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heymrsandman · 5 months

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Wanna Try Star Trek? 2 - Kate Mulgrew and Explosions

Hello again Tumblr, it’s me, John Startrek, back to recap another episode of Star Trek in a newcomer friendly way so that I can help show just how fun and wild these shows are to watch. If you’re boldly going into this franchise for the first time, or an old hand, welcome!

The Great Trek Wheel has selected a doozy for us today, in the form of the episode Deadlock, from episode 21 of season 2 of Star Trek: Voyager. So let’s talk about Voyager.

Voyager aired for seven seasons between 1995 - 2001, launching as the flagship series for the then brand new UPN channel. The basic premise is that a fresh off the factory starship, under the command of the recently promoted Captain Kathryn Janeway, are sent out on a short mission to capture members of a terrorist group called the Maquis. During the mission, both Voyager and the Maquis ship found themselves flung to the far side of the galaxy and the two crews have to unite and travel back the long way round. Yes, this is the salamander sex show you’ve seen trekkie tumblrinas get so excited over.

With no Starfleet and no support, Voyager must make it on her own, with only the grit and gumption of her crew to protect her. She’s going to explode a lot this episode.

Before we get started, I do want to throw out a quick content warning: this episode contains the death of a small child.

We open on a charming little domestic scene. The ship’s cook, Neelix (a Delta Quadrant native Voyager had recruited back in the pilot) is asking recurring character Samantha Wildman to check on a few technical difficulties he’s been having. Samantha, despite being heavily pregnant, is only too happy to agree.

Medical Officer’s Note: Samantha Wildman’s actually been pregnant since the show started, her child having been conceived before Voyager disappeared. Given that Trek adheres to the general rule that one season is about one year in the show, this means that her baby might seem slightly overdue. However, the father is a Ktarian, and this is apparently quite normal.

Samantha goes into labour and Neelix rushes her to the medical bay, where the ship’s doctor sets about delivering little baby Wildman. By the by, the Doctor is a hologram (Voyager’s doctor having died during the events that stranded Voyager) called the Doctor. The nurse is another Delta Quadrant native named Kes.

We cut to the bridge, where everyone’s on the edge of their seats while they wait for news. Again, it’s cute, getting to see the daily lives and mundane concerns of the crew. I dunno, it makes me happy. The usually reserved Tuvok even shares that his wife once spent 96 hours in labour. The idea that Tuvok recognises the consternation of his colleagues and, instead of preaching about logic as Vulcans are wont to do, chooses to soothe their nerves instead is just the kind of charisma that Voyager’s detractors tend to overlook.

It’s not all smiles and storytimes, however, as a Vidiian ship shows up on sensors. Janeway never met an emergency she didn’t want to mud wrestle into oblivion, so she soon orders the ship to hide in a nearby plasma drift on the advice of one of her officers. There’s a pretty shot of Voyager doing just that.

Science Officer’s Note: One of the reasons for Voyager being set on the far side of the galaxy was the opportunity to create new aliens to serve as recurring antagonists. The Vidiians were one of those races. They don’t get to do a lot here, but when they do get focus they tend to be quite creepy. The entire species is dying from an incurable disease called the Phage, and they travel the stars harvesting the organs of other races to prolong their own lives.

Remember what our medical officer said about the baby being half Ktarian? That means that that little baby Wildman has horns on their forehead, which have gotten caught in the uterine wall. Yeah, I winced at that too. The safest solution is to use the ship’s transporters to teleport the baby into a nearby bed, apparently. Gotta wonder why they weren’t doing that in the first place, to be honest. I know I’d prefer it.

It’s a girl! Samantha doesn’t have a name prepared, but with the mystical powers of having watched this show before, I can inform you that her name’s Naomi. We’ll be using that going forward, cause it’s gonna come up. Due to the transporter, there’s a slight issue with young Naomi that the Doctor is going to treat with something called osmotic pressure therapy.

Just then, main power cuts out and the engines stall. Janeway called the Chief Engineer, B’Elanna Torres, and establish that the ship is rapidly running out of antimatter, basically their source of fuel. The two technobabble back and forth until they have a solution, setting off proton bursts that’ll basically keep the remaining antimatter from using itself up. Seeing as everything’s now safely in hand, it’d sure be a shame if the ship suddenly started exploding.

Anyway, the ship starts exploding.

Chief Engineer’s Note: Whenever the ship is under attack, hitting turbulence, what have you, they aren’t actually blowing up the set, of course. Instead, the cameras are rocked about and the actors are told to just play pretend. This makes it all the more impressive that Kate Mulgew throws herself quite so violently out of the captain’s chair during this episode.

See, the proton bursts are firing, but without any of the safety procedures in place it’s doing massive damage. Torres swears she didn’t start the procedure. In fact, one of the damaged systems is the very one they’d use to fire the bursts in the first place! Casualties are flooding in from all over the ship. Explosions are wracking the bridge, throwing our characters around violently. It’s all very tense.

There’s a rupture in the ship’s hull, down on Deck 15. Ensign Harry Kim tells Janeway he thinks he can seal it, and gets sent off to do so with the help of B’Elanna and somebody who’s not a main character. Three guesses who’s gonna die.

The Doctor’s trying his best to keep up with triage, but baby Naomi is struggling. With more bursts hitting the ship, the Doctor is temporarily knocked offline at a crucial moment. Back on the bridge, they’ve still no idea how to stop the bursts, but think they can minimise the effects with technobabble.

Lt Hogan, the non-main character, is hurt badly by an exploding panel, but Kim & B’Elanna can’t go back and help him. The big hole in the floor that leads into the yawning void of space is slightly more pressing.

This is where Naomi doesn’t make it. Even in the midst of triage, the Doctor takes a moment to comfort Samantha. But it’s not long before duty calls again, with Hogan requesting medical aid. Kes rushes off to save him.

Things aren’t going any better on Deck 15. Another burst rocks the ship and Kim falls through the breach and B’Elanna can’t save him. He’s flushed into space, dead and gone. With no time to mourn, B’Elanna turns back to help Hogan, only to see Kes run down the corridor and vanish into thin air.

And you thought Hogan was gonna die.

Despite all the tragedy around her, B’Elanna’s almost as tenacious with a problem that presents itself as Janeway. She waves a tricorder at the space where Kes disappeared and detects a spatial rift that leads to somewhere with a breathable atmosphere, which she reports in. There’s no time to explore, however, so she and Hogan evacuate the deck.

With the blasts minimised for the moment, Janeway gets a truly devastating damage report from Tuvok, including the death of Naomi. But a crisis is where Janeway thrives. With barely a moment’s pause, she starts ordering triage of their biggest problems.

Another burst rocks the ship, causing a hull breach on the bridge and knocking out the technobabble that they’d just spent all that time setting up to minimise the proton bursts. Janeway orders a full evacuation as fires rage around her. Well, full except for her, as she stays behind to try and seal the breach.

Chakotay, the first officer, yells at her to hurry up and leave dammit. She does acquiesce, but on her way she sees a ghostly image of the crew in their seats on an unexploded bridge. The ghostly Janeway notices her too. Spooky.

Turns out there’s a whole other Voyager, which hasn’t had any explosions tearing it apart, where Janeway has been going completely unenriched and is all about figuring out her momentary hallucination. Kim, alive and well on this Voyager, tells her that there was a momentary spatial rift, for all of a millisecond. Sadly, they can’t tell any more with all the proton bursts they’re doing to save their fuel. So Janeway orders them sped up. Uh oh.

At least Naomi is safe and healthy in this version, the therapy having worked perfectly. Also in this nice clean sickbay is a second Kes, who mysteriously appeared on Deck 15.

Ship Counsellor’s Note: With two Voyagers and two crews, things could get a little complicated. From here on out, we’ll be referring to Janeway et al from the explosion dimension as Janeway 1, Voyager 1, etc. and everything from the non-exploding Voyager will be Janeway 2 etc

Kes 1 explains what happened to her ship to Janeway 2, and is eager to get back and help Voyager 1. Janeway 2 and B’Elanna 2 pretty quickly work out that somehow the plasma drift duplicated Voyager and all the matter aboard, but not the antimatter. With two ships drawing from the same fuel source, it’s no wonder the stuff was draining so fast. Janeway 2 orders the proton bursts stopped, but that means the antimatter starts draining again.

Together, Janeway 2 & B’Elanna 2 manage to figure out a way to talk to Voyager 1, where they manage to speak with Janeway 1 who has had to set up shop in the Engineering department.

Most of this conversation happens offscreen, and afterwards the crew of Voyager 1 are torn on whether or not to trust Janeway 2. Janeway 1 says she knows enough information about the situation and her own history that she’s willing to believe it and enact Janeway 2’s plan that was not explodey enough to let us listen in on.

The plan to merge the two Voyagers doesn’t work, and instead causes more explosions. The antimatter is now haemorrhaging, the com link is lost and there’s 30 minutes of power left, if that.

Two Janeways up against a strict time limit, with the deaths of hundreds of people on the line? The universe doesn’t stand a chance.

To wit, Voyager 2 has figured out a way to send Kes 1 back to her ship, and Janeway 2’s going with her. The two Janeways talk about how to fix their mutual problem in a really tight shot that makes it look like she’s about to pin herself against the bulkhead and make out sloppy style. That’s one for AO3, I guess.

Janeway 2 recommends another technobabble solution, and Janeway 1’s already ruled it out with her B’Elanna. She counters with the suggestion to move the crew of Voyager 1 to Voyager 2, but B’Elanna 2 has already figured out that that’d make everything explode, so another no go.

There’s only one thing for it, Janeway 1 is gonna self destruct her Voyager. Janeway 2 tries to argue it with her, but not even Janeway can defeat Janeway. Janeway 1 does agree to a 15 minute reprieve, in case of any last minute genius ideas.

With Janeway 2 back on her pristine bridge, she calls up Janeway 2 and begins to describe a plan to her counterpart. I say begins, because hey, remember the Vidiians? That hostile alien race that kickstarted this plot? Well, they’ve found Voyager and neither version of the ship is able to raise shields or engage weapons thanks to the power drain.

The Vidiians fire on Voyager but only Voyager 2 seems to be affected. And when they board Voyager, it’s only Voyager 2 that gets boarded. Outnumbered two to one and being swiftly overrun, Janeway 2 decides it’s her turn to have some explosions and announces to Janeway 1 that she’s going to self-destruct her ship so Voyager 1 can escape. What’s more, she’s going to send Kim 2 along with Naomi 2 to replace their dead counterparts on Voyager 1.

The Vidiians take out Tuvok 2 and Paris 2 easily, and the Doctor 2 tries desperately to hide Naomi 2 after sickbay is breached. Kim 2 enters, does a cool stunt, and takes out the Vidiians. Explaining that their Voyager is doomed and that he’s going over to Voyager 1, the Doctor wastes no time mourning his demise and hands over Naomi 2, along with a message about her health for the Doctor 1.

Up on the bridge of Voyager 2, Janeway 2 has just enough time to icily welcome the Vidiians to the bridge before the ship blows up. Kim 2 just makes it through the spatial rift, emerging on Deck 15 of Voyager 1 in time.

With Voyager 2 and the Vidiians destroyed, Voyager 1 is hurt but alive. Luckily, there were no further fatalities and nothing was irreparably damaged. Chakotay comforts Janeway, who bemoans but acknowledges the necessity of the other Voyager’s demise. Samantha, for her part, is just happy to have her daughter back safe and sound. Kim is a little more confused about whether he’s the same Kim as the one they lost, and whether this is the same ship as the one he woke up on that morning. Janeway tells him that they’re Starfleet: weird is just part of the job.

Often, Star Trek is a morality play. A thoughtful and nuanced discussion of ethics and philosophy. Sometimes, it’s explosions and Kate Mulgrew with a face of blood and soot, daring the universe to say that to her face. People will often bemoan when Trek turns towards action, but when it’s done well it’s a treat to watch.

The decision to focus on the two Janeways is smart in both streamlining a potentially confusing story, but also letting Kate Mulgrew really strut her stuff. She’s on record as saying that this episode was very technically challenging for her, but also very rewarding.

The character of Janeway has gotten some guff over the years, as has Voyager the show, for not always being the most consistently written. Frankly, with a performance this good, I find it hard to care.

If this was your first Star Trek episode, would you get a good feel for the world, the characters, the inquisitive mind of Trek? No, but you’d have a hell of a good time. I can heartily recommend Deadlock.

If you've seen the episode before, or decide to give this one a try, please let me know somewhere here on our beloved hellsite.

So what’s next? Where will the Great Wheel of Trek take us? What strange new worlds await?

Ho boy, time to hit up Enterprise.

#star trek #voyager #star trek voyager #captain janeway #kate mulgrew #wanna try star trek #please share and interact!

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dustxechoes · 3 months

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"Two dead Vespers, coming up! Forged in ash, we stand as one!!" "Focus, Ziyi. Coming home alive...that's your special mission for today." "Yes, Uncle. I'll be careful." "And...try to avoid shouting those slogans so loudly. Encrypted comms won't do us any good if they can hear you all the way from your cockpit." "...Yes, Uncle." "Good. They're coming. Show them your fury, Little Sparrow."

Raven turned down the job, so he had to bring someone he could trust.

It tends to get lost in the shuffle when people talk about Flatwell between his time as a spy and his secret plans with Rusty, but the most important connection Ziyi is given by the narrative is with her 'Uncle', Middle Flatwell. Military Commander of the Rubicon Liberation Front.

As an infant, Ziyi was taken to Rubicon by her parents—who, tempted by the promise of riches from Coral mining, sought to make an illegal entry to the planet. Only Ziyi survived the crash landing. She came under the guardianship of Uncle Flatwell of the Rubicon Liberation Front, and the core of an AC was the young orphan's cradle as she grew up to become a Coral Warrior.

It's deeply fascinating to me that someone so deeply jaded and pragmatic as Flatwell, who criticizes the plucky heroic attitude of the rank and file RLF members and is even willing to sacrifice the lives of his subordinates and comrades to further his plans, is also the type of person who would find an orphaned baby from off-world and without reservation take her in and raise her as his own daughter.

But also I have. So many questions about that.

How involved was Flatwell in her upbringing?

Was AC piloting just a natural talent for her or has he been preparing her for it from a young age?

How did being a spy impact his ability to meet her emotionally?

If Flatwell is the one most critical of the rank and file RLF members for having been fighting occupation for so long that they are no longer actually picturing a future where they're free, mindlessly repeating slogans and fighting, why is his own daughter Ziyi the most...like that, of any of the named RLF pilots?

Was he too distant? Does she simply not understand the way he thinks? Or is this just more of Ziyi overcompensating for her perceiving herself as an 'outsider' that has to prove herself, regardless of what her comrades actually think?

It's obvious she doesn't know Rusty is a double agent, but how much else does he keep her in the dark about? Was this a pattern, or was this just one secret too important to entrust her with?

Is she expected to step up if something happens to him?

On the subject of Rusty, have they...talked about that? She knows they were close, but does she feel like she has a responsibility to ease his burden by bringing 'the traitor' home?

There's so much to their dynamic we just...don't know. In fact, to my knowledge neither of them directly mentions the other a single time in the entire game. But his spycraft, his master planning, directly gets Ziyi killed in the first playthrough. How does that impact him?

Ziyi has so much going on and is important to so many other characters but somehow manages to dodge everything important to the main plot and from the player's perspective is an optional encounter that takes about fifteen seconds to beat with you only finding out who she is afterward for a quick emotional gut punch, also the coolest thing she does is only alluded to in a single line of dialogue that was fucking cut, which makes me feel like I'm going insane because no one else talks about this shit.

but Arshile, Rokumonsen, Flatwell, Rusty, none of them have dialogue that changes if she's dead or not and I am eating my own organs wondering if they even know.

There is a mission where you can fight side-by-side with Flatwell having potentially killed his daughter and he doesn't have any different dialogue. Is he aware that Raven did that? Is he even aware she's gone? Or is he just so pragmatic that he's able to set all that aside for the sake of the plan?

#little ziyi #middle flatwell #armored core 6 #armored core vi #hello again main tags it's me with your daily dose #little starling || ziyi

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callsign-foreigner · 2 years

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Ares - Part 1

* I reserve all rights to this writing. Please do not take my writing as your own. I made this all myself. *

“This mission will be different, Ares.”

“I understand that, Sir.”

“No, I don’t believe you do. This mission is one of, if not, the most dangerous mission you will ever go on. There will be 11 other pilots there, all of those pilots will be trained everyday for 3 weeks.”

“Sir, I understand tha-“

“No, Lieutenant Weston. You will be in close quarters with them. You will have to trust them with your LIFE. They must know everything. One of those things being your identity.”

Samara froze as Admiral Lowery finished his sentence. She flexed her jaw angrily and spoke a bit louder. “We had an AGREEMENT, admiral”

“Yes, and that was until we found out about this mission. Unfortunately the Navy is unable to keep up their end of the bargain for your safety. You will report to training at 0600 tomorrow on North Island. Maverick has been informed of you and your….situation. He is quite honored to have you on his squadron. He’s sure having a pilot such as yourself on the squad will push everyone else to be better. “

Samara kept her lips in a straight line as she nodded to the Admiral. She had fought for many years to maintain her identity a secret. Why? Because she had a sort of double life. When she was in the sky, she was Ares. Smart, calculating, determined and absolutely fearless. A perfect product of the Navy. When she was back on the ground, she was just another, semi-alcoholic, sex crazed naval aviator. One who jumped the bones of plenty of random aviators wherever she wanted to. And she always wanted to.

She liked being nobody. She liked that she could get completely plastered and be a total wreck, and not one person would bat an eye. She liked that no one gave her pity eyes when they heard of her parents and their tragic accident, many years ago. She liked being nobody.

It seemed as though her time as nobody, had run out.

Admiral Lowery put a hand on her khaki covered shoulder. “Use this to your advantage. If this mission goes well for you, you will be one of the most highly decorated Lieutenants the Navy has ever seen. I’m sure this will open many doors for you in the future with the Navy. Maybe even Lieutenant Commander.” And with that he left the office.

She knew her invisible wall of protection would give way soon. At least she had one more night of freedom. She exited the office and went to gather her things and get on a plane to North Island.

——————————————————————-

Samara Weston had landed a few hours later, deciding to blow off some steam at The Hard Deck. A place she had been to quite a few times during her time at Top Gun, years ago. She knew no one would remember her. Even if they did, they’d never find her. she always gave them made up names. She was always running around with different guys. She didn’t have a boyfriend, no real family, so she found her happiness in one night stands, local bars and in her work.

The Navy was her sole purpose in life. When she had enlisted, she had decided that she would give the rest of her life to The Navy, just as her parents had. To carry on their legacy and make them proud, wherever they were.

Ares never stayed in one place too long, and if she ever came back to a place, there would always be fresh meat for her choose from.

She never really had to do much for men to fawn at her feet. They just did it. She liked having it easy. Being pretty had its perks.

She sat herself at the very far corner of the bar, away from the other patrons. She had noticed quite a few other pilots dressed the same khaki uniform she had on earlier in the day. She had decided to go for a more civilian look and wore jeans and a very worn out t-shirt from some band. Though she wasn’t dressed well, Ares knew how men reacted to her presence. She was a looker for sure. And did she know it.

