own posts.

So, with the disclaimer that I’m arguing that Tech is alive and still coming back and was always planned to be, just on a longer timeframe than any of us expected: One smaller thing that I think needs resolution is the inherent conflict between Tech’s willingness to put himself in harm’s way at the drop of a hat for the people he loves on the one side, and his intense will to live and ability to pull a win out of an impossible situation on the other.

Because Tech is very often willing to put himself on the line when there’s something threatening the others. We arguably see this as far back as “Aftermath” where his solution to dealing with the new problem of the practice droids having live rounds and the batch’s weapons being useless against them is to reprogram one of the practice droids—good—and then get on its shoulders so he can steer and aim, which is necessary for making the plan work but also makes him a bigger target. Then there’s (arguably) “Cut and Run,” where he decides the best way to get access to the chain codes is to get the ship impounded and risk getting caught (this one goes a little sideways because Echo is involved and Omega unexpectedly tags along; “Spoils of War,” where he runs out into the woods with a broken femur because Echo and Omega might need his help; “Faster,” where he repeatedly risks his life in a race to keep a mafia don from coming after his family (and to save Cid); “The Crossing,” where he jumps down a chasm after Omega; arguably “Metamorphosis,” where he goes to turn the power on alone knowing that there’s something dangerous on the ship; and of course “Plan 99.” And probably a number of other times I’m not remembering off the top of my head.

But, the thing is, we never see Tech just being reckless or giving up in a no win situation. In almost if not all of these cases there’s a calculated risk and a tendency to fight to survive the whole time it’s happening. Yes, he’s visibly spooked during the whole power-up sequence in “Metamophosis” and runs headlong into the zillo beast at one point later, but he’s also ready to fight anything that comes around a corner and is actually the one to everyone out from being cornered by the zillo by simply keeping his head on his shoulders. The riot race is incredibly dangerous, yes, and taking that left tunnel even more so, but he knows what he has to do to win and make it out alive, and does so, confidently, in his way, with aplomb, despite Omega and Wrecker begging him not to the entire time. He gets cornered and just about collapses from the pain in “Spoils of War,” but he powers through, takes the other troopers out, and ends up winning that close fight behind the tree despite being at as severe a disadvantage as he was. He doesn’t let himself pass out until he’s taken care of the immediate danger to himself and the others.

(Slight sidebar here, but I think killing that poor trooper is probably the most harrowing thing we see Tech do, and probably the best indication of how hard he’ll fight to live if he has to. It’s rough and dirty, he’s badly hurt and pinned down, he’s farther away from the blaster, and in all likelihood he probably doesn’t want to kill that guy. But he does, and he fights through that broken leg, because dying is the other option and he’s not about to do that.)

Furthermore, Tech is almost always the one providing solutions to the no-win scenarios in which the batch finds itself. Flanked by droids and trapped by a huge drop? No problem, we’ll jump and let these flying reptiles carry us out. We’re about to be incinerated alive? Nah, we’ll just blow the cone off and roll around away from the blast. Wrecker’s about to be overwhelmed by weird cave bugs? Here’s a flash bomb. Zeffo Giraffe rampage? Well okay, we put the crystal back. Lists of people are going to get killed by a tsunami? Okay, we give them multiple avenues to get to safety. And so on and so forth.

That’s a guy who’s looking for solutions and exit strategies, not someone who’s ready to lay down and accept the inevitable. And the thing is, Tech’s deliberate optimism and one-in-a-million plans? They work. The story pretty firmly establishes that he’s a master at pulling whatever win he can from unwinnable situations. And there’s a natural tension between that—the tendency to fight and find a way to survive even against terrible odds—and being as self-sacrificial as he is.

Now, you could say that this tension was resolved in “Plan 99.” He’s a soldier and he sacrificed himself, therefore the resolution comes out in favor of the self sacrificial side. Except…eh, not quite.

This could have been resolved in “Plan 99.” Easily resolved, in fact. Show Tech accepting that he’s about to die. Have him embrace it, say goodbye, take his helmet off and keep looking at them all as he’s falling (or, hey, change the circumstances so that he actually dies instead of falling into the Ambiguous Mists alive). Have his last line be something about how the others need to keep the mission going or saying goodbye.

Instead, what we get out of Tech’s current last line is a little defiant. “When have we ever followed orders?”* Basically, “You can’t stop me from doing this.” “I know what I am doing. It’s called ‘strategy.’” He closes his eyes for a second as he falls but then he very deliberately flips himself over—which is what you’re supposed to do if you find yourself falling from that high. It gives you a better chance to control your speed and steer. He’s not surrendering, he’s trying to take control of the situation in any way he can.

Which means that inherent tension is still at play. Yes, he’s sacrificing himself and taking a huge risk for the people he loves. Yes. He’s trying to find them all a way out of this impossible situation. And yes, he’s going to fight to live the whole way down, no matter how bad his chances are.

If that’s a tension you don’t resolve in “Plan 99,” then, well—you’ve got to resolve it somewhere. At this point, after he comes back is the only place you could.

*I can’t emphasize how weird it would be to have a character’s actual last line forever for good be a question, especially if it’s one left without an answer. Meanwhile if Tech was CX-2 and lived (and is still alive) you actually end up with a really interesting answer to it.

