#light repeating laser blaster

[sw5w]

Naboo Soldiers Ready to Strike

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:46:37

An interesting thing here is that the mustachioed security guard in the speeder is carrying a battle droid's E-5 blaster. Really shows that they were using everything they could find to fight back.

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter Four

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence and injuries

Seven months later

This shit was getting old.

One of Doc Oc’s tentacles rammed into Miguel’s side, tossing him against a wall and leaving a crack in the concrete. She smiled in satisfaction, oblivious to the spider-venom blaster he’d stuck to the underside of the mechanical arm. With a quick chirp and blast of energy the arm was blown off. It landed with a pitiful twitch on the ground as electricity sparked through its circuitry.

“Let’s go!” Hobie whooped, slamming his fingers down the guitar strings with so much force Miguel was surprised they didn’t snap in two. 

Doc Oc screamed, blown backward by an eclectic spray of pink and purple newsprint. 

Three arms down, five more to go… or so they thought. 

New arms sprouted from their old stumps, flailing around for a brief moment before they shot out towards Hobie. 

He barely dodged the series of blows.

“Is that hammer space, bruv?!” 

Joder.

Hobie lept around the barren stage, launching battered amplifiers slathered in a dozen layers of stickers towards her. A stray limb punched through the drumset as Hobie spun out of the way. 

He gasped. The amps they could replace, but no one fucked with his instruments.

“Is it time to call for backup?” Lyla asked Miguel as Hobie gripped the neck of his guitar (the battle-safe one of course) and swung at Doc Oc’s head.

“Do not call for backup!” Miguel growled in annoyance. 

He could handle this.

“Yeah, I didn’t even ask you to come, mate!” Hobie yelled over the sound of Doc Oc sailing over the empty mosh pit and crashing into the guard rails. “I ain’t part of no band.”

“You literally just finished a concert three hours ago!” 

“That got nothing to do with you.”

Miguel groaned, ready to bash his head into the wrecked drum kit. 

No puedo más. No puedo más. He found himself thinking that a lot lately.

But as much as Hobie and Miguel liked to pretend they hated each other, they made a good team out in the field. They swung from the ceiling lights, electric blue and pink lights showering down on them in that crazed, photomontage way that tinged every part of Hobie’s world. It was enough to give Miguel a headache. 

The worst part about the multiverse is that there was no telling what kinds of powers and modifications existed out there. For example, Miguel didn’t know a Doc Oc existed that had lasers shoot out of their tentacles.

“I feel like it’s time to call for backup.” Lyla repeated, casually watching from the safety of her AI existence as Miguel’s webs were split in two and he took a sickening punch to the jaw. He shook his head, blinking away the dots in front of his eyes as he took a moment to rest in the comfort of his rubble sofa.

“Do not call Jess. She’s on maternity leave.”

“I wasn’t talking about Jess.” Lyla grinned mischeviously. 

Miguel narrowed his eyes, “No. Absolutely not.”

It was too soon, far too soon for him to drag you into a fight like this. 

“CALL FOR BACKUP!” Hobie cried out from the confines of Doc Oc’s tentacles, squirming around and trying to use his head spikes to free himself.

“You weren’t saying that earlier!”

“THAT’S THE TOXIC MASCULINITY TALKING! YOU GOT TO BE COMFORTABLE WITH CHANGING YOUR OPINION AND ADMITTING YOUR FAU-”

A portal opened up stage left. 

Miles swung out first, black and red suit standing out like an ink stain.

“¡¿Alguien pidió ayuda?!” Miguel could hear his smug smile through the mask.

“You already called him!?” Miguel scowled and hopped onto his feet, sprinting to join the fight as Miles landed his first punch against Doc Oc. 

Relief flooded his system. He thought that-

“I actually called her.” Lyla said, pointing a finger with a grin.

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat.

You stepped through the portal, adjusted the gloves on your newly designed suit and teleported yourself onto Doc Oc’s back, casually blinking away any tentacles that got too close. 

You were absolutely buzzing with excitement. Nevermind that you were currently blinking across spacetime to avoid the lazers that left behind scorched scars on the grass. This was your first real mission outside of occasionally helping Miles with his friendly neighborhood Spider-Man duties. And in Hobie’s dimension no less! Ever since you’d seen his unique color palette and design you’d been itching to see his world for yourself. Maybe you and Miles could take an impromptu field trip to the nearest museum afterwards.

“Lyla said you didn’t want to call me.” You said, happy with the way his eyes slightly widened beneath his mask. He coughed to clear his throat.

“You’re supposed to be at work.” Miguel said, tearing into Doc Oc’s tentacles with his forearm blades, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s summer break.” 

“You said you were teaching summer classes.” 

“I am! Only five kids are enrolled and he,” You tilted your head towards Miles, who waved back before he tore off an arm, "was the only one who could come to the Met field trip. Which you so rudely interrupted by the way.” The smile in your voice exposed the fact that you were quite ok with the interruption.

Miguel rolled his eyes half-heartedly, hoping you didn’t notice his restrained smile.  “Let’s just get the job done.”

And you did. 

Fighting a flesh-and-blood supervillain was a far cry from the simulations you’d fought at Spidey HQ where the only injury you could sustain was a blow to your pride when Lyla flashed the battle stats on the screen. Your training also didn’t account for the absolute chaos of working with a team. You nearly got in the way of one of Miles’s spider venom blasts and accidentally teleported onto Hobie’s back, throwing him off his rhythm long enough for a punch from Doc Oc to send you both crashing. Miguel had nearly lost his mind after that.

But after walking away from the fight with only a bruised jaw, cut upper arm, and a very disgruntled Doc Oc in tow, you were going to call your first real superhero outing a success.

“Sorry about earlier,” you said, extending a hand out to Hobie from where he groaned on the ground. He grabbed your arm and rolled onto his feet, shaking the dust off his jacket.

“Eh, it’s part of the learning.” He straightened his coat and reattached one of the pins he’d tucked safely away in his pocket, “Not bad for a first anomaly though.”

“Hmmmm, are we counting Spot?”

“No.”

“Damn.”

A shadow fell over your shoulder and you smirked, turning around on your heels to come face to face with Miguel. The fight was over, but somehow Miguel looked even more tense and irrate than before. Behind his back you saw Doc Oc yell and punch at the orange walls of her prison. 

“Are you here to say good job?” You teased.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, voice tight.

Hobie brushed past you, “I’m good, cheers.” he said, patting Miguel on the shoulder before heading over to where Miles stared in awe at the anomaly. You felt more than saw Miguel roll his eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you.” 

“I know.” 

Hobie’s reply widened your smile. There was something glorious about seeing Miguel lose his cool. Normally you tried to get him to smile or laugh, but sometimes annoyance was an easier emotion to muster from him. It reminded you that beneath all that hard-won armour was a man just trying his best.

“I’m fine, Miguel.” You said. 

He gently tugged at the bottom of your mask and you took the hint, pulling it off entirely. Miguel’s frown deepened as he gently tucked a finger beneath your chin and turned your face to the side, eyes narrowed in on your swollen jaw. You tried not to blush under his watchful gaze. It really wasn’t a terrible injury, and with your enhanced healing it would fade within a day, but it stll felt like a gut punch to Miguel.

You were used to this kind of attention from him. The first two months after joining the Spider Society had been a pool of uncertainty that you’d flapped around in with little control - you’d been uncertain about your powers, the multiverse and your place in it, and your relationship with Miguel… especially your relationship with Miguel. 

His aloofness was only matched by his sincerity and once you’d forgiven him for what he’d done to Miles, you found him easy to like. His grouchiness and sarcasm pulled smiles from you as easily as water from a spring, and it didn’t escape anyone’s notice that you were the only one who could make him laugh and crack through his walls. But there was always that itch in the back of your mind that told you he only cared because you looked like his wife, not because you’d both grown to know and care for each other. 

You tried not to think about it too often. 

It made moments like these harder to handle.

“Nada que no pueda manejar.” You said softly, pulling his hand away and towards the anomaly, “Now come on. This anomaly isn’t just going to hop dimensions on its own.” 

Miguel opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately relented, allowing you to lead him to where Hobie and Miles bent their heads towards one another, shooting jokes back and forth as easily as their webs.

Margo portaled in to help Miguel take Doc Oc to Earth-928 and you watched their retreating backs disappear with a blink before Hobie turned towards you and Miles, rubbing his hands together and pulling you both into his side.

“Now! Who’s ready to see some real art?”

______

“I can’t believe all the museums in your dimension are Koons-themed.” Miles said, slouching in his seat and looking positively disappointed.

“Why’d you think I took you to the back alleys, mate. Real art’s cheap.”

“Say that to my bank account after a trip to Blick.” You muttered, biting into your empanada with a groan of satisfaction.

You sat cross-legged on top of the bench, watching Margo’s cyber body split into two as the Go Home Machine whirred to life. Its metal claws clicked together, sounding like the chirping of birds as it spun its web around Doc Oc as she watched with no small amount of curiosity.

“You think you could ever do that?” Hobie asked, leaning against your shoulder and slinging his arm around you casually. 

You raised your eyebrow, “What, forcefully send a living person back to their home dimension?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“You try interdimensional travel without your fancy watch and tell me how easy it is.” You said with a grin, poking at his side until he squirmed away with a chuckle. You took the opportunity to steal a french fry from him.

“Alright, alright, stop. I think you could do it.”

The four of you watched as the Go Home Machine finished its kaleidoscopic work. Miguel always had a clinical view of the work he did and the machines he created. Whenever it was traveling to another world, or encountering a new being (Spider-Person or otherwise) the last thing on his mind was beauty or a fascination with the ways things were. That’s where you two differed the most. So while Miguel hardly ever stayed around to watch the Go Home Machine run its science-magic, you always craned your neck to catch glimpses of the worlds beyond Earth-928.

“I better check in with Miguel.” You said, hopping off the table once Doc Oc was safely back in her home universe.

Hobie, Miles, and Margo all shot each other a knowing look before you could notice. 

Now that school was out for the summer you found yourself spending more and more time on Earth-928, and after six months of training you could walk to Miguel’s lair from any part of the building with a blindfold on. The first few weeks you hadn’t been able to suppress the slight unease at entering the dark room where many of the captured anomalies would sneer at you like you were a meal to be hunted.

Now… not so much.

“You’re still here, Norm?” You asked, catching sight of the familiar gentleman who shrugged and smiled. He sat comfortably on the floor, purple hood and goggles abandoned beside him to expose his weathered face.

“Still here,” He repeated, “I suppose I’m not as high a priority to send home now that I’m not, you know, evil anymore.” He sighed, “I just can’t believe my luck. I leave an alternate universe and not even a year later I’m sucked into another one!” He chuckled.

“I’ll talk to Spider-Man about it.” 

“Peter?!” His eyes brightened at the possibility.

“Ummm…no. Sorry.” 

He nodded, shoulders deflating every so slightly, “Thanks anyway Spider-”

“Y/sh/n, actually.” Miles and Gwen had helped you come up with it.

“Well, thank you Y/sh/n.” He said and waved you on before he could steal more of your time.

“I told you it’s dangerous to talk to the anomalies.” Miguel said, eyes still trained on the screens as you blinked next to him. One day you’d manage to sneak up on him, but today was not that day. 

You frowned when you saw he was still wearing his mask. 

“Well you’re talking to me right now, aren’t you?” You said, bumping his shoulder with your own before climbing onto the empty space on his desk he subtly reserved for you.

Miguel stiffened and his fingers froze over the keys. It had taken you months to fully forgive him for all the terrible things he’d said and done to Miles - the things he may have said to you if you didn’t have his wife’s face… if you were just a regular anomaly.

“That’s not what I-.” 

“You also said Earth-199999’s Peter Parker took care of the Green Goblin. I think we’re fine.” 

He nodded and sighed. His eyes were killing him right now and even the faint flicking of the red-orange lights from the screens felt like blows to his skull. 

“He wants to go home.” You said and saw his eyes flicker to the anomaly on the screen, red and tired.

“I know. He’s scheduled to be sent back tonight. I promise.” 

You nodded with satisfaction and snapped your fingers, a pair of sunglasses blinking into the palm of your hand, “You should take a break. You’ve been working non-stop for over two days now.”

“I’ve got work to do.”

“The multiverse is not going to shatter because you take a thirty-minute lunch break, Miguel.” 

He eyed you warily and shook his head, fingers flying across the touchpad like they were racing to win gold. 

He always did this. He always worked himself to the bone until you would find him red-eyed and slumped over the tabletop for one of his thirty-minute “power-naps.” 

“Lyla.” You called out. The woman appeared perched on your shoulders.

“You rang?”

“Can you please tell Miguel that the multiverse isn’t going to collapse before he does?” 

“Ooooh you said please. I like you.” Miguel muttered a few choice words under his breath, “The multiverse is holding steady. I’ll alert you if anything changes at all.” Lyla winked at you and disappeared. 

“Realmente necesito cambiar su código.” Miguel grumbled.

“¡Ni se te ocurra!”

Miguel tightened his lips but said nothing. You slid over to sit in front of him and pushed against his chest until he finally relented and sat down in the chair. He didn’t want to admit this, but the only reason he agreed to sit down was because he’d fractured two ribs in the fight, and you pressing against his chest hurt like a bitch.

“Did you really come all this way just to get me to rest?”

“Obviously.” You tossed the sunglasses into his lap along with the extra empanada you’d been carrying around the last half-hour. You hoped it was still warm, but then again, if it weren’t for you he probably wouldn’t have remembered to eat at all. 

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “Gracias.” 

“Solo cállate y come. Lo juro, es como si estuviera tratando de mantener viva una planta de interior. Una planta de interior muy obstinada.”

He tilted his head down, hiding his face as his mask disappeared. 

You held your breath, reaching out instinctively to hold his face in between your hands. Color rushed into his cheeks, emphasizing the dark, purple bruise that crawled its way up from his jawline to his cheek bone, the flesh around it swollen and warm when you carefully traced it with your finger. The bridge of his nose was similarly bruised, the strong slope of his nose tilted ever so slightly to the left. 

Miguel also stopped breathing, the pain hardly registering as he felt your eyes against his skin as physical and real as your hands.

You became all too aware of the closeness, the way he was looking at you. A familiar and malicious voice scratched the back of your mind - What are you to him? Who are you to him? Who is he really thinking about when he looks at you like that?

You let go of his face, your heart sinking in your chest.

“¿Qué te sucedió?” You murmured. His brown-red eyes were wide and soft.

He cleared his throat, disappointment gathering in his chest when you withdrew your hands, “I guess I should have called for backup sooner.” 

“Where else are you hurt?”

“I’m not-”

“Where else are you hurt? Y no te atrevas a mentirme.” 

Miguel melted under your fiery gaze. You weren’t one to show your anger - teaching teenagers had strengthened your patience - but Miguel had a special way of pushing your buttons, whether he knew it or not. 

“I may or may not have cracked a rib… or two.” 

“Miguel!” 

“I’ll heal!” 

“Estúpido, bastardo terco.” You muttered under your breath with no small measure of affection.

You reached over and gently pressed on his stomach, hearing him hiss in pain. He grabbed your arm to get you to stop, shame coloring his bruised cheek.

“I’ll be ok. I promise.” He whispered when you leaned down from your seat to inspect his jaw again. Any longer under your watchful gaze and he might just combust.

“I know you’ll be ok. I just…” Your lips tightened. “I don’t like to see you hurt.”

You’d been in this situation before with Miguel a few times. It always ended with him promising to take better care of himself, holding to that promise for a few weeks, and then falling back into old, self-destructive habits. The others said he had gotten better about taking care of himself ever since you’d come into the picture, but you found that hard to believe. 

“I don’t like to see you hurt either.” He admitted, gently rubbing up and down your forearms. He eyed the tear in your suit, and the clean white bandage that peeked through. 

Who is he really thinking of?

You told that voice to shut up.

“So you can imagine how worried I get when I see you like this.” 

Miguel sighed, running his hands through his hair and mussing up the curls. He could imagine it all too well. Every time you left for your own dimension a knot of worry would sink in his chest like a boulder dropped into a lake, and it wouldn’t dissipate until the next time he saw you safe and whole. He flinched at the very thought of you sporting bruises and cracked bones like the ones he had - the scars he bore after years on the job.

“What would you have me do?” He asked, “I can’t just give this up.” 

“I’m not- No one is asking you to. I know you need to do this. But you don’t have to do it alone. You know any of the other Spider-People would be more than happy to help monitor things in the Spider-Verse.” 

“One - it’s the Arachnoid Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. And two - the other Spider-People aren’t like me. They can’t do what I do.”

“You’re right, they’re a hell of a lot funnier” He scoffed, setting his jaw in a scowl that had pain flaring up the left side of his face. “And they don’t go around punching teenagers.”

“That was one time!” 

Your lips turned in a downward smile, trying to suppress your laughter at the indignant expression on his face. The scowl on his face slowly but surely loosened, twisting into a barely concealed smile.

“Stop doing that.” He muttered.

“Doing what?” You asked innocently.

“Getting me to smile and laugh. It hurts my ribs.” 

“All the more reason to get some rest, Miguel.” You said, ruffling his hair and gleaming with satisfaction when he finally allowed himself to smile. You plucked the sunglasses from his lap and placed them on his face, careful not to upset his healing nose.

How was it possible that he hated and loved the way you said his name so much? He knew you cared for him. The first two months had been tense and filled with questions of what you were to one another - A mistake? A bad memory? Husband and wife? It had been a time when every touch, glance, and hidden smile had been given with a measure of uncertainty and restraint.

