#makes me think of the Kyrian empire

[celedyn]

DWC - Day 1 - Afterlife

“So the problem started up when this Maw Walker was out and about and she needed supplies and they SOLD them to her; yes, sold. Did you know the shadowlands has commerce? And an economy? And people have jobs? I saw someone who just sits there all day fully dead and just makes these dreadful shapeless little pillow case dresses for the Kyrian, you go and you live your whole life and then you die and you need to go get a JOB. I don’t really think about death much, but I always presumed that it would be a sort of post scarcity society, but no! You trundle on out and you just find some other sort of work, and people have property and they even have taxes though they call them tithes and when people spoke about death and taxes I didn’t think it was so LITERAL. Anyway, I’m digressing.” The high elf glanced down to prod his straw into his drink, poking holes into the rum soaked pieces of fruit as he continued. “So she needed supplies and she goes and tries to buy them, you know, from a VENDOR, who just died and now SELLS THINGS FOR ETERNITY and you know how those champions are, they don’t have any concept for the actual value of gold, you can sell them gravy stew for twelve gold, or in this case, three gold coins for a literal pomegranate. Nothing special about it, nothing done to it, just someone pulled it off a… a bush or whatever and this champion traded three gold coins for it. Which! It wasn’t a problem at the time, they probably accepted the Maw Walker’s currency for the sheer novelty of it; but then you have them opening portals into the literal afterlife and people are just wandering in and out and bringing all their Azerothian currency and suddenly people are scandalized at being told a little bitty spindle of thread, not even enough for a whole garment, a teeny little thing is twelve gold because it’s certainly worth at least four pomegranates and suddenly they realize everything is a dreadful mess.” He took a sip from the pineapple, briefly swooned by the harsh bite of the liquor, before snapping back into attention “So anyways, they realize they’ve made a mess of things and they start looking for guidance and they find a tome there which TRUELY I did not think there were any remaining copies; they find a tome from my memoire phase that has a chapter or three on the establishment of standards of trade between the Empire of Arathor and the freshly awoken Earthen; and someone goes “Oh! Celedyn Morningwood! I know that name! He’s still alive and working in Booty Bay!” so then they decide to come and talk to me about it! Now, speaking from personal experience darling, a good memoire is like a good dress: it’s long enough to cover everything important, short enough to be interesting, and liberally embellished. I’m not saying I was entirely equipped to determine the conversion rate between stygia and an Azerothian cow;  but I may be the closest that be to equipped and sometimes you just have to smile and pretend you know what you’re doing; and besides I figured I may as well start building a reputation for my skill set now so that when I DIE I can have a foot in the door for applying to a new JOB.” He sighed deeply and lifted his hollowed pineapple, shuffling a few of the brightly colored umbrellas out of the way. “This is going to be a long story, kitten, you had better top me off before I really start in on it.” “Sir.” The large Pandaren shifted, giving the high elf an incredulous look “this is a noodle cart.”

[depizan]

Some questions for you!

Fandom questions: Is Star Wars the only fandom you write for? Have you tried any others?

SWTOR questions: Why did you pick the smuggler/agent to interact the most in your stories? If you were to rank the canon class stories 1-8 with 1 being the best, where would those two class stories rank. Your Fic questions: Which characters are the easiest to write for? Is there a specific decision/scene you're struggling with now that's killing the inspiration? Do you still draw?

Oop, this got kind of long.

Fandom:

Star Wars is the only fandom I've written for. Unless you count the crossover between Star Wars and Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers I wrote a million years ago back in high school, before I knew fanfic was a thing. (Mad science caused portals between universes, I think? It was a verrrrry long time ago.)

Though, I have done a few one-off "how things could've gone" things when discussing fiction on line that got detailed enough to count as fanfic. At least one for Narnia did.

SWTOR:

Kyrian, Jezari, and Savler were the first characters I created when I started playing, so they were the first characters who really became characters. And when it came to fic, Kyrian and Jezari were set up nicely to continue interacting. (Granted, that would be true of Jezari and Savler as well, since I created them as friends.) They also ended up being the right kind of characters for the kind of stories I usually write.

I'm going to rank Agent as 1. It basically nailed it on all counts. It had a solid idea and themes and executed them well. The story feels like a coherent whole, feels Star Warsy without duplicating any existing Star Wars thing, and has enough give in it for the player to shift the tone a bit depending on their choices. It also feels like there's room for a really broad variety of characters as the Agent. (I admit it helps that the nature of the story leaves a lot of room for why your character says what they do.) It's not flawless, but most of my complaints also apply to the game as a whole, and even where it could have been better, it never drops below decent/good.

Smuggler is...oh god, how do I rank the Smuggler story? The only thing it nails consistently is tone. Everything else is a hot mess. That said, I find it more enjoyable to play than some of the stories that are more coherent. And it does feel like Star Wars, so the worst I could rank it would be a 7. Also, its best moments are quite good. It's just that it has no focus, doesn't seem to know what it's doing most of the time, has too many "we did this just because Han Solo" bits, and has some other bits that are absolute WTFery. Also, while I haven't played a male!Smuggler, watching YouTubes of it makes me never want to. I don't know. I guess we average things and call it a 5.

Fic:

Jezari and Kyrian (another reason why they feature in fic so much).

I think my general tendency to second guess everything is most of what's killing my inspiration. Though, wrecking Kyrian's life has made things a little more of a challenge, both because that ended one source of tension and because the usual paths back from that sort of thing (for fictional characters) aren't right for him. (Also it makes the Empire a scarier threat. Damn, they really could kill you horribly. Which, I mean, nothing actually changed. It just the weird effect going even mildly "reality ensues" has on things.)

Technically, I still draw. I just don't very often. I stopped long enough that I'm all squidgy about starting up again. Though I did draw my character for a coworkers one-shot D&D game:

[depizan]

Personal Question

A bored Kaliyo wonders about Kyrian’s scars.

Not whump, just more of Kyrian and Kaliyo having…some kind of relationship.

Whumptober prompt #16: scars

26.4.10, midday, ship’s time

Kyrian studied the report Watcher Two had sent. Imperial Intelligence’s information on the “Ghost Cell” made for a surprisingly short file—if the report really contained all of Intelligence’s information. It was standard practice to limit field agents to precisely what they needed to know for their missions, no more, no less. Then, if the agent were captured, the Empire’s enemies would only gain a small amount of information.

Not the most optimistic line of thinking.

He paged back to the beginning of the report and tried to concentrate. An elite terrorist cell, with skills that sounded equivalent to any intelligence agency, did not seem like something that could be handled by a single agent, no matter what inside knowledge his contact might have. Assuming that wasn’t a trap.

He gave up on the Ghost Cell file and brought up his briefing on Tatooine. If he wanted to be pessimistic, it was the sort of planet where a body—or many bodies—would never be found. If he wanted to be more optimistic, it was also the sort of planet where the Imperial Navy could land, take an entire terror cell into custody, and depart again, with no local government to worry about.

That was an outcome he could believe in. If one that could be tricky, if his mysterious contact was being open about their intentions.

Kaliyo dropped onto the couch beside him, so close their shoulders bumped. She took the datapad from his hands. “This junk really that interesting?”

“I’d like to be prepared for Tatooine when we arrive.”

She made a dismissive noise. “What’s to prepare for? It’s a hot, sandy shithole. Hope you packed some sunscreen. It’s hell on humans.”

“Not on Rattataki?”

“Didn’t say I didn’t pack sunscreen.” She grinned. “But you gotta protect your delicate skin. Be a shame if the sand people staked you out naked on a blood-ant nest.”

“Would sunscreen prevent that?”

She laughed. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re bored.”

“So entertain me.” She straddled him.

 .

Sometime later, Kaliyo traced the scars on Kyrian’s left shoulder and upper arm with her fingernail. “You ever gonna tell me how you got these, Agent?”

“I’m afraid it isn’t very interesting,” Kyrian said.

“Somebody wanted to mark you.” She ran her fingernail down the scar on his cheek. “You don’t get scars like this by accident.”

He gently pulled her hand away. “Surprisingly, you do.”

She snorted. “The Empire ran out of kolto?”

“No.” There was no reason not to explain, save that her curiosity was no more trustworthy than the rest of her. “I disobeyed orders on a training exercise. It…didn’t go quite as I’d hoped.” The bright flash of pain stuck in his memory less than Instructor Senrit’s scathing lecture afterward. Or his fear that the scars would make him too conspicuous for field work, even as minor as they were.

“Harsh.” She sounded pleased. “Not as good as somebody holding you down with a knife and—”

“Kaliyo.”

She grinned. “It’s fun to watch you squirm.”