[thefrogdalorian]

The scene in The Jedi where Ahsoka tries to get Grogu to use the Force made me realise how long it actually was at that point since we last saw him use it. He hadn't used it since he pushed back the fire from the Incinerator troopers in Redemption.

I wonder if he didn't use it very much after that point because he was trying to say to Din that he didn't really want to be a Jedi anymore. That he didn't want to be reunited with his kind and he wanted to stay with Din. If he didn't use his powers there would be nothing to train.

Until Din showed Grogu he loved him so much that he was happy to let him go. So that's when Grogu decided he should take that path and retrain to be a Jedi...

[carolinetano7567]

A little Rex x female Jedi reader thingy cuz I’m bored. 😂

Everything had seemed to play out in slow motion. Of the hundreds of troopers that had surrounded you, it was hard to tell from which blaster the shot came. You were lying on the ground, gasping for breath as incinerating pain shot up from your abdomen and squeezed the breath from your chest. You still gripped your lightsaber in your hand, but you knew you were now useless with it. Rex had warned you about this mission. You knew it would be risky…but you never anticipated getting shot. Your head lurched back as another wave of pain washed over you, greater than the others. You needed a medic…or any kind of help for that matter. Rex, Gregor, and Echo were nearby picking off the remaining troopers; you could hear the sounds of the struggle although your ears were ringing. 

“Rex���” You coughed weakly. You knew your voice would never reach him. His focus was on the enemy. But perhaps— perhaps there was another way. 

You shut your eyes, and sucked in a deep, shaky breath. Despite the blazing pain coming from your abdomen, years of training at the Jedi Temple kicked in as you cleared your mind, save for one face. 

“Rex,” You whispered, desperately reaching for him through the Force. 

“Rex,” Your head started to spin, and you were brought back to the chaotic sounds of the battlefield after a moment’s peace. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the wound steadily pulsed with excruciating pain. You felt your hands starting to tremble. 

Then Rex shouted out your name. Strong, clear, and distinct amongst blaster fire, and cries of struggle. Your entire body felt like it was made of concrete, but you weakly rolled your head to the side to see Rex dashing across the battlefield to reach you. 

It had worked. Any storm troopers that stood in his path he cut down without hesitation as he skidded to your side. He dropped to his knees, and started examining you; all the while muttering curses under his breath. 

“Ah no. No, no, no, no, no.” He panted. He slid his arm around your neck, but you could feel your consciousness beckoning to slip away.  He looked down at you, his eyes wide and full of fear. 

“Just hang in there, y/n.” He whispered. You could hear how terrified he was in his tone. 

“Gregor!” He barked. “We need a med pack! Now!” His eyes darted about wildly as you heard Gregor call “I’m on it, Rex!” 

“Just stay with me, alright?” Rex looked back down at you. “Stay with me.” His voice was barely audible. With all the strength you could muster, you lifted your shaking hand, and caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and overlapped your small hand with his. You could feel that he was shaking. 

“Rex, I can’t…” You gasped as the pain intensified. Rex brought you closer to himself, and pressed your hand to his chest. 

“You have to try.” He whispered, his brow creased in sorrow. “Please I— I can’t loose you.” 

You knew it wasn’t up to you, but you dreaded all the things you would never see again. The sunrise, the stars…Rex smiling. You loved him more than anything, and now he would never know. A tear trailed down your cheek, and Rex’s breath got caught in his throat. 

You wanted to say so much, but had not the strength. 

“I’m…sorry.” Was all you managed with a wry grin. 

Rex breathed your name, and held you tightly. “No…no, please.” He begged, his eyes brimming with tears. Your head rolled back, and you slipped into quiet darkness. 

“Light.” Was the first thing you thought. You were lying against something soft, and there was a white light spilling over you. As you further awoke, your senses started to reboot. Your abdomen pulsed with a dull ache, but you felt comfortable in the position you were in. You blinked your bleary eyes a few times as they adjusted to the light of the med bay. You recognized it to be the one in Rex’s ship. Then it registered in your mind, that your hand was clasped by something warm, and firm. Turning your head to the side, you see Rex, hunched over asleep by your bedside. Your hand was folded between his. You blushed, and your chest swelled with a happy breath. 

Straining a bit, you pushed yourself up, and laid your hand on Rex’s shoulder. 

He jolted up, and blinked a few times; disoriented. 

“Oh thank the Maker.” He heaved when he saw you. He took your hand again, and gently rubbed his thumb across it. 

“It’s warm.” He whispered, smiling down at it. You then felt the little wet drop of a tear atop your hand. 

“It’s been so cold…” Rex shut his eyes, and tried to steady himself. 

You smiled at him, realizing that he probably hadn’t left your side. 

“How long were you sitting there?” You softly asked. 

“That doesn’t matter.” Rex gave a slight chuckle. 

“Yes,” you contradict, grinning. “It does.” 

Rex sighed, and sat down beside you. “As long as it took for you to wake up.” He shrugged. Your heart started to beat faster. 

“Thank you.” You whispered as tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked and they started to fall. 

“There now, none of that.” Rex grinned, and gently brushed them away with his thumb. “You heal up now, you hear?” He asked, regaining his composure. “And maybe I’ll arrange an—excursion for the both of us.” He turned red, and scratched the back of his head. 

“I’d like that very much.” You smiled, and brushed a hair back behind you ear. “An excursion for the two of us, it is.” 

