#the greatest detective of coruscant

[bird-in-the-space]

Imagine being the most famous detective on Coruscant

You are the greatest detective on Coruscant and this is your life.

Warnings: Fox being annoyed with you, him kinda describing you as a snobbish asshole, some mentions of violence, assassination attempts, suiciders, reader using blackmail, and Palpatine being a warning himself.

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- After a life-threatening incident, you dropped out of the Jedi Order and decided to use your intellect and skills to become one of the most famous detectives the galaxy had ever seen. 

- You were a private investigator since you had problems following regulations and rules the ordinary police force uses, but due to your success rate and ability to uncover truths and bring criminals to justice. The Republic decided to create a contract with you and have you work with the Coruscant Guard, which meant working closely with the clones, especially with the famous commander Fox. 

- They first had doubts about you, especially when you were a dropout from the Jedi Order and suddenly became a big-shot criminal investigator. However, after solving a case or two, you proved your efficiency and worth of the reputation. 

- They started calling you in whenever they needed help solving a difficult case. Your intelligence and deduction skills were unlike anyone had ever seen, and your focus on noticing the smallest details made you a valuable asset despite your personality. 

- Commander Fox disliked you when you first met. To him, you were arrogant, childish, and disrespectful when it came to rules and social hierarchy. You loved testing his patience when you first met him, so he forced himself to tolerate you when solving a case. However, his opinion of you changed when you selflessly saved his brothers from harm during violent cases and he saw you show unimaginable kindness to the people of Coruscant. 

- Despite your disregard for rules and democracy, you were kind toward the poor and unfortunate. 

- You helped out those who struggled to make a life for themselves. You would be there to talk down those who considered suicide or crime, aiding them on a better path. You would be there to help the sick with mundane things or even help a child retrieve her toy or pet from a high place. 

- You would aid them financially with the salary the Republic would pay for your service and check on them whenever you had the chance. This made you well-liked among the people and some provided you with important intel when solving a crime. 

- This allowed you to be seen in a positive light and sometimes you took in cases free of charge. You even solved unrest through patience and talking, which Fox thought wasn’t possible since you had a love for insulting and getting a reaction out of someone. 

- Some people would describe you as the Jedi that should have been as you were more successful at keeping peace than the actual Jedi. 

- This would allow Fox to see you in a different light, and accept your nature toward the social hierarchy. Your sense of justice and finding the real truth would make him respect you and he would give up his views on you, even if you still teased and tested his patience. 

- You had no problem with him and his brothers being clones, you treated them like any other people on Coruscant. You were good friends with most of them like Thorn, Thire, and Stone. You also never hesitated to defend them from harm, letting Fox relax on your supposed arrogance even if you still boasted about your incredible intelligence.

- An unusual friendship would be born between you as you started working together more. Fox would watch out for your safety while solving violent cases and start counting more on your deduction as you uncover the truth. He would never admit it, but he would learn to be more patient and aware of suspicious details while working with you.

- You were one of the most talented detectives, but working with you would also prove to be one of his biggest headaches. You liked taking risks when exposing criminals and were incredibly reckless with your well-being. And unfortunately, you were good at causing havoc as bringing criminals to justice. 

- If you were bored, you would commit pranks that could be the biggest inconvenience or cause chaos. You would even use your force abilities to entertain his brothers or mess with the other citizens if they crossed you. Your sense of humor was also morbid as hell. 

- You were one of the reasons he got grey hairs. 

- However, despite your impulses for chaos, you were a trusted ally of CG. You never intentionally brought them to harm and sometimes you would assist shinies learning a trick or two when living on Coruscant. 

- You grew to trust each other and Fox never hesitated to come to your aid whenever your life was in danger. This caused some of his brothers to tease him for it. You returned that trust, backing him up whenever he needed it and not always testing his sanity. 

- You two worked well together, even though he wished you would stop endangering your life. 

- You lived in one of the upper levels of the city. You liked living in a cheap place and having easy access to the other levels. Outside your apartment was a tree you and your neighbors liked to spend time under. You sometimes meditate under it to connect clues and gain insights within your mind. It was a mental space that allowed you to focus.

- You never abused your force abilities but used them when necessary. You often relied on it to sense evil intentions before they were committed and used it to protect Fox and the others from harm. You might have left the Jedi Order, but it didn’t mean you would not use the abilities you were born with. 

- The Jedi Order would sometimes hire you to help with missions that required your skills and intelligence. You liked making your prices for them high and testing their patience which gives you an unfavored reputation among them. Regardless, you finish their missions effortlessly.

- These cases would allow you to have a lot of acquaintances in the Jedi Order and the GAR. You have no problem with them as you were the most effective detective. You would become familiar with most of the clones and Jedis who would sometimes personally seek you out to help with something. 

- Many people would come to you to help them in revealing the truth. You were excellent at discovering truths and lies, thus you would not hesitate to aid and defend them if they were being accused of something.  You would even put them in hiding if necessary. 

- You were not a big fan of the Senate but did not refuse service when some cases involved them or the senators needed your expertise. You became fond of senators like Amidala, Organa, and Chuchi, and would help them when they had interesting cases for you to solve. 

- This would cause less nice-willed senators to target you. You were not bothered even when they sent bounty hunters after you. It allowed you to gather dirt on them and expose them for corruption. This would be the most stressful time for Fox as he would be the one protecting you from these assassination attempts. You make it up to him by using the evidence you gathered to either blackmail or expose these senators. You enjoyed exposing them for their crimes, but sometimes you would use blackmail to make them act nice. You valued justice, but you were not fully above it. 

- Your reputation and skills would gain the attention of the supreme chancellor. You did not think of him much but knew he sometimes gave Fox and other CG a hard time. It was the only thing that made you not a fan of him. 

- However, throughout the war, you would start noticing strange patterns and details that pointed toward him. You would begin to suspect him and through the force, you would gain insights that involved him. 

- You first couldn't make anything out of them. However, you had a scent that something foul was happening behind the scenes.  

- You would be there to prove Ahsoka’s innocence when she was accused of murder and bombing and start investigating when the clone trooper Fives came to you and shared about the inhibitor chips. You will save Fives from his fate and begin investigating the inhibitor chips and Palpatine’s involvement with the Clone Wars. 

- Fox would be suspicious of this investigation when you asked him to join in, but when you get targetted by bounty hunters and bombers. He would become suspicious of Palpatine and aid you with the investigation. 

- It would then be a matter of time and fate as you unravel the mystery behind these chips. However, you were confident as you were the best detective after all

[thefrogdalorian]

Candles

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Even though Din insists he doesn't want you to make a fuss over his birthday, you cannot resist spoiling him in your own special way. Although your perfect day does not go entirely to plan, you are determined to make the best of it...

Word Count:  3.8k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: A few suggestive lines, mentions of grief/mourning parents. Other than that, pure fluff! ✯ Author's Note: Thank you @decembermidnight for betaing this one, I always appreciate your help! Since we don't know Din's canonical birthday I thought May the Fourth was a good excuse to celebrate... but you get it on Revenge of the Fifth instead! ☺︎ I saw a post from someone (can't remember who) that said Din has holes in his socks, it's a hc I hold dear and was fun to explore in this fic!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Din Djarin does not delight in being doted upon. You know this with as much certainty as two suns rise over Tatooine. 

Yet, you cannot resist your urge to spoil him on the one day of the year that is truly his.

Din's reluctance to be spoiled is precisely why you rose before dawn, pottering around the modest galley, gathering the ingredients necessary to bake a cake. You hope that even though Din is ordinarily a light sleeper, the energy he exerted in passion the previous evening will have sufficiently tired him out so that he sleeps in, for once. 

After all, he does so much for you and the big-eared, bug-eyed baby boy you both vowed to raise as a Mandalorian warrior in the small cabin you share on Nevarro. Baking him a cake is the least you can do.

Preparing a cake to celebrate his birthday is not the only thing you have in mind. Even though Din already declared that the greatest gift of all is your love, you could not resist spending a few credits to treat him to a small gift. The thought of surprising him with it causes a knot of anxiety in your stomach, but you try to suppress those fears as you begin weighing out the ingredients.

You focus too on the beautiful sentiment Din expressed to you, how deeply he treasures your love. Such words are a far cry from the hardened, battle-weary warrior you had first encountered on Coruscant. Din reported to your boss, Carson Teva, for his latest missions from the New Republic. The first meeting in that office had left you curious, if a little intimidated, by the hulking Mandalorian who towered over you as you quietly worked at your desk.

Din extended a gloved hand to you at the end of your all-too-brief conversation. When you took it and shook it, marvelling at the softness of the leather and how his hand engulfed yours, you were sure that you had felt a spark. You wondered whether you detected a hint of longing in his lingering touch. Whether he, too, had felt a tingle across his skin as your hands touched.

Almost an entire cycle later, you had your answer.

You smile when you think back to those early days. How Din's visits became more frequent and led to longer and more personal conversations. Your chats became less concerned with threats that plagued the galaxy. Eventually, they continued outside the parameters of the depressing New Republic office building where you once worked. 

Life with Din was everything you had yearned for and more. A boring bureaucratic desk job was never your desired lot in life. Din had opened up an entire galaxy of possibilities for you. He had brought you to Nevarro and given you the life you had always wanted but never expected for yourself.

All things considered, making a special effort for his birthday is the least you can do to attempt to repay the enormous debt of gratitude you owe to Din. A debt you are certain you will never truly manage to clear but are determined to try anyway.

So, rather than spending the first moments of light of Din’s birthday cuddling with him... instead, you find yourself hunched over the kitchen counters as pale orange light streams in from across the lava flats.

You hum quietly to yourself while you mix the carefully weighed-out ingredients, careful not to wake Din. Pouring the batter into the tins is a rather precarious manoeuvre and you are careful not to waste a single drop of the mixture. 

With the cakes finally baking in the Nanowave, you turn your attention to the mountain of pots before you. Upon seeing it, you wish Din was a little more flexible on his no-droids policy. Or that Grogu was awake. 

The kid has been known to use his powers to aid his parents with domestic chores from time to time, particularly if you allow him to sneakily eat a frog from his pond without his father noticing. 

Unfortunately, there is to be no help. If you want to keep the secret cake under wraps until you present it to Din later, you must get stuck into washing up.

You make good progress, carefully scrubbing away the remnants of batter with a soapy rag. So consumed are you by your diligent cleaning of each pot and utensil that you do not hear familiar footsteps as they echo across the hard kitchen floor.

You let out a yelp of surprise into the stillness of the early morning when a familiar pair of long arms wrap around your waist and a chin rests upon your shoulder.

“Good morning, ner riduur,” Din rasps as he softly kisses the side of your neck.

His voice is rough and gravelly with sleep, even deeper than usual. You gasp as he presses himself into you. It seems that Din has sufficiently recovered from the exhausting activities which kept you awake for most of the night. Until dawn was far closer than you had intended, given how early you knew you had to be awake to bake his cake.

For a moment, it is enough to make you forget the task at hand. 

Then you remember with a jolt why you are in the kitchen at such an early hour. You spin around in Din's embrace and vocalise your disapproval. 

“Din! It's far too early. Go back to bed!” you plead, keen for him to leave immediately.

Din responds by tightening his grip on your waist and continuing to press hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. It takes all of your strength to push him away.

"Please, Din," you whine, staring into his eyes, “I'll join you soon.”

Din sighs and then nods slowly, “Don't be too long, I'll be lonely...”

You exhale deeply as he turns to leave, pleased that Din is none the wiser about the surprise sweet treat. 

Unfortunately, the Nanowave has other plans. The characteristic ding lets you know that the cake is ready. Before you can respond, Din is over there in a shot. For the first time, you notice that he is wearing nothing except a pair of loose-fitting cotton shorts. His toned physique bared to you, muscles straining under his scarred skin as he leans over to take the cake out of the Nanowave. 

Din spins around with the cake cradled in his hands, the tin covered in a towel to protect his hands. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly confused at what you have been making.

“Surprise!” you halfheartedly exclaim, with a nervous chuckle, “Well, it was meant to be a surprise at least…” 

“Ner kar’ta, you shouldn’t have,” Din whispers, with no true sense of disapproval in his tone. His brown eyes are glassy as he smiles at you with such tenderness that you feel your chest tighten.

Din asked you not to make a fuss over his birthday. But you can tell he is deeply touched by the gesture. The emotion on his face is almost enough to distract you from the fact that your riduur is barely clothed, practically glowing in the soft golden light which brings the promise of a new day. 

Almost.

All frustration and disappointment vanished at the sight of him before you. Din is always stunning, but in dawn's soft, golden light, you are convinced he is the most breathtaking sight in the entire galaxy.

You take the cake from his hands and gently set it on the kitchen counter to cool. Although Din has seen the cake, he has no idea of the decoration you intend to adorn it with. Later. You can finish the cake later.

For now, those honey-flecked brown eyes and the expanse of golden skin on display are far too irresistible. You pad across the kitchen and wrap your arms around Din’s neck, pressing your lips against his. It is a show of intent. You groan in delight when he cups your cheeks with his large hands and deepens the kiss, tenderly stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. 

Icing the cake can wait. For now, there is something far more mouthwatering to occupy your time...

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Fortunately, you and Din slipped some clothes on before you drifted off after exhausting yourselves with your early morning lovemaking. So, when Grogu uses the Force to leap onto your entwined forms a few hours later after the golden light has turned to something paler and more indicative of mid-morning, he is saved from a scandalous sight. 

“Good morning, ad’ika,” Din coos, grinning widely in an expression which makes his eyes light up despite the sleepiness there.

Grogu chirps in response. His familiar baby babble is still only way he communicates with you and Din. Din nods and presses his forehead to his boy. Your heart soars as you watch the two of them interact. 

You wonder how Din understands him. You love Grogu; bonding with him was effortless. But their bond is something special, something which goes beyond words, a bond which you feel truly privileged to witness. Grogu saved Din in so many ways and made him into the man who is so easy for you to love today. 

“Why don’t you two get up and make something to eat?” you ask, yawning and stretching as you come around after the rude awakening.

“No special birthday breakfast for me?” Din asks, feigning incredulity.

“I thought you didn't want me to make a fuss?” you giggle, then add with a hint of seriousness, “I would never deprive you of a lazy morning of making flatcakes with your son.”

Din’s eyes flash with sentimentality and he leans over to kiss you again. Then, he rises from the bunk, chatting away to Grogu as he goes. You smile in their wake, so proud of your little Clan. 

You had an ulterior motive for suggesting Din and Grogu prepare something to eat, unrelated to your reluctance to find yourself in the kitchen again given the considerable time you already spent there this morning. While Din and Grogu go to make breakfast, it gives you the perfect opportunity to finish wrapping Din’s present.

Even though he said there was nothing you could buy for him, you still wanted to treat Din to something that would truly be his own. Much of his disposable income and free time is spent making your and Grogu's lives easier. Although you know acts of service are his love language, the thought that he would not have any gifts to open for his birthday is unacceptable to you. 

Mercifully, you had settled upon a present with surprising ease. You knew that Din needed nothing more than he already had to be satisfied, so the prospect of finding something small yet meaningful had seemed slightly daunting. 

Fortunately, the weekly artisan market on Nevarro came to your rescue. 

Din is meticulous in polishing and maintaining every part of his armour, especially the parts visible to the admiring eyes of others. Din does not neglect a single part of it. 

There is one piece of his everyday attire, however, which was noticeably shoddy compared to the rest of his beskar brilliance—his socks. 

They were threadbare and riddled with holes. A fact you had pointed out to Din numerous times, but the stubborn man still refused to have them darned. 

So, when you saw the deep red, thick socks at the weekly market on Nevarro, you knew they would be perfect, to the extent that you had purchased two pairs. 

You are sure that Din will appreciate them and not take umbrage with the gesture, that he will realise you are doing it for his comfort. Still, your hands tremble as you wrap the socks up in brightly coloured paper. You hope that the socks are as well-received as you have imagined they will be.

When Din calls to let you know that breakfast is ready, you stash the wrapped socks beneath the covers on your bunk and eagerly make your way to join them. 

Although you try to be present and enjoy the simple domesticity of breakfast with them, your mind is preoccupied with worries about whether the gift will be appreciated. The worry does not dissipate, remaining a leaden weight in your gut.

After finishing the flatcakes, you insist on cleaning up since it’s Din’s birthday. Even though you have done far more washing up than you intended, having some alone time while Din takes Grogu outside to his favourite pond gives you time to think.

You had planned to give Din the socks after you returned from a planned walk across the lava flats. But when Din and Grogu return to the cabin and are eager to leave for the walk, you can wait no longer. You want to enjoy this time with them, rather than being preoccupied with worries over how your gift will be received.

Din and Grogu hover by the entryway, clearly buzzing with anticipation for the walk. You are relieved that Din had not yet placed his helmet on, cradling it under his arm. The days when he wore it constantly feel so long ago; like they are from another age. Over the time you have known him, you have seen far more of his brown eyes than that dark T-visor. Yet, he still wears it whenever you leave the cabin. 

“Just need to use the ‘fresher,” you insist, excusing yourself.

“Alright,” Din nods. 

Instead of heading to the ‘fresher however, you scoop up the presents from underneath the covers on your bunk, taking deep breaths to compose yourself as you head back towards them. 

