#Maycher

[eobe]

😱 I LOOOOVE ALL OF THIS! ✨🫶 You beautiful menaces can’t imagine how much this helps me right now ❤️‍🩹

Archer, ori‘vod! 💙🫶🩵 As I told you, the writing is amazing 🤩✨ And I‘m so excited how they‘ll manage to get them 🤯🙏 And another super tiny cameoooo of Eo and Owl Squad 🦉✨🫠 My heart always skips a beat when you do this! 🤩😱🥰

And my precious Foxwithadarkside 🫶 badassing with your art on top! 🤩✨ The faces 😂😎

Echaaj'la

Part 2

(Part 1)

The continuation of this collaborative “fix-it”, post GGN tale. This has turned into a collaborative writing exercise between myself and @feralferrule, with input from a couple other vode. The thing I loved most about GGN was the collaboration and the reciprocal inspiration. Thanks so much to all of you for the ride!

Hang in there BIV boys, we’re coming!

Word Count ~5400

Synopsis - Joined by a couple friends, Archer and Choy get to know each other a little better while planning how they’re going to extract Hexx, Veetch, and Mayday from Barton IV without altering the timeline. Meanwhile, the Barton IV boys continue to freeze, still utterly baffled by their GGN ‘dreams’, but at least they were good dreams. 😙

Warnings: We’re trying to rope a bunch of chaos together (including some very non-canon shenanigans) and make it all behave. Let’s just go with it. 🤫 Some angsty-ness and tender moments. Archer isn’t sure how to process her feelings or worries. She needs a hug. Or maybe more of that pink drink.

Mando’a Words

Al’verde - commander

Aruetiise - Outsiders

Beskar’gam - armour

Beskaryc kar’ta - beskar heart

Copi - shortened from copikla, “cute”. Copi is Archer’s young rancor.

Haar Trak - “The Arrow”, Archer’s Kom'rk-class starfigher.

Kar’ta -  heart

Kov’nyn - the Mandalorian “Keldabe kiss”. The touching of foreheads, usually by helmeted individuals. Can be used in combat (I.e., a violent headbutt), but when performed gently, this gesture is an act of affection and trust (not exclusively romantic), and demonstrates a bond between the individuals involved. 

Ner - my

Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra - My soul is the night sky, and you are the moon and stars

Olarom - Welcome

Shab’la - screwed-up

Resol’nare - “The six actions”. Six tenets, central to the Mandalorian way of life.

Yaim’sik - home/house

Barton IV, Imperial Depot

Another frigid morning.  Not that there were ever warm mornings, but he’d settle for a plain cold one once in a while. Commander Mayday rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up from his cot. A thin skim of ice on the drab, grey duracrete walls of his bunk room shimmered in the pale light beginning to stream through the tiny window, and he could see each exhale as they puffed out in a swirling cloud in front of him. 

This was a miserable place to be. He and his squad had been assigned to guard the remote outpost and its cargo crates over a year ago. The base came under constant attack from raiders - local people, and over the months most of the squad had been lost in the conflicts. Morale was at an all-time low, the Empire had all but abandoned them to their icy fates, and all of his squad had been lost apart from two troopers - Hexx and Veetch.

A faint reflection of light caught his eye as he bent to pick up his armour from its neat stack on the floor. The pendant around his neck, a copper coloured metal hexagon, was swinging and catching the orange glow from his small, barely functional, heating device.  He paused to consider the simple pendant. It hung on a leather cord and had faint writing etched on it in runes he recognized as Mandalorian, but could not read.

He’d woken up one morning, about 6 months past and had discovered it hanging around his neck. The clothing strewn across the floor was not his usual blacks and his favourite, well his ONLY, pair of sunglasses had been missing.  He’d stormed into Hexx and Veetch’s quarters demanding to know what trouble they had been up to, only to find them arguing about some wild theory. About a dream. A dream with eerie similarities to the one he’d had that night, and had continued having since.  

The dream was difficult to remember, he had only brief images left when he awoke. A red rose woven into flowing brown hair.  A tattoo in the shape of his pendant, etched on a pale sternum. Soft hands running over his hair and along his cheeks. His forehead resting gently against another.  He always felt warm and a little less alone when he woke from this dream, but its appearance along with that of the pendant were utterly perplexing.  

Dreams couldn’t explain the appearance and disappearance of physical objects. He must have spent too much time trapped at this miserable base, he was loosing his grip on reality.  He’d spent several days trying to figure out what the kark had happened, but eventually gave it up for some quirk in the force. All he knew for sure, was that his new pendant was inexplicably dear to him (but couldn’t, sadly, shade his eyes from the glaring sun).  He rarely took it off, and kept it hidden in the collar of his blacks.

With a sigh, he resigned himself once again to possibly never finding the answers to all of the questions he had. He tucked his pendant into his collar and began to kit up in his amour, wondering if the reinforcements he’d requested 28 rotations ago would be arriving finally.

***

In the adjacent barracks Hexx and Veetch were also preparing for the day. Veetch was rummaging through his small crate of belongings when he came across an item of ladies lingerie. He considered the lacy scrap of cloth for a moment. It still faintly held the scent from it’s presumable former owner.  Together he and Hexx had a matching set.  But Hexx never wanted to talk about their secret treasures.  It felt like he’d gotten his in a dream, but that couldn’t be right - the fabric was real, he could hold it in his hands.  The more he tried to puzzle out the answer, the more foggy his dream-like memory became. It had to be just a dream.  A really good dream.  Like a children’s tale, full of mystery and magic.  He brushed the lacy fabric with his fingers one last time and then stood and headed out into the chill of the base. 

Hexx followed him silently, his thoughts also on the inexplicable appearance of items he and his brother kept secret. Veetch had some wild theories about the mysterious appearances and the recurring dreams he had about a mystery woman, but had given up trying to connect the dots after their Commander had reprimanded him for making a huge, slightly insane string board on the wall of their barracks.  The memory of the look on Mayday’s face when he’d first seen the huge art project still brought a smile to Hexx’s face.

Though he’d never admit it, Hexx had similar dreams, and often carried his treasure - a smaller scrap of lacy black fabric than Veetch had - with him through the day, convinced that it gave him good luck.  He surreptitiously checked for its presence in one of his belt boxes.  It was there, and the woman he’d gotten it from had to be out there too, she had to be real.  He felt assured it was going to be a good day.

***

Kyrimorut, Mandalore 

“This way, watch your head.” Archer held open a low door that curiously appeared to be hewn directly into the trunk of a vast veshok tree growing next to a pristine lake at the northern edge of the village.  Choy ducked inside the door and found herself in an expansive, partially underground space.  Numerous starships of varying sizes rested inside, gleaming in the low, artificial light.

“Wow.  Mandalorians really love their secret, hidden spaces, huh?” said Choy.  Archer chuckled.  “Well, this is a secret stronghold for some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters.  We don’t exactly want to hang out an olarom sign for the Empire.” Archer smirked.

Archer had just received a message from Jaing, the information specialist they’d visited not an hour before.  He’d informed them that an Imperial shuttle was scheduled to deploy to Barton IV two standard rotations from now.  They didn’t have much time to waste so they’d come to prepare to leave for Barton IV.

Archer led her in the direction of the large hangar door, which appeared to open directly out from the side of the tree under which the hangar was build, opposite the small door they had just entered by.  There was a medium-sized starship parked here, its wings in an upright position.  As they approached the side of the ship, a woman in dark crimson coveralls slid out from underneath it wiping grease from her hands with a rag.

“Choy, this is Parja.  Parja, Choy,” Archer introduced.  She turned to Choy.  “Parja is our resident mechanic and general technical specialist.  She’s Fi’s partner. Parja,” she said turning back towards the other woman, “thanks for doing my preflight-check on such short notice.  I’m afraid we’ve have to depart unexpectedly quickly.”

Choy studied the fierce-looking mechanic.  She looked pretty familiar, and she knew they’d met briefly. “Oh! We met at GAR Goth Night,” she realized out loud.  

Parja raised an eyebrow, “Where? ‘GAR’ as in Grand Army of the Republic?”

Choy looked questioningly at Archer who nodded [[She’s safe, just remember I’m on the down low.]] Choy gave her a subtle wink and turned back to Parja.

“Parja, I’m glad to really meet you. I only just saw you across the dance floor at 79’s on Coruscant months ago. You were dancing with your husband and his brother and Archer.” Parja squinted her eyes and looked just over Choy’s head.  “Everyone was dressed in black and the clone bar was decorated all spooky? Do you remember?�� 

She shook her head, casting her gaze around, “I, I thought I had some dreams kind of like that. Fi hasn’t mentioned anything like it,” she looked at Archer. “You were there? With us?” Archer nodded.

“I can help you remember,” Choy offered, holding up her hand. “I’m no Jedi but I can do the same stuff they can. The place had some special power over it that night that gave us all amnesia, but someone helped me remember and I helped Archer.” 

Again Parja looked to Archer for confirmation. 

Choy continued, “May I jog your memory?” She held out her hand, “I promise the rest of your mind is safe, I won’t go poking around or anything,” Choy smiled. Parja nodded and placed her hand on Choy’s. Choy stepped closer, placed her other hand on Parja’s and began radiating calm and reassuring energy toward her. 

“I will show you images, [[of the club from my memories.]] Choy switched to speaking through the force. She sent safe welcoming energy into Parja’s brain, visualizing a mist lifting off of her mind. Choy then projected her own memory of Parja arriving at 79’s with Rav, her outfit, her husband, the dancing. [[it was a theme night at 79’s, gothic, melancholy, romantic]] she showed her the other patrons, the decor, the performers on stage. She coaxed out Parja’s suspended memories frozen by the strange fogginess that she could feel in the force around people who had been at GGN. 

Parja drew a sharp breath, “Yes, that’s like my dream. Oh, this all really happened. I was there!”

Choy continued. [[Archer met a clone commander in the GAR - well Empire now - Mayday, who went through quite the effort to woo her.]] Choy showed Mayday giving her the rose and a snippet of how they looked at each other.

Archer watched Parja’s expression soften from surprise and wonder to something happier as she caught Archer’s eye. Choy felt Parja’s caring and gladness directed toward her friend, and noticed Archer crossing her arms, cheeks colouring a bit.

[[And I- well, I hit it off with his men.]] Choy carefully parsed the more intimate memories from her projection into Parja’s mind, but some of the emotion slipped through, the infatuation, the deep concern. Parja’s attention was back on Choy, Archer noting her raised eyebrows and Choy’s blush.  

[[I know what terrible things are going to happen to these men, and have come here to ask Archer for her help to rescue them from the Imperial base they are stationed at.]] Choy showed her memory of the images of Barton IV, the explosion, the row of helmets, Mayday with a heavy heart, the avalanche, Crosshair, and the cold, indifferent Imperial officer. Mayday dead in the snow. 

“The Empire is throwing clones away like trash, abusing them, even experimenting on them now.” Choy said out loud with restrained passion, blinking back tears. She released Parja’s hand with a quick squeeze to bring her back to the here and now. “Thank you for listening,” Choy added and stepped back out of Parja’s personal space.

Parja blinked slowly and then looked to Archer. “So now you’re flying off to some Imperial installation, without a plan, or backup, to extract three random clones?”

Archer scoffed. ”Who said I don’t have a plan?” 

”Does your “plan” involve a crate of thermal detonators?”

Archer shrugged non-commitally, a huge grin on her face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scorch.” Parja smirked, then turned serious. “But you know better than to think we’ll let you go to infiltrate an Imperial base by yourself, Keb. I’m coming with you and we’re bringing Fi too,” she continued, walking off.  

“Your ship’s grounded until we come back!” she shouted over her shoulder as she left through the small door, heading towards the Skirata home.

Choy looked at Archer quizzically. “Keb?”

”My name.  It’s Kebii’tra.  “Archer” is a nickname of sorts.”

Choy nodded as she considered the irony that her own name now was a nickname derived from Archer’s language. She looked around at the space and wondered about the construction of the place and how these enormous compounds couldn’t be older than the huge trees above. 

She looked at the comically small door that Parja had just left through and tipped her head. “So if you want to use the force on this adventure, you can just blame me. But that Parja’s a good egg. Would you ever feel safe coming out to her as a force user? Why’d you tell me anyway? You have that pink booze they were passing out? That stuff was something else.” Choy waved a hand up dismissively, and cast her gaze around Archer’s ship. “You don’t have to answer any of this, I’m just thinking out loud right now. But if she’s going to help- which is great, don’t get me wrong, I just think that says a lot about how much she cares about you.” She turned to Archer and looked her in the eyes, “Now, I’ll take your secret to my grave but I don’t think you should have to.”

Archer shrugged in Choy’s direction.  “They liberate and take in defected clones here.  It’s part of the reason this place exists, and it’s how they live by the Resol’nare.  But Mandalorians have a long… tumultuous history with force users.  The conflicts between us have shaped our culture for centuries.  Distrust of the Jedi runs deep in our blood, and Mandalorian force users may be hidden away or shunned. It’s different here, people are less traditional, obviously, but I don’t have a great many friends and I don’t want to lose any because I’m different.”

Choy didn’t fail to notice the slightly pained look that briefly crossed Archer’s face.  

”And to your second question,” she said abruptly changing the subject, “You threatened me.” Choy received a teasingly wicked grin. “It was only fair I let you know what you were getting yourself into,” she said with a wink. 

Continuing, she said, “Since you mentioned them, those pink drinks - what did they do to us? They made me feel strange. Like I wasn’t quite myself in some ways. I did some things I wouldn’t normally have, and everything I felt seemed exaggerated. It was all so intense by the end of the night. ” 

“Hold up,” Choy laughed, “Is it really a threat if I don't know you can hear me?” she smirked at the other woman. “Anyway, yeah we were definitely in an altered state,” she squinted her eyes and thought back to that night. “I’ve had a while to reflect on this and I believe what I was feeling was genuine. Like, I was really annoyed with Jesse, but I was already annoyed with him. I avoided Echo after the drinks because I knew my heart would break in a million pieces if I saw him. I felt very platonic toward the Bad Batchers and all the ladies felt like sisters I never had. It was like I felt everything stronger, but it all came from me.”   

She shifted her weight to one leg and held a hand out. “But would I have jumped in the sack with two men had I been sober?” She shrugged, “Possibly. Probably- honestly,” she nodded, “ that’s exactly what I would have done then. I was still hormonal like a tooka in heat- sorry, I know, TMI. But between the force being new for me and the stupid GAR-issue birth control implant, I was a hot mess. I still have to focus every day just to manage it, but it’s better. I wasn’t eased into the force from birth like you or anyone else in this galaxy. Yoda said it’s the nature of power to fill voids. Apparently I was a void,” Choy added sardonically, eyebrows raised. 

She looked at Archer again who seemed not at all reassured. Choy sighed, “Here’s what I think- whatever you did with Mayday, that came from your heart. It didn’t feel like regular drunk inhibition to me and you didn’t seem drugged. I’ve seen that and your mind felt clear. We’ll just have to see how we feel about the guys when we get them, and how they feel about us, too. Who knows, maybe we just end up rescuing them and it’s like catch and release.”

She paused and stepped a little closer to Archer, “Hey, nothing you did was inherently bad. Do Mandalorians have cultural rules, taboos about this sort of thing? Or your own rules you have for yourself?”

“There’s no cultural taboo. Far from it.”  Archer paused, looking a little uncomfortable. “I’m just…not usually into the casual scene I guess.  I don’t really regret anything, I’m just still unsure how things seemed to move so quickly for me. And of what that might mean.”

