#OC: Claribel Fyre

[aly-the-writer]

Untitled (Can’t think of one, will add one if I do.)

Fandom: SWTOR

Characters: Claribel Fyre (female smuggler), Valirek Silver (male Jedi consular), Arcann (in background)

Pairing: Val/Arcann (pre-relationship)

This is where the Prince Asshat line comes from. Decided that once I’ve edited it 3-4 times I needed to post it somewhere. Not planning to put it up on Ao3. It’s just a quick scene in the Cantina with Clari and Val chatting.

Green eyes studied her cards with only half interest – they were playing with a real deck out of habit since her husband refused to let her near anything digital. (Cheat at a game one time (okay, maybe a few more times than one) and you really never get trusted again.)

Her opponent was losing – badly – which was unusual for him.

In the time since they’d first met aboard the Esseles the Jedi had become as good at the game as she was – or very nearly. It wasn’t unusual for him to lose a few hands but not every single one since they’d sat down.

As much as she’d enjoy using his credits to restock her candy caches when the game was this easy even she’d start feeling a little guilty over it.

He wasn’t nearly sullen enough to be sick. The prickly interior that was hidden by all that Jedi fluffiness showed through when Val was sick or hurt or tired – the last being most frequent as the man had a penchant for overworking himself but it was still strange to see.

The expression he was wearing was odd too – some sort of amalgamation between confusion and uncertainty that had his brows doing just the slightest furrow between them. The smile wasn’t the grin he wore while relaxing but the patented patient Jedi half-smile that signaled he felt he had to mask whatever he was actually feeling.

His eyes flicked to something over her shoulder again,

Twisting in her seat she followed the subject of the silvery gaze over her shoulder to where Prince Asshat was sitting. Wait a minute…no…no – every instinct said that’s what it was but really? No…that was impossible, wasn’t it? But then, that look…

She was fairly certain the look she turned back to Val with was a look of pure shock: “Val!”

“What?” the Jedi jumped slightly at her tone.

“No.”

A slightly irritated expression crossed his face, mostly out of confusion: “No what?”

“Do not get feelings for the Stray Mass Murdering Psychopath that the Commander let follow him home,” she hissed, lowering her voice since they were getting a few stares. Last thing she needed was someone nosy poking into the conversation and providing Val an escape.

A series of slow blinks followed as the wheels in the Jedi’s brain turned – she could just about see them as he processed it.

He coughed slightly and looked away, murmuring half to himself before his eyes went back to where Arcann was sitting: “Feelings, huh? Is that what it looks like?”

Had the thought really just occurred to the Jedi? He’d been watching Arcann intently enough for how long?

Clari gave him a withering look, “Vaaaal.”

“It’s not like you’re thinking Clari,” he said at last. “You know me – I’ve never been interested in any of that, don’t you think I’m a little old to start developing crushes now? Besides I’m a Jedi. Attachments and all.”

She crossed her arms, scowling at Valirek – it wasn’t like she could argue that particular point. In all the time she’d known Val he wasn’t the sort to become interested in people in any way that went beyond platonic.

Still...the excuse sounded just like that – an excuse.

Or an argument with himself – a reason to deny any sort of feelings that might be there in favor of continuing to be that perfect Jedi he’d sacrificed so much of his life becoming. An argument that he was probably losing…

She kept her silence – one of them would break first and it was usually Val.

This time the Jedi held her gaze until she sighed, breaking the staring contest and glancing back at Arcann who seemed to be completely absorbed in whatever conversation he and Senya were having:

“Fine. Okay – do whatever you want but…Val? Getting involved with Arcann is a bad idea.”

[aly-the-writer]

The Bounty

Fandom: SWTOR

Pairings: Bounty Hunter/Smuggler (SFW)

Characters:  Male Bounty Hunter (Izar Nuncio), Female Smuggler (Claribel Fyre)

A holocall that occurs between Izar and Clari at the start of Chapter 3.

“Ten million credits?” the woman on the portable holo cackled. “Damn, Nuncio, it’s almost enough to make me decide bounty hunting is worth it.”

He took his eyes off the blaster he was carefully disassembling and cleaning to glower a little: “You know I’m innocent, don’t you?”

“Not of blowing up that Jedi you’re not,” she pointed out, a smirk playing across her lips. “I saw the charges, there’s a bunch of inflated ones but there’s enough of them that are real that if you get bagged alive you’re gonna end up somewhere nice and cozy, probably with a lot of SIS hospitality.”

“I heard you annoyed another Moff – without Jedi help this time too,” Izar sighed instead, leaning back in his seat and reaching for his cup of caff.

Technically he knew he should have caught her and turned her over to the Butcher. They’d both still been small time when she’d had that bounty set on her heels. If not the Butcher than the rather sparsely detailed one from Imperial Intelligence that Mako had dug up should have tempted him.

