#narglatch

[tesalicious2]

Coruscant Guard headcanons-ish (mostly focusing on Hound):

There aren’t just massiffs

Coruscant has a lot of smuggling, including animals. Not only that but the Senators give them their pets to take care of (that is not a pet but a wild animal wtf)

But they end up with an assortment of baby animals that CAN be domesticated and do something with them

Quinlan started it when he handed a baby Nexu to Fox and said they were trainable and loyal. Fox passed this on to Hohnd and nugget was a part of the family since

Ever since then they got two more Nexu, both sticking with new shinies under Hounds command

Surprisingly they have one Narglatch, though Blizzard (dubbed by Stone) is rarely used. Often used for chases in the lower levels, able to chase and weave easier through crowds than a speeder (think Horses in police forces)

At one point, some 501st and 212th troopers found what they thought to be a massiff and happily dropped it with the Guard,

It was not a massiff and Hound broke many laws to get it to the Jedi temple and out of his hands fast

See they had found an Albek, a force sensitive creature that looks like a massif but is VERY aggressive and BERY untrainable, last Hound heard was that it was set free and is very happy

Another of the larger creatures that is used far more often than the narglatch is the Varactyl

Somehow a shipment of young had been smuggled onto Coruscant and were taken in by the Guard

Their ability to climb vertical surfaces and calm nature and silliness to listen to their rider made them perfect in the club districts; the tall buildings were close enough to jump between and had many platforms for people to walk and dance

They could weave above crowds and act almost like helicopters when chasing criminals, but we’re able to go into the crowds; only problem is that people had to get out of the way or be trampled

Hound and his infinite luck ran across a hurt Rancor with a shiny one night. Though they could not take the Rancor in, they sent it to the Jedi temple where it receives lots of love and treats from the younglings and troopers who visit

The Rancor serves as a guardian of the wing dedicated to dangerous artifacts and texts, and is watched over by the Temple Guard

AND AND AND

Spark dragons

ARF troopers ride them but due to fear, they are used to guard the prisons. Occasionally, they are lent out to other battalions with their riders

They are dragons native to Kiffu and can easily get their charge from the static electricity created by genorators

They were found as young babies and trained by the ARF

Quinlan was absolutely ecstatic and adores them, they’ve made a special attachment with him but prefer their troopers

On one occasion two were sent out with the Marine Corps, who were afraid as hell. Those troopers had a lovely time and many stores of scaring the ‘hardcore’ troopers

[dingoat]

Three of Pentacles

Upright: teamwork, collaboration, building  Reversed: lack of teamwork, disorganized, group conflict

[izzystizzys]

Echo’s world has gone decidedly… wobbly. Blurry. Fuzzy at the edges, and what-will-you-else. He can’t feel his fingertips, is his first thought. Kriffing overdid it on the glowing green shots, is his second.

“Holy kriff, Echo, that manhole-cover underneath you is moving!”, Fives exclaims, third. Or more like slurs into Lt. Jesse’s shoulder, who is himself moaning indistinctly into the Captain’s pauldron, who is in turn swaying back and forth gesturing at Commander Cody.

And it really is - the manhole cover, that is, once Echo stumbles off it with a shriek. Jumping up into the now open air with sudden force, steadying and then scraping across paveme-

“Are those kriffing hands?!”

In an instant, seven highly drunk pairs of fists and one blaster, courtesy of Commander Cody (the only one present who’s sober enough to be legally handling it) are aimed in a circle around the cover slowly being shuffled to the side, then the hands reaching up to palm at the edges of the hole -

- and are slowly being lowered again when two white-red painted helmets are heaved into view, along with chest-deep groaning and grunting. Two armored Corries collapse in a heap at Commander Cody’s feet, who stares down at them in open-mouthed shock.

Slowly, Echo blinks. Slowly, he raises a hand to snap his fingers in front of his face. No, still there. Slowly, Fives grabs for a piece of flank underneath his blacks and twists. Echo yelps, and slaps his hand away hard enough to hurt himself. “OI!”