Choy sensed something behind Archer’s words, but let it be for the time being.

Archer continued, unprompted. “I gave him my kar’ta…” she admitted. “He was still loyal to the Empire, I couldn’t tell him about this place,” she gestured around them, “couldn’t yet offer him, them, a place to get away to.  But still, I gave it to him.”

“Your kar’ta?” Choy asked her, unsure of what she meant, but sensing a weight to the admission. 

“My heart. My beskar heart - from my armour,” she hedged slightly.  “He hung it around his neck, and wore it as a pendant the rest of the night.”

“I’ve read that piece is special.  It symbolizes the heart and spirit of the Mandalorian people, right?”  She eyed Archer knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she trailed off, apparently unprepared to go further.

”Hey,” Archer began anew, once again changing the course of the conversation, “since we have a bit of time before Parja comes back with Fi, let's head back to my yaim’sik for a minute.  I should introduce - or maybe reintroduce - you to someone.”

“Yes, of course,” Choy said a little absentmindedly. She followed Archer out of the little door and back through the woods. She was considering how deeply affected Archer seemed to be by her dalliance with Mayday. Choy felt deep guilt seeping up. A memory of Hexx throwing the back room key to Mayday at her suggestion played across her mind. She realized that she had drawn Archer into the storm she was caught in, her lack of boundary and control stoking that far deeper power than the force, the fires of desire, the very thing driving all the conflict and war for power around them. She realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here just for the boys, but for Archer, too. She felt a strong resolve to help Archer regain her sense of integrity and to set things right. 

Sensing her inner turmoil, Archer looked back at Choy who had straggled behind with her thoughts. Choy just smiled and quickened her pace. “So who’s the mystery person? Someone from GGN, I’d imagine?”

”Oh yes, I think you’ll quite like her.”

***

Hyperspace, en-route from Mandalore to Barton IV

Archer reclined in the pilot’s chair of her Kom’rk-class starfighter - Haar Trak  - content for the moment to rest and process some of the memories and information Choy had unlocked. They were presently speeding through hyperspace on their way from Mandalore to Barton IV, a journey that was nearly complete. 

Parja and Fi had joined them, Parja being convinced that they would need the help.  Or maybe she was just eager for another opportunity to see some of their new gear tested in action.  She wasn't sure.  Both Parja and Fi had spoken with Choy and were relieved of the fog over their memories.  They were now seated towards the rear of the ship, conversing quietly.

 Choy was seated beside her in the copilot’s chair, apparently lost within her own thoughts. She’d made it clear to them that in order to maintain the integrity of future events,  the three clones must be extracted without the knowledge of anyone on Barton IV, and that they must all be believed to have been killed in action. This was going to be… interesting.

The Imperial clone trooper known as Crosshair would soon be arriving on Barton IV with one Lieutenant Nolan. Crosshair had been at GGN and had seemed to know Mayday then.  It was curious that this day would be the first time they’d be meeting, according to Choy. Now that she was thinking of the people she’d seen that night, she realized there were quite a few people there who seemed to be from another time.  Curious. She wondered, not for the first time, what purpose the minstrels had had for bringing all of those beings together the way they had. What a story that must be.

This mission to free the three steadfast clones trapped on Barton IV was the right thing to do, and aligned with Kyriomorut’s objective of liberating and bringing more vode to the stronghold. But she’d also promised Mayday she’d come for him, and she felt compelled to fulfill that promise - no matter the ultimate outcome.  Sure, he hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant and probably didn’t remember anything about that night, but still she’d given her word.

 Choy had made it clear that all three men had experienced much in the past months and would be happy to move on to a different life, if given the chance.  It was time to fulfill her promise, then.  She recalled the last few moments of GGN, and felt her resolve strengthen. The memory played before her eyes.

Mayday hugged her close at a table near the bar, she was seated sideways across his lap. He laid his head against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as she waved to Eo and her squad as they departed for the night. 

She looked down at him and stroked his hair soothingly with her free hand as the tumult of emotions roiling inside him washed over her. He’d seemed lost in thought, trapped in a loop of “what-if’s”.

“Are you tired, Al’verde?” she’d asked. 

He’d looked up at her, his large eyes tinged with emotions she didn’t want to name. It was a heartbreaking look, and one she couldn’t deny held more than just weariness.

 “No.” 

“Then what’s wrong, ner kar’ta?”

“The club is closing soon.” He paused for a long moment, searching her gaze and clutching her more tightly to him. “And I don’t want to leave.” 

She’d looked up then, noticing that indeed the club was beginning to clear out, patrons saying their farewells and making their way to the exit. Hexx and Veetch had been hovering nearby, both looking dispirited after Choy’s departure. It was time for them to go as well. 

Setting her nearly empty glass of pink-drink down on the table behind her she pressed her palm to Mayday’s cheek, running her thumb back and forth softly. He leaned into the touch.  

“Shab,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of her own, “this one is the call for help that has brought me more trouble.” What was it that made these three bearded troopers so sweet and hard to deny? And why-oh-why must they still be with the Empire? Why couldn’t she just offer him and his men a safe place to go?”

She’d brought her forehead to rest against his in a gentle kov’nyn and said softly, “Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra.” She knew that he’d probably understood only a few of the words but she could feel their impact on him nonetheless. 

Their fast-growing attachment to each other was probably obvious to everyone in the club.  She should have kept her distance, knowing they would inevitably have to part - maybe permanently - at the end of the night, but she’d been as helpless in the end to the mysterious atmosphere of GGN as everyone else.

”Come with me?” he’d asked then. 

Before she’d been able formulate a response Hexx and Veetch appeared over his shoulder and cleared their throats.

”Uhm, commander?  Sir?” Veetch spoke hesitantly.

Mayday’s posture stiffened immediately, and he nearly growled his response. “I know, Veetch.”

Mayday sighed once again before rising from the chair and setting her on her feet. He took her hand in his, and as a group they walked towards the doors. He paused with her, eyeing the two troopers meaningfully. They walked through the doors with a nod… and seemed to fade in a pink-tinged mist that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

What the kark? She hadn’t questioned that at the time. Mayday hadn’t seemed to notice.

He was hesitating, his reluctance to go etched in every line of his posture and rippling off him in strong pulses. His eyes said everything he wouldn’t voice. She squeezed his hand and tried to send a subtle wave of calm reassurance to him. He took a shaky breath and crushed her to his chest.  She squeezed him back as he said, “I’ll comm you. Promise.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. Mand’alor, that cheeky smile was contagious. She returned it with a wink and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget, Al’verde. I’ll come after you if you do, and I’ll bring Copi,” she threatened teasingly.

“Promise?”

“Ni haat’mitir.”

Eyes shining, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned quickly and passed through the doorway, fading away in swirling pinkish mist.

Again she hadn’t questioned that decidedly not normal departure at the time. 

And of course, he hadn’t contacted her.  She’d promised to come after him, and now she was. But the uncertainty she felt about where would they would stand after all the time that had passed was distracting. She sighed quietly.  “Stop it,” she chided herself.

It didn’t matter what happened after.  Getting the three men away from the Empire, saving their lives, giving them a chance to live and make their own choices was all that mattered. She was a professional.  She was not going to let these dikut’la pink-mist generated emotions and worries get in the way of completing this mission with everyone intact.

Clearing her throat, Archer turned fully in her seat to face Choy. ”Show me again, the events of the afternoon when we’ll have to get your two lads out.”  Choy took Archer’s offered hand and sent images of Crosshair overhearing an urgent comm message from Veetch relaying that Hexx had been taken down by raiders, followed by images of a shuttle stationed in front of the base exploding and sending a man in clone trooper armour - Veetch - flying through the air.

Parja and Fi, overhearing the activity joined the planning in the cockpit.

”It seems as though there are only a couple minutes between when Veetch reports Hexx to have been taken down at the back of this depot and when he himself is caught up in this shuttle explosion near the southwestern end.” Archer said, deep in thought.

“Yes, and Crosshair will be closely watching the shuttle explosion from the eastern watchtower, while Mayday is investigating in the northwestern area.  The light from the detonation will blind Crosshair temporarily but only for a few seconds.  There won’t be much time to get to Veetch without him noticing us,” said Choy.

“Hm.  We’ll have to split up into two teams to get to both men in time, I think,” Archer returned. “If we can covertly station one team on the east side near where the raiders make initial hard contact with Hexx and Veetch behind the barracks building, they can provide the boys with some subtle non-lethal cover fire and transport Hexx to the ship after Veetch breaks away to the south towards the shuttle.  A covert stun-shot on Hexx while Veetch has his back turned should maintain his story of being taken down and prevent him from actually being shot.”

Choy looked slightly aghast at the idea of deliberately stunning Hexx, but said, “I’m a pretty good shot, I can probably manage that.”

Fi brightened.  “Looks like you’re teaming up with me!  I’ve heard I’m ok with a blaster rifle.” He winked. Parja rolled her eyes fondly.

“Make sure you’re not firing unless you really need to.  Stun bolts will be really obvious and if anyone notices, your cover will be blown”, Parja added. “But what about the other man, Veetch?”

Archer crossed her arms. “You and I will get him.  This might be a good chance to try out that new remote override device you guys been working on. You up for a covert installation and remote “self-destruction” of an imperial shuttle?”

“You know it.” Parja smiled.  She was always game for testing out new tech. Especially if it caused a little mayhem for the Empire.

If we detonate that shuttle just a bit earlier than what Choy’s seen, it’ll still provide the flash of light we need for visual cover, and it’ll throw Veetch up into the right spot without it being fatal for him.  If my timing is right, I should be able to jet in and snatch him from the air as he’s blown back away from the shuttle.” Archer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose the intensity of the explosion may be enough to explain the fact that he is suddenly missing too.”

“Wait,” Choy interjectected, “you can carry the weight of an armoured man while flying your jetpack?” asked Choy a bit doubtfully.

“I once scooped up a fully Katarn-armoured commando.  Dropped him in a mud pit.  It was hilarious,” Archer reflected with a smile. 

“You… what?” Choy blinked incredulously.

“He called Copi ugly.”  Archer shrugged. “Anyway, these skinny lads shouldn’t be a problem”.

“Wow, ok.”  Choy blinked.  “Oh!  We’ll have to make sure some armour pieces stay behind, or at least their helmets.” Archer looked at Choy questioningly. “Trust me,” said Choy.  

Archer shrugged. “Very well.”

Fi wondered, “The base’s perimeter sensor array may be problematic for us trying to stage ahead of time. Do you have an explosive plan to deal with that too?” 

Archer considered for a moment.  “If what Choy’s shown us is accurate, their sensors are shab’la.  But we may be safest to get into position after the raiders have triggered the alarm themselves. Timing will be tight, but we’ll avoid detection, save time, and it should be workable with all the chaos, right?”

“The larger concern though is the likelihood that those troopers will have no memory of us and will probably resist our abduction efforts. Choy, can you remedy that before they regain consciousness?”

“They should be conscious for me to help them remember. I think I can handle them though.” Choy smiled at the group reassuringly.

“And Mayday?” Archer asked gravely.  “When can we get Mayday out?”

Choy glanced to the side for a moment, before returning her gaze to meet Archer’s. “Mayday has to believe that Hexx and Veetch are gone.  He has to stay with Crosshair for a bit longer. Just until the next morning. It’s Crosshair befriending Mayday, being saved by him, and then witnessing what he thinks is Mayday’s death that lets him move past the Empire. It seems cruel, but I believe it has to happen.  For the sake of a lot of lives.”

There was a long silence, as the group looked at each other. Archer felt deeply unsettled.  “We have to allow him to be injured and then appear to die under these horrible circumstances? What if he does die?”

She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if she had to witness that.  

”I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” responded Choy immediately.  “At least not right there, like I showed you.  Fi interjected “He certainly will suffering from hypothermia, which in its final stages can cause loss of consciousness. Pulse and respirations can be difficult to detect too. We will need to get him quickly to the ship and stabilize any injuries he’s got from the avalanche.  He’ll probably need the bacta tank back home.”

[[I believe you can get to him in time, and we can look after him and Hexx and Veetch.  It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.]]  Choy was looking at Archer, and she felt her trying to convey confidence and reassurance. “We can do this,” Choy then said aloud to the group.

The ship’s navicomputer emitted an auditory tone before dropping the craft out of hyperspace.  The icy visage of Barton IV loomed large in the viewscreen.  Archer looked at her hastily assembled rescue squad and nodded. 

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Tagging same folks as last time - let me know if it’s a bother! @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @foxwithadarkside @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01

[auveiss]

Soooo been doing some monochrome sketches commission this past few days and bhoi there’s like a looot, i need to catch my breath haha ^^.Thank you so much to those who commissioning in <3. Doing this is pretty new to me and had lot’s of fun!

Commissioner from top left to the end is Benji Maycher (sketch 1, 2, and 3), Tysavarin, Miinikit, Sergei, Megoslyn, and Aochi Yoruneko.

Art Tag | Ko-fi | Artstation | Deviantart | Twitter | Youtube

[rebaobsessivelywrites]

Lies an Ties that Bind Us

You can find this series here on AO3.

Fandom: Leverage (TV) and Highlander: the Series (TV)

Series Description: A series that will be five or more one-shots about one or more of the Leverage members being immortal. They will stand alone.

Series Warnings: cannon-typical violence, temporary character death, character death, original characters

One-shot word count: 6,328

One-shot warnings: nothing I can think of... (no OCs seen in this one)

Summary: Nate and Jim have been friends for a very long time. They just don't always know how to show it. Now, they're each neck deep in their own form of trouble, but they can only help each other so much.

Please read the fic! Masks and Pasts that Haunt Us, more to come, master list. And let me know if you want to be tagged.

Nate jogged through the lobby of the impressive sky scraper, trusting Eliot to handle the terrorist goons, focused on a single goal. A steady buzz rattled just behind his eyes, guiding him as he exited a final door to the sight of a black sedan pulling away with purpose. As far as Nate was concerned, the car could be a minivan and he’d still know that it was that car that he needed to follow.

Thinking on his feet, Nate slipped past the valet and into a newly parked, and rather elegant, red sports car. It would do. Once he was speeding down the road, he spared a thought for the con.

“Ok, we’re done; everyone out,” Nate ordered, certain his com would pick it up, “Hardison, Eliot’s here— ground floor —find him, free Sophie. Everyone’s in the extraction points.”

“Woah, woah, Eliot’s here?” Hardison’s voice echoed in his ear.

“Yeah, just follow the trail of terrorists, you won’t miss him,” the mastermind assured his hacker.

“Where you going?” the hacker moved on to the next issue.

Nate allowed himself a shadow of a smile, “I’m going after Sterling.”

“Where’s he going?” Hardison persisted.

“Well, he’s escaping with the target.”

“How’d Sterling get the weight?” Parker pitched in, sounding out of breath.

“No. The real target.” Satisfied his team had the situation under control, he didn’t wait for any sort of response. He simply pulled his earpiece out with one hand a stuffed it in his pocket, before refocusing on the task at hand and the humming in his head. He didn’t need an audience for this.

There. A black sedan—that was the one. Nate hit the gas, in hot pursuit. As though sensing his renewed pursuit, the sedan whirled around a corner. Unperturbed, the mastermind hit the break and spun the wheel, hurling around the corner at break-neck speed, tires screeching as they slid across the pavement underneath him. Ahead he could see the black sedan accelerating and swerving, paying no mind to the yellow lines. Tongue pressed against his teeth in concentration, Nate gunned the gas and shifted the stick, rapidly gaining in his (stolen) flashy red sports car.