Din looks over at you curiously, shaking his head as he attempts to repress a smile when he sees the gift. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that he appears to be excited by the prospect of a present. 

“I know you said no gifts, but these are practical, I promise,” you vow.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Din says sternly, his eyes darkened like they do when he scolds Grogu before his entire expression softens and you feel instant relief. He adds affectionately, “But thank you, ner kar'ta. You are too good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you smile, leaning in to kiss Din on his stubbled cheek. 

Din nods and then tears into the brightly coloured paper. You wait with bated breath, anxious to see his response. For a terrible moment, he does not move. Then, your heart aches as his face drops. Din scowls at them, clearly unimpressed.

You open your mouth to apologise before Din plasters a grin across his face, a smile that does not quite reach his eyes and addresses you.

“Thank you, ner riduur,” Din smiles weakly, “Let me go and put them on right away.”

“Okay, Din,” you reply, your tone unsure.

Din hands Grogu to you and disappears off into your quarters. Grogu tilts his head to one side as though he is appraising the situation.

When Din is not quick to return, your concern is immediate. He had been itching to get out on the walk. Now that he is taking his time to put the socks on, you are certain something is wrong. Fear and guilt settle in the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t think he liked them,” you murmur, searching Grogu’s large eyes for answers.

Grogu nods slowly. 

You take another steadying breath in preparation to assess the situation. Despite your trepidation, you head down the hallway towards your quarters. The thought of Din being unhappy for even a second on his birthday unsettles you, especially if you were the cause of such an unwelcome emotion. 

When you make it to your room, the hulking silhouette of a Mandalorian warrior, with his broad shoulders slumped over in anguish greets you. The guilt is instant. You hover in the entryway for a few moments, cradling Grogu and pondering your next move.

“Din, did I offend you with the gifts?” you finally question as you set Grogu down on the bunk. 

Din sighs and shakes his head, turning to face you. The happy expression of this morning has been replaced with one of anguish. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you feebly murmur.

Din’s eyes widen in horror as he stands up from the edge of the bunk, instantly closing the distance between you and reaching out to hold your upper arms in his large hands. 

“No, never,” he promises, brown eyes darkened with sincerity.

You nod, shooting him a sceptical look.

“They, uh…” Din closes his eyes and sighs, clearly struggling with something, “They just remind me of something…”

You look at him, still confused by his evasiveness. You weren’t sure what such a simple pair of deep red socks could have done to disturb him so deeply.

Din opens his eyes, “Of somewhere,” he clarifies before he shuts them again.

He pauses for a few more seconds and you stand there unmoving, barely daring to breathe.

“The colour reminds me of the robes we wore on the planet of my birth.”

You swallow the lump which has abruptly formed in your throat, nodding at him to indicate you understand. He does not have to elaborate, to go back there if he does not want to.

“Okay, Din,” you say gently, wrapping your arms around his waist and bringing his head into your chest, “I can exchange them for a different colour.”

Din shakes his head, “No, I love them. It was just…” he sucks in a deep breath, voice quivering slightly as he adds, “A surprise. I try to avoid that colour at all costs.”

You think back to why you had been drawn to the socks. Perhaps your subconscious picked up on the fact you had never seen him with anything of that colour and wanted him to try something new. 

“They feel incredibly warm, the material is so soft. Thank you, it was very thoughtful of you,” Din smiles weakly. 

You can tell that something is still troubling him, so you boldly ask, “Do you think of them on your birthday?”

Din seems taken aback by your question but nods. 

“Before I met Grogu and you, when my heart was hardened and I rarely allowed affection in, my birthday was the one day of the year I would allow my mind to wander back there,” Din admits, “To think of them, of the life we could have had. Now I realise, of course, that if I stayed on Aq Vetina, I would never have met Grogu. Or you.”

Din addresses his son now, scooping him up and cuddling him tightly, “You are the best things that ever happened to me.” 

You feel overwhelmed with emotion as you look at them. Din presses his forehead to Grogu's for a few seconds, closing his eyes and relishing the contact.

Din opens his eyes and meets your gaze, “I have to let that place go. It’s not my home anymore. Not even this cabin is home,” Din muses.

You look at him quizzically, not following his train of thought. 

“Home isn’t a place for me,” Din whispers, “It’s a feeling. It’s the way you and Grogu love me.”

You are floored by the sentiment. That this once stoic warrior has such tenderness to him still amazes you.

“Oh, Din,” you whisper, cupping his cheek as you press your forehead to his.

Your arms encircle his waist. He brings you close with one hand and you know that he is drawing comfort from embracing you and Grogu like this. When you finally lean your head back, you detect a certain tiredness in those brown eyes you love so much.

“Why don’t you get some rest, honey?” you question, “Grogu can join too. It’s been a long, emotional day already and I want you to enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

Thankfully, Din does not fight you, conceding that he needs rest. When he climbs under the covers, you drop a tender kiss on both of their foreheads and turn to leave.

Before you leave the room, soft, even breaths indicate that they have already fallen asleep. The sight of Grogu’s tiny head on Din’s chest as they nap together makes your heart swell.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The cabin is bathed in golden light once again, this time after the sun has set. The three of you sit in contented, companionable silence as you appreciate the full feeling after a good meal.

You utilised Din and Grogu’s nap to ice the cake and prepare a special dinner consisting of Tiingilar, a traditional Mandalorian dish. Despite your apprehensiveness at perfecting the recipe, Din approved of your attempt.

As you sit there, you contemplate suggesting another nap. Consuming a sizable quantity of rich food always leaves a certain tiredness. 

But there is still one important duty yet to be carried out.

While Din is somewhat distracted talking to Grogu, you quietly excuse yourself and stealthily prepare dessert.

Your fingers tremble as they did when you wrapped the presents as you light the candles. You head towards the table on shaky legs. You begin singing the traditional birthday song with accompaniment from Grogu, who tries his best to join in with various chirps. 

Din grins as he watches you. You notice with relief that the spark in his eyes has returned. When you finish the song, you place the cake before him on the table.

“Blow them out!” you encourage.

Din nods and leans forward to extinguish the candles after savouring the moment a few beats longer. 

The excited expression on Din’s face is soon made bittersweet, “I’ve never blown out my own candles before,” he admits.

“There’s a first time for everything,” you whisper, touched by the years of agony which lie behind those words.

You are grateful that shovelling the sweet dessert into your mouth gives you an excuse not to speak as you are unsure how to move on from such an admission. Din has been through so much. Yet, he is still one of the kindest, gentlest men you have ever met. You want to give him all the experiences the galaxy has to offer. To make up for all of the years of hurt. 

“Thank you for the cake, it was delicious,” Din appreciatively says after he swallows his last bite. 

“You’re welcome,” you smile, “I think Grogu enjoyed it, too.”

You nod over at your mischievous son, who has more of the bright blue icing smeared around his face and tunic than ended up in his mouth.

Din smiles as he places the plate back on the table before you. He rubs his belly contentedly and adds, “Thank you for making this my best birthday yet.”

“Of course, Din,” you shrug, “You deserve it.”

You are already planning ways to make next year even better.

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

[reilliane]

Dawning ⊱⊰ Heizou

A/N: Finally, finally! Angst! Yes! GRRRR YEEEES (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و This is fluff to angst, so, dear readers, it's a journey ahead of you!

✤ she/her - ✤ t/w: mentions of blood/death/murder ✤ words: 7k

✤ To tirelessly run on and on, to the goal within reach(withyou)—that's all I ever wanted

At the advent of dawning welkin, under the aspect of the omnipresent, come.

For a second-grade detective that means to give him a 'greeting', she sure is flowery. Why can she not give a straightforward message that entails the coordinates of their rendezvous area, instead?

Why not even greet him in the police station like the rest did?

Ah, Heizou pockets the slip of paper with a growing smile. But that won't be intriguing, then.

It isn't like he has a hard time deciphering what it means, why, he already knows where the place is. So, as the message said, he obeyed.

“Shikanoin Heizou, correct? What is it that you aim for? I’ve heard all virtuous answers, so if your response is any similar, then I’ll be leaving.”

Huh, a shame. His answer does subsume virtue along with a few other things—preventing crimes by stopping them at the base; the root of evil—and is thus, virtuous and honorable… so that’s a no? Is it too common of an answer?

Well, he has another objective, too.

“Simple, ma'am,” he gives an avid thumbs-up, pairing it with a chuckle. “To be the greatest detective in Inazuma.”

The response he gets is rather lackluster, or, at least that’s how it seemed on the surface. He thinks that indifference is plastered on the girl’s face, he can’t be sure, for she’s cloaked in the shadows of the rising sun.

His assumption is proven to be true, however, when she finally chooses to saunter forward, visage becoming brighter enough for him to view.

“I see, come on, then. There’s already a case waiting, and drop the ‘ma'am’, we’re both of the same rankings. It’s [Name].”

She passes by—only to stop, [c] eyes flicking to assess him. He wonders what she’s looking for by staring him down; is she judging his mien? His gait, perhaps?

Whatever it is, she’s discerning him with a kind of scrutiny that’s telling of someone who does not indulge in flippancy.

“Oh, and about that goal of yours, I think it’ll be a difficult thing to achieve,” she adds, prompting him to blink.

He stills. Difficult?

“Why do you think so?” he presses, arms folding. He hasn’t had anyone tell him that it’d be difficult—even if he knows it himself—until now.

Color him intrigued!

“Isn’t it obvious?” the wind’s billow accompanies the effulgence of daybreak, coruscating with words that gleam with determination. [Name] looks past her shoulder, smile present.

It initially takes him by surprise, eyebrows arching at the slightest, feeling the upward pull of the corners of his lips. He’s not expecting to see a smile when just a minute ago, her gaze was the epitome of throwing knives.

“You’ll have to get through me first.”

Oh? He isn’t anticipating that kind of answer, either. Then, that can only mean that her prior evaluation of him was none other than a mean to gauge his very existence?

To discern a competitor.

“Well then, isn’t this just fascinating?” he grins, “My intuition tells me this will be quite the tale between us... Don’t you agree?”

After leaving Bantan Sango Detective Agency—previously an agency he co-owned—and along with it, the thrill of the crime chase provided by his previous partner, he thought that the new, clean slate supplied by the Tenryou Commission will be bland. Boring.

After all, statutes and rules of limitations encompass said Commission, something he finds tedious. As long as he gets the job done, then there’s no problem, is there?

That’s how he operated and that’s far from changing.

But he supposed that his stay now won’t be as leaden as he thought… not when apparently, there is also someone who strives to be the best of the best.

[Name] dismisses the grin she sees and walks off, “Better start moving, Shika. Before I steal the case under your nose.”

Shika? He is taken aback a little, but picks up the pace with a snort. That's even newer.

Underneath the witness of the golden sun, a spoken rivalry was born.

And a grey day never passes them by.

Deciphering the obscured, solving the plight—they are successful each and every time in each and every single case. No failure, just success.

They’re polar opposites yet, they never fail to not work it out.

[Name] is a stickler for the rules, expressing credence that such are the foundations of a concrete job, so she follows them to the tee. She reminds him of Kujou Sara.

Rarely does he join the rest of his peers in patrol, opting to pilot according to his own set principles, but he never fails to tag along when he sees [Name] patrolling on the job. For someone who works conforming to the rules, she’s surprisingly not the kind to enforce it to anyone else unless the situation calls for it.

It’s probably why he finds her presence to be so light and breezy.

Still, there are times when he presses her buttons on purpose; be it when he’s supposed to be in the station but he’s not and she catches him snacking on a dango and running away when he's caught.

Or when his presence is required in the court but he doesn’t show up so she has to take his place and present the credentials, only to have him enter the room at the last minute.

It is never not amusing to see her eyes narrow to a stern glare, then she’d ignore him for the next few days. Nothing lasting, of course, for they never really fought—and he makes up for his antics in plenty other ways, anyway.

“Come now, it’s my treat!” he ushers a stubbornly silent girl to sit down one time in Uyuu Restaurant, “My thanks for covering my patrol earlier. Also, did you hear? Yae Publishing House has this-“

“One tonkotsu ramen, please.” She’d cut him off, lips thinned to a straight line as he snickers, passing her order on to the chef before resuming his tangent, unbothered by her bluntness.

To any audience, they’d assume that the conversation is upsettingly one-sided. But he is more than observant, for although [Name] doesn’t respond as much as others, he sees the way she nods her head. He sees the various other nonverbal cues that implies that her ears are open.

She’s much more reticent that he gave credit for, but there are times when she’s saying sentence after sentence. Those moments, to expound on, are when she’s in a crime scene, when she’s presenting a detailed report, and anything relative to said subject.

He sees it, the gleam in her eyes—the fire that rivaled the sun when they first met.

He sees it whenever he finds her working on a case, mind encompassed around the conversation she’s having with a witness.

He sees it when they’ve bumped heads looking for clues, conveniently ending up on the same page.

It’s funny—by official means, they are never working together, for detectives’ cases are each to their own. Yet, somehow, they both still run into each other, solely because they’ve completed solving their assigned mysteries and are already jumping onto the next available one that’s yet to be assigned to any doushin.

On one hand, it’s a teeny bit exasperating… because how is he supposed to one-up her when their speed is almost the same?

On another hand, Archons above, he can’t begin to describe how exhilarating it is to go against someone on his level.

[Name] doesn’t always go by her intuition unlike him, she governs by solid pragmatism, by the facts and inferences she has collected. So when she comes across him one late afternoon on the search for clues, again, unsurprisingly, working on the same unassigned case as he is, he laughs at her words.

“I had a feeling I’d run into you again,” her arms are folded, eyes bearing the bright flame as she addresses him. “Shika.”

He pats his hands away, getting rid of the dirt for he has felt the ground a second ago, attempting to track a runaway criminal. The chase is still on, but that doesn’t mean he can’t spare a minute.

“You ‘had a feeling’?” he muses, “Finally relying on your intuition, I see?”

“No.” her usual bluntness causes him to smirk, “It’s just a fact, is it not?” That you will be here.

He doesn’t deny it.

Whatever they do, they always find the other on a mystery they plan to take for themselves. Since it’s unassigned, whosoever gets to its conclusion first will have their name penned as the doushin responsible for cracking the case.

His attempt to respond is thwarted by the sound of a snapping branch, and, frivolity forgotten, their gazes snap to the source—only to find a cloaked figure on the run.

It only takes them both a shared glance until they’re giving chase.

To anyone, it might appear that they’re running after the criminal—and it’s true—but if they are to peer closer, perhaps they’d see that the two are also endeavoring to run faster than the other.

Or maybe people won’t even think that they’re chasing after somebody, and are merely just racing.

After all, there are tiny smiles on their faces as they sped through the terrain, isn’t that enough evidence to infer that they’re genuinely having fun?

To his fortune, he has gotten to the criminal first, swift to tackle and apprehend in a blink of an eye. He can’t help that the winds are in his favor, though he must say, as he sees [Name] arriving just a couple of seconds later.

It’s no easy feat for a non-Vision holder to tail him that quick.

“Apologies,” he tugs the runaway upward and gives a mischievous smile, “But I win this case.”

[Name] shakes her head, shoulders slacked with a sigh. Her display of defeat is fleeting, though, for the fire in her optics are yet to burn out as she promises the next triumph to be hers. Heizou humors it with a buoyant ‘we’ll see’ and they part ways.

One step forward, never taking steps back—that is the road to becoming the best.

Time is flying and records are piling, stacked piece by piece with alternating names denoting two aspiring individuals with a similar goal. An ambition that’s only reserved for one winner.

The thrill of being in the race for it, to seize being the best with his hands yet knowing that there’s another set of hands reaching for it as well—it thrums his chest with excitement. No one has ever gone up to his level, no one but [Name].

He doesn’t fail to commend her expertise, unafraid to give warranted praise.

“But I’ll still be the best,” he’ll say anyway.

And she’ll just simper. “We’ll see.”

Kujou Sara is not fond of either of them acting like they’re on a stage to win, but couldn’t be bothered to reprimand them. For although they do race against the other, the cases they solve are taken earnestly—it’s no child’s play.

There are instances when they do intercept and clash, because although they are indisputably the greatest operating doushins aiming for number one, their method of operating is vastly disparate.

[Name] will sometimes restrain him when he’s bound to break a code of the Tenryou Commission, and he’ll rebuke her for it, arguing that going by his principles would be swifter—better. Sometimes, it’s true, sometimes not.

It has ceaselessly landed both of them in Sara’s office and then, it’ll be the only time the General will scold them. Not like it will change things, for each morning, she sees them there—always, always on the run.

Never to settle on a pace where they can walk together, side by side.

Perhaps it is the setback of a rivalry, Sara thinks once when she sees the pair sprinting toward the Omnipresent God’s Statue for the 13th time that month.

At the stroke of daybreak, chasing after each others’ backs, running after the end goal and the crown of victory, it is endless. One step ahead, always, either of them ends up being one step ahead.

Beads of sweat rolling down their temples, chests heaving after a long race—literally, though the finish line to be number one is yet to be visible—the dawning afterglow of the sky’s golden circle on their person, they collapse on the grass.

As expected, it still ended up being a tie.

They’ve forgotten how it’s come to this; having a literal race every day. It could’ve stemmed from the instigating glances they throw one another, or maybe the challenging huffs and passing comments, they no longer know.

“What are we even doing?” he asks with a tired chortle some time as they are splayed all over nature’s green blades.

