#blasters swtor

[ashnoxblackstar]

Artist Credit: @hanonaut-blog

SWTOR: Liberation

Volume II: (3640 BBY) Corellia, a key Republic world of strategic value, has fallen to the Sith Empire after a deceptive and swift offensive. Now war-torn and ruled by an authoritarian regime, the few remaining Republic forces fight desperately to push the invaders back. The turning point may just reside in Axial Park – a sprawling section of Coronet City filled with nature-filled trails, escaped beasts, and the backbone of the Imperial war machine. A win for either side could decide the balance of power in the war effort across the Galaxy. Diving bow-first into battle, the crew of Ascension and the elite soldiers Tempest Squad of head to the front to make the difference. Fighting through withering Imperial fire and constantly shifting battle lines, it will take everything they have to survive. And when a Sith lord makes a dangerous and enticing proposal, it leaves Jae Doraan and Ashnox Blackstar on opposite sides…

Full work over on AO3! Find it here.

[gillymugs]

Chiss Oc Portrait

Drew someone’s chiss SWTOR oc

[ebitenpura]

I sort of intended to use this as a fic cover eventually, but it makes a pretty great standalone meme. biased cipher feelings towards our watcher....

[swtechspecs]

Sith Empire Mark VI Supremacy-Class Starfighter

Source: The Old Republic Encyclopedia (Dorling Kindersley, 2012)

[cinlat]

Sadly I do not have this shot with the black hair, this is an ancient screenshot, but will always be my favorite weapons one.

[lanabenikosdoormat]

where are my star forge server players at? i wanna friend you all please god drop your toons lemme add y’all to my friends list 🙏🏻

[tiredassmage]

every day i play this fucker's story is a day i want to fucking bite him for being a shithead

[sheyshen]

I like the fact that if you do the date night with arcann and you aren't a jedi/sith he does recognize that lol

[relevant-url-incoming]

the funniest thing about the companion conversations at the end of the class stories when one of them that you didn't/couldn't romance is like "I will help teach your children" or whatever is that I'm almost always out here shipping polyamorously so like.

Elara: I will educate the kids you and Jorgan will have if you want me to!

Ven: or you can just. Have them. Have the kids with us.

[hurricanek8art]

Nightmares and Memories: a Legacy of the Sith one-shot

In which I am apparently posting fic now? I DON'T KNOW. I've had this drabble written since the rumors about a certain someone's return started a few months ago as a "just in case" and now it's really relevant and I'm hopped up on Celebration excitement and frustration over not being able to solve that art problem. SO FIC. I GUESS. *INTERNAL SCREAMING*

Agent Chrysali Vidoi is used to nightmares, what with all the ghosts from her past and skeletons in her closet—but some are worse than others, and this one might be the worst of them all, because he's the only one left that she's genuinely afraid of. Set somewhere around the beginning of 7.5's story. Spoilers for that and some of 7.6 obviously abound. Sticking most of it under a read more because of that, and also because I'm slightly terrified and it's less of a jumpscare when I open the SWTOR tag. 🙃

...I need some kind of divider graphic for summaries for if when i post more writing instead of just a line of these (~~~) thingies i forgot what they're called...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This wasn't right.

She was on the deck of his flagship. The Eradicators were outside the viewport. This wasn't right. This was all space flotsam.

This wasn't right.

This.

Wasn't.

Right.

"Hello, Agent."

Chills went down her spine. The air flew out of her lungs. She turned, trying to draw her blades, her blasters, something, but it was too late. In a heartbeat, she was in the air though nothing was touching her, pinned to the bulkhead like an insect. She couldn't struggle. She couldn't even move.

"It's been a long time," he said, unreadable behind the featureless mask. His hands were folded behind his back, she could feel his eyes upon her. Sweat rolled down her face. Tears poured from her eyes. Don't, please don't, don't look at me, don't—

"You have changed in our years apart. Grown stronger, I think. You have something to lose now, something to fight for. It's emboldened you. Made you even more dangerous."