The two cars toyed with each other, swerving back and forth as the black sedan repeatedly blocked the sports car from slipping past. Finally, though, Nate saw and opening and hit the gas with all he was worth, speeding past the larger car in a blur. For two heart beats Nate continued straight, before hitting the break with even more gusto than he had the gas, swerving to a stop directly in the path of the sedan. Calmly, the thief turned in his seat to observe his quarry grind to a stop mere feet from where he sat.

With a faint smirk gracing his lips, still riding high on adrenaline, Nate stepped from his car as the other driver mirrored his actions. The scowl on Sterling’s face was legendary. Nate could count on one hand the number of times he had seen this particular flavor of the sour man’s displeasure. See, this flavor was the most real and the most dangerous of them all.

“You going to leave without saying goodbye?” Nate poked, adjusting his suit jacket.

Sterling’s scowl deepened, darkening the harsh lines outlined on his face in the scorching sunlight. “Nate,” the man greeted his old friend with something just short of a growl. This was the most righteous of anger—the anger they only ever showed for family.

But, Nate being Nate, he had no sense of self-preservation (being immortal did that to you), and kept poking, “Honestly, Sterling. I was hoping we were done with this.”

“And what, exactly,” the Interpol agent enunciated in his ever so careful accent, “is ‘this’?”

“The lies, Jim, the lies,” the mastermind leaned back onto his stolen vehicle, easily mimicking relaxation and concealing the slight pang of hurt he hadn’t even known he had been harboring.

“I had to get my informant out,” Sterling argued, eyes narrowing slightly, “When Olivia’s mother died, she turned on Livingston— fed Interpol everything we needed.”

“Stop insulting me, Sterling,” the thief cut in, causing Sterling’s eyebrows to shoot up.  “I knew she was the informant as soon as I found the source of the buzz.” Nate paused and searched his friend’s face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure out she was your daughter?”

Sterling’s face was suddenly and completely blank. “You know that’s not true,” the other immortal murmured, uncharacteristically subdued.

Nate shook his head, his heart giving a twang in sympathy, “It’s true in every way that matters,” he argued just as softly.

Sterling said nothing, his face still painfully blank.

After a beat of silence, Nate sighed, “But, why? You used us, you manipulated the team. You lied to me. Again. Was it too soon to hope for honest friendship? Did last time even qualify?”

Sterling’s jaw ticked. “Would you have come to Dubai if I had told you?” he asked pointedly, trying to redirect the conversation.

“No. No, you know I would have, but that’s not what this is about, Jim.” Once again, Nate emphasized the name. This time, Sterling flinched. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“No. I’m talking about before that,” Nate continued, “Back when we were last friends—this most recent time, when we worked together, drank together, watched each other’s backs….” Nate shut his eyes for a split second, “You had a wife and daughter, and I didn’t know. Why?”

“Because it was my fault they left,” Sterling offered, voice quiet once more, “And I knew it.”

Nate nodded in understanding. “They found out about the Game.” It wasn’t a question.

“Sharron thought it was safer they move on,” Sterling shrugged, “I didn’t argue.”

“Not even for Olivia?”

“She deserved to have a normal life, Nate. I wouldn’t take that from her.”

“What changed?” Nate asked with an honest curiosity, “Besides Livingston being dirty, that is.”

Sterling shrugged, “Sharron died; Olivia reached out.”

“And?” he pushed off the car to stand straight once more.

Sterling’s gaze snapped up to meet his. “And what?”

“We both know you’d need more than that, Greg,” Nate veiled the old barb against the MacGregor clan with a jovial tone.

“Don’t call me that,” he hissed and took a step forward, a brogue slipping into his voice as he continued, “I will’na allow you to insult ma’ clan ev’n now—”

“Easy, Jim,” Nate interrupted, “Just tell me what has you spooked.”

Sterling’s lips thinned.

Nate scowled, “I just want to help, you stubborn bastard! You have a new pre-immortal student—you can’t be looking over your shoulder and fielding challenges right now!”

“This does not concern you, Neil,” the other man growled, carefully enunciating once again.

Nate huffed angrily, “Be logical, Jim! You can’t—”

Their slowly escalating argument was effectively cut short by a car door opening and slamming shut.

Sterling whirled around, “No, get back in the car—”

“He didn’t have a choice! You can’t challenge him—he didn’t have a choice!” Olivia interjected, attempting to diffuse the situation she perceived, “It’s not safe here. I was in danger and he’s my dad. I don’t care what you people say; he’s my dad and I need him. What wouldn’t you do to save your kid?!”

“Olivia!” Sterling admonished her, likely knowing how hard that barb hit Nate, how it skewered him like a hot rod, bringing the all too recent death of Sam back to the fore-front of his awareness.

Olivia glared at her father, tears glistening in her eyes, “No! This isn’t ok, dad. You were just protecting me from Livingston and Maycher!”

“Charles Maycher?” Nate asked sharply. The man was a well-known headhunter who went after pre-Immortals, capturing, torturing, killing, and finally—sometimes after years—beheading them. The only reason he was still in the Game was because he had no honor, using guns and poison indiscriminately, and was unnaturally slippery and good at disappearing.

Olivia and Sterling’s reactions were telling; Olivia blanched, and Sterling instinctually moved closer to her.

Nate let out a colorful curse in old Irish Gaelic. “James bloody MacGregor,” he hissed, “I will not allow you to do this by yourself.”

“And I told you, Neil,” the other immortal hissed right back, “This does not concern you!”

“Of course this concerns me!” Nate snapped, “I will not allow my oldest friend to be stabbed in the back by a snake!”

“And how, exactly, would you explain it to you little team?” Sterling sneered.

Nate threw his hands up, “I’ll figure out something, Jim, just let me help you.”

“You don’t train new immortals.”

“I helped train you.”

“And you were a shit teacher.”

“Then… let me help provide protection.”

“No, Neil, you aren’t up for that—we both know you’re not.”

“Bullshit.”

“You won’t leave your team, and you know it.”

“I’ve left them before.”

“They won’t let you go.”

“I’ll make them.”

“You still wouldn’t be ready.”

“To hell I wouldn’t!”

“What about Sam?!”

Olivia’s eyes had gone wide, her eyes bouncing between the two immortals like she was watching a tennis match. As a deafening silence descended between the two, she took in a deep shocked breath.

Nate’s jaw was clenched tight and he was glaring a hole in his friend’s forehead, eyes beginning to moisten. Sterling swallowed hard, and carefully collected himself before continuing.

“Can you honestly tell me, Nate,” Sterling emphasized his friend’s current identity, “that you’d be ready to fully get back into the Game so soon after Sam died?”

Nate’s voice was flat, “Fine. You win.” He took a deep breath, regaining some of his fire, “But I still won’t let you do this by yourself.”

Sterling rolled his eyes. “What, exactly, do you suggest?”

“Call Mac.”

“What? I most certainly will not!”

Nate was not surprised by Sterling’s knee-jerk reaction. “I’m not arguing with you about this, Jim. Either you call MacLeod, or I will.”

Sterling narrowed his eyes. “Which one are you talking about?” he ventured cautiously.

Nate rolled his eyes, “Duncan.”

“No.”

“Jim…”

“No.”

“Dad…” Olivia surprised them both; they had forgotten she was there. “If this Duncan can help us, shouldn’t we ask?”

Sterling looked like he had sucked a lemon.

“Look, I know you and MacLeod have had problems for centuries, but I know for a fact that he considers you a friend. He’s a great teacher, and an even better swordsman. He can watch your back.”

Sterling clamped his eyes shut, and Nate was certain he had heard what was unspoken: because I can’t.

“Fine,” he growled, echoing Nate, “You win.” He opened his eyes and glared at his old friend, “Tell the Highlander Olivia and I are headed to Paris.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

“Save it, Byrne.”

Nate wrinkled his nose at that, but let it slide. “Listen, can you do one thing for me?”

“I thought I already was,” Sterling snarked back.

Nate stepped forward and held out a folded piece of paper. Sterling quirked and eyebrow, but accepted it. “What’s this?”

“It’s a name. Give me everything you got on him. Everything.”

Something in his voice must have tipped the other immortal off, because he narrowed his eyes in concern. “What sort of mess have you gotten yourself into, Neil?”

Nate gave a wry chuckle and turned to leave, “A mess that’s a great deal less permanent than yours. Watch your head, MacGregor.”

“Always, Byrne.” Sterling promised his friend’s retreating back, “Always.”

Nate didn’t hear; his mind was already on to the next problem. He needed to go wrangle his team back home and track down a highlander’s phone number. After that, well… then he’d worry about that name.

[eobe]

❤️‍🔥😱 From accidentally out-of-lethal-fate-summoned Commander Mayday to smouldering sunglasses Darkwing Duck (black ice vulture in this case) epical rose-delivering dance-absolving double quest challenges succeeding and generally charismatic Commander Cocoa 😎✨

Finally he‘s dancing with my precious vod Archer ✨🤩🫠

This one is so beautiful and dynamic, maybe my favorite Maycher so far 😎🌹🏹💙

A stolen tag list is being stolen @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas

[wings-and-beskargam]

Echaaj'la

Part 2

(Part 1)

The continuation of this collaborative “fix-it”, post GGN tale. This has turned into a collaborative writing exercise between myself and @feralferrule, with input from a couple other vode. The thing I loved most about GGN was the collaboration and the reciprocal inspiration. Thanks so much to all of you for the ride!

Hang in there BIV boys, we’re coming!

Word Count ~5400

Synopsis - Joined by a couple friends, Archer and Choy get to know each other a little better while planning how they’re going to extract Hexx, Veetch, and Mayday from Barton IV without altering the timeline. Meanwhile, the Barton IV boys continue to freeze, still utterly baffled by their GGN ‘dreams’, but at least they were good dreams. 😙

Warnings: We’re trying to rope a bunch of chaos together (including some very non-canon shenanigans) and make it all behave. Let’s just go with it. 🤫 Some angsty-ness and tender moments. Archer isn’t sure how to process her feelings or worries. She needs a hug. Or maybe more of that pink drink.

Mando’a Words

Al’verde - commander

Aruetiise - Outsiders

Beskar’gam - armour

Beskaryc kar’ta - beskar heart

Copi - shortened from copikla, “cute”. Copi is Archer’s young rancor.

Haar Trak - “The Arrow”, Archer’s Kom'rk-class starfigher.

Kar’ta -  heart

Kov’nyn - the Mandalorian “Keldabe kiss”. The touching of foreheads, usually by helmeted individuals. Can be used in combat (I.e., a violent headbutt), but when performed gently, this gesture is an act of affection and trust (not exclusively romantic), and demonstrates a bond between the individuals involved. 

Ner - my

Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra - My soul is the night sky, and you are the moon and stars

Olarom - Welcome

Shab’la - screwed-up

Resol’nare - “The six actions”. Six tenets, central to the Mandalorian way of life.

Yaim’sik - home/house

Barton IV, Imperial Depot

Another frigid morning.  Not that there were ever warm mornings, but he’d settle for a plain cold one once in a while. Commander Mayday rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up from his cot. A thin skim of ice on the drab, grey duracrete walls of his bunk room shimmered in the pale light beginning to stream through the tiny window, and he could see each exhale as they puffed out in a swirling cloud in front of him. 

This was a miserable place to be. He and his squad had been assigned to guard the remote outpost and its cargo crates over a year ago. The base came under constant attack from raiders - local people, and over the months most of the squad had been lost in the conflicts. Morale was at an all-time low, the Empire had all but abandoned them to their icy fates, and all of his squad had been lost apart from two troopers - Hexx and Veetch.

A faint reflection of light caught his eye as he bent to pick up his armour from its neat stack on the floor. The pendant around his neck, a copper coloured metal hexagon, was swinging and catching the orange glow from his small, barely functional, heating device.  He paused to consider the simple pendant. It hung on a leather cord and had faint writing etched on it in runes he recognized as Mandalorian, but could not read.

He’d woken up one morning, about 6 months past and had discovered it hanging around his neck. The clothing strewn across the floor was not his usual blacks and his favourite, well his ONLY, pair of sunglasses had been missing.  He’d stormed into Hexx and Veetch’s quarters demanding to know what trouble they had been up to, only to find them arguing about some wild theory. About a dream. A dream with eerie similarities to the one he’d had that night, and had continued having since.  

The dream was difficult to remember, he had only brief images left when he awoke. A red rose woven into flowing brown hair.  A tattoo in the shape of his pendant, etched on a pale sternum. Soft hands running over his hair and along his cheeks. His forehead resting gently against another.  He always felt warm and a little less alone when he woke from this dream, but its appearance along with that of the pendant were utterly perplexing.  

Dreams couldn’t explain the appearance and disappearance of physical objects. He must have spent too much time trapped at this miserable base, he was loosing his grip on reality.  He’d spent several days trying to figure out what the kark had happened, but eventually gave it up for some quirk in the force. All he knew for sure, was that his new pendant was inexplicably dear to him (but couldn’t, sadly, shade his eyes from the glaring sun).  He rarely took it off, and kept it hidden in the collar of his blacks.

With a sigh, he resigned himself once again to possibly never finding the answers to all of the questions he had. He tucked his pendant into his collar and began to kit up in his amour, wondering if the reinforcements he’d requested 28 rotations ago would be arriving finally.

***

In the adjacent barracks Hexx and Veetch were also preparing for the day. Veetch was rummaging through his small crate of belongings when he came across an item of ladies lingerie. He considered the lacy scrap of cloth for a moment. It still faintly held the scent from it’s presumable former owner.  Together he and Hexx had a matching set.  But Hexx never wanted to talk about their secret treasures.  It felt like he’d gotten his in a dream, but that couldn’t be right - the fabric was real, he could hold it in his hands.  The more he tried to puzzle out the answer, the more foggy his dream-like memory became. It had to be just a dream.  A really good dream.  Like a children’s tale, full of mystery and magic.  He brushed the lacy fabric with his fingers one last time and then stood and headed out into the chill of the base. 

Hexx followed him silently, his thoughts also on the inexplicable appearance of items he and his brother kept secret. Veetch had some wild theories about the mysterious appearances and the recurring dreams he had about a mystery woman, but had given up trying to connect the dots after their Commander had reprimanded him for making a huge, slightly insane string board on the wall of their barracks.  The memory of the look on Mayday’s face when he’d first seen the huge art project still brought a smile to Hexx’s face.

Though he’d never admit it, Hexx had similar dreams, and often carried his treasure - a smaller scrap of lacy black fabric than Veetch had - with him through the day, convinced that it gave him good luck.  He surreptitiously checked for its presence in one of his belt boxes.  It was there, and the woman he’d gotten it from had to be out there too, she had to be real.  He felt assured it was going to be a good day.

***

Kyrimorut, Mandalore 

“This way, watch your head.” Archer held open a low door that curiously appeared to be hewn directly into the trunk of a vast veshok tree growing next to a pristine lake at the northern edge of the village.  Choy ducked inside the door and found herself in an expansive, partially underground space.  Numerous starships of varying sizes rested inside, gleaming in the low, artificial light.

“Wow.  Mandalorians really love their secret, hidden spaces, huh?” said Choy.  Archer chuckled.  “Well, this is a secret stronghold for some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters.  We don’t exactly want to hang out an olarom sign for the Empire.” Archer smirked.

