#ba'shira cadera

[crqstalite]

ba’shira alyen cadera - of primarily asian descent. as i do more research i’ll find out where. hakiojkl sayito hyperion-jorgan - of african descent. see above. corsha qvael revel - of indian + african descent. see above. mellena ellana wryen-cadera-shan - of european descent. see above.

guess who’s putting off writing more shadow and is instead making more of these artbreeders??

it’s me. it’s always me.

anyways, these are a few edits to show how i see a few characters v. how well i can draw + the clonky swtor graphics (character designer). artbreeder took my boy (axis) and gave him actual eyes instead of red retinas, so he’ll be uploaded another day. while artbreeder has some, say bugs when rendering photos (corsha became something straight off stranger things, probably because the screenshot was a tad dark), it’s still AMAZING for being an AI. so now i have some nice headshots of the babies i was able to replicate in the image mixer.

[crqstalite]

SHADOW OF THE SITH, Ch.14

bit of filler so no one thinks khaak has actually been Kidnapped.

-

BA'SHIRA._ZIOST.

This was going so well, only about forty eight hours ago here on Ziost. Almost two days. For two whole days, she could say that it really was going her way for once. The first time Ba'shira had been with any sort of real family in literal years, and this was how it was going to end? Really? Cooped up in an old apartment and praying that Mako would pick up her holocom and she didn't know, maybe answer after she'd pinged her sixteen thousand times? A cheap apartment on the west side of New Adasta was not supposed to be her tomb, and no Sith was taking her down that easily. She'd taken quite a few in the past, century-old Emperor or otherwise it really shouldn't have been that different or difficult.

Except apparently she wasn't the sole target this time around, which made things way more complicated than they should've been. Not like her typical visit to Nar Shaddaa or Hutta with plenty of headhunters on her tail hoping to capitalize on a bounty that was years old at this point. Instead, the entire planet was going down with her in rakghoul-like glee. Yippee...

It wasn't nearly as fun as it should've been, really. Not as fun as her mind had made her think it was going to be, at least. Hyping up the trip to the Imperial homeworld was the only way to get her mind off of everything (well that made it sound like she was actively being hunted -- which was always). Torian was on a hunt with some of his friends from another clan, and not wanting to be the clinging wife she despised watching on holodramas, she'd decided to visit some of her own friends without making a fuss about it. Mako was gone, off with her boyfriend of a few months (a certain Cathar that she didn't trust as far as she could throw him) and Gault was out being Gault (what that entailed, she wasn't sure and definitely didn't want to know). So she decided that she just had to find a distraction of her own somewhere, with someone else preferably.

That being past Captain J'nell Wryen of their small party of then bounty hunters and smugglers (Thara had always preferred the term 'free traders' while they were travelling but Ba'shira would always call them what they were), and she'd come to pay the aging woman a visit. Well, aging was a strong word, the woman still looked like she was maybe thirty instead of nearing forty-five, but that was beyond the point. Beside drinking together and sharing stories of old and new jobs, it was a comforting time for Ba'shira to be around. Life day was coming up rather soon too, so the other goal was to find something for the crew in the marketplace if she could. If Torian was reconnecting with old friends, well there was no reason his cyar'ika couldn't do the same. Still fuming he didn't invite her along to begin with, but she digressed. By blood, she wasn't Mandalorian (apparently they didn't tend to care as long as you didn't break their code of honor, it still bothered her sometimes, feeling inferior and whatnot), so maybe it was a sort of thing you didn't invite your non-Mandalorian wife to. She'd never know, pride and all getting the better of her.

Didn't mean she wasn't frustrated, their anniversary and yes, the Wookie holiday were both coming up and she'd wanted to spend the days leading up to it with him, but she figured she would be as bad as those women in the holodramas if she begged him to stay back all for her. She knew just how happy and ecstatic he was when he brought things back for her, and another fur rug was never a bad thing in their home. Knowing her cyare had brought it back for her made it all the more sweeter.

She was much overdue for a little me time anyways. How long it had been since she'd laid back, knowing she wasn't on the run and no one was looking for her or needing her with a glass of Corellian whiskey in one hand and a holocom in the other...she did not know. That would have to be remedied more often, the warm feeling that spread through her body as she chuckled and hiccuped with the woman was something she hadn't experienced in what felt like forever. No talk of running anywhere, just them and learning about what the other had been up to in the years past. The woman had been here for years after she'd left their little smuggling crew, hoping to find the twin infant girls she'd spoken so highly of for so long. It'd been a fruitless journey, one that J'nell was still on apparently.

Ba'shira didn't have the heart to tell her that after nearly twenty five years, that it was probably worth giving up the search. As cold-hearted as it sounded, if she and Torian ever had a child (and that was a very big maybe that she had stuck a pin in since they'd been married) and they disappeared for two decades and then some years, it felt right to just let the path go cold. Holding onto things when it was healthy anymore -- to say the least she had some experience in that field. Maybe it was because she wasn't a mother, so maybe she wouldn't understand the grief just yet, but she still didn't want to help J'nell do anything regarding Mellena and Mivonie. Too emotionally draining, and it was taking up a lot of the two days that they'd spent together before everything went to shit. She was here to relax, not get caught up in a conspiracy that had been apparently active for more years than she'd been alive. Not even to mention that they surely had their own lives by now, maybe they didn't want to be found. A look around the apartment didn't immediately say 'welcoming mother' either. As much as J'nell had raised her, circumstances changed, and she couldn't imagine any kid really being happy in a repair shop of all places.

Still, what holorecordings J'nell had left after their birth, Ba'shira could begin to understand why she was so upset. One of them had been around until she was a toddler, and the little voice that she could hear over the botched audio surely struck a chord within her everytime she heard it. The kid had energy, and was surely a bright light in the dim evening years. Poor girl, Ba'shira found herself wondering what she ever got up to. Or if she was even still alive. That part she didn't tell J'nell. She may have had her doubts about everything she was doing but she wasn't a total asshole. But for some reason sitting silent on the couch as the woman ran herself ragged, talking offhandedly about the same subjects over and over again with pieces of armor, tools and whatnot surrounding her, well she felt worse about that. Not much she could do other than just twiddle her thumbs either.

They'd be older than she was by now. Two years, nearly three. Both force sensitive, both just as blonde as the Sith in the holocom that a very drunk J'nell showed her, tears streaming down her face as she cursed the man multiple times and recounted every single horrible thing he ever did to her. Had the man not already been dead (it was galactic news for a while after everything with the Sith went down, and the Wrath had taken one of the better bounties right out from underneath her; would've netted the crew of the Orchid enough credits to trick out the ship again) he might as well be now. If not for the credits, then just for plain revenge on what he'd done to her friend. Why J'nell was only just telling her all of this now in such a fuzzy state was anyone's guess. While they'd been together when she was little more than a lanky teenager with a penchant for fire on the Clarity, she'd never known the full story. In fact, J'nell had been much less willing to even tell the whole thing in the first place, yet here she was now, clutching the holocom in her hands and sobbing that Xalzon hadn't ever treated her right.

Ba'shira could've told her that, but if she wanted support through all of this, that's what she got. Least the woman was a talented armorsmith, she'd be leaving Ziost with her beskar repaired and ready for whatever battle took place next. The repair shop had been the one level-headed idea that J'nell had in all those years, though she shut it down shortly before joining the crew on the Clarity for some reason or the other. A spunky, thirteen year old Ba'shira with a love for the color pink and flames probably would've been able to tell someone, but tired and sleep-deprived twenty two year old Ba'shira couldn't even remember to eat some days, much less remember any of the finer details about her old captain. She picked the business up again a couple years ago, and that's what they were above as she thought now. Didn't see too many customers in the current climate, but it brought in enough credits for her to have a nice place in the city.

That reminded her, wondering about the fates of Zhonani, her partner Aethreen, Thara, her young son Axis and even Khaak, as many differences as they had.  After leaving once the crew was disbanded at absolutely horrid teen age of sixteen, to say that she was -- that she felt alone was an understatement. She had missed her found family dearly in the years past (and had to return to Rwenne and La'anthra saying that they had been right about her needing to stay around), but after she'd been swept up into the Great Hunt at Braden's request two years later, that had become the furthest thing from her mind. Now they were entire mysteries to her. J'nell had been a lucky find, as she'd still had her old com code and it still worked to her surprise. Beyond that, she was grabbing at straws and hoping they were the right ones.

She missed her found family. Much as she loved the crew of the Orchid, it wouldn't ever be the same and she knew it. Still, the little victories would have to do for now. Such as these moments she was able to spend with her. No one ever knew when they'd die, and for someone like J'nell, that could be just about any day now with her drinking problem and how bad it had gotten over the last couple of years.

Also, because fate was a total dick, at least to her. All of this had really started two days ago, give or take in the middle of the night. At least, it'd finally hit their part of New Adasta.

The middle of her damned beauty sleep. The Emperor really had the nerve, huh?

First the screams had woken her up into a panic, startling her into thinking she was back on Hutta or something. Thinking someone had broken into the apartment, had already killed J'nell and they were then coming for her too. Sleepily reaching for her blaster and taking a shot at who she then discovered to be J'nell in the kitchen because she had been so spooked, she had managed to calm down when a return shot nearly hit her in the darkness of the apartment, knocking a holophoto behind her off-kilter from it's place on the wall, crashing to the ground with sound of it falling apart on impact just behind her. That was a moment that she'd bury in the corner of her mind until the day she died, as J'nell flicked on a light with her dilated blue eyes with fear wavering out of them.

Well, the years surely hadn't taken their toll on J'nell's aim. That was a welcome surprise. Well, it would've been if it didn't nearly take her out in cold blood.

So the scream hadn't be the older blonde woman's. That was a relief in itself as she apologized to the woman hurriedly and dashed out onto the balcony with J'nell on her heels as another one rang out in the night. At first Ba'shira can't see anything, and is convinced that maybe it was part of a dream or hallucination. Still, with how shrill it had sounded she didn't want to give up on it that quickly, afraid it meant something worse. How close it had been to her own mother's scream that was etched into her memories from her childhood years spooked her. Scanning the area, the darkness of the night cycle keeps her from really taking in most of the situation before she sees a blue lightsaber light. The plasma's light is enough to illuminate the situation, and she covers her mouth with a hand in horror as someone's body is stabbed through with the lightsaber. J'nell's hand finds her shoulder in the darkness, attempting to gently yank her back from the balcony and back inside. At first, Ba'shira stays, held in place by fear as the lightsaber wielding person continues on, slashing through the rest of the person's party with unadulterated rage.

Weren't Jedi supposed to be the hypocrite good guys? Why would they just be tearing through people like little more than fodder for their lightsabers? Not that Ba'shira ever wanted to support them, she didn't care for force-wielding matters but it was odd. Scary even. Unusual, wrong and downright weird.

They turn upwards once they've finished with who is before them, maybe looking directly up at where she was standing. Ba'shira couldn't see where their gaze landed, but J'nell just knows. J'nell yanks her backwards with some sort of motherly strength back into the apartment and just far enough away that when the lightsaber makes an arc through where the bounty hunter had just been standing, Ba'shira watches in wide-eyed horror to where her corpse would've laid on the ground. Hurriedly J'nell makes for the curtains, shuttering them closed over the balcony's windows.