Still there was business and there were friendships and he knew which one he valued more.

Though friendship wasn’t quite the right word. He’d fallen hard when he’d met her but he wasn’t sure about the gunslinger’s feelings towards him.

“It’s apparently a talent,” came the shrug. “Not liking how much attention I’m getting from your side of the line these days. Can I go back to being a two-bit smuggler with an attitude problem?”

“That ever change?” he teased.

She smiled back and lifted her glass to him in a silent salute.

“Hey, Captain? We’re getting close,” Corso’s voice signaled the end of their chat.

Besides, his own crew had to be getting them close to the coordinates on that Imperial Summons. Which he was not going to tell the smuggler about because she’d call him ten kinds of idiot and threaten to shoot him in the foot the next time she saw him.

With Clari’s temper she probably would too.

“Well you heard him, I gotta go,” the green eyed woman pulled her hair back into its usual pony tail.

“Fly safe, Captain,” he smiled to her.

“Always do,” came the grin before her brows creased in worry – was that worry? He’d not seen her look concerned like that before, not about anyone except her brother anyways – “Izar, look out for yourself, okay? Just…be careful.”

“I will be,” he promised her before he’d even really thought the words through.  “You too, Clari.”

[aly-the-writer]

What Moves in Shadow

Prompt: “There’s blood on my/your hands.” OC of your choice :)

Went with Izar Nuncio and Claribel Fyre for this one...only the first real thing I write with them in forever is an AU where Clari continued her Imperial training and Izar went on with his plan to enlist in the Republic Army. Usually Clari is my Voidhound and Izar the Great Hunt Champion. So they’re faction swapped for this one.

“You have blood on your hands,” he snapped, trying to pull away from the woman’s hands. This mission had gone from unpleasant to the fires of a Corellian hell. His comrades were dead and he was alone except for this spook and whatever was in the shadows hunting them.

“You want to bleed out do it on someone else’s time, asshole,” she snapped, glaring at him before stabbing him none too gently with a kolto injection. “As for who killed who, pretty sure that’s what war is about but whatever that is,” she flicked her hand out to indicate the darkness beyond the flickering light source she’d set up in order to treat him, “Isn’t something either of us signed on to deal with.”

The woman was dressed in black combat attire, lightweight materials that didn’t provide as much protection as the heavier armor he’d been wearing (although considering whatever it was that was out there in the shadows had sheared straight through his heavy armor and that of the rest of his squad he wasn’t sure that mattered at the moment).

“Now, I would like a chance to survive this so I either leave you here to play bait and figure my own way out or we work together.” The field medicine complete she sat back on her haunches to look at him. “Otherwise your people are gonna send a rescue squad down here for a bunch of dead men and get those people killed too.”

He didn’t want to admit it but the Republic was unlikely to not investigate what went wrong that the squad never reported back. And...he didn’t want to die. Not yet.

“Alright.”

“What do I call you then, I don’t think ‘idiot’ is appropriate now that we’re working together.”

“Nuncio,” he snorted. “What about you agent? You got a name?”

“Actually, no, I don’t,” she said getting to her feet and shouldering her rifle before offering him a hand up. “‘Agent’ works fine, that’s what everyone else calls me.” She wasn’t about to give her designation to a Republic soldier, not when if they got out of this alive she planned on either killing him herself or letting him go.

“What do your friends call you if you don’t have a name?”

“...there’s a monster hunting us and you’re worried about my name?”

“For all I know you are the monster hunting me.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got Intelligence confused for the Sith if you think I could pull off leaving your squad in that many pieces, Nuncio,” she gave him a look before returning to checking her information - not surprising to see that the probes she’d sent out weren’t transmitting anymore. There were some crazy electrical signals that accompanied the attack before that had caused a weird feedback into her left eye.

Her partner - the senior agent on the mission - had told her not to worry about it and then a moment later something had knocked out their lights, torn her partner’s arm off and dragged him screaming into the darkness - although the screams hadn’t lasted long - and the sudden snuffing of the sounds echoing through the maze of stone halls had been nearly alarming as the knowledge of her counterpart’s suffering.

“Hey - your electrical equipment flare up right before the attack?” Nuncio was rummaging through the heavy pack he’d had near him when she’d found the soldier. “Our scanning equipment started reacting something then our comms and lights went out. Heard Tully start screaming about his leg being gone and then the lights came back and he was in pieces.”

“Yeah - why?”

“Because that means we’re gonna have to do this old school if we’re going to see what’s out there,” he said as he made a little triumphant noise while pulling out a cannister. “You got any idea about the way out of here?”

“Somewhat…” she nodded trailing off. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it - you seem like a gal that likes surprises. This one will be good, I promise.”

She eyed him - a part of her wanted to grin, another part of her wanted to remind him that they weren’t really allies.