No, please, no, no—

"Oh, do not concern yourself with that. I do not come seeking revenge," he said coolly, taking a few steps forward. The pressure in her lungs, the fear in her mind, increased with every micrometer. "At least, not yet. Not now. I wanted to see how you've changed before I make my move."

Her heart pounded in her chest, in her throat, in her ears, but still she was trapped, and he grew ever closer, faces centimeters apart now.

"I have waited all this time. Planned. Strategized. Looking for the perfect moment to finally strike. I believe that time grows close now. So close I can almost taste it. I am coming, Agent. I shall return."

Her voice struggled to leave her throat. "Why... tell... me?"

"I chose you all that time ago, did I not? You and I are alike. Made unique from our peers. Alone in the galaxy because of it." His mask was almost touching her face, it was so close. She couldn't breathe. "You defied my offer before. But I am generous. I will extend the offer to stand by my side once more, and once more only. I trust you to make the correct decision, when the time comes. Goodbye, Agent. Until we meet again..."

Chrysali's entire body shuddered and jerked as she awoke, gasping for air. Strands of hair stuck to her face with sweat, loose pajamas clinging to her skin, and her heart hammered and thudded against her ribs. Chills went up and down her bare arms, the soft red light of the cybernetic nodes studded along her arms and shoulders steadily blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dark in the bedroom, and awareness of where she actually was began to sink in. She was safe, she was home, he wasn't here—

"Chrys?" Theron mumbled sleepily. He must've been woken up when she sat up so suddenly and shifted his arm around her. "Everything okay?"

She fought to steady her breathing, still searching the room. "I—the flagship, the Eradicators—Jadus, he was there, he spoke to me—"

He groggily sat up with her, awake but not quite alert. "What do you mean?"

"He was—was talking about returning. He wants me to serve him again. I can't—I won't—I—"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," Theron said quietly. He put an arm around her, rubbing her arm soothingly. "Sounds like another bad nightmare. You've had these before."

"This one was so real," Chrysali breathed, panting slightly.

"But it's gone now," Theron soothed. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep, we've got a busy day tomorrow." He glanced at the chrono on the opposite wall and groaned softly as he laid back down. "Today. We have a busy day today. In about five hours."

Right. They were still tracking Shae, however poorly that was going. And Chrysali was still putting feelers out with her old network to dig up more dirt on Heta Kol, see if they could tackle that part of the problem from a different direction. Lots to do.

"The human cost is acceptable. The only alternative is to let Jadus escape—and do worse down the line."

"The human cost isn't acceptable to me!"

She shuddered at the old memories, trying to push them away. It was so long ago now. And Lana had tracked Jadus briefly during the Zildrog incident, he was somewhere in the Unknown Regions, minding his business on his own little planetoid. He wasn't an active threat. They were okay. They were safe. She was safe. Theron was safe.

Chrysali settled back in, head in its usual spot on Theron's chest so she could listen to his heart, hand rested against his ribs and over the scar tissue from Nathema. Theron was already back asleep, arm instinctively back around her and settled just right so he could feel her breathing.

They were safe.

It was just a nightmare.

It had to be.

Slowly, uneasily, Chrysali drifted off back to sleep

[ashnoxblackstar]

Artist Credit: Kim Sokol / @kimsokol (Commissioned)

SWTOR: Ascension Volume I (3643-3642 BBY): A Cold War between the Galactic Republic and Sith Empire simmers across the Galaxy. Proxy wars, assassinations, and subterfuge allow for a false peace that keeps the two superpowers from full blown war. In the midst of these civil wars and independent factions, both sides jockey to expand their influence in anticipation of what may be soon to come. Meanwhile, Captain Jae Doraan and her Jedi companion Ashnox Blackstar travel the Galaxy while carrying out missions for the enigmatic Sixth Line – caught up in a series of skirmishes with connections too sinister to be a coincidence. As things continue to heat up, the pair will have to use all their resources if they hope to confront the real mastermind and a plot to cripple the Republic for good…

Full Fic on AO3 Here

[callmeaiden]

THE LAST PIECE - a SWTOR story

Three years after the Zakuul Invasion, Jedi Knight and the Barsen'thor, Zsira Nazo, is hiding from Emperor Arcann's forces. Unexpectedly, she receives a message from a person she wasn't sure she'd ever hear from again.