Archer had just received a message from Jaing, the information specialist they’d visited not an hour before.  He’d informed them that an Imperial shuttle was scheduled to deploy to Barton IV two standard rotations from now.  They didn’t have much time to waste so they’d come to prepare to leave for Barton IV.

Archer led her in the direction of the large hangar door, which appeared to open directly out from the side of the tree under which the hangar was build, opposite the small door they had just entered by.  There was a medium-sized starship parked here, its wings in an upright position.  As they approached the side of the ship, a woman in dark crimson coveralls slid out from underneath it wiping grease from her hands with a rag.

“Choy, this is Parja.  Parja, Choy,” Archer introduced.  She turned to Choy.  “Parja is our resident mechanic and general technical specialist.  She’s Fi’s partner. Parja,” she said turning back towards the other woman, “thanks for doing my preflight-check on such short notice.  I’m afraid we’ve have to depart unexpectedly quickly.”

Choy studied the fierce-looking mechanic.  She looked pretty familiar, and she knew they’d met briefly. “Oh! We met at GAR Goth Night,” she realized out loud.  

Parja raised an eyebrow, “Where? ‘GAR’ as in Grand Army of the Republic?”

Choy looked questioningly at Archer who nodded [[She’s safe, just remember I’m on the down low.]] Choy gave her a subtle wink and turned back to Parja.

“Parja, I’m glad to really meet you. I only just saw you across the dance floor at 79’s on Coruscant months ago. You were dancing with your husband and his brother and Archer.” Parja squinted her eyes and looked just over Choy’s head.  “Everyone was dressed in black and the clone bar was decorated all spooky? Do you remember?” 

She shook her head, casting her gaze around, “I, I thought I had some dreams kind of like that. Fi hasn’t mentioned anything like it,” she looked at Archer. “You were there? With us?” Archer nodded.

“I can help you remember,” Choy offered, holding up her hand. “I’m no Jedi but I can do the same stuff they can. The place had some special power over it that night that gave us all amnesia, but someone helped me remember and I helped Archer.” 

Again Parja looked to Archer for confirmation. 

Choy continued, “May I jog your memory?” She held out her hand, “I promise the rest of your mind is safe, I won’t go poking around or anything,” Choy smiled. Parja nodded and placed her hand on Choy’s. Choy stepped closer, placed her other hand on Parja’s and began radiating calm and reassuring energy toward her. 

“I will show you images, [[of the club from my memories.]] Choy switched to speaking through the force. She sent safe welcoming energy into Parja’s brain, visualizing a mist lifting off of her mind. Choy then projected her own memory of Parja arriving at 79’s with Rav, her outfit, her husband, the dancing. [[it was a theme night at 79’s, gothic, melancholy, romantic]] she showed her the other patrons, the decor, the performers on stage. She coaxed out Parja’s suspended memories frozen by the strange fogginess that she could feel in the force around people who had been at GGN. 

Parja drew a sharp breath, “Yes, that’s like my dream. Oh, this all really happened. I was there!”

Choy continued. [[Archer met a clone commander in the GAR - well Empire now - Mayday, who went through quite the effort to woo her.]] Choy showed Mayday giving her the rose and a snippet of how they looked at each other.

Archer watched Parja’s expression soften from surprise and wonder to something happier as she caught Archer’s eye. Choy felt Parja’s caring and gladness directed toward her friend, and noticed Archer crossing her arms, cheeks colouring a bit.

[[And I- well, I hit it off with his men.]] Choy carefully parsed the more intimate memories from her projection into Parja’s mind, but some of the emotion slipped through, the infatuation, the deep concern. Parja’s attention was back on Choy, Archer noting her raised eyebrows and Choy’s blush.  

[[I know what terrible things are going to happen to these men, and have come here to ask Archer for her help to rescue them from the Imperial base they are stationed at.]] Choy showed her memory of the images of Barton IV, the explosion, the row of helmets, Mayday with a heavy heart, the avalanche, Crosshair, and the cold, indifferent Imperial officer. Mayday dead in the snow. 

“The Empire is throwing clones away like trash, abusing them, even experimenting on them now.” Choy said out loud with restrained passion, blinking back tears. She released Parja’s hand with a quick squeeze to bring her back to the here and now. “Thank you for listening,” Choy added and stepped back out of Parja’s personal space.

Parja blinked slowly and then looked to Archer. “So now you’re flying off to some Imperial installation, without a plan, or backup, to extract three random clones?”

Archer scoffed. ”Who said I don’t have a plan?” 

”Does your “plan” involve a crate of thermal detonators?”

Archer shrugged non-commitally, a huge grin on her face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scorch.” Parja smirked, then turned serious. “But you know better than to think we’ll let you go to infiltrate an Imperial base by yourself, Keb. I’m coming with you and we’re bringing Fi too,” she continued, walking off.  

“Your ship’s grounded until we come back!” she shouted over her shoulder as she left through the small door, heading towards the Skirata home.

Choy looked at Archer quizzically. “Keb?”

”My name.  It’s Kebii’tra.  “Archer” is a nickname of sorts.”

Choy nodded as she considered the irony that her own name now was a nickname derived from Archer’s language. She looked around at the space and wondered about the construction of the place and how these enormous compounds couldn’t be older than the huge trees above. 

She looked at the comically small door that Parja had just left through and tipped her head. “So if you want to use the force on this adventure, you can just blame me. But that Parja’s a good egg. Would you ever feel safe coming out to her as a force user? Why’d you tell me anyway? You have that pink booze they were passing out? That stuff was something else.” Choy waved a hand up dismissively, and cast her gaze around Archer’s ship. “You don’t have to answer any of this, I’m just thinking out loud right now. But if she’s going to help- which is great, don’t get me wrong, I just think that says a lot about how much she cares about you.” She turned to Archer and looked her in the eyes, “Now, I’ll take your secret to my grave but I don’t think you should have to.”

Archer shrugged in Choy’s direction.  “They liberate and take in defected clones here.  It’s part of the reason this place exists, and it’s how they live by the Resol’nare.  But Mandalorians have a long… tumultuous history with force users.  The conflicts between us have shaped our culture for centuries.  Distrust of the Jedi runs deep in our blood, and Mandalorian force users may be hidden away or shunned. It’s different here, people are less traditional, obviously, but I don’t have a great many friends and I don’t want to lose any because I’m different.”

Choy didn’t fail to notice the slightly pained look that briefly crossed Archer’s face.  

”And to your second question,” she said abruptly changing the subject, “You threatened me.” Choy received a teasingly wicked grin. “It was only fair I let you know what you were getting yourself into,” she said with a wink. 

Continuing, she said, “Since you mentioned them, those pink drinks - what did they do to us? They made me feel strange. Like I wasn’t quite myself in some ways. I did some things I wouldn’t normally have, and everything I felt seemed exaggerated. It was all so intense by the end of the night. ” 

“Hold up,” Choy laughed, “Is it really a threat if I don't know you can hear me?” she smirked at the other woman. “Anyway, yeah we were definitely in an altered state,” she squinted her eyes and thought back to that night. “I’ve had a while to reflect on this and I believe what I was feeling was genuine. Like, I was really annoyed with Jesse, but I was already annoyed with him. I avoided Echo after the drinks because I knew my heart would break in a million pieces if I saw him. I felt very platonic toward the Bad Batchers and all the ladies felt like sisters I never had. It was like I felt everything stronger, but it all came from me.”   

She shifted her weight to one leg and held a hand out. “But would I have jumped in the sack with two men had I been sober?” She shrugged, “Possibly. Probably- honestly,” she nodded, “ that’s exactly what I would have done then. I was still hormonal like a tooka in heat- sorry, I know, TMI. But between the force being new for me and the stupid GAR-issue birth control implant, I was a hot mess. I still have to focus every day just to manage it, but it’s better. I wasn’t eased into the force from birth like you or anyone else in this galaxy. Yoda said it’s the nature of power to fill voids. Apparently I was a void,” Choy added sardonically, eyebrows raised. 

She looked at Archer again who seemed not at all reassured. Choy sighed, “Here’s what I think- whatever you did with Mayday, that came from your heart. It didn’t feel like regular drunk inhibition to me and you didn’t seem drugged. I’ve seen that and your mind felt clear. We’ll just have to see how we feel about the guys when we get them, and how they feel about us, too. Who knows, maybe we just end up rescuing them and it’s like catch and release.”

She paused and stepped a little closer to Archer, “Hey, nothing you did was inherently bad. Do Mandalorians have cultural rules, taboos about this sort of thing? Or your own rules you have for yourself?”

“There’s no cultural taboo. Far from it.”  Archer paused, looking a little uncomfortable. “I’m just…not usually into the casual scene I guess.  I don’t really regret anything, I’m just still unsure how things seemed to move so quickly for me. And of what that might mean.”

Choy sensed something behind Archer’s words, but let it be for the time being.

Archer continued, unprompted. “I gave him my kar’ta…” she admitted. “He was still loyal to the Empire, I couldn’t tell him about this place,” she gestured around them, “couldn’t yet offer him, them, a place to get away to.  But still, I gave it to him.”

“Your kar’ta?” Choy asked her, unsure of what she meant, but sensing a weight to the admission. 

“My heart. My beskar heart - from my armour,” she hedged slightly.  “He hung it around his neck, and wore it as a pendant the rest of the night.”

“I’ve read that piece is special.  It symbolizes the heart and spirit of the Mandalorian people, right?”  She eyed Archer knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she trailed off, apparently unprepared to go further.

”Hey,” Archer began anew, once again changing the course of the conversation, “since we have a bit of time before Parja comes back with Fi, let's head back to my yaim’sik for a minute.  I should introduce - or maybe reintroduce - you to someone.”

“Yes, of course,” Choy said a little absentmindedly. She followed Archer out of the little door and back through the woods. She was considering how deeply affected Archer seemed to be by her dalliance with Mayday. Choy felt deep guilt seeping up. A memory of Hexx throwing the back room key to Mayday at her suggestion played across her mind. She realized that she had drawn Archer into the storm she was caught in, her lack of boundary and control stoking that far deeper power than the force, the fires of desire, the very thing driving all the conflict and war for power around them. She realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here just for the boys, but for Archer, too. She felt a strong resolve to help Archer regain her sense of integrity and to set things right. 

Sensing her inner turmoil, Archer looked back at Choy who had straggled behind with her thoughts. Choy just smiled and quickened her pace. “So who’s the mystery person? Someone from GGN, I’d imagine?”

”Oh yes, I think you’ll quite like her.”

***

Hyperspace, en-route from Mandalore to Barton IV

Archer reclined in the pilot’s chair of her Kom’rk-class starfighter - Haar Trak  - content for the moment to rest and process some of the memories and information Choy had unlocked. They were presently speeding through hyperspace on their way from Mandalore to Barton IV, a journey that was nearly complete. 

Parja and Fi had joined them, Parja being convinced that they would need the help.  Or maybe she was just eager for another opportunity to see some of their new gear tested in action.  She wasn't sure.  Both Parja and Fi had spoken with Choy and were relieved of the fog over their memories.  They were now seated towards the rear of the ship, conversing quietly.

 Choy was seated beside her in the copilot’s chair, apparently lost within her own thoughts. She’d made it clear to them that in order to maintain the integrity of future events,  the three clones must be extracted without the knowledge of anyone on Barton IV, and that they must all be believed to have been killed in action. This was going to be… interesting.

The Imperial clone trooper known as Crosshair would soon be arriving on Barton IV with one Lieutenant Nolan. Crosshair had been at GGN and had seemed to know Mayday then.  It was curious that this day would be the first time they’d be meeting, according to Choy. Now that she was thinking of the people she’d seen that night, she realized there were quite a few people there who seemed to be from another time.  Curious. She wondered, not for the first time, what purpose the minstrels had had for bringing all of those beings together the way they had. What a story that must be.

This mission to free the three steadfast clones trapped on Barton IV was the right thing to do, and aligned with Kyriomorut’s objective of liberating and bringing more vode to the stronghold. But she’d also promised Mayday she’d come for him, and she felt compelled to fulfill that promise - no matter the ultimate outcome.  Sure, he hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant and probably didn’t remember anything about that night, but still she’d given her word.

 Choy had made it clear that all three men had experienced much in the past months and would be happy to move on to a different life, if given the chance.  It was time to fulfill her promise, then.  She recalled the last few moments of GGN, and felt her resolve strengthen. The memory played before her eyes.

Mayday hugged her close at a table near the bar, she was seated sideways across his lap. He laid his head against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as she waved to Eo and her squad as they departed for the night. 

She looked down at him and stroked his hair soothingly with her free hand as the tumult of emotions roiling inside him washed over her. He’d seemed lost in thought, trapped in a loop of “what-if’s”.

“Are you tired, Al’verde?” she’d asked. 

He’d looked up at her, his large eyes tinged with emotions she didn’t want to name. It was a heartbreaking look, and one she couldn’t deny held more than just weariness.

 “No.” 

“Then what’s wrong, ner kar’ta?”

“The club is closing soon.” He paused for a long moment, searching her gaze and clutching her more tightly to him. “And I don’t want to leave.” 

She’d looked up then, noticing that indeed the club was beginning to clear out, patrons saying their farewells and making their way to the exit. Hexx and Veetch had been hovering nearby, both looking dispirited after Choy’s departure. It was time for them to go as well. 

Setting her nearly empty glass of pink-drink down on the table behind her she pressed her palm to Mayday’s cheek, running her thumb back and forth softly. He leaned into the touch.  

“Shab,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of her own, “this one is the call for help that has brought me more trouble.” What was it that made these three bearded troopers so sweet and hard to deny? And why-oh-why must they still be with the Empire? Why couldn’t she just offer him and his men a safe place to go?”

She’d brought her forehead to rest against his in a gentle kov’nyn and said softly, “Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra.” She knew that he’d probably understood only a few of the words but she could feel their impact on him nonetheless. 

Their fast-growing attachment to each other was probably obvious to everyone in the club.  She should have kept her distance, knowing they would inevitably have to part - maybe permanently - at the end of the night, but she’d been as helpless in the end to the mysterious atmosphere of GGN as everyone else.

”Come with me?” he’d asked then. 

Before she’d been able formulate a response Hexx and Veetch appeared over his shoulder and cleared their throats.

”Uhm, commander?  Sir?” Veetch spoke hesitantly.

Mayday’s posture stiffened immediately, and he nearly growled his response. “I know, Veetch.”

Mayday sighed once again before rising from the chair and setting her on her feet. He took her hand in his, and as a group they walked towards the doors. He paused with her, eyeing the two troopers meaningfully. They walked through the doors with a nod… and seemed to fade in a pink-tinged mist that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

What the kark? She hadn’t questioned that at the time. Mayday hadn’t seemed to notice.

He was hesitating, his reluctance to go etched in every line of his posture and rippling off him in strong pulses. His eyes said everything he wouldn’t voice. She squeezed his hand and tried to send a subtle wave of calm reassurance to him. He took a shaky breath and crushed her to his chest.  She squeezed him back as he said, “I’ll comm you. Promise.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. Mand’alor, that cheeky smile was contagious. She returned it with a wink and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget, Al’verde. I’ll come after you if you do, and I’ll bring Copi,” she threatened teasingly.

“Promise?”

“Ni haat’mitir.”

Eyes shining, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned quickly and passed through the doorway, fading away in swirling pinkish mist.

Again she hadn’t questioned that decidedly not normal departure at the time. 

