#datacard
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freakdroids · 3 months ago
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Data winking at Picard and scanning him w his eyes. last gif is a slowed down version so u can more easily see it
#my stuff#Data#Picard#Data Soong#Data star trek#Data tng#Jean-Luc Picard#Jean Luc Picard#Picard tng#star trek tng#sttng#st tng#datacard#im not saying i ship them bc im just so aspec and they obviously have like a kind of familial vibe but im not gonna lie this activates#something in me#particularly in combination with how Picard ended this conversation by saying Datas resourcefulness never ceases to amaze him#its a pretty mundane scene but i just think its neat yknow. marge.jpg#my gifs#star trek gifs#Data unloads so much information at once and then hes like “There's more.” and Picard is like oh?#yknow........#also im pretty sure Brent probably didnt mean to wink right. like its just. an artifact of being human sometimes i know how it is and it#would be hard to make sense of in this scene anyway but god i just think its so fun to think about#why in the world Data might be having this kind of twitch while talking to Picard#hes putting a lot of effort into this mission !! hes reporting to daddy...................................... sorry but like....... come on#like LOOK ..........what is all that.. his face is so serious hes like being so dutiful but i think hes also like happy to be helping#as always but it comes thru in this scene. in a way i dont always notice in others#the real reason it got my attention was bc of what Picard said at the end and his vibe too like he was listening so attentively and#patiently and he had this vibe of gratitude and almost a deference#tbh i imagine its bc he knows Data Follows Procedure so he doesnt feel the need to put on the Captain act so much
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archangelofthestars · 3 months ago
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Wow…. Datacard old man yaoi?? Real?
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offpagebloggers · 4 months ago
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sitenesia · 1 year ago
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Harden Your Web! Optimalkan Keamanan Website dan Hadapi Ancaman Cyber Security dengan SSL Indonesia!
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nyalternatehellkitten · 1 year ago
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"Hmmm, you really want a meat pie, don't you~?"
Nyalter's turn to play a prank. Like any good cat... she's going to be unreasonable.
"Well, I can't deny that you would get me back to the bakery a bit faster than if I were to walk..."
Since Tenshi was acting quite suspicious earlier and has suddenly developed a weakness to pies, Nyalter might as well as take advantage of it. Besides, she's a lower-class cat who enjoys messing with the high-borns.
"Depends on how badly you want a pie, I guess~"
Fly the supplies back, like... a servant? Or a pack animal? There's no way Tenshi's pride would ever allow such a thing!
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Wait, no, she's actually entertaining the thought. That's wrong. Don't do it. Your prank is falling apart. You have pride, show it.
But meat pie.
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"Very well. That sounds... wonderful. Shall I carry you too?" She's more than capable, and it would expedite the pie acquisition... She doesn't know why she's even going this far, either. Just for some reason, she feels like she has to try this pie.
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dindjarindiaries · 6 months ago
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Pulling Punches
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompt: "Look, I know I probably should have backed off and I apologize." "No, honestly it was kind of hot." "What?"
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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You sighed and set your hands on your hips, leaning close enough so that your muttered words could only be shared between the two of you. “Din, honestly. I’ll be fine in there.” You gestured with your head to the cantina’s threshold. “Just stay out here and watch my back. Okay?”
Din shifted his weight between his feet and flexed one of his gloved hands. The other rose to adjust his vambrace. With a heavy exhale of defeat and a swing of his helmet, he relented. “Fine.” His visor found you again. “Just—.”
“Be careful.” You huffed and gave his armored shoulder a playful punch. “I know. I can handle myself.” You turned towards the door and spoke to him over your shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few.”
With that, you strode forward. The door slid open for you, and you felt Din’s gaze lingering on your back until the closing door made it impossible for him to see you any longer.
You rolled your eyes. Honestly, for a man who had yet to even mention the idea of being with you romantically, he was so unnecessarily protective.
The cantina on this world was crowded that night, practically shoulder-to-shoulder as you wove your way towards the actual bar. You were soon close enough to spot the familiar blue skin of the Twi’lek bartender, and after raising your hand and keeping your eye on them, you caught their attention. The Twi’lek woman smiled and waved you forward.
“Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly as you stepped up to greet the bartender. “I know I’m a bit late.”
The Twi’lek raised an unimpressed brow, despite the glint of fondness in her gaze. “‘A bit’? It was two full rotations.”
You shrugged. “Kark happens.” You subtly scanned your surroundings and lowered your voice. “Do you still have it?”
The Twi’lek hummed a positive note as she finished pouring a drink. “It’s in the back.” She picked up the glass in her hand and nodded. “I’ll go grab it.”
Your face softened in gratitude, even as your fists tightened on top of the bar. You wouldn’t feel much better until the datacard was in your hands.
Just as you watched the blue Twi’lek disappear into a back room, the man on your left started to speak to you. “Never seen you here before.”
You huffed and cut your gaze at him. “Moved off world a few cycles ago.”
“Makes sense.” He shuffled closer to you. “I’d remember a face like yours.”
You let out a low chuckle and glanced over at him, amused. “Oh, yeah?”
The man hummed his agreement and gave you an obvious once-over. “What brings you back here?”
You offered him a shrug. “Just visiting an old friend.” You gestured with your head to where the bartender had gone.
“Well…” The man’s hand slid closer to yours on the bar top. “I’m glad you did.”
Your eyes narrowed as you looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not staying long.”
His brow rose slowly. “I won’t need long.”
You frowned and pulled your hand closer to yourself. “Okay, then let me make myself clear: I don’t want whatever you’re trying to offer me.”
The man chuckled. “Playing hard to get? Really?”
You crossed your arms, but kept your hands pulled tight into fists, ready to punch if you had to. “I’m not ‘playing’ at all.”
The man lifted his hand as if he was about to set it on your shoulder. “Then let me help you—.”
Whatever else he was saying was lost in the shuffle of someone stepping in between the two of you so quickly that you nearly jumped into the person on your right. The flash of silver was all you needed to see to identify who it was that had grabbed the man’s wrist so hard that you audibly heard it crack.
The man gasped in both pain and surprise, but Din didn’t release his wrist, not even as he spoke. “Lay a single hand on them, and I’ll cut it off.”
The man sputtered before he tried to snatch his wrist away from Din. “Alright, alright! Relax.”
“This is me relaxed.” Din still didn’t relinquish his grip. “You don’t want to see me when I’m not. Do I make myself clear?”
The man huffed indignantly. “Yeah, yeah! Whatever. Just let me go!”
You observed the attention you were suddenly getting and sighed. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes. “Let him go, Din.”
Din hesitated, but you soon heard movement as he dropped the man’s hand. You reopened your eyes to see the man cradling his bruising wrist and glaring between both you and Din. His words were directed towards you when he spoke again. “You could at least fight your own battles.”
You were ready to do exactly that, but Din beat you to it. He slammed his elbow into the back of the man’s head, forcing his front half to fold over the bar top, and then punched the man’s gut to make him fall back a few steps. Din’s final hit was an uppercut that had the man knocked out in seconds.
The man hit the floor, and the cantina froze for a single moment in time as Din flexed both his hands and spoke to the limp body underneath him. “They don’t have to.”
You should’ve been mortified by his actions, and part of you was, but mostly… you were hit with a rush of warmth that brought a fond smile to your lips. Din was always protective, sure, but this was something different. This was a fight to protect your honor.
Like he had said, a battle you could have fought on your own, but you didn’t have to, because he wanted to do it for you.
Din then shook his helmet as if pulling himself out of a trance and turned around to face you. He took a step closer, as if he was about to start speaking, but your attention was pulled away by the bartender returning.
“Here.” The Twi’lek woman handed you the datacard, and you thanked her quietly. Her gaze fell to the man on the floor, and her brow raised as she let out a relived exhale. “Oh, finally. Someone took care of that guy.”
You frowned in confusion. “What?”
The bartender nodded at the body. “Guy’s been harassing our patrons for weeks.”
“Oh.” You looked down at the man and kicked his limp foot with your boot. “Good riddance.”
The Twi’lek huffed in agreement and only briefly looked between you and Din. She smiled and nodded towards the door. “Be safe out there.”
“And you be safe in here.”
With those words and a small smile of your own, you turned towards the door and started making your way out. It was admittedly easier, though, with Din at your side, as he had no trouble pushing people out of the way for both of you.
As soon as you were making your way back to the ship, Din began to speak. “Look.”
He let out a soft breath as his visor glanced over at you.
“I know I probably should have backed off.” He looked down at the fist he’d punched with and flexed it. “I apologize.”
You hummed, pretending to consider his apology. “No. Honestly…” You shrugged. “It was kind of hot.”
Din’s helmet whipped towards you so fast that you’re surprised he didn’t actually trip a step. “What?”
You laughed, shaking your head as you bumped your side against his. “I’m being serious!”
Din’s helmet tilted at you. “But you’re laughing.”
“Because it’s funny.”
Din sighed. “What’s funny?”
You nodded at him. “You being so shocked that I find you attractive.”
Din stiffened in clear embarrassment as he focused on the way ahead. “Are we really doing this here?”
You pretended to be disappointed. “So, you’re saying you didn’t do what you did because you find me attractive?”
Din’s helmet turned towards you again. “I never said that.”
Your teasing smile was impossible to fight. “Then you do think I’m attractive?”
Din suddenly stopped in his tracks, letting out an exhale heavy enough to make you hold back a laugh. He took you by the arm and pulled you aside to keep you out of the way as he responded.
“Clearly. How many more people do I have to punch to make that obvious?”
You blinked at him before you burst out laughing again. "Din, there has to be a better way for you to tell me how you feel."
Din shrugged. "I was raised a fighter."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Not a lover?"
"Jury's still out."
You snorted in amusement. Din, however, was quick to shift gears, his hand lowering from your arm to your back as his visor gave your surroundings a cautious glance.
"Now, can I please get you back to the ship safely, and then we can discuss this more properly?" He tilted his helmet at you. "Or, in your case, laugh about it."
You gave your eyes a playful roll, though the smile on your lips told a different story. "Fine." You nodded towards the way ahead. "Just try not to punch anyone else."
Din huffed and gave your back a gentle tap. "No promises."
Given what additional insight you had now regarding Din's motivations, you found your smile widening as you stayed close to his side, at last fully grateful to be within his protective reach.
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areyoufuckingcrazy · 4 months ago
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“Theoretical Feelings”
Tech x Female Reader
“Tech, you’re smarter than you look,” you said, fingers flying across the datapad as you recalibrated the long-range scanner’s neural relays.
Tech didn’t even glance up. “Is that a compliment for my intelligence or an insult for my appearance?”
You smirked, biting the inside of your cheek. “Maybe both. You’ll never know.”
That got him. He looked at you over the rim of his goggles, blinking once. “You are remarkably cryptic for someone so precise in data analysis.”
“And you’re remarkably dense for someone with a photographic memory.”
He opened his mouth—no doubt to deliver a factually loaded rebuttal—but Omega’s groan from the doorway cut him off.
“Ugh, will you two just kiss already?”
Wrecker let out a bark of laughter from the other side of the room. “They’re both so smart and yet so stupid. It’s kinda impressive, honestly.”
Hunter passed by without even looking up from his weapon check. “I give it three more arguments before one of them short-circuits.”
Echo, lounging at the gunner’s console, rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen better communication from malfunctioning droids.”
You turned bright red. “We’re not—! I mean, it’s not like that.”
Tech, completely deadpan: “I fail to see the logic in a kiss solving anything.”
“Oh my stars,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’d think two geniuses wouldn’t be so emotionally… constipated.”
Omega laughed as she flopped into a chair. “Is that what it’s called?”
“Yes,” you said, shooting Tech a sidelong glance. “He’s got a whole datacard full of tactical strategy, but apparently no folder for feelings.”
“I have folders,” Tech protested, indignant. “I just haven’t… opened them.”
You crossed your arms and leaned back in your seat. “Well, maybe you should. Before I go flirt with Echo just to see if he can keep up.”
Tech’s goggles glinted as he straightened, spine stiff. “That would be inefficient. Echo’s humor is marginally less compatible with yours. Statistically, I am the superior match.”
The room went dead silent.
Even Hunter looked up.
“…What?” Tech asked, genuinely confused. “Was that not the correct response?”
You blinked, lips parting, but nothing came out at first. Finally, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table.
“Tech,” you said slowly. “Are you… trying to court me via statistics?”
“Well, that is the language I am most fluent in,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I have also calculated the probability of your reciprocal affection to be relatively high, based on prolonged eye contact, increased heart rate during proximity, and your tendency to brush your hair back when speaking to me.”
Your face went completely warm. “You noticed that?”
“I notice everything about you,” he said plainly. “I simply haven’t known what to do with the information.”
Your heart stuttered—because for all his clinical language, there was vulnerability behind it. Soft. Honest. Tech didn’t lie. He just struggled to feel out loud.
You offered a small smile. “You don’t have to do anything… except meet me halfway.”
He tilted his head. “Can you define halfway in this context?”
You stood up, stepped in front of him, and placed your hand gently on the side of his face—just enough pressure for his breath to catch. He froze like a statue.
“This,” you whispered, “is halfway.”