She flinched, her vision in her left eye going white as the electrical signal that whatever was attacking them gave off interfered with the cybernetics feeding information into her visual processing.

“It’s coming!” she warned.

There was the sound of something slithering across the stone at high speeds and then pain shot up her right arm before it went numb...no, not actually numb - the pain relays had hit the safety blocks and shut down - and her arm was a sparking stub below her elbow.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and dragged her back as fire lit up the room, the spot where she’d been standing impaled by a sharp spear-like metallic insectoid-limb.

The creature it belonged to hissed out a scream as the flames caught it, partially mechanical partially flesh it looked like a massive centipede, a monster with blades for feet and snapping jaws which had been what tore away her cybernetic limb. Along its back was armored - dents from where it’d been pinged by shots fired during earlier attacks throwing back the firelight.

It flailed almost blindly - the light in the room messing with its optical sensors, unaccustomed to any sort of brightness - as Nuncio kept at it with his makeshift flamethrower.

The rifle was a no-go with only one hand, but she managed to get her side-arm (the one that she usually only used to threaten annoying people at cantinas with) up and firing shots at the writhing mass of metal and insectoid flesh.

Another blood-curdling scream and the creature fell to the ground, still twitching but otherwise no longer thrashing in an attempt to attack.

“Well….that worked. Fuck, your arm!” he turned quickly towards her, thinking to stop the bleeding only to stare. “...is not bleeding.”

“Cybernetics, the nerve feeds have a kill switch for the pain levels that triggered automatically. Can’t feel a thing,” she replied grimly. “We should probably go - in case that thing starts moving again or there’s more.”

“You really think it’s gonna get up again?”

She gave a shrug, returning the blaster to its place at her thigh and then scooping her rifle up with her still working hand. “Looks like Sith alchemy to me, I don’t take chances there...and...thanks.”

“What for, Agent?” puzzlement clear in his voice. The soldier smirked a bit as the portable lantern flicked back to full life and gesturing for her to lead the way out of the death-tunnels.

Beginning to walk - and ignoring the itch between her shoulders at letting an armed enemy walk behind her when she was already impaired defensively - she answered: “My life, if you’d not moved when you did.”

“Not a problem, Agent.”

“Clari. My friends, such that they are, call me Clari.”

“Well then, Clari, sorry for being an ass about you saving my life first.”

“...I was planning to shoot you when we got back to the surface.”

“Oookay, a little less sorry now. You Imperial types really have a mean streak to you, don’t you?”

[aly-the-writer]

One falling asleep with their head in the other's lap.

Okay, so since you didn’t ask for anyone in specific I assumed it was writer’s choice…and then since I couldn’t decide who I wanted to write out of these guys I just did all three.

So we have three drabbles herefeaturing: my IA, Aydin, and his bf/hubby my JK Dak. Then Tusin (my SI and Outlander) and Theron. And lastly my BH Izar and his wife the smuggler Claribel.

I. Aydin& Dak

It wasn’t as though either of them hated their lives, for all thedisaster that their work lives seemed to be determined to make of their actuallives, but if he were honest it really was the quiet nights when nothing hadgone wrong and it seemed like for just once they could by Aydin and Dak ratherthan an agent and a Jedi that he loved the most.

Dak had picked out some holomovie about swashbuckling archaeologists-slash-smugglersracing against greedy Hutt-funded treasure hunters all while attempting tosurvive unleashing a wrathful Sith spirit. It wasn’t a bad movie, he wasactually rather enjoying it despite the outdated graphics style that was utilized.

Still he kept getting distracted, during the course of the movie theblond Zabrak had resituated himself so that he was stretched out on his side,his head pillowed by Aydin’s lap. The change in his breathing – Aydin had onehand resting on Dak’s shoulder - indicating that the Jedi had probably fallenasleep.

The Mirialan smiled softly to himself, even the fact that so far both Kiraand Doc had peaked into the room and whispered (or the closest approximation toa whisper anyone on this vessel could manage) about how cute they were, thiswas a good night.

II.  Tusin& Theron

Voss had been an exhausting battle – emotionally taxing as well asphysically. A large number of their people had been injured or lost. They hadwon – but only through the assistance of the Sith Empire. A fact that hadrankled Tusin earlier despite his casualness when speaking with Acina, a womanwith whom he had stood equal with.

The healers were doing the best they could, and according to them they wouldn’tlose anyone else. It was a bit of good news that Lana was eager to share.

She found the Commander leaned against one of the walls of the nowscarred Shrine of Healing, his head tilted back against the stone and his eyesclosed. It had probably started as meditating but she suspected that he had fallenasleep sometime after the second body joined him.