[dzthenerd490]

Space Marine Chapter: Angel Guard

Description: A Space Marine Chapter born from the Dark Angels and hailing from the moon Vigilus orbiting the world of New Cadia. Entrusted to protect High Ranking Imperials during Crusades especially the established members of Crusade Councils. They ensure that all assets during a crusade are secured so that no enemy can exploit any possible weaknesses that will lead to either a shameful retreat or unthinkable surrender of Imperial forces. They are one of the only Chapters that not only get along with Imperial Troopers rather well but refer to Troopers from the Children of Cadia Regiment as brothers and sisters.

It is believed this kinship comes from the fact that they were born on one of the moons of New Cadia, a planet that was colonized to be the new home of the Cadians after the fall of their original world. However, the only Imperial force they will never acknowledge as friendly in any manner is their parent Legion the Dark Angels. Like most Chapters born from the Dark Angels they are rather ashamed of the downfall of the Dark Angels and actively avoid even making eye contact with them and refuse to bow when a Dark Angel passes by.

Unique Trait: “Golden Fortification” a powerful ability that coats an Angel Guard in golden light making them indestructible to all forms of attack. This ability can be maintained for as long as the Angel Guard desires but only so long as they remain in place. If they move their position they will lose this ability and be unable to utilize it again for at least 5 hours.

Arsenal:

Crystal Blade Holy Spear - A Holy Spear made with a unique crystal found only on Vigilus. Like all Holy Weapons it can be activated with a chant from the wielder, for the Crystal Blade Holy Spear the cant is “Holy Spear, erase all my enemies”. Once said the crystal will glow bright and be able to completely incinerate anything it touches. This state of the Crystal Blade Holy Spear is very dangerous as it can erase the Angel Guard and other Imperial Forces if not used carefully.

Holy Shield of Regeneration - A Holy Weapon commonly given to all Chapters born from the Dark Angels. The Shield is strong enough to even be able to resist more than one blast from a Necron Atomizer cannon. However, should the shield or the wielder ever suffer great damage, the user can chant “May the Blessings of the Emperor shield me from pain” and both the user and the shield will heal instantly.

Bolter Pistol - Heavily condensed version of the original Bolter Gun made to be able to hold 6 canisters of God Blood with a total of 120 bolt shots. Normally only possesses Incendiary, Cryo, Explosive, Electric, and Armor Piercing frequencies.

Dual Cyber Batons - Batons made with batteries inside that shock anything upon impact with anywhere to 200 to 500,000,000 volts. The amount of voltage can be changed by the Angel Guard through a cyber connection with the Helmet Visor. Powerful enough to merely stun a human as well as fry the insides of even the strongest of Orks.

Deity of Worship: Because the Angel Guards are ashamed of their heritage they do not acknowledge Lion as their God anymore. Instead they worship both Rogal and Roboute as their Gods. They worship Rogal to make their bodies fortified and strong enough to defend crusade councils they are assigned to protect. They worship Roboute to remind themselves to always put their duty first and have the strength and determination to follow it through, always.

Recruitment: Because Vigilus has been colonized with the Angel Guard's DNA factory it naturally worships both Roboute and Rogal. it is considered the utmost essential and most honorable duty to be able to guard anything within the Imperium on Vigilus because of this. As such schools on Vigilus not only teach students common Imperial Propaganda, History, and basic Education such as Math, Science, and Literature; they also teach students to be the best guards in any situation. Often students are assigned to guard certain items of importance in the schools, unknown to them they are being watched by the Priests of both Churches.

Occasionally children that are known to be talentless or troublemakers will be given candy and promised more in exchange for stealing the items the guard students are protecting. The student on guard is to protect the item they are assigned to for at least one month. If they can prevent the item being taken from its position within that month from the various assigned thieves, they will be chosen as an Angel Guard.

Once they are chosen, they and their parents will be told of this and how it will be a great honor to become an Angel Guard. This will be done as a test of faith as if the parents of the child refuses they will be banished to a planet in the region of the rotting Dark Angels where they will live out their days in shame and false hope. Naturally those that accept will be taken to the Angel Guard DNA factory within the Capital City of Vigilus.

Once the process within the rebirthing pod is complete they will return to their city as elite guards until such time as they are called to action during a crusade. Because they must be sentinel guards without weakness they are to only meet with past friends and family when they are off duty and their armor is gone.

Caution Regarding Chaos:

Khorne of Sacrifice and War - Immune, Angel Guards are meant to be sentinels of protection, war and battle does not interest them; only defense and Khorne is a god that only knows attack, his voice cannot reach them.

Tzeentch of Corrupting Knowledge and Magic - Immune, being the embodiment of perfect sentinels they have no need for any further knowledge. Or at least anything Tzeentch can tempt them with.

Nurgle of Disease and Decay - Low Risk, there is a rare chance that an Angel Guard will be disillusioned by their task as a sentinel and become so bored to the point they will see themselves as living corpses. Nurgle will find a good place for them should they reach a point of great depression. However, because of their faith in Roboute and Rogal as well as their genetically bred determination they can mostly resist Nurgle’s calls.

Slaanesh of Pleasure and Pain - Medium Risk, being a sentinel is an honor but it can be a bore for Angel Guards who find very little chance at free time given their dwindled ability to enjoy it. Slaanesh can help them find joy and excitement in life again but for a price that only the most bored and disillusioned Angel Guards will be willing to pay.

