#united space cruiser

[silveragelovechild]

[spockvarietyhour]

That fake Vulcan Combat Cruiser looks small by Comparison. Enterprise vs The Romulan Drone (round one), "United"

[phoenixyfriend]

Accountant of Theed

Read on AO3

After all is said and done, someone needs to balance these books, and nobody actually told the accounting department how they paid for this new hyperdrive. Mimi really hopes it's not a loan from the Hutts.

Disclaimer: I am not an accountant, but I work in an adjacent field (and have been considering getting a certification, but that's neither here nor there). While I did take some courses on it, I asked an Accounting Person to look over the excel sheet before I went forward with the rest of the fic to make sure it's internally consistent. Thank you to @gnomer-denois for confirming my balance on these works!

The reconciliation sheet does NOT follow contemporary guidelines in terms of format etc, but that is because it is:

In space! Standard practice differs from Modern United States or what have you.

Not the primary balance sheet, just the simplified version made to show to Queen Amidala.

If you'd prefer to view the Excel sheet in a more easily navigable form, there is a google drive link available. This is also your best option if using a screen reader.

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

Theed is safe. They are rebuilding. There is even financial support, aid, from the Republic.

It comes with strings attached. Oversight. Auditors.

Wouldn’t want Naboo to misuse funding after that nasty mistake with the Trade Federation, right? Sure, Naboo wasn’t the one at fault, but one can never be too careful...

Mimi, as an accountant for the government of Naboo, does not in fact want to commit fraud, or enable corruption, but the rolling audits do feel a little like the Republic is punishing them for getting invaded.

“Hey, boss?”

That tone. Mimi does not like that tone. “Please tell me it’s not another unauthorized purchase with a missing receipt. Which account did they pull from this time?”

“Um... we don’t know?”

Mimi gives them a moment. No elaboration is given.

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t know,” the younger employee repeats.

“What do you mean?” Mimi asks. “People charge things to accounts or cards. They forget to submit receipts. We hunt them down for receipts, and make sure nobody is skimming off the top. That’s how it goes. Unless this is a purchase on a personal and we need to reimburse—”

“Um, maybe?”

“In which—what? That’s just... okay. There’s a process for reimbursements. You aren’t following it, which means... what? What do you mean, you don’t know? Did they use cash, or pull from an account?”

The younger employee looks down at their datapad. Looks back up at her. Looks baffled and a little scared. “Um, it’s... we still don’t have a receipt, but we also don’t know where the money for it came from? But nobody’s put in a reimbursement request and I can’t imagine anyone on the mission had those funds on them, not even the Queen herself.”

“The money for what?”

“Um. It sort of just... showed up?”

“So, it’s some kind of gift?” Mimi presses.

“Too big,” the younger mumbles, refusing to meet her eyes. “It would have to be disclosed.”

“I am giving you five seconds—”

“It’s a hyperdrive!” they yelp.

“...Explain.”

“One of the mechanics was looking over the Royal Cruiser, and found that there was unrecorded repair work to the hyperdrive. The ship took enough damage during the escape that he wasn’t surprised, but then he noticed that it was from an earlier run of the part, and when he checked, the serial number was completely wrong. The hyperdrive was completely replaced.”

Mimi closes her eyes and takes a breath. “The mechanic doesn’t know?”

“He said there’s nothing in the records that matches it at all, and it’s a big enough part that there’s no way it would just slip through the cracks, not when it’s that expensive and going on the Royal Cruiser.”

“So,” Mimi says, “we have a part worth almost as much as the rest of the cruiser combined, that just... came out of nowhere, and nobody claiming for reimbursement.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s what it looks like.”

Mimi has no interest in fraud.

“Find out who was piloting when Queen Amidala escaped, and see if they have any answers,” Mimi tells them. “If we can keep it to just the hangar staff without drawing in the Royal Retinue, it’ll be easier on all of us.”

“Here’s hoping, ma’am.”

(Continue on AO3)

[transformers-synergize]

What purpose did the Ark's pincers originally serve before coming to Earth?

You have amazing art and a solid story so far, btw! Here's hoping both gain more attention!!

A-R-K units are commercial transport, and passenger ship hosting amenities to support several dozen bots for long periods of continuous space travel and sizable storage areas able to hold large amounts of cargo, even though they are an older model, they are known for being extremely reliable

the pincers are the Ark's way of interacting with the outside world while in space, moving space debris, transporting cargo for short distances, assisting damaged ships, or using them to latch onto larger objects to temporarily dock its self, though they can be used as weapons, this is very much not their intended function

the autobots chose to use an ark ship for the Allspark transport, giving up the speed and combat ability of a battle cruiser or the strength and defense of a traditional cybertronian warship for the stealth factor of using a common commercial ship though despite their best efforts, they were out anyway, almost as if someone told the decepticons their location :)

[inbabylontheywept]

"I think we underestimated the human population by eight or nine orders of magnitude."

The war room was reeling. The human population had been estimated in the mere hundred billion range. They should barely have had enough of an economy to field two light cruisers, least of all the goddamn armada that was ravaging the inner worlds. After the alpha strike, the human flotilla should’ve been completely crippled. Instead the number of ships they were fielding kept growing.

Tan-Hauser was the first target struck by a human attack, and they reported seventeen craft before they lost comms. Attican was hit just three days after that, but their reports already showed numbers above ninety. Any doubts that the fleet was growing were eliminated when Outpost Batan reported 1,217 FTL pings two days before the loss of Kira.

The number reported was so big it was written off as a sensor malfunction. Twenty-five billion souls lost, all because nobody in the war room could face reality.

They were going to face it now. The Kirarian in front of them was the primary sensor engineer for the Batan outpost, a specialist with more expertise in analyzing space lanes than warships. He’d been up for at least the last two days, poring over the sensor data, and only now was ready to begin to share his findings.

From the pain in his multifaceted eyes, it was clear he was still reeling from the loss of his homeworld.

Seeing that he had the room’s attention, he began to speak. The translation units each member of the war council had implanted experienced a moment of lag as they struggled to convert the almost musical tonal humming of the Kirarian tongue to more common galactic speech.

"The simplest data that can be analyzed from an FTL ping is the distance that the ship traveled before dropping to sublight. The contracted space in front of the craft traps small particles, even light itself for a short period, compressing its wavelength and then releasing it when the field disengages."

The war room nodded along. The explanation was mildly technical, but anyone that had traveled on an FTL shuttle before knew the hazards of exiting FTL directly in front of your home destination. Blasting your home station with a wave of alpha, beta, and ultraviolet rays was hardly a warm welcome.

The engineer continued.

“The… issue with this is that we’re used to the majority of the ping being in the UV spectrum. We aren’t entirely sure what the spectrum of the signals we got from the ships were because Batan station can only detect up into the low gamma range, but that’s still what the majority of the human’s FTL pings were detected in. That’s at least ten billion times the frequency that we’re used to. Since the frequency of the burst can be roughly modeled by multiplying the mean radiation per unit distance by the length of the path, that implies one of two things: That the human ships are either traveling through areas with ten billion times the standard background flux, or that they are traveling extragalactic distances.”

The engineer paused for a few seconds at that statement. The pain of loss still shone in his gemstone eyes, but something more immediate was beginning to take center stage: Fear.

“Because the craft is essentially throwing… well, normally it would be the next three or four days worth of cosmic background radiation at you. In our case it’s more like several decades. But because it’s just giving you an advance on your normal cosmic background radiation, you can track the void in the next several days' worth of background noise to determine the ship's approach vector. The 1,217 crafts that arrived weren’t coming from the same spot. There were actually hundreds of converging vectors, but more importantly…”

He trailed off, a small 3D model of the local space appearing in the center of the holo table. A spiked ball of vectors protruded from the galactic disk, each piercing cleanly through his former homeworld.

His voice cracked a little, the hum turning into a hiss. The translator tech paused a moment too, struggling to convey the subtle emotional cues into the message.

“They’re all coming off the galactic disk. That doesn’t just mean that we’re surrounded, that doesn’t just mean that we’re outnumbered… It means that each attack that we’ve seen up to this point is from an entirely separate group. What we’ve been mistaking for fleets, I believe, are simply the beginning trickles of their exploratory forces. Each of the sites that they’ve targeted hasn’t been of significant strategic importance; they’ve just been sites with unusually strong output signals. I think they’re just using our transmission stations as makeshift beacons for their FTL jumps." He took a deep breath to steady himself before providing his final thought. "I think we underestimated the size of the human population by eight or nine orders of magnitude.”

There was a heavy silence in the war room as that last sentence was processed. The engineer was already out the door before he heard the panic begin to set in.

Part of him felt a little guilty. It would’ve probably been kinder for them to go out not knowing what was about to hit them. Still, it wasn’t often you could force people with this much power to realize that they’d just lost everything.

There was a bitter satisfaction in that.

[carionto]

Predator mode

Big Thrasher was not a happy camper after his first encounter with Humanity. There is a certain exponential curve to simple ballistic weapons, whereas shields, which start off way above, progress on a geometric line. E in = E out (mostly, some charge is lost in conversion) vs E=MC^2. He learned that the hard way when three of his toughest cruisers were reduced to space dust by, as he later learned to his horror, a mid-sized transport ship using Human standard issue rail cannons.

Someone smart would move on and avoid Humanity. Big Thrasher isn't a complete idiot, but he is a prideful and narcissistic pirate captain. Thus his ability to make sensible decisions is handicapped severely. Now he has made a most dubious one indeed:

Infiltrate a Human science station and steal all their secrets and use them to get sweet, juicy, delicious revenge!

Finding one was disturbingly easy, there's so many of them. Like, at least one for each star system within eighty light years from Sol, one for each planet within thirty, and then it just gets ridiculous within Sol itself. Oddly enough, despite their size, typically there are no more than ten people aboard, almost all Human, only a few are joint Coalition.

Thinking long and hard (something Big Thrasher is not a fan of) he decided on his target - a lone station on the very outskirts of publicly known Human activity and furthest away from any major Coalition systems.

When his reconstructed fleet arrived behind the local gas giant, the station was sitting in mid orbit of the inner rock planet and was broadcasting something strange on open channels - a melodic chant of sorts:

"..live on a Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submarine! A Yellow Submari.."

whatever that meant. No matter, Big Thrasher's fleet was moving in on the target, stealth drives on, weapons ready, numbers on their side, element of surprise - the perfect ambush.

...

Where did the station go?

Before Big Thrasher could register neural activity to try and answer that, it appeared. Behind them. And a small explosion happened moments earlier where it used to be, but the main concern was the station firing its stabilizer thrusters to rotate it at incredible speeds, then a long blade slicing one of his ships in two. Then it disappeared again. And another small explosion.

Once more, it suddenly reappeared behind another one of his ships and did the same thing, but this time used its thrusters to quickly move towards the vessel and impale it on a massive spike. Disappear. Small explosion in its place.

Three. Four. Five. They're losing ships by the second. A literal space station sized target and they can't keep track of it, let alone land a single hit. How is it teleporting? What are those explosions?

WHY IS A SPACE STATION ENGAGING HIS PIRATE SPACE SHIP FLEET IN MELEE COMBAT!

WHY WOULD ANYONE THINK TO DO THAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!?!

WHY IS IT WINNING!?!??!

Big Thrasher once again order an emergency retreat, what remained of his fleet scattered to randomly selected quick hyperjump coordinates, and would regroup in a few weeks time.

_______________________

Aboard the experimental development station Tree of Grating Whispers the crew of seven were hastily putting out fires and trying not to throw up from all the gee forces they just endured, kinetic dampeners be damned.

A few hours later, all in their environmental suits, as the life support system was dead, they convened for an after-action report:

"Right, so, good news and bad news. Good news - short range teleporter works perfectly. Bad news - each unit doesn't teleport with us and just explodes, further data has been unrecoverable so far.

Good news - rapid action thruster and kinetic combat mode works. Bad news - can't have biologicals onboard and even moderately durable systems break after a few swings.

Overall, I'd say this has been a success (unanimous nodding). Let's get to working out the kinks and we'll have a presentable version for the military. We'll also have to thank those pirates for not masking their engine heat trails, this was a great field trial guys, real proud of everyone!"

The chief says, while high on painkillers (and so is the rest of the crew), as another part of the station self-immolates.

[atalante241]

List of things the 03 turtles have stolen:

Their first car — stolen from the purple dragons

That piece of heart underwear Mikey slammed into — stolen from a clothesline and thrown off the roof

The helicopter — stolen from the shredder

A tank — stolen from some soldiers

Those cloaks that are used when making a Mikey edit — stolen from a clothesline(?)

