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unorthodoxiguana · 11 months ago

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I might have seen this said before, on a different post, but I couldn't find it, so I'm just gonna say a few words on this, partially because of that and partially because it's been ages since I've last read the series, despite it being ingrained into my head.

Almost all of the characters in TUC have moments where they are genuine assholes. Gregor has a few points where he says some genuinely disrespectful shit. Luxa, as well as most of the other humans (including Gregor, although arguably to a lesser extent), are deeply prejudiced against the gnawers. Ripred, is, well, Ripred (look, I love him, we all do, but he's a dick).

Even Vikus, arguably one of the nicest characters in the series, admires Sandwich (I think, been a while), a man who literally used poison to commit genocide in the name of stealing land that didn't belong to him.

The only characters I can think of in TUC that don't have flaws are the ones who also have the least lines: Aurora, Dulcet, Miravet. Oh, and all of those characters? Probably also prejudiced against gnawers, just never explicitly stated (to my knowledge), probably due to their obscene lack of lines. Of course there are characters like Lizzie and Hazard, who are literal fucking children so as nice as they are, I think it's safe to say they can't really be counted up here. (Should probably also mention that Gregor and Luxa are also children, just ones that were forced to grow up faster, sadly).

Then again, all of these characters have redeeming qualities. Gregor can be disrespectful at times, but that's mainly because of the stress placed upon him by the various bullshit situations he has to go through, and he usually apologizes after. Luxa and all the humans are deeply prejudiced (actually, I should probably add the fliers might be in that category too), but they are basically raised from birth to hate and kill gnawers, and vice versa. plus, it's shown that despite what is practically being brainwashed from birth, they can grow and change to overcome their own bigotry and accept gnawers as genuine people, as well as friends.

And yes, Ripred, the glorious bastard himself, is a dick. But he's also a war veteran who's lost his family, and most of the respect from his people, meaning he mainly works with humans, who tend to treat him with suspicion, if not outright hostility (until they get to know him). And he makes up for it by letting his guard down at times to be a father to the traumatized pups that dragged him into their pack.

Point is, flawed characters are one of the things that make TUC so great. They're not few and hid away either, they're everywhere, with visible flaws. If you want to make a good character, TUC is a great series to use as an example. Everything casts a shadow, just like every character has a flaw. If they don't, you probably just can't see them from your angle. And if they don't? Like, at all? Give them some, just make sure the shadow they cast matches up with the object itself.

#gregor the overlander #the underland chronicles #tuc #ripred #underland chronicles #suzanne collins #gregor tuc #gto #ripred the gnawer #writer stuff #as well I guess?#also we need more Dulcet appreciation #Dulcet MVP #also holy shit this is long #“a few words” yeah fucking right dipshit #any thoughts?

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dystopicjumpsuit · 1 year ago

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That's totally fair! I'm still trying to figure out the best way to get this train moving, but I'm nervous to get too far ahead of myself because I know what horrors lurk in the first draft (looking at you, "pad out for transition" and "this makes no sense and you should fix it" marginal notes 💀). I so appreciate all your support! It keeps me going when engagement is down. 💙💙💙

Stars Beyond Number - Chapter 2

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged; regardless of rating, minors DNI)

Pairings: Echo x Riyo Chuchi; Gregor x OFC Cerra Kilian

Wordcount: 2.4k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, non-specific injury, angst, nightmares (not described)

Suggested Listening:

Summary: Echo runs his first mission for Rex's resistance cell and learns more about his new companions.

A/N: This story shares continuity with Martyrs and Kings and "Do It Again," but all three fics can be read as stand-alones.

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This is the dead land

This is cactus land

—T. S. Eliot, “The Hollow Men”

“I’m scanning at least four Venators in various stages of decommissioning,” Cerra said. “This one, near the equator, is still mostly intact. Probably our best bet for a functional pod.”

“Planetary security looks tight,” Echo said. “And there’s an Imperial outpost under construction. Looks like the Empire wants to oversee the Scrapper Guild in person here. If they spot us, it will complicate the mission.”

