#meson martinet

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!

A/N: I'm so excited to share this spooky, sexy one-shot sequel to Martyrs and Kings! I've been planning this fic for months, and I hope y'all love it. Quick note: obviously, this fic contains spoilers for M&K; however, it was beta-read by my partner who has not (yet) read the original fic, and they said it worked as a stand-alone story, so if you haven't read M&K yet and don't mind spoilers, read on!

This fic is dedicated to the amazing @clonemedickix in gratitude for all the love and support that you've shown me and so many others in the fandom. Thank you so much for everything you do, and particularly thank you for your feedback on the field medicine. You are a rock star!

One final caveat: I am a horror wimp, but I did my best. Please don't expect Stephen King 💜

Pairing: Post-stasis Kix x OFC Dr. Maree Finnall

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 5k (this just made M&K 10% longer lol)

Warnings and tags: peril; suspense; violence; blood and injury; gore; medical procedures; adult language; SMUT; oral sex; face-sitting; Kix activating my competence kink like no other. IMPORTANT: an additional content warning is listed at the end of the fic due to spoilers. If you have triggers, please check the end of the fic for the BOLD PINK TEXT before reading.

Summary: The crew of the Meson Martinet goes after the score of a lifetime and discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew.

Suggested listening:

Martyrs and Kings chapter 1 | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“B1.5-series battle droids are a myth,” Kix said firmly. “You’re wasting your time.”

“The good doctor doesn’t share your opinion,” Quiggold argued.

Sidon Ithano, as usual, said nothing, his crimson helmet swiveling slowly toward Maree. Kix turned to her as well, his jaw set, his eyes full of confidence that she would back him up. Kriff it. She absolutely hated being caught in the middle of this argument.

She cleared her throat. “There’s… some debate in the academic community about their existence, actually. If they ever were created, they were never deployed at any recorded battle—and it’s a good thing, too.”

“Why is that, exactly?” Reeg Brosna asked.

He was sprawled on the bench of the dinette, his arm draped around Orys Brenko as the research assistant perked up immediately.

“Is it true that they used nanodroids to retrofit original B1-series droids?” Brenko asked, his face flushing dark green with excitement.

“That is one theory,” Maree said circumspectly, keenly aware of Kix’s scrutiny. “According to contemporary sources—and noting that those sources are unreliable at best—the B1.5s had significantly upgraded blaster resistance. There was another rumor as well, even less credible.”

“What rumor?” Reveth interrupted, leaning forward over the table, drawing Ithano’s attention subtly.

“They said the B1.5s could keep going even if you blasted their processors,” Kix cut in before Maree could reply. “It was a stupid story the commandos made up to scare the shinies.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Brosna asked. “Indestructible battle droids? They’d be worth a fortune.”

“Even if they don’t exist, the haul from a Techno Union stronghold could set us up for life,” Reveth pointed out. “I say we go after it.”

Squeaky grunted his agreement, predictably. The Gamorrean was always guaranteed to follow the pretty Twi’lek’s lead. Reveth could have suggested a nude spacewalk, and Squeaky would have thought it was a grand idea. Brosna and Brenko voted in favor as well. Kix voted against, and Maree did as well, purely out of solidarity. Privately, she was consumed with curiosity about the B1.5s, and she couldn’t deny that the possibility of such a groundbreaking discovery was alluring in the extreme.

Quiggold voted in favor, and Ithano abstained, and so it was decided: the crew would send a team to scout the Techno Union stronghold, and if they found anything worthwhile, the rest of Ithano’s small fleet would join them.

“We’re gonna need your expertise, Doc,” Reveth said to Maree. 

“Absolutely not,” Kix snapped.

Maree glanced at him in surprise. It was unlike him to try to overrule her choice, and she didn’t care for it. “Reveth is right, Kix. I’ll be able to identify the highest-value items, and I have a good idea of what’s in demand.”

Kix looked away, clearly unhappy, but recognizing that he’d overstepped. “Fine. But if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

“We’ll need you to stay and command the fleet from the Scorpion while the captain is away,” Quiggold interjected.

“Fuck that,” Kix growled. “Brosna is my first mate—he can take command from the Scorpion. When it comes to Maree’s safety, I outrank everyone on this ship.”

“Brosna doesn’t have the experience—” Quiggold began.

“Agreed,” Ithano said, his deep voice cutting through the buzz of conversation and debate in the Martinet’s galley. “Quiggold, command the fleet from the Martinet. Brosna, take the Scorpion. Reveth, Squeaky, you’re with us.”

The captain’s decision was final, and within a few hours, Kix, Maree, Reveth, Squeaky, and Ithano had boarded the Scorpion’s shuttle Stinger and departed for the desolate moon where the Techno Union base had sat untouched for over fifty years.

“Fifty credits says we find nothing,” Kix said.

“I’ll take that bet,” Reveth replied.

Squeaky grunted his agreement. Ithano said nothing.

“Maree, you want in on this action?” Reveth asked.

“Kix and I have a private bet on the side,” Maree said with a mischievous twinkle as Kix shot her an inscrutable look.

Reveth smirked. “Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” Maree replied. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of crimson as Ithano moved through the shuttle. On impulse, she leaned in and whispered in Reveth’s ear cone.

Reveth’s eyes widened as her mechanical hand instinctively settled on Maree’s waist. “Damn. You and Kix want a third for that?”

Ithano’s helmet whipped to the side as he suddenly became very interested in the conversation. Maree suppressed a laugh.

“What do you think, Kix?” Maree asked with faux innocence. “Can Reveth play with us?”

Kix eyed her with a perfectly neutral expression that warned Maree he knew exactly what she was up to. “You gotta win that bet if you want to call the shots.”

“You’re on,” Maree replied immediately.

Ithano’s helmet swiveled from Maree, to Reveth, to Kix, and back to Reveth, but he said nothing. Kix merely turned back to the navigation controls and continued to pilot the shuttle toward their destination.

The old Techno Union stronghold was on a remote, swampy moon, and the dense vegetation had grown thickly over the past five decades. Kix was forced to set the shuttle down several klicks from the decrepit base. He didn’t like it. He didn’t kriffing like any of this. It was too far; they’d be too exposed; their progress would be too slow in the mud. He glanced at Maree and felt his anxiety spike.

How the kark am I supposed to protect her out there?

He double-checked her gear as she suited up, adjusting the fit of her holster for a quicker draw. He quickly inspected her blaster before handing it to her.

“What’s going on?” she asked quietly. “You’re on edge.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a good feeling about this mission.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve gone into one of these old strongholds,” she pointed out. “We’ll be okay.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. Just… Keep your eyes open.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I know you’ll watch my back. Just like I’ll watch yours.”

He traced his fingertips along her jaw as he pulled her closer to himself. He couldn’t feel her soft warmth through his armor, but her nearness felt comforting regardless. He kissed her gently, threading his fingers through the hair that she wore in loose braids. 

She looked so different now than she had the first time he’d met her two years earlier; her elegant wardrobe replaced with sturdy, practical clothing meant to withstand rough field work and the occasional blaster fight. But underneath, she still smelled like tea and honey and home. She was still the same—still his Maree.

“If you’re finished sucking the lips off her face, can we get going?” Reveth teased. “Droids aren’t gonna find themselves.”

Despite Kix’s misgivings, the trek to the derelict base was uneventful. Squeaky stayed with the shuttle in case they needed a quick extraction, while Ithano, Reveth, and Maree hacked their way through the underbrush along with Kix. It was slow going, and the swamp was creepy as hell, but eventually they made it to the plastcrete and durasteel structure.

There was no power to the base, so they cut their way through the sealed exterior blast doors. Once inside, the group fell silent as they made their way through the dusty, cobwebbed hallways. The base was pitch black inside, illuminated only by their own torches, and once again, Kix felt the simmering anxiety in his gut begin to roil.

“Something’s been living in here,” Reveth muttered, training the beam of her flashlight on a tangle of debris that was unmistakably a nest for something… large.

Kix didn’t respond, but he reached out and pulled Maree closer to himself, then drew one of his DC-17s. Ithano brought up the rear, his blaster rifle ready.

“Control center should be just ahead,” Maree whispered. “Reveth might be able to restore power from there.”

“We’ll be karked if she can’t,” Kix replied quietly.

“Happy thoughts, Kix,” Maree murmured.

Right. Happy thoughts. Spiced biscuits. Unlimited bacta. Maree’s tits. More credits than I’ve ever seen in my life. The Scorpion. Weapons caches. Maree’s thighs. Maree’s thighs on my shoulders. Maree’s thighs framing my face while she rides—uh, weapons caches.

“Control center,” Reveth called under her breath as she reached a sealed doorway.

They pried it open enough to squeeze through. Kix went first, sweeping his light across the room as he scanned for threats. Reveth followed, then Maree and Ithano. Reveth headed straight for the control console and plugged in her small power unit and began to fiddle with the controls.

“Happy thoughts,” Kix mumbled, returning to the doorway to keep watch over the pitch-dark corridor.

Within a few moments, Reveth let out a quiet, triumphant huff as the control console flickered to life, dimly illuminating the room. She went to work immediately, interfacing her datapad with the ancient console.

“Damn. Main power cells are depleted,” she said. “I’ll try to at least get emergency lighting turned on.”

“Why would the power be depleted if the base has been abandoned for decades?” Maree asked. “The Techno Union had extraordinarily advanced power cells that were capable of storing energy far longer.”

“Unless something used it,” Reveth said.

Kix swiveled his head to stare at the Twi’lek.

“Like what?” he bit out.

She shrugged. “Dunno. But we might find out as soon as I get the data decrypted.”

A distant, deep hum sounded, and red light flickered on throughout the base.