As she sat alone, watch the cool glass of beer slowly sweat onto the bar top, she felt a body sit next to her.

She only smirked and sipped her beer as she knew she would now be entertained for a bit.

She turned to her left and found a tall, handsome, tan man staring at her. “Hi there”

Samara smiled at him sweetly. He seemed like a nice guy, nervous even. He smiled a bit wider before speaking. “Hi, I’m Javy. I go by Coyote.”

“I’m Jenni Davis. “

Coyote smiled as Samara offered her hand for a handshake. He shook her hand and looked back to the table he must’ve just came from.

Samara looked over his shoulder and saw a few aviators, watching Javy with smiles. Her eyes wandered to every one of them before they landed on one that was leaning against his pool stick, smirking arrogantly.

He was a legitimate walking, breathing, Ken Doll. His teeth were perfect, white and straight.

His hair as perfectly styled back and his uniform seemed absolutely crisp. No creases or wrinkles. He caught her eyes and winked at her while he chewed on his toothpick. Samara raised a brow at him and looked back at Javy. “I’m guessing your blonde friend over there sent you to come retrieve me.” Javy blushed a bit before responding. “Uhm-“ Samara giggled and put her hand on Javy’s shoulder. “No worries, Coyote. I’ll play his game. “ Samara got up from her stool, grabbed her things and sundered over to the bar top where the group sat. Ken Doll watched her every move as she got closer to them. She sat her stuff on an empty stool and walked over to him. “Hm. Not even man enough to come invite me over yourself. “ Everyone at the table snickered and laughed at Ken Doll’s face turned pink. He was about to speak when he was interrupted by a short, woman with jet black hair. “He likes people to do the work for him. He’s got minions”

Samara smiled at the woman. Her attitude and fire seemed like something Samara saw in herself. She liked it. Samara offered her hand. “Jenni Davis.”

Natasha smiled as she shook her hand. “Natasha Trace. Call sign Phoenix. “

Samara raised her eyebrows. “I’ve heard of you. You became an Ace not too long ago, am I correct?”

Natasha seemed surprised and nodded.

“Yes, I did. On my mission to Asia just 6 months ago.”

Samara nodded with respect. “Well congratulations are in order then. Good to see a woman accomplishing great things”

Santa smiled as she spoke to Natasha. Natasha returned it and offered Samara the seat next to her. As Samara sat down, Ken Doll snorted.

Everyone turned to him. “Is something funny there, Ken Doll?”

Samara liked how he looked, but his attitude and body language towards many of the group made her think that he was certainly the least liked one.

He snorted again before speaking. “You said it’s good to see a woman accomplishing great things. What about men? They accomplish great things everyday. Where’s their congratulations?”

Samara was getting irritated quite quickly. Was this man really throwing a pity party for his gender? All because she congratulated Phoenix on her latest award?

What a dick.

“Hm. It seems as though I’ve struck a cord with you….”

She squints her eyes at his tag on his chest.

…Seresin. May I ask, have you become an Ace recently? Have you shot down an enemy plane? Have you?”

The Ken Doll squinted his eyes at her tone and had a smirk on his lips. “No I haven’t but-“

“But nothing. I give recognition when it’s earned.”

Jake didn’t know how only moments ago this girl, or should he say woman, had suddenly escalated the conversation and was now angry at him. He definitely shouldn’t have tried to make his a conversation regarding gender, that was his mistake. But he had already dug his grave so he had to stick with it. He didn’t wanna seem like an idiot. Especially infront of this beautiful woman. Who now seemed irritated at him. Though he wanted to stop talking, his arrogance was getting the better of him and it was only gonna get a bit worse.

Samara turned around and looked around the table at the other aviators who looked at her when slacked jaws. It seemed as though no one had spoken back to this, Seresin.

“You must be a pilot. With all this formality you’re speaking. “ Samara shut her eyes and sighed. Well looks like Cat’s out of the Bag. She turned back to Seresin and nodded. “I am. “ He seemed to wait for her to give her call sign to him. Which she didn’t. “You just be on the mission, same as the rest of us.” She nodded again. He grew frustrated with her now lack of response. “Well? Ya gonna tell ya your call sign? Wanna see if you’re good. Which you’re probably not. Considering you don’t wanna give us your call sign. “

Seresin was smirking widely now. His Cheshire Cat grin which didn’t look too bad at first, was not angering Samara.

He was Cocky. Arrogant. Selfish.

She could tell. By not only his body language, but that of everyone else around him.

She already decided she didn’t like him.

He was an asshole who seemed to only care for himself. She didn’t want that on her squadron. That’s why she worked alone.

Until now. Samara remembered that no one knew that Ares, would be a part of their squadron. She would use this to her advantage. Seresin saying she must not be a good pilot, all because she wouldn’t show off her call sign, was childish. But she liked playing games. Especially with sore losers.

Samara put her fakest smile on. “You know what, you’re right. I’m not a good pilot. You caught me. I’ll see you all at training tomorrow.”

She had enough entertainment for one night, so she downed her beer, waved to the group, and walked to close out with the bartender.

As she passed Seresin, she checked his shoulder and locked eyes with him before finishing giving cash to the bartender and stepping out of the bar.

“What’s her name?”

Rooster replied to Jake “Told Phoenix her name was Jenni Davis. Never heard of her. “

Jake nodded as he stared at her as she got in her car, and sped off into the desert.

“- but she’s a part of this mission. So she’s gotta be a good at something.”

Jake looked to the group. “I bet she’s nothing but a decent WSO. “

_______________________

WHAT DO WE THINK OF PART 1 OF ARES?????? BE HONEST! I’ve written like 19 different ways I wanted part 1 to play how. I feel like them being enemies at first, is absolutely perfect. It’ll make the story like so much more chaotic (in a good way) and I can’t wait!!

TAGLIST:

@peaches-1999

@mirandastuckinthe80s

@justanothermagicalsara

@kkrenae

@harper1666

@callsignvenus

@misacc08

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@tooflef

#jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman top gun #top gun x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine

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all-the-things-2020 · 8 months

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Further Along the Way - Chapter Ten

Summary: Din makes a decision.

Rating: PG

“It’s a done deal,” Shandilon said smugly. “They’re going to call us up. My dad heard it from Senator Kilgore himself. The Parliament okayed it yesterday.”

Din let the cadets talk. With all the rumors swirling around campus recently, he’d found that letting the students gossip a bit before class started helped keep them focused once instruction actually began. He lost a few minutes of time each day, but better to have 45 minutes of kids paying attention than 60 minutes of them only half heeding his words.

“What will we be doing?” Limante asked. He was one of Shandilon’s buddies, always ready to back the other boy up.

Shandilon shrugged. “Probably something boring, to tell the truth. The plan is to use the military reserves to replace the troops that are being sent to the Danda sector, so we’ll just take over some dumb job like guarding an embassy building. The pilot cadets might get to escort a merchant ship through the inner trade routes, but that’s about as exciting as it’s going to get for us. Still, it’ll be better than sitting in a classroom being told what to do all day, right?”

Din called the class to order at that point and ran them through some hand to hand drills. X’intari was getting better, but he still held back too much, even though his physiology made him inherently stronger than the human cadets. Din looked forward to the day when the Bendaski was confident enough to just be himself. And on that day, Din was going to match him with Shandilon and enjoy watching X’intari wipe the floor with that little jerk’s ass.

The final bell rang and Din dismissed class. As he was gathering his things, a cadet popped in the door. “Mr. Djarin, sir, the Colonel would like to see you ASAP.”

“Thank you, Cadet,” Din said. He’d been expecting this. “I’ll be right there.”

Din walked to the admin building. There was already an air of urgency on campus; everyone seemed to be a bit more focused, a bit more hurried, a bit more on edge. He recognized the atmosphere of preparation before a battle. It felt familiar but at the same time, strangely foreign. This isn’t my life anymore, he reminded himself.

The Colonel greeted him solemnly and asked Din to take a seat.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, Mr. Djarin,” Braxden began. “The Republic has asked for our help in the Danda sector, and we have responded. To replace the troops that are joining the Republic forces, we are deploying our military reserves. This means I’m losing several key members of my staff, including Lieutenant Mondella.” He paused. “High Command has also asked that we pull out third and fourth year cadets and deploy them. Captain Woreg will be forming a squadron of flight cadets to assist in routine escort duties within our local system. And we will be deploying a squadron of ground officer cadets for guard duty somewhere in the local system, as well.”

“My students,” Din said.

“Yes, your students.” Braxden leaned forward. “I’d like you to lead them, Djarin. They know you and respect you. You’re a civilian, so this isn’t an order, you have every right to refuse, but I hope you’ll volunteer for duty.” He looked Din in the eye. “I’d feel much better sending them out with you in charge.”

Din held the Colonel’s eye contact as he said, “I’m afraid I must respectfully decline, sir.”

Braxden blinked. “Are you certain?” He wasn’t angry, but looked disappointed.

Din nodded. “As you said, I’m not a member of your military, and I have other obligations that require me to stay here.”

Braxden sighed. “Your wife’s due in a few months, isn’t she? Look, Djarin, we expect this to last a few weeks, a month at most. You’ll be back long before the baby comes. These kids need you.”

Din shook his head. “My family needs me. I made a promise not to leave them again. I had to do it once and I won’t put them through that again; won’t put myself through that again.” He sat up straight. “You can fire me if you like, but I won’t go.”

Braxden sat back in his chair. “I’m not going to fire you,” he said. “You are well within your rights to refuse. This means I’ll have to send Corporal Fennic with the squadron. He’ll start assisting you with the third and fourth year classes as of tomorrow, so he can get a feel for them before they’re deployed. It might be a few days, maybe even a week, before we know where they’ll be going and what they’ll be doing.”

“I’ll get him up to speed, Colonel,” Din promised. Fennic was a good officer and a natural instructor. It shouldn’t take him long to grasp the capabilities of the cadets he’d be commanding.

“I do wish you’d reconsider, Djarin,” the Colonel said wearily. “These kids … they’re still just kids, as much as they want to think they’re ready to take on the galaxy. I just want them safe.”

“So do I, sir,” Din said. “But I can’t … I’ll do everything I can to prepare them for what lies ahead, but that part of my life is over.”

He took his leave of the Colonel and made his way to Garrick’s office, where his friend was hunched over a data pad.

“Just talked to the Colonel,” Din said.

Garrick looked up. “What did you tell him?” He already looked haggard and Din felt a pang of empathy for the man. He wasn’t going to be babysitting a bunch of green cadets on a job within the local system. The reserves could be called anywhere the Thantosian military was currently operating; maybe suppressing the pirates harassing the Clovan system, or patrolling the Survanti asteroid belt for smugglers. Or even joining the regular forces in the Danda sector.

“I told him no,” Din said.

Garrick looked relieved. “Good,” he said, closing his eyes for just a moment. “I was hoping … you’ll look after Tress and the girls for me while I’m gone, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Din replied. “Anything they need, we’re just a comm away.”

Garrick buried his face in his hands. “I thought going into the reserves was the right move,” he said thickly. “Best of both worlds. Keep my military rank, keep earning points toward a cushy pension someday, but still be here for my family. But now … maybe I should have just resigned when my time was up.” He looked up at Din, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“You can’t second guess yourself, Garrick,” Din said. “Just move forward with what you have.”

Garrick smiled crookedly. “I know, I just … I feel bad for Tress and the girls. They didn’t choose this; I did.”

“Tress did choose this,” Din said. “She knew who you were and what you did when she married you. She chose to make a life with you, have a family with you.” He knew that the couple had met while Garrick was still on active duty. Tress had married a soldier.

“Thanks, buddy,” Garrick said. “I knew you’d understand.” He shook his head and gave a weak laugh. “Now, I’m going to go home and tell my family how much I love them. You should do the same.”

“I will,” said Din. As they stood, he pulled Garrick into a firm embrace. “K'oyacyi, my friend.”

“What does that mean?” Garrick asked.

“Hang in there,” Din replied. Stay alive was the more literal translation, but he wasn’t about to tell Garrick that.

******************************

Mariana could tell that something had happened the moment Din walked in the door. “They’re going?,” she asked.

“They’re going,” he replied. “Fennic will be going with the cadets in my place. And Garrick’s reserve squad has been called up as well.” He picked up Ad’ika, who as usual was tugging at his pant leg before he’d gotten two steps inside.

“Oh, poor Tress,” Mariana said. She’d had lunch with the other woman just yesterday and while Tress had tried to be upbeat, it was clear that she was worried. “And I was just asking her if she can watch Ad’ika while I meet with the midwife.” Tress’ cousin’s neighbor’s aunt was a very reputable midwife and had agreed to take Mariana on as a patient, which meant weekly appointments at the woman’s office. “Maybe I should just stick with the doctor at the clinic …”

“No, I think it would be a good distraction for her,” Din said, sitting on the couch. Mariana settled beside him. “And for the girls. A weekly play date would cheer them up immensely. Besides, the clinic relies too much on med droids … I’ll feel better if Valinda Knorros delivers the baby.”

Still with the droid thing, Mariana thought with a smile. Of course, she felt a lot better knowing she’d be in the hands of a woman who had three children of her own, as well as the experience of having delivered dozens more over the years, rather than a med droid. Droids were very capable (she still thought fondly of RN-42, who had informed her of her pregnancy back on Florian), but she doubted one would be very sympathetic to the pain of childbirth.

“How are your classes going?” Din asked.

“Well,” she replied. “I’m almost done with my paper for the Rhetoric class and we’ll get our scores on the Theoretical Physics of Hyperspace exam tomorrow. I just have to finish the reading for the Art History discussion, but that’s not due for a couple of days yet.” The hyperspace class was kicking her butt, as she had never been as strong in mathematics as she was in other areas, but she was very much enjoying the other two classes. Surprisingly, Ad’ika was very good about knowing when she needed to concentrate, and so far she’d been able to keep up with the workload.

“Think we can manage dinner at the Mondella’s one night this week?,” he asked.

Mariana thought over her upcoming deadlines. “Tomorrow would work,” she said. “Should I comm Tress or do you want to talk to Garrick in the morning?”

“Comm her,” Din said. “I have the feeling Garrick and I won’t have much time to chat before he’s deployed.” Mariana squeezed his hand. How many comrades has he said goodbye to and never seen again?, she wondered.

“I’ll call her right after dinner,” she said. “Speaking of which, why don’t you two get washed up while I set the table?”

When he and Ad’ika were behind the closed door of the ‘fresher, she allowed herself a moment to lose composure. Her heart was breaking at the thought of Garrick having to leave, at the thought of Tress and the girls being left behind, wondering every day if he was coming home. She’d been through that when Din had gone off after Moff Gideon, and they’d only been together a few months at that time. She couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it would be after being with someone for years.

She also felt selfish for being so thankful that Din wasn’t going. Why am I the lucky one? Why should Tress have to go through this and I don’t? The ‘fresher door opened and she wiped the tears off her face, bustling into the kitchen to get the plates. Din was probably feeling guilty enough about his decision without her blubbering all over the place making him feel worse. She smiled brightly at him as he and Ad’ika took their places at the table, but she could tell from the gentle smile on his face and the tired look in his eyes that she wasn’t fooling him one bit.

*************************

“What?” X’intari blurted out when Din told the class he would not be accompanying them when they were deployed. “Oh, sorry, sir, sorry, I just … I kind of assumed you’d be going with us.” The boy blushed dark green and several of the other cadets snickered.

“I can see why you might assume that, Cadet,” Din said evenly, shooting a look at the ones who were laughing. “But as you recall, I’m a civilian, and therefore Corporal Fennic will be your commanding officer.” He gestured at the young officer, who stood calmly in the corner, observing. “He’ll be assisting with your classes from here on out so he gets a chance to see you all in action, so to speak.”

Shandilon raised his hand. Din suppressed a groan and nodded at him. “Mr. Djarin, sir,” the boy said, looking pointedly at X’intari, who was still mortified at his outburst. “I can understand why you aren’t going, being just a civilian, after all … but why are we being placed under the command of a corporal? I’d have thought we’d have a proper officer in charge.”

“Fennic is a proper officer,” Din replied. “He’s my assistant instructor in the first and second year classes, and he earned his rank by coming up through the ranks. Just because he didn’t graduate from the Academy doesn’t mean he’s not a good officer.”

“But he’s a non-com,” Shandilon protested. Cadets who graduated from the Academy and were accepted into the military started at the commissioned rank of Lieutenant, and tended to look down on the Ensigns and Corporals who had worked their way up from Private.

“He’s still an officer,” Din said. “Hell, even a Private outranks you right now, Cadet.” That didn’t sit well with the boy, but Din was past caring. “Corporal Fennic knows what he's doing, and I trust him implicitly, and he will be in command of your squadron by order of the Colonel. End of discussion.”

“Yes, sir,” Shandilon muttered.

Din approached him and said quietly, “If I hear one word about you disrespecting him, Shandilon, I’ll flunk you, and you’ll never get that diploma.”

The boy’s eyes flared. “You wouldn’t dare. My father would have you fired so fast …”

“Do you think I care?” Din shot back. Shandilon closed his mouth and looked away. Din turned to the other cadets. “Do any of you think I care more about my paycheck than keeping you all safe?” They shook their heads. “That’s right, I don’t. And the best way for you to get through this is to listen to your commanding officer, to trust your commanding officer and to obey your commanding officer. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the cadets chorused.

“So if anyone gives Corporal Fennic any trouble, he or she will answer to me. And if that ends my career here at the Adademy, so be it.” He turned to Fennic. “Corporal, the class is yours.”

Fennic nodded and stepped forward. “Thank you, Mr. Djarin. Now …”

Din stepped back and let Fennic take control. He was still seething at Shandilon’s attitude but he forced himself to take a deep breath and relax. At least I won’t have to put up with the little shit for a while, he thought. But he would miss the others terribly.

***************************************************

Mando’a words:

K'oyacyi = 1. *Cheers!* 2. Can also mean: *Hang in there* or 3. *Come back safely.* Literally, a command; *Stay alive!*

#the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #pedro pascal character fanfiction #baby yoda #din djarin #din djarin x original female character #din djarin fanfiction

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pesterloglog · 10 months

Text

Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope, Dave Strider, Aradia Megido, Rose Lalonde, Kanaya Maryam, Sollux Captor

Act 6, page 4352-4365

KARKAT: I WAS JOKING, GET THOSE FUCKING THINGS AWAY FROM ME

TEREZI: 1 4M SO SORRY YOU GUYS

TEREZI: W3 4R3 4CTU4LLY 4 LOT COOL3R TH4N TH1S!

DAVE: are you actually

TEREZI: ...

TEREZI: NO

TEREZI: NO W3 AR3 NOT

KARKAT: WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW

KARKAT: SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON.

KARKAT: WHO'S THE LEADER NOW?

KARKAT: ARADIA ARE YOU THE LEADER NOW

KARKAT: OR IS IT ROSE "I HAVE AN IDEA, LET'S TAKE THE INVINCIBLE DEMON HEAD ON!" LALONDE.

KARKAT: I NEED TO KNOW WHO THE LEADER IS

KARKAT: I NEED TO KNOW IN WHOSE DIRECTION I MUST BEHAVE AS THE MOST PATHETICALLY USELESS SUBORDINATE I CAN BE.