Miguel didn’t feel that way anymore. When you messed up his hair and forced his hidden smile out into the open he just saw you. Not some version of his wife. Not someone he’d barely known. Not someone he’d lost. 

Just you.

“If I promise to take the night off to sleep and let Ben and LEGO Peter take care of it, would that satisfy you?” 

You hummed in thought, “How many hours of sleep are we talking about?” 

“Four.” 

“Seven.” You countered.

“Five.” 

“Deal.” You stuck out your hand, a wide grin on your face that Miguel matched when he shook your hand.

“What would I do without you?” He asked sarcastically.

You scoffed, “Shrivel up and die, probably.” 

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

_________

Author's note: Here's Chapter Four! Y/n is feeling some insecurity about her relationship with Miguel... I wonder if that will come up again in the next chapter 👀...........

As always, please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

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[soka-writes-things]

06. jailbreak and detonations

𝖊𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝖘𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

❝ 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀? ❞

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 a senator decides her life needs a bit of spice so she embarks on an adventure. unwillingly, of course.

the bad batch x fem!oc

all seasons

in progress

All Rights Reserved to me

back - next

chapter six!

06. jailbreak and detonations

IT'S BEEN THREE DAYS since that nightmare, and the whole jail floor has been eerily quiet again. Soka had gone to check the blind woman's abandoned cell but it looks exactly the same every other time she checked it.

So, instead, Soka circled her cell a few times, unsure of what to do. It quickly turned out she didn't need to figure out what to do because within a few minutes the alarms overhead started to blare.

Soka practically jumped out of her skin, watching as the world around her devolved into red lights and pitchy screams. The wailing and banging activated with the alarms, and to Soka's relief, a small team of guards raced down the hall past her cell.

The sounds of shooting started shortly after overhead, and Soka listened patiently, heart pattering in her chest, as the shooting slowly came down the levels.

Within the hour, the shooting was on her level. 

Soka squinted and could sort of see what was going on. A group of people in armour (was that turquoise?) were taking down the guards. Soka was mighty pleased to see the guards be taken down, they hadn't been treating her all too nice during her time here.

The invaders finished off the guards and Soka watched, interested, as they stalked down the hall, looking into cells. Maybe they were here for the Pike Syndicate member that was brought in a few days ago? Soka nodded to herself, that seemed likely.

"Who are you nodding to?" a young female voice spoke up. 

Soka looked up, startled, to find one of the invaders, but tiny. Soka blinked at her, mouth agape. "What?"

"Omega, who are you talking to?" A male voice scolded the young invader. A tall invader came into view of her cell. He had prominent goggles taking over the visor position in his helmet. "Hunter!" he called out as the young invader—Omega— took a step back.

An invader shorter than the goggled one walked into view. Hunter, the goggled one called him. Goggles moved over to the pad connected to her laser door while Hunter looked down at Omega.

Omega must've understood because she moved back, stepping out of view, and started to whisper to herself. Soka belatedly realized Omega was relaying information into a comm.

"You're Sokanara Tanobi, correct?" Goggles said as the pad sparked and flickered before dying out, the laser door dropping. Soka watched in awe.

"Correct?" he repeated.

Soka nodded her head quickly, turning her gaze to Goggles. "Yeah, yeah." she paused frowning, "...what's it to you?"

Goggles stuck out a hand as if to introduce himself, "I am Tech. We are here to rescue you."

"Yeah!" Omega chirped in, causing Hunter to send her a hand signal which had her grumbling.

Soka watched the interaction with curiosity. "Does he- Hunter, does he not speak?"

Tech tilted his head, she could see his eyes bouncing around her face, wondering why she was asking this question. "He can." Tech spoke measuredly.

"I just prefer not to." 

The voice sent tingles down her spine and Soka turned to look where Hunter had taken off his helmet, crouched next to Omega who had also taken off her helmet.

He was checking her helmet for damages, and Omega was just finding fun in wearing Hunter's. It was clearly too large for her, slipping oddly onto her face, loose around the edges. Omega's hands still stimmed with glee.

A beep to Tech's comm had him scowling before taking a blaster and a datapad from his hip. Soka hadn't even noticed they were there. "Echo's pinpointed more guards coming down to our level, we must move."

Omega slipped off Hunter's helmet, passing it back to him, before taking her own and putting it back on. Hunter did the same to his helmet and held a finger to a round disc on the sides of his helmet. She heard him speaking, the voice muffled by the helmet, before raising a hand and pointing it down the hall opposite that they had come in.

"Wrecker said there's a hidden opening on that side. We've gotta blast it open." Hunter relayed.

Omega's face brightened, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a detonator. Hunter's body tensed in alarm. "What on terra-" he cursed, "Did Wrecker give you that?"

Omega nodded, pulling out some more detonations to match the detonator. "He told me he wanted me to blow something up." Omega shrugged, passing them to Tech who had his hands out. Tech inspected the detonations before nodding firmly to himself, starting down the hall.

Hunter sighed, "Why does no one listen to me," he mumbled sourly as he followed after Tech. Omega looked up at Soka, "C'mon miss! let's go!"

Soka nodded, pushing her legs into motion to jog alongside Omega. Soka briefly looked at the empty cell of the blind woman, a shudder running through her as a vision of bloodied worms flashed in her mind. She tore her gaze away and ran a bit faster to catch up with Omega when she realized she had slowed down.

They reached the other two, who were talking quite animatedly about the explosives. Tech was telling Hunter to set the explosives already due to the limited time they had, while Hunter was saying he didn't want to over-explode the wall as to bring attention to them.

"Aren't the guards already coming down?" Soka inputted as she slowed to a stop beside Omega. Tech waved an exasperated hand at Soka as if to say "see?" at Hunter.

As if to prove Tech's point even further, a bolt from a blaster shot zipped past the group and embedded itself into the wall. It almost seemed like Hunter had already sensed it coming since he snagged Omega, pulling her down to the ground, as the blaster shot was close to aiming at her.

Tech kicked into high gear as well, grabbing Soka's arm and tugging her behind him. Tech passed Soka some explosives and without a word, started to shoot back at the guards. Hunter did the same, and Soka watched as Omega pulled out a large bow and zipped out neon pink arrows.

The trio didn't need communication, a few hand signals was all it took for them to change tactics whenever it was needed.

They had evidently decided to tuck themselves to the grooves in the wall, Tech dragging Soka belatedly with him, and ducked in and out of shooting at the cockroaches of guards appearing.

"As one falls, another just takes it's place!" Hunter called out, irritated.

"Change of tactics!" Tech replied, a few fingers flying in the air at Hunter's direction. Maker if Soka knew what on terra it meant, but Hunter seemed to understand just fine. He pulled a popper out of his pocket and launched it at the horde of guards.

A zapping filled the air, and before Soka could blink, Tech snatched some of the explosives from her hands and tossed it towards Hunter. Hunter caught it easily and passed it to Omega, to which he explained something to her. Omega nodded and Tech turned to Soka.

"Follow Omega's lead, she will explain what you need to do." He said before rushing after Hunter, who Soka hadn't even realized had left.

Maker, she'd be a really bad spy.

Soka turned to find Omega already scaling the wall behind them, easily placing her explosives in a half circle.

"Omega, what do I do?" Soka called out over the blaster fire. Omega turned to her with a beam, "Just toss me the explosives when I ask for it!"

They worked in almost perfect sync, save for some of Soka's awful tosses, and soon a decent detonation circle was created on the wall.

Omega reached to her side and clicked a button on the side of her comm. It buzzed three times and Omega took a step back. "C'mon," she said with a gesture.

Soka followed Omega into the grooves in the wall, tucking themselves into it, while supposedly waiting for something.

That something came a few seconds later, some blaster fire following, and Tech and Hunter slipped into view.

This time, Tech got to Omega first and curled himself around her. Soka watched in confusion as Hunter came up to her, hands empty and open towards her.

"We're gonna set off the detonations, turn your face to the wall and cover your ears." He told her. Soka nodded, doing as he said, and felt his presence behind her as he tucked himself against her like Tech did to Omega. Hunter's gloves felt surprisingly cold over her hands as he guided them to cover her ears, helping to muffle the world around her.

The ground shook under them and within a second Hunter had removed himself from covering Soka, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around. "Alright, let's go."

Tech and Omega had already removed themselves from the grooves, and were returning blaster fire through the smoke. Hunter led Soka through the hole in the wall, revealing a big vast canyon before them. It was one of the grand openings to the lower-levels, Soka realized.

There was no where to run, except to tuck themselves into the side of the wall, and shuffle along. 

And did that Soka did, having watched Hunter duck back into the building to help bring out Omega and Tech.

While Soka waited against the wall, shivering and heart pounding, the whir of a ship caught her attention. She watched as fire spewed out of the backside, the ship coming closer to her current position.

Soka swallowed thickly, thinking she was done for. She tried to shuffle along the wall to get back to the entrance of the exploded hole, when Omega burst out of the hole, Tech and Hunter following respectively.

ᯓ★

WHOOOO its finally time to get plot interesting!!!!

this was originally one really long part but i decided to split it into chapters so yall wouldnt get tired from reading it skskjdksdj

ya girl is on fireeee btw

like literally

biology class makes me want to set myself on fire.

and bcz of school its been like a month since i last updated (im so sorry)

anyways lol go drink some water though the next chap is a continuation of this chap so dont stray away for too long <33333

taglist: @callsign-denmark, @goose-nest, @molethemollie

if you want to be tagged, just comment your username below and say "i want to be tagged"

[the-firebird69]

I'm going to hit you down Dan you deserve it make sure you chew your food thoroughly yeah that's right it's your own brain.

The crew is sitting there doing nothing.... What are the most popping head out, in our direction and moving out of the tunnels with lasers and blasters and they're not up and they're not hot, ours are all heated. And the smirking and they're grinning. It almost all out of the tunnel and Max is saying turn around and drive on there you'll be given safe passage as long as you don't fire on us. They said no we wish to reclaim our lands and you can join us fighting for them. The sitting off in the distance... Watching this Trump is just Wheeling closer weapons are not hot you don't have infrared. They have stopped and they are trying to warm up their weaponry we let out one warning "cool down your weaponry and exit this area immediately". They're not doing it. They're heating up still, we get the order to open fire and I'm sending it out. That's huge with us. It shows hes well. Orders reach them and there's an open fire adjustment to the rings all of them unless it is set for Mac unless he's firing on the wall in a serious way. 500 cannons go off for real and they're force decimated. Huge numbers of laser blasts I've seen trillions and it ranks up front to gone, freeing up huge spheres. We see Macs Force retreating. Trump sources are gone and yes like 20 million octillion is a ridiculous pile of idiot. It's another third of the status and caches of spheres and other lasers blasters all hours and we have to reconfigure them and rework them it's nice for them to give us the materials. Those two battles where your people are completely vanquished with these and they didn't even fire a shot and what they did was ridiculous so tell you don't let him repeat it and I witnessed how stupid they are. Hera says and we also back her up on that these people are very stupid and next door to our son they're very stupid takes too long to heat them up and just sat there heating them out I was told to leave they would be destroyed. No they're not listening to anything anyone to say and we're going to take it out on them shortly here in punta Gorda most of them people are removed from Florida. Between this and what happens in Mexico and what Jason will do and her idiocy overseas coming up cuz yeah they missed a lot of stuff out over there they're already messing it up they're going to be fired it should be all fired just for what they're doing with the spheres. Now people are mining out the spheres and they're taking them away, something company are trying to take them from them and to try and take the ones they mined and then not being allowed to. It'll get hit very hard but tons of them wouldn't tell them to go away and if they don't they hit him and usually they don't huge numbers of trumpsters are gone huge numbers they're almost out no but they're taking some big hits this is a big hit what happened at the Southern Wall millions of octillions. We will advance and we'll take those tunnels and we know where they go it's a big cavern on the shore and we have to take them because they're planning to construct some cannons the name of the wall and can fire on further north and their big conventional guns. And they plan to do this today so we are taking the territory it is 40 mi south of the wall and we are going to take it above ground and below and the mega highway is 100 miles south of the wall. We see that there filling the cavern and it's with items to build the cannons with. Invading now it was going to push them back and pull them out of the cavern for good

I'm fineng all these people. I'm tired of you accusing our son of crimes that you are committing on him you have to leave him alone. I don't want you people out of my life you're disgusting you can't shine a light on him we have plenty of people who got trapped by you to do stupid things and now were going to take you out.

Trump just lost so many people he should be gone huge numbers. And Mac is firing him as we speak is drawing up the papers. It looks like they handle the stuff to them it says. It also says he doesn't want us in his business with these people invite it every few seconds.

We've heard enough from this idiot next door I'm listening a real restraining order on him.

Sicario is in full gear and Jason has been grabbing people so I'm doing it for several days and several houses. If this doesn't go off we're going to lose Intel and from our idiot friend here I always seems to steal stuff that we don't think he can

Further I want this area cordoned off, listening around that we don't know about this is a top secret project something for hitting a dirty dish rags up around

I'm issuing the orders now

Thor Freya

[katarvitz]

So, this is the purely lore and finished product of the last upload. If you want to see the breakdown of how this was made, please take a look here - www.deviantart.com/katarvitz/a… --- Inquisitorial Report Delta-Gamma-Epsilon 00974

Agent: Ragar Korshunov

Priority: Sigma

Type: Enemy Intelligence

Sub-Category: Weapons & Resources

Message:

Work continues throughout Arx to deal with Collective holdouts and suicide bombers. Even after they were repelled and denied resources, they have fallen back on increasingly desperate attacks to overcome us. It’s only good fortune that the Collective placed little value in guerilla tactics that we continue to win out against them. Given their clear advantages on several fronts, the men and women of the Iron Legion under my command have been tasked with recovering anything of value for R&D.

One particular item uncovered recently is being dispatched today. It was mounted to the forearm of a combat cyborg, replacing the flesh and blood entirely. Such implant weapons are not uncommon within the ranks of the Technocrats, but this particular creation appeared to be a form of prototype upgrade, intended for both melee and medium range engagements.

The first point of note is that the forearm stores an immensely powerful generator for its size, capable of recharging multiple battle rifles. This would be enough to keep a cannon in full operation, but it exists purely to serve the weapon arm. This is a departure from typical Collective designs, as they otherwise favour utilising a single central power core to keep their systems active.

From the wrist upward, the arm retains three distinct weapons and one shield. The latter serves a purpose akin to molecular shielding. It is capable of not just reflecting but absorbing incoming fire, and uses this to recharge its core. When projected, this extends into a circular energy shield, measured in thirty inches in all directions from its middle. Its effectiveness against lightsabers is limited, as proven in the skirmish where we acquired this item, but it appears able to briefly resist them. We can assume that influence from Mandalorian gauntlet weapons was a key inspiration in this design, likely born of their effectiveness in fighting the Jedi Order.

The design itself is by no means wholly reliant upon the shield. Fitted with durasteel alloys, it can withstand multiple hits from standard blaster rifles, and these are linked by an energy-resistant fabric which nullifies the impact of low yield weapons.

The first of the weapons is the hand itself. The enlarged fingertips serve as a focus to wiring connections and a series of cables, which allows it to snap closed with immense force. This is akin to a crushgaunt in design, but with a far greater emphasis on delivering force at its points. This allows the wielder to inflict far more damage from sheer strength, while the enlarged surface area means it can inflict harm across a broader section of an opponent’s body. This makes wielders of this bionic upgrade especially dangerous when performing grappling moves, as they can completely destroy shoulder joints. I would not be surprised if they can be utilised to completely dismember an enemy.

The more notable weapon, mounted into an emplacement on the back of the hand, is a kyber crystal enhanced beam weapon categorised as a “laseron destroyer”. While incapable of firing the beam in singular extended blasts as might be expected, it makes up for this through repeated bursts of fire and rapid recharge rates. This has proven to be highly effective against infantry and light vehicles, even those protected by energy resistant armour.

Finally, the large weapon mount on the palm is a four-point Composite-beam laser, serving as a heavy weapon. The damage it inflicts is comparable with a direct strike from a man-portable cannon such as an E-Web repeating blaster. The details behind this design are still being examined, but it poses a clear threat against heavily armoured targets. Furthermore, the beam can be fired for up to sixteen seconds at a time, and redirected depending upon the wielder’s aim, allowing them to carve apart anything in front of them.

Thankfully, experimentation has already indicated a number of key weaknesses in the design. Although it benefits from having dedicated power generators, these need to be fine-tuned and occupy almost the entirety of the forearm. This is prone to overheating when constantly demanded from use, and we believe that this could inflict potentially lethal harm on the user if overtaxed. Furthermore, while heavily armoured, it would only take a glancing hit to its internals to trigger a catastrophic feedback of energy, completely destroying the implant and the user as well.

The laseron destroyer is an effective weapon, but it requires cooldown periods between use. After a number of rapid blasts in quick succession, the weapon can overheat entirely. This can fuse its circuitry or even breach the tibanna gas containers, rendering it useless until field repairs can be made. The risk of this damage is only further enhanced by the volatile nature of kyber crystals when fitted to blaser weaponry. The housing is also extended above the arm, but this weakness is offset by the substantial armour covering the device.

The composite beam laser suffers from long recharge times, and even cracking a single point can render it useless. It takes several moments to switch between it and the laseron destroyer, and the fact they share a single power generator means that the two cannot be simultaneously utilised. Some indications suggest that damage to one can also render the other inoperable due to the way in which power feeds have been fitted into internal components.