“Nicely done,” Maree told Reveth.

“Let’s get the data and get the kriff out of here,” Kix growled, hating every minute of their time in the farking spooky base.

“Working on it,” Reveth snapped. “Think you can do it faster?”

Ithano glanced between Kix and Reveth, then moved to join Kix at the doorway, blaster rifle raised. “What is it?”

“Not sure,” Kix replied quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Ever reticent, Ithano merely nodded and took up position across from him. Kix nodded in silent gratitude that the pirate captain didn’t question his instincts. Then again, the Crimson Corsair hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his gut. 

Kix’s eyes darted to Maree again. She leaned over the console, scrolling rapidly through the data files, searching for any hint of the information they sought. He turned back toward the hallway, his eyes scanning it watchfully.

“No kriffin’ way,” Maree gasped.

“What?” Kix and Reveth demanded in unison.

“You just lost a bet, my love,” Maree told Kix.

“Wait, really?” Reveth asked. “It’s real?”

“‘Project Ophio,’” Maree read, her voice low and hurried. “Principal investigator Vamb Tebrem. Project number T327H1138X99. Primary focus of study is to develop experimental NM-K reconstitutors with the purpose of enhancing the durability and combat acumen of extant B-1 series assets…” Her voice trailed off as she leaned closer to the console, flicking through the data hurriedly. “Project director reported a 62% success rate in the initial efficacy trial; however the experimental reconstitutors were prohibitively expensive to manufacture, and the unpredictability observed in field tests was not adequately resolved—what field tests?”

“You catch any of that?” Reveth asked Kix.

He shrugged. Maree’s voice had dropped to an inaudible murmur as she scrolled through the data, then opened another data file. A quiet chime sounded from the console, drawing Reveth’s attention.

A glowing hologram appeared over the console: wave after wave of battle droids locked in combat a group of clone commandos who should have been able to easily defeat the B-1s. But the droids just kept going. Nothing could stop their advance as they overwhelmed the commandos’ positions and tore them to pieces. Kix swallowed hard, hearing the screams of the dying commandos, unable to take his eyes off the hologram. Maree slapped a button on the console and the sound paused abruptly as the holo froze.

“Holy kark,” she breathed.

“What?” Reveth asked. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Kix said grimly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Uh, about that…” Reveth said.

Ithano swiveled his head toward the Twi’lek. “What?”

“Opening that holofile triggered an alert in the system,” Reveth said. “Hopefully it’s nothing?”

“Time to go,” Kix growled.

“Yeah,” Maree said, her voice shaky. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“At least let me download the records,” Reveth argued, jamming a data spike into the console.

They all froze as a distant but unmistakable crash echoed through the base, followed by a rhythmic thumping.

“What is that?” Maree whispered.

“Clankers,” Kix said grimly, drawing his second blaster. “Seal the blast doors.”

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Reveth objected.

Maree stared at Kix. “Can’t we make it out before—”

A light flashed, and her body jerked as a blaster bolt smashed into her. She went down hard, and Kix barely had time to register what was happening before a firestorm of blaster bolts exploded into the room. He whirled back to the entrance and returned fire at the wave of battle droids that was advancing at high speed toward his position. Ithano was firing as fast as he could, but the droids weren’t dropping.

“Get those kriffing doors sealed!” Ithano bellowed.

Reveth had ducked down behind the console for cover as Maree scrambled to join her out of the line of fire. Reveth frantically worked the controls from her position on the floor, but she wasn’t fast enough. A single droid made it through before the doors slammed shut. The clanking and pounding of the army of droids battering against the blast doors was deafening. The lone battle droid charged across the command center.

“Kill it!” Kix shouted. “Fuckin’ kill it!”

Reveth, Ithano, and Kix unleashed a torrent of blaster bolts, but the karking thing wouldn’t go down, even as its components began to fail and fly off its body. It was headed for the console. It was headed toward Maree. Desperately, Kix launched himself at its mangled, skeletal form, tackling it as he locked his arms around and tore its head off with a sickening screech of twisting metal.

But the fucking thing kept moving, shambling toward the console. Kix growled and yanked out his vibroblade, slashing through the droid’s joints until nothing remained but a pile of scrap, and then he sprinted toward Maree, launching himself over the control console. 

“Maree!” Kix yelled hoarsely.

Her face was sweaty and contorted with pain as she clutched her hand around her upper arm, but she gave him a tight smile. “I’m all right.”

The blaster hole in her jacket sleeve was still smoking, and Kix felt sick as he saw blood covering her hand, oozing from a wound that should have been cauterized by the plasma bolt. 

“Let me see,” he ordered. 

She moved her hand, and he cut the sleeve away quickly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Oh, fuck, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I don’t have my kit.

“We have to get out of here,” Reveth rasped.

Kix dug frantically through his pouches, finding only a few small bacta patches and a vial of spray bandage. He didn’t have a choice. It would have to do, at least until they could make it back to the Stinger. 

He shoved the jacket sleeve and vibroblade toward Reveth. “Cut that into strips. Wide ones.”

He drenched the blaster wound with spray bandage, then grabbed the first strip Reveth cut from the jacket sleeve and quickly tied it around Maree’s arm near her shoulder. “Do you have a stylus on you?”

“Always,” Maree said, her voice tense with pain. She pulled the stylus out of her pocket and handed it to him, carefully avoiding looking at the charred, bloody wound. “Why is it bleeding so much?”

Kix tied the ends of the cloth strip around the stylus and twisted to tighten the makeshift tourniquet, securing it as he replied in an artificially calm tone. “Sometimes it happens. Move just wrong—the cauterized scab opens—blood.”

He ripped open the bacta patches and arranged them carefully over the injury, covering it as well as he could before wrapping the rest of the fabric strips around them to secure them in place. Finally, he looked up into her eyes, inadvertently smearing her own blood on her cheek as he cupped her face.

“I’m not losing you today.” His words were firm, but tremor in his hands was undeniable, and his pulse thundered in his ears.

She smiled at him through dry, ashen lips, and he kissed her forehead, then helped her carefully to her feet. Reveth had pulled up a schematic of the base, and Ithano joined them at the console, pausing to squeeze Kix’s shoulder briefly.

“We don’t die so easily,” the captain said in his deep, rasping voice.

“Not today, anyway,” Reveth cut in. “I found an escape route.”

“Please tell me it’s not the ventilation shaft,” Maree said unsteadily.

“It’s always the ventilation shaft,” Reveth replied.

Maree’s shoulder screamed with agony as she crawled through the ventilation shaft. She gritted her teeth to hold back the whimper of pain that hovered at the base of her throat. The ventilation shaft was filthy and cramped, and their progress was torturously slow as they navigated as silently as possible to their destination. The conduit wouldn’t take them all the way out of the base, so they would have to make a run for the main entrance when they got close. The only way they stood a chance of escaping was to not draw the attention of the battle droids.

She followed Kix through the labyrinthine ductwork, crawling laboriously on her knees and one hand. Her injured arm had burned like fire when Kix first applied the tourniquet, but now her arm was completely numb—and equally useless. At last, they found the access hatch to the main corridor. Kix dropped down first, and then Maree realized exactly how difficult this was going to be with only one functional arm. 

“Just drop,” he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

She took a deep breath and slid out of the maintenance hatch, feet first. Panic flashed in her mind briefly as she plummeted through the air, but Kix was true to his word, catching her before she could hit the ground. He set her down quickly and checked to make sure her bandage was still in place as first Reveth and then Ithano dropped down into the corridor.

They sprinted for the exit. Maree’s lungs burned and her vision blurred around the edges as she gasped for breath. Kix looked back at her sharply and reached for her hand, dragging her along behind him. By some miracle, the droids hadn’t detected them yet, and she could see the main entrance of the base. She forced herself to keep running, even as she stumbled and nearly went down, kept upright only by Kix’s strong grasp.

He tugged her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her, but he didn’t slow his pace. “We have to keep going, love. We can’t stop now.”

“I know,” she wheezed. “So close…”

She could hear the clanking of droids behind them, and she pushed herself as hard as she ever had in her life to keep running. They cleared the entrance, and Reveth tossed a few magnetized thermal detonators onto the ceiling of the base. 

Keep running, don’t stop, keep going.

The explosion knocked them off their feet, but the rubble of the collapsed ceiling blocked the main entrance. It wouldn’t hold back the droids for long, but it bought them time—so long as they kept moving. Kix was up first, pulling Maree with him as Reveth and Ithano scrambled to their feet.

They ran for the trees as Reveth commed Squeaky. “We need a pickup, now!”

“He can’t get to us in the jungle!” Kix said. “We have to find a clearing where the shuttle can land.”

They dodged through the trees, trying to avoid the worst of the swampy ground, but the dense underbrush slowed their progress and steered them on a circuitous route. Out of the corner of her eye, Maree saw movement in the earth. The ground shifted and began to swell.

“What the kriff is that?” she demanded.

“Keep running, don’t look back,” Kix urged.

“No, what is that?” she repeated.

She saw a flash of pale, bonelike metal alloy, and then a battle droid erupted from the earth.

“Fuck!” she screamed.

All around them, the skeletal forms of B1.5 droids began to emerge from the swampy ground, punching their way to the surface and dragging themselves up from the mud. Kix released Maree and drew both of his blasters, opening fire without hesitation. Maree, Reveth, and Ithano followed suit, for all the good it did them. The droids simply wouldn’t go down; even if they took so many hits that they started to fall apart, they still somehow shambled on in a grotesque parody of their normal precise movement.

They had no choice but to keep running and hope that they could at least slow some of the droids down. She could hear the roar of the shuttle overhead, but the vegetation was too dense for Squeaky to pick them up. The Gamorrean’s indistinct, frantic squealing sounded from Reveth’s comlink.