“Got a better option?” Cerra asked.

“No,” he conceded. “I don’t suppose I do.”

“Then let’s hope they don’t spot us.”

Entering atmosphere was bumpy as hell, and the sub-light drive was still making that disconcerting racket, but despite Echo’s pessimism, their shuttle went undetected. He flew low over the Venator, scouting for a landing zone that was at least somewhat secure.

“Any chance you can put us down on the flight deck?” Cerra asked.

“Negative,” Echo replied. “It’s blocked by debris.”

“Figures,” she sighed.

“There,” Echo said after a few moments of searching. “Plenty of cover, not too far from the Venator.”

He landed the shuttle as Cerra readied the cargo floater. Echo exited first, scanning for hostiles before motioning her forward.

“On the plus side, the shuttle blends in with the rest of the junk,” Cerra muttered.

They moved as quickly as possible with the unwieldy cargo floater, keeping a wary eye for Scrapper Guild members. The path was rough and littered with sharp, twisted durasteel fragments and shards of broken transparisteel. Cerra wore sturdy work boots and durable clothing, and she had a blaster strapped to her thigh, but Echo hated how vulnerable she appeared without armor or a helmet. If she slipped and fell, she could easily sever an artery in this scrapheap. He resolved to help her get her gear in order before the next time she went offworld.

They picked their way stealthily to the massive ship, and once aboard, made their way through the shadowy corridors. Cerra seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Echo realized she must have spent a significant amount of time on a Venator. The ships were confusing to navigate even when they were powered up and illuminated, and based on the amount of dust and refuse that littered the passageways, this one hadn’t been operational in a long time.

When they finally reached the med bay, Cerra dropped her satchel and got to work while Echo stood guard.

“Better make sure this thing actually works before I tear it out,” Cerra said.

“I hope you don’t need me to restore power to the ship,” Echo said, remembering Bracca. “I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Rex warned me,” Cerra said. “I brought an auxiliary power unit. It doesn’t have enough juice to actually run the pod, but I can at least make sure it’ll turn on.”

She connected a cable to her small power unit, and pumped her fist in victory when the screen flickered to life.

“Wizard,” she mumbled, disconnecting the cable and immediately beginning the complicated process of uninstalling the pod. She worked in efficient silence, stopping occasionally to consult a datapad, and within an hour, they loaded the surgical pod onto the cargo floater and began their return journey to the shuttle.

“I need to make a detour,” Echo said as they approached the armory.

Cerra nodded and moved to guard the entrance, blaster ready. Echo quickly found what he was searching for, extracted it, and returned to the cargo loader. Cerra didn’t question him once he was back, merely resumed her rapid progress. With the cargo floater fully loaded, it was trickier to get out of the Venator than it had been to get in, and Cerra lost her footing, tumbling down the hull and slamming to the ground.

Echo cursed and ran to help her. “You good?”

“Yeah, all good,” she said. “Gloves are toast, though.”

She stripped off the mangled gauntlets. They had, fortunately, protected her hands from being cut when she scrambled for purchase on the jagged piles of scrap, but in their present state, they would only serve to hamper her dexterity.

“Better not fall again,” she said with a shrug.

As the shuttle came into view, Echo spotted movement and froze.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said grimly. “Scrappers have found the shuttle.”

“I guess the camouflage wasn’t as good as I thought,” Cerra said. “How many?”

“Three at least. We need to get rid of them before they call for backup.”

Cerra craned her neck to see around the pile of rubbish where they were hiding. “Damn. It’d be nice to have a sniper right about now.”

Echo chuckled drily. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Say the word, boss.”

“Go.”

They got as close as they could before they broke cover and fired on the scrappers. They stunned the three they could see, and Echo ran to secure the ship while Cerra retrieved the cargo floater. As he powered up the shuttle, he could see her running full tilt toward him, pushing the cumbersome lift ahead of her. Just when he began to think they’d managed to make a clean break, he saw a flash in his peripheral vision, and a shot blasted into the floater as a scrapper opened fire on Cerra from their vantage point inside the hulk of a derelict freighter. Cerra ducked behind the surgical pod and returned fire, and Echo ran to back her up, cursing. He laid down cover fire as she wrangled the floater up the shuttle ramp, and as soon as she slapped the control to close the ramp, he leapt back into the pilot’s seat and took off.