“B’have, boys”, Captain Rex makes a brave attempt to slur out as he sways on his feet, still staring down at the trembling heap of armor at their feet. Whoa, Echo didn’t know they had those kinds of funky armor designs in the Guard. Very avant-garde.

“That’s blood, Ey’ika”, says Appo.

Oh.

Slowly, Hardcase raises his right foot, inching towards-

“Don’t even think about it”, Commander Cody snaps, and Hardcase’s foot whips back to the ground next to its companion. Fives chortles. “Yeah, genius, those are Commander kamas - they’d put you down in a second flat!”

“Why would two Corrie Commanders go crawling out of holes in front of 79’s, huh, genius?!”, Hardcase retorts, somewhat justly, Echo feels. Next to him, Commander Cody frowns, and kneels carefully. “Good question, trooper. Fox, can you hear me? Fox’i-“

Which is when one of the bodies - Commander Fox, Echo realizes with a shudder, The Marshall Commander Fox - convulses on the ground, and an arm rears up to nail Cody face-first with the back of a hand, sending him sprawling back into the pavement with an undignified squawk.

“Thorn”, the sad figure that is the highest decorated clone in existence groans, still faceplanted into pavement, “Thorn, I’m hallucinating Cody. Thorn, tell him to shut up.”

“Shuddup”, Commander Thorn heaves, loyally. Cody makes an affronted noise, braced back on his shebs. “Sdubid Codeh.”

Commander Fox’s visor scrapes against the ground with his nod, a sound that sends the surrounding vod’e cringing. “Yeah, you go, Thorn. You’re my favorite.” A considering pause. “Oh, kark. I need to call in medevac - Fox to Stabby, Fox to Stabby - the kriffing Narglatches are back on the lower levels.”

The Commander’s comm crackles to life, as he heaves himself over with a punched-out moan - oh, yup, that dark patch’s definitely not paint, and are those teeth marks?! On plastoid??

“I’m going to wring Senator Hliii’s neck, and then I’m going to twist him into a human kriffing meat-lasso to catch every last one of his little pets with”, sounds through Fox’s comm, who just hacks out a laughcough in response. “Pinging your location now. Where’s Thorn?”

“Pr’snt”, slurs Thorn.

“Concussed”, adds Fox, “We crawled out forty levels to behind 79’s, so no one would see us.”

Awkward silence follows.

“Uh, about that”, begins Rex, only to be interrupted by a deep groan from Fox.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me! As if Cody’s ugly mug wasn’t - WHAT THE KRIFF ARE YOUR KRIFFING ARC KARKHEADS DOING IN MY HALLUCINATION, REX?!”

“Shuddup, Rex”, Thorn moans bravely.

[valkeakuulas]

I'm curious about Fantasy Ploffe!

Okay, so. It's a plot idea that started brewing all the way back in 2020 when read blackkat's A Far Country and it inspired me enough that ended up up writing more than one three sentence stories in my War Stories collection. Jake Bartok's amazing fantasy Star Wars art has also been an inspiration.

Then I ended up talking about it with @ccinagalaxyfaraway in the comments. And plot started to brew. And then last year, instead of Kinktober I made a small writing pact to write 300 words a day for my chosen fic. I chose Fantasy Ploffe. I've written around 10k of it but since haven't done a lot since October. I might have to try that kind of writing challenge again to get things rolling again.

The plot is loosely based on TCW itself but in a fantasy world and the main characters are Jedi Plo Koon, who represents the Realms and knight Wolffe (Last Name Pending) who's known as Grey Varj in the kingdom of Mandalore. (The name 'Varj' is based on the pronunciation of the Swedish word "varg" which means "wolf".)

There'll also be other ships as well that are codywan and some minor clone/clone ships.