That convertible space car — stolen from an alley

Multiple pieces of cleaning equipment — stolen from the janitors closet of a prison

Several guns — stolen from some soldiers

Prime Leader Zanramon’s personal space cruiser — stolen from the hangar to escape

Prime Leader Zanramon’s personal space cruiser 2.0 — stolen from the hangar for shits and giggles

A doom buggy — stolen from conspiracy theorists/terrorists/H.A.T.E. survivalists

Two Junklantist guard suits — stolen from two unconscious guards

A train minus the conductor’s carriage — stolen from the EDF

The Heart of Tengu — stolen from The Foot

A briefcase full of money — stolen from Hun, Touch and Go

An old brown van — stolen from a group of robbers dressed as cowboys

(SAINW) A Karai-bot — stolen from The Foot

The Sword of Tengu — stolen from The Shredder

That truck filled with children’s toys for orphans — stolen by Mikey from three guys who stole it from some other guy

A child sized outfit big enough to fit a mutant turtle — stolen from clotheslines(?)

From this we can deduce that the turtles really like forms of grand theft auto, of this list 10 of said stolen items being vehicles

And of course an honorary mention:

That time they got accused of kidnapping the president of the United States of America

[noxturnalnymph]

Believer

Dave York x F!Partner(FBI), Chubby Dave York vs Tractor Beam (2.3k)

Summary: Submission for Beef’s October Fic Prompt Challenge - Dave York Made Me Believe:

Someone must be a non-believer (reader or Dave)

The following wording: Dave was not one who liked to be influenced to do anything, let alone that.

The X-files must be mentioned or referenced at least once.

Warnings: spooky pacific northwest vibes, all-around silliness, no sex, references to tall blue vibrating aliens (iykyk) A/N: Thank you to @strang3lov3 for green-lighting this premise and for editing away all my many mistakes. I love you @beefrobeefcal. I told you I would only write about aliens of the Ice-Planet-variety and I think this fits the bill. Happy Halloween!

Dave’s partner simultaneously snaps shut her flip phone and guns the engine, causing the car to lurch forward and the Big Mac he’s holding to slam against his chest. Special sauce dribbles down his tie as Dave shoots her a deadly side-eye.

“That was the division director we met on Tuesday,” she offers by way of explanation, typing in an address in the GPS as she drives, oblivious to the burger collision she’s just caused. “He gave us this location he wants us to check out,”

“Is there a lead on the shipping container theft?” Dave mumbles with his mouth full, as he smushes a napkin to his tie, smearing the greasy sauce further into the fabric. 

“No, it has nothing to do with that, but we’re the only critical incident response unit in the area so he wants us to make contact right away.”

She finishes speaking and then immediately turns her music - an Alanis Morissette CD she’d shoved into the deck - up as loud as she can. Dave has only been working with this agent for a week and even though she came highly recommended, he finds her to be quite irritating. He tries to dab more sauce away from his tie as he finishes his fast food dinner, opting instead to remove the tie completely by the time the car comes to a halt behind a sole forest service cruiser on a long, foggy stretch of road.

“We’re here,” his partner says, grabbing his milkshake and taking it with her out of the vehicle.

“We’re-, where the fuck are we?” Dave says to an empty car as she closes the door and starts walking towards the woods.

Dave exits the vehicle and trudges into the tree-line where he saw his partner disappear, his footsteps crunching on dried pine needles and the crisp air of the approaching evening creeping down his open collar. He wishes he had worn his suit jacket today but since he’s put on a few pounds it doesn't fit him very well anymore, so he left it at the hotel.

He emerges in an eerily still clearing to find his partner standing alongside a forest ranger who appears to be speaking with two hunched figures, huddled under thick blankets. She swivels her head, eyebrows climbing up her forehead as she spots him, and heads towards him with bounding steps. As she approaches Dave grabs the milkshake container out of her hands only to find it empty.

“That was mine,” he grumbles.

“You can afford to share,” she snarks, motioning towards his distended belly. “This is really interesting; see those two girls over there?” she points to the only two people besides government employees in the small field. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Dave mutters sarcastically.

“They’re claiming they were abducted by aliens,” she exclaims.

“Aliens?” Dave repeats.

“Isn’t that awesome?”

“What the-, like little green men, aliens?” Dave huffs, incredulous that they’d be pulled away from a major port theft investigation to be sent to the middle-of-nowhere north of Seattle for this insanity; a couple of local kooks claiming they were probed by space men. 

“Hopefully big blue aliens,” she replies excitedly.

Before he can ask what she means she is practically skipping back towards the small group, and Dave doesn’t have it in him to join. He knows she’s experienced enough to handle this kind of call - a complete waste of his time - and so instead he shuffles around the clearing. He takes a small flashlight out of his pocket to fight against the encroaching darkness settling as the sun dips behind the evergreen treeline.

Flashing his light on the ground he notices the tall grass is still wet from the morning dew, as if the sun didn’t get a chance to touch this little clearing in the woods today. He walks around the edges of it, noting how odd it is that there seems to be a perfectly oval patch of trees missing among these thick woods. As he rounds the circle he approaches the group and can see now that the huddled figures are two women, both pale and shaking. 

He makes eye-contact with the forest ranger - an older gentleman with a graying mustache - each of them giving the other a subtle nod as he passes by. He watches as his partner writes on the small spiral-bound bound notebook she keeps in her blazer pocket. He can’t say she’s not a good agent, she’s been very knowledgeable and thorough so far, but she’s just so-. Dave loses his train of thought as he tunes into the conversation.

“I’m not sure,” the young woman with glasses whispers. Dave spots floral tattoos cascading across her chest before she draws the blanket closer together. “Colette would have had a better view of them since I was face down on the table the whole time.”

His partner - eyes down and still writing notes - turns to the other woman, whose long, dark hair is unbound by the blanket she is bundled in and is gently blowing in the breeze.

“So, how would you describe them? Were they tall, maybe over seven feet? Would you describe their coloring as a shade of blue or steely gray? Did you notice any horns on their heads? Or fangs?”

“Well- Ummm,” the woman stammers.

Dave puts his hands on his hips and gives his partner a look that he hopes communicates the ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ thoughts screaming inside his head. 

Before he can give voice to any of his thoughts he notices the long-haired woman has stopped speaking and is staring at him, slack-jawed. His partner looks back over her shoulder and sees his pissed-off look, mouthing ‘what?’ and then beckoning him forward. He shook his head. Dave was not one who liked to be influenced to do anything, let alone that. He would absolutely not be participating in this charade. His partner turns back to the conversation and since she got no response from the second woman - Colette, apparently - she turns back to the tattooed woman.

“Did you hear them speaking any kind of words you could understand?” his partner questions.

“Actually, yes, but I don’t think you’re gonna believe me,” she answers. 

“What did they say? Maybe you heard a kind of humming or a vibrating resonance too?”

Dave rolls his eyes and sees the second woman still staring at him, her eyes glazed over. He feels like he’s being punk’d, that this trip out to the damp, darkening woods is someone’s idea of a poorly-executed practical joke. Annoyed that his time is being wasted when he could be back at the hotel with his feet up and his pants unbuttoned, he turns away from the group and continues inspecting the area. He shines his flashlight back and forth as he walks, seeing nothing but his shoes getting more muddy with each step.

Suddenly, his light catches on a small, shining piece of silver. Bending over with a huff, he picks it up, turning it over in his hands. It’s a cylindrical shape the size of two of his fingers with a rounded end, like an oversized rivet. He doesn’t think aliens would use such primitive technology and tosses it into the air, chuckling to himself as he catches it and tucks it into his pocket.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees a small light flashing inside the forest that continues beyond the small clearing. He turns to say something to his partner but she’s busy talking and he’s a bit creeped out by the fact that the long-haired woman is still staring at him with heavily lidded eyes, mouth still slightly ajar. He ducks into the dark provided by the heavy tree cover and heads towards the strange blinking.

He continues walking, the light farther away than he initially thought. He has to heft himself over a large fallen tree trunk that spans left and right as far as his eyes can see and then hop a small creek that runs through the low point he’s come across. On the other side of the running water he sees the blinking light, larger now that he’s up close. The only problem is that it’s about 10 feet up in a tree, making it almost impossible for him to see exactly what it is. 

He can’t hear his partner talking this deep in the woods and any leftover sunlight from the opening in the forest behind no longer reaches him. He’s thinking how glad he is to have his flashlight with him as he draws the beam of it up the trunk of the tree to the flashing device. He halts any movement, sucking in a breath when the trembling light reaches it and his eyes grow wide at what he sees. 

The device is being held in tiny hands between two small, yellow, cylindrical-shaped beings wearing what look to be denim overalls, who stare at him with large eyes blinking behind silver-rimmed goggles. One is about two feet tall with one eye and the other is over a foot taller with two eyes and a stalk of hair that sticks straight up. 

They are all frozen in place, staring at each other until he hears a sound behind him, like tiny feet shuffling on dried pine needles. He slowly turns to look back and sees an even smaller two-eyed being holding something out in his hands towards Dave.

“Bah-nah-na?” it asks, in a high-pitched nasally voice.

Dave doesn’t have time to think about how much whoever put him up to this must be laughing, he only thinks about getting the fuck out of there, and he immediately turns and starts running away. He doesn’t scream when both legs go ankle-deep in the cold creek or when he catches a foot under a root, twisting his leg at an unnatural angle. He does, however, let out a loud grunt when he slams his overweight body into the forgotten fallen tree trunk, prostrating himself against the ground, knocking all the wind out of his lungs.

He begins to mutter curses but freezes again when a bright light beams down on him from above, illuminating a blinding circle around him. No fucking way, he thinks. Then he feels it, a force drawing him upwards towards the light. It lifts his arms first, then his legs, his head leaves the ground and he begins to reach out, belly still touching the forest floor, clawing at the ground in a desperate attempt to find something to grab onto.

Twigs and leaves crunch beneath his hands, his futile attempt to clutch onto something failing as his heavy middle is lifted several inches off the ground. He puts his arms and legs beneath him and then - on all fours - scrambles out of the beam of light. It seems to take a moment for the light to find him again, he watches as it zig-zags around the ground, before finally locking onto him several feet away. 

He hasn’t been able to get very far and he’s panting, winded at the physical effort, when the force begins to draw him up again. This time he does cry out, he screams for his partner only for the sound of his voice to be sucked above him, like screaming into the raging wind. He is lifted fully off the ground now, several feet up, and he’s still shouting and pawing wildly at the air.

He hears a metalling ‘clunk’ sound and hears several items drop onto the ground beneath him. Before he can wonder what they are he sees them float past his face, more rivets like the one in his pocket. The light dims for a moment as the force lessens slightly, dropping him halfway back to the ground. When it resumes its upward pull on him it appears to struggle, moving even slower than before. He hears several more clunking noises and then the light goes out completely, the invisible force dropping him back down to the ground.

He lets out another groan as he hits the hard ground once again but this time he doesn’t waste any time, jumping to his feet as quickly as possible and heaving himself forwards. He bursts back into the clearing - now completely dark - and two flashlights point at his red, damp face.

“York, what the hell?” he hears his partner’s voice from behind one of the flashlights.

He heads towards the voice as she moves the flashlight along his body, most likely seeing the evidence of his time scrambling in the dirt and his mad dash through the dark woods. He feels the bones in one of his feet throbbing and knows there are scratches all over his face from branches he ran into during his escape.

“I-, there-, it-, they-”, with each word he manages to get out he stops to take three gulping breaths.

“York, relax, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack, big guy,” she says, as the ranger offers him a canteen of water, which he gladly accepts and begins to swallow down.

“I- I saw them,” Dave finally sputters, the canteen rattling in his trembling hands.

“Who?” she asks, brows knitted together.

“Them,” Dave whispers, eyes wide as he looks upwards at the sky.

“Very funny, York, ha ha,” she says, dripping with sarcasm.

“No, I-”

“I know this isn’t your thing but don’t worry, there’s two other agents who just showed up and they’re gonna take this case off our hands.”

“What? Who?” he says, eyes scanning the treeline in the dark - for people or creatures unknown.

“I dunno, some hot guy and a pretty little redhead. Let’s get back to the car, we can stop at Dairy Queen on the way back to the hotel and get you another milkshake.”

[aquaticwolfkuri]

Y HATE Me, But I Hate YOU More: Ch.9

(sorry this took so long. A lot was happening)

Stranding before the great and mighty Tallest was invader Zim, with Minimoose and Gir by his side.

There was no one else in the room of the ship other than the pilots and such.

“Zim, we’re most grateful for your service” Red says, and Zim feels nothing but honored by this.

“Now this mission is going to be very, very VERY dangerous. But we know you can do it” Purple says, keeping close to Red.