 Tags: whumptober2021, no.16, scars, questionable relationships, fic, swtor, I write, Kyrian Nessar

[depizan]

Forgotten Enemy

Jezari knew that Rogun the Butcher wanted her to pay for the loss of his cargo, even though it hadn’t been her fault. But it was hardly the first time she’d had a bounty on her head, and how important could one measly cargo be to such a powerful crime lord? She’d hoped he’d forgotten about her. She’d certainly forgotten about him.

(I’m probably not going to be this mean in “canon,” but Jezari and her crew will have to deal with Rogun at some point. And I’m of the mind that he matches his reputation, never mind what the game tries to pull at the end. Still, this is more of a “what if,” or at least a “what could.”)

##.##.1#, midday

Millport reminded Jezari a little of Raider’s Cove. A jumble of bland industrial buildings sprouting from a vibrant jungle, walls overshadowed by giant-leaved trees, the landing pads and docking bays ringed with sonic repellers to keep the jungle birds and other creatures away. Sometime back, one of the corps (probably Czerka) had found a rich source of some valuable ore in Bornuu’s jungles. They’d swooped in, built a quick mining city, torn a swath through the jungle, and left again when the seams played out.

The jungle had crept back and the underworld had crept in.

The smelters were rotting, half eaten by the jungle, but the quickthrow and presscrete city lived on—a thriving market place of illicit goods and secret meetings. That was what happened if you left a ready-to-use port close enough to a major tradespine to be useful, but far enough away that only the most desperate of legitimate travelers stopped in. That it was also far enough from Hutt Space to remain independent was a bonus. (Though there were rumors it was secretly run by the Exchange.)

Jezari finished off a skewer of spiced meat and flicked the wooden stick into an overflowing trashcan at another market stall. Bowdaar still had one of the skewers sticking out of the corner of his mouth like a Wookiee-sized toothpick. Risha had noted that you couldn’t be too sure what—or who—you were eating in a place like this, but even she’d bought one.

“Micro-coils, Razoroon Red, reddimeals.” Jezari gestured to Risha’s datapad. “What’s left?”

Her engineer and unofficial second in command consulted the list. “Ferite wire. Hm. The medkit could use a restock. I wouldn’t trust kolto here, but we might find antiseptic.” She glanced at her wrist chrono. “We’ve still got half an hour.”

They were due to meet back up with the rest of her crew then. Millport wasn’t dangerous, but Jezari was a firm believer in the buddy system. There were just too many ways to run into trouble planetside.

Risha had stopped to admire a bolt of iridescent shimmersilk when Corso’s panicked shout rose above the general clamor.

“Captain! Captain!” He dodged around a pair of Quarren, who glared at his passing, and skidded to a panting halt in front of them. “Captain. I’m sorry.” He wheezed. “I couldn’t.”

“Take a deep breath and slow down,” Risha said.

His face was red from exertion, but his green and white armor was unmarked and he didn’t appear to be hurt. He was, however, alone.

“Where’s Kyrian?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Corso repeated. “They had a knife to his throat before I could do anything.” He took another deep breath. “They had darts. Like bounty hunters.”

Jezari’s blood went cold. “The Empire?”

He shook his head. “No. They were the… the…” He waved his hands in front of him, almost dropping the comm clutched in one, outlining a person about his size. “The gray wrinkly guys.”

“Weequay?” Risha suggested.

“Yeah. Them. Bounty hunters, I figure.”

“The Empire wouldn’t hire aliens. Not if they could help it.” Risha frowned. “I’m not sure they’d hire bounty hunters at all. Not in his case.”

“Dralick?” Jezari looked around frantically, as if she might spot the Sith lord. There was nothing around them but stalls and shoppers. A building with a couple of scantily dressed humans lounging in the doorway. A Gamorrean and a Twi’lek dicing in an alley.

“Don’t panic, Captain,” Risha said. “We’ll find him.”

The comm in Corso’s hand chimed. “Oh. Yeah. They threw this at me.”

Jezari took it and pressed the flashing button. A blue tinted holo of a Chagrian sprouted to life above the comm. He was tall enough that the top of his horns were out of pickup range, and his expression was almost disappointed.

Her jaw dropped. “Rogun?”

“Captain Solarin,” Rogun the Butcher said, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.

“Look, Rogun, whatever you want—”

“You know what I want. No one steals from me and lives.”

“I didn’t steal from you! That was Skavak!”

“It was,” Corso agreed. “She didn’t have nothin’ to do with it!”

“I’ve tried to settle this reasonably,” Rogun continued, “but you’ve been so hard on my men. No more running, no more tricks.”

“I can get the money,” Jezari said. “Pay you back for the weapons, for my fee, for everything. With interest even!���

“We’re long past that. You’ve made me look bad. Some puny nobody freighter pilot steals from me? Shoots my men? Jaunts all over the galaxy acting like she doesn’t have a care? Like a bounty from Rogun the Butcher means nothing to her? His voice rose, anger replacing all trace of the false disappointment. “No, Captain. I want you.”

“Rogun…”

The holo image blurred as someone moved the camera on the other end. It refocused on her missing crewmember. Kyrian had been stripped to the waist, his wrists fastened individually to a bar or pipe that ran above his head and out of camera range. He looked more wary than worried, and uninjured. So far.

Rogun stepped into view again, next to him. He had a knife in one hand. Kyrian glanced at the knife, then looked away, his expression unreadable.

“Rogun, he has nothing to do with this. Let him go. I’ll meet you. What ever you want. Just tell me.”

“I told you what I want. I want you to meet me. In the back room of the Lucky Stake. Alone.” He pointed the knife at the holocam. “No weapons. No tricks. In the meantime,” he turned back to Kyrian, “I’ll be counting down the time with your friend. Minute by minute.” Almost casually, he set the tip of the knife against Kyrian’s collarbone and drew it slowly downward, cutting a diagonal line across his chest.

Kyrian flinched, but didn’t cry out.

“No!” Jezari yelped. “Wait, I’m coming!”

“I know you will, Captain,” Rogun said. “That’s the point. You come here. The rest of your crew goes back to your ship.” He smiled. “To their ship. No funny business, now. And I wouldn’t take too long. Minutes add up quickly.” He sliced a second cut beside the first.

“Wait! No!”

The comm was dead.

“No! Damn it!” Jezari tried to reestablish the connection, but Rogun had called from a blocked frequency. “No.”

“We’ll think of something,” Risha said.

Bowdaar growled his agreement.

“There’s no time.” Jezari unbuckled her gun belt. “Go back to the ship. Figure out a plan. Call Savler. Get her help. Get her as back up.” She shoved her belt and blasters into Risha’s arms. “Just… hurry.”

“You can’t go. Captain. Jezari.” Risha caught her wrist. “He won’t let him go. You know that. He’ll torture you both to death. That’s what he wants.”

Jezari pulled her hand free. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Captain, she’s right,” Corso said. “You can’t!”

“It’s the only way to stall him. Think of something.”

“It won’t make a difference. Damn it, Bowdaar, stop her,” Risha ordered. “You’re just giving him another victim! Kyrian can hold out for a little while.”

Jezari turned back. “If I don’t go, Rogun will do something worse. He might even kill him. He has to think he’s won.” She took a deep breath. “Make him think he’s won. Move the Luck. Come back. Save us. I’m counting on you.” She turned and walked into the crowd before they could argue.

“Captain!”

Jezari ran.

Tags: whumptober 2021, no. 4, taken hostage, swtor, fic, torture, knives, I write, Jezari Solarin, Kyrian Nessar

[depizan]

7, 8, and 14 for Kyrian?

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

Okay, this is kind of weird and backwards (or entirely appropriate, depending on how you look at it), but the songs that make me think of Kyrian are those that are...

actual (fictional) spy songs, like Secret Agent Man

or about the (fictional) spying life, like You Know My Name

or sound like they could be about the spying life, like Everybody Wants You

or have been forever associated with the Agent story by Tumblr, like You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Even though they all apply far more to who he should have been (at least from Intelligence's point of view), or tried to be (for certain, very generous values of "tried"), than who he actually is. Though the leading a dangerous life that will fuck you over part still applies...

(I am not actually sure what a good song for Kyrian, as he actually is, at his best would be. I'll have to ponder that.)

And, yes, since Kyrian likes spy fiction even though (or because?) it's not realistic, he would enjoy these. His inner 12 year old and my inner 12 year old would get along fabulously. (Outside of movie/holothriller related music, I think he'd go for cheerful, upbeat music, and possibly ballads - as long as the story being told was a happy one.)

8. What’s it like inside your oc’s mind? (Literally, or metaphorically.)

That depends on when we’re talking about.