“Oh,” Tech said softly, eyes wide behind his goggles. “I see.”
And then—slowly, cautiously, with all the finesse of a man defusing a bomb—he leaned forward and kissed you.
Echo let out a low whistle. Wrecker whooped. Omega cheered.
Hunter smirked to himself. “About time.”
When you pulled back, Tech looked dazed. Awestruck.
You grinned and nudged his shoulder. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Tech adjusted his goggles. “I must say… I found it remarkably agreeable.”
“You’re so weird,” you whispered, grinning.
He smiled back. “Yes. But apparently, I am your kind of weird.”
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fandombead · 2 months ago
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An Analysis in Value
This is a fic for @i-will-physically-fight-you ! ^^ Prompt: Humans as Space Orcs, gimme all that delicious hurt/comfort or angst with a pair of your choice!
Summary: Logan struggles to affirm his value as an individual and only wants to prove himself to the person who matters most to him. He inadvertently gets that chance, but it was something Virgil already knew all along. Logan just needed a way to see it.
WC: ~4.7k words || It's on AO3
@tss-camp-and-coffee
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Earthers, it turns out, will attempt to befriend and pack-bond with literally anything…”attempt” being the key word. But space, in all its vast diversity of life, houses dangers the likes neither Logan nor his Deathworlder Virgil have ever seen. Logan’s homeworld was no Deathworld by any stretch, but even he was wary of new creatures because he had to be for survival. Every new encounter was one of great reluctance.
Virgil, though cautiously wary of other advanced species in the markets and suspicious of strangers, occasionally let his guard down around wild creatures that were familiar to those of his home. He gained their trust, and knew the difference between one that was more likely to be a friend than dangerous…though Virgil had miraculously made friends with one beast twice Logan's size with bone-crushing tusks out of necessity, too, so it was hardly consistent. Logan was perplexed by how Virgil’s kind ever evolved such behavior, especially befriending what any sane surviving species would consider a threat. Despite this, he thought it was admirable how Virgil was brave despite his apprehensions about new situations and settings. It had saved them both twice now in tough situations…but only twice. 
A lucky coincidence was not something to base your view of the entire universe, or even a solar system, on.
Not everything fluffy with a cute face is safe, but it's easy to be disarmed by that. Many planets have evolved or been invaded by offworld predators that are unassuming and mimic the docile forms of prey species; they don't trigger the danger instincts in their prey until it is too late. It's a lesson learned the hard way.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Logan had only looked away for one turn. Just a moment. He and Virgil had docked their Star Sailer in a narrow plain at the edge of a field, sheltered from the planet's harsh, turbulent climate in the shadow of a mountain. Virgil said he'd gather something to start a fire with and perhaps anything they could check was edible for food along the side of this mountain cluster. Now Logan didn't see him anywhere.
They'd barely managed to steer the sailer through the narrow, maze-like valleys without crashing, even with Logan's 4 arms and Virgil's surprising amount of strength that had held down the mainsail's rigging when it had snapped clean off the stern of their ship.
While they'd survived that harrowing stretch of their journey, they'd never make it off planet to the second moon in this thing. Its old artificial atmosphere wouldn't survive the gravity of the planet, and just be sucked away until they were well-into space. Their entire ship wasn't designed to survive this planet, but they'd had no choice but to make the emergency landing here.
Logan knew nothing substantial about this planet's weather. He had memorized the datacard for this sector of the Sandari Solar System, but he was learning just how much encyclopedias often left out about each subject.
Ventuit; a temperate planet in sector Y, referred to as O-TS-19 in common nomenclature. A rocky planet with low vegetation, damp clay-rich soil. 30% surface water in scattered deep lakes. Tight mountainous regions with most land fauna living in caverns and burrows due to the wind.
It had never mentioned how much wind, nor how strong. That seemed like important information to disclose.
He and Virgil had thankfully landed near some mountains, although on the wind-facing side, hence the treacherous unplanned trip as they were pushed right through. Logan hoped those winds didn't change often. The last thing they needed was a headwind pushing them back again. Their campsite was at least partially sheltered by a hill, but he knew that wouldn't stop wind from bearing down on them or blowing them out of the cover in the night should the worst happen.
…The point being, they really could not stay here long.
Vast plains and dense, isolated forests of low grass-like structures that left zero cover surrounded them in all other directions. They were barely taller than Logan, who himself could see over them to the horizon if he extended his femurs.
But now his Deathworlder, the only companion he'd had for nearly a hundred rises, had vanished. In an unknown area with unknown dangers, and he was far shorter than Logan was.
Logan stared at the grass shifting in the wind. Or maybe it was from the movement of something inside it. He turned in a circle, antenna raised. No good being downwind now; even in the mountain's wind shadow, he couldn't sense Virgil nearby.
Surely when he'd said he was going to look for food and some (primitive carbon) fuel, he hadn't gone in there…? Logan might never find him again in that.
He had to find him. Virgil was too smart to risk getting lost in a place with low visibility. So Logan began walking quickly away from the valley's windy opening. The only direction Virgil could have initially gone.
They didn't know how far along the day cycle was, and so it was pertinent that Logan found Virgil before dark. Predators came out in the dark. Virgil was a capable, but squishy Deathworlder. He'd survived more than his fair share of deadly encounters, but Logan would take no chances.
The Ootago skirted the mountain in the direction he hoped Virgil had gone and just accidentally gotten out of view. He was on the right track: he could see where his Earther had cleanly cut stray stems of the plants away from the denser foliage. He soon spotted a pile of the ones V had already gathered up ahead, where it was surely Virgil who had left them…confirmed when he saw the familiar pleated tracks of Virgil's footwear. But then, where was Virgil?
Logan passed by some boulders that had likely rolled down from the mountain— another thing to be careful of tonight— and came across something odd. It was a large pile of bones. He wouldn't have seen it had he not been carefully scanning the mountain for where Virgil could have gone in search of their necessities…almost like it was deliberately hidden back behind them.
He stared at the ravaged carcass of some large grazing mammal, if he was just going off the teeth and build. It was entirely picked clean with hundreds of shallow, tiny holes in the bones. There was also greyish-white fur everywhere…perhaps all that was left of the creature. It didn't look like it had been there long, as the bones were not yet dry or bleached by the light of its main star. Maybe only a rise or two…
Logan was unnerved. He began to call out for Virgil, desperate to get his eyes on him again, just to ensure he was not in danger. The lower light level was more noticeable now…night was approaching within the next few turns. The star was slowly setting behind Logan. Logan did not know enough about the planet to know how long the days and nights were. He could at least estimate, if he knew the tilt of the planet, the size, or where on its latitudes they had landed…
Logan was physically unable to repeat a lot of sounds in Virgil’s limited Earth language and broken common, but he was able to make an elongated “V” sound. That was his way of calling him. When that didn't seem to be loud enough, he risked whistling, as that was a loud and clear sound both he and Virgil could make for signaling.
Logan continued around another outcropping of the mountainside and whistled again. He finally— thankfully— heard Virgil whistle back before he saw him, but Logan zeroed in on where the sound had originated from, his antenna guiding him directly to the source. He quickly found Virgil in a relatively small bowl-shaped cutout set into the mountain. But his shipmate wasn't alone.
Logan froze, horrified as his one true friend in this universe was crouching in the middle of a horde of furry, ravenous creatures. Logan had no idea what they were.
They were small, not even coming up to Virgil's knees as they sat up on their hind legs watching him with strikingly orange eyes…and grey-white fur.
Logan had to resist the urge to flee. He wasn't going to leave Virgil. Virgil had been the only friend he ever had, they were bonded in a way only those who had been through peril together could. Virgil understood him like no one else in the universe did. The kind, fierce little Earther meant more to him than he had the words or experience in life to put a name to. And he was utterly surrounded by 20, possibly 30 of the tripedal, lethal hunters. Virgil was being corralled for the kill, waving at Logan. He wasn't aware he was in danger. He didn't know.
Virgil’s easygoing smile was wiped away when he saw Logan’s frantic threatening gesture, trying to get them to leave or part, but none moved from their circle. One started to clack its teeth at Logan…it had dozens of razor-sharp little needles. That explained the dents in the bones.
Logan had no idea why they hadn't attacked yet, and thus didn't know what would provoke them. He and Virgil could not defend themselves with their dull knives. Deathworlder or not, V wasn't naturally endowed with armor plates and thick skin; Earthers were optimized in other ways, not many of which would help now.
Logan tried to step closer, but the nearest creatures began hissing, their short tails thumping the ground in sync. Startled, Logan took some steps back. He made a whirring noise of distress.
Virgil trusted him, though, and often Logan knew more about the worlds they ended up on, so he didn't try to ask or reassure him when Logan was giving him notable signals. They had proven to be correct just as often as Virgil saved them through befriending. Virgil just looked nervous as he slowly stood up and tried to inch his way towards Logan.
"Lo…?" Logan just looked from Virgil to the creatures, insisting that he not stop. More started the tail thumping, irritated by Virgil trying to get out. One leapt suddenly, snapping at his arm. It missed, but Virgil cried out in alarm, apparently seeing their teeth for the first time. Logan was alarmed too as they tried to cut Virgil off as a group.
He was still too far for Logan to get past the barrier they created. Virgil broke out into a run, trying to close the distance.
Another jumped directly at him and Virgil smacked it away on instinct; he kicked at a different one that tried to latch onto his foot. The ones that were behind him began to hop after him, their 3-legged forms creating an odd gait…but they were fast. Logan saw one lunge while Virgil's back was to it.
It bit down on Virgil’s paw and Virgil lurched, his scream cut off. He collapsed before his next step, crashing to the dirt as he lost control of his muscles. It wasn't just pain. No, when Virgil hit the ground, he didn't move like one would to protect themself from the fall or to fling the creature away from him. He didn't even curl up to try and protect himself…he was just still, unnaturally still, and all Logan knew was he had to get to him now.
Logan bulldozed several of the beasts between him and Virgil. Some tried to grab him too, but his legs were narrow targets and he was faster, taller than them.
Logan’s vision narrowed from his elevated stress. He tried to find any sign that Virgil was still alright. He hadn’t gotten up yet, he had to be alright.
They nipped at Virgil’s feet, trying to drag him into the shadows of a nearby burrow. 
Logan was quick to grab Virgil, though fearing the worst. Virgil shuddered as Logan scooped him up, though he hung awkwardly in Logan’s arms. Thankfully, Earthers weren’t very big (though they were certainly denser than they looked). Logan managed to tuck him in a way that was hopefully comfortable against his plated chest. The first thing he checked for was if Virgil’s breathing was okay as he scrambled for a way over the pack of furious beasts. Virgil’s breathing was fast, his pulse elevated, which would not help him slow the spread of any possible venom these creatures had. Virgil’s eyes were wide and shaking, staring up at Logan in his distress. He tensed and untensed, clearly trying to move, but even that soon stilled as whatever paralyzing toxin was now in his bloodstream took over completely. Logan kept a mandible pressed to Virgil’s chest gently, both to monitor and reassure himself that he was still alive and breathing so he could focus on fleeing.
The little mammals continued jumping at Logan as well as Virgil, who was dangling helplessly in his arms, and Logan held Virgil protectively over their heads, dodging the attacks. 
What was confusing was that they seemed reluctant to actually bite them; Virgil’s bitten paw had several shallow punctures and was bleeding, but not the mutilation that Logan expected from the teeth of creatures who had absolutely shredded through that larger alien. What was it about this area? Were they hiding their prey? Was that why that creature was behind the boulders? What did those places have in common? The burrow…was it the darkness? Getting out of the light? All their efforts just seemed to be trying to keep Logan and Virgil corralled in this isolating area, which meant Logan needed to get out before they decided to change tactics or got lucky in one of their lunges. Logan’s exoskeleton was mostly hard, but he was not willing to test that against jagged teeth that dented bone.
Then one of them got lucky, desperate to keep their prey contained. Logan let out a high whistling sound as it grabbed onto one of his lower arms and twisted with its teeth locked on. The lower part of the limb, in Logan’s distress and flight response, came off from the force of it. Logan flinched at the feeling of it disconnecting, but it was a much kinder fate than what awaited them if they did not get away. It was the second time Logan had lost a limb, so he knew he would recover it just the same. It would still be uncomfortable to function without it for a few rises. At least it was only part of the arm this time. 
Logan tucked Virgil’s arms gently over his stomach and tried to reassure him as he raced back into the light, squinting as it was now in his face. His theory was correct: those creatures didn’t follow, but the growing shadow behind them allowed them to start after the duo. Logan stayed as far from the shadows as he could. He snagged the stems and leaves Virgil had been working on as he passed by; they might be all they had for the night. Logan didn’t know how long he had to get more. He didn’t even know for sure if light was all they needed, or if the torch on their ship would be enough. But it was all that he could think to do to save them short of driving the ship solo into the tall grass and its unknown perils. He didn’t know what other creatures– or large rocks– lurked just under the blanket of green. They didn’t have the fuel to hover high for very long, and the wind was unpredictable. Logan might only be sending them to crash or into the jaws of something far worse. 
…If Virgil died, it would be because Logan failed to protect him. After everything they’d both escaped, would this really be where it ended?