KARKAT: QUICK, SOMEONE BOSS ME AROUND! I'M FUCKING INCOMPETENT AND RARING TO GO.

KARKAT: THAT'S WHAT YOU DO WHEN THERE'S A LEADER AROUND TRYING TO MAKE PLANS, RIGHT?

KARKAT: YOU DROP YOUR IQ HARDER THAN A PAIR OF HILARIOUSLY PLUMMETING PANTS, YOU CEASELESSLY RAMBLE ABOUT VAPID BULLSHIT, YOU RUN AROUND HIDING ALL OF YOUR WORLDLY POSSESSIONS IN TREASURE CHESTS, AND THEN EVERYONE STARTS MURDERING EACH OTHER.

KARKAT: IF THERE'S ANY OTHER EXPERIENCE CHARACTERIZING LEADERSHIP, IT'S ONE I SURE AS FUCK NEVER HAD!

KARKAT: SO I NEED TO KNOW WHO THE LEADER IS.

KARKAT: STRIDER, IS IT YOU???

TEREZI: 4444444UGH

ARADIA: karkat i dont know if anyone cares about formal ranks like that anymore

ARADIA: or if anyone ever did!

ARADIA: but for what its worth i suggest that from now on you all listen closely to the advice of our human guests

DAVE: wait

DAVE: really

ARADIA: yes!

ARADIA: no need to be so modest dave

ARADIA: tactically speaking a knight of time and a seer of light is a nearly unbeatable combination

DAVE: ok

DAVE: i dont really have any orders to give though

DAVE: except for karkat to shut the hell up because that horseshit is more obnoxious in person than i ever imagined

KARKAT: OH WOW, I WOULD OFFER A RETORT TO YOUR VICIOUS BARB, EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT UNLIKE EVERY ASSHOLE EVER, I CAN ACTUALLY FOLLOW ORDERS AND SHUT MY MOUTH!

KARKAT: CHECK IT OUT, "DOGG"

KARKAT: ......................................

ARADIA: yes you are off to an excellent start as a subordinate

ARADIA: keep doing that!

ARADIA: but dave dont worry if you do not have instructions for us

ARADIA: the knight of time is not necessarily the tactician

ARADIA: he is a powerful warrior class which exploits the flow of time as a weapon

ARADIA: rose is the one who must play the role of the strategist

ARADIA: the seer class knows her aspect comprehensively

ARADIA: as a knower of all fortune she can see the circuitous path that will lead to the most favorable outcome for everyone

ARADIA: personally i would defer to her judgment!

TEREZI: R34LLY? YOU C4N DO TH4T??

ROSE: Yes.

TEREZI: TH4T SOUNDS 4 LOT MOR3 US3FUL TH4N MY S33R POW3RS >:[

ROSE: Illumination of the road to victory for all is an asset considerably different from command over the outcomes of decisions made by individuals.

ROSE: How do you know your talents won't be critical in blazing this auspicious trail?

TEREZI: UM

TEREZI: 1 GU3SS 1 DONT

ROSE: That's because you're not me.

KANAYA: Okay Then What Do We Do

ROSE: Nothing yet.

ROSE: But reasonably soon, within a certain window, it will be time to leave.

ROSE: We will then pilot this meteor as fast as we can make it go in that exact direction.

SOLLUX: what's that way?

ROSE: Nothing whatsoever.

ROSE: As of now, that way lies darkness and uncertainty beyond description.

KANAYA: I See

KANAYA: Then Perhaps We Should Reserve The Infinite Darkness Plan For The Maybe Column For Now

KANAYA: I Think Im Even Willing To Let Dave Take A Crack At The Logistics Before We Commit To That Particular Maneuver Daring Though It Sounds

DAVE: aw yeah

DAVE: i got sicknasty logistics up my sleeve

DAVE: i just call them stics fyi which is how you know im way savvy about them

DAVE: most of the stics im fine tuning atm involve rap though i should warn you

DAVE: but dave what if that dope as hell plan falls through i can hear you ask

DAVE: plan b

DAVE: involves drawing some shitty cartoons

DAVE: and not giving a fuck about stuff

TEREZI: >8D

TEREZI: 1 H3R3BY S3COND TH1S COOL DUD3S R4D1C4L MOT1ON ON GROUNDS OF R1D1CULOUSLY D3C4D3NT 4TT1R3

KANAYA: Yes Im Willing To Humor Elaboration On This Rap Centric Plan And Its Apathy Based Contingencies

KANAYA: Even If Its Excessively Stupid

ROSE: Trust me, it is.

ROSE: Just as you should trust me that by the time we leave, if we leave exactly within the designated window and are able to travel at nearly the speed of light, the meteor will trace a route through the Furthest Ring which will topologically resolve as a straight line.

ROSE: It will lead us directly to the new session.

ROSE: For a brief moment, the sun will be visible from that session.

ROSE: And we will be riding the chartreuse coattails of its photons.

ARADIA: this is why you all needed an advanced seer!

ARADIA: i have become familiar with the ways of the fabric out here but even i couldnt chart a journey that long or complex

ROSE: That's because it's almost impossible to do so voluntarily.

ROSE: If we were to head right now in the session's true physical direction, it wouldn't be long before we found ourselves traveling in just the opposite direction.

ROSE: This is not even to speak of the chronological peculiarities. After traveling some distance, we could discover we were suddenly tailgating our own meteor from several days ago.

ROSE: If we are particularly unfortunate, we might even collide in an intersection of spacetime with a meteor piloted by our future selves.

ROSE: And if we looked closely at that meteor before impact, we might notice a very large dent in it, which it originally suffered during the very collision we were about to experience.

ROSE: It takes precision and timing to reach your destination out here, and most importantly, the grace of the gods themselves.

KARKAT: PPPFFUUUUUUUHHHHHHH......... WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE...

ROSE: Hm?

SOLLUX: kk, what the fuck?

SOLLUX: were you h0lding your breath that wh0le time?

KARKAT: YEAH

KARKAT: SO?

TEREZI: OH GOD, YOU DUMMY

TEREZI: YOU DONT 4CTU4LLY H4V3 TO HOLD YOUR BR34TH WH3N YOUR3 B31NG QU13T!

KARKAT: OK YEAH

KARKAT: I MEAN, OF COURSE IT SOUNDS OBVIOUS WHEN YOU PUT IT LIKE THAT

DAVE: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

DAVE: rose i told you this dude is fucking incredible

KARKAT: STFU.

KARKAT: LOOK I'M JUST A LITTLE OUT OF PRACTICE AT STAYING QUIET FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME, OK?

TEREZI: H3 R34LLY 1S >:|

KARKAT: ANYWAY, WHATEVER, SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING LALONDE IS

KARKAT: WE'RE GOING TO BE ON THIS HORRIBLE ROCK A GOOD WHILE LONGER TO GET TO THIS PARADISE SESSION OR WHATEVER IT IS?

ROSE: Yes.

KARKAT: AND SINCE WE PROBABLY AREN'T GOING TO FORCE SOLLUX'S BULLSHIT "HALF GHOST" OR WHATEVER TO POP HIMSELF AGAIN LIKE A PACKET OF NASTY FETID MUSTARD SO HE CAN SHOOT THIS THING INTO HYPERSPACE...

SOLLUX: hey man, come 0n. not c0ol.

KARKAT: I'M GUESSING THAT MEANS IT'LL TAKE CONSIDERABLY LONGER TO GET THERE THAN IT DID TO GET HERE?

ROSE: Yes.

KARKAT: I JUST KNEW IT

KARKAT: THIS IS MY WORST NIGHTMARE REALIZED

KARKAT: WHEN WE FIRST FLED TO THIS METEOR I HAD THIS WEIRD FEELING WE'D WIND UP SPENDING FOREVER AT THIS MISERABLE PLACE, ASSUMING WE ACTUALLY SURVIVED.

KARKAT: I'M ALMOST AFRAID TO ASK, HOW LONG IS THIS TRIP GOING TO TAKE?

KARKAT: PROBABLY SOME ABSOLUTELY PREPOSTEROUS AMOUNT OF TIME, LIKE THREE LONG MADDENING SWEEPS, RIGHT???

KARKAT: WOULDN'T THAT JUST BE SO COSMICALLY CONVENIENT AND PERFECT FOR EVERYBODY! ESPECIALLY FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT PURPOSE OF ALL, MY UNINTERRUPTED CONTINUUM OF PERSONAL AGONY!!!

KARKAT: THANK YOU, DARK GODS! THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!!! YOU WIN THIS ROUND! YOU WIN ALL THE ROUNDS APPARENTLY!!!!! THERE ARE NO ROUNDS EVEN. THERE'S JUST YOUR SLIMY TENDRILS, OUR NAKED BODIES, AND EPOCHS OF MOLESTATION.

ROSE: Don't be ridiculous. It won't take nearly that long.

KARKAT: OH

ROSE: It'll only take about three years.

KARKAT: OK

KARKAT: THAT'S NOT SO BAD I GUESS.

KARKAT: WAIT, HOW LONG ARE YEARS SUPPOSED TO BE AGAIN?

KARKAT: WAS IT LIKE TWO WEEKS OR SOMETHING?

ROSE: Yes, two.

ROSE: And then fifty more.

KARKAT: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

ARADIA: karkat go back to holding your breath!

ARADIA: this is going to be a wonderful adventure for everyone

ARADIA: im a bit jealous honestly!

ARADIA: or i would be if i wasnt having such a good time with my death fangirl thing :p

KANAYA: So

KANAYA: You Arent Coming Then

ARADIA: no

ARADIA: i still have important work to do here

TEREZI: 4WW >:[

ARADIA: but that doesnt rule out the possibility we could meet again in bubbles along your journey!

TEREZI: 1 HOP3 SO

SOLLUX: yeah, i think i'll hang behind here t0o, if that's 0k with you guys.

KARKAT: WAIT, WHAT?

KARKAT: NO COME ON, DON'T BE LIKE THAT

SOLLUX: be like what? a ghost??

SOLLUX: i d0n't think i belong with the living anym0re.

KARKAT: YOU'RE A *HALF* GHOST, ASSHOLE.

KARKAT: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? HOW ARE YOU EVEN TAKING THIS IDIOTIC "HALF DEATH" SERIOUSLY IF YOU JUST GO HOG WILD AS A FUCKING WHOLE-GHOST, AND SAY STUPID SHIT LIKE, BLAH BLAH, I BELONG IN THE AFTERLIFE NOW LIKE A DUMBASS.

SOLLUX: kk, SORRY.

SOLLUX: i'm just d0ne with this crap, this insane adventure bullshit, it's nothing pers0nal.

SOLLUX: i just want to spend time with aa and chill 0ut and catch up with some 0f our dead buddies, is that 0k?

KARKAT: WHATEVER, FINE.

KARKAT: I'M GOING BACK TO NOT BREATHING AGAIN.

KARKAT: HHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUP.............

KANAYA: Maybe I Will Stay Here Too

ROSE: Why?

KANAYA: As Nice As It Sounds To Move On

KANAYA: I Dont Know If I Can Stand Three Of Your Human Years Of More Darkness

KANAYA: I Like This Sun Its Comforting In A Strange Way

KANAYA: Like Home

ROSE: But what if we need your help?

KANAYA: What Could I Possibly Do

KANAYA: Aside From Providing A Light Source As You Navigate The Dim Corridors

KANAYA: I Would Function As A Premium Escort To The Load Gaper And Thats About It

ARADIA: but kanaya you still have important work to finish too!

ARADIA: we cant ignore our duties

KANAYA: What Are You Talking About

ARADIA: our race is extinct remember

ARADIA: and after a few more casualties it is now hanging by a thread

ARADIA: your job was to see to the resurrection of our people

KANAYA: What Real Hope Is There For That

KANAYA: The Orb Was Destroyed

KANAYA: I Was Never Able To Duplicate It The Grist Cost Was Astronomical

ARADIA: theres always hope though!

ARADIA: you just never know and i dont think you should give up

KANAYA: Doesnt Rose Know

KANAYA: Cant You See The Path To Victory On This Matter

ROSE: It's hard to say.

ROSE: Does the repopulation of your species qualify as victory?

ROSE: These things aren't always clear cut. Some outcomes are for your own judgment.

ROSE: What outcome would you like the most?

KANAYA: I Would Like To Have The Orb Again And To Keep It Safe This Time

KANAYA: And I Guess To Not Be A Total Failure

ROSE: Ok.

ROSE: If you follow my advice, I can at least promise you will find yourself in the best position to determine whether that may come to pass.

KANAYA: ...

ROSE: Can you please come?

ROSE: Between the two of us, you with your inexplicably heretofore unmentioned phosphorescence, and I with my nigh-reflective traffic cone orange sun-sari, the meteor should never be too dark.

KARKAT: (sollux, oh my god is it me or is everybody already just fucking hitting on each other left and right? oh god i can't take sweeps of this shit, don't leave me alone here, please don't)

SOLLUX: ehehehehe.

KANAYA: Well

KANAYA: All Right

KANAYA: But Must We Really Leave So Soon

ROSE: It's soon or never. But not immediately.

ROSE: Even if the route were accessible right now, it would still behoove us to wait.

ROSE: There's correspondence from John yet to arrive.

DAVE: whoa really

ROSE: And after that, we have to wait for one final guest to appear.

ROSE: Then we ride like the solar wind. The race will be afoot.

KANAYA: Wait Another Visitor

KANAYA: Who

KARKAT: FUCK!

ROSE: Oh lord.

ROSE: Now what?

KARKAT: BRO, WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR BODY

KARKAT: SOLLUX, WHERE DID YOUR BODY GO???

SOLLUX: hell if i kn0w.

ARADIA: oh nooo :(

KARKAT: WAIT A MINUTE.

KARKAT: WAIT JUST A FUCKING MINUTE, WHERE'S...

KARKAT: SHIT

KARKAT: VRISKA'S BODY IS GONE TOO!

DAVE: wait

DAVE: shes dead too

TEREZI: 3R...

DAVE: you guys are so messed up

KARKAT: WHERE ARE THEY?

KARKAT: DID ANYONE SEE WHAT HAPPENED??

KARKAT: DAMMIT, WHEN THE FUCK WILL I LEARN NOT TO TURN MY BACK ON THE BODIES.

KARKAT: HOLD ON

KARKAT: OH NO, WHERE'S GAMZEE

KANAYA: He Took Them

KANAYA: Look At The Trails

KARKAT: OHHHH FUCK

KARKAT: NO, FUCK NO, FUCK THAT CORPSE HOARDING SACK OF HORRIBLE GARBAGE.

DAVE: wait has the juggalo troll been giving you guys fits like this or something

DAVE: like this is a thing

DAVE: like a pattern

KARKAT: NICE GUESS SHIT HEAD!

DAVE: oh man one of you has got to sit me down and tell me what actually happened here it all just sounds fuckin amazing in sort of the stupidest way possible

DAVE: i mean like personal tragedies notwithstanding

KARKAT: YEAH, HE DOES THIS

KARKAT: HE SORT OF COLLECTS BODIES AND DECAPITATES THEM AND STUFF

KARKAT: STICKS THEM IN BIG SCIENCE JARS, FOR SOME REASON??

KANAYA: Im Pretty Sure He Kisses Them Too Sometimes

KARKAT: NO NO NO I'M NOT LISTENING TO SHIT LIKE THAT, I DIDN'T EVEN HEAR THAT.

KARKAT: IT'S LIKE

KARKAT: YOU KNOW HOW EVERY NOW AND THEN YOUR LUSUS WILL BRING SOME RANDOM ASS DEAD ANIMAL BACK TO YOUR HIVE FOR NO FUCKING REASON

KARKAT: AND THEY DON'T EVER STOP DOING THAT NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU YELL

KARKAT: IT'S LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN

DAVE: not really

DAVE: oh wait

DAVE: against all odds i sorta do

DAVE: mine actually did do that once

KARKAT: YES, THERE YOU GO.

DAVE: when i was really young

DAVE: he made this stupid leather bib for me out of a goddamn horse

DAVE: for the ironies obviously

ROSE: Was that the one you mentioned had a pink heart on it?

DAVE: yeah

ROSE: Hmm.

DAVE: what

ROSE: It's just that with the clarity afforded by my new abilities, it occurred to me just now that dead horse was likely the beautiful pet pony my mother gave me recently.

ROSE: It was crushed to death by your newborn ass.

ROSE: You bastard.

DAVE: well shit

DAVE: thats a hell of a mystery no one thought was a mystery and didnt even really need solving

DAVE: but damn if it didnt just get solved so nice work

ROSE: Thanks.

KARKAT: KANAYA WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

KANAYA: Clown Hunting

KARKAT: OH NO...

KARKAT: ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THAT?

KARKAT: I MEAN WHO EVEN REALLY CARES IF HE STOLE MORE BODIES.

KARKAT: HE CAN HAVE THEM FRANKLY, AS LONG AS IT KEEPS HIM OUT OF TROUBLE.

KARKAT: WE DON'T NEED TO HAVE A FUCKING CORPSE PARTY, SERIOUSLY, FUCK THAT DUMB IDEA.

KANAYA: ...

KARKAT: ALRIGHT IF YOU'RE REALLY GOING TO GO

KARKAT: JUST

KARKAT: BE CAREFUL

KARKAT: NO MORE POINTLESS BLOODSHED, OK? THAT'S AN ORDER!

KARKAT: WAIT FUCK

KARKAT: I'M NOT LEADER ANYMORE

KARKAT: ROSE CAN YOU ORDER HER TO DO THAT?

KARKAT: SAY WHAT I JUST SAID, REALLY ANGRILY

KARKAT: ASSUMING YOU CAN EVEN *BE* ANGRY.

ROSE: ...

KARKAT: WAIT

KARKAT: GUYS SOMETHING'S HAPPENING...

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON NOW???

KARKAT: HOLY

KARKAT: FUCKING

KARKAT: SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

KARKAT: HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

KARKAT: IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

KARKAT: IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.

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allthingsfangirl101 · 10 months

Text

Top Gun - Baby Mav Chapter 2: Introductions and Bets

Masterlist

That didn't go well.

Maverick sighed as he read Ice's text. He quickly sent one back.

The kid's not ready for this mission.

Ice didn't hesitate to text back.

No one is.That's why you're here.

You could have warned me.

Would you have come?

Maverick thought about his response. He struggled to think of one but came up with nothing. He tossed his phone onto his bed and lay down. His mind instantly went Rooster and Goose. It then drifted toward the last time he taught at TOPGUN and the F-18-20 flight that killed four pilots, leaving one alive.

Barely.

Nothing he did caused the accident. But nothing he did saved the pilot. They did that all on their own.

It's been over five years since he talked to Rooster. He talks to the pilot from the F-18-20 flight every day. It was easier to talk to that pilot.

Forcing himself to stop thinking about the past, he got up and went to his desk. He looked through the file the admirals gave him. As he read through the semantics and what the other admirals had started to plan, he formed a better one.

It wasn't going to be easy, but it was going to work.

* * * * *

"Attention on deck!"

Chairs scraped as the twelve trainees stood up. The two admirals walked into the room and stood in front of them. Bates and Hondo shared an uncomfortable glance.

