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keldae · 7 years ago

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Drastic Measures (Chapter Eleven)

It wasn’t often that Jace had the chance to see the soldiers that made up the newest incarnation of Havoc Squad. Despite his fondness for his old squad, his duties as Supreme Commander usually kept him behind a desk on Coruscant. Havoc, in the meantime, typically ran through the entire galaxy like bats from hell — even more than usual with the Zakuulan invasion. But now, with the siege ended and the galaxy under a forced, uneasy peace that felt akin to sitting on top of a crate of unstable explosives, Havoc had been recalled to Coruscant, much to the displeasure of the current commanding officer.

Fortunately, this was one of the rare situations where Saresh’s deeds worked in Jace’s favour, provided that he acted quickly.

He was sitting at his desk when Aric Jorgan marched into his office and sharply saluted. “You wanted to see me, sir?” The Cathar had never been a jovial man, but now was even more sombre than he had been in the wake of Tavus’ defection, or after Major Kota had been injured badly enough to be permanently retired from active duty. Zakuul had taken a toll on everyone.

“Yes. Take a seat, Major.” Jace pressed a button on his desk to lock his office door, grateful that Marcus had taken the time earlier to sweep the room for hidden transmitters. “We have matters of a sensitive nature to discuss.”

Jorgan’s stoic expression cracked with a raised eyebrow. “Is this about Vik losing his temper on Senator Borsani?”

A smirk almost showed itself on Jace’s face. “No, although I do wish I could give him a commendation for that. Unfortunately, what I have to say does not concern Captain Dorne or Forex, either.” The ex-Imperial soldier had proven herself quite a valuable member of Jace’s personal staff — it was an idiotic decision on Saresh’s part to force her out of Havoc, almost as stupid as reassigning Forex to the Morale Initiative. “But before we go any further into this conversation, Major, I need your agreement to maintain operational silence. None of this discussion leaves this room.”

Jorgan’s other eyebrow raised to join the first. “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” Jace reached down into a drawer in his desk and withdrew a datapad, which he handed to Jorgan. “I assume you’ve seen this?”

“The Chancellor’s bounty posting and Zakuul’s Most Wanted?” Jorgan very nearly snarled. “It’s a load of bantha shi— uh, it’s a crock, sir. Even if Master Taerich’s still alive, she was far too much of a Jedi to be a murderer. And I’ve met Agent Shan. He’s the furthest thing from a terrorist.”

“And neither of them would betray the Republic, despite what certain individuals believe. If anything, they’re probably the Republic’s best shot at getting out from under Zakuul’s grip… assuming they aren’t handed to Arcann on a platter.”

Jorgan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you suggesting, sir?”

“Something that, to certain individuals, may be considered treasonous.” Jace carefully watched the sniper’s bright green eyes. “If we do what those certain individuals want in regards to handing over Master Taerich or Agent Shan to the Zakuulans, we’re throwing away what I believe are our best hopes. And I think you and I both know how well those same individuals will take our suggestions for an alternative solution.”

The Cathar slowly nodded. “Those particular individuals haven’t been fond of Master Taerich since she tore Sar – one of them a new one after the Makeb incident; they’ve had it out for both of them since Ziost. Everyone in the armed forces and their mothers heard about that.”

“It’s true. And the leader of these individuals would sell both of them for a scrap of flimsi to Zakuul.” Jace leaned forward over his desk and watched Jorgan as the soldier absorbed the conversation. “Now, if you truly believe your conscience demands that you follow the will of the Republic, I’ll respect that and swear you to absolute silence on this conversation.” He wasn’t going to mention that Marcus would have agents following the Cathar’s every move. “However, if you would rather see the galaxy free again —”

“I’m in, sir.” Jorgan’s fangs bared in a grin. “Where is Havoc going?”

That was a weight off of Jace’s chest. He gave Jorgan a small, conspiratorial smirk. “Officially, Havoc Squad is on leave as of right now; where you take your squad on leave is none of my concern. But if you’ll take the advice of an old soldier, Alderaan is lovely this time of year.”

“Alderaan, hmm?” Jorgan crossed his arms in thought. “You haven’t given us bad advice yet, sir. Any recommendations for where we should visit on the surface?”

“If I was still Havoc’s CO, I’d make sure to visit Organa Castle and catch up with some old war friends. Charle Organa’s an old friend of mine and still quite fond of Havoc. I’m sure he’d be delighted to meet the newest CO.” The fact that Marcus had intel suggesting the Organas were sheltering members of the resistance, if not outright joining the resistance themselves, was a bonus.

Jorgan slowly nodded, a smirk crossing his face. Jace could see carefully-restrained glee in the Cathar’s eyes. “The Organas are good people. Yuun will probably find something tracker-related in their archives, and Vik… I’m sure he’ll find some way to keep himself occupied.”

“Good. Your Thunderclap will be ready for departure soon.”

“Yes, sir.” Jorgan’s smirk widened. “And if anyone asks, we’re on Nar Shaddaa.”

Jace grinned. “Excellent. Dismissed, Major — good luck.”

Jorgan sharply saluted and departed from the office, his stride far more purposeful than it had been when he’d entered the room. Jace sat back down as the Cathar vanished from sight and sighed to himself. There was no turning back now. Treason against the Republic, or betrayal of your son and the entire galaxy… there was only one right answer.

“So, good news and bad news,” Kimble said as he took one of the seats around the table and glanced around at his surroundings again. Despite Sorand’s best efforts to accommodate his Republic visitors, the black walls and red banners proved disconcerting and uncomfortable for them. Still, he couldn’t change all the decor of his apartment on the outskirts of Kaas City. “Which one do you want first?”

Theron looked over as Xaja glanced back at him, then at Sorand leaning against the back of Shara’s chair, then back to Kimble. “The good news.”

“Most of what we need for the cure is available in Intelligence’s stores. Doctor Lokin’s bringing back what we need to create the serum in your brother’s laboratory downstairs.” Kimble had to glance over at Sorand at that. “Do I want to know why a Sith Lord has a fully-decked-out science lab in his residence?”

“Long story involving an ancient Sith artifact leaking mind-controlling poisons into the air. You really don’t want to know the details. Talos still gets headaches going in there.” Sorand shook his head. “I’m pretty sure the ghosts of a few of my old masters came back to slap me upside the head for that…”

“Ooookay.” Kimble shook his head. “It is all cleared out though now, right?”

“Yes, it is. Xalek and Ashara cleaned it out once I had the poison contained.”

“Okay, good.” Kimble nodded, then looked back at Xaja. “With what we’ve got onhand right now, we can form the base serum. Carbonite poisoning’s apparently enough of a problem that a cure has been developed.”

“But it’s not so frequent that anyone just keeps it readily on-hand,” Reanden interjected as he meandered into the room. “It’s the only thing that’s been confirmed to save a poisoning victim, if the serum is given to them in time.”

Kimble grimly nodded. “Unfortunately, the one component that we’re missing is the one that’s critical for the serum to work… and the reason why most victims don’t survive.”

“What is that?” Theron asked as he saw Xaja’s brow crease in worry. Under the table, his hand reached out and found hers, and he felt her cling back to him like her life depended on it.

The medic looked down at his datapad. “Quesh venom. We need it to create a chemical called dimalium-6. For a while, Imperial Intelligence was the only group that had that particular chemical.”

“Even then, there was never very much.” Reanden added; Theron saw the old spy’s mouth tighten like his knowledge had a sour taste to it. “Intelligence used it in the process of developing a mind control serum.”

“And you want to give a mind controlling substance to your daughter?” Theron frowned. “How does that help with the poisoning?”

“The mind control serum was one of the uses of dimalium-6. And I’d sooner cut off my arm than force a mind control like that onto anyone.” Reanden shot Theron a dark glare before looking back to Xaja. “In any case, Intelligence scrapped the mind control project years ago, and the chemical now been classified as a controlled substance, ever since the Hutts found out that it’s a spice enhancer.”

“Potential side effects include kriffing with one’s memory and affecting one’s mood,” Kimble added.