Her eyes are bloodshot. Maybe she's been at this longer than Ba'shira has, awake longer than she has been. Reacted to the screaming far faster than she had. Hopefully not kept up by nightmares or the buzz of caff, but the cups that litter the table and the datapad that's still glowing dimly on the table say otherwise. They'd talk about her obsession with finding Mellena and Mivonie at another date, but the only words out of her mouth are a pure, condensed few words to tell exactly what's bouncing around in her head, "What the fuck was that, J'nell? Not sure I'm liking your part of town as much anymore."

She runs a hand through her hair, flickering the lights back off one by one until Ba'shira can only see the woman's silhouette with the dim office lights shining onto much of anything. Ba'shira isn't put anymore at ease in the silence, all except for the buzzing of the holoterminal nearby, "I don't know, Shira. I really don't. Blazes, if I would know any better I'd say that was a Jedi out there. Jedi aren't ever on Ziost...Ziost is Imperial territory."

"You think they are now?" Ba'shira asks, picking herself up tenderly from where she'd been thrown onto the ground. She wants to walk back up to the window, look back outside, let her curiousity take the better of her. But the stricken expression on J'nell's face keeps her from doing otherwise as the woman sits delicately on the couch. Too delicately. Any other day she'd flop down on the worn thing but now...now she sits there with her head in her hands. Wound up probably, but as she leans back her eyes that she can just barely see gives her entire story away, "'Nell, you know something, don't you?" Ba'shira asks, concerned.

"No...not much more than just rumors. And rumors can't ever be trusted, right?" J'nell asks tiredly, pulling a half empty bottle of whiskey out from under the table, unscrewing the top to take a swig before Ba'shira rips the bottle away from her. The look of pure betrayal, of need is evident on her face as she swipes for it with a tired arm. Usually her reflexes are better, but her arm is also shakier than usual, "Shira."

"No more. This," She gestures to the bottle, "and this," she gestures to the datapad and everything else that covers the table. A picture of a blonde toddler looks up at her with surely bright blue eyes just like her mother, and Ba'shira can't help but roll her eyes, "All this goes away until you give me an answer. You always have an in, 'Nell. You always have, and I know that look in your eyes. You know something I don't."

"There have been...rumors that the Republic is planning to invade. Made it down the vine the last couple of days. All that stuff that went down on Yavin with the Pubs? Chances are that won't last very long. Treaty of Coruscant is already in shambles because people can't sit still anymore, the Republic is already starting their push on Balmorra again. Only seems fitting they'd attack here next, especially as some big fancy show of power. Can see galactic headlines now, 'Republic takes the Gateway to The Empire'. Can I have my whiskey back now?" J'nell says, quickly and longwinded before she tries to take the bottle back again, standing this time. Ba'shira has no height on the other woman, so she gives up and hands it back, "Why I'm like this, kid? I ain't got anything left anywhere. After the Clarity, you think things got better? No. This has been my home for years, and to just see someone die out there? Hell, it just might be my time." J'nell shakes her head, slowly sipping at the liquid with disappointment in her eyes.

"Does the Empire know? Not that I'm interested in helping them, but I don't want the Republic paying my bills." Ba'shira deadpans. Not much else she can do on that front, she and J'nell know loss like an old friend who's always there for the rainy days and nights that nothing else matters. She shakes her head after she takes in what J'nell had just admitted to, "Do we need to get out of here? Is there a chance there are more Jedi like that one crawling over Ziost with all their weird Force powers?"

"Hey, I'm not military or Intelligence. Take that up with Miss Beniko, new head of Intelligence last I heard." J'nell responds, looking moreso at the now half empty glass bottle than her company, "Just rumors. It'll probably clear up within the next couple of days. As you'll learn about us Ziostian folk, we don't exactly let our friends and neighbors just die on us without a fight."

As she goes back to bed, Ba'shira wants to believe that. There are plenty more screams that night, she knows because she can't go back to sleep. That's a horrifying sight, even though she has seen plenty other Sith go about their business. Mierrio comes to mind, their time on Makeb flickering through her memories. But those were pirates, pirates who were horrible people and killed folks for their own gain. The person who'd just died down there...maybe they had a family. Friends. People who cared about them.

And they'd just died.

It doesn't improve into the wee hours of the morning when she's considering finding her own bottle of alcohol to help her sleep as she hears three more screams over the next few hours into when the sun rises over the planet. She gets three hours of sleep within that first day, and that day is the day when everything goes to shit. The screams get louder. She goes out for J'nell to the market and just barely makes it back with her life and a week worth of food. It logically doesn't make any sense, and it wasn't just Jedi -- in fact she didn't see another one until a week later. Common people, the military, hell even Sith had lost their minds and took out whoever walked in their path. If It wasn't for J'nell's extensive knowledge of not only the underworld and back roads in New Adasta as she was literally running to survive the next few minutes, there was no way she would've made it to the apartment without suffering a few injuries or even losing her life. The first time she employed a grappling hook in her entire life was that day, and while exhilarating to watch the world pass by underneath her, it was also terrifying in a way she didn't want to experience ever again. The red mist that seemed to evaporate off the people who were going mad...it was so unnatural, and that was coming from Ba'shira, who had definitely seen some shit while working for Sith in the Citadel. She'd never seen this before.

Com connections started to waver halfway through that day. When she'd gone to contact the Orchid and arrange a pick up for later that night, nothing had gone through as it should've. Static, some basic communication but no visual. Almost no audio. She and J'nell discovered it was due to some communications tower being down nearby, entirely destroyed earlier in the day. It explained the explosions that had jarred her throughout the entire experience, at the very least. And with just about every civil brain cell down in the city, there surely wouldn't be any repair crew coming in.

Ba'shira was not having any fun, now that much was clear as day, as redundant as the phrase got she was sticking by it. Stuck in an apartment with an alcoholic widow with people screaming throughout the night? Please. This was supposed to be an outing she was supposed to enjoy. If this was all some elaborate plan by the Imperial government to flush her out of hiding (wasn't unheard of, it'd nearly worked on Alderaan just before Gault smelled something off about the whole thing and subsequently got them off the planet before she was thrown into the slammer for any arbitrary amount of time), it was not going to work. She'd probably blow herself up tinkering with the holoterminal before that happened. Intelligence was a slippery bunch, but considering how many times she'd carried out operations (bounties with a much higher price on them) for the secretive branch of Imperial government, she'd like to say she could sleep with one eye open instead of both when she was on Imperial-sanctioned soil.

Except now both are open. Closing them seems like way too much of a security risk right now. And that isn't a chance she should really be taking.

Just the night before she'd been sleep in the room J'nell had provided for her, unconsciously tossing and turning between being halfway awake and her eyes closing on her. Finally a few 'just passed out in my clothes' instead of actual sleep hours, before yet another attack happened. This time she was slower getting up, quieter grabbing her blaster out of it's holster on her thigh and slipping out of her room. J'nell must've still been out cold, because she faces this threat by herself. No sounds of entry on her first scan of the room, nothing had been touched. Picking her way across the room, something glints out of the corner of her eye. Whirling around, she takes aim before realizing it's just stray piece of durasteel armor. Imperial, the red and black staring at her ominously.

Pushing the curtains aside, all she sees is black at first, before stepping backwards and looking up. She stifles a scream before they hit the window hard with the butt of their rifle, a male Imperial soldier now that she looks properly. He tilts his head sarcastically, a red Zabrak with cuts all over his face and his eyes the color of white bantha milk. A smile that is much too stretched, too forced to be anywhere near natural. Without his helmet too, meaning he'd lost it at some point before this and the Emperor hadn't bothered to retrieve it. He bangs against the window again, this time with more force and she reminds herself immediately that she was not here to gawk in awe. Cocking the blaster, she wonders how he even managed to get up so high, considering J'nell lived on the twentieth floor of the apartment building.

Stars, if they can fly now, she thinks sarcastically, deciding to observe the situation as long as it warranted. What was the rule of thumb again? No quick movements? That worked with rakghouls about one out of four times, that one time being when she'd first met Torian and she was covered in their entrails. Her hand hesitates over the door handle, considering. She can't shoot him through the transparisteel, that would shatter it and probably get her kicked to the curb. Not to mention if he got up here, that meant plenty of others could as well. And that would leave J'nell with a biting breeze through the apartment.

He bangs against the transparisteel again, and she backs up. If she closes the blinds maybe he'll leave, she thinks stupidly. She sees a hairline crack in the material, and she knows she has to make a decision fast and now before he does it for her. With one fluid motion, she throws open the transparisteel window. He's too slow to take aim for her, and when he does, she's already moved and he's shot J'nell's holoterminal.

Well, she'd pay for it later. Not like the shop didn't bring in any credits to get her a brand new one.

Ba'shira prided herself on being a quick draw artist, and it came in handy as she makes quick work of the situation, shooting him quick in the thigh of his armor. Distracted by it for just a moment with the sheer force of the blaster and being in such close quarters, she manages to slip around and knock him backwards in quick succession. Leaning against the guardrail, she figures he'll have one hell of a headache in the morning before he kicks him over with a final thrust of her leg into his chest. Brutal, yes, but the job is done. The spookiest thing is that she can't hear him scream if he does. Other than the whistle of cool wind playing with her hair, it's quiet. Much too quiet. For a planet dying, she figures there should be way more noise.

There isn't even a loud thump she can hear. A part of her hopes he hit a snowbank or something. Looking around, she finds that the balcony has a small bridge connecting it to another apartment. She curses, finding another one on the opposite side. They'd have to watch for invaders from that direction too.

There is some sound though, about twenty minutes later as she tries to explain to J'nell how her holoterminal had gotten shot in between the fifteen minutes of sleep she'd gotten. The sound of gunshots picks back up in their direction, fires raging below them. Today isn't a day to go out then, especially with Jedi and now Republic troops wandering around in an Emperor-fueled acid trip. Republic forces had arrived that night, and other than the occasional gossip and naysayers from the neighbors of the small apartment, there weren't very many answers to find. No one knew why they were here just yet, or even when most of them got here exactly. Under the cover of darkness, anything could happen, and it seemed that the Republic rightfully took advantage of the confusion and sent them down here. Her bet with an older Togruta next door was ramping up to one hundred credits that the oh so wonderful Chancellor Saresh had something to do with it all.

Ba'shira intended to win. And with everything going on that side of the galaxy, it seemed like in the worst way, she was right yet again.

Then, she and J'nell wake the third day after the chaos started. Ba'shira intends to finally sleep, it's quiet enough to and she's just snuggled into bed when she hears the window open again. Of course, it's open. There was a crash not that long ago, and J'nell is getting overly curious about them all. To report back, of course, to compare it with other crashes they'd witnessed earlier in the week. She's just dozing off into nap land when the window opens again and something hits the ground hard. Not even bothering to pop up all that quickly, she prays it isn't a dead body that the woman has brought home this time. Worse, that it isn't J'nell's body that's hit the floor.