"Morning," Bates said. "Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated."

The trainees listened and took their seats. "I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You're all TOPGUN graduates. The elite. The best of the best. That was yesterday. The enemy's new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technical advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box. Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve. Your inspector is a TOPGUN graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master."

Maverick shook off his nerves as he walked into the hangar. He approached from behind so the trainees didn't see him until he walked past them.

"His exploits are legendary," Bates continued. "And he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick."

Maverick walked up to the podium and faced the trainees. He forced himself not to look at Rooster.

"Good morning," he greeted. He looked at two of the trainees he met at the bar the other night and smirked. He couldn't fight it anymore and looked at Rooster. He was glaring right through him. Maverick cleared his throat when Rooster looked away.

He lifted the training manual in his hand and said, "The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

"Damn right."

"Damn straight."

"You got it."

He smirked at the confusion on the trainees' faces and the regret on the admirals' faces as he dropped the manual into the trash.

"So does your enemy," he said simply.

"And we're off," Hondo mumbled.

"But what the enemy doesn't know," Maverick continued, "is your limits. I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. Today we'll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you're made of."

* * * * *

Maverick walked behind the trainees as they went to their planes. He couldn't take his eyes off of Rooster. Before he could stop himself, he called out to him.

"Rooster." He didn't answer.

"Bradley." He still didn't answer.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

Rooster finally stopped walking and turned around. "Yes, sir."

"Let's not do it like this," Maverick sighed.

"You gonna wash me out?" Rooster challenged.

"That'll be up to you, not me."

Rooster didn't say anything. Both of them could feel the eyes of the other trainees on them but neither one of them cared.

He took a slow breath before asking a question that felt like a punch in Maverick's gut.

"Am I dismissed?"

"Bradley. . ." Maverick started but stopped himself. "Yes, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You're dismissed."

The two walked away from each other and went to their planes. One by one, they took off after Maverick's lead.

"Good morning, aviators," he said once they reached the right elevation. "This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighter maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team, you have to shoot me down, or else."

"Or else what, sir?" Payback asked.

"Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose."

Hangman, Phoenix, Bob, and the other trainees were back at base, listening to this. Phoenix and Bob laughed while Hangman got annoyed.

"This guy needs an ego check," he mumbled.

"We'll see to that," someone Hangman didn't know laughed.

"What say we put some skin in the game?" Payback challenged.

"What did you have in mind?" Maverick asked, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Whoever gets shot down first has to do 200 push-ups."

"Guys," Maverick sighed, pretending to sound bothered, "that's a lot of push-ups."

"They don't call it an exercise for nothing, sir," Fanboy laughed.

This was going to be too easy, Maverick thought.

"You got yourself a deal, gentlemen," Maverick said, closing his visor. "Fight's on. Let's turn and burn."

And just like that, Maverick disappeared.

"Fanboy, you see him?" Rooster asked.

"Nothing on radar up ahead," he replied. "He must be somewhere behind us."

Maverick surprised them by flying upright between their planes. He smirked when they let out surprised yells.

"Damn it!"

"What the hell?"

After a few more maneuvers, Maverick sighed. "Easy, Maverick. Let's try not to get fired on the first day.

"Tally, tally, tally! Maverick's coming in! Break left!"

"Breaking left."

"Payback, where's your wingman?" Maverick teased.

"Rooster, where are you?"

"I got your back. I'm coming. Hang in there. Hang in there."

"Hurry up, man! Hurry up!"

"Payback, break right."

"Breaking right."

While they were trying to set up, Maverick was already in place. "Rooster just saved your life, fellas. But it's gonna cost him."

"Not this time, old man."

"Don't let him get to you, Maverick," he told himself.

"Rooster, you're too low! Pull up! You're hitting the hard deck!"

"Altitude. Altidute." The automatic voice in Rooster's plane warned him.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled.

As Rooster pulled up, Maverick was there.

"That's a kill."

When they got back to base, Rooster did the 200 push-ups while Fanboy and Payback walked inside. They watched from the window, guilt eating at them.

"That should be us down there," Fanboy sighed.

"But it's not," Phoneix said. She laughed before adding, "And now you know a little something about Rooster."

Some of the other guys joked and took a picture with Rooster. But of course, Maverick shot them down. He shot down all of them.

"Say, Phoneix," Hangman sighed. "How's about we tell everybody "Bob" stands for something? Other than Robert, I mean."

"Don't take the bait, Bob," Phoenix sighed. "Want to know why we call him Hangman?"

"I got it," Hangman chuckled. "Baby on Board."

Maverick flew right through them before Phonix explained Hangman's name, cutting them all off.

"Greetings, aviators. Fight's on."

"All right, Phoenix, let's take this guy out!"

"Watch your back, Phoenix," Rooster mumbled as he listened from the base.

"Break right!" Hangman yelled.

"Breaking right."

Hangman didn't break right.

"Where's he going?!" Bob yelled.

"That's why we call him Hangman," Phoenix sighed. "He'll always hang you out to dry."

"Leaving your wingman," Maverick sighed. "There's a strategy I haven't seen in a while."

"He called you a man, Phoenix. You gonna take that?" Hangman laughed.

"So long as he doesn't call you a man," she instantly replied. "Talk to me, Bob. Where's Maverick?"

"His nose is already coming around!" Bob gasped.

"Get him off me, Hangman!" Phoenix yelled.

"For all you folks at home, this is how you bury a fossil," Hangman gloated.

"All right, Hangman," Maverick sighed, having heard enough. "Time to teach you a lesson. But first, you're out, Phoenix."

"Son of a bitch!"

He left her and instantly went after Hangman. He was mildly impressed by Hangman's talents but he knew Hangman's ego would get in the way long before he had the chance to use his talents.

It didn't matter how good Hangman was. Maverick was better.

He pulled back, instantly flying straight into the sun.

"Shit," Hangman swore. "Phoenix, I can't see him. How close am I?"

"I'm dead, dickhead."

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman," Bob added.

"Where is he? Where is he?"

Alarm.

"That's a kill."

Training went on like that. For several days. Maverick flew with each of the twelve trainees and shot every one of them down. A couple of days later, Maverick was flying against Hangman and Rooster.

"So, Rooster," Hangman asked once they reached elevation, "mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Would it matter if I did?" Rooster sighed.

"What's the story with you and Maverick? It seems like he's got you rattled."

"That's none of your business," Rooster said instantly. "Besides, it doesn't really have anything to do with him." He cleared his throat and asked, "Now where the hell is he?"

Maverick appeared below them. "Been here the whole time."

Maverick flew around, hovering over them upside down.

"Holy shit," Hangman mumbled.

"You see me now?" Maverick asked, hovering over Rooster. "Come on, let's get it over with."

"Fight's on!" Rooster yelled.

"What is it with these two?" Hangman sighed as Maverick and Rooster circled each other while flying straight down.

"All right, you put us here. How you gonna get yourself out?" Maverick asked.

"You can bail out anytime," Rooster snapped.

"How low you want to go, Rooster?"

"I can go as low as you, sir! And that's saying something compared to you know who."

"Can't even say their call sign, can you?" Maverick challenged. His heart sank when he thought about what she would do if she knew what was going on. "What's past is past," Maverick sighed. "For all of us."

"You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you?"

"Hard deck is 5,000 feet, fellas," Hangman said. "You are running out of room."

"Altitude," Rooster's automatic voice warned him.

"Your strategy is about to run us into the ground," Maverick said. "What's your move?"

"Altitude. Altitude. Altitude. Altitude. Altitude." The voice continued to repeat before changing to "Pull up!"

The two had no choice but to pull up. Once they saved themselves, Rooster tried to get behind Maverick.

"You got it," Rooster talked to himself. "Don't think, just do."

"Come on, Rooster, you got him!" Hangman said. "Drop down and take the shot!"

"It's too low," Rooster stuttered.

When Rooster still hadn't taken the shot, Maverick knew what he had to do. "Too late," he said. "You had your chance." He pulled up, instantly getting into position. "That's a kill. Knock it off."

"Damn it!" Rooster yelled.

"Same old Rooster," Hangman chuckled. Maverick flew up next to Rooster and sighed when he saw how defeated the boy looked.

"Go see Hondo about your push-ups."

* * * * *

When Rooster got back, Hondo monitored his push-ups. Lost in angry thought, Rooster did more than 200 push-ups. When Hondo tried to get him to stop and he refused, he walked away. Finally giving up, Rooster sat down. He pulled his knees up to his chest and sighed.

"Break the hard deck, insubordination. Are you trying to get kicked out?" Phoenix asked as she walked over to him.

"Don't worry about it."

"Look," she sighed as she squatted in front of him, "I'm going on this mission. But if you get kicked out, you leave us flying with Hangman. Talk to me. What the hell was that?"

"It's complicated," Rooster snapped at her. "And it has nothing to do with you or Bob or Hangman. Just me, Maverick, and. . ."

He couldn't say the last person's name.

Phoenix had heard rumors but it wasn't until now that it was clear. "Did Maverick pull your application to the Naval Academy?"

"No," he sighed. "Someone else did. But it set me back four years."

"Then why are you taking it out on him?"

Rooster looked up at her, unable to tell her the truth. "He knew," he admitted. "He knew who did it and why."

"Let me guess, you don't know who did it and why."

"Oh, I know who," Rooster scoffed. "What I don't know is why they did it to me."

* * * * *

While Rooster was getting interviewed by Phoenix, Maverick was getting his ass chewed out by the admirals.

"The hard deck is 5,000 feet above ground level," Simpson scoffed. "A parameter is set not just for the safety of our pilots, but for the safety of their aircraft. 5,000 feet is not just a rule. It is a law, as immutable as gravity."

"The hard deck will be much lower for the mission, sir," Maverick said.

"And it will not change without my approval!" Simpson yelled. "Especially not in the middle of an exercise. And that Cobra maneuver of yours? That could've got all three of you killed. I never want to see that shit again."

"What exactly do you suppose you were teaching, Captain?" Bates asked.

"That as good as they are, sir, they still have something to learn," Maverick answered instantly.

"You are talking about the best fighter pilots on the planet, Captain," Simpson snapped again.

"And they've been told that their entire career, while they've been dropping bombs from high altitude with little to no dogfighting. The parameters of this mission call for something they have never encountered."

"Okay," Simpson cut him off, "you have less than three weeks to teach them how to fight as a team and how to strike the target."

"And how to come home," Maverick added. The two admirals were silent. Simpson sat back in his chair, studying Maverick.

"Every mission has its risk. These pilots accept that."

"I don't, sir."

Simpson couldn't take Maverick's attitude anymore. "Every morning, from this day forward, you will brief us on your instructional plans in writing. And nothing will change without my express approval."

"Including the hard deck, sir?"

"Especially the hard deck, Captain."

Maverick instantly stepped forward and placed a folder on Simpson's desk.

"What's this?"

"It's a request to lower the hard deck, sir, to practice a low-level bombing run per the mission parameters."

#Baby Mav #Top Gun #Maverick #Miles Teller #Rooster #original content #Top Gun Baby Mav

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academy13 · 2 years

Text

My brain is a very interesting place, so within like 24 hours of hearing about JDF’s death, I kinda started building this Power Rangers Star Wars AU. It exists mostly in my head at this point, but its Rebellion Era and inspired at various points by Rebels, Rouge One, and the original trilogy.

The original team, meaning Trini, Jason, Zack, Kim, and Billy are a Rebel cell. I don’t know their specific backgrounds yet, but I am leaning towards Trini having the most specific knowledge of the Jedi of the group because someone in her family was Force Sensitive. I’m thinking one of them may be Mandolorian, but again I don’t know at this point.

Alpha is a droid, I’m not sure of all the droid types in Star Wars, but definitely one that is basically humanoid in shape. Maybe he’s a modified protocol droid or something... I don’t know at this point. But he’s still Alpha, just in a Star Wars appropriate droid.

Zordon is one of the leaders of the rebellion, initially he’s just in charge of several cells, but when the Rebellion actually comes together into the form we’re more familiar with, he’s very high up in the command structure without actually being the leader (I’m being flexible about it because then it allows several other mentor figures to be in command positions from his era of Power Rangers. Later shows will take place in later parts of the Star Wars timeline... but for now I’m worrying about before the Battle of Yavin and after the Battle of Yavin through roughly Return of the Jedi).

Kat is an Imperial who defects, somewhat in the vein of Wedge Antilles and Alexsandr Kallus. I don’t know the details yet, but its very much Kim and Tommy who wind up being the reason she defects and is pulled out of wherever it is the Empire it is has her stationed.

Tommy I know is also a defector (half of why he’s able to help Kat defect is because he did so first, and thus understands some of her reservations), and I think may wind up being Mandolorian but without knowing he’s Mandolorian (I’m leaning towards he was born on Mandolore, but at some point during the Empire’s occupation he was taken and grew up without the cultural knowledge of this. Yes this is me specifically referencing the Native American’s forced cultural assimilation), so at some point when he learns he’s Mandolorian and Kim explains what the Dark Saber means to Mando’s (I don’t know if she herself is mandolorian, but she’s definitely going to be my info dump about the Dark Saber’s history), he’s going to find his brother and damn well learn about his culture and family history.

Aisha, Adam, and Rocky are another, smaller, Rebel cell and they eventually cross paths with the other five and eventually, along with Tommy and Kat, the whole group forms a larger cell and eventually a squadron.

I know that Kat and Kim are pilots, that just makes sense to me given that at one point they functionally share a zord. They’re just better at different types of flying, and Kat is particularly good at picking apart Imperial pilots as she understands how they were trained and the nuances of Imperial ships. Not unrelated, Tommy understands Stormtrooper tactics better than any one because he went through that training and was even in command of some stormtroopers before he defected. Between him and Jason, ground troops do not stand a chance, just like between Kim and Kat the rebellion rules the skies. I’m not completely sure where everyone else fits, but I know they’re all very good at what they do and when Tanya comes on board it does not take her long at all to fit in.

Also, ain’t nobody got time for stupid ass love triangles and Tommy has two hands.

0 notes

heliads · 3 years

Text

Lieutenant Lovesick

Y/N L/N is an officer of the datatech division at the Resistance Base, someone who has an unfortunate tendency to crush on the rebels’ favorite flyboy. Poe Dameron needs someone to help him decode new intel, so of course he looks to her.

masterlist

The ship is starting to touch down now. If you look closely, you can just see the dark crop of hair on the pilot, catch a glimpse of a fierce grin through the windscreen. Already, mechanics and nav crew members are rushing towards the X-Wing, trying to see if Poe Dameron has managed to finally screw up one space mission and give them something to fix on his ship. You doubt they’ll be that fortunate- Poe’s one of the best pilots. That’s just how it works, even if it means the mechanics have a lot less to do.

Poe stands up, climbing down the side of his X-Wing and checking to make sure his BB unit is being pulled out as well. He exchanges a few words with an overeager intel agent already pressing him for news on the latest mission, then starts heading through the crowd in the hangar bay. You hesitate for one second more, two, then turn away and start heading down the corridors of the Resistance base.

If you’re lucky, you have just left yourself enough time to get back to your station before anyone notices that you've stepped away. However, it does not appear that the galaxy is on your side today. Tela, your best friend, reaches out an arm in front of the door just as you attempt to head back into the room with your fellow officers. She raises an eyebrow at you. “Gawking at Dameron again?”

Your cheeks flame as you hurriedly glance around the corridor, making sure no one can hear you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tela flashes you a victorious grin. “No? You weren’t in the hangar, trying to catch a glimpse of Poe Dameron as he returns from his latest space cruise for General Organa? What else were you doing?” You smile feebly. “I was, uh, patrolling the area?”

Tela laughs. “You’re ridiculous.” You grin broadly at that. “Maybe. But weren’t you the one who just happened to keep stopping by the med bay to check on Finn?” Tela’s jaw drops. “I know you’re not bringing that up right now. We’re bullying you, not me.” A voice from behind you makes you straighten up in panic. “I thought bullying was against Resistance policy.”

When you turn around, Poe is standing behind you. Of course it’s Poe. Of course. You wonder how much of the conversation he heard, and you can only hope that he conveniently missed the part where Tela was making fun of you for crushing on him. You realize Poe’s looking at you like he’s expecting an answer. “It’s less bullying and more mild teasing. I’m just noticing how often Tela visits the med bay, even when she’s not injured.”

Tela stares at you with unabashed outrage, but a grin slides its way across Poe’s face. “Actually, I think I know what you mean. Didn’t I see you in there a couple standard hours ago?” You turn to face Tela with new interest. “Wait, I didn’t know about this. You didn’t tell me you left.” Poe nods with mock concern. “It was right when Finn was there for a checkup, too.”

You look back at him. “Did they speak?” Poe returns your conspiratorial gaze. “I don’t think so. A few waves were exchanged.” You incline your head in acceptance. “I think that’s the best we can get.” Poe mirrors your serious expression. “I think so too, officer. See you around.” With that, he issues a wave of his own before heading off down the corridor once more, presumably to go report back to General Organa.

Tela hardly waits for him to disappear around the corner before she turns to you, eyes wide. “Look at you go! I think that was the first interaction you’ve had in weeks. I almost believed you weren’t staring at him mournfully a few minutes ago.” You swat her shoulder. “It wasn’t like that. He approached me.” Tela jumps back from your blow, pretending to rub her arm in pain. “Hey, you can’t hit me. I just sacrificed my humiliation over the med bay so you two could smirk together like you were best friends.”

You smile at her, clasping your hands together over your heart and eliciting a laugh. “And what a sacrifice it was. Your name will go down among the Resistance heroes for all eternity.” Tela chuckles. “So will yours. Y/N L/N, spoke with Poe Dameron once and will never forget it for the rest of her life.” When you move to swat her again, Tela is ready and dodges out of the way.

You’ve almost made it down the corridor when you hear someone calling your name. You look around, slightly annoyed at this interruption, but any trace of irritation vanishes instantly from your face when you realize who’s jogging down the hallway towards you. Poe Dameron, back at it again. You haven’t talked to him in a couple of days, ever since that incident with Tela. You’re not sure that incident is exactly the right word, but it’s close enough. It felt incidental to you.

Poe comes to a stop beside you, breathing erratic from running across the Resistance base. A casual grin spreads across his face, as easy as starting a program on your navicomputer. “So, how’s my favorite Lieutenant Commander of the Datatech Division?” You raise an eyebrow, unable to hide a smile. “Since when have you known my full title? I’m pretty sure only Tela’s bothered to memorize it.” Poe’s grin stalls a second, almost as if he’s embarrassed. Then the smile returns, full force and strong as a laser bolt.

“I make it a point to know all the pretty girls on this side of the galaxy, L/N. That list just happens to include you.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help feeling your heart do a slow roll in your chest. “So, did you jog across the base for anything other than some mild flattery?” Poe presses a hand to his heart in mock dismay. “Oh, it’s always more than mild. But yes, Lieutenant, I did. I need someone who’s tech savvy to help me decode some files.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “And here I thought you wanted me for something interesting. Any space jockey with half a brain can decode files.” Poe’s eyes linger on yours for a little longer than usual. “And what if this space jockey just wanted your company?” You let the question hang in the air for a second, then reply. “Then I’ll do it, but he’ll need a better excuse next time.” Poe’s grin could split the sun. Stars, you’re in over your head.