Shara lowly whistled under her breath. “So that’s what that osik is. It’s been makin’ rounds through the underworld, apparently it’s behind the newest and greatest forms of glitterstim. The Hutts have been makin’ a killing off if it on Nar Shaddaa.”

Sorand frowned. “So how does a potentially-mind-controlling spice enhancer help Xaja?”

“There is typically a barrier between one’s brain and blood,” Reanden slowly said. “Most human or humanoid species in the galaxy naturally have one. The dimalium-6 works by breaking that barrier — something to do with the properties of Quesh venom. It’s how it opens up the mind for outside controlling influences, or makes spice hit one harder… or we can create a derivative of the venom similar to the dimalium-6 to open up that barrier for treatment of neurological poisoning.”

“Which is why it’s the last critical ingredient we need for the serum,” Kimble finished. “Otherwise, what we’ve got is an expensive method of symptom control that really won’t do much to help you otherwise.” He sat back in his chair and ran both hands through his hair. “So, in conclusion, Xaja is the most high-maintenance lady, Jedi or otherwise, that any of us have ever met.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Xaja rolled her eyes, then looked back at her father. Her fingers hadn’t yet loosened their grip on Theron’s hand yet. “So if this is a controlled substance, how do we get our hands on it?”

“Affording the credits for it won’t be a problem,” Sorand mused. “Assuming, of course, we can access it. Dad, is there a way that we can get it in here without questions being asked?”

“Any other substance and I could just pull strings to get it here.” Their father tapped his fingers against his chin in thought. “Unfortunately, given how controlled and restricted it is, it’s hard even for Intelligence to get access to it. And it’s not something that can be traded for on Nar Shaddaa, when we need the venom in its unaltered state to make the serum.”

“I can get onto Quesh,” Shara volunteered. “And I don’t have to trade nicely to get it. Skadge is useful for exactly one thing.” She grinned evilly. “I can steal it and get it back here.”

“Without being caught or questioned?” Theron frowned. “If you’re already known to be Imperius’ personal favourite bounty hunter, wouldn’t —”

“They won’t see me. They’re just gonna see a hulking brute of a Houk bashing heads until he gets it and then lighting out.” Shara’s grin got wider. “Like I said, Skadge is useful for one thing.”

“Well, two, if we count the meat-shield usage,” Sorand commented.

“Good point, cyar’ika.” Shara beamed up at the Sith, then looked back at the rest of the conspirators. “What’s the deadline for getting the venom back into your hands, Doc?”

“The sooner the better, obviously,” Kimble said. He glanced at Xaja, then at his datapad again. “With how badly Xaja’s slipping downhill, she might be beyond the point of saving in less than three weeks.” Theron’s grip back on Xaja’s hand tightened, and he felt his jaw clench in stubborn determination as he felt anxiety from her along their bond. Not happening. I don’t care what I have to do. You’re not dying like this.

“Hooo boy, and you’re gonna need time to make the cure when I get it back here. Jetiise, always making my life complicated.” Shara stood up from the table and paused long enough to kiss Sorand’s cheek. “I’m headin’ out now. I’ll letcha know when I’ve got the venom.”

“Good luck!” the Sith called after the departing Mandalorian’s back, then turned back to his houseguests. “Doctor Kimble, you and Doctor Lokin have full access to the laboratory — let me know if there’s anything you’re missing from there and I’ll get it for you. Theron, when you do inevitably get bored and slice into my computers, please just leave the files labeled Dark Temple or Spectres alone. You really don’t want to know.”

Theron had the grace to look a little abashed. “If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t planning on looking through your files. I’m planning on tracking communications regarding the hunt for us.”

“That’s fair. I’d be doing the same thing. Xaja, since you shouldn’t be using the Force here even if you weren’t sick, I’ll just show you where my library is. I promise it’s not all Sith texts.” Sorand looked around the room. “Is there anything else you need at the moment?”

“Nothing that comes to mind. I owe you for this, little brother.”

“Survive this and kick Arcann’s ass back to Wild Space where he and his ilk belong, and we’ll call it square.” The Sith came around the table and offered Xaja his arm. “C’mon, I’ll get you oriented with the apartment before I have to return to the Citadel.”

Theron finally let go of Xaja’s hand as she stood up, trying to be subtle about taking her brother’s arm for support. The spy watched as both siblings meandered out of the room, Sorand notably shortening his long stride for his sister. Without seeing them together, one might have never suspected them to be related. When beside each other, however, the similarities were clear: despite Sorand inheriting Reanden’s brown eyes and Xaja their mother’s green, they shared the same eye shape, the same facial structure. Their hair, also of widely differing color, shared the same thick, poker-straight texture, capping off the same slender frames… even if Sorand did stand almost a foot taller than his sister. This was all without taking into account their respective strengths in the Force. Korin had once even tried to describe the similarities between their Force-signatures. It was a description lost on the all-but-Force-blind spy. As they turned a corner, Theron could see they had the same smile, Sorand apparently having made some sarcastic joke that he couldn’t hear at their current volume to make Xaja laugh, and apparently succeeding.

Settling back into his seat as both Sith and Jedi vanished down the hallway, Theron rubbed his hands over his face. Xaja was scared, no matter how much she tried to hide it, and he was terrified under the brave face he was putting on for her. I can’t lose her, not again, not like this…

“She’ll be okay.”

Reanden’s hand dropped onto his shoulder as the old spy paused behind his chair. Lokin and Kimble were already leaving the room for the lab, talking between themselves about chemical components and the creation of serums and symptom management until Shara got her hands on the venom. “Lokin and Kimble are two of the most brilliant doctors I’ve ever met,” he continued. “Sorand will move planets if he thinks it’ll help his sister. And you know how stubborn Xaja is. She won’t lie down and die like this.”

“You’re not wrong,” Theron admitted as he looked up at the old Cipher. “I might even believe you, if you didn’t sound like you were trying to convince yourself of that.” He could see the stoop of Reanden’s shoulders and noted just how drawn and worn his face looked at that moment.

“She’s my daughter, Shan. I’m going to worry no matter what.” Reanden sighed and squeezed Theron’s shoulder in a surprisingly almost-affectionate gesture before he continued walking. “You have enough common sense to not do anything stupid while you’re slicing into the computers. Let me know if anything happens.” He lingered long enough to see Theron’s nod before he left, leaving the spy alone with his thoughts.

Closing his eyes, he reached for the bright point of light in his mind that was Xaja. I’m going to save you, no matter what it takes. I promise.

Jedha’s winds were cold, even in the middle of the Holy City, the maze of low-lying buildings acting almost as wind tunnels. Satele drew her robe tighter around herself as she walked through the streets to reach the Temple located here, feeling rather relieved that Darth Marr’s ghost wasn’t currently lurking over her shoulder. She had no idea where the Sith’s apparition had disappeared to, but it felt… wrong… somehow to even contemplate bringing him here. It was ancient, almost as old as the ruins on Tython, and had been more frequently inhabited since Tython was abandoned thousands of years ago — although now, with the Jedi all but gone, no Knights or Masters could be found here.

Yet the Force had guided her here to this location. The former Grand Master’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. From what she could sense, Master Xaja was definitely not on Jedha; and if she wasn’t here, Theron would have little reason to be. She hadn’t seen anyone matching her son’s description either. A spy he may be, capable of vanishing into the crowd, Theron wouldn’t be so heartless to not reassure her that he was all right if he saw her… right?

Not dead yet. Can’t talk, will explain later. Sorry. T. That was hardly a sufficient apology note for scaring one’s mother to death. Theron, where are you? Are you and Master Xaja safe, at least? No, that was a stupid question: nowhere in the galaxy was safe, not with that bounty on their heads. Satele supposed that safety was relative.