She stepped out of the prom. “What a strange place,” she thought, as she saw the 'landscape' of Asylum. A haven for the escapees from Zakuul, and yet so close to it. 

Zsira, being high-placed in the Zakuul Most Wanted ranking, should not have even been taking the risk. Yet, here she was. She never imagined it would be so easy to literally abandon everything after just one message from her. Three years since they last talked, three years since the Eternal Empire Invasion, and Zsira still thought about her, wondering what she had been doing. Is she safe? Is she planning something? Did she give up? As it turned out, the first option was correct. Zsira should have never doubted.

She started walking towards the meeting point. Hood on the head, mask on the face, Zsira hoped that nobody would recognise her. Asylum might be a safe place, but one can never be too safe. 

She had her lightsaber hidden in the bag, with only a small blaster hooked on her belt. It was a gift from her brother, but Zsira was not very good at shooting, so she had hoped for this day to be calm.

‘I need you, Zsira; there is no one else I would ask for this.’

Zsira wondered if it was real. If there really was not anybody else. She could think about a few other people. 

She came to the meeting point but did not see anybody unusual. Everybody looked the same, refugees, gangsters, not a soul to really trust. Then she felt it, that presence in the Force. Lana.

Zsira turned around. She saw her, similarly hidden under a hood and a mask. They looked at each other for a few seconds, silently not believing that it was happening. Then Lana moved her arm and gestured towards some narrow street. Zsira followed her there, and Lana opened a door and entered an empty room. Zsira did the same.

They uncovered their faces.

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” said Lana.

“Well, I did,” Zsira responded, “you said, you are planning something. That you want to save Ikar."

“So you don’t believe he is dead?”

“No. Though I had my doubts,” she said, “but I do believe that is not the only thing on your mind.”

Lana chuckled, “You know my mind well.”

Zsira smiled, and for the first time in three years looked Lana Beniko in the eyes. Lana did the same.

Silence was surrounding them. The last time they were looking at each other like this was on Ziost. Frowns on their faces. Lightsabers in hands. And the clear difference between them, that Zsira always tried to ignore. A Jedi and a Sith. There would always be something between.

Zsira turned her gaze on the floor, “So what are you planning?” she asked.

“There are many people that hate the Eternal Empire. They are, of course, mostly from our part of the galaxy, but there are even some Zakuulans."

“I thought Zakuul prospers, shouldn't they be glad?”

“Maybe, but some also see what Arcann has done to us. Such is the case with Koth, who you will meet soon.”

“I understand you want to build a… rebellion?”

“Exactly.”

“You are talking about the Republic, Empire, and Zakuulans?” Zsira questioned, “Do you think it will work?”

“Haven’t it worked with Revan?”

“Yes, but it was on a smaller scale, and—”

“And we had Ikar.” Lana interrupted, “A true leader, who already killed the Emperor twice and is a legend across the whole galaxy, including Zakuul.”

“And why do you need me?” asked Zsira.

Lana looked puzzled, like she had just heard the most ridiculous thing, “You, you are Zsira Nazo, a Barsen’thor.”

“Why does it matter? I am not as strong as you think. I already lost too much to all this. And there are so many more powerful people that you could ask for help.”

“But I asked you,” said Lana, “I don’t care about power and strength, Zsira. I  need  you.”

“But why?” asked Zsira, confused. “If you need help in rebelling and rescuing Ikar, you could ask Darth Imperius or Lady Wrath. They are much more capable than me.”

“Why won’t you believe that you are needed?”

“Because I gave up!” Zsira exclaimed, sitting down on the floor, “I do not know why I even came here.”