The shuttle jostled from the impact of blaster bolts as the scrapper continued firing, but within seconds, they were out of range. Cerra secured the cargo as Echo piloted them out of atmosphere, and as soon as they were clear of the planet’s gravity well, they jumped to hyperspace.

It was the middle of the night when they arrived at the repair shop, but Gregor was waiting on the landing platform outside the garage. As they disembarked, he sent Echo a casual salute and handed Cerra a cup of caf.

“Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite commando?” she asked, gulping the hot liquid as though it were life itself.

“I think I’m the only commando you know,” Gregor chuckled.

“Still my favorite,” she said. “Ugh, I can’t wait to shower. That planet was disgusting.”

“I’m afraid it’ll have to wait,” Rex said. “The timeline for Fireball’s extraction just got a lot tighter. We need to finalize our plan tonight and move out in the morning.”

Cerra shrugged. “Your call, Cap. You’re the one who has to smell me.”

As Cerra walked into the garage, Gregor narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re injured.”

“It’s nothing,” she said.

Echo glanced at her and realized she was hunching slightly to the side as though to protect her ribs, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. There was no blaster wound, so she must have hurt herself when she slid off the hull of the Venator. Gregor arched a disbelieving eyebrow and strode directly to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he found a small medkit.

“Let me see,” he ordered.

“Bossy,” Cerra grumbled, but she shed her jacket and sat obediently on the sofa.

Gregor peeled her shirt up her torso, and Echo turned away to give her privacy. Still, he heard Gregor’s hiss.

“Karking hell, Cerra.”

“It looks worse than it is,” she said.

“Really? Because it looks like you got drop-kicked all the way to Karthon and back. What happened?”

“I fell off a spaceship like a kriffing idiot,” she said. “Are we going to get this mission briefing started, or are we all just going to stand around yammering about nothing?”

Rex frowned. “Don’t you want to wait until Gregor finishes with the bacta?”

“I want to take a farking shower,” she snapped, and despite himself, Echo glanced at her, surprised by the sharpness in her tone.

Gregor worked quickly, but it was obvious that Cerra was in a considerable amount of pain. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and her clenched fists shook as they rested on her knees.

“Almost finished,” Gregor murmured quietly.

“Good,” she said as her voice broke.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” She merely shrugged in response, and Gregor gave her an impatient look. “I need to know if you cracked any ribs.”

“Why? Nothing you can do for that anyway,” she said.

“I can put you on light duty,” Rex said.

Cerra shot him an irate glare. “Nope, doesn’t hurt to breathe. In fact, I feel great. Never been better. Can we please, please get started?”

“Fine,” Rex sighed as he began to outline the plan of attack.

Gregor finished with the bacta as Rex spoke, then put away the medkit and quickly returned to the sofa. As he sat, he gave Cerra’s hand a little squeeze, and she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes. Echo would have thought she had fallen asleep, except she occasionally asked a clarifying question or commented on the plan.

As Rex wrapped up the briefing, he said, “It’s vital that we remove Fireball’s chip as soon as possible, so Cerra will remain here and get the surgical pod operational. Any questions?”

Gregor and Echo shook their heads. Cerra watched Rex with an unreadable expression. When nobody spoke up, Rex dismissed them all with orders to get some sleep. Gregor went to the barracks, while Echo headed for the refresher, just as desperate for a shower as Cerra. As he left, he overheard her speak to Rex in a low voice.

“Can I have a word?” she asked.

The two disappeared into the small office at the back of the garage, and Echo took the longest shower of his life, reveling in the luxury of hot water. As much of his life as he’d spent on starships, he was accustomed to the efficiency of sonic showers, but there was no way in hells that he would opt for the sonic when a real shower was available. By the time he finished, he was relaxed and bone-weary, and he headed straight for the barracks.