It is barely audible, but he hears it anyway, the reciprocating sound of mutual amusement. “I don’t know, just running.”

Neither of them has won anything, or if they do, then the other is just as quick to snatch another point to land them both at another stalemate.

The incoming wave of dizziness from overexerting himself again becomes the least of his worries as he lets his arm rest on his forehead.

It’s nothing a good breeze can't fix and he does this, willing his Anemo to waft the coolest of winds to pass them by.

It didn’t even matter—that the sun is continuously glaring at them. The heat is subdued by the chill of the gales.

As much as it is vexing to be unable to win, he admits that having such a splendid contender for the best is nothing short of electrifying.

First, he worried that the custom of having to go against someone every day will be something he’d be quickly accustomed to- and so it’ll start to be bland, but as he smiles, he realizes that it isn’t the case at all.

Every single waking moment beckons the unremitting frisson within, pumped with the question of ‘I wonder what awaits me today?’, ‘What will we compete on this time?’.

It never fails to excite him—and [Name] never fails to deliver the element of excitement, either.

Both of their feats are famous in the police station.

It has come to the point that their colleagues are divided, rooting for either one to come out standing as the number one detective of Inazuma. A ridiculous proposal had even been raised; that they should just share being the best and be the greatest detective duo, instead.

That’s a direct no—they both know that. They aren’t partners, but rivals.

They never pay it any mind, but it’d be a lie to say that it didn’t affect them.

If anything, they only are fired up by it and they grew to compete about almost every single thing—and it would’ve been so nice, had they not been drawing a tie single time.

“You’re.. swift today,” he manages to quip through his heavy breaths one morning, after yet another race, “You haven’t gotten an Anemo Vision overnight, have you?”

“I haven’t. I’m just getting faster,” she sounds out of breath too, “Or maybe you’re getting slow. Better practice, Shika.”

Heizou laughs heartily, picking up the timid tone of vexation in her voice.

He understands her sentiments—how frustrating it must be, to vie against someone who is on the same level.

They’ve been at it for so long. The finish line is in the distance and yet, they’re running at it with the same speed. He reciprocates such sentiments and finds no problems with it.

A sworn rival, it has a nice ring. Never did he thought he’d be graced with someone as supreme as her—a compeer.

It makes winning the number one spot even sweeter. Ah, he can’t wait for the day to arrive.

“What happens to the loser?”

It’s a question draped with nonchalance, spoken at the time of dusk. Under the sun, atop the green grass, two people celebrate the success of another case and lament the failure of winning against the other.

Heizou is a little disoriented, both from the sprinting session that’s now a tradition between them, and the fact that it isn’t him who initiated the conversation. Blinking away the fatigue that prowls closer, he rests the back of his head under an arm.

They never really discuss the matter of their rivalry with such specifics, it’s only ever about winning, so he’s a little puzzled.

“Get up and try again.” His answer is dry and it’s far from being the greatest, but he means it. After all, titles can be transferred, can they not?

“What if they disappear without a trace after their endeavors?” [Name] is oddly interrogative and he notes that with a tiny bit of wonder and suspicion, not to mention her recent question.

“What if all this time, you’ve been competing against a ghost?”

Swirls of wind dancing around his fingertips, he snaps them away, cognizant of its lingering cold on his skin as he answers.

“A ghost? Impossible, there are always traces to discover. The lost will only remain as is if no one strives to find them.”

“Chase after it, then seize!” he beams, his answer dripping with earnestness. He fails to recognize the invisible rift growing between them, dividing them at long last for one to continue forward.

[Name] falls to the grass beside him with a sigh and he scoots over a little, making sure there is plenty of room. “Haven’t you thought of the reason why the moon can’t ever catch up to the sun?” she asks again.

At this point, Heizou is propping himself up to his elbows, leaning to the side onto his arms so he can gaze down at the [c]nette with inquisitive olive eyes. The smile on his face is still there, though it has gotten smaller.

He chuckles when the girl huffs away the curtain of his maroon tresses that tickles her cheek, ignoring her ‘move away, Shika’ with a teasing shake of his head.

“You’re strangely talkative today… is there any reason why? Not like it poses a problem, of course. I sort of like you better this way.”

[Name] rolls her eyes and gives him a slight shove. He falls dramatically back at her side, unmoving as though he’s surrendered.

“I'm kidding! Are you getting cold feet? Are you finally acknowledging my prowess as a detective and stepping aside so I can be the best? I’m flattered—”

“In your dreams.”

He laughs again, and the subject is dropped.

He laughs—but in reality, he’s befuddled. Concerned.

He sneaks a glance at his side and he sees his rival, her eyes are closed, taking in the sweet caress of his summoned winds that provides cool air for them both.

Nothing is out of the ordinary—yet his intuition insists that something’s amiss.

It gets him pondering on her question as they go their separate ways that time of twilight. He doesn’t have an answer.

His insufficiency to construct one is upsetting and it’s as if the universe is openly mocking him for it, because there he remains laying on the grass after [Name] left, watching the sun set on the west and the moon rise on the east.

Why can’t the moon ever catch up to the sun?

He thinks if it’s some kind of implication- or something else. He does not know and he keeps on thinking over it, tinkering with the gears in his mind until it’s not sunlight that’s bathing him, but moonlight.

He thinks and he thinks—but even an explanation evades him.

“Unbelievable… you slept here?”

He awakens to pretty [c] eyes peering down at him. There’s a small pout on her face, or maybe he’s imagining things. Regardless, he stifles a yawn and casually musters up a smile.

It’s surprisingly easy to hide the fact that he’s still hung about yesterday’s oddities.

“If I told you I actually just got here, would you believe me?”

She lifts her eyebrow, unimpressed. “Absolutely not.”

He laughs—the usual response to her bluntness—and grasps the outstretched hand that helps him up to his feet. With a nod, she turns, on her way to the police station as she does so every morning.

To see only the image of her back, walking forward, feels wrong. He’s compelled to reach out and hold her shoulder- or something- anything that does not involve having to watch her move alone.

So he does.

“Race you to the station!” he calls without so much as an alarm, darting past her with his tongue stuck out in her direction in mischief.

It must’ve caught her off-guard—for he isn’t one to simply drop by the police station no matter the reminder of their higher-ups.

Yet here he is.

“Shikanoin!” he hears her splutter and then came the steps that thundered to reach him.

One step forward, and he sees [c] run pass by. The sight raises a smile on his face and he speeds up, shoulders grazing hers as they race—once more, towards the finish line.

Just like this, he thinks as they both arrive at the station, hands slamming simultaneously against the wooden arch by the entrance.

Another tie.

Like this, in an unending race. Let us just stay like this. Mirth in all its genuine bloom flushes his cheeks with cerise as he throws his head back into another breathy laugh, finding joy in the way [Name] glared at him.

“You… That was uncalled for.”

“We still ended up tying, so it isn’t a problem at all, don’t ‘cha think?”

He doesn’t know when his view towards her changed—maybe it’s because of that one question she raised, or maybe it's when he listened in on her interrogating a suspect, he’s uncertain.

But nowadays, he finds himself pondering over how it’d feel to walk with her side by side instead of the usual ‘I’m-getting-ahead-of-you!’.

He finds himself enlightening the historical absurdities their fellow doushins—mainly Amano—raised about them being partners, but he never goes through with it. He isn’t all that fond of the idea.

Heizou knows more than anyone that at this rate, neither of them will win—it’ll be a perpetual competition for first place… and that’s how he likes it. A continuous chase of each other’s backs, aiming for a single destination.

Is there a need to be partner up with her, when they're already a pair competing for a single goal?

If there ever is an end, he deems that they’ll both reach it at the same time as usual. A tie, and they’ll repeat the chase over and over. And that… that is fine with him.

The mornings, afternoons, and twilights he run with her without end. All those, he wishes to never end. Will that be selfish of him?

To want the existence of his rival at his side, next to him, pursuing the invisible conclusion together in this unending contest.

To only continue moving forward, to only continue running, reenacting the very first time they leapt off with the eternal sun as their judge.

When she can reach for his back and he can reach hers as they sprint to their hearts’ content, that is the moment he seeks to eternalize.

“The disappearances haven’t let up at all, this is getting big. I need you to be meticulous with this, and be careful.”

It’s a highly complicated mystery—well, it isn’t a mystery, but a murder case. What’s missing are the victims, or rather, parts of them. Inazuma had been thrown into a turmoil of unease for good reason, though its citizens are torn.

The victims are criminals, deserving of such a fate, and yet, morals are strewn into conflict. For no matter the severity of a crime, lives are being dealt with.

There’s nothing exceptional to it other than the gnawing concern that [Name] has been more silent. All detectives are set on the case—so in other words, under official means, they’re working together.

So why is it that when he goes to her, it is as if she’s distant?

“Have you thought of the answer?” she asks on a moonlit night, the second night after everyone was assigned the case.

It’s like déjà vu. There they were on the grass again, only, it is not morning nor the afternoon, but the eventide. He isn’t summoning any winds for the night is already cold. Eerily cold.

Heizou is tongue-tied. The question from long ago, once more, it’s resurfaced.

And once more, he lacks an answer—but this time, he raises a question of his own.

“Do you?”

[Name]’s stare on his person is full and focused. It’s as though she is searching for the answer in his own eyes, to no avail. She looks troubled.

“I don’t know myself,” she sounds upset, “Isn’t it sad?”

“What is?”

She laughs, but it’s empty.

“Reality. Maybe the answer is because it’s meant to be that way.” She raises her hand the same way he did a long time ago, clasping on thin air skyward. “Chasing and running, but never reaching.”

The atmosphere is getting bleak. He doesn’t like it. (He doesn’t like her answer, either).

Playing by déjà vu, he raises himself to his elbows and leans to the side, wearing the same teasing smile, letting his hair tickle her cheek.

“I didn’t know you could be so philosophical… how enchanting.”

[Name] only scoffs and he laughs, not missing the timid dust of pink on her cheeks. “Is this your way of surrendering, perhaps—”

“Dream on, Shikanoin.” She tuts, though she doesn’t shove him away—to which his heart skips a beat at.

Of his own volition, however—he feels like he’d combust the longer he stays in such a close proximity—he is the one who moves away, falling back to the grass with a content sigh.

Despite the use of his full name, his worries fly the moment she rebukes his words. For it can only mean that she isn’t set on giving him first place—the race is still on, and that’s more than fine with him.

As he lay there with his rival under the moon, he muses again. Stay just like this.

“Congratulations, Doushin Shikanoin.” Kujou Sara is actually smiling. (It doesn’t seem to reach her eyes, though, but what else is new?)

That should also be a celebration of its own, but that’d mean taking away the celebration meant for him and the resolution of the troubling kidnapping slash murder case.

A case that he solved, by the way.

It’s his win.

Ah, the warmth in chest, blossomed by the prospect of emerging victorious—ah, how spirited he feels! With this in the bag, doesn’t it mean that he’s on a straight road to being the best?

He doesn’t seek promotions, no, only the sentiment. Of course, he isn’t just feeling happy, but relieved, too. At least now that the suspect was caught once and for all, there’d be no more missing people.

It took an unfortunate amount of time to track and apprehend the suspect, but Inazuma can rest easy now.

Excusing himself, he stretches his arms with a barely stifled yawn. The tiny tears that gathered in his eyes from yawning are blinked away.

It’s only five in the morning, he can definitely still knock himself out on his bed. No one would mind.

Goodness, how thoroughly spent he is.

Staying up the past few nights were worth it, however. They’ve all been utilized searching for tracks and hunting down the suspect, and he’s glad that it yielded a wonderful result.

Yes, at the cost of his sleep, but he digresses.

He honestly couldn’t have solved it without [Name], who also sacrificed her sleep to work tirelessly with him during the night.

When they got enough leads in the late hours, they had to part ways, because the evidence suggested that the criminal could be at two places at once. Ah, it’s very fortunate that it’s him who ran across the man, for he’s not one to resort to violence so easily.

The criminal surrendered pretty quick, too, so there weren’t any complications at all.

The moment word got out that the capture was a success, almost everyone that was dispatched had heard it, so it's a bit strange that [Name] didn’t come to the police station as soon as possible.

If she had been here, she would’ve been restless, watching Sara pen down the doushins assigned to the case and writing down the one responsible for seeing its conclusion; him.

He’d be lying if he mentioned that he didn’t want her there to witness this moment.

For even if they were rivals, they wish no ill matters towards one another, only acceptance. It is one of the many reasons why it’s so nice to compete against her—no harm, just ambitions and fun.

He knew that she’d congratulate him for catching the lawbreaker, so hearing none of it puts him at a state of unease. That, and the morning feels off despite having caught the instigator of distress.

Such a shame, and he’s up for cooking some katsu sandwich later, too… he would’ve invited her if—huh?

Heizou halts in his steps.

Now, he may not be in the police station that often, but that does not mean that he isn’t knowledgeable of its interior, as well as the offices and rooms that belong to each member of the Commission.

And right now, he’s seeing a whole bunch of his peers examining [Name]’s office. They’re almost upending the place, even!

At five in the morning!

His confusion is warranted as he enters the room with a quizzical look. His arrival mustn’t have been anticipated, though, for the men inside are jolting. They don’t look guilty, rather, they appear dismayed. A queer reaction.

“Doushin—” he can only continue looking at them expectantly after their inability to utter nothing but his title.

When silence continues to ensue, he asks them again—what are they doing?

The glances they throw one another drags him further into uneasiness. Something is off, something isn’t right and his intuition screams about the situation’s peculiarity.

For what reason do they—his colleagues—have to conduct a search?

At long last, one brave man he recognizes is Watanabe fills him in on the reason—and before anyone can blink, he has moved out of the office.

“It cannot be helped.” Kujou Sara states without batting an eye, without even needing to look at who has entered her office.

She busies herself with arranging the files on her desk, pausing at a few others that has the written name of a certain detective that’s been working with them for as long as she can remember.

“Just like you, [Surname] [Name] is an empty slate, we have nothing about her other than a written declaration and a sworn oath of loyalty. Though the latter is questionable now…”

Heizou cannot help the bafflement on his face as he hears the General’s words for himself, practically confirming what the rest of the officers have stated a while ago.

“Again, like you, there's only her name along with some biometric data the police station requires.”

Is this really happening? He can’t understand how—he can’t understand why.

For once, he is rendered silent, and Sara takes the chance to elaborate further, albeit with a tone that sounded as if she didn’t want to continue the conversation.

She’s conflicted, that much can be discerned, but how exactly she’s conflicted remains unknown.

“One of our detectives have found blood in her house as well as this. Since you solved the case, this ought to be familiar to you.” The opening click of a drawer is heard, followed by shuffling. Sara lifts a clear bag, brightened by the light source in the room and-

Heizou stiffens, lips pursing to a line.

The murder weapon greets his eyes, concealed away in the bag that the General later sets back into its place.

Sara clasps her hands together on top of the table, austere eyes of marigold fluttering halfway down as she continues her explanations.

“Our forensics department has uncovered an additional set of fingerprints on it. Other than the suspect, it has [Name]’s, too.”

The Anemo-user is at a standstill. Is he hearing her right? Are his ears deceiving him? It’s possible that this is just some kind of trick, right?

He ignores the ceaseless nibbles of trepidation, forcing out a laugh that sounded nothing short of believable. “General, surely even you can find this suspicious. [Name]—”

“It doesn’t matter, Doushin,” Sara scowls, “Other than the blood, there is nothing. She may be painted as a possible accomplice, but again, that doesn’t matter now-”

“Whatever do you mean?”

The words are leaving before he can even think to hold them back. He’s never one to interrupt his superiors, but this—this is sounding outlandish!

Frustration is far from grasping a hold of his rationality, but he has a feeling that the calm waters will begin to ripple soon.

It did not help that he lacked sleep, and a lack of sleep doesn’t bring out the best behaviors in a person. He’s yet to be the worst of himself—he has pride in his composure—because of his outstanding success about the case, but that’s quick to be buried.

Stepping forward, the smile is dropped from his face. Think calmly.

Heizou is almost ashamed.

While it is true that he’s close with [Name]—as close as any rival can get—it is also true that he knows little about her other than her love for tonkotsu ramen. He supposes that it’s fair, given that she doesn’t know much about him either other than his favorite food.

But right now, the circumstance of knowing only each other’s personal favorites after being rivals for more than a year and counting is a slap to the face.

Nothing but blood and the murder weapon in her house. Two solid evidences, yet, she’s already deemed an accomplice? A suspect?

It’s plausible, but there is another possibility and he’s inclined to favor it a bit better, no matter the morbidity of it. At least then, she wouldn't be the bad guy.

“I do not understand the need to be impetuous in declaring her guilty when in truth, yes, she can be a suspect—but she can also be a victim.”

Sara does not respond.

Heizou can’t handle the eye contact, it’s too much to bear. Too much time is being wasted when they can get straight onto piecing together facts and points in order to reach a proper conclusion.

The gavel awaits with a proper verdict.

He turns around, fists clenching and unclenching. He’s restless, but that’s fine, it’s just his nerves acting up over the absurdity of the situation.

If the rest of the detectives are hounding her office for a thorough search, then it’s safe to assume that they already have her in confinement.