When he was a kid/teen (before Imperial Intelligence, basically), it was full of daydreams and adventurous fantasies of seeing the galaxy and saving the day. Not all of the time, of course – he had schoolwork and friends and other things to concentrate on, but there was a more than decent amount of mental space taken up with fantasies of being the Empire’s equivalent to James Bond or Indiana Jones. He never stopped to consider whether the real thing bore any resemblance to his adolescent fantasies. And, while it wasn’t a perfectly well-ordered mind, it was certainly more clear minded and keenly focused – if on a fantastical goal – than later in life. (When, unfortunately, he had attained his fantastical goal.)

Intelligence training taught him to have a much more complicated mind. Must keep up the façade of good little agent trainee, must stuff all screaming doubts about whether he was remotely suited to being an agent in a little box in the back of his mind and keep it nailed firmly shut, must think of creative ways to accomplish what he had to accomplish (bonus points for doing nothing horrible and nothing that got him in trouble.) A more sensible young man would probably have said: “I have made a terrible mistake, please transfer me to analyst training.”

As a field agent, all of that applied, plus an exciting metaphorical roller-coaster consisting of flying high on successfully doing things his way followed by moments of absolute soul freezing terror of what would happen should HQ ever find out about some of his more…treasonous questionable!…moments. Which is not to say that his confidence was a fraud, just that there was a screaming box of doubts he was determinedly ignoring, and the occasional gruesome nightmare. So much for a clear, keenly focused mind.

Now it’s a metaphorical tangle (Mirkwood, perhaps). The doubts have escaped their box, he has no idea how he fits into Jezari’s crew (or career(s)), he’s terrified of the Empire and everyone in it, and yet, despite all of the staticky terror and thorns and darkness (and a whole new host of nightmares), he still really wants to see the galaxy and help people.

He’s working on it.

14. If your oc spent one day free from any consequences or recognition for their actions, how would they act?

I’m not sure it would matter. It hasn’t really been consequences or recognition (or the avoidance of either) that has driven him, or, conversely, kept him from doing things. I mean, yes, a time or two not dying has driven his actions, but even then, we’re talking either a fight to the death – in which case, his having had temporary immortality would simply have meant that his opponent would have lived – or a situation in which he had no power anyway, so the lack of consequences would have to also impart the ability to do something, not just survive objecting to some Imperial/Sith horror. And it would also have to protect other people from any consequences. It does no good to save people from one horror, only for them to pay the price for having survived it the next day.

Offer him one day of functional omnipotence and he’d try to figure out how to create and ensure galactic peace and happiness, but offer him one day free of consequences and he’d just look at you in confusion.

(I realize that the question may intend to grant invisibility, invulnerability, and the ability to teleport to all the people that the galaxy would be better off without, but a rampage of stealthy murder is just not what comes to Kyrian’s mind when trying to answer the question of “how to help people.” And the kinds of things that do come to his mind aren’t really the sort where “free of consequences or recognition” feels like a helpful power.)

(Other than maybe Novani, I suspect my other characters would all be down for a little righteous invisible murdering to make the galaxy a better place.)

[depizan]

100 Days of Writing

@the-wip-project‘s 100 days of writing

Day I Lost Track Somewhere In There Part One

Inspired by both what @tishinada has been doing and her comment on my post bemoaning the fact that the recent prompts haven’t been working for me, I’m going to talk about the world building, spackling, clarifying, and Director Furying that I have done... in the process of working out my character’s backstories.

Working out Kyrian’s background required making decisions about what life in the Sith Empire was like and how Imperial Intelligence worked. Not that the game gives one nothing, but it’s a bit inconsistent and missing a lot of pieces. I mostly leaned into the idea of the Empire as a highly bureaucratic Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil sort of place, with the more sensible Sith keeping the less sensible Sith from fucking things up too much. The Empire is also a country and society built around the idea of galactic conquest, and a peace treaty isn’t going to change that.

So the Empire as it comes up in my stories is bad in a lot of the ways you’d expect: there are different laws for ordinary people and for Sith, punishments tend to be harsh, questioning authority is not something you do lightly, the media is state controlled and heavy on propaganda, there’s a lot of control over what comes into the Empire (especially when it comes to things that could screw up the propaganda), it’s a society in which there’s not a lot of choice for most people... all the usual stuff.

But there’s also a lot of mixed and ordinary stuff, too. Medical care is pretty good because the Empire needs its citizens (though treatment choices are probably limited to nonexistent - what’s best for the Empire is what matters.) There’s vacation time, and patriotic holidays, and if everyone has compulsory service, there must be time off for having children as well. People do get to retire at some point, though I imagine there’s a period in which you could still be called back up if needed. (Like if the Treaty were broken and the war resumed.)

Education (for ordinary people) is through boarding schools, and with the war resulting in a fair number of orphans, some number of those boarding schools – of those that served the lower classes, anyway – became orphanages as well as schools. (Which didn’t require huge changes – there were probably already some kids living there year round in any given year because of their parents’ military service.) They are neither the best nor the worst boarding schools ever, but they do have a lot of influence on their students’ futures. Almost entirely so for the orphans, mostly so for others (mostly, because, while the Empire likes to claim it’s a meritocracy, it has just as much of a nepotism problem as the Republic).

Of course, with everyone knowing that how well you do and in what determines your future career, most people put their efforts into ending up somewhere they’d want to be. … And now that I think about it, the upper class boarding schools are probably a lot more unpleasant than the lower class ones because you’re going to have a lot more direct competition there. At a school like the one Kyrian went to, no one’s going straight into anything prestigious unless they’re wildly exceptional or get lucky(?) and are scouted by Imperial Intelligence – most are going straight on to some form of basic training and from there to be mechanics and tradespeople and medics and career soldiers and low level bureaucrats and all the other ordinary folk who keep the Empire running.

As Kyrian did get lucky(?), he went straight to Imperial Intelligence training instead. Which starts with it’s own version of basic training and then gets into Intelligence specific stuff. Whether that’s learning new things or unlearning some of the propaganda because you’re going to be a field agent and actually have to function outside of the Empire. (Which works best if you have some idea what that’s actually like. Though, the war and the years since the Treaty of Coruscant have made the Empire’s propaganda a bit less solid. Propaganda works best in a sealed world. The more interaction with outside there is, the more it takes to varying degrees instead of to a more consistent one.)

The only real adjustment to Imperial Intelligence I made, and I’m not sure if it even is because of how vague things are in both the game and the encyclopedia, is moving the most…er…questionable parts of field agent training to cipher training, specifically. It keeps what cipher agents are capable of nicely mysterious and saves me from trying to figure out how in blazes Kyrian could’ve sat through classes – or, worse, demonstrations – on How to Torture People, or the like.

(Then again, regular field agent training still includes experiencing some common methods of torture, because the imagination is worse (theoretically), and modern medicine will fix you right up. And if there’s a subtext of “and you can do this to other people,” Kyrian would either miss it, or notice and disregard it because pain is bad and like hell he’s doing that to anyone.)

In any event, field agents dangerous, cipher agents extra dangerous and something most, if not all, field agents aspire to be some day. Because they are the elite of Imperial Intelligence and capable of holothriller-level amazing things. Even if ordinary field agents aren’t entirely sure what those things are, except by rumor. And holothrillers.

And if that makes the Empire sound too nice, don’t forget it has slavery, and is run by Sith, and questioning the government could cause you to disappear and never be seen again.

[depizan]

A post on What You Are In the Dark moments went by, and my random brain decided to wonder what my characters moments have been, or if they’ve even had any.

I suppose it boils down to what exactly one considers a What You Are in the Dark moment. Does it have to be a temptation refused? Is it any act of heroism (or decision not to make such act) that is unviewed by others? Is it any unviewed choice between what is right and what the character wants? What if there’s more than one definition of “right��?

Kyrian spent his career making unviewed choices between what he felt was right and what was easy/what he’d been ordered to do, but that’s almost an inverse of the What You Are in the Dark trope. He went with what he wanted, but what he wanted was to help people. It was his orders that were bad. (I mean, obviously, from the Imperial standpoint, he failed What You Are in the Dark: what he was was a traitor.)

There are certainly several times in fic when Kyrian chooses to do the right thing - if we consider helping people and saving them from harm to be “the right thing” - when no one would have known if he hadn’t. Kelara Sakoal having the approximate wisdom of a turnip was not, in any way, his responsibility. He didn’t have to make sure she stayed saved. No one would’ve been the wiser if he’d just accepted his “thank you for not killing me” money and left her to her fate. (Of course, a good Imperial would’ve arrested her and her husband for letting secrets fall into the wrong hands. But Kyrian was never a very good Imperial.)