“He said there’s a clearing about a klick southwest!” Reveth yelled.

It might as well be on the other side of the planet, Maree thought hopelessly. There were simply too many droids; they were advancing relentlessly, and the terrain was too hostile to cross it with any speed. Holy shit, we’re all going to die here.

Her mind darted to the holorecord of the field test—a kriffing gruesome euphemism for such carnage. It had been a complete massacre. The terrified screams of the commandos as the droids tore them to pieces; the spray of blood and viscera: the images were branded irrevocably in her memory. It was a horrific way to die, and they were about to find out firsthand. 

Panic clawed at her, closing her throat and making her shots go wild. Her legs felt sluggish, and her feet became unsteady, but Kix never let her fall, even as he fired ceaselessly at the pursuing droids.

“We’re almost there,” he grunted. “Keep running, sweetheart, you can do it.”

“Kix, go,” Ithano ordered. “Get her to the Stinger.”

“No!” Maree exclaimed. “We’re not leaving you!”

Kix ignored her protests, bending over and tossing her over his shoulder as he ran. His plastoid armor cut into her thighs and belly, and she squirmed to try to get away.

“Put me down! Go back!”

Kix ignored her and raced for the clearing where the shuttle hovered just above the ground, ready to take off as soon as the crew were safely aboard. He dropped Maree in the copilot seat and turned to Squeaky.

“Don’t let her follow me.”

He sprinted to the back of the shuttle and jumped out, making for the treeline.

“Kix!” she screamed, lurching out of her seat.

Squeaky didn’t hesitate. He thrust her back into the chair with a stern grunt, then secured the safety harness to make sure she didn’t try to run again. She could hear blaster fire and shouting outside the ship, and she tugged desperately at the harness. Squeaky grunted again to order her to take control of the ship, and he lumbered toward the rear hatch, blaster ready.

Her heart hammered as she took the controls. Please, please, please. The distraught prayer echoed in her mind, silently beseeching the Force. I can’t lose him. Not like this. She felt utterly helpless as the deafening roar of Squeaky’s blaster fire pounded through the ship. Mercifully, she soon heard the pounding of boots on durasteel, and then Ithano launched into the pilot’s seat and punched the controls, hurtling the shuttle away from the planet.

“Kix?” she asked frantically.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees next to Maree’s chair and wrapping his arms around her. “I’m here.”

“I’m here, too, thanks for askin’,” Reveth said as she flopped into her seat.

Kix stood and quickly released the safety harness, tugging Maree out of the chair and burying his face against her neck.

“Holy kark, I can’t believe we all made it out,” Reveth said. “I was sure Maree was toast.”

Maree laughed, and Kix glared at the Twi’lek. “Not kriffin’ funny.”

“It’s kinda funny,” Reveth insisted.

Kix shook his head and drew Maree out of the cockpit and back to the tiny med bay at the rear of the shuttle. “Med bay” was putting it generously; it was really just a bunk and a large emergency medkit, but it had everything he needed to treat her shoulder. He administered a stim shot, cleaned and redressed her wound, and removed the tourniquet. He worked efficiently, and she didn’t see any of the distress that had clouded his eyes back at the base—of course, they weren’t fending off a horde of unkillable zombie droids this time, either.

“What’s the verdict, doctor?” she asked with a tiny smile.

He stroked his fingers over her forearm gently. “You’ll live. Gonna have a kickass scar, too.”

“Will you kiss it better?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

He smiled wryly as he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best. At least I’m finally going to have an exciting story to tell Baba and Eema.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, kriff, your mothers are going to kill me!”

The Stinger docked with the Meson Martinet first, and Squeaky, Reveth, and Ithano disembarked, then Kix piloted the shuttle to his own ship, the Scorpion. Brenko and Brosna were waiting next to the airlock when Kix and Maree emerged from the shuttle.

“Well, did you find the B1.5s?” Brosna asked.

“Yeah,” Kix replied grimly.

“Ha!” Brosna laughed triumphantly. “Pay up, Captain!”

“You’re still acting captain,” Kix retorted. “Now get your ass back up to the bridge until I relieve you.”

“Wait, you’re not taking command right now?” Brosna asked.

“Nope,” Kix replied, dragging Maree to their quarters.

The door hissed shut behind them, and Kix slapped the control panel to lock it. He was on Maree instantly, devouring her in a searing kiss as he unzipped and pulled off her jacket, carefully avoiding the large bandage on her shoulder. Once he had her top removed, he dropped his mouth to her throat and kissed a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down her body as he knelt in front of her. 

His hands roved over her urgently, clutching her body close to him. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he tugged down her trousers, and then he plunged his tongue into her ravenously. Her body jerked, and she cried out, losing her balance. He caught her with ease, then pulled her toward the bed.

“Kix,” she panted. “Don’t you at least want to get naked?”

“I can’t wait,” he groaned. “Sit on my face.”

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped.

“I’m planning to,” he said, lying on his back. “On my face. Now.”

She knelt, hovering over his mouth, staring down into his eyes. He gazed back up at her, sliding his hands up her waist to cup her breasts, before dropping them to her thighs and yanking her body downward.

“Kriff!” she exclaimed as his tongue slid deeply into her cunt, then his lips closed around her clit.

He held her in place as he feasted on her, his groans vibrating against her sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming. She writhed, nearly toppling over, then leaned back to brace her hands on his ribcage. He ate her like he was starving, like she was the last thing he would ever taste, and he fully intended to savor every drop.

“Kix—fuck—gods—” she moaned, her hips finding a subtle rhythm even as his strong hands gripped her, preventing her from moving more than a few centimeters.

He murmured quietly against her in between the kisses and licks and nibbles—soft, nearly inaudible whispers of fear and adoration and lust. “... taste so fucking good… love you so much… thought I was going to lose you… never letting go… so kriffin’ scared… want you so bad…”

He released her thigh and reached his hand around to massage her clit. All the muscles in her core began to tense as pleasure spooled tightly in her body, but her orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. She leaned back, groping blindly for his cock. She fumbled with his belt and eventually just slid her hand beneath the waistband until she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft.

He grunted at the contact, his hips thrusting up off the mattress. His hand strayed away from her clit to press his palm flat against her lower belly, and pressure was exactly what she needed. She convulsed with a sob, and he redoubled his efforts, tongue-fucking her through her orgasm. Distantly, she felt the thrusting of his cock against her hand, and then a rush of hot, sticky cum on her fingers.

She crumpled to the bed, and he pulled her tightly against him, kissing the backs of her thighs as she slowly came back to herself. After a few moments, he shifted, curling up behind her, tucking his thighs behind her legs as he drew her body close to his and buried his face in her hair.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He kissed the side of her neck, just behind her ear, dragging his tongue slowly across her skin as he slid his hand up to play with her breast. “Love you. Never scare me like that again.”

She laughed quietly. “Aye, aye, Cap’n. What’s gotten into you, anyway? You were acting protective before we even left the Martinet.”

He lay silently for a moment, breathing in the scent of her hair, before he replied. “You’re late.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re… your cycle, it’s like clockwork. And—you’re late,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed. “Oh.”

The original comic panel that inspired this story! This was from Star Wars Adventures Ashcan. Alas, this comic was never published, so I am once again filling in the gaps in canon.

ADDITIONAL CONTENT WARNING: mention of possible pregnancy.

[soranatus]

Star Wars: Smuggler's Guide (2018) - The Crimson Corsair and the crew of the Meson Martinet | Illustrations by Javier Charro Martinez

[reyturnofbensolo]

Really dig Echo’s ship, the Remora!

The design of the Remora is based on the Meson Martinet, a ship glimpsed in Star Wars: The Force Awakens, expanded upon in the LEGO Star Wars: The Force Awakens video game, and then fully realized in Star Wars Resistance.

The transport was equipped with a detachable leech vessel.

[kaminocasey]

Sacred Woman (Part One)

Summary: You're the First Mate on the Meson Martinet, the ship that Sidon Ithano captains. A few years ago, you all accidentally found Kix, thinking he was the lost treasure of Count Dooku. Instead, you found an even better treasure. Now, you’re searching far and wide in the galaxy for the scientist who could possibly undo the progressive aging gene in Kix's DNA. You'll stop at nothing.

Pairing: Pirate!Kix x (fem) Pirate!Rader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Violence, Attempted SA, Blood, Angst, eventual Smut

WC: 3.3K

A/N: I've been working on this since APRIL. I'm so freaking excited about this story! Parts of this were inspired/used from "The Crimson Corsair and the Lost Treasure of Count Dooku" by Landry Q. Walker (Free on Kindle Unlimited). Photos found from Pinterest!

Sacred Woman Masterlist │ TAGLIST FORM │ Sacred Woman Playlist

“Look at this, Blitz… A pretty little thing… walking all alone down this dark alley.” A slimy voice purrs and you automatically start to grab your knife out of your boot. 

One of the guys chuckles, obviously underestimating you. His mistake. It’s been a while since you’ve fought someone, but only because you’ve been doing your best to keep out of trouble. 

“She thinks that’s going to do something.” The other guy smirks, glancing at your knife. 

Normally, you’d give a guy a warning. But with these guys… this could’ve been some other poor woman walking down this back alley, so you won’t feel too bad when you inevitably have to slit their throats. 

You wait for one of them to touch you. You wait for them to make the move… 

“Come on, sweetheart.” The first guy starts to touch your jacket.

That’s all you need. You strike first, grabbing his wrist and bending it back, making him gasp in pain. His buddy is taken aback and stumbles back, startled. Good. 

