#and the apparent lack of thumbs threw me off a bit with the lightsaber? how does he hold things?

[redbean-nom]

Beast Squadron - Phoenix Cell, 2BBY

featuring adult Omega, the cadets from the sarlacc planet, and adult Bayrn as their resident jedi!

Thoughts, details, and individual shots below the cut:

Their squad name is from the fact that both of their big inaugural missions were related to some sort of giant monster - the cadets killed the jungle sarlacc and Omega (with bayrn's not-help) released the zillo. All the cadets have a sarlacc motif on their armor (though Stak's isn't as visible since it's mostly on his helmet), and Omega and Bayrn both have a zillo design.

Omega was promoted from pilot to fulcrum-adjacent strategic officer. The cadets are probably commando cadets (or at least CCs of some sort), so Mox (beardy) is commando-adjacent, Deke (white streak) is ARC-adjacent, and Stak (buzzcut) is a lead pilot. Bayrn is just there to fill the token jedi position lol.

Younger-adult designs:

Omega

Mox, Deke, & Stak

Some fun facts and details:

All the clones are the same height; Mox and Stak are just standing on boxes of varying heights to make the shot work

Mox and Stak got their scars in the same incident

Deke is also their squad's Tech Guy

Stak's tattoo is a thermal detonator over his inhibitor chip scar

Deke's jaig eyes are from the jungle sarlacc mission - the tattoos are a little blurrier/more faded in this one than in his younger-adult design

Adult Bayrn is here because Baby Bayrn was the only kid entirely unphased by extreme violence

Everyone except Omega has a Rebellion insignia somewhere on their armor

Omega has a Bad Batch skull (not super visible in this pic but it's poking out a bit) instead of the rebellion logo

The gauntlet/vambrace with the green stripe is Omega's only standard white clone armor

Stak is wearing a clone pilot chest box over a rebel pilot flightsuit

My original adult-Deke design had blond dyed hair but it made him look a bit too much like Rex

Omega's crossbow-bow is a combination of the nightsister energy bows, her original zygerrian energy bow, and Echo's green bolt crossbow

They're part of Phoenix Cell because Hera wanted Omega to do strategy stuff

Everyone's lost at least one armor piece compared to their younger-adult designs

Alternate cuts:

Just the clones

Individual shots

[carterashofficial]

the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them.

it got long but I have no regrets (feat Arcann and Fiika)

He hadn’t said anything as she was dragged away, screaming about wanting to live, screaming his name. Desperation. It’d happened too fast. Vaylin was there. Father was dead.

And this outlander spy had been kind to him for no reason. She had nothing to gain; there was simply nothing manipulative about her kindness.

The chrono on the wall said it was into the early hours of the morning.

Arcann rolled over onto his side and the cortosis covering of his arm socket dug into his flesh. He couldn’t her out of his head, that little bit of kindness, that hand she’d offered to help him up. Father had been shot down, there were tears of grief and fury staining her cheeks.

Her glove was warm against his hand.

The.... the....

Why was she kind?

He turned onto his back, staring at the canopy over his bed.

Fool. You let her be frozen, you didn’t keep you promise to give her whatever she wanted.

She’s alive, in carbonite. Alive.

Is living as a prisoner, unaware of time or yourself, really living? Fool.

Arguing with himself was getting him nowhere. Just conflicted emotions and guilt that, despite everything he’d tried, he couldn’t stamp out. Arcann rose and dressed. If he owed that Imperial spy anything, it would be making sure she was alive. Just... to satisfy himself.

He kneaded his forehead, trying to will the headache away. Izak take the socialites, all of them. Indo Zal was tolerable, at best, but the others... He lacked the patience to suffer through their selfish ploys.

“They think they hold power,” Arcann continued. “Vanity is not power. You understand what power truly is, to change the galaxy with a choice. Your files. They detailed your work to stop Father... He was referred to as Vitiate. He consumed your homeworld.”

Fiika Allos’ carbonite figure didn’t talk back. She never talked back; not for the three years he’d been secretly visiting the trophy room just to speak and vent and think things out aloud to her. Vaylin wouldn’t understand his annoyances; nor would her solutions be... peaceful. But Fiika, the girl who’d been kind once, who he still felt guilt over.

Arcann sighed. It’d been too long. Melting her out now would just... she would hate him. three years, she’d been frozen and the galaxy had changed. He didn’t wish to consider what she would think of him. How she had made a mistake with her kindness; he deserved nothing; he couldn’t even keep a simple promise.

It would be best to not dwell on it.

He headed towards the door to the lifts, and paused. The Force was singing, telling him to stay back, warning him... ever so faintly. Arcann couldn’t pinpoint the source.