Finally, the fingers of the crushgaunt are unwieldy and ill-suited to delicate motions. It is purely dedicated to heavy damaging motions and individual fingers are prone to jamming, especially when performing rapid repeated gestures. We are, as of yet, uncertain if this is a true weakness however, due to other discoveries in the design. Many internal and external components show obvious time-saving methods, apparently favouring a need for a swift construction over fine-tuning all parts. This is obvious on the exterior of the device due to the thick welds across the plating, but haphazard wiring seals and flaws in its mechanisms have been cited as well. This may also be the cause for fabrics being used in place of fully encasing durasteel armour as would otherwise be expected. I believe this is a result of the Collective attempting to push as many of these items into the field in as short a time as possible. They are constantly diverting resources to new projects and pushing to upgrade their current designs.

Given the treatment of their troops, it would not be surprising if this particular bionic weapon underwent little to no field testing or was built with no concern for the life of its user. This is not unexpected, but it might herald a wider weakness that can be exploited in the next stage of this war.

I will keep you updated with further discoveries.

Hail Cantor! - Inquisitor Korshunov

---

You can find out more at Clan Odan-Urr in the Dark Jedi Brotherhood.

If you are interested in joining then take a look here.

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

“Embrace” - Din Djarin x female!reader

Tigaanur Series: Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | MASTERLIST

Summary: The first time you slept next to the Mandalorian definitely wasn’t that comfortable. The second time would have been a lot better … if you could have fallen asleep in his embrace.

Warning: the fluff continues, a bit of violence/near death experience? (honestly ... is that news in that series?), more touching and bed sharing, suggestive themes, Hmmm slow-burn romance! My favorite ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Category: fluff

Words: about 8.000

Notes: The sequel to “Touch” is here! You don’t have to read the first part necessarily but I would suggest it because some things are references you might understand better if you read both. I also decided to name this series “Tigaanur“ which is Mando’a for ... touch, lol. I hope y’all like the second part just as much! I had a lot of fun writing this, hehe. Note 2: Again, set during season 1 but the events are drawn out over a longer period of time (but they aren’t really mentioned) Note 3: If you like my writing ... I’m taking Requests! Or if you just want to be notified when I upload something: I’ve started a taglist, too!

_________________________________    

“Embrace” – Din Djarin x fem!reader

With a huff you turned in your makeshift bed and stared at the ceiling of the Razor Crest, your hands clasped and neatly placed on your stomach. Keeping track of the time was difficult when you were in hyperspace for more than a day, at least for you, but when spending these days unable to fall asleep, the minutes seemed to last an eternity longer. Insomnia plagued you in your hours of otherwise peaceful slumber ever since a few weeks. All those events, all those concerns to keep the Child safe and the realization that there was a bounty on your head now, kept you awake, alert even when you knew it was safe to close your eyes. Your days were a constant pattern you couldn't escape from. Fighting, fleeing, repeat. You were aware of what you had signed up for when you joined Mando and the little one on the Razor Crest and you didn't regret a thing. But what you hadn't been aware of at the beginning was just how much your mind would struggle to process everything. You adapted to having to be observant and careful all the time, you just couldn't switch it off anymore. Your body shook with energy, prepared to act if necessary at any time even when you were more than exhausted. In the last couple of weeks you only seemed to find any sleep when your body was too exhausted to function anymore, leaving you passed out in the copilot seat more often than not. When Mando would notice you almost falling sleep beside him, he always urged you to go down in your bed. You knew he only wanted you to sleep comfortably, the copilot seat wasn't the best alternative for your body and especially for your back. You didn't dare to tell him that the moment you would settle down in your bed, you would be wide awake for the rest of the flight. Sometimes sleep was within reach, so close but your mind would startle you awake before you could get a hold of it. Leaving you panicked in your bed with your heart beating relentlessly against your ribs, keeping you awake for the rest of the night. Other times your body was simply too restless for you to even feel tired, let alone fall asleep. The constant stress your body and mind were under, slowly but surely strained your nerves.

You groaned, frustrated at yourself, and pressed the palms of your hands against your eyes. You couldn't deal with this anymore. You kicked back your blanket and stood up from your makeshift bed. You stretched your arms over your head until your shoulders made a satisfied plopping sound, then you grabbed your blanket, draped it over your shoulders and head like a hood before you made your way to the ladder leading up. You tiptoed silently past the Mandalorian's cot in which the kid was sleeping soundly, not wanting to wake the little on up, and then climbed up to the cockpit.

Mando shifted in his seat the moment you set a foot onto solid ground again, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you. You walked up to him with your head lowered and sat down into the copilot seat to his right. With your feet plopped onto the seat, you wrapped the blanket around you and leaned your head back, glancing at the streaks of blue and silver above your through the window. "Nightmare?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper his modulator struggled to pick up. His concern for you made your heart flutter and warmth spred in your stomach. "No" you shook your head and wrapped the blanket tighter around your body. "Just can't fall asleep right now." It wasn’t a lie, just not the complete truth either. You let out a sigh, your eyes still fixated onto the fascinating beauty that was hyperspace even though you have seen it a million times already. But the nebula of blue and silver, of the stars swirling around you, never ceased to amaze you. The silence was light but filled with unspoken words and questions. You didn't dare to ask any of them out loud. You didn't want to disturb the comfortable silence and you weren't sure if you wanted to hear his answers anyway. You had asked him the question that was burning on the tip of your tongue before. His answer didn't really clarify much for you, you were still unsure at times. Now you only knew that he didn't mind the touches, didn't mind you around him. You were curious but also afraid to ask again. You liked how the bond you two shared was right now, you didn't want it to change to something awkward.

Your eyes fluttered close unwillingly, the exhausting taking a hold of your stiff body. You still couldn't relax but your body needed to shut down, needed to recharge. You heard the Mandalorian shuffle with something but before you could open your eyes to look, he had already grabbed your hand from underneath the blanket and intertwined his un-gloved fingers with yours. The warmth of his touch immediately washed over your whole body. Your lips formed into a soft smile as you squeezed his hand in thanks, slowly melting into his touch and the seat, gradually you felt your body relax. Mando began to draw small circles on the back of your hand, soothing your racing thoughts to a halt. No words were spoken, but you didn't feel like they were necessary right now. You were just grateful for his touch as your mind slipped into a peaceful slumber. The last clear thought you could form stuck with you even when you woke up again a few hours later. You never seemed to be able to relax in your bed just as good as if you were in the cockpit with Mando by your side.

_______________

"Why does this always happen?" you huffed under your breath as you ran beside the Mandalorian, trying to get back to the Razor Crest before one of the men hunting you could land a shot.

You had just wanted to get some more supplies again, with three people on the ship rations didn't last long, especially with the always hungry kid that was hiding in the bag slung over your shoulder right now. You had wanted to go alone but after what happened the last time, when you had gotten badly hurt, Mando didn't allow that. Especially now that there was also a bounty on your head to track him and the kid down. You were in far more danger than he anticipated, than he wanted. But you also were in a desperate need to leave the ship even if it was only for an hour. You couldn’t stand being trapped there any longer, so you argued with him, refused to stay behind. After a while, and very reluctantly, Mando agreed to you going with him which meant that the kid had to join, too, because you didn't want to leave him alone on the ship. You had hoped for it to run smoothly, to just for once be able to enjoy a trip to a market and not be confronted with the harsh reality again. But you should have known better, you should have known that some bounty hunters would spot you three, that it was just inevitable.

So, that was why you were running through the narrow streets of the city you were in right now. Fighting them all off immediately hadn't been an option this time with all the civilians around you blocking your path and sight, so you three had to resort to shooting your way free and immediately fleeing after that. The plan had been to find a spot where you would have some advantage to attack but the city seemed to only consist of small, narrow streets in which you couldn't do anything except try to run, try to not get shot in the back.

Mando was running beside you but after a while you had trouble keeping pace with him. Your legs burned, the exhaustion in every fiber of your body from weeks of almost no sleep slowed you down more and more. Gasping for air you tried to not fall too far behind. The Mandalorian took a sharp turn to the left, vanishing into another small side street. You stumbled, struggling to slow down enough to take the turn without needing to stop completely. You could only vaguely hear the shouting of the bounty hunters behind you over the blood rushing through your ears and your heart hammering against your ribs. But what you could hear, or rather feel, was the blaster shoots zooming past you, barely missing. They were coming closer, fast. The kid cooed in your bag, confused by what was going on when you grabbed the bag and pressed it with him in it protectively against your chest. At least he wouldn't get hit there. You managed to round the corner and fixated your eyes back on Mando's form. With a groan you sped up, trying to catch up to him. But then you felt the laser of a blaster, its heat sizzled past your face, missing your skin only barely. Your heart leaped into your throat and you jumped to the side, your back collided with the wall of a building as you came to a sudden halt. When you collected your thoughts enough to turn your head, you saw the bounty hunters had already followed you into the small street and you knew there was no use in escaping anymore. If you ran, they would just shoot you in the back. You looked down at the Child who had stuck out his head from the bag, staring at you with his big, round eyes, and you knew what you had to do. You had no other option. You had to fight. You grabbed your blaster from the holster on your hip -Mando made you take one with you and had taught you the basics, now that you were on the radar of bounty hunters too- and slung the bag around so the Child would be hidden behind your back, safe from any blaster shots coming your way. You had no time to aim so you just shot into the general direction of the bounty hunters, hoping for the best, as you pushed yourself from the wall, avoiding a few shots only barely. Miraculously you managed to hit a few of them, or maybe it was Mando who hit them. He had to be somewhere behind you, he probably noticed your absence and had turned around to help, but your mind was too clouded to notice his footsteps hurrying closer or his blaster shots coming from behind you, more unfocused and aimless than usually. You ducked your head down to avoid a few more otherwise fatal shots and directed your blaster to the bounty hunter closest to you, only for it to jam. You pulled the trigger three times before you realized that nothing was happening. Your eyes widen in horror and you did the only thing you could think of right now: Protect the Child at all cost. You let your blaster fall to the ground as you spun around, so your back was facing the bounty hunters. You grabbed the bag during your turnaround and pressed it against your chest again, putting one hand on the little one’s head in an attempt to soothe him while your body shook in fear. You prepared yourself for the hit, prepared yourself for the heat sinking into your skin, for the pain, when you suddenly felt someone grab you and spin you around with them. You were too disoriented to react, to fight, you could only hear the lasers leaving the bounty hunter’s blaster, but none of them hit you. Instead, they hit something metallic, making them bounce off. You lifted your head slightly and your breath got stuck in your throat as you realized what was happening. Mando had wrapped his arms around you and spun you so his body was shielding you and the kid from the lasers, his back facing the bounty hunters, instead of yours. You couldn't do anything, except for staring at his visor in pure shock while he silently stared back, not even tilting his helmet in question. Him moving his hands behind your back stayed mostly unnoticed by you. Only when the whistling birds already struck down the bounty hunters that were left did you realized what he had done.

The echo of the blasters suddenly stopped, leaving the small side street in complete silence with the only exception being your still widely beating heart hammering against your ribs. The first one to move was neither Mando nor you but the Child, who was tugged in between the two of you. Wiggling and stretching his arms out he cooed at the Mandalorian whose helmet lowered to look at him. Slowly he loosened his grip on you, though his arms still stayed wrapped around you. If you didn't know it any better you would have said he was afraid you would disappear if he let go. But you didn't mind his hold on you, your legs were shaking uncontrollably and you would probably have slumped down on the ground without him. "Are you hurt?" he asked and glanced back at you, his voice frantic. You shook your head and let out a breathy sigh. "No-o" you said and gasped for air, your heart pumping hard against your chest in relief, before you directed your gaze to the little one. "We're okay. B-but I need a moment." You let your forehead fall against Mando’s armored chest and just focused on your breathing. The Mandalorian didn't move or interject, instead he tightened his arms around you again, giving you not only stability but comfort, too. You closed your eyes and tried to stop the shaking of your body. The adrenaline had vanished and only left the fear behind that was still closing its claws around you. You gulped, realizing that you almost ... that you could have died. A cold shiver ran down your spine as your breath hitched. This could have been the end of your journey. You could have... "We need to go" Mando spoke up, his voice caring an apologetic tone. You nodded against his chest, understanding that you had to leave the planet before more bounty hunters could arrive. You bit your lip and straightened up, taking a step back the Mandalorian let his arms slip from you, bringing them back to his sides. "Let's go" you agreed, trying to cover the waver of your voice with a small smile.

You held the Child pressed against your chest the whole remaining way back to the Razor Crest. His soft squeaks kept your mind at ease and focusing on his big, curious eyes made you forget about what almost happened. At least for the time being. Luckily, you didn't walk into any more bounty hunters. Though you could only take a deep breath of relief when the hangar closed tightly behind you. You only half-heartedly noticed Mando gently pushing you down onto the edge of his cot by the shoulders. You stared at the ground before you, still hugging the little one against your chest, and didn't even register the Razor Crest taking off. The short startle of the jump into hyperspace was also left unnoticed. Only when the Child was softly taken out of your arms did you look up at the Mandalorian, who had come back down. You didn't protest as he put the little one into his hammock where he promptly fell asleep.

"You should get some rest" the Mandalorian suggested, one of his hands resting on your shoulder, the leather of his glove brushing against the skin of your neck. The sensation left small tingles behind which would have made you sigh if you weren’t so tense. And even though you would have loved to, you knew sleep wasn't an option for you right now. "I can't-" you choked out and lowered your eyes to stare at your still shaking hands. You clenched them to fists and bit your lip. And even though the Mandalorian didn't speak up, did you know what he was asking when his hand wandered from your shoulder to your neck and cheek. You leaned into his touch, closed your eyes and wished to just fall asleep in his comforting presence, to just be able to forget this day. "I haven't been able to sleep properly ever since I joined you" you confessed, your voice faint. "But it has gotten worse over the last few weeks." "What can I do to help you?" the Mandalorian asked sincerely concerned. You couldn't help the soft chuckle escaping from your mouth. "Can you stay?" you hummed even though you knew he couldn't. This wasn't necessarily the worst sleeping position you were in since the last couple of weeks, but also not one of the best. However, if you moved to your bed or to the cockpit now, you would be wide awake once more. But Mando probably didn’t want to and couldn’t stay in that position anyway. You sighed at the warmth of his touch, relishing the moment for a few seconds more before you would have to stand up. But then Mando pulled away, making you open your eyes in an instant. You were about to stand up from his cot when he suddenly kneeled down before you. Freezing in place you stared at his visor that stayed trained on your face. Every word you could have said got stuck in your throat when he grabbed your legs and slipped your shoes off. You couldn't even ask him what he was doing, though your face probably gave that thought away. He placed your shoes neatly beside the entrance to his cot before slipping his off, too, which only left you even more confused. You blinked at him in lack of understanding, searching for words.

"What are you doing?" you managed to ask when he had stood up and took a step closer. He was now directly in front of you, his body so close you could feel the warmth that radiated from him and it springing over to you. He was so close that you had to put your head back to keep your eyes focused on his helmet. "Staying with you" he only answered. Before you could ask further questions, he suddenly picked you up with one arm underneath your legs and the other bracing your back. Your eyes grew wide as you just clung onto him, unable to protest. Somehow Mando managed to get you two settled into his cot with him lying on his back, almost taking in all the space, and you on your side, trying to squeeze into the space that was left. Nevertheless, you had to press against him with your head lying on his armored shoulder. You didn't dare to breathe, didn't dare to move at all and just watched Mando for a while. He had his hands clasped on top of his stomach, the visor of his helmet pointed to the ceiling, harshly reflecting the still switched-on lights of the ship. He didn’t move and you began to wonder if he had already fallen asleep. But then you thought about how he was even supposed to fall asleep that way in his bed, completely dressed in his armor. Wasn’t he uncomfortable? You furrowed your brows, your eyes still trained on his helmet. Or did he always sleep that way? Fully dressed in his armor? Unmovingly on his back like a rock?

"Sleep."

You couldn't help the squeak spilling over your lips as you flinched in embarrassment, making the Mandalorian chuckle lowly. He had noticed you staring, obviously. You cursed at yourself and ducked your head in, trying to sink into yourself and appear smaller while your cheeks heated up. Embarrassed you stared at your hands, refusing to meet the Mandalorian’s gaze again. His shoulders shook lightly from his silent laughter. Then he grabbed the blanket, draping it over the two of you before he pushed a button on the side of the wall which switched off the lights and closed the door to the cot. You were grateful for the darkness as your face definitely gave away your flustered state. For a few moments you focused on Mando's regular breathing through the modulator, feeling his body move next to you to the almost completely silent rhythm. You mimicked his relaxed breathing, trying to clear your thoughts and focusing on only that and not the close proximity you had to each other. And before you knew it your body relaxed and you fell asleep, tightly pressed against him.

_______________

You were relieved and grateful to Mando for finally having found some sleep through his help, but you would be lying if you said it was a comfortable slumber.

You had awoken alone in Mando's cot. Well, not completely alone. The kid was still sleeping in his hammock above you and the pain in your back was now also a new companion. Spending one night cramped into one tiny space with a man completely dressed in cold, hard armor probably wasn't the best idea. Nevertheless, you had slept and for the first time in weeks you felt somewhat well rested, back pain brushed aside.