“You bitch.” The one in front of you, growls and you smirk, pulling your knife up under his chin, trailing it down to his Adam’s apple. 

His snarl quickly turns into trembling fear and he automatically starts begging for his life. They always do… Except his buddy starts to grab for a blaster tucked in his jacket and you quickly throw your knife into his wrist, making him cry out in pain. Sending your fist into the first guy’s right jaw, you knock him right out. He drops with a satisfying ‘thud’ and you quickly slide over to the other guy, grabbing your knife out of his wrist and he starts to run away, leaving his buddy behind with no problem. 

A set of footsteps brings your attention back the other way as you raise your knife, prepared for another fight. You’re met with a tall Delphidian holding one of his hands up in a surrendering manner, the other hand holding a red Kaleesh helmet. 

“What do you want?” You ask him, not tucking away your knife. 

He smiles, softly. “I’m Sidon Ithano, the Crimson Corsair.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” You lean down and wipe the blade on the shirt of the guy who’s still out cold and then tuck it into your boot again before standing up. 

“I’m a pirate.”

“Okay. And?” You ask him, still staring at him.

“I saw those guys starting to attack you and then tried to come help. But you clearly had no problem on your own, there.” 

You shrug. “Did you need something?” 

“I could use some muscle like that on my crew.” He smiles. 

You let out a huff of a laugh, tilting your head. “You want me to join your pirate crew?” 

He nods. “You’re a Mandalorian, are you not?” 

You stare at him, harder. You’ve not called yourself that for a few years now. There weren’t many of you left. 

“Used to be… How could you tell?” You ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“From your fighting. It was a Mandalorian style I’ve not seen in a long time…” 

“Right…” 

“So, what do you say?” He asks. 

You walk past him. “No thanks.” 

Who the hell is this guy? The Crimson Corsair… why does that name sound so familiar? 

“Do you have another purpose here?” He asks you.

You stop, staring ahead. How could he see through you so well? You’ve been on this planet for a few months, temporarily living in a cheap hostel, doing bounty work on the side. Quite a life, you’ve made for yourself, right? Your family would be so proud… 

It wouldn’t kill you to start a new adventure. Or maybe it would. But either way, you can’t help but be curious. 

You turn around, staring at the tall pirate. “When do we leave?” 

Five Years Later… 

“What do you think?” Sidon’s modulated asks you as you both stand over a dead Trandoshan.

The crew is still up in the ship and as Sidon’s first mate, you’re next to him at all times. He doesn’t speak a lot, except to you. He trusts you to do most of the speaking on his behalf.

“Well, it doesn’t look good.” You joke. 

The planet you’re on isn’t necessarily First Order run… but there is a presence here. You’re supposed to be picking this guy up so he could take you to a scientist who you’ve been searching for for two years.

“Should we leave him, Captain?” You ask.

“Do you think someone is leaving us a message?” He wonders, aloud, ignoring your question. 

“Could be…” You shrug in agreement. 

“But from whom?” Sidon murmurs, kicking the guy over onto his back. “There are very few people who know who we’re looking for.”

His eyes are missing, leaving burnt crispy edges behind. Ew. 

The truth is there could be any number of people trying to “leave you a message”. You have a lot of friends, and you have a lot of enemies. So to narrow it down is next to impossible. 

“Tell me what you think.” Sidon tells you, turning back to face you. 

He glances past you at some of the crew peeking out the hatch. When they see him looking at them, they quickly make themselves busy. 

“I think we should leave him.” You answer. “We’ll find another way…” 

He nods, considering it for a moment… calculating… “We’ll leave him.” 

You start to head back up toward the hatch, Sidon only a step behind you. But you feel him pause, so you turn to look at him as he still stares at the body, deep in thought. After knowing the Captain for the last five years, you’re pretty well able to anticipate his moves and thoughts. It feels like you’ve known him your whole life. 

“What-” You start to ask, but all of a sudden, violent blaster fire is raining down on you.

You and your captain run toward the hatch, with you yelling into your comm to start the ship. Only seconds later, you hear the familiar sounds of boosters and engines starting up. Sidon pauses at the closing hatch toward the culprit of the blaster fire and more than likely also the dead Trandoshan. 

It’s always a trap, isn’t it?

“All hands to stations.” Your voice carries throughout the ship. “I repeat, all hands to stations. We are under attack.”

As you make your way through the Meson Martinet, up to the bridge, you run directly into your medic, Kix. Kix is a clone who once fought in the Clone Wars and got kidnapped by Separatists and held in cryo for 50 years. You and Sidon, and the rest of the crew found him a few years ago, thinking it was the lost treasure of Count Dooku. Turned out to be even better than treasure. Though you’d never admit that to anyone. You have a soft spot for the man. He’s also who you were doing all of this for. That Trandoshan was supposed to take you to a scientist who’s supposedly able to undo the progressive aging gene in Kix’s DNA, which once affected all clones.

“You alright?” He smirks. 

You nod. “Yep.” 

“You find the guy?” He asks, falling into step with you as you head toward the bridge again. 

“Yeah, but someone else got to him first apparently.” 

“Dead?”

“Yep.” You reply, popping the ‘p’ sound. 

He considers this as you get into the lift up to the bridge. “Well, we’ll figure it out.” 

“Always so positive.”

“Only because I believe in you.” He grins.

You ignore the warmth spreading through your veins and to your cheeks. 

Get it together, you’re under attack right now, you chide yourself internally. 

When the lift doors slide open, you nod to the medic and approach Sidon. 

“Get us out of here.” Sidon commands Parth. 

“Yes, sir.” He replies. 

The Meson Martinet lurches upwards toward the atmosphere, shaking slightly from taking fire. Yours and Sidon’s eyes remain forward out the windows, until you see the vast blackness of space.

“Hyperdrive. Now.” Sidon commands.

The ship pauses ever so slightly before shooting forwards into the dancing bright blues of hyperspace. You can feel everyone visibly relax once Sidon sits down in the captain’s seat. You stand next to him, looking down at him.

“Where to now?” You ask him.

He gently waves you off, to let him think. With a nod, you walk away to the deck command. 

“Reset the coordinates.” You tell the pilot, Parth, a young Rodian, but also one of the best pilots you’ve ever seen.

“Where for, ma’am?” He asks, quietly.

You glance back at the pondering captain, who still seems to be deep in thought, before giving Parth the new coordinates. It’s a quick split decision that you make. If Sidon decides that it was a waste of fuel, then fine. But for now, you know it’ll be a safe place to go. 

As you walk through the ship, you do your duties of inspecting things, checking the cargo, making sure people are doing what they’re supposed to be doing, helping out when you’re needed. You’ve been Sidon’s first mate for the last four years. It was a hard job at first, but now it all seems to come natural to you.

Kix smiles and says your name from the open door of the incredibly small makeshift medbay when you start to pass by. Stopping to lean in the doorway, you cross your arms with your own soft smile.

You’ll never forget the first time you and Kix locked eyes when he woke up from that cryo-cycle stasis pod. He looked so scared and confused. It made your heart hurt right away, even though you did your best to hide that fact. 

“You don’t understand!” He yelled, his voice breaking as he shoved Reveth, a red twi’lek. “I’m a medic, and I learned something… something horrible… Fives knew. He’s the one who figured it all out after Tup… and it got him killed. But I kept investigating. They said it was a virus…” 

You see out of the corner of your eye Sidon gesturing subtly to Squeaky, a large Gamorrean, who’s surprisingly kind and funny, and Pendewquell, a tall Ishi Tib man who’s been on the crew probably longer than you’ve been alive. The two guys start circling to either side of the poor clone. 

“A chip in our heads. In all the clones’ heads! And an order. A command to betray… kill… and it comes from the Chancellor!” 

Kix had grabbed Squeaky’s outstretched hand and flung him into Pendewquell. The effort is obviously too much for him though and makes him stagger a bit but he keeps talking, quicker this time. 

“The Seppies… captured me. Interrogated me to find out who else knew.” He seems to be sweating and shaking. He looks so sad, your heart is urging you to go to him. 

Finally his eyes land on you and he starts to slow down. 

“I… I never had a chance to tell anyone else what I learned. I didn’t know who I could trust… But I wouldn’t tell them anyway.”

You nod. You’re sure your face is mirroring the heartbreak in this man’s voice. His eyes never leave yours as he continues. 

“So they said… they said they were sending me to someone I couldn’t keep secrets from… To the Sith… the cold… the freezing, burning cold…” He slumps immediately to the ground, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

You rush to him, holding him up. His body still freezing cold, you take off your jacket and put it over him.

“Stasis poisoning,” Reveth tells you quietly. “He was trapped in there for too long.” 

“No…! I can still save them. Skywalker…” The clone mumbles intently. “Get me General Skywalker! He’ll help. We can save… save the Jedi… save the Republic!”

“What’s your ID, trooper?” Quiggold, a large nervous Gabdorin, asks him.

“CT-6116.” He coughs. “Kix. They call me… Kix… sir…” 

And with that, he slips into unconsciousness. Reveth hands you a breather to place over his face. 

Kix. You can already tell you’re going to do anything to help this man. No matter what. 

You’d barely made it out of that cruiser alive. A bunch of old super battle droids had powered up and then the ship had started to sink. You’d gone to escape in the escape pods but there had only been one and Sidon pushed everyone into it and then pushed the activation switch, which had launched the crew at a high velocity through the Sea of Sand back on Ponemah Terminal, away from the burning and sinking cruiser. 

You’d stayed nearby for three weeks, camping out, scared to leave Sidon behind if he’d somehow made it. You weren’t ready to be a captain yet. You’d only been a first mate for a year. But supplies had started to run low and a desert planet was a really bad place to be without food and water. 

