#mae eppa

[mwolf0epsilon]

Forceful Intervention AU - Supporting Cast

The Masterpost for the Forceful Intervention Verse got ridiculously long and reached the character limit, so I opted with making a post for the supporting character cast instead of stressing over trying to make everything fit into one singular post.

Without further ado, meet the cast of OCs!

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Lissa Colo'Ba - A natborn officer who served with the GAR while under the command of Jedi General Chora Tuteru and the 209th Battalion (aka Avis Squadron). Known simply as Dove (a nickname given to her by the troopers of the 209th), this mysterious pilot has a past that links her both to the Jedi and Mandalorians alike, in more ways than just her service record. Like the saying goes, never judge a book by its cover.

Maeleen Eppa - The renegade daughter of two very corrupt senators, Mae was reluctantly conscripted into the GAR after finding herself in hot waters with both her parents and the Republic (after accidentally stumbling into Separatist space while trying to run away from her home planet of Poluzitania). Spending the majority of the war serving under the 104th as an engineer and mechanic, her loyalty towards both Jedi Master Plo Koon and the 104th became the driving force for her rebellion against the Empire.

Zed Kwinde - A strong Force Empath that was raised as a Guardian of the Whills for the Kyber Temple of Jedha. He grew disillusioned due to feeling powerless in the face of war, as he could sense the misery and pain of others but was not allowed to interfere as that was not his battle to face. Unwilling to sit around idly, Zed fled the temple and completely reinvented himself, becoming somewhat of an expert in cybernetic enhancements, slicing and marksmanship. While he comes off as snarky and selfish, his intentions are often much purer than they seem.

The Golden Ladybug Crew - One of many brothels in Coruscant's red light districts that has allied itself to the Coruscant Guard, due to having formed a mutual respect for each other's street-savvy survival skills. The Golden Ladybug is not only open to clone troopers who have nowhere else to go, but also often provides supplies and information to the Guard in exchange for protection from the shadier folks who threaten the Madam's business and affairs.

The 105th/Petrichor Company - The veteran troopers of Krell's defunct Battalion, who could not be relegated to other Jedi due to their distrust of Force Users. Having initially worked with the 501st to try to rehabilitate them, several incidents involving in-fighting and excessive violence ended up forcing the Jedi to leave them under the Coruscant Guard's jurisdiction, in the hopes that some community service might help them get along better with "outsiders". The 105th was then assigned to work with the Golden Ladybug, who through sheer commitment and infinite patience, managed to rehabilitate the traumatized troopers.

Scully & Erin - An unlikely duo of a Changeling with connections in the Coruscant Underbelly, and an AgriCorps Jedi Ruurian. Scully and Erin both have ties with clones that (despite the horrors of Order 66) have clearly not been sullied or forgotten, as they are always willing to lend a hand to whomever most needs it. Even while on the run. The two travel with ex-501st Trooper Nax (known to them as Hobbs) who they rescued from Daiyu.

Metronome Squad - A batch of clone troopers divided among four battalions who maintained close contact throughout the war. They were ultimately separated by the tragedy of Order 66, but later managed to reunite with each other (those who were left anyway). The group consists of Rhythm (Communications Officer of the CG), Pitch (Clone Medic of the 501st), Beat (ARC Trooper of the 104th) and Tacet (ARF Trooper of the 212th).

Guard Remnant - A group of surviving Coruscant Guard troopers with faulty inhibitor chips, that managed to flee the heart of the Empire after Order 66 went out. Comprised primarily of riot troopers and unofficially lead by Slick, the Guard Remnant has made of the town of Bakkskrash their home and keep the settlement protected with the help of Dogma and Rhythm (whom both accidentally became the sole law enforcement for the entire town).

Sponge Clan - A tight-knit family unit comprised of ex-501st clone medic Sponge, their partner Hugo Espin, their adopted clone children, hybrid clone child Molly, Pitch of Metronome Squad (who at the time was having issues reconciling with Rhythm, thus had nowhere else to go), scuba trooper Penguin, heavy gunner Lichtenberg (who was considered MIA on Umbara but managed to survive by the skin of his teeth) and several pets (the most notorious being Beautiful, Sponge's barghest companion and most trusted friend). They are not immediately allied to any of the many Mando clans whom seem to have taken an interest in them, instead focusing on the Guard Remnant and the town of Bakkskrash.