And of course, he hadn’t contacted her.  She’d promised to come after him, and now she was. But the uncertainty she felt about where would they would stand after all the time that had passed was distracting. She sighed quietly.  “Stop it,” she chided herself.

It didn’t matter what happened after.  Getting the three men away from the Empire, saving their lives, giving them a chance to live and make their own choices was all that mattered. She was a professional.  She was not going to let these dikut’la pink-mist generated emotions and worries get in the way of completing this mission with everyone intact.

Clearing her throat, Archer turned fully in her seat to face Choy. ”Show me again, the events of the afternoon when we’ll have to get your two lads out.”  Choy took Archer’s offered hand and sent images of Crosshair overhearing an urgent comm message from Veetch relaying that Hexx had been taken down by raiders, followed by images of a shuttle stationed in front of the base exploding and sending a man in clone trooper armour - Veetch - flying through the air.

Parja and Fi, overhearing the activity joined the planning in the cockpit.

”It seems as though there are only a couple minutes between when Veetch reports Hexx to have been taken down at the back of this depot and when he himself is caught up in this shuttle explosion near the southwestern end.” Archer said, deep in thought.

“Yes, and Crosshair will be closely watching the shuttle explosion from the eastern watchtower, while Mayday is investigating in the northwestern area.  The light from the detonation will blind Crosshair temporarily but only for a few seconds.  There won’t be much time to get to Veetch without him noticing us,” said Choy.

“Hm.  We’ll have to split up into two teams to get to both men in time, I think,” Archer returned. “If we can covertly station one team on the east side near where the raiders make initial hard contact with Hexx and Veetch behind the barracks building, they can provide the boys with some subtle non-lethal cover fire and transport Hexx to the ship after Veetch breaks away to the south towards the shuttle.  A covert stun-shot on Hexx while Veetch has his back turned should maintain his story of being taken down and prevent him from actually being shot.”

Choy looked slightly aghast at the idea of deliberately stunning Hexx, but said, “I’m a pretty good shot, I can probably manage that.”

Fi brightened.  “Looks like you’re teaming up with me!  I’ve heard I’m ok with a blaster rifle.” He winked. Parja rolled her eyes fondly.

“Make sure you’re not firing unless you really need to.  Stun bolts will be really obvious and if anyone notices, your cover will be blown”, Parja added. “But what about the other man, Veetch?”

Archer crossed her arms. “You and I will get him.  This might be a good chance to try out that new remote override device you guys been working on. You up for a covert installation and remote “self-destruction” of an imperial shuttle?”

“You know it.” Parja smiled.  She was always game for testing out new tech. Especially if it caused a little mayhem for the Empire.

If we detonate that shuttle just a bit earlier than what Choy’s seen, it’ll still provide the flash of light we need for visual cover, and it’ll throw Veetch up into the right spot without it being fatal for him.  If my timing is right, I should be able to jet in and snatch him from the air as he’s blown back away from the shuttle.” Archer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose the intensity of the explosion may be enough to explain the fact that he is suddenly missing too.”

“Wait,” Choy interjectected, “you can carry the weight of an armoured man while flying your jetpack?” asked Choy a bit doubtfully.

“I once scooped up a fully Katarn-armoured commando.  Dropped him in a mud pit.  It was hilarious,” Archer reflected with a smile. 

“You… what?” Choy blinked incredulously.

“He called Copi ugly.”  Archer shrugged. “Anyway, these skinny lads shouldn’t be a problem”.

“Wow, ok.”  Choy blinked.  “Oh!  We’ll have to make sure some armour pieces stay behind, or at least their helmets.” Archer looked at Choy questioningly. “Trust me,” said Choy.  

Archer shrugged. “Very well.”

Fi wondered, “The base’s perimeter sensor array may be problematic for us trying to stage ahead of time. Do you have an explosive plan to deal with that too?” 

Archer considered for a moment.  “If what Choy’s shown us is accurate, their sensors are shab’la.  But we may be safest to get into position after the raiders have triggered the alarm themselves. Timing will be tight, but we’ll avoid detection, save time, and it should be workable with all the chaos, right?”

“The larger concern though is the likelihood that those troopers will have no memory of us and will probably resist our abduction efforts. Choy, can you remedy that before they regain consciousness?”

“They should be conscious for me to help them remember. I think I can handle them though.” Choy smiled at the group reassuringly.

“And Mayday?” Archer asked gravely.  “When can we get Mayday out?”

Choy glanced to the side for a moment, before returning her gaze to meet Archer’s. “Mayday has to believe that Hexx and Veetch are gone.  He has to stay with Crosshair for a bit longer. Just until the next morning. It’s Crosshair befriending Mayday, being saved by him, and then witnessing what he thinks is Mayday’s death that lets him move past the Empire. It seems cruel, but I believe it has to happen.  For the sake of a lot of lives.”

There was a long silence, as the group looked at each other. Archer felt deeply unsettled.  “We have to allow him to be injured and then appear to die under these horrible circumstances? What if he does die?”

She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if she had to witness that.  

”I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” responded Choy immediately.  “At least not right there, like I showed you.  Fi interjected “He certainly will suffering from hypothermia, which in its final stages can cause loss of consciousness. Pulse and respirations can be difficult to detect too. We will need to get him quickly to the ship and stabilize any injuries he’s got from the avalanche.  He’ll probably need the bacta tank back home.”

[[I believe you can get to him in time, and we can look after him and Hexx and Veetch.  It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.]]  Choy was looking at Archer, and she felt her trying to convey confidence and reassurance. “We can do this,” Choy then said aloud to the group.

The ship’s navicomputer emitted an auditory tone before dropping the craft out of hyperspace.  The icy visage of Barton IV loomed large in the viewscreen.  Archer looked at her hastily assembled rescue squad and nodded. 

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Tagging same folks as last time - let me know if it’s a bother! @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @foxwithadarkside @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01

[eobe]

✨🤩 You people are all so crazy in the best meanings and so beautiful I can’t! 🤯♥️

@feralferrule ✨😱♥️ Whoaaah to your Procreate Dreams art and – hihihi 🤩 Eo with waving tendrils! ✨😽🩵 I LOOOOVE! 🥰 And then look at your chaotic Barton Boys 🫠♥️ You made them so kriffing cool and I just love them! Especially how desperate is poor Veetch, not getting over that underwear 😂 What have you done girrrll 😎😽❤️‍🔥

@foxwithadarkside OMG look at the boys. Everytime I see them, I have the feeling they get more and more just cuddle floofies!! 😍🫶 Why they so innocent and cute! But then underwear ehehehe 😏😽

@noblelightfighter Heh! The minstrels enjoying the show! 😎✨🫶 Just because they can! ✨

I’m learning Procreate Dreams which reminds me a bit of Adobe’s Director. (Mad at Adobe these days) here’s a small sample of OCs in the fics I and others have brewing since GGN @ghostymarni

@foxwithadarkside @wings-and-beskargam @noblelightfighter @eobe @nocturius8015ficore

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf genie Tahny is like my little bossy Tinkerbell here😄 (although the transparency didn’t translate across apps and now she looks like a flatworm🫣) I love your Tahny guide you posted!

This is only the beginning as we connect all the dots

Ok back to WIPs

[eobe]

✨🐉♥️

Last Line Challenge

I was tagged by @kotemf last week! Apologies it took so long and thank you for the tag, vod! 💛

Been on a writing burnout (it happens even to Zest) and been gaming ever since but now WE ARE SO BACK. Here's the last thing I wrote for Welcome To Vau's, which was a bit of Scorch's backstory.

Scorch wasn't Marine. He was Army, and he'd been in OFS and he promptly excused himself during OIR. It was too hard. His dad was wrong to believe in him. He betrayed Walon Vau's trust—a Marine specops officer and his own dear old father—because he couldn't handle the weight anymore. Not even when he heard Sev had an accident that cost his left leg. He'd never made a decision so fast in his life; he left the institution that his dad had trained them all together for.

NPT but I wanna know what y'all got in your pocketses: @hellfiresky @arliganzey @carbon-corrie @bardan-jusik @pichiflu-draws @leafdupe and of course uno reverse to @kotemf, and to anyone who sees this pls tag yourself!

[foxwithadarkside]

He's ready to carry her to whatever chill-out room she wants. Once the coat is a bit more buttoned up so it can't unfold along the way.

where there's a stolen tag list... Here it is: @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes

Full Metal Mando 😎

The forces of chaos have conspired against pep-talked me into committing a terrible sin participating in the latest GGN trend (shirt removal). You four have corrupted me. You know who you are. 😱

I made a small attempt to avoid this, but apparently it would make at least one person happy, so what the heck. The minstrels were busy, and left the music stage full of gear during their break (I borrowed your amp, thanks guys! @noblelightfighter ), so now not only do you have to view this spectacle, you get to listen to it as well! 😜 Commence the metal Dha Werda Verda! 🎶 🦇 ⛓️‍💥 (mild spice below cut)

I don’t think this is what my clan meant by “Full Metal Mando”...

Ok, someone take me to the chill-out room. I need a moment. Haha. 🫣😎

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ordo-core @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

[eobe]

✨🫠 *melting in Klimt Maycher romance* This is so beautiful I stare and I am … [please read repeat]

The comm # I don't think a reference is needed for this one x3

A stolen tag list is being stolen @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas

[foxwithadarkside]

ohboyohboyohboy!!!! AAAAAAA!!!!!! Also

@eobe @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01 @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule

Following the spontaneous events of GAR Goth Night 2025 (GGN) I was asked by a few patrons how we could let the Barton IV boys go back to their icy prison camp just to perish.

So, I got thinking about that and eventually came up with a small mission plan, which very quickly spiralled into something much bigger and more convoluted (and as yet unfinished) after chatting with a few people. I was gently coerced into writing this down, so after many painful hours of attempting to remember how to write prose, here’s some of what I’ve got. Typos and punctuation errors and all.

This confusing tale may be best understood if you’ve seen a bunch of the previous GGN shenanigans, but should hopefully be somewhat self-explanatory if not. Thanks to the lovely people who were super kind and encouraging, who helped me immensely with this!

Synopsis: The fever dream has come to an end and everyone has gone back to their everyday life and time. Mysteriously, memories of the GGN have become nothing more than hard-to-remember impressions. Warnings: Some angst and worries over future death (canon) of other characters. Random mishmash of canon and legends and content of author’s imagination. Little bit of Mando’a cursing.

Mando’a:

Echaaj’la - far away

Buy’ce - helmet

Beska’gam - armour

Su’cuy gar - hello

Jate ge’catra - good evening

Burc’yase - friends

Osik, Shab, Haar’chak - curse words 😉

Naysh - no

Aruetii(se) - outsider(s)

Ni trikari par ibic, al mhi linibar gaa’tayl - I’m sorry for this, but we need help.

Olarom - welcome

Uj’joor - deal!

Su’cuy - thanks

Did I want to add art to this? Yes. Did I have time to make some? No. 😭

Echaaj’la

Part 1 ( ~3700 words)

Archer was sitting in her forge, attempting to focus on completing the final touches on a beskar buy’ce that had yet to be assigned an owner. Since the fall of the Republic just under a year before, she had been busy making and repairing beskar’gam for the resident Mandalorians of the remote stronghold, Kyrimorut. Though Mandalore was now considered part of the Galactic Empire, it was no secret that Mandalorians chafed at the oversight by aruetiise. The residents of Kyrimorut both native-born Mandalorians and the defected clone troopers were no exception to this.

The work was going slowly on this afternoon, however, as she found her thoughts drifting away to the fuzzy impressions of a night almost six months past, when she’d attended the wildly chaotic GAR Goth Night at Corusant’s Clone Bar - 79’s. Though she was certain she’d had only a little to drink, her memories of that night had strangely become nebulous and faded after she had left, like a dream after waking. She was left with a series of incorporeal images, impressions and emotions. The more she tried to focus her thoughts on the events of that night, the more they seemed to twist and swirl in her minds’ eye, and she was not at all sure they were real. “Shab,” she thought, “what in the name of Mand’alor was in the water there? Why does everyone seem to have forgotten the events of the night?”

She had come home to her tree-top dwelling on the outskirts of Kyrimorut with two objects she couldn’t remember picking up: a long-stemmed red rose (slightly rumpled) and a pair of angular black sunglasses. When she held these in her hands she felt a mix of strong emotions wash over her - affection, desire, protectiveness, joy, loss, heartbreak, longing - and flashes of images of a man passed before her eyes: black leather bands wrapped around strong arms, a cheeky smirk on lips framed by a dark beard, graceful lines of ink in the shape of a large bird sweeping across broad shoulders, a pair of chocolatey brown eyes flecked with amber and swimming with affection.

The rose she had carefully dried and placed in a transparisteel vase that rested in the window of her bedroom. She had taken to wearing the sunglasses when she was not in armour, and they brought her a strange sense of comfort. She was sure the man in her nebulous memories had given these things to her and that they had shared a connection that night, but no matter how hard she grasped at her memories, she could not recall anything more than flashes.

Setting her tools down on the cluttered workbench, Archer stood with a huff. Shaking off the ghosts of the memories, she walked out of the forge into the warm dappled sunshine filtering through the massive veshok trees above. She was living on the outskirts of Kyrimorut, the clandestine stronghold established by Kal Skirata on Mandalore. Nestled amidst a massive, untouched forest, Kyrimorut was a fine place to live. The stronghold village was a haven for displaced Mandalorians, defected Imperial clone troopers, and even a small number of escaped Jedi. The main village had grown since its initial creation and was now a self-sufficient community that continued to welcome both defected clones and supportive Mandalorians alike.

It was peaceful here, the climate was temperate, the forests were pristine and out on the outskirts, solitude was easy to find. It was the perfect place for an armourer to work without causing disruptions to others. The solitude, however, had been starting to feel more like loneliness since she’d returned home from GGN those months past.

Archer closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun feeling its’ warmth touch her cheeks. The flashes of memory and emotions were a distracting mystery that she should put behind her, but she couldn’t help but feel that the increasing frequency with which they were crossing her mind lately was meaningful. She’d wanted to discover once and for all what had happened that night and what had caused the mass amnesia amongst the patrons, but since none of her contacts had any clear memories of the evening it seemed likely to remain a mystery for the time being.

***

The sun was beginning to set over the western horizon, casting brilliant shades of orange and purple out over the tree tops as, now nearly fully-armoured, Archer was preparing to head deeper into the forest to log some low-light practice with her Verpine shatter rifle. The sharp chirp of her comm device brought her out onto the landing of her tree-top dwelling. Pressing the button to answer it, she was greeted with the blue holoimage of a human woman she didn’t recognize.

“Su’cuy gar, Archer,” the image of the woman greeted her in broken Mando’a and with a respectful nod. “You probably don’t remember me, we met each other a while ago, on Corusant. My name is Choy.”

“Jate ge’catra, Choy. What can I do for you?” Archer replied coolly, glossing over the fact that she indeed had no memory of this woman. Corusant. Archer very very rarely went to Corusant. A sense of unease bloomed in the back of her mind as she realized that this woman could have been one of the people present at GGN.

“Please, I need to talk with you in person. Actually, I’m here, now. One of your friends gave me your location, and I just�� I really need your help. I need to find someone.”

Archer raised an eyebrow. This woman was cold-comming her from her front door? And who had given away her location? It had to have been Eo, that trouble maker. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters, you know,” she countered “and it’s not terribly polite or safe to drop in to this place unannounced. Especially for an outsider.”