You groaned and set up, rubbing your eyes and wondered how you didn't notice Mando leaving. In the tight space that was his bed you surely would have felt him move, right? Well, apparently you had been far too out of it for that. You were somewhat impressed at yourself for having fallen so deeply asleep but your body probably had just passed out, far too exhausted to keep being alert even in your sleep.  You yawned, searched for the button to open the cot and then crawled to its edge to put your shoes back on, noticing that Mando's were gone. You stood up and glanced at the Child but when you noticed that he was still soundly asleep, you silently walked to the ladder and climbed up. Once you were at the top you stopped and stared at the back of Mando's helmet, suddenly feeling very unsure of yourself. Sleeping next too him was the most intimate gesture he had shared with you. And even though that wasn’t really something big normally, you had shared a bed with friends before, this felt different. Somehow it felt intrusive and very exciting at the same time. You felt special but flustered none the less. Then you huffed and shook your head, clearing it from those thoughts. 'We only shared a bed' you told yourself. There was nothing special about that, right? Well, maybe not with any other person. But with Mando every small step felt like a miracle, like a risk to take even though being close to him was nothing new to you anymore. You held hands, you saw and felt his skin underneath the leather gloves, you even sat on his lap a few times while in hyperspace. But nothing ever felt so intimate than lying next to him in his small cot, even if you had a sore back now because of that. Alone the memory of it made your heart speed up again. Never had so simple gestures felt so exciting to you. And then the desire hit you that you wanted more, wanted to be closer to the man behind the beskar. And that thought suddenly scared you. You shook your head once more and forced yourself to sit down into one of the copilot seats. You stared out of the window, too afraid to meet the Mandalorian's gaze should he tilt his head to you, too afraid he would somehow know what you were thinking. You felt torn. Torn between wanting to embrace whatever this was and scared to know what he wanted, what he thought. Scared to know what exactly this was. It wasn’t a simple partnership anymore, not just a crew you happened to join. This was something that set your heart aflame whenever you were near him. But you didn’t want to ask. You didn’t want to know his answer. As long as he didn’t tell you what this was to him you could continue to pretend, to relish these moments that meant so much to you.

You folded your hands and placed them in your lap to stop yourself from fiddling with your thumbs. The silence was uncommonly heavy, pressing down on your shoulders and pinning you to the seat. "Thank you" you whispered after many minutes of complete silence and glanced at the Mandalorian through the corners of your eyes. He only hummed and nodded, not turning to meet your eyes.

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The rest of your day was filled with the giggles and squeals of the Child as you played with him to distract yourself form your thoughts. You couldn't stand being in the cockpit alone with Mando today, so you had passed the time and busied yourself with caring for the kid. That was until he had fallen asleep in your arms at the end of the day, or at least you guessed another day had passed. Keeping track of it in hyperspace was still rather hard for you. You had put the little one to bed and were now standing in front of him, in front of Mando’s cot, unsure what to do. Glancing at your own bed you felt your stomach tighten. You already knew you would only turn from side to side without finding any rest in there. The only option to find any sort of sleep would be next to Mando. You sighed and climbed back up to sit down into one of the copilot seats only to almost run into the Mandalorian as the door to the cockpit slid open suddenly before you. You froze, your face only inches away from his chest. You took a deep breath before you slowly lifted your head until you could look into his visor. When he didn’t move to the side or reacted at all, you furrowed your brows at him in question. "Aren't you tired?" he asked and gently took your hand in his. It was the first time that he had talked to you today. The rest of the day had always been filled with awkward silence, something you had always feared should you ask the questions that were circling in your head, something you had wanted to prevent by staying silent, but now it was too late. He tilted his head at you when you didn't react. For a few moments you were overwhelmed and struggled for words. "Ehm, well, yeah but-" you weren't able to finish your sentence, though you weren't even sure what you had wanted to say anyway, when Mando squeezed your hand and nodded to the ladder. Understanding what he wanted to signal to you, you let your hand slip from his and began to climb back down, Mando following close behind. You were back where you had stood before, not knowing what to do. When Mando slipped his shoes off you did the same, just so you had something to occupy your mind with. When he turned to look at you, you stayed put where you were, frozen in place with your heart hammering against your ribs, begging you to let it escape. Did he really want to sleep in his armor again just so you could find some sort of relaxation, some form of comfort through his presence? Not to forget how painful it was to wake up earlier today for you, then you couldn’t possible imagine how it had to be for him. You suppressed the wince that would have spilled over your lips other wise and shook your head. Now wasn't about your comfort during sleep, but Mando's. And sleeping in armor definitely couldn’t be comfortable or even good for him. He should be able to relax in his ship and not be reminded of his job, his chaotic life through the armor he wore during the day and now at night, too.

"Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in your armor?" you asked sincerely concerned and not just to gain some more seconds to try and sort your mind. Mando only shrugged his shoulders, while you rubbed the back of your neck that still felt a little stiff from this morning. "You don't have to-" you wanted to explain to him that he didn't have to do this for you when he would be uncomfortable as a result, that you would just try to sleep in your bed again so he felt comfortable enough to take the armor off and sleep alone in his cot. But every word got stuck in your throat when he did something you never thought your eyes would ever witness. He took off his armor, piece by piece, right in front of you. Your eyes grew wide and your mouth fell slightly open. "What-" you only managed to croak out as your eyes wandered over his form, the last piece of armor he still wore being his helmet and the rest of his clothing being what he wore underneath, a simple shirt and pants. You couldn't help yourself, you couldn't keep yourself from staring at him. His shoulders were still broad and wide even without the armor but only now did you notice his slender waist. You gulped and stopped your eyes from moving lower, bringing them back up, only for your heart to leap into your throat as you stared at his chest and arms that were now only covered by a dark, long-sleeved shirt. You already knew Mando was physically strong but the shirt did nothing to hide the muscles flexing in his arms and shoulders even when he was only standing before you. Why did you feel like he was standing bare before you when he only took his armor off and was still standing before you fully clothed? You felt your face heat up and your breath getting shallow at that thought. Your body tensed as you forced your eyes to stay on Mando's visor. You had embarrassed yourself enough already.

He hadn’t said anything when he had taken off his armor nor when he stepped closer to you, directing you backwards to the cot. When the back of your knees hit the edge you stumbled, almost falling on your back but Mando grabbed your hand and kept you upright. "Careful" he chuckled. Your face grew even hotter as you bit your lip, suppressing the mindless blabber that would have escape you otherwise. Slowly he lowered your still tilted off-center body until you found yourself on the exact same spot as yesterday. It felt rather surreal and you kept wondering if you weren’t just dreaming right now. Maybe you were still asleep? But when your eyes glanced at his exposed neck, the skin sun-kissed and flexing over his muscles in such detail, you were sure you couldn’t make this up during your sleep, that this had to be real. "Mando, I-" you began but he shushed you. "Let's just get some sleep, okay?" You nodded and stood up, letting Mando settled into his bed first. He laid down like he had yesterday, flat on his back with his arms on his stomach. For a second you hesitated, staring down at him before you followed him into the tight space, plopping down on your side with your back to him and snuggling underneath the blanket he had already draped over himself. You felt far too flustered to face him right now, especially with the lights still on. Without a word he closed the door to the cot and switched the lights off. You gulped, somehow feeling Mando's side pressed against your back even more prominently than before. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, snuggling deeper into the blanket in an attempt to make yourself fall asleep faster. Only to suddenly realize that everything in the cot smelled like the Mandalorian, smelled like something metallic (his beskar) mixed with something earthy, something grounding, something soothing. Heat immediately rushed back into your cheeks and your body tensed. Oh Maker, how were you supposed to fall asleep now? With Mando's scent in your nose and his body tightly pressed against you, you definitely couldn't. You didn't really feel uncomfortable but to say this position did anything for your still slightly sore back and neck was also not correct. And that your heart racing uncontrollably fast didn't help you in any way either. You couldn't relax like this.

Your eyes darted around in the dark as you tried to jump over your shadow and control your rapid breathing. Then, before you could back out again, you turned around underneath the blanket so you would have faced the Mandalorian if the lights were on. He didn't react or at least as far as you were aware. He could surely be looking at you through his visor, that probably had night vision, without moving his head. You gulped before carefully placing your hand on his chest. You felt him tense underneath your touch instantly, signaling you that he wasn't asleep yet. You felt how your cheeks heated up even more when your fingers brushed his muscular chest instead of the cold, hard beskar armor you were used to by now. "Mando?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling nervously while you patiently waited for an answer even after many seconds of silence. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable enough to answer you before you tried anything else. "Yes?" he finally said and you felt his head moving beside you ever so slightly. "Are you comfortable?" you questioned further. Another few seconds of silence followed in which the only thing you could focus on was how close you were to the unarmed Mandalorian. You could feel every muscle on his chest underneath your touch, still a bit tense but slowly loosening up more and more. You could feel his soothing warmth even more, now that the beskar wasn't in the way. You bit your lip, suppressing a sigh. "It's alright" he only answered, leaving your question rather unsatisfied. You took a deep breath, trying to stop your body from shaking and forced yourself to speak up again. "I am not" you whispered and felt him tense up again underneath your touch. You felt his head move once more, probably now completely turned to face you. He didn't say anything, just stared at you through the darkness. You struggled for words for a while, unsure how to continue without making him uncomfortable, without sounding too demanding. Then you lightly shook your head as far as that was possible lying on your side next to him. "Could you-" you began but bit your lip. Collecting all the courage you had left you forced yourself to continue. "Could you turn on your side?"

You stared into the darkness, at the unmoving Mandalorian as your pulse quickened. Nobody moved and you began to fear that you had overstepped a boundary. Maker, he had taken off his armor in front of you for the very first time. This must be even more uncomfortable for him than you. You gritted your teeth, cursing at yourself. You should have stayed silent and just tried to sleep. About to apologize you opened your mouth only to suddenly feel movement beside you. Before you knew it the Mandalorian laid on his side, but not like you had expected it with his back facing you, but with his chest. Your heart leaped into your throat, leaving you breathless and unable to form the words you had wanted to say out loud. You froze, your whole body tensed up in disbelief. "Is that better?" he asked, his voice an almost inaudible whisper. "Yeah" you croaked out. The silence that followed was deafening, making the beat of your heart even more audible and you were sure Mando must have been able to hear it, too. Your brain shut off, leaving you alone in the dark, helpless. How were you supposed to sleep now?! With your eyes wide you stared in front of you, stared into the darkness where Mando's chest was, only inches away from your face. You almost yelped in panic when you noticed that your hand was still touching him, pressed against his unarmored chest. But you couldn't move away. Was your mind blank only seconds before was it now swarming and crowded with thousand of thoughts.

You flinched when you suddenly felt a featherlight touch on your waist. You needed a few seconds to process that it was Mando's un-gloved hand. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice so soft his modulator didn't even pick it up. You realized that this was Mando's real voice, not the distorted sound of his helmet but what he would sound like without it. A shower of tingles wandered down your body, leaving you breathless. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the words. "Ye-yeah." Mando let his arm sneak around your waist, wrapping it around you and slowly pulling you against his chest. You didn't even notice that you were the one to tangle your legs with his, it felt intuitive. Suddenly you felt really dizzy. Was this really happening right now? You grabbed Mando's shirt with your shaking fingers and buried your head in his chest in a stupid attempt to hide. Because the moment you had to take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, you only grew even more dizzy when his scent filled your nose. You cursed silently in your mind. But even through all of this, did you notice how your body slowly relaxed under this touch and warmth. Involuntary, you let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes.

"Thank you, Mando" you managed to whisper after probably minutes of silence. The Mandalorian didn't immediately retort anything to that and instead tightened his grip on your waist and squeezed the hand of his free arm between the two of you to place it on to of your hands that were still pressed firmly against his chest. "Din." You lifted your head to look at where his eyes must be hidden behind the darkness and furrowed your brows in lack of understanding. "What?" you asked confused. "Please. Call me Din." Your eyes widen and your face grew even hotter if that was even possible at that point. He ... he just revealed his name to you? Your breath hitched. He just revealed his name to you. "Din" you tested his name on your tongue in a hushed tone. The Mandalorian went rigid as he sucked in a sharp breath and you feared you had misunderstood him but then he pressed you even closer to him, making your heart skip a beat. You gasped for air in shock when he nestled into your hair as you felt his chin on top of your head and not the cold helmet. His legs had sneaked around yours, pinning you against him but you didn't feel trapped. Quite the opposite, you actually enjoyed his tight embrace. "Din?" you asked, your voice wavering noticeably. The grip around your waist tightened for a split second as he tried to stifle his sigh, making you chuckle and melt against him. "Din" you said again with a cheeky smile on your lips. The Mandalorian growled against you, making you jump in surprise. "Are you trying to torture me, cyar'ika?" he asked, his voice husky and low. You paused, not quite understanding what he meant by that. "What-" you began, shifting in his hold so you would be looking at his face in confusion if it weren't so dark. For a few seconds you just stared and thought until your eyes widen in realization as your mind caught on. "When was the last time someone called you by your name?" you asked in a hush. "Can't remember" he answered you in a low growl as he pressed himself against you. Your cheeks burned again in an instant as you struggled for words once more. Din’s breath stuttered through the modulator, his chest heaving against yours. You wondered if his mind was as blank as yours was but then he suddenly let go of your waist and instead grabbed both of your hands before you could collect yourself enough to react to any of the things he had said, to the things he had revealed to you. For a few moments he just drew soothing circles on the backs of your hands, tracing your soft skin as if it was the first time he felt it. Then he directed them upwards and placed them on each side of his helmet. After that no one moved and you barely dared to breathe. You hadn't touched his helmet before, always far too afraid since it seemed to be the most important part of his creed. But the only thing on your mind wasn’t your surprise at that and instead you could only focus on how the coldness of the beskar underneath your hands and the warmth of Din's hand on top sent shivers down your spine.

"(Y/N)?" You hummed in response, still unable to speak up, your mind far too clouded. "You can take it off." Your body stiffened as you blinked in confusion. Did he really just say that? You must have imagined that, right? Right? "B-but your creed?" you objected, staring into the darkness. "It's okay as long as you can't see my face" he explained, squeezing your hands before leaving them alone on his helmet as he wrapped his arms back around your waist, lifting you a bit further up so you were face to face with him. Your hands were still cupping the sides of his helmet as you sucked in a sharp breath. Were you really about to do this? It felt wrong even though he had asked you to. It felt … intimate. "Please, cyar'ika. Let me be close to you." Din's pleading voice and the foreign nickname send shivers down your spine. Your breath hitched as you pushed all your worries to the side and slowly lifting the helmet up. Its hiss echoed in your ears as you held your breath, your heart beating so strong you felt it in your throat. You pushed it up over his hair that brushed your hands, leaving tingles behind. Then you placed the helmet to the side and gasped when you felt Din's breath on your face. The sensation left you dizzy as your heart began to drum relentlessly against your chest. Your hands felt useless as they floated in the air, not knowing where to put them. For many seconds you didn’t dare to move before you squeezed one of your hands back between the two of you, placing it on his chest before taking a deep breath.

"Can I?" you asked in a whisper, your other hand hovering over where his cheek must be hiding in the darkness. A soft "Yeah" escaped Din's mouth and you didn't waste another second and gently placed your hand on his face. The sensation and his warmth left you with a feeling you couldn’t quite place or understand. Slowly you began to outline his features, let your hand wander from his chin up to his ear, feeling his strong jar and the slight stubble that adorned it. The combined feeling of his surprisingly soft skin and rougher stubble left you breathless. You let your hand placed on his cheek for a few moments, trying to collect your thoughts and failing miserably. You sucked in a sharp breath and carefully continued to let your fingers wander to his forehead, tracing his eyebrow you felt how his eyes fluttered close. Then your touch traveled back down, mapping out the shape of his nose. In the end your fingers hovered over his lips and you felt his breath against them as they trembled. Gently you placed them on his chin and felt your way up to his bottom lip. You traced the outline of his mouth in a trance and when he chuckled against you, you didn’t even flinch and joined in. Your fingers found their way further up, to the corner of his lips, feeling the stubble above his lips form into a mustache. You chuckled again. He took your breath away. "Beautiful" you whispered as you continued to caress the corner of his mouth. You felt it crinkle up in a smile as Din laughed, the rumble of it vibrating in your chest, the sound hypnotizing you. "Mesh'la" he responded in a hushed tone, as he drew your faces closer. You weren't sure what the word meant but you didn't really care right now. His scent so metallic yet earthy, so soft yet sensual and warm it left you breathless and with your thoughts spinning, craving more. Your heart hammered against your ribs, screaming and begging for a few more millimeters, only a small push forward. You were sure Din was able to feel the echo of your heart against his own chest. He shifted lightly against you, wrapping his legs around you more, and tightening his grip on your waist, drawing your body even closer even though not a single hair could fit in between you two anymore. Your sleepiness was completely forgotten by now as you stared into the darkness, not able to close your eyes even though you couldn't even see anything. But you didn't need your eyes to see him, to know how beautiful he was. He lowered his head, placing his forehead against yours. You were glad to note that you weren't the only one whose breath stuttered over your lips at that. You couldn't help but melt into him, soaking in his warmth and the feeling of comfort, the feeling of belonging right there with him. Feeling like this was all that life was, feeling safe and protected. At peace. You let your hand wander to his hair, burying your fingers into his locks. The slight tug made Din growl once more, the sound low and dangerous, teasing and daring you to continue. You smiled and brushed his hair back, taking part in the game he dared you to play with him, no matter the consequences. You wanted to see what he would do, you wanted more. All those months of faint touches, whispers of being close to one another, had left you even more touch-starved then before, even more desperate. You didn’t care for the unspoken boundaries anymore. You just wanted to let yourself fall into your desire, a desire Din seemed to share. Slowly one of his hands crept up the back of your neck to also bury his fingers in your hair. The sensation made you gasp and your hair stand on end. You were sure Din was grinning at that, proud and pleased. Out of instinct you freed one of your legs from his and draped it over his waist, seeking to be even closer to him, even though his whole body was already pressed against you and his lips so close that you could feel the ghost of his breath on yours. It made you shiver in anticipation. Pressing your forehead even more against his you took a deep breath, taking in his soothing scent. Only a few millimeters more and you would have the closeness you sought. Only a few millimeters closer to fulfill the whishes of your heart. Only a few millimeters closer and you would have known how his lips felt dancing against your own.

