#kaasi brandy

[tiredassmage]

5,10,17 for the interview asks

who am i but a vessel to torture tyr with honesty sknlsfsldf

[oc interview questions]

5. Do you have any role models? Tell us a little bit about them.

A light chuckle tumbles from him, only partially concealed by the way a hand masks the upward tilt of his lips. Just a few. And only if you promise not to tell. The hand scrubs contemplatively against the stubble along his jaw. I’d… never admitted quite so much to the old man’s face, but ah… the Minister, Keeper… He shakes his head slightly, eyes cast to a wall behind you both - or perhaps something you can’t see. I’d always thought he was looking out for me from the start. There’s that faint smile again - only at one corner of his lips, but present all the same. For all that he called me an idealist, I don’t… I don’t believe he ever gave up on them nearly as much as he said he did. Things… Well, this business is rarely ever… Your hands don’t stay clean in this work. Ever. Both hands drop back into his lap, one toying idly with a stylus, twisting it back and forth between and over his fingers in one hand. Fingers of the other tap a pattern against his thigh. He did what he could though. I’ll… I’ll always respect him for that. He was… A lot of the agent I was - am - is his influence. I’d… never wanted to let him down, for everything… Tyr nods, mostly to himself. I… suppose I wish I’d said as much more directly, last we spoke. He puffs a faint breath of an almost-chuckle. He was a good leader. We shouldn’t have lost Intelligence. They don’t know what they lost. But… perhaps, at least, the dejarik games were enough, in the end. At least one for one of us.

10. What’s your biggest goal? How do you hope to achieve this?

This makes him frown before he rolls his jaw. His hands still. Silence for several moments. I’d like to see an end to this war, I think. As bloody unlikely as it seems. He scoffs. Irritation flashes in his pale eyes. Something more fiery than the usual stoic facade. I think I’d burn it all to the ground if I could. Maybe. He blinks, inhales carefully, and twists the stylus around his fingers again before flashing a smile - convincingly cordial, if not quite entirely reaching the corner of his eyes like before. But that’s not for polite society. And it wouldn’t do any real good, anyway. I’m getting too old for all this shit anyway, I suppose. Be a gem and buy us some drinks, why don’t you? That ought to take the edge of it off.

Still, I reckon I'll... settle for just... doing what I can. I'll never change what I was; I wouldn't want to. But I've got a lot of blood on my hands. More than enough. Still, it's given me the tools I have now. So maybe... maybe there's still enough left to actually make change. Good change. Maybe there'll be enough of this galaxy left to actually retire out of some day, eh?

17. Have you ever been in love?

A proper, hearty laugh this time, no effort given to conceal the grin across his lips. I’d certainly hope so, if I’m married. The smile turns sly. Careful, you’ll make Shan blush. Though… wouldn’t be such a shame, I suppose. He's pretty cute, you know? The ex-Cipher winks.

His head shakes slightly with his own amusement. But, yes, in short - and… several times, I suppose. I… knew a brilliant woman once, named Shara; we’d worked together, back in the day. Hard not to want to get to know someone you’ll have in your ear analyzing your every move for a couple hundred hours, I think I’d told her at least once. He leans back, a bit quieter again. A bit of distance has returned to his eyes. It was… unprofessional. She wanted nothing to do with me at first, outside of the work. Still, he smiles faintly. But it was… it was nice. We were… I guess it’s young love. Let it happen, anyway, and I… Eventually, I didn’t want to distract from her promotion; we still had to work together, of course… He shakes his head as if to clear it, though the nostalgic cock of his head suggests there’s more he’s not quite sharing. She was… brilliant. Beautiful, of course, but… a brilliant mind. And a better, sharper sense of humor than she’d ever let you claim on the job. I guess we were both like that, in a way. But, such were the demands of our work… He straightens again. Yes, in short. It’s… Not everything in this galaxy is so doomed, y’know? I… I am thankful for that much, at least.

[swtorpadawan]

Elara Dorne is just the sweetest companion 💙

[visionmarred-archive]

"lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other to the point of barely having strength enough to breathe" for Bran/Asteere??

thanks Charlie! I hope I got your girl right 🖤

lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other to the point of barely having strength enough to breathe

---

Branavio wondered, not for the first time, if it’s possible to miss another person when they aren’t even gone.

It’s an absurd notion, and he knows it. Asteere, the person in question, is right here beside him - and not only that, but it’s been a wonderful evening. It’s his goal on all of their outings to ensure that she’s having the most exquisite time she can, to make the most of each moment together that they have. Between her life in the criminal underworld and his dealings with Intelligence and the upper class of the Empire, the waiting between their time together can only be described as excruciating, and he’s always determined to make up for lost time as best he can.

Perhaps that’s where the aforementioned absurd notion originated from in the first place - that feeling that for how wonderful their time was spent together, it never felt like enough was spent. Branavio frowned briefly, trying to push the thought from his mind.

The moon they agreed to meet on was a smaller, neutral territory within hutt space. Perfectly suited for their meetings with one another, what with the few chances that there would be somebody there who would really care to see a socialite from the Empire and a criminal from the Republic together. A few credits in the right hands, and nobody paid a second thought. Throw some more credits in the right direction, and nothing was truly off-limits to the two of them.

Asteere had laughed freely throughout the more amusing anecdotes during dinner as the two caught up on what they had been doing since they’d seen each other last, grin on her face and her foot brushing against his periodically. Branavio had been unable to resist a smug grin at the disgruntled line when a handful of credits ensured they got to skip the wait at a club that Asteere had her eye on, and though there were perhaps a few too many neon lights inside for it to be his style, he couldn’t help but admit that he was very much enjoying himself.

Aside from that occasional plaguing question, of course.

Glass of brandy in hand, he’s leaning against the cantina’s bar and bringing his glass to his lips as he watches Asteere out on the dance floor. There’s an electricity, an energy to all of her actions, a jolt that reminds Branavio of life itself. Even in something as simple as a dance, she’s positively glowing in how alive she is.

When those glowing red eyes meet his and she curls her finger to beckon him from his momentary break, he discovers once more that he is ever helpless to deny her what she wants.