Logan saw their sailer ahead and covered the distance. He was back in a quarter of the time it had taken to get to V. He rushed to get Virgil on board, abandoning the plans of camping on the ground or starting a campfire. He needed to fire up their torch before their natural daylight was gone. He laid Virgil down gently on the cabin floor near him, patting his arm gently and making sure he was okay there before focusing. If he thought the torium-alloy frame of the ship was enough to protect them, he might have just tried fortifying the boat, but he wasn’t going to make that their only defense. He fumbled with his nondominant claw and the latch and tiny button mechanisms more suited to dexterous tendrils, paws, and feelers. He wasn’t adequate for this job, he was going too slowly. He could hear them, with their terrifying clatter. They were hungry and zeroing in on this boat. What if he was wrong? They’d be caught in the dark–
No. Virgil was counting on him. Logan couldn’t get in his own head right now. Inadequacies or not, he had to get this done. Virgil would do the same for him. Virgil wouldn’t give in to his panic, he’d push through and do everything he could to save them because it was the only viable option. Logan had to give them that chance. They’d been running for too long and had survived far more danger together. That wouldn’t all be for nothing. Logan could prove he was just as worthy a crewmate. He could do this on his own, his ideas…they could work.
He glanced at Virgil, who was looking between Logan and what he was doing. Virgil trusted him, he knew that. They’d long ago placed their lives in each other's arms, given how easy it was to betray and reap the rewards. Most selfish aliens, or even those who deemed them guilty, would have jumped at the opportunity. But Virgil never had and no riches could replace someone so dear to Logan. Logan wouldn’t choke now, when that trust was tested. At least V would never regret giving it to him then.
Logan ignored the sounds of thumps and dings off the bottom of the boat and didn’t stop even as twilight crept into the cabin. The gangplank had been drawn up, but it was only a matter of time before those things managed the height and precision to land on the deck…Logan swore he heard scratching at the door.
The fuel converter finally fired up after two false starts and Logan started shoving leaves in, enough to keep it burning. It was like the boat itself lit up like a beacon in the dim night. The screeches and scattering of claws were genuinely unnerving, and Logan just sat still for a moment, listening tensely. Aside from the nearby drone of the wind, nothing else could be heard. He chanced looking out the port window.
Little streaks of white fled the immediate clearing, diving into the grass. Orange eyes reflected the light back…so not gone. But he’d been right. He just had to keep this light burning, now, Logan slumped, unwilling to go out. If he had been any slower finding Virgil, the shadows appearing in the dip they'd likely lured Virgil into would have gotten him killed…but they’d survived. They were not actively under attack anymore.
Logan waited until he’d calmed down to scoot over to Virgil. He couldn’t relax or celebrate yet. He had to check in. Virgil hadn’t moved from where Logan set him down. “Ooo-ck…Vv.”
Logan intended to wrap Virgil’s paw and made another distressed noise at how it looked swollen and red. He begged for it not to be an infection as he did the best with their improvised medicine and wrapped it in a clean, torn piece of cloth. V’s face twitched each time Logan touched it and he worried he was hurting him. He would watch it to make sure it didn’t get worse, but there was very little aid Logan could give. He’d risk going to a port city if it meant Virgil would be saved, but they were grounded on this planet for at least half a rise. Virgil was also the one with engineering expertise that could potentially fix their boat. Logan had little hope of figuring that out with no reference, no matter how much he had carefully watched Virgil tend to other things. Logan had only learned to pilot it out of necessity with no formal training. If Virgil didn’t get better, then…this was probably it for them.
Logan pulled Virgil into a supported sitting position and really tried to coax Virgil into drinking from the bubble of water. While amphibious, Logan’s kind could get enough moisture from the air to survive anywhere that wasn’t dry. Virgil’s brand of Deathworlder apparently was far less efficient at it, and so he got most of their liquid water supply. Terra Deathworlders needed a lot of water daily, and Logan feared constantly that V was lacking, though he rarely complained. Logan tried to get him to drink, as it could only help his body fight off the poison.
Virgil grimaced as the cool pod touched his lips and he refused to open them. Logan set it down. He'd try again later.
Logan again peeked out over the side of their boat haven and still saw the dozen pairs of unblinking orange eyes peering back in the foliage. Logan’s carapace shuddered and his gills flexed in unease. He knew they probably wouldn’t approach the boat, but it was still extremely unsettling to depend on it all night. Those creatures were strict darkness hunters from Logan’s observations (he begged the universe that he was right), so as long as their artificial light didn’t go out…
Yeaaaah, Logan knew he wasn’t sleeping tonight either way. He hoped the night passed quickly, before their meager pile of plant fiber fuel dwindled. They would burn quickly, but he had to make it last. His hearts couldn’t take this.
Virgil curled into his side, head resting on Logan’s thorax. Logan stroked Virgil’s back, which normally seemed to calm him. They would be okay, and he tried to reassure the Deathworlder. Logan had gotten them back in time, and they were tentatively safe from imminent danger, but he really hoped it wasn’t the neuropoison hurting V further. How lucky would they have to be for Earthers to actually be immune...? Virgil finally decided to reach out and cling to Logan’s closest forearm, and Logan stilled.
He eyed the paw Virgil was nursing. Logan did not like the vibrating his Deathworlder was doing. Virgil only did that when he was uncomfortable.
Logan started to prod Virgil, trying to see what was wrong. Virgil tucked his face more into Logan, pushing back at the foreleg, and Logan stopped.
Virgil reached out very slowly, as if it was a struggle, to the nub that had been one of Logan’s lower arms and brushed it gently.
Oh. Virgil must be unhappy. Unhappy that Logan got hurt saving him. Virgil hadn't seen him lose a limb before, he didn't know it would come back given some time.
A touching sentiment that Logan still wasn’t used to from the pack bonding types. He didn’t know being cared for felt so nice after the life he’d been thrust into before. Logan chittered softly, mandibles clacking. He’d try. “…grrrr-oh. Ooo-ck. Ooo-ck, Vvvv.”
Virgil glanced up at him silently, and Logan’s gills fluttered more erratically at seeing the wet on Virgil’s face. Logan immediately tapped at it, wishing his tibia were better suited: softer.
He switched to stroking Virgil’s outer coat awkwardly, pulling the loose purple-spotted fur over his head. That normally comforted him; he usually did it to sleep. But after several turns, Virgil was still very much awake and unsettled. 
Logan tried something else. He held up the nub that had been his lower right femur before, getting Virgil's attention. Virgil winced upon seeing it and the pale dried hemolymph around the wound, but Logan shook his head as Virgil often did. Virgil looked at him in confusion but focused on the nub again with some hesitance.
Logan put his upper right arm below the nub, then slowly raised it, trying to show Virgil the process of the regeneration that would happen over the coming rises. "…g-grrr-oh. Gan?"
He waited for the clarity on Virgil's face as it clicked, and Virgil slumped with relief. "G-Good…worried. Lo okay," he replied. "Saved. Amazing."
Logan made a pleased clacking noise, relieved too. They would be okay. Virgil at least appeared to be fighting off the venom well enough, and that was more than worth still having him, close call or not.
He settled down over Virgil, brushing his head with his mandibles. Logan’s exoskeleton wasn’t useful for warmth, but he knew the gesture often settled the Deathworlder and helped him rest. He pulled the weather tarp over Virgil, though, in the hopes that it would diminish the shaking. It had worked before, but not all creatures shook for the same reason each time.
Virgil slowly reached up and settled a paw on the side of Logan's face, and the look was one Logan wanted to think of as fondness. Logan pressed his head against it, a reassuring weight. He wasn't going anywhere. They would be okay.
Logan watched the light and gradually fed it strips of the plants so it would stay on, diligently keeping an eye on the glowing predators’ all night. Virgil fell asleep, fully trusting Logan would protect him and wake him if necessary. Logan was just glad Virgil was resting, though he made sure the poison wasn't affecting his sleep. Virgil hadn't been concerned about lasting effects, or at least hadn't seemed that way…was this also something familiar to him from Earth?
The thought made Logan's gills twitch. Aside from the temporary paralysis, Virgil just seemed…fine. He was sleeping like normal, still and quiet, but his breathing wasn't any shallower than usual. It was yet another concerning hint at just what Deathworlders could withstand— what they were designed and evolved to be up against in their own world. Especially as a pack.
Logan was certainly glad Virgil had chosen him for a companion. It was an honor to be so accepted and cared for as an individual with value…to be needed. It was more than Logan’s own people would ever give him. To them, he was nothing but a tool to be discarded. To Virgil, Logan was someone living for more. He wasn’t just an inferior copy of a person, but a crewmate…an ally. Logan considered himself an adequate asset to their team, and yet Virgil insisted he was intrinsically valued even without his knowledge and abilities. It was hard to wrap his mind around just being outright wanted. Logan did not want to go on without Virgil. He cared for him too much.
Virigl had given him a scare today, but they were still alive and together. It was one of the better ways to learn a harsh lesson and they'd be far more careful to avoid worse in the future. This planet's closest star began to show on the horizon as they lay there quietly, and Logan, exhausted, could finally just shut his eyes for a turn and appreciate that he hadn’t lost his world and one true home here today. He’d never known a home could be a person until now.
They would find a way off this planet. They would find the way to their haven no matter the setback. A ship and supplies could be replaced, they could survive without. He couldn’t live on without Virgil in his life. And the way Virgil held on in his sleep, unconsciously, Logan figured he truly was just as important to Virgil too. 
-------------------------------------------------------------
Fun Facts & Lore:
Logan is an Ootago ("Oo-tey-go"), which is an alien species that is like a praying mantis crossed 30% with an axolotl. Their "wings" are optimized for moving in the water, not flight. He can change color for camouflage, but is usually dark blue (what he was used to back home in a mostly Ocean world). Ootagi can regrow lost limbs and some organs (including their elongated hearts ONLY if at least 1 is still working), but not their heads. He has a photographic memory as a member of this pescatarian species.
The species is amphibious, not known for spacefaring, and can naturally clone themselves (via budding or treated fragmentation), usually for dangerous tasks the "original" does not want to do. Logan is a clone who had an existential crisis about it and mutated a little from that sudden clarity and awareness. Sometimes he gets flashes of memories in his dreams that he doesn’t think are his own. He gained a sense of selfhood, fleeing off-planet to save himself, which is a no-no and made him a fugitive as "property of the original". He essentially stole himself by their laws.
He met Virgil, a human asteroid miner who lost most of his crew during an iron mine heist. Virgil says he's given up hope that anyone else escaped the bloodbath, but Logan thinks he's still looking for signs of them and notices that Virgil often leaves innocuous things in strange places on the planets they have visited, perhaps to alert his team someday. Virgil has something those thieves want (a key or map to a greater collection of riches) however, so they are both on the run to find a way to a colony Logan believes can help protect them both. Virgil helped him pick his Deathworld name.
Drip = about 2 seconds. Timed by a steady drip of water from a mechanism the Ootago use for telling time.
Turn = 3 minutes. On Logan's homeworld, a turn is how long it takes their main moon to do a full spin.
Rise = a day in Logan's homeworld time, which is 48 Earth Hours long for simplicity. (He's known Virgil for going on 100 rises, so approaching 200 Earth Days, or a little over half an Earth Year.)
Ootago: singular. The type of alien Logan is, originating from NaDessr in Lophyros-6 Galaxy. Otagi ("Oo-tah-gee") is the plural form. They have 6 limbs usually like insects; they alternate the middle set for running/more stability on land and use for an extra set of arms. Their top arms are more optimized for manipulating things.
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supersaiyanjedi14 · 6 months ago
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Sabezra Day 2025
Prompt: Sabine and Ezra discover ship works of a Jedi and a Mandalorian.
@sabezraweek
*Ezra and Sabine find something interesting when digging through old archives*
“Of all the jobs they could have stuck us on, why did it have to be this one?”
“Correction; it’s the job they stuck you on.  I’m the one nice enough to give you a hand.”
Ezra rolled his eyes at the remark.  He supposed that Sabine was right.  He was on suspended command following the incident with the Y-Wings, meaning the only help he could really do around the base was menial grunt work.  In this case, he was sifting through a collection of old archive material that the Rebels wanted curated for a potential intelligence database.  Important work in the long term, sure, but also relentlessly boring.  Pile after pile of datacards and holorecordings that all needed their contents organized and numbered.  And the majority of it wasn’t even useful.  A minor cargo manifest here, an advertisement there.  There seemed to be no end to it.  He never thought there would be a moment he’d prefer scrapping the carbon scoring off the Ghost, and yet the day had come.
True to her word, Sabine had taken pity on the would-be Jedi and offered to help him with his chore.  As monotonous as the work was, having an extra pair of hands on the job and someone to talk to did lessen the burden by a good deal.  That didn’t mean, however, that he forsook the right to complain.
“Alright, fine,” he conceded, “Of all the jobs they could have stuck me on.”
“You do kind of deserve it,” quipped Sabine as she removed a datacard from her pad, the content already typed into the finding aid they were building.
Ezra sighed.  “Don’t remind me.”
“Look on the bright side,” she said, “we only have about eight more boxes left.”
“How many cards?”
“150.”
“Let me guess, each?”
“Bingo.”  Now it was Sabine’s turn to groan, selecting a new datacard.  “At this rate, we’ll probably be done by next Life Day.” She looked up as she absentmindedly plugged in the card.  “What have you had so far?”
Ezra looked over to the list he had been recording on the side, a small tally sheet of flimsi for him to keep a general track of what they had so far.  Over the past few hours, he and Sabine had made a bit of a game out of it.
“So far,” he read, “153 holonet articles, 97 image records, 88 community bulletins, 80 cargo manifests, 52 recordings of people’s pet tookas, and- get this- 29 different ads for a bake sale on Telerath!”  He said the last one with an air of bewilderment.
Sabine merely whistled.  “Remind me to check out Telerath pies in the future.”
“And that’s not even scratching the surface of the useless stuff I’ve found here.” Ezra groaned, tossing his datapad to the table.  “Anyway, what do you have?”
Sabine looked back at her own pad.  “Let’s see- 132 articles, 115 cargo manifests, 96 differe-“  She stopped talking as he eyes became glued on the datapad.
Ezra perked up.  “What?” he asked.  “Find something?”
“It’s…” Sabine trailed off a moment, blinked, then pushed the datapad away.  “Nothing?”
“What?” “Noth-“
“C’mon, tell me.  Can’t be any worse than bake sale ads.”
Sabine sighed and recovered her datapad.  “Well, looks like someone had a holonovel stored among this stuff.”
Ezra shook his head.  “Huh?”
“See for yourself.”  Sabine handed the datapad to Ezra for him to see.  What he saw was certainly surprising.
A Heart of Iron Crystal: A Star-crossed Tale of the Old Republic.
The cover page seemed to depict a golden sunset overlooking a cliff.  Below the title were two human figures looking to the sky with clasped hands.  One was clearly a Jedi, garbed in brown and tan robes with a lightsaber held in his opposite hand.  The other, a woman, seemed to be wearing a set of bright purple armor, a long helmet held under her free arm.
Ezra looked away from the page to stare at Sabine.  “Great, so now we have to sift through trashy romance novels along with the other junk.”
“Yep,” Sabine said with a slight groan.  “Looks like someone just had to get their Jedi-Mando ship works in between actual important stuff.”
Ezra looked at Sabine, puzzled.  “Mando?”
“Yeah, the woman on the cover.  She’s a Mandalorian.”
He checked the cover page again.  The helmet under the woman’s arm seemed to have the iconic t-shaped visor of the Mandalorian people, but the rest of the armor screamed foreign to him.  “Doesn’t look like any Mandalorian I’ve ever seen.”
Sabine scooted over closer to Ezra and pulled the datapad back to herself.  “Well, unless you were in a museum, I doubt you ever would have seen it.”  She pointed to the woman on the cover.  “That’s Neo-Crusader armor.  It was worn during the Mandalorian Wars thousands of years ago.”
The name finally scratched Ezra’s memory.  “I remember Kanan talking about that.  Didn’t the Mandalorians invade the Republic and were only stopped by some Jedi who later fell to the Dark Side?  What was his name, Ryan, Roonan…
“Revan,” Sabine corrected, “And yep, that was him.  This armor was worn by most of the warriors who fought on the front lines.”  She scoffed a bit, “I can see where the star-crossed bit comes in.  Half the reason the Jedi and Mandalorians hate each other these days comes from what went down then.”
Despite considering it lame a bit ago, Ezra found himself laughing.  “Romance across opposite sides of a war.  That’s rich.”
“I don’t know, it has a bit of a fun edge to it.”
“Yeah, the edge of a vibroblade you mean.”  Ezra ignored Sabine’s eyeroll at his joke and looked back at the female Neo-Crusader.  “Kinda looks like you, come to think of it.”
Now Sabine laughed.  “Oh yeah, because I’m the only Mando with purple armor.”
“No, I’m serious, look.”  Ezra pointed down at the image.  “She’s wearing her hair the way you usually do, short bang off to the side.”
“Most Mandalorian girls have short hair.  It’s practical.”
“I swear, her style makes me think of you.”
“Oh, you want to play that game, huh?” Sabine asked with a wry smile.  “Well, what if I said that Jedi on the other side looks like you?”
Ezra chuckled.  “Well, for starters, I don’t have a beard.”
“You could,” Sabien retorted, plus he has that mischievous little Loth-rat look that you do so well.”
“Mischievous?”
“And if I look carefully,” Sabine continued unabated, “I might be able to see a couple of scratch marks on his cheek.”
“Oh ha-ha,” Ezra replied sarcastically.  “And I bet they met while he was stealing crates from her, too.”
“Could be,” said Sabine.  She chuckled a bit.  “He probably tried cheesy pickup lines on her when she first took off her helmet.”
“And she got back at him by painting an embarrassing picture over his bunk.”
“Maybe decorated a stolen fighter together?” “I’ve heard of worse first dates.”
“Maybe saved each other’s lives a lot, too.”
“Looked past the initial differences and- “
“Came to know the person underneath- “
“Kinda like- “
“Us?”
Ezra hadn’t even realized he had been moving closer to Sabine as they talked.  Or how their voices had become less amused and softer.  Or how their faces were mere centimeters away from each other.
Several seconds passed before Ezra’s face started to heat up.  He scooted backwards and cleared his throat.  “We, uh, we…we should get back to work.” “Right!”  Sabine’s voice came out in a higher pitch than he was used to, her hands fumbling a bit as she pulled the datacard out and hurriedly returned to the finding aid.
Ezra turned back to his own datapad.  Although, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, he could have sworn that he saw Sabine slip the datacard into her own pocket.
Looks like she had some reading for tonight.
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freesia-writes · 1 year ago
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Ch 30: Wedding, Part 1
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Master List ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ WC: 2.8k
Song: That Funny Feeling -- Bo Burnham (from "Inside")
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The bell on the door of the butcher shop chimed, and Hunter was surprised to see Omega coming in. Wiping off his blade and hands, he ventured into the front to greet her. 
“What’s up, kid?” 
“Sorry for embarrassing you at dinner the other night,” she admitted, although the mirth on her face did not convincingly reflect a wealth of remorse. 
“Yeah, well… I probably deserve it,” he chuckled. The few days between had replaced the utter humiliation with more of a begrudging acceptance of the whole ordeal.
“You’re just going through your rebellious phase, since you didn’t get to as an adolescent.” Her diagnosis came with twinkling eyes that earned a groan and an eye roll from him. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. 
“And that’s alright,” she said sagely. “You’re doing the best you can with what you have. Besides… it’s kind of fun, eh?” She elbowed him in the side, and he squinted at her in suspicion.
“And what do you know about that?” 
“Nothing, of course,” she smiled innocently. “Anyway… I have a favor to ask.”
“You’re not off to a good start.”
“Neither are you,” she returned evenly, surprising him into a chuckle. “Some of my friends are going to a beach bonfire, and it starts… like… now. But I was supposed to drop off all this stuff from the last few internships.” She held up a bundle of datacards. “For some reason, my transmitter isn’t working, so I’d have to go up to the school in person. But by the time I get there and back, I’ll have missed most of the bonfire. So…”
“You want me to close the shop and take them to the top of the island?” He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew he was going to do it, he just liked to point out what a huge imposition it was. 
“You’re closing in eight minutes anyway,” Omega pointed out with an equally knowing grin. 
“Fine.” 
“Thanks Hunter! You’re the best!” She gave him a hug, dropped her datacards on the counter, and bounced out of the shop with a spring in her step. 
It was only then that he was hit with a sudden suspicion of her true motives.
* * * 
The walk to the school ended up being just what he needed. It was a beautifully fresh afternoon on the island, with the perfect balance of sunshine and breeze. The sky was dotted with fluffy clouds that gave periodic respites of coolness when the sun would pass behind them, allowing Hunter to avoid getting overheated as he hiked up the winding path. The brick building came into view, bringing up a scourge of memories and emotions, but he attempted to fight them off with an insistent focus on his singular objective: drop the datacards off in the main office and be done. 
“Well hello, sir,” the main secretary greeted him as he slipped through the door, quickly donning some lipstick when he turned to secure the knob behind him. She shoved it into a desk drawer as he approached the desk, holding up the datacards. A few ladies were packing up for the day in their cubicles behind her, and he noticed a few others finishing a conversation in the back of the room around a small water dispenser. 
“Afternoon,” he said. “I know you’re about to head out. I just wanted to drop these off for Omega. They go to… the internship office.” A quick frown came and went.. 
“Vetana?” came an abrasive voice from a side office, and a greasy figure swaggered out. “I’ll run em back to her.” None other than Mullet Hanker was the one approaching the counter, a smug expression on his handsome face. The front desk lady’s heart rate increased as he approached, and a light flush painted her cheeks as she fawned at him. He gave her a wink as he reached for the cards, and Hunter felt a tightness in his core. 
“Actually,” he said, pulling them back into his hands. “I forgot. Omega needed me to deliver a message too… I’ll just take them around.”
“Oh yeah?” Mullet seemed to recognize Hunter then, and a myriad of emotions danced across his face. “Well I’d be happy to deliver a message as well.”
Hunter stared back at him, keeping his face carefully neutral, but the intensity in his hawkish eyes spoke otherwise. “I appreciate it. But not necessary. Thank you all,” he said, addressing the secretary as well, whose eyes had widened somewhat as she felt the tension sparking between the men. It seemed as though Mullet were about to reply, but he closed his mouth, watching Hunter slip out the door with thinly pressed lips. 
Once outside, Hunter took a deep breath, simultaneously apprehensive and indignant at himself for feeling that way. He toyed with the thought of going back and just leaving them after all, and he wondered why he’d felt so immediately insistent that he take them himself. He didn’t want to, if he were honest, but he’d somewhat sealed his fate, so he headed for the main hallway and began a slow walk down the dark, quiet halls. When he arrived at Lyra’s door, halfway open as usual, he paused, trying to calm the tidal wave of frustration and resentment rising within. Finally, he knocked on the door frame and stepped into view.
Lyra looked up quickly, eyes rounding as she recognized him. Panic and hurt flashed across her face, and she remained in her chair, hands spread flat on the desk as though it were the safeguard between them. Hunter held up the datacards, searching for the right words to say and second-guessing every single one. 
“Omega asked me to bring these.” A sheepish admittance.
“Ah. Thank you.” She stood to take them from him. 
“Yup.” He passed them to her carefully, avoiding any accidental touch of the hands. 
Silence.
They looked everywhere but at each other.
“Well… thanks,” he said lamely, then moved back toward the door, slowly, as though held back by some unidentified force. 
Lyra watched him, mouth opening and closing a few times. He couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder to offer a polite nod, and he was struck by her body language. She was perched on the edge of her chair like a bird about to take flight, hands fidgeting on the desk before her for a second before she clasped them together to stop the movement. She was emanating a disquiet anticipation and he could feel himself being drawn into her tumult like a boat on stormy seas. 
He turned and left without another word. 
* * * 
“Babe!!” Luci exclaimed, beaming at him as he stood in her doorway. “You look a-maaaaazing!” He stepped in sheepishly, straightening the front of his tuxedo. It was an incredibly formal wedding, a stark contrast to the typically laid-back affairs of the island, and he’d been coerced into wearing a full suit, including a vest and white gloves. Again he had that sensation of being in someone else’s life, but the absolute adoration from Luci was distracting him from the spiky discomfort he was feeling. 
She had indeed given him space over the last week, insisting that she would truly be okay with whatever he decided about the wedding. While part of him wanted to refuse out of spite, he had a begrudging compulsion to keep his word. It was a pathetically trivial topic, but the principle of the matter had nagged him into compliance, so here he was, trussed up like a Life Day dinner and being delightedly inspected by Luci.
“What’s this?” she asked, drawing her fingers over a small pin he had added on his left breast pocket. 
“Omega made it for me in a job shadow for a welder,” he answered, glancing down at the small skull with two Aurebesh 9s beneath it. 
“A bit morbid, don’t you think?” she observed, furrowing her perfectly-shaped brows. 
“It’s… an old family crest,” he deflected, standing up a little straighter with an air of authority. Maker, how long had it been since he felt that? Luci read his vibe effortlessly, instead grasping his lapels and pulling him in for a quick kiss. 
“Well you look freaking delicious. Maybe too much, actually. Gonna have to beat the ladies away,” she said playfully. “But maybe I’ll give you a run for your money.” She held her arms out, offering a little spin to show off her own outfit, which Hunter had been trying to formulate words to address. She was wearing a bright red, lacy dress that hugged her curves all the way down her body until it flared out gracefully below her thighs. The scalloped neckline danced across her cleavage in a treacherously perfect cut as she adjusted herself one last time.
“The curse of perfect tits,” she giggled, wagging her eyebrows at him. Her lips had never looked so voluptuous, and she’d applied her makeup expertly to give herself a boldly glamorous look, framed by luscious curls that scattered across her shoulders and down to where her dress scooped across her lower back. 
“You look…” He was lost for words.
“I know. You’re speechless,” she laughed. She was a bombshell and she knew it, and yet it was somehow not a brag that hid a deeper insecurity but rather a seemingly effortless confidence that she carried into virtually every aspect of her life. Turning to look at her floor-length mirror, she tilted her head as she stood beside him. “We look damn good together.”
He nodded and waited by the door as she pulled on some black high heels followed by a dab of perfume from an ornate, gold-plated bottle. With one last scrutinizing glance, she joined him in the doorway, satisfied. Her sweet-yet-spicy scent filled his nostrils, and the heat radiating from her bare chest was palpable. She had skipped on jewelry, which surprised him as she was typically adorned with a luxurious array of gold necklaces and earrings, but her nails were long and bright red, a perfect match to the dress, and the hair and makeup was above and beyond. She’d turn heads, no doubt. 
Luci was in the wedding, which, as Hunter quickly discovered, meant that she was needed for a whole lot of things that didn’t involve him. There were two brides, each uniquely decorated with the customary attire of their home worlds, and a large bridal party made up of friends that all seemed to know each other well.
So he was left to fend for himself as the final ceremony preparations were made, opting to slink around the perimeter of the patio before finding a nice, quiet corner to tuck himself into. The outdoor area was made entirely of stone, with mature trees draping their leaves over the roofs and railing of a balcony that curved across the side to reveal a stunning vista below. As the sun lowered, it painted the horizon with a beautiful, creamy light that gave an ethereal feel to the evening. 
Hunter fidgeted with his gloves, noticing with a wry smile just how odd they now felt, despite the fact that he’d been wearing gloves almost his entire life. Different ones, granted, but it was further proof of the irrevocable shifts of the last few years. An elderly couple approached him, wandering away from the throngs of people that were quickly filling the seats and space, and he stood up straighter, offering a polite dip of the head as they neared. 
“Well aren’t you a dashing young man,” the lady spoke, her quavery voice sweet as honey as she looked him up and down. “Look at him, Arro.” She elbowed the feeble-looking man next to her, who was hunched so much that Hunter was looking more at the top of his head than his face. The labored straightening of a stiffened spine brought the man’s eyes to Hunter, and a mischievous smirk curved his wrinkled cheeks. 
“Quite a delightful specimen,” chuckled Arro, who slowly lowered his gaze back to his frail wife. “But he lacks a certain… jenessekwah…” He drifted off, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a burst of embarrassed laughter from the woman.
“Oh, pulling out the Twi’leki, I see!” she giggled, the wrinkles on her face settling into the smile lines that she had clearly spent years carving out. “What a night!”
Hunter could not have felt more distinctly “other”, and yet there was something about the deep love and familiarity between the two of them that created a dull ache in his chest. He forgot whatever Twi’leki phrase he’d conjured up to impress the two of them and instead excused himself with some genuine well-wishes and a bow. He found an empty seat in the back of the rows, with some space between it and the people further down, and he slipped into it, glancing at his chrono, then checking his comm. 
Minutes ticked by. The crowd grew louder. The seats filled. The host of the evening took his place at the front, giving a five-minute warning that the ceremony would soon begin. Hunter was doing everything he could to avoid the merciless waves of thoughts that seemed to be intent on afflicting him. It was frustrating that, after a lifetime of having clear missions laid out for him, a squad to tackle them with, and a litany of distinct, purposeful plans at his disposal, he was spending the “free” portion of his life in what felt like a complete freefall. Memories flickered at the edges of his consciousness – joy and loss, victory and defeat, contentment and confusion – moving his forehead in tiny flinches as each took its turn. 
“Well fancy seeing you here!” Two women appeared from behind, dressed to the nines and clearly delighted to be there. Hunter recognized one of them from the school office, though he’d never talked to her directly… Unless she was part of the herd that sometimes visited his shop. They stepped past his legs, one being far more careful than the other not to brush against him, and sat down neatly in the chairs right beside him. “Hunter, right?” the office lady said, offering a hand, which he gently shook. “I don’t think we’ve ever officially met. I’m Ketzya. This is my friend Araquella.” The friend leaned forward with a friendly wave and her textured dark hair fell over her shoulders, framing a brilliant smile. She was beautiful, and the mere noticing of such a thing somehow made Hunter feel angry.
“Nice to meet you both,” he replied automatically, forcing the hint of a smile onto his sharp features, but it was immediately frozen. Past the women, across the aisle, he saw a familiar form. Lyra was exchanging pleasantries with a few Xyloan elders, head tilted at their words as she listened intently. One of them clasped her hand, nodding vigorously, and she smiled demurely, lowering her head in humility before picking her way across a row to an empty seat. 
“And how do you know the brides?” Ketzya asked, as Araquella settled back into her seat.
“What?” Hunter said it far too loud, startling himself and both ladies, and he jerked his eyes back to them. “Oh. Uhh. I…Um…” He paused, entirely unsure of the social nuances of a situation like this. 
“Haha, oh I see!” Ketzya giggled, leaning in to gently elbow him in the side, which again irritated him more than it should have. “Wedding crasher, eh? Sweetheart, if you want a free dinner, you just have to say the word.” She batted her eyelashes at him, snickering at her own magnificent wit, while Hunter simply stared, dumbfounded. 
“Subtle,” her friend observed, tipping her head back to catch his eye behind Ketzya’s head. He watched her eyes roll before they crinkled into a smile. 
“What!” came the protest, and the school worker lifted both hands in surrender. “I’m just stating the obvious. You tellin me you wouldn’t do anything he told you?” Ketzya looked at Araquella now, and Hunter wondered if she’d been drinking or was simply always this unfiltered, but her friend huffed indignantly and stared right back. 
“What if all he wants is for you to shut up and leave him alone?” she retorted, but her face was relaxed and Ketzya burst into laughter. They clearly had some kind of understanding. “Besides,” Araquella continued, “No one is bossing me around.” She leaned back again to address Hunter, “No offense.”
“None taken,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced around the patio as surreptitiously as possible, wondering if he could slip out unnoticed and find Luci at the reception. Why did he need to be here anyway? He hadn’t thought to ask and was deeply regretting it now. But alas, the gentle background music gave way to a proclamation, and the ceremonial fanfare began.
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I had to write in Hunter's outfit after seeing this DELICIOUS fanart of tuxedo Hunter by @marymunchkiin!! Click the link and show it some love.
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marlinspirkhall · 7 months ago
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For Uhura Month @uhuramonth day 4, prompt: “Diplomacy”, here's chapter 1 of “The Fabric Of Her Life”
Summary: When a first contact mission goes wrong, Kirk is incapacitated, and Nyota must navigate an unfriendly planet without the aid of a universal translator.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Relationship: James T. Kirk & Nyota Uhura
Characters: Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk, Spock (Star Trek), Hikaru Sulu
Additional Tags: Universal Translator Malfunction, Captivity, Hostage Scenario, Endometriosis, Medical Negligence, (past) Medical Negligence, Trans James T. Kirk
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Note: This fic includes mentions of past medical negligence, themes of ableism, ableist character(s) & microaggressions.
Chapter 1: Silk
“Now, , you've read my report, but let's go over the salient points again.”
Ambassador Vodel wears an outfit made entirely from tie-dyed fabric. It's a style popular with most civilians they encounter in deep space, though, if it weren't for these pre-contact briefings, Jim would have no idea what passed for fashion on Earth right now.
“The Ignee have been warp-capable for twenty years, but their maximum warp speed is equivalent to our zero-point-five.” As Vodel struts, the silk swishes importantly. “Like humans, they were spacefarers long before they discovered warp tech- but, unlike us, they'd already colonized every M-Class planet in their solar system when they did so. We encountered one of their manned ships on the edge of Federation space, and it's still there, I very much suspect! The ship maintains constant communication with Igneous-Delta through radio contact alone, but don't ask me how. Naturally, they were a little surprised when we contacted them via subspace, but their instruments picked it up well enough. I imagine it was like receiving the Wow! signal, only a little less…” He waves a hand. “... You know.”
Jim doesn't. “I'll bet they were surprised when your ship turned up, too.” He says.
“Well, quite. Shooting across the galaxy in a fraction-of-a-fraction of the time it takes them to do it, I'm sure they were amazed.” He turns his head. “I think that's why they're so receptive to us.”
“Why wouldn't they be receptive?” Jim shields his eyes as they round the corner, and overhead lights begin their simulated sunrise. The corridor paints Vodel’s robes magenta.
“Well, I thought they were Luddites at first, you know. My crew disagreed, but they came around to my way of thinking: absolutely zero evolution of warp technology in twenty years, zero progress in communications, their planetary servers are still entirely dependent on Ethernet- they'd love this ship, all these datacards…!”
Kirk maintains a blank face. “Speaking of which, my head of communications mentioned-”
“- Ah yes, the lovely Ms Uhura. I do believe my Yeoman is busy replicating a new stack of cards as we speak. As for your chief science officer-”
“And first officer-”
“Two very demanding titles! How peculiar, to have them both filled by one person... But, I suppose he is Vulcan, isn't he?”
“Yes,” Jim says, forcibly. “But-”
“-Well, tell him we haven't got any botanical readings. We did the preliminary atmosphere checks- the safety checks, and all that. The air is fresh, the ground is walkable, and- although we don't have any Vulcans on our crew- if you're in the habit of sending two of your most senior roles on an away mission at the same time; I'm sure he'll be perfectly safe.” He chuckles at his own joke.
“We need that information to plan our away team.” Jim says, levelly.
“I'm afraid I don't follow.”
“Your Conditions Report was missing key allergen information.”
“Allergen information?” He clicks his tongue. “Ah, yes. On a starship this size, I suppose you can't afford to be as discerning with your personnel, even if you are the flagship.”
Jim stops moving. “What?”
Vodel is halfway down the corridor. “Stars below, have I hit a nerve?”
Jim blinks. “Perhaps you should continue briefing me.”
“Well-” he hesitates. “Yes.” He hums. “The Ignee are incredibly concerned with honesty, purity and truth.”
“Meaning?”
“They dislike deception. Their reaction to subspace was proof of that.”
“They thought you were deceiving them?”
“Orbits, no! It's stranger than that. They thought we were defying The Natural Order.”
Jim frowns at him.
“It's just like I told you!” Vodel flourishes. “Their social model revolves around complete transparency, and- apparently- talking through a microphone obscures that.” He scoffs. “With that attitude, it's a miracle that they developed narrowband radio at all. It's why I insisted on accelerating second contact; we weren't getting anywhere over videocall- though, aside from a few superstitions, they're really quite harmless.”
They arrive at the landing bay, and Vodel puts his hands on his hips. “Now, I would stick around, but you're the best in the fleet! Not to mention the fact that each bridge member is a specialist in their own right, and- my my my- I dare say that the other deep-space ships are very jealous of you!”
“Thank you,” Jim says, fimly. “I understand you have an emergency to attend to on Hydrox V?”
“Oh, yes. Their previous leader died of illness, and there's distrust among the temporary government. You have no idea how deadly these disputes can become.”
“Hmm. It's fortunate you were nearby.”
“Undoubtedly!” He beams. “Now, where is that yeoman…?”
His crewman appears at his shoulder wearing a cream-colored hijab. “Ambassador?”
“Ah, splendid! You've calculated the telemetry, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent! Well, come along, then; that internal conflict is hardly going to solve itself…”
The yeoman flashes Jim a long-suffering smile as they pass a datacard to him, then vanish as quickly as they arrived. Vodel follows in a flurry of chatter and fabric, and his clothes glow like dying embers. In the sudden silence, Jim is left in an empty corridor as the lights turn from pink to blue.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, and leans against the nearest wall unit.
“Bridge?”
The speaker crackles.
“Have you finished with our charming ambassador?” Nyota says, neutrally.
“Yes, he's returned to his ship.” He pauses. “How come none of the diplomats we meet are ever diplomatic?”
“Oh, he seemed sufficiently diplomatic, Captain.”
Jim smirks, and slots the datacard into the reader. “Is there time to analyse this before we leave?”
“I'll put an ensign on it.”
Jim nods, and turns away.
“Wait!” Her voice brightens. “It's the glyphic data which got lost in the transfer. It'll help me calibrate the universal translator for written documents.”
Jim narrows his eyes. “So, nothing pressing, then?”
“Well, I might help that ensign with it… It's always good to know if something's a marriage document before you sign it.”
“Hey. That was a Declaration Of Betrothal, and I've told you I'm sorry.”
“Well, you still refuse to follow through with it. It hurts my feelings, that's all.”
He smiles. “I'll make it up to you.”
“Mr Spock has suddenly become very interested in the scanner unit,” Nyota says, in an undertone.
*
“No warp-capable society is ‘harmless’, Captain,” Spock announces as Jim steps out of the turbolift.
“Good morning to you, too, Spock. I assume this means you've read the ambassador's report?”
Spock raises an eyebrow. “Twice, Captain. Ambassador Vodel's research was remarkably concise.”
Jim's face twitches. “Yes, I've heard. We can send an away-team to complete the additional readings we'll need before the diplomatic team beams down.”
Something flits across his face. “The scans were at Doctor McCoy's insistence, not mine.” He places his hands behind his back. “He would, however, find such an oversight disturbing.”
“‘Disturbing,’ Spock?”
“The ambassador is unable or unwilling to accommodate the extra environmental scans, thereby putting its crewmembers at risk… An emotional being such as The Doctor would find that disturbing.”
“Ah, I see. It's kind of you to look out for his feelings that way- and logical, of course- but I'll deal with him.”
Nyota smiles to herself as she analyses the glyphic data.
*
The away team assembles in the transporter room, and splits into two groups of six. The first contains Jim, Spock, Hikaru and Nyota, with science officers Stevenson and Imada rounding up the back. The second group is comprised mostly of redshirts.
For this outing, Nyota has donned a command-gold uniform instead of her usual red, and Hikaru has changed into science blues.
There are two additional communications officers in group two, one of whom is an ensign. Jim frowns, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he turns to Nyota.
“Lieutenant Uhura, do you want to brief us?”
“I do,” she smiles, and addresses the crowded room. “The Ignean lingua franca draws influence from almost five hundred others, some of which are pidgin forms from their off-world colonies. Their sentence structure is flexible, and often changes depending on context.” She glances at Jim, then back to the group. “Most sentences take the form of Object-Subject-Verb, but not all of them. The Universal translator is still learning their language- as am I- so it won't always be able to rearrange their sentences in real-time, as many of you may be used to. For those of you who may have skipped your rotation in comms, you may not be aware that OSV is the rarest word-order structure found on Earth. So, if anyone has any difficulty understanding what they're hearing: see me after class.”
There are several chuckles.
Jim smiles. “And, if in doubt, let our linguists do the talking.”
“Right,” Nyota beams. “That's all.”
“One more thing-”
“I have a briefing,” says a gruff voice behind them. Doctor McCoy stands in the doorway, wearing medical scrubs and a scowl. “Make sure you scan any flora before you approach it, no matter how familiar it looks.”
“Thank you, Bones,” Jim interrupts him, and signals to the rest of the group.
Bones harrumps loudly as the officers takes their places on their respective transporter pads.
“And, before we beam down-” Jim turns to Nyota again. “A question from someone who may have skipped his rotation in comms…”
She smiles. “Captain?”
“If the universal translator isn't drastically changing its output, will the Ignee be able to understand us?”
“So long as we keep contractions to a minimum, I don't see why not.”
“You mean 'do not see why not',” Kilgore reminds her.
Nyota points to her. “You are sharp, ensign. This is why I brought you along.”
“I am glad we worked this out before we beamed down,” Hikaru says.
“Technically, the universal translator will not have any issue working out contracted speech on our end,” Stevenson says, playfully. “But it may help to reduce lag.”
“Yes.” Nyota nods. “Fascinating.”
Bones looks aghast. “Lord help me, Jim, one Vulcan's enough, and now there're five of them!”
Spock cocks an eyebrow at him, and Jim smiles.
“Energise, Mr Scott!”
[CHAPTER 1] [CHAPTER 2 (TBA)]
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dustmusings · 11 months ago
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technical devotion, part sixteen: old friends
a/n: this one's a bit longer since I had a good few things to fit in. also fair warning, the next few parts will have some serious angst and sad echo & kan
warnings: none :)
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Echo woke up to the sight of Kan sat at her desk, or more accurately, crouched. Her feet were on the seat of the chair, and she was curled up, her knees against her chest as she looked over something on her computer, her glasses hanging onto the tip of her nose.
She noticed him stir and looked over with a shy smile, “Morning”
“Morning” He replied, and she gulped at the gravelly sound of his voice.
“What time is it?”
“Around 0830, I grabbed you some caf” Kan nodded to the cup next to her on the desk.
Echo sat up with a small groan and suddenly felt very insecure about not wearing a shirt around Kan, who on the other hand was extremely flushed at seeing his exposed body.
“Here” She handed him the cup of caf, “It might be a little cold by now, but it's better than nothing, maybe”
“Thank you” He smiled gratefully and took a sip. “I didn't fully realise yesterday but…” He looked around the room, “It's really tidy in here”
“Well you said you prefer things to be organised” Kan shrugged, her eyes unmoving from the holoscreen of her computer, and his eyes snapped back to her.
“I didn't mean that you should tidy your space”
“Well, I wanted you to feel comfortable in here” Kan said simply.
Echo’s heart clenched more with every word she spoke, feeling so moved by her actions once again.
“That's very kind M'aira, but I already did”
Kan looked to him upon hearing the sincerity in his voice, her eyes trailing down his exposed chest and gulping again, “It was long overdue a clean anyway”
Echo just watched as her eyes flicked over the holoscreen. She seemed more on edge than she had been when he woke up, and he leaned forwards, “M'aira, is everything okay?”
Kan looked to him and her eyes dragged up and down his body again without her permission. This time Echo noticed.
“Yeah I'm fine” She looked back to the holoscreen.
“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Echo asked, his cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment as he grabbed his shirt from the newly cleaned floor.
“Um” Kan looked back at him again. She didn’t want him to think it was because of his cybernetic attachments, but she was floundering for something to say. “Not uncomfortable, just… distracted maybe” Her cheeks flushed deeply as she turned away again, and she missed the surprised look on Echo's face.
He tilted his head to the side, staring at the Mirialan woman, “Distracted?”
“Mhm” She said more squeakily than she had meant to, not daring to look at him.
A small smirk graced Echo's features as he pulled on his blacks and came to stand by her, leaning on the back of her chair, “What are you up to?”
“Trying to recover the files from this datacard” She pointed to the card that was stuck into her computer, the one he had retrieved yesterday and dropped on the floor of the command room.
He nodded, “And how long have you been… sitting like this?”
“All morning, why?”
Echo winced, “That's gotta be killing your back”
“It's fine” She rolled her shoulders backwards and he heard a few cracks.
“If you insist, sounds like you could use a massage though”
Kan chuckled, “Oh yeah? And who around here is gonna be the one to do it? You?” She smirked up at him, but her face fell instantly, and she turned back, “Don't answer that”
Echo's face contorted into one of equal confusion and amusement. He came to stand next to her and leaned his cybernetic hand on her desk, getting in her field of view, “What's got into you today?”
“I don't know what you're talking about” She replied quickly
“Hm” Echo hummed, a smirk stretching across his face
“How's your wound?” Kan asked, trying to change the subject.
Echo stood up straight again, “A little sore”
“Turn around” She demanded, her eyes still on the screen. Echo did as she said, and could feel her lift up his blacks, and peel back the bacta patch.
“Looks like it's healing well, stay still” Kan removed the patch and replaced it with fresh one. “There” She said and put the medkit away.
Echo turned back to her, but she was already looking at the screen again.
“M'aira” He spoke softly, making her look up to him. Using the nickname that only he had for her made her suddenly feel so oddly shy, “Thank you for letting me stay here”
“Anytime” She smiled, “Uh, I meant-”
“I know what you meant” He smiled back, “I'll see you around”
Echo brought his hand to her face and gently stoked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, before moving towards the door without another word.
“Bye” Kan said softly as he left, tracing her cheek where his touch still burned into her skin.
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At lunch time, Kan was sat with Teddy, Howzer and Oscar, but she was once again gazing over at Echo.
She was a little perplexed by his simple action from earlier, but she was beginning to play with the idea that it wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility that Echo might feel similar affections to her, for her. When she really thought about it, it didn't seem crazy, but the idea of facing up to it and telling him how she felt certainly did.
Howzer watched Kan for a moment, practically drooling over someone across the room, “Got your eye on someone there K?”
“What? No” Kan looked down, taking a forkful of food and almost choking on it with how quick she swallowed it.
“Come on, you're always looking over there, which one of them is it?” Howzer pressed, leaning in with a taunting smirk.
“You're making stuff up” Kan shook her head disapproving.
“I bet it's Rex” Oscar grinned.
“It's not Rex” Kan screwed up her face at the accusation.
“No I reckon it's Gregor” Howzer smirked.
“You guys clearly don't pay attention” Teddy shook his head at his brothers. Naturally, having talked to Kan about it, he already knew which one of them it was, but he wasn't above teasing her about it. “Echo wasn't in his bunk last night, but do you know who was?” He looked to Kan and she blushed deeply, her head tilting away from the clones.
“Oh my god, you're with Echo?” Oscar gasped, a little too loudly for Kan’s taste. She leaped forwards to try and stop him but she was far too late.
“I'm not with him” She whispered aggressively.
“But you like him, don't you?” Howzer smirked and Kan’s stern demeanour faltered a little.
“Maybe a bit, so what?”
“So…” Howzer drew out the word with an eye roll, “Why don't you make a move?”
“What? No! I don't even know if he likes me that way” Kan sat back, frowning.
“Be serious” Teddy deadpanned.
“Besides, this isn't exactly the place for it, we've all got a job to do here and I'm not compromising that for anyone” Kan reasoned, just saying anything to get them off her back, but the sentiment surprisingly rang true when she thought more about it.
“Yeah yeah, that's as good an excuse as any, but I think we all deserve a little happiness too” Howzer said more seriously.
“Whatever” Kan mumbled, not particularly wanting to continue the conversation.
“Ugh, I can't believe you're cheating on me” Oscar huffed with a pout.
“Please, I would never be yours in a million years” Kan rolled her eyes affectionately, the running joke only wearing her down a little. The others snickered, Howzer nudging his brother a little.
“That's just unnecessary” Oscar grumbled, playing with his food.
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Kan sat on the edge of the landing platform outside of the base, taking in the last of the next evening's sun. The gentle breeze swayed her hair, making it tickle at her face.
“Mind if I join you?” A cheery voice called out to her, and she looked around to see Gregor striding over.
“Sure” She replied.
Gregor took his seat beside her and smiled, “You ready for this upcoming mission?”
“Yeah I can't wait” Kan breathed out, a grin taking over her face.
Gregor returned the expression, “Always so eager huh?”
Kan shrugged, “I like being out in the field, makes me feel useful”
“Yeah I get that” Gregor replied, “Echo's enroute with the clone by the way, he commed me a little bit ago, should be here any moment”
As if on cue, a ship descended past the clouds and made its way towards the landing platform where Kan and Gregor sat. They tracked it with their eyes, standing up when it landed.
Kan had tried to get Echo to stay, to let his wound heal, but it was difficult to win against the fierce loyalty he had to his brothers. She was glad to see him again now, of course, but the surprise that awaited her when the ship's door opened far exceeded her expectations. The unmistakable webbed scar that earned the man his name made recognition wash over her immediately.
Kan's body froze. Then, not a moment later, she was running. She ran towards the man she'd once proudly called her brother, her ori'vod. His eyes locked with hers and instantly went wide, almost convinced he was hallucinating. Kan stopped just in front of him, her sudden hesitancy obvious on her features.
“Don't worry” Spider tapped the side of his head where a thin scar could be seen through his closely cropped hair, “I'm not going to hurt you”
Kan felt completely overwhelmed by her emotions, and jumped at the clone, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Spider held her close, his strong grip keeping her off of the ground as he spun her around. He laughed deeply as he placed her down, and the familiar sound made her chest fill with warmth.
“I missed you vod'ika” He grinned, unable to hide his glee at seeing her once more.
“I missed you too” She smiled, looking over his face and taking in the ways he had changed.
The lines on his face were more defined than she remembered, and his eyes held a certain exhausted quality that told her he had not had an easy go of it, whatever he had been up to since she saw him last.
Spider’s grin faded, “I'm so sorry for everything, for what happened the last time I saw you”
“It's okay, I know it wasn't your fault” Kan sighed.
“I know but… I remember it all. I remember your face when we turned on you, when I… I don't think I'll ever forget”
Kan put her hand on his face, over his scar, “It's okay Spider, I forgive you”
The clone leaned into her touch, a contented sigh escaping him, “It's really good to see you Kan, I'm glad you're okay”
“Likewise” She smiled, then dropped her hand from his face. “Come” She ushered him over to meet Gregor, who had since been joined by Rex.
“You guys know each other?” Rex asked.
“Yeah, my vod'ika here was the best engineer in the 41st” Spider ruffled her hair.
“The only engineer in the 41st” Kan mumbled with a smirk, fixing her hair.
“Kan, you served in the GAR?” Gregor asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Uh- yeah, sort of” She said sheepishly.
“That makes so much sense” Rex said thoughtfully, thinking about the way she went on in the command centre, “Why didn't you say anything?”
“Uh-” She looked to Echo who had joined the group silently, then to Spider, who's expression told her he knew exactly why, “Just not always something I want to remember, maybe”
“Right” Rex nodded, understanding all too well, “Well anyway, it's Spider right?”
As the other three clones found themselves in conversation, Kan looked to Echo again. He was grinding his jaw slightly, looking to the floor and not partaking in the conversation at all. She tried to catch his eye, but he was seemingly avoiding eye contact altogether, so instead she reached out. He was only stood next to her, so she lightly brushed his pinky finger with hers.
His head snapped up, eyes locking with hers, slightly widening when she locked her finger around his.
“Are you okay?” She asked in a whisper, and he just nodded, giving her a tight smile and looking away again, taking his hand away from hers and crossing his arms.
Kan continued to watch him, a frown creasing her brow. She wondered if something had happened on his trip, and broadly she just wondered why he was acting like this.
Echo knew he was being childish, acting up because he got his feelings hurt, but it was hard to stop himself. Seeing Kan so gleefully bound into Spiders arms had set his teeth on edge, and it didn't take a genius to guess why. He couldn't stop the feeling of jealousy that arose in his gut and spread throughout him like a wildfire.
It made sense, she hadn't seen Spider in a long time, but the idea of there now being someone here at the base that she was closer with than him, made him nervous. He had no right to be angry with her at all, he hadn't expressed his feelings for her so explicitly, though he'd think her a fool for not realising, everyone else had. For now, he'd rather be avoidant of the issue than talk about it, especially right now in front of everyone.
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“This is your office?” Spider asked sceptically as Kan showed him inside.
“Yeah…?” Kan replied.
“Why's it so tidy in here? I've never known you be so tidy”
Kan chuckled nervously, “Heh, you know, just felt like cleaning”
Spider narrowed his eyes at her, “Hm, I don't buy it”
Kan rolled her eyes, taking a seat at her desk while Spider took the bunk. They spent the evening catching up, talking about their experiences in the war and beyond. Spider had defected from the Empire almost immediately after order 66, which had earned him a one way ticket straight to prison, where he had remained until Rex's people had managed to get him out. Kan told him of how she had been working with Senator Organa until she'd heard of the base here, and told him of the missions she had done since. Spider couldn't help but notice how often Echo's name came up.
“Ah, okay” Spider nodded slowly, a wide grin stretching across his face, “I get it”
“Get what?” Kan asked, her head cocked in confusion.
“You and this Echo guy” He said, an eyebrow raising.
“What about us?” Kan kept her voice flat, but her blushing cheeks betrayed her.
“Oh come on, there's obviously something going on”
“There isn't”
“Right, but I know you wish there was” He replied in a teasing voice.
“I'm not talking to you about this” Kan rolled her eyes affectionately, standing up and moving towards the door.
“I'll get it out of you one of these days” He grinned, poking her in the abdomen as she opened the door.
Stood just outside as the door zipped open, was Echo himself, his hand raised in a fist as if he was about to knock.
“Ah, speak of the devil” Spider grinned, earning an unimpressed look and sharp elbow to the ribs from Kan.
Echo looked minorly alarmed, but chose just to ignore it, “Sorry, I didn't realise you had compa-”
“Spider was just leaving” Kan interrupted him, hoping to get him to stay before he slunk off again.
Spider looked between Kan and Echo with a smirk, “I'll leave you guys to it then”
Kan rolled her eyes at the clone who seemed intent on embarrassing her, then turned to Echo with an adoring smile, “Do you want to come in?”
“If that's alright” He said slightly hesitantly.
“Of course it is” Kan stepped out of the way and he entered, sitting on the bed where Spider had been. He noted the warmth beneath him as he sat and really hoped it was just from one person having been in the spot. He immediately banished that thought from his head, but Kan was intrigued and concerned by his silence.
“Did you have something to say or…?”
“No I just came to see you” He spoke, and the atmosphere of the room was suddenly overwhelmingly awkward. Echo couldn't think of what to say. Conversation usually flowed naturally between the two of them, and if it didn't then the silences certainly weren't as awkward as this.
“Is everything okay?” Kan asked quietly, “You seemed a bit out of it when you got back”
“Yeah I'm fine” He said dismissively, and visibly cringed when it became even more awkward. “So… Spider was a good friend of yours?” He tried making conversation but he just felt that he sounded ridiculous.
“Uh, yeah. He was a Lieutenant in the 41st, I was closer to him than anyone else probably. I was only young when I joined, so he kinda looked after me a bit”
“Right” Echo nodded and looked down to his lap. He didn’t want to feel jealous, and he felt ridiculous for letting those kind of thoughts fester in his mind. He certainly wasn't going to say anything about it, and luckily Kan changed the subject.
“How's your blaster wound?” She sat beside him on the bed.
“Fine”
“Can I take a look?”
Echo looked up at her beside him. He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately conceded in a matter of seconds, “Sure”
Kan carefully lifted up his top and peeled back the bandage just a bit to get a look at it. Echo couldn't help but shiver at the gentle touches of her soft hands on his back.
“It's healing up nicely” She confirmed as she put the bandage back in its place and pulled down his top.
“Thanks to you” Echo said pointedly.
“I didn't do much” Kan chuckled, looking up into his eyes as he turned to face her. There was an undeniable sadness, almost a longing look in them.
“Echo what's the matter?” She whispered, her brows pinched in concern.
“It's nothing, don't worry about it” He gave her an ingenuine tight smile for the second time today, and it only made her frown.
“Echo, please,” She urged, her grip on his arm tightening just a bit.
“I'm okay, just tired” He shrugged, looking away so he wouldn't fall for the trap that was Kan’s deep green eyes.
“Do you want to stay here again?”
“No that's okay, you have it” He stood up and Kan’s hand fell from his arm.
Kan bit her lip, her confidence faltering despite her next words “What if I want you to stay here?”
Echo looked down at her but she wasn’t meeting his gaze. She had said it so quietly that he wasn’t entirely sure he had heard her correctly, “What was that?”
“Uh- You dont have to, it's okay, just-” She looked up at him finally and his expression almost made her melt. He was looking at her so adoringly, his eyes crinkling with a light smile.
“I can stay if you want me to”
Kan began rambling, “If you want, just because of your wounds and because you're tired and-”
“You don't need to explain M'aira, I'd like to stay” He said gently, taking a step towards her.
Kan smiled shyly, “Okay, I've got a few things to go over in command but I'll be back soon” She spoke, standing up. She found herself almost chest to chest with her favourite clone, and it was almost too much to handle.
“Alright, I'll see you in a bit then” Echo spoke quietly, biting back the grin that threatened to take over his face.
Kan nodded, letting her eyes drift to his lips for just a second before she immediately left the room.
Echo sighed as he watched her go. Sometimes it really felt like something was happening between them, but then he'd be reminded of how kind she was with everyone, how affectionate, and that put it in perspective.
He knew they had a bond, it was unquestionable at this point. They understood each other in a way that didn't entirely make sense to him, or at least, he couldn't figure out why it was Kan specifically that made him feel like this. It was just inherent in some way. He only hoped that he was that person for Kan.
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When Kan returned almost two hours later, the lights were out and Echo was tucked up against the wall in her bunk, seemingly asleep, and shirtless. The covers pooled at his waist, exposing his toned back for her to see in all its glory. She could easily admit it was a sight she wouldn't mind seeing every night.
She quietly got changed into her sleep clothes, an oversized t-shirt and loose trousers, hoping not to wake him in the process. She slowly slid into the bed behind him, and he shifted, a small mumbled noise signifying him having woken up.
“You've been gone a long time” He said sleepily, making Kan smile at the frankly adorable sound of it.
“I had to show Spider to the barracks, we just chatted for a little while”
Echo came out with what sounded like an unsatisfied grunt, and Kan frowned slightly as she settled beside him.
“What is it?”
“Do you like him?” Echo mumbled, and Kan couldn't help but laugh.
“I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer” She shook her head slightly.
“Does that mean yes?”
“Echo” She said amusedly, placing a hand on his bare back and rubbing her thumb over his skin gently, “You do realise that you're the one sleeping in my bed tonight, right?”
She felt a small chuckle rumble through him, “Yes, I realise”
Kan chuckled as well, and then her mind brought forth how he had acted when him and Spider had arrived at the base, “Is that what you were upset about earlier?”
Echo hesitated for a moment, “Maybe”
Kan laughed heartily, and slid her hand around his abdomen and pulled herself into his back, slotting their bodies together, “You're ridiculous”
Echo placed his hand over Kan’s and intertwined his fingers with hers. He relished in the warmth of her embrace, and everything just felt right in the galaxy in that moment. There was no Empire, no need for rebellion, there was just him and Kan, pressed against each other and fitting together as if this was why they were made.
There was so much unsaid between them, and both of them knew it, but for right now, they'd just enjoy the moment. They didn't know what was to come, and unbeknownst to them, this was going to be as good as it got for a long time.
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hydr0phius · 2 years ago
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Welcome back to more crack summaries and notes. Today it's Thrawn Ascendancy: Lesser Evil, and I am absolutely distraught after reading it.
Linked: Chaos Rising and Greater Good
Starting out strong with this one aren't we, Mr. Zahn?
...
Samakro: please let this be a normal fucking side trip-
...
The Springhawk: *appears*
Jixtus: Not this mf again. Give me a damn BREAK-
...
Thrawn, over comms: If there are any Watith here, we have your prisoners.
Generalius Nakirre: I'm going to answer him.
Jixtus: Do NOT
...
Generalius Nakirre: If you're not going to tell me, I'll just ask him.
Jixtus: nO-
...
(word for word)
Generalius Nakirre: The Kilji path will prove superior
Thrawn, flatly: No. It will not.
Generalius Nakirre: Again, you dismiss our wisdom without even hearing it.
Thrawn: In my experience, superior wisdom can stand on its own merits. It does not require a warship to force acceptance.
Generalius Nakirre: You also bring a warship to this place.
Thrawn: But I do not claim to offer superior wisdom. Nor do I intend to impose my wisdom upon others.
(Thrawn, I love you dearly).
...
Jixtus, quietly in the background for the last five minutes of the comm call with Nakirre and Thrawn: Oh my fucking gods, DISENGAGE. DO NOT LET HIM KNOW ANYTHING MORE ABOUT YOU-
...
Nakirre, internally during the comm call and Jixtus' warnings: WHY SHOULDN'T I FUCK HIM UP? HE'S ASKING FOR IT. IT WOULD BE SO EASY.
...
Thrawn: *blank stare on the bridge, facing Thalias*
Thalias: Look at him going into deep thought. *Turns back to Che'ri*
Thrawn, directly behind her now: So have you-
Thalias, jumping about a foot in the air: -STOP SNEAKING UP ON PEOPLE LIKE THAT!!!!
Thrawn: I wasn't????? Anyway, has Che'ri had anymore nightmares?
(He was sneaking but he doesn't know that lmao).
...
Lamiov: *sends Ba'kif a message about Thrawn*
Ba'kif: *Dropping absolutely everything and moving faster than his colleagues would if there was all out war because his Son is up to things*
...
^^^ All that was just in the prologue and I was nearly losing it lmao.
...
Thurfian: *makes a decision*
Thivik: *judgemental vibes*
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Thrawn: *rattling off info about the paintings in the reception area of the Mitth crib on wherever it is that they were*
Thrass: How the fuck did you know all of that-
...
Lappincyk: Larawn. Has a nice ring to it.
Me thinking of that vine: Larawn James sjsjs
...
Lappincyk: Ok and what is Thrawn to you?
Thrass making a spur of the moment decision: He's my friend.
Thrawn, sitting down: :3
(That felt like a set up. Thooraki and Lamiov going "Thrawn needs someone who knows politics" and then shoving Thrass into his orbit).
...
Jixtus: I have information you'll want
Thistrian: let me consult with the Patriarch.
Thurfian: Tell them to feck off. We don't want anything to do with them.
Thistrian: o h
...
Ba'kif when he found out about the Magys: SORRY YOU WHAT- NO. WHAT POSSESSED YOU
Thrawn: :)
Samakro: I'll see this through. I'm in too deep.
...
Thivik what's on that datacard??? WHAT DID THRASS PUT TOGETHER-
...
All the Thrawn and Thrass interactions give me life.
...
Zistalmu: I got a divorce.
Thurfian: babe, please. :'(
...
Roscu: *blathering on & being all high and mighty while a fucking asteroid missile is lining her up*
Ziinda: Can you shut the fuck up?
Roscu: I- ok.
...
Thrawn: I'll see y'all later. Uingali and I are going on a trip for a bit.
Samakro: k, bye.
later
Samakro: Where are we???
Bridge crew: idk man??
Che'ri: I'm following him. He's in danger and we need to be there.
Samakro after a lot of talking with Thalias: Oh. ok.
...
Thrawn: Can you fire a charric?
Qilori: *nervous wreck* nO
Thrawn dragging him up out of his chair: You're about to learn.
...
Thrass, holding a chair & ready to use it: Yeah, that's right! Drop the knife!
The thief: *slowly puts the knife down, looking behind Thrass the whole time*
Thrawn standing menacingly behind Thrass ready to deck the thief like he did his accomplices: >:)
...
Thrass: Ok, Roscu, but if you did fire on us you'd be killing a Mitth Aristocra and his brother.
Thrawn: :0
Lappincyk: :D
Roscu: Damn, ok.
*after the Odo ceremony*
Thrawn: Are we actually brothers now?
Thrass: Yeah, if you want :3
Thrawn: :') ok
*cue secret sharing*
...
CEDF: *trying to keep the peace in the Ascendancy on Syndicure orders*
CDF and Family Fleets, with the indignant air of a 10 yr old Sephora girl: Oh my GODS, can you LEAVE? You have NO POWER here!!!!
CEDF: Ok, fuck you. *sorts out the fighting anyway then dips off to wherever they get sent to next*
...
Che'ri: I'm fine. I can cook my own food while you're gone, and Mid Captain Samakro can check in on me.
Samakro: *worried Dad being left with the kids for the first time noises*
Thalias: ok.
Che'ri: Niceeee
Samakro: *sweating bullets*
...
Thalias: You Borika?
Borika, fake accent on: You a cop?
Thalias: What-
...
Borika: *nice rancher lady*
Borika 0.5 seconds after Thalias mentions the Seekers program: *pulls a charric on Thalias once they're inside the house and drops the accent*
Thalias: Holy fu- HANg oN-
...
TIMMY!!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU LET BORIKA AND THRAWN MEET!!!!!
...
Fuck the Ascendancy too btw. The systems in place are shit. Those poor sky-walkers.
...
*Two families fighting*
Ar'alani having been sent to deal with it, angry admiral voice engaged: OI, STOP THAT
One gunboat: NO. YOU HAVE NO JURISDICTION HERE CEDF.
Ar'alani, fed up: Flicker all of them, then drag them away from each other
Wutroow: That's going to piss a lot of people off, Admiral.
Ar'alani: idgaf. They're being stupid and putting civilians in danger.
Wutroow: Then might I suggest dragging them back to different orbital levels? if they want at it again, they'll at least have to try.
Ar'alani: Excellent thinking. Let's do that.
...
Ja'fosk 20mins after they flickered everyone and are headed back to UAG: Ar'alani you need to stop hanging around with Thrawn so much.
Ar'alani: Ok but he's right.
Ja'fosk:
Ar'alani: Y'all are just haters.
Ja'fosk: Just get back to UAG.
Ar'alani: Ok.
...
Ar'alani: *Firing on Dy'lothe's ship because he's ignoring her and possibly about to fuck up Thrawn's plan*
Dy'lothe: AR'ALANI, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?
Ar'alani, sick of CDF bs: GETTING YOUR ATTENTION. ANSWER YOUR DAMN COMMS, MAN-
(SHIP, SHIP, SHIP, SHIP)
...
Dy'lothe: Acting on the Syndicure's orders-
Ar'alani: Oh, so illegal orders, then?
Dy'lothe: ...yeah
Ar'alani: ha.
...
Ba'kif: Here's Thrawn's latest plan. I'm giving you and anyone else you can convince permission to go and assist him.
Ar'alani on four hours of sleep: This is completely insane and could ruin our careers.
Ba'kif: So you'll do it, then?
Ar'alani: Of course!
...
Thalias: There's no bus to the spaceport-
Borika: I've got you, girlie. I'll drive you.
...
Samakro: Oh yes, you're Thrawn's big, strong protector.
Thalias: yes.
Samakro: :)
...
Samakro: So, here's Thrawn's plan.
Thalias: Fuckkkkk, that's insane.
Samakro: Yeah... anyway good luck with Thurfian. I'll wait here for you.
(SHIP, SHIP, SHIP!!)
...
Che'ri: *possessed by the Magys*
Samakro, dad mode engaged: IF YOU DON'T LET HER GO, I'LL OBLITERATE YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE
Magys: You jest
Samakro: I do not >:)
Thalias: TAKE ME INSTEAD
Samakro: HELL NO-
...
Thalias: I pulled a charric on the Patriarch.
Samakro: WHAT-
...
Jixtus: And what question would that be?
Thrawn: The most critical one. Are you ready to surrender?
Everyone: oohhHhhoOhohoho, you've got some balls saying that, Senior Captain.
...
QILORI KNOWS ABOUT THE SKY-WALKERS. nOOoooOOOOOOOOO
...
Can we appreciate how well Thrawn's plan went? They tore Jixtus UP.
...
Ja'fosk, pleased: How did Senior Captain Thrawn obtain such accurate information?
Samakro who was fully ready to admit that he fed Thalias false info because he thought she was a spy: o H, uH. Yeah he kinda just pulls things like that out of thin air, you know? I can't explain it.
...
Che'ri has now met both Kivu siblings AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. I think she's going to figure it out if Thalias hasn't told her yet.
...
Everyone going into the chamber thinking Thrawn's going to get a promotion or something and then the Admiralty exiling him and stripping his honour chains sucker punched me in the gut. Thurfian's smugness did not help matters either. I could feel the anger from everyone in that scene.
...
Sorry the way the Aristocra had everyone lined up for serious consequences instead of the commendations etc they got in the end because Thrawn took all of the blame himself to keep them in positions where they'd be able to guide the Ascendancy's forces in his absence got to me oh my gods.
...
Ba'kif: We're telling you so that you don't kick up a fuss about the exile thing
Ar'alani: I would never!
(She would. She was going to)
...
Ba'kif: *explaining the Clone Wars*
Ar'alani: I'm not remembering all that. Happy for them, though. Or Sorry that happened.
...
(Not crack, just pain)
Ar'alani: Don't you dare leave before I say goodbye to you, Thrawn.
Thrawn: Of course not. That's not what friends do.
Timmy: *doesn't write their goodbye scene*
Me: *screaming*
...
Thrawn: It's only for six months. Perhaps a year.
Ar'alani: And then you come home?
Thrawn: Yes. It will be alright.
Me: It was not, in fact, alright. seventeen-ish years and then another nine missing out on Peridea is not 1, mate.
...
Ba'kif: it's a shame I'll never see you in admiral whites.
Thrawn: Nobody here is senseless enough to promote me to admiral lmao
...
Ba'kif: We have time for one final meal together, if you wish
Thrawn: If you don't mind, I'd like to eat alone. There's a bistro where Thrass and I used to meet. I'd like to spend my last evening on Csilla remembering him.
...
I'm not okay. Probably going to have new fics to write now. hhhhhhh. That was sad as hell at the end there.
...
Also these two trilogies just highlight how little Felony understands Thrawn, and I hope all of you understand after reading the books, how badly he massacred our boy in Ahsoka. It shouldn't be, "omg we got him in live action!" anymore. It should be, "who is that blue guy and why are we being given such shit quality shows and expected to like it when the characters that mean so much to us have been reduced to having less dimension than a cardboard cut out, and that a slug could move 1 kilometer at a faster pace than the supposed plot that's scarcely here?" Have some standards that aren't six feet under, please, everyone (this is not aimed at y'all who have seen this from the start <3).
Anyway! Onto the Imperial Era I go :D
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jedidryad · 10 months ago
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WIP Wednesday: It's hard to be practical and pragmatic in this galaxy
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If you've read The Hand of Thrawn Duology, you will know that Mara's search for Jorj Car'das results in data on how to get to a planet called Exocron. Since it's all a retcon, Zahn handwaves it with about three lines of set up in a dialogue exchange between Karrde and Lando while Mara is on Nirauan.
But she had to get that information somehow, so here's my supposition about how the journey to Exocron began, with information pulled from The Darkstryder Campaign- Kathol Outback via Wook.
“You found something then.” Karrde sounded relieved if still nonplussed as he grabbed two datapads off his desk. He handed one to me as I stood up holding one of the datacards.
Ghent continued to wriggle uncomfortably. He mumbled about things being impossible as Karrde and I pulled up the records.
What he’d found was a collection of star charts and entries in historical records, and also references in other texts: mythologies, religious ceremonies, folk tales.
I felt my brows knit together as Karrde continued to ask questions and Ghent only grew more flustered.
Then I stumbled across a verse, a holographic image that had clearly started life as vellum or nerf hide. The quatrain looked ancient.
I read aloud, 
“The coveted haven of the precious vessel, In celestial realms of treach’rous spectro, None alight without doubtful wrestle –”
“– on the hidden world of Exo”
I glanced up at Karrde as he cut me off to finish the fabled verse. He looked at me, bemused, “it’s the Cothian Rubei”
“Kriff. We’re at a total dead end.” I flopped down on Karrde’s sofa next to Ghent, “Sithspawn. Two years and all we come up with is a crikking mythical planet!”
“Car’das was a philosophical sort,” Karrde mused, rubbing his chin.
“Deamos Na Coth wasn’t a philosopher,  he was a madcap spiritualist.”
“Says the Jedi.”
“I’m not a Jedi!”
“Fine, you just use the Force sometimes.”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it.”
“Mara, do you really think it’s impossible there’s some unexplored planet out there that resembles the lush green paradise of Exo?”
I stared down at the star charts and historical accounts in my hands. I’d read the stories of the expeditions to find Exo. They’d been led by a philosopher named Deamos-Na Coth in pre-Imperial times. The planet was supposed to be incredibly beautiful, a paradise available to those who knew where to seek it. 
Most of the expeditions had been disasters with few ships ever returning. Those that were recovered had clearly been raided by bloodthirsty pirates and slavers, or had become sites of bitter mutinies. Most ships had disappeared forever, lost somewhere between the stars. It had been presented to me as foolish to try to find a mythical planet when there was a beautiful, glorious Empire to serve.
“Of course it’s possible." I conceded, "there’s any number of planets that could match that description: Naboo, Yavin, even Endor if your paradise includes Ewoks, but that’s the thing. He could be anywhere now.”
“Ghent’s digging seems to point to Kathol.”
“Oh of course, the Kathol Rift, where comms get inexplicably jammed,  pilots go mad and pirates lie in wait to scavenge over the wreckage.”
“You don’t need to go in there, just pay a visit to the Kathol Republic and see what you can find out about the area.”
“You’re starting to sound desperate, Karrde.”
“You know I wouldn’t dare trust anyone else with this.”
I frowned. “I know.”
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dapurinthos · 6 months ago
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the thing is, the archives are not a library. the jedi temple has to also have libraries where you can take the books out, not just the archive where you can't check things out. yes, the 'halls' divide the archives into sections, but everything in there is probably written by jedi, not just their journals (the entire top floor is probably just journals).
the corps probably have their own libraries, each. and the crèche. and the initiate & padawan dormitory sections, for academic assignments and the like. i imagine checking a holobook out is more like someone authorizing it to display its contents as the equivalent to scanning a barcode, going from the concept art from jedi: survivor.
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the main text is on one screen and the other one shows you highlights you've saved, is where you can zoom in on images, and interact with the text in ways that you might be able to save to a datacard, if you can insert one in the bottom where that particular dark section is (it looks like a floppy disk drive).
so far i'm going with the aurebesh digraphs for ch, kh, sh, and th as indicators for which hall the book belongs to. the top category/facet is indicate by one of the vowels [a, ae for the 1st - history, philosophy; e, eo for the 2nd - math, sciences, o, oo for the 3rd - geography, politics, & i, u for the 4th - flora, fauna], followed by permutations of the percentage sign where º/ indicates the upper floor and the circle on the opposite side, on the bottom, indicates the main one.
so the beginning would look like: ʧæº/ (except in aurebesh) for something that's in first hall, categorized under philosophy, and located on the upper floor (this also has the advantage of reading like a word - chæ-2). also part of this section would be the alphanumeric sequence that further separates the work's subject from others, e.g. philosophy of the ductavis period concerning planetary shielding, and encodes its chronology/era, the school of philosophy it belongs to, etc. without being hierarchical in design (like the library of congress and dewey), so: ductavis period: philosophy of defence : protection, with something like a cutter number for each section. if i wanted to be really ornery, it would all be in individual tythonese glyphs separated by colons.
the next part would be something like publication year : language code : author code : which # publication of the author it was during that year : volume number. the journals would have a slightly different way of doing this, where it indicates what type of publication it is.
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Combat Patrol, Issue 01
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Okay, Issue #1! The start of a new long-term project... No idea how to break into it so let's just jump in. 😅 [Go below the cut for a look inside Issue 01. Also: I know I'm late, I'm writing a fictionalization of the battle between the two included in the issue and it's taking longer than I thought.💜]
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Here we have the contents of our first issue. In addition to the promised magazine and models, we've got a small set of dice to add to my ever-growing collection of dice-included-in-GW-starter-sets – not that I mind, I've got just about enough 12mm's to play a game and they fit conveniently into the little bag my Hivestorm wound-counting bases came in. 😄 We also have a two-sided battlemat (industrial on one side and wilderness on the other) and a poster with promo material on the back for subscriptions. (Which doesn't make much sense to me, I bought the subscription, I know what comes with it. 🤷🏻‍♀️)
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A closer look at the sprue with our first two models. Both are push-fit so easy to slap together quickly if you just want to get them on the table and throw dice. Pretty sure these are production leftovers from the Leviathan box but that was actually before my time and I'm not 100% on what was in that one. 😅 Nothing further is remarkable about it.
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Now let's crack open the magazine. First up is some perfectly fine Warham's-first-models introductions to cutting, cleaning, and gluing (despite the push-fit models with this issue) and the construction guides for our Space Marine Captain and Winged Tyranid Prime. Pretty standard fare, so far.
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Next up we get some fluff including quick intros for the included factions and we get our first unit cards. On the back of each is the Combat Patrol Datacard for the unit, and on the front we get a little lore and a space to track our hobby progress, but also to start giving our forces some character. I look forward to filling up a binder with profiles for each of my little guys as we progress. 😊
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And here they are all built and ready for combat. [In the future I'll actually include some step-by-step of the hobby stuff but not much to do in this issue but clip 'em out and put 'em together. 😄]
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Speaking of combat – next is our combat scenario, if you can call it that. 😅 Of course we need to start at the beginning and start small but it still feels a little silly. Oh well, this is what we've got. 😅 Essentially a good ol' punchout, we'll put our Captain and Tyranid Prime together and they'll trade blows until somebody dies. Watch this space to see who makes it out alive! 😁
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