She let herself into the abandoned Temple through a side entrance and slowly walked through the corridors, brushing her fingers against the softly glowing kyber crystals set in the walls. She had come here once as a Padawan with Master Zho, and had been awestruck by the Temple then; even as an older, wiser Jedi Master now, this place was still beautiful and awe-inspiring. The ancient Temple was still a marvel, even if empty and —

Her blue eyes narrowed. No, it wasn’t empty. She could feel another presence in the Force — not light like a Jedi, nor dark like a Sith. Balanced, like… the Knights of Zakuul. On quiet feet, Satele crept further into the Temple, mouth set firmly at the idea of the Zakuulans in this place.

The Zakuulan in question was a woman wearing a white cloak with a hood, not quite pulled forward enough to hide her steely grey hair. Underneath, Satele could see white and grey armour in the style of the Knights, and a lightsaber hanging from her belt. The stranger had her hands clasped in front of her and appeared to be admiring the Temple, until she turned to see Satele standing at one of the corridor entrances. There were several long seconds of a tense silence before the intruder spoke. “This place is magnificent.” Her voice was lower pitched and quiet, but still strong — this was a leader among the Zakuulans.

Satele inclined her head in agreement. “It is a sacred site for the Jedi. It was one of the first Temples, and is at least as old as the Republic itself.”

The Zakuulan nodded. “You are — you were one of them?” Startlingly pale blue eyes glanced at the saber-staff hanging from Satele’s belt, then back up to her face.

“Yes.” Satele shifted her weight slightly between her feet. “What brings a Knight of Zakuul into the Jedha Temple and the Holy City?”

“Would you believe me if I said the curiosity of a tourist?”

That got a raised eyebrow and the patented Grand-Master-Shan-disapproves look. “Are the sacred places of my people now tourist attractions for yours?”

“No. My apologies, Master Jedi.” The Zakuulan offered a shallow bow. “There has been a call within the Force, one that will not rest. It has led me here, but…” She took another look around the room. “I had hoped to find answers in here.”

Oh, blast it. The Force nudged at Satele — this was who she had been led to. “Strangely enough, I also was called here. I had hoped to find news of my son and his — his partner.”

“They are missing?” The Zakuulan sounded concerned.

You would not be nearly so concerned if you knew their names. “Yes, and have been for some time. She went MIA during the war, and he… didn’t take the news well. I haven’t seen him since he ran off on some damned-fool mission to find her.”

“I am sorry.” Pity softened the Zakuulan’s eyes. She looked away from Satele and back to the ancient architecture around them. “… The Jedi were healers as well as warriors and diplomats, were they not?”

“Some were,” Satele cautiously acknowledged.

The Zakuulan nodded. Her facial expression shifted, hinting at a terrible pain behind her eyes. “I had hoped to find anything in the Jedi teachings for… for healing a broken mind. My son and my daughter… their father did horrible things to their minds, twisted them so that I can barely recognize my own children.” She took a shaky breath. “I would do anything to see them healed and restored to what they were.”

“I’m sorry.” Satele felt a burst of compassion in her heart for the hurting mother in front of her. “Their father is no longer in a position to harm them?”

“No. He was killed two years ago, and I still do not know if I am relieved or grieving.” The Zakuulan sighed heavily. “If I had known he would do that to them, I would never have…”

“The future is always in motion, and not even the wisest can see all paths.” Satele took a step closer to the stranger. “You could not have known what was to come.”

“No, I suppose you are right.” The Zakuulan blinked rapidly as though hiding tears, then turned back to Satele. “I am sorry — I ought to introduce myself. I am Senya Tirall.”

“Satele Shan,” the Jedi answered with a slight bow.

Senya’s eyes widened. “Not the same Satele Shan who was hailed as the leader of the Jedi Order?”

“The very same, while there was a Jedi Order.” Satele carefully watched the Zakuulan’s eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“… Not at all, Master Shan.” Senya inclined her head. “If it means anything… I am sorry for what happened to your people. The Jedi should not have had the fate they suffered.”

Satele nodded in acknowledgement of the apology. “There are enough of us who survived. The Order will endure — it always has.”

“That… oddly reassures me.” Senya’s mouth twitched in a small smile. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Knight Tirall.” Until you find out who my son is and who he’s with. “Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk than here.”

“Please, call me Senya.”

“Then I must insist on Satele.”

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keldae · 5 years ago

Note

☾ - sleep headcanon for Korin ☆ - happy headcanon for Reanden ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon for Xaja and ☼ - appearance headcanon for Sorand

☾ - Korin is a bit of an insomniac. He’s restless and doesn’t settle down well, so he’ll usually be up til the wee hours doing something. He has been known to be awake until dawn -- which is the only scenario in which he sees dawn. When he does finally go to sleep, he’ll be out cold for as long as possible, and he sleeps like the dead (unless there’s a problem with his ship. He has a sixth sense where his baby is concerned.). He usually has really vivid dreams, but not so much nightmares -- most of his dreams make him wake up, look at his ceiling, and go “what the fuck?”. He also lives off of caf and/or space energy drinks, which may or may not be contributing to the insomnia.

☆ - Reanden bonded with both of his sons when they were kids over mechanical things. He had an old speeder that he enjoyed tinkering around with when he was home, and often had Korin and Sorand “helping” and watching everything he did. They would also “help” when he was tinkering with old datapads and the like -- he may or may not have taught them each the basics of slicing. He also started teaching both of them how to fly the Shadow when they each turned ten (although Sorand still came along for Korin’s early lessons since they were always joined at the hip as kids). That knowledge of mechanics and piloting wound up helping both of them a ton leading up to and during the vanilla story.

♦ - Xaja does not sit properly in chairs if she can help it. Within about thirty seconds of sitting down, she’ll have one leg pulled up underneath her, and the other leg might be coming up within the next few minutes, or it’ll be propped up on another chair or a caf table. It’s not uncommon to see her sitting cross-legged in a chair, or sprawled sideways, or perching on the arm of a chair, or sitting on Theron’s lap if he was in said chair first. If she is sitting like a respectable Jedi ought to, it’s probably a Very Formal situation and/or she’s uncomfortable as fuck with said situation. (I’m pretty sure that the few times she had to have her ass actually on the Eternal Throne, she made damned sure to never sit in it properly, half to make Arcann roll his eyes, and half to spite the damned Throne itself and the asshole who sat in it the longest.)

☼ - Sorand’s faceclaim is Ben Barnes -- I’m thinking specifically the King Caspian look from Voyage of the Dawn Treader (even if I refuse to watch that movie after the first viewing because they fucked up the Chronicles of Narnia so royally, but I digress). He’s always been tall and lanky in my headcanon, somewhere around the 6′3″ mark, even before I figured out his faceclaim. Right now he has long hair that he keeps tied back (and will electrocute anyone who comes at him with a pair of scissors and a suspected intention to fuck up his hair. He’s as bad as Xaja is.), and he does sport a respectable amount of facial scruff that I can’t seem to get with the character designer in-game.

^ Yeah, that. That’s Sorand, down to the expression. And actually probably in clothing close to what Caspian’s wearing instead of Sith robes or beskar’gam. Sorand’s gotten a lot more casual with his clothing during KOTFE/KOTET, seems to like long jackets over robes when he doesn’t need to be wearing armour, and while he does still have some Sithly clothing when he feels the need to pull out the official scary “because I’m still Darth Imperius, bitches” attitude, he seems content to rock the more relaxed attire.

#thanks for the ask!#headcanons #Clan Taerich #are we surprised by Korin being an insomniac?#Reanden was totally training the boys with Important Future Life Skills #and it did wind up saving their asses a few times #pretty sure both of them can still fly the Shadow in a pinch #the thing about bisexuals being unable to sit normally is a thing right?#if so then I think it's proof Xaja's bi-romantic demi #sitting normally is overrated #says the Jawa who also rarely sits properly #I'm not saying Sorand is a diva with his hair #but he totally is #but he does rock the look rather well #swoon #pretty sure the casual jackets now are rebellion against the slave years and the Sith years #storyknitter

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keldae · 6 years ago

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WIP Folder Meme

Teeeechnically tagged by @inyri. I think everyone else I know has been tagged? If not, tag yo’selves!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Oh boy.

