#corellia culture

[archeo-starwars]

[magnetarbeam]

A while back, I was bitching about Star Wars wives always taking their husbands' last names, and how I wish there would be different marriage traditions established for various galactic cultures.

I haven't thought this through too much, but I feel like Corellians are a lot more casual about it than we are.

Like, a Corellian marriage isn't specifically the result of a committed romance and a declaration that you intend to spend the rest of your life together and maybe have kids. It can be that, but I can also kind of picture a lot more marriages of convenience and even just... maybe doing it in recognition of having gone through immense hardship, of some sort, together?

Getting married on Corellia wouldn't usually have a big ceremony.

Thinking about Wedge and Iella and Corran and Mirax in this context.

[queerest-beetle]

(lying) im so normal about world building (:

[celinamarniss]

“Songs of lovers lost or left behind and the intoxicants consumed to forget them were woven into the fabric of every culture built around spacefaring and alcohol production. Corellia had a million such madrigals; Fen knew half of them, and had lived the other half. When she’d been a small, dirty-faced child, singing the off-color lyrics in a busy spaceport was a sure way to earn a few extra credits or even a hot meal. Now, thirty-some years later, she sang them when she was nervous, excited, or drunk.”

—“Simple Tricks” by Chris Cassidy and Tish Pahl, Tales From the New Republic

Space shanties are canon in legends!

[yoitsjay]

Sparks of Freedom

Pairings: The Bad Batch (minus echo) x Male Mando reader

Summary: you had been exiled from your clan for just wanting to be free. But on Corellia you quickly found where and who you belonged with.

Warnings: cannon typical violence

Word count: 2,548

When the Mandalorian conflict first began, a lot of people were upset. Mandalore was always a different planet and it still is, however the new Dutchess sparked a lot of conflict. Many mandalorians wanted to embrace their old culture and fighting lifestyle, so many mandalorians left and built up their clans on other outer rim planets. Minus death watch which stayed close to Mandalore, plotting some revolution from what you last heard.

You were the son of your clan’s chief and leader, her only child and therefore heir to the Chief’s title. You however didn’t want the responsibility of leadership. You never did. Your father, before he died, always said you had a wild spirit, not one to be tamed by that of titles or romance. Your mother always tried to snuff that flame out of you… until you finally had enough.

“Enough of these petty arguments buir! Pick someone else to take leadership over this clan! There are many capable soldiers who would lead these people right! I would not. I’m reckless and all I want is to be free and travel where I want to! So I'm leaving and you can't kriffing stop me!” You shouted at your mother whilst gathering your weapons and civvy clothes into a large bag. You had a ship luckily enough for you, albeit a bit busted and in dire need of repairs…

Your mother let out a growl as she bawled her hands into fists, before taking a deep breath, turning her head away for a moment. “You know what? you're right. You wouldn’t make a good leader. So go ahead, leave. but don’t you dare show your face back here Y/n, you are exiled!” She shouted, storming away just as you turned to look at her, shock lacing your features.

You sucked in a deep breath before placing your helmet over your head. Your clans colors were elegant, black gold and purple details painted across your armor… but now you knew you couldn’t wear it…

you finished packing as quickly as you could manage, throwing your stuff in your bag before walking out of what was once your quarters. You could tell your fellow clan members- well they weren't your clan members anymore because of your stubborn mother… You could tell that the other Mandalorians were staring, having heard your argument and then your exile. Whispers could also be heard, but you just stared straight ahead, walking out to your ship.

You climbed inside, throwing your bag somewhere random as you went up to the cockpit, checking the important systems. You glanced out the window, staring down at your home. With another sigh you started to lift off, turning your ship so it was facing away as you flew it into the sky and up through the atmosphere.

You remembered when you were first learning how to fly, your father was with you in the co-pilot's seat, instructing you how to turn and speed up or slow down and make fighting maneuvers… You pressed a few buttons, priming your ship for hyper space after selecting some random planet off the holo map… well it wasnt that random, you knew this place was a good hub for trade and ship maintenance, and probably bounty work too, which you would have to begin doing…

You plotted a course for Corellia, a strong feeling in your gut that seemed to guide you there, and maybe it was for bounty work, or for good parts to fix your ship… or the people you’d meet. However, you tried not to dwell on the what if’s of your situation and you jumped into hyperspace. You leaned back into your seat, removing your helmet as you set it on the co-pilot's seat, hesitating for a moment before placing it down and standing up. Might as well do some repairs while you were waiting, you did have some time after all…

-

Urgent alarms blaring ripped you from your focus underneath a wiring panel and your ship shook violently as you were ripped from hyperspace. You quickly ran to the pilot's seat, grabbing the controls as you swerved to avoid an incoming republic freighter. You cursed under your breath, patching through your coms to the lead ship which was already flagging you. “Unidentified ship please slow your course or we will have to slow you ourselves.” One of the pilots said, and you huffed. “I'm trying my best here but my ship's controls just crashed on me, I can't stop my course, I'm gonna need an aided landing here.” You replied, sending your necessary codes to actually get onto the planet. After a few moments some more fighter ships flanked you, and started aiding you with the landing sequence as they guided you on world and to one of the larger space ports.

“We’ve got you shatter 1, prepare for a bumpy landing.” one of the pilots announced after receiving your codes and ship name. With their aid you successfully crash landed in one of the docking bays, one of your landing legs having snapped which caused half your ship to tilt to the side. But that was a worry for another time as the republic fighters commed you again. “get your ship fixed shatter 1, you need it.” The pilot teased before the transmition ended.

You let out a slight chuckle before gathering your things, slinging your rifle across your back as you fastened your helmet over your head, grabbing your credit pouch from your duffel bag, tying it to the front of your belt by your blaster and a couple knives you had as well. You made your way off your ship, taking a loot at the damage.

The engines in the back were smoking pretty hardcore, and you'd need to replace the hyper drive and many other necessary components. You shook your head, knowing how many credits that was going to cost you… you were better off buying a new ship.

One of the mechanics followed by their droids walked out and you sighed, turning to look at them as you gave them about 10,000 credits out of the 50,000 you had. “Fix what you can with that.” You muttered before walking past them and out of the port. You could see hundreds of people already, having just set one foot out of the spaceport. There were stalls and shops further in selling knockoff trinkets or genuine items, however none of this caught your eye.

You continued walking, keeping one hand firmly on your pouch of credits, keeping your items close so that no ruffian would dare steal or pickpocket you. As you continued on you heard many vendors shouting about what they sold, whether it was information, or food.

You kept your eyes and ears open, searching for anything that resembled a bounty hunter guild, or a bar that had bounty stations… Eventually your search led you to this one place, which was definitely a shit hole with sleezebags and drunkards hanging off the arms of poor women who just wanted to be left alone…

However, the minute you stepped foot in the bar it went silent, and all heads turned to you, staring at your armor especially. Seeing an armored Mandalorian outside of Mandalore was a rare thing, especially with the duchess preaching pacifism.

You walked forward, the sound of your boots mixed with the clanking of your metal armor filling the area as you reached the bartender. “I’m looking for a bounty stand.” You spoke simply, your helmet having deepened your voice, making it slightly crackly as well. But that alone seemed to intimidate the barkeep as he shakily pointed to a room with a curtain. You nodded and walked towards that room, poking your head inside to check for any surprises before walking in.

After successfully getting a bounty for here in Corellia you walked back out towards the bar area, putting the fob and the puck in a little satchel hanging from your right side. You walked to the bar, ordering a drink before walking to a more secluded table in the back, removing your helmet and setting it down on the table. You held your drink in your hands, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a sip.