Throwing back what remained of his drink, Branavio could only hope that he didn’t appear too clumsy or uncouth in his eagerness to rejoin Asteere on the dancefloor - he knows that she wouldn’t care, aside from perhaps a well-meaning joke at his expense, but he is a man of the Kaasi upper circle, and he would prefer not to appear otherwise, thank you very much, however far away from Dromund Kaas they might be.

His plan had been to say something suave upon rejoining her, coyly asking if she had missed him, but Asteere’s hands were on his as soon as Branavio was close enough to reach, pulling him towards her and startling a laugh out of him. She looked altogether too pleased with herself as she placed one of his hands on her shoulder and the other on her waist, prompting him to laugh once again.

“Miss me, handsome?” Asteere grinned, glowing red eyes meeting his own green ones, and Branavio couldn’t help but smile - leave it to her to steal what he himself had meant to say, and pull it off better. Given how they’d first met, though, he really had no business being surprised.

Asteere wrapped her arms around his neck, and they began moving to the music, Branavio humming along to the tune without thinking much about it. It was a faster paced song, but their movements were slower than the crowd around them. His hand moved from his shoulder to her face, a smile on his lips as his thumb caressed the freckles on her cheeks.

“I always do, my star.” He leaned down, pressing a slow, somewhat teasing kiss to her cheek. “My galaxy.” Another kiss. “My everything.”

Asteere looked up at him, grin fading into something softer, gentler, and it was that moment that Branavio realized - pang of hurt in his chest - what it meant to miss her even though she was still there. He leaned down to properly kiss her this time, and she responded in kind, feeling a pleased noise against his mouth as he deepened the kiss.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Branavio knew all too well that this wouldn’t - couldn’t - last. There was a limit to their time together, invisible though it was, and though he hoped it was far away, he knew it was there, looming and promising to tear them apart. And wasn’t it inevitable? They came from two different worlds, after all.

A handful of perfect moments would never be enough to sate just how deeply Branavio longed to be with Asteere.

Asteere was the one to break away from the kiss that Branavio had hoped to lose himself in, even for a moment. Forehead pressed against his, she was somewhat breathless as she spoke. “You okay?”

Branavio ran his fingers through her blue hair, plastering on a smile for her sake as he closed his eyes. “You’re here, aren’t you?” he asked softly. “I’ve never been better.”

[lavampira]

some thoughts about thalia:

she is an ascendancy-imperial double agent. this leads to situations she doesn’t particularly want to be involved, but does for the sake of letting her ascendancy superiors know what kind of fuckery the empire is up to at all times, because the ends justifies the means, duty for her people over self interests, etc.

(unfortunately that means she temporarily became the hand of jadus because operating that close to a dark council member — even one gone rogue — was a prime opportunity, even if she has a difficult time looking herself in the mirror most days because of it)

her official title is cipher seven. she’s catalogued in sis intel as ‘spectre’ because not a single person has been able to catch her, only the aftermath of her missions, and even then, she doesn’t leave a trail. she’s there, she snipes, she’s gone. like a ghost.

she swoops into the position to head sith intelligence when cipher nine disappears until darth marr puts lana in charge. what the fuck.

after adjusting to the rain and humidity, she finds dromund kaas comfortable enough as a home. she adores staying in her kaas city apartment with a balcony that overlooks the other high rises and watching lightning strike the tall spires. she also keeps a bottle of kaasi brandy in her desk at the intelligence headquarters.

[autisticlaezel]

5 and 20 for athamew? 🤔

Thanks Dani :D

5. Guilty pleasures

Anything that reminds him of home, really. Kaasi brandy, that one dish his aunt used to make when he and his sisters were staying with her, the one song he used to hear playing on repeat through the wall that he and Marley shared as a child.

On a less serious note, he really likes speeders, but he doesn’t want to admit it because he feels like it’s a kind of douche-y thing to be into?? But he thinks they’re neat, he has a small collection and he relaxes by doing upkeep on them.

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I have two Alternate Timelines for Athamew. One where he doesn’t defect in spite of his wish to and one where he’s the smuggler

The one where he stays in the Empire is unsurprisingly not a very happy one. He joins the military as his parents before him. He’s stationed on Hoth, he’s not very enthusiastic and avoids confrontation and ends up cannon fodder in an attack against the Republic.

The one where he’s the smuggler is a much happier one. While he still has a guilt complex the size of fucking Iokath, he gets to be surrounded by friends and loved ones much earlier than he does in my canon. While he’s generally the same person as he is in his original timeline, he does learn to stand up for himself a bit more by being around Risha and Akaavi and Bowdaar.

[fancyfade]

[image description: a fanart of Tank ( a buff republic trooper twilek with red skin and tattoos) and Elara Dorne (a human woman with an oval shaped face, shoulder length blond hair, and pale skin). They are both sitting on the Trooper’s ship (the thunderclap i think?) on some seats near a dejarik table, and both of them are dressed in casual clothes (tank is wearing a sleeveless shirt and black gym shorts, and elara is wearing white pants and a white undershirt with a green t shirt). they are smiling at each other, and tank is holding a mug in her hand while elara holds a glass. on the dejarik table in front of them is a bottle of alcohol. end image]

got tank and elara drink the kaasi brandi done.

i had them be pretty casual because i figured, hey, they’re staying in, they don’t need to be super fancy. plus, they need a chance to relax anyway. im also not sure they’d have fancy wine glasses or w/e, hence the regular cups. OTOH maybe elara would’ve bought some but its too late to change that now

elara’s outfit is inspired by her taris outfit - i just removed the vest so it looked like regular clothes

they’re drinking around the dejarik table because fun fact: i looked all over republic trooper’s ship and could not for the life of me find an eating area

[tiredassmage]

something something, back to the beginning with 7.5, something something spend nearly half your life doing something, something memories, something totally probably not at all actually related to the plot of the patch, but something something excuse for me to write cheesy flirt lines-- self-indulgent as hell little brainworm of an exchange that may or may not actually happen but i sure as hell had fun putting tyr through it xD loosely inspired by the premise of returning to hutta for 7.5 and name-dropping one of the new characters, so technically some kind of spoilers but. obvs we don't know much and this is just. deeply, deeply self-indulgent fun on my part for now, lol. [but that kind of stuff is under the cut, if that is important to your reading choices <3]

“We have been to Hutta before,” Vector recalls. They step up to the agent’s shoulder as Tyr leans into the doorway, cocking one foot over the other.