“I’ll fetch her right away-“

“It doesn’t matter.” The General repeats with an edge to her tone, leaving no room for responses. It prompts the doushin to look back at her, confused.

Confused—until he learns of the reason why.

“[Surname] [Name] is missing.”

“What if all this time, you’ve been competing against a ghost?”

He hears her voice in the back of his mind and his throat goes dry—he can’t speak.

“How will we be able to deem her guilty or innocent if there are too little evidences and absolutely zero information about her?”

Sara is blunt. Ruthless, but she speaks the truth and it dawns unto him terribly slow. So, terribly slow for someone whose job is to utilize his mind.

As if the sentient universe is cognizant of the qualms within him, a chilling breeze crosses past—as if eluding to something.

A ghost all along.

It is not one to be understood in a literal sense (a spirit). Rather, ‘ghost’ is a kind of euphemism, a word to sugarcoat one’s lack of existence—in this case, [Name]’s existence.

Is this what she meant long ago when she raised that question?

Was she aware that such a day will come where she disappears with no one being able to find her?

Had she been insinuating—hinting it to him all along?

So many questions, there are so many questions, yet she isn’t here to sate his growing distress.

“No,” he shakes his head.

The Tengu visibly recoils, albeit it’s faint, and she echoes. “No?”

To her surprise, the Doushin looks at her without the usual smile on his face. There burns, in his olive green eyes, a fire that she knows all too well, reminiscent of the fire she sees in [Name]’s until it has died out.

“The lost will only remain as is if no one strives to find them.”

Heizou states, and Sara sighs, already understanding what it is he intends to do.

“I’ll find her.”

The door closes behind him and the General slumps on her seat.

She refuses to believe that Doushin [Name] is an accomplice, too, for as Shikanoin stated, it’s ridiculous. [Name] has been nothing but an upstanding detective in the Tenryou Commission with an ambition she seeks to fulfill.

But then came this case—and it���s been a slippery slope ever since.

It does not help that nothing rules to her favor.

She is missing, she has no records of anything, and her fingerprints on the murder weapon insinuates only the worst.

All collected and available proofs paint her in a bad light and though yes, she could be a potential victim, nothing but their—the Commission’s—personal opinion of her would serve as defense.

It is terrible, but it is what it is.

She can’t believe she’s lost a noteworthy detective, but she can’t begin to imagine how the other Doushin is processing it for himself. Deep down, Sara wishes that [Name] will be found—some have already been dispatched to search—so they can settle this and clear her name… hopefully.

But hope can only be of so little aid—for what is hope, but a mere sentiment?

If only such a thing can solidify into miracles, then the swirling dread in his chest would’ve been allayed.

But alas, it cannot, and he is forced to carry the weight of suspense as he runs across the streets of Inazuma.

He has only gone to [Name]’s house two times in the duration he’s known her—which is long—both to drop her off after a drinking competition. She isn’t a lightweight per se, but neither is he, though it still ended up with her almost getting knocked out.

It was a funny memory and he would’ve laughed, would’ve brought it up… if not for the present circumstance.

Heizou doesn’t know what to expect when he enters her house, a house devoid of any belongings and presence. It is barren, just as his colleagues said.

The blood stains have been cleaned up and there’s, well, nothing.

Not a single vestige. Not a single person.

It sounds so impossible—he cannot understand, he cannot wrap his head around this- this lunacy! Just hours ago when it was still evening, when it was still late in the night, he was with her.

They were working together, hunting down clues.

And now, just hours later, just after they’ve parted… she disappeared? All of a sudden, she is an accomplice? How can things slip so swiftly in a matter of hours?

Heizou is fixated strongly on his own beliefs and intuition; it just isn’t possible that she, out of everyone, can be an accomplice.

So he gets to work, exhaustion forgotten. He upends the whole place the same way he found Watanabe and co doing to her office, seeking leads and clues—anything.

But what is there to search for in an empty place?

A trace is all that he seeks, but even with the use of his elemental sight, he can find nothing in the house. Not even a strand of [c] nor a waft of her usual, flowery scent.

There is nothing. Not even a single furniture! It doesn’t even appear like a place that someone will live in- and he falters, stepping out of the door.

How will he start a search if he has no leads? How will he start a search, if he doesn’t know entirely who he’s looking for?

He refuses to believe it, but reality greets him—dawns on him like the sun.

It can’t be possible. But still, here it is.

He’s uncharacteristically weak in the knees, so he holds onto the threshold of the door to keep himself standing.

There are plenty of emotions all at once, a blunder of confusion and fear, sentiments he isn’t used to feeling. And it’s catastrophic.

The previously shrouded nightmare uncloaks itself before him; he will reach his hand forward—yet the person he seeks to hold is far from reach. Out of reach.

The back of the rival he is chasing is gone and he is running alone. It isn’t right.

Desperate is a word that’s rarely ever used to describe him, the ambitious, cunning detective with a cast-iron countenance.

But as he takes to the streets of Inazuma City again, sprinting with a single destination in mind, he is nothing short of desperate.

There is no one to witness something that was meant to be a part of the many routines in the city. No one to witness him stumbling past the Statue of the Omnipresent God, no one to witness him stand atop a cliff, alone.

Incomplete without another.

The skies are changing colors, transfiguring from the gentle blues to vivid yellows—and there is no one but him to see such a sight.

Everything feels cold, everything feels empty, and rightfully so. During this hour, he would be heaving breath after breath with a smile on his face, passing comments to the [c]nette who would be looking impassive as ever.  

And he is here, heaving, but there is no one with him.

It’s not possible, he argues with this horrific reality. It can’t be.

But he cannot run from the truth.

For the first time, he watches the sun rise from the clasp of the water far in the horizon without [Name] at his side. He feels lost.

And as the sunlight kisses his features, so comes the dawning truth.

Heizou stands at the finish line as the winner.

Alone.

It isn’t easy to wring himself out of the void of bleakness that has befallen after the day of [Name]’s disappearance.

Many in the station thought that his competency will face a drop, so they were stunned when it did not.

In fact, to everyone’s surprise, Shikanoin Heizou worked twice as hard, seizing the best outcome out of everything. Troubled he may be, he could not let it hinder the problematic cases he needs to resolve, too.

He can’t find it within him to stop visiting the place he frequented with her, so he doesn’t get rid of it in his routine. It’s a little difficult to adjust, a little painful, but he manages.

Piling records, stacking cases, passing years, and a disappearing name... Heizou is reminded of her every single time he finishes a case and every single time his name is written as the doushin responsible for it.

Everything she was once to everyone—to him—is quickly dissolving into a memory, and it hurts to accept such a fact.

The Vision Hunt Decree took his mind off of it for a while, but after that was resolved, things fall back into place.

It does not help that he was a part of the team that took away the Visions that used to be inlaid upon the Statue of the Omnipresent God.

Beneath its regard, he feels so out of place, so lonely. It makes him laugh as he stands close to it, reminiscing a morning of long ago. He stays there, waiting for the sun to rise with earnest patience. It has become a part of his routine, his life.

He hears voices all around, evident of the passing minutes and hours, evident of everyone’s waking moment. All are given no such attention—that is, until he picks up on something that causes his breath to hitch.

“Where did you hear that name?”

Frazzled and a little bit bewildered, his eyes fall onto none other Traveler and their floating companion. He smiles, as per usual, but he cannot find the strength to do it as brightly as they’re probably used to seeing.

“It’s Heizou! Oh, and- uh! We just heard it in passing…” that’s news to him.

Interests piqued, the pair—seeing them, he almost feels envious, though he feels more lonesome, instead—saunters closer, eager to learn more. “You seem to know this person, Heizou? Who is she? The people we talked to seem to put her on a pedestal!”

He’s relieved—it isn’t just him who remembers, yes. Plenty of people have been helped by her and even if she appears austere, that is not to mistake the kind heart she possesses.

The smile he brings to his face this time comes easy. He turns to them, more than willing to sate their curiosities.

Who is the best to approach with this other than him?

“Well, you already know it! [Surname] [Name].” he chuckles at the immediate annoyance that flies over the pixie’s face.

Paimon stomps in midair, much to the Traveler’s embarrassed chagrin. “No! We meant who is she to you, a friend? Were you besties or something?”

He crosses eyes with the Traveler, golden eyes mirroring the same interest. Ah, if they’re that eager to know, who is he to deny them the information?

“Ahaha! Alright, alright…” his voice becomes quiet, “Mm, who is she…”

A friend… hm?

For that moment, it doesn’t matter to him if he appeared out of character, out of the usual jubilance he expresses. He thinks well about the question, holds it close to his chest that blooms with warmth.

“Well, we certainly were the best.”

Never did he think he’d utter the words—to share the place of the best, but it matters not any longer.

The race has ended and even if he has crossed the finish line alone, he wills himself to envision that he ran past it with a blur of [c] at his side.

As it should’ve been.

His chest clings unto a mix of nostalgia, sadness, and joy. Still, he manages not to drop his smile.

It is the chase that hasn’t ended. He’ll keep on running, looking forward, whatever it takes, searching for the ghost haunting his memories. Time has folded on and on yet he remains empty-handed.

At this point, the name has dissolved from everyone’s—but a few, he supposes—memory.

At this point, his ambition has reached merit; it is his name that rings from everyone’s lips, the best detective in Inazuma, yet to him, though it is fulfilling, it simultaneously sounds empty. Pyrrhic.

“As expected of my partner...”

If she’s here, her eyes would be wide as Paimon and the Traveler’s. Then she’d go, “Hey, who said we’re partners, huh? I’ll beat you, Shika, watch your back.”

He laughs at the idea of it.

Heizou’s smile becomes wistful as the dawning sun graces him of another morning, another day to spend dreaming of an idealized past that could not be eternalized.

At this point, he no longer knows if the one he is chasing after is truly gone—much like a ghost—no longer knows if he’ll be able to extend his hand towards her back that’s supposedly within reach, and dart past her as always.

He doesn’t know, but he will keep on moving forward because that’s what their race was all about—to move forward. To move on.

Maybe, conceivably, possibly—she is still running, and he’s yet to catch up, that’s why he must run.

So that when he’s finally able to reach her, see her, under the same sun, wherever she is…

Heizou looks at them and grins along the skip of his heartbeat.

“The greatest rival I ever had.”

Then, together with [Name], he’d gladly cross the finish line again.

a/n: haaah :') a mysterious rival who vanished in thin air, whether MC is guilty or innocent, no one knows. and heizou is left all alone to be the best- though he's gone through some period of acceptance, hasn't he? though he says he's the best, he includes MC too 🥺 oh MC, MC, where art thou MC come back to him 😭

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021 @coco-goat-milk

[ct7567329]

I saw that your requests are open! Would you be open to writing a kix fluff? Tbh goodest boy of the 501st.

Of course!!

A/N: I just wanna apologize for being so absent. I've had a depressive mood the last week and I'm trying to get out of it! I really really really hope you enjoyed this!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm Yours: Kix x Reader

You sat outside a surgical room at the Republic Medical Center on Coruscant, sitting on an unused cot, swinging you legs back and forth. You've been this way for hours, watching solider after soldier be brought into the surgical room.

Inside the room, working away, was Kix. Unfortunately, not a bunch of medics were on Coruscant so he was being bombarded with surgical procedures that weren't deemed immediate, but had to be done eventually.

Everything was going fine until one soldier was pulled out of the room with a blanket over him. Confused, you got up and entered the room, staring at a blood covered Kix. His head was down, not even acknowledging that you were in the room.

"His lungs were slowly filling with blood," he mumbled, "no one detected it. We were just going to open him up and take a look since he complained of breathing issues. We couldn't save him."

"Hun, let's get you changed into some fresh clothes," you suggested, grabbing his hand and taking the glove off.

He tugged his arm away, "there are still more men."

"Kix, as you general, I demand you leave the medical center right now."

He hated when you did that. You rarely pulled the 'I'm your general' card but every time you did, it never ended well. This was a risk you were willing to take.

"Okay," he whispered, walking out of the room, you trailing behind him.

You followed him out of the medical center. When he finally exited the building, he turned around to face you, "Why?"

"Why what?"

He took a deep breath, "Never mind."

"We're going to head back to my personal quarters, okay?"

As soon as he got to you room, he quietly took his armor off and went straight to the shower. 

"Why'd you make me leave?" he asked as soon as he finished his shower.

You patted the bed next to you and he sat down, "Kix, you need to take a deep breath for a moment. You are the greatest medic this army has ever seen, you always try your hardest. I will never know how it feels to lose a brother, but I do know how it feels to see the person you love devastated. Let's go on a walk."

"Thanks love. I just crack under pressure," he got up and took his towel off, then put his blacks and lower armor on. 

"And that's okay," you reassured him, "Let's head out."

As soon as the quarters were far enough away, he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze. As you looked forward, leading the way, he kept his eyes locked on you face. What you didn't know is that whenever possible, he would always look at you, trying to memorize every detail. During battle, he constantly feared losing you, so when he had the opportunity to be near you, he never took it for granted. 

"You alright?" you asked him, noticing him staring at you. 

He let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, "Everything is perfect. I feel better already."

"Well, that was the goal!" you laughed, leaning into him, "Let's go eat!"

You brought into a cute diner, "I used to eat here with some of my friends who were padawans with me. This brings back good memories."

"I'm sure it does," he replied, admiring the atmosphere, "it's cute. Like you."

"Kix!" you blushed, "you gas me too much."

"Gotta give credit where credit is due!" he smiled, looking at the menu, "so many options."

You watched his face light up as he read the menu. 

"It all looks amazing!" he added, clearly not sure what he wanted to get. 

"Well, get whatever you want! You earned it," you smiled, "but this is my favorite."

You pointed to one of the menu items and Kix read it. 

"Mac and Cheese Burger?" he asked in a confused tone, "Honestly, I'm not sure what most of this stuff is so I'll take your suggestion."

The waiter took your order and before long the food was out. Kix stared at his plate wide eyed. You have never taken him out to a restaurant before so this was probably the most food he's probably ever seen. 

"Try it" you laughed, prompting Kix to take a bite. 

He finished chewing and his jaw dropped, "Babe this is amazing!!"

You laughed again and watch him devour his meal. No talking means the food's good right? It seemed as if within a blink's time Kix was finished and you were not even halfway done. 

"That was the second most amazing thing I've ever tasted," he gasped after swallowing his last bite. 

"And what's the most amazing thing?"

Kix smirked, "Your kiss of course."

"A great doctor always knows how to make someone feel good,"  you blushed, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand. You decided to call the waiter over. 

"One shake please! Two straws," you asked, smiling at Kix. 

"What's that?"

"You'll see," you winked. 

A single shake with two straws was placed on your table, "As a little girl, I always dreamed of the day I could come here with a man I love and share a shake with him," you giggled, taking a sip from the straw. 

He locked eyes with you and took a sip, but kept his mouth on the straw. His eyes always melted your heart.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered, slurping more shake. 

You smiled, "Let's get out of here. I wanna cuddle."

You paid the bill and walked out with Kix. As soon as he exited, he spun you around and kissed you slowly.

"Thank you for making me leave, I needed this, love."

You smiled into his chest and pulled him closer. All you ever wanted was to make him happy, and you were. 

Once back at your quarters, he flopped onto your bed, bringing you with him. He nuzzled his head into your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers along the tattoos on his head and then trailed down his back. He got up and took off his bottom armor, then took off his blacks, putting on the set of lounge clothes you kept for him.  He quickly got back into bed with you and wrapped his arms around you. 

"I missed this," he mumbled against the back of your head.

"Me too hun," you replied, rotating your body to face him. 

It was moments like this that you wish lasted forever. His eyes locked with yours, sharing nothing but love. It went without saying: you would do anything for each other. 

Kix kissed your forehead, "I want this war to end. I want to make you mine forever."

You cuddled closer to him, "I'm already yours forever."

"Good." he smiled, pressing his lips against yours. 

He continued to deepen the kiss until he was straddled on top of you. There were a lot of uncertainties in the time of war, but the one thing he did know is that you were his world, and he would do anything to show that. 

[dalekofchaos]

If Mace Windu survived

Because both Samuel L Jackson and George Lucas believe Mace survived, I came up with a little AU on how his story can go from here

Mace barely manages to hitch a ride before crashing to a horrible death. He barely manages to make it to the lower levels before losing consciousness 

Mace is nursed back to health by citizens who recognize Mace for his valor in the Clone Wars and a Jedi master

Mace is blind in one eye and has a robotic arm

Until he was healed, he lived in the lower levels of Coruscant

He feels Order 66 happen and feels powerless to do anything. 

Breaks down after feeling the deaths of the younglings

The greatest sorrow for Mace is when his old Padawan Depa Billaba is killed and Caleb Dume is left at the mercy of the Clones

Mace is able to find and recover his Lightsaber without detection and finds a ship. 

Mace has survivor’s guilt and blames himself, for his inability to stay to his convictions of killing Palpatine when he had the chance. He could’ve ended it before it began, but listened to Anakin

Mace is able to find Jedi survivors. Padawans, Knights and Masters. Eventually, Mace and his Jedi survivors are found by Bail Organa. 

For a time, Mace and the surviving Jedi are hidden on Alderaan. Bail tells Mace that Yoda and Obi-Wan survived and about Luke and Leia. Mace watches over young Leia and will say “then the twins may be our only hope”

Mace Windu starts a Rebel cell on his own full of Jedi survivors and Rebels who fought with the Jedi during the Clone Wars. He is not holding back. He keeps to the light as Vaapad keeps his dark side in check, but he has more of an edge to him and plans to unleash full hell upon the Empire. 