I've got notes both in written form and in doc files. I've searched how to place the banners belonging to the Mand'alor and the Five Marshals of Mandalore in proper order (please ignore that there's only five seats, it's just to remind me):

(Yes, I borrowed the whole Marshal idea from Tolkien, thus we've got Mand'alor. The First Marshall in the story is Cody since the Mand'alor's [Jango] son isn't old enough to carry the title yet while Cody's second in line for the throne [he be Jango's nephew] while Wolffe is the nephew of the Fourth Marshall [Alpha-17 who has other name in the fic]. I've made a family tree for these people, don't worry.)

The banners are based either on actual Clan signets/sigils but created a few on my own, such as the Fourth Marshall's signet which is a simplified version of the male narglatch's profile.

I even made a map using this Fantasy Map generator! :D

[sithfox]

Just over 400 words written today; I spent most of the day prepping for and helping my wife sell her stuff at an event. Tomorrow should be chill, hopefully, so I can finish up my pieces for days 6 and 7 of FoxQuin week.

Today's snippet is from my yet-unnamed piece for day 6, alternate prompt of "he's right behind me, isn't he?" Poor Fox is getting whumped so bad in this one. Feat. Slash, my clone medic OC.

Slash doesn’t let him be evasive. “Fox, you went by yourself to handle a goddamn narglatch without backup. If Thorn hadn’t come after you-“

“I know. I know, Slash. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Slash pulls a chair over to his bedside and drops into it, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Fox wonders guilty just how much sleep Slash has lost because of him. “Of course you weren’t, Fox. If I could, I would ship you off to Alderaan or something for mandantory psych leave.”

“We don’t have psych leave.”

“I know, Fox. But what we’re doing isn’t working. I thought you were doing fine.”

Day 6: +401 (ending 2388)

[kytra-and-tryder]

Dark Side Switch 24

this is the end! it's very self indulgent! but it's MY fanfic and I can do what I want

Tryder ducked and weaved through the crowd, finally managing to dodge into an unoccupied back alley. He put his back to the grimy wall as his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, his chest heaving to catch his breath. Slowly, as he relaxed back into the living Force around him, he realized he wasn’t alone in the darkness.

At that moment an Ithorian guard rounded the corner; though its Basic was garbled Tryder made out enough to know things were not going well for him. He lifted his hands, defeated…

Until whatever was lurking in the darkness pounced, making short work of the guard. Tryder’s eyes had finally adjusted enough to recognize the shape, blacker than the shadows around it. “Veraku?” 

The beast looked up, twisting to face him. Tryder nervously brought his hand up, hand loosely curled in the manner he’d been taught by his Master so long ago, letting the increasingly-familiar animal greet him at its own pace. He felt more than heard the sniffs; waited for his arm to be wrested from its socket; breathed a sigh of relief when instead the massive head lowered and nudged his hand. Tryder scratched behind the narglatch’s ear absentmindedly. 

“Well, I’ve found you. Now we just gotta get you out of here…”

((very soon after but idk how to get from there to here))((well i do vaguely but it’s sad sarah hours not actiony sarah hours))

The narglatch panted, laying down on the landing pad they had finally come to a halt at. The trio -- a Chiss, a Nautolan, and a Twi’lek -- dismounted one by one, the adrenaline high wearing off as they realized they were free of their pursuers. It was the Twi’lek who spoke up first.

“A transport should be here shortly. I’ve just let them know where we wound up.” She tapped a few last keys on her datapad((i don’t remember if star wars has the equivalent of smartphones but fuck it it does now)) before glancing up at her two companions. “So… what happens now?”

Tryder shrugged, glancing over at the Nautolan. “I assume you want to go home, Kytra?”

She glanced up from her examination of the narglatch, taking a moment to process what had been said. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” she replied as she turned back. She tried to not think about the fact that she and Tryder would be splitting ways soon. Nevertheless, it crept into her mind, and stung.