So he left.

Arcann supposed he ought to get up off his couch and get ready for bed, but the feeling in the Force, that something was coming, the foreboding in his gut, wouldn’t leave. If something wasn’t wrong yet, it was about to become very very wrong.

And his mind kept drifting back to Fiika.

He’d only thought about her this much during the first few weeks he’d been Emperor; when his conscience get to the best of him and he had to check on her.

The hand she’d offered to pull him to his feet, the casual kindness about it. How she’d thanked him on his flagship. “I don’t think I would’ve wanted to spend the last bits of my life alone,” she’s admitted thickly.

She was.... sincere. No hidden emotions. Honest. The pure fury and grief when she couldn’t be quelled when Father attempted speaking to her.

What am I thinking?

He shook his head. There were too many things to do tomorrow, and the GEMINI-

The Force surged.

Fiika.

Something was wrong, very very wrong, in the carbonate trophy room.

She ran giggling through the streets, her cousins chasing her. Flimsi lanterns, every color imaginable, swung overhead like acrobats. Fiika ducked under one of the stall tables, around a vat of something that smelled deliciously caramel, and burst out into an alley.

Her cousins’ calls of her name died down, the market fading.

A breeze slipped through her school uniform.

No, that wasn’t right. Fiika frowned down at the red skirt and worn shoes. She was too old for school, and besides, she could afford a new pair of shoes. Mum and Luuko-

Fiika tried to run back into the Ziost market. 

No, no, let that be a nightmare-

Logic told her that this was the nightmare. She was too old for the school uniform, her cousins; Mum, Luuko, Uncle Garo- they had been on Ziost when-

No, no no no no-

The market was empty. The lanterns torn, colorless. No delicious scents; only... nothing.

A fat flake of snow drifted down, leading the charge. More and more slowly tumbled from the heavy clouds. They didn’t stop, not until the whole street was just fields of white, blinding white-

She was too cold. The uniform coat wasn’t meant to keep her warm in a snowstorm, the stockings under her skirt weren’t thermal-

The light was burning through her eyelids-

There was a flash of warmth before the sensation of falling gave way to blackness.

He could feel how cold she was through his sleeve.

Fiika was blue-lipped, eyes rolling around deliriously, clinging to him. Ice was still clumped in her hair, crusted in her eyebrows. The scientists could figure out how the carbonate freezing had failed later.

She was too cold, dangerously cold. 

‘Arcann! I want to live! I WANT TO LIVE!’

Memories of her yells echoed in his mind. He owed her that much. Fiika had to live, she had to survive- Guilt flared up in his chest. Guilt that he could have killed the one person who’d been kind to him, when he wanted more of the kindness he never deserved-

The lift opened and he ran down the corridors. The med-bay would be prepared for her, the doctors would save her, they had to-

This one source of kindness could not die-

A doctor was waiting, cot surrounded by medical droids. Behind them, a kolto tank bubbled away without it’s lid.

Arcann handed her over.

His bare thumb brushed her temple, her skin, and something shifted, something turned whole- Something that Mother used to sing about before she left.

Something he pretended he hadn’t felt, but would analyze later.

That moment was seared into his brain, the- the- He didn’t even know what to call it, but it’d made Fiika his weakness. An obvious weakness, one that even Vaylin could see and tease. She made a point of it, before she left, to remind him that his little crush on Fiika Allos was silly and foolish.

She hadn’t sensed the horrid battle he was raging against himself on the inside.

His flagship would be down within the hour. SCORPIO and the GEMINIs had betrayed him. The Fleet was firing on his flagship, the Gravestone alternating between targets.

Arcann had lost.

Mother and Vaylin and that Jedi Pattik were somewhere dueling, the Sith was fighting his knights-

He could sense her, right outside the bridge door. Arcann flicked the switch to open it.

Fiika, but not Fiika, thundered in. Father’s eyes glowed orange over the rim of the Knight shield, she carried herself as the galaxy would revolve around her. Arrogance was not one of Fiika’s traits, either.

Arcann watched her.

The embers in her eyes flickered as she fought for control.

Do not let him win.

She was screaming for it all to end; the nightmares, reliving Ziost’s fall, his force-damned bloody awful voice in her head.

Fiika was nearing the door to the bridge; eyeing the Knights guarding it-

She was stepping over the Knights, purple lightning arcing off her hands, Valkorian chuckling in her ears-

Get out!

‘I have saved you the effort of fighting these Knights.’

Out of my bloody head you foul louse!

Fiika watched her hands adjust how they held the Knight shield and pike. It felt awkward, but Valkorian was apparently in control-

Bastard!