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Meet me by the eastern side of base at ten standard hours tomorrow? That’s when the data finishes transmitting.” You nod. “I’ll be there.” “I’m looking forward to it.” Poe flashes you one last grin before disappearing down an adjacent corridor. You watch him as he goes. What are you getting yourself into?

You might have reservations, some last ounce of common sense that tells you not to run headlong into danger with this man. Yet you find yourself at the east corner of the base at ten standard hours, just as promised, although the designated meeting spot is empty of anyone save you. This is what you get for letting your heart run wild, you tell yourself, so you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re just a lieutenant to him, remember? Just a job.

Your fears are confirmed when you see Poe turn onto your hallway, talking with another girl. You know her from the intel division- Lian Kos, about as pretty as she is good with a star cruiser. Needless to say, she’s devastatingly attractive, and it comes as no surprise that Poe is deep in conversation with her. You can feel your heart shrinking in your chest, trying to hide itself away from this unwelcome truth that Poe is only playing with you.

However, you might just be kidding yourself, because you swear that the second Poe turns his head and sees you, his eyes light up in something almost like relief. His strides lengthen as he rushes over to you, muttering a quick goodbye to a more than slightly displeased Lian. The girl is forced to turn down another hallway, still evidently bitter over this quick goodbye.

You raise an eyebrow, unable to let it go. “What, did she insult your flying skills? I haven’t seen someone run that far from Lian since she accidentally shot a trainee in the arm during blaster practice.” Poe chuckles at that. “I didn’t want to be late. We’re doing very important work, you hear? The Resistance is crucial.” You barely hold back a snort. “I didn’t realize Resistance work was so important that you had to drop anyone in sight like you’ve been sliced by a vibroblade.”

Poe’s eyes twinkle with laughter, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in the crossfire. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.” Your words dry up on your tongue. He’s just joking, you know that, but something about the way he says it makes you almost think he’s telling the truth, that Poe Dameron would really cast aside a woman like Lian Kos for someone like you. Then the reality of the situation comes crashing back down around you, and you remember that something like that would never happen.

You force your smile back onto your cheeks. “And maybe I want to get this over with so I can go back to my station. Resistance work is important, right?” You might just be looking for excuses, but you swear that Poe looks almost disappointed by this.

Poe’s intel is actually pretty interesting. You hate to admit it after you made fun of him yesterday, but the decoding process is fairly difficult and it takes all of your focus to complete. That being said, you can’t help but notice the way Poe’s eyes linger on your face as you scan the files, or the way his gaze dances between your fingers as you work. It’s as if he’s never seen anyone quite like you before, and he’s taking the chance to truly look at you as if committing your very being to memory. It makes you want to look closer at him, to rethink all the certainties you’d propped up between you and the flyboy standing before you.

At last, the work is done and you’re free to go. You save the last file, turning to hand the datapad back to Poe so he can report to General Organa and be done with the project. However, his hands linger on yours, and he doesn’t accept the datapad right away. When he speaks again, his voice is soft. “I did need you, you know.” For some reason, you get the feeling that he isn’t just talking about the decoding, or the Resistance work, or anything like that at all. You have the strangest impression that he’s talking about the way he feels about you.

You’re afraid to say anything lest you break this moment, like a single word spoken will shatter the quiet of the room or dispel the blinking lights of the diagrams and navicomputers all around you. Poe looks back at you, and you swear he looks almost nervous. That can’t be right- practically perfect starfighter pilot Poe Dameron, the Resistance worker everybody swears by, nervous over you? It feels impossible.

Yet he still stands before you, shifting on his feet, not quite ready to speak again but utterly unwilling to leave. You move before you realize it, unable to take the silent pressure that you should be doing something. When you kiss him, you think it’s the worst mistake you’ve ever made. It certainly makes the blood rush through your head in a way you’ve only experienced during a street brawl against the First Order, when they’re shooting at you as you run and the adrenaline is coursing through your veins. This is how it feels to kiss Poe- not a soft moment, but a firestorm.

Then he’s kissing you again, datapad shoved onto a nearby table so he can wrap his hands around your waist and pull you close. You stay there for a day, maybe a year, or possibly only a couple of seconds. It feels like an eternity or like it barely happened at all. When you break away, you hesitate, still afraid to look up and condemn yourself to whatever emotion will be waiting in his eyes. After a heartbeat, two, you give in and look at him again.

He’s smiling. It’s a soft smile, one you don’t think you’ve seen in a while. He usually puts up this front of classic, confident soldier, a pilot who’s seen impossible odds and never been shaken by it. He wears the smile of a wolf, a leader, an actor. This is a wholly different smile- his, at last. Something that hasn’t yet been taken from him by the war.

His voice is quiet in the stillness of the room. “You keep surprising me, lieutenant.” You can’t help but share in his smile, feeling a giddy rush bubble up in your chest. “I intend to make it a habit.” His hand laces around yours, still unwilling to let you go quite yet. “That sounds good to me.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron oneshot #star wars #star wars imagines #star wars x reader #star wars oneshot #poe #poe imagines #poe oneshot #poe x reader #tfa #tros

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wthtorke · 4 years

Note

Can I get a human saving crucified predator and they escape together on the ship and live happily ever after?

You wouldn't die here. You refused to. Stuck with a group that would leave you behind as bait if the chance was there, no. You refused to.

As your group was chased yet again, everyone darting towards a general direction in hopes not to get murdered by the aliens, you took your chance. Running in the opposite direction, towards their camp, praying they were too busy with the others.

There was one of them in the camp. No, he was like them, but not one of them. You could tell the difference.

He was strapped to a pillar, arms painfully strained back as they held all his weight, breathing barely there. He looked sickly, skin too pale, muscles twitching, and face tiredly. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, not if you freed him.

Even then, being an alien, you couldn't help but feel for him. He looked ashamed, still enough fire in him to roar and snap at your group when you had approached, tusks flaring and tresses whipping in a way that told he wasn't dead, not only that but he was still dangerous.

Ignoring every instinct you had about this, you carefully made your way around the camp, spotting him in that same pillar, head jerking up when he heard your footsteps, growling as his tusks twitched. Warning.

You take a shaky breath and an even shakier step towards him, holding both of your hands up to show you meant no harm. -"Come on man, I mean-, well yeah, man? I think you're a dude, sorry if you're a lady," you said nervously approaching, "It must hurt a lot h-huh?" You stuttered as a particular louder growl made you jump a little bit, "B-Bet I could help" You gulped, staring at the fallen blade close to the pillar, "But let's agree on something first, y-yeah?", his growling took up at the mention of a bargain, spikey brows furrowing together in anger. -"I know, it sucks but we need each other, right? You're too...um...handsome to die here and I'm...well, I'm too fucking young," You said, picking up the blade, pointing it away from him.

-"I'm gonna take you out and we um, we flee I guess, yes? Fuck, I hope you can understand me, I didn't pay attention at school so if you speak Spanish I'm so sorry but I suck," You cleared your throat, "So, you, me, and ship?" You said, pointing at him, yourself, and then making a flying away motion with your free hand, "Forever, far away, yeah?" You continued, hand going further and further away, his eyes following your hand briefly before his gaze burned back into you.

You nodded, lifting the blade, watching for his reaction. When he didn't growl or flinch, you landed a hit against the shackles, the alien falling stiff onto the ground, limbs numb and painfully set to stone from being like that for days.

You gasped as in a blink he was up again, grabbing you by your shirt and bringing your face close to his, tusks flaring as he growled, analyzing your face closely, the bottom tusks scraping against your throat ever so slightly, making you shiver, eyes widening as you tried not to move.

He must have found whatever he was looking for as he let you go. Not shoving you back or pushing you down but simply releasing you, walking away to retrieve his cracked mask from the ground. Snapping it in place, you jerked back as his whole armor shone bright with electricity before the lights vanished completely. "Whoa ma-," You didn't get to finish your sentence as he grabbed you again, just in time for distant screaming to reach your ears.

The group. The aliens.

Your legs barely touched the ground as he all but hauled you with him, running towards an open clearing. Only to have you cursing as he pressed a few buttons into his wrist gauntlet, the ship's cloaking device turning off much to your relief and worry at the same time.

Losing no time, Crucified opened the gate, grabbing your arm and running in, sealing it closed behind him. Rushing to the main panel, Crucified set to work on getting the ship ready to go, not that he knew where to. Just away from death was good for now. He growled and pointed at one of the three oversized thrones that were set by the panels. “You got it, chief! No need to ask twice!” You sat down, pulling on the straps around your form, adjusting them to secure your smaller body, trying not to think which of the three space Michael Myers sat there before.

Thoughts were cut short when a victorious roar left Crucified’s mask, the ship quickly acting on its commands, lifting off the ground, your heart hammering against your ribcage as hard as the ship shook with power as it took off. Your smile lasted for three seconds until the panels went blood red and sirens started blaring, Crucified roaring in anger as he pressed many buttons at once, fingers moving fast and with purpose as a blue blast of energy hit the front window, making you scream in surprise and cling to your chair. They were trying to take the ship down.

Panicked screaming died in your throat as you panted looking at Crucified, ‘hurry’ and ‘do something!’ wouldn’t help now, and if you did survive, you surely did not want to be stuck with an angry alien for a whoever knows how long ride in space. You did scream again, however, as another blast whacked against the glass, a light blue shield lifting seconds after.

Crucified growled as he kept fighting for control of the ship, accessing the main server of the ship, putting up his defenses to make it recognize Berserker’s trials to blow up the ship as a threat and not just a command from the ship’s owner.

While still having to pilot the ship away from the reserve.

Crucified forced the stiffness away from his fingers as he finally won the battle for control, activating the space rift control, which lit up another two buttons before the other two chairs. Crucified roared at you, tresses whipping as he pressed the button in front of him while holding the shield up manually with his other hand.

Eyes widening, you slammed both hands onto the panels from the chair you were on, the button in front of you and the one almost too far off to reach turning green along with Crucified’s, a beam blasting from the ship and out into the sky, opening up a rift that led to an obscure somewhere in the galaxy. Crucified let go of the button, speeding the ship towards the rift as yet another canon blast hit the back of the ship. You closed your eyes as the ship neared the rift. All the sirens and noises suddenly ceasing seconds later.

Panting hard, you only opened your eyes as you heard Crucified dropped down on the chair at your side, head snapping to look at him, whose chest was rising and falling just as fast as yours. You looked around, noticing that you were not in the reserve anymore. That instead of jungle and death, you were now surrounded by stars and -possible- death. The panel still looked red but in a soft glow, as if things were fine now.

You looked back at Crucified to find him looking back at you. Realization caught up as you started chuckling in relief, hand coming up to your forehead to wipe off the sweat of dread and panic. Chuckling evolved to a soft laugh soon enough, “You’re fucking genius, partner,” You said as he huffed, straightening up to mess with the panel again.

-“I don’t know about you but-, I have no idea what to do now” You laughed nervously, Crucified stilling his movements as he considered this. He shook his head slightly.

He also didn’t.

-“Humans suck,” You started, Crucified huffed. “Your kind also sucks, apparently,” Crucified....couldn’t deny that. “What I see is that you don’t suck and I, well...I try not to suck, so-, what do you say we just-, watch each other’s backs for now, yeah? Just-, y’know, as friends? Partners?” You said, hopefully.

Crucified slowly turned to face you, the passive expression of the broken mask not giving you any hints of his actual expression, even if you could see a bit of his left eye through the hole in it.

-“Partners.”

You sighed in relief, smiling brightly, “Partners! We’re gonna be best mates, you’ll see!”

After a year of living together on the ship, not only watching each other’s backs as it was first agreed but taking care of each other, a bond was fully formed. And a year after that, your prediction proved to be right, only that it was a different kind of ‘mates’ that you and Crucified would come to be.

Not that any of you complained, living your best life as best mates could. Together forever.

#yautja #yautja x reader #Yautjas #predator #predators #The Predator #Alien #Aliens #yautja/human #human/yautja #Headcanon #request #reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader

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call-signvalkyrie · 4 years

Text

Ignite the Spark pt. 1

So I quit my shitty job today. Yay me! With the extra time I had today, I got a chance to finish the first chapter of a Poe Dameron series I’ve been working on. Let me know what you guys think!

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

Summary: After years of undercover work for the Resistance, the daughter of Luke Skywalker has returned. Arriving on Ajan Kloss to a warm greeting from General Leia Organa, the Reader is given a gift and has their first meeting with everyone’s favorite pilot.

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Skywalker!Reader

Tags: talks of the Force, a few flashbacks, Poe being embarrassed lol

Word Count: around 3k

When your transport landed on Ajan Kloss, you weren’t sure you would be cut out for this. You’d spend so much time on backwater planets, filtering information to the resistance and doing your best to go unnoticed. You were so used to not interacting with anyone that the thought of being around so many people on a bustling base was a bit scary. All feelings of reservation were swept away, however, when the door of the transport opened to reveal the face of an older woman. Her hair was different since the last time you had seen her. Her face was aged from the many years of fighting the good fight for the rebellion. Her eyes, however, had not changed a day. They gleamed and twinkled in the dying twilight. Her smile made them sparkle even brighter as she reached out toward you.

“Aunt Leia,” you stepped off the transport and into her open arms. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kept you away.” She smiled lovingly, taking your face in both hands.

“I brought the data you asked for. I’ve got it all here.” You said, pulling a flash drive from your jacket pocket.

“That’s wonderful, Stardust.” You beamed with pride at the mention of your childhood nickname. “Lt. Connix, will you please take this data to the command center. Start running a detail immediately.”

“Yes, General.” Lt. Connix took the flash drive and was gone before you could blink.

“Beaux, see to it that Lt. Skywalker’s bags are placed in her quarters, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Beaux gave you a quick wave before stepping onto the transport and out of sight.

“Now, Y/N, I want to give you a quick tour before you settle in. I’m sure you’re exhausted but I want you to be as familiar as possible with everything on this base. This is your home now. No more field missions, I need you with me.” Leia smiled again, taking your arm and leading you toward the left wing of the base and toward the living quarters.

Home. Leia was the only thing you had left. Wherever she was, that’s where your home would be.

After showing you where your quarters would be located as well as the mess hall, med bay, and a quick tour of the Command Center, you were ready to get settled in for the night.

“Well, Y/N, if you need anything tonight, my quarters are right down the hall. You should have a data pad on your desk all charged and ready to go. It’ll have your clearance codes as well as any information you’ll need to know while on base. I’ll need you with me in the morning to debrief that data. It should be downloaded and ready so make sure to give it a look over before the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said, smiling softly at the older woman.

“Goodnight, Stardust.” Leia gave a quick wave before walking out the door.

Turning on your heal, you took a quick second to familiarize yourself with your new home. Being the niece of the general had its perks. Your quarters were small, yes but they were cozy. A small bookshelf and dresser were along the wall to your left, a double bed and desk and chair to your right. The data pad Leia had mentioned was right where she said it would be, all charged and ready to go from the looks of it. Straight ahead was your own private refresher. After unpacking your duffle of clothes, along with your rucksack containing a few personal mementos, you decided to take a quick shower before bed. You could wake up early and review that data for Leia. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent the last 5 years gathering every piece of intel you could on the First Order.

Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, a grey tank and a pair of sleep shorts from your dresser, you stepped into the refresher. Ten minutes later you were scrubbed clean and feeling surprisingly relaxed. It was amazing what a proper shower could do. Opening the door and stepping into your room, you turned to hang your towel on the desk chair when you spotted something you hadn't noticed earlier. On the desk were two boxes accompanied by an envelope. Scrawled across the front in a familiar script was the word “Stardust”. Opening the envelope, you began to read:

Y/N,

For far too long I have kept you in the dark and for that I will always be in your debt. Please accept these as tokens of my sincerest apologies. I hope at least one of these will help light your way. I understand if you’re conflicted but I have hope that one day you will be able to continue your training. Your fathers only wish in life was to see you follow his footsteps. Maybe we can fix that now.

All My Love,

Leia

Setting the letter to the side, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Picking up the smaller of the two boxes, you opened it to reveal a small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, you gasped allowed. Nestled on a small black pillow was a beautifully woven silver chain. Placed ever so delicately in the middle of the pillow was a pendant. Pulling the chain from the box, you let it dangle in front of you in the soft light.

You never thought you would see this necklace again. Your father had given it to you when you left the Jedi temple to be with your aunt Leia all those years ago. When the temple fell and Kylo Ren rose to power, your necklace went missing in the night. That was almost 8 years ago now. Yet, here it was right in your hands like it was never gone. You ran the compass shaped pendant through your fingers, letting the wave of sadness and nostalgia run over you. On one side, a golden crescent moon surrounded by three silver stars embellished the surface. Turning it over, there was an engraving: Stardust.

You gingerly pulled the chain around your neck and adjusted it to size. That’s why you had always loved this necklace.

“It will grow with you, Stardust.”

Sniffling, you took a look at the other package. Thinking back to the note, you already knew what it was. How Leia had found it, you would never know but would be forever grateful. This box was longer, over a foot in length. The box was made of a soft wood that smelled faintly of burned embers. It had no exterior markings and no obvious way of exposing its contents. Slowly, you lowered the box to the floor. Taking a seat in front of it, closed your eyes. Reaching out with your mind, you felt it: The Force.

“The Force is all around you, Y/N. Reach out with your feelings and let it flow through you.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Ahem.”

“I mean: Yes, Master.”

The box gave no notice it had even opened. If some random onlooker happened to be watching, they would be none the wiser. You knew, however, the moment it happened. Lifting the lid, your breath caught in your throat. The inside of the box was lined with a soft, deep blue velvet pillow the color of the night sky. On top of the pillow, an emblem was stitched into the fabric. A shooting star wrapped in what looked like wings. Atop this pillow was a smooth cylindrical object, covered in beautiful ancient markings. It had a slightly curved handle for better grip for your smaller hands. You always favored nature and practicality over dominance and your build had reflected that.

“You must gather your crystals quickly, younglings. The cave is only open for so long. We don’t want any of you getting stuck in here.” You could hear his soft chuckle even now.

Picking up the silver object, you ignited the switch. Your room began to buzz with the soft whir of noise from the object in your hand. Ethereal, green light radiated from the source. You disengaged the ignitor, taking the smooth metal in both hands. How could it have survived? You looked everywhere after the temple was burned and never found it. Had Leia had it all this time and was just waiting for the right time to return it? Who had taken your lightsaber?

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of frantic beeping coming from the hallway. Quickly, you slid the blade back into the box. Tucking it away under your bunk, you scrambled to the door and hit the lock. The door opened with a soft shlick and you stepped into the hallway. Another round of agitated beeps could be heard coming down the hall followed by what sounded like combat boots. Coming around the corner was a small round droid, a BB Unit by the looks of him.

“BeeBee-Ate, I’m sorry! Buddy, our room’s not even this way, where are you going?” a male voice called after the little droid.

“What do you mean you're telling Leia?! It’s the middle of the night, pal. She’s most likely asleep.”