A low, strained conversation emanated from behind the office’s closed door. Echo didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but his cranial implant amplified Cerra and Rex’s voices as they argued.

“—can handle himself. He has more training than any of us,” Rex said.

“It’s not about his ability,” Cerra said. “It’s about keeping him alive. He’s been through enough.”

Echo slowed to a halt. Were they arguing about him? Did Cerra not think he was capable? He frowned. She hadn’t said anything during their mission to Karthon, and she’d seen him in action. He could take care of himself, and he didn’t need her interfering with Rex’s plans.

“We need his infiltration skills,” Rex said.

“Dank farrik, Rex, you saw the extent of his brain damage when AZI removed his chip. Another hit could kill him.” Cerra kept her voice down, but her distress was evident.

Gregor, Echo understood suddenly. Cerra was worried about Rex’s plan to use him on the extraction team. Echo hadn’t realized how severe the injuries hiding beneath the commando’s irreverent disposition were.

“He knows it’s dangerous,” Rex argued.

“He doesn’t care about the danger because he trusts you so much that he’ll do anything you order,” Cerra said. “Use Echo on the infil team instead. Please, Rex. He’s just as skilled as Gregor, and he’s not at risk in the same way.”

“You know Gregor will never let me ground him,” Rex said.

“I’m not asking you to ground him. I’m asking you to assign him to pilot the ship instead of being part of the extraction team.”

“Cerra, I will protect him,” Rex began.

“Like you protected Fives?” Her voice cut like a vibroblade.

Despite himself, Echo gasped. Rex was silent.

“I’m sorry,” Cerra said after a tense moment. “That was out of line.”

“No,” Rex replied. “You’re right. I’ll put Gregor on pilot duty.”

After a long pause, Cerra finally responded. “Thank you.”

Echo realized he’d been listening much longer than he’d intended to. Shaking himself, he hurried to the barracks and climbed into his bunk. It was some time before Cerra entered, and Echo assumed she must have finally gotten her shower. She moved silently through the shadowed room and climbed into her own bunk. She must have been exhausted, because within a few minutes, he could hear her breath even out as she dropped into slumber.

He was jealous of her ability to fall asleep so easily. He’d never slept well, even before Skako Minor, and his insomnia had only gotten more severe after his experience with the Techno Union’s particular brand of hospitality. Still, he must have dozed off at some point, because quite suddenly, his eyes snapped open at the sound of a distressed whimper.

The sound was barely audible. Echo probably wouldn’t have even heard it if he hadn’t been so restless already. The cry came again, muffled and indistinct, and Cerra thrashed in her bunk.

Gregor moved with such impressive stealth that Echo didn’t even realize he’d gotten up until he heard the commando quietly murmur words of comfort under his breath.

“Gregor?” Cerra asked in a hushed, broken voice.

“Shh, I’m here,” he whispered.

The bunk creaked, and Echo heard the soft rustle of bedding being rearranged.

“I’ve got you,” Gregor said softly. “You’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Cerra shuddered, and a muffled sob followed by stifled, gasping breaths rang out through the barracks. Echo could tell that she was trying to stay quiet by pressing her hands over her mouth.

“It’s all right,” Gregor soothed. “All the way out, remember? One, two, three, four, five. You’re all right, sweetheart, I have you. Now breathe in. One, two, three, four, five.”

Echo had an uncomfortable sense of voyeurism, as though he were intruding on an intensely private moment, but there was nothing to be done. Gregor continued to quietly coach Cerra until she brought her breathing under control. Once again, the barracks descended into silence, and at last, Echo fell asleep. When he awoke early the next morning, Gregor and Cerra were still curled up together in Cerra’s bunk, fast asleep. Gregor was lying, fully clothed, on top of the blanket, with Cerra’s body tucked securely against him and his arms wrapped around her.

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#captain gregor #captain rex #the bad batch echo #gregor appreciation

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