AI Troopers - AI copies of Fives and Tup that were created from brain-scans that were done prior to their deaths. It's unknown who exactly created these AI copies, or what reason they had to do so, but the experiment seems to connect to one of Palpatine's various Immortality projects.

The Lost Children of Mandalore - Several Mandalorian clans that reside in Epifania, after their ancestors settled there while on the run from the Mandalorian Wars. While the clans sometimes don't see eye to eye, they are united in their affinity for the clone troopers who have sought shelter on their quaint little planet.

The Golden Pye-Dogs - A band of pirates that have allied themselves to the Guard Remnant and the Sheriff of Bakkskrash. While most don't understand why these scheming scoundrels would willingly work with law enforcement of any kind, one can't ignore the fact they seem to have an adopted clone child as the factor behind this particular choice.

The 13th Sister - Once an AgriCorps Jedi and dear friend to Erin, Kera Brookii willingly became an Inquisitor in the pursuit of power. Having grown disillusioned with the Jedi Order's seemingly "unfair" training policies, Kera felt like her potential was wasted and sought revenge on those who she assumed looked down on her. Cruel and manipulative, she is suspicious of Zed's activities as a mercenary for the Empire, being sure of him being a double agent. None of the other Inquisitors believe her however, as they consider her traitorous by nature and far too power hungry to ally themselves with willingly.

Sulu Ra, the Mad Cloner of Kamino - A microbiology specialist on Kamino. He was adept at perfectly replicating microorganisms that comprise the majority of a being's internal and external body flora, thus helping their products to live outside of lab conditions, making Sulu Ra's work an important part of the cloning process. However, due to his morbid curiosity of natural mutations and hybridization, interest in bio-weaponry, and natural dislike of wasting resources, the once highly sought out microbiologist became a nuisance that actively tampered with the cloning process to indulge in his own sick and twisted experiments. His list of victims includes Tup and Dogma, Olly's entire batch, two entire battalion's worth of rookies, and many more beings that they themselves created from scratch.

Aoife - A mysterious young lady with seemingly omniscient knowledge of the world around her. No one knows where exactly she came from, but Aoife seems to have good intentions regardless of her strange nature. She saved Hardcase from a fate she herself says was impossible for him to have been relegated to because it just "didn't make sense in the story".

The Rascal Gang - A group of kids who's parents were either a part of the rebellion or who were clones. Mismatched in all sorts of ways, this oddball group seems to have ended up on the Colossus, and are on the lookout for something. What exactly that something is, remains unknown (but likely has to do with the Resistance).

[mwolf0epsilon]

Whumptober Day 31: A Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Prompt: "You can rest now."

Warning: Unethical medical procedures & the moral conundrum of euthanasia

Summary: There had always been a moral and ethical dilemma regarding what most would call a "Good Death". On one hand, those who existed in constant unending suffering should be given the right to mercy. On the other hand, justifying and controlling death itself in a society as flawed as theirs might lead to some rather dangerous consequences. It was never going to be an easy call to make, not in this life nor the next.

[I have literally been waiting all month just to write this series of ideas that I've had stuck in my brain for a while. This is it, the final piece of this painful little collection of drabbles. It's gonna be a pretty hard one.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

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Structure: The arrangement of and relations between the parts or elements of something complex. A building or other object constructed from several parts. To construct or arrange according to a plan. To give a pattern or organization to something.

Order: The arrangement or disposition of people or things in relation to each other according to a particular sequence, pattern, or method. An authoritative command or instruction. To give an authoritative instruction to do something. To request something to be made, supplied, or served.

Authority: The power or right to give orders, make decisions, and enforce obedience. A person or organization having political or administrative power and control.

Obedience: The compliance with an order, request, or law or submission to another's authority. The observance of a monastic rule.

PT-6922 was, by both design and definition, obedient. A unit brought to existence and service to perform a singular purpose. One that it had done efficiently and diligently for the last decade, with a rate of success that excelled over others of its kind. Unprecedentedly exemplary in the extermination for Jedi.