Drastic Measures WIP titles for chapters:

Leaving Tatooine

Arrival on Alderaan

Meeting [Spoiler!] & Co

Meeting [Spoiler] cont’d.

Debrief 1-3

Spydad meets Commander!dad (spoiler alert: Jace does not like Reanden. Reanden, naturally, has decided he loves needling at Jace almost more than he likes picking on Theron.)

The Shishkabob Incident 1

Arcann is Emperor Grumpypants

Everything Else:

Post-Nathema 1

Post-Naethma 2

Anxiety (So Xaja’s as mentally fucked up as I am, probably even worse. She’s been telling me about that.)

HC snuggles

Vay-caaaaay-shun

Encountering The Ex (Or, Xaja’s ex is a giant douchecanoe)

On Nathema Itself

Post-Nathema Fluff (Xaja, Theron, would you two shut up about Nathema already?!)

Tattoo

Explanations

Sacrifice Aftermath (or, follow-up to another prompt)

Prank Wars pt 2

Sick Day

The Rematch

Insomnia

Xaja’s Pet Droid (shit, I forgot this one existed. Or, Vette actually tries to get her a giant droid for her birthday.)

Ghostly Visitors (featuring Baby!Daenril! Along with the ghostly forms of Grandma Airna, Grandpas Ngani and Orgus, Uncle Marr, Uncle Thexan, and Great-great-grandpa Revan.)

Shipping

Contemplanys Corellisi (RP ‘verse. Mairen starts training Sorand in Jedi meditation, despite the little detail of them both being in Imperial Space.)

Exile 1, 1.2, and Start For Real This Time (Original fic that hasn’t so much as done anything in years)

New World (another original fic that might sometime breathe again?)

And then if we’re counting the to-start list...

Reanden meeting/holding baby!Xaja for the very first time ever (IT’S ADORABLE AS HELL SHUT UP)

Xaja’s first meeting with the Corellian Enclave and first realization of “hey now, I’m the daughter of a Corellian Jedi??”

Reanden’s less-than-great interactions with his father-in-law.

Gramps Drallig disapproves of his grandsons being A- Cipher-Nine-spawn and B- a career criminal and a Sith Lord. Definitely their no-good father’s fault.

Little snippets of Clan Taerich fluff before Airna bites the dust.

The incident of how precisely Sorand wound up on Korriban.

more to be decided

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keldae · 6 years ago

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Drastic Measures (Chapter Twenty-Five)

“Does anyone have any news at all on Dantooine?” Sorand asked the moment the call to the rest of the Storm system was secured. It felt unusual to be talking to everyone without Thunder’s disguise on, but it would raise questions if Imperius wasn’t seen communicating with the resistance he had joined. It still didn’t stop the Sith from feeling naked in the call.

“Nothing here, from Corso or from CorSec’s intel.” Cole raked a hand through his hair, worry visible on his face. “My contacts with the SIS and the Green Jedi haven’t heard anything either, although they’re raising hell to find answers.”

Vector folded his arms, a grim set to his mouth. “Nor can we raise Commander Malcom or his forces over the communications network. Doctor Kimble is frantic.”

“You think Doc’s frantic?” Hylo Viz jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Reanden, standing just beside her. “You know how snarly Imp agents get when they’re actually scared?”

“I can show you ‘snarly’,” Reanden muttered. But Sorand noted his father hadn’t denied being terrified. The Sith himself was anxious about Xaja and the rest of the Dantooine cell, to the point of nausea. He knew Korin wasn’t much better. Between Xaja and Theron, as well as Ashara, Corso, and Guss, there were a lot of friends unaccounted for that both brothers were concerned about.

“We haven’t heard anything either,” Lana spoke up, just off to Sorand’s right. “But we cannot sit on our hands and do nothing while waiting for news. What concerns me is how Dantooine was compromised, and what intel the Zakuulans have managed to accumulate on the rest of us. Corso alone knew the primary cell contacts and locations. If he was captured…”

“Arcann won’t ease up if he catches Xaja or Theron. He’ll slow down, maybe, but then come after the entire resistance.” Korin shifted his weight on Sorand’s other side. “We need a plan.”

“We need to be moving.” Reanden crossed his arms in thought. Sorand could recognize the shift in his father’s voice — he was delving into the Cipher Nine persona, shifting his focus to the job. It would serve to distract him from the worst of his fear for Xaja. “Assume the worst case scenario and that Corso has been compromised. Even if Corso escaped, I’m honestly surprised there hasn’t been any Zakuulan retaliation on Tatooine.”

“Join the club,” Korin muttered. “Black and I are taking a run up to the Star Fortress later today, but we’ll be moving the cell out tonight.”

“It’s probably best if this cell scatters,” Sorand added. “Less chance of Zakuul being able to track and identify us. Most of the Mandalorians will be heading to rendezvous with Mandalore. I at least will be heading your way, Vector.”

“To another planet with an active Star Fortress?” Cole frowned. “I thought you were smarter than that, Imperius.”

“Gambling runs in the family.” Sorand shrugged with a confidence he almost felt. “Normal space traffic in and out of Alderaan space is still ongoing, and if Arcann has two working brain cells to rub together, he’ll think twice before stirring up that killik nest with a Star Fortress attack. If we stagger our approach times, we should be able to pull it off.”

“We’ll be ready,” Vector nodded. “We will notify Duke Organa of your impending arrival, Lord Imperius. What of the other cells?”

“Scattering’s a good idea, but we won’t be able to budge at all yet, no matter what Thunder says,” Hylo spoke up. “The old timers here think they got a lead to where the Star Fortress bunker is here.”

“Red Light sector,” Reanden confirmed. “Way the hell in the slums. It might take us some time to pinpoint the precise location with our limited numbers.”

“I can help with that,” Sorand volunteered. “My cult will be delighted to—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Reanden’s surprise was obvious, even over the holo. “Since when have you had a cult?”

“Since about forever?” Sorand frowned. He blinked. “Didn't I tell you about that?”

“No!” A chorus erupted from Reanden, Korin, and Lana all at once, almost drowned out by the muffled snickers from the rest of the call’s participants.

“I could have sworn…” Sorand shrugged. “No matter. I can get you in contact with the cult leadership. Tell them Lord Kallig sent you, and they’ll probably bend over backwards for you.”

“How the hell did you get your own cult?” Korin’s brain appeared to have short-circuited, and he was stuck on the idea that his kid brother had a following of questionably-sane devotees.

“I’ll tell you later,” Sorand muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“So we’ll get in contact with this... cult of yours and figure out recon or sabotage on the bunker.” Reanden shook his head. “We can scatter quickly enough and still leave a backup if things go south. At the very least, Kothe will have to stay behind -- he can’t risk his position by leaving.”

“Our cell can scatter as well,” Cole spoke up. “With all the chaos on Corellia, finding one resistance cell is nearly impossible -- as the Imps found out.” He paused, allowing a smirk to flicker over his features. “We can vanish into the planetary resistance if need be. Leaving the system itself might be difficult, but I’m pretty sure most of my group can manage something if we need to rendezvous. I can’t leave because of CorSec, but I can keep a friendly hideout open here.”

Sorand nodded. “If you can move from your current locations, I would suggest Alderaan to regroup and make further plans beyond what can be safely discussed over a holo. We’ll need House Organa’s support.”

“Good a suggestion as any,” Hylo shrugged her agreement. “We’ll be along soon as the old men are done scouting the place.”

“Sounds good.” The call disconnected, and Lana turned to survey the brothers. “I’ll oversee the evacuation process. Korin, you and Corey are due to make your flyby within the hour?”

“Yep. I’m gonna go make sure Dancer’s ready to go.” Korin nodded and turned to leave, lingering only long enough to tightly squeeze Sorand’s shoulder before leaving for the hangar.

“I’ll monitor their progress and keep an eye out for the Fleet,” Sorand quietly said to Lana. “I’ll have an ear open for any news that comes through directly from Corso.”

Lana nodded. “If we haven’t heard anything by the time we reach Alderaan, I’ll send someone out to Dantooine to investigate. Hopefully they’ll find more than just bodies.”