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Tigaanur Series: Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | MASTERLIST

No kisses, hehehehe. Want to have a third part with them kissing? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Then leave a comment and reblog! Feedback is always highly appreciated, it keeps me motivated and I’d just like to know what y’all think and if you liked it!

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Taglists:

Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty​​ / ...

Din Djarin Simps: ... looking for members! ...

If you want to be added to any taglist just write me a message!

[itsagrimm]

Imperial!Tech 2

Is it even romantic without murder?

Imperial!Tech is a delight and I am worried why I have fun writing a murderous lost nerdy boi. will likely do a part 3.

about 2.000 words

part 1

Part 3

CN insults, violence, murder, discriminatory behaviour, very toxic behaviour, soldier life in a fascist state, tiny bit of fluff or Manipulation depends on your perspective, blood, pain, talk of injury. imperial!Tech is a bit of a tease but he will come around

Imperial!tech X they*them Y/N reader

“This will not suffice. Repeat.”, Commander Tech ordered.

His command was calm and detached, a contrast to the exhausted and heavily panting Elite Squad soldiers.

They looked at each other. None of them having the strength to continue their practice. But also none of them having the will to argue with their commander.

Y/N looked up to the observatory deck. Commander Tech was up there, his black armour contrasting with the white walls.

“Is there a problem, ONCE?”, the voice of the commander echoed in Y/N helmet, using the moniker the elite squad had given Y/N.

“No sir. Can we get a short break before a new try?”

The commander glanced down before looking at the holopad in his hands again.

“The elite squad endurance and recovery time is miserable as expected. I calculated your performance to be at least on par with regular clone troopers. I see now that it was a mistake, and I will have to lower my expectation further & readjust my strategies to your … lacking skill level.”

“I am sorry, sir.”

“It is not your mistake to be born inferior.”, the commander stated flattly, “Your next round will be in 5 minutes standard.”

The Elite Squad looked at each other. Their commander was in a mood. Since his injury on Bracca the Squad had not been in action and commander Tech worked them into the ground with his bone breaking practice runs.

“It is impossible.”, ES-02 said using a private chat without the commander, “Who is he comparing us to? The commanders’ expectations are inhuman. Only some kind of super squad could execute his mind-boggling plans in the time he gives us.”

They nodded in agreement.

“He expects us to be at least as good as the regular clone troopers.”, ES-04 stated.

ES-03 laughed: “Yeah we are better than thosemeat droids. And what does he mean with regular clones? Is there even fancier cannon fodder out there?”

“Commander Tech is noticeably different from other clones. Maybe there are more like him out there?”, Y/N pointed out.

“Oh maker, imagine more copies of that pretentious smart mouth up there.” ES-03 rolled his eyes.

“Get in position and execute plan 8C.3 .”, the commanders voice cut through their chatter. ONCE felt as if they got caught bad mouthing Tech.

“Yes sir.”, they replied and got into position.

A ping from a private channel ringed. It was ES-03.

“You are quiet protective of our commander Tech, my dear ONCE. Is there something I need to know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, … it is always ‘yes sir’ and ‘of course sir’ and sometimes you are both gone in the night. And our dear commander got a lovely visit in the med bay when he was wounded. You even bring him caf somet-“

“ES-03, mind your business.”

“No need to get so aggressive. I am sure it is nothing. And I am sure it is just a coincidence that he leaves you out of punishments or giving you the safest positions in his strategies…”

ONCE said nothing.

Since that time in the hangar the commander had some allure and to admit that meant a defeat ONCE could not afford.

“Well my dearest ONCE, got nothing to say about that? I-“

Static cut through their transmission.

“ES-03, I must inform you that I am very disappointed by your unprofessional behaviour within the Elite Squad which I will not tolerate anymore.”

“Commander? Is that you?”

“Yes of course, who else did you expect?”

ES-03 turned around and looked up to the observatory deck.

Commander Tech’s expression was unreadable, his eyes hidden by the reflecting glasses.

For a moment none of them moved. Then ES-03 took of his helmet and started shouting.

“Are you spying on us? Are you listening to all our private conversations???”, he screamed with a red head.

The commanders lips moved but up there and without his helmet ES-03 could not hear the commanders answer.

“Calm down”, ES-04 tried to defuse her squad member’s anger.

“I am NOT calming down! The sick dirty clone listens to our private channels!”

“Mate, it is not worth it to start a fight like this now.”, ES-02 added, “put your weapon down and think about it.”

“Are you serious??? Do you think I am a threat with this crappy old DC-17? A danger to any of you?! No, it’s this meat bag of a clone who should be afraid of me!”

ONCE flinched at ES-03’s words and readied their weapon.

He was out.

An angry man was a dangerous man.

ONCE former life as a bounty hunter had taught them this lesson well.

Static cut through their helmet again before ONCE heard commander Techs voice.

“Tell ES-03 that the Empire has issued an order to all commanding officers to listen into all communication of their soldiers. It is also very much encouraged to record it.”

“Are you sure that will calm him down, sir?”

“I don’t care about that. He either learns how to live with imperial command or he does not.”

“You are testing him.”

Tech paused.

“Follow your orders, soldier.”

He cut the transmission.

ES-03 was still shouting. His spit landed on ONCE helmet when he turned toward them.

“What did that clone say, my dearONCE??? You two just talked, didn’t you?!”

He sounded furious. His eyes burning like laser blasts into ONCE body.

“He said, checking all communication between soldiers is the new imperial standard to which the commander simply has complied.”

“Fuck that!”

ES-03 stepped closer, his DC-17 blaster still in his hands.

“Fuck that! Fuck that clone! Fuck the Empire! Fuck YOU, you little imperial whore!”

He raised his blaster, aiming for ONCE.

ONCE got cold. Trained instincts kicking in. They rolled sideways behind one of the training blocks to avoid the shot.

A blue blast slightly grazed their helmet, but the adrenaline made it impossible to tell whether or not ONCE got hit.

“ES-03! Stand down!”, Tech’s voice commandeered from somewhere close. He must have left the observatory deck.

“HA! What are you going to do, little nerdy boi? Do you want to protect your little pet over there?! Don’t even try! You are not even a real man!”

Another blue blast shot through the air.

ONCE could hear the Tech and other Squad members taking cover.

“He really did go full rage.”

“Not everyone is cut out for the soldier life.”

“Not everyone is cut out for the Empire!”

“What do we do?”

“Cut the chatter, soldiers”, Tech commandeered, “Take ES-03 out. Shot to kill.”

“Sir?!”

“We can stun him!”

Instead of an answer Tech jumped over the training block he was couching behind and kicked ES-03. ONCE heard the blaster slide over the floor and the sound of fists colliding with skin.

Over and over again.

The sound got wetter.

ES-03’s screams turned into pleas before going silent.

XXXXXXX

Another rotation on Kamino. Another dark night in the bunk room of the Imperial Elite Squad. Another nightmare.

Y/N woke up and looked around. Everything was calm except for the rain knocking at the window and the slow breaths from their fellow soldiers. Commander Tech was missing as always.

Weeks since the Commander had been hurt on Bracca. Days since ES-03 s death. Hours since he – since Tech – had looked at y/n. Why was that such a painful thought? He was a horrible man, a murderer!

He is just a good soldier, he follows orders. Just like you.

Y/N closed their eyes. Pictures of Tech beating ES-03 to death flashed before their eyes and with them the realization that whatever crimes and murders Tech committed, Y/N committed them alongside him. Two monstrous beings in service of a monstrous Empire.

The door to the bunkroom opened silently, only a light draft giving away the silhouette in the door frame. Y/N glanced to the door. It was the commander. He looked at the sleeping elite squad members and through the room as if he was searching for something.

Y/N got up on their elbows and looked at the commander.

Their eyes met.

“ONCE”, he whispered, “Come with me.”

Y/N got into their boots and followed the commander. The long white halls of Tipoca, the kaminoan capital, were empty and quiet. Tech lead the way but surprisingly they passed the hangar and soon arrived at his little office.

He turned around.

“I require your assistance, ONCE.”, he explained in a calm voice, using the moniker the elite squad had given Y/N.

“Now?”, ONCE answered.

“Yes, now.”

They looked at each other. Tech looked horrible. He had dark circles under his eyes so prominent, that even his glasses couldn’t hide them. His head wound from Bracca had left severe, still bloody scars and his hair was unkept and in patches from the burn he survived.

“What is it, commander?”

Instead of an answer he opened the door to his office. It was a little room, full of unfinished projects and gadgets, a wall scribbled with complex formulars ONCE was not in the mood to fathom and a littered table with various unfinished reports.

The workspace of the commander surprised ONCE. It was a stark contrast to the thoroughly planning and executing commander they knew.

“Can you cut my hair?”

“Sorry, sir?”

ONCE turned away from the room and faced the commander. His face was reserved but his voice had a telling neediness in it. The commander, Tech, he needed help.

“Well, I cut my own hair. I can try cutting yours. But I am no professional.”

He nodded.

“I noticed.”, he paused and smiled apologetically for his ambiguous phrasing, “That you cut your own hair, I mean.”

ONCE was speechless. He had smiled.

“I have my personal reservations towards the imperial service corps and their droid hairdressers. And the other option is to ask another trooper since I do not have the skill to cut my hair. But quite frankly the thought of trained regular soldiers having blades near my throat and more importantly my still healing wounds being opened up by some well meaning yet bad practising self-learned barber, is distressing which is why I require you to cut my hair.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“I was not aware of the need for sunlight in order to cut hair. Can you elaborate?”

ONCE suppressed a smile.

“I am sorry, sir. The circumstances are just a bit unusual. But I can try cutting your hair. And I do not plan on cutting your throat.”

“Good to know.”

He nodded casually, satisfied with ONCE’s answer, and produced a hair clipper from somewhere before seating himself on a chair with his back towards them. It was a captivating moment. ONCE looked at the hair clipper in their hand with its tiny blades and the commanders turned back to them. He had defined yet narrow shoulders for a soldier and a muscular back, visible through the thigh blacks. His bare neck was visible, and his occipital moved under his skin when he turned and looked at ONCE.

“It is alright. Feel free to give me whatever hair cut you choose to be fitting. As long as it is functional, I am content.”

ONCE breathed in. That was the commander. And they were about to cut his hair like they were good ol’pals or family. Like they were more. It was a sign of trust so unusual on Kamino, yet he had asked for it.

“You will need to take your glasses of.”

He complied and waited.

ONCE touched his hair to feel its texture before cutting. It was soft. Like a child’s.

They started cutting both sides to even out the burned parts and help with the sensitive skin around his scars before shortening the rest. Burned curls after curls fell on his shoulders and he brushed them away with his hands.

His hands. His murderous hands. They were large and had long fingers with little cuts from tinkering around. How did it feel being touched by them?

ONCE finished cutting, walked around Tech to look at the commander and squatted to see him from an even perspective. He looked good.

“This will work, sir.”

Instead of an answer he stretched his arm out and grabbed ONCE’s jaw.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He got up and turned away.

Part 3

[fulcrumqueenrebelfriend]

TBB & Kiya: Chapter 7

Chapter 1 >>

The mission to protect Lord Timere was more or less successful and The Bad Batch and Kiya had landed on a planet to refuel and give repairs to the marauder.

Right now Kiya was scouting a perimeter around the ship with Tech as soon as they were alone he started asking the questions; mainly who was she? Kiya only gave non committal shrugs and small worded answers before changing the topic. This annoyed the genius man, as he always liked to have information on everything and everyone. Now he wouldn't stop until he'd unearthed whatever secrets this purple eyed lady was hiding.

"Wait." She said suddenly holding a hand up, stopping in her tracks.

"Did you see that?" She asked in a whisper, and Tech looked confused and shook his head while whispering a no. Their hands hovered over their blasters in their holsters. Kiya knew she had sensed something and became tense and alert as she waited to see if she sensed it again. She used the binoculars clipped to her belt to scan their surroundings but saw nothing switching to heat signatures to detect anyone hiding anywhere nearby. "Get down!" Kiya shouted, not waiting for Tech to reply as she pushed the man and herself to the ground just before lasers could hit them.

Once Tech realized they were under attack he got up and they took cover behind a fallen tree.

"How did you know they were there?" Tech asked as he took out his blaster, peered over the tree and shot down someone before ducking behind the tree again to her the answer.

"I don't know, I just did!" She replied loud enough so he could hear over the blaster fire. Tech pressed the side of his helmet to comm Hunter.

"Hunter, come in! Hunter, are you there?" Receiving no reply, Tech sighed in frustration. "Someone is jamming our comms!" He told Kiya who cursed under her breath. Kiya was already formulating a plan in her mind and put a hand on Tech's shoulder to get his attention.

"You need to warn the others!"

He immediately protested. "You can't handle them on your own!"

"I won't if you go get help! I'll cover you! Go!" Knowing that she was right, he grudgingly got up and started sprinting towards the two ships while Kiya accurately shot down anything that aimed to fire at him. When he made it into the clearing he ran inside the ship.

"What are you doing here?" Hunter asked and then noticed Kiya was missing. "Where's Kiya?"

"In the forest holding her ground against someone, most likely one of the bounty hunters we encountered off-world. She needs us to help her. I tried to contact you but they're jamming our comms."

Kiya was slowly being surrounded when she heard something fall onto the leaf-strewn ground with a dull thud and that something rolled over and stopped 3 feet away from her. The blinking red light and beeping was a dead giveaway. It was a detonator.

"Kriff" Kiya shouted and tried to run but it was too late.

She barely made it ten steps before it went off and the shockwave sent her to the ground.

Kiya drifted from consciousness until she attempted to clear her mind. She had been trained for worse, she couldn't get up right away, too disoriented to do so. This allowed the unknown figure to draw closer.

"Kriff." She repeated, there was a loud ringing in her ears, though and she felt something warm and sticky running down the right side of her face.

Kiya assessed her injuries, her right hand went to touch above her right eyebrow and when Kiya brought it back to her view she saw her fingertips were coated with blood. A piece of debris must have cut her and she was starting to feel the pain set in, but couldn't worry about the condition of her eye right now.

She saw the shadow of two figures and adrenaline kicked in at this realisation and Kiya got up from the ground as quickly as she could and tried to reach for her blasters. She spotted them in the dirt and dragged herself closer.

"Kiya! Are you there? Come in! Are you alright?" They must have unblocked the comms.

She couldn't muster a response as a figure hit her with the butt of their gun and everything went dark.

Kiya didn't know how to feel when she regained consciousness. Despite the fogginess in her head, she distinctly remembered someone hitting her.

Kriff.

Kriff.

Kri..

Chapter 8 >>

@dodi-05

[ashthewaterghoul]

“What if Ahsoka Went to Mustafar”

Chapter 7

Rex’s voice came over the comm link, “The Chancellor is here with a division of the Coruscant guard led by Fox”

“We’ll be right there.” Anakin replied. He looked at Padmé, confusion on her face made him feel guilty; he kissed her and said “I love you, never forget that.” Then he ran out of the room with Obi-Wan. Ahsoka and Yoda were in the hallway and joined them in running to the front of the station. When they got there, Rex was stationed with Organa’s men and they had already engaged the enemy.

“Well, you’ll need these!” Ahsoka said while tossing Anakin and Obi-Wan their weapons. All the force wielders, including Palpatine, had their lightsabers ignited, ready for battle.

“Come, Lord Vader.” Sidious demanded.

“No.” Anakin replied “You lied to me!”

He ran at Sidious and started to attack him.

“Your hatred is giving you strength, you aren’t even trying to supress it, see how powerful the dark side can be?”

Sidious knew what he was doing been as this made Anakin so angry that his eyes glowed red. From then, flashes of red and blue replaced the two men. The fight went on for some time, Palpatine’s acrobatics and Anakin’s lightning fast strikes caused both to start losing their stamina. As Yoda witnessed this, he quickly came up with an idea.

“Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, apart help me push them!”

The two nodded as they all called upon the force to separate the two. Yoda brought Anakin back over to them but the success was short lived as the clone battalion’s incredible combat training paid off and quickly started to overwhelm the opposition. The Jedi’s team were doing their best to keep the clones at bay but it was taking its toll on the Alderaan troops. Being in close proximity to Fox allowed Rex to tune in the frequencies only carried in clone helmets.

“This is Commander Fox to Commander Cody, we need your help, I repeat, we need your help.

“Cody?” Rex thought, but before he could relay the message, Yoda stated his new plan.

“Attack Sidious I will, join one by one you will to assist.” he said.

He used the force and jumped over to Sidious. The Sith was surprised to see the little green Jedi was alive, which briefly played to Yoda’s advantage. The momentary surprise allowed Yoda to slide past Sidious and take his gaze away from the station. Sidious called his second lightsaber down his sleeve to his hand and ignited it, the crimson blade illuminating his disfigured face under his hood. He was determined to finish their business. As his back was turned, Ahsoka ran to join in but Sidious used the force and held Ahsoka back, but she was soon released when Obi- Wan jumped in to attack also. Ahsoka ran to aid the Jedi masters. Even though it was 3 vs 1, Sidious was somehow still getting the upper hand.

“Any time… now… Anakin!” Obi-Wan said struggling and panting.

The flashes of the lightsabers clashing made it almost impossible for Anakin to see where he should jump in. He remembered what Qui-Gon said about staying on the light, he pulled himself into a brief meditation and used the force to see the action. He saw what to do but all the clones were in the way. He couldn’t get past them without killing them, which he didn’t want to do. He looked at Rex who seemed to know what he was thinking.