As promised, a transport ship soon arrived; though it looked like a scrap heap, it was large enough to safely carry both the Nautolan and her apex predator to the spaceport. The doors opened and Amalya bounded forward to greet the figure inside.

“Master Unagi, thank you so much for coming!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him as he stepped off the ship. Tryder, for his part, did his best to melt through the floor.

“Of course, my dear. A little adventure is always a good change of pace from life at the Temple, after all.” The Jedi Master chuckled heartily, glancing curiously at the Sith and her narglatch before turning his attention to his former student. “How have you been, Tryder?”

“I’ve been fine,” replied the Chiss, visibly uncomfortable. “Kytra, this is my former Master.”

The Nautolan glanced up, letting her hand fall to the hilt of one of her sabers. Veraku sensed her tension and rose to his feet behind her, the whoosh of his tail swinging side to side drowned out by the noise of the urban planet. Tryder stepped between the two parties quickly, reassuring “He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t going to help. Right, Master?”

The Quermian smiled. “Of course. Anything to help my former student.”

Kytra stood, obviously still wary, but she nodded politely at the Jedi. “I’m grateful for your help,” she started after a moment, each word chosen carefully. “Although I must admit I don’t understand why you’re giving it.”

Master Unagi smiled kindly at her. “A student of mine once told me that we must understand our enemy before we can defeat them.” Tryder glanced at the floor, a subtle movement in the corner of the Nautolan’s gaze. The Jedi continued on, “besides, I think you’d have made a good Jedi yourself, if your circumstances had been different.” 

The two stared at each other for a moment; Jedi and Sith stood each other down, waiting for the moment to erupt, as it had so often before. But this once, neither rose to the challenge. Amalya eventually stepped forward to break the stalemate.

“I’ve got your ticket right here, Kytra. As long as you’ve got your narglatch under control, the pilot should be able to get you to the Outer Rim. Just… try not to make a scene.” The Nautolan blinked before she turned to the Twi’lek, nodding as her head cleared. “Thank you, Amalya. For everything.”

Chipper as ever came the response, “Oh, don’t act like we’ll never speak again. Ask Tryder, I won’t leave you alone now that I’ve made a new friend.” She smiled brightly, and Kytra let herself smile back.

The Chiss stepped forward next.

Navy blue eyes met bright red ones, a thousand questions passing between the gazes that all went unanswered. Finally Kytra spoke. 

“I suppose this is goodbye.”

“I guess so.”

A beat passed, and then, “It’s been an honor, Tryder Flynn.”

Tryder inhaled as if to speak, and then thought better of it. Finally he replied, “It’s been an honor.”

She nodded slowly, turned, and trudged up the ramp of the shuttle, the narglatch padding along close behind her. Tryder watched quietly as they walked out of sight, and turned back to his companions. “So what happens now?”

“You could come back to the Temple with us,” Master Unagi offered. “The Council wouldn’t reinstate you, not fully, but I’m sure I could talk them into letting you join one of the Corps.”

Tryder mulled this over for a moment, staring at the durasteel landing platform between his feet. He didn’t relish the idea of joining the Corps; though the masters at the Jedi Temple had been quick to reassure the younglings that they were just as honorable and skilled as fully realized Jedi, everybody knew it was only for the washouts and the castaways, those who couldn’t live up to any strenuous expectations. Tryder felt -- no, he knew -- he was better than that. But what other options did he have?

“Or… you know, Kytra and I had a lot of conversations when we lost you at the Exchange, and it seemed to me like she was coming around to you-- to the Light Side, I mean.” Amayla glanced between the former Jedi and his former Master. “I bet if you stuck with her for a little longer, you could do her some real good. Maybe even get her to convert,” the Twi’lek trailed off for a moment. The Quermian stared at her curiously. 

“I suppose that’s possible, yes. I don’t believe that to be the best course of action, though. Attachment only brings us further from being instruments of the Force.” The Jedi Master turned to his former apprentice. “However, your path forward is yours to decide alone.”