Everyone seemed to be back to whatever games they were playing, ignoring your presence now just as you ignored theirs. However, just as you stood up after your drink, you felt something snap from your belt. Looking down you realized a small twi’lek girl had snatched your coin purse. With not a second wasted you placed your helmet over your head as you gave chase. She was fast but your legs were longer and they carried you further.

You chased her down the street, watching as she made a sharp turn down an alley. You grunted, activating your jetpack as you flew into the alley, landing in front of her, grabbing her arms to stop. She struggled against your grip, however you unrelented, instead crouching in front of her as you snatched the coin bag from her hands. “Enough!” You exclaimed, seemingly startling her into stopping. “Here.” You muttered, taking out a few credits, enough for a few decent meals and maybe a new coat, placing it in her hands.

“We all need to survive, kid. but don't make a habit of stealing from Mandalorians, just ask.” You muttered, rubbing her shoulder before letting her go. She stared at you for a moment, glancing behind you before running off down the alley, meeting up with some of her friends as she showed the credits she got, all of them running off to buy food, probably.

You suddenly heard someone clearing their throat behind you as you stood up, you turned your head, seeing three burly men with their arms crossed over your chest. You sighed, putting the credit bag in your satchel, turning to face them fully. “So armored Mando’s are real then.. wonder how well they can actually fight, considering their dutchess is a coward.” One hissed, and you just hummed in response, “I agree.” You replied simply, taking one of them by surprise.

He quickly gathered himself however, pulling out a knife while the others readied their fists. You shook your head. “Look guys, I really dont wanna have to do this.” You stated, tilting your head ever so slightly, watching… waiting. “hand over your credits and we can leave you alone, but we have you outnumbered… and surrounded.” The leader said, and you turned your head and ducked just in time for a fist to come flying towards your head.

You quickly grabbed the arm of the one who tried to punch you, kneeing their cut as you threw them over your shoulder towards the leader. You tightened your hands into fists, raising them at chest level as another one of the goons came running towards you, the second one not far behind.

They tried to throw punches at the vulnerable spots in your armor before quickly switching to knives to make it more effective. However as they jabbed their knives at you you simply moved your body in a way where they would either hit your armor or they wouldn't hit you at all whilst you made a succession of quick punches. One of the goons swung for your helmet, to knock it off or to actually punch you, you didn't know. You just ducked, landing a swift punch to his gut before landing a hard punch to his jaw, hearing a crack whilst also rendering one of them unconscious.

You took care of the last goon quite quickly too, pushing his limp body on top of the others that you had already beaten, leaving the leader last. “Well? still want my credits?” You asked, however before he could charge, you heard the sound of a stun blaster hit the leader, and he quickly fell to the ground, and standing behind him was a group of four soldiers in interesting black and red armor, with a skull decorating each of their pauldrons.

“I could have handled him” You told the soldiers with a slight kid to your words as you took a step forward, watching as they removed their helmets. You could immediately tell that these men were clones, but not like any you've seen before. They had varying heights and different looks and attributes to them, but each one of them had a part that tied them to the clone hood, and that you picked up on quite quickly.

You stepped out of the alleyway, removing your helmet now as you stood face to face with the group of four, seeing their curious looks. “Oh we saw! you're good.” One of them spoke up, the biggest of the four and also the happiest it seemed, as he was the only one grinning. You then looked down slightly at the man who stood in front of you and in front of the other three clones, and he extended his hand for you to shake.

“Im Hunter, we were making a supply run when we bumped into a young girl, she told us that a Mandalorian gave her credits, but she had to run because the corellian thugs had showed up, so we headed over to see if you needed to help… But it seemed like you had it covered.” the one called Hunter stated, and you shook his hand firmly.

“Yeah they were nothing compared to what I've trained with, but I appreciate you taking care of the last one for me, save the bruised knuckles.” You joked, letting your hand fall to your side. “The names Y/n, I just got here actually, my ship’s having some troubles and I had to make an emergency landing in one of the larger hangars, so I'm just trying to make some credits to either get a new ship, or get it fixed.” You explained, and Hunter nodded, humming as well.

He turned to his brothers for a moment, whispering to them before nodding. “Well maybe we can help you with that. If you don't mind taking some republic work, we could take you on our ship for a bit, and you could help us with some missions. We could definitely use your particular skill set.” Hunter explained, and you hummed, staring at them all before you shrugged. “Why not?”

And that was the day you met your real family, your clan. You ended up becoming a permanent member of the Bad Batch, despite you not being a clone, however the republic and whoever was in charge of overseeing the clone battalions had agreed that adding a skilled warrior to an already skilled and unorthodox group just might be what they needed to help turn the tides.

That day was the day you had taken a paint stipper to your armor, seeing the beautiful shine of the beskar, only to take black and red paint and cover it up all over again, matching the theme of the bad batch. You took aspects of each of the members designs, but the prominent thing was the skull that rested on your right shoulder pauldron.

These men became your family… and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[fictionfolk-safehaven]

TW fictional incest

I saw the ask you posted from Leyley and I'm really glad I'm not the only one in a situation like that. I mean obviously I wasn't, but no one ever talks about it, and I can't blame them with how even self proclaimed proshippers can be about fictives. We post a lot about shipcourse and plurality too, my relationship in particular. I'm a fictive of Leia Organa and I'm dating a Luke Skywalker. It's not my fault that our source is written the way it is, or that I'm still attracted to him! Even in real life people find out they're related after already being in a relationship, and they don't always break up because of it. Luke isn't in my system but we're sure as hell not related to our partner system either so it's fucking fine. You might want to argue that I did choose to be with him all by myself because we were never canonically together, but there was still romantic tension after we found out! The only reason we didn't end up together, at least in my memories, is because I chose Han instead. Well now I choose both of them. And I got them to finally ask each other out too (Han is in my system). For all any of us know not every culture in Star Wars even has an issue with incest, in fact I'm willing to bet Tatooine and Corellia didn't, and Alderaan got blown up so that's not relevant anymore. I love my boyfriend and my husband and yeah one of them is my brother but that's no one else's business.

Believe it or not, we don't know much about your source sadly. Call it the demand avoidance/PDA, but we never got much into Star Wars. So we can't comment much, but I'm glad you're happy with your life now! Hell yeah for system polycules, honestly. I'm glad our blog could show people that there's others like them out there!

-Keeper Charlie

[fleeting-sanity]

Grown Up

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What is a Lord Wrath? Should he be honest with his son or bluff it away? Perhaps a watered down but somewhat truthful answer was the right choice. Before he could speak however, Jaesa interjected.

“It’s an alias common amongst the Sith, Rian.”

Her response was close to what he had in mind. Rian’s curiosity was piqued, turning his gaze back to Rionnic for an elaboration. He knelt down to Rian’s eye level.

“Yes, um… your acolyte friends, once they finish their training will become Sith... Then they become Sith Lords. Usually, Sith Lords take on a different name. They mostly choose a modified version of… uh, ominous… words? Some chose something else.”

But he wasn’t called the Wrath because of that. His name was Xarethe, and before he knew of his birth name, Aevrel. Those were topics to be discussed with Rian for another time. He couldn’t possibly blurt out that he was the Emperor’s executioner. 

“Haha, I find that quite funny.”

Rian’s response took his parents off guard. Both Rionnic and Jaesa thought that he would either be intrigued by Sith culture or be horrified. 

“Funny how?” Jaesa asked with a softer tone.

“They’re like children. My friends and I used to play a game of heroes. We’d choose our… alias. I was known as the Rockcrusher. I never thought Sith would do the same!” claimed the little padawan smugly.