Tyr grunts, “Somehow.., I’m inclined to doubt much has changed in…” A grimace starts to pull the agent’s features tighter around his eyes, as if counting the years might make the aches settle deeper. “Oh, twenty years, almost.., isn’t it?”

Vector hums thoughtfully. “Much has changed, agent,” they remind gently, “But… not so much, all the same, we concur.” They watch the agent’s eyes scan the distant swamp for a moment, noting the restless toy of his hands along the fit sleeves of the overcoat he wears.

They recall a saying on the ways of old habits…

“We suppose not all things can improve with age.”

A sharp, loud huff leaves their companion. Vector begins to smile. It’s enough to still Tyr’s hands - they instead fold together across his waist, supporting the agent’s lean. Out of the corner of their eyes, Tyr’s own narrow as they turn on him, mockingly accusatory.

“Vector Hyllus… I’m going to assume good faith.”

“Of course, agent,” they reply. Their smile widens under the mounting suspicion. “We have known plenty to admire a fine vintage.”

Tyr doesn’t quite manage to choke back a bark of laughter beneath a hand flying up to his mouth, nor does it entirely conceal his smile and the brush of color that enters his cheeks. Vector mercifully turns their eyes back out to the smog-hugged buildings awaiting them. Shortly, Tyr clears his throat. “You know I prefer Kaasi brandy myself.”

“Of course. You’ve always had a most enlightening taste, agent.”

Tyr coughs lightly and shakes his head. “Ah… right. So.”

“So,” Vector allows. “We… are not familiar with this… ‘Yusinduu,’ agent. It will be our first time in the district.”

“Right.” And just like that, a familiar lighting bolt clarity clears Tyr’s eyes. He pushes off from the doorway and waves Vector down the ramp with him, sweeping his jacket over the holsters at his hips. “Stay close, for now. If Hutts are reliable for anything, it’s an eye for profitable motives-”

Even that brief smile was well worth the diversion. They follow after the Commander, tucking their hands into their pockets.

“Do you think there is any relation, agent?”

Tyr begins to frown - a familiar brush of durasteel and the first gasp of rain-heavy air from the horizon. “I wouldn’t be surprised in the least,” he says.

His eyes skim the edges of the streets over Vector’s shoulders. “You know, I think you owe me a drink-” A cover for the agent’s sentiment to find a place to observe the local hum.

He claps a hand to Vector’s shoulder with a grin, eyes clear of the aged rhythms thrumming in battle-tested veins, no doubt. His fingers squeeze carefully around their shoulder and his voice drops for only a moment, “If I know anything about Hutta, it’s that we’re all good for someone… for the right price.” Stay close. Stay vigilant.

Tyr’s eyes face forward again, easily slipping through unfamiliar streets - enough heaviness in forward steps to keep their path clear and draw only the barest of curious glances. New faces on Hutt-controlled streets aren't uncommon. Nine wants them just under the radar. For now.

“Let’s see who we should be today, hm?”

[tiredassmage]

from the 25 questions post, let's have 1, 7, annnd 14 for trooper!Tyr :)

[25 Character Questions for the Writer] Kicks my feet! Thank you for indulging me. x3

1 - What is your character's favorite food and why?

Keep your high-rated restaurants and meticulously planned dates. Tyr is scouring the streets for the corner food truck selling fried kebabs and greased concoctions. And Elara has, unfortunately, hooked him on Kaasi brandy. She’s taken to smacking him on the shoulder when he breaks out a bottle from Force-knows-not what sources, but it certainly must be to his fancy for him to risk potentially trading with Imperial interests even by proxy or distantly.

Street vendors range from some of the best food you can find this side of the Hydian Way to downright ireputable, and Tyr would like to think many years running past a fair lot of them back and forth to work before his official days in service to the Republic has given him an alright enough eye to discern what you’re looking for. Point him at something with a bit of spice or heat, or a truck with smoke pluming out the side, and he’s going to be eyeing that menu. Leave no stone unturned. The strongest of his cravings would prefer a spot that forgoes such nuisances as cutlery. Dig in with your hands or it’s just not the right stuff.

As for why? It's relatively universal, and a mash of familiar comforts and whatever might be local. It's a bit of an adventure. And Tyr, admittedly, probably doesn't realize that he likes the adrenaline of such. xD

[And now the rest are about to give me lots of emotions below klsnflsdfs]

7 - What does your character miss the most?

Honestly? I think he misses that exhausted look his mother used to give him… a lot. Because he was… a bit of a handful. They moved around a lot, bouncing from job to job - sometimes world to world - for his mother as she could find employment after the nebulous hole his father left behind in their lives (she’d never talk about it, never tell him more than the man was never present, and he didn’t need to be).

As… tends to happen, her rambunctious teen of a son often told her she worried too much, and gave her the crooked smile to match. Yes, even the day she found out he’d been illegally racing swoopbikes for months without telling her.

He promised he’d stay in touch when he up and enlisted with the Republic SIS. He’s kept sending her parts of his paychecks for years now, but getting into SpecForces put strain on a somewhat already burdened relationship. There’s times he misses coming home with his busted lip and scuffed up knees because he got in the way of the wrong type of crowd trying to make it home from the mechanic’s shop or the tracks, the way she’d tilt his head up and click her tongue in disapproval at him before setting their meager dinner preparations aside to clean him up. It was a gentle and stinging love, all at once. She’d always tell him he was going to get in over his head someday.

I think a part of him sometimes wishes he could tell her, you were right, ma. And it sucks. He’s not… very sure of the man he’s grown into. But his mother's love was unconditional still, despite their imperfections. And he's not entirely lost a younger boy's longing for the galaxy to just make sense. And to be told it's all going to be alright.