When he saved Jezari from Imperial custody, again, no one would’ve known if he hadn’t. She wasn’t aware he was even on Tatooine until he released her from her cell. Nor would she have expected him to help her if she had seen him in that base. But he saw her, and had to do something. (A good Imperial, of course, would’ve let the base commander know that she did work for the SIS.)

And, when ordered to kill Riada and take his plans for the Empire, Kyrian had already decided the first part was off the table long before he ran into Jezari. Despite having been told to follow his orders to the letter or else. (While a good Imperial wouldn’t even have to be told to follow orders.)

But all of those are choices between what Kyrian felt was right and what was easy. (Or what he should have felt was right.) In as much as there was temptation, the temptation was to do the right thing, and he did it.

Jezari... Jezari has spent very little time alone. Any opportunity to be tempted unseen would have to have come after she and Savler parted ways and before she picked up Corso, and then the rest of her crew.

I suppose no one would have known if she hadn’t saved Kyrian when she first met him, but that��s even more of what’s right vs. what’s easy. She couldn’t justify leaving a weirdly polite Imperial in trouble.

Maaaaybe you could count her not giving Kyrian any of Riada’s plans a What You Are in the Dark, except that lots of people would’ve known, including Riada. It’s not like she could exactly distract him and snatch a page of research off him. (But she did really want to send Kyrian back with something, if she had to send him back at all. Then again, her main temptation was forcibly defecting him. Which, again, lots of people would very definitely have been aware of. Still, she did chose to do what she thought was morally right - whether that’s not give anything to the Empire or not make decisions for your friends, no matter how much of an idiot they are - and not what she wanted to do. It’s just seriously missing the “in the dark” part.)

Though Savler super flunked the What You Are in the Dark test in that same fic, at least if you allow for someone intentionally keeping someone from knowing about your actions. Though she did what she did at least as much out of a desire to protect Jezari as a desire to get paid. Still, you’d be hard pressed to argue that trying to secretly take Kyrian in as a bounty was “the right thing to do” and not “what she wanted to do.” The moment Jezari wasn’t literally watching her, she opted for what she wanted, at least when it was handed to her on a silver platter. (The whole giving into temptation thing was definitely present.)

... You know, I think my characters spend a lot more time facing choices between different things that could be defined as “right” than they do choosing between what’s right and what they want. Kyrian spent his career choosing the small, immediate good over what might be big picture good for the Empire. Jezari gets stuck with choices between things that both matter to her - working for bad people to keep food on the table, balancing friendships against her job/loyalty to the SIS/Republic, or even friendships against each other. (Conflicts of Interest would’ve been a tragedy if Kyrian were a different kind of person.) Even Savler, who rejects many concerns about “rightness,” found herself - or so she thought - having to betray Jezari in order to protect her.

Maybe I’m more of a believer in conflicting desires than I am a believer in good vs. temptation. The trope, as normally worded, does kind of suggest that heroism/doing the right thing isn’t a desire, even while acknowledging that one reason people opt to do the right thing is that they’d have to live with themselves afterward if they didn’t. IDK.

[depizan]

@pyr0clast has been sorting characters according to the Sorting Hat Chats elaborated, er, Sorting Hat sorting.

I did my main three characters last night here, and now here is everyone else.

Ianya: double burned Gryffindor – modeling Ravenclaw Primary, or trying to

She did the right thing, she made the right choice, and all it got her was pain. She chose the Order, she chose the war, and the war was lost and so was her family. All she has to cling to is being a Jedi. She can pretend to be what she should be, but the problem is she doesn’t have the faith she’d need for rebuilding herself that way to work. It’s more that she can’t throw the Jedi away, not after she lost everything because she thought it was the right choice.

Since her secondary is burned as well, any method will do. But I’m pretty sure it was also Gryffindor.

Novani: Ravenclaw Primary/Gryffindor Secondary – trying to model Ravenclaw Secondary

Novani cares deeply about doing what’s right and good, but she doesn’t instinctively know what that is. She spends quite a lot of time trying to make all of the things she believes a good person should be and do fit together properly with what she believes a good Jedi should be and do. And feeling like it should all fit together much better than she can get it to.

She wants to act with careful reasoned thought but she keeps finding herself doing things that aren’t carefully reasoned at all.

 Daska: Gryffindor Primary/Slytherin Secondary – performing…evil Hufflepuff Primary/Gryffindor Secondary? (people are the Empire, hit everyone else with a lightsaber)

She believes in the rightness of her morals and her interpretation of the Sith Code, despite being surrounded by people who have a very different interpretation and very different morality. She wants to fix the Empire, even if she has some doubts about whether that’s possible, and in the meantime she’s going to do what she can to help people – even if it’s in the guise of being a terrifying Sith. She wants very much to find her sister and mother, but unlike her sister, there are things she won’t do to accomplish that.

She’s comfortable with wearing the mask of a useful but not dangerously ambitious Sith and comfortable solving problems in ways that look direct but aren’t, because what’s on the surface is a sham. (No one asks why a prisoner claimed by a Sith is never seen again, for example.)

 Lysara: (situationally petrified) Slytherin Primary – modeling Ravenclaw and performing evil Ravenclaw/secondary burned…probably Hufflepuff

Lysara cares for herself and her family and would do anything to have her sister and mother back, but she also has a constructed morality around a combination of vengeance and not wanting what happened to her family to happen to others. She’s built a morality of caring for other people on a foundation of hatred. She’ll help random Republic people because she wants the Empire to burn. She’ll help slaves or the downtrodden because she was once a slave and because she wants those who enslave or tread on others to burn.

She cannot let anyone into her inner circle as long as the people around her are all Sith and/or Imperials. She simply can’t take the risk of trusting anyone enough to come to care about them. If she can manage to find her sister and mother and get the hell out of the Empire, she could risk expanding her circle beyond her family. Until then, she’s going to pretend to be a good Sith, sabotage the fuck out of the Empire wherever she can, and hunt for her family.

Her secondary is so burned it’s very difficult to figure out what it was, but her illogical irritation with people who are incompetent or lazy makes me think it was probably Hufflepuff. (She should be glad when Imperials/Sith are incompetent and lazy, since it’s bad for the Empire, but it just irks her, damn it.)

 Tevin: Gryffindor Primary/Hufflepuff Secondary

His morals line up closely enough with the stated morals of the Republic that I briefly considered Ravenclaw for him, but the Republic not actually living up to its morals hasn’t shaken his attachment to those morals or prompted any rethinking.

He could be a double Gryffindor modeling Hufflepuf Secondary but he isn’t really a charger and there’s something that just seems very Hufflepuffy about his leadership. He’s more of a dedicated hard worker who kind of accidentally ended up in a leadership position, and that works more because his teammates feel like part of the team than because they’re following him.

 Bonus extras! Novani’s Jedi Master and the main trio’s villain!

Master Cereb: Gryffindor Primary/Slytherin Secondary – modeling Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff

He has an instinctive internal moral certainty his Padawan lacks, and when push came to shove he would go with what felt right. But he’s Ravenclaw enough to be very good at helping her (and other people) think through moral quandaries in a reasoned, logical way. (Though he has a tendency to encourage morality that matches his own.)

He’s good at and comfortable with fitting in wherever he needs to be and is most comfortable going at things in a quiet and indirect way. He is the ideal Jedi, the comforting master, the cunning spy, the clever detective, the brave rescuer…and while all of those things are true, they aren’t true at the depth they would be if he were actually Hufflepuff secondary.

 Lord Dralick: Double Ravenclaw

His values are selfish and self-serving, but there’s something very thoughtful about them. He’s embraced the general morality of the Sith, but adjusted it in places based on observation and evidence, not just what’s easiest.  (His decent pay and treatment of his employees is evidence for this. He doesn’t feel the need to lead through pure fear just because it’s the done thing. In fact, it would be wrong to pretend fear is the best motivator of loyalty when it clearly isn’t.) He’s also someone more likely to be swayed by reason than emotion. (Not very Sithy there, I suppose.)

And sure, that all sounds like it could be Slytherin, but there’s nothing loyalty based about his values. He wasn’t morally outraged by discovering Kyrian was a traitor; he isn’t loyal to the Empire, himself. And, while he was decidedly irritated that these annoying people kept wrecking his shit and occasionally killing his people, there was no Slytheriny outrage at that. He also has an observational reaction to things that a more instinct based house might not – he didn’t just immediately go after the group again at the end of Conflicts of Interest, he was content to build a case against Kyrian and file away that Savler might have been party to what happened.

(Villains are harder to sort. And not just because I don’t spend a lot of time playing “how does Lord Dralick think?”)