Tryder stared blankly at the floor, turning things over in his mind. Was it worth it to go back to the organization that had kicked him out, tail between his legs, begging for forgiveness? Could he forgive himself if he didn’t? Being a Jedi was his whole identity; or at least it had been…

A hand landed gently on his shoulder, startling the Chiss out of his thoughts. He looked up and found Amalya watching him from an arm’s length away, her hand coming back to her side.

“Tryder. Go with her.”

The Nautolan and her narglatch had curled up in the darkest corner of the little ship. Kytra sat with the cat’s head in her lap, stroking it absentmindedly, doing her best to will away thoughts of the Jedi. She knew what he was going to do -- he was going to go back to the Jedi Order, serve in whatever way they’d allow him to. He was, and would always be, a Jedi at heart. Still, it stung, the thought she’d never get to see him again.

“It’s okay, Veraku. It was nice to get to know him. But he’s better off here, and we’re better off only relying on each other. You’re the only dependable one, anyway”, she murmured, more for her sake than for the narglatch, whose ear flicked idly in response. 

She didn’t glance up when the ramp to the little shuttle hissed closed. Even if the Jedi betrayed her, she had her sabers and her mount, and the pair wouldn’t go down without a fight. She was so focused on quieting the ache in her chest that she didn’t notice the presence behind her until the hand came to rest on her back. She turned --

To see red eyes in a blue face, creased ever so slightly with concern. “Tryder?”

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, sitting down next to her. 

“I…” she started for a moment, before giving up on words and wrapping her arms around his neck. The Chiss sat in shock for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer until he could barely tell where he ended and she began. They sat together for a while, until they’d both stopped shaking, when Kytra finally managed to respond “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“I was given a choice,” replied the Chiss, “and I chose you.”

[jackie-of-all-spades]

Buh... I figured reading through info on the 7 recognized lightsaber forms so I can figure out what bastardized homemade form my not a jedi uses would put me to sleep. It did not....

Ended up settling on it being based on descriptions of Form 2 but my girl holds a blaster pistol in her off hand with some techniques that are similar to Vaapad like it's swift flank.

I Have that Ahsoka jokingly comments after watching her for a bit that Sadia Rhan(the core name of my chiss) was seemingly creating a new form a "Way of the Narglatch" because it's "adaptive, ferocious, aggressive, often cold and by comparison still vulnerable to blaster fire."

[archeo-starwars]

[rangelost]

Gift for Terry Winter. Thanks for supporting me on Patreon!

[tesalicious2]

Sergeant Hound hcs:

He got his name before Grizzer appeared in his life

He was trained as a scout trooper on Kamino and was the top of the class, setting several records that are still intact

His name was given by the Mandalorian training him because once he was on the trail, he wouldn't lose it similar to a Bloodhound

Though he is seen as the least serious of the Coruscant Guard Commanders and loves to makes jokes, annoying the other commanders, and gossips with Quinlan when he finds the Jedi in a dumpster

He can be very serious and dedicated when the time calls for it

He is a CC and hasn't been promoted because of his behavior, and the fact that he would be much less effective as the head scout

He is often present in meetings and gives his opinions on matters

Nevertheless, his first job is tracking and Massiff Handling/breeding

He also monitors the other animals in his care, though he often leaves those responibilities to the animals handlers

He, similar to Thire and Stone, go off world often to escort senators and to assist other battalions

However, being the best Massiff handler in the whole GAR and the best tracker by himself, he is often taken by different GAR battalions/legions with Grizzer and other handlers to track criminals stuck on a world

Grizzer is a chaser, tracking people on the go and attacking/catching them

She can also do detect certain drugs however this skill is not often used

Massiffs are big and Grizzer is larger than average. When on her four legs, she’s at hip height, when standing she’s about as tall as a clone

She is a very good girl who always listens to Hound, bets are off tho if anyone else tries to handle her (she’s picky)