14 - Who would your character never betray?

Ough, loredumping warning because this is. This one's got a bit of a loaded answer.

It’s a bit of a contradictory answer, but his core teammates of Havoc Squad come to mean a lot to him. Hyroh (@exeuntlegacy ehehehe new blog tag new blog tag) and Aric have been by his side from the beginning and Elara quickly finds a place among the boys. Even if they drive her to wit’s end sometimes. [Please send her some brandy and maybe get her a raise. She’s dealing with far too much of Their Shit sometimes.]

In short, it’s contradictory because he does, technically, start out betraying all of them before he even knows them. As a plant from the SIS in SpecForce to investigate Garza’s command and rumors of SpecForce defections, and given the two departments’ notorious mistrust for one another, the news does… not go well when Tyr pipes up and reveals the truth about his recruitment to the squad and the general after trading information about Havoc’s reason for being on Nar Shadaa freely with their contact there, SIS Agent Jonas Balkar.

But what follows over the next several years of their continued service together in Havoc is admittedly a roller coaster. There’s some highs in their victories, and there’s some definite lows and fuck-ups on Tyr’s part as a young and relatively inexperienced commanding officer - one of them is, indeed, being a once-SIS plant. But ultimately, Tyr’s left to his place in Havoc by the SIS because the squad’s already in a bad way and by General Garza because Tyr, while he says he won’t fight the general if she wants to strip his rank and position in Havoc and SpecForce entirely, does make a fair argument that she’ll only make more problems for herself, and kicking him out will only draw attention and detract from the hunt for Tavus.

Again, not all of this pleases his squadmates. But they don’t ever entirely give up on him in… a way the SIS seems to. He’s cut loose, essentially, traded over to actually fully live in his position with Havoc. And that stings a little, honestly.

Tyr manages to piss off Hyroh several times. Tyr fucks up, really. They have different opinions because of their exposures to the galaxy, to the Republic’s underbelly and its flaws. Tyr’s a bright-eyed idealist and, early on, pretty damn loyal to it to actual fault. Hyroh actually breaks his nose over it when Tyr puts a blaster bolt through Tavus. And, with time, Tyr eventually recognizes he… deserved that, more than likely. [In time, Tyr will express this as a badge of honor, much to Hyroh's embarrassment.]

Aric and him go… a bit back and forth. Jorgan’s a more experienced soldier, a more experienced leader, and in a way scruffs his new Lieutenant carefully by his little scarves and tries to teach him the ropes as best he can because they might as well try not to get each other killed. Tyr’s an alright kid, he’s just. Inexperienced. An idealist. Aric doesn’t like the truth that he’s an SIS spy, but they smooth things out, eventually. They come back around. Havoc’s really the only place left that Tyr has to hold to at that point. The SIS has left him, Garza’s been successfully pissed off that the SIS went around her. He’s really got no choice but to try to work through it with the rest of them. And, despite the initial blow up, Tyr tries. He does. Genuinely. He learns. And Jorgan can’t hold that against him. And he makes Hyroh happy. That’s… still his younger brother, even if their relationship is… only sort of on the mend, at that point.

And Elara is perhaps the most steadfast of his supporters. Her line of, “I’ve always preferred hard truths to easy lies,” really shows up for him. It’s unsettling, sure, but she recognizes it must have taken a lot for Tyr to come forward with his SIS ties willingly, without official orders from his superiors to do so. While she’s less actively a teacher to him, he does learn a lot from her. And, admittedly, he had his reservations at first, her being a former Imperial. But she doesn’t ever let him down. So, the three of them in particular. The rest of the squad, he’s more distant with but, by the end of things, Tyr learns a lot about how you count on the people actively beside you. He learns kinda what drove Tavus to act as he did, even if its several years too late and after he’s gotten a lot of blood on his hands about it. Havoc's not afraid to challenge him when he’s in the wrong. But they haven’t abandoned him, either. He’s made a lot of fucking mistakes along the way. He has. Maybe he doesn’t really deserve their faith in him, but… to Havoc Squad. Whatever this galaxy throws their way, he intends to do his damned best to see them through it together.

This is all sealed particularly by their experiences together on Oricon as part of the wildly under-prepared rescue operation for the forces the Republic had already lost on the planet and then getting roped into fighting the Revanites alongside Theron Shan and Lana Beniko. Tyr's realization of the... kind of systematic flaws in their operations for the Republic, and the Republic's handling of such operations overall is... a kind of gradual and building experience - something Hyroh and Aric, especially, are familiar with well before Tyr has entirely grappled with that particular serpent. So it's... all the more of a statement to him that they never cast him out.

They get real damn begrudging sometimes, lol. Sometimes it's a bit like, how many times must we teach you this lesson, young man? But. Y'know. What's family if you don't occasionally squabble about ideals and execution, I guess?

[swtorpadawan]

🩺, 🎁 and 🥦 ! ^_^

Thanks for the asks, @mercurypilgrim !

From OC Questions

Answering for Corellan Halcyon.

🩺 - Does your OC accept help easily? Are they willing to admit when they need help?

To the first question - yes. Corellan isn't prideful about most things, and is more than willing to accept specialized help when offered. A key example came on Voss when he effectively teamed with Tala-Reh.

To the second question - a lot of times, no. Corellan sometimes doesn't recognize when he needs help, even when its just to talk things out with someone. This wasn't a problem with the support system of his crew around him, but it became an issue in the Alliance. The biggest example came after he beat Valkorion, but didn't confide in the any of his friends that he was in pretty rough shape. This is something i plan on exploring further.

🎁 - What kind of gift-giver are they? Do they give thoughtful gifts? Expensive gifts? Practical gifts?

He's getting better! Jedi aren't huge gift-givers, but Corellan has a sentimental streak. He tries to give out gifts that the individual would appreciate. He gave Lana a bottle of expensive Kaasi Brandy - which was her favorite liquor - during a conversation after they won. She was surprised he even knew her preference. (In point of fact, Teeseven tipped him off.) Corellan has an excellent memory but relies on others to help him pick out gifts.