It made sense. According to the records of its past as a soldier of the GAR, it had slain a traitorous Jedi with little to no hesitation upon discovering his absolute corrupt nature. No law stood in the way of it completing its objective. Fit for the role of Purge Trooper. Jedi Hunter. Jedi Killer.

Fit for the 13th Sister's squadron of Force-Sensitive eradicators. Refitted and reprogrammed to her liking and needs.

There was a certain caveat to absolute obedience, and that was that it never equated to one's absolute loyalty. One could comply with the orders of their superiors and be obedient without being loyal to them. And lack of loyalty could be the end of obedience as a whole.

In the past PT-6922 had been both loyal and obedient until its loyalty had been crushed. Then retribution had been swiftly delivered.

These are memories it cannot access easily.

There are occasional flashes. Tiny grains that creep to the surface and whisper in the unit's receptors.

Sometimes it can almost visualize them. Put faces to voices and add a category to instances in a life that had been snuffed out with purpose, to recreate something of a more predatory, controlled and perfect nature.

It doesn't know what any of it means. It has no need for the triviality of answers. The remnants of its mind are a confusing labyrinth it dares not get lost in. No matter how alluring the prospect of navigating such a long winding maze. Of solving a problem without a solution.

Maze: A network of paths and hedges designed as a puzzle through which one has to find a way. To be dazed and confused.

To plan a maze one must follow a simple set of steps:

Step 1: Draw a shape (usually a square) that which you'll use to create your maze out of.

Step 2: Draw another shape inside the initial one, usually the same shape as the first.

Step 3: Draw more and more of these identical shapes inside each other.

Step 4: Add variations to the initial shapes to begin creating unique pathways.

Step 5: Fill those in with defined lines.

Step 6: Highlight your route towards the exit.

Step 7: Add lines to close off routes other than the correct pathway.

There's something about pathways through shapes that seems awfully soothing. PT-6922 cannot explain (or even understand) why that is.

It is a ghost of a feeling that surges like an ache over the left side of its face. Sharp and faint. Phantom pain. When it sits there under the watch of a weary eyed unit, drawing on the wall like it has been instructed to, it often resorts to drawing a very specific shape that it divides into pathways.

Shape: The external form, contours, or outline of someone or something. A geometric figure such as a square, triangle, or rectangle. To give a particular shape or form to something. To take up a stance or set oneself to perform a particular action.

PT-6922 has an affinity for this particular word. Its definitions make the most sense in comparison to everything it is made to do. More sense than killing the Jedi it was programmed to prosecute (an activity it can no longer do, locked away in the clinic).

The way its hands comfortably form these maze-like Vs and lanceoloids, also shows some kind of attraction for the idea of a set of specific shapes.

It does not know what they are or what they mean, but it produces many of them. Enough to fill a wall.

The other unit observing it looks stressed the longer it watches. The much smaller ones sitting beside it, seem less nervous and more intrigued. Fascinated by PT-6922's behavior. Morbidly so.

"There's something there." The palest of the little ones whispers. It has long blond curls, skin as white as paper, and eyes like red apatite. It looks different but the same as the others. Perhaps a different model. Or a defect of production.

"Yes... But not enough." The one with a mohawk and infinitely sad eyes frowns, as it responds to the other in an unsure tone. There is something in those eyes that makes PT-6922 feel the urge to lunge. It cannot. The shackle around its foot will not allow it to reach the other units. "Feels like... When you turn something really fast and let go. Like how it seems like it'll keep moving forever, but it eventually stops..."

"That's..." The one in the hoverchair looks horrified. Its cropped hair is the most compliant to standards PT-6922 is sure should be followed to a T. It does not know why.

"Horrific? Abysmal? Abhorrent?" The one with the pilot's cap supplies drily. Mismatched colored eyes look everywhere but at Pt-6922. The discomfort in its posture is clear as crystal.

"Sad." The unit with poofy locks responds instead. It is more interested in the shapes Pt-6922 draws than the unit itself. Seeming to regard them with equal amounts of sadness and understanding. This one can see method to madness.

The largest of the units still looks ill at ease. Never once speaking up in the same way the smaller units had, instead just observing PT-6922's precise movements. There is a tattoo marking its left temple. Lines and a pair of surgical scissors.

It feels like it should mean something, but PT-6922 finds nothing there. The flashes come and go. Even if it experience them prior it sometimes cannot remember them at all.