“This isn’t like that, and I’m sorry. Just. Please come down and speak with me? I think you’ll find this important too. Mayday is involved,” Choy spoke with a tone that was equal parts defensive and pleading.

Mayday. That.. name? A small breath escaped her as, unbidden, a series of brief images flashed through Archer’s mind.

A vividly red rose, confidently offered. A pair of strong arms holding her to a bare chest. A cocky smile belied by soft eyes with a hint of question in them. The scents of cinnamon, pine and cocoa.

“I… Very well,” came her slightly shaky response as she reached to end the comm connection. Grabbing her jetpack and buy’ce from their stand just inside the door, she slung them on and vaulted over the railing out into open air.

She allowed herself to free-fall, feet first, until she was just shy of the ground before activating the jet thrusters to slow her descent. She landed softly behind the black-cloaked figure standing at the base of the veshok tree. Choy had been staring up towards her dwelling, nestled amongst the tree’s highest limbs and startled a bit at Archer’s sudden appearance. She turned towards Archer and lowered her gaze to meet her intimidating, illuminated visor.

“Interesting home you have here. I’ll bet the view is spectacular,” Choy stated, lowering the hood of her dark cloak. In turn, Archer removed her helmet and balanced it at her hip under her left arm. She stiffened as she felt Choy’s presence brush against her mind.

[[I know you can hear me. Please don’t be alarmed. You showed me that you had hidden talents when we met at 79’s. Do you remember?]]

“So we met at GGN, then. I’m afraid my memories of that night have….faded. As have those of my burc’yase,” Archer stated quietly. She was surprised that she would reveal her ability to sense peoples thoughts and emotions to a stranger. Especially while in the company of such a mixed crowd.

[[I get it. It was a strange night. Definitely something in the drinks. Your secret is safe with me.]]

Archer narrowed her eyes slightly, but Choy only nodded. “Yes, it seems that everyone who attended the event forgot nearly everything about it after they left 79’s. Myself included. But I ran into someone, a minstrel who worked at 79’s that night, and they helped me recover those memories.” Choy paused. “I need your help, but the things I’m about to tell you will probably sound impossible and be difficult to believe. I figured if I could talk with you in person, I could show you instead. Help you recover some of your memories too. And…and you’ll be able to sense that I’m being truthful.”

Choy looked up at Archer with glistening eyes, continuing, “Time is running out, and I’ve been worried sick about Veetch and Hex… and of course Mayday too. I’ve tried to intervene, but everything’s just been so chaotic and I’m out of contacts to turn t….

“Wait,” Archer interrupted Choy’s increasingly distressed-sounding monologue. “Mayday. You said that name earlier. Who is Mayday, why do I feel like it’s familiar?”

Choy appeared to gather herself, and took a steadying breath.

[[Let me show you…]]

Archer took a step back, expression guarded as Choy reached for her hand.

[[Please. You can trust me. Let me help you remember.]]

Archer considered the other woman for a moment. She could sense bone-deep worry rolling off of her and a hint of panic that she wouldn’t be believed. Choy seemed to be genuinely concerned and seeking help, and it was impossible to resist such earnestness.

Expression softening, Archer offered her right hand to Choy who took it in hers. Both women closed their eyes.

A series of images began flitting beneath Archer’s eyelids, like a montage sequence in a holofilm, and Choy’s voice began narrating.

[[I first noticed you at GGN not long after I arrived with my friend Una. You were standing near a wall with your friend, the Mikkian woman who told me how to find you…Eo? You were sharing a drink and watching a clone trooper who was waving at you.]]

An image of Gregor flitted past Archer’s vision.

[[That’s Gregor,]] Archer supplied [[he lives here at Kyrimorut now, down in the village with the Skirata brothers. He’s an excellent cook.]]

Choy chuckled softly. [[That’s also when I first noticed Commander Mayday. He was wearing arm wraps and sunglasses and standing not far from where you were. He was demanding another, very dramatic-looking, trooper - Tup, I think - give him a rose.]]

Choy supplied an image of a bearded clone with medium-length hair, dressed as she had described gesturing exasperatedly at a shirtless clone who was slumped dramatically against a wall dangling a rose from his right hand. The rose. The one she had brought home with her. Archer began to feel a strange pressure building at the back of her head, like too much water being held behind a flimsy dam.

[[Just after that I met Veetch and Hex. They were part of his squad, and Mayday had sent them out to collect some items to trade for the rose. Apparently Tup refused to give it up without something in return. They were very sweet, especially Veetch.]]

Choy sighed, apparently lost for a moment in her memories. As images from Choy’s perspective continued to flit by, the pressure inside Archer’s head was growing, like something was ready to burst into her consciousness.

[[We all watched as these two scruffy guys went from patron to patron, asking for different items. It was pretty endearing. They eventually gave the collected things to their commander, and he traded it all for that one rose. After that]]

“He gave it to me,” Archer whispered aloud, eyes opened wide. She drew in a shaky breath. The pressure inside her head had broken all at once, and a flood of memories rushed into being. “I remember. Him. Them. You. And…everything else.” She closed her eyes and buried her face in her free hand as the torrent of images continued to rush by.

A look of surprise with a flash of light and camera shutter sound. Gentle hands fastening a button on her coat. Big, brown, awestruck eyes. An intense feeling of steadfastness with a hint of possessiveness.

Choy looked at Archer sympathetically. “Don’t worry, the disorientation will pass in a minute. I’d hoped it would be easy for you to remember. One of the minstrels, Nare, told me it should only take a nudge. I'm glad she was right.” She blinked. “They were the ones that made us all forget, you know? Their intent was to ease any confusion or anxiety resulting from being so close to the space-time portal and the chaos it created when they arrived. They’re remarkable beings.”

Archer looked at Choy dubiously, still a little overwhelmed by the flood of remembrance. She felt lightheaded from the rush of strong emotions coursing through her in its wake. She was grateful that night had settled its darkness over the forest, hiding the flush she felt rising to her cheeks.

“Osik,” Archer sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I fell for a clone trooper…” She looked up at the night sky as rather intense scenes from a private room at the back of the club returned to her. “Oh….oh….haar’chak!”

“There’s more,” Choy said, a little hesitantly. “Are you ready to hear it?”

“Naysh,” Archer quipped in Mando’a, glancing down at Choy “but proceed”.

[[I am not originally from any planet in this galaxy. I was brought here in a force-storm a few years ago from a planet called Earth, where the force doesn’t even exist. On my home world, this galaxy and its events are considered a fictional tale from the past. Entertainment. When I got here I went through some stuff, but ultimately ended up working with the GAR and Jedi Order as a combat medic. I know a lot of the things that will happen in the future, and have seen them happening in person while in the field. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s true.]]

Archer looked at Choy incredulously. From another galaxy and possibly time? She could feel that Choy was telling the truth, or at least that she believed she was. After the recent revelations, was it really a huge leap to believe this also? She decided to accept Choy’s story without argument for the time being.

“Continue.”

[[I knew that Order 66 and the rise of the Empire was going to happen before it did. I worked with a couple clone medics to free as many clones from the control of these brain-washing chips they all have implanted in them that compelled them to act out Order 66. But, I’m just one person with an unbelievable story, right? Even the Jedi never really believed me fully.]]

With a regretful sigh, she paused briefly before continuing.

[[We’re past that now, I guess. But Hexx and Veetch, and Mayday...they’re about to be in trouble. And now that I remember how I feel about those two…I.. We have to do something. Please. I know you care for Mayday, and he cared for you too. He’s going to be killed. They all are. The Imperials at the outpost on Barton IV are going to throw them away like trash. Soon. You’re a Mando, you can help. You have to help.]]

Archer was silent for a long moment, while she processed all of this information. She allowed her thoughts to drift through the newly cleared memories. She and Mayday had grown close on that night that strangely had seemed to last for weeks. He had worked so earnestly to gain her favour, and she had given him her beskar’yc kar’ta - her beskar heart - which he’d seemed overcome with pride to wear around his neck. By the end of the night, the two had felt inseparable, and the memory of bidding him farewell was softened only a little by his promise to stay in contact until they could see each other again - if indeed they ever could. Which, of course, never happened.

“You realize they’ll probably have all but forgotten about us, about the whole night, just as we did them?” Archer said, eyeing Choy who was studying her carefully, waiting for a response. “I know,” she said quietly “but if there’s something I can do to prevent this one tragedy….”

“Yes” Archer growled, narrowing her eyes and placing her helmet back on her head. “I will not allow the Imperial aruetiise to take anything more from me. Come. We have a mission to plan.”

***

Archer led Choy down into the stronghold’s village. As they walked Choy filled her in on the details of the future events that would take place on Barton IV, and of the need to remain undetected lest they cause important events to become changed. By the time they reached the village, night had fallen properly but there was still some activity in the streets.

“Jaing may be able help us determine when this Lieutenant Nolan and his crew is scheduled to arrive at the Barton IV depot, though you may have to offer him some of that uj cake you brought with you,” said Archer.

“Jaing?”

“Skirata. He’s one of Kal’s boys. He was at GGN, wearing a fairly memorable outfit. Pastel goth with tooka ears. He stole my socks too, actually,” said Archer with a bit of a smirk. “I’d like those back, they were a gift. Anyway, he’s a genius slicer and covert ops tactician, among other things.”

”I think I saw him, yeah. Wait, isn’t he an ARC?”

Archer shrugged noncommittally. “Kyrimorut is a haven for displaced Mando’ade, especially Vhett’s clones.” Archer looked around pointedly.

Choy followed her gaze and realized a good portion of the people on the streets shared very similar features. “Oh.” Choy thought for a moment. “I don’t think I ever saw mention of this place in any of the stories from home. I would for sure have remembered legends about a Mandalorian clone stronghold!”

”Hmm,” hummed Archer, “well, it is a closely guarded secret. I’ll have to speak with Eo about disclosing my location to aruettise.” She descended into a sunken entryway and paused in front of the apparent entrance to a large, primitive-looking dwelling constructed from green wood, vines, and matted mud.

”So our brilliant computer and tactical guy lives in a… hut?” Choy asked a bit incredulously.

With a smirk, Archer rapped her knuckles on the door twice and turned slightly to Choy. “This is a vheh’yaim, most of Clan Skirata lives here - at least part of the time.”

The door opened just then and in its frame stood a tall man with long black hair tied into a braid and dressed in grey and red Mandalorian beskar’gam.

Archer nodded at the man. “Fi. Ni trikari par ibic, al mhi linibar gaa’tayl.”

”Olarom vod, of course. And who do we have here?” he said, eyeing Choy with a grin, “you look familiar?”

Choy and Archer exchanged a glance. “This is Choy, she’s brought me some news. Is Jaing around? We could use his help with slicing into some Imperial systems.”

”Yeah, he’s down in the tech lab. Better bring him a snack though, he’s in a mood.”

”Choy brought some uj cake, we’re good,” Archer told Fi as she stepped through the door and moved aside for Choy. She watched as Choy’s jaw dropped open as she took in the interior of the Skirata home. Though the vheh’yaim appeared to be a simple structure from the surface, it was in fact a large, mostly subterranean facility. Hallways stretched in every direction leading to various rooms. Clan Skirata’s home contained a wealth of resources including a technology and communications lab, full medical facilities - with a microbiology and genetics lab, and full accommodations and kitchen facilities for the large number of people living there.

“Wow, this was unexpected.” Choy piped up.

“That’s the whole idea. This place is our sssseeeecret tunnellllll,” said Fi, making an attempt to sound ominous. “Say, you don’t have any extra uj cake to share, do you?” he asked, both eyebrows raised hopefully.

Choy pressed a dripping chunk of the sweet dessert into his outstretched hand. “Here you go, sweetie!”

”Ugh. Kandosii!” Fi stuffed the sticky mass into his mouth and began walking off, a giant grin on his face. “Jhatah’karahhh!” he wished them through his full mouth.

”This way” said Archer as she turned and walked down one of the halls. Choy followed her to a large room that was filled wall-to-wall with screens and consoles. A lone figure sat in front of one of the large screens. He turned to them as they entered the room.

Archer approached him and began conversing with him in Mando’a. She recognized his dire need for a snack and turned to Choy with her arm outstretched. She took the piece of cake Choy offered and plunked it on the empty plate sitting in front of Jaing at the console where he was working. She raised an eyebrow at him.

”Uj’koor!” He stated, grabbing the treat and beginning to devour it. “What do you need this information for?” he asked between bites.

”We need to liberate three clone troopers from the Imperial depot on Barton IV. Our timing must be precise, and unfortunately we must do this while this dikut’la ver’alor is on-world.” Archer looked back at Choy for confirmation. She nodded.

”More vode for the cause, hm? Very good. Give me some time, I’ll get you the information you need.”

“Vor’entye vod. You know how to reach me.” She nodded at Jaing and the pair of women left the slicer to his work.

***

A feeling of trepidation crept over her as the pair made their way back to her home. She could feel Choy’s worry and sense of urgency rolling off of her and she didn’t know how she was going to pull off this mission within the parameters Choy had laid out. She did know that she was going to find Mayday and she was going to get him the shab out of there, even if she had to reduce that depot to smoking rubble.

Not entirely sure who to tag here, so just taking a swing at this: @eobe @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @foxwithadarkside @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01 @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @eclec-tech

[fuzzyenthusiastnelket01]

Ohboyohboy, it continues to be suspenseful! 🫣

It sounds like a very delicate operation - especially if one tries to keep the timeline intact...

Hopefully, they manage to untie this gordian knot!

But that whole picture you're painting of Kyrimorut is so vivid 🤯

That story arc is an adventure from start to (not yet there) finish

"some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters"

Moderately unstable 🤣 that sentence got me

Echaaj'la

Part 2

(Part 1)

The continuation of this collaborative “fix-it”, post GGN tale. This has turned into a collaborative writing exercise between myself and @feralferrule, with input from a couple other vode. The thing I loved most about GGN was the collaboration and the reciprocal inspiration. Thanks so much to all of you for the ride!

Hang in there BIV boys, we’re coming!

Word Count ~5400

Synopsis - Joined by a couple friends, Archer and Choy get to know each other a little better while planning how they’re going to extract Hexx, Veetch, and Mayday from Barton IV without altering the timeline. Meanwhile, the Barton IV boys continue to freeze, still utterly baffled by their GGN ‘dreams’, but at least they were good dreams. 😙

Warnings: We’re trying to rope a bunch of chaos together (including some very non-canon shenanigans) and make it all behave. Let’s just go with it. 🤫 Some angsty-ness and tender moments. Archer isn’t sure how to process her feelings or worries. She needs a hug. Or maybe more of that pink drink.

Mando’a Words

Al’verde - commander

Aruetiise - Outsiders

Beskar’gam - armour

Beskaryc kar’ta - beskar heart

Copi - shortened from copikla, “cute”. Copi is Archer’s young rancor.

Haar Trak - “The Arrow”, Archer’s Kom'rk-class starfigher.

Kar’ta -  heart

Kov’nyn - the Mandalorian “Keldabe kiss”. The touching of foreheads, usually by helmeted individuals. Can be used in combat (I.e., a violent headbutt), but when performed gently, this gesture is an act of affection and trust (not exclusively romantic), and demonstrates a bond between the individuals involved. 

Ner - my

Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra - My soul is the night sky, and you are the moon and stars

Olarom - Welcome

Shab’la - screwed-up

Resol’nare - “The six actions”. Six tenets, central to the Mandalorian way of life.