🥦 - Does your OC eat healthily or live off junk food?

He normally eats healthy. C2-N2 regulated everyone's diets on the ship. Occasionally his friends get him to indulge in something, but its usually a social thing.

Thanks again for the asks!

[swtorpadawan]

SWTOR Headcanon : Elara Dorne & Anri - The Best of Frenemies

My headcanon for the Halcyon Legacy deviates vastly after Knights of the Eternal Throne.

For one thing - the entire Traitor storyline is just... no. No, thank you.

Having said that, there WAS an 'incident' on Iokath involving a three-way standoff between the Alliance, the Empire and the Republic. Rather than being the complete cluster-fuck where everyone acted crazy, Corellan was able to negotiate a cease-fire, then maintained the Alliance's sovereignty over Iokath. (And I didn't even need to do a Walker mission.)

As part of this cease-fire, both the Republic and the Empire sent official ‘emissaries’ to the Alliance. Considering the Alliance doesn't really have much use for diplomats, both factions send individuals who were highly skilled field operatives. The Republic sends Elara Dorne while the Empire sends Major Anri.

Considering that most of her old squad is already in the Alliance, Elara fits in rather easily, with Illaynah Antilles reforming Havoc Squad. (Fuse effectively replaces Tanno Vik. Yay!) Eventually, Elara and Illaynah realize they've had feelings for each other for years, and start a relationship.

Anri also adapts quickly, demonstrating her obvious skills. (Most of the Alliance seem to be fighter types with everone just pitching in to do other tasks.)

So both make relatively seamless transitions to living amongst the Alliance, only occasionally needing to actually represent their faction's interests in meetings.

Of course, since their factions are still hostile at each other, both women immediately distrust eachother, immensely. The tension is palpable.

Both of them try to spy on each other. Both of them are passive-aggressive with eachother. Both try to undermine the other, but are far too professional to compromise an Alliance operation in their execution. They are a strange combination - the Imperial who became the most patriotic soldier in the Republic, and the Twi'lek slave who became a decorated Imperial commando.

Then one day, they are both on a mission and get stuck in a tight spot. Together. Despite being pinned down and badly outnumbered, they pull through.

After that, things change between them. They commiserate about their respective pasts over a bottle of Kaasi Brandy. Turns out Elara knew Anri's old abusive "master", and his conduct was one of the reasons she defected in the first place.

Ultimately, they become friends.

(No, i don't ship them. I ship Elara with Illaynah Antilles, my Trooper, and Anri... well, that's a complicated matter.)

But, yeah. I like the idea of the enemies-to-friends dynamic between them.  

[swtorpadawan]

Tales from the Eternal Alliance: A Simple Choice - Chapter 2

(For Chapter 1, click here.)

Lana Beniko watched in cool contemplation as Corellan Halcyon, the Commander of the Eternal Alliance, warmly exchanged parting pleasantries with Senya Tirall and her son, Arcann, in the war room of the Alliance base on Odessen. The Commander was seeing the two Zakuulans off, as they were departing on a relief mission to Voss. That neutral world had been devastated by Vaylin during the war, and all in the effort to slay her mother and brother. This left the duo well-suited for the mission and highly committed to the task; the Voss people believed in balance above all else. It was ideal that the Alliance respect that belief by sending those who had drawn Vaylin’s eye to their world in the first place to assist in their recovery.

Lana’s eyes narrowed slightly as the Commander gently reached out and grasped Arcann’s shoulder in a comradely gesture of affection. Corellan Halcyon was naturally friendly and amicable with his people; this, Lana was perfectly aware of. Nevertheless, she was less than comfortable with his familiarity with the former Emperor.

As Senya and Arcann walked past her, Lana exchanged a friendly nod and smile with the Zakuulan Knight. Senya and Lana had been friends for some time, indeed, since long before Lana and her allies had rescued Corellan from Zakuul, thus triggering the rebellion and the formation of the Alliance. Although Senya was several years older than Lana, both women often provided the voice of “pragmatic maturity” amongst those who advised the Commander, sometimes in contrast to what Lana felt could be Theron Shan’s “reckless optimism” or Koth Vortena’s naivete. And, on a more personal level, she valued Senya’s company and friendship. Lana did not count many people as personal friends, after all.  

That sentiment hadn’t stopped Lana from advising the Commander to kill Senya and Arcann if given the opportunity when it appeared that Senya intended to see her son escape justice after the Commander had toppled him from power.

Corellan had made a different choice, of course. And he’d been proven right. Senya had ultimately rejoined the Alliance alongside a reformed Arcann, and together they had eventually taken down first Vaylin and finally Valkorian. The mother and son had unquestionably become two of the Commander’s most powerful allies.  

And perhaps, two of his closest companions. The Commander had invested a considerable portion of his scant free time to Arcann, and the two warriors could often be seen speaking quietly together around the base or even more often sparring in the training ring. Senya, for her part, had taken an active interest in drawing the Commander out from the fugue that seemed to have come over him these last few weeks. Lana and Senya had spoken at length of what might have befallen the former Jedi in that finally battle with Valkorion. Even Senya, who had been present in Corellan’s mind at the time, didn’t have the answers, but she seemed determined to help him recover. For the moment, Lana was comfortable allowing her to take the lead.

Publicly, the Commander was still a rock. A pillar. A paragon. He went about his duties with the same stoic determination he had always shown. Privately, Lana and others close to him were concerned that he seemed… restless. She was relieved that he had been keeping Teeseven, his loyal astromech droid, by his side almost constantly since Zakuul.  

As the two departed, Lana repressed a shudder at the memory of her advice to the Commander. For once, she was relieved that he hadn’t acted on her counsel. Lana continued to enjoy Senya’s friendship, even if she still found it difficult to trust her son.

With the main hub of the war room now relatively quiet, Lana stepped forward to where Corellan was reviewing a list of incoming messages with Vette, their Twi’lek professional thief turned communications specialist. Theron was out on assignment, checking in with some of his old underworld contacts, so things were relatively quiet today.

“Commander… might I ask you a personal question?” Lana finally said.