“Oh.” Rionnic and Jaesa said in unison. Amusement replaced the initial shock, as both began smiling. 

“Are you not a child anymore, hmm?” Jaesa teased.

“I’m big now. Soon I will be a Jedi!” As Rian hooked both hands on his hips, confident yet adorable. “I won’t be a child for much longer. I’ll go on missions and explorations on my own! With my own cool ship!”

Upon hearing Rionnic’s attempt on holding his snickering in, Rian whipped his head with a scowl. “There’s nothing funny here, father!” Again, Rian kept surprising his parents.

“Oh, I-”

“I’m leaving you two to start looking for my future ship on the holonet. You both play nice!”

Once the boy entered his room, Rionnic silently chuckled with his hand covering his mouth. Jaesa was still stunned, but the sight of a laughing husband infected her with the merriment. To see their son so lively and ambitious was a taste of the future they both wanted. “Red…”

Rionnic immediately became motionless. 

“That… that thranta ride. It wasn’t my idea. I didn't influence or conspire with Rian in any way. I swear.”

His response wasn’t what she anticipated. The way his gaze softened–however someone would interpret it, made her freeze on the spot. He stood up, returning to his expressionless face.

“I didn’t think you were, anyways.”

He quickly extracted himself from the situation, heading towards the backyard. Truthfully, he has stopped wanting her to justify every bit of her actions. A lesson taught to him by the bond shared with his twin was that of walking oneself in another's shoes. Imagining her living under his scrutiny actually disgusted him; as he viewed her existence to be above his pathetic self, and because he loved her, still. He sighed his eyes closed, wanting a break from thinking and feeling. 

But his holocom cut that short.

“I received a report of a possible move from the Empire again, towards Corellia. We can’t be directly involved but I suspect it’s the new ship factory. Our spies are still monitoring this, but we should act before it’s too late.”

Rionnic’s lack of response raised Lana’s eyebrow, and ten seconds were long enough of a wait.

“... Nik?”

“The week isn’t over yet.”

“I know, but we-”

“Ask him. This is the Republic’s problem.”

“... Acknowledged.”

Should have shut off all communications, he thought. It’s not that it wasn’t important, but he wanted that elusive time away from work with his family. Besides, what use was having a twin if he couldn’t act as a body double for him? He was the more powerful one between them, anyways–as Rionnic scoffed to himself.

As for Jaesa, she was again stuck replaying her husband’s reaction just seconds ago. This time however, she was cautious about defining that as progress. She decided to make his favorite dish for dinner–but before that, she needed to change out of her environmental gear. While she was folding and storing the apparel set, the bedroom door opened to a wide-eyed Rionnic.

Seeing her barely wearing anything quickly bled the color of his hair onto his cheeks.

And they were both speechless. She was the expressionless one while he was flustered. Promptly, he turned around and escaped. The door closed by itself shortly after, or more accurately, by Rionnic’s use of the Force. She then folded her arms, proudly wondering if he liked what he saw.

Thus, a new moment was stuck in a loop inside both of their minds.

Maybe it was fate, but as she arrived at the kitchen, she stumbled upon him furiously gulping a glass of water. He almost choked once she was in his sights, making her reach out to help. Her delicate touch felt like Force Lightning, jolting him away from the kitchen. Had he lingered there, he would probably lose his mental fortress and did more than touch her. But he was not about to be given a break.

His son who was merrily heading towards the kitchen, stopped upon seeing him coughing. “Father? What happened?”

“Umm… nothing, my throat was just not cooperating with me while drinking. I’m fine!”

“Huh. If you say so… okay then, let’s go!”

“Go where?”

“Help mother! Before I met you and stayed in Odessen, I used to help her cook. I feel bad for not having done that in a while. C’mon!”

While the father was grimacing inside, the son smirked deviously, dragging him by the hand. They were greeted by Jaesa, who expressed her gratitude after hearing his intention. But Rionnic stuttered an excuse to catch his breath, elsewhere.

“Um, good Sir, may I change into something else first? Look, it’s quite dirty from the cave. Not good around food!”

“Sure, father.”

Entering the same room again made his mind project the image of his scantily clad wife. He shook his head, wiping away the sweat as he stripped his outfit. He then laid on the bed, trying to regain his composure and breathing. It felt as if he was even weaker than before against her allure, already unsure of his fate not even halfway through the week. The image of him being a floundering mess out of Alderaan scared him. Perhaps a quick shower would help.

Rionnic the Stoic returned to the kitchen, eliciting excitement from his son. The padawan began commanding his father, assigning curated tasks that he felt would bring the parents closer. Each time he did it, he felt like such a grown up! He began loving exercising his power over both of them, taking the reconciliation process by the reins. The Wrath had to chop the vegetables next to his wife who was boiling a broth, and sure enough, Jaesa took the moment to stare lovingly at her husband. 

“Now we’re going to make the condiment! Please fetch me the sugar and some glort slurry.”

The parent’s hands collide when grabbing the sugar container. Jaesa sheepishly stated of getting the slurry instead, as Rionnic handed the sugar to Rian. Trying to take the edge off, Rionnic opened a conversation with his son. 

“So do you like to cook, good Sir?”

“Yeah! I love having every ingredient available! In Ossus our stock was so limited and there wasn’t a lot to choose from.”

“Ah… I’m glad to hear that. Maybe we should send more varieties of food to Ossus.”

“Yes, please! That would really help the people there. Oh, by the way, father! I think I’ve found my ideal ship! I really like the Thunderclap models. The newest one seems really fast.”

“Truly? But are you capable of flying one?”

“Well, not yet…”

Jaesa took the moment of placing Rionnic’s favorite dish on the table to interpose. “You’re still too young for a pilot’s license, Rian. Maybe you should focus on your Jedi training first.”

“B-but I wanna fly a ship!”

“You will, but not soon. Remember the core part of your training. Patience, padawan.” 

Rian pouted, starting to be sick of that term being hammered down each time he was about to not get what he wanted. Fine, he thought, he would be a fully trained Jedi first. 

“How about this…” Rionnic propositioned yet another one of his distraction tactics, pausing for a dramatic effect. “I’ll try requisitioning a Rendili Thunderclap and we’ll test it together. In the meantime, I can summon my ship here if you want.”

“Ooooh, the Fury model? I like that one too, but flying an Imperial ship is risky. If I were to hang around Republic space, anyways. But yes, yes, I want to fly, please!”

The mother’s feelings were mixed. Rionnic was veering close to becoming the fun parent, planting reservations about potentially spoiling their child. Could she even discuss parenting with him? Another part of her thought that Rian deserved all of the boon he was receiving after a less than ideal phase of growing up, having to avoid the Eternal Empire’s reign of chaos and Rionnic himself. Surviving on limited resources on Ossus, then having to run for his life there. 

But that was probably overthinking on her part. The dinner was ready, and then the small family took their seats. 

“Mother said this is your favorite, father.”

“Yes and um… we, we thank her for that.” To which Rionnic displayed an awkward smile for Jaesa, prompting a chuckle from her.

Moments like this made Rionnic wish to quit his job on the spot. What was the reason against it? Was it the spoils that he would want accumulated to secure their future? The galaxy would never run out of new threats to face, and he was tired of fighting it off, thinking that someone else might be a better fit for that. 

And thus the dreaded bedtime arrived. He did not want to be in that room for the time being, hoping for both Jaesa and Rian to sleep sooner. Had he taken up on his twin’s offer to teach him meditation, it would have been a great tool for skipping sleep. Usually, he’d be overworking himself to death. 

But then he remembered that he was Sith. He went to the basement to exercise his lightsaber forms and refine his Force techniques. The caf he took earlier certainly helped. What did not help was her beauty disrupting his focus. He was mentally berating himself for losing control of his own defenses.