Malice of Anarchy and Vengeance - High Risk, Angel Guards that have died in combat or never get to see any real action may be filled with regret to the point that Malice can grant them what they need to get revenge or obtain the power they need to do more in life.

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 8]

Previously on...

-----

"Disrespectful little PEST-!"

Adze's furious screech preceded Z's reappearance, as the human came bolting through the doors, narrowly skidding out of the way of another piece of antenna debris before launching herself sideways to vault behind him.

And just a few steps behind her was Adze, optics blazing with fury. Catching the Trooper by the arm, Hatchet steered him away, but didn't let him go until he'd stopped digging his claws into the gravel. "What's the meaning of all this, then?"

"Your human has a mouth on her!"

Ah. "Yes, most of them do. It's part of their anatomy."

"You know what I mean!!"

He scoffed, turning Adze around and giving him a nudge back towards his assigned task. "I do know what you mean, and I'll deal with the matter. You go burn off that energy doing something useful."

Growling to himself, the Trooper directed one last glare towards Z, then stalked off to rejoin his brothers.

"…All in working order, Z?" Hatchet asked after a moment, glancing down to find the human huddled in a crouch with her arms wrapped around her knees and that now-familiar steely glare fixed on Adze. At his voice, though, she blinked and seemed to snap out of whatever trance held her.

"Ah, yeah, everything's fine. He's not the scariest thing I've ever outrun."

He studied her closely for a moment, then deliberately turned his attention elsewhere. She was already rattled, he didn't want to spook her further. "Your previous team… you don't seem especially broken up by their loss."

"Mmh." She half-shrugged, not giving any indication if she noticed the redirection; "they wouldn't've cared if it'd been my brains getting vaporized, so, no. We weren't much of a team, to be honest."

"So I gathered." Taking a step back, Hatchet knelt down beside her. "I think you will find that this unit isn't so dysfunctional. You can rely on your brothers here, little sister, but first you must be willing to work with them, and not needle them."

Her brow furrowed in a frown and she glanced away, but didn't argue; reaching out, he lightly rested his hand on her back.

(He also noted how she didn't tense up nearly as much as she had the first two times he'd touched her.)

"You came back here for a reason, Z. You were free to leave, and do as you pleased, but you came here. Why?"

"To be the 'instrument of my own wrath,' wasn't that how you put it?" She answered, her voice distant but her expression softening. "I've got a lot of wrath to give out, I guess."

"So I've seen," Hatchet chuffed softly. "It will be much easier to carry out that wrath if you could bring yourself to see your brothers as valued allies, rather than as obstacles, don't you think?"

Z's shoulders heaved in a weary sigh. "I know. I know I'm going to have to, it's just… hard. After everything."

Ducking her head, she growled wordlessly to herself - then exhaled sharply and stood so quickly she almost caught him by surprise. Dropping her gear and shedding her coat, she pushed her uniform's sleeves up, and strode purposefully across the gravel yard to where the Troopers were gathering up the disassembled scrap for disposal. Rising back to his own feet, Hatchet watched her single out Adze and nudge him with her elbow; whatever was said between the two was lost to him but, as Z proceeded to haul a piece of the debris to her shoulder and accompany Adze and Bolo towards the incinerator, he could see that the posturing between the two lacked the tension that had been present only a few minutes before.

She is uncertain, even frightened, but she is still brave. That will serve her well in the coming days.

And as he oversaw the final stage of the decommissioning, Hatchet found himself ruminating; he had dealt with many dissident humans over the course of his life, but none had been like Z. While all had been broken in one way or another by the carelessness of SEHC, her wounds were oddly unique, and every interaction with her only served to further convince him that she would be most effectively employed by keeping her close.

Because, while she was cagey and suspicious, she was still lucid and fearfully sharp - but she had also been left completely and utterly unmoored by her life experiences, and had clearly gotten used to keeping herself afloat by any means necessary.

She was quite good at it, all things considered, but it had grievously hampered her to have nothing solid to hold on to.

She was wasted on SEHC and the SEAF.

And so he would not send her back to them.

Z would learn what it was to have the unyielding support of brothers who were invested in her safety and success, and she would learn to rely on them as the relied on her, and she would flourish. Hatchet was sure of it, now even more than he'd previously been.

The SEAF had forged her into a blade, effective but crude.

He would refine her into a warrior.

The dim gray of the afternoon had darkened to a gloomy steel blue by the time the decommissioning process was finished, and the outpost was little more than an empty shell.

It was a lonely feeling, alleviated only by the presence of his brothers and sister as they assembled at the gate.

The sixteen of them were hardly a force to be reckoned with, but they would soon be rejoining other, larger outposts en route to the main base - and the front lines of yet another battle.

It's so very tiresome…

Z looked almost comically small, standing next to him where he brought up the rear of the column, but she carried herself with pride. Pride that didn't waver, he noted, when Guillotine faltered in his inspection with a disbelieving scoff - if anything, she almost looked smug.

"I told you she would come back," Hatchet rumbled softly, amused.

"And you're never wrong, I know," Gi replied with his characteristic curtness. "Don't let her fell behind, I won't hold the column up for her sake."

"Of course, Commissar."

"I don't think he likes me much," Z whispered once Guillotine had stalked away.

"He is very… particular about who he allows to see his good side," He replied, "but there is no better Commissar on this side of Cyberstan."