Corellan looked up from Vette’s datapad, smiling pleasantly as usual. “Of course, Lana. What is it?”

Lana pressed her lips together. She (almost) never questioned the Commander in public, but Teeseven and Vette were both safe enough and everyone else in the room was busy with their own duties. Nevertheless, she spoke quietly, her voice just above a whisper.

“Why did you take the risk of allowing Arcann to join the Alliance?” Lana finally asked the question that had been nagging at her for weeks, now.

The Commander stood stoically as he listened to her question. The smile had faded from his lips, but he otherwise gave nothing away. Indeed, Lana knew he was rather skilled at guarding his reactions, an attribute that she’d assumed was a legacy of his old Jedi training. Corellan’s pale blue eyes gave little away, and he seemed to be looking almost past Lana. Several seconds passed before he seemed to come to a decision on how to respond to her inquiry.  

Finally, he turned towards Vette, having made a choice.

“Vette, could you and Teeseven watch over everything here for a while? I think Lana and I need to go off duty for a bit.”

Vette beamed cheerfully, pleased to be trusted with the responsibility. “Sure thing, Commander. Tee and I can hold down the fort.”

The little astromech droid quietly observed the proceedings but said nothing.

“Thank you.” Corellan replied, regaining his confident smile. “Comm us if any emergencies pop up.”

He then turned back to Lana.

“Lana, follow me, won’t you?”

  Lana followed Corellan out of the war room and up the lift to the base’s main observation deck. From there, it was a short walk over to the cantina, which was inevitably the heart of social life on Odessen. True, there were mess halls and other gathering areas, but the cantina was where the people of the Alliance came to relax among their fellow personnel while off-duty. They met, chatted, gossiped, played, blew off steam, and occasionally engaged in romantic trysts with each other. The celebration when they had returned from Zakuul victorious at the war’s end had lasted all through the night until the following morning.

The cantina jukebox was playing the now-familiar Huttese song, Kayfoundo Naweea, in the background. It seemed to have become an Alliance favorite. Privately, Lana loathed the tune. Despite years of effort, her Huttese was still weak, and while she understood the words to this track well enough by now, the sound was still grating to her ears.

The presence of the Commander, as usual, elicited several glances and quiet whispers from those present. And as usual, Corellan appeared not to notice, simply approaching the bar.

The bartender on duty, a bear of a man named Rex, grinned as he stood up straight and saluted the Commander. “Boss! How goes? What’ll ya have?” Rex had been a veteran Republic soldier before joining the Alliance. After his injuries fighting Vaylin’s forces on Odessen had left him unfit for further combat, the man had retired from active duty, but chose to stay on with the Alliance to tend bar in the cantina. Lana recalled that Rex had briefly met the Commander on Balmorra many years ago, an experience that made joining the Alliance a simple choice for him in the first place.

“It goes well, Rex.” Corellan smiled pleasantly, as he did with almost everyone. He reached into the pocket on his belt and pulled out a high-denomination credit chip, laying it down on the counter. “Could I trouble you for a bottle of Kaasi Brandy, and two glasses? Hold the ice.”

Rex’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Corellan rarely drank, and then only socially. Even then, he normally chose lighter beverages. Clearly, Rex was impressed that the Commander had even heard of the liquor, which was considered a luxury good here on Odessen even with nominal trade with the Sith Empire. Lana struggled not to mirror the surprise on Rex’s face.

Whatever he wants to tell me must be serious.

“Coming right up, Commander.” the bartender answered with a certain enthusiasm. A moment later, the expensive and unopened bottle was produced, along with the two glasses. “Anything else?”

Corellan shook his head. “Just a bit of privacy. Thanks, Rex.”

The bartender nodded again in the sage understanding his profession was known for, taking up the credit chip from the bar. Then he turned away, returning to his duties.

Corellan took the bottle and glasses, leading Lana to the small table in the dark corner of the cantina. From here, they could speak in relative privacy. Much to Lana’s relief, the jukebox had mercifully started playing a different song, and thus the background noise from around the Cantina soon became much more bearable.

The Commander said nothing, letting Lana sit first before taking his own seat opposite her. He sat at an angle, something of a slouch, really. Lana frowned a bit while observing that. Corellan Halcyon rarely sat down; he was almost always in motion, and he was quite capable of standing for hours on end without complaint. But on those occasions when he did sit, she had noticed he tended to do so at this angle. The droop contrasted starkly with everything else she had ever observed about his personality. Simply put, Corellan Halcyon was not the kind of man who one would expect to slouch.

Something else I still haven’t puzzled out about him.

He set down the bottle and the glasses, carefully breaking the seal before finally opening it. He poured a glass and slid it across the table in Lana’s direction before pouring his own. Lana was surprised at the care he took; not a drop of liquor spilled to the table, and the amount of drink in both glasses appeared identical. Clearly, he had observed Rex and other skilled bartenders do this sort of thing. Corellan had a talent for picking up and mimicking the mannerisms and body movements of others, both in combat their maneuvers and in everyday actions.

Lana had seen Corellan drink before. At the party celebrating the Alliance’s formation. After the Commander had defeated Arcann on his flagship. She had missed seeing him at the celebration after Zakuul where she understood he had had far too many drinks at the prompting of Kaliyo Djannis before Senya had rescued him from that situation. But in all their months of working together, they had never actually ‘had drinks’ together.

Only when he was done did Corellan take his drink in his hand and raise it to Lana.

“To a moment’s respite.” He looked at Lana sincerely.

Lana raised her glass hesitantly, tapping the Commander’s own upraised glass with a brief clink sound. He waited for her to take a sip first before tasting it himself. Lana savored the taste of the fine liquor, but she was far more interested in Corellan’s reaction.

The Commander had closed his eyes as he tasted the drink before placing the glass back down. His face was mostly impassive, but his head tilted slightly in contemplation. He slowly exhaled, then finally opened his eyes again, favoring Lana with a slight nod.

“Smooth. Sweet and yet subtle. I see why you favor this stuff.”

He’s never tried it before. How did he know that Kaasi Brandy is one of my favorites? Lana silently asked herself.