You could have Mace reunite with Kanan for a brief time. Mace is glad Caleb survived and Kanan is shocked that Master Windu is still alive. “Master Dep-” “I know, I miss her too” they bond and reminisce of Depa and the Jedi. “May the force be with you, Kanan Jarrus” Kanan knows, this is goodbye.

Mace Windu would launch a strike on Kashyyyk in the hope of freeing the Wookie homeworld. This would be his fatal encounter with Darth Vader

Mace holds his own, upon realizing it’s Skywalker, he plans on correcting what he should have saw coming and avenging the betrayal of the Jedi. Mace and Vader are on even footing and Mace damages Vader badly. But sadly, in the end Vader finally cuts down Mace Windu

[starsandthedyad]

“Trust me, Master, there is so much I want to tell you. The time line be damned. I don’t care any more.” Ben said, turning around to face Qui-Gon. “You want to know the truth about me? That secret that you nor the Council could detect or get out of my lips? My name is Ben Organa Solo. I’m from your future, sent back in time by the Force for some reason and it lead me to you. The Jedi are close to ending in the future. There is only one Master left, my uncle, Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin Skywalker.”

He was spilling it out, all of it. “Anakin is a child that you and your new padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, will rescue from slavery on the desert planet Tatooine. You will die at the hands of a Sith Lord and Anakin, my grandfather, will become the terror of the galaxy. Not the Chosen One, but one of the greatest Sith Lords to have ever lived, Darth Vader. He will slaughter the younglings at the temple on  Coruscant. He will kill all the Jedi, save for the two that escape, Master Yoda and Master Kenobi. In time, he will die, in an action revealing the only good left in his black heart and my uncle Luke will become a legend for it. Luke Skywalker will seek to bring back the Jedi and I will be one of his students. But the darkness will call me and I will follow it. I was sent back before I could begin my training, but not before the thought crossed my mind of killing or turning my fellow students. The Jedi could end. That is the truth.”

@masterofthelivingforce

[elisaenglish]

Wonder and the Sacred Search for Truth: Ann Druyan on Why the Scientific Method Is Like Love

An invitation “to feel more intensely the romance of science and the wonder of being alive right now, at these particular coordinates in spacetime, less alone, more at home, here in the cosmos.”

“We, this people, on a small and lonely planet / Traveling through casual space / Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns / To a destination where all signs tell us / It is possible and imperative that we learn / A brave and startling truth…” So begins Maya Angelou’s cosmic clarion call to humanity, one of the most beautiful and poignant poems ever written — a poem that flew to space, a poem that came from space: a poem inspired by Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot — his lyrical meditation on the landmark photograph of Earth, which the Voyager spacecraft took in 1990 as an afterthought upon completing its unprecedented photographic survey of our Solar System, and which Sagan spent years petitioning NASA to permit.

The Voyager, which had sailed into space thirteen years earlier, carried alongside its instruments The Golden Record— a visionary, intensely poetic effort to capture the essence of Earth in sounds and images that would convey to another planetary civilisation across spacetime, and, perhaps even more vitally in the middle of the Cold War, mirror back to us who and what we are: a single symphonic species.

Tasked with the impossible, inspired work of distilling that essence was the project’s creative director, Ann Druyan. In the course of composing the record, Sagan and Druyan, to their own wonder-stricken surprise, found themselves composing a stunning love story with their lives. They spent the remaining two decades of Sagan’s life fathoming and figuring the universe together — writing poetic inquiries into the origin of comets, dreaming up children’s book ideas, collaborating on the iconic 1980 television series turned book Cosmos, which The Library of Congress listed among 88 books to have shaped the country’s conscience, alongside epoch-making triumphs of courage and vision that have changed the course of culture and the understanding of nature — books like Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring and Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass.

Two decades after Sagan’s death — decades coruscating with dazzling scientific discoveries that have disquieted us into shedding more myths and beholding more of reality — Druyan picked up the thread of wonder to write and produce a continuation of Cosmos, starring astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson and soaring into these new frontiers of our ever-evolving understanding of space and time. In the companion book, Cosmos: Possible Worlds (public library), she extends an invitation “to feel more intensely the romance of science and the wonder of being alive right now, at these particular coordinates in spacetime, less alone, more at home, here in the cosmos.”

Tracing our cosmic story — from the cyanobacteria through which life first bloomed on our rocky world billions of years ago to our search for life on possible worlds many lightyears away; from the cave walls on which early humans first mapped their spatial coordinates to the Rube Goldberg machine of discoveries that led to the lasers with which these caves are now studied; from the symbiotic evolution of plants and the pollinators that feast on them to the Russian scientists who starved to death in a murderous dictatorship to protect their precious collection of seeds ensuring our planet’s biodiversity far beyond their lifetimes — Druyan takes up the mission not as a scientist herself but as a lifelong student and steward of the scientific mindscape, a self-described “hunter-gatherer of stories”: stories that begin with the human, with individual scientists or teams of scientists, and beget the cosmic, parting the curtain to let in a few more golden rays of reality, chiselling some precious fragment of knowledge from the immense monolith of the unknown.

At the centre of her expansive reach into past and future is a lucid, luminous look at the realities and responsibilities the present is calling us to rise to — an inquiry into what it would take for us to transcend our human limitations and foibles so that we may endure as stewards rather than destroyers of this irreplaceable planet. In a testament to the fundamental fact that science is “a truly human endeavour,” Druyan writes:

“Science, like love, is a means to that transcendence, to that soaring experience of the oneness of being fully alive. The scientific approach to nature and my understanding of love are the same: Love asks us to get beyond the infantile projections of our personal hopes and fears, to embrace the other’s reality. This kind of unflinching love never stops daring to go deeper, to reach higher.

This is precisely the way that science loves nature. This lack of a final destination, an absolute truth, is what makes science such a worthy methodology for sacred searching. It is a never ending lesson in humility. The vastness of the universe — and love, the thing that makes the vastness bearable — is out of reach to the arrogant. This cosmos only fully admits those who listen carefully for the inner voice reminding us to remember we might be wrong. What’s real must matter more to us than what we wish to believe.”

Learning not to confuse the strength of our beliefs for the strength of the evidence is, of course, one of the greatest, most difficult triumphs of our growth — as individuals, as societies, and as a species. In consonance with the tenets of Sagan’s timeless Baloney Detection Kit for critical thinking, Druyan offers her simple, elegant formula for telling the two apart:

“Test ideas by experiment and observation. Build on those ideas that pass the test. Reject the ones that fail. Follow the evidence wherever it leads. And question everything, including authority. Do these things and the cosmos is yours.”

She opens and closes the book with the words of Albert Einstein, spoken at the 1939 World’s Fair, where he had gone to leave a time-capsule of wisdom for posterity:

“If science, like art, is to perform its mission truly and fully, its achievements must enter not only superficially but with their inner meaning into the consciousness of the people.”

I am reminded — by Einstein’s words, by Druyan’s endeavour — of John F. Kennedy’s miraculous defence of poetry: “We must never forget that art is not a form of propaganda; it is a form of truth.” The man whose unassailable vision had landed the first human foot on another celestial body understood that in the poetry of reality, every portal of wonder, be it art or science, is a portal to truth. Sometimes — if our passion and persistence are great enough, if chance rolls its impartial dice suitably enough — it is a portal to “a brave and startling truth.”

What emerges from Druyan’s Cosmos: Possible Worlds is a rosary of such shimmering sometimeses. Complement it with poet Marie Howe’s stunning ode to the singularity of our cosmic belonging, then revisit physicist Brian Greene on wresting the poetry of existence from an aloof universe and Carl Sagan on how to live with the unknown.

Source: Maria Popova, brainpickings.org (20th May 2020)

[anghraine]

“per ardua ad astra” - chapter twelve

Wherein a hint of a plot occurs!

last chapter:

“You’re Alderaanian, captain? I didn’t realize.”

Skimming something on Jyn’s datapad, he made an indistinct noise of assent. Jyn herself felt an uncomfortable chill prickle all up and down her spine. Maybe danger, maybe the reminder of whatever nightmare awaited them in the cradle of the Rebellion.

Zekheret blurted out, “Oh, that’s why—uh—I mean, you’re going home, then. Sir.”

this chapter:

A man with soft robes and soft eyes asked him his name, and he just begged him, where’s Mama? Where’s Rana?—I’m Cassian, Cassian Andor, but Rana—Renalia, my sister, you’ve got to find her—

 “—the old senator was a troublemaker since before the Empire, the princess is a traitor and spy, and that queen and the planetary council turn a blind eye to open disrespect for the Emperor.”

Tor halted long enough that Cassian assumed he’d finished his catalogue of Alderaan’s sins.

 “I’m aware,” he said.

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven

Unless Bodhi found an opportunity to escape, they couldn’t do anything until Cassian recovered. Or rather, they might find a way for Jyn and Bodhi to escape, ideally with the location of the plans, but she refused. Instead, they had to wait for the bacta to do its work, and gather as much information as possible to prepare for the day when the attempt might be worth the risk, without Cassian as dead weight. Resting, and strictly adhering to Esten’s advice, was his greatest contribution right now.

Cassian reminded himself of that for the seventeenth time. Jyn refused to leave him, a realization that strangled the breath out of his throat on multiple occasions, for multiple reasons. In her place, he would have done the same—had done the same, so despite the differences in feeling, he didn’t try to persuade her out of it. Not with escape near-impossible, anyway. And once his damn ribs healed, he could be of use even stuck here, if the plans remained hidden long enough to eventually find a way out.

Willix held the whole subterfuge together. While Cassian didn’t care for undercover work, he itched to do something. As Willix, he could. His data trail left opportunities that the nonexistent Lyr couldn’t have. He just had to recover.

So every hour on the hour, Cassian dutifully wandered about the halls near his quarters for fifteen minutes. The limited time provided little chance of seeing anything, but he was still pathetically relieved to walk by himself again, even with his nerves on high alert in the open. He also dutifully took the Imperial analgesics, so he didn’t even hurt.

On his fourth perambulation, he caught footsteps behind him. The halls saw enough activity that it wasn’t extraordinary; he could hear any number of footsteps at this moment, all around him. Only one set, however, seemed exactly synchronous with his own.

Maybe coincidence. Maybe not. Pretending to adjust his gloves, Cassian let himself slow, then return to his original speed. Sure enough, the tread behind him did the same thing. He held up a lieutenant with a demand for directions, and the steps vanished altogether. They began again as soon as he headed to his quarters.

He could think of any number of possibilities, none of them good, few short of disaster. Jyn would be back soon, to make the danger more daunting, but openly contacting her might escalate the situation. As he approached the passcode panel, Cassian considered his options, fear flickering in him.

He didn’t bother trying to repress the feeling; he was often afraid, and had no difficulty acknowledging it. He’d learned long ago to accept fear as the warning it was, keep going, let it sharpen his senses and quicken his reflexes. Denial only made it paralyzing instead of useful.

The steps had fallen out of unison with his own, instead speeding up. Their possessor would be here in a moment. Instantly, Cassian switched from observation to action, swerving without warning.

“May I help you?” he demanded, and then had to tilt his head back. Regardless of Jyn’s opinion, he was not a tall man, but neither was he a short one; he almost never had to strain to meet another man’s eyes. This one, square-built and fair-haired, must be at least six and a half feet. After a glance at his insignia, Cassian softened his tone to respect and his posture to deference. “Sir.”

The giant, who horrifyingly reminded him of Draven, gave a faint smile.

“At ease.” He grasped Cassian’s hand with a force that nearly wrenched his arm out of its socket. “Captain Willix, I presume?”

“I am,” said Cassian, extricating himself. “I did not expect you to come so far, Commander … Tor?”

The smile broadened.

“Good,” Tor replied. “I need a word with you.”

That didn’t require a tedious physical journey to track down a subordinate. On the Death Star, it was very little less.

“Yes, sir?”

“Privately,” he said, with a nod at the door.

Mentally categorizing the blasters that Jyn had stuck into various corners of their room, Cassian tapped in his passcode and led the commander into his quarters. He had to be grateful that he’d re-made Jyn’s bed after she left; Tor glanced around with an approving look.

“I don’t trust comlinks,” said Tor.

“Ah.” With a grimace, Cassian gestured at the hated hoverchair. “Do you mind?”

“No, no,” Tor said, waving him ahead. He watched closely as Cassian leveraged himself into the chair. “I didn’t realize you could walk yet, captain.”

“For short periods.” He peered up at the man, not even having to fake a grimace. From here, Tor really was obscenely tall.

The commander must have felt the awkwardness himself. He glanced around, then sat on the edge of Jyn’s bed.

“How soon can I expect you back on your feet?”

Silently reminding himself to sanitize the bedding, Cassian said, “Dr Esten said that I may be capable of half-duty tomorrow or the next day. Full recovery will be longer—a week or two, I think.”

With a thoughtful nod, Tor took out a small datapad. “I took a look at your history when I received your assignment, captain.”

Cassian could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t already be on the record or look vastly more suspicious than anything in it. He kept his mouth shut and waited.

“Quite a lot of analytical training—that’ll be why you got assigned to my division. But I see that you’ve been in combat a few times.”

A few. He inclined his head.

“Commanded a small battleship.” Glancing up, Tor’s brows rose. “Very small. You’ve been stationed on Corellia, Naboo, Coruscant … coordinating security, it looks like. Men and droids?”

“Yes, sir,” said Cassian. He cleared his throat. “Mostly droids.”

“Understandable,” Tor said dryly. “Then you were reassigned to—the Senate? A bit below your pay grade.”

“My pay didn’t change,” he replied.

“Mm. Says here that you commanded the security detail for Senator … Organa?” The man’s voice, already lighter than Cassian’s, rose higher over the name. “Which—ah, Princess Leia. The traitor.”

“Yes,” said Cassian. He held his breaths even, counted in his head to keep his heart to its regular beat, and not the pounding rush it seemed to be considering. He had long practice with both, particularly in the last few weeks. Even more particularly in the last few days. “We had no proof of treachery then, and I never saw any for myself, but Colonel Jerox preferred to keep her under close observation. He hoped she would be less guarded with me than the other available officers.”

She certainly had been. He could remember Leia, all of sixteen, yelling at him about not telling her how to hide bodies. He remembered his younger self, too, struggling not to shout back at her, snarl that she wouldn’t need to know if she would just listen—

Then again, he remembered everything.

“Why you?” the commander barked out.

“I’m Alderaanian, sir.”

Tor grunted. “I saw that. Well, your record ends there. A few months ago. You were on Scarif in the meanwhile?”

“Yes. The destruction of the station”—Cassian coughed—“was undoubtedly necessary, but destroyed all local records. I worked in robotics.”

“The droids again, eh?” Tor set his datapad aside, and Cassian did his best not to look too obviously tempted.

He could only imagine the amount of information, high quality information, that must be stored right there, nearly within arm’s reach. In more productive circumstances, he could take it and run. As it was, any theft or death would be quickly detected and traced to its source, at least one involving a high-ranking officer. He had nowhere to run and no capability of doing it, anyway. Instead, Cassian wrapped himself in polite obedience and waited.

“An interesting history,” said Tor. “Directionless, some might suggest.”

“Versatile,” Cassian said quickly.

Tor gave a short laugh. “Perhaps. Certainly, we could find any number of uses for your skills, if not for one thing.”

Alarms rang in his head. With a puzzled frown, Cassian searched the commander’s expression. He’d gone from wry to grave—more than grave. Outright somber.

“What is that, sir?”

Tor’s eyes, cold and unwavering, fixed on his own. “You’re a spy.”

Jyn hated the Death Star.

Hated, hated, hated it.

Not that she hadn’t before. Every time she thought of Baze and Chirrut, she felt a breath away from Lyr shattering around her. And Kay—though she hoped he might be resurrected yet—so thrilled with the blaster, and then Cassian screaming his name. All the spies and saboteurs she hadn’t known, who followed her (followed Cassian, but he’d yoked himself to her), dead by stormtroopers or bombs or the terrible light her father had spawned. Jedha, desecrated to feed it and then obliterated—Saw—and less directly, her father and mother—Force, she hated it.

At the same time, she was petty enough to hate it not merely as evil manifest, but simply a place. In particular, the place where she happened to be stuck, with no way out, no ability to take advantage of an escape route even if she had one, and too many dangers and opportunities to stay holed up in Cassian’s quarters. And it took so long to get anywhere. The size of this thing seemed completely asinine; the underlying mechanics couldn’t require this much space, could they? Besides that, the people were either untrustworthy, inane, malicious in a casual, colourless way that bothered her far more than concentrated malevolence, or some combination of them all.

She spent hours talking or eavesdropping on perfectly horrible people, along with a handful of ostensibly decent ones who couldn’t be decent at all, or they wouldn’t be here. Jyn understood keeping your head down; however intolerable now for her personally, she had no room to judge that after the last six years. But actively participating in it was something else altogether. 

She didn’t regret the presence of Brakases and Estens who made things somewhat less relentlessly terrible, or even the Efrahs and (maybe) Zekherets. That was only for her own sake, though, and Cassian’s. In a way, they seemed worse than those who probably celebrated Life Day by kicking puppies.