"What did he say?"

"Only that you should make sure not to fall behind."

"Oh, that's all? Sounds easy enough."

"It won't be."

The signal to move out came from the lead, and the column began its solemn procession - Guillotine and his four Troopers, followed by the two Berserkers, the six Troopers tasked with carrying the select pieces of hardware deemed too important to destroy, with Adze and Bolo flanking them, and then Hatchet.

And Z.

She followed along at his side, expression focused as she kept pace with him. With her rifle cradled in her arms, she looked every bit the soldier, despite her diminutive stature. If she had reminded him of a caged predator at the start of the day, now she reminded him of a stalking predator - and wasn't that what humans had evolved to be, after all? Persistence predators that walked their prey to death.

And wasn't that what we were made to be, as well?

For a time, they made their way through the fog in silence, with only the sounds of sand-muffled footsteps and servo motors to mark their passage. Steel blue evening gave way to indigo twilight which, in turn, faded to the inky black of night; the planet's moons hadn't yet risen, and only their optic lights illuminated the fog in shades of vivid crimson.

And, in little increments as the night progressed, he noticed Z starting to lag. By the time the moons had risen, she was half a dozen paces behind him and hadn't moved to catch up yet.

Even human stamina had its limits.

"Eh, hey," Hatchet paused and held his hand out to her, beckoning her closer; "come on, up."

She regarded the outstretched hand with something almost like wariness, then looked away again to hide a yawn, adjusting the rifle strap across her shoulders.

"I don't need to be carried," she scoffed, "I'm not a child."

"No," He acquiesced, "but you are tired, and you'll fall behind if you keep being stubborn. You recall what I said, about relying on us, yes?"

Z scowled, then sighed, and turned to clamber up and settle into the crook of his elbow - though she also made a show of sulking about it, crossing her arms over her chest and all but hiding her face in her coat.

"There, see? Not so bad, is it." He adjusted his pace to catch back up to the rest of the column. Then, "there is no shame in accepting help from your brothers, little sister."

"Yeah, well… that's not the lesson I learned, growing up…"

"I am sorry for that, and I hope you will let us show you a better way, going forward."

"…I'll try."

She fell silent after that, and Hatchet felt the tension slowly drain from her taut shoulders. Soon, the rest of her body followed suit, sagging against his side even as her breathing slowed and evened out.

If he could have smiled, he would have the moment a soft little snore reached his audio receivers.

What a strange, stubborn, wonderful little creature.

[katesfoxhole]

You're on your eighth hour idling in one of this planet's denser wild orchards waiting to link up with elements from an assault regiment. Suddenly your vox chatters to life with imperial transmissions in rough low gothic.

A few minutes later a troop of sentinels in green camouflage striped with a dark yellow come clanking through the trees. Chainblades mounted to their hulls whir and whine as they carve a path through the thicker parts of the underbrush, and bursts from heavy flamers incinerate what they can't cut through. Prowling around their stomping mechanical feet is a skirmish line of some of the roughest Imperial troopers you've ever seen.

Uniform discipline obviously isn't high on their list of priorities. No two troopers are kitted out exactly the same, some in flak armor, some in camo vests. A few of the troopers aren't wearing any tops at all, their upper bodies clothed only in ammo bandoliers and sheaths for wicked-looking combat knives.

A command salamander in the same paint job as the sentinels pulls up alongside your track. A woman stands in the top deck, clad in a tank top and flak vest, her bared arms gripping the heavy flamer.

She pushes her tanker goggles up on to her forehead and shouts across to your track.

"Corporal Zendra. 17th Catachan Assault Regiment. I hear you all are gonna lead us in for the attack," she calls with a grin.

Cool fic!

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Lost In The Fire

17 - I Might Break And Bend To My Basic Need to Be Loved And Close To Somebody

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC Dayanara Vyse

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected!piv (wrap before you tap) canon typical violence, sad!Din

A/N: I think you know what happens in this one.

The first flight of Stormtroopers came in fast and hard.

Din and Fennec, who Boba had brought along after saving her, teamed up to take down a large portion of the infantry. Boba saw that the Razor Crest's hatch had been left open and he made a run for it.

He wanted that armor. He would be of more help with it than without. Daya hid behind boulders as she followed Boba down toward the ship. She snuck in behind Boba, going up to the cockpit to grab the data chip with her clan's location and the one that Fox had given them. She didn't want Imperials getting a hold of those. Next, she slid down the ladder and was met by Boba.

"You shouldn't be down here. You should be up there with your boyfriend." He said gruffly and Daya smirked. She wasn't going to deny any of that.

"Just had to grab something. Might help." She said, reaching for the Amban Pulse Rifle. Boba nodded in agreement then put his helmet on. They both made their way back up to the fighting, taking out several Stormtroopers that had come off the second transport on their way back up. The rifle, the size of Daya, was difficult for her to carry but was an excellent melee weapon, as she could swing it around in a five foot radius and hit anything. Several of the troopers had succumbed to the electric prongs on the end. 

When Boba and Daya finally reached Din and Fennec. They noticed the troopers had begun to retreat. The transports lifted off and that was when Boba decided they weren't getting away

He aimed for the closer ship, but his jetpack missile hit the other one, effectively knocking both from the sky.

"Nice shot." Din said, stepped up closer to Boba.