Tho massiff are classified as one of those dog breeds thats very loving and protective of family but can be dangerous to strangers, think like a Cane Corso or Neapolitan Mastiff

It is not uncommon to see massiff and handlers sleeping together, even less uncommon for them to be roaming their barracks off leash

The ARF troopers have separate barracks close to the kennels so it isn't a stretch for them to sleep with their massiffs

Massiffs get along pretty well with the other animals but prefer to be left alone, especially with the younger animals

During the 'winter' months of Coruscant some of the animals have coats if needed and the Narglatch, Blizzard, gets a cooler kennel during the summer

The Kiffu Spark Dragons (coming from the tropical regions of Kiffu) have to gets lots of water for their scales to keep their flex and strength

All the animals wear harnesses and leashes of some sort but they aren't necessary, they're trained to respond to all commands and are very skilled

The animals don’t entirely like the GAR troopers, since they smell like blaster fire and grime (usually associated with their chases)

It doesn’t help that their handlers scent has unease in it

They tolerate the Marines because their handlers don’t smell of unease while talking and they usually have treats for their handlers

The animals are okay with Jedi, though they don’t like Anakin much

[stagbeetleboy]

The Sujimis and Chommell sector are different sectors of a GALAXY and the Naboo and Pantora systems are completely different planetary systems yet Narglatch are native to both the planet of Naboo and Orto Plutonia.

Like are you sure they are naturally occurring on Naboo???

What does starwars mean a species of animal can be native to multiple planets in completely different solar systems??

How is an animal is indigenous to two planets? I don’t think natural distribution can happen between planets without the creature itself being space faring like purrgils.

It evolved separately on multiple planets? Are you guys suuure it isn’t nonnative to some of these planets?? Are you sure colonists didn’t bring them to one of these planets..

[dingoat]

Nightmare, wound, and hate for the OC of your choice :D

Ooof! I'm gonna go with Five here because he has a LOT going on that's never had a lot of tumblr airtime, hahaha.

Nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

Five has plenty of nightmares, though the most commonly recurring ones always centre around the death of his twin sister, which was a horrific incident that occurred on their eleventh birthday, involving self absorbed parents, a lack of supervision, and improper housing of their neighbour's prize show narglatch. This event, and the aftermath in the following years, played a massive role in shaping him as a person. He has never spoken about his nightmares to a soul, and even among those people who have become precious to him (Thirteen leagues above everyone, Crow working his way in, and then to lesser but not insignificant degrees, the squad of Ciphers he personally oversees) the topic of his family is entirely out of bounds for discussion.

He's not going to deal with his nightmares or the event that triggered them in any sort of healthy way for a long, long time. (He will begin to open up, just a little, after the loss of Ziost, but that healing journey will get severely stalled and regressed during the events that follow. He might get there, one day.)

Wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What’s the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

In general, Five deals with wounds of all kinds by completely closing himself off and doing everything he can to avoid displaying any sort of weakness, no matter how much he's actually getting wrecked. Losing his sister was intensely painful and traumatic, and his support network failed him horribly; so he learned to become completely self sufficient out of necessity. He's not good at leaning on people and accepting support from Thirteen has been a huge learning curve; just allowing himself to do so took a long time, and actually expressing any sort of gratitude? I'm still not sure he knows how to say 'thank you' in a genuine context hahaha. He also has a huge tolerance of physical pain but definitely met his match in Ahuska on the night she broke free; in wolf-shape, she used the Force to rend his arm from his body and that left him pretty incomprehensible.

In the future (post-Ziost) he suffers even more; injured by a monolith and passed out in one of the rifts until he was recovered, he's became effected by the Force-void Valkorion inflicted on the planet and it's presenting as a terrible infection that's slowly eating away at him. The more fixed he becomes on walling himself off and becoming the cold, critical Commander he thinks he needs to be is only giving the void more of a foothold and will kill him if someone doesn't whack some sense into him soon! (We sort of dip into these future events while writing out the main story as we sloooowly pick our way through KotFE/KotET, and as a result Five has become my canon Commander which I NEVER anticipated for him!)

Hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Five carries around a lot of hate, hahaha. Number one spot on the hate list is reserved for his parents (followed closely by his neighbours), all of whom he brought to ruin later in his life. His parents are disowned, discredited, settled in a retirement home and not permitted any independence. He's done everything he can to scrub their memory from his life (including completely renovating the family estate), and he battled Intelligence long and hard against using his prestigious family name to build a 'useful' public persona. Intel won that battle, and now he has very mixed feelings about his 'real' name.

He also harbours a good deal of hate toward Force sensitives and particularly the Sith, finding it outrageous that their whole society is built on near worship of these beings who are placed on a pedestal by a random chance factor of their birth. (The irony of he himself being born into money and prestige and all the privilege that has brought him is 100% lost to him, though he may yet live long enough for some of those particular pieces to click fully into place.) But he deals with that particular hate by, basically, playing the long game. For many years the driving force of his life was to climb the ladders and earn himself as much power as possible in order to have as much control over his life as he could, and to potentially start dismantling pieces of the Empire little bit by little bit. So he's learned to smile and bow and charm the Darths and Lords above him, he knows exactly what to say, to whom, and when, in order to achieve what he wants and needs.

That's worked for him.... right up until he fixated on a certain werewolf, and bit by bit it's all been coming apart at the seams.

[samwisetheawesome]

A bounty hunter displays his battle prowess, in this case, a fearsome narglatch. He's armed with a combination vibrosword/heavy blaster. The gauntlets are wrist rockets on the left and self-stabilizing grenades on the right.

Done before The Mandalorian came out.

[doodlebethel]

Inktober Day 17: Narglatch

Large cat like aliens seen in several episodes of the Clone Wars

[gffa]

➡ The Last Jedi - Bomber Command - Paige Tico’s Journal (Species of the GFFA) Written by:  Jason Fry Illustrated by:  Cyril Nouvel

I’m glad my sister and I have been able to see some of what we dreamed of together--and to learn that the galaxy is still an amazing place, full of heartbreaking beauty and wonder.

[kytra-and-tryder]

Dark Side Switch 22

It was a late evening for Amalya.

She’d been studying the complex traditions of the Alderaan people when the message finally made it to her; she expected yet another spam “you’ve won a free trip!” phishing attempt, but nearly squealed with delight when she saw the name. Her enthusiasm was quickly subdued, however, as she read its contents. “What have you gotten yourself into…” she murmured to herself as she typed a reply and sent it speeding its way back.

The Nautolan sat uncomfortably in a corner of the transport ship. 

Arms crossed, she hunched over in her seat, crates in the cargo bay that had been pushed together for the rare passengers. Sparkling eyes stared blankly at the floor.

“Kytra?”

Tryder walked into the cargo bay, having finished negotiating with the captain of the small ship. He sat next to the Sith, leaning his elbows on his knees, and waited.

“I don’t like space.” She spoke softly, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing. “It’s too big, too cold, too empty.” She shifted and pulled her legs up into her chest. “Too cruel.”

Tryder watched her for a moment before letting his eyes wander elsewhere. “I don’t think cruel is the right word. It’s impersonal, sure, but it’s not.. Intentional about it. Besides, the stars are beautiful.” She grunted an acknowledgement but didn’t reply.

Eventually Tryder asked, “So what’s your story, anyway? I don’t think you ever told me.”

“I don’t remember much. It hurts to try and think about it, so I just… don’t.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything, you know.” The Chiss glanced over at her, a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye. “You’ve told me about Veraku, so that’s a start. That happened on Sha’Vess, right?”