The bridge door opened and she put full effort into at least holding the shield properly to block a force-thrown anything.

Valkorian’s chuckling halted when Arcann didn’t attack instantly. With that, she had full control of her body back.

Fiika dropped the pike and shield as she broke into a run towards Arcann. “Kill me!”

She’d been expecting him to either not listen, or gladly do as she said. They were enemies, he’d already near-fatally wounded her on Asylum, hunted her across the galaxy, put a bounty the size of a Hutt’s pleasure barge on her head.

Obviously he would want to kill her.

He didn’t even draw his lightsaber.

“No!” Fiika whirled out a dagger and spun at him, trying to goad him into fighting back. Then she could miss a parry, and-

Arcann wasn’t even using his lightsaber. He was dodging her strikes or blocking them.

“KILL ME! KILL VALKORIAN!” She needed the nightmares to end, the pain to end. Valkorian had to die, he had to. And he was in her, so she had to die. He would die, and she would stop seeing Ziost in her dreams. 

Fiika threw her dagger aside and wailed at Arcann. “FIGHT BACK!”

“No.”

“KILL ME, I-” The words were caught in her throat. “I can’t fight him anymore. And if he wins, if he- he- there’ll be another Ziost, and I’ll have to witness the nightmares again and again and again-”

Arcann had gone still, and she took her chance, vision blurry through tears. Fiika lashed out, boot aimed towards his center of gravity-

And he dodged her.

She crumpled to the ground.

Valkorian would win, he would take her body, destroy her soul. More Ziosts, more death, more pain and- and- She couldn’t witness it anymore. Sobs wracked her body. If she didn’t die, if she and Valkorian didn’t die- Fiika couldn’t face another night of seeing Ziost fall.

“Please,” she whispered, voice rough. “Please, I can’t- If you kill me, you kill him. End this, Arcann, please.” 

Arcann was standing over her. His lightsaber had been dislodged from his belt whilst avoiding her clumsy attacked.

Fiika picked it up, thoughts racing too fast through her mind for them to seem coherent. Perhaps it was the sleepless nights. She could always use the lightsaber herself.

He seemed to read her expression, and knelt beside her. “Fiika.”

She swiped at the tears. “Please. To end Valkorian.” And she pressed the lightsaber into his palm, her bare fingers pressed against his.

It was like something smacked her in the chest, something clicked, something became whole and warm, like one of her old childhood scratchy sweaters had been forced onto her soul.

Something that changed everything and nothing.

[gkingoffez]

This was supposed to be a quick warm up drabble before I worked on the last chapter of ‘Too Many Words Left Unspoken’ last night but it was 2AM and 2,000 words later when I finished it so *shrug*.

This is pretty much a first draft so there’s gonna be mistakes and things that aren’t as fleshed out as I like to have them. Essentially, this isn’t a finished piece in any sense but just take it because I don’t want to use any more energy on it.

Not gonna post it on any other sites, it’s just some angsty fun.I just like killing Ezra, okay.

Warnings: Blood, gore, major character death. 

Kanan ran with his pistol drawn and his heart in his throat, Rex only a step behind him.

“Ezra’s just up ahead, I can sense him,” he called to his companion, not slowing his pace.

There was a coil of smoke rising from the direction they were heading. That wasn’t a good sign.

Kanan skidded into a clearing to find a small collection of rusting starships, one of them exploded and casting orange hues across the blue dirt ground of the clearing.

“Kanan, look,” Rex said, out of breath but serious. Kanan directed his gaze up where Rex was pointing and had to close his eyes against the sight,.

Suspended from the gutted skeleton of a vertical starship by what looked like electrical wiring was the body of a young human woman. Kanan could only hope Ezra hadn’t been involved in her death.

“What the kriff happened here?” asked Rex angrily.

“Nothing good,” Kanan replied. They both turned at the sound of lightsabers clashing from across the other side of the junkyard. “No time to find out, we gotta get Ezra!”

With that, Kanan took off, and Rex followed him with another curse.

They rounded a corner and almost slipped on something slick that coated the ground. Kanan looked down to see another body, this time of a devorarian boy, who’s neck had been slit and body flung carelessly over a half-sunken wing. Kanan only paused to consider that it was blood on his boots before taking off again, even quicker than before.

Dread and fear was thrumming through his veins.

They passed one and half more bodies, each gruesomely placed, before finally rounding a starship and finding the duellers. They were grunting and swinging at each other, the shorter human fighter with more finesse and skill than the taller and bulkier besalisk, but what the taller seemed to lack in skill she was making up for in heavy, anger-fuelled blows both with her lightsaber and her spare fists and the fact that her opponent appeared to be injured and fatigued, holding one arm awkwardly against his chest.