In her sleep clothes, she picks up her now well-used blaster (she'd just bought it a month beforehand, and now she knew it like the back of her hand with all the action she was seeing in a residential area) and slips outside her room. Scanning the area, J'nell is thankfully still standing, though has the grappling hook gun in her hand again. Stars, that means she'd taken a trip down to the streets without telling her again. She has her outside clothes on, with her electrostaff and other various weapons on her back and in her holsters. Ba'shira had told her earlier in her trip that against folks with blasters, she wouldn't stand a chance but the older woman stood her ground on the purchase, claiming that Xalzon had taught her a few techniques before he'd left. It probably helped that electricity was one of the functions. It did malfunction at times, but apparently nothing the mechanic couldn't handle. Ba'shira wonders just how many times she'd been shocked to hell and back and wasn't telling her.

She was talking to someone in a hushed voice. Great, now they had another roommate to look after. Or another intruder, but J'nell would've shot by now. Half dead then, is the idea she has about this new person.

"Nice place you've got here." A voice says, deeply feminine from in the lounge. Definitely doesn't have the same deep grizzle as the Emperor did, so she isn't on such high alert anymore. No one that's being actively controlled then. J'nell responds with something she can't hear, a grin on her face as the Twi'lek picks herself up off the ground.

"Welcome to the end of a world, kid." J'nell answers, before Ba'shira lowers her blaster. A friend from somewhere else in the city maybe, and she steps into the lounge to get a better look at the Twi'lek. She's tall, but not too much taller than Ba'shira is, and is wearing a ripped jacket, leathris pants and knee high boots. She hadn't seen many female Twi'lek without a headdress before, but this one collapses onto the couch in a heap with it in pieces in her pocket. Her eyes tighten closed, and blood dribbles out of many cuts along her face and lekku. She must've just managed to just barely escape the warfare down below with J'nell, because a few look nearly fatal and a bump is growing on her forehead.

"Shira, you probably heard me come in, huh?" J'nell asks, turning her attention from the woman for a moment, "So I know what I said--"

"No more people, please. How do you know the Emperor didn't take control of her too?" She asks in a hushed voice, "Everyone's vulnerable, he just hasn't turned his attention to us yet."

"Crashed outside in a shuttle, by the way. Your friend Cadera here saved me from certain death." A groan from the couch makes it evident that yes, the woman had heard her. She wheezes in another breath, and Ba'shira realizes that there's a lot more blood than she'd first thought (after she realizes that J'nell has yet again given her maiden last name to a stranger). The stains are growing on her jacket and cloth armor, a crimson red that Ba'shira isn't sure she wants to know just how much it's soaked up from her injuries. Surely she was punctured in a few places due to hitting the ground at such a high speed in a durasteel death trap, and one of the holsters is missing a blaster. A crash in a shuttle? Wouldn't she know not to be flying through this area, especially with the anti-air canons being the way they were? Better yet, Ba'shira's curious how she's even managed a shuttle to begin with. She shifts positions, pushing her lekku over her shoulder, "Can you turn the lights down? Like, all the way down?"

"The lights are down, Beniko." J'nell responds, making for one of her cabinets and rummaging around inside. Probably to find a kolto patch. Ba'shira wants to tell her that anything short of a kolto bath probably is going to do little more than just knock her out for a couple hours and make her wake up with one hell of a bodyache, "Just try to relax, yeah? Don't aggravate any of those wounds."

"Beniko? Like the new Minister?" Ba'shira asks, leaning against a wall and placing her blaster on a nearby end table before sliding into the lounge couch across from her, "You're definitely not the new one, are you?"

"Nope. That would be my wife." She responds, trying to open her eyes again. Ba'shira flickers the light over the lounge off, and pressing a button the console of the holoterminal to illuminate the small space. Bathed in the blue light, the woman has the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen once she's able to register what's going on, "Beyond the fact that I just lost her more than half a million credits in that ship, Lana is going to kill me herself for nearly dying."

"If your injuries don't first." J'nell says sarcastically, returning with her meager box of medical supplies, "I've got kolto patches, raw kolto, and painkillers. Take your pick."

"Thanks for that, Cadera." The Twi'lek responds, a gentle smile on her face as she reaches across for something. She strains herself too far trying to shuffle her jacket off, as she bites her lip and rubs the green sticky material over one of the cuts on her arm. Ba'shira doesn't usually shy away from serious injuries, in fact she had plenty over the course of her life, but Beniko's are a kind that she winces at, feels vicariously through the barely bitten back yelps of pain, "Ya'll have been living through all of this? Intelligence just came in today."

"We noticed." Ba'shira deadpans, flickering up a map of New Adasta onto the holoterminal, "I don't live here. I just got stuck here on a very unfortunate sleepaway trip two days ago."

"Got a name?" She asks. Ba'shira raises an eyebrow, considering whether or not to give it to her. Complete stranger (as far as she knows), wife to the Minister of Imperial Intelligence, the same Intelligence that keeps trying to hunt her down time after time for breaking a lot of laws in the past year alone...hard pass, "Hey, no offense at all. Can't keep calling you stranger though." She says after Ba'shira crosses her arms in defiance.

"I'd rather not give you my name, but you can call me Shira." She proposes, instead, deflecting the question entirely as news headlines scroll along the bottom of the map in a dizzying array of aurebesh, "What about you?"

"If we're all going by codenames," She stops to focus on managing a patch on her shoulder and a sigh of relief escapes her once it sticks, "Call me Captain."

"Her name is Khaak. You've been in a lot of tabloids lately, Captain. I was just reading about you before you crashed," J'nell responds, somehow managing a datapad in that amount of time. Ba'shira's attention has been piqued, swiveling her head at the pink Twi'lek in surprise, "Old article, but I can't believe I didn't realize it before when you first told me who you were."

"Article? Which one? The one from what, two years ago?" Khaak questions, leaning over the blonde woman's shoulder, "Oh yeah that is definitely old. I'll admit though, I looked pretty damn good in that tux that day."

"Khaak!?" Ba'shira can't keep her tone down, throwing her hands out in surprise, "'Nell, you're not more concerned that she's here?"

"You weren't aware? I've known where she was for years," J'nell responds, shrugging her shoulders, "The part about being married to a Sith Lord, that part is only relatively new, only maybe two or three years old."

"Who are you, anyway?" Khaak's attention diverts back to her, pushing a hand up to her head with a smile on her face. Nursing a headache then, "Shira?"

"Don't patronize me." She responds at the tone given. Sarcasm then, but she's beginning to put together the memories the two of them had before the Clarity's crew fell apart. She's gotten a lot older, though not old enough to have any visible wrinkles apparently. How long has it been? Nearly six years since she'd last seen her or anyone else for that matter. Now that she really thought about it, she had seen Khaak's picture with the blonde Minister a few times in some holomags while flickering around for good deals.

"Still spunky little Ba'shira, eh?" Khaak asks, chuckling before she doubles over actually coughing, or choking. Once she recovers, she still has that smile on her face that Ba'shira swore to wipe off her snarky face all those years ago after she'd been denied the ability to fly the freighter ship. And all the times the older woman had bullied her into accepting less than fair pay until she got smart about it, "You got somebody waitin' for you back home now, Ione? Figure you're a real catch these days."

"Yes." Ba'shira deadpans, grimacing at the use of her birth name. She'd changed it after joining the crew for a reason, and thankfully no one other than Khaak knew it. But it was also horrible because no one other than Khaak knew it, and could use it against her, like now, "And before you ask, no you can't have his name."

"Just trying to make peace, not war. 'Nough of that going around right now," Khaak holds up both hands, the same shit-eating grin that she immediately ties back to their last heist as a crew. Her expression falls after a moment though, "Any of ya'll got a ship out of here? I don't know when or if Lana can send anyone to come get me."

"If I did, we wouldn't be here." J'nell responds tiredly, putting her head in her hands and pulling the grappling hook out of her holster and down on the holoterminal as she looks over the Twi'lek, "Well, I would. Shira wouldn't."

"Damn straight," She interrupts angrily, "I ain't here by choice right now. Last couple of days haven't exactly been the best days of my life either."

"I figure. If it makes you feel any better, Imperial Intelligence is doing their best to clamp down on what's going wrong." Khaak says, pausing as she picks up her jacket again from the ground and rummaging around in the pockets for her holocom, surely. She swears under her breath, "J'nell, you didn't pick up my com by any chance, did you?"

J'nell averts her eyes, a clear answer of no. The Twi'lek groans, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees before immediately having to lie back again, "You think you can go back down there and grab it?"

"Pub patrols are probably coming through this area again. I don't know if they're shooting on sight, but I'm not taking my chances." J'nell responds, running a hand through her hair. She's right, patrols of Republic forces have quickly become more frequent and more routine in the last twenty four hours. Controlled or not, they are't friendly and probably would be willing to kill if given the chance or provoked in such a manner, "Give it another couple hours, then I'll go down for a quick moment and see if it's still there."

"I can't wait a couple hours." Khaak complains, putting a hand over her eyes to surely block out the light above her, "Lana's going to be looking for me, and if she can't on her own, I'm afraid she's going to tear through a city block to find me without a regard for who she hurts."

"Who let her be Minister then?" Ba'shira counters, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, "Isn't that like rule one of every major position with power? That you don't let your personal life get in with you business life?"

"If anything can't she put out an alert? Sure she can bypass any comm towers." J'nell gives her a warning look with her grey eyes, and Ba'shira rolls her own, "If not that, you're definitely staying put. At least until you can walk six feet without looking like you just threw back a liter."

"But--" J'nell's look yet again shuts another person down, and she crosses her arms. Not even a moment later, she makes another decision and it happens to at least be a good one, "Fine then. Intelligence has intel that the reason there are so many Republic forces on planet, including Havoc and Mayhem squad, is because a certain Theron Shan brought the Sixth Line of Jedi on planet a few days ago. Blah blah blah, Vitiate, or the Emperor, is rising again but instead of a force sensitive planet, he plans to kill everyone here so he has enough energy to start terrorizing the rest of the galaxy again."

"Sixth Line?" J'nell asks, crossing one leg over the other, blowing a hair out of her face and slipping the scarf off from around her neck, "I thought there was just the Green Jedi and the Order itself?"

"I don't know much more than you do, honestly. All this is just stuff Lana's brought home lately," Khaak confirms what she'd seen the other day with the Jedi outside. Then there were Jedi here, even if no one knew particularly why. Who even was Theron Shan? Shan sounded familiar, though she couldn't figure why right then, "I was supposed to be searching for him somewhere in New Adasta, but obviously I got shot down first. Did you guys see a ship coming down in the last couple of days?"

"There are ships and speeders and just about everything crashing these days. Not much to differentiate them all from each other, can't exactly smell Pub from here," J'nell says, scratching the back of her neck, "Plus, I'm sure Shan was on the run anyways, wouldn't be much evidence to find. This is Imperial territory anyway. Isn't like his type to be here."