“Yeah. That was after I’d killed --” she cut herself off suddenly, shrinking from the memory. Yet Tryder caught a glimpse of a memory that wasn’t his own -- an arena built for sparring, bitterness at that cocky bastard who thought he was so much better than she was, the ease by which the red blade of a familiar lightsaber cleaved through ribs and muscle, a strange mixture of fear and pride -- before landing back in his own head.

“You killed your master?”

“It wasn’t on purpose! It just… happened.” The Nautolan was defensive, but she still continued after a moment. “It’s not like we hadn’t sparred before, he just… thought so little of me he got sloppy.” She sighed. “He deserved it, really, for misjudging me, but it still feels… strange.”

((doesn’t the force have like… mind meld prothean beacon something something powers because i’m using it))

Tryder sat in silence with her for a moment, unsure what to say. False starts flitted through his head – “he probably did deserve it” felt callous, “that’s awful” felt judgemental, “I don’t –” was an emotion that failed to go anywhere. Kytra was the one to break through his thoughts. 

“Anyway it’s not like it matters. I’m still Sith, and you’re still Jedi, and… well.” She shrank into herself, waiting quietly for the inevitable judgment, the verdict that she wasn’t worth the expansive world in her head.

Tryder had a different idea.

“Yknow, I used to think Sith were all hate and fury and fear, nothing but negative emotions sustained on their own adrenaline.” He glanced at the Nautolan, her shoulders tense, her head down. “And yet I remember, vividly, the first night you’d captured me. Not because you were mocking and cruel,” he caught the corner of her eye and held it, “but because when your narglatch came back from his hunting trip, the love you had for him was so strong I felt it through the Force.” Kytra lifted her head and looked at him. The two held each others’ eyes for a moment, before Tryder broke off, staring out the measly port window. “I didn’t realize Sith could love before then. That the emotions they chose to embrace could be good ones, as well as bad.” He blinked, and sighed. “Silly of me, really.”

Kytra shifted in her seat, her thoughts disorganized. 

Tryder woke with a start.

He blinked, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. He was still in the hold of the cargo freighter he and Kytra had hired --

Kytra?

His thoughts ground to a halt at the reminder of the Sith he’d grown so fond of, and slowly the realization dawned on him that the thing he’d been using as a pillow was not, in fact, a conveniently soft crate. He glanced down to find the Nautolan still sleeping soundly, curled up into a ball, his arm still resting lightly on her waist. For a brief moment, the Chiss was awash in simple contentment. 

All too soon, however, the persistent voice of reason demanded to know how exactly Tryder was planning on justifying flirting with a Sith Lord. 

((man idk how to keep going with this like i know but idk how to describe it so))

“Morning.”

“Is it really morning or are you just screwing with me?” Kytra yawned, shaking her head to try and clear it.

Tryder shrugged. “You slept better.”

She thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I did.” She blinked at the floor. “No nightmares, anyway.”

Tryder paused, debating whether it was worth bringing up that she’d been sleeping curled up against him. On the one hand, it had clearly helped. On the other, she was still a Sith, and that made her volatile. He thought she’d react well. But he wasn’t sure, and that uncertainty could lose him his life yet…

“How about you?” Kytra looked at him, her head cocked to one side, her expression benign.

“Hmm?”

“Did you sleep well?”

He weighed his answer for a moment. “I think so, yeah.” Kytra seemed to accept that at face value; he was grateful for it. “Anyway, I just spoke with the pilot. We should be landing on Coruscant within an hour or so.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I’ve gotten in contact with an old friend of mine.” “Jedi?”

“We can trust her, Kytra.”

“Are you sure?”

This time his uncertainty came across. 

“You’re not sure??”

“Kytra I’ve already told her everything. If we’re walking into a trap, there’s nothing to be done about it except walk right into it.” He sighed. “But she was a good friend, if not a brilliant Jedi. We can trust her. We have to.”

“I don’t like handing over my trust to people who haven’t earned it.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Kytra fidgeted for a moment. “No.”