Whatever the case it continues to draw on the wall. If it had the need to remember whatever it was, it would. The information was not important.

It doesn't acknowledge the way the other unit's face slowly becomes flustered. Or how tears begin to trail down it's cheeks. Doesn't look up from its task when the little ones are ushered away and the door to its cell closes behind all of them.

It just continues to draw the shapes.

-

"There's nothing I can do for him." Sponge doesn't need to look up at Mae to know her response is not going to be a positive one. They knew from the moment she'd brought the Purge Trooper into their clinic that she'd never take no for an answer.

They understand perfectly.

They didn't like giving up on a brother either. They especially didn't like the idea that nothing they tried might ever be able to fix any of the horrors committed against said brother.

But they had a duty to uphold.

And if they could chose mercy for a tormented soul, they would rather do it than cause any more pain. Dogma's suffering being prolonged for the benefit of their own guilty conscience, was not something they thought they'd ever be able to live with.

They just hoped Mae could understand that.

"There HAS to be something!" Predictably, tragically so, Mae is in denial. She'd put it in her head that she could save him after rescuing Dogma from Imperial control.

She couldn't see that there was nothing left to save.

"You said it yourself, he draws his own tattoo. He draws Tup's tear. He walks and does things like he used to, in that little order he always did his daily routine in..." Mae continued, one hand tugging at one of her dreadlocks, the one that was fraying slightly from constantly running around keeping busy instead of taking time for herself.

How long had it been since she'd last talked to anyone? Held her own daughter? Took a moment to be satisfied with any of the things she'd done?

How much of her was just running on fumes and grief alone?

"Amoeba can't sense anything." Sponge responded. "He's attuned to other's emotions more keenly than either of us could ever hope to understand... If Dogma was still in there, my little jetii'ika would know..."

"That's bantha-shit!" Mae hissed. "He still acts like Dogma! A little... A little subdued... But it has to mean something!"

"That THING is not Dogma." Sponge growled in frustration. Their nails dig into the cushion they've been holding onto since they'd sat down on the sofa. Threatening to rip it apart. "Its just a machine following the motions. Like turning a merry-go-round and letting go. It spins and spins and spins some more, because it was given direction. But eventually it'll stop. What little pathways they could copy into that clunky box will eventually be lost to time..."

"I can't just accept that! I can't just give up!" Mae protested furiously. Desperately. "Not when I've come this far!"

"This isn't about you!" Sponge slammed their hand on the coffee table. "This is about doing right by Dogma, for Force's sake! Keeping that thing around, chained to a wall, left to do the same thing over and over again... Left to exist and stagnate..."

It wasn't right. None of this was right. And yet at the same time...

There had always been a moral and ethical dilemma regarding what most would call a "Good Death".

On one hand, those who existed in constant unending suffering should be given the right to mercy. On the other hand, justifying and controlling death itself in a society as flawed as theirs might lead to some rather dangerous consequences.

It was never going to be an easy call to make, not in this life nor the next. Just as it wasn't easy to say goodbye.

Sponge finally looks up and Mae is crying. Just as they are. This isn't easy for either of them. Not when Dogma had been their friend and vod'ika. They both felt like they'd failed him.

But they could still make it right.

"I'm going to kill that froggy bitch for doing this to him..." Mae has to fight back laughter. She's despairing and the overflow of emotions is too much. She's always laughed when she was nervous. Even when she was crying her eyes out. It's a messy image.

"It was unnecessarily cruel..." Sponge conceded. They'd much rather hunt down the individual who'd decraniated their vod. Put them through the same kind of suffering they'd inflicted upon Dogma.

"Monsters, the lot of them..." Mae covered her face with her hands. So very very exhausted by all of this. "I'm so sick and tired of finding monsters that wear people's faces..."

-

PT-6922 is laying in an unusually comfortable cot. The sheets and blankets are nice and warm. The mattress is soft. The pillows plump and fluffy. They hold its form like an embrace.

Its armour and body glove has been stripped from it. In their place it wears very nice baby blue pajamas with little green frogs decorating them. A rather quaint choice of attire.