[depizan]

15 Day SWTOR OC Challenge, Day Eleven

Set One: Main Ficverse Trio

11. Canon divergence. Are there parts of their story that don’t line up with in-game information? Why? Where?

Jezari Solarin

I suspect she’s a bit older than the game expected the Smuggler to be, as she’s 30 when the events of the prologue begin.

In fic, I ran with the game’s wackiness of having the SIS periodically hire the player character to do jobs that seem like they should be being done by an actual SIS agent and not some random criminal, and made her a kind of unofficial agent of the SIS. An SIS agent hired her as transportation off planet, got themselves in trouble, and, when her passenger didn’t show, she went and rescued them. This got her more SIS transportation business, which branched out into more and more SIS agent type missions. To the point that the SIS would like to officially recruit her (despite her not actually being a Republic citizen…possibly…or possibly she is by way of her mother...she doesn’t know). So far, she keeps saying “no,” though.

I’ve done some minor tweaking of the prologue and chapter one of the Smuggler story, but, for the most part those are fic canon for her. It’s after that that everything takes a left turn at Albuquerque, as it were. (Okay, I have her prologue and chapter one stuff happening before everyone else’s, so that’s a bit of a shift too.)

In any event, shortly after the end of in-game Chapter One, Jezari, on a mission for the SIS, meets Kyrian (who was on a mission for Intelligence), rescues him, contemplates selling him to the SIS, and ends up working with him to rescue some people and trash a Sith Lord’s mad science lab. They continue running into each other, and eventually she rescues him from a fate worse than and including death (see his entry).

Besides the addition of a very weird Imperial into her story (not to mention her nearly life-long friendship with Savler), basically none of the rest of the Smuggler story is canon for her. Bits of it will probably end up being. I think I’m going to do something with Darmas Pollaran, for instance. But the story just doesn’t hold together that well, and it really doesn’t hold together for someone who’s actively working with the SIS. (And the Voidwolf just annoys me, so he’s definitely Grand Admiral Not Appearing In This Fic.)

Aori Savler

She’s definitely older than the game expected the Bounty Hunter to be as she is also 30 when the events of the prologue begin. (She’s a year younger than Jezari, but with Jezari’s story being off-set…)

She also has a family, and a best friend who’s a smuggler. And she works for/in the Republic as well as the Empire and independent space.

While I like the general outline of the Bounty Hunter stuff, there are a lot of places where I feel like the story either falls apart a bit or relies on a much more reckless or somewhat dimmer character than Savler is. There are choices she simply wouldn’t make, not so much because of morality, but because they’re incredibly unwise.

So, for the most part her career involves something akin to the canon story (at least Chapter One thereof), but not exactly the canon story. There’s a Great Hunt, and Braden hires her onto the team, and she meets Mako…and Tarro Blood is a murderous, cowardly, cheating asshole. She and Mako compete in the Great Hunt, and Blood will eventually be reduced to a messy smear of his namesake, but the targets and events are not necessarily the ones from the game.

And, of course, she’s also got a best friend to keep out of trouble. Or rescue from trouble. (She definitely made sure that Risha and Bowdaar have her personal comm number.)

Kyrian Nessar

Kyrian is every bit the young, fresh out of training agent the game intends. The problem is, even sticking purely to the game’s allowed light side options, he’s far too nice for his job. Not to mention going for a bit of a wade in the treason pool. Add in his fic shenanigans with Jezari and the fact that the Empire is not stupid (particularly not Imperial Intelligence) and his career had the approximate lifespan of a mayfly. And so, nearly, did he.

That brief career included events that approximate the Agent story from prologue through Tatooine, just with even more people left alive than the game allows. (Or alive for different reasons. In fic canon, he simply didn’t arrive at Watcher X’s hanger in time. Traffic was terrible. Most unfortunate. (He had neither desire for Watcher X’s bribe nor desire to recapture him.))

And in fic, he not only rescues Jezari from the Empire at one point, but helps her save someone he’s been given explicit orders to kill. When the Sith Lord they kept tangling with decided to take a close look at Kyrian’s career, there were no shortage of treasonous actions to uncover.

And so his incredibly short career ended with his arrest for treason and near horrible lengthy execution by Sith.

Jezari saved him before anything permanent…well… much permanent, anyway…happened to him. And he became a member of her crew. (Which is about as off from the game story as you can get!)

[depizan]

Actual years ago, I wrote this, in which Kyrian saves Jezari from Imperial custody. Kind of the real beginning of their friendship, after they met in The Enemy of My Enemy Is...? I’d always meant to go back and write a second half to it, but I had trouble working out exactly how their conversation would go.

I finally wrote that second half.

Jezari hadn’t expected him to actually wait for her. The cantina was frequented by off-duty Republic troops and the moisture farmers, prospectors, and criminals who made up the rest of the trading outpost’s population all had plenty of reason not to like Imperials. The Republic was trying to win over the locals by offering aid; the Empire had skipped straight to annexing chunks of land – whether or not they were already occupied.

But when she returned to the main room, Kyrian was leaning against the bar, chatting with the bartender – who was of some four-armed reptilian species Jezari couldn’t place.

Kyrian straightened at her approach. “How are you doing?” He asked in a passable Republic accent. He even sounded concerned.

“What… Why… Damn it.” Jezari rubbed her forehead. Maybe it was all a bad case of heat stroke and she was wandering the dunes hallucinating. Imperial Intelligence agents – even really weird ones – didn’t rescue people from the Empire. That just didn’t happen. Except it had.

And it seemed just as impossible now as it had before she’d cleaned up and koltoed her bruises. Either the whole thing was part of some clever plan, or…

“Jezari?”

“Ngh.” She turned to the bartender. “We need someplace private. To talk.”

“Of course.” They held out a scaly hand. “Meeting room, forty credits.”

.

A corner of the cantina’s storeroom hardly qualified as a meeting room, but it was private. At least more private than the main room. Jezari waited until the bartender was likely out of earshot.

“Why?” She asked.

He looked down at the sandy floor and at the haphazard stacks of crates before answering. “I saw them bring you in,” he said at last. “I had to do something.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t.” He sighed. “I might have done the same for anyone. I…I don’t agree with the way the Empire treats prisoners. And you’re a friend.”

She stared at him.

“You could be a friend.”

One of them had definitely been standing in the Tatooine sun for too long. “You know I sometimes work for the SIS.”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t,” she added. “It was just a smuggling job.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You rescued me knowing I could’ve been working for the SIS.” She was going to shake him until he made sense. Worse, she thought he was starting to make sense. It was the heat. It had to be.

There was no secret plan, no trick that explained his actions, only the same weird honesty he’d shown before. The same honesty that had prompted her to make a deal with him in the first place, and to stick to that deal and let him go, no matter how much Risha later complained about the lost credits.

He was impossible. And probably barely older than Corso. And he’d risked his life to save her.

“What are you going to do now?” She asked.

“I’ll return to the base and sound shocked and sympathetic when Major Desin tells me he’s lost his prisoner. If he tells me.” He looked uncomfortable. “I imagine he’ll be relieved when Kaliyo and I move on. No one else at the base would be likely to report the incident.”

“You don’t think he might try to get rid of you?”

Kyrian laughed. “The Empire isn’t a crime syndicate. He’ll bury it all in the files and move on. He has no reason to blame me, and he knows I’m here for something far more important. Nothing related to the Republic,” he added hastily.

“If somebody saw you, or your ‘brownout’ missed a camera somewhere…”

“I am a professional.” His smile faded. “Are you all right? Really?”

She shrugged. “Hey, you got me out of there before anything happened.” She wasn’t going to think about what could have happened, or how badly she’d bruised her wrists in her desperate attempt to get the binders off and maybe escape. She’d nearly brained him when he’d opened her cell – she’d been in too much of a panic to even recognize him.

“I’m sorry.”

“You saved me, okay. That’s what matters.” She gave him a gentle push. “Guess I owe you now.”

His smile was still tinged with concern. “Be careful dealing with the Empire.”

She snorted. “You’re gonna go back and act like nothing happened and you’re telling me to be careful?”

“I… All right, I’ll be careful, too.”

[depizan]

30 Day Character Challenge (the one I reblogged here), day twenty-five. 

Part 5: What If

If your character is a sci fi character, what would they be like in a fantasy setting? If they’re fantasy, what would they be like in a sci fi setting? If they’re in a realistic setting, pick one or the other.

Star Wars kind of straddles those definitions, as it has some pretty strongly fantasy elements despite its sci-fi setting. Of course it also has elements of westerns and makes at least visual references to World War II movies and in general is one of the most genre blendy franchises I can think of outside of anime/manga. Nonetheless, I count it in the big sci-fi umbrella, and the question is mostly concerned about settings, and it very definitely has all the trappings of sci-fi.