“Yes my Tallest! I am ready to handle any mission you give to Zim!”

“Good. Now Zim, this mission is simple. We're going to give you the most dangerous and catastrophic bomb imaginable, and your going to carry it into the core of a very large and dangerous ship from an annoying group called the Resisty.” Red explains, while Purple seemed to be trying his best to stay quiet.

“The Resisty??? I've never-”

“-It doesn't matter who they are Zim. They're annoying and they're becoming a threat to the Irken empire.” Red says, leaving now room for anymore questions.

“Yes sirs! I will not fail you.” Zim says before being handed the small black box. Before returning to his ship, he's told the bomb will automatically begin the countdown to detonate once it gets into close proximity with the enemy's ship power core. Once activated, he would only have 10 minutes to escape the ship before the whole thing would explode.

Inside the Voot Cruiser, Zim navigates towards the Resisty’s ship, feeling oh so proud that the Tallest recognized his greatness for such an important mission.

The Resisty's ship seemed to be swarming with patrol units, so getting in wouldn't be easy and there weren't many floating asteroids to hide behind to get close enough. He would need some kind of divergence.

He looks towards the large and squirming sack that he had Gir retrieve for him, grinning clinically at it.

“Yes, you will make for the perfect tool…. Gir! I'm going to take out new friend to the enemy ship,  you stay in the Voot Cruiser with Minmose and cause a minor disturbance until I call for you.” Zim says, and the small robot obays.

Zim gets into his space gear and grabs the sack before flying off, and Gir launches a mass of weenies as the surrounding enemy ships before flying off as they pursue him.

Aboard the Risity’s ship, Zim empties the sack, reveleaving the ginger haired girl from earth, Plotty Dev. She looked scared, frightened… but almost amazed by her surroundings. She was bound by her arms and left, her mouth covered by some device.

“Hello Plotty” Zim says, grinning.

“....!!!” Plotty couldn't believe it, she had been kidnapped by an alien who oddly sounded like her classmate Zim! obviously that must just be a coincidence, because she knew Zim was still back on earth at Prom with Dib.

“Yes, yes, I'm an alien. Now, you're going to make it up to me for all the times you STOLE the-Dib from me…! And no one steals from the GREAT ZIM!” Zim's face and tone quickly become grim. He pulls out some kind of remote control, pushing one of the buttons. The metal rope binding her legs came undone before shrinking and turning into a collar around her neck.

“You're going to be a good little human and run around this ship, and keep the enemy off my trail, and if you don't keep running, that collar will explode. “ Zim says, amused and disgusted by the girl's tears.

“Now GOOO! ZIM commands you!” Zim says, shoving her before activating the device. The girl panics and just keeps running.

Zim!? That alien was ACTUALLY Zim??? So Dib wasn't actually racist?? and what did Zim mean by taking Dib from him??? All these questions race through her mind as she continues to run.

Zim watches for a moment, feeling victorious, and ever so pleased that she would never be able to mind control Dib again.

“That's right, no one will be allowed to steal Dib from Zim, because the Dib-human belongs to me and only me! B-But that has absolutely nothing to do with being in love with the Dib-beast!!” Zim shouts out loud, feeling his face heat up. But he quickly begins running off, hoping he hadn't been noticed. 

He quietly tries to navigate towards the ship's core, using his pack legs to his advantage to maneuver around through the ship.

He can hear the guards quickly become alerted to an intruder, watching some of the guards run off, clearing Zim’s path. They must have noticed the human girl.

But just ahead was the ship's power core. Zim pulls out the small black box and brings it closer, activating it, but he panics when he realizes the timer on it wasn't set for 10 minutes, but was actually set for 10 seconds. He tossed the box and quickly makes a run for it, calling Gir to hopefully pick him up in the Vootcrusier.

He runs past a few of the guards, but just as Gir and Minimoose blast a hole through the ship to meet up with their master, the bomb goes off.

Zim jumps into the Vootcrusier before the bomb goes off, but instead of just blowing up, it begins to suck them and everything in before imploding, leaving a black hole behind.

Every Irken from the armada cheered, as the great and mighty Tallest had finally rid them of the dangerous and defensive invader Zim, once and for all…

[chernobog13]

The United Planets Cruiser C-57D streaking through space towards Altair lV in Forbidden Planet (1956).

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Hammer and the Anvil ( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )    

“Retreat!?”

Several of the bridge crew turned at the admiral’s raised voice before a look for their captain had them return to their duties. With the enemy fleet now fully assembled before the Coalition Armada there was more than enough work for each of them to attend to.

Troy Brakus was a seasoned captain serving the Terran navy for thirteen years with the last five aboard his own vessel the “Unruly Yeoman”. She had fought everything from opportunistic space pirates to despotic warlords carving out their own tiny petty kingdoms amongst the stars. There wasn’t a vibration or groan that her ship made that he did not recognize nor crew member he did not know. This ship was his home and at the moment it looked very much like it was about to be blown to pieces.

Having been a member of the Galactic Coalition of Star Systems, the Terran navy had been dragged into the recent conflict with the Genven Imperium. This outcome had hardly been a surprise to anyone as the Genven had been launching an increasing number of raids along the border for the last year until finally the Coalition had had enough and made an official proclamation of war to halt the incursions.

What they had not counted on was that Coalition intelligence had been drastically underestimating the Genven’s naval strength. So when the Coalition united fleet entered Genven territory they were met by an enemy war fleet three times their size. A notion the supreme admiral of the fleet had certainly noticed as they were now issuing a fleet wide retreat order.

“We are outnumbered 3:1 Admiral Kelly,” the supreme admiral said over a communication link, “if we stay here we will lose the entire fleet.”

“And if we retreat we deal a crippling blow to the Coalition’s morale and hand the Genven’s the initiative!” Admiral Kelly countered.

Admiral Kelly Winfeld was the overall leader of the Terran contingent of the Coalition navy which had allocated fifteen warships and twenty seven cruiser and smaller class vessels to the coalition fleet. No other commander outside of the supreme commander could issue orders to the Terran navy, and even then it had been an unofficial understanding that said orders would only be listened to if they had Admiral Kelly’s blessing. Which was making the current disagreement all the more dire.

“Numbers does not always guarantee victory,” Kelly continued, “we can still win this battle if we use our heads and out maneuv-“

“You have your orders Admiral Kelly!” the supreme admiral cut in forcefully. “If you are unable to comply you shall be stripped of your rank and-“

The transmission suddenly was cut off and the hologram of the supreme admiral faded away instantly. Captain Brakus took his hand off his command console and looked up at the Admiral.

“Your orders, ma’am?”

Standing up straight and adjusting her uniform, Admiral Kelly turned around to Brakus and grinned.

“All ships line up behind the Unruly Yeoman and divert all power to forward shields and engines.” She pointed at the heart of the Genven fleet which was now spreading out in a large crane formation in the hopes of surrounding the Coalition fleet before it could withdraw.

Captain Brakus relayed the orders to his crew as the power diversion to shields began. The lights flickered as each station called out that the power had been successfully diverted and shields now were at 300%. Taking a look at the tactical display he could see that while the rest of the coalition fleet began pulling away the Terran contingents were following the Admiral’s orders and forming up behind the Unruly Yeoman.

The last ship had entered the formation just as the first volley of enemy plasma lances impacted the fleet. A number of coalition ships were struck in the rear and suffered critical engine failures or outright exploded.

“Engines to full,” Admiral Kelly shouted as the shields endured another barrage, “make for the center of their fleet!”

“All ahead full.” Captain Brakus relayed and the Unruly Yeoman slowly pressed forward at the head of the Terran navy.

“We have a communication incoming from the supreme admiral.” The communication officer shouted across the bridge as another salvo struck the shields sending a shudder through the ship.

“Ignore it.” Admiral Kelly said as the Terran line continued pressing forward.

The amount of incoming fire was steadily increasing as the Genven ships began to find their mark. Each impact sending increasingly violent shudders. At the front of the column were all of the heavier ships were in the front soaking up the majority of the damage while the smaller escort vessels clung tightly behind them for protection.

“Do we have an actual plan?” captain Brakus inquired as the fleet pressed ever closer to the center of the Genven formation. “I’d rather not end up like the light brigade.”

“We needn’t worry about that unfortunate debacle.”

She pointed to the tactical chart. Coalition forces were making all speed towards the edge of the system while the Genven fleet was still in hot pursuit.

“Now that we’re between their wings they can’t fire on us since any deflected or missed shots will hit their own forces.”

Brakus nodded as he realized why the admiral had ordered power to the shields and engines. “So only the center formation can still attack us freely.”

He looked up from the display to see the center of the Genven fleet steadily becoming larger in the view screen as was the looming dreadnought that housed their command staff. It was the easiest to spot as it was twice as big as any of the surrounding vessels and dotted with nearly three times as many gun ports.

“So are we going to eliminate their command?”

To his surprise the admiral shook her head. “Even if we did wipe out the center the two wings would still be enough to wipe out the rest of the coalition before turning around and snatching us.”

She tapped the tactical display as if counting down to some event only she knew. “We need to destroy their formation in a way that causes enough chaos to break their momentum and give our own forces enough time to counterattack.”

“Captain.” One of the deck officers interrupted. Brakus turned to see the officer motioning to the proximity warnings now displaying as the Genven ships were rapidly approaching.

Brakus nodded to the officer and turned back to the Admiral.

“If you have a plan, now would be the time.”

Without missing a beat Admiral Kelly finally stopped tapping the tactical display and shouted “All ships hard to port!”

As one the entire line of terran ships broke off what many appeared to be a suicidal charge and steered headlong into the right wing of the enemy fleet that was still chasing after the Coalition.

“Divert power from shields to forward batteries; fire when ready!”

Brakus could hear the thrumming of the energy planets as they once more diverted power across the ship on a whim and watched as the first plasma lances from the forward cannons lashed out.

The Genven right wing had been so focused on catching the retreating Coalition forces that the sudden attack from the Terran navy blindsided them. They had expected the humans to smash themselves against the center of their lines but now faced massed fire from dangerously close quarters. A few of the ships attempted to divert power back to their shields but at such short distances the plasma lances were already carving through their hulls.

Like a hot knife carving through butter the Terran navy decimated the right wing, separating the forces almost in two as the forward elements aborted their forward charge and the rear elements found themselves crashing into the burnt remains of the destroyed ships the Terran’s left in their wake.

Several of the bridge crew let out a hearty cheer as the gun batteries across all decks adding nicely to their ever growing kill count until finally they broke through the line entirely. Brakus was about to ask for next orders but the admiral beat him to it.

“All ships hard to starboard now, come up behind the center; target engines and rear emplacements first then work your way down through critical systems.”

Brakus relayed the orders to his crew as the Terran navy came about once more and poised themselves to strike at the rear of the center Genven fleet.

Already their attack was causing the desire chaos the admiral had wanted as the left wing of the Genven fleet was breaking off their pursuit of the retreating Coalition forces to come turn and face the Terran forces. The center was likewise positioning themselves to track the Terran fleet but finding their progress slowed by how packed together they were.

“Coalition forces are turning around Captain.” The scanning officer called out followed swiftly by the communications officer.

“The Supreme Admiral is hailing us again and is demanding to speak to you admiral.”

“Tell him to take a number,” she said with a smile as the opening salvos against the center fleet started, “I’ve got a battle to win.”

[sepublic]

As I'm thinking about how a Metroid story adaptation covering the whole series would work out, I'm considering the situation on Zebes during the Zero Mission.

We know there were three research vessels, Frigates Orpheon, Siriacus, and Vol Paragom in orbit when everything happened. Otherwise, I feel like Zebes should have more of an orbital defense; The NES manual mentions that the planet's surface is rocky, acting as a natural barrier, and I presume most passageways into the caverns below are heavily guarded. The exception is one used by Samus, who knows Zebes' layout well due to having grown up there.

I'm thinking that in addition to the research frigates, there are a couple of Space Pirate warships; But mostly frighteningly of all are the Metroids. With hundreds of them floating in orbit around Zebes, they act like natural spacemines; Any intruders attempting to fly into Zebes, if they even make it past the Space Pirate blockade, will likely fly directly into the Metroids, who are small and hard to keep track of at high speeds.

But even a single Metroid is devastating to a ship, such as a personal craft; They can drain technology of its power by grappling onto it from the outside. And unless the Metroid is placed right in front of a turret or other weapons system, the ship has no reliable way of getting the Metroid off without the pilot exiting the vessel to somehow remove it themselves; But that would endanger themselves far too much, so no.

And there's an entire swarm of Metroids; They can sense and track down energy signatures, making them excellent hunters. So if a Metroid is draining something, it will emit a unique signature that other Metroids in the area will notice and congregate towards. This made them very naturally self-coordinated when hunting down the X, as the Chozo intended; It also makes them a nightmare for any other prey too.