“I do.” She confirmed aloud, still regarding him intently.

In response, the Commander simply stared into his glass in front of him as it sat on the table.

“There are a number of answers I could give to your question.” He said quietly. “But this is the one I will share with you.”

Another pause.

“Have I ever told you about the first time I fought the Emperor?”

That question startled Lana. She didn’t need to ask who the Commander was referring to. It clearly was not a reference to Arcann.

Tenebrae. Vitiate. Valkorion. That ancient evil had plagued the entire galaxy for more than a millennium. The entity who had ruled both the Sith Empire and Zakuul for years without either of them being the wiser. He had finally met his end at the hands of Corellan Halcyon, much to the relief of everyone.    

Lana considered her response carefully. “I know he defeated you and the other Jedi who attacked him at his Fortress, his orbital space station.” She paused. “And that he held you prisoner there for several months.”

Corellan nodded, still not looking away from his glass. “Yes. Most people think that was the first time I fought against him. But its not so.”

Very cautiously, Lana reached out to the Commander through the Force. She was first alarmed that his defenses felt so weak. Open, even. What worried her even more was the melancholy that seemed to permeate him. Whatever had happened to him in that final battle with Valkorion, whatever trauma he had suffered, was now being aggravated by some dark memory from his past. To those closest to the Commander, it was no secret that something had clearly been plaguing him since he had taken the Eternal Throne. Whatever it was had obviously been heavily repressed with determination and sheer force of will. He refused to show weakness, not even to those who, like Lana, he’d spent a great deal of his time with. He was simply… troubled. Listless. Distracted. He seemed more sentimental about his past. His conversation with Ranna Tao’ven by holo a few days ago had only highlighted this reality in Lana’s mind, though she was relieved that it seemed to have cheered him up for a while.

Every time she’d asked him if he was alright, he would simply insist that he was fine.

He spent five years in carbonite with Valkorion haunting his dreams. Then I freed him, and we were suddenly on the run from Arcann’s forces. Then right after he was almost killed on Asylum, I all but forced him to take command of the Alliance. Then we spent months fighting a war that involved him in almost constant combat on so many worlds. In the process he was compelled to change his entire approach to the Force almost on the fly. Then the former Chancellor of the Republic – a Republic he once swore to serve and for whom he was their greatest hero – tried to assassinate him. Then he faced Valkorion, barely emerging victorious, and this resulting in the destruction of the millennia-old demigod within his mind.  

Of course, he is not ‘fine’. How could he be? And how much of the responsibility for that falls on me? Lana asked herself.

The Commander continued even while Lana deliberated.

“Some months before we attacked his Fortress, the Emperor tried to kill me… through one of his Children.”

Lana suppressed an inward shiver at that word. Years ago, the Children of the Emperor had been a group of Sith taken as infants and subjected to Vitiate’s dark rituals. Each had been imbued with a portion of his power so they could serve as his eyes, ears, and, when needed, his weapons. Worse still, they were all but undetectable as Force users, even to powerful Sith and Jedi alike. Even for the Dark Council and other high-ranking Sith throughout the Empire, the Children had been secretive; all but unknown. The Emperor never saw fit to reveal them to most of his followers. It was generally understood that the Children were acting as spies within the Republic, passing along intelligence and performing sabotage and assassination missions as needed. But that was as much as anyone knew. Some Dark Lords assumed that the Emperor kept the identities of the Children a closely guarded secret so he could use them to spy on his own supporters.

The modern Empire, free of Vitiate’s control, believed the Children had been wiped out by the time of his return on Yavin at the end of the Revanite crisis. When Lana had served as the Minister of Sith Intelligence, she had dedicated what resources she could to confirming (or disproving) this assertion. She had her suspicions but had found little evidence to prove their continued existence.

“He sent an assassin after you.” Lana didn’t bother phrasing it as a question. She finished her brandy, downing the remnant in one gulp. Corellan took up the bottle again and refilled her glass without hesitation, pausing his tale before continuing.

“In a manner of speaking.” He looked wistful. “I had defeated one of his plots – another of his cat’s paws – when she struck. He spoke to me directly through her. In his actual voice. He told me he saw… futures in me that he wouldn’t allow. He recognized that I might become a threat to him. Then he attacked. We fought. It was a hard fight, but I prevailed.”

The Commander paused, taking another small sip of his drink. Lana noted he was still nursing it slowly.

“Then he tried channeling even more power through the Child. Enough to destroy the ship we were on. He was ready to sacrifice her in order to kill me.”

Lana began on her second drink, musing that over. “You obviously escaped.”

“No.” he answered quietly. “She broke free.”

Lana nearly spat out the brandy in her mouth. She grasped the table for support as she stifled a coughing fit, finally swallowing the liquid down. It took her a moment to regain her breath.

“What.” Lana finally managed, recovering.

Corellan showed no other reaction to Lana’s coughing. He looked past her, as if off in the distance.

“She broke free.” He repeated the words. “She realized that the Emperor wasn’t simply willing to sacrifice her life to destroy me. He was also willing to obliterate her own sense of identity, the person who she was. You understand?” he exhaled slowly. “And she refused to let him. She rejected him. She purged herself of his mark completely.”

“How?” Lana was incredulous.

Corellan was still looking past her, but with a wistful smile.

“In a sheer act of will, she embraced the light. She burned him right out of her mind.” He paused, his eyes almost sparkling. “You should have seen it, Lana. It was more than incredible. It was… glorious. The light side so rarely manifests itself like that. Directly, I mean. Watching her free herself was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

The Commander sighed at the memory, then sipped his drink again. Lana found herself completely caught up in his tale. She had never heard him talk like this.

“Afterwards, of course, it made me overconfident. Arrogant. I didn’t think twice about joining in with Tol Braga’s plan. And that mistake nearly cost me everything.”

He was still looking away from her, but she could feel the regret in his voice. That was as troubling as anything else. Corellan didn’t normally linger overly long on his decisions. He made them – right or wrong – then he learned from them and moved on. But this one mistake, she could tell, still lingered with him years later.