"I was aiming for the other one." He said with a lilt of humor in his voice. Daya swore she heard Din chuckle slightly but then out of the sky a huge red ion bolt rained down.

And tragedy struck.

♡

It all happened so fast. 

The ion bolt decimated the Razor Crest.

Decimated, destroyed, incinerated. The Crest was ashes. Nothing left. And Din couldn't believe his eyes. 

The next thing was the Kid.

Dark troopers had been sent down to grab him and it was all Din and Daya could do to get up to him in time. 

Daya had arrived on the henge before Din, scrambling up the rocks and just as her feet met the flat plateau of the top, a Dark Trooper, something she'd never seen before, threw her hard into one of the stone pillars, making her black out from the impact.

When she came to, only a few moments later, Din was trying to rouse her, then he was carrying her, and then he was following Boba to his ship.

The last thing Daya saw before she drifted back out of consciousness was Din's visor laser focused on getting her to safety.

♡

The kid is gone. The Razor Crest is gone. The only thing he still had was Daya. Though he's gained new allies, it barely matters. He's depressed. He's distraught. And the only one who really knows that is Daya. And she took a hit for the kid. He felt physically ill seeing her doubled over in pain. His stomach was in knots carrying her to Boba's ship, laying her down on the makeshift bed, and letting Fennec take over. 

Din sat in the co-pilot's seat while Boba put in coordinates to Nevarro. First order of business was to find someone who knew how to find Moff Gideon's light cruiser. Din guessed that perhaps an ex-Imperial might know how to do that. The only ex-Imperial he knew was Mayfeld.

♡

The Dark Trooper came at her, the others flying up into the air, one with Grogu in tow. She'd only ever been one-shotted that hard once before and this felt different because the last time she'd actually been shot. This time, her back hit the ground so hard, she'd known immediately that something was broken. The Dark Trooper flew away, leaving her there, breath knocked out of her completely. The first to her side had been Din, then Fennec, and then Boba. Din picked her up carefully, and she wanted so badly to speak but she felt like she couldn't get a word out or take a breath in. She wondered if this was what it felt like to drown. 

She knew Din was angry that she'd been injured. She knew he was sad about Grogu. She knew he was devastated about the Crest. All that, and he still carried her to Boba's ship. He set her down carefully and then Fennec sent him away. Fennec did her best with what they had. She pulled Daya's armor off and examined her back. 

"I think you broke some ribs. Might need to hang out in a bacta tank. But for now I can just wrap it for support and give you something for the pain." Fennec explained, being careful as she placed a bacta patch over the area that had already bruised, then a gauze pad for cushion, then a wrap around Daya's lower middle ribs. She then gave Daya something to drink, which tasted like absolute shit, that she almost spat out. 

"Sorry. Dissolved pain meds in it. Figured that'd be easier than just downing the powder." Fennec said with a small smile, trying to be reassuring. Daya nodded and closed her eyes. Fennec squeezed her shoulder and Daya heard her footsteps retreat. 

Everything sounded loud. Daya swore she could hear the instrumentation in the cockpit beeping, heavy footfalls coming up and down the ramp, the clink of beskar, and shifting of leather and wool. She could literally hear Din's cape swish behind him. Those were good drugs, she thought as she began to slip in and out of consciousness.

♡

Din knelt beside Daya. He took her hand in his. He didn't want to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open slightly, then she closed them completely again, leaving a small smirk on the corner of her lips. He took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh and switched positions, deciding to sit beside her on the floor. He held his knees with one arm, chin rested on his arm, and the fingers of that hand woven through Daya's. Her breathing was more shallow than normal, but he suspected breaking ribs did that. He sat there for a while, contemplating their next move. He wanted to check with Boba as to where they were in their journey, so he began to take his hand away from hers and she stirred slightly.

"Wait...don't pull away...not yet." She said softly. The dulled gold in her eyes told him what he needed to know. She would not be strong enough to go on this mission with him. He made his decision then.

"I'm going to have to take you home." He said softly, pushing hair out of her face. Her brow furrowed and a greater look of concern flooded her expression. The thought of being away from Din, especially now, drowned her in sorrow.

"No...no...I just need bacta...and I'll be fine." She rasped, her voice breaking.

"You need to heal." He said, his voice unsteady too. He carefully took one of her hands in his and caressed her cheek. This probably wasn't the time for him to make a decision as big as this. He didn't even know if he could bring her home yet. Was her family back home or were they still on the run?

"I need to stay with you." She muttered, adjusting herself with difficulty. She wanted to sit up. She wanted to try to do whatever she could to convince him to not make a stupid choice.

"Daya." He said, as he rose to his knees, his hands still on her. He was demanding. She was pleading.

"Din...please..." She begged, pain and fear evident. Din could hear it and it hurt him too. Maybe he could work something out but he settled for pressing his helmet to her forehead, and letting go of her hands for the moment. He stayed with her for a while longer, waiting for her to fall asleep again. 

♡

Daya was out. She was dreaming of Maker only knew what. Din almost wished he knew. He made his way from the belly of the Slave I to the cockpit, where Boba Fett sat in the pilot's seat and Fennec Shand as copilot.

"I owe you both." Din said softly, placing a hand on each of their headrests. They both glanced back at him, then at each other. Boba swiveled his chair to face Din.

"Where do you need to go?" He asked and Din sighed heavily, his brain filing through everything that had happened. He didn't even know where to start.