“Red?”

That made him almost get sliced by his own flying and spinning lightsaber. His head was saved by his reflexes turning it off in the nick of time, resulting in the hilt striking his head. He heard a loud gasp followed by desperate apologies. “Why are you here…” He asked with shallow breath, rubbing the pain away from his temple.

“Are you hurt? I-”

“I’m fine. What do you want?”

Jaesa's head turned downwards, pausing and doubting her intention after hearing his tone. “I… nevermind.” She quickly turned to leave.

“No, let’s talk. We’ll probably forget about it the next morning.”

Somehow, that line was reassuring to hear. Perhaps his unfriendly tone was because he did just hit his head on a lightsaber hilt. It was getting late, and her objective there was to fetch him back to his son, who requested his presence. “I want to talk about… parenting.”

That made his eyebrow shoot up. “But before that, I’m sorry. I almost caused you harm just then. Please let me treat that bruise?”

“No. Spit it out.”

Arms folded, eyes shut, and a little gulp later, Jaesa turned away to recollect her composure. She was inching closer to defeat. “I need you to give me grace. I can’t talk to you like this,” she sighed, voicing her concern in the gentlest tone. 

“... Fine. I apologize. Now what is it about parenting?”

But not a word from her, still with her back turned. That apology ranked quite low on the acceptability standard. Rionnic was increasingly agitated, confused at the attitude she was presenting. Why make such a simple thing so complicated, he thought. Perhaps he needed to approach this with another angle. 

“Jae…”

His tone and delivery inflicted a biting sensation on her nerves. It has been too long since he called her that, and she felt out of character to be sulking like that. She released a steadying breath, arranging her words before moving her mouth.

“Before anything, I’m speaking here not as a Jedi, but as a mother. I want to talk about… about your promises to him. The nice things. I’m just concerned that he’ll be expecting so much, and that he’ll be… uhm… spoiled.”

“Give him a few years. He’ll grow bored of me, being a teen and all.”

“Perhaps, but I want him to be equipped for dealing with life’s obstacles. I want him to handle rejections well. I… I don’t want him to touch the dark side.”

“Fair enough. What will be my standing, then? If he were to become a Jedi.”

A difficult but expected question. “To be honest… I don’t know. I cannot make that decision for you, and neither could Rian. I…”

“You’ve made the right decision. I’ve always understood that…” as Rionnic turned his face away, before continuing. “I’ll be making mine.”

Once he began stepping away, she called out to let him know of his son’s request. She was met with a short response. Minutes after he was gone, she was still standing there like a mannequin, ruminating over their discussion. It felt unfinished, but the fact that it went smoothly successfully passed the low bar she set towards the path of reconciliation.

“Father! There’s something important I need to talk to you about.”

Rionnic’s gut told him that this would be another punch to it. Rian’s face looked unusually deadpan, sitting on a swivel chair in his room with a resolute posture. 

“First, I want to ask you and I hope you’ll answer honestly, okay?”

The boy's mannerism reminded him of the mother just then, no doubt an inherited trait. He responded with a meek affirmation, scared of what his son would say next. 

“Have you been mistreating my mother?”

Indeed, it was another gut punch. “W-what do you mean?”

“Did you say anything that hurt her feelings? Or did anything that upsets her?”

“Um… I… I’m not sure. Maybe I did?”

Rian unseated himself, approaching his father with determination. “I’ve been observing both of you. Also, the other day, I knew mother was crying but she lied to me. I saw her face. And I saw you this morning. And–and you both rarely talk to each other!”

Rionnic was in the stage of finding out. His throat swallowed bitterly, unable to utter a response.

“Father… even though I love you, if you hurt mother again, I will defend her. If you… if you hurt my friends again, I will defend them. I don’t like seeing my mother cry. D-do you understand?”

The padawan used his maximum bravery to subtly threaten the Sith Emperor, refusing to be blinded by the love his father was showering him with. He felt like such a serious grown up, almost adult, even. Rionnic could feel Rian’s heart beating faster by the seconds.

“I understand…” as he knelt down, gaining better control of his composure. “Forgive me, Rian. I won’t do it ever again. To hurt the ones you love means my love to you isn’t complete yet. I will do better. I promise.”

“Thank you, father. But I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

If only his son knew how much he was still hurting from being abandoned and separated from his family. Was he ready to humble himself towards the woman that has ever deeply hurt him?

[burnwater13]

Garsa Fwip's Sanctuary in Mos Espa, on Tatooine. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 2, The Tribes of Tatooine. Calendar from DateWorks.

Grogu had heard of ‘Cantina Culture’, but honestly he thought it had something to do with infectious disease control. All sorts of people travelled to Tatooine and as a planet with a limited water supply, hygiene practices that were typical on Corellia or Chandrila couldn’t be readily employed. You had to bring your own sanitizer and you had to understand that the sanitizing stations at the space port near Mos Eisley had run out of sanitizing anything a long time ago. 

He was explaining that all to Peli Motto when she began to laugh, loudly and with more gusto than a serious discussion of public hygiene deserved. 

“Buddy, ‘Cantina Culture’ isn't about that kind of biology. It’s about the people who go to a cantina and the sort of things they expect of that cantina. For instance, here, everyone who goes into the cantina knows ya gotta be able to play sabacc. If ya can’t play, ya stay. Simple rule. Now, take Mos Pelgo…”

Grogu waved his hands to interrupt her to no avail.

“They… Okay, okay, Freetown, whatever. Any how, up there ya gotta have a spotchka. Ya gotta share the latest gossip. Ya gotta laugh at the Marshal’s jokes. That’s how they roll up there. Over in Mos Espa, well, there you better have more credits than ya know what to do with. Those Twi’lek dancers and servers will spend it for ya before you can say, ‘No, I don’t want my boots polished’. Even if I had boots needing polishing I wouldn’t let them do it at three times the cost of having the pit droids do it. Ridiculous waste of credits.”

She stopped talking to take a breath and then didn’t start back up. 

“Where was I? Oh, yeah, depending on the town, the people, the products available, and a bunch of other factors, every cantina you walk into is nothing like the last cantina you were in. That’s ‘Cantina Culture’. I’m surprised yer dad didn't explain that to ya. Although, come ta’ think of it, do Mandalorian’s even have cantinas?”

Peli was looking at him expectantly as if he and his dad had been to a bunch of them over the course of their adventures. He shrugged at her. He didn’t think that Mandalorians bothered with stuff like that. They were too busy trying to make sure that ex-Imps weren’t hiding around the corner from everywhere they were.

“Well, when yer dad gets back, he can tell us all about ‘em.”

Peli had settled the matter to her own satisfaction and then walked back to her office, yelling at the pit droids to get her boots and start polishing them. Grogu giggled at that. You never knew which part of a conversation you had with her was going to be the part that stuck. Grogu doubted that she’d remember to ask his dad about Mandalorian cantinas and what kind of culture they had. 

Grogu thought that was a silly question any way. Based on everything they already knew about Din Djarin and the handful of other Mandalorians he’d met, Grogu could tell you just what a Mandalorian cantina was like. 

First, it wasn’t called a cantina. It was called a ‘bar’. It was called that because cantina sounded too fun and tavern was too friendly. ‘Bar’ conveyed the right sort of purposefulness of the establishment. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Mandalorians were very deliberate people and they didn’t mess around with subtleties. You lined up at the bar top and were given a drink with a straw and you put your foot on the bar at the bottom of the structure to allow you to rest a little. No chairs. No tables. No booths. No music. No decorations. No problems. 