Lana looked at her, Zsira thought she would see disappointment on her face. But Lana was not disappointed, she was shocked. She sat down next to Zsira.

“It doesn’t change anything for me.” Lana said, “I still want you here.”

“Do you think about Ziost sometimes?” Zsira asked.

“What?”

“That was the only thing on my mind while I was getting here,” Zsira continued, “It should not be so heavy for me, should it? It seems like the whole world just forgot about it. I didn’t. I remember everything from that day. Every person I could not help. Every scream. Every kill. The planet — dead, after everything we have done to help. And I remember you there,” she looked at Lana, “How I disagreed with you, and how I was the first to pull out the lightsaber. And how it all just does not make any sense.”

“You are right,” said Lana, “it does not. And it was not your fault.”

“I know. But my mind sometimes disagrees with me.”

“Then I will remind you that you are right, every single day,” Lana responded, “You are extraordinary, Zsira. You were always like that for me. And I know that I will not be able to achieve anything without you. You are the most important piece; you are the one I need.

Zsira put her head on Lana’s shoulder. And so they sat like this for a while. And when they finally got up, Zsira did not ask any questions, and Lana did not give any answers. They just knew. Zsira might have given up, but she was still Zsira, and Lana got the last piece, her favourite one.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 10 -- Rivals

SWTOR

Time: Shortly after Chapter 3, 13 ATC (3640 BBY)

~~

“You know, we were friends, once!”  Eva Corolastor raised her blaster toward the sky, elbow bent.

She and Vaz Traniff whirled around, backs to each other and began to count off the necessary steps.

Akaavi Spar silently kept track of both sets of steps.  She was the referee here. 

“We were partners on a heist,” Vaz corrected her.  “You were a good one.  Until I realized the split wasn’t so even.”

“I have a mighty fine eye for expensive things.  Sorry your talents lie elsewhere…”  Eva couldn’t stop the impulse.  “I hope.”

Out of the corner of Eva’s eye, she saw Risha facepalm.  Corso and Guss hunched over, giggling. 

Bowdaar paced.  He did not like Little Girl taking risks that his life debt couldn’t safeguard. 

The Cathar growled loud enough for Eva to hear him, even at fifteen paces.  “I need to duel you.  My reputation depends on it  – it’s one thing to get scammed by some punk.  It’s another to lose out to the person that became the kriffing queen of the underworld.  I’m no stepping stone!”

“Come work for me.  You and Combo can get a decent piece of the action –”

“I really might like that better than a shoot-out!”  Combo’s nervous voice piped up from the sidelines.

“Let’s just get this done.  Ok, 15.  Now what, Spar?”

Eva finished her 15th pace. 

“On my count of 3 – turn and fire.”

“Are we turning on 3 or shooting on 3?”

“Or are we waiting til 3, then turning?’

Akaavi huffed.  “I will say 3.  Then you will turn around and then you will fire.”

Eva let her free hand drop, let her limbs loosen up, let her head hang. 

“1.”

Dammit, she didn’t want to kill him.

“2.”

But if this was about rep – well, getting spaced while dressed as the Voidhound was the worst way to go.  So it had to be him.

“6!” 

The tension broke with Guss’s outburst.  Eva didn’t look but she did lift her chin up to laugh, all the while waiting for Akaavi to restart the count (and Bowdaar to firmly clamp a hand over Guss’s mouth.”

“1.”

Silence.

“2.”

Silence

“3!”

In a whirl of greatcoat and large hat, Eva spun, seeking that furry, sizeable center of mass.  Once she saw her target.

ZAP

ZAP

Eva didn’t flinch as her rival’s bolt seared past her ear.  It did sting a little that he had shot to kill.

But Eva had shot to win, and she saw her bolt knock Vaz right off his feet. 

A cheer went up from her sideline as she holstered her blaster.  Immediately, the Voidhound stalked over to inspect… her kill?  That was a good question.

A groan erupted as the Voidhound cast a shadow over Vaz.  “You got me.”