Think of it this way; You fly past Space Pirate enemy fire, only to hit something small. Your ship barely registers physical contact, but before you know it something on the outside is draining of it all power. Ahead of you, your scanners spot movement; Dozens of other Metroids are now lining themselves up inside your flight path, hoping for you to fly into them and give the predators a chance to latch on and feed, too.

Assuming you somehow make it to Zebes' atmosphere before your ship loses all energy, then you can at least be reassured that the friction from atmospheric re-entry will pry off the Metroids; But your ship is still weakened, and it won't fit through the narrow entrances to Zebes' caverns, where the Space Pirates are located. And there are still Space Pirate patrols flying within the atmosphere who will chase after you, and remember that you've lost a decent portion of your power due to those Metroids... Said Metroids, who you've dragged into Zebes' atmosphere, will be redirected by Mother Brain to a Space Pirate outpost on the surface, who will promptly transport them back into orbit above the planet to resume their station.

Don't even try to get through the Zebes blockade with a large cruiser. You're doomed; Even with a fleet, the Space Pirates will counteract with their own warships. And Mother Brain will command Metroids in orbit to swarm an enemy fleet. Due to their small size, it's very tricky to hit one, and with Space Pirate allies backing them up, plenty of Metroids can weave their way past enemy ships to attack the larger cruisers.

Sometimes they'll just absorb the energy of a fighter's attack, although the force will send them hurtling back for a bit before they recenter themselves and resume their pursuit. Thankfully, Metroids don't need to be destroyed by the cold; A shot from a cruiser's cannon can overpower the Metroid's defenses entirely, obliterating them. But when you consider Metroids as an infantry unit, you can see why nuking the whole place is an impractical solution; And when they participate alongside Space Pirate fleets, one will take the blows for the other.

A few dozen Metroids can wreak havoc on a cruiser from the outside, sensing the location of power conduits beneath the hull. And they can just as easily wreak havoc inside, too; Their flexible bodies allow them to squeeze through tight spaces, so long as they're just big enough to accommodate their fangs; Not unlike an octopus. They can access conduits directly to more efficiently drain a cruiser, robbing parts of a ship ranging from cannons to even a command bridge's access to power.

And if a Metroid manages to make its way inside the corridors of a cruiser? Absolute chaos. And with Mother Brain's guidance, Metroids orbiting Zebes can receive direct orders to efficiently attack and dismantle parts of a cruiser's energy grid, its life support systems, etc.

This is why a full-scale attack on Zebes is unfeasible; In addition to the fact that Zebes can always call on additional reinforcements, and the presence of other vessels along the route to Zebes in the first place. Thus, a fleet could be intercepted by the Space Pirates well before they reach Zebes.

All of these factors are why the Federation needed to rely on sneaking saboteurs within the Zebes stronghold, instead of attacking it head-on. Some did make it past the blockade and Metroid mines, but upon landing on the surface, got picked off by Sky Pirates or space pirate ships flying overhead. Those who remained hidden still needed to find one of the elusive passageways leading miles through Zebes' crust to its expansive caverns below; And all of these were guarded heavily.

But as mentioned before, Samus knew of one that even Mother Brain had overlooked, and this is how she was able to access the Brinstar caverns of Zebes. From there, it was a matter of assassinating the Space Pirate general Kraid to retrieve one of the access keys to Tourian, implanted within his wrist; The other was on Ridley, who unwittingly delivered Mother Brain's defeat when he arrived on Zebes to finish off Samus himself. Had he stayed off-planet with his access key, Samus might not have found her way into Tourian to destroy Mother Brain.

And with Mother Brain's destruction, came the un-taming of the Metroids; Without her Thoha telepathy to control them, the Metroids slowly but surely realized they had nothing to listen to from the Space Pirates, and all the energy in the world to feed from them. When Samus Aran destroyed Mother Brain, this led to the collapse of the beta reactors within Tourian without Mother to regulate them.

The resulting meltdown clued in the Mothership's crew to Samus' location, with commander Weavel (operating in Ridley's absence as his body was sent to the orbiting Orpheon's advanced medical bay to be resuscitated) sending fighters after Samus. Between enemy fire and a re-encounter with the Metroids in orbit, Samus failed to escape Zebes and her ship crashed, the explosion wrecking her power suit beyond repair.

Vulnerable, she had to abandon her destroyed ship; And needing a way off-planet, the closest source for an alternate craft was the Mothership left by Ridley! Samus did consider going for the longer trek to another, less-guarded outpost... However, fighters were flying overhead, scanning for her; She couldn't make that without being caught and gunned down. So the Mothership it was.

Samus attempted to access the hangar or escape pod bays, but they were all locked down and would need heavier firepower to blast her way through. Luckily for her, Ridley happened to land the Mothership right next to Chozodia, one of the Space Pirate-guarded access points to Zebes' caverns; This was his path into Norfair where he eventually ambushed Samus. Still, Samus was almost caught on her way out of the Mothership... Until an urgent alert interrupted every Space Pirate aboard.

It had taken a bit for the Metroids to figure it out; But without Mother, they had no more obligation to the Space Pirates, and now all Metroids in orbit had begun turning on the Zebes blockade. In his obsession to destroy the hunter, Weavel refused to fly the Mothership back into orbit to aid the fleet, which was struggling to contain the Metroid attack. This might've been for the better, anyway...

Many Metroids were also inside of the blockade's ships, and not just outside in the vacuum of space; These contributed to the chaos. Luckily for Frigate Orpheon, which housed the injured and vulnerable Ridley, they had recently reverse-engineered some of the Chozo's beam technology, thanks to donations and data from Mother Brain. Although full-scale production had not yet begun, the Orpheon's crew made use of their new Ice Beams to contain the Metroids.

Nevertheless, their cargo was their newly-reinstated leader Ridley; The Space Pirates could not risk his death, and continuing to remain within Zebes' orbit would still expose the Orpheon to Metroids attacking from the outside, who could damage other parts of the frigate that the crew wouldn't be able to access with their Ice Beams. Thus, Weavel gave the command for the Orpheon to evacuate Zebes; Frigates Siriacus and Vol Paragom were also allowed to leave, as they held other Space Pirate projects, and due to being research vessels could not contribute much to stopping the Metroid attack.

All of this chaos gave Samus the distraction she needed to sneak into Chozodia; She still had to deal with Space Pirates stationed there as well, but eventually found another Power Suit to don, with additional upgrades. With everything she needed to blast her way through the hangar's defenses, Samus re-entered the Mothership, guns ablazing, to Weavel's horror.

At the same time, one of the Space Pirate warships found itself taken down by the Metroids; Some latched onto the ship from the outside as its engines lost power, causing the vessel to be dragged by Zebes' gravity to its surface, where it exploded not far from the Mothership. The explosion destroyed the Metroids trapped inside; However, those clinging to the hull were torn off from the air friction of atmospheric re-entry.

Trapped within Zebes' atmosphere, the disappointed, insatiable Metroids turned their attention to the nearest, most potent source of energy; The Mothership's crew and reactor. As they headed towards the Mothership, Weavel managed to redirect and trap Samus with blockade doors in the same chamber as the unfinished yet functional Mecha Ridley, whose AI took control to defend itself.

But as Samus fought the robotic doppelganger, unbeknownst to her, Metroids outside had begun to attack the Mothership. Despite the crew's attempts to repel them with the vessel's weaponry, its stationary position made it a sitting duck. As Weavel attempted to control the situation, seriously considering a retreat, the Metroids made their way inside and began draining all personnel. Some targeted the ship's reactor, which caused it to malfunction and begin melting down.

At the same time, Samus had managed to defeat Mecha Ridley, severing one of its primary conduits; But even with most of the machine inoperable, its self-destruct mechanism was intact and activated. Luckily for Samus, the Metroids attacking the reactor caused a failure in the ship's power grid, which caused the doors trapping her inside the room to release; This also caused the doors sealing the hangar to open, too.

(This is because in the event of a power failure, you don't want people being trapped inside; So doors are designed to open without energy.)

This allowed Samus to escape the room just before Mecha Ridley exploded, a detonation that would've killed her. Mecha Ridley's self-destruct was not enough to destroy the entire Mothership, just a small portion of it. The true explosion would come from the reactor's impending meltdown, which Samus raced against time to reach the hangar.

All captains must go down with their ship; In the Mothership's case, that would be Ridley, but due to extenuating circumstances he had already been sent into space aboard the Orpheon. Acting in his position was Weavel, who instead assumed this responsibility gravely. Hoping to trap Samus in the meltdown with him, Weavel ordered all crew members to evacuate ASAP, hoping to deplete the ship of any flight crafts or escape pods Samus would use to escape.

The only crafts left were in the last escape pod bay, which Weavel headed to alongside two fellow pirates to ambush Samus. If any others showed up before her, they would be permitted to take the remaining escape pods and leave; To his credit, Weavel had some honor and would not insist on dooming others against their will to take down Samus. So instead of playing it safe by destroying these remaining pods, he kept them intact for any stragglers who showed up.

He'd still take advantage of any remaining pods, however; Weavel ordered the weaker of his two comrades to hide inside one of them. In case Weavel and his fellow armored pirate fell, he hoped they'd at least inflict enough damage on Samus for the third one, who'd wait for Samus inside one of the pods, to jump out and finish her off at the last second; Just when Samus thought she was safe and could lower her guard!

To Weavel's credit, him and his ally -aided by other Space Pirates Samus encountered on the rush to the escape pods- managed to whittle down her energy tanks to the last one before they both fell. Weavel's body was ravaged externally and internally by the Wave Beam, but he still clung to life as Samus entered the bay. The third pirate jumped out, and came so desperately close to slaying the hunter... But her reaction time won out and saved her life, ending the pirate's.

Samus boarded the escape pod, even as some stragglers arrived to escape, and made a quick read of the situation with Weavel and two other pirates ravaged on the floor, and the hunter about to fly off in one of their escape pods. A bold yet foolish Space Pirate tried to stop Samus at this point, only to die pointlessly; The others boarded Weavel and his armor comrade aboard the remaining pods and flew out, right after Samus.

Luckily for Samus, the escape pods had no armaments; Otherwise she'd have to worry about being shot down as she escaped. And because she was in a Space Pirate pod, the ships in orbit did not find any issue with her; In fact, they were too busy to notice Samus as they dealt with the remaining Metroids, and another ship fell from the sky.

Desperate to save Weavel, the Space Pirates who followed after Samus instead boarded one of the vessels in orbit, rushing him despite the chaos to a medical bay as quickly as possible. Behind them, the Mothership's reactor finally detonated, obliterating all Metroids in the area.

Samus flew as far as she could before sending out a distress signal, wanting to avoid being discovered by the very Space Pirates she was attempting to flee. Luckily for her, a Federation cruiser picked Samus up, bringing her back to Daiban. As for the situation on Zebes, the Space Pirate fleet painstakingly managed to eliminate all of their Metroids on the planet, to their chagrin; So much investment turned against them, and now having to be destroyed by them, too!

Weavel survived, technically; But his injuries were so extensive only his brain and spinal cord were recovered, and he was subject to Project Metamorphosis without his consent. Nor did he consent to the distinctly non-Zebesian cybernetic frame that science team gave him; His objections and demands for a more fitting body were ignored, and Weavel was forced to go through a particularly extensive recovery period as he adjusted both to being a total cyborg, as well as a body with an alien shape to the one he was used to.

Samus Aran received adulation, though she attempted to avoid it; She was just glad to have gotten closure by preventing others from suffering from the pirates as Samus had, while taking revenge on Ridley and Mother Brain, who had murdered her families and destroyed her lives. Zebes wasn't exactly reclaimed, but at least Samus had gained a greater connection to her culture through the gifts leftover by the Thoha. These made her more powerful than Samus had ever been, and in addition to her newfound reputation, sparked a legendary tenure as a bounty hunter with many more commissions to come.

Horrified by his transformation, Weavel felt personally betrayed after everything he had given to the Space Pirates, as well as disillusioned by the catastrophic backfire of the Metroid breeding program; He felt the Space Pirates had put all their eggs into one basket by depending on Mother Brain, a usurper with disdain towards them, as their new leader and the load-bearing component of the Metroid project.

Dissatisfied with Space Pirate leadership, he left the organization; But at the same time, he still retained belief towards the cause. This led Weavel to work frequently with his former comrades as a bounty hunter, now able to do things on his own terms, without any science team to dictate for him.