The shorter figure grunted as he blocked a harsh blow and Kanan would have recognised it and the dirty orange jumpsuit he was wearing anywhere.

“Ezra!” he called out, and days of tension and sleepless nights seemed to seep out of Kanan’s shoulder. He stopped, almost falling to his knees from relief.

Ezra glanced over to them and then did a double take. His drooped shoulders immediately lifted, and even from the distance Kanan could see a fire reignite in the kids blue eyes. His next move was more focussed and precise, and the angry besalisk girl had to jump out of its way.

Beside him, Rex made to step forward, but Kanan threw out his arm to stop the clone. Although he had no idea what had happened in the days since Ezra had been abducted, something in the Force told Kanan that this was Ezra’s fight to finish.

Ezra whirred his lightsaber (definitely not his own, which was attached to Kanan’s belt) around and the girl blocked it clumsily. They locked hilts.

“So they did come for you, squirt,” she snarled, the arm holding the lightsaber straining.

“Yeah, told you so!” Ezra cried back, and Kanan could hear the smug grin in his voice.

The two broke their hold, each staggering a bit under the sudden uneven distribution of force. Ezra was the first to recover, and he threw out his hand. The besalisk girl went flying back hard against the hull of a ship, her lightsaber skidding out of reach. Ezra raced forward and had his own at her throat before she could reach for it again.

To Kanan’s surprise, the girl began to laugh.

“Go on, squirt. Kill me and win,” she spat. Kanan and Rex exchanged concerned looks and took a few tentative steps forward, both with hands on their blasters. Ezra had his back to them.

“For the last time, I don’t care about winning. We could have just gotten out of here, Stell, we could have all survived.”

That only seemed to make Stell laugh harder, her two lower arms clutching at her middle, heedless of the lightsaber that appeared to be shaking in Ezra’s hand.

“But none of you listened! And now they’re all dead. You killed Matthas, Stell.”

Kanan didn’t know who Matthas was, but he suspected they were one of the corpses he had passed, and from Ezra’s tone they’d must have been the kids friend. Something dark shifted in the Force that took the breath out of Kanan’s throat. It was coming from Ezra, rolling off him in waves.

“Ezra,” he called, with a plea in his voice. “This isn’t the way.”

The effect of his words was almost immediate. The Force calmed like a storm diminishing, and Ezra let out a long, tension riddled breath.

“I’m not going to kill you, Stell, it’s not the Jedi way.” Ezra pulled back his lightsaber. “I’m sorry you were brought here for this sick game. Don’t you see, we’re all the victims here? Whoever did this to us, whoever tore us away from our families and brought us here, they’re the enemy.”

Stell went quiet and bowed her head, all four of her arms reaching down to touch the dirt beneath her. She looked defeated.

Ezra, apparently satisfied, took a few steps back, and turned off his saber completely. He stepped back keeping her in sight and when she didn’t move, turned towards Kanan and Rex.

“Kanan,” he called, smiling a weary smile. He stumbled towards them, reaching up to clutch at his injured arm. His clothes and hair were caked with blue mud that mingled with the red of various blood stains on his jumpsuit. His entire right cheek was a mess of purpling bruises, and heavy bags were present under his eyes, but despite all of that, he was alive. For Kanan, who had been fearing the worst for days now, that was more than enough.

“Ezra,” he said with an answering smile, starting slowly forward. He felt pride swell in him, both as a master and a father-figure. The kid had obviously been through hell, but even that wasn’t enough to extinguish the goodness within him.

Ezra laughed. “You came. You came!”

Kanan opened his mouth to respond, but a warning suddenly rang out in the Force. He looked behind Ezra to see the Besalisk girl call her lightsaber to her hand, ignite it, and then rush towards Ezra.

“I WIN!” she screamed, as she thrust the blade straight into Ezra’s back.

Kanan watched on in horror; Ezra’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, his young face illuminated by the blazing blue of the lightsaber sticking right through his abdomen. As in slow motion, Stell then pulled the saber back and stepped away.

Rex shouted something beside him and let loose several blaster shots, which Stell deflected.

Kanan’s vision was tunnelling, and all he could see was Ezra falling to his knees. Kanan ran faster than he’d ever run and threw himself down in the mud and grabbed at the kid’s jumpsuit, tangling his fingers in the fabric, to keep him off the ground.

“No, Ezra, no stay with me, kid,” he cried, frantic at how limp the kid was. He reached up with both hands to cup Ezra’s face, trying to direct those blue eyes to meet his. They were rolling back into the back of his head, and a pained spluttering sound was escaping Ezra’s mouth.