“That is quite the story,” Malcom finally said as he sat back in his seat, rubbing his temples. “If I didn’t know better I’d ask if this came from some holofilm.”

“Believe me,” Xaja assured him as she wrapped her fingers tighter around a mug of caf, “we wish we were making this up.” She shifted on her chair in Malcom’s office, drawing one leg underneath her comfortably, and felt Theron shift his weight beside her in the next chair. Pain still lingered along the bond, but it was muted now after Elara’s medical treatment and a dose of painkillers. It now mingled with bone-deep weariness, and Xaja couldn’t tell if it was her own or Theron’s overwhelming her senses.

When she looked around the briefing room, she could see that same weariness mirrored among their companions. Master Satele, to Malcom’s left, looked more drained than Xaja ever remembered seeing before. But then, losing the fourteen members of the Enclave had been a painful blow, both to the resistance and within the Force.

To Xaja’s right, seated on the other side of Theron, Corso slumped over his own mug of caf, dreadlocks falling out of their bundle and hanging around his face. He was uncharacteristically quiet, lips thinned and brow creased. When Xaja focused, she could sense the fatigue and frustration in his Force-signature. On her left, Kira slouched in her own chair, gazing out over the rim of her caf. Only Malcom and Jorgan seemed to be less affected, but closer inspection still revealed the sagging, puffy skin under Malcom’s eyes.

The resistance was in fine hands right now.

Finally, Malcom sighed heavily and ran a hand over his scarred face. “All right, let’s look at options. I don’t know how long we have before Zakuul connects me, or at least Republic forces, to that fight. We need to get you two in particular underground ASAP.”

“And with the Republic actively hunting us down, and the Empire about as hospitable as Coruscant right now…” Theron shook his head. “We might be stuck with Hutt Space after all.”

“The Hutts would just as likely sell you to the highest bidder,” Satele said, raising an eyebrow.

“Funny,” Theron muttered, eyes darting to Malcom. “He said the same thing.”

Malcom narrowed his eyes at Theron, but didn’t make a retort to his comment. “We’re currently en route back to Alderaan,” he said. “I’ve ordered additional jumps to different coordinates to make our origin harder to track.”

“Doesn’t Alderaan have a bunch of Zakuulans on it, or in orbit?” Kira frowned. “I’ve heard they have their own fully active Star Fortress. If they see us fly in…”

“What are they gonna do,” Jorgan snorted, “blow the planet up?”

“Arcann’s smarter than that,” Satele interjected. “Alderaan is a veritable killik hive of valuable resources, civil unrest, and angry noble houses. He needs those noble houses to remain compliant if he wants access to those resources, which he won’t get if he stirs that killik hive. The Zakuulans are having a difficult enough time trying to make Corellia bow.”

Xaja snorted into her caf mug. “Good luck with that one. He might have better luck getting the Hutts to submit.”

“He did. The Corellians are something else.” One side of Malcom’s mouth pulled up in a smirk that eerily reminded Xaja of Theron. “To the best of my knowledge, only one Zakuulan has been seen planet-side in months, and she has resistance sympathies.” He looked over at Satele, brow slightly creasing. “She said she had met you on Jedha.”

“Senya Tirall?” Satele offered a soft smile. “I’m glad to hear she made it to the Organas. I had worried about her.” She looked back over to Xaja and Theron with a slight nod. “She is an outspoken critic of Arcann and had left Zakuul’s service when I talked to her. I do not predict her being a threat to you.”

“I’m taking your word on that, Master Jedi.” A warmth flickered through Malcom’s gaze briefly before he returned his attention to the meeting. He cleared his throat. “I can get you to Organa Castle without being caught, unless the Star Fortress can see inside of a Republic war cruiser. The last I checked, Republic vessels can still move to and from Alderaan at will,” he added. “Even if we are searched, we can find a way to hide you on board. Once you’ve gotten in contact with the resistance, we’ll figure out a plan from there.” He paused for a moment. “Unless contact has already been established?”

“Not since I got the distress signal out,” Corso finally spoke up. “My comm got busted in the fight and I can’t get hold of anyone on the secure channels. We’re silent until we reach Alderaan and I can get a secure message out to Cap’n Korin and Thunder.” He frowned. “Kriffin’ hells, Thunder probably thinks we’re dead.”

Forget Thunder, Xaja thought to herself. My dad and brothers, if they’re in contact with the resistance and got that distress signal… Beside her, Theron shifted enough to reach his uninjured arm over and gently squeeze her knee under the table.

“And I’m continuing to operate on radio silence with the resistance on Alderaan while we’re in transit. There’s simply too much risk of it being intercepted.” The former Supreme Commander shook his head. “It’ll be probably two standard days before we reach the planet. Thunder and their resistance will have to wait.”

“We won’t be able to stay on Alderaan,” Theron quietly said, exchanging a look with Xaja. “Chances are we’ll be around long enough to let Thunder know we’re not dead yet, but we’ll need to keep moving. Arcann might not deploy the Star Fortress if he knows we’re on Alderaan, but he’ll still endanger civilians to get at us.”

“Just where do you plan on going?” Malcom asked.

Xaja exchanged another look with Theron before answering. “We... don’t know. Not yet. I mean, we’re making this up as we go. But it stands to reason that, as long as we keep moving, it should be harder for us to be tracked.”

“As far as plans go, Master Taerich, that’s not exactly a great one,” Jorgan spoke up.

“No, but it’s the only one we have so far.” The fatigue and anxiety of the past week caught up to her and Xaja slumped in her chair. The knowledge that she and Theron had to keep running bordered on demoralizing. As long as Arcann is in power, she thought, we’ll never be safe, and neither will anyone else we try to hide with.

“We have a couple of days in transit to think of a more solid plan,” Satele offered with a faint, reassuring smile. “In the meantime, you should use the downtime to get some rest. One of you has a new injury to heal from and the other is still recovering from carbonite poisoning.”

Malcom nodded decisively and stood up. “We’ll reconvene before arriving in the Alderaan system. For now, you heard Master Shan: Get some shut-eye — you have a long road ahead of you.”

There was a scraping of chairs as the meeting adjourned. Xaja felt Theron subtly slide his hand down her arm to keep her near him as they started to make their way out of the briefing room. When she glanced back to see if either of Theron’s parents had noticed that action — considering Theron had been acting so cagey around his father — she noted that neither of them had moved to leave the room. Malcom had sat back down, and appeared to already quietly speaking to Master Satele, his voice low enough that Xaja couldn’t listen.

She shook her head and followed the others out of the briefing room. Elara had just arrived, and was giving directions as to where the refugees from Dantooine could get some sleep. “It’s tight quarters, but we can fit you into the barracks on the lower deck.”

“Right now, I think most of us are fine with any vaguely horizontal surface,” Kira dryly said, and got a grin from Elara. “Thanks. We really appreciate it.”

“Any time. We weren’t going to leave you to the Zakuulans.” Elara smiled and stepped away, Jorgan falling into stride with her as they moved off to check on the rest of Malcom’s forces.

Xaja sighed wearily and made to walk in the direction that Elara had indicated, but was brought to a halt by Theron tugging on her hand. When she looked up at him, he nodded toward an alcove in the corridor and lowered his voice. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.” Xaja’s brow creased as she eyed her partner, mind racing to try and figure out what he wanted to talk about. Had he known about her eavesdropping on his conversation? What the hells was Malcom saying about suicide letters?

Theron nodded and took a deep breath as if to brace himself. The words that came out of his mouth, however, were nothing like what Xaja had expected. “Something… something happened, during the fight in the caves… I think you need to know.”

Power blackouts on Nar Shaddaa, especially in the Red Light sector, weren’t uncommon. A series of rolling blackouts across the entire sector were a little unusual, but not enough to gain the attention of the Hutt overlords. And hopefully, they wouldn’t be enough to make Zakuul look too closely, either.