“You have my permission, if that’s what you were going to say.” He said, after what happened to Fives and Ahsoka, the Coruscant Guard had a lot less respect from Rex.

Anakin nodded at his friend, gripped his lightsaber tighter and practically ran through them, slicing each one of them like a Tusken Raider. It took some time to get through them but in the end he saw his friends becoming more and more fatigued by the very quick combat of the sith. He didn’t know how to do this while staying on the light, he couldn’t, it was impossible; he just dipped back into the dark then, Anakin could already feel it’s seductive nature intoxicating him, clouding his conscious.

“Don’t worry. I am with you, Anakin.” Qui-Gon said through the force. Anakin swore he felt his master’s large hand on his back like he did all those years ago. While he had the courage to do it, he leaped up and flipped over the lightsaber caused chaos. As he landed, he sliced Palpatine in vertically in half. Palpatine grunted before he could take his last breath, and fell to the ground. The three of them stared at Anakin with complete and utter shock. Ahsoka couldn’t look at the mutilated corpse so she turned and ran back to Rex’s aid. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin’s gazes went from each other to the body, all were expressionless. The moment was over powered by the LAAT’s of the 212th legion arriving. Obi-Wan saw his old battalion and flashes of what happened on Utapau invaded his mind.

“Oh, not good.” He said as the orange clad clones descended from the gunships and immediately started to attack.

Rex saw his brother, Cody, for the first time in weeks and decided to try and talk some sense into him. He tried to act like his chip was still in to blend in with the rest.

“Cody!” he shouted,

“Rex!” he replied, happy to see his brother alive. “Or should I say Commander? I do believe that congratulations are in order!”

“Not anymore, demoted.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you another time but for now, what do we do now the Chancellor is, well, dead?” he motioned to the decapitated body. Cody hadn’t even noticed, he was shocked at the sight and left speechless. Before he could respond, Fox ran towards them and said “We carry out Order 66 and execute the people responsible for treason.”

The mention of the command made Rex wince. He saw Cody straighten up and look almost robotic, just like the droids they fought against, programmed to do whatever is needed of them.

“Yes sir!” Cody said and started to run off but stopped when he realised that Rex wasn’t following.

“Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

“What? Oh right yeah.” Rex started to follow Cody, but while he wasn’t looking, he ran to the Jedi generals.

“Order 66 has been activated again for yours and Ahsoka’s termination.” The Captain said.

“Lovely.” Obi-Wan said completely monotone.

“A laughing matter this is not, Obi-Wan.” Yoda scolded “Stop this how do we, Captain?”

“All the clones have an inhibitor chip implanted in their brains; Ahsoka was smart enough to remove mine, but the rest of my men weren’t as lucky.” He turned to Skywalker “Remember when Fives told us about them?”

“He was right?” Anakin responded.

Rex nodded.

“How do we remove these chips?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We need a scanner and a surgery droid or capsule, it’s a short procedure and then they can function normally right after.”

“Look for one of these capsules inside, I will.” Yoda said, he then quickly ran through the commotion and into the station.

The three men ran back to help the other troops, Rex wanted to fight alongside Cody again, but he couldn’t betray his General. He could feel Cody’s confusion as he ran past him to the man-made trench.

“Rex, what are you doing?!” Cody shouted over the comm. Rex quickly thought of an excuse for his behaviour, “Doing it from the inside.” He shouted back.

“Smart move!”

Rex hated that his brother’s unique personality had dissolved to become just like all the other clones. The laser bolts flew between the two sides for a long time until Yoda’s voice finally came through the comm.

“Found the resources for the surgeries I have. Many of the capsules are there.”

“Understood, Master” Obi-Wan replied.

“How do we get them in?” Ahsoka said while blocking rounds of blaster fire.

“Try to pull them over with the force while Rex stuns them. Then Anakin, put them inside and the droids will get to work.” The Jedi master replied.

They all nodded their heads in agreement.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka called to Rex as a trooper flew his way, Anakin dragged them one by one into the lobby onto a gurney which was quickly whisked away to a med-bay.

The clones started to see that there brothers were being forced behind enemy lines.

“They’re taking hostages!” Fox yelled out.

“We need to recue our brothers!” replied Cody.

They started to charge at the station.

“Rex! Get out of there!” Cody shouted.

“No can do, Cody.” He stunned his brother and dragged him in to Skywalker.

“There are too many of them!” Ahsoka said.

“Fall back!” Kenobi ordered.

Everyone went into the station and held the doors shut.

“How many are left out there?” Anakin asked.

“About half, sir.” Rex said.

“That’s too many.”

Bail Organa ran around the corner, “We have clones coming in the south entrance by some of the other med-bays.” he said.

“That’s where Padmé is!” Anakin said “Rex, how many are out of surgery?”

“We have around 20 left to go.” The Captain responded.

“Take them to the south entrance and get ready to evacuate the place if we need to.” he ordered.

“Yes sir.”

Yoda came round the corner.

“Skywalker.” Yoda called

“Master.” Anakin responded.

“Subdue the clones from here we can. Together we must work to do this. All their heads, hit against each other make them, but not too hard or kill them it will.”

Anakin nodded and they both held their hands out, reaching deep into the force. The clones all rose up in the air and all crumpled into a pile on the floor with a loud clang.

“To the med-bays, get them.” Yoda ordered. Everyone there obliged and carried a trooper onto a gurney. Rex ran back from the south entrance.

“All the troops are ready for the procedure.” He reported.

“And Padmé and the twins?” Anakin asked.

“I … I couldn’t see them sir.”

Fear once again rose in Anakin.

I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I couldn’t condense it or find a place to split it into 2. But I guess it makes up for how short the last chapter was😅. Also there is one chapter left of this and then its the epilogue! I hope you enjoyed it and please leave any feedback or suggestions for future fics. Please interact with my posts as much as you can! You can follow me on Instagram if you want @siriusly_a_jedi.

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[metataxy]

Darth Maul post Order 66 fanfic, #17

After Order 66, Darth Maul accidentally acquires a child.  Spoiler alert, it’s Seventh Sister.

This isn’t going on AO3 until I finish and edit the shit out of it, but you can read what I’ve done so far here:

Maul 1, Maul 2, Dathomir 1, Maul 3, Dathomir 2, Maul 4, Dathomir 3 , Dathomir 4, Maul 5, Maul 6, Maul 7, Metane 1, Maul 8, Maul 9, Maul 10, Maul 11, Lothal 1, Seventh as a Nightsister

This is set after Maul 11.  

Warnings for this segment: MORE fighting between Maul and Ventress, amputation, people die.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

<i>The Seeker</i> emerged from hyperspace a mere klic from a Venator.

Metane, propped atop the copilot’s chair, nearly dropped the blaster she’d been reassembling as a message came out of the staticky comm.

“Unidentified spacecraft, this is Imperial Star Destroyer <i>Peacemaker</i>.  Please state your vessel’s name and clearance codes.”

Maul blinked, thought fast, and prepared to lie as well as he ever had in this particular situation.  

“<i>Peacemaker</i>,” he affected a mid-Rim accent, softening his consonants, “this is Zeke Menuel of the trade vessel <i>Centennial</i>.  We’ve been on the Far Rim past few months.  We were raided by pirates and took some damage.” He tweaked the dial on the receptor—not enough to lose radio signal, but enough to introduce some static to his transmission.  “We need to set down, make repairs, maybe get some supplies.”

“Rough luck,” the officer sympathized, but Maul heard some murmuring in the background.  No doubt a supervisor providing instructions.  How unhelpful.  “<i>Centennial</i>” the communications officer repeated, more assertive now, “Identify your port of call?”

“Black Spire Outpost on Batuu,” Maul offered easily.  <i>Centennial</i> was a real vessel, one of several whose specs and records Maul had memorized in the two years since he’d regained his sanity.  The real <i>Centennial</i> belonged to a respectable trader in the Outer Rim who dealt mostly in exotics sourced from pre-industrial worlds in the Far Rim and Unknown Regions.  It wasn’t unlikely that the real Captain Menuel wouldn’t know about the regime change, given that his previous trade missions tended to last a year minimum.

More murmuring in the background.  Maul caught a few words—“ask him”—and scowled at the tedium.  Was he suffering this scrutiny because of a <i>training exercise</i>?

“<i>Centennial</i>, please state how many persons are aboard your vessel.”

“Just myself and my copilot,” he told them, glancing down at Metane.

A moment.  The Venator drifted closer.  “<i>Centennial</i>, our scans indicate another lifeform aboard your ship.”

He’d forgotten the trooper.

“Live cargo,” he demurred.  “An interesting zoological specimen I’m hoping to sell in the Core.”

Were the hangar bay doors opening on the underside of the Venator?  It was impossible to tell from this angle.

A flare of the magnetic field on his console screen was all the warning he had.  He juked the ship upwards, out of range of the tractor beam.

“<i>Unknown ship</i>,” came a familiar voice over the comm.  A clone.  “Imperial records indicate the <i>Centennial</i> was apprehended five days ago and its captain held for questioning.  This is your final chance to identify yourself.  Compliance will allow us greater leniency—”

Maul juked the ship out of the way of an ion beam that would have fried their circuits.  Somewhere in the ship, something clanged loose.  Metane gripped the armrests.  A flight of headhunters sped out from the ship like a cloud of hornets.  He hit the shields and, for not the first time, cursed the size of the Seeker.  A laser aimed to disable deflected off the rear shield as he made a run for the planet and the whole ship shook, the lights flickering widely.

He concentrated on the field outside.  He didn’t have strong enough premonitions to outfly most Jedi, but he could outfly most any non-Sensitives, even at these numbers, as long as he focused on the task at hand.  He wove and darted even as the faster snubfighters gained on them.  He pressed harder on the accelerator, even when his foot had it tight to the floor, as though he could Force the ship faster through sheer will.

“—we will presume guilt and open fire—”

The hit came, but not from where he’d expected.  

A blaster bolt took him in the shoulder.  He reeled back in his seat, the pilot’s yoke twisting with him.  A second laser hit the ship, sent it spinning so fast the gravity couldn’t hardly keep up, and that was the only reason the next bolts missed him.  Instead, they slammed into the console.  

For a moment, he didn’t know what had happened.  Then—

“JEDI!  THERE’S JEDI ON THIS SHIP, THEY KILLED EVERYONE, HELP—”

A surge of <i>agony</i> and <i>disbelief</i>.  Then, a blaster bolt in the cabin, and the trooper went quiet, just before they impacted a satellite too large for the shields to deflect.  The lights flickered, the hull screamed but held, and the blinding light as they burned through atmosphere lit up the cabin.  

The trooper lay prone against the wall, eye smoking.  His apprentice, shaking, dropped her gun.

“Crash restraints,” he ordered, hitting buttons, trying to bring some shields online.  The frontside shield was still active.  He pulled harder, harder, on the unresponsive yoke and finally closed his eyes and felt for the steering system and <i>pulled</i> it into alignment and barely soon enough.  The ship crashed front-first into a hill and the whole front hull finally buckled down and he blacked out of all of a second.

He opened his eyes to the red glow of the emergency lights and the smell of smoke.  He <i>felt</i> for the girl wildly.

She was fine.  She was fine and unbuckling her restraints and climbing over the back of her seat.  He unbuckled his restraints with hands trembling with adrenaline and tried to get up and couldn’t move, and why couldn’t he move?  

He couldn’t think why.  Black spots filled his vision.  Why couldn’t he think… 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Aboard the <i>Peacemaker</i>, the shiny natborn did his best to look unperturbed as the staticky transmission came through.  

“… THERE… SHIP!  … KILLED EVERYONE…!...”

More sounds of blasterfire, and then the transmission cut out.  The natborn’s white skin paled further.  “Pirates, sir?” the man asked him, swallowing.

Attachment, clone communications officer of the 234th Battalion and reluctant trainer to the shinies who’d been sent to replace brothers killed in the Jedi uprising, nodded.  “More than likely.  The brothers on the bridge will snag it with the tractor beam before it gets loose.”

They watched on screen as the cruiser clumsily dodged the tractor beams.

Attachment took out his holocomm and texted a message to his batchmate on the bridge.

<i> Vod, you drunk or something, a CADET could catch this ship </i>

The ship put on an impressive burst of speed, then careened out of control, hitting a few civilian vessels on the way down.  The explosion lit up the screens.

A moment later, his comm beeped.

<i> A cadet is better than these fucking shiny natborns.  </i>

And wasn’t that the truth, Attachment thought.  His comm officers weren’t bad, but they took forever to learn even the basics.  He supposed it was a necessary cost-cutting measure, since you could get requisition 20 natborns for the price of a vod.  If it had been up to him though, he’d have chosen quality over quantity.  

A second message.  <i> Not getting any readings from the surface.  Ground security and the planetary defence forces will check for survivors, but doesn’t seem likely.</i>

And that was the result of replacing professional soldiers with natborn civilians.  Three shiploads of innocent civilians and any hostages on the pirated vessel, all dead now.  He almost hoped they decommissioned whatever useless shinies on the bridge had fucked this up.  They weren’t his problem though.  He turned back to his own natborns.

“Now, at what point should Officer Kol here have realized something was wrong…?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He started awake at the jab of something sharp.  He thrust out reflexively with fists and the Force.  An autoinjector slammed against the far wall and shattered.  His apprentice dodged his physical blows but the Force wave flung her aside, along with anything else in a two metre radius that hadn’t been secured. She <i>shrieked</i>, shoving her irritation down their bond, and Maul snarled at her return.  Sidious would have beat him for taking such liberties with their connection.

He wasn’t Sidious.

His heart raced and his thigh stung from the jab of the epi autoinjector, and the bruised little girl now glaring from across the cabin had just delivered on so many of his expectations.  

He glanced down at the bar of steel protruding from his upper chest and tore it free.  The bacta the girl had smeared around it itched as it tried to knit the wound.

The alarms in the ship blared louder.  He smelt fuel and burning plastic.  He didn’t need the Force to tell him of the danger.  If the fire caught the leaking fuel-lines, the whole ship would go up in fire.  He rushed to get up but didn’t.

The front console had caved in, pinning his legs.

No.  

He tried to move them, to twitch them just a little.  They didn’t even respond.  He reached out with the Force and his fury and shifted the console.  It buckled outwards, exposing the ruin of his prosthetics, unresponsive and broken beyond any use.  He breathed in his fury and desperation and tasted the acrid scent of Metane’s fear; turned, and saw her still there, staring at him in horror.

“Get OUT,” he snapped, flooding their open link with a fear channeled from the last moments of a hundred of his victims.  To his rage and pride, she held out long enough to throw him an absolutely disgusted look before bolting from the cabin.  

Good.  His apprentice could indulge rescuing him (or who or whatever else she wanted) if she survived to be canny or strong enough to overcome his attempts to dissuade her.  He threw the medkit over his shoulder and looked at his legs.

The limbs Mother Talzin had gifted him felt and functioned like extensions of his own body.  Their sensitivity to pressure and simulated sensation baffled the most advanced engineers.  For all that, they lacked certain features basic to mundane prosthetics, like a simple means of detachment.  Talzin, in her infinite wisdom, had somehow managed to graft the steel right into the stubs of his femurs.

Which meant there was only one way the damned things were coming off.

He tugged his saber loose from his belt and ignited it, hesitated, cursed Kenobi for his hesitation.  

He swung down midthigh.  

It burned just as badly as it had the first time, with his real limbs, when Kenobi had cut him. Curse him.  His vision blacked from the pain, before he channeled that energy into his flesh.  He stowed the lightsaber in his belt and clambered awkwardly from the chair on his hands and the stumps of his legs.

The Force blared in warning.  Smoke filtered up into the cabin.

Coughing on the fumes, he shuffled on his knuckles like an ape towards the side of the cabin and carved a hole through it with his lightsaber.  He knocked the side out with the Force, and abruptly, the fires came racing up behind him.

He leapt through the open hatch.

The ship exploded.

He shielded himself against the shrapnel and the fire and hit the ground rolling.  He tumbled down the burning slope of the hill.  He tried to pull himself up onto his knuckles and faltered. It hurt to breathe.

Sight darkening, he felt for his chest.

The bacta hadn’t completely closed the wound from the front.  It had to be worse from the back, where Metane wouldn’t have reached his shoulders flush to the pilot’s chair.  

He couldn’t feel his fingers.

He raged.  He could not die now.  Not here, in this backwater, at the guns of some faceless Imperial shooter.  Not when he had survived Kenobi and Lotho Minor, had survived Sidious again and again and again.  He would not die this way.  He would not.

But his vision darkened, darkened, until the last light left to him was the ungentle glow of Metane, burning with a rage that equalled his own.

And then, he saw and felt nothing at all.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: 

1. Oh my goodness, I wrote the scene with Maul getting shot down MONTHS ago and it’s only now that I managed to write up to the point where the scene would make sense.  AND WE’RE FINALLY AT LOTHAL.  THANK GOD.

2. Thanks to all of you who have liked these crazy posts and left comments on a story that’s still very rough and incomplete <3  You’re the best.  

[sw5w]

Gian Speeder Arrival

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:46:36

[headfulloffantasies]

Legacy Returning

Din Djarin is not fit to be the Mand’alor. He runs from the responsibility and more specifically from Bo-Katan.

Ao3

Legacy Returning

Din received a hail while he was flying between planets on the Outer Rim. He opened the hail without thinking, expecting Karga or Cara with a new bounty.

Bo Katan’s face flickered through the hologram. Din dove for the disengage button.

“Din Djarin.”

Too late.

Din slumped in his seat. He had come to hate that stupid headband so much. “I’m not fighting you for the Darksaber,” he cut right to the chase.