“How bad?”

Vaz carefully plucked his burnt shirt away from  ---

Not a wound.

“I had beskar vest fitted.”

Eva put her hands on the hips.  “And you didn’t tell me?”

“You got all that blastweave,” Vaz complained.

“So you aimed at my head.”

“The hat’s all armored up too.  I can see that.”

He wasn’t wrong.  “So, I gave you the opportunity to save your rep, and I think you did that.”

Vaz pushed himself into a sitting position, cringing all the way as Combo finally rushed over.  “I lost.”

“You took a shot from the Voidhound and lived,” Akaavi stated the obvious, which sounded way cooler when it came from her.  “But you did lose.”

“The question is what do I get.”  At Vaz’s objection, Eva reminded him, “I don’t get the same ‘nice try’ you do.  I think I want something more….touchable.”

Vaz’s eyes lit up.

“I think you mean ‘tangible,’” Risha butted in. In one swift move, she stooped just low enough to grab Vaz’s beskar vest.  “I can alter this to fit you.”

Eva paused.  “I can work with that.”  She offered her hand to Vaz.  “And you can still work with me.”

And that’s how Eva got her first beskar vest and her friend back.

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[seventh-line]

Swtor: Who Gives the Best (and Worst) Gifts

The best gift-givers:

Kira Carsen

Felix Iresso

Risha

Akaavi Spar

Vette

Malavai Quinn (He just knows EXACTLY what to get.)

Ashara Zavros

Mako

Torian Cadera

Vector Hyllus (His gifts are kind of weird, but sometimes end up being practical. Mostly they're just sweet momentos and keepsakes from the places you've been.)

Raina Temple

Lana Beniko

Koth Vortena (Idk why but I just feel like this guy KNOWS how to shop and exactly what to get.)

The worst gift-givers:

Nadia Grell (She's trying so hard.)

Corso Riggs (Gave you a blaster/explosive/weapon for the 50th time.)

Aric Jorgan

Elara Dorne (Genuinely thinks her gifts are great and useful. They unfortunately aren't.)

Jaesa Willsaam (Light)

Jaesa Willsaam (Dark)

Theron Shan

Doesn't even bother:

Scourge

Zenith

Andronikos Revel (Honestly it might be he just forgets to sometimes.)

Kaliyo Djannis (She also might even have the gall to expect something from you, but wouldn't care too much otherwise.)

Arcann (Unless you can pressure him to, he doesn't see the point, and reserves gifts for very special occasions.)

The only gift you need is him:

Doc (Has absolutely no idea what to get you, and all the audacity.)

Khem Val

Lol I started this before Christmas to try and get it done before then. Anyways, as I am creatively bankrupt, send me ideas! Of any kind!

[serenxanthe]

The Trooper: A SWTOR Story

Introducing my Trooper. Here she is in a cameo as part of Seren's Nar Shaddaa Jedi Knight story-arc.

On Nar Shaddaa, Havoc Squad CO Ninme Heusos and her SIS contact Jonas Balkar are having some fun when they get caught up in the Powerguard Crisis and cross paths with a certain Jedi Knight.

Ninme pulled on her boots and checked her spare energy packs were still hooked securely to her tactical belt. Jonas leant down to kiss her cheek, and she let him, smiling. They both knew that this was casual; that the sexual attraction between them would never develop into anything deeper, but she appreciated his politely affectionate gallantry anyway. Gestures like that meant neither of them felt used, even if they were both using the other to let off steam, to relax, even if only for a few hours.

She ran her fingers through her practical bob, ensuring it was tidy, then picked up her assault cannon, ready to secure it into its holster on her back. Without warning, there was a terrible grinding, screeching noise at the front door of the allegedly secure SIS apartment, and almost before Ninme had time to ready her weapon, the door was gone, wrenched out of the wall by the huge barely human looking cyborgs standing there, their assault rifles pointed straight at her and Jonas.