Grogu had no doubt that they entered and left in shifts and were only allowed there at certain times of day and on certain days of the week. Organized, methodical, routine, predictable, boring certainty. 

Then he considered what a Jedi cantina would be like. He sighed and laughed at the same time. His first thought was that it would be empty and his second thought was it would be the absolute opposite of a Mandalorian bar. It would be filled with sound. At least two or three different sources of music would be present and playing at the same time. You would just focus on the one you liked better and you wouldn’t even notice the others. The furniture would look like it had been found at a recycling center. It would be every size, every style, every color and just pushed into the large room in a manner that would immediately suggest that it had once been used to barricade the entry. 

Grogu didn’t know who would have been foolish enough to try and attack a Jedi cantina. Only a bunch of fools. Of course the Jedi wouldn’t have called it a cantina either. They would have given it a semi-ironic nickname like a ‘watering hole’ or a lounge. The images those names evoked were almost opposites and that's just what the Jedi would have been counting on. No reason to advertise that the location was primarily about goofing off and playing chess or darts with your fellow knights and masters, no padawans allowed. 

He giggled at that. He suspected that rule would apply to younglings as well, but he couldn’t imagine a Jedi watering hole that would have been able to keep Ian out. His friend had an absolute sixth sense for spaces like that and had made a regular study of them at the Jedi Temple. That’s how Master Yoda’s private swamp ended up hosting a younglings festival night when the powerful Jedi had been called away to travel to Trymant IV.  Grogu wished that event had established a youngling cantina culture, but you couldn’t hide a fifty foot water slide from Master Yoda, no matter how many of the younglings worked together to make it disappear.

“Hey buddy, I’m back. Peli said you wanted to go to the Cin Vhetin.”

The Mandalorian was suddenly there and seemed pretty happy for a change. 

Grogu asked why.

“Peli said you wanted to see a real honest to B’Omarr Mandalorian drinking establishment. One just opened here in Mos Eisley. If we go now they’ll still have Fire Stacks. You won’t want to miss them.”

Huh? A Mandalorian drinking establishment that served food? You could have knocked Grogu over with a feather. His dad wanted to get something to eat that wasn't a ration pack? Grogu jumped up into his dad’s arms and bumped his head against the Mandalorian’s helmet. He thought it was important to encourage his dad to go new places and try new things, especially when he was along for the ride.

[nittusidhe]

I’m going insane™️ about Han Solo growing up surrounding by Amavikka on corellia. Just, what would the culture look like there? It’s not chattel slavery, it’s debt slavery, paper slavery, still very real but the structures are different.

and how would the myths be shaped? Theres no great dangerous forces of nature. What would Lukka look like?

I have so many Thoughts, but the plot keeps evading me. (If anyone has questions about my world building for correlian Amavikka or just Amavikka outside of Tatooine feel free to ask! I’m making several fics right now but none are ready to start posting so asks feed the muse)

[nocturius8015ficore]

Fanfiction #8: Corr’s Bachelor Degree

Nocturius: 8th Republic Commando fanfiction! **All my stories are readable independently**

This story is about Corr as he was learning to be a commando with the Nulls. Or mostly, drinking Mereel's ''wisdom'' about the civilian world and working his self-confidence.

Also on Ao3 -> click HERE

Title: Corr’s Bachelor Degree

Fandom: Star Wars Republic Commando books by Karen Traviss

Characters: Null-7 Mereel and RC-5108/8843 Corr Skirata (Mention Ordo)

Rating: General

Topic: Positive masculinity, manhood, hooking up, dating advice, light mood

Pitch: Mereel and Corr are waiting in a dinner and the Null decide it was time for Corr to explore new horizons.

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

Wounded by Fi-Core/Nocturius Somewhere between in True Color, before Gaftikar Fi and Niner, on an undescribed planet

Null-Class ARC trooper, lieutenant Null-7 ‘’Mereel’’ had a very unusual assignment to fill these days. He was used to work solo or with his five close brothers, this time he was with a fairly newly met one, CT-5108/8843 ‘’Corr’’.

Corr WAS the mission.

Mereel was pretty good at guessing what kind of people he was dealing with. Actually, that was one of the reasons he accepted to take the former regular trooper as a cross-trained commando. He was also quite fond of the man. Not at all like what he has heard about the regs’. Corr had an inquisitive mind, he was dedicated to his tasks and willing to put the extra effort to match new challenges. Not a ‘’wet droid’’ at all.

The trainee learnt at a decent speed, most of what was expected for a commando. Not as efficient as what he would have done, but he couldn't blame him. The difference of 30% intelligence between them mostly required him a bit of patience in the teaching and what Corr didn’t have in brain, he compensated by hard work and eagerness. Which is all a teacher ever needs.

Today was a calm one. Both of them were sitting with civilian clothes in a cantina-bar which was mostly a fret-stop in a busy commercial district on Corellia. In those chill down times, Mereel often took the opportunities to talk with his pupil about various topics. Some ‘’Cultural and Art education’’ like he liked to call.

While he was waiting for his meal, two very gorgeous attendees passed near him and he couldn't help smiling charmingly. He got a wink from one of them. The civilian world was so lovely.

He looked at Corr and raised an eyebrow. The munitions disposal specialist was busy doing some adjustments to his new enhanced prosthetics arms.

‘’You are missing all the scenery, ner vod.’’ he smirked.

‘’ I took mental notes of all the exits and potential dangers, place to hide and...’’ Corr stiffed at first but frowned at the lieutenant's expression.

‘’ Not that… them.’’ he pointed discreetly at the beauties in battle sign language.

‘’ What about them? ‘’ he replied with the proper signs.

‘’ They are cuties, that's it. Corr, relax. Not everything is about soldiering, you know? Sometimes you just have to appreciate the moment.‘’

‘’ Oh… okay! Yeah, you are right, they are easy on the eyes for sure! ‘’ the trooper said before returning to his tinkering.

Mereel sighed and sat closer to his brother.

‘’ Do you… feel salty? ’’

‘’ About what? ’’ Corr said ‘’ I miss my brothers if that's what you are asking for. More than my arms.’’

‘’ Nah… I was talking about Ordo. He pretty much stole your girlfriend! ’’

‘’ Did he? It’s not really a surprise. I’m just a reg’. Girls don't see us as mate choices, you know. I was lucky enough to have one talking to me and being very nice. Good for him! ‘’

The Null touched his forehead in exasperation.

‘’ You don’t get it. Ord’ika either, thinking of it… You vode are so clueless about those things aren’t you? ‘’

‘’ Pretty much, yeah.’’ Corr answered blankly. ‘’ Where are you going with that? ’’

‘’ Well, what you need to understand is that people don't know we are clones. The only thing they see, is very fit, smart and fine looking lads. That’s attractive to anyone. Trust me. The day I left Kamino, I tried as much as possible my many hypotheses. I wasn't disappointed. ‘’ he said with a grin.

‘’ But you are a Null ARC. I can’t match that. ’’

‘’ With that way of thinking? Yeah sure. You know, we, Null-Class were supposed to be real pieces of trash according to the Kaminiise. According to their logic: Alpha are the crème de la crème, Commandos come in second, white jobs like you at the bottom as cannon fodder. That’s a pile of osik, don't you agree? We need to deconstruct the indoctrination and free ourselves. There is no such thing as Men's hierarchy value in the love business. All socially constructs rules. We might have hatched as clones but we are men nonetheless. We deserve the same. It’s time for you to take your place and get what life owes you, Corr’ika! ’’ the Null said while keeping an eye on the holoboard of the cantina.

A droid-waitress came with two plates and an ale pitcher. After thanking her respectfully, Corr poured himself a glass and drank half of it with a loud exhalation.