That said, I’m not sure how much things change if you switch out tall ships for starships and actual wizards for Jedi and the like. Fantasy and sci-fi - at least the adventurous versions thereof - share a whole ton of the same tropes even when you’re not dealing with something that’s half fantasy already.

Kyrian

Spy...agent...whatever you’d call the job in a fantasy world for the evil empire run by wizards. So it’d be songs and bardic tales rather than holothrillers that made him think the job would be awesome, and his marksmanship would be with a bow (or crossbow depending on exactly the era the fantasy was going for) rather than a blaster, but otherwise there’d be little difference. Same ethical dilemmas, same desire for a world at peace, same inability to do his job right, same eventual doomedness.

If one wanted to up the angst factor, he could’ve been recruited from the traditional fantasy sucky orphanage or even the streets, giving him a slightly different reason to start out with some loyalty to the evil empire of evil. (Especially given that fantasy evil empires of evil can be even less subtle than the Sith Empire.)

Jezari

Again, not too different - captain of a fast sailing ship, working unofficially for the crown of the good kingdom (or republic or whatever). Loyal crew. Smuggling - or piratical - background. Secretly the daughter of one of the kingdom’s supposedly celibate warrior-priest-wizard-thingies. Soft spot for people in trouble, good at rescues, afraid of the evil wizards of evil. Of some near-human species that’s probably really some kind of divergent human, not that a fantasy world has the genetic knowledge to work that out.

Given the slightly different tropes, dad was probably a pirate captain, done in by his treacherous first mate. (Who was then later done in by Jezari in a duel.) Again, given the slightly different tropes, she probably retrieved her father’s - now her - ship at the same time as she skewered her father’s killer.

I kinda answered this a little when @anecdotesandelderthings prompted me to write the start of a traditional fantasy with Jezari as the hero.

Savler

Okay, so bounty hunters aren’t really a fantasy thing - despite prices on people’s heads turning up in fantasy - but mercenaries are, so she’d be a sword for hire. Definitely hailing from whatever is that world’s piratelandia, where her family does basically the fantasy equivalent of what they do. And in a fantasy novel, she’d get a cool maybe-bad-guy eyepatch. (Of course, this would not in any way affect her fighting skills because it never does.)

In a fantasy world, she’d probably pretty much be working for various nobles, since they have the money. Which might well make her activities grayer regardless of which country’s nobles are involved.

And I suppose in a fantasy world, Mako would have magical talents in place of her technical ones, making her some variety of unlicensed - rogue - whatever wizard. (Unless instead of growing up on the streets, she climbed out the window of the wizard school dorms and ran away for a life of adventure. Though that would just be a different sort of rogue wizard situation.)

In a truly traditional fantasy, they’d be the impossible people mentioned in some prophesy about saving the world, and probably not quite work out the fact until after the world was saved.

(Terrifyingly, I could fantasy them and no one would ever know they were escaped star wars fanfic characters. O_o)

[depizan]

Writer meme: 5. Did you make an outline for Kyrian's story? And 10. What are some facts readers may not know about Kyrian's story?

5. There are no outlines, there is only chaos! And making it up as I go along!

*hem* Seriously, though, that’s probably as close as I’ve come to planning something out. At least assuming that by Kyrian’s story, you mean his arc in becoming Jezari’s friend and later member of her crew. I don’t think I’d even finished their first fic before I realized that what Kyrian was doing was inherently non-sustainable. The Empire is not stupid; at some point, someone was going to notice.

(And the game’s insistence that, no, really, the Empire is stupid and no one will ever notice, no matter how treasonous one’s Light Side choices become just irked me.)

So I decided I’d write another fic or two to establish them being good enough friends for her to rescue him and then, well, someone would notice. Because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to get him to run away like a sensible person.

10. I had considered writing another fic in between Conflicts of Interest and Consequences in which Jezari was tasked with helping someone defect from the Empire and Kyrian helpfully, er, helped her with that. Much as I liked the idea, I realized 90% of the dialogue would be variations on “Defect, damn it.” “No. I know what I’m doing.” “Argh!” Which would get old quick. And I neither wanted to end with her forcibly defecting him nor leave it so that the audience might blame her for not doing so, considering what I did have planned.

And, by the time I got to the end of Conflicts of Interest, I realized that the someone noticing pieces were too thoroughly in place. Their solution to the central conflict left the villain with just a bit too much to investigate. (And I’d made it clear, however much Keeper and Watcher Two might cut Kyrian some slack, there were others in Intelligence who would be more than happy to see him gone.) So I scrapped the idea and just went straight into Consequences.

(Though I would still like to write a fic in which the crew of the Luck helps someone defect. It’d be exciting in different ways now!)

[depizan]

In which I whine about writing. Or not writing. In any event, there is a lot of whining.

One of the reasons I gave up writing, before the whole writing fanfic thing, was that real life sucks (and little did I know it was going to get astronomically worse, so sorry circa 2001 me) and I couldn’t work out writing adventure fiction in a world where things in reality were made of suck. (I had earlier foolishly given up writing space adventure in favor of writing mystery adventure because someone in a creative writing class pointed out my stories could be told in “reality” just as easily. The sci-fi trappings, they noted, were pointless.)

I couldn’t ignore the problems of the world, I couldn’t address them in my writing, and I couldn’t go back to writing space adventure because worldbuilding was too fraught, so... no writing. (And right after I’d gotten a short story published, too.)

Ten years later, SWTOR happened and I found myself compelled to write (ironically because in game there was much made of suck). And, since the world building wasn’t mine, I didn’t feel guilty about it. Win!

But then the real world got even worse (please stop doing that, reality!), and both fictional Evil Empires and fictional Democracies With Issues became hard to face. At what point do either Evil Empires or Flawed Democracies start giving support to horrible people in real life? Is it okay to have a hero who comes from an Evil Empire when real people are marching to Nazi ideology and with Nazi salutes? How do you write in a fictional Flawed Democracy when the police in your real life flawed democracy seem to be killing people (especially minorities, especially Black people) with impunity? (To name but one real world problem.) How can fiction be escapism when the real life parallels cut far too close?

I know, I know, it’s fanfic, hardly any one reads it, it’s not important, so I can do whatever I want. If only it worked that way.

I wanted to write the A-Team In Space, making a difference for that one (to utterly mix my metaphors, or similies, or whatever), optimistic adventure fiction as an antidote to my own real-life pessimism. (Wherein I fully expect the starfish to be immediately eaten by...whatever eats starfish...because that’s how the world works. No, I don’t have mental problems. Why? (I do. I seriously do.)) But everything is made of terrible, I don’t know how to deal with awful real world parallels, and I oh so foolishly let Reality Ensue.

Every idea for fic that I think of is too dark or depressing or feels like apologism for real world terrible or feels like easy fixes for real world terrible. But I need fiction. I need the unreality of lighthearted adventure positing a world where the starfish don’t get eaten. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep getting up in the morning without it. (Yes, yes, I know, I need drugs. I’m working on that.) 

I feel like a bad person for liking Kyrian best. (I feel like a bad person for having created him in the first place.) I feel like a bad person for having heroes who are criminals and a spy for an evil empire. If I try to write fic that addresses any of the Republic’s problems, I feel like a bad person for writing things that make light of real problems. Then again, most adventure fiction tropes are made of terrible anyway. The world is better off without it. Anything else is just my selfishness talking.

But sometimes, you know, I just want to say Fuck Everything, be a bad person, and do what makes me happy. Sadly, guilt.

[depizan]

I’m not sure this doesn’t have some wild tone swing issues, but, eh, I’m tired of poking at it. Have another ficlet post Kyrian’s rescue. Though this one ended up kind of long.

(Oh, yes, and note for mentions of healed hand injury.)

Kyrian nearly cleared the targets before letting Corso into the hold, but the prospect of explaining – or trying to explain – why had stopped him and the results of the afternoon’s practice remained. His accuracy wasn’t that great by Imperial Intelligence standards, but it was passable. Even good, at least for the bit of time between when he adjusted to the unfamiliar blaster and his hand had started to hurt.

He couldn’t decide if he should have been relieved or disappointed.

“Feels good, don’t it!” Corso clapped him cheerfully on the shoulder. “Hey, next time we’re planetside, we gotta get you a blaster. Don’t mind lending you Sparky, but a man should have his own, you know. Somethin’ right for you.”

Kyrian nodded. He would have to figure out how to fight with his damaged hand as well. He’d put both off for too long already. It wasn’t fair to Jezari, or to the rest of the crew.

“Thought about what you want?” Corso bent to unclamp the nearest target. “A pistol? A rifle? What was that you had? Imperial model? Man, you shoot like this now, you must’ve been amazing.” His face froze. “You’ll be again soon! Just gotta have practice, and the right blaster. Back to normal in no time. Be nice to have somebody to practice with. Nothin’ like a little friendly competition.” His smile looked like it hurt.