Ridley was resuscitated, and infuriated over the Space Pirates' defeat on Zebes and Mother Brain's destruction, learned that all across the galaxy, his forces were struggling with containing the Metroids they had relied upon, as well as renewed onslaught from the Federation. With sole leadership reinstated by Mother's demise, Ridley gave an order out to remaining Space Pirate cells to scatter and lay low; Most were to retreat from their Metroid-infested stations and leave the problem to the Federation to die for.

What few Metroids the pirates could contain would be kept 'on ice' and used carefully and sparingly, as Ridley believed they still held some, albeit limited, use as an asset. Key bases would be reclaimed and rebuilt, such as Urtraghus or Zebes. As he recovered aboard the Orpheon, Ridley was subject to Project Metamorphosis, much to his chagrin, as he hid within the Tallon system and occasionally checked up on the reconstruction of Zebes, hoping to salvage anything within the ruins. His plan was to patiently wait for the Space Pirate cells to recover through their own various smaller-scale operations, before regrouping on Urtraghus.

Although her organic components had been vaporized, Mother Brain's code -her digital 'soul'- had managed to survive within the damaged yet intact hardware in Tourian. Given the dangerous levels of beta radiation left over, it would take a while for the Space Pirates rebuilding their base on Zebes to decontaminate Tourian and render it operable again. But eventually they'd reconnect with that hardware, and make a chilling discovery; Until then, Mother Brain would wait in dormancy to be reawakened and reborn...

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 7: The Doubt

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: Fallout comes fast when the Mandalorian fails to keep faith in you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, canon-typical violence, they fight (wah), jealous Din. Uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: I'll make a master list page or something at some point (update: HERE IT BE). Halp. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, A03. Thank you for reading!

--

‘So, it’s a ship holo.’ If sounding unimpressed could make you float, Mando would be kissing the roof.

‘It is,’ Torre punctuates his words like he’s conducting, ‘ah-no ordinary ship holo. Look.’

Stepping toward the gigantic rendition of a Class H treasury cruiser, you study the layout and details. Long corridors criss-cross either side of a central column, enclosing vault upon vault stacked from hull to rafters. It’s the kind of ship that can only travel at sublight, prioritised as it is to carry as much wealth as possible above the space necessary for a hyperdrive. Well, the wealth plus the armoury bristling with weaponry and a military-trained guard duty. 

You’re trailing your eyes along one of the corridors when you spot it. You give Torre a startled look and focus in closer on the two tiny figures making salutes and bowing.

‘That’s a guard mounting,’ you say. ‘They’re changing shift.’

‘Yyyup.’ Torre shifts around the table and stands beside you, too damn close but you’re distracted. ‘Look there, that’s your quarterdeck patrol unit. They keep to the perimeter.’

You laugh in wonder.

‘What,’ Mando steps forward.

‘It’s live!’ You reach a hand up and twirl the view to the patrol Torre pointed out, pulling in for a closer look. ‘See?’ Seven red-lined holographic figures move in a V; you can even see the rear two figures reaching out and checking whatever’s on the walls.

‘It’s a live fucking feed of what’s happening on this ship right now?’ You turn to Torre. He’s drinking it in.

‘Pretty sweet, right? You would not believe the crew I had to ride with to get a hold on this. Ha, it’s a real story, I’ll tell you all about it, maybe over d—’

Mando interrupts by grabbing your arm and pulling you backward. ‘We need to leave, now!’ He tugs you so hard you stumble a little.

‘Woah. Hey, man, no need to manhandle her,’ Torre says. ‘I know what you’re worried about but trust me, this line has a 100% bonafide, platinum-tier, guaranteed-on-my-mother’s-grave, airtight encryption. No trace. Nothin’.’ He sweeps a hand, whoosh. ‘Wouldn’t have it in here myself if I wasn’t certain.’ 

‘Hey,’ you say, ‘hey, lookit.’ When you’d tripped your eyes had landed on the lowest deck of the ship and you saw it. An energy signature. You suspect you know what it is.

You reach out and pull the spot on the map toward you and Mando, who’s released your arm but still radiates flight or fight reflexes. Maybe flight and fight. But he leans in too when he spots what you’re dragging in on.

The objects are lined with a deep, radiant grey. They sit in a room surrounded by treasures glowing more brightly, but the spot you’re looking at feels infinitely denser, a heavy presence even on the holo. They’re sitting in neat piles on a long bench, dozens of them.

‘There it is,’ Torre says behind you.

‘The beskar.’ Mando straightens and turns squarely on Torre, whose wide grin doesn’t falter. 

He holds hands out, palms up. ‘So, you in?’

Thanks to the depth of intel available on the projection, the plan really isn’t all that complicated. It’s just wildly dangerous and leaves plenty to chance. 

You fidget as Torre explains the steps, looking sidelong every few seconds at the dark and brooding figure beside you. Mando has said nothing beyond demanding more detail, which the wannabe orchestrator of this heist is all too happy to provide.

‘The great news is that this ship is way out there, way on the outer rim,’ Torre is saying. ‘So we won’t have any company to worry about.’

He trails a finger through the flickering image in front of you all. ‘We’ll have to plot a precise path onboard to avoid patrols. It’ll be convoluted and means we’ll have at least eight rounds of airlocks to hack through. Which you’ll handle ably,’ he nudges your knee with his.

‘We program them to open for just a few seconds, then seal shut and go offline, so they can’t be reopened – even remotely – giving us time.’ He drags a corridor in and zeros in on the small room you’d identified earlier. Points at it.

‘We raid the vault, then we head here,’ he shifts his finger to a room full of servers, then spins to a nearby bench and picks up a datalink. ‘Plug in this code I’ve designed.’

You remember Torre’s coding and programming… abilities. Once, when he was in your Uncle’s employ, he’d intercepted and hacked an incoming ship with a rumoured assassin onboard. The ship had jumped to hyperspace, destination an imploding star system. 

You’d heard about that only later though, when it was too late and he was gone. Otherwise you might have tried to learn a thing or two from him.

‘Once this tight little program is running,’ he’s carrying on, ‘the escape pods here will decouple from the system, unlock themselves and become untraceable. We’ll get to a pod, ride a few seconds of freefall and be out of reach. Then we just skip along to a rendezvous. Home free and soaked in riches.’

He sits back, looking smug.

You roll your eyes. ‘Torre…’

‘Hm?’

‘One thing…’

‘Which is?’

‘How do we get on the ship?’ you say, pointing at yourself and making a hopping motion toward the holo.

‘Oh! Well that’s where you come in, isn’t it,’ he says, gesturing a hand up and down Mando. ‘Imaginin’ you have all sorts of tricks up those shiny sleeves to sneak aboard a vessel. S’why I’m even letting you in on this.’

He looks at you and serves up another smirk. ‘Well, and for old time’s sake,’ he grins.

You look at your partner, a little unsettled by his posture – shoulders rigid and fists clenched, like he’s ready to pounce. You lean into his frame of view, try to get his attention, but he seems to be trying to set Torre on fire with his mind.

After a beat. ‘Mando?’ you say.

‘I have a way,’ he says, voice black. ‘It requires a droid though.’

‘Well I’m fresh out. You?’ Torre shrugs.

‘I have a source,’ the brooding figure says. He turns to you, ‘I can drop… him off at the same time.’ You just nod, happy to be keeping Grogu out of this one.

Torre slaps his palms together, showing only excitement and seemingly unaffected by the absolute waves of tension and fury being directed at him.

‘So, it’s settled. You pilot your ship – very capable, I’m certain – to create our ingress. She and I board, navigate on foot while you monitor from the security feeds, which I’ll hack by the way. We take the prize, make our escape and rendezvous. Job’s good!’ He looks between the two of you, smiling wide.

‘Absolutely not!’ Mando barks. You jump at his intensity. It takes you a second longer to register why.

‘Um, no,’ you say. ‘You’re saying you and I go in alone?’

Torre’s smile fades and he thumbs at the holo display. It flickers and disappears. He crosses his arms.

‘Afraid so, sunny,’ he says. Much as you hate having your childhood nickname recalled, him butchering it feels worse. ‘That is non-negotiable.’

You stare at him, incredulous. ‘You can’t be serious?’ 

He drops his arms and waves one over the space where the ship had been hovering moments ago.

‘Look, facts are – we need oversight, we’re already leaving enough to chance. You and I,’ a thumb between your chests, ‘will be fast and quiet.’

You’re gearing up to counter argue – a droid could monitor security, Mando’s stealth would surprise you, you’ve planned this all along haven’t you, you fu— But he stops your thoughts dead. 

‘And, to be honest with you,’ he says, ‘you’re not getting your hands on that stash without my full cooperation.’

The Mandalorian takes a deadly step toward the scheming bastard in front of you, whose hands raise in mock surrender.

‘Wouldn’t do that,’ he says. ‘That ship holo is coded to me specifically. Me alive, I add.’

That doesn’t seem to matter to the towering furnace of hatred bearing down. Time to step in again, it seems.

‘Mando…’ you say carefully. You step around him to face Torre. You don’t have the patience for this. The sooner the job is done, the sooner you can get away from this manipulative and chilling relic of your past. So you stay practical: ‘Is this really the only option?’

Torre just gives you his even, bright-eyed gaze. Its intensity is something you haven’t felt in a long old time and you have to concentrate hard to not break contact. He takes the opportunity to search your face, mouth twisting in an all too familiar hunger.

He doesn’t look away from you but addresses the one you now seem to be shielding him from.

‘What’sa matter, Mando?’ he spits. ‘Don’t you trust her?’

You give him a disgusted look that seems to delight him before pivoting 180, looking up into the sights of the impenetrable T visor.

‘We can do this,’ you say. ‘If this is what it takes?’

Lately, you’ve been able to tell if Mando is looking at you or not. Been able to detect some modicum of silent communication. But right now he’s unreadable. Maybe his eyes are closed? Clenched shut in the furious state of being forced to make a difficult choice. 

Eventually though, you hear a strained exhale and the unmistakable twitch of acquiescence.

‘Very well,’ he murmurs. A slight tilt of the helmet and that’s it. He says no more.

Your bounty partner heads off to deposit Grogu and pick up his sourced droid. He says little before departing, just offers you a clipped ‘watch your back’ and taps a vambrace to your wrist to set your encrypted comms channel, a habit at this point.

It left you with Torre, to sit by the holo to memorise your route through the gigantic treasury ship. It was difficult to concentrate though. One, because you were anxious about Mando’s increasing state of anger and annoyance, and two – Torre would not shut the fuck up.

Reminiscing, sharing stories and – frequently, irritatingly – suggesting getting dinner at a local place that does ‘killer noodles, seriously, they could kill you’. You channel the stony and assured veneer you’d seen on Mando plenty of times now. Waiting patiently as a bounty pleaded, bargained, begged. 

Just let him talk, he’ll tire eventually.

Unfortunately though, this isn’t some random job and the more Torre talks, the more all the shit in your past pushes its way into the forefront of your thoughts.

So you give in, suggest getting the noodles to go. You think food might shut him for a little while. And you argue against eating in because you still needed to be watching the map, even though you’d had the path learned by rote already. Really though, you just don’t want to be anywhere else when Mando gets back.

It does grant a brief respite of quiet, but it doesn’t stop him for long. He slurps up a strand and cocks a look at you.

‘So what was it, huh?’ he asks. ‘What made you forever leave your luscious little life behind and go trekking all over the outer rim kicking ass and taking names?’

‘Hells, Torre. I thought you might remember me in a more flattering light than that,’ you nudge your noodles around the cup. They really were incredibly good, but your appetite was now gone.

‘True, sorry. That world was always too small for you, wasn’t it? But I know you were loyal to it. I learned that the hard way.’ 

Ouch.

You draw a breath. May as well be honest.

‘I did try. But my Uncle… He- he was going to… he was going to sell me,’ you look at Torre and his eyes are hooded, dark. ‘My hand, that is, in marriage. To a fucking monster.’ Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

‘That fucker.’

‘Yeah.’ You laugh. ‘You know what’s funny? He’d paid Mando a not small sum to get me back. When I first heard that I thought… maybe he actually cared. About me.’ You shake your head and put your food down. ‘But the whole time, he’d just had an even bigger endowment on the way.’

‘That’s not really very funny at all.’

‘Yeah,’ you say again. ‘But… I doubt he’ll be making any attempts to find me again. More pressing concerns now. So, I’m done,’ you shrug pathetically. 

Torre reaches out to brush his fingers over your knuckles, bloodless and clenched as they are on your knee. You stare at them, eyes blurred.

Mando picks that moment to stalk in.

He takes in the scene as you stand quickly and wipe at your face, stepping around the table to stare hard at the ship manifest.

‘We are set,’ he all but snarls.

Torre slaps his knees and stands too.

‘Well let’s not burn any more daylight and get into it!’