This was what Ninme was trained for, and she didn’t even need a moment to think before she’d thrown a grenade at the intruders then begun laying down what should have been a crippling round of boltstorm. Her eyes widened as the cyborgs kept coming, barely seeming damaged by her most powerful attack. Jonas was getting shots off too, of course, but she wouldn’t even expect his simple blaster rounds to do all that much against these behemoths. 

As Ninme tried a demolition round, another man, she assumed a fellow SIS Agent of Jonas’, emerged from the apartment’s other bedroom, and started to fire at the cyborgs with his twin blasters. Ninme tried not to notice that he was stark naked, and he certainly wasn’t letting it affect him; his shots on what should have been the cyborgs’ vitals unusually accurate, possibly due to the man’s own cranial implants.

As Ninme frantically replenished her weapon with energy, another woman now emerged from the naked Agent’s room. She had long loose hair, perfectly painted nails and face, and voluptuous curves in contrast to her slim waist and dainty hands and feet. She was barely dressed herself in a skimpy and very sheer negligee. Absolutely not suited in any way shape or form for an active combat zone. Was she some rich Senator’s daughter slumming it with a junior SIS Agent, or, given the Agent in question’s apparent lack of concern for the danger she was in, was she some kind of high-class escort? 

“Ma’am, get back inside the bedroom and take cover!” Ninme yelled.

To her relief, the woman turned away, as if she was heading back into the relative safety of the bedroom. Instead of doing so however, she held out her hands, and to Ninme’s utter shock, twin lightsabres slammed into them from across the room. The woman leapt backwards without missing a beat, igniting her green-bladed lightsabres as she soared over their heads, and executed a perfect mid-air turn, allowing her to land exactly in the centre of the group of cyborgs, knocking them backwards.

What followed was almost too fast for Ninme to follow, but she saw the woman sweep her lightsabres through the tangle of limbs and weapons making up the cyborgs’ formation, then make a series of pinpoint accurate cuts on their necks and groins, deftly avoiding the resulting sprays of arterial blood and sparking components, until all four cyborgs lay dead, or deactivated rather, on the floor of the apartment. 

The woman, the Jedi, if that’s what she was, sheathed her lightsabres and tried to clip them to the belt she wasn’t wearing. She looked down and clearly realised how she was dressed, but instead of being embarrassed by her state of near nudity, she just shrugged, transferred both sabres into her left hand, and advanced on Ninme, her right hand stretched out in greeting.

“Seren Astierred,” she said, “thanks for the help.”

Ninme shook her hand, automatically replying, “Captain Ninme Heusos,” while thinking Seren Astierred? The Hero of Tython? What the hells is she doing here? Dressed like that? Doing… whatever she’d been doing with that other Agent?

“Oh! The Havoc Squad CO? Very pleased to meet you. Like I said, thanks for the help, I was, um, busy, when the attack started, and your covering fire was invaluable.”

Ninme frowned at her. “Covering fire? That was supposed to be a devastating attack, and it usually is. What the hells are those things, anyway?”

The Jedi, Seren, smiled at her. “Don’t feel bad, they’re a new form of cyborg, powerguards, originally a Republic project believe it or not, but we were betrayed from within, and yeah,” Seren gestured to the pile of smoking bodies on the ground behind them, “this is the result.” She shrugged. “I’ve been fighting them for a few weeks now and I’ve learnt, learned, their weak spots.”

Ninme nodded. “Their necks and groins, right? Good to know.”

Seren smiled at her again. “Exactly, you’ll know next time. I’m trying to shut them down at the source, don’t worry, but it’s good to be prepared. Feel free to brief the rest of your squad given you’re special ops anyway, but General Var Suthra is pretty insistent that this whole thing stays highly classified.” She sighed. “Hopefully not to minimise his involvement in it, but… yeah.”

Ninme finally gave her a half-smile in return. “Generals, huh?” she said.

Seren laughed. “Exactly!” She turned back to the Agent from whose room she’d emerged. “Come on, Theron, we’d better get dressed.”