Leaning against the door to your quarters, you began to understand the little guy. He was angry because someone named Poe left him alone with the ship. AGAIN. And got captured and made him worry. AGAIN. You gave a slight chuckle as the little guy rolled by, angry beeps the whole way. Punching your code back into your door panel, you were just about to step back in when a voice called out to you. Stepping back into the hallway, you were greeted by a Resistance pilot. He was still wearing his bright orange flight suit. His thick, curly hair stuck up in odd directions from his helmet. He gave you a soft smile and waved.

“I’m sorry for all the noise, it's been a weird day.” The pilot smiled at you apologetically. “I hope my friend didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was awake.” You smiled back, taking a step out of your room and into the hallway. “Just checking to make sure everything was alright. The General, however, won't be too happy about being disturbed.” You nodded toward the little droid, now rolling his body into your aunts' door at full force.

“Gods, BB-Ate! It’s not that serious! I -” the pilots voice stopped in his throat as the shlick of the door BB-8 was throwing himself into slid open. The little droid went flying full force into the now open quarters of General Organa. You heard a loud clang followed by a series of confused beeps and whistles from the little droid.

“Dameron, you nerf herder! Get your droid out of my room right now or so help me not even the Force will be able to save you!” the General stepped out of her quarters and into the hallway, glairing toward the man to your right. You had to cover your face to hide the smile that was creeping onto it.

“General, I am so sorry.” a deep blush began to creep up the man's neck and onto his face. “I tried to get him to calm down but he just wouldn’t! He insisted - “

“I don’t care, Dameron. Get him out of here NOW. You’re obviously alright so whatever it is can wait until morning.” Leia said, placing one hand on her hip. You hadn’t seen Leia this irritated since you were a child. You were glad that look was fixed on someone else for once.

“Yes, ma’am.” The pilot said, lowering his eyes. “C’mon BB-8. It’s time for bed.” The little droid gave what you interpreted to be a light grumble but complied, rolling out to meet his master. Turning on his heal, the pilot gave you a light nod and started off in the direction he came from.

“Y/N! Ben! Get in here.”

“I told you not to take her lightsaber!” You whispered to your cousin, jabbing him in the ribs.

“She’s my mom. I can take whatever I want from her.” Ben smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, Bantha-breath! I’m gonna tell her you said that!” You skipped off toward your aunt's voice, Ben chasing close behind you.

“Y/N, you okay?” A hand touched your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“Yeah, Aunt Leia, sorry. I think I’m just tired.” You yawned, covering your mouth lightly. “Hey, who was that guy?”

“Oh, that’s Poe. Poe Dameron. He’s a pilot, leader of Black Squadron.” Leia said, exasperation in her voice.

“Like, THE Poe Dameron? Wow.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“He’s a good guy, just has his head in his cockpit most of the time instead of down on solid ground.” Leia said, shaking her head with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought he’d be taller.” You both smiled, enjoying the joke between the two of you.

“Well, between you and me, he really is the best pilot I’ve ever seen.” your aunt gave you a little wink before turning to go back into her own room.

“Even better than...” but you stopped yourself, letting the thought trail on.

“Almost. Maybe.” you could hear the smile in her answer as the door to her room shut behind her.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x skywalker #star wars #reader insert #star wars fanfiction #fanfic

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auroralwriting · 4 years

Text

Like a Child

Prompt: Poe’s crush on you makes him feel like a teenager all over again, but it might go too far when you get married for a mission

Warnings - A/n: hi back to your regular fluff program. THIS IS THE FLUFFIEST THING I’VE EVER WRITTEN BE WARNED

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

“Our next mission will take place on Naboo,” Leia began as all the Squadrons sat in the meeting room. Leia was going over the mission, then who’s be going on them.

Though, it seemed a certain commander couldn’t focus. Y/n L/n, that’s who Poe was focused on; you. The way you nodded lightly to show your focus, how you’d bite your bottom lip when concentrating, how you’d cock your head to the side when confused. You were just so adorable, so pretty, Poe didn’t know how to register this. Sure, he found other female pilots hot, but he’d never felt like this. You were different, his mind didn’t wander to a darker (yet sexier) place, he just wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss your forehead. He wanted to keep you safe from the unsafe world outside of the base.

“The people on this mission will be Snap, Jessika, Poe, and Y/n.” Leia finished. “Does that make sense, everyone?”

Shaking his head, Poe looked to Snap who was next to him. “What did she say?”

“When?” Snap asked as he observed Poe’s confused look.

Poe sucked a breath in through his teeth. “The whole thing?”

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

“So you’re telling me you spent the whole debreifing looking at Y/n? And you didn’t hear a single word Leia said?” Snap asked, his voice slightly amused.

“Don’t say that so loud, Snap!” Poe scolded slightly as he brought Snap closer to him. “And yes, that’s what I said.” Snap laughed as Poe put his face in his hands. “I don’t get it! Why am I feeling like this?”

Snap slowly stopped laughing as he hit Poe’s back lightly. “It’s called a crush, Dameron. Not ‘I’m gonna fuck her,’ but ‘I want to love her,’” Snap explained. “Must be weird for you, huh?”

“Slightly, but for her? I think I can get used to it.” Poe said, and right as he said that, you and Karé walked by, laughing and talking.

Snap sighed. “Get your head back in the cockpit for once, Poe. Now come on, let’s head out.”

Poe grabbed his helmet and hopped inside his X-Wing. “Alright guys, this is an easy mission. Let’s try to make this a quick in and out.” Poe said as soon as his comms system was up and running.

“Got it, Commander.”

“Understood.”

“Yes, sir!”

As the four X-Wings took off, Poe knew he was in for a long trip. With you, he’d probably screw something up that’d ruin everything.

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

“Alright, Snap and I will go that way, you two go that way.” Karé said as everyone had changed into more Nabooian clothes. They were in a small market, ready to find a spy for information.

Snap and Karé walked away as you turned to Poe. “You ready?” you asked in a sweet, cheery voice.

Poe couldn’t get enough of it, he loved hearing you speak. “You know it.” he replied as the two took off into the market.

Looking around, you were amazed at all the foods and colors. As you walked, you gasped when you saw your favorite fruit in a small stand. You hadn’t had it since you were a little girl on your home planet. You walked up to the stall and grabbed two of the fruits. You handed the woman four credits as you walked back to Poe. “Wanna take a quick break?” you asked, holding the fruit in the air.

The two of you sat on some rocks by the market as you handed him a fruit. “What’s this?” Poe asked.

“It’s a Hatti Parlo fruit, they’re incredible!” you said as you took a bite out of the fruit. Poe looked at you, unsure about it. “Oh, come on! They’re really good, I promise.” you urged.

Slowly, Poe took a bite of the sweet fruit as his eyes widned. “Gods..” he muttered as he took another bite. You giggled at his reaction and Poe could feel his heart melting.

As the two of you ate and talked, your eye soon caught something. “Poe- that’s him. That’s the guy.” you said quietly.

Together, the both of you stood up and approched him. You kneeled down and grabbed a small piece of paper from your boot, acting like he dropped it. “Sir, you dropped this.” you said as you handed him the paper. He opened it and nodded.

“Come with me.” he muttered lowly under his breath as he began walking. Poe and you followed him into a small cave. “Leia sent me a transmission. I have all you need to know here.” the man said as he passed Poe a large scroll. Poe put it in his satchel.

“Thank you, sir. This will really help the Resistance. What can we do to repay you?” Poe asked.

The man sighed. “Just win the war, that’s all you can do. Now go, you must be leaving here before someone finds you.”

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

“Where the hell are Karé and Snap?” Poe asked as you both stood by your X-Wings. “They should’ve been back here by now. It’s almost dark.” Poe remarked as he looked to the sky.

“I’ve always wanted to see a Naboo night sky. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful thing in the entire galaxy.” you said as you looked to the stars. “It seems like those rumors were true.”

Poe jumped when his comms system went off. “Poe-- we have a problem.” Snap’s crackled voice came through. “We may or may not have accidentally gotten ourselves into the palace and we may or may not be stuck here.”

“What?” you asked as he stood by Poe. “How in the world did that--”

“I don’t know,” Karé’s voice came through. “But we need help, fast.”

Poe nodded. “How do we get to you? There’s no way in the palace.”

“Not unless your getting married.” Karé mentioned.

You looked to Poe who looked down to you. “Wanna get married, Flyboy?” you asked teasingly. Only did you then realize that he was nervous as he gulped, but he tried to hide it.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’d love to marry a beautiful pilot such as yourself.” he replied.

“Gods, stop flirting and come save us!” Snap cried as the comms went down. You blushed heavily as you looked down. You felt Poe’s eyes on you, just as you had at the base earlier.

Poe looked down to you, he was lightly blusing, but it was nothing too much. “We’d, uh, better go make reservations. Let’s go.” he said smoothly as you two walked to the palace.

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

“I cannot believe I’m doing this.” you muttered as you looked down to your lacey, borrowed wedding dress. A maid put a small veil on your head, it was a small tiara. As you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help but get teary-eyed. You looked beautiful. You’d never realized how bad you wanted to walk down the isle until that moment.

“Darling, don’t cry!” another maid spoke as she handed you a tissue. “You must be very much in love.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m lucky.” you lied, but it felt too real. The lines of a plan, a mission, and a real life event were crossing and getting blurry. Maybe in some weird way, you did want to marry Poe for real. But certainly not now, not before you’d ever even kissed him.

As you looked away from the mirror, you heard the faint sound of the wedding march. You nodded to a maid who opened the doors and lead you to another set. As they opened, you saw Poe and a preist standing there. Poe was in a nice suit, he’d even gotten that muck and grease off of him. He looked good, but you liked him the other way a little more.

Walking down the isle was an experience. You were somehow nervous, yet happy? But it was fake, you wouldn’t actually get married.

Stopping in front of Poe, he slowly lifted the veil from over your face and put it behind you. “You look beautiful.” he muttered as you looked down and smiled. You thought his acting was good, but you wondered if it were real.

The preist spoke, but you didn’t hear him. You just looked at Poe, his hands in yours. It was surreal, you knew for sure that you liked Poe, maybe even wanted this to be real. But as you looked down, you saw a small blaster in his belt. You smirked and pressed your lips in a line.

“Poe, you may recite your vows.” the preist said as Poe’s eyes got wide.

“Y/n, you once told me the Naboo skies were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You were wrong; you’re the most beautiful thing. Nothing can compare to you. I love you.” Poe said simply.

You knew it was your turn, so you blinked back some small tears. “Poe, when we first met, I thought you were some flirty, handsome flyboy. You are, don’t get me wrong, but you’re more than that. I see things in you that I didn’t see before. I love you too.” you spoke honestly.

“The rings?”

Poe slowly took a small silver ring off of his necklace. You knew the story, Leia had once told you when you asked her about it. This felt wrong, it was his mother’s after all. You felt wrong for putting it on your finger, but you didn’t. Poe did it for you without any sign of hesitation. Grabbing your small, silver band, you slid it on Poe’s finger.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Groom, you may kiss the bride.”

Now it was your turn to not hesitate. You almost threw your lips onto Poe’s with such strong passion. He kissed back with even more, you knew right then and there that he liked you too.

As you pulled away, you two slowly went back down the isle. Once the doors shut, you looked to Poe. “Did we actually just--”

“I think we did.” Poe said. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t..” he trailed off as he looked down.

You put your hand on his cheek, cupping it. He leaned into your touch as he looked to you. “I wasn’t lying. I love you.” you said softly.

“You do?” Poe asked, eyes beginning to gleam with happiness. You nodded as he kissed you again, pulling your waist closer to his. He pulled away laughing. “Do you wanna just say we got together and maybe also... promised to get married?” he said.

Laughing with him, you nodded. “I’d love that, now, let’s go get our friends.”

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

BONUS

“So you two are married?!” Jessika yelled as the mess hall went silent. “You like, actually are married?!”

Poe put his hands up. “To be fair, we saved Karé and Snap. But we like to call it our pre-marrige before we actually get married.” Poe explained.

Everyone in the Resistance freaked out when they saw you both with wedding rings. Even Leia panicked, she knew you two would get together, but not that quick. You both brought everyone to the mess hall so you could explain what happened.

“Why are you two still wearing rings?” Karé asked.

You shrugged. “Promise rings, I guess.”

“So you’re going to get married again?” Lu’lo asked. You and Poe nodded.

Leia threw her hands up above her head. “I call being a maid of honor! After all, I did put them on the mission together.” Everyone laughed as you smiled at Poe, your technical husband, but love of your life.

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Photo

Scott came home exhausted.

Sure, ultimately, he had had John on board and the mission had been a success, but still flying Thunderbird Three was very different from flying Thunderbird One.

Once the great red ‘bird was silent in her gantry and he had finished post-flight checks, he activated the pilot retrieval process and the mechanics pulled him backwards and disembarkation took over.

The system dumped him in the locker room and he dragged himself into a shower and into his clothes.

He would have then dragged himself into bed, but his body was demanding sustenance and honestly, he really needed to check on Virgil and Gordon who were still on the other side of the planet digging up a mudslide.

So one am found him stumbling into the comms room. It was dark, the only light was moonlight, but it was enough to sketch out the room, ghost the portraits and give him enough guidance to make his way to his father’s desk. He could have activated the lights, but the dark was restful and calming after the screaming of emergency lighting and terrified people.

“Scott?”

The voice out of nowhere scared his adrenal glands into sudden production and he let out a decidedly high-pitched yelp.

A lump moved on the circular lounge and he stumbled backwards.

It really was a sign of exactly how exhausted he was.

“You okay?” The voice was small and tentative and…decidedly snotty.

“Alan? What the hell are you doing up?! You should be asleep.”

“Wanted to wait for you.”

His heart began to slow, its frantic beating still loud in his ears. “Does Grandma know you’re up?”

“Nooo.”

Scott sighed. This is why he had grey hair. Little brothers. He ran a hand across his face. “Why are you still awake? You need your sleep to recover. The doctor was very adamant about that.”

“I am resting. Just on the couch.” A sniffle. “I was worried about you.”

Another sigh, but this time Scott skipped down the steps into the circular lounge and sat down beside his littlest brother. “I was fine, Allie. I’m fully trained on Thunderbird Three, you know that. Maybe not as proficient as you, but I’m capable. Besides, I had John watching my back. You know how pedantic he is for safety up there.”

The shadow that was his brother shifted along the lounge and curled up against his arm. “I know.” Another sniffle. “It’s just hard, you know. Don’t like being left behind. Sick of being sick.”

Scott let his shoulders drop and lifted his arm, drawing his little brother close. “You’re getting better. It won’t be much longer.”

He received a grunt for that.

Alan had developed a nasty flu during an evacuation in Bangladesh. Fortunately, he had been with Virgil on Two at the time and not alone in space. Fortunately or not, the worried yell from his engineer brother when he found Alan passed out in Two’s main corridor spoke of the reason why Scott suspected Virgil dyed his hair.

There had been a mad dash to hospital after that. Two scorched the lawn in the reserve opposite the Auckland Hospital…again. One of these days, they would give iR a reserved space to land. It would save Scott from having to pay for extra greenskeepers every damn time there was an emergency.

Of course, it wasn’t your usual everyday flu. No, Alan was a Tracy, therefore it was a life threatening rare, tear your hair out as it goes grey kind of virus and it had been very scary for a few days there.

Virgil had been beside himself and Scott worried out of his mind. All the brothers had gathered terrified that they were about to lose their youngest.

There had been tears.

But Alan was tough. Life had always been hard to their littlest. He had lost so much, missed out on so much, and apparently that virus wasn’t up to the fight Alan was willing to throw at it, so it died.

And Alan slowly, ever so slowly, started getting better.

Those days were long past now and Alan only had the dregs. He had been cleared by disease control and allowed home. None of the older brothers had tested positive and it seemed they had escaped another bullet aimed at the Tracy family.

But it had been terrifying.

So Alan was under general moddle-coddling and if Grandma found him out here in the middle of the night there would be all hell to pay.

Scott understood his little brother’s reasoning though.

It was his ‘bird and he wasn’t flying.

“She performed perfectly.”

“Didn’t expect she wouldn’t.” His brother snuggled into his side, the sixteen-year-old reduced to six-year-old behaviour by his illness. “Was lonely.”

“Oh.” Scott tightened his hold.

With Virgil and Gordon out on a mission, the house would be quiet.

“Are they okay?”

“They were when I dropped off John. He would let us know if there were any problems.” Didn’t stop Scott from wanting to double check anyway. Hence his presence in the lounge.

“Can we watch?”

Scott blinked. “I guess so.”

Fumbling in the dark, he found the ‘projector remote and hit the on button. “John?”

His space brother’s tired hologram flickered into the middle of the lounge. “Scott? What are you still doing up? Is there a problem?” A frown as John noticed the other occupant of the sofa. “Alan? You should be in bed. Grandma will blow a circuit if she finds you up.”

“Alan was waiting for me.” It was the Commander’s voice. God, he was tired. A sigh. “Sorry, John, could you relay Virgil and Gordon’s monitoring feed down here? Alan wants to check on them.”

John stared at them a moment. “Okay. FAB.”

His holographic form flickered out to be replaced by a view from Two’s external camera. Virgil walked past covered in mud yelling at someone.

The someone turned out to be an equally mud-covered Gordon. Hell, the strawberry blond was a brunet. Both brothers looked as exhausted as Scott felt as they had a rather energetic discussion. Fortunately, it appeared that the rescue was over and Virgil was loading up the pod into its module. Unfortunately, tired meant grumpy and impatient.

“They look exhausted.”

“It was a nasty rescue. Far too many people died.”

“But they made a difference, didn’t they?” It was a child-like question that they both knew the answer to, but Alan had asked it anyway.

“Yes, they made a difference. Two hundred and three people hauled alive out of the mud today because of International Rescue.”

“We do good.”

“Yeah, we do.”

Gordon threw a glob of mud at Virgil’s head and the resultant yelling match was extensive. Scott sighed. “They need to come home.” He fiddled with the controls and set it to transmit his voice. “Thunderbird Two from Tracy Island. What the hell do you two think you are doing?”

On the ‘projector both brothers jumped as if a voice had come from above. Which it had since both Two’s camera and external speaker were a considerable distance over their heads.

“Mission complete, Tracy Island. Working through clean up. Estimated departure, ten minutes.” At least Virgil managed to regain most of his composure.

“Good. Now stop mucking around and drag your tired butts home.”

“Uh, FAB, Tracy Island.” Virgil stared at Gordon as if Scott had lost a few marbles. But the two of them executed the last of the pack up in an orderly fashion and exactly ten minutes later, their view launched with a flare of VTOL. The ground disappeared beneath and as Virgil hit the rear thrusters, it all became a blur.

Scott hit the kill switch and the room fell into darkness once again.

“They’ll be home soon.”

“Mmmhmm.”

Alan’s head was heavy on his shoulder, but warm and reassuring. Scott brought his other arm around and turned slightly so his brother could curl in a little closer, his head now more under Scott’s chin. Alan muttered something and snuggled up.

Scott rested his cheek against soft hair as Alan’s breathing drifted into the even pace of sleep, the remains of the infection that had brought them so close to losing him, now little more than a rough edge to each breath.

Closing his eyes, Scott revelled in having this moment, of not being denied it, of having another chance.

A moment where exhaustion and relief met and he drifted away.