"Of course, yeah. But it'd still be good to find him, he is essentially the ringleader of this mess." Khaak responds, "Not that we're friends at all, pretty sure they intend to just find him to get details on why the Sixth Line is here to begin with. If you two can help me get off Ziost and could help me dig up some dirt, I'm sure I could get you on priority evac."

Ba'shira perks up at the offer, shooting a look at J'nell that isn't reciprocated, "Priority evac, you say? What exactly would I need to do, bring him in cold or warm?"

"What do you mean, warm or cold? We need him alive to answer questions, Ione." Khaak says in that tone she despises, the one that makes her feel like she's thirteen again, "This is not a bounty by any means at all."

"Fine then." She huffs, and Khaak moves to tinker with the holoterminal, "Hey, what're you doing with that?"

"Seeing if I can connect it to anyone's com code. Lana's is encrypted, so chances are she wouldn't answer anything from here, but if I can get the Wrath's, she could probably lead me back to her," Khaak says, rushing forward again. She holds a hand to her head from the quick movement, blood spilling out of her nose in a red river. She wipes it away with the back of her hand and opens a panel on the opposite side of the machine.

"The Wrath?" J'nell's eyes widen at the title as if it's the most important thing she's heard all day, "As in the Empire's Wrath, number one on Imperial's World holomag as one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy?"

"You read a lot of tabloids," Khaak sounds mildly interested at this, though she's terribly stuffed up now as she holds a hand up to her nostrils, "But yes. Same Sith, for now five years in a row. Got one hell of a temper from what I hear."

"No wonder, with a title like 'Wrath'." Ba'shira commented as she gets up to circle the holoterminal and watches as the Twi'lek goes about her work. If there was anything to appreciate about Khaak, it was her nimble hands and how well she not only piloted, but also sliced things. Not nearly as good as Zhonani or Thara, but the skill was still there, "You're really about to go bothering one of the most influential people in the Empire?"

"If she wouldn't hurt Lana, she wouldn't hurt me. Don't worry so much, Ione." Khaak reiterates, "Besides, I don't know Nine's com code and not entirely sure I want to try hacking into that. Ain't lookin' to lose my head today or any other day for that matter."

"You've come to the wrong place if you're looking to hunker down and live, but I won't stop you." J'nell responds, pushing herself up off the couch and stretching, "It's nearly time for dinner. You hungry?"

"I could eat, yeah." Khaak nods, before stilling her head. She's got to have a pounding headache, and the look at her exposed back as Ba'shira tilts her head to take in the rest of the damage makes her wince. As mean as she wanted to be, Khaak had probably nearly died down on the streets from that crash. No sympathy was usually warranted for spacers, but Ba'shira's waning on that rule.

Still hurts, but she's yanked from memory lane as Khaak starts talking, "What was that?"

"Who's the kid? 'Nell's?" One of the holocoms with Mellena's earliest and only photo has flickered back on when Khaak had jostled it.

"Definitely ain't mine. Yeah, 'Nell's daughter Mellena. Why?" Ba'shira asks as Khaak lifts her hand from the sparking wires until she can connect them again.

"Looks a lot like the Wrath. Not much to go off of, obviously, but can't you see the likeness? It's in the nose and the lips, not to mention the eyes." She dives back into her rewiring, essentially leaving the conversation. For a moment, Ba'shira wants to scoff at the assumption. There was no way J'nell was the mother to the Empire's entire hope and future. Mellena had been taken by red Sith shortly before her six month birthday apparently, and then not a word after that as far as Ba'shira was concerned. The Wrath had never spoken of her parents to the public, but it didn't ever seem like the Amarillis' or the Quinns were red Sith. Not that she cared, of course, but it was a weird connection to make.

Ba'shira is ready to call Khaak out, maybe as just a joke, but under closer inspection of the wavering picture, she can unfortunately see what her previous Captain saw. She still doubts it, but even the implication hangs over her for the rest of the day.

After she was off Ziost, she could wonder about that. But for now, Theron Shan was her meal ticket off a dying world. He'd better watch his back.

[crqstalite]

( THE FOUNDERS )

Mellena has gained many supporters over the years, but the original founders of the Alliance remain close to her, including second-in-command diplomat and sister, Mivonie Iresso, military strategist, Hakiojkl Jorgan, covert ops director Khelan Hyllus, mother and Force mentor, Mierrio Revel and underworld operator and cousin-in-law Ba’shira Cadera.

also known as i did some character cards and really like them :)

[crqstalite]

without you. [kotfe letters]

So I felt sad last night and decided I didn’t want to finish my original thought for Tri and Malavai, so I wrote this monster of a piece, all letters, from my toons to their love interests. Now of course, I’m more sad than I was before and accomplished next to nothing. Is Ronnie canon for the Heritage universe? Bruh who knows at this point?

Written: 10.12.19. Words: 3,799.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

TO: Kira Delux

FROM: Kiveqil Delux

SUBJECT: About Satele

-

I guess we finally found our answers. That child you assumed Satele had? Finally met him. That's right, Satele Shan, a hero of the Republic and devout Jedi had a son with none other than a commander. Crazy, right? His name is Theron, I'm sure you would've liked him if you were here. Just a tad annoying sometimes, but friendly enough.

Please, Please let me find you,

Kiveqil

-

He sends it, but isn't sure it'll reach it's intended recipient. Guzzling down another glass of wine, he slams his hand down on the bar to get the droid's attention for another. Usually a Jedi doesn't drink, if at all. This one, is in pain and his aura radiates as such. A singular tear slips down his pale cheek as he rubs a hand against his eyes.

-

TO: Archiban Kimble

FROM: Una'vi Havelzy-Kimble

SUBJECT: Ronnie.

-

It's been so long, but I would never forget a face. Especially not yours. Not someone who loved me like no one else would. Someone, who even though I fell from the light, never stopped caring about me. Thought I was still the best thing to ever happen to you, right down to every little freckle on my face.

You haven't met Ronnie yet. That's our son's name, but it can't be too hard to change once I find you again, if you want. He was as much a surprise to me as he was to Kiv. Obviously at first he was pissed, but he treats Ronnie like a son himself. I think it's rather endearing, but make no mistake. My heart belongs to you first and foremost, and as soon as I find you, you're getting the longest kiss in the history of kisses, got it?

Updated: I visited Ralltiir with Ronnie today. I...I searched for you high and low, but no one could give me an answer to where you were. I can't find you, Archie. It's been five years, this galaxy is only so big. Where are you?

-

She shuts off the terminal, rubbing at her eyes as she shifts her grasp on the young, dark haired child in her arms. She chuckles, should her son get any bigger, they'd have to work out the fact that mommy can't pick him up as much anymore. She frowns as she lays him down next to him, the boy curling up on his side against her. Everyday, he looks more and more like her husband, and something about that unsettles her.

-

TO: Felix Iresso

FROM: Naji Iresso

SUBJECT: Anniversary.

-

Today's our anniversary, Felix. I'm sure you remember, you always did. How sweet you'd be to me, how you'd beg for me to return to bed with you. Sleep is scarce these days in the Alliance, and most of my time is spent with the Commanders, trying to get things done. But once all the blaster fire has passed overhead, I come back to my quarters every day and pray I see you one last time before I take my final breath.

There is no death, there is the Force. I just wish that the Force would bring you back to me.

With Love,

Naji

-

Delicate singing fills the air as lays on the grass, hair pooling out beneath her as the stars twinkle down at her. Tears well up in her eyes as she prays Felix hasn't become one of them. Simpler times would've allowed her to spend the night with him, more than enough time in the galaxy together. Now all there is, is blaster fire, lightsabers igniting, fighting. So much discord in the galaxy, and not one signature cries out like his does.

-

TO: Corso Riggs

FROM: Ghenkl Riggs

SUBJECT: My Last Run.

-

Think I'm gearing up for my last run around the galaxy searching for you, Corso. As dismal as it sounds, I think this is finally the end. I'm not a teenager anymore, I'm not twenty anymore. I'm already forty, and as much as I love you I can't keep perking up at every mention of some smuggler terrorizing the galaxy. I wish it were you, but it never is.

Bet you'd laugh if you saw me now, all run ragged with grey hairs. Drinking more than I should because I know my final days are coming. Rum, beer, the like. Stars, just come home, please.

Fun while it lasted,

Ghen

-

It's not hard to see the woman is exhausted, dark circles underneath her eyes as she clenches a blaster in her hand. It's well worn, but clearly well loved as she looks down at it fondly. Rubbing at her eyes, she stands away from the terminal and holsters it. What's running through her mind isn't clear as she walks away quickly, her head held high as she grimaces.

-

TO: Aric Jorgan

FROM: Hakiojkl Hyperion-Jorgan

SUBJECT: Home.

-

Home is where the heart is. That's what my mom says every single day, every day I come back to her. It's been a while since I've been on Coruscant.

It reminds me too much of you. What we've done, what we've accomplished. Who we've saved, who we've avenged in the name of the Republic. After officially being discharged from the military when I did get back, Garza kept a spot open for me the whole time. I never wanted back in, I couldn't handle being in a squad without you as my right hand man.

Blast it, writing things always made me jumpy. I could never get my words out right, and it just sounds back even typing this. But gods, Aric you're my husband. If you've been sending me things, I'm sorry I never found them. I don't know what you're doing out there, but I'm sure you're doing some damn fine work. I don't know whether you're alive or not, what happened to the rest of Havoc.

I haven't been home in years. My heart still lies with you, and until I find you, I'm homeless.

Love,

Hakio

-

The dark skinned woman isn't quick to rise from her seat after meetings anymore. The way she lingers, as if she's waiting for someone is unsettling. As if ghosts haunt the hall ways of the Odessen base, as she crumples on the ground without her real leg, phantom pains making her cry out for her lover. With no one to save her but her previous comrade, it's a heart shattering walk back to her cabin as she cries over and over again for him to come get her.

-

TO: Elara Dorne

FROM: Xev'heng Lumere

SUBJECT: Last Life Day.

-

Dearest,

You've always been good at treating me right. I feel like I haven't exactly provided for you since then.

It's been years, I know. I know someone like you would've found someone else, someone to support you through all of this. I know I loved you, I know you loved me. But I abandoned you, for five years. Five years of pain, five years of longing. I know it's been hard for me, but I can't imagine how hard it's been for you.

I'm searching for you as I write this. The Alliance has been searching for recruits, but as much as they need a new medic, I need you. I need you back, Elara. I've been a mess without you, and I can't last like this.

-Xev

-

It isn't hard to see how the man grieves. A portion of his lekku is missing as the other hangs limply down his back. One of his previously lavender eyes has gone grey, though he's always so quick to find his old commanding officer to help her through the pain. However, his suffering hides far beneath his smiles and sarcasm.

-

TO: Malavai Quinn

FROM: Tri'ama Amarillis-Quinn

SUBJECT: Stations.

-

It's always been a matter of station with you, hasn't it, Malavai? Statistics, reports, briefings. Rising in the Empire after hitting a ceiling. A rising star before being kept on Balmorra. Then, you met me. Things changed after that, didn't they? You met Vette, who you despised at first before you came to care for her. You met Jaesa, though you weren't ever terribly clear what you thought about her. You met Pierce, who you thoroughly hated, though you worked with him well. And Broonmark, though neither of us grew terribly close to our furry protector.