‘’ Ok, I’m in. What’s the plan? ‘’ he said, putting his elbows on the table conspiratorially.

‘’ That’s what I like about you Corr, you are very open-minded. Not like that di’kut of Ordo who’ll probably stay a virgin till he marries the shabla girl, I swear. That’s not our path. Life is too short, there is no time to spare. We can hook up with any willing beauty. Fortunately for us, there are plenty who don't know yet they are missing the finest engineered men! You and me, ner vod!’’

‘’ Gotcha, but how do we make that magic happen? ’’

‘’ Yes, love that. But first, do you prefer men or women? ’’

‘’ What? I dunno, women probably? I’m a man.That’s what we are supposed to… Oh right. Social constructs? I get it. I don’t have to be attracted to who I’m EXPECTED to. Hmmm… I don’t mind, I guess? I’ll be happy with anyone who wants me. ‘’

‘’ 4,5 stars! Good, but you missed the part about you being a treat to someone, not a consolation prize! I saw some men trying to get laid by any means. Being too insistent, diminishing themself to get pity attention. Nah. You must show you are available, being authentic, always respecting yourself and your partner. Otherwise you will feel miserable, deep down. You are a Mandalorian. You wear your honor as well as your armor. ’’

‘’ Still, what about that? ’’ sighed Corr as he showed his arms. ‘’ Am I not less of a man with plasteel instead of flesh? ’’

‘’ That, ner vod, is what will make you an UNIQUE lifetime experience! ’’

The trainee sat back and took a bite of his lunch. Deep in his thoughts, he eats his whole meal silently. Mereel wrote something on his ‘pad then looked behind him a few times.

‘’ Never kissed anyone, what will I do if I screw up? ’’ grumbled the former regular trooper.

‘’ Vod. You are a bomb disposal expert. How bad could things be? You are observant and you know when it’s time to bang out. ’’

‘’ Not that much ’’ he said cynically, fidgeting with his prosthetics. ‘’ But I get what you mean. I’ve survived that. I can survive to a ‘no’. I don’t have much to lose. I’ll be on another planet shooting clankers in a minute anyway. ‘’

‘’ You can do better than that. You need to trust your instinct. Actually, what if you let the other person take the lead while you enjoy yourself? ’’

‘’ Yeah I think I can do that. Sounds fun. ’’ said Corr pensively.

‘’ I think you are ready, the only thing missing is finding an opportunity…’’

Suddenly the light flickers and a mechanical voice announced the cancellation of all the flights for the night.

‘’ …Or making it. ’’ whispered the ARC trooper. ‘’ We’ll be stuck for a couple of hours, better make the best of it. ‘’ Then he stood up ‘’ Alright voyagers! All drinks on me till you get bored of it, that’s my brother's last day on leave, anyone wanna hang out with us? ’’

People in the cantina-bar whooped enthusiastically and proceeded to order to their hearts and stomach content. The two lovely looking beings Mereel spotted earlier that day came straight to them. Corr swallowed the rest of the pitcher to hide his nervousness.

‘’ That’s very kind of you, how may we thank you? ‘’ said the first one with a pleasant expression.

‘’ Woah, that’s a thirsty lad! ’’ added the second with a wide smile.

‘’ Yeah and I’m always hungry too, take a seat. ’’ blurted Corr before patting the bench near him.

‘’ I like what I’m hearing here, what a promising night! ’’ replied the second one, sitting and looking at Corr’s arms.’’ Is it some cybernetics to perform special trades? I never saw that model.’’

‘’ Ehhhm, yes! They are highly versatile and precise. The touch is very light. Wanna try? ’’ he said, offering his hand to the handsome traveler beside him.

‘’ Sure! Waitress? A bottle of spotchka please? ’’

Mereel grinned and signed with his hands ‘’ that one is into you, ner vod, you got this! ’’

End

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

[aeskanera]

Trooper: Nuala Croí

Nuala Croí • Corellian • haunted by...the sound of gunfire and explosions, even when she knows it's not real • spirited, courageous, inspiring •

Age: 23 as of SWtOR

Backstory, Personality, Story Themes/Character Arc/Motivations and Fears, Looks

BACKSTORY

Nuala Croí (pronounced Kree) is a Corellian human. Though not actually from Corellia itself, she was born and raised on Talus in the Corellian system. Her home was in a grassy coastal countryside (think the coasts of the British Isles).

She had a relatively simple upbringing. Her father was a fisherman and her mother a former engineer on Corellia who gave up her job to take care of her children. Nuala's mother had also given up her job to help take care of foster children, specifically working with an organization that aids orphaned children of Chalactan immigrants to Corellia. Nuala grew up always surrounded by siblings and family.

She grew up closely connected to Corellian culture, including the strong military tradition that eventually leads to her moving to Corellia to join CorSec, though she ends up enlisting in the Republic Military Academy instead, graduating with top marks.

While in the Republic Military, she was stationed at the head of a guerrilla unit in the Outer Rim. During a search and rescue mission on Hoth, she took a wampa claw to the face, which would have killed her were this not the Star Wars universe with much more advanced technology and medicine than our universe has.

(tw for upcoming non-graphic though detailed description of head and facial injuries)

One cheekbone was shattered, had she not been wearing snow goggles she would have lost an eye, and one of her temples fractured and nearly caved in. She had a cybernetic enhancement put in her head, one that replaced the missing bone fragments of her cheekbones and looped up and in to connect to her skull and brain. Her hearing was damaged, and she often wears a cybernetic hearing aid as a result. She had to be placed on anti-psychosis mediation due to both the head injury and the implant, and for a full year had regular neural scans taken in between missions to ensure that she was still fit for duty. She still takes the medication as of her placement in Havoc Squad.

(end tw)

PERSONALITY

spirited, courageous, inspiring

fearless, brave, courageous - this girl regularly looks down the barrel of a blaster without skipping a beat. Her Corellian "rocket fuel for blood" manifests in her bold and courageous willingness to throw herself into battle without a second thought, and her reliance on shooting as a first plan. She views great courage as being highly honorable and deserving of recognition

unhesitating, determined, decisive - see above. She'll throw herself on the front lines without a second thought. After all she is Corellian, and you should never tell a Corellian the odds

bold, spirited - she may have a healthy respect for authority, and she may not be an argumentative person, but she's certainly not a quiet person either. She doesn't get particularly anxious (with the exception of social situations occasionally), and is ok with taking the occasional risky gamble

self sacrificing, honorable, dutiful, loyal, steadfast, just - she believes in doing things the right way, even if that is not necessarily the fastest or most efficient way, or doesn't provide her with any personal gain. Her most valued concept is family ties; loyalty is another highly valued prime concept

idealistic, natural leader, libertarian, patriotic - I NEED you all to know I do NOT mean libertarian like the right-wing anarcho-capitalists of the usamerican political party. I mean it in the more vague political philosophy sense, that she believes in liberty, freedom, human rights, etc. She believes in what the Republic stands for, even with all its faults. This is expanded on more in a bit

versatile, innovative - she's not stuck in a set way of doing things. If one method doesn't work or make sense, she's more than willing to try something new and take suggestions

sentimental, disciplined - these are grouped together because they don't really fit anywhere else on the list lol. She's not a very sentimental person generally, but she is in regard to her homeworlds of Corellia and Talus, her home system, and home culture. Discipline comes into play in her ability to grit her teeth and stay professional when superiors talk down to her

Best quality: her shining idealism and optimism, her overall passion and commitment to her morals and belief in a more equal galaxy

Worst quality: overthinks when reading the tone of a conversation and reading others' opinions of her and where she stands in her relationships; hides behind a veil of disinterest, sarcasm, casual amusement, daring, vanity, etc in front of people she doesn't know very well to feel "cool"

STORY THEMES/CHARACTER ARC/ MOTIVATIONS AND FEARS

Trauma, political idealism in the face of corruption, the questioning of authority, duty and conscience, the ends justifying the means.