Kanan was vaguely away of the besalisk running off into the trees, even less so of Rex taking pursuit.

He wrapped his arms around Ezra’s entire body, and tried to press a shaking hand into the bleeding wound on Ezra’s back.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he lied. Ezra’s breaths were harsh and chilling in Kanan’s ear, and he reached up to run his fingers through the kids matted long hair, running his thumb in comforting motions up and down. Ezra gurgled. “You’re gonna be fine. I’m here, Ezra, I’m here, I’m not leaving. You’re gonna be fine.”

Kanan’s entire chest felt wet, but still he clung as tight as he could to his padawan, who was convulsing and shaking. He kept talking comforting things in a low whisper, all the while feeling Ezra’s grip on life slip swiftly away both through the Force and physically in his arms.

Ezra died with a final sputtered exhale, and something inside Kanan broke apart, much like the night his Master had died all those years ago. He felt the bond shatter in his mind- there were tears streaming down his face, and he could only clutch tighter to Ezra. He burrowed his face into the crook of Ezra’s neck and screamed in frustration and grief.

“We were so close, so close,” Kanan yelled, mostly at the galaxy at large. He sobbed and rocked for a few moments more, before reason approached again. He took a few long, shuddering breaths and wiped at the snot pouring from his nose with a sleeve.

Something terrible was still clamped around his heart, but Kanan Jarrus knew that he had to move on.

He pulled back and lift Ezra’s lolling head up, supporting the lifeless neck so he could plant a tender kiss on the kid’s forehead. The kids eyes were closed and his face was slack. He could have been asleep, if not for the blood slopping down both his back and front. Kanan then brought his own forehead down and touched them together, closing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows together.

“M-may the Force be with you, Ezra Bridger,” he choked out.

He looked up as squelching footprints approached, and folded Ezra back flush against him so he could look over. He saw Rex returning in the dim light, helmet removed.

“She got away,” the clone soldier said, with a hard look. He glanced down at Ezra, and a brief flash of pain flared across his features. “We need a medical bay, I’ll call-”

“No point, he’s gone,” Kanan said, barely a whisper.

Rex closed his eyes, but didn’t say a word. He kneeled down in front of Kanan and reached for the top of Ezra’s head.

“It’s not your fault, Kanan.”

“Of course it is,” Kanan hissed back.

“No. Ezra said that someone else was behind this, someone brought all these kids here. All that blood is on their hands, including Ezra’s, and I don’t know about you, but I’m going to find out exactly who the bastard is so I can put a blaster bolt through his head.”

Kanan blinked and stared into Rex’s eyes. Revenge wasn’t the jedi way- he’d told Ezra as much only minutes before.

But now Ezra was dead, and he’d left a terrible hollowness behind in Kanan’s core. His fingers itched for his blaster and lightsaber to be in his hands, they itched for him to search the entire planet, system, galaxy to find the person who had done this to Ezra. The besalisk girl may have thrust the lightsaber, but whoever was pulling the strings was the real murderer.

“Yeah, I’ll help you with that,” he said icily, anger flowing through him.

L I S T E N

I am a sucker for the AngstTM okay. I love it a lot, and Kanan and Ezra are prime angst material my dudes.

If this seemed familiar to anyone, it’s because it’s based almost entirely on the Supernatural episode/s All Hell Breaks Loose. I may have slightly given up on the show now, but that scene where Sam dies in Deans arms is top angst material, dear god.

I’m not gonna do anything else with this idea, but my story driven mind did come up with a few extra things about this idea.

- So, a lot like in the SPN episode, Ezra (just like Sam) is kidnapped and wakes up in a strange place with a bunch of strange people (or maybe even some people he knows).

-Turns out, all these people are ‘special’ (in the show they all have powers, but here I’m thinking that it’s just a heap of Force-sensitive kids and young adults, but most of them have little-to-no training or were escaped padawans like Kanan.)

- Essentially, they’re made to fight to the death to find out who’s the strongest/most worthy/ whatever. For a prize I guess.

-I’ve given no thought at all to who’s the one pulling the strings. Is it Imperials? Is it some sick person who just wants to watch people kill each other for a prize? Is it a Hunger Games deal???? Who knows. I know if I think about it too much I probably will, but I have too many WIPS at the moment to be dragged down by another one. I guess if someone really wants to adopt this from me I won’t mind.

- In the tv show, Sam is brought back to life because Dean makes a demon deal. As I’m not quite sure there’s an equivalent to that in the Star Wars universe, I’m gonna say Ezra’s ded as hell here. Sorry hon.