Ugh.

Bodhi contacted her once; he assured her that he’d encountered no problems, and the rushed training he and the other new stormtroopers received had left him sort of shooting properly when he didn’t get nervous. However, he had no further information, not even gossip. Relieved over him and exasperated with the universe, Jyn stayed as encouraging as she could until the connection broke, then slipped into a fresher and slammed her fist against the wall.

It was safe enough; for obvious reasons, the women’s freshers generally stayed empty. Jyn suspected they wouldn’t exist at all except for the sheer amount of space the architects had to fill. In a normal base, the personal quarters would probably be less (comparatively) lavish, too, even for officers.

Cassian’s ribs should really heal faster. Not that he could help it, but as often as she’d worked alone, this wouldn’t feel so blandly sickening with him around. Especially if she didn’t have to worry every time he got out of bed.

Out of sheer impatience and aggravation, Jyn decided that she wanted to hear his voice. He might have advice or something, and he’d probably appreciate a distraction, anyway. She opened the connection.

The first time, it failed. She must be too far; they should probably figure out the stronger hand-held comlinks. Jyn made her way to an empty elevator; while she hadn’t travelled far enough down that she needed to account for a full hour in her schedule, dinnertime would be soon enough that she should probably start heading back. She tried the com again; it connected, but she only heard static. The connection had gone through, but he wasn’t answering.

Probably asleep. He needed his rest, too, but … she felt uneasy. After five minutes, Jyn tried for a third time.

“Willix.” Cassian’s voice came through, sharp and clear.

A bit too sharp, in fact. Almost tight. Every nerve in Jyn’s body twitched into high gear.

“Sergeant Lyr, sir,” she said, in her most professional voice. “Calling to inform you that I should be available for immediate assistance in … thirty minutes or so.”

“Thirty?” repeated Cassian, in the same strained voice. “Very well.”

Jyn paused, then said, “I hope I haven’t disrupted any important matters, captain.”

To her horror, she heard Cassian say something inaudible—not mumbling, but as if he spoke from a distance. To someone else. Was he on one of the prescribed walks, or worse?

Even more alarmingly, she heard another voice, a man’s, but higher than Cassian’s. This one, also, remained too distant to make out, but sounded much too near for a casual passerby. And she heard nothing else, none of the background hubbub she’d expect in public, not even the groans and hums of machinery. No, everything suggested that she’d caught Cassian in his quarters, and a stranger with him. There, now.

“Ah, no,” said Cassian. “We were just finishing up, I think. Is that right, sir?”

She heard an affirmative sound from the other man. Not merely a stranger, but someone Cassian, a captain here as well as in the Alliance, would call sir.

The hairs on her neck nearly stood up.

“Is there anything urgent, sergeant?”

Cassian’s voice had subtly changed, turned heavier and more emphatic. Jyn took a gamble.

“Yes,” she said. Wildly extemporizing, she went on, “That is, not urgent, but I think potentially significant for … for any future posts. I believe it best to confirm with you in person, if that’s acceptable.”

“Yes, certainly,” said Cassian. “I’ll expect you in half an hour, precisely.”

Jyn took a deep breath, all thoughts of hunger fled from her brain. “I’ll be there, sir.”

A good twenty minutes earlier, Cassian found himself gazing at Commander Tor with a neutral expression and his ears ringing. You’re a spy echoed in nauseating circles while he calculated probabilities as fast and well as he could, without Kay.

Ruthlessly, he shoved away the flood of loss and hope. He could see only two routes before him, and one almost certainly impossible. They’d just have to bet on the other.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, yes.”

Tor gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

Logically, Cassian knew that his heart could not actually have stopped. Yet he certainly felt like it had taken up beating again, enough that he clung to the last scraps of fear. Relief, he knew from long experience, could be as great a danger as panic.

He permitted a touch of curiosity to touch his face.

“I had not imagined,” he said, threading his way by each word, “that there would be any need for my services in that capacity. Not here. Surely the Death Star must be secure.”

“It seems so,” allowed Tor. “There is no possibility of any breach in our defenses, of course, and if there were, no weapon to rival it.”

Cassian, ever the good soldier, listened respectfully.

A pity Jyn isn’t around to hear this. Not that she’d dare gloat openly, but she would enjoy it, and he’d see the traces. A sneer of the soul, as it were.

“However,” Tor went on, “as I’m sure you know, the Core worlds provide the bulk of our officers. Coruscant, Brentaal, Corellia.” He settled another meaningful glance at Cassian. “Alderaan.”

The usual irritation was a drop next to the ice in his veins.

“Of course.”

“And the princess of Alderaan is a prisoner on this station. I believe she enjoys a great deal of … local popularity?”

“Yes,” said Cassian.

“That’s to be expected,” Tor said. “No blame to you, Willix, but many of our worst problems have come out of Alderaan. It’s a hotbed of sedition, entire towns have blown themselves to smithereens rather than submit to the rule of law, and resources disappear into the hands of smugglers and pirates.”

Blown themselves to smithereens.

It had been a long, long time since Cassian had to work so hard to keep his expression steady. For a few seconds, he didn’t even realize his teeth were clenched together.

Sloppy, he tried to tell himself, but he’d already flown past that. With perfect clarity, he remembered the dazzling rays of light reflected off the snow, Renalia’s fingers strong and firm about his own smaller ones as she led their way. Firm right up to the moment that she halted just outside of town, her hand dropping. In an instant, she shoved him behind the nearest snowdrift, rougher than she’d ever been with him. It hurt, and then more when she tumbled down over him, but she clapped a hand over his mouth before he could complain.

When she snuck forward to peer about the edges of the snowdrift, Cassian followed, shielding his eyes and squinting until he saw what she did. Clonetroopers marched about the perimeter, the sun flashing off their armour. They hadn’t noticed the two of them yet, but they would find them eventually, and that meant trouble. Nobody was allowed out at this hour, edging past mid-afternoon, without leave. Already, though the sun shone brightly enough that he peered out of half-blinded eyes, Vaesda looked aflame.

Cassian, no. She pulled him back even as he tried to understand. Then, without warning, he felt the good goggles drape over his face, Renalia’s hands tightening the straps on the back of his head. You’ve got to get to the caves. Not by the mines, understand? The far ones. Don’t stop for anything. Don’t make noise. Don’t look back. Just run.

Puzzled, he mumbled, Rana?

You don’t need to know why. Just do it.

He nodded. Cassian and Renalia had their squabbles, but she was five years older, and he idolized her. When she spoke in that tone, he always obeyed.

Promise me.

I promise, he said, all the more confused when she knelt to wrap her arms around him and kiss his hair. She was a kind and affectionate sister, but rarely soft about anything. And he didn’t see how he could run with her holding him like that, though he didn’t mind. He liked hugs more than she did.

I love you, Cassian, she said, almost casually, the way she always said anything that mattered. Then her painful grip on him fell away. Now go.

And Cassian ran. Luck or the Force kept him alive, and his own obedience brought him to the caves beyond the blasterfire and real fire and everything. He only disobeyed once, early on, glancing back as he snuck down towards the city. But he couldn’t see Renalia at all, just a dark shape sprawled on the snow, well past the drift they’d been hiding behind. It couldn’t be her, not unless she’d run forward for some reason, and that didn’t make any sense at all.

He wouldn’t understand until the next day, when the Queen’s men pulled him from the rubble, shouting we’ve got an eighth down here and it’s a child! Until a man with soft robes and soft eyes asked him his name, and he just begged him, where’s Mama? Where’s Rana?—I’m Cassian, Cassian Andor, but Rana—Renalia, my sister, you’ve got to find her—

“—the old senator was a troublemaker since before the Empire, the princess is a traitor and spy, and that queen and the planetary council turn a blind eye to open disrespect for the Emperor.”

Tor halted long enough that Cassian assumed he’d finished his catalogue of Alderaan’s sins.

“I’m aware,” he said. “You’re concerned about the Alderaanian officers?”

“Not you, Willix,” Tor assured him. “You more than proved your loyalty on Scarif. Now it’s time to prove your competence. With certain events”—he stopped, frowning at his hands rather than outwards. Not quite certain of something? Or ashamed. “With Leia Organa imprisoned and slated for execution, we want to know what sort of unpleasantness might result. Alderaan may have produced problems, but it’s produced some damn good officers, too. And Tarkin isn’t above airlocking the lot of you just to be safe.”

“I imagine not,” said Cassian, the words and bland tone automatic. He’d always known that he might die in undercover work; even the best identity could be blown, often by the most trivial mistakes. Though he dreaded the possibility and took every precaution, he understood that discovery would probably mean his death. But Cassian had never imagined dying under an identity, because of it.

One part of him felt almost outraged. Even as a child, he’d always been able to fool or escape Imperials. Not once had the Empire succeeded in capturing him; very rarely had they grasped enough to try. If he died because of that traitor Willix—

The other part, more insistent, thought of Jyn. Bodhi might be able to make it, if he kept his head down. He had no known connection. But Jyn would never keep her head down. She’d keep trying, even without Willix’s documentation shielding Lyr’s total lack of it. Willix’s death would mean Lyr’s transfer, and they would immediately discover that there was nothing to transfer.

Jyn might find a way to survive it, as she survived everything. Cassian knew she’d kept him alive, though he didn’t recall how. His memories of their escape, such as it was, remained a haze of agony and blood and Jyn’s hands on him, in his hair. Very little would astonish him at this point. That said, he trusted that she could find any chance of survival that existed, not that she had some Jedi-like power to manufacture chances that did not exist. If her last chance died with him, that would—no.

“We’re on a tight schedule,” Tor told him. “Half-duty, we can work with that, but we’re talking about a matter of days, here. This is your chance to compensate for your failure with Princess Leia.”

He tried not to feel offended on Willix’s behalf.

“As you know, I’m sure, she refuses to reveal what she knows. That’s where you enter. You’re as Alderaanian as they come.”

Cassian was getting tired of that. “I am, sir?”

With a vague gesture at his face, Tor said, “Look it, sound like it, all of that. It should help.”

He was very tired of that. Nevertheless, he saw the opportunity gleaming beyond his fingertips, for the Rebellion and Jyn and his own survival.

“With Princess Leia?” said Cassian. “I don’t quite follow, commander. The idea that she might be susceptible to one of her own people plainly proved false. I doubt I could get anything out of her that Lord Vader didn’t.”

“Of course not.” Tor looked appalled. “However, if any of the Alderaanian officers retain some sentimentality towards her, her resistance may provoke some of them to attempt contact, or even to break her out. Either would mean the loss of valuable men.”

“What one does, we all pay for?” Cassian kept his voice flat, but a little dry. Even Willix wouldn’t contemplate his own death with perfect sangfroid.

Rather to his surprise, Tor grimaced. 

“I’m afraid so.”

“That would be a loss,” Cassian remarked. “So I am to hunt down any … seeds of sedition among the Alderaanians, until the execution? Is there a particular date?”

“That depends on—various factors,” said Tor. “In any case, it will happen, and soon. Your vigilance will not end there, either. Princess Leia may prove more dangerous as a martyr than a traitor. For now, we’ll begin rotating Alderaanians into her vicinity, and you into taking command of security.”

With a thin smile, Cassian said, “Throw the doors open and see if anyone steps aside?”

“Precisely. In the meanwhile, you can’t investigate the entire station, but you can take the measure of the sector’s Alderaanians at meals and meetings and the like. I’ll send you a list.”

As Tor consulted his datapad, Cassian said,

“I can’t be the only one placed to … observe.”

“Of course not,” said Tor, without looking up. “We would aim to neutralize the threat in any case. This is simply happy coincidence.” Now he did glance over at Cassian, blocky features inscrutable. “An Alderaanian spy landing here is more luck than we ever anticipated. Yet here you are.”

Cassian considered him.

“Yes,” he said. “Here I am.”

It wasn’t the first time Jyn fought the temptation to dash down the halls, toss all her careful work aside to act, however disastrously. But it was certainly the most difficult. She strode towards their quarters at her most determined stalk, letting just enough worry leak through to justify it.

The effort distracted her so much that she didn’t notice a massive figure approaching until he said,

“Sergeant Lyr.”

Pausing, she lifted her eyes. Then she lifted them much higher; if she had to crane up (just a bit) with Cassian, this man forced her entire head back. He must have at least six inches on Cassian, well over a foot on her, and he was built like a mountain. A head of slicked-back yellow hair lent a certain absurdity to him, but couldn’t diminish the overpowering impression of enormity. 

She’d never seen him in her life. Jyn was certain she’d remember if she had. And she remembered everything, anyway.

“Commander,” she said, taking in the squares at his breast, and then making a leap—“Tor?”

He gave a crisp nod, and a clap on her shoulder that nearly brought her to her knees. “Good luck.”

With that, he passed on down the hall, leaving Jyn with considerably less terror and considerably more confusion. A high Imperial officer coming this far to—what? Welcome a subordinate onboard?

Frowning, she darted into the quarters. To her total lack of surprise, Cassian wasn’t resting, but pacing the chamber with some sort of humming device in his hand. He seemed completely unhurt: better than he’d looked since before he fell, in fact, if thinner and slower.

“Cassi—”

He held up his hand, which would have been infuriating, if not for the fact that she didn’t rush into rage for no reason. She could put two and two together.

Jyn snapped her fingers and mouthed scanner?

Cassian nodded.

“Sorry it took so long, captain,” she said. “Damn elevators.”

Cassian made a short, laugh-adjacent sound. “Can’t disagree with you there. I’m fine, anyway.”

The scanner’s hum remained low and constant.

“No pain?”

Pausing, he actually looked taken aback. “No, actually.”

Jyn narrowed her eyes. “When did you last take your analgesics?”

“After you left,” said Cassian. “About three hours ago.” He switched off the scanner and exhaled. “Well, if he left equipment, I can’t find it.”

“Commander Tor?” At his sharp glance, she added, “I met him, if you can call it that, in the hall. He wished me good look and just about crushed my collarbone.”

With a slant of his mouth that needed no interpretation, Cassian said, “He is tall.”

“He is horrifying,” she retorted. “What was he doing here?”

“He realized that I am a spy,” said Cassian, with perfect calm. He placed the scanner in an open kit on his bed.

“What?” Jyn thought about Tor’s cordial greeting in the hall. “Wait—what?”

“An Imperial spy,” he amended. “Supposedly based on Willix’s posts, but it should be in the file. That’s how I was able to get …” Cassian gestured vaguely at the closet, then walked over, kit in hand, and neatly stacked it. “Everything.”

“Right, you’re a quadruple agent, or whatever it was.” Letting her muscles relax, Jyn tossed her cap—she particularly hated the Imperial hats—onto her bed. She pressed her hands against her back until it cracked.

“Triple,” Cassian said. He turned back to the closet, fixing some trivial problem he must have noticed. “I think.”

Jyn yawned. Though curious about whatever their supposed commander had wanted, the panicked urgency had drained away. Mostly, she felt tired. Dinner and then the hours consumed by Esten’s nightly examination loomed ahead.

We’re alive, she reminded herself. They had their limbs; Jyn and Bodhi had perfect health, in fact, and Cassian would soon. If they survived. The grind of inconvenience and danger couldn’t compare to death and horror.

“He wants us to spy on someone?” She wandered about the room, checking the locations of all the hidden blasters. No changes there.

At first, Cassian didn’t say anything. Maybe he was distracted by whatever had bothered him in the closet, but if so, only briefly. He emerged while Jyn was still surveying blasters, his implication of a smile deepening when he saw her. Not mocking, not even amused—she couldn’t have said what, exactly, it was.

“Multiple someones,” he said. With no more explanation than she had offered, he yanked the blanket off her bed and tossed it into the laundry chute. As he did, and after they sat on their respective beds, Cassian reported the entire conversation he’d had with Tor. Word-for-word, she suspected.

“It’s a trap,” said Jyn.

“Of course.” Tentatively, he leaned forward enough to drop his arms on his thighs, bringing their eyes nearly level. “The only question is for whom.”

Jyn searched his face, her own mind racing. “Do you seriously think they’re concerned about Alderaanians defecting to help the princess?”

“It’s possible,” he said, startling her. “The Organas are very much beloved on Alderaan. More than they were under the Republic. If Commander Tor can be trusted that far, there is no intention of letting Princess Leia live. Any bargain they might offer is a lie. People have defected over less.”

Her brows rose. “Really?”

“Yes, though I don’t think it’s at all likely that these ones would,” Cassian said. “Not here. Someone like Tor considering that they might, though? Perhaps.”

“All right, perhaps.” She tried to think over all the details stuffing her head. “He didn’t say anything about Aldera?”

“Not directly,” said Cassian. Turning his face to the side, a little, he wet his lip. “But he did specify that he wanted the observation to continue past the princess’s execution. He seemed—I wouldn’t say upset, but …”

“Troubled?” Jyn suggested.

“Yes.” He looked back at her, steady again.

“If they are planning to attack Aldera,” she said, half to herself, “then that is what they’re really worried about, isn’t it? Imperial officers on this thing would probably shrug off the death of a traitor, no matter who it is. Destroying their capital and wrecking a good chunk of the planet around it? That’s different.”

“Very different,” said Cassian grimly. “Alderaan has no weapons. Even officers on the Death Star might think twice about seeing their planet attacked for no reason. Of course, there’s another possibility.”