Its helmet has been removed to reveal the cybernetic processor that takes up the whole of where its skull used to be. What remains of fleshy surface is just below where its nose should be. The only identifying marker of what it had once been, being the very bottom edge of a once elaborate tattoo.

PT-6922 cannot move. This doesn't disturb it as much as it should. The cot is so very comfortable. The warmth of the sheets, blankets and pajamas is soothing.

There are several units all around it. Watching it. Most looking at it with such a terrible sorrow. There's the traitor as well. A smuggler. The person that had brought it here in the first place. The traitor looks sad as well. Resigned as well.

The unit with the tattoo on its temple approaches. It has a needle in hand. This should be alarming, and yet... PT-6922 can't bring itself to fight back. It just lays there and waits.

"You can rest now." The unit says with conviction, despite it's weepy eyes and shaky hands. "I'm sorry Dogma. Tup's waiting for you..."

The needle plunges into its rightful spot. Awareness melts away. PT-6922 fades.

Beyond the veil, two brothers embrace after many years of separation. At last there is peace.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Whumptober Day 3: Hair's Breadth From Death

Prompt: Gun to Temple & "Say Goodbye."

Warning: Depiction of a Murder-Suicide

Summary: For as long as they could remember, Bully and Jawbreaker had always been a duo. Death wouldn't separate them. Not for long...

[Mae's story, from her point of view, is about righteous and vindictive anger. In truth however her story has always been and forever will be about grief and the affect it has on her life. Bully's and Jawbreaker's fates after Order 66 went live are a great part of that.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

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Their comms were on an endless loop. A constant droning of the same words repeated over and over again, as if they hadn't heard it the first time. Or the second. Or the third, and so forth.

A new order had come through. One that was prioritized over every single other order they already had to follow, to complete the current campaign to take down the Separatist presence on Cato Neimoidia. The incessant repetition on comms made it seem like absolutely everything had to be put on the metaphorical back-burner, until this one simple task was completed.

Which, to Jawbreaker at least, didn't make any sense. He wasn't exactly sure how he knew what Order 66 was (a lot of protocols were taught to them via flashcards while they were itty bitty cadets tucked away in their pods, so they were very subconsciously ingrained in them), but the faint recognition was there.

The prioritization of it over literally everything else, however, was ridiculous. Not to mention somewhat dubious.

After Krell, it had become second nature to him to be cautious when it came to getting strange orders from the command chain. Especially if it wasn't a GAR official calling the shots. The chancellor ordering them to attack general Plo Koon was nothing short of strange... But the others didn't seem to agree.

Which was where the current dilemma lay.

It was like the flip of a switch. One moment both he and Bully had gotten that strange message, the next Bully was hunting Mae with a cold calculative demeanor while ignoring him entirely. And Jawbreaker didn't know what to do besides follow his closest brother, watching helplessly as the dear sister that had saved their lives duck and weaved between debris, evading shots that came a hairs breadth away from hitting her.

All of this was happening while the three ignored the roar of maneuvering ships, as the Wolfpack honed in on their unsuspecting prey.

There wouldn't be a general soon, and Jawbreaker didn't understand why everyone else was complying so eagerly with protocol 66. Plo Koon would have never betrayed the Republic. Just as Bully would have never turned on Mae like this...

It just didn't make sense. Didn't feel right.

And then finally a shot connected with one of Mae's prosthetic legs and she was on the ground. Like a rabid massiff ready to deliver the killing bite, Bully lunged on top of her. Ready to kill a traitor sympathizer.

Jawbreaker never even realized he'd pulled out his blaster, until his older brother collapsed on top of his quarry. A shot clean through the back of his head. Glassy eyes staring unblinkingly at nothing, while blood pooled all around on the ground and onto Mae's horrified face.

Bully and Jawbreaker had lost their original batch before they'd ever left Kamino. The trainers they'd been put under had been ruthless and cruel, often unsatisfied with the cadets they beat into submission.

Their squad had been made entirely of similar strays. Tup and Dogma who'd been reared in pure isolation and experimented on by an especially deranged cloner. And Acronym who'd watched Dread Priest throw all his littlest siblings into the unforgiving seas.

They'd ended up separated in the end. Lost Acronym to a vexus on Umbara, then Dogma to the Senate's cruelty, and promptly disowned Tup in their fury over what they'd overheard him let slide at 79's.