“You don’t practice with Risha?”

“Uh, well, yeah. But, uh… more competition and…stuff.”

Kyrian released the magnetic clamp on the next target. The effort did nothing for his aching hand. “Where do you store these?”

“Crate in the corner.” Corso waved at a large crate shoved up against the back wall of the hold. “The Captain thinks people might get the wrong idea if they saw ‘em.”

“I can imagine.” The target was just heavy and awkward enough he had to use both hands to carry it. I should have quit after the first twinge. Continuing had proven nothing, except his own foolishness.

“I bet Risha could get ahold of a rifle like you had. She’s got all kinds of connections. Course if you want a pistol, the ALT-25 is about the best there is. Like Torchy. Has a stiffer trigger, though. Something like Sparky there might be better. Or the SoroSuub line for diplomats. But you probably want somethin’ bigger.”

Kyrian leaned on the crate. The target seemed heavier than when he’d first picked it up, as if his strength had drained away while he was carrying it across the hold. It was the stale air, probably. Or his recent lack of exercise.

“Captain’s got a pair of M-300s. I know she’d let you try ‘em. Bet even Risha’d let you give her rifle a try. Custom made job she picked up somewhere, but that don’t mean you can’t get one. The Galactic Arms Annual has some great reviews and rankings. Bet we could find just what you- ”

“I’ll think about it.” The words came out sharper than he’d intended. “I’m sorry, Corso. My hand hurts and…” He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about any of it.

“Oh, hey, I can clean this up. You leave that.” Corso waved at the target. “Go take something. ‘N don’t worry. It’ll get better.”

“Right.” Kyrian forced a smile. “Thank you.” He escaped into the corridor.

The air seemed clearer, less stifling than in the cargo bay. That was impossible, of course; the entire ship used the same air circulating system. He longed irrationally for a meadow, a park, sunlight, fresh air. Even with Kaliyo’s constant need for attention, he didn’t remember feeling so confined on the X-70.

Then again, he hadn’t spent most of his time in his cabin then. Much less a cabin little larger than that ship’s ‘fresher.

What am I doing? Corso was right. He could shoot just fine, be an active member of the crew. Nothing had really changed.

I expect too much. There were no miracles, no easy answers. It was long past time he accepted that.

He found himself in the auxiliary cargo bay more by process of elimination than design. He hadn’t wanted to face his tiny cabin, or more of Corso’s enthusiasm for assorted weaponry. Or perhaps he’d hoped to find Bowdaar there. The Wookiee was good company, even if Kyrian still didn’t understand enough Shyriiwook to properly talk with him.

The small exercise area was unoccupied, the room quiet except for the distant hum of the Luck’s hyperdrive. He’d meant to ask where they were going at lunch – or was it breakfast? – but he’d forgotten. Another job, he supposed. Some illicit good to be transported from one neutral planet to another. They’d been avoiding the Republic nearly as thoroughly as the Empire, for much the same reason.

Fine addition to the crew I am.

Empty shelving ran along three of the irregularly shaped room’s walls. A stack of assorted shipping crates and pallets stood in the corner opposite the exercise area, reaching roughly halfway to the ceiling. The pile was strapped securely to the wall, preventing it from shifting if the gravity emulators failed. The top was perhaps half a meter above Kyrian’s head.

He scrambled awkwardly up the pile, using his right elbow instead of his hand for leverage. There was more than enough room on top to lie down. It was dusty, but peaceful. He was being ridiculous, of course. His own bunk was more comfortable, and just as quiet. He had no more privacy there than he would have had in his own cabin.

The ceiling was a dull gray, faint darker outlines indicating where something had once been attached to it, and where he suspected a wall had been removed. A smear of rust or dried grease stained the ceiling at one corner of the vanished object.

He closed his eyes and imagined a sky above him, deep blue purpling to evening, or dark with roiling clouds, stained a sickly yellow with pollution, a clear and deceptively pretty blue above endless sands. None had held any more truth than the ceiling above him now. He’d made so many mistakes, so many poor choices, all because he was too stubborn, too arrogant to listen to anyone.

He missed the soft whiff of the door opening, but not the approaching footsteps. He sat up. His perch wasn’t tall enough for him to pass unnoticed.

Jezari looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Can I come up?” She asked.

“I… Yes?”

She grabbed the taut retaining strap and climbed up beside him. “Yik.” She wiped her hands on her knees, leaving dusty smears. “So,” she looked at him, “I guess it didn’t go so good.”

“It? Oh. No, no, it went fine. Quite well, really.” He held up his hand, hoping the stiffness didn’t show. “I should even be of some use to you.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? Your hand? Being useful?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been… I don’t know what I’ve been doing. I owe you so much, and all I’ve done is take advantage of-”

“Kyrian.” She gripped his shoulder. “Hey. You don’t owe me anything. Okay? Don’t worry about that.”

“I do owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” She shook him gently. “Seriously. You’re my friend. Nothing owed. Ever.”

He looked down at his hands. He’d folded them left over right, unconsciously protective. A bad habit he’d have to unlearn. Funny he still remembered the lessons of his training, when he’d practiced them so rarely. He laced his fingers together.

“You really don’t owe me. Kyrian? Hey.” She brushed his hair back from his face. “Talk to me.”

“I never seem to learn.” He absently rubbed the scar near the base of his thumb. “You saved my life. More than that. I should… I… I’m still not very good at facing reality.”

“What reality?”

He looked away. “Did I ever tell you I wanted to be an Imperial Intelligence agent? I thought it would be exciting – travel the galaxy, help people, stop evil plots.” He sighed. “I’d seen too many holothrillers. Dashing secret agent saves the galaxy. Even when I knew better, I still tried… wanted…” He shook his head. “I thought if I just kept trying, I could make everything right.”

She put an arm around him, her hand warm on his shoulder.

“I never learned to focus on the mission. On what mattered. I still haven’t. I still find myself wanting to ask the wrong questions. I’m not sure I’ll be of any more use to you than I was to Keeper.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I… I know I’d make the same decisions. I’m not defending the Empire. Or Intelligence. I just…” …haven’t learned.

“What are the wrong questions?”

“Ah. Who are we working for? What are we transporting? What happens if customs discovers it?”

“Yeah, those aren’t really…” She scratched at the dust on one knee. “Well… Hutts are lousy, but it’s hard to avoid them. The rest of the crime syndicates aren’t any better. I won’t haul slaves. Or anything alive. I mostly don’t haul spice. I’ve outflown customs ships. Left a few inspectors stuffed in closets. Not recently. We probably won’t run into them.”

He looked at her.

“I mean, it’s different when I’m running blockades and stuff. But we’ve been sticking to the safe jobs. Nobody’s going to get that excited about some Corellian brandy or ‘rancor’ ribs.”

“And when we take unsafe jobs?”

“I’m hoping you’ll help pick them.”

“My judgement is somewhat questionable,” he reminded her. “I don’t know that much about smuggling.”

“You know what you want to do.”

“Yes.” He wasn’t sure how much overlap there was. Blockade running, perhaps. Planets unwillingly under Imperial control. He swallowed. Perhaps not yet.

“You okay?”

“Yes.” He tried to will the tension away. “I would prefer to avoid the Empire.”

“Nobody’s gonna argue that.” Jezari bit her lip. “You know, the SIS does some internal stuff. It’s not all tangling with the Empire. I don’t know how you feel about the Republic…”

He’d never asked exactly what her relationship with the SIS was. They trusted her with missions, paid her for her efforts – reasonably well, as far as he could tell. But she wasn’t an SIS agent. He wasn’t sure she was even a Republic citizen; there was more than a little of Hutt Space in her speech.

Yet they hired her – and her crew – as if she were an agent.

It was a terrible idea. Even considering it was absurd. He’d never spent time in the Republic, never been briefed on the sort of specifics he would have needed for a mission there. The SIS surely had a file on him. Likely with nearly as much detail as Imperial Intelligence’s.

“Wouldn’t I make that a risk?” He asked at last.

“I wasn’t planning on telling them. They’ve never asked about my crew. They’ve never really asked about me.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’d be riskier than what we’ve been doing. The gangs and syndicates can get nasty. And some of ‘em are probably supplied by the Empire. But Risha keeps muttering about credits, and it wouldn’t be worse than taking better smuggling jobs. It’s up to you.”

His hand still ached. It would take months – at least – to relearn how to fight, especially if he wanted to avoid revealing that weakness. Assuming that was possible. Any lengthy firefight, piloting certain types of speeders, even something as simple as climbing would hurt. It was sensible to make the safest choices, to avoid anything that might rely on him for some time to come.