-o-o-o-

Virgil entered the comms room to find it dark except for the moonlight shining through the rafters. It was just enough light to outline two brothers curled up on the couch together, both deeply asleep.

Deep enough that Virgil was surprised to find his inadvertent entrance hadn’t disturbed the ever fragile slumber of his eldest brother. So, feeling daring, he grabbed a throw rug and wrapped it gently about the two of them.

Neither stirred at all.

Miracles were possible.

Virgil smiled before tiptoeing out and leaving them there in the moonlight.

Together.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #Scott Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #this reblog is brought to you due to the fact that I still haven't finished my santa fic #this is not going to stop me from possibly writing a completely random scene that I have had in my head since driving home tonight #muse is rebelling and kicking and screaming #also apparently I just want to write about Scott #this is odd #I also need sleep #this is usual #and annoying

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 5

[Read on AO3]

Written for @vfordii‘s birthday which was....five months ago. BUT LISTEN, it’s still better than last year’s six months so like...improvement. IMPROVEMENT.

“You know why I called you here.” The Marshal’s voice is soft, barely louder than the hum of the fluorescents. “I presume.”

Shirayuki catches herself at the edge of her seat, chest pitched forward, neck craning to decipher every word and--

She settles back with a frown. Even a PhD isn’t a defense to the cheapest tactic on the pop-psych bookstore self-help shelf, it seems. Worse, Izana knows it, his mouth tipped so subtly toward a smile. And now he knows she knows it, and--

Her mug has gone cool, but it’s at least a credible distraction, a convenient way to buy some time and save face. Not something she ever expected she’d care about. Doesn’t mean she won’t take the opportunity.

“Zen.” The ceramic clacks like a shot as she sets it down. “You want to talk about the drift.”

“Yes.” He breathes, long and labored. “And no. I want him back in the cockpit.”

Come see me at your earliest convenience, his email had said, practically polite by PPDC standards. Manners atrophied when a body spent so much time in the higher altitudes of the chain of command. I’d like to discuss a few things with you.

She’d known what this would be about. What it was always going to be about. And still--

Shirayuki is still disappointed. “You have to be joking. It took him three years to get him into a jaeger at all, and you want to just...push him right back in.”

“No,” he hums, fingers still and steepled over his desk. “I want you to do it.”

There are rules of engagement for tangling with the Marshal. Voices are to be kept low, steady. Think before speaking. Don’t react. Showing an emotion in front of Izana Wisteria would be as good as handing him a rope to hang her with. “I’m not his commander.”

His fingers knit, knuckles popping in the silence-- “I know that, Doctor.”

Her own are curled into fists; at least then he can’t see them shaking. “Then I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you how to do your job,” he tells her, with only a pause for breath before he does. “I am merely suggesting that it is far past time to remove the kid gloves you have been handling him with.”

Her fists clench, hard enough to leave vivid crescents in the meat of her palms. “I believe I’m the judge of that.”

“Of course.” Every word drips with insincerity. “But I’m sure a little encouragement from you would--”

“I’ll do what’s necessary for the health of my patient,” she informs him, words clipped. “You’re not my commander.”

Izana stills, gaze riveted to her. “I am well aware of that, doctor. But I need him in a jaeger yesterday.”

“You’ve needed him in a jaeger for the past three years.” Shirayuki bolts to her feet, and oh, if only she could locate at least another foot of height, she might be able to finally have the high ground in one of these arguments. “I don’t see what the rush is now.”

His voice doesn’t raise above a pleasant chat, but bitterness weighs down every word. “You should.”

Shirayuki doesn’t believe in violence. Or rather, violence is a choice, and she doesn’t believe in choosing it unless no other option remains that causes less harm, but, well--

She’s got a very short list of people who deserved a black eye, and Izana Wisteria sorely tempts her to put his name on it. “What do you mean by that?”

The Marshall is all tense lines behind the battlement of his desk, a buttress against the fall. “Aren’t you a part of K-Science?”

The only distinction that mattered in the dome was between combatants and non; that a licensed therapist fell more into the ‘administration’ box rather than ‘research scientist’ was the least of their concerns. At least as far as the placement of her office. “Tangentially.”

“Well then.” His tension washes away like debris after the storm. “It’s all in the numbers.”

Shirayuki has been trained extensively in conflict resolution, in effective communication, in managerial manipulation, and still, still-- annoyance dogs her every step, nipping at her heels as she loses herself in the dome’s labyrinth of corridors. For once it would be nice to leave the Marshal’s office with something more like a sense of purpose and less like a reprieve in shoving boulders up a muddy hill in Tartarus, but this far into her tenure with the PPDC, she knows better than to hope for impossible asks. It’s not a new feeling by any means-- there’s certainly a hole worn in her heart for just this sort of fruitless anger and a monkey on her back with Izana Wisteria’s face, but he’s certainly devised an entirely new way to get her hackles up today.

Long limbs insinuate themself next to hers, a white-clad arm weaving its way around her elbow. She looks up-- not far-- into a pearl white, movie star grin.

“Well, well,” Yuzuri lilts, halfway between a drawl and singsong. “Someone’s looking stormy.”

Shirayuki doesn’t know how tall a person has to be to be considered thunderous, but if the crinkle to Yuzuri’s eyes are any indication, she’s well below the mark. “I was meeting with the Marshal.”

Yuzuri swings a single, impressed note. “Yeah, that’d do it. Or, I’d imagine it would. Not like he asks to see many of us in K-Science.”

Funny, she doesn’t say, since he’s so comfortable quoting your data. “You should probably count yourself lucky on that one.”

“Oh, yeah.” Yuzuri waves a hand, bangles jangling down her wrist. “Garrack handles him. Honestly, I think she enjoys the aggravation.”

Knowing Garrack like she does, Shirayuki certainly wouldn’t discount it.

Slender fingers flick out a sharp snap. “Hey, maybe you can send her the next time you need to deal with His Majesty. I’m sure she’d kill for a distraction just about now.”

“Oh, no! I’m-- I don’t need any help, it’s just...” She frowns, rifling through the satchel slung over her shoulder. She hardly has anything in it-- lip balm, her notes, a pack of tissues, her civilian identification, her wallet-- but still, her keys are shifted underneath the whole of her life, jingling just out of her reach.

It’s a metaphor, probably, but her love affair with literature is at too much of a standstill these days for her to bother unpacking it. Not when it’s probably going to end in her storming back into the Marshal’s office and demanding he show her some form of respect if he expects her to do her job.

Yuzuri’s mouth curls into a sly smile. “He’s top brass that’s used to having full grown adults ask how high rather than why?”

“That’s part of it,” she admits begrudgingly. “But it would also be nice if he could say what he means, instead of--youch!”

Metal teeth digging painfully into her palm, but she holds on anyway, dragging the ring right out, hair ties and all.

“Instead of...?” Yuzuri prompts, far too amused.

She heaves a sigh, plucking rubber bands off her hand. “Making it all some sort of...logic block word puzzle.”

Blonde brows slant skeptically. “I thought you loved those things.”

“For fun. Not for...” She waves a hand, keys jingling and brightly as Yuzuri’s bangles. “...Professional conversations. I’m not here for his entertainment. I don’t have time for-- for games!”

“Not when you could be doing your actual job.”

“Right.” Her actual job, which has almost exclusively been managing Zen’s feelings regarding Izana for months now. “And now he wants me to...“

She hesitates, teeth sinking into her lip. Outside the dome, patient confidentiality is the backbone of her profession, but here, when everyone eats and breathes and lives on top of one another--

“Lemme guess,” Yuzuri drawls, “get that boy in a pilot seat?”

-- it’s impossible. “I just wish he would show some faith.”

“In you?”

“No.” That’s asking far too much from a man who has only ever trusted as far as the drift could take him. She heaves a sigh, flyaways fluttering in her peripherals. “In Zen.”

A laugh huffs out of Yuzuri. “That’s asking a bit much from an older brother, don’t you think?”

Shirayuki has never, strictly, had a sibling. Ryuu certainly straddles the line between friend, colleague, and family, but she’s never doubted his drive, or the rigorous course of his research. He wouldn’t be her first choice to stand in front of the PPDC committee and defend her findings, but in a pinch, she would trust him wholeheartedly, with no reservations, to do the job.

That does not seem to be the unifying sibling experience. “Is it?”

Yuzuri grins. “You are definitely an only child.”

She restrains her scowl to a disapproving frown. “Maybe, in this case, that’s a good thing.”

They turn down a corridor, and relief floods into her-- this is it, the hall that holds her office at the end. She takes a step forward, but Yuzuri holds her back, gaze fixed leagues away.

“Do you really think he’ll do it?” She blinks, eyes finally focusing down on Shirayuki. “You really think he’ll get back in that jeager?”

“Yes.”

Yuzuri recoils, blinking. “Wow, no hesitation on that one, huh?”

“None,” she agrees, a smile lingering at the edge of her lips. “I know Zen might be hurting right now after--” the most disastrous drift she’s witnessed in her entire career-- “everything, but he...”

She takes in a breath, putting her back to her door. “No matter what happens, Zen always does the right thing.” It’d been that unwavering moral compass that had drawn her to him, a shining bright light among the downtrodden heart of the dome. “He may need a little time to pick himself back up, dust himself back off, but he knows that one day, he’ll have to sit down and talk this out, not run--”

“But not today, it looks like.” Yuzuri’s hand darts right over her shoulder, plucking something off her door.

Shirayuki blinks, letting the yellowed square of paper come into focus.

Something came up. Rain check ~Z

She stares, fingers numb as she swipes the scrap out of Yuzuri’s hands.

“That sunovabitch,” she grits out, paper dinting beneath her grip. “He’s avoiding me.”

“So.” Yuzuri cocks her head, mouth stretching wide. “Wanna grab some grub?”

“I’m just saying.” Suzu’s hand scribbles across a napkin, dropping symbols more arcane than any rift. “If I could just get any of the brass to take a good look at this, things would be different.”

“Different how?” Kazaha drawls, accusation dripping from every word. At least, that’s how it sounds-- it hadn’t taken Shirayuki long to realize that’s just how the man speaks, every phoneme meant to cut glass. The asshole accent, Yuzuri calls it. “Does this somehow improve the quality of life in the dome? The world? The--?”

“It’ll certainly improve my quality of life if I don’t have to hear about it,” Yuzuri deadpans. “C’mon, we’re eating dinner. Let’s put the toys away.”

“It’s not a toy, it’s a tool,” Suzu grumbles, finishing it with a flourish. “And if we used it, we’d know when the kaiju would show up, instead of just waiting for them to wade into the Sea of China or whatever.”

That, at least, gets the team to bow their heads over it, passing around frowns and furrows alike.

“If that was the case,” Kazaha sniffs, pushing it away. “Garrack Gazelt would have already put this in front of the Marshal.”

Suzu scowls, yanking it back. “You know that none of those jarheads appreciate good science! Until I get this paired up with some pretty little graphs, I might as well be speaking Japanese.”

Izuru perks up at that. “Doesn’t the Marshal speak Japanese?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“Hm.” Ryuu squirms next to her, craning his head over the napkin. “I think you’re missing a variable.”

“Impossible.” Suzu stares down at it. “Just look here--”

Shirayuki glances down, letters and numbers do-si-doing between roots and over fractions. Izana might shove her office all the way down in K-Science, but that certainly didn’t give her the training to decipher this little bit of mathematical prognostication.

Suzu pitches forward, felt-tip pen rolling across his knuckles in a bit of sleight-of-hand she would have never thought him capable of. “--you’ll see that by putting ‘a’ over ‘n’ squared--”

“All right.” Yuzuri’s fingers knit in the cotton of his button-down, dragging him back down onto the bench with a thump. “I think we’ve had quite enough of that.”

With a lift of his brows, Suzu’s face shifts from fox to puppy in eight muscles flat. “But, Yuzuri--”

“No buts.” Her fingers pluck the pen out of his, dropping it back into a pocket with a firm, warning pat. “Now, as I was trying to say: His Highness is avoiding you.”

Shirayuki blinks, gaze dragging up to where Yuzuri waits with an impatient smirk. “N-no! That’s not it at all. Something probably came up--”

“Izana’s avoiding you?” Suzu swings a wide, gaping stare at her. “Didn’t you just have a meeting today? What did you do to him?”

Her hands fly up, waving off the accusation. “Ah, no, I didn’t--”

“No, not His Majesty, His Highness,” Yuzuri corrects, blowing on a spoonful of the mess’s finest chicken noodle. “And he is avoiding you, which is bullshit.”

She has to bite her cheeks to keep her lips from peeling back into a grimace. “Zen has lots of work to keep him busy--”

“What work?” Kazaha scoffs, meticulously cutting his chicken into bite-sized pieces. “He’s a ranger without a co-pilot. It’s not like he can just jump into a jaeger and fight kaiju with half a working mecha.”

Yuzuri swivels toward him, hands held out with a level of emphasis Shirayuki can’t help but feel is more than the situation truly deserves. Especially since some of the rangers are starting to peer over their way. “See, even Kazaha knows it’s bullshit.”

His mouth purses into a tight frown. “I don’t know why it’s even Kazaha--”

Yuzuri’s brows make a dubious stretch toward her hairline. “I’m pretty sure you do.”

“--I’m very socially astute, even Shidan--”

“--just because he lets you out of the lab doesn’t mean you don’t offend people by breathing--”

“I dunno.” Suzu’s forehead furrows, tapping a spoon on each of his oyster crackers, drowning them in broth. “Zen seems like a real upright guy, you know? Forthright. If he had a problem, he’d say something, not just ghost you.”

Yuzuri stares at him. “He buys you one bubble tea, and now he can do no wrong.”

“Do you know how hard those are to get out here? He had to go all the way out to--”

Whatever else Suzu means to say, it’s lost in the siren.

This isn’t Shirayuki’s first time in the dome-- far from it-- but it’s never easy.

The siren’s moan shivers through the air, something she feels rather than hears. Her teeth rattle in her mouth, and there’s nothing she wants to do more than curl up beneath the table and ride it out, eyes squeezed shut and hands over her ears. She wouldn’t be the only one; already half of K-Science is on the ground, tears streaming down more than one ashen face.

Man’s worst enemy is fear. Grandpa had told her that, letting her dip her toes into the bay. She’d been small, young enough that she still wondered if kaiju might lurk under the surface, waiting to pull tasty little girls beneath the depths. Kaiju can only kill you once, but fear kills a hundred times. His hand sits heavy on her shoulder, a comfort, a cage; and she--

She gets up.

Pilots and personnel scramble; one tech stands up too fast, boot hooking on the bench’s edge and sprawling face-first into the floor. It’s only ranger reflexes that keep her from getting trampled, dodging around the splay of her fingers with a dexterity that would make Shirayuki’s jaw drop if she wasn’t trying to keep all her molars from jittering out of their sockets.

There’s a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t just imagined it, a goad to get her standing. She traces the hand back, up ranger fatigues to dark hair, brows raised, and beneath them--

It’s violet eyes, not gold. Not Obi, but a ranger she’s never seen before, his mouth quirked with cold consideration.

“It would be safer,” he says, voice somehow Altantic-crisp over the cacophony, “if you stayed in your seat.”

Her mouth opens, working around the sounds to thank him, but he’s already gone, disappeared into the crowd of PPDC personnel around her. Shirayuki’s eyes shift over the mob, trying to-- to find him, maybe, or at least a face she knew, someone that she could talk to, someone to memorize one last time--

She finds one, silver-blond hair shimmering at the door, too pale to be anyone else. Zen. It’s Zen looking right at her, those deep blue eyes inscrutable, mouth carved into a line more grim than he’s ever shown her.

He turns away.

“It’s too soon, though,” Suzu murmurs, staring down at his napkin. The screens are on now, muted by the siren’s wails, and there’s a Kaiju on it, frill rigid around its reptilian face as it tears a city to twisted metal ribbons. It’s just buildings, streets, impossible to tell which one, but all that matters right now is not here.

“As I said,” Ryuu says, only just audible over the drone. “You dropped a variable.”

What hurts most, once her teeth stop rattling and her heart ceases to pound in her chest, is that Yuzuri is right-- Zen is avoiding her.

“The sessions are his choice.” Labeling tubes isn’t quite how Shirayuki had envisioned her evening going, especially with her mind half-away, pondering over the Pacific, but it’s something to do. “No one can force him to come.”

“Sounds like that’s half the problem,” Garrack mutters, forehead pressed to the hood, leaving a faint, oily smear across the glass. “Free will. Foils gods and men alike, doesn’t it?”

Her mouth pulls down at the corners, a bow stretched too tight, just like her patience. “I don’t want him to be forced. Therapy only works if the patient wants to change.”

Which, by Zen’s conspicuous absence, tells her he doesn’t. He’s happy as he is, wearing the fatigues but never getting in the cockpit, waiting for a copilot that’s already shown how little he cares about anything but lining his own pocket.

“Of course. You can lead a horse to water, but you’ll never make it drink.” It’s impressive to watch Garrack work; even in rubber sleeves, her grip never trembles, never slips. In the same position, Shirayuki can barely close a fist, but Garrack’s got the same dexterity in the hood as she does out of it. “Good thing you get paid regardless.”

Shirayuki flushes, heat pricking at her pride. “I’m not worried about that.”

“No, I wouldn’t think you are,” Garrack murmurs. “I’m just saying it’s nice. Salaried, with room and board to boot.”

Her frown falls further, flirting with a glower. “I’m aware that I’m in the unique position of not having to care in an official capacity if he bothers to come back. But personally--” her breath catches, stomach doing one, solid somersault-- “I do. I want him to want this.”

Garrack hums, not an agreement or judgement, but an acknowledgement. Tactic permission to proceed.

“Izana wants me to tells him to climb into a jeager, to use my-- our personal connection to manipulate him into the cockpit, regardless of what his personal feelings are.” Her breath rushes from her lungs, suddenly ragged, frayed at either end. “No, encourage. That’s what he told me. That it’s my job to do it for humanity.”

One thick eyebrow arches under Garrack’s cap, her eyes bright with interest. “And how do you feel about that?”

It’s strange being on the other side of this question, to be the analyzed instead of the analyzer. She squirms, teeth worrying at her lip, mind racing with possibilities.

“C’mon now,” Garrack chides, mouth hooking into a smirk. She picks up her rack, rattling the small tubes in their holes. “I gave you those for a reason. Idle hands are the devil’s playground, you know-- at least, that’s what people say when they’re afraid of what you’ll get up to if you start thinking.”

She tosses her a wink, ejecting the tip of her pipette into the trash before fitting on another. “Too bad they don’t know that drudgery clears your mind. Have all my best ideas when I’ve got a sharpie and a hundred two-mils to get through. So come on--” she grins, all conspiracy-- “tell me. What do you think of our illustrious leader’s idea?”

Her teeth click shut around her first opinion-- saying Izana Wisteria should go suck eggs would not only please Garrack far too much, but would be around the rest of the base by morning. The last thing she needs is the Marshal inviting her into his office and reading that off one of his hundreds of emails. “...Think that’s beyond my professional scope to comment on.”

“Oh please.” Garrack waves her off, one rubber arm flailing behind the glass. “I’m not asking you to issue a formal complaint about the marshal’s policies. I want to know if you think that kid should get in that steel coffin and kick the closest kaiju in whatever passes for their balls. If throwing another body at the breach is what’s best for humanity.”