Bo Katan pressed her lips together in a frown. “If you will not face me in combat then you must return to Mandalore and begin reparations.”

Din had never stepped foot on Mandalore. It was hard to return to a place you’d never been.

“No thank you,” he said. He reached out to end the call.

“Consider your fellow vod,” Bo Katan said.

Vod. Brothers. Din had no brothers. His covert had been destroyed. He had broken his Creed. He had no one but the foundling he’d given away.

“Mandalore needs its leader,” Bo Katan pleaded.

“That’s not me,” Din said. “If you want the Darksaber, I’m throwing it in the nearest supernova.”

He hung up.

Din arrived on Tatooine at Peli’s shop. She came out of her office wiping her hands on a rag. “Where’s the little womp rat?” She asked in place of a greeting.

Din swallowed hard. “He’s with his kind,” he said.

Peli’s face fell. “Well, next time you have him, bring him this way. I like the little guy.”

Din smiled under his helmet.

“I need some help,” he admitted.

Peli came over and banged a fist on the side of his new ship. “Doesn’t look too bad. Better than your old rust heap.”

“Not with the ship,” Din said. “I need someplace to hide.”

Peli turned on him with a finger pointed in his face. “I know you’re a good person under that bucket, Mando, but if you bring trouble to Mos Eisley I won’t forgive you.”

“Noted,” Din nodded.

Peli dropped the offending finger. “So, what kind of trouble are you in now?”

Din sighed loud enough that it crackled through his helmet. “I accidentally became ruler of Mandalore.”

Peli blinked. She burst out laughing. “You? You can barely take care of the kid!”

Din bristled at that. He’d done excellent with Grogu. He’d found the Jedi for him, hadn’t he?

“Do you know of anywhere I can lay low?” He asked.

Peli shrugged. “People come to Tatooine to disappear all the time. You might want to ask the new crime lord at the Hutt Palace if you’re looking for work.”

Din startled. “There’s a new crime lord?”

Peli waved her hands. “Regimes fall every day. Do I look like a newswave?”

Din thanked her and decided he’d make his way to the Hutt Palace. Work was good. It would keep him occupied until he could figure out his next move.

At the Palace a pretty girl led Din down the stone steps to the throne room. Din’s footsteps echoed in the quiet halls.

They rounded the corner. A throne sat on a raised platform. Din let out a soft curse. “Boba Fett?”

The green helmeted Mandalorian leaped off his throne. “Mando! I thought you’d been killed by that kriffing Mandalorian princess.”

“Not yet,” Din extended his hand. They clasped vambraces. Fennec appeared from behind the throne, carrying a bottle of blue spotchka.

“Nice to see you again,” she smirked.

“What can I do for you, my friend?” Boba asked.

“A job, if you have any,” Din answered. “A hiding place, if not.”

Boba exchanged a glance with Fennec. “You’re running from Bo Katan?”

Din sighed. The sound came from the depths of his very core. “She’s decided if she can’t beat me, she’ll join me.”

“Which means what?” Boba asked.

“She’s trying to put me on the throne of Mandalore,” Din explained.

There was a beat of silence. Boba Fett burst into laughter. The sound bounced off the stone walls. Fennec tried her best, but her smile broke into giggles. Fett bent over and braced himself on his knees while he caught his breath.

“That girl has no taste,” Boba Fett said.

Din wasn’t sure if he should be offended.

Boba sent Din on a task to collect a wayward dealer who’d skimmed some money off the top of Boba’s operation.

“She’s way out in the Dune Sea,” Boba said. “That should be far enough away from Bo Katan.”

Din borrowed Peli’s speeder and set out. As he rode into the sweltering heat of the desert Din reflected on his friends’ reactions to his supposed rulership. No one thought he could do it. Kriff, even Din didn’t think he should be the Mand’alor, but some support would be nice. He definitely could not accept the throne, though. He was dar’manda; he’d lost his Way. He couldn’t lead Mandalore. Especially when he’d come to understand that most Mandalorians did not in fact follow the Way. He should just accept Bo Katan’s challenge and let her have the stupid Darksaber. Kriff, what a stupid system to have a laser sword determine the right to rule. What if it got stolen?

Din arrived at the coordinates Boba Fett had given him. Amid the towering rocks jutting out of the sand Din found a cave. It seemed like the place a normal species would take cover from the suns.

Din stepped into the shade. His visor adjusted to the dimness. A blanket, a dead firepit and a mess of used ration wrappers strewed on the ground. And- was that? Yep. That was a bomb.

Din came to with his ears ringing. He blinked through his visor. Twin suns pierced his vison. He took a breath.

Dank Farrik, that hurt. He ground his teeth against the wave of pain. When it faded enough to manage, Din took stock. It didn’t feel like any shrapnel had pierced his skin. At most, his head hurt. And his ribs under the chest plate.

Gingerly, Din sat up. Smoke billowed out of the cave. The blast had obviously thrown him backwards into the sand. It would take days to clean all the grit from his armour.

A shadow fell over him. Din looked up, a hand on his blaster.

“Dank Farrik,” he hissed. Blue Mandalorian armour filled his vision.

Bo Katan lifted her helmet. Behind her, Kaska Reeves held the collar of Din’s bounty.

Din wobbled to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

Bo Katan had the audacity to look shocked. “I’m here to speak to you. You are the Mand’alor.”

“No.” Din unclipped the Darksaber from his belt. Bo Katana stiffened. Din drew back his arm and pitched the Darksaber as far as he could. He nearly toppled over. The Darksaber winked in the light of the twin suns and vanished into the desert.

Bo Katan made a sound like a choked loth cat. Din did not care. He stomped over to Kaska Reeves and snatched his bounty from her.

“Wait,” she said. “She has to stand trial for trying to assassinate the Mand’alor.”

“No,” Din repeated. He tossed his bounty over his speeder and took off. Bo Katan yelled after him. Probably something about disrespecting his cultural heritage. Din still didn’t care.

Boba Fett took one look at Din at decided he needed a drink. Din agreed, but he’d prefer to drink alone. Besides, any planet with Bo Katan on it was not a planet he could stay on.

Din stayed one step ahead of Bo Katan for longer than he actually expected. Say you want about the princess, but she was competent and crafty. She managed to lure him to a backwater swamp with a fake bounty puck.

“I don’t want it,” Din said. Bo Katan held out the Darksaber to him imploringly. She must have spent hours cleaning the sand from its mechanisms.

Din sighed. “Do you want to arm wrestle for it? Would that work?”

Bo Katan’s eyebrows creased. “The Darksaber must be won in combat.”

Din sagged. He was so very tired of people telling him things he didn’t understand.

“I don’t know anything about it,” Din explained. “I don’t know how it works.”

He meant it as an excuse to pass the light sword along to her, but Bo Katan took it as an invitation to recite the Darksaber’s history.

It was… a lot.

Din latched onto one very important detail. “So, it hasn’t always been a symbol of the Mand’alor.”

Bo Katan faltered. “Well, no, but-.”

“And it was stolen from the Jedi,” Din said.

“Yes. But it was Mandalorian first,” Bo Katan emphasised. “The Jedi had no right-.”

“So, it actually belongs to the Jedi,” Din finished his train of thought.

He swiped the Darksaber from Bo Katan’s lax grip. He whipped around and ran up the ramp of his ship.

Bo Katan yelled after him, “Where are you going?”

“I’m giving it back to the Jedi,” Din shouted back. Glowing satisfaction filled his chest at the strangled noise Bo Katan made.

The best part was that he had an actual excuse to go see Grogu. Usually, he showed up to the Jedi academy with a half baked defense about protecting the children or something. Luke humored him, for which Din was eternally grateful. It wouldn’t do to have to kneecap his son’s teacher.

Din knew Luke was dramatic. The man wore a cape. Din did not wear a cape; it was a cloak and it was different. Capes were for dramatic entrances. This time though, Din thought Luke had taken the cake. Upon being presented with the Darksaber, Luke had vaulted into a tree and refused to come down.

“It belongs to the Jedi!” Din shouted up at Luke. He could just see his pale blond hair through the thick foliage.

“I want nothing to do with that thing!” Luke shot back.

Fine. Din could play dirty then. “Isn’t your sister Force sensitive? Does she need a laser sword?”

“Do not give the Death Saber to my sister!” Luke hissed.

Din did not move from his position of holding the Darksaber up towards Luke. He realised he looked much like Bo Katan had when she offered Din the sword. Kriff, why was she only person in the galaxy who wanted it but wouldn’t take it?

“Do any of your other students need a weapon?” Din suggested. He perked up. “What about Grogu? How long until he gets a sword? I can hold onto it for him until he’s ready.”

Luke sobbed.

Rude. Din thought it was a great idea. “It’ll be like a family heirloom.”

“I will murder you in your sleep,” Luke mumbled in the tree. “I will smother you with your pillow.”

Good luck with that. Din wore the helmet to sleep while he visited the academy. He’d had a close call with curious children the first time he’d come to see Grogu. Force users had no regard for locks that couldn’t stop them.

Anyways, Luke could not stay in that tree forever. Luke seemed to realise this too. He finally dropped back to ground level with surprising grace. He had a leaf stuck in his hair. It made him look much younger.

“That thing,” Luke jabbed a finger at the Darksaber. “Has been used to destroy the Jedi. It has no place here.”

Din looked down at the blade. “I don’t understand,” he admitted. “It’s just a thing. An object. But everyone acts like it has a will and a destiny. It’s a tool. Tools don’t care what you use them for; they don’t know the difference between good and evil.”

Din had Luke’s full attention. It was a bit daunting. Din swallowed. “Instead of giving more power to the stories of evil deeds, why don’t you use it for good? Reclaim its legacy.”

Luke squinted at him. “You’re a very clever man, Din Djarin. And a very tricky one.”

At least someone thought so.

“Does that mean you’ll take it?” Din extended the Darksaber again.

Luke hesitated. “I think,” Luke said slowly. “That you should be the one to reclaim the Darksaber’s legacy. The Force is working very strongly around you, Din Djarin.”

Din sagged. “I don’t want to be the Mand’alor.”

“Then don’t,” Luke said.

Din’s gaze snapped up to the Jedi.

Luke shrugged. “Part of the Darksaber’s dark legacy is the bloody war for the throne of Mandalore. If you hold the Darksaber but refuse to claim Mandalore then the Mandalorians will have to come up another system to choose their leader.”

Din narrowed his eyes. Luke had a devious mind. It might just work.

“You want me to spend the rest of my life defending the Darksaber from would be assassins and someday die a natural death without ever being defeated?”

Luke shrugged. “Something like that.” He grinned. “You’re doing great so far.”

Din resolutely did not mention he’d been blown up earlier that month.

Din clipped the Darksaber to his belt. “Fine. But if anybody calls me a Jedi, I’m bringing the sword right back here and burying it forever.”

END

[letitrainathousandflames]

Badass Tup Week

Prompt I - Swordfighting Tup

Sword-yielding Jedi. As if this war couldn’t get any weirder.

In this strange planet where the 501st had been laying siege for nearly a month now, nothing powered by laser or kyber could function. That had forced both clones and Jedi to change their fighting styles. A lot.

Rex had given them a quick course on how to use the newly provided weapons – fire-powered weapons. Actual slugthrowers, in this case modified cycle rifles. The entire troop was having issues with the weapons, too difficult to reload between rounds and their recoil about five times heavier than a blaster’s. Two of the men had nearly dislocated their shoulders by now, and the men’s hits were far outnumbered by their missed shots.

The atmosphere, too, couldn’t be cycled through the filters, so they were all fighting without their helmets, which made them easy targets for headshots from the enemies’ side.

“-sick of this kriffing thing!” Fives cursed between gritted teeth as the enemy soldiers advanced, not droids but human soldiers clearly used to using swords for close combat and slugthrowers for shooting; the ARC trooper shoved a new magazine into the empty weapon, failing twice before managing to pull the safety to keep firing “Tup, they’re closing in on Rex and the General, we need to cover them!”

“On it!” Tup nodded, following Fives towards their commanding officers

It all happened so fast. A round, silver ball fell right in front of them glistening under the sun as a red light on it blinked faster and faster, and Tup only had time to grab Fives by the neck of his back plate, pulling him away from the blast.

Despite the spongy earplugs shoved in his ears, they deafening blast echoed like thunder, Tup’s ears still ringing as he shoved Fives on his back on the sand, assessing the damage. The armor was slightly blackened wish ash, but didn’t seem cracked at any vital point. Fives’ face, too, was only darkened, reddened by the heat, but unharmed.

“Sir, are you-”

“I’m fine!” Fives gritted out, shoving Tup at his chest “Go get the General!” and upon his hesitation he repeated himself “Go! Kix will come for us with reinforcement, I’ll be fine! Get the General!”

With one last tense look at Fives, Tup turned back and continued to run. His best friend had nearly died right in front of him�� What if the next bomb gets him instead?... No, focus! Keep your head in the battle!

He hears the dry noise of another bomb being shot out of a launcher. And then, a couple of clicks right in front of him he sees the charge land right next to Rex and Skywalker. Rex screams something Tup can’t quite make in the loud gunfire – so much louder than blasters – and Skywalker tries to push the bomb away with the Force…

The thing goes off long before he can manage to get them both in the clear, and Tup curls himself into a ball to make himself a smaller target while trying to make anything out of the sudden wall of sand that the blast had sent flying up in the air. Squinting and blinking away at the sand, he can make out two shadows: Skywalker, lying still on the ground and Rex kneeling close to him, ready to shoot any approaching enemies.

As the sand slowly settles down, he hears a voice booming close to them from the enemy lines.

“There’s only one clone guarding the general, hold your fire for your repetition slugthrowers to cool down and kill them before their reinforcements arrive!”

The joy of knowing they wouldn’t be shot at for a while was quickly deflated as Tup heard the noise of swords being drawn from their hilts. The sand had settled and Rex is facing the enemies that drew a semicircle around them; there was ferocity in the captain’s eyes as he cocked the slughthrower in his hand, shooting the nearest one which collapsed lifeless on the ground.

“If you think I’ll go down without a fight, you got another thing coming, separatist!” he barked, aiming at another soldier

“You don’t have enough slugs for all of us, clone!” the soldier sneered, still advancing

Tup stayed completely still, partially covered in the sand and perfectly disguised with the light brown camouflage of his armor. They had only counted one clone. They had no idea he was right next to them. A soldier approached Rex still, sword pointed forward and slightly low. His boot dragged along the sand with his steps until it bumped against Tup’s shin.

“What the…?”

Tup knew he had to be fast. Good thing he had always enjoyed sparring back in the academy. He quickly sprung to action, raising a leg and kicking the soldier as hard as he could right at the side of his knee from the inside. There was little the other’s armor could do against an attack from that angle, and Tup heard the distinct noise of something breaking before the soldier tumbled down with a scream.

“Rex, I’m here!” Tup bellowed, jumping to his feet to then grab at the soldier wrist, to try and wrench the sword out of his grip

The soldier sneered, reaching up to grab at Tup’s hair, the hair tie snapping in the struggle and Tup’s long hair cascading down in a mess of dark coils. Once Tup managed to take the sword, he hit the soldier’s face with the grip, drawing blood out of his nose and ceasing his struggle.

Rex took the sudden confusion of the enemy soldiers to fire another shot, then another, taking more and more of them down. Meanwhile, Tup got a good grip on the sword and pierced it down on the soldier’s back at his heart’s height. The man let out a garbled noise, going limp, and Tup pulled the blood-stained blade back, parrying the nearest enemy’s attack just in time.

“How’s the general?!” Tup screamed, shoving the enemy away with a kick to his stomach, taking a few cautious steps back closer to Rex as he hastily combed his hair back with his fingers, sword still at the ready

“Unconscious!” Rex replied, getting up to his feet and continuing to fire, every shot punctuated with a pained grunt at the weapon’s recoil “We need to stand our ground before reinforcements arrive! How’s Fives?!”

“Nearly got blasted but he is angrier than he is injured.” Rex’s laugh at Tup’s response was cut by a curse at the weapon. The kriffing thing was jammed. “Don’t worry, I’ll cover you. Their firearms are overheated.”

Rex gritted his thanks, quickly pulling the magazine out and jamming it back in, trying to get the damn thing to slide all the way in. The wind shifted the sand, Tup’s hair swaying lightly with it. Tup slid a foot forward, eyes fixated at every enemy in front of him as he held up his sword in a defensive stance, baring his teeth and letting out a low growl.

“Let me show you what ‘only one clone’ can do, you separatist scum.”

-

Buy me a coffee! | Commissions | Ao3

[asidian]

Day 8: Watch

January 15, 2038

"Team Phoenix," says the voice over the intercoms. "Report to the hangar immediately. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."

Of course it's not a drill; Jacob's seen the sky outside, and it's thick and choked with those otherworldly red clouds. There are harbingers up among them, dark squirming dots from this distance, and even from here, he can hear the distant rattle of explosions.

Team Chroma's on rotation today, and he's been busy telling himself for the last half hour that they've got it covered. But apparently they don't, because even over the intercom, he can hear the way Dr. Wada's voice isn't quite as steady as usual.

He's in the middle of piecing together his new model of the suit Victory, one of the ones with all the parts to mimic the internal workings, but he doesn't even stop to set aside the countless tiny pieces before he springs for the door. They go spraying all over the floor of the dorm room; something crunches beneath Jacob's foot as he sprints for the hallway, and he doesn't even notice.

In the hangar, alarms are blaring, a steady background noise that makes his palms sweat and sets his teeth on edge. He makes it to his prep station in record time – turns to Egawa and Schroepfer, who have just finished running diagnostics.