If she hadn’t been watching him intently, she’d have missed the troubled flicker in his eyes. It was pain.

Since she had freed him almost a year before, Lana had stood at the Commander’s side virtually every day for hours on end. Both in the field, in battle and through countless operational planning meetings at the base. Surely, by now, she should know him as well as anyone. But even now, after everything they had been through, she realized that she had barely scratched the surface.

“The point is I learned two things that day, Lana. First, I learned then that he could be beaten. And second, that the people who had fallen under his influence were worth saving if I could.”

“Once I accepted those truths, giving Arcann a chance became a simple choice.”

“You can’t help everyone he ever harmed.” Lana retorted.

“You’re right.” The Commander said quietly. “But I can try.” There was a sincere look of optimism in his smile, a faint glimmer of hope amidst a sea of pain.

Lana exhaled slowly then polished off her second glass. Without even looking, Corellan poured her a third. Lana regarded the glass, then looked back up at the Commander.

“Whatever happened to this Child who freed herself?”

His response was crisp and short.

“She became a Jedi.”

Lana pursed her lips, realizing she was on delicate ground here. “Is she still alive?” She recalled the Jedi had suffered severe casualties opposing the Eternal Empire during the initial invasion.

“As far as I know.” He answered. There was a pained finality in his tone.

What is he keeping from me?

Corellan finally refocused his eyes on her, for the first time in what seemed like minutes.

“But even if she didn’t survive, then at least she died free of him.”

He finally polished off his drink, then stood up. She could feel the pain within him start to fade and dull. She hoped it was more from their talk than from the alcohol.

He turned to her.

“Lana, I realize it’s not always easy following someone like me. Doing what I do, the choices I make… I know it’s not always pragmatic. Or obviously logical. Sometimes I can’t even properly explain my decisions. I know I haven’t always been able to follow your advice. I know there are challenges in trying to run this operation based on my principles. But they are all I have.”

He seemed to have collected himself. Once more, his armor was back on. He was the Commander again.

“Know that I will always value your counsel, Lana, and the work you do. I never could have made it this far without you.”

He crossed an arm across his chest and bowed to her then, showing the same form he’d used back when he was a Jedi. Lana found it touching; between the alcohol and his words, a warm feeling formed in her belly.

He rose again, then turned to leave.

“Keep the bottle as a gift. I don’t need it.”

Lana watched him depart. She wasn’t sure about that one, but she was relieved that whatever that pain she had felt was, he seemed determined not to rely on alcohol to treat it.

She stood up, taking the bottle with her. This wasn’t the end of it, she knew. But she was satisfied with letting Senya try to deal with it first.

For now.

 Author’s Notes: Okay, so I cheated a bit on this one, as it doesn’t really focus on Arcann. But one of my main goals of this series was to explore Corellan’s motivations for choosing to help Arcann. So, this chapter involved an event from Corellan’s past. I promise future chapters will focus on everyone’s favorite former Emperor, and his kick-ass mother. Corellan, meanwhile, may be a paragon of nobility, but he can be a jerk with his friends sometimes, especially when he’s damaged. There are ways in which he defines allies, friends, companions and even family that he needs to work through.

Kaasi Brandy is a real thing in the game. If you play the Trooper campaign, Elara Dorne gives you a bottle of it if you aren’t romancing her as a gesture of respect and affection. It just seemed like she and Lana might share similar tastes.

Also – Rex from Clone Wars / Rebels is now a bartender for the Eternal Alliance. I don’t know. (Graphic courtesy of Wookiepedia)

[autisticlaezel]

wb for dherwisa? :’)

Basics:

Full name: Dherwisa Posi, Darth Imperious

Gender: Non-binary woman

Sexuality: Lesbian

Pronouns: She/her, they/them

Others:

Family: Dhavari Posi [older sister].

Birthplace: Unknown location, Ziost

Job: Sith Apprentice, Sith Lord, Lord of the Council, personal adviser to Empress Acina

Phobias: Loss of control, betrayal

Guilty pleasures: Luxury, Kaasi brandy, Mandalorian food

Morals:

Moral alignment: lawful neutral

Sins -  lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

Virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

This or that:

Introvert/extrovert

Organized/disorganized

Close minded/open minded [open minded by Sith standards, close minded by regular standards]

Calm/anxious

Disagreeable/agreeable

Cautious/reckless

Patient/impatient

Outspoken/reserved

leader/follower

Empathetic/unempathetic

Optimistic/pessimistic

Traditional/modern [modern by orthodox Sith standards, traditional by regular standards]

Hard-working/lazy

Relationships:

Otp: Dherwisa/Acina, Dherwisa/Lana

Ot3: Dherwisa/Lana/Marloveigh

Brotp: Dherwisa/Andronikos, Dherwisa/Ashara, Dherwisa/Talos

Notp: Dherwisa/any man

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[image: dialogue between Elara Dorne (a human republic soldier in orange and white armor, with an oval face, big eyes, and blond hair pulled back) talking to Tank (a tall buff twilek with red skin and face tattoos, in the same armor). Elara says “Kaasi brandy, aged thirty years. One of the few personal effects I brought with me when I defected. I waged a veritable war to have it returned once my legal status was established. It’s all but impossible to find in Republic space -- I wanted you to have it.”

Tank takes the brandy and holds it in her hand. She says “I never took you for much of a drinker, Elara.” Elara says “I’m no great cantina patron, perhaps. But I can enjoy a fine spirit over dinner or some light reading just as much as the next person. You have been a fine commander and a very good friend to me. A token of appreciation seemed quite overdue. Don’t hesitate to share if you should decide to open it.” end image]

Elara <3 <3 <3

also i need to draw tank and elara drinking the brandy together... curse u lack of spoons and other artistic obligations!

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malavaisquinn replied to your photoset :                    [image: dialogue between Elara Dorne (a human...                

   Elara sharing her Kaasi brandy is definitely one of my favourite Elara moments. If you draw Tank and Elara drinking the brandy together I’ll be very interested in seeing it. ^_^   

Same

and you’ll definitely see it if i draw it because i post all of my fanart to tumblr :P