You tried to kill me. End my life there on the Transponder Station above Corellia. How it pained you so, how I had to hear some of your bones crack sickeningly against the blastdoor. How you made me jump for months afterwards. How I still didn't trust you completely when I agreed to marry you, agreed to let you back into my quarters, back into my heart.

What am I trying to say, Malavai? I'm trying to say that though I was horrible about showing what I thought about you, that I loved you. That I loved the way I could catch you off-guard by planting a sneaky kiss on your cheek. That I loved the way you could catch me off-guard by pulling me in, one arm around waist as you kissed me hard. The way we would wake up together in the morning, and go to bed together at night.

You've surely risen in your station, Malavai. I hope the last few years have treated you well, that you've finally become more than just a Captain. That you can lead an army of your own men now, instead of being in that army. I wish the best for you.

I don't know where the Alliance is taking me, but galaxy be damned if they try to keep me from my husband.

Once you told me you wished to continue being my loyal captain and dutiful husband -I kept your letters after all these years, yes- to that I respond with this: I wish to continue being your imposing Darth, and loving wife. Do you understand that, hubby?

Do you know how much I miss you? How much I still love you?

-Tri'ama.

-

The Darth is harder to read, her emotions aren't as prominent as others who have lost their lovers. She accepts, she moves on. She continues to cut down those who stand in her way, she continues to be a beacon of hope for the Empire. But something about the way she doesn't let anyone take care of her injuries, is worrying enough.

-

TO: Andronikos Revel

FROM: Mierrio Revel

SUBJECT: Wine.

-

Remember how I didn't ever like that you drank as much as you did? How I'd be annoyed when you came back wasted?

I see the appeal now. It gives me time to forget about the pain of losing you. About the pain of being alone. I feel fuzzy, like the last five years have all been a dream instead of my twisted reality. It burns me so bad, but I'm willing to endure a bit of pain just to forget how much I miss you.

Hate wondering whether you've finally kicked the bucket, with all the kriffing shit you get into. Your reckless flying, the way you'd nearly sacrifice your dumbass for me. I can't feel your presence anywhere, and that scares me somedays, Nikky. You never knew whether we were going to be together forever, and neither did I. Back then I wouldn't have cared less for you saying something like that, because whatever came up we'd kill it together.

Now you're gone, and I'm still here. I know you said that we'd be together forever, while we were in each other's orbits, and until the stars finally went cold. I'm scared, Nikky. I really think this is the end. It's been too long for you to still be out there.

Come home, you kriffing dumbass. You know where to find me.

-M

-

From first glance, you never would've guessed the woman was a Sith, capable of murdering hordes of enemies beneath her lightsaber and lightning. She looked like nothing more than a spaced out spacer, staring out into the void of her ship, throwing back yet another bottle of rum. Something snaps, as she throws the glass bottle against the wall, and it shatters into thousands of glass pieces as she roars in anger.

-

TO: Mako Li'ui

FROM: Theksevoy Li'ui

SUBJECT: Honeymoon.

-

I never got you your fairytale ending, and I'm so sorry. It was always 'tommorrow' or 'when we have the credits'. I'm so sorry Mako, you deserved better than me.

If I ever see you again, when I see you again, we're ditching this whole business and blasting off to the far, luxorious corners of the galaxy and living like royalty until the galaxy catches up to us or we die. Whatever happens, we do it together.

Someone in the Alliance (I'm betting it was one of the Ciphers, Nine and Twenty-Six always manage to mess me up) found our records and sent them to me.

I love you, Mako Li'ui.

-Thek

-

Everyone was afraid of the brute, Mandalore's Champion. Everyone knows his name, but not his story. No one wants to get close, to make him snap, to make him angry. The only people that have come back without a horror story to tell is the small, thin Intelligence agent. No one knows what she did for him, but he protects her with his life now.

-

TO: Torian Cadera

FROM: Ba'shira Cadera

SUBJECT: Get Away.

-

That hunting trip would've been nice, cyare. Should've taken you up on it earlier, before all this Alliance business happened. Had I not been there, I would still be with you. Hunting down the big game, bringing home the prizes with you. Spending every waking moment with my Torian.

Skinned myself a nice beast. Beasts, in fact. Without Bounty Hunting and since I haven't been able to find your Clan (our Clan, right? Never felt all that welcome), been collecting hides and such. Think you'll like 'em when you get back, cyare.

Everyday is my aay'han without you there with me,

-Shira

-

The woman is a clean shot, always. The target is never empty, and the holes never waver from the bright red target. It's terrifying, in fact. The way that if you bother her, she turns from the firing range but still shoots perfectly. It's enough to keep anyone in the Alliance from bothering the Mandalorian, even though somedays she wishes someone would continue bothering her. To keep her from thinking these horrible thoughts.

-

TO: Vector Hyllus

FROM: Rubiksi Delux-Hyllus

SUBJECT: Nests.

-

I've visited nests. I find them fascinating, and for the most part, they accept my presence. Some kinder nests enjoy my visits, though I had to leave most rather hurriedly, they wish for me to become part of their nests. I'm not sure they understand that I am human and don't wish to Join them, but they let me be.

Those of the Oroboro nest are harder to convince. They know me, and they love me. In a way different from the way you loved me, like siblings, like parents. I spent a majority of my time on Alderaan with them before the Alliance came to be...I had dark thoughts, Vector. I really believed it was time to end it all. The cliff where you saved me became my home for months on end, though every time I couldn't bear to slip off without knowing if you knew I was still alive.

So I didn't. I considered other ways of getting rid of my consciousness. Drinking has always made me nauseous, so I kept away from doing so. Bounty Hunting affected my conscience in a way I didn't think it would after everything Intelligence put me through.

I wanted to Join, Vector. I thought that if I let them absorb me into the colony, that I'd see you again. That everything would just fade away. I remember you once told me you didn't want me to either, because my individuality would be gone. I brushed you off, I'd already known that my individuality had been stripped away by the SIS and Intelligence. But, as the search continues I've accepted that this is who I am, and taking this away wouldn't make you happy.

The Alliance found me, told me Cipher Nine could help them with the fight against the Eternal Empire. I believed they were crazy for a moment there, what would a lowly Cipher do against a galaxy-spanning tyrannical ruler? They were quick to convince me that I could do a lot, and with my ties to Intelligence, it wouldn't be difficult to have a leg up in the war.

I thought if I helped them, they'd help me. They tried to, tried to find you. But they needed me every waking moment, leaving them as an ally of the Alliance made me a target. It isn't until now we've begun really searching for those lost during the war.

I was told Killiks lost a majority of their nests as well. I can't imagine how that feels, but those I built a connection to are in pain. Mutual pain is never something I wished to endure, and for now I've accepted I don't belong with the Empire anymore. My allegiance ended as soon as they used them for canon fodder.

I pray you were one of the lucky ones, Vector.

-Rubiksi

-

The most listless out of all the recruits to the Alliance, the lithe human female stares out the window, blonde, brittle hair over her shoulder as she leans against a pillar. It seems everything is too big for the woman these days, as she tries to hide herself among the crowds. A ghost of herself, the amber-eyed agent isn't sociable, and many are afraid to approach her. But, no one wants to admit they're afraid one day they'll wake up and she won't be there.

-

Some bonus letters from characters who didn't romance Bioware's LIs.

-

TO: Theron Shan

FROM: [Redacted]

SUBJECT: [Redacted]

-

Hmm..You've always been a tough one, Shan. Slippery, odd. Never really ever landed on how old you were, whether Theron or Shan was really your name. You're good at your job, I'll give you that.

I'm not going to say I'm sorry for being gone. After Yavin, [Redacted] and I had our differences. She didn't trust me, I didn't trust her. Lana was having her own issues keeping [Redacted] from doing something catastrophic, and didn't trust me not to switch sides again. I'm not apologetic for what I did, and I never will be. I look out for myself first, you three second.

But this? This is rather odd. [Redacted] is an interesting place to hide, especially among [Redacted]. Given, this has been my home for a while, and [Redacted] was easy to convince to let me stay here too. I have my ways, always. But I suggest you go back to pretty boy, think you've really struck a nerve now. But [Redacted] is going to throw a fit if you show that shaven head around her again.

-

The water front has been a nice home for the last few years as she giggles, baring her teeth as a woman wraps her hands around her waist, tickling her until she can't breathe. Though, the giggles are cut short as the Cathar woman's eyes widen, hearing them before the door breaks down. A shriek as silk flies, one look behind her and she's out the window, tumbling to the ground in little more than a sheer top and a skirt, she begins running, cursing the man's name under her breath.

-

TO: Aristocra Saganu

FROM: Scy'arla Tuvii

SUBJECT: Red Flame

-

I didn't understand what that meant until I looked into it among the other Chiss at headquarters. Once I did, you can't imagine the kind of warmth that sent. I'd only known you for a few weeks at best, but I wish I could've gotten to known you better. I know I'm little more than just a Twi'lek in most Chiss eyes, but I really did feel like I was more to you. I hope it wasn't misplaced.

We both have responsibilities past the other's knowledge. I know you're rather important to the Chiss, but I don't pry beyond that. I assume you know more about me, but I don't know how far that goes. I hope if you did learn anymore, it doesn't go much further past my objectives on Hoth with regards to Intelligence. I don't think you could see me in the same light if you knew more, I'm sorry.

Whether this reaches you or not, I'm not sure. You're busy, I'm busy. You're not like other men, I have a past I'm not ready to admit to. I'd like to extend an invitation to a suite on Dromound Kaas if you could ever get away for that long. It's beneath you, I'm sure, but think about it?

-Cy.

-

The Alliance doesn't seem to have taken the same toll on Scy'arla. The Cipher is rarely around, if at all, as a supplier. Still loyal, and frankly terrifyingly, to the Empire, she can't be relied on. The first assumption is that she is their traitor, that she has finally sold them out. But, when the time comes, her hands are clean, and everyone is left in surprise when the real traitor is outed among them. A chuckle here, an 'I told you so' there, is the all the agent leaves behind.

-

TO: [Redacted]

FROM: Darth Ezridivia Uvon

SUBJECT: You know what.

-

I know you have something to do with this. You always did have a hand in the cookie jar [Redacted]. As frustrating as it was to deal with you, I really do wonder whether you assisted Theron with this. You two were always a bit too close, though you argued all the time and butt heads even more than he and Lana did. You'd known each other for so much longer, worked together to get things done. You might've been gone for the last five years, but I just know you're behind this somehow. Theron wouldn't just do this to the Alliance.

I know someone like you, would.

-

The pureblood Sith woman paces back and forth, as her blonde comrade types away at a terminal. A grimace here, an angry monolouge there. The woman had no shortage of anger for the agent and his partner, even though she wasn't ready to admit that neither would do this without provocation. She fed off the raw emotions of shock and anger from those in the Alliance, but her nearly melancholy wife really kept her from snapping.