He put his arm around her waist as she reached the door to his room and smirked at her suggestively. “I’m pretty sure we were in the middle of something, weren’t we?” he said.

Ninme saw Jonas roll his eyes. “Dude, we have to be at work in fifteen minutes!” he reminded the other Agent.

Theron shrugged. “No problem, I only need five,��� he said.

At Seren’s giggle and Jonas’ disparaging snort, Theron’s face flushed and he opened his mouth to say something else, but then he just shrugged again and pulled Seren back into his room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Ninme turned and stared at Jonas in silence. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Thoughts?” he prompted Ninme.

Ninme considered for a moment before she said with circumspect understatement, “Seren is a very… unusual Jedi, isn’t she?”

Jonas snorted again. “Yeah, you could say that. That’s if she’s any kind of Jedi at all.”

Ninme frowned. “You saw what she can do with those lightsabres, what else would she be?” She paused and considered. “You can’t mean… don’t be ridiculous! She saved Tython from the Sith!”

“Playing the long game maybe?” Jonas suggested, then sighed. “Yeah, doesn’t make much sense, I know.”

“Have you spoken to Theron about it?” Ninme asked him, “I mean, are you close, or just roommates?”

“Theron doesn’t do close, but we’re friends I guess. And yeah, I’ve tried, and he even seems receptive when they’re apart. He’s not stupid, when he’s thinking with his actual brain he knows there’s something off about her. But when they’re together…” Jonas gestured at the bedroom door. “And it’s not just sex. He’s… dazzled by her. Can’t see straight. Not that I blame him. I mean, did you see her?”

“Are you dazzled by her too, then?” Ninme asked him, slightly piqued.

Jonas laughed and said, “hey, I might think that a vorn-tiger is beautiful, but I have no desire to pet one!” He stepped forward and went to put his arm around Ninme’s shoulders.

She stepped out of his reach. “Uh huh. And what am I, if she’s a vorn-tiger?”

Jonas looked nervous. “I don’t know!” He ran his hand through his hair. “A… loth-cat maybe?”

Wow. A loth-cat. Delightful. Ninme rolled her eyes and strapped her assault-cannon onto her back. “I’ll leave you to clean up this mess.” She gestured at the dead cyborgs. “See you around, Jonas.”

Later, on board The Thunderclap, Ninme and Jorgan were cleaning and checking their weapons in companionable silence. Ninme looked sideways at him. “Aric,” she started, “if you were going to compare me to a cat, what kind would you pick?”

“A cat? Are you serious, Sir? Just because I’m a Cathar? Do humans really think that we categorise people in terms of cats?!”  

“It’s nothing to do with that! I hadn't even thought of it that way! It’s just a thing! Somebody else compared me to a certain type of cat, and I’m just curious to see if you agree?”

Jorgan huffed, but then said, “fine. Go on then. What type of cat? I’ll tell you if I agree.”

Ninme shook her head. “I want you to think about it yourself and give me your answer.”

“Is that an order?” Jorgan asked sarcastically, but looked at her consideringly anyway. After a while his face flushed, visible even through his short fur, and he looked away from her and resumed cleaning his sniper-rifle.

“Vorn-tiger,” he mumbled into his laser-sight.

“I’m sorry?” Ninme asked.

“Vorn. Tiger.” Jorgan said loudly, sounding irritated. Or embarrassed. It was hard to tell with him.

Ninme suppressed her amusement. “And, um, would you pet one?”

“WHAT?” Jorgan asked her, shocked.

“I didn’t mean me,” Ninme reassured him hastily, horrified at herself. “I meant, y’know, an actual vorn-tiger! Obviously!”

“Oh!” Jorgan said, “well, good. Obviously good.”

He was blushing even more furiously now. “Er, sure, if it was tame, or I guess bonded to me somehow.”

Ninme smiled. “Good to know,” she said.