“It could be a trap for us,” Jyn said. Always alert to danger, she couldn’t help but favour that option. “They’re putting you in the perfect position to communicate with Princess Leia. Even to help her escape, if we take the chance.”

He nodded. “Exactly. It’s very elaborate for potential mid-level traitors, but if they suspect we’re spies for the Rebellion, identifying and questioning us becomes important.”

“Right.” She felt a certain warmth at we’re spies for the Rebellion, at the sheer truth of it. And a little at the sheer ease with which he folded them together—Cassian, a hardened Alliance agent of twenty years, and Jyn, guerrilla soldier turned thief turned thief for the Rebellion. Rebel spies had a nice ring to it.

“Well,” said Cassian, “either is likely enough. So there is only one thing we can do, at the moment.”

“Wait and see,” Jyn supplied. It better have a nice ring, for this. “We can’t contact her.”

“Not yet.” Something like her own frustration settled on his face. Like all his expressions, though, it passed quickly. He straightened up, resolute again. “But we’ll be there.”

[tryafandom-blog]

Found a List

The real list is on Slash Films: https://www.slashfilm.com/disney-movies-and-tv-shows-list/ 

Here’s the copy-pasted version:

Movies

10 Things I Hate About You

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

101 Dalmatians (1961)

101 Dalmatians (1996)

101 Dalmatians 2: Patch’s London Adventure

102 Dalmatians

(500) Days of Summer

The Absent-Minded Professor

The Adventures of André and Wally B.

Adventures in Babysitting (1987)

Adventures in Babysitting (2016

The Adventures of Bullwhip Griffin

The Adventures of Huck and Finn

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad

The African Lion

Aladdin

Aladdin and the King of Thieves

Aladdin II: The Return of Jafar

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Alice in Wonderland (1951)

Alice in Wonderland (2010)

Alice Through the Looking Glass

Aliens of the Deep

Alley Cats Strike

Almost Angels

America’s Heart and Soul

Amy

An Extremely Goofy Movie

Annie

Ant-Man

Ant-Man and The Wasp

Apollo: Missions to the Moon

The Apple Dumpling Gang

The Apple Dumpling Gang Rides Again

The Aristocats

Around the World in 80 Days

Atlantis: Milo’s Return

Atlantis Rising

Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Avalon High

The Avengers

Avengers: Infinity War

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Avengers: Endgame

Babes in Toyland

Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend

Bad Hair Day

Bambi

Bambi 2

The Band Concert

Bao

The Barefoot Executive

The Bears and I

Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Beauty and the Beast (2017)

Beauty and the Beast: Belle’s Magical World

Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas

Beauty and the Briefcase

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

Bedtime Stories

Before the Flood

Benji the Hunted

Beverly Hills Chihuahua

Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2

Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta

The BFG

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[bird-in-the-space]

Case 56: The End of Evil

You uncovered the whole truth and confronted Palpatine. Now you are on the run as he activated the inhibitor chips and sent your own dear partner to hunt you down.

Warnings: Palpatine himself being a warning, getting chased and hunted, falling inside a lift, broken bones, bleeding, getting shot in the head, attempted character kill, scheming, and arrest.

------------------------------------

The investigation was a success. With the help of Fox and a few others, you uncovered the whole truth about the inhibitor chips and Palpatine. The inhibitor chips were implanted by the Kaminoans and were designed to make the clones follow specific contingency plans without question. You uncovered that it was Count Dooku who ordered the creation of the clones, but his master, the Sith lord, who orchestrated the whole war. All led to one specific plan which involved the destruction of the Jedi Order. And the man responsible for it all was the supreme chancellor himself. 

You were thrilled to find the truth and the proof of it all. Fox now had no doubts about turning against Palpatine after you showed him the truth. Together, you formulated a plan to expose the man and decided to give the evidence only to the Jedi Order and a few senators you trusted. 

You knew it would be a huge risk to confront Palpatine, so you revealed the truth to the rest of the CG who were willing to arrest the man, and asked Senator Amidala to bear as your witness after showing her the evidence. She was more than willing to see Palpatine arrested and agreed to accompany you. 

You had time to prevent the worst outcome, thus you set the plan into action. You had Bail Organa deliver the news and present the evidence to the Jedi Council while you, Amidala, and Fox confronted the supreme chancellor. Unfortunately, you underestimated the chancellor’s cleverness. 

Palpatine had been aware of your investigation, and after you called out his plans and identity as the Sith lord, he activated the chips. Apparently, he had a contingency plan just for you and now all the CG were ordered to execute you for treason against the Republic and the chancellor. 

Luckily, you were quick enough to escape the chancellor’s office but now you and Amidala were forced into hiding in the Senate building. Palpatine seemed to have planned it as there weren’t others in the building, except for Chuchi who had been suspicious of your activities and wanted to see what was going on, so now, you had two senators to protect from Palpatine and the rest of CG who were hunting you. You were completely locked from the outside world as you couldn't even use your coms to call for help. You had to use your wits and hope Organa and the Jedi Order realized you were in danger. 

It did not help when it was Fox, who was hunting you. 

You did not wish to hurt him yet despite everything you did to slow him down, the chip made him chase you like a mad dog. 

During this time, Palpatine, or Darth Sidious watched from the security cameras, enjoying the view as your dear partner chased you around the building. He confessed to everything and congratulated you as he had considered you the largest threat to his plans if you ever caught a niff of his involvement. He feigned how it was a pity for the people that their most beloved detective would die as a traitor for killing the two most beloved senators and trying to kill him. 

It was no big surprise that he would have Amidala and Chuchi killed with you, and then paint you as the villain. So when you three tried to escape through the lift, Palpatine had the wires cut, causing the lift to plummet to the bottom. You pushed Amidala and Chuchi out of the lift, trusting them to stay hidden till help arrived.

You heard them scream out to you as you fell with the lift. You managed to focus and use enough force to slow down the lift so that you didn’t die from the impact. However, the crash was powerful enough to cause broken bones, and you were forced to crawl out with a broken leg and bruises deep enough to bleed. 

So now here you were, helplessly leaning against the wall with a broken leg. You were in a deep hole as you couldn’t move with your leg and were in the direct view of one of the security cameras. It wouldn’t take long for Fox to find you and finish the job. 

You were right as Fox was the one who stood before you, silent and ready to shoot you with his blaster. 

“I must say, my dear detective. You are one of the most dangerous foes I have ever faced. You would have made a powerful Sith and an ally with that kind of intelligence. It is a pity this game has to end this soon,” Palpatine’s voice came through the speaker. 

You grinned while breathing heavily from the pain. “Maybe… too bad I enjoy the thrill of exposing evil,” 

You heard him chuckle. “Your efforts were admirable. Perhaps it will be a beautiful irony to have you killed by your own dear partner. Do not worry… I shall remember this game with fondness,” he stated. 

A dry chuckle escaped you. “If you wanted to make this ironic, you should have allowed him to kill me as himself. I do not enjoy this silence,” You glanced at Fox. “Fox. If you’re in there, please say something, lecture me even so I can know it is you and not some meat droid the civies see you as,” you dramatically pleaded. 

“I’m afraid all he could think about is following the order through. Prepare to eliminate her, commander,” Palpatine ordered, making Fox aim at you. 

“One more thing!” You raised your hand. “If you allow it chancellor… I wish to see Fox face-to-face when I die. I want the last thing I see to be the face of my dear partner, not some soldier who thinks like a droid. Please, I will even beg if you grant my wish.” You gripped your hands together. 

“Very well. For entertaining me, I shall honor this one wish. Remove your helmet, commander,” Palpatine said. 

Fox then used his one hand to remove his helmet. He then looked at you with cold and disregarding eyes as he aimed his blaster at you. 

“Now that’s a more pleasant sight…” You smiled. 

Fox then aimed at you, the red dot hovering above your head. 

“Any last words, detective?” Palpatine questioned. 

“Only this one thing for my dear partner,” You looked Fox in the eye. “Fox… I know this won’t be over,” You muttered. 

“Eliminate her, commander,” 

Fox then pulled the trigger. The shot echoed across the corridor, allowing Palpatine to see through the security camera as your body slummed against the wall after the shot. He could see blood form around you and could not sense any spark of life within you through the force. He grinned at his victory. 

“Sir, Senator Amidala, and Chuchi have been found. What shall we do with them?” One of the guardsmen asked through the comlink. Palpatine saw them through one of the cameras, the two women were horrified after seeing your death. 

“Execute them for aiding the traitor,” He ordered. 

“The Jedi are coming. What shall we do with them?” Mas Amedda asked as they could see LAAT fighters nearing the Senate building. 

“Had the emergency call been sent to them?” Palpatine asked. 

“Yes,” Amedda nodded. 

“Then we shall deliver the news that the treacherous detective (Name) (Lastname) has been eliminated and the misfortune that the Senators Amidala and Chuchi did not survive the vicious attack,” Palpatine stood up from his chair. 

“What about the guards now that their chips have been activated?” Amedda asked as they began leaving. 

“Do not worry. If the Kaminoans kept their promises, the Coruscant Guard shall remain loyal even after activating their inhibitor chips. It is more important that the chips in the grand army remain prepared for order 66, and this incident remains as a treacherous attack against the Republic,” Palpatine explained as they left the senate building. 

As they waited at the platform, Palpatine sensed Anakin’s presence and grinned within his mind as the death of Padme would allow him the opportunity to turn Skywalker to the path of the dark side. He mildly thanked you for the opportunity and prepared as the clones and many Jedi masters jumped out of the ships. 

“Jedi masters. I am so glad you are here. I am saddened to—” Palpatine prepared his speech but then he was interrupted by Master Windu. 

“Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine. You are arrested for your treachery against the Republic and conspiracy against the Jedi,” Mace Windu declared, causing Palpatine to stare at them with widened eyes. 

“Treachery? What on earth…” Palpatine backed away. 

“We have the evidence!” Bail Organa pointed at him. “Detective (Lastname) provided all the evidence needed to prove your identity as the Sith lord and the truth of the inhibitor chips. We also know the detective along with Senator Amidala came to confront you. “ He added. 

“Then suddenly we get an emergency call of a detective trying to assassinate the chancellor and senator Amidala,” Mace Windu said. 

“Where is she?” Anakin looked around. 

“This… this is a vile accusation! I would never… ” Palpatine was interrupted by a familiar voice. 

“Anakin!” Yelled Padmed as she ran out of the building with Chuchi and other Coruscant guards behind her.

“Padme. Are you hurt?” Anakin asked as she embraced him. 

“It was all true. Palpatine is the man behind all of this. He ordered the Coruscant guard to attack us to keep us silenced,” she explained. “And detective (Name).... she was,” Chuchi said sorrowfully. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Amedda uttered. Suddenly the guardsmen around them pointed their weapons at him and Palpatine. 

“Grand Vizier Amedda, Supreme Chanchelor Palpatine. You are arrested for treason against the Republic and attempted murder of detective (Lastname), Senator Amidala, and Senator Chuchi,” Thire pointed his blaster at them. 

“Okay. What is going on?” Anakin asked in confusion. 

“Oh, the maker! That went better than I expected!” A voice called out. 

Everyone turned to look as Fox walked out of the building, carrying you on his back. Your broken leg was put into a cast and you grinned while waving Fox’s helmet in your hand. 

“Thought… it would have been much better if you guys showed up much sooner,” You added as Padme and Chuchi looked at you with shock. 

“(Name)? You’re alive?!” Padme exclaimed. 

“Of course I’m alive. I’m just too great to die that easily,” You said, causing Fox to roll his eyes at you. 

“How is this possible?! We all saw you get shot in the head!” Amedda demanded. 

“Oh, that?” You touched your forehead which was untouched. “Yeah, this dumbass was supposed to go easy on me,” You ruffled Fox’s hair who only scoffed at your dramatic. “But to answer your question… I focused enough force to prevent the bullet from hitting me but make it believable enough to look like I was shot. It’s an old trick I used to trick a dangerous crime syndicate into thinking I’m dead,” You explained with a smile. 

“Still one of your worst tricks to this day,” Fox uttered. 

“Anyway, I hope the evidence and my witnesses are satisfied enough to arrest our good chancellor for his crimes?” You looked at the Jedis. 

“Indeed… since it seems the Coruscant Guard were in the scheme as well,” Plo Koon pointed out. 

“We had the chips removed once (Name) showed us the proof. We apologize for the trouble senators,” Stone said beside Padme and Chuchi. 

“It’s alright, commander, but why didn’t you tell us that Fox and the other guards were not under Palpatine’s control?” Padme asked, looking at you. 

“We needed solid proof and witnesses as I exposed him, and I thought it was clear by how they missed on purpose when they were shooting at us,” You answered.  

“They did?” Padme looked more confused. 

“I believe we have seen and heard enough. Commander, arrest these men,” Mace Windu ordered. 

“With pleasure,” Thire said as he and the rest of the guard took care of cuffing Palpatine and his advisor. 

“This is an outrage. I was set up!” Palpatine tried to explain as he and Amedda were taken on the ships. 

“Shut up. You are going behind bars for a long time,” Thire pushed him forward. Mace Windu turned toward you. “I will make sure our good chancellor will not try to escape,” He said, joining the guards on the ships. 

“Bye! Bye!” You waved as they began leaving. Palpatine only glared at you till he was out of sight.

You hopped off Fox’s back and held onto him for support as Master Yoda, Plo Koon, Kenobi, and Skywalker stood before you and the senators. 

“Great service, you have done for the Republic and the Jedi. However, your plan. Reckless, it was,” Yoda stated. 

“With all due respect, Master Yoda. When have my plans not been reckless?” You grinned. “And besides… I was not alone,” You glanced at Fox. 

“Now that we know the truth about the inhibitor chips. I suggest we start removing them from the rest of the clones to ensure that whatever Palpatine had planned will never come to fruition,” Kenobi said. 

“Indeed. We should also investigate the Kaminoans as they had been involved with this plot along with Count Dooku,” Plo Koon nodded. 

“You know, (Name). The Jedi Order could use your skills further to solve this war,” Kenobi looked toward you. 

“I already did most of the work. You can handle the rest, and besides I’m very happy with my current job,” You replied. 

“Very well. We should then start with removing the chips,” Kenobi stated. 

“We should reveal this to the Senate. They should hear all that Palpatine had done and that it was he who orchestrated the war,” Padme said. “This should allow us an opportunity to open peace talks with the Separatists as they had also been fooled into this war,” She added. 

“I can’t believe he was the Sith all along…” Anakin uttered. 

“Nah. Don’t blame yourself. He was good enough to fool me for a while until Fives came to my door and gave me the right clues to start digging. I guess we can finally close this case and say we have finished what he started,” You slapped your hands together. 

“(Name), will you be willing to testify in front of the Senate?” Padme turned toward you.  

“You have Chuchi for that, or you can ask the rest of the guard. I just wanna rest for a while, and perhaps rest my broken leg,” You pointed at the cast on your leg. 

“I will call a shuttle to take you to the hospital. “ Organa said. “Lovely,” You smiled. 

Padme turned toward Chuchi. “We should get started gathering the evidence and prepare our speech with the senate. “ She said. Chuchi nodded. “Yes. Let’s do that,”

The senators then began discussing among themselves as the Jedi masters left to handle the rest of the tasks, minus Anakin, who wanted to stay with his wife. You had an intuition that he might leave the order for her after the war is solved. 

“Hey, Rex,” Fox said, and the clone captain looked at him. 

“I just… wanted to say I’m sorry for shooting Fives,” Fox said. 

“It’s alright, Fox. Thanks for making sure his death was not in vain,” He nodded and left with Skywalker and the two women. 

You looked at Fox. “How do you feel now that this is over?” 

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I am glad that he’s locked up and we possibly avoided the worst, but I don’t know how to think,” 

“What if we didn’t remove the chips and I actually shot you dead?” He questioned, looking at you. 

“Then it's good that we were smarter than that,” You patted his shoulder. 

“I’m serious, (Name). I do not think I would have been able to live with myself if I killed you,” Fox said seriously. 

You looked at him softly. “Oh, Fox. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Like I said before I rather have you kill me as yourself, not as some soldier who thinks like a droid. And come on, you should know me. I would have never allowed myself to die that easily,” You said. 

“But even as myself I could never kill you,” He uttered. 

“I know… but guess what? We can take a long break now that we put the evil behind bars. “ You grinned. “You definitely could use some time out from this city,” You added. 

“I do not think vacation is that easy for me,” He said. 

“I have my ways, darling. “ You grinned as the shuttle arrived to take you to the hospital. 

“Will you at least accompany me to the hospital? I will get lonely,” You teased, causing him to roll his eyes at you again. He then smiled with a soft look. “Fine,” He said, helping you in the shuttle as you were taken to the hospital where you two spent a peaceful respite after such a long night.

[bird-in-the-space]

Case 24: Chip

An incident that left a mark on you and allowed the Coruscant Guard to learn what will happen when you get angry.

Warnings: kinda from Fox's pov, death of a character, gangs, violence, criminal investigating, trials, comfort, and angst.