-

[crqstalite]

archives, atin’la. [ba’shira & mierrio]

atin’la: mandalorian for tough

evidently, ziost was not the first time mierrio and ba'shira met in dire circumstances. and clearly, would not be the last.

shorter chapter, originally intended to be a fun jab at ba’shira and mierrio’s past exploits together before ziost; instead became an insight into her and torian’s relationship. oops-

-

"Sith!"

Everything is moving too quickly for anyone to acknowledge what's going on outside their own two feet hitting the ground in rapid succession. There's nothing else to acknowledge other than their own two feet hitting the ground as they run for their literal lives.

For this alone, Ba'shira has already decided she is never visiting Makeb again, for a Sith's grand plan for repairing the mess their infighting (Ba'shira now knew why Mandalorians didn't really interact with Sith -- and would keep in mind to keep her distance next time one came knocking) had caused or otherwise. Considering the planet was about to blow it's top while they were still on it, there might not even be a Makeb to visit later down the line. Getting out of the drill shaft, where it's dark, dingy and falling apart on top of them is her first priority over everything else. Finishing the mission be damned, Katha, Cytharat and Marr would have to deal with failure if it meant she could see the light of another day.

Both Mandalorians are taking up the rear of their small party, that being them and the Sith Lord and her husband. How they'd gotten stuck together, she wasn't entirely sure. Why Marr had requested Nox's assistance with the technically Imperial world was understandable. Why the man (was he man under all that armor? She knew her and Torian's beskar'gam was extensive but at least they still knew they were human underneath it all) had hired her, was another mystery entirely. Great Hunt Champion or not, there was about a thousand reasons why she wasn't qualified to deal with a planet that was dying from extensive mining of some mineral or the other, and another thousand for why she deserved way more than just hazard pay for this job.

Hell, there weren't enough credits for this bantha dung of a mission.

Ba'shira is throwing a look over her shoulder every few moments to see whether or not the surviving Regulators had followed them through the shaft. Yes, she'd left them wounded and Nox had shocked them to oblivion and back but you never knew at the best of times. Humans, Zabraks, Rattataki, you name it, they tended to be way more resilient than expected.

Hearing the yelling in front of her, Ba'shira pauses for a moment to assess the situation, and she can see where the high, rock ceiling is coming apart before them, making the path to safety more and more perilous as the moments pass. There will be dings and dents in her beskar for days after this, and while it's an excuse to spend more time with Torian, she's afraid the metal won't continue to hold up under all the abuse it's taking. Or there won't be a her underneath it all to spend time with.

Riveting her gaze towards the nearly hysterical pirate in front of them, Nox had paused, turning to look at her husband with a confused and worried look in her eyes as she tries to make out what he says to her. Gaze darting around before falling on the issue in question, Ba'shira curses in Mando'a (means the translations have finally been sticking, exactly when she doesn't need them) and quickly realizes why Andronikos had yelled for her. A boulder is growing loose from the ceiling.

Nox has paused in exactly the right place to get crushed.

Nox herself looks up too late to do much about it, and her amber yellow eyes widen in fear before holding her hands up as if to protect herself. Sith were odd, but even she was sure that the woman couldn't keep the inevitable from happening. Essentially, Nox has paused for much too long, and Ba'shira groans and does the only thing she knows is right, even though it's sure to get her killed if she hesitates for even a moment. A running start as the boulder begins to fall, she activates her jetpack in a split second and blasts forward. Knocking the wind out of the Sith Lord and out of the way of the rock of death, dust gathers around them as the boulder falls, the shadow of the boulder growing larger and larger on the ground as the seconds pass. Nox has been pushed out of the way, and she's gearing up to blast her own way out. But, it's as if time speeds up, and she can barely getting a finger to the button before she sees the boulder out of the corner of her eyes.

The last thing Ba'shira sees is the woman skidding to the ground with a look of panic and confusion on her dirtied, pale face, and the yell of her name in Torian's voice over the rumbling of the groundquake as she tries her best to get up and run.

She can see the flash of tan as Torian runs for her, and all she can yell is a solemn, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika."

Well, that would be a nice ending to her. A nice obituary for the underworld if she even ended up that popular. Least her last words wouldn't be obscenities. Torian would live on knowing he taught her something in Mando'a, as unteachable and insufferable as she was.

And in death, Sith couldn't bother her to go to unstable planets and fight their wars anymore.

-

Except, it seemed this Sith wanted to continue tormenting her for a bit longer.  Ba'shira can barely believe it herself, as she holds her breath, waiting for her body to black out. But she's still sore, and the beskar is heavy against her body.

Cracking open one eye, and then the other, she's in shock as she finds that the boulder is levitating just above her. She's not dead, at least not yet. The rumbling is still deafening around her, and the rock is just barely tapping the toe of her boot. A moment later, it lowers by just a millimeter again. She panics, thinking she's only cheated death for a few moments. She can't move, her whole foot is almost being crushed, she can't say anything in fear it'll bring her end about faster. All before it's being thrown to the side and she can see the extended cave again. A loud crash sounds and she instinctively rolls onto her side to block the worst of it hitting her front.

She's alive.

Ba'shira Cadera has finally crossed that off her bucket list -- cheating death. Mako would not believe it if they made it back in one piece. The Mandalorian woman is nearly hyperventilating at this point before she really registers that she's still breathing, that she's has all her limbs, that she's still alive.

She's in-between crying and laughing -- both out of being grateful for her saving grace (whatever it was) or chuckling at death's inability to finish the job. It's already bubbling up and out of her throat as she chucks her helmet off, and it clatters to the ground beside her while she sits up, hunched over. Running a hand through her sweaty hair, she blinks a couple times to get the dust out and tries to register her surroundings again. Torian comes back into view as she begins to remember she's not alone, and the Sith Lord and her husband looked genuinely relieved as the three of them come over to her.

That was new. Nox didn't seem to care for her safety as much as she did the pirate's, but if she had been the one to yank the boulder off her as the only force sensitive in the vincinty, she guessed she owed her life to the Sith now.

Fuck.

Her first concern is very much Torian (after she's come to this conclusion), he's taken off his own helmet and throws it down to hold his forehead against hers as they both throw their arms around the other. For a moment, he's the only thing going on in the world, no matter how hot they both are underneath their layers of armor or how close to death both of the came in the last few hours. It's as if she can't touch enough of him, trying to remind him that she's here and she's alive and that she's okay, "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur, Torian. I'm okay, cyar'ika."

There may be a chuckle she didn't catch, because he helps her up and a relieved smile crosses his face. If she can joke, she can breathe, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum" He responds softly. Considering their current company, he doesn't make to kiss her, but instead is happy enough to squeeze her hand in his. She squeezes back before grabbing her helmet and holding it under an arm. It's dented beyond belief, and even being adopted into a clan, she's not sure where in hell to acquire more of the metal.

"Looks like whatever's going down now, we aren't leaving for a while." The gruff voice of the pirate snaps her back to reality as both of their allies approach them. They're still stuck down here, and by the defeated look on the Sith Lord's pale face in the dim blue light of the staticky communicator, they've lost com connection as well. It made enough sense during the quake, but if they're truly stuck down here, Ba'shira has a few ideas that would get out of there faster.

Rockets, mostly. But she could be persuaded otherwise. Missiles were always an option.

"Thank you though, for that. Y'know, risking you're life like that for her." Is his follow-up sentence. This is the first time they've spoken seriously since they met two weeks ago, and Ba'shira can see the relief written all over his face even if he attempts to hide it beneath the bravado and quick draw action he shows off to them. The Sith nods absentmindedly, her attentions clearly not with them right then, "You didn't have to nearly sacrifice yourself for her, but you did."

"'Course. Wasn't going to just let her die like that. I knew if I could, I should. And I did." She responds, "Know no one wants to go home without their wife. Wasn't going to let that happen to you. Are we really stuck here though?"

"The shaft has been cut off entirely. It'd take hours to blast through it, but if I could just--" the Sith looks to where they'd come from, and where the entrance had been before looking down at her hands. The woman is unnecessarily pale, and she clearly has a headache of some sort by the way she keeps blinking and rubbing her temples. Her husband cuts her off rather quickly.

"Sith, you're not pulling a stunt like that again. Corsha took a lot out of you, and you're not making your recovery any smoother by chucking rocks triple the size of you." He says sternly. Ba'shira considers making the note that the maybe 5"3 woman was going to be smaller than everything they come across, but holds her tongue. Now she's curious about this Corsha person, and wonders if someone had tried to kill her. If she's being honest, it wouldn't be surprising with her personality and reputation.

"Thankful for our lives, really. But if it's too much for you to even attempt that, Torian and I still have some firepower left over." She responds instead, considering that boulder could've made her a Mandalorian pancake had the Sith not overexerted herself and not feeling as bad about it now, "Might take a bit, especially with those monsters we encountered earlier depleting most of any weapons we have."

"Niar hasn't responded to our calls yet either. Figure she'll get a crew down here soon, but Cytharat was the only force user capable of something like that. It'll take ages for anyone to get through there with anything short of a firing crew." He says, confirming her worst suspicions, "We just gotta sit tight for a while until we can get in contact with anyone at this point."

"They wouldn't leave a Sith Lord to die down here. Me, maybe, Marr probably couldn't give less of a kriffing shit about me, but he wouldn't let her go. I say two hours, maybe three tops before we're home free." She says nonchalantly. Marr wouldn't let Nox die, maybe her enemies on the Council (if she had any, and maybe this Corsha person while they were at it) would, but she prays that by association she gets out of this as well. Ba'shira has debts she hasn't paid yet, and Mako, Gault, and Blizz would be hunted down by the Cartel if she didn't pay those back. Even through death, the Hutts always got their money back.

The Sith slumps against her husband only a few moments later, clearly out of it and exhausted. Ba'shira (and her two companions) originally assume she's really gone and kicked the bucket, but later she learns the woman had given birth only a few months earlier (Corsha was her first biological child and it had been a trying pregnancy for her, according to Andronikos. Ba'shira had also finally learned their names properly during this conversation) and had forced herself back onto the battlefield. Currently suffering from Force Exhaustion, no wonder she'd passed out, running a fever and breathing hard. Kolto couldn't exactly be administered in this situation except for minor scratches and injuries here and there, but their minimal supplies of water and rations are dealt out accordingly to deal with everyone's waning battle highs. They manage to do some damage, but other than trying to keep Mierrio and everyone cool, there isn't much else to do but wait as advised. Ba'shira can't even get in contact with the Mantis, and time ticks by on her chrono

Six hours. They spend six hours under all the rubble until they manage to loosen the rubble enough to blast their way out with the minimal assistance of another ground team with shovels (she wonders if she can convince the semi-conscious Mierrio to advocate for better recovery teams, they wouldn't have spent nearly as long in the tunnel if they had more than measly shovels). It goes about business as usual, though the Revels would be out of the operation for a day or two for the woman to recover her strength. Ba'shira's nearly sad to see her go, before also remembering that the woman was partially the reason she was here and the reason she had to cheat death to begin with.

As soon as they're back on solid ground, making to return to their lodgings for the evening, Ba'shira and Torian find themselves alone overlooking the mesas of Makeb, sun setting over the ridges as the cool wind blows by.