“I haven’t learned a thing.”

“Pff,” Jezari said. “You’re doing fine. Come on, let’s see what they’ve got for us.”

[depizan]

Anyway, before I got distracted by Gault and his weird plans and legion of enemies, I was trying to work out ficverse version of Smuggler Nar Shaddaa.

Canon has the Smuggler arrive on Nar Shaddaa to trade a rare critter for an experimental starship engine, only to find that Drooga is no longer interested because someone stole his other rare critter. That group, despite being perfectly capable of successfully stealing from a Hutt, has now grasped the Idiot Ball with both hands and one of them has been captured by an evil mad scientist. But the Smuggler manages to get both critters, deal with the mad scientist, and get Drooga to keep his original deal. Meanwhile, Corso has decided to spend the chapter being a speciesist dickbag. And there’s a whole sideplot with Drooga having gotten Bowdaar from a gambler (I have so many questions. So many.) but finds him unsatisfying and, after trying to kill him a couple of times just kind of gives him to the Smuggler.

Problems: 

1. Drooga, as presented in game, seems to be entirely interested in eating things and being entertained. Why does he even have a prototype engine? Did he get that from a gambler, too?

2. You keep fucking up Drooga’s assorted Bowdaar related entertainment, yet this inexplicably does not get you a date with entertaining things with lots of teeth. Or even just tossed off the side of his pleasure barge. Hell, you keep insulting Drooga. To his face. Is Drooga supposed to be the most mellow Hutt ever?

3. I have some issues with Corso’s writing, over all, but nowhere else is he written as this much of an ass. He thinks Bowdaar’s a monster, complains that he smells, and is clearly really unhappy that you let him come with you. He calls Drooga’s majordomo a “blue headed fella” as if he’s never seen a Twi’lek before and bitches about the guy’s accent - saying that he’d call him by name if he just talked right. (?!) He just, out of nowhere, suddenly acts like that relative you hope everyone forgot to invite to the family reunion. Why, writer? WHYYYYYY?

4. The animal rights group people are just painfully dim. Even without getting into the incredible foolishness of accepting help from a scientist who’s been locked up by the Empire for going too far. The Empire. (Yes, okay, they could think he was locked up for not going far enough, but it just comes off like they didn’t stop to think for a nanosecond that maybe they should do a little research before trusting this guy.)

5. How’d the scientist even know about the animal rights group? How does he have hordes of dangerous beasties? How is he doing experiments? Does Shadow Town control anything? The fuck kind of prison is this!? (Granted, my serious questions about Shadow Town are not limited to this story line.)

6. I’m not real thrilled with how the game is comfortable treating the abuse of Bowdaar as just this kind of unimportant side plot. It’s as if the Smuggler would’ve just walked away if Drooga hadn’t randomly freed him.

Lastly (Or fic-specifically): There is no way that Jezari would look at this mess and not go “Screw this, lets just steal the damn thing.” Yes, pissing off Hutts is bad, but Drooga’s a grade A dickbag who changes his mind every five seconds about whether he’s even going to go through with the trade and keeps sicking dangerous animals on an abused Wookiee. Besides, he’s not interested in experimental engines. If you leave the box, it might be years before he’d notice it’s missing.

Honestly, for all that Risha’s about deal making, it’s hard for me to imagine her going to so much trouble to acquire something on the hopes that someone as changeable as Drooga will deal for it. It feels like there’s an at least 50% chance that he’d have changed his mind even if the other critter hadn’t been stolen. And, seriously, this guy has such bad security that a couple of socialites could burgle his animal pens. (Yeah, yeah, they had hired help. Who they probably hired from the scum in the first bar they saw on Nar Shaddaa. You can’t tell me they put more effort into that than into checking on mad scientist guy.)

No, this clearly should’ve been a heist. Go in for the engine, come out with the engine and a Wookiee. I’m pretty sure the SW:TOR Encyclopedia lists heists among Risha’s previous crimes. Sure, engines aren’t something you can stick in your pocket and walk off with, but that just means its the kind of heist than involves the repulsorcraft equivalent of a cargo van.

I buy Risha and Jezari sneaking a engine (and a Wookiee) off Drooga’s ever wandering pleasure barge way before I buy a couple of socialites sneaking a huge toothy beast off of it. 

There’s got to be a near constant stream of cargo fliers coming and going from the barge to supply the endless eating, drinking, and general Huttish merriment. Slip in like one of the deliveries, slip out with the goods. Or intercept one of the deliveries and actually make the delivery, and slip out with the goods. Or get on the barge as a guest, burgle the treasury, collect Bowdaar, and sneak out in a delivery speeder. Or steal one.

No need for dim socialites or mad scientists too twisted for the Empire. Just a simple theft. Hell, Bowdaar could’ve pretty much saved himself and just jump in or on the delivery speeder as its leaving. Or about to leave. Or whatever. He’s supposed to be this great fighter and all. You’d think he’d try to escape.

(But then the game can’t really be bothered to work out Bowdaar’s personality or anything. It’s not like he needs to be more than an unbeatable gladiator slave who’s happy you rescued him or anything. *pokes the writers with a stick*)

Oh! They could be making a clean get away with the “delivery” speeder and Jezari sees this Wookiee climbing on the outside of the barge with guards after him, and she swings around so he can jump on while Risha’s facepalming in the passenger seat.

One slight shoot out and ride to the spaceport later and Bowdaar’s signed on as crew and Risha’s mentally adjusting all future plans to take into account the fact that Jezari just cannot mind her own business.

Yeah, I like that. Risha’s got a nice simple plan to get the engine and keep Drooga from ever working out who stole it, or even when it was stolen, and then right at the end, just as they’ve got it pulled off, Jezari goes and interferes in someone else’s escape and now Drooga knows they stole a Wookiee and a prototype engine and damn it they did not need yet another bounty on their heads. A galaxy full of smugglers and Skavak picked Captain I Never Turn Down a Person in Trouble to steal from!

Not sure if I’ll fic it or not, but that works nicely. It keeps Risha as clever, is in character for Jezari, and even lets Bowdaar save himself (mostly) while still giving him a reason to sign on to the crew. And, of course, Corso isn’t weirdly speciesist at (or about) anyone, which makes it perfectly reasonable that he and Bowdaar go on to be the stuff wrecking team as needed for the crew. (And if he needed to learn Shyriiwook because they don’t teach it on Ord Mantel, that just means he can dust off the tapes or whatever Jezari got him and give them to Kyrian later.)

Headcanon solidified.

(And poor Risha and Savler can go drinking together sometime and commiserate over Jezari’s inconvenient quirks.)

[depizan]

15, 27, and 29 for Jezari and Kyrian

15. Is lying to others to gain their approval more important than being genuine and hated? 

Jezari

*confused* What? Why would anybody want to be hated? Wait, does that question assume people would hate me if I didn’t lie to them? What kind of question is that!?

Kyrian

It’s probably more efficient. However, I’ve mostly risked the latter. People dislike being lied to, and they have good reason to hate the Empire. There’s a chance I could earn someone’s trust despite that, but not if I lied to them and they discovered the truth later. That would be a way to gain an enemy, not approval.

(His lies to the Empire, and as part of undercover assignments are a different thing entirely. Those weren’t about approval, they were about staying alive.)

27. How far would you go to achieve a dream or ideal? Does it matter who suffers? Does it matter if you suffer?

Jezari

Uh, if you’re suffering for your dream, something’s gone wrong somewhere. And if you’re making other people suffer, you’re evil. So...uh...not that far.

Kyrian

Too far, and not far enough. Imperial Intelligence was a chance to see the galaxy and help people. I didn’t consider what else it does. Or what I might be asked to do. I didn’t have the courage to save everyone, and I didn’t always make the right choices, particularly early on. I still believed in the Empire, at least partially. That was a mistake.

29. Is genius equal to hard work? Does a genius deserve praise for doing well without effort? Are they above us? 

Jezari

I don’t know. I don’t think I know anybody who doesn’t have to work at what they do. I mean, Savler’s a genius at finding people, and plans, and stuff, but it’s still work. It’s not like she just woke up one day knowing how to track people down.

(And she, herself, can fly circles around most pilots in the galaxy. Which also took effort. But you say genius and she thinks...thinky stuff, not piloting.)

Kyrian

*looks thoughtful* I suppose that comes down to what matters: what was accomplished, or the effort it took to accomplish it. If the accomplishment is what matters, then they’re exactly the same. The genius might simply get there first. If effort is what matters, then a genius would have to accomplish something much greater to have earned the same praise for their efforts.

Realistically, I don’t think it matters.