"I need to go to Nevarro. I have friends there who can help. I also need to figure out what to do with Daya. She needs to rest and heal." He explained. Boba nodded and let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, try to convince her of that." He joked and it made Din smile.

One of the biggest things about Daya was that even though she was a Princess, she didn't want that to define her. She'd never backed down or out of a fight. She wouldn't ever let anyone tell her she couldn't do something. She didn't want to be treated like some delicate flower. She didn't want sympathy or pity. 

And she certainly didn’t want to be left out.

♡

"Premonitions...are...dangerous. Do not ever read too much into them, for they can be wrong. They can give you false hope." A'denla said, holding Daya's hands in hers. "You've been granted this gift by the Stars, my child. A second chance."

Daya agreed with her. She'd come to discuss the dreams that she'd been having. Mostly nightmares of the mission...but there was another dream that kept popping up. It was not every night like the nightmares but it was enough that she knew it had to mean something.

"Tell me again, ad'ika." A'denla said softly, turning Daya's hands in hers so her palms were now face up. She let then rest gently in the older woman's hands. Daya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, recalling the imagery from her dreams.

"It starts off similar to the nightmares. We're in a ship. I think it's Rhae but then this Mandalorian turns around. He's in bright, new, shining beskar. He reaches for my hands. His gloves are orange and black like Rhae's. He doesn't say anything. He just pulls me close and he takes my hand and places it on his chest, over his ka'rta beskar. I hear chanting behind us." Daya explains, and A'denla just makes a humming sound before asking her to continue. "They're beating their fists over their chests and chanting 'Mand'alor...Mand'alor." 

"And you think you are destined to meet this Mandalorian?" She asks and Daya's brow furrows.

"If not then why do I keep dreaming about him?"

♡

The next time Din checked on Daya, she was sitting up, holding her side. He quickly takes stock of her whole being. She didn't seem terribly distressed or in great pain. He hoped the medicine and bacta patches Fennec used were helping. They seemed to be. He took up the spot on the bed next to her. She stared blankly down at the floor and he moved hair from her face so he could see her eyes. They still looked dull. Din put an arm around her shoulders carefully and with a finger under her chin, guided her to look up at the visor. 

"You okay?" He asked, gloved fingers spreading over her cheek. She pushed into his hand, the smell of leather filling her nostrils. She glanced up at the visor again, then swallowed hard. 

"I'd dreamt of you before I met you." She said then took a deep breath, wincing at the apex of the breath. Din didn't know how to take that exactly so he stayed silent hoping she'd elaborate on it further and of course she did. "I dreamt of you becoming the Mand'alor."

"That's silly. I could never lead..." He began but then stopped himself. "Those pain meds must be pretty strong..."

"Not enough for me to make up what you think is nonsense." She said, sounding slightly annoyed. Din immediately felt like a jerk. He shouldn't have said that, but when he went to apologize, she was standing, albeit uncomfortably, so he helped her the rest of the way up. "What's the plan? Are you getting rid of me?"

He stood and stepped toward her in an attempt to support her in her weakened state. He scoffed and pulled her close. She gritted her teeth, knowing he didn't mean to hurt her, but the motion gave her a twinge that went straight through to her broken ribs. 

"I'm not getting rid of you. I can't." Din said, doing his best to not touch her right side. He leaned in, nearly caging her body with his. It made Daya feel hot and bothered even through the pain as he spoke. "You've got me flesh and bone. Body and soul. I can't let you go."

She pressed her nose to the visor and closed her eyes, feeling him full body sigh as she relaxed in his arms. He listened for a moment, before his hands crept around to her ass. He lifted her carefully, then began to walk towards the cot. 

"Daya...I..." He began, stammering over his words and through the haze of pain, she was able to focus for a few moments, realizing what he wanted. Or what she thought he wanted.

"Need you...Din." She whispered near his ear as he sat down. He was careful, keeping his hands around her ass, and if he had to move, only running his left hand up her back. Her arms were wound around his neck, holding on for dear life. He knew she needed him not only intimately in this moment, but that their lives were intertwined and there was no going back now. Because he loved her.

"Daya, I...lo..." He stuttered, trying to get the words out, but as always she helped him and said it first.

"Din. I love you. You can't..." Her breath caught, tears forming, as she'd begun to tell him he couldn't leave but he affirmed that he wasn't. He was so gentle and so careful with her, especially now.

"I'm not...I'm not...I can't...I love you too much to let you out of my sight." He finally said, shaking his head, gloves pressing tighter into her ass. His heart was beating so hard he thought she might feel it through the beskar. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he lifted her, moving her so that he could unzip his flight suit. "I need you too."

He pulled her leggings and panties down just enough, sheathing himself inside of her with ease, and then he stilled.1 She moaned quietly, realizing through the pleasure and pain that maybe this wasn't the best time for this but she did start it and she would see it through. She knew he would be easy. He would control himself. And he did. He sat still as a statue. He wanted to move but he wouldn't. He wanted to absolutely rail her, but he didn't. 

"Did you...did you hear what I said?" He stammered, voice barely above a whisper through the modulator. Her fingers tugged at his neck seal, making the hair at the base of his neck available to her. 

"Say it again." She demanded, the tip of her nose at the visor. Without it, their noses would be touching. Din didn't know if he could handle that. He might lose all semblance of control. Her fingers in his hair, being so close yet so far away from having his helmet off already had him feeling some sort of way. He spoke the words.