Reanden crept along a walkway with Kaliyo, following a young, pretty woman who had introduced herself as Kylee. She was apparently one of the leaders of the Screaming Blade cult — no, Lord Kallig hadn’t come up with the name, she assured an incredulous Reanden, he had just inherited it when he’d taken the cult from a rival Sith and hadn’t bothered to change the name — and still remembered the Sith with some strange mixture of awe and fondness. It was enough to convince her to aid the strangers Lord Kallig himself had sent. And really, she was much easier to deal with than her fanatical counterpart, a man named Destris.

The human woman paused before a corner and gestured with her head to Reanden. “The bunker should be just ahead, sir.”

“Y’mean where the giant-ass turret’s standing?” Kaliyo looked around Kylee and raised one brow-ridge. “The Zaks compensatin’ for everything with how big they gotta make things?”

“I blame the bastard in charge,” Reanden muttered. He also took a glance around the corner, then pulled back. “Nobody had any questions about that huge turret before?”

“Nobody who wanted to live, sir. Everyone who came around here got killed.” Kylee shifted nervously. “Folks still keep their distance from here — Cartel, gangs, mercs, even our cult members.”

“That approach is gonna be a bitch,” Kaliyo muttered as Reanden flipped on his stealth generator and stepped out to get a better look at the turret. “They got a full field of view for anyone approaching. Probably have infra-ed or proximity sensors for stealthers.”

“Likely,” Reanden’s voice muttered out of thin air. “Not a great angle for us to get a flyby from a ship, either.”

“Not unless you wanna risk killing a bunch of innocent people… or at least as innocent as you get on Nar Shaddaa.”

“That sounded strangely caring of you, Kaliyo.”

“Only because I know you got a thing about that, old man.”

Reanden rolled his eyes at ‘old man’ and turned his focus back to the bunker. “There might be a side or back entrance to the facility that doesn’t require going past the turret,” he murmured. “Otherwise we’ll have to sabotage that to get into the bunker. And sneaking up on that is going to be a pain in the ass.”

“There any way we can get underneath it?” Kaliyo frowned. “Maybe try disabling it from below?”

“Maybe!” Kylee brightened up exponentially. “I’m pretty sure I can get blueprints of this area.”

“Excellent.” Reanden returned to the shelter provided by the corner and switched his stealth generator off. “See what you can pull for us, Kylee. The sooner we can take down that bunker, the better.”

The shield protecting the Star Fortress skeleton in Tatooine’s orbit was gone, but that didn’t mean the station wasn’t a danger. Korin frowned as he piloted the Dancer toward the satellite, just getting a glimpse of Corey’s freighter, Kotyc, out of the corner of his eye. “Fierfek, this thing’s huge,” the Mandalorian’s voice came over the comms.

“That’s what she said.” Korin couldn’t stop from grinning as he swooped low under the fortress, even if his heart was racing at the idea of the station being operational enough to shoot. Beside him, Tee-Seven made a beeping noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

“I’m going to punch you again, burc’ya,” Corey muttered. “At least one of us is an adult.”

“Bah. You’re no fun. At least Tee-Seven thought that was funny.” Korin angled the Dancer downward; a moment later, he felt his heart leap into his throat. “Holy—!”

“What?”

“Okay, so actual grownup talk now… hells, it looks like they have their own sun in here.” Korin nimbly flew around the skeleton as Corey chose his own route around the station. “Is that how they’re pulling all that insane firepower?”

“Their own sun?” Corey sounded skeptical. “That doesn’t sound—” He suddenly went quiet, before letting loose a few shocked expletives in his native tongue as he regained his composure.. “Oh. I see what you mean. Shit, they actually have miniature suns inside the fortresses.”

“How the hells…?” Korin muttered. “I want to know how they’re making their own personal stars inside those fortresses.”

“Heh. I thought the title of Star Fortress was just the Zaks being dramatic as per usual.” Korin could almost hear Corey’s frown. “Making even a miniature star like that shouldn’t be possible. What kind of tech do they have out there?”

“It’s damned good already, just from the Fleet. This is marginally more terrifying.”

“At least these stay in one place… I hope.” Kotyc zoomed through Korin’s field of vision as Corey went high. “That shield they had on the planet surface makes me think there’s a glaring vulnerability in the fortresses, especially in construction mode like this. I don’t think there’s any space on board yet for lifeforms to be here.”

“Come on, the Zaks run everything with their droids. They’d have no reason to have people on board. If we found a way to disable all their droids, their entire society would collapse.”

<<Zakuulan droids = too many = overpowered.>> Tee-Seven beeped indignantly. <<Zakuulan droids = rude.>>

“Sounds like their humans, buddy,” Korin muttered as he darted closer to the Star Fortress for a better read on the shields. “See what you can pull on their shields for me?” He got an affirmative beep.

“Disabling all their droids…” Corey mused over the comm. “That’s surprisingly not a bad idea, coming from you.”

“What was that supposed to mean?!”

“You know exactly what that meant. I’m surprised the guy who thought flirting his way into a Zakuulan camp to get intel came up with a good idea.”

“Excuse me, that idea worked perfectly. I got intel, and I got laid.” Korin grinned. “A win all around. I’m just full of good ideas.”

“I don’t know how your brother hasn’t strangled you yet.” Corey sighed as he completed a circuit around the satellite. “Far as I can tell, they’ve got basic shields up, but nothing as good as what the bunker was providing. We get in with a quick enough strike team, we might be able to knock this thing out of the sky before it gets to be a bigger threat.”

“I almost wanna try infiltrating it,” Korin murmured as he dove dangerously near the skeleton. “If we can figure out how they’re making those mini suns to power the damn things, might give us something of an edge.”

“Sneaking on board a karking Star Fortress? You’re insane, even by Taerich standards.” Corey went thoughtfully quiet. “Plan for both, ret’lini. If we’re gonna do either, we’ll have move fast, before they complete it enough to pressurize. Otherwise, I think the next one we’d get a chance to take out is the one they’re putting up over Voss.”

“Rumour has it there’s another one over Hoth too,” Korin added. “Not sure how far along that one is yet.”

“Hoth? What the hell’s on Hoth that the Zaks want to keep contained? Wampas and tauntauns?”

“Hey, you ever get bit or chased by a tauntaun? Those things are vicious!”

“Did you try your patented flirting technique on the poor tauntaun, too?”

“Fuck you, Black.”

“Buy me dinner first.” Corey retorted. “Even if it’s a pity screw at this—”

Tee-Seven suddenly started whistling a warning, loudly enough to drown out Corey’s voice. “What?” Korin asked as he glanced down at the droid. “They’re targeting weapons on us? I thought their weapons systems weren’t live!”

<<Weapons systems = live now!>>

“Thanks,” Korin muttered as he dove sharply, the Force just warning him of the Star Fortress’ cannon fire. “Corey?”

“I see it!” Kotyc zoomed past to Korin’s left, dodging its own stream of ion beams. “So, shields, weapons systems…”

“And I’m pretty sure they’ve got surveillance and comms systems. All they’re missing is life support.” The Dancer angled sharply as Korin tore away from the Fortress. “Blowin’ one up might be easier than sneaking on. Dammit.”

“Sucks when I’m right, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, shut up,” Korin muttered, and could almost hear Corey’s grin. “Tee-Seven, how are we looking?”

<<Star Fortress = sending comm signals = communicating with Zakuulans. Dancer =/= jamming systems.>>

“I’m aware I don’t have signal jammers for a thing like that!” Korin retorted as he banked hard to the left. “Any updates from the ground as to when folks’ll be ready to haul ass outta here?”

“If things are going smoothly they should be about ready to send the first transports out,” Corey grunted, pushing Kotyc into a hard, spiralling dive. “With luck, most of them will be out soon.”

“Here’s hoping the Fleet doesn’t show up before they can get moved out,” Korin muttered. He shook his head and glanced toward the astromech. “Keep your ears open, Tee-Seven. We’ll need to send up flares if company does show up.”