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It started from a normal day. You were in the office, lazying around like usual till a shiny came to you and asked about your skills in solving cases. Fox half expected you to boast about your intelligence but surprisingly, you gave a simple explanation and then invited the young guard to accompany you to a thieving case to give a first-hand demonstration and make it into a learning experience. Chip was the shiny’s name. From what Fox had heard, Chip admired you and built the courage to approach you. He commended the young Corrie’s courage because you had a reputation for scaring the shinies when they first came to Coruscant and met you. 

The encounter was not the last and you decided to bring Chip along to simple cases, claiming him as your temporal assistant. 

Fox was not worried by this development, he knew he could trust you to look out for young Corrie’s well-being, and that you teaching the shinies a thing or two about Coruscant was not unusual. It helped him feel more at ease for their safety since Coruscant had its dangers, some being the criminals and some being those with less positive views of the clones. 

You began spending more time with the young Corrie, taking him on simple cases you would have considered too easy and teaching him to find clues. Fox could not help but observe a little. He enjoyed the peace now that you were distracted by something else, but you genuinely seemed to enjoy teaching the young Corrie. When you partnered with him on a more difficult case, Fox could not help but ask about your special liking for the young clone which only made you joke about having a temporal ‘padawan’ 

Chip was a curious young clone and a fast learner, you did not mind teaching those with a good sense of justice and the energy to learn. 

Fox was satisfied with the answer, but the time you spent less with him and more with the shiny slowly began to bug him a little. He was used to your presence and nagging, thus the new peace and quiet slowly bothered him. Even though he did enjoy half of it, he was someone who preferred to keep up with the routines. Unfortunately, Thorn took notice and teased him for it. 

“Jealous that Detective (Lastname) is spending more time with the shiny?” Thorn grinned when Fox observed you telling a story to Chip, who seemed too engrossed and amazed for his own good. 

“Not really. I kinda enjoy the peace since she’s spending less time on my ass,” Fox replied, causing Thorn to snort. “And besides, having more guards with her skill set is not a bad idea,” 

“Sure… Whatever you say,” Thorn only shook his head. 

As this continued, Fox decided to bring the young Corrie with him to a patrol and test how much he had learned. He was impressed when Chip managed to point out some details he nearly missed, then concluded that perhaps letting Chip spend more time with you wasn’t a bad idea, he only hoped the young Corrie would not adopt your sense of humor and thrill for excitement.

It lasted a few months with you training the young Corrie. Fox was relieved you took the training half seriously and did not take complete advantage of the young clone because it was not usual for you to push your extra work on others to avoid it. You were never a fan of doing any type of paperwork. Then the fateful day arrived when Chip was sent to investigate thug activity in the mid-levels. You wished him good luck and seemed to have faith, thus Fox didn’t feel he needed to worry. Unfortunately, things took a darker turn when Chip contacted you. 

You were spinning around the chair without care, joking with Stone before you heard a beep from your communicator. 

“Hey, Chippie! How’s the patrol going? Don’t tell me you already need a hint?” You replied with a grin. 

“Code… Angel’s call…” Came through Chip’s weak voice. 

You and everyone in the office froze when he uttered those words. It was a code for immediate need for backup and that his life was in danger. 

“Where?” You asked, your voice falling serious. 

“In the thirteen level… inside the warehouse,” He answered as you all stood up, grabbing your gear. 

“Okay… hold on. We’re coming,” You replied as you, Fox, and Stone quickly left the office with other guards in pursuit. 

Remembering where Chip and three other guards were sent to investigate, you quickly found the place. Unfortunately, Chip and the other guards who were with him were found dead. Chip was leaning against the wall, having succumbed to his wounds after making the call. It was clear that he and the three other guards were ambushed and killed in the process. It was done by a dangerous gang you and the CG were familiar with as they had left one of their symbols in the scene. They did not usually come to the upper levels so it was clear the ambush was planned– to simply kill and cause their victims to die as painfully as possible. 

The scene was horrible. Fox took notice of how quiet you became as you stared at Chip’s lifeless body. You did not move or make any poor remarks. Fox had never seen you in such a way as you were rarely bothered by anything, not even with a lifeless body, but this time you were quiet and watching as Stone and the others took Chip and the other dead Corries away in body bags. 

You watched when their bodies were taken away before silently inspecting the crime scene. It didn’t even take five minutes before you spoke to Stone, taking the case and leaving. 

Fox rarely saw you in the office after that. When you did, you only came to store the evidence and the clues you found before leaving again. You were quiet and focused and in your eyes, Fox could see one thing he thought he would never see, anger. He doesn’t think he has ever seen you angry before. You were always carefree and solved the case effortlessly, but now you were focused and silent. In two days, you had already gathered more evidence on the gang no one thought was even possible. 

On the third day, you called them in for support and arrest as you had found the gang and the culprits responsible for Chips’s death. When Fox and the others got there, you had already apprehended them. It was obvious there was a fight as the whole gang had been beaten to a bloody bulb with broken bones and whip marks. You used blasters and the force when necessary, but this time you had brought your whip and personally subdued the criminals into a state that they would need surgery to recover. 

The arrest was swift and Fox decided to let you be instead of giving you a lecture about following protocols and calling in support before confronting criminals. He decided it would be unwise in your silent state. 

The trial was quick as you had collected all the evidence required to give them a life sentence. You had even convinced someone in charge of many underground networks to testify against them, even though this person had been suspected of aiding the gang many times yet avoided arrest through immunity. When the trial was over Fox asked them why they agreed to testify. 

“When it comes to detective (Lastname), I will not risk putting out my business just for some gang who thought it would be a good idea to harm someone she cares about even the slightest. We have a mutual understanding, so it's all fun and games. However, when she is angry it is best to give her what she wants. Otherwise, she might just ensure you will suffer something worse than death,” They said. 

Fox nearly felt put off by what they said. He knew you had made some enemies in the underground and had a reputation that allowed most criminals to stay put. However, he wasn’t aware you had a reputation that even a known criminal mastermind would be too afraid to cross you.

After the trial was over, you didn’t appear at the office. Fox and the others felt worried but understood you needed time for yourself. Fox decided to check on you at your home when the weekend came. 

He first asked about your status from your neighbors, who told him that you had been mourning about something inside your home.  He shared what had happened and they became more sympathetic and understanding. 

Fox nearly hesitated to knock on your door but decided to go with it. You opened the door and welcomed him inside. You seemed normal at first, but once inside your apartment, Fox took notice of the large difference in your behavior. You lacked the usual energy to tease him for his visits, didn’t make snarky comments, and showed vulnerability he didn’t know was even possible. He was put off by it but understood the case might have taken a toll on you.

You two talked on your couch. He softly coerced you to talk about the whole thing and your feelings about it, thinking it might help.

“I guess this is one of the reasons why the Jedi Order forbids attachments. “ You stated.  

“I don’t deny that we should not have them. People can come and go. Death is a natural part of life… “ You explained. “However, I just couldn’t let it go after what happened with Chip. I can get easily pissed off when some people disregard life or kill for petty reasons,” You rubbed your brows. 

“Chip was a good lad. He had a good sense of justice and would have made a fine detective one day. He died too early in his life,” Your tone fell sad. 

“When I found those bastards, they just laughed and questioned why I should be angry about the death of some clones,” You remembered the moment you confronted the gang. “I became so pissed and whipped them so hard that they started begging with tears in their eyes. I considered doing the same for what they did to Chip. To make them die as slowly and painfully as possible. I don’t know how I kept it in,” You confessed. 

“Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same…” Fox uttered. 

Fox allowed you to ramble the thoughts away. He didn’t judge you. He considered your anger and beating of those thugs justified enough. He would have most likely not blamed you if you killed them and called it an act of self-defense. 

When he left, you thanked him for his visit and assured him you would be back in the next week. When the weekend passed and you returned to the office, the other Corries asked about your well-being, expressing their concerns. You assured them that you were fine and that the incident would pass. Fox couldn't blame them for worrying, seeing you solve a case and be so ruthless toward criminals was not normal to them either. 

The week passed as normally as possible, but surprisingly criminals had been quiet since the incident came to the public. You returned to your usual personality, but Fox and the rest of the Coruscant Guard came to learn how dangerous you could be when angry. You also never took another assistant after the incident.

[bird-in-the-space]

The Greatest Detective of Coruscant

You are the best detective Coruscant has ever seen. With your brilliant mind and abilities with force, you solve many cases with your partner, Commander Fox, and uncover secrets that might just reveal the truth behind the war.

Warnings: Fox x reader pairing, some violence depicted, annoyed Fox, risk-taking (More will be added in the future)

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Imagine being the most famous detective on Coruscant

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Cases:

Case 24: Chip

Case 55: The Hidden Evil

Case 56: The End of Evil

[bird-in-the-space]

Case 55: The Hidden Evil

After the incident with a clone trooper named Fives, you discover some important details and ask Fox to join you in uncovering the secret behind the inhibitor chips.

(Author note: In the headcanon, I wrote reader saving Fives from his fate, so this is a little AU because I wanted angst)

Warnings: mentions of drugs, conspiracy theories, chasing, death of a character, some angst, Fox having a hard time, reader investigating, and Palpatine being suspicious.

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The whole thing was a mess.

When the clone trooper, Fives, crashed at your place to plead for your help in revealing a dark truth he had discovered about Palpatine and these things called inhibitor chips. His story roused your interest and suspicion, so you agreed even though his behavior was strange and erratic like a crazed theorist. When you noticed symptoms that were usual for people under the influence of drugs, you took a blood sample from him even though it took some convincing. However, before you could have him checked out, Fox and most of the GAR army came to your doors. Their appearances freaked him out and he ran away before you could do anything. That’s when you knew it was serious. 

Your dear Fox had a feeling Fives came to you thus most of the CG came, worried the rogue clone might have done something to you. You questioned about the situation and he was kind enough to fill you in on the case. Apparently, Fives has removed his behavior chip which caused him to go mad and attempt to kill the supreme chancellor. This roused your suspicions further since Fives told you a different story and his behavior did not match the description. 

It was not unusual for people to come to you when they needed someone to prove their innocence. You cared about the truth and you smelled something foul going on with these chips and the supreme chancellor. 

You joined the chase to investigate, convincing Fox and the others to capture Fives alive since you needed him to tell the whole story. Fox told you they were under direct orders to eliminate him which made you even more curious. It took you opening a case for suspected setting up of your client which convinced them to capture Fives alive because due to the rules of your contract, the clones are to assist and not intervene with your investigation unless necessary. Fox found this annoying but agreed since it was serious. 

Unfortunately, the chase would come to a quick end when you located Fives in one of the underground warehouses. He had trapped Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex, trying to share his story. It did not look good and the sight of you and the rest of the CG freaked him out that he aimed a blaster at you. You tried to calm him down but unfortunately, Fox reacted first, shooting the clone down with a lethal bullet. Fives died in his captain's arms, making it a sad sight and you were unable to hear the rest of the story. However, you did manage to catch his words about nightmares before his last breath which bugged you the wrong way. 

It was a messy night. The clone trooper’s body was taken into custody by the orders of Palpatine who later revealed to you and the Jedi masters that the cause of the whole thing was a type of parasite that infected the clones and caused their descent to madness. You found it suspicious as the Republic had been sharp about the physical well-being of its clones since that one incident that involved mind-controlling parasites from Geonosis. How did this parasite manage to get by unnoticed? 

It was also the first time you heard about the incident involving another clone trooper killing a Jedi because of the malfunctioning chip. 

Things took a stranger turn when Palpatine questioned you about Fives and the things the clone trooper told you. You decided to play it safe and said to him that Fives was unclear in his story and that you suspected he was under the influence of some drugs. Palpatine seemed satisfied with your answer, even providing you with an answer that the effects of a parasite could seem like the person was drugged. You found him strange as he seemed relieved you didn’t know something. You closed the case before his eyes and pretended you were satisfied with the parasite story. 

Of course, you were not satisfied with the story. There were too many inconsistencies and the whole thing just reeked with foulness, something was going on, something Palpatine did not want you especially to find out. 

You first met up with a friend, who worked as a doctor in the underground levels and had them check out the blood sample you had from Fives for drugs. The result came back positive and your friend informed you it was a type of drug that would cause the patient to become highly paranoid and erratic. The symptoms fit the bill and it was enough to have your full attention on the case. 

Fives did not act that way because of some parasite. To know more about the incident with the other clone and the dead Jedi, you decided to ask about it from Rex and Anakin as they were there when it happened. Rex was still mourning the loss of his closest brothers but explained in detail how ‘Tup’ suddenly lost it and killed a Jedi knight during a firefight. His behavior was strange thus he was sent to Kamino with Fives, where he later died and the whole thing with the inhibitor chips began. 

This raised more questions but it confirmed one of your suspicions. The clone Tup targeted Jedis specifically after his chip malfunctioned. You shared little on that and how you found it strange Tup did not attack anyone else. You reasoned it could have been pent-up aggression over some grudge, but Rex assured Tup was not someone who held grudges, confirming your other suspicions. If Fives was also infected with this parasite why didn’t his chip malfunction? Why did the parasite only affect him when the chip was out? 

You already knew the answer to those questions, but you bid the two farewell and inspected all the info you found. 

Fives had the right idea, and Palpatine was trying to hide it. It required a special secret investigation, and for you to dig deeper, you needed Fox’s help. 

Fox might have not shown it, but he was affected by the incident. He wanted to make himself believe that he was following orders and that it was necessary, but he had always been an open book to you. You had worked with him for years after all. He was a stickler for rules, but shooting another clone was something that would never come to him naturally. You actually feel worried about how he would react when you show him the evidence you have found. However, to uncover the truth, you needed his help. 

You invited him to talk to you at your apartment, convincing him that it was important. When he finally arrived, you pulled him in and revealed the results of your investigation.

“Palpatine lied about the cause. That clone trooper did not go mad because of some parasite or because he was without his chip,” You started. 

“What do you mean?” Fox asked after taking off his helmet. 

“Take a look at this,” You handed him the datapad that showed the Five’s blood sample and positive result of drugs. “That is the drug result of a blood sample I took from that clone because I suspected he was under the influence. Turns out I was right. He was under the influence of a mind-clouding drug that caused him to become extremely paranoid and seem crazy. And the fun part is that drug is highly illegal, thus not even the most effective drug dealers would be able to find it, ” You explained. 

“That is why he acted like a crazed man,” You stated as Fox read the results twice. 

Fox looked at you with a frown. “But if that’s the case then where did he consume such a drug?” He asked. 

“He didn’t. It was given to him without his will.” You replied. “You told me he was still apprehended and seemed normal when he arrived on Coruscant, right?” You asked. 

“Correct,” Fox nodded. 

“Then how come he suddenly freaks out when left alone with the supreme chancellor and starts acting like a crazed conspiracy theorist?” You questioned. “That means the drug was given to him when they arrived on Coruscant, and my guess is that it was a medical officer who did it, which then amplified his reaction after being left alone with Palpatine.” 

“He then freaks out, attacking the supreme chancellor, and runs away, claiming Palpatine is involved with a dark conspiracy against the Jedi. He couldn’t have freaked out and come up with this on his own, thus there was something Palpatine told him that caused the drug to take effect.” You said, walking forth and back.

“You are then ordered to eliminate him because he was dangerous, and now that he’s dead, Palpatine explains that it was some kind of parasite that caused his and the other clone’s chip’s malfunctions. I find it strange because Fives showed me the chips and his was completely intact.” You explained. 

“And now, his blood shows positive results of a drug that is highly illegal on Coruscant. There are also other inconsistencies regarding the other clone who killed a Jedi after the malfunction but all leads to one conclusion…” You turned toward him.

“Fives was onto something and Palpatine set him up to keep him silenced.” You stated. 

Fox was quiet, but you could sense his discord. He was sometimes rash but he never denied the evidence. 

“But… why would he do such a thing?” 

“Because there’s something foul going on with these chips, and the supreme chancellor is trying to hide it.” You replied. 

“Then… does that mean that I… killed him to protect something dark?” He asked as shock settled in. 

“You were ordered to eliminate him. I convinced you out of it. You shot him out of reaction but he did seem like he was going to shoot me. However, there is something dark going on,” You said, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Fox… I need your help in this. I can dig deeper to uncover the whole truth, but I need your aid because I think Palpatine will try to stop me if he knew about this,” You explained. “I suspect something sinister will happen if we leave this be, something in the future that will be the end of both the Jedi and the clones,”

“We have worked many cases together and unsolved many mysteries. So, I ask you to place your trust in me for a big time. Fives tried to reveal something big and he was silenced for it. We can make up for his death by uncovering the truth,” You said. 

“If I hide this… it might end up badly for both of us,” Fox said. “It might be worse if we don't do this,” you replied.  

Fox was silent but you knew what he had decided. 

“Where should we start?” He asked, making you grin. 

“How about we see if these chips are what they’re supposed to be?”

[bird-in-the-space]

Masterlist

To quench my sudden addiction to Star Wars. (Could possibly write for other fandoms) Some fair warning, I'm not fully immersed with the lore so there might be some inaccuracies and I can sometimes be lazy with my writing.

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Clone Wars

The Greatest Detective of Coruscant

Imagine being Krell's former padawan and coming to Umbara to kill him...

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Transformers

TFP

Echoes of the Unknown

TF Energon

The Ocean City's Head of Security

Misc.

The Sibling of Fate

Bayverse Version

Oc's

Carina (Clone of Megatron)

Lyra (Clone of Optimus Prime)

Bria (Adopted sister of Carina and Lyra)