The hostility cascading off Mando as the three of you board his ship has put you so far on edge you can hardly think straight. It must be the stress of knowing he has to retrieve that beskar, surely. Maybe the riskiness of the plan? Could be.

Or what if he’s just worried about you working alone with Torre? 

It may be all three. But at least you can try to help appease one of those worries right now. Maybe he just needs reassurance you’ll be okay. Remind him you can handle yourself. So, while the Crest navigates toward the warp spot, you make your way up to the cockpit and approach his tense, hackled back. 

He’s situated R5 by the input port. The old droid beeps and rotates, dialled into the instruments. It swivels a sensor to where you hover by your chair. Seems to detect the tension in the air and wheels back to the console, going quiet.

‘I know we agreed we can’t trust Torre,’ you say carefully. His helm twists aside like he’s listening, but he doesn’t turn. ‘And we can’t,’ you add quickly. ‘But I’ll be okay.’ 

A slight rise of shoulders, otherwise nothing. 

‘Trust me,’ you try again. ‘I know how to handle him.’

Mando reacts to that. He scoffs.

‘Yes, you know him very well,’ he grits.

Hang on, what does that mean? Incredulous, kind of affronted, you step back. 

‘Is that what I said?’

‘And I am sure he knows how to handle you too.’

You’re so caught off guard you forget why you even came up here. How could he even think… Like that… He’s giving you his still-as-a-grave stance, waiting for your slip.

‘Hells d’you mean?’ you ask, trying to keep anger and hurt out of your voice. You thought you’d been getting somewhere with him.

‘How did you even know about beskar?’ he snaps, like he’s been waiting to accuse you of something. 

‘What--?’

‘Back in town, at the marshal’s house. You knew it was important. How? You didn’t know a thing about Mandalorians when I met you.’

That sends you back another step. Where is this coming from? You can’t stop the affronted tone from your question.

‘Are you suspicious of me or something?’

Some kind of tide breaks and he finally pivots to glower over you.

‘Amazing coincidence isn’t it?’ he spits. ‘We happen to run into someone from your past with a bounty too good to be true, he knows you, has the perfect plan? Needs exactly what we have? And you’ll just follow him along?’

A rage bubbles up in you and you try to will it down. Swallow, deep breaths. But your best efforts fail. A sudden fury swells between the two of you and you can’t see a way to quell it. 

‘If you’ll remember,’ you say through gritted teeth. ‘I said he was a spy and a schemer. I know what you know. How the fuck can I do any different?’ You wave at his shiny chrome chest plate, furious. ‘I remind you we’re here for you?’

He spins away from you, pretends to adjust dials. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he snarls. ‘I will take the beskar, and you can take whatever riches you can, use it to go back to what you’re used to. The life you had.’

The last word hits you like a blaster to the chest. The floor of the Crest's cockpit opens up and you are in freefall. How… how--? You’d thought he understood you didn’t want that life, told him one of the worst things that had happened to you in that place. You chose to leave them. Chose this life. You’d thought he understood.

‘I didn’t choose that life. I chose this one, I chose y—’

‘But you did choose it.’ He’s so riled up he doesn’t hear you. ‘When I asked you to stay, you told me you had to go back.’

‘Had to, not wanted to!’

He whirls back on you, leans in. ‘Is there really a difference? You would have stayed if not for your family trying to sell you off. I’ve never seen a person more at home in gold and gems and--’

‘That isn’t what I want!’ Your voice rises. ‘How could you think that about me?’

‘How am I supposed to know what you want? You are like an open book sometimes, then you shut yourself up out of nowhere.’

‘Well better a book than a blank fucking wall,’ you may be screaming now. ‘I don’t get to read you at all!’

R5 interrupts the molten fire spitting between you. The Crest is on approach. You just wrench away and march to meet Torre at the hatch, not looking back once but knowing the Mandalorian is going to bring you in to retrieve his treasure anyway.

--

Prev | Next

[limey-self-inserts]

First Day Alive

Word Count: 3.8k words F/Os: The 501st (familial) Summary: Ajax's first meeting with the 501st and Domino Squad, before they even have a name. Content warnings: canon is a sandpit and we are building castles here

Tag list: @lavenoon @mikealys-ael @rexscanonwife @space-sweetheart @bugsband @ssunnybee @avenships @faerie-circle-ships

--------

As ever it did, a storm rolled over the surface of Kamino. It rained more than it shone sunlight out here, but the weather was as much deterrent to those who wanted to reach the secrets on the surface as much as the fleet of starships that floated in space above the planet. Within the clone factory and training base, it was usually impossible to hear any of the storm’s sounds. To do that, you needed to find the quiet spaces in the corridors where the vents drew close, and the thunder could sneak down the metal veins to rumble in the distance. Or you could head to the hangar bay.

“How goes it?” Rex called out to the other trooper who stood to the side of the hangar doors, just barely touched by the rain that lashed the metal floors and roof tops of the smooth domed buildings. Neither of them could see the ocean from here, but it roared louder than the wind. 

“Miserable, but a good light show,” Fox replied, gesturing up towards the skies. Thick clouds were intermittently split by lightning, turning the grey-green sky to hues of blue. And somewhere beyond that, roiling red and orange sparks could be seen descending towards the ocean horizon, far from their reach. Although the sparks were certainly not natural, neither clone trooper reacted with surprise.

“General Shaak Ti had mentioned a Separatist cruiser coming in too close for comfort. Looks like that’s not going to be an issue for us,” Rex commented, folding his arms as he watched the shreds of debris cascade down past the lightning storm.

“Mmm. Someone too bold or too stupid,” Fox agreed. “But that’s their problem now.”

“Was their problem.”

Both clones shared a small smile of amusement, silently laughing over some hapless droids that had been left to burn up in the atmosphere on the orders of someone who hadn’t put their head on straight. Anything that could be a victory, even the destruction of a Separatist cruiser without needing to lift a blaster, was taken as one.

There wasn’t time to celebrate, of course.

“You’re expected in the training facility with the rest of the boys soon,” Rex said. “We might be here on medical but we still need to keep sharp. I’ve got to track down Jesse, so I’ll see you there.”

“Right you are, Captain.” Fox snapped a quick salute before marching back inside alongside Rex, leaving the rolling storm, far away falling debris, and the very close hungry ocean behind the hangar doors.

-

Ninety-Nine knew the corridors of the Tipoca City facility well. So well in fact he could easily have navigated it blind. Not that he ever had to - the facility was constantly bathed in white light, as if the darkened sky of storm clouds didn’t exist. But he knew each corridor and each store room and every maintenance hatch’s location, a little helping hand for his janitorial duties.

Shuffling along to the next store room along, he ducked aside for a squad of clone infantrymen - freshly graduated from the look and sounds of them, their high spirits and eagerness as they chatted amongst themselves. Ninety-Nine would never count in one of their number on the battlefield, but he took great pride in being a clone still. Important duties needed to be done here at home as much as at war.

The store room door slid open and he pushed the hov-trolley inside. This room was mostly medical supplies, boxes of mediscan units and painkillers alongside huge tanks of bacta, mostly to be shipped off to the front line alongside medic squads. Picking a data-pad off the trolley, Ninety-Nine began to scan over the crates and tanks surrounding him, ticking off what he saw. Anything they needed he would be able to bring to the Kaminoans attention, and then they would ensure the shipments arrived. Although not always in good time, as he noted that the supplies here had already been flagged as needing restocking.

“War’s tough on everyone and everything,” he muttered, holstering the data-pad back on the trolley and beginning to load up a supply run for the medical wing.

Wait.

What was thudding?

Turning around, his eyes skimmed over the store room. There it was again, that low metal beating sound. The waves were too far below to be able to strike against the sides of the facility, and the storms rarely got so bad as to physically impact the city. So then…

His eyes turned to the maintenance hatch in the floor.

 THUNK THUNK

Turning on his heel, Ninety-Nine shuffle-ran for the store room door, grateful for the automation to fling it open fast enough for him to exit. Further gratitude arose as he spotted familiar faces of Domino Squad in the corridor, Fives and Hevy both catching sight of him and rapidly going from delight to concern.

“Ninety-Nine! What’s wrong?” Fives called out, leading the squad to hurry across. Other eyes spotted the attention. Other passing troopers paused to watch. It was a soldier’s instinct - to see the disturbance before it could begin. And Jesse, one of the elite 501st, was the closest to be drawn over with a frown.

“Someone’s below the maintenance hatch,” Ninety-Nine replied breathlessly. “We’ve got a security breach.”

“Shouldn’t we alert the system?” Echo asked quickly.

“Not if we deal with the intruder ourselves,” Heavy replied, hand squeezing on the grip of his blaster pistol. But Jesse stepped in, pushing his hand down and away.

“Are they actively breaking in?” he asked Ninety-Nine, who shook his head.

“They’re…knocking.”

“Alright. You open the hatch. Domino, you provide cover. I’ll alert the system the moment we start shooting.” 

Domino Squad were still fresh from graduating, waiting for their first assignment, but they moved like a squadron that had been fighting together for years. They filed into the store room as one, flanking around Ninety-Nine as he took position at the entrance hatch. The knocking was beginning to get more rapid, as if the entity below knew that there were people in the room. Briefly the clones all glanced to each other, before Cutup nodded towards Ninety-Nine. He reached down and twisted at the locking system. The hatch hissed. Locks fell back from sockets. The hinge swung upwards. Four blaster pistols readied themselves at the open hole where the storm and wind began to howl from.

A sodden human stared back. Possibly a youngling. They gripped to the emergency escape ladder like it was the only thing keeping them alive, wet hair plastered to their face. Bright blue eyes looked up at the squad and Ninety-Nine, wide and scared and exhausted.

For a moment, no-one moved. The clones waited. The human stared.

“Sorry,” they murmured. “I-I couldn’t find the front door.”

“Kriff’s sake, what’s this supposed to be?” Hevy snapped.

“Could be a spy?” Fives raised.

“We won’t find out leaving them out in the cold, will we?” Droidbait looked over his shoulder to Jesse, who was also caught staring. “Alert General Shaak Ti. Let her know an intruder got into the facility but we have them secured.”

As Jesse turned to speak rapidly into a comms device, Echo holstered his pistol, kneeling down to extend a hand to the human. They took it quickly, a foot slipping from the ladder, but Echo’s strength and their arm pulling onto the room flooring overhead kept both from tumbling back down to the ocean below. He hauled them through, Hevy reaching over to hook a hand under the human’s other arm and help pull them fully into the store room, allowing Ninety-Nine to seal the hatch once more. They lay on the floor, more beached fish than human, gulping down deep breaths as their eyes tried to focus on the figures around them. 

“C’mon, get up,” Hevy said firmly.

“I don’t think they can.” Ninety-Nine approached, kneeling down and taking the human’s pulse. “Heart rate is going too fast.”

“You might need to call in a med-bay,” Echo called over to Jesse. “Looks like they really did climb all the way up from the ocean.”

As the squad continued to discuss over their heads, Ninety-Nine felt fingers catch on the edge of his uniform sleeve. The human caught his eye, and the faintest of smiles slipped past their lips. A faint “Thank you” formed but was not spoken.

He was a good soldier. He hadn’t seen the enemy but knew them well. It seemed wrong that the enemy would come directly to the clone force’s doorstep with a face that was so exhausted.

He held their hand until the medics came in with the gravstretcher.

-

“Human, planetary origin unknown. Biological age, around twenty six standard years. Anatomically female, although signs of past surgery suggest alternative designation. Much more recent signs of surgeries show the subject to have experienced numerous incisions across the front and sides of the torso, although our medical scans have not picked up on any foreign objects present in the body.”

Nala Se read the results from the data pad in her hands, although her eyes frequently flickered to the individual that lay within the medibed. Shaak Ti also rarely looked away, her face creased by a firm frown, the humming of electrical equipment punctuated by the soft rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

“Closer examination of the subject found broken fingernails and bruised pads from impact or attempts to open an object; a near hypothermic state from exposure to cold temperatures; trace amounts of seawater in the lungs; and severe muscle fatigue.” Nala Se now glanced across to Shaak Ti. “Tying in from the Separatist medical robes they were first found in, it would seem that it was not only shipwreck debris that has been falling on Kamino.”

“If escape pods managed to get past the blockade then anything else could have made it past,” Shaak Ti muttered. “This isn’t good.”

“The prime minister will need to be informed,” Nala Se agreed, nodding her head slowly. “Defences must be fortified.”

“Have you managed to identify them?”

“It is….proving to be difficult.”

Something about Nala Se’s hesitancy and body posture carried the tone of embarrassment more than evasiveness. Shaak Ti’s head tilted, her gaze turning to fix upon the Kaminoan scientist. Caught under scrutiny, Nala Se ducked her head down further.