For as long as they could remember Bully and Jawbreaker were a duo. Just the two of them against the world, often content that way.

Mae had often been with them but she never got in the way of their most precious brotherly bond. She was their older sister, but they were a duo. Death wouldn't separate them. Not for long...

Jawbreaker didn't think he could make it without his older brother. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye. But Mae would have that chance.

Heart heavy, mind full of fear and grief, the blaster rested against his temple as he stared down at the corpse of his brother and best friend. His older sister staring up at him in muted horror as he gave her a wet smile.

"Goo'bah shish... Luhf y'u..."

He didn't get to hear her scream.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Feel free to send me these about my Star Wars OCs, I'm in a mood for some questions about them.

They are: Mae(leen) Eppa, Fae Eppa, the Terruss Family (Lumah, Sheelah and Tavy), Zed Kwinde, Jedi Master Vikerius Kwinde (later recreated as the droid known as Vik), Arc Trooper Bully, Arc Trooper Jawbreaker, Clone Medic Pox, Clone Trooper Lichtenberg, Clone Trooper Pretty Boy, Riot Trooper Olly, K1MB (Mambo), J0L1 (Julius), Commando Droid HS-11 (Hush), Courier Droid C0R-13R (Corrie) and Clone Cadet Caboose.

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[mwolf0epsilon]

What’s wrong with having curly hair?

Summary: Mae has some strong opinions about straightening irons and self-image.

[I've seen way too many people saying curly hair is unappealing and that people with naturally curly hair should straighten it chemically to look more professional, and honestly that irks me a bit. So who better to vent these thoughts through than Mae who has very thick curly hair?]

[THIS STORY IS NOW ON AO3]

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The straightening iron gets torn out of the poor Shiny's hands before he even realises what's going on. There's enough time to yelp and jump back (the trooper's shoulders knocking against one of his squad members's chest), before the poor kid is pulled forward by the collar of his body-glove.

"What do you think you're doing?!" The Wolfpack's natborn engineer hisses, clearly upset at something.

It wasn't often that Mae acted so unwelcoming to any of the Shinies, or even to their attempts at figuring out what to do with their appearances, but the sight of the straightening iron had made her freeze mid-conversation with Bully and Jawbreaker.

Something terribly haunted had crossed her face and she'd rushed forward to snatch the offending item from the trooper's grasp. Both ARCs had been caught so off guard that they were just openly gawking at the whole thing.

"A-Ah, I was just... I just wanted to fix up my hair!" The clone Mae had startled stammered as he tried to pull away from the vice grip on his collar. It was a little odd seeing a 5'2" girl pulling a 5'7" man down so easily, but then again Mae was known for being a lot stronger than she looked. You had to be if you had to cart around such heavy equipment all the time, and Mae did take a little bit of pride in working out regularly.

"Your hair's fine as it is." The girl huffed as she let go of the newbie's collar, the hand holding the straightening iron clenching further. "You don't need to ruin it with this piece of junk..."

"But... But everyone else has curly hair! Why can't I... Why can't I have straight hair? It'd, I think it'd look nicer..." The trooper protested.

"What's wrong with curly hair?" Mae cocked her hair to the side. Her own curls bouncing slightly with the motion.

"It looks... It looks kind of messy." The Shiny admitted. "I don't... I don't want to look messy, or dirty or..."

"What's your name?" Mae interrupts, trying not to glare at the explanation he'd been giving her.

"His name is Neatfreak." One of the other Shinies offers.

"Ah.... Look Neat, s'ok if I call you Neat? Of course it is." Mae sighed. "Your hair doesn't look messy the way it is. It looks nice and you obviously put a lot of care into it already... Straightening it will just damage it, and honestly straight hair isn't all that great to begin with. It gets knotted, it looks weird in the wind, and it can get in the way when you're nose deep in whatever task you're doing at the moment..."

Neatfreak frowned, considering her every word and pondering on the pros and cons. He didn't look too convinced.

"Also have you seen Crys of the 212th? Straight piss yellow hair? The guy looks like a clown! The 104th is a badass battalion, if you want to look distinct how about a cool tattoo? Or some piercings? Or a intricate fade? You have tons of brothers here that can make you look both very presentable and very cool."