The blond Sith smiled a little – Theron Shan was laying on the floor,Tusin’s heavier outer-robe over him as a blanket, while the agent’s head restedon the Pureblood’s lap. The fingers of one of the Sith’s hands interlocked withthose of one of the agent’s as if both had wanted to be sure that the otherwould still be there when they woke.

The report could wait a while longer, and if she took a quiet pic of thepair that wasn’t something that anyone else needed to know.

III. Claribel& Izar

“You’re not comfy,” the comment from the woman made him smile as he kepthis eyes on the movement in the camp.

Four years of marriage and the woman still complained about how uncomfortableusing beskar-clad thighs as pillows werewhile she continued to insist on doing it.

He knew that some among his adopted people would never approve of his riduur but he’d bet every credit thatthe smuggler was every bit as tough as any Mando woman – she certainly was justas stubborn as any he’d ever met.

“You sure, sweetheart? Most peopledon’t sleep two hours if their pillows ain’t that comfy,” he grinned, reachingdown to brush some of her bangs aside.

“Mm…only two hours?” she muttered. “Never mind, I need more sleep.”

Withthat declaration she rolled over to face his stomach, her cheek pillowedagainst his leg and curled up a little, dropping right back to sleep, not even fiveminutes later beginning to snore again. He smiled, resting one hand on theblaster at his hip and the other protectively on her hip as he continued hiswatch.

[aly-the-writer]

♬ ❄

Nonnie! I didn’t know you were still sitting in my inbox. Sorry about these taking so long (though I’ve had them done for a few weeks now (woops)), and thanks for your patience!

Prompt: Downtime with Senya

Character: Valirek Silver (Jedi Consular)

“Here,” the soft spoken voice behind her was a bit of a surprise. She’d not spent a lot of time with the others in the burgeoning Alliance, instead letting herself worry about what fate this burgeoning organization would bring for her children. They were monsters because of their father but…could she really just accept that and abandon them?

The man who’d approached had a mug of tea extended towards her, his eyes were a soft gray shade and his hair starkly white despite his youth.  

“It’s a little cold out,” he explained as she slowly accepted the mug. “And now I’m being rude,” he grinned as if the surge of suspicion from her was something he could sense. “My name is Valirek Silver. I’ve been asked to join as a representative of Jedi interests in the conflict.”

“You’re a little young to represent the Jedi aren’t you?”

“A complaint I have had since I was placed on the Council, I assure you.” The smile was soft and genuine, as he joined her at the railing, raising his own mug to his lips to sip.

The silence hung between them the soft sort that didn’t require it to be broken by nervous chatter or forceful questions.

She lifted hers to inhale the scent, curious as to what it was - something unfamiliar but faintly floral.

“Why not join the others in the cantina to celebrate?”

“Parties are fine for those who do enjoy them, one of whom I am decidedly not, and I thought that the tea might be a good gesture. You can’t have an easy time these last few months knowing that any of those you talk to might be the one ultimately responsible for the deaths of your children.”

She frowned a little, eyes narrowing with anger as she jerked her gaze sharply off the landscape to the man beside her only to find there wasn’t any judgement in his expression.

“…it’s not wrong of you to care for them, or to fear for what this war will bring to them and out of them. And it is not wrong of you to care or fear for those you are coming to know here on Odessen.” He paused, looking down at his tea before glancing back to her, “I’d be happy to make you tea again - if you decide you’d like someone to listen or if you’d just like some more tea.”

He gave her a slight bow: polite and friendly in the Jedi’s standoffish manner before he began to walk towards the building, meaning to give her the privacy she had come out here to seek in the first place.

“Wait - how did you know?”

That got her a long, thoughtful silence, “I should claim it was an educated guess but you felt…lonely when I sensed your emotions earlier. I simply wished to help if I could.”

♬   OC’s reaction to having to be on Hoth or Ilum.

Character: Claribel & Valirek

“Fsk-fsk-fsk,” the first blast of icy wind was greeted by a series of hissed half-curses and the smuggler yanking her scarf up all the way to her goggles, clearly regretting answering the holo that had brought her to the planet.

“I did promise there would be no risk of crazy Moffs flushing us out the air locks. Look - no air locks,” the Jedi gestured out to the frozen landscape.

“Val, I hate you sometimes,” she informed him sourly, “Why am I here?”

“You owe me a favor,” the Jedi smirked, the expression hidden by his own cold weather gear as he approached the waiting Tauntauns.

“Favors don’t include ice cubes with creepy Force magic rocks that are crawling with Sith.”

“They do when you borrow my clearance codes without asking,” he chuckled. “I need your expertise here. I don’t know how to spot smugglers’ boltholes but there’s a good chance the Empire will use them.”

“I’m never playing cards with you again,” she glowered as she hauled herself into the Tauntaun’s saddle. “There’s a few places acquaintances of acquaintances used to use the Imps might know about.”

[aly-the-writer]

Aly’s Fic Masterlist

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