[lanabenikosdoormat]

JED MASTERPOST

Fast on his feet with an even sharper mind, Jed worked as a cipher agent for the Galactic Empire. Under the alias Cipher Nine - he was a prodigal secret weapon for the Empire's goals. As time passed, so did the stakes. When Imperial Intelligence disbanded, Jed found himself pursuing more independent ventures, outsourcing his work to broader horizons. He garnered quite a lofty reputation.

Through his extraordinary acts, Jed rose through the ranks, becoming a leading figure in the war that later broke out between the two superpowers. He would eventually become known as the Outlander and later, The Alliance Commander and serves as my main OC, not just for SWTOR - but my artist career as a whole.

MOST OF THIS IS PULLED DIRECTLY FROM HIS TOYHOUSE, WHICH CAN BE FOUND BELOW AND IS MORE COMPREHESIVE

BIO BELOW THE CUT!

Overview:

Full Name: Jedidiah Solaris

Alias: Cipher Nine, Commander Solaris, The Outlander, "The Ginger" (belovingly by friends)

Age: 35 around Onslaught

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay, Biromantic

Mental Conditions: OCD, PTSD

Birthday: March 20th, 11 BTC

Birthplace: Sacorria,  Corellian Sector

Species/Race: Human - Augmented with cybernetics

Occupation: Alliance Commander

Status: Engaged (Theron Shan)

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Design:

Height: 6'0

Weight: 168 lbs

Body Type: Athletic, inverted triangle

Eye Color: Medium Brown (right eye is a prosthetic and is red)

Cybernetics: Mostly internal but there are two peaking out from the side of his head, just above the top of his ears.

Features: High cheekbones, scar through right eyebrow, clean shaven, well groomed, handsome. Personal hygiene is a high priority.

Markings: Various scars, faint freckles in summer seasons, bruised knuckles

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Relationships:

Family: Deceased. KIA on Sacorria during the skirmish.

Love Interests: Hunter ✞ (Enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits type situationship), Theron Shan (Fiancé)

Friends/Allies: Closest friend is Lana Beniko. Additionally close with various others including Vector Hyllus, Koth Vortena, Arcann Tiral and the Them Group (OC group consisting of four of my irl friends ocs and my own sith warrior as follows: Verity Dante, Exxus Gun, LIX, and Obi-Two)

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Personality:

He is both practical and visionary as well as a staunch realist. He is imaginative and eloquent, able to problem solve and get himself and his team out of tight situations.

As a leader, he is disciplined and thorough, leaving no stone unturned. Jed is strongly independent and is opposed to authority that he doesn't respect.

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Background (pre-imp agent campaign and expacs):

As a young child, Jedidiah came from a tiny community of modest agriculturalists. For the first seven years of his life, he lived fair off. However, war struck and their little slice of the galaxy was caught in the crossfire. Jed was struck by blaster fire, directly in his right side of his skull. The wound was lethal and desperately his mother took a final stand to carry him to the Imperial outpost stationed on the planet. Because of his late uncle's contributions to the Empire, Jed was able to be taken into Imperial custody on one condition: he was never to return home again.

For the next 12 or so years, Jed was stationed on Ziost and Dromound Kaas interchangeably as he completed his initiation and mandatory military training. His superiors noticed he had a natural affinity for sneaking around in the shadows, as well as persuasion and ruthlessness. As such, at the age of just 14, he was transferred to the Imperial Intelligence division where he would begin training as an agent of the Empire.

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Other Information:

Likes:

Killing Time

Sharpshooting

Revenge

Physical Touch

Dislikes:

Sucking Up

Unwarranted violence

The Sith

Helplessness

Hobbies:

Dejarik

Target Practice

Reading

Binge watching holo-dramas

Gambling

Social Drinking

Habits: Finger flexing, Pacing

Trivia:

He is ambidextrous, and uses a variety of different weapons depending on the given scenario.

Jed is excellent with kids and animals, he gets very soft and sweet and knows just what to say to them, especially in times of distress.

His favorite color used to be navy, and he'd wear it a lot in his downtime. However, these days its the red color of Theron's jacket as seeing it always reminds Jed of him.