That seemed to do the trick. Nit-picky about his appearance or not, the prospect of looking like a badass always got the Shinies beaming with excitement. Plus a little sibling rivalry sprinkled in the middle helped push them in the right direction.

Once the squad of newbies was sent off to the barracks with the best inkers, barbers and jewellers of the 104th as a reference, Bully and Jawbreaker finally approached Mae. They both seemed apprehensive.

"Wha' wash dah' all abou'?" Jawbreaker asked out of curiosity.

".... There's nothing wrong with having curly hair." The engineer sighed before looking hatefully at the straightening iron still in her grasp. "And these stupid things shouldn't even be anywhere near the GAR..."

There's no need to tell them about how her mother would straighten Mae's hair against her wishes, claiming that such a prestigious youth as herself (the child of a Senator) shouldn't look like an ugly slums brat.

Her mother who'd long since chemically straightened her own hair so she'd never have to look in a mirror and remember where she'd come from, because that girl was dead and gone and riches and power would surely bring her the happiness her childhood lacked.

Kriffing straightening iron...

[mwolf0epsilon]

I've decided to join the Star Wars OC Quiz bandwagon:

Which Star Wars Blorbo from Eps's Brain are you?

[mwolf0epsilon]

A bunch of Star Wars doodles (mostly oc stuff) that I might finish some day...

Mambo is neither a licensed medic nor a nanny droid, yet here we are...

A sleepy Crosshair (from my Amnesiac Crosshair AU) holding his little tooka, Lula II.

Two BD Units.

Rebels Era Wolffe as that one sword dog meme.

Kel Dor hatchling cycle headcanon. I like the idea of little grub babies that go through a kinda tadpole stage. When they reach one year of age, they initiate their toddler stage (no tail and toddling around on all fours) and can eat solids.

Hush, one of Mae's crewmates. He's a Commando droid with a damaged voice modulator, and a higher level of sentience than most battle droids. When presented with a choice of self-preservation and loyalty to the Separatists, he chose the former without hesitation.

My boy Pox in a dress. He'd look lovely!

Pox's helmet. He still wears Phase I clone armour because he never got the chance to properly join the war effort.

Concepts sketches of Zed Kwinde, a cyborg mercenary that serves as one of Mae's most valuable intel sources.

Space filler Nexu Crosshair doodle.

Surprisingly nice doodle of Mae being a menace to her poor medic. Mambo won't admit it, but he's got it bad for this one painfully annoying organic...

Pox in all his inexplicably beefy glory. Why does a medic need to be so stacked? Not sure, I didn't initially envision him as a big strong buff clone. Guess his diet and exercise regiment must have been a good one while he was self-isolating...

[mwolf0epsilon]

Pre-Empire Mae looked a lot cuter than she does while roaming the universe with her gang of droids. That said, she used her cuteness for “evil”, aka opposing Wolffe by giving their general the big sad puppy dog eyes whenever she wanted anything. This is how she managed to get her pet massiff too. He’s not so small anymore but he’s certainly still a cute chunky baby in her eyes.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Asking for your OC. Would you please introduce your favorite?

My favourite Star Wars oc is definitely Mae Eppa.

She's one of my more complex characters, who's spent her entire life trying to get out of one difficult situation after another, and who's basically a self-made successful lady in her own right.

Mae is both street-smart, emotionally intelligent, and capable of holding her own in a fight. She's both an engineer, mechanic and a droids expert (although takes more pride in the whole droids expert thing she has going on) and proud of her skills as all three. She's a little awkward and doesn't understand a few social-cues due to having been raised by a droid. Her humour's quite flat, often a little dark, and she can come off as abrasive or downright rude on a first impression.

Despite her more tomboyish lifestyle, she's incredibly in tune with her feminine side and enjoys prettying herself up on occasion. She's a mom friend, an actual mom as well, and is always looking out for others despite her whole "looking out for number one" attitude. She's been busting her butt trying to smuggle clones out of Imperial control, which is a testament of her absolute loyalty towards the friends she made during the clone wars.

I think that summarises her pretty nicely.

[mwolf0epsilon]

TCW Era Mae and Wolffe's relationship in a nutshell...