“With our biometric scanners, we are normally well capable of identifying any individual. However, it is reliant on using live tissue. The subject’s tissue….is not live.”

But then - both scientist and general looked back to the medibed. To the heart monitor that beeped steadily away. 

“They are living, are they not?” Shaak Ti questioned.

“They are indeed, general. It is possible there is a technological fault at hand. I will speak to one of the facility technicians to have the subject scanned elsewhere.”

And just like that, the thought was pushed to the back of their minds, where it would remain unwilling to be considered. Far easier to fault the highest state of technology on the planet, than to take into truth the possibility of something that could be alive and dead at the same time.

“I will go to speak with Lama Su,” Shaak Ti says, pulling away towards the exit of the medical room. “I have instructed Domino Squad to guard the intruder until a decision is made as to what will be done with them.”

“I must accompany you, to provide the prime minister with information on the subject’s state,” Nala Se commented, her steps gliding along beside the jedi. “Once we have concluded whether the subject is a threat or not, we will want to take steps to interrogate them as to how they escaped the transport ship, whether before or after the cruiser was brought down by the blockade.”

The room emptied, door sliding closed behind the pair.

Silence. A steady beep. Blue highlights across a still body.

Eyes opened. Head turning to glance towards the door, a steady breath escaping before they lay back again. Eyes closed.

The door slid open again, allowing the tail of a conversation to spill into the quiet space.

“- delaying us from taking proper assignments.”

“This is our assignment now. It’s important for the safety of the facility, for the city, for the rest of our brothers,” Droidbait returned fire to Cutup, who folded his arms.

“I do reckon we don’t need everyone in this room,” he said. “I’d rather keep guard on the front door.”

“That’s a fair call. Who wants front door and who wants inside the room?”

The squad split relatively evenly, Fives and Echo settling on chairs inside the room as the rest of the troopers filed out to the front door. Another silence returned, although this one accompanied by an air of….impatience. Curiosity. Thoughts rotated in the space between.

“Do you think they’re actually a spy?” Echo asked.

“Anyone could be a spy. Could be they put themselves in this condition as a way for us to lower our guard, or they’re just a….” Fives waved a hand through the air. “Bad spy.”

“Guess you’re right about that.” More silence. More thoughts. “It seems risky though. They could’ve been blown up with the Separatist cruiser. If they came down with an escape pod, it might’ve sunk with them inside. Too many holes in that sort of a plan.”

“Who’s to say it wasn’t ejected before the cruiser was blown up?”

“But then the system would’ve flagged it. Instead it was hidden with the debris fall. That’s why no-one was alerted until they were quite literally knocking at the front door.”

“So it was risky, but still perfectly timed to be hidden?”

Echo went silent, and Fives folded his arms as he looked back to the resting figure.

More silence. But fewer thoughts now.

Boredom was easy to slip through the edges. Even good soldiers got bored, and guarding a sleeping body was a sure-fire way to go about it.

“Where do you think we’ll go first?” Echo asked.

“From what I’ve heard, it’s a seventy-thirty shot of being sent straight to the frontlines or posted up on active guard duty. There’s some talk of a new push being made for Hypori. And although Christophsis was cleared up, there’s still skirmishes happening on the planet’s surface that’ll need reinforcements.”

“There’s a lot of talk about Ryloth. Seems risky leaving the Separatists to establish a base there without sending in troops to counter-.”

“Orders are orders. We wait for the command to come as to where to go.”

The chatter eased through, back and forth, falling and rising through periods of quiet to moments of casual discussion. There was more silence than talk - the reason for their presence wasn’t forgotten.

But it meant the room, for a while, was disconnected from the rest of the facility. So when the blue lighting switched to emergency red, it jolted Fives and Echo into action immediately. 

“What’s happening?” Fives called out to the rest of the squad, opening the door to look outside. The corridors, normally so bright and clear, were now also bathed in red lighting. Troopers ran to their stations, calling out to one another. Domino Squad bristled in their posts, watching as others hurried to where they might be needed.

“Security breach. A proper one this time,” Droidbait replied. “Comm chatter says it’s Separatist droids, stealth bots.”

“Looks like something did come down with the debris fall,” Echo muttered. “The intruder hasn’t done anything over here, so the droids are something separate.”

“We need to gear up and get moving,” Cutup said, Hevy nodding in agreement. But Droidbait shook his head.

“We have our orders to guard this intruder.”

“They’re not doing anything, look at-”

All eyes focused on the human that was very much sat up in the medibed, tentatively shifting over the edge with feet dangling towards the floor. They froze at the sound of no further talking, meeting their gaze.

“I can help.”

Cutup snorted in amusement.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands.”

“I’m not demanding I just…I can help,” the human replied, voice shaking. “You said it was droids.”

“How long have you been awake?” Fives questioned, beginning to prickle. How much had been listened to, eavesdropped on.

“Just for the important bit.” They dropped down the short distance off the medibed and their knees buckled immediately, forcing them to cling to the handles of the bed-frame. Despite the hesitation, despite the tension, Echo took the few steps forward. Slinging an arm under their shoulders, he hoisted them upright.

It was like the first breath before a lightning strike. Hair over his body standing on end, the edges of his armour buzzing just barely to be noticeable, a metallic taste across his tongue.

“I can help,” the human repeated, insistently, looking up towards Echo. And he believed them.

“I think they can help,” he said, glancing back to his squad, who all recoiled in various levels of disbelief and confusion.

“Echo, now is not the time to be acting a di’kut,” Droidbait muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We just managed to pull through graduation, we cannot be spoiling that by assisting an intruder in doing goodness only knows.”

“Look at them, they can barely stand, do you think they’re a threat to us?”

“That makes this worse, you realise? How can they help if they can’t even walk?”

The lights above them flickered. Somewhere deeper in the facility came the echoes of blaster fire. Somewhere in the red there was a haze of blue.

“We managed to conquer the Citadel by trusting each other,” Fives said, slowly, picking through the words. “I can’t see what Echo sees, but we are all brothers, aren’t we? Maybe this will prove us well too.”

That seemed to bring a shift in the squad. Cutup still looked reluctant, but Hevy was beginning to glance over his shoulder, in the direction of the blaster fire.

“Wouldn’t this count as keeping our post? We’re still guarding the intruder, just…not in the med-bay,” he raised. Droidbait’s gaze flickered madly from him, to Fives, to Echo, to the human.

“If we get court-martialed for this, I’m putting all the blame on you lot,” Droidbait muttered, as he unholstered his pistol and activated it.

“If we get court-martialed.”

“What’s your plan?” Echo asked the human, who’d been steadily leaving more of their weight in his hands. He could hold it at least.

“I need to see one of the droids. I can take care of them from there.”

“You heard the civvie. Let’s go droid hunting,” Hevy commented, beginning to head further down the corridor.  

Boots and bare feet fell against the metal flooring, footsteps swallowed behind the background of the alarm blaring. Blaster fire rattled like rain on a hollow roof, echoing louder and louder the further and further Domino Squad proceeded. Rounding a corner together, the sound of the fight washed in hard. Hevy and Cutup split to the opposite side of the T-junction’s mouth, giving cover fire for the other clones who had cornered a pair of stealth droids - lanky bastards that, for any other droid, would be pinned down under the heavy fire, but even now were progressing bit-by-bit up the corridor.

Glancing back towards the reinforcements, Kix and Jesse both went from relief to confusion to alarm. Sensing the pause from his fellow brothers, Rex took a quick look over his shoulder and it was only thanks to the cover of Domino Squad that they were able to maintain the blaster pressure.

“Really? You brought a civvie to a firefight?” Rex questioned as Kix hurried back towards the squad, relieving Echo of his cargo for the moment. The human was visibly sweating under the emergency lighting, but their eyes were clear and hands steady as they accepted the new arm to support them.

“They said they can help,” Echo replied, kneeling down to join Jesse’s side with pistol in hand.

“Oh, I’d like to see what that means.” Jesse rolled his eyes.

Kix didn’t speak up. His gaze was firmly on the human’s hands that were lifted into the air. Their focus trained on the stealth droids, further down the corridor. 

The smell of the storm warped its way through the ventilation system. Or maybe it came from a different source entirely.

With a harsh crackle, electricity sprung from the human’s fingertips. Arching down the corridor in the blink of an eye, the lightning connected with one droid, then the second. Both froze in place, limbs jerking wildly as their wires and connections were burnt to a crisp.

The human dropped, and Kix dropped with them, but it was on purpose instead of fatigue. Palms flat on the floor, those threads of lightning bounced into the metal of the facility, racing through the maintenance tunnels and cords of wires. They’d dug into the droids, and knew how they felt under the bright blue electricity that rolled off them.

Across the facility, the other stealth droids jolted, electrocuted from the sudden burst of electricity that sprung from the floors and walls. The scrap came to as an abrupt halt as it had started, clone troopers and one jedi staring in disbelief as the droids fell to the ground, smoke wafting from their joints.

The human gritted their teeth together, eyes alight with a glow that was almost white. Steam and smoke rolled off their back and shoulders, curled from under their fingertips. Thinking and acting rapidly, Fives rushed forward and brought the butt of his blaster rifle hard on the back of their head.

Silence. Still bodies on the ground. The creeping smell of ozone and petrichor lingered.

“You alright?” Jesse asked, pulling Kix to his feet.

“I’m fine,” Kix replied, turning his hands over in disbelief. He’d been supporting them up until Fives knocked them out, yet not a single burn or char appeared on his palms, or anywhere on his armour.

Lifting the human back up into his arms, Echo felt very aware of how fast his heart was beating. Adrenaline was a natural thing, and he was swimming in it now, just from proximity to this…person? This thing? They’d nearly burned themselves inside out. Had they even known what they were going to do?

I can help.

“General Shaak Ti will have to be informed,” Jesse said firmly. “Again."

"Get them back to the medical bay, so any damage they dealt to themselves can be treated," Rex added in. "There'll be discussions about your decisions another time. But at the very least...good job, Domino Squad."

“They did help,” Fives muttered, glancing away as he holstered his rifle, unwilling to look back at the human’s face. Domino Squad began to tail away towards the med-bay again, only too aware of the murmurings that were already beginning to snake through those present. That the squad had brought a civvie in, and the civvie had brought the storm indoors.

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 2) Chapter Fourteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fourteen: The Darksaber

Summary: Mando is on the warpath to protect his adike, and he and (Y/N) face Gideon.

            As Koska, Fennec, Cara, and Bo-Katan took down stormtrooper after stormtrooper to pull the attention of the imperial cruiser, Mando crept through the empty halls. Each lone trooper he came upon was instantly shot down. He had no time for long fights. He had to get to his kids.

            He was interrupted when he came upon the Dark Trooper unit. The droids were powering up, stomping towards the exit of their holding bay. Mando ran to the controls and shot them through the opening door in an attempt to keep them away. Unfortunately, one managed to grab the doors and force them open long enough for it to punch Mando and escape. The others remained inside, but they were already punching the doors to slowly wear them down and escape.

            Mando scrambled back and shot the Dark Trooper, but it was unimpeded in its approach. It grabbed his wrist and twisted it harshly, forcing a shout from Mando as he lost his grip on the blaster. Its other arm snapped out and grabbed his throat. Mando clutched at it, but he could do nothing as the Dark Trooper raised its now free hand and punched him. Even through the helmet, it was painfully disorienting.

            Behind the Dark Trooper, the rest of the unit had nearly broken through the viewing windows of the holding bay. Mando reached out and activated his flamethrower, hoping to fry the droid’s wires. However, even as flames flew up through the mechanical skeleton, the Dark Trooper was unharmed, and as Mando was forced to deactivate his weapon, he was thrown to the ground roughly.

            Mando scrambled for the holding bay controls again, trying to grab the lever to open the door to space. If he could throw the Dark Troopers out of the ship, he would only have to the deal with the one already attacking. And attacking it was as it grabbed his foot and threw him across the floor once more. Mando pushed himself to his knees, but the Dark Trooper kicked him in the chest, and he flew back.

            The Dark Trooper raised its arm and fired its blaster at Mando. Luckily, the beskar held up, and Mando just groaned as he lifted his arm and fired his Whistling Birds. They attacked the Dark Trooper on every side, and although the droid jerked from the hits, it didn’t stop attacking. However, Mando had time to stand up, twirl his beskar staff around from his back, and stab it through the Dark Trooper’s neck. The droid buzzed, and Mando ripped the spear to the side, severing the head from the body. The trooper collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud.

            Mando didn’t rest on his laurels and ran to the controls for the holding bay. Pulling the lever quickly, the door to space behind the rest of the Dark Trooper unit opened. They were thrown into space.