Obviously, the whole "duty and conscience" "ends justifying the means" thing is a pretty clear theme of the Trooper story and makes up a good chunk of the conflict, so I don't really feel like I need to explain that one.

She's very idealistic, but not in the way that Mydha (Jedi Knight) is idealistic - Mydha being idealistic about virtues and hope and the goodness of people. Nuala is more politically idealistic, idealistic about systems and structures designed to aid society. She isn't blind to the faults of the Republic, but she believes in what it stands for and that it has the ability to become perfect if only people who felt the same way were in charge. She's very much a "change comes from within" kind of person, and some of her arc is that things aren't always so black and white, that it's impossible to be a good soldier in a moral sense and also a good soldier that follows orders.

Her previous injury affects just about everything in her life. Obviously, she is still dealing with the physical trauma of the injury (for example, she likely will never recover her hearing fully). She still takes anti-psychosis meds and likely will for the rest of her life as a result of the head injury. More than that, the emotional and mental effects are something she is still learning to live with several years later. The fact that she has the medical history that she does means that she feels as though command is just waiting for the moment that she slips up, that she can be declared unfit for duty.

Then there's the actual psychosis itself, which she developed as a result of both the head injury and the cybernetic impact (though she was likely already genetically predisposed to it). Her symptoms manifest as paranoia and auditory hallucinations (mostly the sound of gunfire and explosions). The medication mostly limits the hallucination episodes, and lowers the paranoia to a manageable amount. Dealing with this makes up a significant part of her character (as does me making an attempt at de-stigmatizing psychosis - all my fellow personality disorder girlies (gender-neutral) rise up!).

LOOKS

The most striking features of Nuala are her cybernetics and scars. Her implant wraps under and around her right eye, starting about halfway across her cheekbone and extending up to her temple. She often uses a hearing aid in her right ear, but depending on her mood will sometimes wear her second one as well (and as someone who wears a hearing aid I know that “depending on mood” is not the best way of phrasing it but words are not wording right now). Across her left eye are four claw marks that cut through her eyebrow, skip over her eye, start back up again on her cheekbones, and come to a stop about half an inch above her jaw.

Looking past her scars, she's quite short and lithe. She's got fair skin and ruddy cheeks. Her face is round, her eyes are green, and her hair is ginger-red. Her lips are quite pouty.

[fakewedge]

this is a niche post about a throwaway line in a ttrpg sourcebook. but these fictional sociologists seem to be mistakenly identifying Crime as universal and intrinsically Immoral and The Family as universal and intrinsically Moral, instead of researching the construction of "crime" and "the family" and the morality ascribed to them within Corellian society. and that mistake is throwing them off - they're assuming that every place, in every time, defines and responds to crime in the same way!

based on how Corellian culture is characterized throughout (what I have read of) legends, I would hazard a guess that the hegemonic ideology is classical liberalism (laissez-faire capitalism, Don't Tread On Me, if you work hard then you'll get ahead, etc.). crucial to mention here that their head of state is directly chosen by a council of the biggest big business CEOs. they're also fairly nationalist (planetist?) - there's an ostensibly fringe sect of Corellians who exclusively marry other Corellians, but in legends, Corellians who do not marry people from their homeworld seem to be few and far between (Han Solo being a notable exception), and the sentiment that you're better off choosing partners that way is expressed far beyond "the fringes."

the confluence of liberalism and nationalism isn't exactly unusual, and the way they meld into an attitude of "we'll tend to ourselves, we don't need outside regulation" here explains this "contradiction" - one has a responsibility to provide for their family (since no one else should have to), and is given a certain amount of freedom in how that responsibility is fulfilled, if not by the law then by the broader culture. certainly none of the Corellian smugglers we meet are portrayed as bad parents or spouses because of their work: smuggling and piracy are another way to provide for you and yours.

as an aside, one can easily figure that national pride and a distaste for "big government" fuel both opposition to Imperial rule (hence why there are so many Corellians in the Alliance, despite Corellia being an Imperial stronghold through the Thrawn campaign) and support for it - fiscal conservatism is inseparable from social conservatism, and even though plenty of Corellians join the Alliance, presumably just as many enlist in the Imperial military. and as the first X-Wing book mentions, Imperials retreat to Corellia post-Endor and funnel support and power into the Diktat's rule. I doubt the Empire would retreat there if Corellian institutions weren't already sympathetic to them.

[magnetarbeam]

Another thing I don't really get about MedStar is Jos's hangups about his relationship with Tolk, and how apparently on Corellia, you can get, like, disowned by your family for marrying someone from offworld?

Where did that idea get sourced from? Did these books come up with it? Because that... I don't know. Kinda feels weird next to how I've gotten used to thinking of Corellian culture from stuff like X-Wing.

[blackkatmagic]

Granta, Eldra, and Maul getting to thieve, punch, and be dramatic is a winning combination.

(i ADORE them ok)

“No guards, then,” he says dryly, pulling the cable up and coiling it. The hole vanishes as he hauls the shifted flagstone back into place, and Eldra snorts.

“Whatever Maul decided to do, it’s very distracting, apparently,” she says, but deigns to offer Granta a hand up as he finishes erasing any trace of the moved stone.

“Maybe he took his shirt off,” Granta suggests, and winces slightly as he comes to his feet, rolling his shoulders. He’s still feeling the after-effects of their trip to Felucia, apparently.

Eldra slants him a glance, then deftly pulls the coiled rope from his hands and slings it over her shoulder and across her chest. “At this point it would be more distracting if he put a shirt on. That scrap of fabric he normally wears covers about as much as the ‘traditional’ Twi'lek dancer outfits we saw on Nar Shaddaa.”

Granta hums, entirely amused, because he knows Maul has been showing progressively more of his chest each time he changes clothes at least thirty percent in an effort to make Eldra look. If he knew she’d noticed and disregarded it, he’d be incredibly offended. “Are you still offended by that? That was a year ago.”

“They don’t have anything to do with tradition,” Eldra says, scornful. “Ryloth is a desert. Do you know what happens when you have that much skin exposed in a desert? And the rest of the galaxy has just accepted it!”

Her lekku curl sharply, like fists. It’s not a gesture Granta thought lekku could make before he met Eldra, but it’s one he’s becoming increasingly familiar with.

“Our first act as rulers of the galaxy can be an educational campaign regarding the historic fashions of the Twi'lek people,” he proposes. “I'm sure it will be a riveting success.”

Eldra rolls her eyes, reaching out to thump him on the arm. It’s relatively light, for her, meaning it will only leave a small bruise. “Don’t laugh or I’ll bring up that Telosian town on Corellia—”

“You assume I can be offended by wild misinterpretations of my birth culture,” Granta says breezily. He’ll never admit the effort it takes not to twitch at the mention of the travesty they encountered on Corellia, though.

Raising a brow, Eldra aims a long, pointed look at him. “So I should assume that Telosian restaurant was standard—”

“It most certainly was not, and half the decorations were traditionally Doniphoni—”

[findafight]

Just discovered ur post o66 au im literally so so obsessed have you got any other headcanons or notes?? I literally want to know everything about this au haha

Tbh this is possibly the most self indulgent of my aus. The other ones I'm like Woah wouldn't this be funny/interesting/neat? And this one I'm like. This is something I need in existence. I'm so glad it also makes other people mildly unhinged :)

So! I know I said in the tags of one post but here are the species for the characters I've figured out so far and mild backstories for them! I have a weird half-baked part in my drafts but ehhh that's for later.