It'd be a pretty day, was she not still thinking about the incident from earlier that had been brushed off so easily by Niar and her team. Yet again, why Ba'shira didn't prefer working with Imperials. They never ceased to be frustratingly reclusive and apathetic at the worst of times. Sure Ba'shira had enough apathy to go around the whole crew twice, but still. She'd be way more concerned about her team's safety, especially considering she was on their payroll.

There's no ceremony, not anything preceding before they seem to both have the same idea at once. Taking each other in their arms once out of sight of any other Imperials, and kissing the other hard, as if they haven't seen each other in ages. If she's being honest, between being shot at, and being choked out by a Sith Lord, this has to be one of her worst near death experiences. Ba'shira had never been gung ho about saving other people, her own hide meant more to her than anyone elses', but she'd kick ass for her cyare's life. She hated being in tight spaces anyways, and that split second that she thought she was going to die there in a musty tunnel with two people she couldn't care less about and her Torian looking as if he wanted to save her himself set a panic in her. It wasn't just her anymore either, aside from her crew that she treated like family, Torian was the one man who honestly respected her not for how she looked, but how she fought and her personality.

And she had almost lost him.

Returning to their quarters that night, Ba'shira and Torian spend their time cleaning off their beskar and repairing what they can before the sun rises again. The new paint job she'd only gotten weeks before their mission to Makeb had come off in streaks and she cursed every time she found a grey area where the coloring had come off. The deep maroon and tangerine orange had been such a nice choice beforehand, but she'd been cheap just this once and had chosen a lower quality paintjob. The damage could've been worse, and she's glad there are only a few places she needs to get an armorsmith to bang back into place. The helmet, she'd have to go without until they were done with this planet, but Torian reassures her that he won't wear his if she doesn't wear hers.

Maybe it was time for a new color. Pink hadn't gone too well with the orange, but a coral color could go nicely with it. Orange, for a 'lust for life' and pink, for respecting someone. All things her cyare had told her, and sleeping against him that night, she's halfway in between regretting saving the wife and mother of two because of the distress she'd put him in, but at the same time glad because it meant she was upholding her code. There was no honor in leaving the woman to die if there was something she could do about it. While she was sure that even if she wasn't Mandalorian that he'd still care for her, she's happy she was able to find a medium between being one and being herself.

"Hey, Torian?" She whispers, late at night and laying on her side. He's still awake, if not blearily. His cyan blue eyes take a moment to focus on her, but when they do it's as if her body temperature has gone up a few degrees. Only one of the many reasons she married him, she would swim in his eyes for hours if she could.

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, just as quiet. Ba'shira smiles, she wonders if she looks just as young as him, or whether he can tell what she's about to say.

"No, nothing's wrong, cyar'ika." She answers after a pause, "I love you."

He doesn't seem surprised though, the corners of his lips pulling upwards with a soft smile.  He gently pulls her closer, and presses a kiss to her forehead, before leaning his forehead against her's. Even without their helmets, it's a natural reaction to both of them now, "I love you too, 'Shira."

"Bet you're glad you taught me all that Mando'a now, huh?"

"Haven't started cursing in it yet. See that as a good thing." He answers, a smirk on his face as she rolls her eyes, "Remember you wanting to get me out of my armor first."

"Details, details..."

-

It isn't until nearly eleven years later that she meets the infamous Corsha Revel that had given her mother so much trouble the year after her birth. Given, she's missing her father and younger brother (she was not the youngest anymore, and Ba'shira was curious why Mierrio hadn't stopped with her if Force Exhaustion was so prevalent with her), but the girl is a fiesty thing. Her fiery personality reminds her immediately of the pirate and the Sith, and it's hard not to take her under her wing until Andronikos returns. Essentially, she handles the girl's shooting skills until her father takes over.

Gar taldin ni jaonyc. It was a phrase that Torian often reflected on that he thought was a good summary of his life. At first, he hadn't told her what exactly it meant, until he had after they'd allied with Tormen for good. "Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be", apparently. Until she'd met Corsha and Ronin, and really registered the people that they were, from the people who had raised them, she didn't fully understand the meaning behind the phrase. Later, she did.

Mandalorians valued family, legacies, maybe more than even the Sith did. Ba'shira had never been the type to want children, before Zakuul had attacked, her life plan was to get rich and then die rich. Kids be damned. Torian had never aired a concern to her that they were getting too old to have them, but she was coming up on her thirty first birthday, she's beginning to realize Clan Cadera is going to die with the last Mandalorians with the name.

Ba'shira's mothers had died long before they could've taught her anything useful about motherhood. Now, she was curious. Could her body even handle carrying a child to full-term after all the abuse she'd put it through over the years? Considering her own adoption in Mandalore's clan, she figured there wasn't anything against adopted children carrying on a Clan name.

Did she, Ba'shira Cadera, even want kids?

After Darvannis, seeing so many Mandalorians all in one place again, she thinks about it again. The Orchid had been no place to bring a child into the galaxy, with all the sharp edges and the Jawa with the sharp edges. Odessen in wartime wasn't really either, but the Revel children had quickly adapted to their new surroundings. They were also ranging in ages from thirteen to ten though.

A dark haired or blonde little boy or girl, running about an causing a ruckus alongside their parents. Or a Twi'lek, or a Zabrak, or a Chiss, or hell even a Pureblood if she's getting really crazy. Any kid of her's, biological or otherwise, would be loved.

Another day, she thinks, getting to her feet and readjusting her helmet, another day to think about these things. Can't catch a bounty if I can't see over my own two feet.

Another day won, for Clan Cadera.

[crqstalite]

( ANGEL WITH A SHOTGUN )

As most eventually come to realize, you can not always point a blaster at things and win. But as these three tend to also realize, anything can be shot, and that they also don’t care. Galactic superpower, God or superweapon, Khaak, Hakio and Ba’shira will stand up to it all with a nice gift to Zakuul -- from Czerka, of course.

[crqstalite]

( SCIAMACHY)

noun. a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow

ba’shira cadera - mandalore’s champion. zhonani kruwa - empire’s hired gun. khaak typoni - republic privateer. weit’hara’jel “thara weit” - the chiss exile. aethreen zaares - the ruthless hunter.

❝  twinkle twinkle little snitch, mind your business nosey bitch ❞  

against my better judgement, i guess these five knew each other in their older days, prior to their excursions on hutta or in thara’s case, after. they got up to what you’d assume bad girls get up to, kickin ass and taking names. or kicking names and taking ass, all depended on the day. ‘long as they got paid.

also inspired primarily because i was listening to the mandalorian’s theme and realized i had like four of them running around in one universe or another and goddamn would it be fun to write for these dumbasses. a younger thara with a bunch of trigger happy teenagers? aethreen and zho being the lesbians that they are? shira navigating the waters with torian? thara trying to raise her son alongside all of this? khaak meeting lana for the first time before forged alliances? sign me the fuck up. 

let me know your guys’ thoughts. i might write this if there’s enough interest. or if it’s three am and i can’t sleep.

[crqstalite]

part 14, partner in crime #2 (torian && ba’shira)

bleh, this one’s kinda slow because it’s just torian thinking about ba’shira and ghenkl misaging them. probably will be re-written later lol.

written: 9.5.19. word count: 2,235

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: miss jackson, panic! at the disco

character file: ba'shira cadera, champion of the great hunt.

-

when they first met, ba'shira had flipped him onto his back and held him at gunpoint. all with some clever quip too, which is what he remembers most from that experience. other than the fact that the noise could've attracted some unneeded monsters, but the verdant green orbs of her that glowed in the darkness of the transport station took his mind off of his impending doom immediatly.

"i just wanted to see you again." she says so smoothly, turning around slowly as her hair just barely covers her eyes. she's quick, agile as she kicks his legs out from under him and flips him over with ease. "now what are you doing out here?"

torian is sure that's when he first fell in love with the companion to the champion.

(he's also halfway sure that at that point, she barely even knew his name. and intended to shoot him if he didn't answer.)

companion is the wrong word, the charming (if not also brazen) female bounty hunter is much more than just a side character. even if she didn't take the shot to end their target, ba'shira has been part of theksevoy's crew since the beginning (well, mako holds that title, but ba'shira claims a close second). they have a special relationship (one he's jealous of if he's being honest), they always know what the other's about to say, when the other needs backup, exactly when the other's beskar'gam needs cleaning or repair. she was part of his crew when the great hunt was still in session, and apparently often accompanied him to targets. like a brother and sister, the two do not take shit from anyone.

it's amazing. watching two of the galaxy's finest piggy back off each other (sometimes literally, the smaller female leaping off the taller male with her jetpack and proceeding to incinerate the surrounding area) it's something different than when she and torian are out alone.

stars, he really needs to stop thinking about his boss like this.

however, the dark haired woman made it clear she didn't want to be just his boss anymore. from the sly looks and coy answers to his questions, ba'shira isn't exactly shy about her desires. his first major fear was that she wasn't exclusive to him due to her less than conventional tactics to earn her way to the targets' names and locations, but it seems that fear was absolutely baseless. after his confession, he's not even sure she looks at other men or women.

or, can keep her hands off of him.

it makes him nervous, he'll admit that. she makes him nervous. he hasn't really known many other women in a romantic sense, but meeting a woman who wasn't born or raised mandalorian changes his outlook on the galaxy. she interprets their culture as she goes along, follows laws as loosely as possible. but, she doesn't hold back when it comes to him. ba'shira just leads, and he follows. the armored woman isn't afraid to either, as she yanks him by his armor to smash her lips on his.

stars, she is strong. he knows this too, watching her train and as they spar. she's fast, but muscular as well. her loose clothing hides it, but once she's in little more than a sports bra and sweatpants, he can see their excursions have turned her into a very brawny warrior. as the sweat shines off her forehead during their brawls and she straddles him, she asks him to call uncle before she releases his arms from her grip.

he can see their future going far.

"she still isn't down yet?" theksevoy startles him out of his thoughts, though he keeps his poker face up. the man is a hulking 6"3 beast, dark skin with blonde hair and caramel brown eyes. he stands quite a few inches taller than torian himself, and can lift so much more. at this point, he can see why the galaxy's most wanted is such an icon, women nearly chasing him down at every outpost they stop at.  "thought you guys were supposed to be gone like an hour ago."

"trying to get rid of us, champion?" he asks as thek chuckles.

"i'd never, torian. guess we're playing by the no curfew game again tonight, huh?" the older male asks, winking as torian tries to catch on to whatever joke he's trying to get across. "when can i expect you back?" he asks, once he realizes his sly joke flew right over the young mandalorian's head.

"depends on her." he answers. "if she stays out, i stay out." and that's true enough. torian would never come back without her.

"cool. don't do anything stupid. ghen needs this job." theksevoy answers, tucking his hands into his lounges and heading back up the stairs to his and mako's quarters. torian's mind wanders to the slicer that's the closest in age to him other than his partner. he's curious what's she's been up to lately. but, he'll catch up when he and ba'shira get back.

torian had yet to meet this ghenkl, though he figured she wouldn't be too much trouble if thek trusted him and ba'shira to arrange the details. she'd only been described as meaning well, if not a little all over the place. a tall, buff pale zabrak woman in a cantina should be easy enough to find. the only things he knows concrete about this woman is just that, and the fact she'll probably see them first.