#drastic measures #kotfe au #Theron/Xaja #I gave a perfectly good resistance network anxiety #you know Reanden's just about tearing his hair out with worry #oh sorand #maybe you should have informed your dad and your advisor and your brother that you have one (1) cult all of your own #little trivial details #Cipher Nine isn't always surprised by a bit of information #but when he is #he finds out his kid has a cult devoted to him #I suspect Korin may be scheming now #plans and scheming #will Theron ever 'fess up to Xaja about the suicide letters?#Will Xaja ever ask him about what she overheard?#we may never know #featuring more buddy-bickering with Korin and Corey #guest-starring @d6790's brainspawn #snark and naughty language and bickering: oh my!#Korin is getting as much use as he can out of stealing T7 #I wonder if there's a tag limit on this #this was supposed to be a ONE-SHOT #how the hell am I on chapter 25?#I blame Theron #all the shenanigans #Clan Taerich

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keldae · 6 years ago

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Profile for reanden or xaja :)

Since I’ve already done one for Xaja, heeere’s Spydad!

Full Name: Reanden Daenril Taerich

Gender and Sexuality: Cisgender, heterosexual

Pronouns: He/him

Ethnicity/Species: Human, Caucasian

Birthplace and Birthdate: Lavisar, 18 Welona, 31 BTC, 3684 BBY

Guilty Pleasures: Cheesey space!zombie holofilms. I’m not saying he has a hypothetical zombie apocalypse plan ready to go, buuuut…

Phobias: Failure, loss of control, losing those he loves, and mildly uncomfortable with heights.

What They Would Be Famous For: Alas, fame tends to be very lethal for spies. Although he is something of a legend in both Sith Intelligence and SIS circles.

What They Would Get Arrested For: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA he’s already been arrested more than a few times for various things In real talk, probably a million counts of homicide and some light treason. And if he and Mairen keep this up, there’s going to be a public indecency charge on that list one of these days.

OC You Ship Them With: @andveryginger‘s lovely Mairen Bel Iblis!

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Either his half-brother, Darth Maglion the Wrathy Asshole, or Agent Cotuomo, an OC Ginger and I found out has been his rival for years.

Favourite Movie/Book Genre: Apocalypse action holofilms

Least Favourite Movie/Book Cliche: Anytime a convenient solution happens to magically present itself right when it’s needed at the climax of the story. Or when the love interest/supporting characters/sidekicks get killed for nothing more than shock value.

Talents and/or Powers: Smarter than almost everyone else in the room and he knows it. Mentally trained to withstand the Force and any intrusions. Knows more than enough Teras Kasi to be dangerous. Can slice his way into almost anything. Has more Sith on his kills list than Jedi, and killed one of those Sith with a pencil. True story.

Why Someone Might Love Them: He’s an absolutely devoted single dad to his adult children. The few people he legitimately loves, he loves deeply. And some people are privy to the information that during the years he was searching for his sons in slave rings, he was making it a point to rescue every child he could find and make sure they were returned to their families or otherwise sent somewhere safe in the Core. Children have been his weakness since his oldest was born.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Besides the snark and the insults he throws out, and his love of getting on peoples’ nerves for the sheer hell of it? He’s ruthless, presents as a very cold and calculating asshole, and his first instinct is usually to kill whoever is giving him a problem. While he’s usually the smartest person in the room and knows it, he also has a plan to kill everyone in the room. And he never, ever forgets a grudge.

How They Change: Back in his days as a young Imperial Intelligence asshole agent, he was a complete asshat, and pretty much only staying alive out of pure spite to piss off his parents and half brother. The first person he actually felt love for was his first wife, Airna, and hell did she change him a LOT – step one was convincing him to swap to the SIS and Republic loyalty (although I suspect half his motivation for becoming a turncoat was to spite the Empire). Agent Snark turned into a giant puddle of mush the second he was handed a two-minute-old baby Xaja, and she went from loudly voicing her displeasure with being born to quietly settling down the second her daddy had her and he’s still a complete pushover where she’s concerned. He’s still a sarcastic, snarky asshole and is a master of the backhanded compliment, but he does let himself care about some people under all of that, instead of being completely cold and unfeeling and angry with the galaxy at large. (even Theron is on that short list of people Reanden genuinely cares about, even if he’ll never ever admit it.)

Why You Love Them: I’m a complete sucker for the caring single-dad trope, and being able to play around with that with this asshole who pretends like he hates everyone who isn’t his kids or grandkids is so much fun. Reanden also gives me an outlet to pour out my anger (anyone who’s worked retail can vouch for how ragey employees can get by the end of the day), and to say all the snarky insults that I can’t say to idiots IRL. It’s also a fun challenge writing someone who’s way smarter than I am, has a contingency plan for everything, and loves throwing people off-guard by acting unexpectedly (Can confirm, nobody expected him to be able to assassinate Sith without dying, multiple times). He’s the character who will do the dirty shit nobody else wants to touch, for the benefit of those he loves or the cause he believes in.

#thanks for the ask!#Reanden Taerich #OC questions

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keldae · 6 years ago

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OTP question meme: 3 odd numbers for Xaja & Theron, 3 even ones for Mai & Reanden

Oooooooh! :D

Xaja/Theron

3. Most Common Argument

Nine times out of ten, when they’re arguing, it’s because one of them has defaulted to the state of “#YOLO BITCHES” that they both seem to have and gone charging into a situation without any thought of self-preservation, and proceeded to make the other one have a heart attack.

Surprisingly, Xaja does more of this jumping-in-face-first thing more often, while Theron just makes his more grandiose and dramatic like blowing up a train.

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

Usually Xaja. She’s a very touchy-feely person and likes to be in close contact with the people she loves. She’s also the biggest snugglebug in the Alliance… so Theron’s gotten very used to lots of physical touch. XD It’s also something that seems to help with her anxiety issues, when she can feel Theron right beside her.

15. Who wakes up first?

Typically Theron. Spyboy is a light sleeper, and Master Zho trained him well for getting up at the crack of dawn every day. Xaja, when she’s not up from nightmares, tends to sleep like the dead, and if she had her way, would happily stay in bed until like 10 AM.

Mairen/Reanden

4. Favourite non-sexual activity

(They do actually have these!) Most evenings, they’re curled up on the couch together, with their beverages of choice in hand (usually Corellian whiskey) and reading together, whether it’s reports or novels or what. They also love being in the kitchen together – Reanden’s a big foodie and loves teaching Mai how to cook. ^.^

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

They’re both pretty good for this, considering they’re spies and it’s their job to remember details!

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

Sorand has been shipping them from the day he found out about them. :D Mai took him under her wing as a student while he was still in Imperial Space, so they’ve got a special bond. He’s unironically called her “Mum” a couple of times. Xaja and Korin have been a bit more hesitant with this, since they didn’t know about this being a thing until it was YEARS down the line. They both like Mai, but Korin’s worried that his dad’s trying to replace his mom, and Xaja only just met her dad recently in this ‘verse, so she’s not entirely sure she’s ready to share him with a potential stepmom yet, even if she has no memories of her bio mom. Honestly I think at this point Korin’s just being stubborn to piss his dad off.

Mai’s family, at the current time, doesn’t know that she’s a thing with who they think is an Imperial spy. But Ginger’s been poking at it for ideas, and we’re getting the feeling her family’s not going to give them the warmest reception at first. Eventually they’ll thaw out (we hope!). :P

#thanks for the ask!#storyknitter #headcanons #theron/xaja #reanden/mairen #trying to sort from fic 'verse and RP 'verse gets confusing some days xD

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keldae · 7 years ago

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24. Slow Dancing

This was going to be a nice, short prompt, and then Xaja kinda took things into her own hands…

She was thirteen years old – still too scrawny and pale for a girl her age, although she no longer looks like a wraith after her extended time in the Works. Already, she had proven herself to be a very athletic child, and showed promise in the Ataru katas – and if she noticed the one or two older Masters who looked at her and were reminded of another redhaired Jedi girl, this one from Corellia, so many years ago, she never said anything.

But not even she could spend all day doing ‘saber drills. Nor could she sit still very long without feeling restless and twitchy, and not even moving meditation helped. So Master Allende chose a more unorthodox means to help her student vent off the nervous energy.