Robin-- she's actually Zelosian, a human-passing sentient plant people. Essentially blind at night, chlorophyll for blood, and bright green eyes. She was the grand-padawan of the master Archivist Jocasta Nu (whom she bragged made far superior tea than Steve's great-Grandmaster, which could be said for nearly anyone in the temple), and enjoyed the anthropological media studies. During the Clone wars she and her as yet unnamed master assisted affected planets with knowledge and artifact preservation. They were not permanently assigned to a squadron of Clones as they were frequently in the temple etc. In her youth, she was assigned a mission to assist a planet's heir (Nancy) in documenting culturally significant places/artifacts that were under threat from extreme modernists. They ended up on the run and falling in love, a brief but passionate affair. With differing opinions on their responsibilities and duties to each other, themselves, and their peoples, they did not continue the romantic aspect of their relationship. At the time, Robin was figuring out where she wanted to be within the order, leaving her family and culture (and Steve) was never an option, while Nancy wanted to run away together, at least for a little while. They remained occasional penpals.

Steve-- he's Balosar (near-human with antennapalps on his head that assist in sensing vibrations(?) And can tuck into his scalp, as seen as the death-stick dealer in AotC) and was born on Corellia. (This is because I want him to have bloodstripes. I debated making Robin Corellian but she wasn't on the frontlines and would be unlikely to get bloodstripes) he was a bit of a rough and tumble Padawan, passionate and open with his affections. He'd been spoken to about his connection to Robin, but had proven himself able to let her go should it be necessary. During the war, Master Claudia was a general and he was her commander. Their Clone captain/commander was Clicks, who got his name from batch mates because of the tsk and clicking noses he made while thinking. He was playful and a smidge cocky, but cared deeply for his siblings and held a love for botany. Steve eventually decided that after the war, possibly after his knighthood trials he wanted to begin working in the creche.

Claudia -- she was a nautolan master Jedi, who was Steve's master. Her master was Mace Windu, either before or after Depa Bilaba. Steve was probably her second Padawan, but he threw unique challenges at her. She was actually the second master Steve had, the first, who had asked him to become his Padawan a bit young, at thirteen, had quickly grown frustrated with Steve and his affections for Robin, saying they were attached and very un-jedi, and attempted to forcefully remove the force bond that had formed between the two which distressed both Steve and Robin so much that other Jedi could feel it. Claudia had offered herself to finish Steve's training, and to work with him to understand the bonds he had with Robin and work on non-attachment. They were a formidable pair that tended to throw people off and were often underestimated with Steve's playboy charms and Claudia's motherly nature. She was killed when order 66 went out.

Dustin-- rodian (bald green guys with biiig black eyes that seem to have pinpricks of stars in them) he was a youngling at the time the Republic fell, but had already formed a bit of a bond with Steve and Claudia, and the force was nudging them together. Many suspected that Dustin would either be Claudia's Padawan after Steve or perhaps even Steve's first Padawan. I fortunately, after nightfall and escaping the Temple, Dustin blocked out many of the family he knew, including Steve and Claudia. When he escaped, Lucas' family helped him, having been long time friends with Claudia and knowing the Jedi would never betray the Republic.

El-- she is a human. she was kidnapped from the temple during Knightfall, and was in training to be an inquisitor until she decided to escape. She does not remember her birth name, but was going to be eleventh sister, so goes by El (admittedly my knowledge of the nth sister/brother is limited just go with this). At some point, she helps Hopper, a wookie who is just trying to get by after everything the empire did to Kashyyyk.

Eddie-- he is an Iridonian Zabrak, maybe one of his parents was human though because his hairline is much closer to his forehead than others. He was raised by his uncle Wayne, who was killed by the Empire for resisting. Eventually he was able to join the rebellion as a mechanic, which he quite likes. Somewhere along the way he met Chrissy, who quickly became his best friend.

Chrissy--a Twi'lek spy for the rebellion, her skin is a powdery pink. She assists the Freedom Trail, and often goes undercover. Her mother sold her into slavery, but she was taken under the wing of other enslaved twileks and was able to Free herself and began assisting others. One of her mentors helped her find the Rebellion where she is using her disarming personality to take down slavers and the Empire.

[bloodbowlminis]

5 PARSECS FROM HOME: A Mandalorian Saga

So although my main idea was to highlight my brothers and my efforts to make and show off cool thematic Blood Bowl teams (and believe me the dream is still very much alive and in progress) anyone who follows this blog will know about my passion for ALL things miniature related. Whether it be D&D, or the myriad of skirmish games I play.

This has all lead me to some pretty interesting miniature agnostic games the Star of which, at this moment, is FIVE PARSECS FROM HOME

FIVE PARSECS FROM HOME, published by MODIPHIUS, is described thus on their website:

Five Parsecs From Home is a solo adventure wargame where you assemble a ragtag crew of galactic trailblazers and head out to explore the stars, pick up jobs, and every now and then — engage in some action-packed, sci-fi combat!

Battles are procedurally generated with huge combinations of enemies, weapons, battlefield circumstances and objectives whether fighting rivals or carrying out jobs.

With each encounter you earn experience and loot, progressing your crew and story as you send your crew to look for contacts, trade, explore the colony, recruit replacements or train up their skills.

The game is playable with any miniatures you have on hand and requires only a small number to get started, making it ideal for both experienced and new science fiction gamers. All you need is a few six-sided dice and a couple of ten-sided dice.

So I decided to put my Star Wars Legion and Imperial Assault minis to use after binging season 3 of The Mandalorian and LOVING it. Bellow you can see the crew I ended up with. For the most part I used what I rolled except I accidentally created 8 characters instead of the standard 6 but I just discarded the two I liked the least.

CREW: The Covert

SHIP: JAI’GALAAR (Shrieking Hawk)

Background, motivation, class

DIN DJARIN

* Wasteland Nomad

* Survival

* Bounty Hunter

DIN GROGU

* Research Station

* Loyalty

* Technician

ATAKOATH FARR

* Long term space mission - his clan was a space faring clan that explored the Unknown Regions

* Truth - wants to know what the Chiss are up to (Believes Onewa is the key to discovering more about the Chiss)

* Explorer

CRASS ELDAR

* Lower Mega City class - Grew up in a covert on Corellia

* Revenge (Rival: Empire) - Empire wiped out her covert and have captured her friend

* Mercenary - made living as a hired gun/body guard

IMUPAEK ORDO

* Primitive World - was abandoned on Dathomir in the jungles and refused to believe that Maul had died

* Truth - Is hunting for Maul to slay a god and find the truth

* Punk (Rival: Maul/Crimson Dawn)

ONAEWA (KAO’NAE’WATARO)

* Alien Culture - Was brought up by a Mandalorian who found the Chiss foundling in the Unknown regions where he brought her up as a follower of The Way. ATAKOATH and his covert found her in an escape pod

* Adventure - Her father was a lost bounty hunter that found himself in the Chiss ascendancy and brought up ONAEWA

* Trouble Shooter - Her tactical and problem solving acumen are down to her Chiss ancestry, but this can make her seem cold and distant. She is a devotee of The Way

These are just broad strokes that will develop as the campaign develops but I have already played 2 campaign turns that I will put into narrative battle report posts later on.

I cannot recommend this game enough for anyone who wants to play a Cowboy Beebop or Firefly style game that scratches both the skirmish war game and RPG itches and can be played in any universe, preexisting or completely new.