Kix had recovered, physically. He was of course in deep shock over all the history lessons you’d gently given him. 

You hear your name behind you and find Kix, who was after two weeks out of cryo finally looking a lot better. 

At least, physically. He still woke up every night with nightmares, so you stayed nearby him at all times in case he needed you. Everyone would cast you knowing glances and Q even made the mistake of making a comment, but you threatened his life and he apologized and promised to mind his own damn business. 

“Are you alright?” You ask Kix. 

He smiles that heartbreaking smile and nods. He’s incredibly handsome. Probably the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. And since you aren’t the type to sleep around or fall in love, this revelation of how Kix is making you feel makes you nervous.

Reveth and Quiggold walk over to you, intent clear on their faces. Well, mostly on Reveth’s. Q just looks nervous as always. 

“What?” You cross your arms.

“He’s gone.” Reveth tells you. You know she means Sidon. “And we might as well have sunk with him. We’ve lost everything. We’re ruined.” 

“I know… I just…” You look at the massive indent of where the cruiser was three weeks ago. “One more week. I mean maybe-”

“Maybe what?” She demands, clearly agitated. “Maybe the captain somehow tamed the giant worm and rode it through an explosive desert of sand and lava? Is that what you’re hoping for?” 

You shrug. Theoretically, if anyone could do all of that, Sidon could. But… you know deep down there’s more than likely no chance and that it’d be best for the crew if you were to pack it in and start to head back to the Meson Martinet.

Except right as you start to tell everyone to pack it in, yours and everyone’s jaw drops. In the doorway, stands the Crimson Corsair. Sidon Ithano. His cloak is in tatters and his red helmet is in desperate need of a polish. But here he is right now in front of you… alive.

“H-how?” Quiggold asks, clearly at a loss of words.

Hell, so are you. You’re so happy, you could cry. 

Sidon waves away the questions and instead tosses a metal cube to Kix. 

“What is it?” You ask him.

He looks from you to the cube. “It’s… it’s a Separatist cruiser’s memory core.” Kix tells you. “These were designed to self-destruct. But this one… it must have malfunctioned.” 

He looks up at you. “This cube carries a complete map to every hidden droid factory ever built by the Separatists. Secret bases. Weapons warehouses. Everything.”

Reveth passes by and takes the cube, whistling appreciatively at it. “This would’ve been impossible to decode fifty years ago. Now? Easy. We track down those installations… that’s our ancient buried treasure! We’ll be rich!”Quiggold whistles. “And we just happen to have an expert in Clone Wars-era military installations and their security systems on hand. Welcome aboard, Kix.” 

Kix turns back to you and smiles, making your chest tighten at the sight. You smile softly back at him. If he wants to join the crew, you’d be happy to let him. But if he’d rather go on his own, then you’d have to be okay with that, too.

“Would you like to join the Meson Martinet, Kix?” You ask him, trying to keep the hopeful tone down.

He looks around at the rest of the crew before settling his back on your own. “I’d like that very much.”

You try to ignore the excitement stirring in your stomach and instead cast your smile toward the alive captain.

“How did you survive? The fire… the sand… the giant worm?” You ask him, unable to help the curiousness.

“You know better than that, love. I’m Sidon Ithano… I don’t die so easily.” 

“You busy?” Kix asks you. 

You glance down the empty durasteel hall and then back at Kix, going inside the medbay, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the door, crossing your arms again. 

“I’m sorry someone got to that Trandoshan guy before we could.” You murmur. 

Kix was already showing some slight aging. Maybe that of a man in his mid 30s. The lines in his forehead form a little more each year, and his beard makes him look a bit older. In a good way. Distinguished. Rugged. Handsome. 

The thought of finding this scientist when it could be too late… 

“I’m not upset.” Kix’s voice is softer than it should be. 

He should be upset.

“I am, though.” You look up from the floor, staring at him, coldly. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by Parth comm-ing you to come to the bridge. 

“On my way.” You keep eye contact with Kix as you speak into the small device. 

You and Kix stare at each other for another moment as his brown eyes bare into yours. With a sigh, you turn to go. 

“If…” He starts, making you pause. “If we don’t find this scientist… it won’t be the end of the world.” 

You turn to glare at him. Maybe not the end of the world… but it would be the end of yours… 

“You’ll need to move on-” He tells you, but you don’t let him finish because you walk away, back up to the bridge. 

How could he say such things? Although, it’s not like he knows how you feel. He doesn’t know how you’d tear apart the entire galaxy to find this scientist. He doesn’t know the things you’d do to give him a good, long, happy life. But you can show him. 

When you reach the bridge, Sidon beckons you forward to him. 

“Concordia?” His modulated voice asks, his head tilted ever so slightly. 

You don’t have to be able to see that he’s quirking an eyebrow at you, curiously. He’s basically been prepping you to be captain since you joined the crew. He always tells you what a great leader you’re going to make one day. So, he’s not questioning your choice per se. But he is curious as to why. You know that.

You shrug. “There’s someone that I think could help us.”

“Incoming aircraft, identify yourselves.” A familiar voice says, and you raise your eyebrows at Sidon, waiting for his final okay. 

He thinks for only a few seconds before nodding. You nod once to him before turning back toward Parth and his command deck. 

“Vil,” You say your brother’s name, letting them know you’re not a threat. “It’s me. I need help.” 

It’s quiet for a long moment. Too quiet for too long. When finally…

“Free to dock. Wait to be boarded.” 

“Copy.” You sigh, then look at your crew. “On your best behavior, everyone.” 

You can feel Sidon’s curious smirk as Parth lands the Meson Martinet. 

“Don’t give me that, right now.” You shake your head, amused. 

“Aye, Captain.” He murmurs, teasingly.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[mwolf0epsilon]

Do you think the SW Sequels Era did anything right? I've seen a lot of backlash in regards to what they did wrong, but I'm genuinely curious to see what some people think were positives ideas to come out of the whole ordeal. (Luke's characterization, Reylo canonicity completely sidelining Finn and Poe, and Disney/Execs overall throwing their POC cast to the wolves when they weren't happy with conditions were decisions that should have never been made in my own opinion btw)

This is one of those topics that might stir up a wasp's nest depending on who you ask, but honestly the Sequels Era as a whole wouldn't be so bad if the executive decisions behind them weren't such a disrespectful trash fire.

But yeah Anon, I getcha. We've all seen people's (rightfully) negative opinions of the Sequels Era and how much squandered potential the trilogy turned out to be. That said I do think there are some positives. Mostly in the form of ideas that DO still have potential so long as they're approached with care and consideration.

With that said, what I think they did right:

The Force Awakens - It's just a straight up good movie that opened the door to a lot of possibilities. Good OST, good cast, interesting alien and creature designs, combined some pretty dark elements that could very easily be explored more deeply by anyone who's interested in sparking a debate about willing conscription vs forced indoctrination and how to tell the two apart, etc. I still consider it a part of mine and @lost-on-kamino 's Forceful Intervention AU Verse because honestly it's a movie that paid excellent homage to both the original and prequels trilogies.

Star Wars Resistance - A lot of people consider it a subpar show, which honestly I don't see. It has so many interesting themes, from privileged kids that want to actually do good instead of sitting pretty while the world burns around them, the dangers of targeted propaganda and how it's specifically used on youths that are dealing with trauma left behind by war, trying to make your way in a galaxy that isn't always friendly but that can offer you community if you know where to look, and more. The cast is fun, the style isn't the worst I've seen in terms of animation, and overall I feel like it's a breath of fresh air to focus on characters that aren't inherently connected to the Force.

Kix Lives - There is absolutely so much potential behind the reveal that Kix was not only frozen in stasis by Dooku, but also found 50 years in the future after everyone he knew and held dear to his heart have been dead and gone for a long while now. The amount of survivor's guilt and trauma would be immeasurable, if not torturous, and I feel like the writers at least owe it to Kix to help him find some legacy his brothers might have left behind. Be it artifacts or even entire lineages they might have been able to start. If not that, then at least show us some of his adventures with the crew of the Meson Martinet.

Barghests - They added a new kind of space doggo that I absolutely love the design of, and want to see in action so badly. Just look at these absolute creatures of all time:

Delightful beasts! Friend shaped! Worthy of as much esteem as the humble Massiff, the zesty Charhound or the beefy Corellian Hound!

And that's about it on my list of things that the Sequels Era did right. If only the rest wasn't an absolute mess... We could have definitely had something really good to work with.

Ah well... Nothing like rolling up the proverbial sleeves and getting to work exploring all the wasted potential yourselves!

[jadiina-hope]

Y'all Y'ALL!

Hear me out. I might be crazy but hear me out!

The top pic is one of the bandits from Ahsoka episode 6. The bottom is Sidon Ithano, captain of the Meson Martinet and the pirate crew that found Kix!

I don't fully know Kix's post-order 66 story cuz (don't hate me) I haven't read the comic yet so I might be crazy BUT DON'T THEY LOOK SO SIMILAR!?!?

WHAT IF WE SEE KIX!!

[redrobinhoods]

“that’s gonna scar” | Febuwhump 2023

CW: None

Summary: Kix seeks out Jesse for help with an injury

AO3 Link | Febuwhump Index

“Jesse!” Kix hissed, sliding down the muddy knoll to his brother’s side.

Jesse ducked down as blasterfire rang overhead before turning to Kix. “What?”

“Help me get my pack off.”

Jesse paused for a moment, his helmet tilting to the side.

“Just do it.” Kix turned around.

He heard Jesse sigh from behind him before the man obliged, gingerly removing the straps from Kix’s right shoulder, then his left. Kix hissed in pain as the strap touched his left forearm.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Kix turned around, holding his left arm to his chest as he opened the pack with his right hand, looking through the contents.