Just felt like doing a silly edit to pass the time, and of course I had to pick a WikiHow meme. Talk smack about droids, get sprayed.

Original under the cut!

[mwolf0epsilon]

In which a Kel Dor Mandalorian finds a small "unattended" minor...

@lost-on-kamino has a really cool Mando oc, and I had to draw him holding little Fae. Everything is absolutely fine in the background, don't worry about Mae. Her dear hubby has gotten used to holding her like that whenever she's looking to start a fight.

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Thought I'd end the year with some oc art, so here's my droid-enthusiast engineer-turned-smuggler gal, Maeleen Eppa, in all her rough edged glory.

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Mae Eppa, a droids specialist and engineer with a snarky streak, that used to work as a ship-repairwoman for the Republic (although due to a few prior incidents, she refused to work for anyone but the Wolfpack, since Plo Koon had gained her respect). As far as loyalties go Mae is loyal to herself, the few people in her inner-circle, and droids.

Julius (J0-L1), a prototype astromech that speaks primarily in slang and holonet speech. He was rescued by Mae early on during her stint with the Republic, so he’s one of two droids who bare the Wolfpack’s emblem and colours. He also has a collection of heavy metal and pop songs he plays for Mae whenever she’s doing repairs.Mambo (K-1MB), a repurposed Security Droid who's now the team medic and the only responsible adult. He was rescued much later during the Empire’s reign, so he never really met the Wolfpack, but Mae believes he would have been a perfect fit, so she gave him what she considered a great honour as to bare their paint-scheme and colours.

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I really need to know who married a lady and a KX Droid without batting an eye.

Either someone who is fine with marrying organics and droids, or someone who was held at blaster-point.

Mae's not above threatening people to get what she wants. Plus she's got no time for other people's prejudice against droids.

She loves Mambo and she's happily married to him.

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Mae doesn't talk about her parents.

She doesn't talk about the highly influential wealthy senators that started out as two dirt-poor artisans from the lowest of the lowest slums of their respective birth-cities.

She doesn't talk about her mother who made novelty purses, shoes and wallets from cork and intricately woven rope, as her mother and her mother's mother before them all had. Doesn't talk about how her mother taught herself to read from trading what little goods and credits she could for old flimsy tomes and educational Holos. Never once utters a single whisper about how her mother was the only member of her long forgotten extended family that wasn't illiterate.

She doesn't talk about how her father spent his days making and painting intricate ceramic tiles, and spent his nights working in the public library. Doesn't dare say how he used to devour what knowledge he could on things like the arts, literature, law and politics. Never speaks of how much he'd strived to work his way up out of the social pit he'd been born in, hoping to one day right the wrongs of Poluzitania.

Mae doesn't talk about two people that should have been humble self-made inspirations that overcame every challenge life threw their way, because in her eyes they'd failed the moment they let greed and corruption cloud their judgement.

Mae learned early on that not all who work to beat poverty and inequality remain humble and kind. Some lose sight of who they'd been, and let the whispers of others win them over with empty promises of unimaginable power.

She had grown disillusioned with the Republic and it's lies, and yearned to see it burn to the ground as she fled towards unknown space... But then she'd been caught by the Separatists and then subsequently rescued by the 104th and their kind and compassionate Jedi general.

And then she'd almost forgotten the lesson she'd thought she'd learned long ago, because she dared hope that the Jedi wouldn't fall at the hands of the Republic's insidious rottenness...

[mwolf0epsilon]

For Mae: 1, 11, 20, 33 and 35.

1. What’s the one thing they would save in a fire?

Her pet massiff, Fido. She doesn't have any personal possessions that she's overly attached to because she knows the smuggling life's not exactly stable.

11. Who’s the most important person in their life?

Mambo. They're married.

20. Who’s their go-to person for advice?

Depends on the advice. In most cases she goes to Mambo because he's got common sense (unlike most of Mae's friends).

She does tend to go to Julius for battle plan advice though... The little astromech has some wild ideas.

33. What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had?

That'd be the time Grievous cut off her legs. She nearly died.

Karma's a bitch though and she didn't rest until she could salvage his legs specifically to use as prosthetics. She's a petty sort.

35. Do/did they want children?

Mae's IS a mother. She adopted her and Mambo's daughter, Fae.