“I...”

It shouldn’t be. There’s more rangers on this base than jaegers to fit them; one career pilot pulling back to fill the ranks shouldn’t be more than a drop in the bucket, a chair to fill. But this is no ordinary jaeger-- this is Rex Tyrannous, the most advanced piece of machinery to roll out of a PPDC facility before or since. Rebuilt from the same blueprint as the Mark I, reconfigured with the best technology the Mark III could offer, the Mark IV’s older, more deadly brother, and--

And the money for it hadn’t come out of Defense Corps coffers. No matter how many hopefuls washed up at the dome, the King of Kaijus wouldn’t come out of its box for anyone less than a Wisteria, not as long as at least one was still standing.

“Yes.” She spits the word out like poison, but still she feels unclean. “There’s no one else that can do what he needs to.”

Garrack’s mouth twists in a wry curve. “Then there you go.”

“It’s a conflict of interest!” Shirayuki insists, the sharpie in her hand shaking as she tries to form a 4. “If there was anyone on this base that had the credentials, I’d-- I’d put in the referral myself. He deserves someone that’s impartial--”

“Shirayuki.” With exaggerated care, Garrack pulls her arms from the hood, letting her hands fall down to her lap. “Do you think there is a single soul in this dome who could do the math you did and not be partial?”

Her mouth works, opening once, twice, before settling shut with a snick.

“I didn’t hire you because you lacked bias.” Garrack’s voice pitches low, softer than she’s ever heard her, knuckles white where they clasp her knees . “You wrote a paper about PTSD in rangers that lost a partner in the drift. A paper, might I add, that showed a great deal of knowledge in jaeger production and use. The sort of thing no one learns unless they’ve been locked up under a dome for years before being released in the wild.”

It’s not an accusation, not yet, but Shirayuki’s hands still anyway, clammy beneath latex.

“Because of that useless wall, we’re years behind in jaeger production. We need new mechs, and Rex Tyrannous is the best model we got left, whether it’s been sitting in its box for half a decade or not. ” She settles back, brow arched. “But I don’t need to tell you that, now do I?”

No. Her fingers clench hard around the sharpie. She doesn’t.

“Shirayuki, I know you’re a good kid, but you do get to be selfish sometimes.” Garrack grins, too pleased at the prospect. “You’re human, just like the rest of us. There’s no one who doesn’t have skin in this game.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “But it’s my job to do what’s best for him as my patient, not just--”

Garrack snorts. “Oh, is the discontinuation of the human race not going to affect him?”

Shirayuki frowns, opening her mouth to-- well, to say something quelling, no doubt. But-- “Oh.”

Garrack hunches over her lap, forearms braced on her thighs. “I know the Wisterias put on a good show of being gods, but they’re flesh and blood like the rest of us. It doesn’t do anyone good for them to sit out the apocalypse. Not even themselves.”

“But, I...” She sets the tubes down, gloves crinkling into fists. “I don’t know what happened in the drift, just what the readouts said. It could have been a failure on Obi’s side just as much as his, and if they’re not compatible--”

“Then just ask him,” Garrack sighs, swiveling back toward the hood. “You don’t need to try to read minds.”

“But he’s not talking--”

“Not that Wisteria prick.” She chucks her chin toward the door, toward the vague direction of the dome beyond. “The other one. Seems like the real problem there might be getting him to stop talking.”

“Obi?” She blinks. He’s friendly, sure, but she wouldn’t say he’s been one to volunteer information.

“If that’s the one that’s down here every other day, talking my ears off with Suzu, then yes.” One rubber arm flails at her through the glass. “Now get out of here, and get those two little shits inside their tuna can before a Cat 5 can make it down the coast and make us regret it.”

When she steps into the hall, Shirayuki has every intention of following Garrack’s advice. It’s solid, after all; in a two-sided problem where one solution makes itself unavailable, the obvious answer is the best approach-- especially when in this labyrinth of a dome, there’s only so many places where he can hide.

She stops by the mess for a peace offering. Obi might be disposed to be friendly toward her at the moment, but she knows all too well how far good will will get her if she’s going to start rummaging around in things he’d rather keep cooped up behind that smile. Quality coffee and some contraband cookies might not mend the bridges she burns, but it’ll at least keep them standing while she’s walking over it.

It’s a good plan, a solid plan; she just doesn’t anticipate the company.

“Shirayuki.” Dark circles ring dark eyes, but Mitsuhide smiles just as warm as he always does, sprawled stiffly on the bench. “It’s good to see you.”

“I should be saying the same thing!” she gasps, her and her tea sliding in across from him at the formica table. “I thought you’d be out...” in your tuna can.

She bites her cheek, just hard enough to keep the words from spilling out. Sometimes she really, truly wishes she didn’t listen to Garrack quite as much; her mouth and Garrack’s words made a volatile mix. The sort that would get her a dishonorable discharge, if she weren’t a civilian-- or careful.

“We were. I mean, I was. Both Kiki and myself.” His body twists with a good, solid shake, eyes clearing. “Sorry, just had to exorcise the ghost. You know how it is.”

She doesn’t, but she does. There’s papers on the subject; reams of them-- Longevity of neural imprints in active rangers had been a favorite when she’d been in undergrad, as well as the far more entertaining, Ghost Drifting: How does one leave a ghost while still alive? It’s still novel to witness it, to see that spectral presence cling to the neural stem so long after--

“We just got back a little while ago.” He shifts, his right leg stretching long across the floor, knee bucking stiffly. “Kiki hit the rack, but I needed to, ah, take a walk.”

That’s his-- his good leg, as Kiki likes to call it, the half of him that becomes Redwood Dancer to pair with her left. That’s what makes them first line defense, even in an older Mark III; Kiki’s a real lefty, not one made by the drift. When Dancer throws a punch, both sides come full powered.

That’s what you get being the best of the best, Zen would say, envy and wistfulness thickening his voice, everyone knows they can count on you to serve.

That seems less like a good thing as Shirayuki sits across from it, watching the shadows shift in Mitsuhide’s eyes.

“Did you see it?” she asks, voice a whisper in the cavernous lair of the mess. “The kaiju?”

Mitsuhide grunts, shaking his head. “No, we were kept on standby. Got there after some of the boys in Hong Kong did, and they handled it.”

He doesn’t offer how well; she doesn’t ask.

“Ah,” she hums instead, hunching over her mug. “So it was out that way?”

“When they get that far down, yeah.” One of his large fingers wraps around the handle of his mug, bringing it to his mouth for a long, steady drag. “Not many wander out this way.”

“Alaska--”

“Yeah, there’s a few up north, and I think Seattle always has a good sweat when that happens, but...” His brows furrow, just a small wrinkle in the center of his forehead. “Not so much down here. Not anymore.”

Her palms press against warm ceramic, lips curling into a thin smile. “I guess we don’t have what they want. Whatever that is.”

His mouth gives a wryly twitch. “Thank God for small blessings.”

It would be nice to let the silence between them mellow, to allow herself a companionable respite after swallowing around her heart for half a day, but--

But there are things that won’t keep, no matter how much she’d like to set them aside, set them down even for just a moment. “Mitsuhide...”

He stiffens, the way a dog does when it hears its name shouted in the key of trouble. There’s two ways to respond to conflict, they used to say, fight or flight; years later they added freeze with as begrudging a reception as any change to common wisdom was given. But Mitsuhide does none of those; he just hunkers, eyes warm and dark and wary when they meet hers, hedged by hunched shoulders. The sort of man who grew up in a place where natural disasters are weathered in bathtubs and basements, or else watched from afar on front porches.

“I meant to talk to you.” Her fingers knit into the natural ridges of her mug; the only way to keep them from trembling. “After...after. I mean, not this, but before. The, um...”

It’s ridiculous how many calamities can cluster in a few hours. She’ll need to start numbering them to keep them all straight.

“The drift,” he rasps wearily. “Zen's talked about it with you, hasn’t he?”

Her mouth works; her duty to her profession says to keep it shut, to keep her patient’s business confidential, but her duty as a member of the human race, of a species that is growing more endangered by the year-- “He skipped his session.”

Shirayuki couldn’t have moved him if she hit him, but this rocks him back in his seat. “I’d been hoping...” He shakes his head, mouth curling into a rueful smile. “I thought I’d be the one trying to work something out of you.”

“Ah.” She bows her head, watching the leaves swirl in her tea. “So you haven’t had any luck either?”

Her shakes his head, disappointment stark in every sway. “He won’t talk about it. After he got out of the hanger he went and locked himself in his rack. He only agreed to come to the mess if we promised to drop the whole thing.”

Shirayuki winces. “I’d normally never ask, but when he didn’t show up to our usual appointment...”

Mitsuhide lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I don’t know why he’d do that. I’d give some of my teeth to let someone else listen to my head sometimes.”

She blinks. “You’re always welcome, if you wanted to.”

“No.” His mouth rucks up in a rueful curve. “I really couldn’t.”

“But--”

“The thing they don’t tell you before you get into that cockpit is--” he takes a deep breath, the air emptying out the tension in his shoulders-- “is that the second you hit the drift, all your secrets aren’t your own anymore.”

“Oh.” The drift is two minds laid bare to one another, the deepest form of trust, but in all her studies, she’d never thought what that meant. How tangled and deep a mind could become in things that weren’t theirs to know, weren’t their secrets to carry. “Can I ask you something?”

His eyebrows ruffle up an inch, curious. “Of course. Anything I can answer.”

“When you first came to the dome, you were...” Shirayuki bites her lips, considering. “You were Zen’s copilot. But then Kiki came...”

The PPDC might be the one that’s stamped on the letterhead, but the Wisterias are the spine of the jeager project as well as its face. Their neural net stretches far and wide through the Corp’s hierarchies, fingers in every pie, and although Zen might not be in the upper echelons of leadership, the sort of state secrets someone might glean from the casual details rattling around in his head...

Well, it’s a good thing the Seirans were just as entrenched.

“Why did you do it?” she asks finally, though it’s miles away from what she means. “Why change when you already...?”

“Ah, well...” Mitsuhide’s shoulders heave awkwardly. “It was an emergency, at first, and then...I don’t know how to explain it. We just fit. Not that I didn’t with Zen, but this was...”

He hesitates, smile edging towards a kind of self-deprecation that doesn’t quite fit him. “It was different. If that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” she admits. Not to her, at least, someone who has never been in a cockpit, who has never drifted over a set of pons and tried to make a connection. But to someone who has, who has spent the last half decade rotating through a list of hopefuls and throwing them all in the trash-- “But I think...maybe it could.”

Shirayuki would love to say that she’s experienced a perception shift, that a few words with Mitsuhide gave her a clarity that she needs to pore over before acting on, but the fact of it is-- she’s too anxious to approach Obi, pure and simple.

Not that he’s given her much cause; he’s scarce after that failure of a drift, but his absence lacks the marked purpose of Zen’s. It’s hard to find anyone after an attack; everyone’s on high alert, hypervigilant, waiting for another call to come like an aftershock. It’s never happened before, but to assume that means a double event is out of the question--

Well, humanity stopped making assumptions about what lurked beneath the Pacific the day Trespasser ripped the Golden Gate off its moorings.

She catches a glimpse of him every once and a while, always going the wrong way but with a smile to share before he disappears. He’s not avoiding her, he’s avoiding everyone else, and she’s just too much of a cog in the dome’s machinery to not be a casualty of it. It’s nothing personal, she’s sure, but with all the people giving her a wide berth lately, it’s hard not to feel that his absence is pointed.

Still, there are things that just won’t keep. She can’t just keep avoiding this because she’s afraid of one more rejection.

And that’s how she finds herself in the middle of the dome’s combat room, on the business end of Obi’s smirk.

“Doc,” he hums, kicking the end of his staff up to yoke his neck. He makes it look easy, like the jo is an extension of him rather than a separate piece. She can’t help but think of what he might do with a hundred tons of jeager strapped to him, how easy he might make it move. “Funny seeing you here.”

She nods, rocking on her toes. “It’s been a while.”

He swaggers toward her, stopping barely an arm’s length away, hip cocked. Sweat dews along every inch of him, his tank damp and clinging to the hard planes of his stomach, tighter than the lycra in her own gear. His pants swing low, leaving a sliver of skin between it and his shirt, and she--

She should really be looking elsewhere. He’s not a giant, not like Mitsuhide, but when she looks up, it’s a long way to meet his eyes. They’re laughing at her when she does.

“You’re not gonna get anything out of me, you know,” he says as if he’d like to see her try; a challenge rather than a defense. “What happens in the drift stays in the drift.”

Her mouth works; this time stuck less on the sweat crawling over his skin and more on how quickly she’s been made. “I didn’t say I was going to.”

“You had the look.” He shifts, hips drawing her gaze with them. When she glances back up, he seems to find that funny too. “Besides, why else would you come in here? Most shrinks I meet aren’t, hm, combat ready.”

“I-I work out!”

His eyebrows raise, mouth following suit. “That so?”

She flexes arm, baring what, in her humble opinion, is no small bicep. Kiki might have her beat, but in K-science terms she’s practically buff. “See?”

Obi slinks close, hunching over, jo and all, to give her offering a good squint. With a hum she’d like to think is at least mildly impressed, he straightens, suddenly so close she can smell the sweat on him and the faint whiff of his deodorant.

“Well then, I stand corrected.” His smile stretches Cheshire-wide as he steps aside, sweeping out a hand. “Don’t let me stop you.”

Shirayuki peers past him, fighting to keep the grimace from her face. She works out, sure, but more along the lines of slow and low. Yoga. Tai chi. Pilates. Things that promote mind and body balance. But even in the gym, all the equipment is meant for bulking muscle, for building the sort of bodies that can bear up a skyscraper. And the combat room...

Well the only equipment here is the jo in their rack and the tatami on the floor. This isn’t for people looking to do a pull up, it’s for rangers looking to spar.

“Tell you what, Doc,” Obi says, no small amount of amusement or pity in his voice. “I could use a cool down.”

His jo whips down from his shoulders, lightning fast, hands thrusting out in the air, and she--

Her hand rises to match, catching the jo mid-air. She sags under it, a little heavier than she expected from a stick that size, but keeps her feet under her. She glances back at Obi, wide-eyed, but he just lifts his brows, impressed. “How about we go a round, you and me?”

It’s a normal request-- maybe not to her, but the rangers certainly aren’t shy about taking conversations to the tatami. But Obi’s voice does something with it, pushes it down into a register that feels more mattress than mat, and she shivers as she lets the jo drop more naturally into her grip. “Me?”

“Well, I really thought you wouldn’t catch it.” His chin juts toward her staff. “But it looks like you at least know how to hold it.”

Her finger flex around the wood, settling against its smooth surface. “I’ve done it once or twice.”

A half dozen years ago, but he doesn’t need to know that.

His mouth twitches. “Great.”

Obi’s not a mountain of a man, not like Mitsuhide, but when he falls into stance, he could make himself one. It would take an earthquake to move him, and she has the world’s smallest lever. “Come at me.”

Shirayuki shuffles awkwardly on the mat, twisting the jo to rest on both her hands. It feels like she’s got two left ones holding it-- neither one of them are as good as Kiki’s-- but muscle serves her better than memory. Center yourself, Grampa told her, yanking her chest above her hips, feel the earth come to meet you. You’ll be part of it one day, and it’s ready.

Morbid, but it works. Her spine jolts into a straight line, weight teetering between her feet, and she takes her swing.

Obi doesn’t try to dodge. He could-- even in that split second, his muscles twitch, goading him to flee-- but he just raises his staff, a jolt she feels right down to her shoulders. The puny clack echoes in her ears. It’s nothing even close to how him and Zen were sparring.

“Go ahead.” He shifts his weight as she recovers, bracing himself. “Again.”

Right. Her feet flatten against the mat-- or at least they try to, pressing instead against the foam of her sneakers. Her sneakers that she’s still wearing, since she came in here thinking there would be an elliptical, or weights, or not this.

That won’t do at all. She toes them off, setting them at the edge of the tatami, the only spectators to her impending humiliation.

She hesitates, fingers peeling socks over her heels. Obi’s already said she won’t get any information out of him; she doesn’t need to do this. She could walk away right now, and the only consequence would be his teasing. And yet--

And yet, Shirayuki walks back, feet grounding against the weave beneath them. The jo settles between her hands. Obi grins.

When she moves again, it’s with more confidence, memory fueling her strike. He catches it again, but this time it doesn’t rattle her. At least, not until he moves too, viper fast, and then she’s scrambling again. She’s no noodle-armed K-science geek, no matter what Obi might say, but when she thrusts her staff up overhead to meet his swing, her arms tremble, teeth jangling in her mouth.

Obi retreats, amusement clinging to his lips, and she huffs. Maybe she can’t take the same sort of beating Kiki can, but she isn’t about to be some pushover.

She comes at him again, lower this time, on the outside. He’s not prepared-- she can tell the way his eyes widen-- but reflexes smooth his response, drawing her back with a few of his own strikes, and then--

Then it’s just trading blows. Not like his spar with Zen; he’s too skilled and she’s too inexperienced for this to be anything but a planned draw, for him to do anything but go easy on her. But still, still-- there’s a strange electricity every time they meet, more than just their jo rising to meet each other, an anticipation--

Obi steps back, brow furrowed. “Hm.”

Shirayuki’s panting, drenched, and he’s barely broken a sweat. “Is something wrong?”

It certainly doesn’t feel wrong to her.

“N-no.” He plucks her jo from her grip, the swagger gone from his hips as he mounts it on the wall beside his. “Just. Interesting.”

“Interesting?” she prompts hopefully.

Obi shrugs, like there’s an itch between his shoulders. “Did you need anything else, Doc?”

“I...” She bites down on the impulse to ask, to demand to know if he felt it too. “No. I should, um. Get going.”

“Nowhere to go but people to see, huh?” he laughs, but it’s weaker than his usual, stilted.

“Yeah,” she breathes, turning away. “Something like that.”

We just fit, Mitsuhide said with that strange look on his face, a yearning she knows now. If that makes sense.

“Obi?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounds distant, like it’s coming from another mouth, not her own. Maybe it’s just because she’s bent in half, working cotton over sweaty toes. Maybe it’s because it feels like she’s only working with half a body.

His head swivels, chin peeking over his shoulder. “Yeah, Doc?”

“It wasn’t you, was it?” He blinks, head tilting with confusion, and she clarifies, “It wasn’t your failure.”

His breath tumbles from his like wind over water; she swears she can feel the ripples of it even where she stands. “No,” he says, so soft it’s nearly lost over the rattle of the vents. “Not yet.”

The static fizzles on her skin, belly rocking as she bends to slip on her sneakers, and oh, Mitsuhide’s words might not have made sense before, but--

But she’s worried they’re starting to now.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #pacific rim au #my fic #this chapter ended up being much more of a beast than i thought #and this is WITH some scenes getting moved to next chapter for like...SPACE #but that's pretty much what took this so long #trying to rearrange this to cover some of the big points that HAD to be covered by Shirayuki POV #so that this was only like...6K instead of 8K and double the chapter length of any one before it #DEEP SIGH #this is a hobby i choose to do for fun

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