“Where’s your blaster?”

Kix waved his right hand at the direction he had come from. “Over there.”

“And you’re here.”

Kix extended his arm to Jesse. “Get the vambrace off.”

Jesse’s helmet tilted once again but he obliged before falling backwards with a shout of surprise.

Kix shook his head, gritting his teeth against the pain. “You’re not done yet.”

“Kix.” Jesse breathed, whipping off his helmet. His facad gone white, nausea clear on his features.

“Cut off my blacks.” Kix instructed, bringing out a small knife from his pack.

“Cut off your arm.” Jesse retorted. But he took the knife and carefully slid it under the wrist of the fabric before cutting up, winching as he passed the exposed bone that had cut through to the plastoid. “How?”

“Got thrown by a blast. Slammed into a rock.” Kix frowned as he looked down at his arm. Compound fracture, ulnar midshaft. His frown deepened as he turned his arm. And radial midshaft. “Nice.” He murmured to himself. There was something in him that had separated the pain from himself, perhaps shock, perhaps his own acquaintance with injuries.

“That’s gonna…” Jesse’s voice faded off.

“Need surgery.” Kix finished.

“Scar.” Jesse made a retching sound as he looked back down at the exposed bone. “You need a medic.”

Kix looked up to meet his eyes. “I am a medic. And you have two hands.” He passed Jesse a roll of bandage and dressing. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Jesse took the offered items with a sigh. Kix wouldn’t have been surprised if he did throw up.

“Dressing.” Kix ordered. “Don’t put pressure on the bones.”

Jesse met his eyes before following the orders.

The moment the dressing touched his forearm a scream echoed in his ears. The pain had returned from wherever it had gone, running up his arm like a river of fire. His head swam and for a few moments Kix thought he would pass out. Then the world came back into focus as he bent over on top of his pack, panting. He couldn’t stifle the undignified whimper of pain as he sat back up.

“Wrap me up.” He said hoarsely, his throat burning.

Jesse’s jaw was set tight, worry in his eyes, but he did so with steady hands, ignoring the little whimpers Kix couldn’t hold back as little rivulets of pain shot up from the wound. He didn’t have to ask for a sling. The moment the bandage was secured Jesse was already moving, tightly securing Kix’s left arm to his body.

Kix sighed when Jesse sat back, letting his head loll to his chest as he took in a deep breath of exhaustion.

Jesse’s hand clapped his shoulder. “Sit tight, let me comm Rex.”

“I can still help.” Kix protested.

“No.” Jesse said with a pained smile. “Not today.”

-

Kix didn’t bother to check the water temperature before he stepped into the shower on the Meson Martinet. Fifty years, fifty years in cryostasis. Everything he had been told whirled around his head until it threatened to drag him into the drain with the water. He touched a hand to his ice-burned skin. He expected that it must be hurting him, but his senses were drowning underneath the agony of revelations; some merely hours old, others a week old, fifty years ago.

He drew his fingers along his skin without thought before he paused, fingers over a still-fresh scar. That small mark was enough to bring him to his knees, curling up on himself. He wanted to cry, he wanted to sob, but all he could do was break in silence as the ghost of Jesse’s hand on his shoulder haunted him. Jesse had lain his hand on Kix’s shoulder, last week. Fifty years ago.

[waterlily707]

Castaways we are castaways ✨

The kind of dynamic i'd picture reveth and kix having is more of like brother n sister, but the shitpost kind.

Haha serotonin go brr

[gospelofme]

Kix’s Morning Routine

Post Order 66

The gentle vibrations of the Meson Martinet had helped lull him to sleep initially. But staying asleep had been a challenge. Kix’s dreams had once been a mixture of nightmares and pleasantness. He had once had someone to share that early awakening after a nightmare. Now when he sat up straight, chest heaving and heart racing, he was alone. He looked around the empty space as his eyes adjusted to darkness. There was a small yellow light from a charging station in the corner of the room. His datapad on the station showed that it was back to a full charge.

The former medic flopped back down onto his mattress and stared at the ceiling. This nightmare had been on repeat for the last couple days. It seemed like his mind was trying to make up for 50 years of missed nightmares.

“At least I didn’t dream in stasis...” Kix muttered to himself. He closed his eyes and tried to fall back to sleep. He kept expecting to hear Rex’s voice cut through the silence. Or perhaps hear Fives whisper to Jesse about something. He longed for those sounds. Yearned to wake up back in the barracks, surrounded by his brothers sleeping soundly.

When he had been found and awakened by Captain Ithano and his crew, he had hoped that this was all a nightmare. Or perhaps a simulation by the Separatists and he’d be rescued soon. But as the days passed, it became clear that this was his new life. He had been overwhelmed with all of the information from the last 50 years. So much so that he had decided to slowly expose himself to the history that now formed his new world.

Sleep wasn’t happening so he figured he might as well get up and start the day. He had kept much the same routine has he had previously, with one change. He no longer shaved his face. He trimmed his new beard just enough to keep it healthy and tidy, but he couldn’t bear to see his bare face. He couldn’t bear to see the tattoo on the side of his head. He couldn’t bear to shave in those lightening bolts. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his reflection. To look at the face of his brothers that he had failed.

The refresher was smaller than he was used to. But it was his own. He didn’t have to worry about Fives busting in on him in the shower and pushing him out. His brother overslept sometimes.

“Had over slept.” He corrected himself. He brushed his teeth for two full minutes, swishing mouth wash around after. He stripped and turned on the shower, holding his hand under the water to gauge temperature. Showering on a ship wasn’t any different than the military. There was a limited water supply, so a quick shower was still encouraged. As soon as it was hot enough, Kix jumped in and lathered up. He was still getting used to washing his beard, but he had found some helpful tips on the holonet.

Once clean and rinsed, he shut off the water and grabbed a towel. This part was different now. Before he had hurried to the locker room and had grabbed a pair of blacks, Fives or Jesse would be there giving theirs a sniff test.

From there he would go back to the dorm room, where Rex would be yelling orders and ushering men to get ready.

Now he walked back into his room, his silent room, and picked out a pair of pants and shirt that was clean enough. He had some armor to wear, but it wasn’t anything like his old set. He had painted the red medic symbol on the shoulder plates, but he couldn’t bring himself to design the rest like his previous set.

Once dressed, he grabbed his med bag and dumped it out on his bed. He sorted the meds and supplies into small piles. He needed more pain pills, bacta, and antiseptic. The pirates he now found himself with were similar to his brothers in the sense that they declined pain injections and pills unless absolutely needed. Reveth had a habit of chewing her pills, just like Jesse would do. It grossed him out then and it still did. Before, he would pick out what he needed from the medical supply closet in the barracks, using a code that only the medics knew to open the door. The closet would always be well stocked, Kix didn’t have to put in orders for resupply often.

Now the closet was in his medical room, he put the supplies back in his bag and headed out of his room and down the corridor. Once in the medical bay, he upended his bag on the table and sorted the contents into piles. He opened the door to the supply closet and looked at the inventory. It was pretty bare. They’d need to restock it soon. He grabbed the last two rolls of gauze and shook a couple of the pill bottles, consolidating the pain pills all into one bottle. He knew them by sight so he didn’t worry about mix-ups. He opened the cooler and looked at the bacta supply. They had two injector pens, three small bags, and 6 patches left. He put three of the patches into the small portable cooler but left the rest in the closet. Bacta now had to be smuggled or purchased on the black market. He would discuss the need to resupply with the Captain later. Before all he had to do was put in a request by filling out a form on his datapad, the supplies requested would appear in the closet within a day or two. Now it could be months before they found bacta again at an affordable price.

Kix packed up his bag again and carried it to the galley. Before he would get his tray and find a seat somewhere with Fives and Jesse, maybe Rex would join them. Frequently General Skywalker and Commander Tano ate with them. Now it was either just him or him and Reveth and Quiggold or Squeaky. Captain Ithano would join them occasionally, but he was a man of few words. Today it was just Quiggold, who was waiting for one of the pre-packaged meals to heat up. At least the food wasn’t much different. It was either frozen, pre-packaged meals or freeze dried meals that could be eaten as is or rehydrated. Quiggold held up a frozen breakfast sandwich, to which Kix nodded and shrugged. Quiggold placed Kix’s food in to the small microwave after his was done.

This was his life now. It wasn’t as horrible as it could’ve been. If it wasn’t for this bunch, he’d still be in stasis or dead. They took it upon themselves to take him with them, when they could’ve seen him as a burden and left him to die in the desert. They had been patient with him and felt sympathy for him. He had also found himself useful being among them. They hadn’t had a medic before. He had begun to get that sense of adventure back, traveling to and plundering Separatist bases was something Fives would’ve approved of. He knew that the path to recovery was going to be painful and hard. There had already been days he just hid away in his room and cried. Moments where PTSD just overwhelmed him.

It had been said that his kind was immune to mental and physical stressors. That PTSD was something that wouldn’t impact them. Seems like the Kaminoans had been wrong about that.

[skeletonbagels]

PLEASE tell me who runs these sidon ithano rp accounts on twitter. they haven't been online in 4 years and i will make it my duty to find these legends and follow them

[florathaumatos]

me cradling sidon ithano’s head

content 🍵support me ☕️

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 13

Strangers with Candy

Rating: T (rating varies by chapter; mature content will be tagged)

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 3.2K

Warnings: pirate shenanigans; angst; Valsi being all, "Help is on the way, dear!"