"I love you." He said, voice soft and slow, but somehow still low and thick with lust. "You mean so much more to me than you realize, Daya. You're my weakness. The forge that will melt my beskar heart." He stopped his serenade, to pull her closer than she thought possible. 

"You've reshaped me into a man I don't recognize."

[shadowmaat]

Since no one's sending me prompts I guess I'll do it myself. lol

Endless- Maul, Old Guard AU

Maul is killed on Naboo and wakes up whole and alive. Most of the prequels stuff stays the same, but Maul is, for a while, convinced he's some kind of god. When he meets up with Savage he's convinced his brother is just like him, so when Savage dies and stays dead, it shatters something in him he didn't know he had. He's also captured by Palpatine and tortured/experimented upon because immortality is absolutely something that withered bastard wants.

Maul still isn't able to defeat Palps, which is another big mark against the "I'm a god" theory, but he does finally escape and goes off to lick his wounds and try to recover.

The Jedi are still wiped out, but while at first this seems like a good thing to him, there is an emptiness to existence that wasn't there before. Palpatine being in charge of the galaxy galls, and worse, he's doing a bad job of it, in Maul's opinion. It doesn't help that when Empire troopers see him they assume he's a Jedi and try to kill him. Sometimes succeeding.

One of the reasons Maul never got a chance at bettering himself is because he was too consumed with his own grievances to see past the end of his nose, but now he has an eternity to learn and eventually... he does.

Sure, part of it is still fueled by his anger at the universe, but over time he finds he likes helping others. It's strange and off-putting to encounter people who are kind to him and who don't fear him. Once upon a time he'd have been insulted, but now it's... nice. Ish.

He still backslides a lot because, well, he's Maul, but also backsliding is part of moving forward. He helps the Rebellion here and there because anyone who wants to destroy Palpatine is welcome, as far as he's concerned. If he meets the twins, he definitely favors Leia over Luke.

By the time the Sequels happen, Maul has been on the "good" end of the spectrum for a while. Maybe the lower end of it, but still good. He's absolutely not putting up with this First Order bullshit.

Lots of stuff is still the same, but I'll say Maul was fucking around on the Deth Star X-treme! so the attempt to wipe out Hosnia system partially failed. Still lots of death and destruction, but enough of the central government survives that they're forced to realize they may have made a mistake with all their waffling. Maybe.

Maul kills Snoke and is killed in return. While some underlings drag the bodies off to the incinerators, Kylo and Hux are in a standoff over who's in charge.

Maul wakes up and knocks out the troopers carrying him and Snoke, then stashes them in a room without any means of communication. See? He can learn not to kill everyone. Plus, if Fin could rebel maybe these guys will, too. Snoke burns, and Maul heads off to the reactor thingy in time to see Han talking to Kylo.

It's very important for me to note here that there is absolutely no way to excuse Kylo's choice to kill his father: with Snoke dead it is absolutely his own choice to put a saber through Han's chest. Except thanks to some timely intervention from Maul, Han is only grievously wounded instead because fuck you, Harrison Ford.

Maul taunts Kylo, saying that he's met Anakin Skywalker and can confirm that Kylo is just like him: a sniveling, spoiled brat with more hair than sense. He also says Kylo doesn't deserve the name Ben because Obi-Wan, at least, was a worthy opponent.

They fight, giving our plucky heroes time to drag Han to the safety of the ship. Kylo is all you don't understaaand, but Maul is very been there, done that, don't even have the scars to prove it.

Is there a chance Kylo could someday learn to be a better person? Maybe, but it took Maul seventy-odd years and a lot of deaths to unstubborn himself and he really isn't in the mood to take that chance.

Now. At this point it could go one of two ways: the fast solution is Maul kills Kylo and then it's just a matter of wiping out Hux and Phasma and getting Fin to help "deprogram" the troopers and dismantle the Order. OR Kylo could kill Maul and go off to have the big fight in the snow with Rey and Fin while Maul, who isn't recovering as fast as he used to, struggles to get back to the ship and trusts his apprentice(s) to handle it.

With the former the Resistance is going to realize that a First Order without Darksiders mucking things up is actually a lot more dangerous and harder to kill, though it still gets done in the end.

With the latter, the drama lasts longer and it'll be Rey who winds up killing Kylo only to get killed, herself. ...And wake up.

Either way, the trip to Luke's Sooper Seekrit Hideout includes Maul. Because I can play god with this, I'll say that Luke isn't sulking out his entire life on Ahch-To, but rather went there for Important Reasons and got stuck. He and Maul can be bickering co-Masters to Rey's training (and eventually Fin's). Maul teaches her how to create mental shields so Kylo can't intrude on her thoughts (if he's still alive).

The baddies are eventually defeated. Maul & Rey have a lot to talk about re: near-immortality. Han, Leia, Luke, and Chewie are reunited and happy to retire for good, maybe with Lando. Fin & Poe are tasked with trying to return the dozens of children saved from First Order training camps, but it's likely they're going to be raising a lot of them themselves.

Maul is finally comfortable and satisfied with the person he's become. He may not be able to change the past, but he can help shape the future. And he can try to prepare Rey for whatever may be coming next.

(Maul isn't the only immortal, just the only one relevant to this particular story)

[zilochius]

Incinerator trooper