            Mando took a deep breath to regain his bearings before turning and running back through the halls. He had to get to the detention level quickly. His kids were waiting for him.

            Mando frantically pushed each button to open the cell doors. Each empty room made his heart heavier. Where were his kids? When he finally opened a door and found Grogu in tiny shackles sitting on a stone slab, Mando felt his heart leap in relief.

            “Hey, kid,” said Mando, carefully opening the little cuffs. “How are you?” Grogu cooed happily and reached up to Mando, who picked him up and cradled him close. “I know. I missed you, too, buddy.” He gazed down at Grogu. “Do you know where (Y/N) is?”

            Grogu babbled and pointed to the side. Mando understood. The next cell held (Y/N).

            He nodded. “Alright, buddy, stay close, okay?”

            Carefully, he held Grogu close as he left the cell and went to the next door. He pressed the button, and the doors slid open. Mando’s heart dropped.

            Gideon stood next to (Y/N), holding a blade of pure darkness, the Darksaber, to their throat. (Y/N)’s eyes were alive with fierce anger, but with their hands shackled, they couldn’t attack. That didn’t stop their rage from radiating through the room, their Ushti markings creasing with their narrowed eyes into sharp daggers.

            “Drop the blaster. Put down the Child,” said Gideon coldly. “Slowly.”

            Mando knelt, placing his blaster down with one hand and lowering Grogu with the other. Grogu, sensing Mando needed to handle the issue, took a step to the corner of the room in case a fight broke out and he needed to hide (listen, Grogu wasn’t totally smart, but he had seen Mando and (Y/N) do this enough to figure it out).

            “Now, kick the blaster over to me,” ordered Gideon.

            Mando kicked the blaster. He glanced at (Y/N) and the blade a hair’s length from their throat. “Give me the kid.”

            “The Ushti is just fine where they are. And the Child was just fine where he was,” said Gideon. He moved the blade up and down (Y/N)’s neck as a clear warning for Mando to not make any moves. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan. Yes, I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

            “Where is this going?” questioned Mando.

            “This is where it’s going,” said Gideon. “I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge, seeking me or, more accurately, this.” He gestured to the Darksaber.

            Bo-Katan came to help? (Y/N) was surprised but honored. They would be damned before they allowed Gideon to put everyone’s hard work to help them and Grogu to waste. And as (Y/N) glanced between Gideon and Mando, they made a silent promise. They’d die before Gideon managed to hurt Mando.

            “But I’m not there,” continued Gideon. “And I imagine that they’ve killed everyone on the bridge, being the murderous savages that they are. And now, they’re beginning to panic.”

            Kriffing hell, will he hurry the monologue up? If I had my dagger, I’d stab him just to get him to stop talking, thought (Y/N).

            “You see, she wants this,” said Gideon, waving the Darksaber slightly. “Do you know why? Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword…has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”

            That’s a stupid rule, thought (Y/N). I thought Mandalorians were smart enough to not just let a single person hold a weapon and be able to say they’re in charge.

            “You keep it,” said Mando. “I just want the kids.”

            Gideon glanced between Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N). “Very well.” He deactivated the Darksaber. “I’ve already got what I want from them. Their blood.”

            (Y/N) winced as they remembered the needle in their skin, forcing their blood out of their body for whatever Gideon’s sick experiments would be.

            “All I wanted was to study their blood,” said Gideon. “These children are extremely gifted and have been blessed with rare properties that have the potential bring order back to the galaxy.”

            Yeah, no way am I going to be a puppet for the Empire, thought (Y/N), their hands curled into fists.

            Gideon smirked. “I see your bond with them. Take them.” Mando moved towards (Y/N), and Gideon spoke again, causing Mando to freeze. “But you will leave my ship immediately, and we will go our separate ways.”

            Mando was silent as he considered how much he was willing to sacrifice to get (Y/N) and Grogu back safely. He took a step towards (Y/N).

            “Don’t trust him!” (Y/N) spoke for the first time, their voice filled with conviction. “Don’t take his deal! He’ll go back on it, he’ll hunt you, and if you leave him here, he’ll be able to hurt more people!”

            Gideon smirked. “Too clever for your own good.”

            The Darksaber activated, and he swung at Mando. Sparks flew from the beskar as Mando took the hit, stumbling backwards. Gideon advanced, and the pair backed into the hall. (Y/N) cursed since they were still cuffed, but they jumped up anyways.

            “Stay here, Grogu. We’ll handle this,” said (Y/N), and Grogu cooed in encouragement.

            (Y/N) ran into the hall and saw Gideon forcing Mando to twist and dodge around his powerful swings. The Darksaber arched through the air, the pale glow hypnotic as its center pulled shadows out of thin air. As Mando stumbled back, (Y/N) moved into action. Grabbing the beskar staff from Mando’s back, they blocked Gideon’s next blow. (Y/N) twisted, allowing the Darksaber close enough to feel the burn of pure energy on their wrists. Taking a risk, (Y/N) spun.

            The Darksaber cut through their cuffs in a singular slice, and (Y/N) twisted again to block Gideon’s attack more forcefully. Now freed from the shackles, (Y/N) was ready for a proper fight. Gideon pulled the saber back and swung down again. (Y/N) gritted their teeth, forced backwards by the blow. Mando was quick to intervene, grabbing the staff from behind them. Stronger, he more accurately defended Gideon’s attack, allowing (Y/N) to duck away and steal a knife from Mando’s belt. It wasn’t their Ushti dagger, but it was enough for a fight.

            As Mando took steps back as Gideon glared at him and slice through the walls as he advanced, (Y/N) slid across the floor beneath the men’s arms. They sliced through Gideon’s leg, and Gideon growled as his blood spilt across the floor. He stumbled, and Mando pushed him back. Gideon raised his weapon, still parrying any of Mando’s blows from the front. Unfortunately for him, (Y/N) was now behind, still carrying a dagger.

            As Mando twisted the staff to force Gideon back, (Y/N) ran forward again. With two quick flicks of their wrist, they sliced across Gideon’s arm. He growled in anger and turned to force the Darksaber towards them, but (Y/N) anticipated his move. They flipped the dagger over in their hand and stabbed up. Gideon muffled a shout as the blade stabbed his arm, and his grip on the Darksaber faltered. It clattered to the ground.

            Mando surged forward and forced Gideon to the ground. He held the beskar spear’s tip to his neck, and (Y/N) was poised behind Gideon, prepared to stab him at a moment’s notice. Indeed, nothing would make them happier than killing Gideon, but upon seeing Mando leave him alive, they didn’t act. (Y/N) trusted his judgement. They glared down at Gideon as he stared up between (Y/N) and Mando with humiliated anger.

            “You’re sparing me?” he challenged, forcing a smug expression. “Well, this should be interesting."

            “Watch it. I’m not sure Bo-Katan will feel the same way,” spat (Y/N).

            Mando didn’t move his spear from its place at Gideon’s neck. “(Y/N), grab the Darksaber. I’ll watch him.”

            (Y/N) nodded and walked over. When they passed Mando, they slide the knife they had taken from him back into his belt. They missed the feeling of their Ushti dagger in their holster, but they had seen the destroyed remnants of the Razorcrest when the Dark Troopers had taken them. It was gone. (Y/N) took a deep breath as they approached the Darksaber to give it to Mando. They would handle it. There was no time to mourn it.

            (Y/N) picked up the Darksaber. They expected it to weigh something in their palm, but they were surprised by how light it felt. For a moment, (Y/N) allowed themself to hold it. It felt surprisingly right in their hands.

            Again, a soft whisper echoed through them. It was comforting and compelling, and they felt entranced by it. (Y/N) couldn’t make our precise words, but they sensed the calling as they held the Darksaber. It wanted them to activate it.

            (Y/N) ignored it and handed it over to Mando. They had no time for the Darksaber. They wanted this issue with Gideon to be over with. They had more pressing issues to deal with. They needed to apologize to Mando for their fight. After all, (Y/N) would have to leave him. And whatever the Darksaber was mattered far less than Mando.

Taglist:

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[autoacafiles]

Thank you for information on the Time Controller. I would like more data on the ranks of old and new Dalek empires?

In the current Dalek hierarchy, the Dalek Parliament utilised Dalek Squadron Leaders to command a single Assault Cruiser worth of Daleks. These would often be utilised for small scale attacks or operations, though would usually be part of a larger fleet. The Neo-Imperial would utilise Red Paradigm Drones in a similar command capacity. In combat situations, both units often command on the frontline, leading the charge alongside their fellow drones, though boasting a stronger force field and inbuilt enhanced transmitter-receivers.

Above the Assault Leaders/Paradigm drones would be Dalek Commanders. These would normally command small fleets of Daleks, normally consisting of half a dozen assault cruisers and a single command battle cruiser. The purpose of Dalek Commanders was to typically command the invasion and, if it���s resources were of value, occupation of a planet. By the time of the Parliament/Neo-Imperial Civil War, Commanders were specifically bred to replace the older battle computers, even possessing a private Dalek Pathweb with other Dalek Commanders.

The highest rank in the Dalek military hierarchy, Dalek Supremes have been known through history to be feared Dalek leaders, often reporting directly to an Emperor. In the current time, Dalek Supremes command vast warfleets, consisting of dozens battlecruisers and assault cruisers, and commanded from the feared Exterminator-class Dreadnoughts. These fleets could hold vast sectors of space, and would often be designated for direct warfare with other galactic powers. Dalek Supremes rarely ventured out into direct battle, instead commanding from their flagship or Dalek bases, surrounded by host of Dalek Strategists and Analysts as they dished out orders.

The Dalek Parliament, as the name would suggest, is commanded by the Parliament of the Dalek, a body consisting of nearly a hundred supreme Daleks. This would be commanded by the Dalek Prime Minister and the Supreme Overseer, a unique Supreme Dalek intended to fulfil the role of the now deceased original Dalek Supreme of the New Dalek Paradigm. The Parliament was established to avoid the potential poor decision making of a single leader, notably the descent into madness many Emperors have undergone.

The Dalek Parliament also incorporated several special advisors, including the Dalek Time Strategist, who would be charged with monitoring threats to the Dalek timeline, as well as any opportunity for the Dalek to regain temporal technology; the Dalek Prime Strategist, an ancient Dalek from the first generation of Daleks who had developed a keen strategist Mind from watching thousands of Dalek victories and defeats; and the Dalek Litigator, a Dalek strangely concentrated on law. Quite an odd position, given how little concern Daleks have for order outside their own command structure.

Meanwhile, the Neo-Imperial Faction are lead by the Supreme Council, a triumvirate consisting of the three surviving Daleks of the New Dalek Paradigm, saved by the Dalek Chief scientist after the Siege of the Arkheion Device by extracting their mind through the path web and placing them into new bodies. The Council consists of the Chief Strategist, in command of Military Operations; the Chief Scientist, who commanded all scientific and technological endeavours; and the Dalek Eternal, once simply charged with chartering the history of Dalek engagements, it now serves as the leader of the council, having absorbed the remnant memory engrams of the two deceased Paradigm Council members to command more efficiently. However, the Supreme Council is only a temporary position, as the trio seek to create a new Dalek Emperor to once more lead the Daleks.

At their earliest, the Daleks were led by the Dalek Prime, one of the very first Daleks created on Skaro. This Dalek would become the first Dalek Emperor, and after its death, would be inspire several other Emperors, including an alter ego of Davros himself. In the interims where the Daleks had no Emperor, they would often be led by a council of Supreme Daleks.

As well as the various Daleks, there were also a number of other specialised ranks such as Dalek Strategists, Scientists, Analysts and Executioners who would often be assigned a squad under their command. A unique squad consisting of the Dalek Time Commander, Dalek Time Scientist and Dalek Time Executioner commanded a specialised squad in tandem with the Dalek Time Strategist. Other roles included Pilot Daleks, who manned their saucers, gunships and other craft, Reconnaissance Daleks, who scouted out potential target worlds, and Special Weapon Dalek, formidable heavy weapons unit with immensely powerful primary cannon.

However, while the Neo-Imperials were content to stop there, the Dalek Parliament saw fit to experiment with Dalek models, down to their genetics. These produced curious variants including Spider Daleks, Glider Daleks and, perhaps the most formidable breed of Dalek created, the Dalek Berserker. These formidable creatures have been bred to the point of insanity, killing anything and everything in their way, even fellow Daleks. Adding to powerful weapons, they possess the ability reconstitute their casing, often incorporating nearby material into their bodies, including organic material and other Daleks. With such a force even they cannot control, Daleks only use their Berserkers when a planet is worth so little to them that there is only one option - total extermination.