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It was hot in the New Republic Galactic Library. Maree glared at the enormous transparisteel window in her office and vigorously cursed whatever kriffing nerf herder had made the stupid-ass decision to install a window that couldn’t be opened. She adjusted the small fan on her desk as she scrolled through the morning’s holomessages. Most of them were from colleagues complaining about the temperature. Most recently, the head maintenance droid had sent out an announcement that the sprawling complex’s central climate control would not be adjusted until the summer solstice. Maree squinted with irritation as the indignant replies began to pop up in her inbox.

She scowled as she reviewed the New Republic Judiciary’s latest research directive. What’s the shukking point, if they’re just going to cut a plea deal for amnesty? she thought crankily. She despised this weather. The record-breaking heat had only been amplified by the thick humidity rolling off the western ocean, which had also taken on a horrifying stench of decaying marine animals in the last few days. The air felt thick. Maree peeled the sheer fabric of her dress away from her body and tilted the fan to blow down her neckline in a futile attempt at cooling off.

The soft chime of her office door startled Maree, and she accidentally knocked the fan off the desk. Muttering curses under her breath, she scrambled to set the fan back in place.

“Come in,” she snapped.

The door slid open to reveal the receptionist Eidani Olphes, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Good morning, Eidani,” Maree said. 

“Good morning, Dr. Finnall,” Eidani said. “Is everything all right?”

“Bendudays, am I right?” Maree sighed. The Devaronian nodded. “What can I do for you this morning, Eidani?”

Eidani glanced behind her to the closed door of the outer office.

“There are some people here to see you, Dr. Finnall,” she said. “They seem a little… Disreputable. Would you like me to call security?”

“Did they say what they wanted?” Maree asked.

Eidani shook her head. Maree exhaled audibly.

“I suppose we’d better find out. Teejay, please send our guests in. Thank you, Eidani. You don’t have to stay if they make you uncomfortable.”

Eidani nodded gratefully and scurried away as two beings entered the office. One was a Gabdoran with a prosthetic leg made rather ingeniously from a fuel funnel, and the other was an intimidating figure dressed head-to-toe in red and black and wearing a red helmet modeled after a Kaleesh mask. Both men had blasters strapped to their hips, which was not an uncommon sight on Hosnian Prime, but was generally frowned upon inside the NRGL. No wonder Eidani had seemed a tad skittish.

“Good morning,” she said. “I am Dr. Maree Finnall.”

The Gabdoran stepped forward heavily. “Greetings, Dr. Finnall,” he said in a ceremonious tone. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Quiggold, first mate of the Meson Martinet, and this is my esteemed captain, Sidon Ithano.”

The tall crimson man nodded his masked head in silent greeting. Was she supposed to recognize the name of their ship? And why was the Gabdoran talking like he was announcing a guest of honor at a formal ball? And why was it so Maker-forsaken humid?

“A pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Please come in. Would you like a cup of tea? Or some spiced biscuits?”

Ithano wordlessly declined, but Quiggold accepted with enthusiasm. “I thank you for your gracious offer, Dr. Finnall. Perhaps just the biscuits. The weather is too oppressive for tea.”

Maybe the formality is a Gabdoran thing, Maree thought as she arranged a few biscuits on a plate and pulled a large carafe of chilled water out of the mini-conservator.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” she said as she set the refreshments on the table. “How can I assist you today?”

Quiggold crunched a biscuit with a blissful expression on his face. “May I say, Doctor, that these biscuits are exquisite!”

“Thank you,” Maree said, waiting for him to get to the kriffing point. She sipped a glass of water and subtly pressed her wrist to the cold glass, seeking any measure of relief from the heat. How in the name of the Force did Ithano survive under all those layers? And with the mask as well? 

“That is a remarkable helmet, Captain Ithano,” she said. “Have you spent much time on Kalee?”

The captain shook his head slowly.

“Well spotted, Dr. Finnall,” Quiggold said around a bite of his second biscuit. “Not everyone recognizes the helmet, but then, I suppose not everyone is an expert in military history. I believe we have indeed found the right individual for the job.”

Maree blinked. “Job? What job?”

Quiggold cleared his throat, then took a long drink of water. “My illustrious captain has a proposition for you. It has come to his attention that he is in need of an historian to document his glorious deeds for posterity. There are some in the Outer Rim territories who doubt his fearsome reputation, but no-one would dare to question the testimony of an esteemed and reputable scholar such as yourself.”

“What kind of glorious deeds would require such documentation?” Maree asked, bewildered.

“The Meson Martinet specializes in—er—asset retrieval,” Quiggold said.

Maree narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Indeed. I recently encountered another ‘asset retrieval’ specialist.”

“What a remarkable coincidence!” Quiggold said unconvincingly. “As you may imagine, there are many in the Outer Rim who would style themselves as such, though the Martinet crew’s skills and talents are unrivaled.”

“Oh? Tell me about this crew,” Maree said darkly.

“All in good time,” Quiggold chuckled, sounding slightly apprehensive at her tone. “Of course, the captain understands that you might hesitate to leave your distinguished and safe position at the Archive, not to mention your lovely flat, especially given the danger and excitement of the Outer Rim territories.”

Maree’s jaw twitched, but she said nothing.

Quiggold forged ahead. “And so, we have an additional incentive to offer you, knowing your interest in the Clone Wars.”

Against her better judgment, Maree asked, “And what incentive would that be?”

“We have recently acquired extensive intelligence regarding as-yet untouched, unexplored Separatist bases.”

“How very convenient for you,” Maree said.

“Think of the scholarly potential, Dr. Finnall,” Quiggold said raptly. “Dozens of Separatist outposts that have never been excavated by archaeologists or historians. Imagine the advancements in knowledge you could contribute to your field! The prestige!”

“Imagine,” Maree said in the driest voice possible.

“Ah, but perhaps you doubt the authenticity of our intel. Allow me to assure you that our source is of utmost integrity and trustworthiness.”

“Is he?” Maree asked in a forbidding tone. “And is this ‘source’ aware of the purpose of your visit today?”

Quiggold exchanged a speaking look with the impassive captain. “Er… I… He…”

Maree sighed. “You were just going to ambush him with me, weren’t you?”

“‘Ambush’ is such a strong word,” Quiggold began.

“Oh, were you thinking of presenting me on a silver platter instead?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Has it occurred to you that you don’t know anything about me? I could be a vibroaxe murderer, for all you know.”

“Are you?” Quiggold asked, intrigued.

“No, but that is exactly what a vibroaxe murderer would say,” Maree snapped.

Quiggold gaped, speechless for once.

“To be clear,” Maree said, “you want me to resign my position, sell my home, and run away with a crew of pirates—”

“Asset retrieval specialists!” Quiggold interjected. 

“—to bank my entire future on a man who doesn’t even know my favorite color! You want me to do all of this on the off chance that Kix actually wants me, and you didn’t even ask him first?” Maree demanded.

“He wants you.” The gravelly voice came from the captain—the first words he’d spoken since his arrival.

Maree took several steadying breaths, counted to ten, and then replied. “You must be very certain of that to have come all this way. This definitely isn’t just some half-baked matchmaking scheme to get your resident clone trooper laid.”

Quiggold and Ithano exchanged another look.

“Thank you for the offer, Captain,” Maree said crisply. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a rather full schedule today. Please feel free to explore the library on your way out. Good day.”

Quiggold opened and closed his mouth several times as he hustled out of Maree’s office. Ithano stood quietly and approached her desk, dropping a commlink in front of her before departing. Maree barely resisted the urge to fling it after him. After they had disappeared down the hallway, Maree slapped the control to close her door, buried her face in a throw pillow, and let out a frustrated yell.

She had no meetings scheduled for the day, which was fortunate, as it gave her plenty of opportunities to vent her rage. She locked her office and refused to answer any comms or messages, instead burying herself in building an evidence file for her latest Judiciary assignment. By the end of her workday, she was drenched in sweat and ready for a stiff drink.

Not Pamarthen Port in a Storm, though.

As she pushed out of the staff entrance, she was accosted by an unfamiliar feminine voice.

“You know, for a Clone Wars expert, you sure don’t know shit about clones.”

Maree’s eye twitched. She turned to see a gorgeous red Twi’lek with a mechanical arm leaning against the building.

“And you are?” Maree asked.

“Call me Reveth,” the woman said.

“Is that your name?” Maree asked, in no mood to deal with any more pirate shenanigans.

The Twi’lek stared her down for a moment, but at last she relented. “Yes.”

“All right, Reveth. Enlighten me. What am I missing about clones?”

Reveth shoved herself off the building and sauntered over to Maree. “Walk with me.”

“Technically, you are walking with me,” Maree said with some acerbity, resuming her pace.

“The thing about clones is,” Reveth said, paying no attention to Maree’s petty interruption, “they spent their whole lives being told they had no value and they didn’t deserve nothing.”

“Thank you for that groundbreaking insight,” Maree said. She winced, instantly regretting the peevish note in her voice.

“And after hearing that every single day from the minute they slid out of the tube, it was—is—hard for them to believe any different.”

“You’re saying Kix doesn’t believe he deserves to be with someone.”

“I’m saying it’ll be a cold day in every Sith hell before that man asks for something for his own.”

“I understand,” Maree said with a sigh. “But it’s not that simple. Kix has never been allowed to choose his own path. His entire existence was dictated by the Republic. I can’t just force myself into his life. I won’t take that choice away from him.”

The Twi’lek eyed Maree with something akin to respect. “But if he was to ask, what would you say?”

Maree walked silently for a moment.

“I—I’m—not sure,” she stammered.

“You’re scared,” Reveth accused. “You talk a big game about being so noble and letting Kix choose, but you’re just hiding behind that excuse so you don’t have to go after what you want and risk losing your comfortable little life here.”

“Stars, have you been talking to Valsi?” Maree asked, taken aback. 