Yaim’sik - home/house

Barton IV, Imperial Depot

Another frigid morning.  Not that there were ever warm mornings, but he’d settle for a plain cold one once in a while. Commander Mayday rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up from his cot. A thin skim of ice on the drab, grey duracrete walls of his bunk room shimmered in the pale light beginning to stream through the tiny window, and he could see each exhale as they puffed out in a swirling cloud in front of him. 

This was a miserable place to be. He and his squad had been assigned to guard the remote outpost and its cargo crates over a year ago. The base came under constant attack from raiders - local people, and over the months most of the squad had been lost in the conflicts. Morale was at an all-time low, the Empire had all but abandoned them to their icy fates, and all of his squad had been lost apart from two troopers - Hexx and Veetch.

A faint reflection of light caught his eye as he bent to pick up his armour from its neat stack on the floor. The pendant around his neck, a copper coloured metal hexagon, was swinging and catching the orange glow from his small, barely functional, heating device.  He paused to consider the simple pendant. It hung on a leather cord and had faint writing etched on it in runes he recognized as Mandalorian, but could not read.

He’d woken up one morning, about 6 months past and had discovered it hanging around his neck. The clothing strewn across the floor was not his usual blacks and his favourite, well his ONLY, pair of sunglasses had been missing.  He’d stormed into Hexx and Veetch’s quarters demanding to know what trouble they had been up to, only to find them arguing about some wild theory. About a dream. A dream with eerie similarities to the one he’d had that night, and had continued having since.  

The dream was difficult to remember, he had only brief images left when he awoke. A red rose woven into flowing brown hair.  A tattoo in the shape of his pendant, etched on a pale sternum. Soft hands running over his hair and along his cheeks. His forehead resting gently against another.  He always felt warm and a little less alone when he woke from this dream, but its appearance along with that of the pendant were utterly perplexing.  

Dreams couldn’t explain the appearance and disappearance of physical objects. He must have spent too much time trapped at this miserable base, he was loosing his grip on reality.  He’d spent several days trying to figure out what the kark had happened, but eventually gave it up for some quirk in the force. All he knew for sure, was that his new pendant was inexplicably dear to him (but couldn’t, sadly, shade his eyes from the glaring sun).  He rarely took it off, and kept it hidden in the collar of his blacks.

With a sigh, he resigned himself once again to possibly never finding the answers to all of the questions he had. He tucked his pendant into his collar and began to kit up in his amour, wondering if the reinforcements he’d requested 28 rotations ago would be arriving finally.

***

In the adjacent barracks Hexx and Veetch were also preparing for the day. Veetch was rummaging through his small crate of belongings when he came across an item of ladies lingerie. He considered the lacy scrap of cloth for a moment. It still faintly held the scent from it’s presumable former owner.  Together he and Hexx had a matching set.  But Hexx never wanted to talk about their secret treasures.  It felt like he’d gotten his in a dream, but that couldn’t be right - the fabric was real, he could hold it in his hands.  The more he tried to puzzle out the answer, the more foggy his dream-like memory became. It had to be just a dream.  A really good dream.  Like a children’s tale, full of mystery and magic.  He brushed the lacy fabric with his fingers one last time and then stood and headed out into the chill of the base. 

Hexx followed him silently, his thoughts also on the inexplicable appearance of items he and his brother kept secret. Veetch had some wild theories about the mysterious appearances and the recurring dreams he had about a mystery woman, but had given up trying to connect the dots after their Commander had reprimanded him for making a huge, slightly insane string board on the wall of their barracks.  The memory of the look on Mayday’s face when he’d first seen the huge art project still brought a smile to Hexx’s face.

Though he’d never admit it, Hexx had similar dreams, and often carried his treasure - a smaller scrap of lacy black fabric than Veetch had - with him through the day, convinced that it gave him good luck.  He surreptitiously checked for its presence in one of his belt boxes.  It was there, and the woman he’d gotten it from had to be out there too, she had to be real.  He felt assured it was going to be a good day.

***

Kyrimorut, Mandalore 

“This way, watch your head.” Archer held open a low door that curiously appeared to be hewn directly into the trunk of a vast veshok tree growing next to a pristine lake at the northern edge of the village.  Choy ducked inside the door and found herself in an expansive, partially underground space.  Numerous starships of varying sizes rested inside, gleaming in the low, artificial light.

“Wow.  Mandalorians really love their secret, hidden spaces, huh?” said Choy.  Archer chuckled.  “Well, this is a secret stronghold for some very high-profile, moderately unstable and ridiculously wealthy military deserters, ex-Jedi and other similarly unsavoury characters.  We don’t exactly want to hang out an olarom sign for the Empire.” Archer smirked.

Archer had just received a message from Jaing, the information specialist they’d visited not an hour before.  He’d informed them that an Imperial shuttle was scheduled to deploy to Barton IV two standard rotations from now.  They didn’t have much time to waste so they’d come to prepare to leave for Barton IV.

Archer led her in the direction of the large hangar door, which appeared to open directly out from the side of the tree under which the hangar was build, opposite the small door they had just entered by.  There was a medium-sized starship parked here, its wings in an upright position.  As they approached the side of the ship, a woman in dark crimson coveralls slid out from underneath it wiping grease from her hands with a rag.

“Choy, this is Parja.  Parja, Choy,” Archer introduced.  She turned to Choy.  “Parja is our resident mechanic and general technical specialist.  She’s Fi’s partner. Parja,” she said turning back towards the other woman, “thanks for doing my preflight-check on such short notice.  I’m afraid we’ve have to depart unexpectedly quickly.”

Choy studied the fierce-looking mechanic.  She looked pretty familiar, and she knew they’d met briefly. “Oh! We met at GAR Goth Night,” she realized out loud.  

Parja raised an eyebrow, “Where? ‘GAR’ as in Grand Army of the Republic?”

Choy looked questioningly at Archer who nodded [[She’s safe, just remember I’m on the down low.]] Choy gave her a subtle wink and turned back to Parja.

“Parja, I’m glad to really meet you. I only just saw you across the dance floor at 79’s on Coruscant months ago. You were dancing with your husband and his brother and Archer.” Parja squinted her eyes and looked just over Choy’s head.  “Everyone was dressed in black and the clone bar was decorated all spooky? Do you remember?” 

She shook her head, casting her gaze around, “I, I thought I had some dreams kind of like that. Fi hasn’t mentioned anything like it,” she looked at Archer. “You were there? With us?” Archer nodded.

“I can help you remember,” Choy offered, holding up her hand. “I’m no Jedi but I can do the same stuff they can. The place had some special power over it that night that gave us all amnesia, but someone helped me remember and I helped Archer.” 

Again Parja looked to Archer for confirmation. 

Choy continued, “May I jog your memory?” She held out her hand, “I promise the rest of your mind is safe, I won’t go poking around or anything,” Choy smiled. Parja nodded and placed her hand on Choy’s. Choy stepped closer, placed her other hand on Parja’s and began radiating calm and reassuring energy toward her. 

“I will show you images, [[of the club from my memories.]] Choy switched to speaking through the force. She sent safe welcoming energy into Parja’s brain, visualizing a mist lifting off of her mind. Choy then projected her own memory of Parja arriving at 79’s with Rav, her outfit, her husband, the dancing. [[it was a theme night at 79’s, gothic, melancholy, romantic]] she showed her the other patrons, the decor, the performers on stage. She coaxed out Parja’s suspended memories frozen by the strange fogginess that she could feel in the force around people who had been at GGN. 

Parja drew a sharp breath, “Yes, that’s like my dream. Oh, this all really happened. I was there!”

Choy continued. [[Archer met a clone commander in the GAR - well Empire now - Mayday, who went through quite the effort to woo her.]] Choy showed Mayday giving her the rose and a snippet of how they looked at each other.

Archer watched Parja’s expression soften from surprise and wonder to something happier as she caught Archer’s eye. Choy felt Parja’s caring and gladness directed toward her friend, and noticed Archer crossing her arms, cheeks colouring a bit.

[[And I- well, I hit it off with his men.]] Choy carefully parsed the more intimate memories from her projection into Parja’s mind, but some of the emotion slipped through, the infatuation, the deep concern. Parja’s attention was back on Choy, Archer noting her raised eyebrows and Choy’s blush.  

[[I know what terrible things are going to happen to these men, and have come here to ask Archer for her help to rescue them from the Imperial base they are stationed at.]] Choy showed her memory of the images of Barton IV, the explosion, the row of helmets, Mayday with a heavy heart, the avalanche, Crosshair, and the cold, indifferent Imperial officer. Mayday dead in the snow. 

“The Empire is throwing clones away like trash, abusing them, even experimenting on them now.” Choy said out loud with restrained passion, blinking back tears. She released Parja’s hand with a quick squeeze to bring her back to the here and now. “Thank you for listening,” Choy added and stepped back out of Parja’s personal space.

Parja blinked slowly and then looked to Archer. “So now you’re flying off to some Imperial installation, without a plan, or backup, to extract three random clones?”

Archer scoffed. ”Who said I don’t have a plan?” 

”Does your “plan” involve a crate of thermal detonators?”

Archer shrugged non-commitally, a huge grin on her face.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scorch.” Parja smirked, then turned serious. “But you know better than to think we’ll let you go to infiltrate an Imperial base by yourself, Keb. I’m coming with you and we’re bringing Fi too,” she continued, walking off.  

“Your ship’s grounded until we come back!” she shouted over her shoulder as she left through the small door, heading towards the Skirata home.

Choy looked at Archer quizzically. “Keb?”

”My name.  It’s Kebii’tra.  “Archer” is a nickname of sorts.”

Choy nodded as she considered the irony that her own name now was a nickname derived from Archer’s language. She looked around at the space and wondered about the construction of the place and how these enormous compounds couldn’t be older than the huge trees above. 

She looked at the comically small door that Parja had just left through and tipped her head. “So if you want to use the force on this adventure, you can just blame me. But that Parja’s a good egg. Would you ever feel safe coming out to her as a force user? Why’d you tell me anyway? You have that pink booze they were passing out? That stuff was something else.” Choy waved a hand up dismissively, and cast her gaze around Archer’s ship. “You don’t have to answer any of this, I’m just thinking out loud right now. But if she’s going to help- which is great, don’t get me wrong, I just think that says a lot about how much she cares about you.” She turned to Archer and looked her in the eyes, “Now, I’ll take your secret to my grave but I don’t think you should have to.”

Archer shrugged in Choy’s direction.  “They liberate and take in defected clones here.  It’s part of the reason this place exists, and it’s how they live by the Resol’nare.  But Mandalorians have a long… tumultuous history with force users.  The conflicts between us have shaped our culture for centuries.  Distrust of the Jedi runs deep in our blood, and Mandalorian force users may be hidden away or shunned. It’s different here, people are less traditional, obviously, but I don’t have a great many friends and I don’t want to lose any because I’m different.”

Choy didn’t fail to notice the slightly pained look that briefly crossed Archer’s face.  

”And to your second question,” she said abruptly changing the subject, “You threatened me.” Choy received a teasingly wicked grin. “It was only fair I let you know what you were getting yourself into,” she said with a wink. 

Continuing, she said, “Since you mentioned them, those pink drinks - what did they do to us? They made me feel strange. Like I wasn’t quite myself in some ways. I did some things I wouldn’t normally have, and everything I felt seemed exaggerated. It was all so intense by the end of the night. ” 

“Hold up,” Choy laughed, “Is it really a threat if I don't know you can hear me?” she smirked at the other woman. “Anyway, yeah we were definitely in an altered state,” she squinted her eyes and thought back to that night. “I’ve had a while to reflect on this and I believe what I was feeling was genuine. Like, I was really annoyed with Jesse, but I was already annoyed with him. I avoided Echo after the drinks because I knew my heart would break in a million pieces if I saw him. I felt very platonic toward the Bad Batchers and all the ladies felt like sisters I never had. It was like I felt everything stronger, but it all came from me.”   

She shifted her weight to one leg and held a hand out. “But would I have jumped in the sack with two men had I been sober?” She shrugged, “Possibly. Probably- honestly,” she nodded, “ that’s exactly what I would have done then. I was still hormonal like a tooka in heat- sorry, I know, TMI. But between the force being new for me and the stupid GAR-issue birth control implant, I was a hot mess. I still have to focus every day just to manage it, but it’s better. I wasn’t eased into the force from birth like you or anyone else in this galaxy. Yoda said it’s the nature of power to fill voids. Apparently I was a void,” Choy added sardonically, eyebrows raised. 

She looked at Archer again who seemed not at all reassured. Choy sighed, “Here’s what I think- whatever you did with Mayday, that came from your heart. It didn’t feel like regular drunk inhibition to me and you didn’t seem drugged. I’ve seen that and your mind felt clear. We’ll just have to see how we feel about the guys when we get them, and how they feel about us, too. Who knows, maybe we just end up rescuing them and it’s like catch and release.”

She paused and stepped a little closer to Archer, “Hey, nothing you did was inherently bad. Do Mandalorians have cultural rules, taboos about this sort of thing? Or your own rules you have for yourself?”

“There’s no cultural taboo. Far from it.”  Archer paused, looking a little uncomfortable. “I’m just…not usually into the casual scene I guess.  I don’t really regret anything, I’m just still unsure how things seemed to move so quickly for me. And of what that might mean.”

Choy sensed something behind Archer’s words, but let it be for the time being.

Archer continued, unprompted. “I gave him my kar’ta…” she admitted. “He was still loyal to the Empire, I couldn’t tell him about this place,” she gestured around them, “couldn’t yet offer him, them, a place to get away to.  But still, I gave it to him.”

“Your kar’ta?” Choy asked her, unsure of what she meant, but sensing a weight to the admission. 

“My heart. My beskar heart - from my armour,” she hedged slightly.  “He hung it around his neck, and wore it as a pendant the rest of the night.”

“I’ve read that piece is special.  It symbolizes the heart and spirit of the Mandalorian people, right?”  She eyed Archer knowingly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she trailed off, apparently unprepared to go further.

”Hey,” Archer began anew, once again changing the course of the conversation, “since we have a bit of time before Parja comes back with Fi, let's head back to my yaim’sik for a minute.  I should introduce - or maybe reintroduce - you to someone.”

“Yes, of course,” Choy said a little absentmindedly. She followed Archer out of the little door and back through the woods. She was considering how deeply affected Archer seemed to be by her dalliance with Mayday. Choy felt deep guilt seeping up. A memory of Hexx throwing the back room key to Mayday at her suggestion played across her mind. She realized that she had drawn Archer into the storm she was caught in, her lack of boundary and control stoking that far deeper power than the force, the fires of desire, the very thing driving all the conflict and war for power around them. She realized that maybe she wasn’t supposed to be here just for the boys, but for Archer, too. She felt a strong resolve to help Archer regain her sense of integrity and to set things right. 

Sensing her inner turmoil, Archer looked back at Choy who had straggled behind with her thoughts. Choy just smiled and quickened her pace. “So who’s the mystery person? Someone from GGN, I’d imagine?”

”Oh yes, I think you’ll quite like her.”

***

Hyperspace, en-route from Mandalore to Barton IV

Archer reclined in the pilot’s chair of her Kom’rk-class starfighter - Haar Trak  - content for the moment to rest and process some of the memories and information Choy had unlocked. They were presently speeding through hyperspace on their way from Mandalore to Barton IV, a journey that was nearly complete. 