"What's up," says Jacob, "What's going on?"

"You're on the field in five," says Egawa. "Chroma needs an assist."

"All over it," says Jacob, and turns to step into his suit, so that his prep team can make with the prep and he can get into the air already.

Only, every holo-screen in the hangar's showing the news coverage of what's going down outside, and what's going down outside isn't good. He stands a moment, frozen, as Violet Haven turns toward the Protector he's doubtless meant to be serving as backup for. The footage is from such a distance that the news camera doesn't pick up all the gritty details, but it's impossible to miss the effects. 

Violet Haven's got that new laser blaster, the one R&D was so excited to get into play. It takes Jade Griffin right below the chest and vaporizes half the suit, and all at once, Chroma is one down, the destroyed suit plummeting toward the streets far below.

Jacob takes a shaky breath in. Beside him, Schroepfer says, "Mother of God," very softly.

"They need you out there now," says Egawa, and her voice is shaky.

Jacob bites at his lip, and he nods. He steps into the waiting suit. 

It's not much bigger than he is -- fits him like a second skin, all of metal. As Egawa and Schroepfer work on getting the chest piece closed despite the damage he took last night, Jacob's facing out toward the rest of the hangar. He's got a clear view of the holo-footage still running in the air: the squirming, amorphous mass of an invader about the size of a skyscraper, up there in the air above the city, a sickly red light pulsing from its flesh in the same shade as those roiling, unearthly clouds.

All he can do is watch as Violet Haven turns toward his teammates, the new blaster he'd been so proud about in the mess hall just yesterday still blazing.

All he can do is watch as Black Whisper lifts her weapon, precision sharp as always, and shoots her brother in the head.

Jacob can barely hear his chest piece click into place over the sudden rushing in his ears. He can barely think over the static buzz of his own thoughts. He keeps thinking, incongruously, of the castle at Disneyland. He keeps thinking about a harbinger that's hulking and gelatinous and strange, the black lines of it entirely the wrong shape – big as a subway car, its whole head unhinging when it opens its mouth, like a snake swallowing a bird.

He keeps thinking that he knows the panicky, walls-are-closing-in feeling that must be settling over the rest of Chroma about now.

"...okay?" Egawa is saying.

Jacob blinks and looks toward her. He missed the first part, too lost in his own head.

"Sure," he says anyway. "Okay."

On the news, the reporter is trying desperately to spin it as though Chroma still has things under control. It would probably work better if Violet Haven wasn't still lying there on the ground, the suit silent and still, in the bottom right corner of the shot.

"We, uh," says Jacob, eyes flickering over the scene. "We almost in business?"

"A minute more," says Schroepfer. "Maybe two."

Watching as the sickly red clouds spread on the holo-footage in front of him, Jacob doesn't know if that will be fast enough.

[barnes-dameron]

can i request din and the reader getting married?

Connected

Summary: After a struggle with a bounty, Din realizes that he wants to spend the rest of his life connected to you.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This takes place before the events of season two, more so in the middle of season one...when Mando still had the Razor Crest. Btw, the reader is female

***

The feeling at the bottom of Din’s stomach wasn’t so much from nerves, but more from anticipation. He kept an iron grip while piloting the Razor Crest, alongside laser focus when flying back to the planet his covert is on. It wasn’t so much as a heat of the moment decision, but rather one he thought of for some time and proposed the idea to you in a moment of weakness.

He thought back to the time when he returned from a hunt some time ago. The bounty got away from him, and he sustained several injuries. There were times when he was returning to the ship that he didn’t think he would make it back. The bounty skimmed him with a blaster fire at his uncovered side, causing him to bleed out with every movement. Every stride caused his head to spin, and his step to stumble. Din practically collapsed when he returned, his body making a loud thud when his beskar armor collided with the hull’s metal floor. He remembered your face when you looked down at him, even when his vision started to blur. While you were dressing his wound with bacta, as the cool substance was being applied, he was reminded of his weakness, and how he could barely make it back to you or the Child. And that reminder caused his heart to ache. It wasn’t until after a quick nap from his exhaustion and blood loss that he revealed his desire to spend the rest of his life with you. The flood of relief from your excited acceptance overwhelmed him enough to forget the pain and failure of his hunt. In return, he was filled with joy and victory in capturing your heart.

When the dull planet of Nevarro came to view, excitement started to bubble within Din, though he would never show it. Part of his profession, he must keep his emotions in check. He got up from his spot in the pilot’s seat, and made his way down to the haul. Din’s heart warmed when he saw you with the Child, a sight he treasured and thought back to often.

“We’re almost there,” Din said, grabbing your attention so he could see your beautiful eyes. “We should probably get everything together.”

“Already done,” you responded proudly as you placed the Child on a nearby crate.

Though you couldn’t see it yourself, Din smiled underneath the helmet. Truth be told, the one thing that caused Din both excitement and anxiety was being able to reveal himself to you. He longed to look at you without the visor, and use his naked eyes for once. But of course the fear of rejection nagged him. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you found him ugly and unattractive at all? What if you decided you couldn’t love him? Though he tried to put these thoughts aside, knowing you weren’t that kind of person, his insecurities still got to him.

The walk to the covert’s entrance seemed so long to Din even though he made this journey so many times before. But now, it was different. Din carried a bag that belongs to you, something you wanted to wear for the ceremony that was a tradition on your planet. The cradle floated alongside the two of you, the Child beaming. The little womp rat must’ve caught wind of what you two are about to do.

His heavy footsteps could be heard by his fellow Mandalorians as he descended down the steps into the tunnels while yours were quieter compared to his. Not wanting you to be intimated from his armor clad companions, he placed a hand on the small of your back leading you to the Armorer while making sure the Child was following close by. Din couldn’t help but swell with pride as you walked beside him. The helmets from the other Mandalorians turning to watch the three of you, and Din knew that none of them can have you. You were about to be his, and he was about to be yours.

The Armorer’s bronze helmet gleamed in the fire light as she turned to see Din, his fiancee, and foundling at the entrance to her forge. She set aside the hammer she was holding, and moved to face Din and his aliit.

“You have found a riduur,” she said, rather than asking a question.

“Yes,” Din replied, moving his hand to rest on your hip while pulling you closer to him. “We came here to say our vows with witnesses present.”

“Of course,” the Armorer responded. “This is the way.”

“This is the way,” Din declared.

He led you out, and showed you to a room where you could change before turning away to leave to give you privacy.

The tunnel was lined with the covert’s Mandalorians from the entrance to your room all the way to the end with Din and the Armorer. Din took a deep breath as he watched you emerge. You were wearing a traditional wedding dress from your culture, and Din could understand why it was so important to you. The color was perfect against your skin, and made your beauty glow even brighter. Din struggled to breathe since the sight of you walking towards him took his breath away. The smile on your face caused him to blush and yet again he thanked the Maker for the helmet. When you finally reached him, he took your hands in his, feeling the warmth you radiated through his leather gloves. He squeezed your hands in reassurance before taking a deep breath.

“Mhi solus tome,” he began, his voice steady and proud. “mhi solus dar’tome.”

He watched as you opened your mouth, repeating the words he said while switching your gaze from him to the Armorer then back to him. He gave a quiet hmmm of laughter when you stumbled a bit. The Armorer repeating the mispronounced words slowly to make it easier for you.

We are one whether we are together or apart,

“Mhi me’dinui,” he declared, then listening to you echo his words.

We will share everything,

“An mhi ba’juri verde,” Din vowed, holding your hands a bit tighter as you reiterated his words, tears brimming in your eyes.

And we will raise our children as warriors.

Din pressed his forehead to yours as the applause from the small audience echoed throughout the tunnel. A smile spread across Din’s face as he moved his hands away from yours to then rest on your hips.

Despite the muffled noise from the other Mandalorians, the room you and Din occupied was quiet. The Armorer suggested for him to take the room to consummate the marriage, reassuring him that the Child will be well taken care of. But even though the little guy was cared for, Din couldn’t help but feel the bundle of nerves at the bottom of his stomach. This is the moment he has been both dreading and waiting for.

Din stood near the entrance, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides while he looks you. Your smile was bright as your eyes softened at him, your husband. He was your husband, and you were his wife. That simple fact was enough to give Din the confidence he needed.

He approached your waiting figure, placing his hands on your hips once again, an action that was slowly becoming a comfort mechanism for him; reminding him that you will always be there for him...with him. Din looked down at your face, your features soft and glowing. He took a deep breath, reaching one hand up to grip the bottom edge of his helmet. While slowly lifting up the beskar helmet, he sees how different things are with his own eyes instead of through his visor. Din took his helmet, and placed it on the bed nearby.

He took in the features of your face, admiring the way the light in the room illuminates the color of your eyes. Your lips look so soft and smooth, something he hasn’t noticed through the helmet. But Din was distracted when you reached up a hand to touch his cheek. He nearly died due to the contact, the feeling so foreign yet welcoming. Your fingers trace along his jaw before rubbing them over the stubble he forgot to shave. He closed his eyes from content, savoring the pleasure of your touch.

“Y/N,” Din whispered, opening his eyes. “I know I’m probably not what you expected and-”

“You’re right,” you interjected. For a brief moment, Din’s heart sank to the floor as his fear was about to unfold right in front of his eyes. “You’re better than what I imagined.”

And just as fast as it fell, his heart began to beat again, faster even knowing that the love of his life put all his fears to bed. It was then that Din smiled before leaning down to feel and see if those lips were as soft as they looked.

His lips were gentle at first, testing the waters, but it was you who pressed harder, causing Din to press your body against his. His lips moved against yours with expertise, like a choreographed dance, as if it was meant to be. You licked the seam of his lips, begging for his mouth to open. Din took this new opportunity to plunge his tongue into your mouth, exploring and savoring your sweet taste. Even though this was Din’s first kiss, it didn’t feel like it. At least, not with you. It wasn’t until you pulled away that Din realized how much he missed the feel of your mouth already.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “You’re really good with your mouth.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “That’s not the only thing I’m good at.”

***

Taglist: @tangledlove27 @absurdthirst @caswinchester2000

[apomaro-mellow]

Powers at Work

Read on AO3

Snoke looked upon the trooper before him, his mouth curling up into a smile as he felt the indignation boiling inside Kylo Ren for having to stand side-by-side with this one.

"Remove your helmet. What is your designation?"

The irony of being asked to show his face while also reciting that which gave him anonymity was not lost on the young man. But he obeyed without hesitation.

"FN-2187."

"Tell me boy", Snoke addressed Kylo Ren this time. "What do you feel from him?"

"Nothing", he answered. His own mask giving the illusion of cold indifference. But behind it was a petulant expression. And Snoke could feel it, as well as the particular sort of energy the emanated from the storm trooper.

"He has Force potential. It is weak. But it is there."

Neither of the young men said anything about that. Kylo Ren was slowly simmering from petulance to seething while FN-2187 didn't really know what any of this meant. He knew little of the Force. Just that it was part of some strange technique that the Knights of Ren and Supreme Leader Snoke utilized. There were a lot of rumors about what it could and couldn't do.

"He will become a knight", Snoke continued. "I see great things in his future."

From then on, FN-2187's life had flipped on its head in some ways, but had mostly remained the same. He still had to get up early, dress in a uniform, wear a mask, and go through training that pushed him to the limits of his mind and body.

But one significant change was the way he was taught to process his emotions. Stormtroopers were meant to be unfeeling and simply follow orders. As a Knight of Ren, he still had to follow orders without question. Every time frustration and anger built up inside of him though, he was told to harness it. To channel it into an energy that he could use. Mostly for destruction.

And it felt good.

Shooting with a blaster and using other weapons had their charm. But there was something cathartic about using your own hands, even though he wasn't technically touching anything. When FN-2187 reached out and grasped the neck of a Resistance fighter, he felt it as if his hand was actually cutting off their air supply.

With every insurgence that was squashed, he grew more powerful. And with more power, he became more capable. It didn't take long for him to forget the troopers he had known. Why should he remember them anyway? They were nothing but cogs in a machine. FN-2187 was still a cog himself, but a much bigger one than he had been. And in the end, their goal was the same - to destroy.

The other knights believed the same, having given themselves to the cult of Ren that cared not for right and wrong, only what they wanted. FN-2187 believed that there was no right and wrong. If there was good, how could the First Order ever come into such great power. If there was justice, then how would it punish all of the crimes committed by the vast armies?

There was no hope, no righteous glory to strive for, no happy ending where the bad guys lost. There was only those with power and those without. And if he could use that power to break, to wreck, to crumble, then why shouldn't he?

It wasn't like he was going to get punished for doing wrong, so what incentive did he have to do right?

He wasn't like Kylo Ren. FN-2187's powers within the Force had grown. And he could feel the turmoil within Kylo Ren like it was his own. It was why FN-2187 was glad that they didn't spend too much time together. Eventually, one of the other knights had told him the story; that Kylo Ren had originally trained under a fledgling jedi order under Luke Skywalker before tearing it all down and succumbing to the dark side.

And that explained the torrent that raged inside of him. Some part of him was still clinging to hope. Hope for what, FN-2187 didn't know. Maybe he wanted to be saved and leave the First Order. Maybe he wanted something more than this. Whatever it was, FN-2187 wished that part of their training included learning to hold things in. But they weren't taught much about the spiritual side of the Force outside using hatred to fuel them.

It was supposed to be a mission as easy as any other. They had gotten intel that the Resistance was harboring a very important piece of information.

"We are to find the one who has it. And take it", Kylo Ren said as they were en route.

No one asked what the information was or why it was so important. But FN-2187 was curious. And Kylo Ren's mind was always such an open book. So he flipped through the pages and found that what was so important was a droid with a map to Luke Skywalker.

"GET OUT!", Kylo Ren barked, pushing FN-2187 out of his head.

"Don't keep yourself so open then", he said in reply with a shrug.

FN-2187 had seen other things floating on the surface along with that tidbit. An old man's face, probably Skywalker himself, as well as a few other faces. None that he recognized of course. But he at least understood why the Knights of Ren were being put to such a task.

Luke Skywalker was a dangerous man and had the power to end everything. FN-2187 had heard the legend of Skywalker. But like most things, it was impossible to tell what was actually true and what was just gossip, exaggerations, or stories to soothe children.

When they landed on the planet, stormtroopers had already begun terrorizing the people that lived there. FN-2187 felt nothing as he watched innocent people get gunned down. Because if he felt something, he would have to admit that this was all wrong. And if this was all wrong, that meant there had to be a right side. But there was no right or wrong, only strong and weak.

The Resistance was full of weaklings, those that clung to loft ideals and died because of them.

So imagine his surprise when one of these weaklings, the ones trying to uphold some twisted form of justice and good, snuck up on him and landed a blow on his helmet, nearly knocking him to the ground.

FN-2187 had been checking one of the homes for the Resistance fighter. He had sensed something behind him but only at the very last second. It was why he was able to get away without the full brunt of the attack hitting him squarely on the head. As it was, he only had a crack in his helmet. The fighter closed the distance between them, probably thinking that they could corner him in such a small space.

The amount of room stopped being a hindrance when FN-2187 used the Force to push him back, crumbling one of the walls in the process. The fighter lay limp on the ground on top of the rubble. Fn-2187 approached and narrowly dodged the blaster shot that came at him. A last ditch attempt from the fighter before having a strong boot step on his wrist. The crack in the helmet crew, and a piece fell off. That last shot having done a bit more damage to it.

"Any last words?", FN-2187 asked.

The fighter coughed up a bit of blood and sounded like he was choking before he could answer. "You've...you've got...got a pretty eye... for a bastard."

He gave pause at that. "...Just one?", he asked, bending over.

"Well I can't see the other one, so I can only imagine."

Poe Dameron truly hadn't expected such a pretty brown eye when he shot off that chunk of helmet. Honestly, he'd been hoping to shoot right through their head and get a chance to escape. But now that it looked like he was at his end, why not be honest? It wasn't like this guy would repeat his last words. So no one on either side would know that Poe had complimented the man who had killed him.

He took in shallow breaths, waiting for the final blow. How would it come? Just a shot? Would his skull be crushed under a boot? Or would this one be using the same laser sword as their oh so charming leader?

FN-2187 lifted his foot off of the fighter's wrist and knelt down next to him. He had to know one thing. Just one thing before he left this man for dead.

"Why do you fight?"

The immediate response was laughter. "We fight because your side didn't give us a choice. We fight in defense of everything we love."

FN-2187 could have laughed himself at such a cliche response. Then an idea occurred to him. Something that he had thought about from time to time but had never imagined he'd get a chance at. If wanton destruction in the name of desire was the way of the Ren, then what glorious ecstasy would it be to destroy something as grand and enormous as the First Order?

"Play dead", FN-2187 said.

He dragged the fighter by the arm, walking towards one of the many piles of bodies that had begun to accumulate. Thankfully the other knights were deeper in the village, searching for the droid and its owner. Keeping his half-covered gaze forward, FN-2187 continued. Being a knight had the perk that any trooper he passed by quickly put their head down and pretended to work harder than they already were.

He counted himself lucky that they got as far as the gangplank before someone called out to him. Not looking back, he threw the fighter deeper into the ship, blasted the trooper before he could report and hit the button to lift up the plank.

"You fly?", FN-2187 asked.

With a groan, the other man got to his feet. "I fly!", he exclaimed with a lightness that made it easy to forget he was injured. He put himself in the pilot's seat and got the ship going. FN-2187 felt out for the other knights, especially for Kylo Ren. He felt confusion most of all. And then numbness. And then they were too far away to feel much of anything.

He stopped looking back and only looked forward; to the Resistance that he'd be joining, and the pilot he had saved that was his ticket in.