“Who’s Valsi?” Reveth asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maree snapped. “And how would you know what I want, anyway? You don’t know me.”

“Top of your class at the University of Coruscant,” Reveth said. “Senior editor of the University Journal of Military History. Received full tenure at the Archive two years ago—congratulations.”

“That’s all public record,” Maree said. “Anyone with access to the Holonet can find my CV.”

“In the past seven years, you have submitted nineteen proposals for field research in the Outer Rim territories. All of them were denied.”

Maree stared. “How did you know that?”

Reveth continued as though Maree hadn’t interrupted. “They gave different reasons each time, but they blamed most of them on funding or security concerns.”

“I know,” Maree said, exasperated. “I read them.”

Reveth smirked. “But I doubt you got to read the internal message that the Archive director sent after your sixth submission, ordering the outreach department to reject any expedition proposals that you submitted.”

Maree stumbled to a halt. Her heart began to thump uncomfortably, and her palms grew damp.

“What?” she asked dumbly. “Why?”

Reveth gave her a sympathetic look. “The memo said the work you do was too valuable to the New Republic to let you out of the Archive. Something about a ‘devastating loss to the Judiciary.’ They clipped your wings so you wouldn’t realize they had you in a cage all along.”

Maree felt sick. All this time, she’d thought that she was the problem—that her proposals were not robust or compelling enough to secure funding; that her research was too esoteric. So she’d worked longer hours, expanded her scholarship into fields outside her interests, sat on committees, mentored fledgling archivists, attended every Maker-forsaken gala and benefit the Library threw, supported her colleagues in the hope that they would someday return the favor. And in the end, all that effort was the very thing that hamstrung her. She’d made herself indispensable at the expense of her own ambitions, trapped in a cycle of her own making.

“Hey, breathe,” Reveth said, nudging Maree’s shoulder. “Don’t want you passing out on me.”

“How did you learn all of this?” Maree demanded.

“Every pirate crew needs a decent slicer,” Reveth said. “How do you think Kix got a ticket to the gala?”

“Oh, my gods, the restaurant,” Maree said. “That was you? That was the worst meal of my life!”

“Let’s not get caught up in the details,” Reveth said hastily. “Remember, it’s your employer that deserves your rage. You know, the one that’s been gaslighting and undermining you for years.”

“I can be angry about two things at once,” Maree said. “I’m an excellent multitasker.”

“But you’re more angry at them, right?” Reveth said. “Besides, I can make it up to you by buying you an actual dinner. I’ve heard you get a little cranky when you’re hungry.”

Maree gave her a suspicious look. “Are you sure you haven’t been talking to Valsi?”

“Nope, that was from your interns’ group holomessage chat.”

“What else did they say?” Maree asked, instantly distracted.

“Come on, I’ll tell you over a nerfburger.”

Maree called in sick the next day, and the two days after. Late in the afternoon on the third day, she holocalled Valsi. “Hey, are you free tonight? I need to talk.”

Valsi tilted her head to take in Maree’s disheveled appearance. “You look terrible. You must be really sick. Are you contagious?”

“No. Gods, at least I hope not,” Maree said devoutly. “I’m not actually sick. I just needed some time to think.”

“Ugh, an acute case of soul-searching! That sounds serious. Maybe even fatal. I’m supposed to have dinner with Tane tonight, but I’ll reschedule,” Valsi said.

Guilt immediately assaulted Maree. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be there at 6. Is this a sober kind of conversation, or a whiskey kind of conversation?”

“Definitely whiskey,” Maree sighed, feeling better already.

Valsi burst through the door right on time and flopped dramatically onto Maree’s sofa. “Thank the stars your air conditioning is working. It is muggier than Dagobah out there. Please tell me you ordered something delicious and unhealthy for dinner.”

The doorbell chimed.

“Your wish is my command,” Maree said as she opened the door to collect her takeout order from a delivery droid. “Glowblue noodles with shaak, sweet and sour nuna, and flash-fried zuchii.”

“I always knew you loved me,” Valsi said, reaching for the bag of food.

Maree grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Cheedoan whiskey before joining Valsi on the sofa.

“Ooh, breaking out the good stuff,” Valsi said speculatively. “Are we celebrating or wallowing?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Maree said.

Valsi stopped chewing. “Well, now I’m nervous,” she mumbled around her bite of nuna.

“Should I wait until we’re done eating before I start?” Maree asked.

Valsi swallowed and shook her head. “Might as well rip off the bacta patch. What’s up?”

“I found out something at work,” Maree said. “Something I wasn’t supposed to know.”

“Are you in trouble?” Valsi asked, concern evident in her voice. “Maree, are you in danger?”

“No, nothing like that,” Maree hastened to say. “Here, read this.” 

She handed Valsi a datapad that Reveth had given her, currently displaying the Archive director’s memorandum to the Department of Outreach. Valsi scanned it wordlessly, her eyes narrowing as she proceeded. 

“Are you kriffing kidding me?” she demanded. “How could they do this to you?”

Her righteous fury was incredibly affirming to Maree’s wounded soul. “Thank you!” she exclaimed. “For a minute I thought maybe I was overreacting, but—”

“The fact that you haven’t burned the director’s house to the ground says you’re underreacting,” Valsi said. “That karking mudscuffer!”

“Arson might be a bit much,” Maree demurred. 

“Only if you get caught,” Valsi said. “Speaking of getting caught, how did you find out about this? This memo is years old.”

“Ah, uh, a friend sent it to me,” Maree said.

Valsi raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What friend? How did they even know about it? Was it someone in admin?”

“No,” Maree said. “It—it actually came from someone who was offering me a job.”

Valsi stared at Maree in silence for a moment. “I didn’t realize you were looking.”

She sounded hurt, and Maree felt like the lowest scum in the galaxy.

“I wasn’t,” Maree said. “It was an unexpected offer from someone with a mutual acquaintance.”

“Are you going to take it?” Valsi asked.

“I don’t think so,” Maree said. “But now that I know about the memo, I can’t stay at the Archive. Not now that I know they’ll never let me go out in the field.”

Valsi looked stricken. “Damn. I kind of thought we’d always be together. You’re right, of course. But I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s not like I’m dying,” Maree said, forcing a laugh. “We’ll still get to see each other. I might even stay on Hosnian.”

“You won’t,” Valsi said with conviction. “You’ve always wanted to get out there and get your hands dirty, and you can’t do that in the Core worlds.”

Maree looked down, unexpected tears pricking at her eyes. “Damn. I’m going to miss you, too.”

Valsi sniffled and then grabbed Maree and pulled her into a tight hug. Maree rubbed her face on her friend’s shoulder to blot away her tears.

“Do you know what you’re going to do next?” Valsi asked as they broke apart.

“I’m not sure yet,” Maree admitted. “I have some ideas for private fundraising for an expedition, but it will take time. I might go spend a few months with my moms. Baba will have some good ideas for places where I could do some original research.”

“Wherever you land, I know you’re going to do something spectacular,” Valsi said. “I can’t wait to see it. And I’m so proud of you. Even if I think you’re a little deranged for wanting to go out and dig in the dirt and the spiders.”

Maree let out a watery laugh. “I love you, nerf herder.”

“I love you more, bubblebrain.”

Maree refilled their whiskey glasses, and Valsi held hers up in a toast. “To dirt and spiders, and following your dreams.” They drank, and then she asked, “So, need any help drafting your resignation letter?”

---

Chapter 14

Tagging:

@secondaryrealm @blueink-bluesoul @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420

[soranatus]

Star Wars: Scum and Villainy: Case Files on the Galaxy's Most Notorious (2018) - The Crimson Corsair oversees the loading of cargo | Illustration by Alen Rocha

[toastoat]

my late submission for day 5 of Ithano Week ! 

the meson martinet crew (minus quiggold bc i couldn’t figure out how to put him in human clothing....) in modern attire !

[kaminocasey]

Summary: You're the First Mate on the Meson Martinet, the ship that Sidon Ithano captains. A few years ago, you all accidentally found Kix, thinking he was the lost treasure of Count Dooku. Instead, you found an even better treasure. Now, you’re searching far and wide in the galaxy for the scientist who could possibly undo the progressive aging gene in Kix's DNA. You'll stop at nothing.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Violence, attempted SA, Blood, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow-ish Burn

Pairing: Pirate!Kix x (fem) Pirate!Rader

TAGLIST FORM | Sacred Woman Playlist

Sacred Woman

Not So Welcome Home

[captain-ithano]

Hello everyone! This is the official account for Captain Ithano Draw Prompt Week, a week to celebrate the red space pirate who shows up for 10 seconds in The Force Awakens and much more in a wonderful short story by Landry Q. Walker! 

The event will take place November 25th - December 1st 2018!

Below are the daily prompts: 

• Day 1:  Family // Relationships 
 

• Day 2:  Secret Talents
 

• Day 3:  Holiday // Vacation
 

• Day 4:  Unmasked Headcanons // Appearance Headcanons
 

• Day 5:  Modern Attire // Alternate Universe
 

• Day 6:  Fears // Angst
 

• Day 7:  Free Space // Your choice! 
 

Rules: 

1 ) The tag is #ithanoweek, be sure to tag your works as such when you post them! If you’d prefer, you can also submit works to this blog and we’ll publish them.  

2 ) Any media is allowed: fanart, fan fiction, music playlists, gifs, edits, etc.



3 ) Be respectful to people’s headcanons. 

4 ) Tag appropriately (e.g.: nsfw, trigger warnings, etc.) 

5 ) As always, no offensive/hateful content. 

If you have any questions feel free to send a message or ask to this blog. Thank you for the interest! Please spread the word!