“Step, step, hop, and turn – yes, perfect.” The dark haired woman smiled proudly as Xaja moved through the motions of a new, strange dance. “Now the other way. Good, you find your rhythm well, Padawan.”

Xaja curiously glanced at the older woman as she followed the dance steps. “Master, how does learning dances from your homeworld help me in my future with the Jedi?”

“You have a natural talent for it, young one. You find the beat more easily than others. I saw you performing katas to music like this already – let it not be said I don’t take inspiration from my students.” Master Allende paused, then winked. “Besides, who said that everything I teach you must be strictly related to Jedi education?”

The small redhaired girl grinned conspiratorially at her master, then went back to the fast-paced, energetic dance. This was fun, and she did enjoy it. And there wasn’t any part of the Jedi Code that said its students couldn’t dance, right?…

“I know Master Allende taught you how to dance in the style of her people.” Master Orgus’ voice, forever calm and soothing, flowed easily through Xaja’s ears. “She claimed you had a natural talent for it.”

Xaja nodded, just aware of Kira listening in. “Yes, Master. That’s not a problem with the Code, is it?”

“Not at all, young one. Most Jedi do know how to dance… although it’s typically less of the acrobatics and fast-stepping you’ve learned.” Orgus held out a worn, rough hand to his student. “… She didn’t teach you any formal diplomatic-function dances, did she?”

“… No, she didn’t.” Xaja glanced at Kira curiously, then back at her master. “Is this why you’re teaching us both today?”

“Yes, because Master Kiwiiks, as the saying goes, has two left feet and can’t dance at all.” Orgus grinned. “Who’s up first?”

Kira promptly nudged at Xaja’s back, making the older Padawan stumble forward a step. “I thought you weren’t fond of diplomatic events, Master…”

“No, but I can deal well enough with the dancing portion of those events. They’re not bad.” Orgus winked as Xaja found her hands being carefully guided– one on the old man’s shoulder, and one in his own palm. “This one is pretty basic, and you can probably get away with knowing only this one at most events. Just follow my lead. Left foot back, then to the side…”

It felt less like an Ataru kata and more like Soresu warmup steps. Xaja smiled and let herself relax into the motions, quickly picking up her master’s patient steps. This wasn’t what she’d learned from Master Allende, but no two dances were ever the same.

“Since when do they teach Jedi how to dance?” Doc leaned against the bulkhead and watched Xaja spinning through one of the dances Master Allende had taught her.

“Since Jedi started getting invited to diplomatic functions,” Xaja answered as she finished the dance and switched off the music with a frivolous use of the Force. “My first Master just believed in knowing more than typical slow dancing.”

“Slow dancing’s all well and good, but is that all you know? It and the solo ballet you were just doing?”

Xaja gave the medic a curious look. “You know how to dance, Doc?”

“Do I know how to dance? You kidding, Red?” Doc grinned and knelt in front of the music player for a moment, then made his way over to Xaja and took her hand. “Ol’ Doc can dance the robes off you, probably better than that soldier boyfriend of yours can. Does Kota know how to dance at all?”

“Oh, that’s gotta be something to see,” Kira dryly commented from where she’d been observing.

Doc very maturely stuck his tongue out at Kira, then looked back to Xaja as a fast-paced swinging rhythm of music started playing. “Okay, follow my lead. This one goes out, and back in…”

It was ten minutes of swing dancing and spinning before Xaja finally flopped on the couch with a laugh and started wondering if she could convince Doc to contract out for dancing lessons.

Officially, she was doing nothing concerning the Revanites, not until Theron and Lana somehow initiated contact with her again.

Unofficially, she was totally investigating this ritzy club on Nar Shaddaa for any signs of the cultists. Here, people of all factions mingled, forging cross-galactic alliances and rivalries behind fancy outfits and opulent displays of wealth. If she was going to find any hint of the Revanites, it would be here.

She glanced up as the music from the live band changed, and sighed in slight disappointment. It was a pretty tune, and she was pretty sure that beat was something close to what Master Orgus had taught her to dance to, but there was nobody here for her to dance with, not when she’d come alone–

A hand took hers and gently tugged. Xaja blinked when she recognized the silvering hair and dark brown eyes of the old agent. “Dad?” she quietly asked, surprise colouring her voice.

Reanden slightly shook his head at her address, dark eyes glancing to the side before back to his daughter. “Not here,” he mouthed at her before speaking properly. “You looked rather lonely.”

Xaja forced a light, casual shrug as her father gently set his other hand on her side and spun her onto the dance floor. “Hmm, didn’t see anyone interesting to dance with,” she answered, resting her hand on his shoulder. “What brings you out this way?”

“I was in the area and got bored.” Reanden smirked, the gesture eerily like Korin. He glanced down at their feet for a second, then back at Xaja’s eyes, a raised eyebrow indicating he was impressed. “Was dancing a normal part of your training?” he softly asked.

“I learned some basics, for being in diplomatic events like this. Everything else, I kinda picked up elsewhere.”

A sad smile tugged at the old spy’s mouth for a second. “Just like your mother. She was a natural dancer too.” He spun Xaja out away from him, then pulled her back in. “This was one of her favourite styles of dance, you know.”

“I don’t know, actually. I know virtually nothing about Mum besides the fact that she existed and was a Green Jedi. I didn’t even know that much until I arrived on Corellia.”

“For pity’s sake…” Reanden growled something uncomplimentary about the Jedi as he shook his head. “I have so many stories about her to tell you when I have the chance. For now…” He sadly smiled again as he gave Xaja another twirl, her skirts fanning out with the motion. “Yes. Definitely your mother’s daughter. You dance this as well as she did.”

Xaja couldn’t stop the beam of pride that made her heart skip a beat, pride at being at all like the mother she’d never known.

Xaja decided that some vocabulary differences were to be expected between Zakuulans and the Core Worlds. But she had thought that the concept of ‘small party’ would be pretty universal. Indo seemed to think otherwise.

“I’m terrified to think of what a grand celebration would look like,” she muttered to Theron as the spy settled his hands on her hips, letting her arms drape comfortably over his neck. “In what universe is this ‘small’?”

Theron smirked as he gently pulled her to a side of the dance floor, slowly swaying back and forth with her. “You should have seen the original guest list that I had to talk him down from. You’re welcome, by the way.” He kissed her nose as she groaned, then moved one of his hands down to touch her stomach. “Are you feeling okay?”

Xaja nodded and smiled at the care she could see in his hazel eyes. “Yes, I’m feeling fine. Whatever Dr. Oggurobb gave me for the morning sickness, it’s helping immensely.”

“Good.” He softly smiled, his hands shifting from her still-flat stomach to wrap around her back. “So, I’m taking it no acrobatic ballet dancing from you tonight.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I could probably still do it, but… I don’t really want to, not tonight.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can keep up with that.” Theron winked. “SIS agents do get a lot of dance lessons, but nothing quite that… complex.”

“I’m sure you’d catch on fine, love.” Xaja grinned. “You who seems to master almost everything else you try. Slicing, swoop racing, bickering with my dad…”

“That last one’s just for fun.” Theron chuckled. “I’m still surprised that the Jedi let their students dance.”

“If you knew how many diplomatic events we get sent on in peace times…”

“Good point.” Theron leaned down to nuzzle her neck. “is there another type of dance you’d like to be doing now? I can probably remotely slice in and change the music…”

Xaja shook her head and kissed Theron’s cheek, content to let her feet shuffle in time to his, her body lazily swaying against his, this dance less concerned with rhythm and more with simple, comforting proximity. “No. This, right here, with you… this is perfect.”

“Mmmm. You’re perfect.” Theron smiled and kissed her hair, then drew back to rest his forehead against hers and gaze into her eyes. Xaja felt her breath catch as the dance floor fell away and the rest of the celebratory party on Odessen vanished, the music and sounds of other guests fading to a dull mumble. In this little corner of the room, slowly dancing with Theron, secure and content in his arms… this was heaven, and she’d finally found it.

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