"of course, champion." he answers, the other male disappearing back to his quarters after nodding. thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long for the woman of the hour once he hears her her boots clank on the durasteel of the mantis. she isn't dressed up, which isn't surprising (he never expects her to, and she hasn't broken that expectation except for once). she's got a mischeveous grin on her face as she takes his hand in hers.

"you ready to go, torian?" she asks, shaking out her messy ponytail and letting the shaggy haircut fall around her shoulders. the tawny curls accentuate her face in a way he can't describe as her eyes twinkle in the dim light of the mantis.

"always."

-

carrick station is busy, as always. when they disembark from the mantis, ba'shira is (as always) attracted to all the shiny new blasters the gtn is advertising. of course, she's also wary. (the last two nearly killed her and left her face wishing that she hadn't been swayed so quickly.)

of course, the two youngest members of the crew get distracted by all the weapons on display. now, ba'shira knows what torian has his eye on for life day, and intends to sneak back out later to retrieve the vibrostaff. it's not even close to the holiday yet, but even she knows she's gonna forget when it is.

they head down the cantina after they've wandered the expanse of carrick station for a bit. pulling out her holo, the photo of the zabrak woman is compared to everyone she can see. humans, more humans, a few twi'leks and torgutas mingle among each other. in the dim light, she's considering just spending the rest of her night and allowance on drinks for her and torian to spend the night out. his pale skin nearly shines in the yellow lighting, and she figures it'd look better with a few kisses of her painted lips on it.

"oi!" a voice makes her turn, and looking up a woman fitting the description is waving at her from an alcove above them in the vip area. "come on up, would you?"

she and torian share of look of confusion before heading up the elevator. the bouncer gives them a look at first before turning away in a gruff of approval. a moment later, they step out onto the vip area of carrick station, turning this way and that to find the woman who had been speaking to them. eventually, ba'shira finds the scantily dressed woman who wears little more than a bikini and a jacket over a pair of greaves and boots. she's sitting with a dark skinned male, who gives her a small grin. "ba'shira, yeah?"

"that's me." she says, pulling out a chair for torian before taking her own. "i presume you're ghenkl?"

"you'd be right." ghenkl responds. she's tall, taller than ba'shira had originally assumed, and buff enough to go along with it. in the back of her mind, she figures this is why she and thek are friends. "alright, now this elusive job thek couldn't come down and give me himself."

ba'shira looks around once, then twice before handing over the datapad with the details. she's already technically trespassing (the entire crew of the mantis is, in fact, on republic soil) and there's no reason getting into unnecessary trouble because of one little slip up. her contact grins, handing the datapad back. "just like the old days then."

"i'm sure it is. you want in?" ba'shira asks. ghenkl nods adamantly. "tell thek whenever he needs me, i'm ready to jump in."

"great." ba'shira says, moving to get up from the table.

"hey, wait a sec kid." ba'shira pauses, as ghenkl gestures to sit back down. "spend sometime with an old woman for a bit, yeah? you're legal aren't you?"

"i am." ba'shira says warily. "i should really get back though."

"bah, you take after thek. always so quick to leave the party. given, corso and i were just waiting for you two. but sit down for a bit, lets talk. we're going to be working together anyways." ghenkl says, hailing down a passing server droid and ordering a round of some unpronouncable drink. once she and torian take their seats again, ghenkl asks, "how long have you known thek anyways?"

"a couple of years. least since the great hunt." she answers. her features are dulled by how her hair covers her face. scars decorate her face as she smiles, the lines under her eyes crinkling. ba'shira wonders how old she is. "why?"

"just curious. wondering why he wouldn't come down and see me himself, but that's none of my business." ghenkl says sarcastically. "it's been so long since i saw him last."

"i'm sure he had something else to attend to, captain." corso says. he has an accent that ba'shira typically associates with backwater planets. she wonders where he's from. "'sure he'd be here if he could be."

she's also curious whether she should tell the smuggler that no, theksevoy had nothing better to be doing today. but, he had promised mako he'd take a day off and spend it with her, so she figures he did have something important to be doing. "he'd be here if he could."

"good to know. alright, i asked you one thing. got any questions for me?" ghenkl quizzes.

"how do you know theksevoy?" ba'shira asks, curious. it doesn't seem like the two of them would be good friends exactly, especially hearing that ghenkl is allied with the republic for the time being.

"we were lovers for a period of time. partners in mostly general crime now." she says lazily. the droid rolls back over to their table with drinks in it's metal claws, placing all four down on the table before rolling away again. "you drink, kid?"

"i'm not a kid." she feels like she's had this conversation with her boyfriend before when the words leave her mouth, but doesn't overthink it too much. "and not really."

"really?" she cocks an eyebrow like she doesn't believe her, turning her gaze to torian, who looks more bored than anything. "eh, suit yourself. who's this kid?"

"still, not a kid." ba'shira answers before torian can cut her off.

"ya'll look younger than you should be, alright?" ghenkl shrugs, sipping on her glass of alcohol. "too young to be involved in a war."

"torian cadera." her boyfriend answers before ba'shira can give a retort, "we're not kids."

"hey, didn't mean any offense." she says.

"how old are you?" ba'shira questions, crossing her arms over her breast plate. "calling us kids."

"thirty three." ghenkl throws back her cup, putting it back down on the table. "i'll be thirty four in a couple of months, why?"

ba'shira admittedly had not believed the smuggler would be that old. she'd assumed there had only been a few years seperating them, not nearly a decade. ghenkl definitely didn't look that old either. "what about him?"

"who me? twenty-six." corso answers. damn. he's still older than both of them. both she and torian were only twenty-two (torian was turning twenty-three soon), making them both really the youngest.

it's silent for a while longer before ba'shira really does make the motion to leave. "it's late, i think torian and i are just gonna go."

"alright then. don't be a stranger." the zabrak woman responds. "hope to see you around!"

ba'shira doesn't wave back. she's not scared of her, how much damage can she do to her, but rather wary. something she typically isn't of anyone. but, she's working so closely with them now, ba'shira can't help but be cautious.

"don't be too afraid." torian says just before they step back into the hangar, lacing his fingers into hers.

"i never am." she says, turning to face him. "don't worry too much about me, cyare."

"of course, shira." he responds, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she smiles, but not before pressing her lips to his.

[crqstalite]

drabble, stolen moments.[torian && ba’shira]

character song: breathin, ariana grande

character file: ba'shira varnek, mandalore's champion

-

out of context. that's how ba'shira likes her jokes and quips, and mako and torian take them as they come.

well, usually.

things are getting a little too, well, sparse. gault had been gone for a bit (two days at most, but without a new scheme she had nothing better to be doing) and blizz was always constructing something, but he didn't make for good conversation (she loved the jawa, but he spoke with the grammar of a three year old). that left her slicer ex-girlfriend turned best friend, and her fiance.

now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard anything from the pair in a while.

"damn!" mako's voice whined from the communal area of the ship. peeking her head out from her room and tousling her hair (she'd been trying to nap for the last couple of hours, but without her fiance to sooth her overactive energy and it being in the middle of the afternoon, it didn't end well), she smiled. the two must've been playing sabacc again. not unusual, but considering both of them had yet to beat her or gault, it was kind of cute watching them trying to outdo each other. mako hadn't yet been able to really get the game, nor could torian on worse rounds, but both had improved since she'd met them. "could you go easy on me for once, torian?"

"you asked me not to." he responded as she padded towards the sound. "specifically, at the beginning of the game."

leaning against the door frame, mako dropped her head into her hands as torian chuckled. that was her mako, never backing down from a challenge until she lost. evident when she'd played for the first time against all four of them, her ex-girlfriend was absolutely adorable.

"boss! blizz think mako not win." blizz said excitedly as he came up behind her, holding some sort of metal contraption. "blizz make present for mako!"

"sure she'd love it." ba'shira smiled in response, as the jawa rushed forward to shove the thing into mako's hands once she realized they were there, and torian gave her a soft grin, before it dips into one of confusion. he gets up to stand next to her as mako and blizz retreat to the cockpit with his newest invention (mako had a habit of improving them, and blizz often sat by and watched. ba'shira found it cute, how mako treated blizz as a little brother of a sort). "what?"

"what's in your hair, cyare?" he asks as she tries to figure what he's talking about, reaching up to touch it himself. "don't think i've ever seen you with your hair back. it's a good look on you."

"oh." she says before she smiles herself. "blizz made me a hairband a while back. didn't realize it was a problem that needed fixing."

"i think it's cute." she's glad in this moment she's not as pale as he is, because heat rushes to her cheeks. it's not unusual that he compliments her (it happens all too often, all because she's bad at reciprocating it), but she has no answer for him as she turns away from him for just a moment. damn blizz's headband for not allowing her to hide behind what little hair she had anymore. "sorry, still getting used to...all this." he says, blushing himself.

she could say the same. ba'shira was only 19, turning 20 in the next couple of months. it wasn't pretty, but she had been with other men before hand, one long before she was legal. nothing had ever gone as far as she'd gone with torian, but it was unsettling to think about. drinking before the legal age? maybe not so great, but the way men would have their hands on her young body at only the age of 14...it still made her shiver all these years later. "it's not a problem, cyare. sometimes i just don't know what to say, is all."

"'course, 'shira." she turns back to him as smiles back, crossing her arms and listening to mako and blizz's conversation. it's an awkward silence for a moment before they seem to have the same idea, as he leans down to kiss her and she has to step up on her toes for a moment. as awkward as it is, it's not like their first. one of her hands creeps up to meet his cheek before they pull away, pressing their foreheads against each others'. these moments aren't far and few in between, in fact she takes them just as often as she can without being around the others, but there's something girlish running through her veins as she stifles a giggle staring into those cerulean blue eyes of his. she didn't expect to wait this long for a permanent lover, but the mandalorian boy she'd picked up on taris...well she would wait forever for him. "i love you, cya'rika."

"love you too." she says, as she's about to go in for another kiss when she hears a bag hit the floor, jolting out of torian's grasp, embarassed to be caught in such a manner.

"what, no welcome home?" gault asks, as the devaronian pauses before heading right back the way he came she assumes. "alright kids, don't do anything i wouldn't do, which given, is everything."

she has half a mind to throw a sabacc dice at him (she'd done that once back before skadge had run off, and mako complimented her on her deadeye aim after leaving a nasty scar on the jackass of a temporary teammate) before he ducks his head out and bounds down the stairs. she stands stoically for a moment before torian takes her hand in his, visibly a bit shaken. "well, i guess gault is back."

"seems that way." she says, squeezing his hand in hers. "what do you say? a night in?"

"didn't you just wake up?" he asks as she pulls him gently back towards her quarters.

"how often do i actually sleep? cyare, i'd rather sleep next to you than by myself." which of course, was only partially true. there was still some lingering exhaustion that just would not escape her, but she was looking for a good excuse to spend some quality time with torian. "coming?"