Parja and Fi had joined them, Parja being convinced that they would need the help.  Or maybe she was just eager for another opportunity to see some of their new gear tested in action.  She wasn't sure.  Both Parja and Fi had spoken with Choy and were relieved of the fog over their memories.  They were now seated towards the rear of the ship, conversing quietly.

 Choy was seated beside her in the copilot’s chair, apparently lost within her own thoughts. She’d made it clear to them that in order to maintain the integrity of future events,  the three clones must be extracted without the knowledge of anyone on Barton IV, and that they must all be believed to have been killed in action. This was going to be… interesting.

The Imperial clone trooper known as Crosshair would soon be arriving on Barton IV with one Lieutenant Nolan. Crosshair had been at GGN and had seemed to know Mayday then.  It was curious that this day would be the first time they’d be meeting, according to Choy. Now that she was thinking of the people she’d seen that night, she realized there were quite a few people there who seemed to be from another time.  Curious. She wondered, not for the first time, what purpose the minstrels had had for bringing all of those beings together the way they had. What a story that must be.

This mission to free the three steadfast clones trapped on Barton IV was the right thing to do, and aligned with Kyriomorut’s objective of liberating and bringing more vode to the stronghold. But she’d also promised Mayday she’d come for him, and she felt compelled to fulfill that promise - no matter the ultimate outcome.  Sure, he hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant and probably didn’t remember anything about that night, but still she’d given her word.

 Choy had made it clear that all three men had experienced much in the past months and would be happy to move on to a different life, if given the chance.  It was time to fulfill her promise, then.  She recalled the last few moments of GGN, and felt her resolve strengthen. The memory played before her eyes.

Mayday hugged her close at a table near the bar, she was seated sideways across his lap. He laid his head against her shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He sighed deeply as she waved to Eo and her squad as they departed for the night. 

She looked down at him and stroked his hair soothingly with her free hand as the tumult of emotions roiling inside him washed over her. He’d seemed lost in thought, trapped in a loop of “what-if’s”.

“Are you tired, Al’verde?” she’d asked. 

He’d looked up at her, his large eyes tinged with emotions she didn’t want to name. It was a heartbreaking look, and one she couldn’t deny held more than just weariness.

 “No.” 

“Then what’s wrong, ner kar’ta?”

“The club is closing soon.” He paused for a long moment, searching her gaze and clutching her more tightly to him. “And I don’t want to leave.” 

She’d looked up then, noticing that indeed the club was beginning to clear out, patrons saying their farewells and making their way to the exit. Hexx and Veetch had been hovering nearby, both looking dispirited after Choy’s departure. It was time for them to go as well. 

Setting her nearly empty glass of pink-drink down on the table behind her she pressed her palm to Mayday’s cheek, running her thumb back and forth softly. He leaned into the touch.  

“Shab,” she thought to herself with a heavy sigh of her own, “this one is the call for help that has brought me more trouble.” What was it that made these three bearded troopers so sweet and hard to deny? And why-oh-why must they still be with the Empire? Why couldn’t she just offer him and his men a safe place to go?”

She’d brought her forehead to rest against his in a gentle kov’nyn and said softly, “Ner runi cuyi ca’tra, bal gar me’suum’ika bal ka’ra.” She knew that he’d probably understood only a few of the words but she could feel their impact on him nonetheless. 

Their fast-growing attachment to each other was probably obvious to everyone in the club.  She should have kept her distance, knowing they would inevitably have to part - maybe permanently - at the end of the night, but she’d been as helpless in the end to the mysterious atmosphere of GGN as everyone else.

”Come with me?” he’d asked then. 

Before she’d been able formulate a response Hexx and Veetch appeared over his shoulder and cleared their throats.

”Uhm, commander?  Sir?” Veetch spoke hesitantly.

Mayday’s posture stiffened immediately, and he nearly growled his response. “I know, Veetch.”

Mayday sighed once again before rising from the chair and setting her on her feet. He took her hand in his, and as a group they walked towards the doors. He paused with her, eyeing the two troopers meaningfully. They walked through the doors with a nod… and seemed to fade in a pink-tinged mist that definitely hadn’t been there a moment ago.

What the kark? She hadn’t questioned that at the time. Mayday hadn’t seemed to notice.

He was hesitating, his reluctance to go etched in every line of his posture and rippling off him in strong pulses. His eyes said everything he wouldn’t voice. She squeezed his hand and tried to send a subtle wave of calm reassurance to him. He took a shaky breath and crushed her to his chest.  She squeezed him back as he said, “I’ll comm you. Promise.”

He pulled back and grinned at her. Mand’alor, that cheeky smile was contagious. She returned it with a wink and kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t forget, Al’verde. I’ll come after you if you do, and I’ll bring Copi,” she threatened teasingly.

“Promise?”

“Ni haat’mitir.”

Eyes shining, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. He turned quickly and passed through the doorway, fading away in swirling pinkish mist.

Again she hadn’t questioned that decidedly not normal departure at the time. 

And of course, he hadn’t contacted her.  She’d promised to come after him, and now she was. But the uncertainty she felt about where would they would stand after all the time that had passed was distracting. She sighed quietly.  “Stop it,” she chided herself.

It didn’t matter what happened after.  Getting the three men away from the Empire, saving their lives, giving them a chance to live and make their own choices was all that mattered. She was a professional.  She was not going to let these dikut’la pink-mist generated emotions and worries get in the way of completing this mission with everyone intact.

Clearing her throat, Archer turned fully in her seat to face Choy. ”Show me again, the events of the afternoon when we’ll have to get your two lads out.”  Choy took Archer’s offered hand and sent images of Crosshair overhearing an urgent comm message from Veetch relaying that Hexx had been taken down by raiders, followed by images of a shuttle stationed in front of the base exploding and sending a man in clone trooper armour - Veetch - flying through the air.

Parja and Fi, overhearing the activity joined the planning in the cockpit.

”It seems as though there are only a couple minutes between when Veetch reports Hexx to have been taken down at the back of this depot and when he himself is caught up in this shuttle explosion near the southwestern end.” Archer said, deep in thought.

“Yes, and Crosshair will be closely watching the shuttle explosion from the eastern watchtower, while Mayday is investigating in the northwestern area.  The light from the detonation will blind Crosshair temporarily but only for a few seconds.  There won’t be much time to get to Veetch without him noticing us,” said Choy.

“Hm.  We’ll have to split up into two teams to get to both men in time, I think,” Archer returned. “If we can covertly station one team on the east side near where the raiders make initial hard contact with Hexx and Veetch behind the barracks building, they can provide the boys with some subtle non-lethal cover fire and transport Hexx to the ship after Veetch breaks away to the south towards the shuttle.  A covert stun-shot on Hexx while Veetch has his back turned should maintain his story of being taken down and prevent him from actually being shot.”

Choy looked slightly aghast at the idea of deliberately stunning Hexx, but said, “I’m a pretty good shot, I can probably manage that.”

Fi brightened.  “Looks like you’re teaming up with me!  I’ve heard I’m ok with a blaster rifle.” He winked. Parja rolled her eyes fondly.

“Make sure you’re not firing unless you really need to.  Stun bolts will be really obvious and if anyone notices, your cover will be blown”, Parja added. “But what about the other man, Veetch?”

Archer crossed her arms. “You and I will get him.  This might be a good chance to try out that new remote override device you guys been working on. You up for a covert installation and remote “self-destruction” of an imperial shuttle?”

“You know it.” Parja smiled.  She was always game for testing out new tech. Especially if it caused a little mayhem for the Empire.

If we detonate that shuttle just a bit earlier than what Choy’s seen, it’ll still provide the flash of light we need for visual cover, and it’ll throw Veetch up into the right spot without it being fatal for him.  If my timing is right, I should be able to jet in and snatch him from the air as he’s blown back away from the shuttle.” Archer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose the intensity of the explosion may be enough to explain the fact that he is suddenly missing too.”

“Wait,” Choy interjectected, “you can carry the weight of an armoured man while flying your jetpack?” asked Choy a bit doubtfully.

“I once scooped up a fully Katarn-armoured commando.  Dropped him in a mud pit.  It was hilarious,” Archer reflected with a smile. 

“You… what?” Choy blinked incredulously.

“He called Copi ugly.”  Archer shrugged. “Anyway, these skinny lads shouldn’t be a problem”.

“Wow, ok.”  Choy blinked.  “Oh!  We’ll have to make sure some armour pieces stay behind, or at least their helmets.” Archer looked at Choy questioningly. “Trust me,” said Choy.  

Archer shrugged. “Very well.”

Fi wondered, “The base’s perimeter sensor array may be problematic for us trying to stage ahead of time. Do you have an explosive plan to deal with that too?” 

Archer considered for a moment.  “If what Choy’s shown us is accurate, their sensors are shab’la.  But we may be safest to get into position after the raiders have triggered the alarm themselves. Timing will be tight, but we’ll avoid detection, save time, and it should be workable with all the chaos, right?”

“The larger concern though is the likelihood that those troopers will have no memory of us and will probably resist our abduction efforts. Choy, can you remedy that before they regain consciousness?”

“They should be conscious for me to help them remember. I think I can handle them though.” Choy smiled at the group reassuringly.

“And Mayday?” Archer asked gravely.  “When can we get Mayday out?”

Choy glanced to the side for a moment, before returning her gaze to meet Archer’s. “Mayday has to believe that Hexx and Veetch are gone.  He has to stay with Crosshair for a bit longer. Just until the next morning. It’s Crosshair befriending Mayday, being saved by him, and then witnessing what he thinks is Mayday’s death that lets him move past the Empire. It seems cruel, but I believe it has to happen.  For the sake of a lot of lives.”

There was a long silence, as the group looked at each other. Archer felt deeply unsettled.  “We have to allow him to be injured and then appear to die under these horrible circumstances? What if he does die?”

She wasn’t sure she could remain composed if she had to witness that.  

”I’m almost certain he doesn’t,” responded Choy immediately.  “At least not right there, like I showed you.  Fi interjected “He certainly will suffering from hypothermia, which in its final stages can cause loss of consciousness. Pulse and respirations can be difficult to detect too. We will need to get him quickly to the ship and stabilize any injuries he’s got from the avalanche.  He’ll probably need the bacta tank back home.”

[[I believe you can get to him in time, and we can look after him and Hexx and Veetch.  It’s all going to work out, you’ll see.]]  Choy was looking at Archer, and she felt her trying to convey confidence and reassurance. “We can do this,” Choy then said aloud to the group.

The ship’s navicomputer emitted an auditory tone before dropping the craft out of hyperspace.  The icy visage of Barton IV loomed large in the viewscreen.  Archer looked at her hastily assembled rescue squad and nodded. 

“Well, we’ll soon find out.”

Tagging same folks as last time - let me know if it’s a bother! @eobe @lonewolflupe @ghostymarni @foxwithadarkside @nocturius8015ficore @feralferrule @noblelightfighter @fuzzyenthusiastnelket01

[eobe]

✨🤩 Oooooh Mayday! 🫠 The EEEEYYYYES and I‘m swooning over the gentleman moves and then how he looks at Archer 🥵🪭 And Archer looking so beautiful and badass 🥰😽✨

Full Metal Mando 😎

The forces of chaos have conspired against pep-talked me into committing a terrible sin participating in the latest GGN trend (shirt removal). You four have corrupted me. You know who you are. 😱

I made a small attempt to avoid this, but apparently it would make at least one person happy, so what the heck. The minstrels were busy, and left the music stage full of gear during their break (I borrowed your amp, thanks guys! @noblelightfighter ), so now not only do you have to view this spectacle, you get to listen to it as well! 😜 Commence the metal Dha Werda Verda! 🎶 🦇 ⛓️‍💥 (mild spice below cut)

I don’t think this is what my clan meant by “Full Metal Mando”...

Ok, someone take me to the chill-out room. I need a moment. Haha. 🫣😎

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ordo-core @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

[wings-and-beskargam]

I don’t often babble incoherently, but AKFJDLKAFJKLADSFJALKSFJASKLFJALSKF!

Look at that sweet little face! That is the incredulous look of a man who is a total goner. With the bokeh effect, it’s 👌. There’s no way he’s going back to Barton IV now. (Mandalore is much warmer, btw)😏

These two! Omg. Oh so romantic and sweet and considerate 🩵😭🩵, but his look in the last image? 🔥 🔥 Archers turn to melt. 😘 🫠🫠🫠🥹

*Nose kiss* “Your boys are approaching with their date.”

Full Metal Mando 😎

The forces of chaos have conspired against pep-talked me into committing a terrible sin participating in the latest GGN trend (shirt removal). You four have corrupted me. You know who you are. 😱

I made a small attempt to avoid this, but apparently it would make at least one person happy, so what the heck. The minstrels were busy, and left the music stage full of gear during their break (I borrowed your amp, thanks guys! @noblelightfighter ), so now not only do you have to view this spectacle, you get to listen to it as well! 😜 Commence the metal Dha Werda Verda! 🎶 🦇 ⛓️‍💥 (mild spice below cut)

I don’t think this is what my clan meant by “Full Metal Mando”...

Ok, someone take me to the chill-out room. I need a moment. Haha. 🫣😎

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ordo-core @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

[noblelightfighter]

Wait. Those were his sunglasses ��

I just now realized that!

Full Metal Mando 😎

The forces of chaos have conspired against pep-talked me into committing a terrible sin participating in the latest GGN trend (shirt removal). You four have corrupted me. You know who you are. 😱

I made a small attempt to avoid this, but apparently it would make at least one person happy, so what the heck. The minstrels were busy, and left the music stage full of gear during their break (I borrowed your amp, thanks guys! @noblelightfighter ), so now not only do you have to view this spectacle, you get to listen to it as well! 😜 Commence the metal Dha Werda Verda! 🎶 🦇 ⛓️‍💥 (mild spice below cut)

I don’t think this is what my clan meant by “Full Metal Mando”...

Ok, someone take me to the chill-out room. I need a moment. Haha. 🫣😎

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ordo-core @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

[fuzzyenthusiastnelket01]

These two are so cute together - If your caf is too bitter, just look at them for a while and then the caf is almost too sweet!

And the art is again really, really good!

Full Metal Mando 😎

The forces of chaos have conspired against pep-talked me into committing a terrible sin participating in the latest GGN trend (shirt removal). You four have corrupted me. You know who you are. 😱

I made a small attempt to avoid this, but apparently it would make at least one person happy, so what the heck. The minstrels were busy, and left the music stage full of gear during their break (I borrowed your amp, thanks guys! @noblelightfighter ), so now not only do you have to view this spectacle, you get to listen to it as well! 😜 Commence the metal Dha Werda Verda! 🎶 🦇 ⛓️‍💥 (mild spice below cut)

I don’t think this is what my clan meant by “Full Metal Mando”...

Ok, someone take me to the chill-out room. I need a moment. Haha. 🫣😎

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @eobe @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ordo-core @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

[wings-and-beskargam]

Oh, wowwwwww. Ni kar'tayli Al’verde Mayday darasuum. 🥰

Much more of this, and I’m going to voluntarily combust. What have you done? 🫠🫠🫠🫠😘

Ok, but seriously - the use of the kar’ta beskar as the backdrop and the abstract bits… genius. This is a flawless adaptation of this Klimt piece, and I’m absolutely in love. This has so much meaning for me, I can’t even tell you. It makes my inner Mando’ad feel very seen. Vor’entye/Thank you for this. 🩵

The comm # I don't think a reference is needed for this one x3

A stolen tag list is being stolen @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas