#planetary scout reader

[bluemoon1331]

Space/Moon

Gonna start off short and sweet with a more horror-inclined one first. @daycarefriendpickup

CW: Violence and implied drowning

The atmosphere is thick and heavy, so laden by mist that, should you breathe in, you could and would very much drown on land. It is through the complex and expensive lenses of your helmet, sealed air-tight around your skull, that you are able to see more than an inch ahead.

An intergalactic venture for such a far off moon seems strange in the grand scheme of things, but you are certainly not complaining. There's always such an eerie newness to the surfaces you traverse, and this celestial orb is no exception. Observing it from above never really did any foreign planet's habitats any justice. No, the only way for true appreciation is up close and personal.

Brushing through the fog, uncanny plants sprout around you, stepping into the equivalent of a kelp forest, towering fronds and jutting rocks, growing muted but colorful mosses, replacing bark-coated trees and shrubbery. 

Noting said moss, you very eagerly dip down for a closer inspection. A peculiar dust coats it, bobbing not unlike bubbles, but thick as syrup. Plucking tweezers from your suit's many folds, you carefully nab just a simple pinch from a crevice and tuck it away into a vial. It will provide a most fascinating study for later, you're sure.

Stepping a bit deeper into the unearthly terrain, you startle at movement in your periphery. Head whipping about, you squint at some nearby kelp, which ripples differently from those around it. Hm. That didn't seem right. Your scans inside your orbiting ship didn't show any signs of life here, yet your knew better than to ignore the shape at the edge of your vision.

Frowning, you throw on your thermal scanner and slowly pan in a circle. Everything reads to be the same temperature, and you can't make out any out-of-place lumps.

Remaining on edge, you turn around, and instantly freeze. Through the clogging droplets, opalescent eyes lock to yours. A figure shifts in the mist, an eel-like tail threading through the rubbery tendrils of the forest. There's a moment, just a single blink, where you acknowledge each other. A rapt study of something different. Something new. Something alien.

Then it darts forward. Your limbs become lead. Colors flash across it lithe body, blues and grays, glinting to yellows and red across rippling scales, then finally near pitch black green, offset by burgundy. Four toned arms spread, the bottom left one striking out in a heartbeat. You're tossed to the ground, the creature's hand engulfing your helmet as it slams your head against the rocky ground.

Panic swells, setting off every alarm and nerve in your body. You try to thrash out, but it's far faster than you, hardly even noticing your attempt to defend yourself. Red warning lights flash across your screen, which splinters under further assault. Too late, you realize your mistake in its camouflaging capabilities.

With a final bash, your helmet crumples in, and the unearthly atmosphere floods in.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

This piece contains 18+ content

pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader

summary After stumbling across Eddie’s intimate drawings of you, you’re left reeling, but what unfolds that night is less about the pictures and more about the trust and closeness they force to the surface. [contains fluff, artsy eddie who's a little rough around the edges, nude drawings, smut | wc 5.8k]

a/n based on this request by the lovely @valinherfantasyworld

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Under the hum of fluorescent lights, you stand waiting as a small fan rotates to blow air your way. The gas pumps outside had been empty, but the open sign held enough promise for you to mosey on in. With a sigh, you reach out to hit the top of the dainty silver call bell for the second time. The checkout counter is dotted with planetary and extra-terrestrial figurines. Old, peeling stickers are stuck to the wood as well. 

It isn’t lost on you that you could bypass paying for the trail mix and jerky and walk out the door. The intrusive thought comes just as Nelson bursts from the break room with his famously grizzled beard. His shoes squeak against the sticky floor as he hobbles to his place behind the counter with considerable reliance on his scuffed, wooden cane. When he sits on the stool, air expels from the cushion in a low, high-pitched whine. 

“My apologies,” he tilts his head to look at you from over the top of his chunky glasses. The prescription is so high that it makes his hazel eyes look larger than they are. 

You shake your head in dismissal as you push Wayne’s snacks towards him with a polite smile. He punches the prices into the cash register with practiced ease. His fingers move quickly and precisely like a starved bird pecking the ground for food.  

“No help today?” you ask. 

Nelson puffs an exasperated breath. “That Henderson kid’s supposed to be here,” he says. “Runnin’ late ‘cause of math club.” 

You hum, trying not to smile when he mutters something about priorities and the youth these days. 

“Need a bag?” He puts the snacks in one before you can answer. “Say, aren’t you dating the Munson boy?” 

“Only for the past six months,” you lightheartedly quip. 

Nelson seldom asked a question he didn’t know the answer to. Everybody in Hawkins shopped at Boone’s Quick Mart, whether they wanted to or not. Convenience trumps luxury any day, and there’s nothing quite like Southern hospitality wrapped in a Midwestern package.

As a pillar in the community for the past thirty years, Nelson Boone knows who’s who and what’s what—Tina Johnson’s divorce from her wandering-eyed husband, Jaden Rockwell’s C+ on his report card, the McNulty family’s move to Boise. This is a man who sees and hears all. 

He meets your gaze with his googly eyes. “So you heard about what happened to him last night?” 

A small stone of worry drops into your gut. “Something happened?” 

Nelson looks at you from over his glasses again, a thrilled smirk playing on his lips. “Something? Hell, I reckon he saved my ass from getting killed.” 

The spark of excitement that curls in his tone reminds you of his tendency to stretch the truth just enough to make eyes widen and jaws drop a little faster. You bar yourself against the bait in hopes he’ll be more stripped and forthcoming. It works, if the way his shoulders relax is any clue. 

“Guy from outta town comes in all big and bad, demanding I empty the register,” he starts. “Meanwhile, Munson’s in the back near the pop. All I’m thinking at this point is, I should’ve gone ahead and made those revisions to my will like I was planning to—” 

“What did Eddie do?” you cut in. 

Nelson clears his throat. “Long story short, the guy whips out some kind of folding knife, they scuffle for a bit, then Munson knocks the rest of buddy’s screws loose.” 

“What?” Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. 

“Scout’s honor,” Nelson says, holding up three fingers. “He didn’t mention it?” 

You blink a few quick times as worry swirls within you. “Haven’t seen him in a few days.” 

Nelson shifts on the stool and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a meaty finger. “Well, that kid’s got the biggest pair in all of Hawkins, I tell you what.” He laughs a quick bark of a sound that sends him into a brief coughing fit. “Imagine that, though. Me dying in ‘88, the year of our Lord.” 

“Imagine that,” you murmur. 

You place the money on the counter with buzzing fingers and blood rushing in your ears. 

•••

Wayne’s truck is the only vehicle parked out front when you arrive at the trailer. The grass is greener, and the small flower bed Eddie helped you plant is vibrant and thriving. Before Spring settled, you’d told both Munsons that nurturing their slice of Hawkins could give them something to feel proud of. They’d taken it to heart. 

Though neither would ever admit it to your face, you’d come into their life and transformed it from grayscale to technicolor. 

As a breeze rustles through the surrounding trees, the early evening sun ventures closer towards the horizon. 

When the front door pushes open with a dull creak, Wayne looks up from where he’s wiping crumbs off the small kitchen table nestled beside the window. He’s in jeans and an old tee that’s loose around the collar. A smile pulls at his lips as you pad inside. 

“Thought that was you,” he says. “What’s this?” Wayne peeks into the bag as you set it on the table. 

“Special delivery.” 

“Told ya you ain’t gotta go outta your way for me like this.” He shakes his head with a sigh, but you know he’s grateful. 

“Saves you an extra stop before work, right?” You gently nudge his shoulder. 

“Thanks, darlin.’” After walking the towel back over to the sink, he catches the hint of concern in your eyes as you linger near the table. 

“Everything alright?” 

You open your mouth a couple of times. “Is Eddie okay?” 

Wayne’s gray eyebrows furrow. “Yeah. I mean, he’s Eddie.” He chuckles. “You just missed him. Called about five minutes ago and said something about getting off a little later than usual.” 

You frown. “So that’s why he hasn’t made it in.” 

Wayne hums a sound of confirmation. “Said he could meet you at Benny’s at six, though,” he says. “Also mentioned something about the lake. Asked you to bring his camera.” 

At the very least, the man’s words assure you that the events of last night hadn’t been as bad as you made them out to be in your mind. 

•••

The next hour passes with a slow, Hawkins kind of ease. When you push into Eddie’s bedroom in search of his camera, the air smells like him: pinewood with a faint, smokey undertone. All things considered, the space is tidier than it’s been over the past couple of weeks. 

The open surfaces are no longer strewn with random receipts and wrappers. All his fantasy figurines are organized with a greater sense of intentionality. Even the Iron Maiden poster, whose corner once slouched off the wall, has now been readhered. 

Leave it up to Eddie to make order out of chaos again and again.  

You locate the Nikon on his dresser in seconds. The frame counter rests a few notches before 1, and after a brief pause of debate, you pop the film door open to see if there’s any film inside. Relief washes over you when you realize the chamber is empty, and you haven’t just exposed a brand-new roll to the light. In search of a fresh canister, you squat at his nightstand and pull open the top drawer. Nothing. Mainly guitar accessories: picks, sheets of music, old bridge pins—along with a couple of stray condoms. 

You move to the drawer beneath it, where journals, sketchbooks, and art supply pouches. However, a small cylindrical container tucked in the back corner catches your attention. The top of your hand pinches against the drawer when you attempt to reach the new roll of film without disturbing the other contents. That’s when you make the executive decision to pull out the first couple of sketchbooks. 

In doing so, three pictures slip out: you on a park bench smiling, you sitting on his bed attempting to play his guitar, you taking too big of a bite off an ice cream cone. 

A smile buds on your face as you flip the sketchbook open to tuck the photos back inside. Time stops. On the page is a beautiful portrait of you. It's not a mere sketch; this is much too involved. You were under the impression that he only ever drew the characters for his campaigns this intricately—dragons, celestials, faye. 

As far as you knew, your likeness was only ever confined to his quicker sketches because you were always around. It was easy to capture you in the moment with no pressure. Can’t replicate perfection, sweetheart. 

It isn’t until you’ve turned a few pages ahead that a different type of surprise prickles through you. Blooming and warm like the beginning of spring, but with a more rogue intensity. One that feels borderline forbidden because this next drawing itself ought to have remained tucked away in a secret place. 

Your lips aren’t wrapped around ice cream but Eddie’s index and middle fingers. A line of saliva runs down your chin as your eyes sparkle. 

You flip to the next drawing. In this one, you’re topless and kneeling, legs spread in an unabashed V. One of your hands plays between your thighs as you look up through your lashes. It’s drawn from memory, no doubt. Eddie had yet to capture you on film in such a vulnerable light. 

Another page. Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your neck. You recognize the skeleton tattoo that constitutes the back of his right hand to give the illusion that his bones are bared. 

Another. Your backside is drawn from the perspective of whoever stands behind you. There’s an abstractness to it, in a way. The shading suggests slight irritation or bruising from impact against your delicate skin. 

The last drawing you gleam features you lying face down with your bottom up, wrists tied with rope. Indents on your skin suggest that you’ve tried to pull free—

Something flips low in your gut. White noise fills your ears as you snap the sketchbook closed and put it back where it belongs. You move on autopilot as you toss Eddie’s camera and film into your tote bag and scramble out of his room. 

•••

The water is calm as it laps at the bank of the lake. Gnats flutter around while tree leaves rustle. On a summer evening such as this, Lover’s Lake is a wonder. Above, the sky stretches like the handiwork of a master artist. Blue fades to burnt orange to rustic lavender in a seamless ombre. Your eyes remain on the water below as you kick your feet off the edge of the dock. 

Eddie nudges your knee with his after a while. The upper portion of his coveralls is tied around his waist, exposing his white T-shirt and lean tattooed arms. The sleeve on his right arm is fuller and extends all the way to his hand. 

Despite the intricate designs inked across his skin, you can make out the thin, red scratches on his forearms and the few cuts that pepper his knuckles. None of them override the dark ink of his tattoos, but you can see them since you’re sitting so close. The ones on his neck are visible all the more because they have little to camouflage with. Some are old, but most of them are undeniably fresher. You’ve been cataloguing them all evening. 

You peer over at him with a pensive smile. His camera rests on the opposite side of him. He’d captured a few shots of you and the scenery when there was a little more light. 

“You’re quiet,” he says.

“Just enjoying the view.” 

Eddie briefly wrinkles his nose and looks out at the lake. Touché. 

The silence returns, but Eddie can’t settle into it for the life of him. He shifts, one knee propping up. “You gotta give me something to work with here.” He tries to meet your adverted gaze. “Did I say something to piss you off?” 

All you can do is manage a swallow. There were enough distractions to carry you through dinner at Benny’s, but the world seems much smaller and stripped out here. No music, chatter, or waitress checking in to refill your drinks. It’s just you, Eddie, and the unmatched stillness of nature. All of which are fertile ground for your thoughts to wander and unavoidably return to the fact he hadn’t said a word about what happened at Boone’s—or the contents of his sketchbook. Especially now that he won’t look away from you. 

Worry intensifies Eddie’s gaze. The same gaze that you now know has studied and considered you more intimately than you ever imagined. You can’t help but feel bare and exposed now. It was yet another brick to lay on top of the fact that he’d refrained from telling you about the events at Quick Mart. 

You finally look over at him.  

“Please talk to me,” he says. 

You take his larger hand in yours. He remains quiet, hopeful. You study his palm, then turn it over to assess the back of his hand, the cuts just barely visible over the skeleton tattoo covering it. You wish he could be a fraction as open and forthcoming as the illusion his tattoo presents.

“Did something happen last night?” you ask. 

A defensive edge slips into his voice. “What do you mean?” 

“At Quick Mart,” you say. 

In the time that Eddie combs through his mind in search of the right approach, you say it yourself, “You were in a fight.” It’s not fair to state it so clinically, but you do it anyway. 

Eddie looks more betrayed than surprised. “No, I wasn’t,” he says. “Not like that.” 

You feel a pang of guilt over the earnest way he expresses it, like a kid trying to prove their innocence. 

Over the years, he’d gotten better about his temper. About how quick he was to handle certain situations with the scrappier instincts of his youth. He knew now, more than ever, that words alone could get him much further than his fists. Throughout the latter half of his overstayed run in the public school system, he’d been forced to prove himself physically time after time, so he had no choice but to get good at it. Sometimes, he jumped the gun, but that wasn’t him. Not anymore.  

“It wasn’t over nothing,” he explains. “Asshole was trying to—” 

“I know, Teddy,” you’re quick to assure, voice soft. “Wasn’t pointing fingers. I’m just glad everybody’s okay.” You squeeze his hand. 

His gaze flickers down. “Sorry,” he murmurs, exhaling. He speaks up after a while. “Was it Nelson who told you?” 

The thought of Nelson—endearing, googly-eyed Nelson—makes your lips twitch upwards. Eddie almost doesn’t believe it, but he’s grateful. A fraction of the tension melts from his shoulders as levity creeps in. He presses closer to feel the shake of your shoulders as you chuckle despite yourself. If you don’t laugh, you’ll mess around and find a reason to cry. 

Your amusement eventually subsides into something stiller. “Wish it’d been you, though.” 

Eddie takes the blow. “Swear I was gonna tell you.” He dips his head to kiss the bulb of your shoulder. “Just wanted to give everything some breathing room. Didn’t want you to get all worked up and worried. Hate making you worry.” 

“Forget worry,” you say lightly. “If something involves you, I’ll always wanna know. I care about you.” Those words stir a gratefulness in his chest.  “I want you to tell me things even when they’re scary or hard.” 

Eddie sees the sincerity in your gaze. A hint of confliction seems to reside there as well.  

“No more secrets,” he promises. 

He holds out his pinkie, and just when he thinks you’re going to ignore it, you hook yours around his. It’s no surprise that he squeezes. As playful as he is, you should’ve seen it coming. You yelp and attempt to pull your hand away, but he leans in to steal a kiss that you allow him to take. A satisfied smile lingers on his face afterward. 

With a proud sigh, he lays back on the wooden planks of the dock, hair splaying like mane. With your eyes you map the faint freckles on his face when he closes his eyes, then trace his eyebrows, the slope of his nose, the relaxed pout of his lips. 

Eddie’s eyes soon flutter open to meet yours.

He offers a smile. “Hmm?”

You shrug, chuckling in a mix of nerves and relief. “Just thinking of something Nelson said about you,” you say. “‘That kid’s got the biggest pair in all of Hawkins.’” 

A surprised laugh bubbles out of him that makes his eyes crinkle and his chest shake. You join in. When the moment settles into something tamer but still a bit charged, Eddie holds your gaze as he reaches down between his legs to rest a hand over his crotch. 

“You’ve seen ‘em first hand,” he drawls, palming himself through the fabric of his coveralls. “Whaddya think?” 

Heat floods your cheeks, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of leaving you speechless. “Jury’s still out.” 

Another laugh rumbles through him and ends with a snort. His eyes shimmer when he calms down. You’re there to twirl your finger around one of his curls and give it an affectionate tug. 

A gentle breeze rolls through and makes a part of you wish it could carry the memory of his drawings away with it. At least so you could settle into the serenity of the moment in an unadulterated way. Those thoughts don’t leave you, however. His face alone is a reminder of his secret envisionings of you. 

•••

Later that night, in the dim lamplight of Eddie’s room, you lie face up on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. It’s as if the act will still your nerves, but it doesn’t. 

Eddie emerges from the bathroom whistling, a gray towel wrapped around his slender waist. You loll your head to look at him just long enough to catalogue his damp curls, his myriad of tattoos, the light dusting of hair between his pecs, and the even darker trail that descends from his belly button. His back turns to you as he saunters to his dresser. There’s a dagger tattooed between his shoulder blades. 

“Miss me?” he asks as he digs pajamas out of his drawer. 

When you don’t respond, he peeks over his shoulder. Your gaze is directed towards the ceiling.  

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” 

He hums. Your silence takes root beneath his skin and yields a certain self-consciousness. It wasn’t like you to be so disengaged. Not when it came to him. There was no denying his magnetism, even when he wasn’t actively trying to work the room. 

“Okay, what’s really going on?” Eddie walks to the side of the bed and stares down at you. “You’ve been acting funny all evening.” 

You push yourself upright, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. To buy yourself some time, you rub your eyes with your fists as if tiredness truly is to blame. There’s nowhere to hide when your hands inevitably drop back down to rest in your lap. Still, Eddie fails to get a read. 

“Talk to me, Goose.” He taps your chin with a gentle knuckle. “Is that gas station shit really bothering you that bad?” Eddie winces at his own irritation. “That came out wrong. Shit.” 

He takes a deep breath. “I honestly didn’t think it was that big of a deal. The guy had what was coming to him.”

“I care about you, is all,” you say. “Am I allowed to do that?” 

His eyes are apologetic as he looks down at you. “You’re allowed.” 

“No more secrets, right?” you say. “That’s what you promised.” 

Eddie nods slowly, unsure of where this conversation is headed. 

“That means we let each other in,” you continue. 

“You’re in, baby.” 

You bite your lower lip.

“I saw something earlier. Drawings of me that you’ve done.” 

“I sketch you all the time.” 

A few seconds pass before you bring yourself to speak again. “Not the sketches. The actual drawings. The detailed ones.” 

Eddie stills as if turned to alabaster. He looks away from you, but you don’t look away from him as silence permeates the air like a slow rising fog. Color rises in his cheeks, then the tips of his ears. If he doesn’t move, maybe he’ll wake up. Maybe he’ll disappear. A few seconds pass like an hour. The world begins turning again when you take his hand in yours, gently brushing over the back with your thumb. 

Reality fades back in slowly. His breaths, your breaths, his thick swallow. 

“They caught me off guard,” you admit. 

Like a severed branch, his hand falls away from yours. His Adam’s apple bobs as he considers what to say in the wake of embarrassment that toes the line of frustration. 

Eddie’s eyes find their way back to yours. “We’re going through each other’s things now?” 

“I was looking for film for your camera,” you explain. “Pictures fell out of the sketchbook, and when I went to put them back—” 

“They don’t mean anything.” His words are void of any conviction. 

You hold his gaze until his shoulders sag with the weight of the truth. “I’ve never had this, alright?” He makes a weak motion between the two of you. “Someone who makes me feel the way you do.” 

You nod for him to continue. 

“I think about you all the fucking time.” His voice comes out shy and gruff. “You’re beautiful.” 

“So they do mean something.”

“But now you probably just think they’re perverted when it’s not like that at all,” he accuses with a slight waver in his voice. You’ve never seen him quite like this. Frazzled in a raw, open way. “It’s the trust aspect—fuck, I’m not making any sense.” 

He runs his hands through his hair and paces a few steps away. You study the tattoos on his torso. Audentes Fortuna Iuvat is scripted just beneath his collarbones with a slight upwards curve; Latin for fortune favors the bold. A symmetrical, abstract pair of angel wings span beneath it. There’s also the small inverted crucifix on his sternum. The snake curled on the right side of his ribcage beneath his pecs. A considerable host of others have made a canvas out of his skin as well.  

“So help me understand,” you insist. 

You’re messing with him now. You have to be. This is his punishment for ever daring to put his pencil to the paper in that way. A few beats of silence pass.

“Are those things you wanna try?” you coax. 

He finally musters the courage to look at you again. “There’s so much I wanna try with you.” There’s a weighted look in his gaze, like the sentiments it bears stretch beyond this moment. “I wanna do life with you.” 

Warmth kindles in your chest at his words. “Well, here I am,” you say. “Gonna have to try harder to scare me away.” 

A humorless laugh escapes him, but it’s true. Here you are. 

“None of this was ever about the fight or the drawings, E,” you start. “It’s about you. I don’t want you to think you have to keep things from me.” 

You nearly fall into the depths of his eyes as they bore into yours. 

“I can’t mess this up too.” His voice comes out smaller than you’ve heard it. He wouldn’t make it to the other side of losing you.  

“It’s gonna take something terrible for that.” You think for a moment. “Like you cutting off all that gorgeous hair.” 

Eddie laughs. The sound coaxes you to your feet and over to him, where he cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. His breath catches in his throat when he feels your fingertips ghost along his waistline where the towel is secured. 

•••

Just relax. 

Those were the words you’d uttered to him a few short moments ago before you tugged his towel down and stripped yourself of your clothes. If anything, it was more like a purr. Something about that low, melodic tone always worked with him. Even when he was the one desperate to get his mouth and hands on you. He listened because you always handled him with care. Always made it good for him. 

The sound that leaves him now seems broken, but Eddie’s never felt more whole. His arms shake where they’re braced behind him on the bed, and his spread thighs tremble. You look up at him from your kneeling position on the carpet before him without pulling away from mouthing at the warm, velvety weight between his thighs that hang like two joint fruits. They draw up when you pay keen attention to one side, making a suctioning motion with your mouth that makes him curse beneath his breath. 

He curls forward with a pleasured groan when you take the entirety of his length into your mouth. The sweet drag of your lips, paired with the encompassing warmth, makes his head spin. You venture down halfway before drawing back up to suckle on the tip with a glimmer in your eyes. Eddie doesn’t get through his next shudder before your lips are descending again, this time all the way to where curly dark hair rests at his base. 

You can feel every vein and pulse along the way. His stomach quivers at the sight as something hot stirs low in his gut. 

One of his hands settles at the back of your head, but he doesn’t push or pull. It’s a grounding gesture. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you pull back up, taking your time. At the top, you lap over his slit, where another pearly bead has formed. He huffs out a ragged breath when you begin to place lingering kisses over the head, then allow your tongue to gently trace along the slightly raised edge that separates it from the rest of his shaft. 

A selfish part of him wants more. 

“Angel…” he sighs. 

You hum around him curiously when he’s back in your mouth. Eddie knows you’re trying to make him cave and guide you into what he wants. His fingers twitch with hesitance at first, but then he applies just enough pressure to encourage you back down. You’re gracious enough to fall into your own bobbing rhythm thereafter. 

His breath stutters when one of your hands dip between your thighs to begin rubbing easy circles over your bud as your mouth continues to work him like a dream. You clench around nothing as warmth and pleasure pool between your thighs. 

“That’s so hot,” he grouses. 

You pull off of him, saliva slinking between your lips and his arousal. “Is it?” you murmur coyly. 

He nods earnestly, eyes dark and cheeks flushed. What he’s not expecting is for you to sit back on your knees and redirect all your attention to yourself, bringing one hand up to cup your breast. Your cheeks warm at your own boldness. He’d seen you like this in his mind and on the page, but only you could bring the vision to life. There’s a pleasant rush to that sort of power. 

He kicks up towards his stomach when you release an airy hum as your middle finger drifts down to run along your entrance and collect the thick moisture gathered there. He scoots closer to the nightstand and grabs a condom from the drawer. Eddie strokes himself a few careful times, stopping before the tide can rise. You watch with shining eyes as he rips the foil open and slides the rubber down himself. 

“C’mere,” he rasps, repositioning fully onto the bed. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

You bite your lip as you gently probe your entrance, maintaining eye contact even as your face burns. “Think you do it better?” 

“You already know the answer.” There’s no overt cockiness in his tone. Just a steady sort of confidence that makes your stomach flutter. 

An invisible flip switches. No doubt, because he finally feels as though it’s allowed to. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but you feel the aftermath. It’s in the way he becomes firmer; he isn’t rough, but you can feel the strength behind his movements more than you usually do. It’s also in the way he lifts his head from your center when you’re mere seconds away from falling into thralls of something your entire body craves. 

You plead with your eyes as you meet his gaze, frustrated and desperate all the same. His lips upturn in a small smile that’s barely there. Your thighs fall open as he leans back down, and the fan of his breath makes you shiver. His mouth and fingers have already made you slick with arousal, only to leave you right on the edge. 

“Eddie, please.”

He gently parts you open and presses a gentle kiss to your clit before suckling it into his mouth. You whimper and cant your hips upwards into his face, but he moves away. 

“Easy,” he coos. 

You breathe an apology as he presses his middle finger to your swollen bud and circles it nice and slow. A whimper escapes you as you squirm, trying your best to keep your hips down. As maddening as it is, you like this little game. The challenge. If he maintains this same pressure and speeds up just so, you know it’d be enough to get you there. He knows that too. 

Everything hinges on his call. Eddie’s been at the helm even though he let you think you were for a time.

“Who does it better?” he asks. 

Your stomach flips. “You, Eddie—c’mon.” You huff an exasperated chuckle in spite of yourself. Eddie bites back a smile. Then your voice dips into a tone that’s impossibly sweet. It reminds him just how much he burns with desire himself. “Keep showing me how much better.” 

Eddie braces himself overtop of you and notches at your slick warmth. It takes a moment for him to gather himself, but when he does, he slips into you with ease. Each inch is welcomed with the same steady pressure, all the way until he’s buried entirely. 

While you hum at the fullness, he moans from being welcomed in so wholly. Even though you’re the one stretched to accommodate him, it’s him who needs a moment to get acclimated. It feels like he’s seconds away from falling apart, and he sure as hell isn’t ready to test the theory. 

When you circle your hips in a silent encouragement for him to move, he stills you with a steady hand. You make another attempt.  

“Angel, wait,” he weakly complains. It’s half desperate, half amused. 

“But I need you,” you murmur. 

That’s enough to spur him into an easy rhythm. Your mouth falls open, and he can’t help but run his thumb over your bottom lip. You surprise yourself when you poke your tongue out. Eddie takes a leap of faith and pushes it just past your lips. You close your mouth around it and give it a weak suck before he pulls it back out. 

As it turns out, life imitates art too.  

“You feel so good,” Eddie pants. “Taking me so well, aren’t you?” 

“Mhmm.”

His thrusts reach deeper when you hook your legs around him, eyes briefly scrunching closed as he meets that tender spot within you that threatens to make everything wound tight inside of you unravel. 

Your hands move to scratch down his back, and his hips stutter at the steady pressure of your nails. So you do it again, a little harder, and it sends a strong shiver through him that feels unfairly good. When your hands smooth back around to his chest, fingers grazing his nipples, he manages to gather your wrists in his hands and pin them above your head. Your chest pushes into his.  

“I’m close,” you breathe. “So full.” 

A groan rises in his throat. “Not until I say, alright?” 

Your whine borders on petulant, but you nod anyway. Eddie kisses you for it. First, on your lips, then he trails a few more sloppy, lazy kisses down your chin. When he pulls away, he lets go of your wrists and braces that forearm beside your head, breaths heavy. He’s so close, you can see the faint sun freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose. The grind of his pelvis against your clit makes you clench around him. 

Your breath hitches. “I’m gonna—”

“Not yet, angel,” he says, even as he lowers a hand between your bodies to rub that pulsing part of you with just the right amount of pressure as he continues his deep thrusts. It’s the furthest thing from fair, and he knows it.  

Your mind grows fuzzy with a sudden swell of pleasure that borders on panic. “Eddie, baby, I can’t,” you whimper. “You’re gonna make me come. Please—” 

“Go on, angel,” he soothes. The wave crashes. “That’s it, there you go.”

You close your mouth to stifle the helpless sound that rises up your throat as you arch beneath him. Immediately, you’re thrown into a suspended place where all you can feel is yourself fluttering around him in strong pulses as warmth floods your entire being, pulling him in. He guides you through it with gentle praises that barely register to your ears. 

With a guttural sound Eddie buries himself within your warmth and lets go, his abdomen flexing with each wave that shoots through him. As the radiating pleasure dwindles, he touches his forehead to yours, and your lips just barely brush as you catch your breaths. You raise your hands to his neck to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He shivers, then jolts with sensitivity as you shift beneath him.  

“Sorry,” you whisper. 

Eddie shakes his head. “You’re fine,” he breathes. “You’re perfect. Don’t deserve you.” 

“You’re gonna give me a complex,” you murmur. 

Eddie chuckles and grasps the base of himself to slowly pull out. The loss draws shuddering exhales out of both of you. He’s overcome by a surge of fondness and gratitude. 

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod as he dots a few kisses to your neck. “Hey, Eddie.” You cup his cheek to get his attention and he nearly melts at the content way you look up at him with slow, sleepy blinks. “Maybe next time you can tie me up.” A small smile plays on your lips, but you mean it. Even though the thought alone gives you wild butterflies. 

Eddie’s swallow doesn’t let on how dizzy the thought makes him. “Yeah?” 

You offer a tired hum. “I trust you.” That alone means everything. 

And with him, you wanted it all. 

-

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I promise I see them all!

EDDIE MASTERLIST 

ALL MASTERLISTS

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 15. Palpable sense experiences

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: angst and mild insanity

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— A/N: I'm back again, my dears! 🖤🖤🖤 Thank you for waiting for so long. This is a mostly contemplative chapter as our heroine spirals a bit further, with Feyd not helping matters at all 😂 I hope you enjoy it! Have a wonderful weekend! 😘💕✨

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs @mrsjobarnes

We have long known that the objects of our palpable sense experiences can be influenced by choice — both conscious choice and unconscious. — Mother Superior Taraza

By the time he woke up the next morning, Feyd was ready to pretend the whole previous day didn’t happen, and she was happy to allow it. He nestled in her arms as he slowly woke up, as he usually did, and purred and pawed at her and brushed his lips against her sweaty flesh while she ran the tips of her fingers down his back. The only hint of their fight from the day before was his affection, now more blatant and pleading, begging silently for reassurance. She wrapped both of her arms around him and held his torso in her hands like a jug of water, and kissed his forehead and cheekbones and lips. She thought that might calm him, but it only made him act more needy.

“You have to get up at some point,” she murmured as she laid kisses down his throat. “They’ll be looking for you.”

“Let them look,” Feyd grumbled.

“Don’t you have scouting parties to organise?”

“They can do that on their own.”

“They wouldn’t dare…”

Feyd sighed and mumbled but finally pulled himself away from her. Their skin stuck together for a moment, and they both shivered at the parting.

She helped him dress again and then sat in his lap while she freshened up the inking on his teeth. He grinned like a beast to allow her to work, but she found it oddly adorable that he looked more like a tamed animal. Her hand cupped his cheek, tilting his head this way and that while she brushed gentle strokes down his teeth with the other.

“There. All done.”

He grabbed her naked hips and brought her closer. “Now I get to dress you,” he purred.

“No, not today,” she said with a shake of her head. “I think I’ll stay in a little longer.”

“What? Why?” he frowned.

“I’d rather miss the early fuss, all those soldiers and servants milling about… I don’t think they like the sight of me.”

“I’ll tell them not to look if they want to keep their eyeballs.”

“I’m not sure that would help,” she chuckled. “Go on ahead. I’ll see you for lunch, if you like.”

He muttered something in Harkunnin but eased her off his lap and got up to sheath his daggers. She watched as he walked with long steps to the table and back to the door, and leaned against the rumpled sheets in a picture of lazy repose. Feyd left her quickly but not before taking another look at her, and she knew he enjoyed the sight of her nude body contrasted against the sheets before the guards closed the door behind him.

In fact, she’d stayed behind on purpose. She wanted his last sight of her to be something sultry and luxurious that day, one that would linger in his mind as he attended to his governatorial duties. It was meant to be in equal parts reward and punishment — and she knew he’d enjoy it.

She kept her word though and was already in the dining room at lunchtime when he got there. She’d spent her morning meditating and slowly getting dressed, but she wasn’t hungry. The heat took that away from her. Feyd, however, seemed ravenous when he set his eyes on her.

“You were in our bedroom all day?” he asked as he rushed to her in a sharp straight line like a predator. He had his arms around her waist before his question was out.

“Is it really our bedroom, or just yours?” she smiled, her hands sliding up his arms toward his elbows.

Feyd shrugged, seeming not to think there was much of a distinction. “I don’t mind sharing.”

She laughed. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“You want to know what I wish for?” said Feyd, tugging her toward him. His eyes trailed down her face and to the black-clothed shape of her.

“I know you want to eat,” she said, curling her fingers around his jaw and gently squeezing his cheeks.

“You’re not wrong,” purred the boy, brushing her body against his with the tightening of his arms around her. She could tell he wasn’t talking about food.

“I do too. I am famished.”

“Well, I’m flattered.”

“No, no,” she tutted, squeezing his cheeks a little harder and shaking his head. “I want real food.”

He glared at her and sighed but that’s what all his displeasure amounted to. Anyone else who teased him that way would’ve been dead ten times over. Don’t give in to pride, she thought to herself. You’re not safe yet.

And to his credit, he allowed her to eat. He ate as well, albeit not without sliding his gaze toward her every now and then. There was more spice in her dish this time, or at least it seemed so when her skin began to flash hot and cold the way it did whenever she took melange. It hardly seemed to affect Feyd — which she noticed in spite of pretending not to look at him at all. Playing coy was difficult, and he seemed even more upset with her than he was the day before when she’d been speaking of rebellion, but she knew it would pay off later.

“Do you want to come with me back to the command room?” he casually asked during one of the rare moments when his eyes avoided hers.

She felt the instinct to be suspicious of his request, but the way he fiddled with his fork, slouching in his seat, booted feet clearly swaying back and forth underneath the table, it made him seem so boyish and so vulnerable to her. She almost smiled.

“Am I welcome there?” she asked with a cocked brow.

“You are if you behave.”

“I’m not well-behaved,” she chuckled somewhat bitterly, thinking of the lost sisterhood of Bene Gesserits and how disappointed they would be if they could see her now. She was fast approaching a mental state in which she wasn’t disposed to obey anyone anymore, be it the sisterhood, or her Harkonnen captors, or him. “Just as you’re not well-behaved.”

“You’re being very free with your criticisms lately,” he growled, his knife hitting the plate a little hard. “First the treasonous rhetoric from yesterday, and now calling me —”

“Well you are a little brat, aren’t you?” she said, finally looking into his eyes, and holding his gaze.

His eyes widened — perhaps in surprise that she could guess what he was about to say, or perhaps in anger. She could see it in the little wrinkles that formed at the edges of his eyes, in the way his breathing quickened, and how still the air between them was. But just as she predicted, he played along with her. He always wanted to.

“I was under the impression that you were quite pleased with me.”

She smirked. “Just because you’re a naughty little boy doesn’t mean I am displeased. Sometimes, it’s quite the contrary.”

He leaned back and smiled, the tension in his body taking on another flavour. “So I take it you don’t want to come to the command room after lunch?”

“I’d rather see you this evening,” she said. “And I think I’ll take dinner in… our bedroom.”

But when, much later, no servants turned up with the food as evening came, she paced up and down and worried she might have overplayed her hand. Perhaps Feyd was more difficult to read than he’d let on, and was just good at pretending otherwise. Her powers of perception were not what they used to be since she’d started… serving him, and for all her meditations she could feel her skills were slipping. She had to get off that planet as soon as possible, but the more she brought it up, the less likely it was to happen. And now that Feyd had the Fremen within his sights he was not likely to let them go — not even to elope with her, as she’d suggested.

All these thoughts were increasing in speed and severity, like a wave crashing over her and pulling her deeper, down into a dark sea she’d never swum in before. She hadn’t been this frightened since she was first given away to the Sisterhood, and even those memories were too far and foggy to be sure… It isn’t fair, she thought to herself, anxiety turning into anger. It isn’t fair that I should always be given away, always left behind, always end up in the clutches of… of… psychopaths. She sighed and hugged herself, head tilting back to open up her airways. This way of thinking isn’t helpful, she told herself in an attempt to calm. Maybe I should just go out and look for him. Maybe something’s keeping him. Maybe something happened…

But just as she thought that, the doors behind her opened. Feyd walked in with two servants behind him, each carrying a covered plate.

“Put them right there,” he said, pointing to the table.

She stood to the side, watching this innocent procession and expecting something worse… But then the servants left, and Feyd walked over to her and took her in his arms.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, leaning forward to nuzzle her throat. “I’ve missed you.”

Slowly, she brought her hands up and wrapped them around him in something that attempted to be an embrace. “I did.”

“You look tired,” he said as he parted from her, looking down at her with a smile in his eyes. “I would’ve expected you to have more energy after doing nothing all day.”

“Is that a slight because I didn’t join you in the command room?”

He smirked down at her and let her go, then turned toward the table. “Well, why are you tired?” he asked.

She hugged herself again, feeling oddly cold without him. How strange… She hadn’t even been looking forward to his embrace, yet now that he left her she longed for it.

“Tired of living here, I suppose,” she answered without thinking.

Feyd didn’t even react in his usual petulant way. He merely chuckled and uncovered the plates of food.

“Sit down on the bed,” he said. “We’ll eat together.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She sat atop the soft black sheets and tucked her hands between her knees while Feyd took off the top part of his armour and the sheathed blades he kept at his hip all day. He was quite careful in bringing the food to her, starting with one plate, then another, then the glasses of water. She took that first and drank half of it in one go while he watched and smiled.

“Did the heat get to you today?” he asked as he scooped up a spoonful of red foam — a mix of oxblood and berries.

“Perhaps it has,” she sighed, not looking at him to spare herself the sight of his smug smile. The plates of food were between them, shining silver on the bed. She picked up a piece of roasted almonds, crushed and rolled up in a ball, spice sprinkled on top, and plopped it in her mouth. It calmed her almost instantly. “So, what did you do today?” she asked. “Did you attack?”

“The mentats are conducting an assessment on the most recent data.”

“And once they’re done?”

Feyd sighed and leaned back on the bed, his sharp elbows digging into the soft mattress. “If you want to talk strategy, come with me tomorrow. But I don’t want to talk about it now.”

She nodded. She could tell he’d been in a bad mood ever since he got back, but instead of being grateful that he’d kept his word and returned to her, she’d only been more irritated by his presence. But as she ate, her nerves began to calm and she could think with a degree of lucidity.

“I have missed you, you know.”

“Have you?” he asked with a cocked brow. “Or are you just saying that?”

“There’s no need to be cynical,” she said, taking another almond roll. “I already told you I don’t want to run away from you. I don’t know how you expect me to prove it.”

Feyd was quiet for a moment. She could hear him thinking. Almost fearfully, she looked at him from the corner of her eye and found his smooth brows creased in a tight frown. He must have noticed, because immediately his features were pulled up in a smile and that boyish twinkle returned to his eyes.

“Well… I guess I could think of a few ways,” he purred, his sleek body twisting on the bed until he could wrap his arms around her waist from behind.

“Oh, that would prove it?” she chuckled drily.

“Finish dinner,” he said, resting his head against her back. She wondered if he was trying to hear her heartbeat. “We don’t have to talk about this if it makes you unhappy.”

She looked back at him and cocked a brow.

“What?” he shrugged. “I like you better when you’re in high spirits.”

“Right… And you?”

“Oh, I’m not hungry.” And with that, he fell back onto the bed and stretched his limbs, looking more feline than ever.

He’s up to something, she realised, her thoughts more clear now than they had been all week. But it soon got swallowed up and washed away in that same tumultuous wave from earlier.

[jetii]

OC x Canon Masterlist

I was starting to confuse myself, so I figured I would create an OC masterlist to keep track of all of my brain children. This will serve as a collection of art, fics, and anything else related to my Star Wars OCs.

Back to Main Masterlist | Join the Taglist | Request Guidelines | Ko-Fi

Event Horizon

Goldie and the 419th Brigade are characters in my ongoing Rex x Reader longfic, Event Horizon. While the fic is still being written in second person, Goldie has become a character of her own.

Soma "Goldie" Anathorn (jedi master, she/her) Soma is a Jedi Master, Investigator, General, and former Padawan of Master Yaddle. She is known for her temper and fierce fighting abilities, and she's dedicated to getting justice for her master's untimely death by any means necessary. During the Clone Wars, Soma is assigned command of the 419th Brigade, a legion created for the purpose of disrupting Separatist presence in the far-flung corners of the galaxy. Event Horizon Masterlist

Commander Booker (clone commander, he/him) Booker is a 2nd-generation clone commander and Soma's second-in-command. Booker is considered to be the “face” of the 419th, his charismatic and easy-going demeanor making him the obvious choice for any engagement with civilians and Republic command. He’s a skilled martial artist who’s quick to fight with his hands and just as fast to befriend anyone willing. Concept Art | Reference Sheet

Chief Medic Wise (clone medic, he/him) Wise's sour attitude puts even his general to shame, but he's a damn good medic. Originally created to serve as medical support on Kamino, never to leave the ocean planet, Wise jumped at the opportunity to join the 419th after the Second Battle of Kamino. He's been regretting it ever since. Wise Reference Sheet

Captain Snap (clone captain, he/him) Snap was promoted to captain of the 419th's Maelstrom Company shortly after his first battle. He's used to being the mediator among the men, and he has a soft spot for music and children. Snap Reference Sheet

Trooper Dash (clone trooper, he/him) Dash is everyone's baby brother, and no one lets him forget it. He's determined to prove he's capable of excelling at anything he puts his mind to, including becoming Maelstrom Company's dedicated pilot. Dash Reference Sheet

Trooper Screwball (clone trooper, he/him) No one really knows who, or what, Screwball was before he became a member of Maelstrom Company. All they know is that this reckless heavy infantry trooper isn't one to be messed with. But his hot-and-cold demeanor belies a heart of gold and a dedication to protecting his brothers, and his general, at any cost. Screwball Reference Sheet

ARF Lieutenant Price (clone lieutenant, he/him) After the death of his squad on Duro, Lieutenant Price elected to join the 419th's Maelstrom Company. Despite his apparent lack of work ethic, he's proven himself to be a capable researcher and scout. Price Reference Sheet

Infinite Possibilities of the Universe

Zeilla "Sarad" Pillian (jedi knight, she/her) Sarad is a former Jedi Researcher and plant enthusiast who served alongside Clone Force 99 during the Clone Wars. Her unique ability to read the thoughts of others made her a valuable addition to the team until Order 66 lead to her disappearance and assumed death. A year later, Sarad and Tech have reunited on Pabu and are building a life together. Tech x Sarad Masterlist

Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Valeria "Vale" Ishani (senator, she/her) Senator Vale Ishani of the planet of Atrisia is a new member of the Galactic Senate and co-leader of the Senate Subcommittee on Planetary Funds. The daughter of a wealthy pharmaceutical magnate, Vale is no stranger to being in the public eye, though her affair with Commander Thorn of the Coruscant Guard is the one thing she’s determined to keep for herself. Thorn x Vale Masterlist

Good Graces

Esmerine Esmé Terel (handmaiden, she/her) Esmé has devoted her life in service of Padmé Amidala, wherever she may go. Plucked from the Naboo Special Forces Academy at a young age to become one of Queen Amidala's original handmaidens, Esmé is as much a soldier as she is a loyal friend. Good Graces Masterlist

[igot-the-juice]

Chapter 5

Pairing - General Armitage Hux x Reader

*Set prior to The Force Awakens*

Summary -

Forged in blood. Bound by duty. Broken by desire.

(Y/n) (L/n) is a deadly Umbral of the Covenant - an elite order of vampires sworn to the First Order. Her assignment: serve as General Hux's personal guard. But as buried secrets surface and a rogue vampire faction rises, (Y/n) is forced to confront a past she can't outrun - and feelings she was never meant to have.

In a war of blood, betrayal, and duty, the deadliest threat may be the one that lies still in her chest.

Series contains - Blood, violence, battles/war, betrayal/angst, eventual smut, slow burn

The two remained in the War Room as Varo and Phasma joined them soon after. A large tactical display hovered between them, showcasing the sectors suspected to harbor the rogue threat.

General Hux stood at the head of the table again, hands behind his back. To his right stood (Y/n), and on the opposite end of the table stood Phasma and Varo, their expressions focused, but the tension in the room was palpable.

“We have authorization to act. Now we need to figure out a way to track them down and find them.” The general began.

Phasma followed. “They’re ghosts,” she said flatly. “Not a single trace left behind. No footprints. No blood. Just bodies.”

“That’s the Covenant for you,” Varo muttered grimly. “They know how to vanish. And they’re using it.”

“Not just vanish.” (Y/n) added. “Each strike we’ve reviewed… they’re not looking to make a statement. They’re gathering something.”

Phasma tilted her head in question. “Intel?”

“Or resources.” She replied. “They’re choosing their targets too precisely. They know our protocols. Our rotations. What we have and where. Every time they attack, they raid the location.”

“Then we bait them.” Hux suggested. He stepped forward and gestured toward a flickering system on the map. “These three supply stations are within striking distance of the last known rogue activity. We plant the idea that one of them is carrying classified tech and leak the information through a Resistance channel we know they’ve intercepted in the past.”

Phasma hummed in thought. “Risky. But controlled. I can reroute stormtroopers for concealed perimeter placements.”

“I don’t want any engagement.” Hux ordered. “Observation only. Identify, record, and pull back. The moment we can confirm their identities, we strike with the Covenant’s backing.”

“We’ll need more than scouts, sir.” Varo warned. “These aren’t just any rogues. We engage with standard units, we lose more good soldiers.”

The general nodded in agreement. “Which is why you -” He looked at Varo. “- will be embedded in the region as a liaison. You’ll move freely between units and help direct operations. No one else has the experience to recognize them for what they are.”

(Y/n) shifted and offered a warning to Varo. “If they smell you, they’ll come out. If any of them knew you before they defected…”

Her gaze sharpened.

“They might want to carry out unfinished business.”

Varo’s expression was unreadable, but something cold flickered in his eyes.

“Then let them try.” He threatened indirectly. “I’m very persuasive when it comes to traitors.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.” (Y/n) replied simply.

Hux tapped the console, confirming the initial troop deployment orders.

“Begin rotating squads to the target sectors under routine drills. Make it look mundane.”

“They’ll never know we’re watching.” Phasma consoled him.

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Dead rogues or silence,” Varo started. ”Either way, we’ll bring order back to the Covenant.” 

Later on, as the night cycle began, the corridors with higher command personnel quarters were dimly lit, lights cycling to mimic planetary night. Most of the officers had retreated by this time. A hush blanketed the area, the kind of silence that only came during these artificial nights in the belly of a warship.

(Y/n) sat alone at a secluded alcove in the corridor, an architectural oddity tucked near the viewport wall. The viewport stretched tall and wide, revealing the swirling stars and the velvet void beyond. A built-in bench sat along one side of the wall next to the window, lit only by the glow of passing starlight.

She sat with one leg curled up beneath her, still dressed in her uniform but with the zipper of the bodysuit around her neck slightly undone for breathing room. A small blood pack, half-drained, rested beside her hip. Her datapad was forgotten in her lap, the screen dimmed. Her gaze was fixed on the stars, lost in quiet thought.

Her ears then honed in as she heard a set of footsteps further down the corridor. Measured. Familiar.

(Y/n) didn’t turn to look. She already knew who it was.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be awake in this sector.” The general commented in a quieter tone.

“Neither did I.”

There was a pause. Hux stood there, considering her. Not just the strange placement of her presence, but the rare image of her relaxed posture and unguarded expression.

“This isn’t regulation seating.” He pointed out. (Y/n) glanced over at him in a playful deadpan.

“Are you here to enforce it, General?”

He let out the faintest sound, almost a scoff. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped closer and took a seat beside her on the bench, maintaining a respectful space between them.

After a moment, the general began to speak again.

“This part of the ship was designed to house long-term High Command. They included comfort features… but few of us make time to use them.”

“It’s the only place I’ve found that doesn’t feel like war.” (Y/n) said in a more hushed tone.

A long silence fell between them. Outside the viewport, stars drifted past slowly, distant and indifferent.

The general hummed. “I find comfort in order.” (Y/n) tossed him a pointed look - as if to say ‘no, really?’ - and he clicked his tongue in minor annoyance. “It makes things… predictable. Safe.”

He paused.

(Y/n) turned her head slightly to look at him. “Why do you think it’s safe?”

He looked at her now, his expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I think predictability can keep a person alive. But it doesn’t protect you from harsh realities in life.”

The words hung between them for a moment too long.

“No… it doesn’t.” (Y/n) agreed softly.

She looked away again, fingers absently brushing her datapad.

“I thought I knew my people. What we stood for. What we bled for. But now I’m not so sure.”

“You’re referring to the rogues.”

“I’m referring to those I once trusted. Those who chose to spit on everything that kept us alive. After what the Resistance did to our kind… I can’t understand how they could turn their backs on the Covenant or First Order.”

Hux thought for a moment before he answered. “Pain doesn’t forge loyalty. Not for everyone. For some, it just festers… until all they want is to be the one holding the knife. And they won’t care who’s at the end of the blade.”

(Y/n) watched him closely now, seeing the way his jaw tensed as he said it. “You speak like someone who knows.”

“I do.” He answered flatly.

Silence again. But this time, it wasn’t cold. It was shared. Weighted, but equal.

After a beat, (Y/n) leaned back slightly against the wall, letting her head rest there as she stared up.

“I don’t regret joining the Covenant or becoming an Umbral. But some nights… I wonder who I would’ve been if I didn’t.” 

“You’d still be dangerous.” Hux quipped.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. Just a flicker. “And you’d still be impossible.”

“That almost counts as a compliment.” His lips twitched in a smirk.

Another moment of quiet. 

(Y/n)’s gaze was fixed on the stars outside, but her awareness was sharp. She could feel the  general’s presence beside her as if it were its own gravitational field. And he, for all his rigid posture and measured breathing, had not moved since sitting down.

The silence lingered, no longer heavy with unspoken thoughts, but… tentative. Curious.

“You seem more yourself.” Hux suddenly pointed out.

“I thought I was always myself.” She replied curiously.

“Yes, but… you’re more calm. Not as stiff. It’s refreshing… and it suits you.”

She glanced over at him, a single brow lifting. “Well, I do expect myself to know how to separate professionalism from personal matters, if that’s what you mean. I’m just careful with who sees what side.” She then turned to face him slightly. “How would you know what suits me?”

“I pay attention. You’re not the only observant one here.”

Her lips parted slightly as they stared at one another, but whatever retort she was about to make was lost when her knee brushed lightly against his.

She stilled immediately. So did he.

The touch had been accidental. Casual contact in the narrow space of the bench, but it sparked like static, subtle and unmistakable.

Neither of them moved away.

(Y/n) shifted her gaze back to the window, face unreadable save for the faint shift in her posture. Hux pretended to return to his datapad, his grip on it just a little too firm, his jaw set with a precision that was almost… performative.

“Apologies.” (Y/n) muttered.

“Unnecessary.”

She looked down at her hands. He tapped once on the datapad, but didn’t really read whatever was on the screen.

The silence returned. Not awkward, but charged. It buzzed faintly beneath their skin.

(Y/n), sensing the tension still in his posture, allowed herself a rare act of rebellion against her instincts. She shifted just a bit closer. Not enough to touch again. Just enough to make it noticeable.

And Hux noticed. But what he noticed even more was how she became even more tranquil after she had done so.

She didn’t look at him, and if it were possible, her cheeks would’ve been tinted. The corner of her mouth twitched faintly. Barely.

“It’s strange.” She spoke.

“What is?”

“Sitting still. Doing nothing. And yet… it doesn’t feel like a waste of time.”

He studied her carefully now. “It isn’t.”

Another moment passed. A pause not meant to be filled.

And then Hux stood, smooth and precise as usual. But the movement was slower. He tucked his datapad under one arm, glancing down at her with something unreadable in his gaze.

“It’s late.”

“So is everything on this ship.” She jested.

He allowed the corner of his mouth to lift, just a ghost of a smile, and then turned.

But just before he stepped away, he hesitated.

“I’ll expect you in my office at 0600.”

“Of course.”

“Bring tea.”

She blinked.

(Y/n), feigning seriousness, replied. “Blood or sugar?”

He glanced at her, a faint glint in his eye. Amused. Surprised.

“Surprise me.”

And with that, he disappeared down the corridor, boots silent on the floor.

Left alone again, (Y/n) stared out at the stars.

Her body still remembered the brief brush of contact. And her expression softened with something akin to warmth.

The next morning, General Hux was already at his desk, filtering through whatever came in while he was asleep. He didn’t look up immediately when the door slid open with a soft hiss.

(Y/n) stepped in, punctual to the second. In one hand she carried a thermal cup. In the other, a sealed blood pack.

She approached the desk and placed the cup neatly within his reach.

“Surprise.” She greeted flatly.

Hux raised his eyes. His gaze flicked between the items. Then his brow lifted, barely.

“You brought both.”

“I like to cover contingencies… that and I’m starving.” She added as she twisted the cap and began to drink from it, the cool liquid easing down her throat.

He regarded her for a long moment, then reached for the cup. Steam rose from it as he took a measured sip.

“Sugar.” He hummed. “You didn’t risk the blood. Wise.”

“I need my commanding officer awake, not disgusted.”

He smirked faintly at that, a rare expression, short-lived but genuine. (Y/n) caught it but didn’t comment.

For the first time since she’d been there, she moved to the small seat across from his desk without his direction, posture straight with her legs crossed. Despite the cold formality of the room, the air between them was… different. Not quite relaxed, but no longer so distant.

He reviewed a few lines on the datapad before speaking again.

“I assume your quarters are adequate? I don’t believe I’ve ever asked.”

(Y/n) replied with a faint tilt of her head.

“Functional and familiar.”

“That’s what passes for comfort around here.”

“I don’t require comfort.” She teased before taking another sip.

“No. But everyone benefits from a moment to breathe in an acceptable environment.”

She blinked at that, ever so slightly surprised.

“Is that what last night was?” She smirked. 

He looked up at her then, the full weight of his focus falling on her face. “Possibly.”

Something passed between them again. Unspoken. Subtle. 

Then, like the snap of a soldier returning to attention, he set the datapad down and stood, brushing a hand down the front of his coat.

“Come. We’re expected on the bridge. I need to have updates on Resistance activity by 0700.”

She stood smoothly, falling into step beside him after tossing the now empty blood pack.

As they moved towards the door, (Y/n) offered an afterthought. 

“Next time, I think I’ll bring both in a thermal. Tea for you, blood for me. Haven’t had it warm in a while.”

Hux glanced sideways at her. “Efficient.”

A beat.

“Thoughtful.” He added, though quieter.

The door hissed open and they stepped into the corridor in perfect contrast, moving in precise sync.

The bridge of the Finalizer was quiet in its efficiency, cloaked in the bluish-gray tones of early cycle operations. Terminals glowed softly, crew members moved with practiced rhythm, and the stars beyond the viewport were distant and still.

General Hux stood at the front, hands clasped behind his back as he analyzed data from one of the terminals. (Y/n) stood beside him, arms crossed as her eyes scanned the bridge with deliberate calmness. She was close enough to intervene if needed, yet never encroaching on his command space.

A lieutenant approached first, offering a crisp nod before handing Hux a tablet. “General, update from outpost Delta-Four. Last contact was at 0300. No response since then and no distress call was sent.”

Hux read it with a furrowed brow. “Similar to Sector Eight last week.”

“Yes, sir. Final transmission mentioned movement along the outer edge of a debris cluster. Then silence.”

“No signs of conflict?”

“None. It’s clean.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed. “They’re getting bolder.” He handed the tablet back to the lieutenant and turned back towards the terminal to key in a command. Facing the bridge again, a map of the outer sectors materialized in a wash of pale blue light. Red indicators blinked in a triangular pattern.

“Have long-range scans pulled from the Starbreaker Array. Cross-reference radiation trails, shield fluctuations. Any anomalies, no matter how faint.”

The officer gave a quick nod. “Yes, General.”

(Y/n)’s gaze flicked briefly to the glowing display, then back towards the junior officers bustling quietly. 

Another officer approached. A younger systems technician with smudged gloves and a nervous gait. “General��� we detected an attempted intercept on last night’s dispatch to Command. It failed, but whoever it was, it wasn’t Resistance-grade slicing.”

Hux’s hands tightened behind him. “I want the source tracked, triangulated, and dissected. Every data spike, every digital pulse logged. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The technician nearly tripped backing away. (Y/n) didn’t react, though her eyes flicked to Hux subtly, noting the flare of tension in his expression.

He exhaled slowly before the doors to the bridge slid open with a sharp hiss.

Captain Phasma entered first, tall and commanding in her chrome armor. Her pace was deliberate, each step punctuated by the soft thud of metal boots on deck plating. Varo followed at her side, his usual grin exchanged for a more focused expression. When he spotted (Y/n) already at Hux’s side, his brow lifted in silent greeting.

Hux turned as they approached “Phasma. Drenn,” he greeted. His eyes flicked to (Y/n), then back to the others. “You’re just in time. We have a developing situation.”

(Y/n) gave a small nod in response to Varo’s glance. 

Hux stepped back slightly and gestured towards the holomap still displayed. “We may be looking at a coordinated infiltration effort. Unknown parties. Skilled and precise. Possibly something more than the Resistance. This may be one of our only chances to intercept and identify them.” The general nodded his head in the direction of the doors to the bridge and walked, the group following him.

The doors to the bridge hissed open, then sealed shut again as General Hux led them down the corridor. (Y/n) walked beside him as while Varo and Phasma flanked from behind.

No words were exchanged on the walk. The tension from the short briefing still lingered in the air like static. Tightly wound, waiting for direction.

Once inside Hux’s office, the door sealed behind them with a low thrum. Hux moved to behind his desk, bringing up the latest holomap which crackled to life in front of them.

“This is where they’re projected to hit next,” Hux said without preamble, pointing to a small, seemingly insignificant relay station nestled between two inactive mining sectors. “It’s remote. Understaffed. A low-profile target. Perfect for remaining unseen.”

“And exactly what we’d expect them to go for if they’re testing our blind spots.” Phasma chimed in.

“We’ve tracked fragments of their signal spikes converging here,” Hux continued, zooming in on the relay’s coordinates. “Encrypted communications, faint enough to be overlooked if you weren’t already looking for them. But there’s a pattern.”

Varo squinted at the holomap. “It’s a bait station. Easy to infiltrate, but also easy to ambush from. If someone knew how.”

Hux’s eyes flicked towards him. “Which is why we’re going to beat them to it.” He turned slightly, addressing all three of them. “We’ll deploy a stealth team, small and silent. We observe first. Identify who they are. Confirm if this is the same force behind the outpost vanishings.”

(Y/n) stepped forward slightly, her voice level. “And if it is?”

“Then we’ll respond accordingly,” Hux said coldly. “And we won’t miss.”

Phasma nodded. “I’ll have a squad outfitted for cloaked transport and scout support. The relay can be secured quietly, with minimal presence.”

Hux tapped his fingers against his desk. “No standard stormtroopers. It’ll be too obvious.”

He turned his gaze to Varo. “I want you in position ahead of the operation. You’ll be our eyes on the ground. Blend in with the relay crew if needed. Keep comms silent unless contact is made.”

Varo gave a sharp nod. “Understood.” He folded his arms across his chest. “So we’re playing shadow games now. I always preferred being the knife in the dark over the hammer at the gate.”

“Then consider this a return to form,” Hux replied dryly, before turning back to the holomap.

A brief silence followed as each of them absorbed the mission’s stakes. Then Hux looked to (Y/n) once more, his gaze thoughtful beneath the commander’s mask.

“Umbral (L/n) and myself will have visual from here on the bridge while the operation is active. Anyone who is on ground will have a surveillance system so we can track what they are seeing and have more eyes identifying who we’re dealing with should anything happen.” Everyone nodded before the holomap disappeared. “If we’re going off of their typical patterns, the mission will be set during tomorrow’s night cycle. Phasma and Drenn, I want you to coordinate with intelligence and logistics to formulate a plan. Dismissed.”

Phasma offered a curt nod and exited with precise efficiency. Varo lingered just long enough to exchange a glance with (Y/n), a small, wordless assurance before following.

The door slid shut, leaving only the soft hum of the overhead lights and the distant thrum of the ship’s engines. General Hux remained standing, unmoving as he observed the remaining Umbral.

Her gaze was distant, as if she was looking at something far beyond the walls of the office.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Hux said without looking up.

(Y/n) blinked, shifting slightly. “Apologies, sir. I didn’t mean to appear distracted.”

“You didn’t,” he said simply, finally glancing over at her. “You appear unsettled.”

Her mask didn’t crack, not fully. But something in her eyes softened. A hesitation.

“I’m fine,” she said, too quickly.

Hux’s brow lifted ever so slightly. “Umbral?” The formality in her title made her glance at him sharply, until she realized he was watching her not with scrutiny, but something bordering on concern. Her posture eased by a hair’s breadth.

She exhaled quietly through her nose. “It’s Umbral Drenn.”

“Ah.”

“He’s the only person I have left,” she said slowly, as if peeling the words out of herself. “We’ve fought, bled, trained… Endured everything together. And now I’m stuck here. Watching him walk into a threat we still don’t fully understand.”

She didn’t pace. She didn’t fidget. But her stillness was heavy, dense with emotion she rarely permitted to surface.

“I’ve lost too much already,” she added softly. “If I lose him too…”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

Hux studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, but far from cold. He stepped away and moved towards the viewport behind his desk.

“I understand more than you think,” he said after a pause. “The burden of command is not just strategy and protocol. It’s the slow erosion of everyone who made you feel human.”

She looked at him then, some part of her surprised.

He didn’t meet her gaze, but his voice was steady.

“You will remain here,” he continued. “You’ll watch the feed with me. If anything happens to Drenn, you’ll know before anyone else does.”

(Y/n) blinked once, unsure how to respond to the weight of his words.

“Thank you,” she said finally, quieter than usual.

He turned to her now, his expression still composed, but his eyes… there was something else there.  

Their eyes held for a second too long, just long enough for something to pass between them.

Then Hux turned back to his desk. The Umbral stood for a moment in thought, and for the first time in years, she found herself fidgeting slightly. 

-

The lights were dimmed in the corridors, the stars outside scattered like frost across a black pane. The two Umbrals stood side by side, simply looking out at the galaxy before them in the same alcove (Y/n) had sat in with Hux.

(Y/n)’s arms were crossed, a subtle tension in her frame. She said nothing for a while, watching the distant shimmer of a nebula bleeding color into the void. Varo stood beside her, his usually relaxed posture tempered by a rare stillness.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally, his voice lower than usual.

(Y/n) didn’t glance his way. “So are you.”

A small chuckle escaped him. “Fair enough.”

They lingered in silence a moment longer.

“Do you ever think about what we signed up for?” (Y/n) asked. Her voice wasn’t cold. It carried the weight of something old, something uncertain. “What it cost us?”

Varo nodded slowly. “All the time. Just… not usually out loud.”

Now she glanced at him. “Tonight feels different.”

“It does,” he agreed, looking out at the stars again. “Walking into something none of us fully understand. And just… watching. Not fighting. It feels wrong.”

She nodded. “I know.”

His gaze flicked over to her, reading the steel behind her voice. But then it softened, and he tilted his head towards her slightly. “You think we did the right thing, choosing the path we did as Umbrals? All of this?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Her silence wasn’t uncertain. She was simply searching for truth.

“It was the only path that gave us purpose,” she said finally. “And if this faction turns out to be what we fear, then it’s our duty to stop them. No matter who they were to us.”

Varo was quiet again, but then nudged her shoulder gently. “Still. I’m glad I’m not doing this without you.”

(Y/n) looked up at him, a faint trace of a smile pulling at the edge of her mouth. “Likewise.”

For a few moments, they stood in comfortable silence again. Then Varo exhaled, brushing his hand through his hair and casting her a sideways glance.

“You know,” he added with a small smirk, “if I die tomorrow, I want you to avenge me with dramatic flair. Really make a scene. Rip someone’s spine out or something.”

She rolled her eyes, smirk deepening. “I’ll consider it.”

“Seriously,” he pressed, grinning now. “Cry. Wail. Maybe swear vengeance in front of a flaming backdrop.”

“I’ll pencil it in,” she said flatly, but there was warmth in her tone.

The weight of the night didn’t vanish, but it lessened between them. Whatever tomorrow brought, they wouldn’t face it alone. Even if apart.

[13thpythagoras]

pointing out our good mother Earth's axis doesn't sit 90 degrees from our orbit around the sun, it's on a 23.5 degree tilt:

this tilt is what causes the seasons summer and winter, to occur in our temperate regions. It's what causes 24 daylight at summer solstice in polar regions and 24 hour night. Why does our planet have this tilt?

Imagine if you will, a planet 10 times the size of earth, passing about 8x the distance of the moon away, and it's on a weird orbit not totally aligned with ours.

This megaplanet would have knocked us off our 90-degree perpendicular axis and spun that tilt proportionally to its own orbit. Would be interesting to see a CGI rendering of this interaction.

(so fun having these thoughts, like as science discovers why ancient people had those weird stories, talk of Nibiru and Planet X, as I tongue in cheekly call it, but science calls this "Planet 9" formally just PSA for those hoping to do easy research independently, which I always encourage; indeed I go light on providing links just to keep formatting easy, understanding it's more important to spell and name things correctly to best facilitate the independent research of the reader, my intent is always to ask questions that lead to many more questions, I shy away from questions that lead to fewer questions)

Indeed given the strong likelihood that planet X is on a 26,000 year orbit of chaos, super elongated and whatnot, that means it was last here literally 13,000 years ago, almost to the millennium.

That means it is at is orbital maximum distance from the sun! It's basically standing there motionless like Regan's dead body

This is literally the only time when we have a chance to push planet 9, or Nibiru, or planet X, into the next neighboring star system where there's only one planet with the potential for liquid water and it's tidally locked to a red dwarf star prone to atmosphere-destroying superflares; needless to say I can conclude we will be saving lives and our grandchildren and our friends' grandchildren and our cats and dogs grandkittens and grandpuppies, and the whales, and the mushrooms, and everything, is what we defend when we make the moral highground claim that we have license and duty to eject planet 9 from our solar system once and for all, this is an extremely, profoundly unique and rare time in the history our our universe, where we have a species coming into awareness of its biggest existential threat collectively, and gaining the ability to engage in collective planetary defense. Sorry proxima centauri B! We will seek to provide scouts, and potentially if life is found, Noah's arks for Proxima centauri B's life, and give that life its own planet here in our safer solar system, free of planet 9 / planet X / Nibiru's existential threats. Wish I was kidding but I'm grateful the internet allows quick communication. What a time to be alive. And I am grateful for the bravery of anyone else willing to look at this problem with me...what a weird topic to have to research.

But just to think, as advanced as any earth civilization ever got, they never beat planet 9

I'm talking about Babylon, Egypt, Mu, Lemuria, Atlantis, all them, the Venutians, the Martians, the sentient dinosaurs that became spacefaring lizardpeople; everyone and anyone who's ever been anything in our solar system's history has FAILED thus far to defeat planet 9, and thus they have FAILED to protect us from a totally existential ongoing threat.

Strategy talk! *7 year old raises hand* Could we also just push Planet 9 into Jupiter? like a direct hit?"

I just would see that as not guaranteed to work- Jupiter is a gaseous planet, and planet 9 is potentially a rocky one; there is a strong likelihood that planet X / planet 9 would pass through Jupiter completely unharmed, maybe just leaving a new red spot. I wouldn't see it as guaranteed at all that Jupiter could just swallow up Planet X like a garbage disposal. And if there was a rocky collision of planet X with another rocky body in our solar system that is exactly the problem we're desperately looking to avoid. This would, almost needless to say, create an explosion of epic proportions of rock and would shower down buge meteors and asteroids onto our planet.

A bold claim for generational self awareness points

we are the only generation / few generations of human beings within a 40,000 year window who have any chance to defeat the chaos king, or planet X

#IRL lore

my math holds that this chaos king planet is at a gravitational apex, meaning its furthest distance from the sun, right now.

Once it gets up to ramming speed, there will barely be any chance to redirect its course much less defend ourselves from the asteroid monsoon.

We are the only ones with the opportunity to push and nudge and shove this guy into orbit with another star, somehow, and get it off our backs, while its at its momentum-minimum on a 24,000 year cycle

This 24,000 year cycle will claim us too if we don't, so it's just self-awareness

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

Hi I would love to see more of Yandere clone wars , maybe more about Barriss’s and (F/N)’s relationship if not maybe F/N relationship with other cast (if that’s ok of course hope your doing ok 💗)

So, I did some, hope their alright, if you want to know about some other character be sure to tell me

Also, had this in my drafts forgotten so I don't really know how well written this is, still hope you can enjoy

Barriss

So their relationship before the clones going yandere was pretty similar to Ashoka's, they were friends, although (F/N) wasn't in the ship where the whole zombie worms fiasco went down, which was very good since Nakild's would actually be an optimal host since they can resist almost freezing temperatures better than most.

But after the whole clones went yandere, (F/N) was able to escape coruscant not long after escaping the clones since a certain weequay who turned a blind eye to them stowing away in their ship.

It was when the ship arrived at Illum that (F/N) left the ship knowing that the ship wouldn't be safe for long, it was here where they both found each other, Barriss was trying to go underground after Anakin was captured.

(I'm telling you, the man didn't last much before falling for the trap)

They both teamed up in selling the ship Barriss had come in and managed to get another one but smaller, one which was overlooked in many planetary sensors.

After this they began to wander the galaxy, avoiding any place clones may be in and working some bounty jobs, they quickly got themselves some armor so that their identity wouldn't be discovered as easily.

But the small problem is that both the empire and clones are hunting down any and all force sensitives, so on top of having to dodge everyone after their heads, they also help smuggle force-sensitive kids away, in fact, they've almost been captured multiple times but if it wasn't for the clones considering their safety a bigger priority, they've let them escape instead of risking their capture by the empire.

Barriss and (F/N) are in a sort of relationship, both have been dancing around each other for years but both understand that each other's feelings are reciprocated, they just never seem to have actual time to talk about it, it's more of a silent agreement.

I will go deeper into this in future updates.

The lucky squad

So, during the war (F/N) wasn't really a commander since that was Cody's position and Obi Wan didn't think it would be a good idea to give them such a position so early on.

Instead, they were assigned a scouting squad, being in charge of them and dealing with reconnaissance missions mostly, but there have been time they were sent to the other side of the battlefield due to their small size.

But for this to work they had to trust each other with their lives, something that developed fairly quickly, their friendship quickly developed and when I tell you the reader cried when they chose their names.

Their names are in order of who got theirs first.

Carp

Carp is the eyes in the sky of the group, he also doubles as the sniper, he has two sets of scales painted on the back side of his armor, the bigger ones as that of a carp and they are closer to his legs while the smaller one representing the reader's are closer to the head and in the area where the heart is.

Red

The leader of the squad just after the reader, he is the glue of the group, and alongside Carp was the first to get close to the reader

Acorn

He chose this name because he actually likes eating those at almost any time and while his old squadmates had taken to calling him squirrel it had never truly fit him so he changed it

Rabbit

He actually has a rabbit's foot tattooed on his left arm, it was the first animal he killed when the squad was cut off from the rest of the GAR on a planet for a while

Clover

The last to choose his name, he is the most reserved of the group and was the last to open up to the reader, he only chose his name after they got rescued from the planet they had been stranded on.

The group was very tight during the whole war, but after a while they all developed feelings for each other, the reader was troubled by the power imbalance and worried these feelings would cloud their judgment, they had planned to get some counseling on what to do after the war, but was never able to due to the clones going yandere and them needing to escape.

Anakin

Even if the reader met him many times since Obi-Wan and Anakin are almost always stationed together, the reader never paid him much attention, and while Ashoka and the reader both would always bicker about who was the best master it never turned into anything but teasing.

But there was always something that almost repelled the reader a sort of putridness that made (F/N) never feel completely at ease with him.

Obi Wan

The reader's master, he was always there to guide (F/N) on the right direction, when the reader got to annoyed and blocked themselves he would come up with some sort of constructive criticism and help the reader figure things out.

He is more than a friend and is someone the reader trusts completely.

Ashoka

Both were crechemates and attached to the hip, you never saw one without the other unless they were up to something, when they were both assigned to a master both were ecstatic and promised each other that they would comm each other daily.

During the war they weren't able to talk daily of course but they would talk as much as possible when they were both together they once again became attached to the hip.

When Ashoka lost her flying squad it took a great hit on their relationship and it never fully healed, while the reader didn't blame Ashoka they were never comfortable leaving the lives of their squad in her hands, and even after the clones went yandere the reader still didn't trust Ashoka with other's lives.

Cody

The reader saw Cody as a second mentor, while he never intervened in any lesson he would add some comments and always offer to spar with the reader.

He was someone who the reader went to many times for company, when things became to much, they would both simply sit together, say nothing but always keep each other company.

[reidecorating]

Venus & the Sun

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

A/N: I felt compelled to write this because the thought of Spence hating mornings keeps me up - which then causes me to also hate mornings because I’m tired, it truly is a tragic cycle. also! here’s my masterlist!

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Dragging a grumpy & sleepy Spencer out to a picnic on the water where the view was far more than he bargained for

Warnings: Early mornings A tiny bit suggestive, but predominantly just fluff galore <3

Whether Venus is named the Morning or Evening Star depends on what side of the sun it indwells. When the planet glistens and gleams from the eastern sky, it’s a telltale sign it’ll rise before the sun - namely becoming the Morning Star. If Spencer had it his way, he would not be awake before midday on a Saturday morning. If Spencer had it his way, he would continue to snore for some while longer, dreaming - visions of a maladaptive cottage in the Swiss Alps, a handful of mountain goats sprinkled about tufts of unmown alpine grass - certainly not giving a second thought towards planetary placements of a cosmos he never wished to be part of. But Spencer did not have it his way this morning. 

She always called Spencer her sun, but he believed that if this were to be true, she was his Venus; arising from the left side of his bed, sparkling and lighting up the world, most mornings, before he had even opened his eyes. The way in which she looked at him made him believe that the ancient Romans had been right about a deity of Venus, a goddess of love and beauty, his proof being the woman by his side. After wheedling him out of the comfort of rumpled sheets, with saccharine kisses and promises of more, at six o’clock, on the dot, she swept him away in a direction he recognised as towards the pier. It was the last place he would go in his free time, but because he was with her, he didn’t mind. As they journeyed on foot towards the sea, missing the growl of the car radiator, it became noticeable how winter lingered in the air, chasing joggers and haunting places where the daylight was yet to reach, as if it had unfinished business even Spring couldn’t prevent it from completing. 

Spencer felt no remorse towards anyone he hurt in the mornings. The time he spent existing, before half a litre of caffeine was sent down to his kidneys for filtration, angered him. She knew it, too. Always giving him space as he grumbled, with furrowed brows, at anything that moves, often resorting to giggling quietly and observing his shenanigans from a distance - usually involving a wrestle with a hot jug. As they walked, his fingers found the spaces between hers, grasping firmly to prevent the crisp air from streaming through to their bones. She chuckled at the tender action contrasting his expression. “What?” He scowled humorously. “Oh, nothing,” she suppressed a smile. The scowl turned confused. “You’re just very adorable, even when you despise me,” she teased. “I don’t despise you, I actually love you very much,” the sentence rolled off his tongue like a statistic, “I despise being awake.” At that, a grin broke across her face. “In fact, I think that being awake at this hour should be criminalised, I’ll pass the bill myself,”

“Good luck getting a representative to sponsor that bill, Doctor President,”

“I work for the government. I have connections,” 

“And they say this democracy isn’t corrupt,” she grimaced, only partly joking. She saw his laughter in a huff of foggy breath at her comment. “Anyway, when was the last time you had a proper breakfast?” She asked. Spencer thought about it for a moment. Yesterday, if espresso and inhaling air particles counts, he thought. “That… is a… trick question, pretty lady.” The corners of his mouth twitched from behind where his coat collar stood upturned, sufficing in the absence of a scarf, knowing that any answer he provided wouldn’t impress her. Without response, she just held his hand impossibly tighter, walking the tiniest bit quicker.

An unwieldily wicker basket dangled from his fingers, knuckles blue from the early air while they continued on their stroll along the promenade. “You can dismantle the patriarchy another day, Y/N. Please let me carry this for you,” Spencer had asked, insisting she carried the picnic blanket instead. Prevailing winds raced to hide within the drapes of his trench-coat, hiking it outwards behind him in the dramatic way it might if he were on a runway. Over the phone line, she would tell him, “Careful, you may be tempted to leave the BAU if you get scouted by Prada,” whenever she knew he was sat in a budget-meeting hotel room in Los Angeles or New York, wrestling with chopsticks and a container of cold noodles and undoubtedly working a case after hours. Never did he believe her, always taking her flattery with a grain of salt. “Absolutely not. For Givenchy though, I definitely might consider it.” She recalled his response. He acutely remembered the way she’d laughed on the other line, yearning to be the reason she did, forever. Admiring her lover, she struggled to comprehend how everyone in the world didn’t see the same things she saw. He had a beautiful soul. That’s what shone through every crack in his skin. 

Brine toothed sea mist had corroded bolts on the wharf over time, the slight stench of rusted metal taking their nostrils time to adjust to. She began laying down the thick flannel sheet over the dewy wood, careful as to not fall over the edge. “Now, I know you prefer sunsets, but trust me, after today you will change your mind,” she chirped, patting down the blanket. Spencer thought he preferred being alone, she changed his mind on that also, and so, he trusted her words unapologetically. “I’m sure of it,” he beamed at her, placing the basket down with a soft thud before cracking his, now, nearly transparent knuckles. “You look like you’re freezing!” She half whispered and half yelled, rushing to take his hands, cupping his much larger ones in hers and puffing out warm breaths of air in order to thaw his joints. After all, the jacket around her shoulders was one that belonged to him, it was the least she could do. Shaking his head at her actions, completely enamoured by the way she fiddled with his fingers to provide some friction, he turned to glance at the hills in the distance, the night falling and stars dissolving into day, like granules of sugar in hot tea. He looked back at her, catching her eyes, already gazing up at him. “I sense you’re about to tell me something I don’t know about sunrises,” she tilted her head. “Close,” he nodded, grin wider than the horizon before them, “I was going to tell you about Venus.” Pointing at the remaining speck of glitter in the sky, he wrapped an arm around her. “The ancient Greeks and Egyptians actually believed that Venus was two separate celestial bodies. A morning star, which the Greeks called Phosphoros, ‘the bringer of light’, and an evening star, Hesperos, ‘the star of the evening’. It wasn’t until a few hundred years later, that they realised that Venus was actually a single planet.” She nodded along, absorbing the new information before cupping his jaw in her palms to feel his lips between her own. “What was that for?” Spencer giggled after pulling away, not opposed to the action. “Just proving to the goddess of beauty and love that I do, very much, love a beautiful person.” The dawn breaking illuminated the rose flush on Spencer’s cheeks. “Fun fact, it’s actually the hottest planet in our solar system. Kind of…” he swallowed looking down at his shoes for a brief moment, “kind of reminds me of you,” he smirked, still an amateur to the skill they call flirting. Shaking her head at him, flustered, she sat down on the sheet motioning for him to take a seat beside her, before unpacking the basket. 

A small fishing boat coursed through the water, its hull parting the ocean from Atlantic to symmetrical fountain streams, which were immediately pinned back into place, the way a cobalt fabric cut by the scissors of a seamstress would fall to her worktable. Sitting cross legged above the water, Spencer, from a large flask, poured two much needed cups of coffee, the bright pink ’S’ decorating his one making him raise a brow. She handed him a spread bagel, topped with fluorescent streaks of smoked salmon and cracks of pepper, on a small wooden chopping board, heart fluttering at how his jaw dropped slightly in excitement. “It’s Philly Cream Cheese, by the way, I know you love dairy but I made sure this didn’t have any in it anyway.” A soft smile settled on his lips. “Thank you,” he expressed his gratitude, “for all of this,” he clarified, as he finished chopping up various stone fruit into a woven basket. “Don’t mention it. I just wanted to spend more hours of the day with you,”

“That’s very sweet, but I see exactly what you’re doing. I hope you don’t expect that this’ll get me up at this hour every weekend,” 

“Mhm,” a smug look made its way onto her face, “You already know I have other ways of getting you up early on Saturdays,”

“Oh? Okay, was that a-“ he had on an incredulous look, “I’m going to hold you to that,” he chewed down on his lip. She raised her eyebrows at his words. 

“Cheers,” she held up her cup for a toast. “Cheers,” Spencer repeated, the soft clink of metal sounding over the crows of gulls overhead. They huddled into each other, watching the vibrance of sunlight meld together like dyes on an artists’s unwashed watercolour palette. Needless to say, she was not at all disappointed when the star of the morning finally disappeared, because a sky full of them could be found in the eyes of the man she called hers, and as he turned to face her, before his hand settled in her hair and apricot flavoured tongue reached her lips, she saw it, for a moment.

[rogueonestan]

moments

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

word count: 2k

synopsis: din returns to the Crest one afternoon to a signt he did not expect (snacktime for day 6 of mandoctober)

masterlist

Traveling around the galaxy with your clan of three has been a long and excruciating journey, whether it’s other bounty hunters or sympathizers of the Empire consistently tracking you down, you’re always grateful for the small moments. Moments where you feel like you can stop and breathe. And not have to worry about whether or not you’ll live to see the next day. You’re always grateful that every now and again you’re able to unwind temporarily by exploring a small speck of the galaxy, like making quick trips to marketplaces. 

While the Crest was in hyperspace, you noticed that you guys were beginning to run low on supplies, suggesting to your partner that you should make a quick supply run sometime soon. Taking you up on your offer, the Crest jumps out of hyperspace, entering a planetary system with little to no lifeforms; the only lifeforms being found were clustered together in one tiny area, presumably the only town found on the planet.

When you finally landed on the outskirts of one of the planet’s towns, you could immediately see the beauty the planet has to offer. Jumping out of your chair, you rush towards the hull of the ship and press the button that releases the hatch. Seeing the hatch slowly descending to the ground, you gasp in awe at what the planet has to offer with the biggest smile plastered on your face. There’s not much as only trees surround you, but the sight makes your heart skip a beat. You’ve been used to landing on desert planets or planets that were taken over by the Empire, always planets that never intrigued you, but the view of this planet is truly something else; it feels like home.

You know you will probably never settle down on a planet like this due to your busy and demanding lifestyle, but dreaming about a simple life on a serene planet like this one makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” You hear a teasing voice suddenly appear from right behind you. 

Turning around, you see the two other members of your clan standing behind you. Din already has his pulse rifle secured to his back while your adoptive son quietly lurks behind. The smile on your face is replaced with a sly smirk, “aren’t you? Look at this place! It’s beautiful!” You gesture to your surroundings as the big smile on your face comes back, “don’t you want a break?” “Yes, of course,” you hear him take in a deep modulated sigh, “just remember, cyar’ika, to never-”

“‘Never let your guard down.’ Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve told me dozens of times.”

“You can never be too careful.” He reiterates. The smile on your face never fades but only gradually increases as Din shows how much he cares for you. 

You make a noncommittal noise, turning around to head towards the marketplace when a tight grasp around your wrist prohibits you from doing so. You’re about to question your partner what he was doing when he places one of his blasters in your hand, tilting his helmet to the side.

Embarrassed, you glance down at the floor, putting the blaster in the holster you’re already donning. Looking down at the floor, you see your owl-eyed son looking up at you with his smile replicating the one that’s on your face, “whoops.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. You can tell Din is not amused. You already know that he’s already on edge by being on this planet. Even on peaceful planets like this one, Din’s always on edge and always scouting for potential threats. Knowing this, you decide to not push him any further, “let’s go.” You say as you begin walking in the direction of the marketplace.

With your arm looped around his, Din escorts you around the marketplace with the child’s pram following right behind you. You’ve been able to stock up on basic supplies you’ve been in dire need of: med packs, extra food and canteens of water for emergencies, and equipment for the Crest. While roaming around the collection of shops, the smile on your face has never left since you entered the planet’s system. You don’t know what it is about this place, but it makes you feel at home, safe. 

Every so often, you’ll point something out to him with the biggest smile on your face, so giddy at the fact that you can be free and not have a care in the world. It’s a luxurious feeling you haven’t felt in rotations and you hope that Din feels the same way. You may not be able to see it, but you know it brings Din joy to see you this content. 

You’re currently showing a trinket to Din from one of the stands when his body suddenly tenses up, his grip around your arm immediately tightening. You can feel his gloved hand slowly beginning to lose its grip on your forearm. 

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly says he’ll meet you back at the Crest. 

Taking that as your cue to leave, you put down the trinket that was in your hand and slowly begin walking in the direction of the Crest, not wanting to add any unnecessary towards you or the child. With the cart of your purchases and the child’s pram following behind you, the first feeling of worry overcomes your body since you landed on this planet. When you first arrived, you thought for sure nothing bad would happen to your clan of three, but Din’s sudden departure changes your mind. 

You enter the special code that Din created for you and open the hatch of the Crest. Once you’re able to safely get inside, you close the hatch, immediately engaging security protocols. You open up the child’s pram and see him so happy to see you. Smiling softly, you take him out of his pram and gently put him on the ground, where he begins to trot towards your purchases. His little arms try to grab one of the boxes but he’s far too small to reach it. His vain attempt makes your nerves slowly begin to dissipate. Rather than focusing on how you’re feeling internally, you decide to distract yourself in your favorite way: by spending time with your son. 

You’re not sure of how long Din has been gone, but your child always knows how to get you out of your head. You know that whatever threat Din sensed, he can do it on his own, but it never makes it easier when he’s out there alone. Thoughts of worrying over Din, possibly even losing him, begin to plague your mind. The child begins to tug on the end of your pants, trying to regain your attention once again. You shake the negative thoughts from your head and see his ears slowly lowering when he sees the smile on your face is now replaced with a slight frown. 

Uncrossing your legs and standing up, you pick up your son from the ground and hold him tightly in the crook of your arm. Lightly bouncing him up and down in your arms, you try to boost your morale by another distraction, by enjoying some of the food you bought earlier in the afternoon. Opening one of your purchases with your free hand, you’re able to find some of the food you purchased at one of the stands. One of the desserts you bought gains the attention of the baby in your arms, a series of giggles immediately filling up the silent air, and you feel some of the weight lifting off of your shoulders. 

You walk towards the dining area in the Crest, when in reality it’s really just a few boxes stacked on top of each other, and you carefully place the child on top of one of the ‘seats.’ Resuming the same position as you had before, you sit directly in front of your son and begin to open the dessert. 

You both take turns in sharing the delicious snack. Chocolate is smeared all over both of your lips, but at the moment you don’t care. All you can think about is how fortunate you are to have small moments like these. It isn’t much, but it’s home. Laughter fills the air. Huge smiles are plastered over your faces. You’re about to feed your child another piece of the snack when suddenly the hatch door to the Crest opens. The child immediately jumps off from the boxes and begins to waddle towards his father figure, who laughs in return at the ridiculousness of his son. When he returned back to the ship, the last thing Din would’ve expected was to hear rumbles of laughter and his son’s face covered in chocolate.

“Well, what do we have here?” You hear Din ask as he bends down and takes his child into his arms. Once his child is secure in his arms, Din makes his way over to you, where you’re looking down at the clasped hands in your lap. This behavior from you is quite unusual. Usually when Din gets back to the Crest, both you and the child excitedly greet him back. Something he loves and cherishes. Not you sulking in a corner. 

When he finally closes the distance between the two of you, placing the kid where he was sitting previously, then kneeling next to your side. Using his gloved index finger, he gently lifts your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with him. A small glint of shame lingers in your eyes and you can hear a modulated laugh come from your Mandalorian.

You open and shut your mouth multiple times like a fish, thinking of an excuse to explain your child-like behavior, but alas, nothing comes to mind. 

“I think you have more chocolate on you than the baby.” Din teases you. 

“Well, he is older than me”

“Not by much.” Scoffing, you playfully nudge your shoulder into his. The look of shame that once was on your face was now replaced with a small smile. You love moments like these. 

You support yourself off of the ground by putting your weight onto one arm, “I don’t like being made fun of.” Lightly kicking his leg, you begin to walk towards the ladder that leads to the upper level of the Crest when you feel a grip around your ankle. 

“‘m sorry, cyar’ika. Come back to me.” He pleads lightheartedly. He knows he doesn’t have to try hard to convince you to stay. 

Humming with faux contemplation, you lightly sigh, a habit you’ve developed since you’ve been around Din, “I don’t know. You’re being a bully.” 

“Just- come back to me. It won’t happen again.” His hand leaves your ankle as he reaches up to grasp your wrist that’s hanging at your side. Gently tugging on it, he begs you to rejoin him back on the floor. 

Sighing in a very dramatic manner, you slowly rejoin your partner back on the floor, where he immediately pulls you towards his side. Your body begins to relax once you’re back in your lover’s arms. With Din by your side is where you’ve always felt safest. Resting your head against his shoulder, the feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back lures you to an even more relaxed state. The last thing you hear before you drift off are the distant cooing noises from your son and the sweet nothings your lover is whispering in your ear. 

[missmadjicthestoryteller]

I Love the Way You Live: Rey x Reader

Summary: You’re entranced by Rey’s mechanical knowledge on D’Qar, and she in return is flattered.

Characters: Rey x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k words

Warnings: mentions of a slight injury.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this piece!

Feedback is always welcome and is appreciated if you choose to give it! 

The rolling hills and mountainous valleys were laden with fog in every direction. You didn’t know where to go or who to see next as the Resistance was gearing up for more patrol missions to the Base - Starkiller Base. You’d dreaded the mention of the name of such a horrendous planet. After all, it was capable of destroying other systems! There was, without a doubt, uncertainty among the crowd of Resistance fighters surrounding you. Leia wore her outfit of choice in General attire, fulfilling the “Leader” role nicely, but you knew of her royal past, and her regality was still shining at times. You watched her carefully calculate movements and map data on the star charts day after day, but today seemed different - she was meandering around the base and patrolling different carts of items to be loaded onto transport ships for other areas in need of the resources. 

“Leia, are you alright?” 

You came up beside her quickly and efficiently. 

“Yes, but I have a bad feeling.”

“When do you not?” 

A voice came up behind you, and you sneered at the overly-sarcastic pilot - Poe. 

“Poe, Leia’s not doing well, and you're not helping,” you told him, sticking your tongue out at him in defiance of his words. Leia looked between the both of you, uncertain of what to say next or where to go.

“Can you both take care of the base here if I travel to Rugosa? I know it’s been a long while from the last time I’ve left the base, but we received word from our planetary scouts that, given Rugosa is the nearest planet, resources are dwindling for our patrols.”

“We will. I promise, Leia.”

You hit Poe lightly on the shoulder, and he scoffed at you. 

“I’ll have you know, if it was down to me or you, I’d be in charge.” 

“Quiet, Dameron, she asked both of us.” 

“Fine, fine!” 

Poe put his hands up in the air defensively before walking away. Leia then turned to you with a small smile turning the corners of her mouth upward ever-so-slightly. 

“I’d like for you to go to the docking bay and help load these crates onto the ship. Can you do that for me, please?”

“Of course, Leia,” you responded, and she pulled you in for a hug.

“Poe would think it's tough luck I asked you, but he suggested it earlier.”

“He did?”

“He regards you, highly, if it is any consolation.”

Her voice was warm and comforting as she spoke, allowing you to gain a sense of relief. 

“Trust me, Leia, it is. For what it’s worth, it is. Can you thank him for me?”

“Of course,” Leia expressed, and you smiled at her before she continued, “and I will have a team prepped with you in order to make sure the materials get onto the ship correctly.”

“Thank you, Leia.”

“You’re welcome.” 

You kindly thanked her for allowing you to gain some perspective in helping out, and as you left your post beside her, you made your way near one of the transport ships docked on the ground. 

“How many crates do we need, Poe?” 

Poe had come up beside you to help as a few pilots aided him in carrying the crates inside. 

“It says here,” he began as he checked the datapad, “we need to send them at least 10 crates full of food. Leia will take care of the politics, but we’ll help her with the materials.”

“Agreed,” you told him, nodding. 

You watched him move out of the way as one of the pilots, Snap, greeted him.

“Poe, we have the food.”

“Thanks, Snap, that’ll come in handy. Can you load it in?” Poe asked, turning to you for confirmation.

“Sure thing,” you told him.

Grabbing one of the crates and letting it hover over the ground slightly, you attempted to pull it up inside of the ship, but it got lodged in the ramp’s frame where it would bend to retract inward. 

“Hey, Poe I-”

“Here, I’ve got it,” Poe said, pushing the other end.

“No Poe, if you do that, you’ll push me backwards,” you tried to tell him, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“Okay, almost, and-” 

All at once the weight sent you flying backward into the ship’s main hallway, and you landed with a thud on your head. 

“Oh! Are you alright?” 

A higher voice came to your aid as the back of your head began to throb, and you silently wished you could meet the owner of the voice in better circumstances as she came into view. Her hair was tied in 3 ornate buns, and her attire was neither Resistance pilot nor assist to Leia like yours. She seemed new, as you realized when looking into her eyes, you had not seen her here before. Her eyes were brown, you noticed, but what caught your attention most of all, was the way her voice matched her facial expression. Her face was twisted into a pained appearance as she had rushed to your side quickly to check on you. She looked you up and down, examining you in a way, and you stared at her as best you could as she did so. 

“I’m… okay,” you managed to whisper, but the throbbing in your head hurt you. “My head just hurts now.” 

You tried laughing it off in a way, smiling if that offered consolation to her, but she still seemed worried. 

“You fell hard,” she spoke softly, and as if instinctually, she tried to place her hand where you held your head. It stung at her skin touching your scalp, but what worried you was the crimson color on her fingers as she pulled them away. Blood. 

“Oh… that’s not good.”

You let the panic show in your voice, which would explain not only the throbbing, but the sudden fatigue and why your body felt weak moments ago. It had all happened so fast, you’d become unable to register these sudden changes. 

“Hey, Poe?” 

You weakly called out to him and he came running up the ramp as if he knew something was wrong. Given his assumptions were answered correctly, he looked between the two of you, and slightly chuckled.

“Poe, this isn’t funny, I’m hurt!” 

“I know, I know, but I didn’t think I’d live to see the day where you need someone’s help.”

“You’re going to need someone’s help if you don’t stay quiet and get me supplies,” you told him, and he then silenced himself. As much as the both of you bantered, it was friendly and familial in nature, but you knew that he knew you meant what you said. You didn’t like feeling picked on, and he knew sometimes his sarcasm could be misinterpreted.

“Can you get me some supplies, please?” The girl asked, looking to Poe and slightly smiling. “Anything can help, but bandages if you have them.”

“I’ll check with the General, I’ll be right back,” he said, running down the ramp and out into the open to meet with Leia. 

“I’m sorry you’re hurt,” the girl said. 

She spoke softly and gently, and you were thankful she hadn’t just left you where you lay - she genuinely seemed to want to help. 

“It’s okay, sometimes things like this happen with Poe and I. It wouldn’t be the first time,” you commented, and she opened her mouth slightly.

“Oh… do you two know one another?” 

“Yes, but it isn’t anything romantic. He’s my best friend, and I owe him my life for saving me before I arrived here.”

You tried to move, get up, or do anything to get out of the slump with where you were laying, but the girl stopped you suddenly. 

“Hey, don’t move, you’ll hurt yourself further.”

“You don’t seem like someone with medical knowledge…” 

You were ashamed the comment had left your mouth when you saw her furrow her brows. 

“I don’t know much, but I know I can help take care of an injury. Years on Jakku taught me how,” she admitted, and you looked into her eyes as she looked at the floor. 

“You’re not from here?”

“No. I recently arrived, and I’m glad I did.”

You thought you were dreaming when her eyes met yours as she spared you no expense in her admittance of her joy. It was written all through her gaze if it wasn’t already plainly aware from her facial expression. 

“What were you doing on this ship?”

“I had a… feeling to come here,” she stated, looking back into the main compartment with the pilot’s controls. Having fallen in the main hallway, you’d landed right outside the control room where she must have previously been standing. 

“A feeling?” 

You couldn’t help the intrigue lacing your tone as you asked her the question. 

“I get them sometimes,” she told you, as you smiled at her in a sense of bewilderment. 

“Did you get a feeling I would fall right before I did?” 

“No, not quite… It doesn’t always work like that,” she chuckled lightly and that made you smile in hearing her voice returning to a more lighthearted tone. You were happy you could feel relaxed in her presence, as it was much different than you’d felt earlier in the morning. 

“Well, thank you for helping me.”

“The way I see it, I’m glad I was here. If I hadn’t been fixing the hyperdrive, I would not have been able to help.”

“The hyperdrive?” 

Your voice rose an octave as you placed emphasis on your bewilderment. 

“The hyperdrive was damaged. It’s a good thing I came when I did, or you would have been stuck here without a way to leave the planet.” 

“You fixed the hyperdrive?” 

“Life on Jakku, it wasn’t always easy, but I managed to learn how to scavenge.” 

Her admittance fell on deaf ears as her words went in one and out the other to you, as you still pondered how a young woman like herself could have made it this far in the galaxy with living on such a barren planet. 

“As I said, something inside me told me to come here. I’m happy it did… I love the way you all live, and I hope I can learn more from you all moving forward.” 

“When I get better, if Poe ever comes back, can you teach me a thing or two about mechanics? It’s amazing how you knew to fix it.” 

You were surprised by the courage of asking the question, having only known her for less than an hour, but the kindness she was displaying to you made you know you could trust her instantaneously. 

“I would love that,” she told you, and you smiled. 

“Hey! I’m back, I’m back.” Poe was breathless as he ran into the ship and nearly tripped over the compartment he’d pushed inside. 

“Good, I was worried,” you snickered at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Here, it’s some bacta-spray. It should clean up the wound within the hour.”

Poe noted this as he handed the girl the vial of liquid with a small dispenser to spray it with. 

“Thanks, Poe,” you said to him, and he nodded as he looked back to you, winking when the girl hadn’t noticed. 

You rolled your eyes at him that time, until the girl looked at you with a slightly uncomfortable expression.  

“This will hurt,” she said to you as she looked behind your head to assess your wounds once more. 

“It’s okay, I can take it.”

You tilted your head to the side to give her better access to the wound, and you couldn’t help the flinching your muscles did as she began to spray the liquid. It stung, but the pain ebbed and flowed once she’d finished. 

“There, that should help.”

“Thank you… I’m sorry, I never asked for your name.”

“I’m Rey,” she said enthusiastically. 

“Rey, it’s nice to meet you. Although I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“I’m glad to have met you, too, given the circumstances.” 

“Without you, I would have been a goner if I’d let Poe take care of me.”

“He seems nice,” Rey said, and smiled larger as she noticed you scoff. 

“He is kind, and he is nice, but sometimes he doesn’t get his head out of the cockpit.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“Tell me about it,” you said, rolling your eyes and smiling.

“As I said, I love the way you all live, banter and all. Thank you for welcoming me here,” Rey told you, and you looked at her in all seriousness as you replied, “You’re welcome, Rey. I’m happy I met you, and we’ll always welcome you here. Always.” 

[annisir-kaugan]

Report: Origins and Operation of Triglavian Society Annisir Kaugan - Third Eye Analytics.

The first interesting thing about the Triglavians is their language. It is not an exact language, meaning many of the terms they use have no one definition. They use cultural idioms in a contextual way, phrases can have different, but related, meanings depending on the context of the sentence. The 'Flow of Vyraj', which is used a lot, refers to the passage of time, but this can be in terms of a project plan, the course of events or even, as fate wills it. 'Poshlost' generally means bad or unsavoury and its opposite, 'Sobernost' means good, or good for the majority. Understanding this is key to understanding the Triglavians and people seem to miss this because its not a normal usage of language. It is worth spending time with their language, either the data streams, or other example that are scattered around, simply to gain an appreciation of their culture.

The other area that people get confused with is the organisation of Triglavian society, when in reality, although complex in some ways it is actually very simple. There are three main Clades, Perun, Veles and Svarog, each has a number of sub-clades and so far only a few of these are known. For the most part these are made up of Narodnya and all the pilots of vessels encountered are Narodnya. Again its a general term, they call capsuleers 'Augmented Foreign Narodnya' and Sansha 'Hivelinked Foreign Narodnya' for example. Each Clade appears to have a number of Koschoi and Navka associated with them, from various models there is a simple reason for this and it will become clear.

The term 'Struggle' is used a lot, while there have been various theories it is actually, again, very simple. Triglavian society is an extreme meritocracy, rank within society is entirely based on 'Proving', whether in technical arguments or combat they always compete and trial everything. An individual Narodnya begins life with a base level of rank in society, throughout their life every qualification, contest, successful project or failure adjusts this ranking. The Triglavians speak of 'Glorification' and 'Mortification', which were confusing at first. 'Extirpation' refers to destruction or death. 'Glorification' simply means an upward adjustment in ranking, and 'Mortification' a downward one. This is the 'Struggle' of which they speak. In one case an entire sub-clade was given Mortification because their ship design did not come up to specification and fell short in proving.

It suggests there are upper and lower limits to rankings too. The point is that those reaching the ultimate rank become Koschoi, and those dying in the attempt or reaching the lowest rank become Navka. Which is why the Koschoi and Navka make up the Convocation of Triglav Outside the Struggle; they are not in it, they have either won or lost. Explaining the Koschoi and Navka is complicated to say the least and will be followed up later. Every clade and sub-clade have their own, because they belonged to them before becoming as they are, but the Koschoi and Navka can also act independently of the clades; both have been shown to be operating as 'Detached' from time to time. This too has implications that will be revealed in due course.

In order to explain this it is necessary to go right back to the very beginning of New Eden, to the first settlers in the cluster. At first is appears not much is known about these times, but a lot can be inferred. Analysis of human DNA has shown that all the inhabitants of New Eden belonged to the same species which originated on a single planet some two hundred thousand years ago. Many of the animals and plants we see are not native to New Eden, but were imported around the same time as human settlement took place. Countless archaeological studies have found no trace of any predecessors which would show that they evolved on planets in the cluster. Astronomers have been studying space around New Eden for centuries, in particular the Eve Gate, Which was a natural wormhole that formed fifteen thousand years ago and was open for around 75 years before collapsing into a singularity. This data complies with the findings of archaeologists on all the settled worlds.

There were three main clusters of activity; the Amarrian and Minmatar home systems and the system shared by the Caldari and Gallente. Outside of these there were a handful of smaller colonies and these groups were almost pilot studies. Pioneers to test the soil, lay down the infrastructure for terraforming and habitation as well as surveying the planet. They were not really prepared to operate without support, unlike the Jove, who fared much better after the gate's collapse. The two groups that really stand out are the Talocan and the Yan Jung, for different reasons.

"The Yan Jung nation immigrated into our world through the EVE Gate aeons ago. From where, we do not know, though the fragments of texts we've managed to translate talk about a mysterious middle kingdom. They settled here in Deltole, though we suspect they also colonized other systems, even in far off places. But what we've uncovered so far is here in the Deltole system, especially on Deltole V and VI, which seem to have been much more inhabitable back then."

– Sebast Mathon, Professor of Archaeology, University of Caille

The Yan Jung are an oddity. The majority of the early settlers were unprepared, they were not, they left few traces but the Hidden Path site in Deltole is odd. An Ancient Gargoyle Statue guards the site, although defunct now and a beacon lights up the system. Their artefacts are found throughout space, notably, from a Triglavian point of view, texts on Semiotic Theory, Singularities and Trigonometric Laws. Although they apparently were only around for a millennia or so they seem to have been masters of ancient technologies that New Eden science still cannot match. Rather than being simple settlers they could have been fugitives escaping to the newly discovered space, but there is another option.

The second oddball group are the Talocan. Unusually they did not settle anywhere, but rather roamed as nomads or lived in space, another connection to the Triglavian way of life perhaps. They seem to have left only one site in New Eden, the Devils Dig in Otitoh, now heavily over run with Rogue Drones to the extent all archaeological research has had to stop. This may be deliberate. One interesting feature of the site is the Sun Reader, a black monolith, similar to others found elsewhere in New Eden, which may also be Talocan artefacts. These seem to contain solar data, of some form, which points to them being some kind of observational device. Its is possible they formed some kind of distributed network in the manner used by astronomers today, several devices creating a much larger device when working in unison. Even more intriguing is the possibility that the network is still operable and the Triglavians accessed it to determine which systems to target.

There are numerous ancient relics scattered throughout the cluster, black monoliths, ancient stargates and even odd rift like features. The Amarrians expanded into space by reverse engineering an old stargate, and the technological principles are still not fully understood. In the same way the original Minmatar expansion was via an ancient acceleration gate. If the black monoliths are Talocan in origin, then did they also build the other structures in space?

The Jove were better prepared, setting in the Utopia system in the Heaven constellation. Since the Jove moved out there have been numerous archaeological surveys of the area. Ice core and soil samples show that they spent a long time adjusting the climate and seeding the ground before establishing colonies. It seems likely that they used automated systems and kept the vast majority of their personnel in cryostasis until the planetary installations had sufficient resources. This may have been as long as a millennia in some cases. Further studies have shown that the first Jovian expansion did not really develop until the third millennium, which has implications to be discussed further on.

Nothing is known of what lies beyond the Eve Gate, although it is certain that New Eden was colonised by the inhabitants of that space. Exhaustive DNA studies have shown that everyone in the cluster originally came from a single species originating on the same planet. Minor mutations concomitant with space travel and living in space show they had been in space for some millennia prior to the Eve Gate. We can infer a lot from the behaviour of groups within New Eden, everyone is essentially running on the same underlying code. It would have been a place of Empires, Corporations and factions in a similar form to those established in New Eden. It seems to be a natural development in human society. Colonising a new space is a difficult task, but with great possibilities; the first steps have been taken already in the Anoikis systems and they are relatively easy to access. New Eden was virgin territory. The original crews had to scout and survey and be followed by teams to build the star gates. That meant mining and refining resources, and all done in space, massive industrial ships must have been used, on a scale we only really see with the World Arks, Anchorages, and perhaps the rumoured City ship being built by Thukker.

They would have needed the technology to move across vast distances without cynos, some advanced form of jump drive or wormhole generating system maybe. Sansha, Drifters, Triglavians, the Jove themselves and maybe even Rogue Drones now, have shown something like the abilities required. Whether they developed it themselves, or found the necessary information in some ancient cache is not known. While the Empires of New Eden build star gates and know how to set them up it is still a massively complicated process, the original Amarrian gate required sending ships out using cryosleep chambers. The incoming crews from beyond the gate managed to push lines of stargates deep into the cluster in just a few decades. This raises some interesting questions and possibilities.

The other side of the gate could have been contested, but there are actually quite a mix of different groups in the original settlers, so that may well not be the case. The engineering group should therefore be a representative mix as well, from those factions with an interest. They are not another race, or nation, but almost certainly something like a corporation or other entity, composed of members of the existing nations. It is not known how the gate failed, certainly echoes of the collapse are still heading out into space but it does not seem normal. The gate appeared to be a wormhole of huge size, which is interesting. Gates are formed by the conjunction of points of gravitational resonance, in simple terms. New Eden has a propensity for forming wormholes now but did not at one time. When two systems get close enough on the right path, that can trigger the formation of a hole. For something this size it would mean another cluster or a galaxy moving into the right position relative to New Eden for it to form. Normally that kind of movement is slow, in terms of galactic time, which means the lifespan of the hole can be very long. The mass limit too, given its size but there is a possible way around it. Mass Entanglers are used to increase the mass of a ship for the purpose of rolling holes, better than the old Higgs device. An array of Entanglers, much as we see with the Triglavian Solar Harvester could be used to pull the hole apart, compensating for mass entering it. There might need to be an array on both sides, but there is no way of knowing, this kind of engineering is beyond the capacities of most groups in New Eden.

The question is did one of the groups in the original settlement phase sabotage the gate? Preventing a massive influx of settlers coming to plunder the resources, and maybe giving their allies a better chance of success? It is a distinct possibility, some of the ancient stargates are badly damaged, but others are not, they have been deactivated and rendered useless, which implies deliberate sabotage. If somebody rigged the mass entanglers to reverse polarity then that could collapse the hole, but the array on the other side would work against it, resulting in the singularity that exists now. The same for the stargates, it is as though a deliberate attempt was made to stop the early colonies being able to support each other or receive any assistance. That is curious in itself, as is the behaviour of the Talocan and Yan Jung. Perhaps they decided humanity needed a second chance, to work out a better way to live rather than simply plundering the resources of this new space.

Archaeologists often use the term cultures and it frequently gets misinterpreted by people from outside the profession. All the inhabitants of New Eden belong to the same culture, there are racial differences but in fundamental terms everyone speaks the same language and follows the same basic ways of doing things. Prior to meeting the Amarrians and Udorians were distinct cultures, but they lost their individuality not long after. In a similar way the Talocan, Yan Jung and even the Jovian, from Sleeper artefacts, are obviously from the same basic culture. The labels given them come from the Jove, but they may not be entirely accurate or show the true picture. Given the hypothetical existence of an engineering team that facilitated the early migrations it makes good sense that the Talocan and Yan Jung were a part of this. The Talocan appears to be based in space, the engineers, scouts and surveyors, while the Yan Jung fit into the role of scientists and theoreticians. The planetary settlements of the Yan Jung being research bases, and perhaps food producing areas or for the production of other planetary materials. They both disappeared from New Eden, possibly around the same time, maybe fourteen thousand years ago. The Talocan reappear, in Anoikis, occasional wrecked ships and quarantine zones around ruined Talocan structures, something certainly went on and to discover what requires a reworking of the established position. It is impossible to say if Yan Jung went with them, or were somehow taken over or absorbed. This appears to coincide with the Jove becoming more active which indicates the Talocan group wanting to avoid them in order to let the new colonies flourish uncontaminated

Anoikis is a cluster of systems, possibly located in a region of dark matter or energy, or a region of intensely folded space, it has some extremely unusual characteristics. Assuming that the Talocan used the network of black monoliths as a wide area observatory, then this should have piqued their interest. How they travelled there is unknown, but they must have, and spent some considerable time there preparing their plans. Presumably using the same kind of technology that was used to set up the original gate network but it may have taken longer due to distances involved. They seem to have had a much more intimate understanding of the way space operates than anyone in New Eden possesses today. The New Eden cluster consists of 5431 systems, 230 of which are in Jovian space and inaccessible and there are 2603 known systems in the Anoikis cluster; the true extent of Abyssal space is unknown at present.

Many people see the system of wormhole connections between New Eden and Anoikis as randomly occurring, this is simply untrue. Anoikis has a definite structure and while the formation of connections may seem random it does, in fact, operate according to a comprehensive set of rules. There are 30 Regions and 310 Constellations, these directly affect the class of system and also the connections that will open up between them, and also New Eden. This might be due to the way the data is represented, rather than an actual physical map, no such map exists so it is a convenient way of looking at things. All of the Region 30 systems are class 6, for example and that pattern follows for all the other regions. This suggests that there is something highly unusual about both the underlying structure of space and the matter-energy balance of the cluster. Most unusual indeed.

The Talocan must have spent some considerable time there. Exploring and mapping the area offered challenges not found in New Eden and chances are that meant modifying their technology. From events in New Eden much later on it is suspected that some of the precursor technology was based on Isogen-5, an allotropic form of Isogen, connected in some way to the formation of blue stars. It is highly volatile, as evidenced by these later events, Isogen-10, used by the Triglavians is a much more stable form. It does not, as far as anyone knows, appear in Anoikis, meaning that the Talocan may well have had to find alternative materials. ~

Oddly the materials and blueprints for making tech III ships all come from Anoikis , so are a sign of Talocan adapting to the new environment. Which means that the Talocan wrecked ships spotted in Anoikis and New Eden are more than likely not their original ship forms, but developed later on. This is an interesting pointer. For one thing it does point to an extended time in the Anoikis cluster. They also must have taken the construction and mining vessels. There are a large number of ruined Talocan sites around, some of which are co-sited with Sleeper sites, probably the origin of the Jovian-Triglavian satellite polity mentioned in one of the data streams.

The Talocan built a complex network of structures known as Epicenters, which are vitally important. Each contains Talocan static gates and violent wormholes, impassable by any means available. There are similar wormholes in the Drifter systems, but more on those later. Thera formed the heart of this network, and still functions in that respect, although possibly in a different way. It is a unique system and may have been artificially engineered, in itself a prodigious feat of stellar engineering and beyond the capabilities of anyone today. There are twenty-five small ship systems, known as Class 13, these only form small connections that will only pass frigates, or some specially engineered ships. In addition a further seventy-five systems also contain Epicenters.

The operation of this network is unknown, although there are a number of possibilities. This gave the Talocan one hundred and one systems to explore and operate in. It could have been fixed, Thera acting as a hub and the Epicentre static gates and what are now violent wormholes connecting to other systems in the net. The Drifter systems also contain strange wormholes that do not seem navigable but may once have connected. Alternatively it may have been programmable, the Epicentres acting as controls for the system, rather like a modern mass transportation system. In either case they had access to systems within the network but presumably also those outside it. Overall a fixed system makes most sense in light of later events.

This must have taken a considerable amount of time, which presupposes that the Talocan used some form of Kitezh class ship, as discussed by the Triglavians and also the Jove appear to have some knowledge of them as well. It is unknown as to how many of them there were, or what the ratio of male and female was. Likewise did they use sexual reproduction or some system to generate viable embryos as the Jove did? It is a task of mammoth proportions, feeding so many without access to planetary resources, not to mention completely adapting to a whole new technology. They did it, while dating technologies for planetary archaeological sites are commonplace and a number of methodologies may be employed, those for spatial artefacts are much more complex and prone to error. Especially in the complex topology of Anoikis space. The only realistic figures quoted suggest some of the installations may be as old as twelve thousand years. This seems reasonable; the first Jovian expansion began around this time and the Talocan should have completed most of the work by then.

It is now a piece of history, but the Seyllin event was linked to Isogen-5 caches and caused the first wormholes to begin appearing in New Eden as well as shattering a number of planets. The later Caroline’s Star event, since found to be W477-P, revealed the presence of Thera and the shattered systems. Again, this points to the Talocan network and the main Anoikis cluster being two distinct entities. The Talocan must therefore have returned to New Eden prior to the Jovian expansion to complete their work unnoticed. It is also worth bearing in mind that a society can change beyond belief in three thousand years and that this happened twelve thousand years ago.

Somehow the Talocan used a device, or array of devices at W477-P in order to create some form of sub-spatial affinity between New Eden and Anoikis. How this was done is hard to even imagine as it necessitates altering the topology of space in both clusters. Interestingly this manipulation may have had other side effects as well, the abundance of deadspace zones, and even the Dead Storms of Detorid, which may point to the Abyss and even the Abyss itself may have been formed by this work. The Seyllin event probably opened up the existing weaknesses permitting the formation of wormholes and made this easier to achieve naturally. The event at W477-P travelled through the Epicenter network rendering the wormholes and static gates dysfunctional and unlocking the now shattered systems.

This made the formation of wormholes a lot easier and allowed the explorers much more access to Anoikis. Thera can support a dozen or more connections and maybe as many as twenty-five, this is a lot higher than most systems where the upper limit may be five or six. Most systems have one or two static connections, these can despawn and respawn very quickly so appear to be always present. There are any number of wandering connections as well, but all connections follow the underlying rules. Systems in the New Eden cluster itself do not have static connections, their limit seems to be around the usual five to six, Systems in Jovian space do not connect to normal Anoikis systems, although there may be others that are still hidden. The J005299 system is occupied by Sansha’s Nation and is unique in this respect, although it really suggests Sansha have other hidden systems in which they stage their fleets. The Jovians used a time-based system to name the Anoikis systems, the majority of the systems, excluding the unique, the shattered systems and four others, fall into the format of J-hours, minutes and seconds, two digits for each. The list is possibly not complete.

Connections form according to the systems, their statics and then any available wandering connections, These may follow some kind of hidden paths within the structure of space, it is impossible to say at present. Connections generally disappear within twenty-four hours, although the new Pochven holes have a shorter lifespan. Different connections have different mass limits, affecting the size and number of ships that can pass through without triggering a collapse. The inhabitants of Anoikis systems use this to their advantage, triggering an early collapse, or leaving the hole at a critical point thus trapping intruders. These cycles create endless patterns in the map of Anoikis, Class 4 systems can form long chains leading across the Anoikis cluster and Class 2 systems can form smaller ones or bridges between Anoikis and New Eden. The map is therefore a complex map of both scientific phenomena and human activity, the mathematics of which is extremely complicated.

It is not possible to predict where a given system will connect to, the type maybe but not an exact location. Organisations like Signal Cartel rely on huge numbers of scouts and specialised mapping tools to create a window into the map. In that respect it corresponds with the mathematics governing the formation of freckles on skin or the pattern on a variegated leaf, the patterns are unpredictable but expected.

The so-called Drifter systems are also unique. They contain a number of ancient structures, black monoliths and violent wormholes. The Caged Wormhole in particular is interesting in that it seems to link to Thera. Another site is a wrecked Sleeper Enclave, and there are ship graveyards containing unknown vessels. These appear to be experimental areas, strange rifts and mysterious probes, the black monoliths are also in evidence. The Sisters of Eve have been researching these systems for years, although have yet to report on them, standing flotillas of vessels stand guard in each system. A focal point for the system is the Hive, a complex of acceleration gates guarding entry to the Nexus. This is staggering, a massive double rift with a broken structure at the centre. Originally the structure resembled a sea urchin but quickly fell apart and is now an S-shaped disarray of huge beams, lightning sparks through the components on an intermittent basis. Nearby is an alignment device, but frequent attempts have failed to move the beams in any way. It is as though it was once trapped or sabotaged to make operation of the Nexus impossible. Drifters guard the way and have a Hive structure on site, hence the name, but the systems themselves are obviously the work of Talocan, or their descendants.

Anoikis is a grey area, it hides its secrets well and in many ways offers more questions than answers. The Talocan were active there from maybe twelve thousand years ago, the first Jovian expansion lasted for nine thousand years before collapsing in what appears to be civil war. From the archaeological record it is possible to see that they leapt ahead, making great strides in science and technology, their installations were re-engineered at a furious pace. It seems likely that some Jovian group made contact with the Talocan during this period, laying the foundations for the Sleepers. Analysis of at least one Drifter corpse was completed by a team consisting of Dr. Mizhir Starsurge, Dr. Anslo Tetua, Kybernetes Moros and Kalo Askold. The corpse had been much modified, beyond the original Jovian improvements, the Jovian corpses are similar and formed the basis of Warclone technology. Capsuleer infomorphic technology relies on a destructive brain scan at the point of death, the information is transmitted as a burst and used to reconstruct the brain state in a new clone, thus preserving memories and experiences. The Jovians, and now, Warclones, use an incremental system, much more sophisticated but requiring much higher bandwidth. The intricacy of some of the implants is such that the technology is unfathomable, but it probably has applications in interfacing with a virtual reality system.

Virtual Reality Environments (VRE) have been a desirable theoretical possibility since the use of computing technology really got going. There have been a large number of thought experiments, a lot of research, and they have formed the basis for numerous stories and a number of popular holoreels. The principles are well known and a lot of research has gone into virtual reality and its many applications in science, industry and entertainment. While great strides have been made the ultimate goal of a fully immersive world has never actually been realised and remains tantalisingly out of reach. The difficulty lies in the interface to the human brain, due to its complexity, and the Jovian implants appear to do just that.

The brain contains around 86 billion neurons, with interconnected synapses numbering maybe 60 trillion or more. The numbers are that large and frightening. A neuron is relatively simple to simulate, it's a switch, although there are countless different types and it has weighting with experience. The firing of a neuron triggers hundreds, even thousands, of synapses and these react in different ways because of the nature of the triggers released. Synapses also react to the firing of other synapses in their local area, which makes the processes much more complicated to simulate. Even the most highly sophisticated technology available in New Eden would require an installation the size of a large city and would not operate at anything like the speed of a human brain.

The Sleeper installations in Anoikis are densely packed with processing units and use advanced materials and methodologies not really understood by New Eden science. Even they do not appear to simulate the brain, but there is a way round it.

Old time philosophers talked of mind, body and spirit, to a great extent this is true. The brain is split into two sections, often referred to as the bicameral mind, on side being the emotional centre, the other dealing with logic and problem solving, but both interconnected and also interdependent with the body as well. It processes around 3 terabytes of information a day, a lot from the environment but a significant amount is derived from within the body as well; even the kidneys have nerves. The chemical balances of the body can affect the brain and vice versa. It seems as though the Jovian design uses the mind as a processor in conjunction with the high bandwidth infomorphic interface. This group mind acts as a kind of computational cloud which interacts with the processing structures to produce a kind of consensual reality, filling in the blanks as necessary.

The body is largely switched off, or the external stimuli are ignored and replaced by those of the VRE. This has to happen, without the bodily awareness in the circuit it can destabilise the mind. At its height there were countless installations throughout Anoikis, linked through the Talocan Epicenter network. Presumably the Jovians had been working towards this for thousands of years, and who is to say the Talocan were not doing as well. The supposed disappearance of the Yan Jung could be due to them taking their research into a VRE as well. It was a substantial computational structure. There must have been external operators and many working within it on various research projects. The early efforts of the Jovians would go a long way towards explaining the exponential gains in sophistication made during the first Jovian expansion. It is not known when the Jovians encountered the Talocan, perhaps only a few did, and maybe during the course of the first expansion, or shortly after it’s collapse.

Then things might have taken a different course, likely in light of subsequent events. In order to construct an ideal society, or at least experiment to find a better way, which appears to be a constant motivation for the Talocan at least, they would have to go a different route. The Jove created embryos, from bloodline genomes, rather than sexual reproduction. If they connected an infant to the VRE, and raised it inside it, using external operators, or even some form of artificial intelligence actors then the possibilities are extra-ordinary. They could link the infant’s mind to adaptive neuromorphic arrays, which would then grow as the child did, This then gives a reproducible processing array capable of hosting a human mind or forming the basis of an artificial sapience.

Artificial intelligence is used in many applications, and is frequently misunderstood. Any program that makes a seemingly intelligent decision is deemed AI. Although the leap to something which is artificially sentient is a big step. The Rogue Drones are for the most part simple intelligences performing according to a sophisticated script of some form. Very few are actually sentient, and even those may be part of a much larger single mind. The Triglavians use the term ‘distributed artificial entities’ in speaking about them and are very cautious.

It does make sense that the Jovians used some form of AI actor within their VRE, to guide events perhaps and steer things in the right direction. From analysis of what appears to have happened, this was their downfall. If they used an array capable of sentience for their actors, then it is possible that one or more actually achieved it, and in realising their nature, also perceived the nature of the VRE. The purity of the society within the VRE relies on the inhabitants being unaware that it is a construction. Something went badly wrong. The Talocan were forced to rescue infomorphs from the VRE, there are numerous quarantine stations around Anoikis to confirm this. Quarantine because they had to make sure that the rescued infomorphs were human and not some artificial infomorph. Very much letting the genie out of the bottle.

This took place not long before the total collapse of the second Jovian expansion and the Talocan of this time might well have been calling themselves Triglavians, or were heading that way. The Jovian Sleeper installations were equipped with guardians, the Patrollers and other ships still seen today, the actors from the VRE would have had little trouble taking these over and using them against the Talocan and surviving Jovians. It would seem that they fought a defensive battle heading for the Drifter systems, then using the giant rifts to take their Kitezh, presumably into the Abyss. This was not a controlled migration, it was a rushed evacuation, who knows what they left behind, or how many were lost.

The sentients from the VRE, and the other AI were able to take over the corpses of the Jovians, it is unlikely than any actually survived, although the question still exists; did the AI achieve sentience by accident, or did someone deliberately engineer it? As with the initial settlements, they were left alone to develop naturally, to give humanity a second chance. Were there agents among the Talocan that still wanted that to happen? Whichever the case it would seem that the sentients used the knowledge within the VRE, possibly to create the feared Drifter vessels, or perhaps simply using the guardian vessels left behind, to attack the rest of the second Jovian expansion colonies in New Eden. Revenge on, maybe as they saw it, their jailers. Certainly the second Jove Empire sites were attacked from outside their sector, fighting inward to the centre. It is possible they also infiltrated the genome databases and left behind a gift, the Jovian disease, a fatal flaw in their physiology. It may never be known, the evidence points to all the Jove being dead, only leaving their remnants behind.

These then are the Sleepers, a group of autonomous defensive systems and possibly some actual artificial sentients, maybe even one or more rogue agents among them. They seem to have built more structures, looking for a way to follow their jailers, or discover their technologies. Seemingly they did in the end, the scraps of trinary data recovered from damage fleets of Drifters in New Eden revealed the first glimpses of the Abyss. It is known they were fighting in areas of the Abyss capsuleers were not able to access and the Sansha had managed to invade their as well. The Triglavians referred to them as the Ancient Enemy, but not quite as they had known them. They also linked them to the second Jove Empire quite clearly, but these were Drifters, not the Sleeper vessels they had fought originally.

The Sleepers and Drifters are therefore two facets of the same group, some of the Sleeper installations being built after the surviving Talocan and Sleeper infomorphs escaped. The Talocan installations were left in ruins, the result of the Drifters' frustration at the escape. Sites like the Mirror may be Sleeper attempts to decode the Talocan technology in order to follow them, the actual truth may never be known.

The story from that point has been well recorded elsewhere. The Talocan prospered in the Abyss, modifying their technology, and adapting, as they had done previously. Its unknown how their society evolved, although these were the descendants of people who had gone through doubtless many changes in the last fifteen thousand years. For now their invasion seems to be at an end; they are consolidating Pochven and creating Bujan, or moving Bujan to Pochven, This is indeed perhaps one of their enduring mysteries, but given their history, simple to decode.

The Narodnya live lives of Struggle, seeking to improve themselves or die trying, their pilots fight ferociously without mercy for the most part. Each success improves their ranking, as seen in the Abyssal Proving Ground contests. Presumably failures send them down the ranks and Glorification can therefore be seen as a promotion, Mortification as a demotion. For the ultimate survivors the reward appears to be the rank of Koschoi, these live in the Domain of Bujan. It is obviously a VRE of some form, a fabled pleasure garden, similar to those depicted in ancient religious texts. There they reap the rewards they have earned, outside the struggle at last. The Navka receive somewhat different treatment. Their infomorph is edited, the emotional facet of their personality removed, and what is left is hosted on some kind of processing array. They act as librarians, guarding the memories of the Triglavians, and with the addition of a personality and a script, as actors to serve the Koschoi. Both may leave the Domain of Bujan from time to time as requested, but under the names Detached and Unshackled, to undertake missions of import.

The Domain itself is probably based on the Anchorages, linked together through their conduit network. Koschoi and Navka are both able to interface with individual Narodnya it would seem, acting as information stores and advisors. Indeed the Koschoi and Navka, being beyond the Struggle are those that form the Convocation of Triglav Outside the Struggle. From the Triglavians themselves it is known that those left behind in the Abyss are the Poshlost, the unworthy, maybe they can in time redeem themselves, but for now the bulk of the Triglav care nothing for them. It is telling that now the Sansha, Angel Cartel and even DED operatives are fighting over what remains in the Abyss. There will be more developments to come.

The Triglavians have wrought great changes to the fundamental nature of space, on a scale not seen since the establishment of the affinity between New Eden and Anoikis. This in itself was almost certainly responsible for the phenomena known as the Dead Storms of Detorid, elusive, but appearing when the alignments of Anoikis connections are in a certain conjunction. It could also have been responsible for the formation of the Abyss, lost systems trapped between the folds of space. Since the Triglavians moved the Anchorages into New Eden it has become even more unstable, Metaliminal storms sweeping the fringes of the New Eden cluster, and strange clouds moving through the Abyss. So far Anoikis has been unaffected, but for how long?

One of the communications from the Triglavians showed Sansha fleets fighting in what appears to be an unknown part of the Abyss. Certainly a part nobody has been able to access, but it might be possible given the Triglavian migration. The ship building facilities were only found in the deepest pockets, and no sign of the anchorages ever found. There could be tracts of systems never seen by capsuleers, the remnants of Triglavian civilisation, archaeological sites giving clues to their origin, as well as any facilities they may have left behind. Triglavians still live in the Abyss, Poshlost, but with the capacity to achieve some form of redemption and, although Narodnya, they remain connected to the Koschoi and Navka. These must live somewhere, even have Kitezh to use as a base and some means of harvesting food and other supplies. Maybe one day these wonders will be accessible, a new frontier of exploration.

There are fifty Abyssal pockets, linked by the conduit network, that is still Triglavian controlled, possibly a number of Proving Grounds as well. The Talocan directly controlled 101 systems out of the 2499 known Anoikis systems and Pochven is comprised of only 27 New Eden systems so far. When these are consolidated the Triglavians might desire to expand. They are building up, repurposing existing stations, constructing military installations and there may well be covert research facilities being constructed. The limitations of the conduit network restrict both capsuleers and those Narodnya who are still to prove themselves, not forgetting that even now the clades still prove against each other, it the way of the Triglav. New wormholes appear in systems, mostly local to Pochven, but other areas as well and in Anoikis, and the Triglavians still come out to prove themselves against the forces of New Eden.

A further complication could be Edencom; Provost Marshal Kasiha Valkanir has amassed a great deal of power and there are rumours of political turmoil between Edencom and the Empires. They have established 53 Fortress systems, between Edencom and the Triglavians there are a further 112 systems that have been ravaged by combat. Those systems obviously still hold some interest for the Triglavians and Edencom are not likely to let them go, nor do they seem content to let the Triglavians hold Pochven. While the systems are sealed off for now there are ongoing planetary resistance operations underway from all appearances. From the history of New Eden it would not be the first time a military command has gone rogue. This conflict has already seen a number of mercenary groups emerge, even Sansha have had some kind of schism and there are questions about the Upwell Consortium outstanding.

Both Edencom and Upwell have been found to have covert research facilities out in the fringes of the cluster, how many of these remain is unknown, but the two organisations seem to be linked in some unknown way. What further developments will take place is hard to imagine but there are undercurrents even now. It is a possibility that the Empires will write off their losses and seek peace with the Triglavians which could lead to them opening the border systems of Pochven, only time will tell.

[anoray]

Spectre One Rising

So many kickbutt writers out there have come up with engrossing and emotionally involving AU versions of SWR to deal with the heartbreak that is Season 4 concerning Cowboy Jedi Kanan and the good ship Kanera. Thank you and please don’t stop!  

You inspired me to come up with a (I hope) fun way to bring back Kanan while keeping it as canon-y as I can and trying not to cheapen the beautiful things about the sacrifice Kanan made.

It’s a little long (12,000+), sorry, but that’s what it took to get all my fixits in ;) It starts with Kanan on his ever famous exploding fuel pod, then picks up from there. Features lots of Ezra, too, and appearances by Thrawn, with a quasi-epilogue featuring Hera, Jacen and Sabine.

I’ve written other stuff, but confess this is my first attempt at fanfic. My appreciation in advance to any who make it through. I read on AO3, but don’t have my own account (yet?) so just posting this baby here.  Did not have a beta reader, so when you catch quibbles, thanks for sharing!

I do hope we’ll get a canon story with Kanan coming back one day very soon!

Kanan 1 BBY 

Kanan braced himself on the shuddering metal of the exploding fuel pod, allowing the Force to flow through him as never before.  The engulfing flames raged, slamming into the immense shield of energy Kanan wielded to protect the Imperial gunship hovering behind him. That gunship carried everyone that mattered most to him in the galaxy.  Hera. Ezra. Sabine. You will live. 

Kanan filled with an almost ecstatic certainty that eradicated the last shreds of self-doubt he’d harbored for so long.  He felt no pain. No fear. This is my moment.  This is where I am needed most.  Kanan pushed even harder at the relentless inferno, wringing out precious seconds to ensure his family’s escape to safety. 

“Kanan!” His focus split as Hera rushed up behind him.  Kanan instinctively reached back, lifting Hera into a Force embrace. Turning slowly to face the woman he would die for, Kanan realized his only regret was the shock and horror she radiated, the grief she and the others would suffer.  If only Hera knew what was crystal clear to him.  His death had a greater purpose. Lothal’s rising sun would illuminate irreparable damage to Thrawn’s TIE Defender program.  Hera’s mission would be complete. 

Holding Hera aloft, Kanan reveled in her unique Force signature.  Her inner and outer beauty had always shone brightest to him no matter the source of his vision. Kanan hoped she’d finally come to understand she had been his life’s mission from the moment they’d met on Gorse. All he could do was envelop her with the love he felt, grateful for the years they’d shared.  In that moment, Kanan sensed a second, subtle Force signature pulsing within Hera’s body. Hera will bear our child!    

Indescribable joy ignited Kanan from the inside out.  Oh, if only he could stay! Every part of him longed to be a father, a husband, to protect his entire Ghost family for their future to come.  But his future…that remained to be seen. Ignoring his thudding heart, Kanan hurled Hera into the safety of Ezra’s arms. 

Now the Force crested within him, a rising tidal wave.  As the energy surged ever higher, Kanan felt thirty years of body aches and old scars diminish.  At the same time, the miracle of sight returned to his formerly blinded eyes, an unexpected gift of color and light from the Force. 

Kanan’s eyes drank in Hera’s loveliness like sweet nectar.  Her eyes widened farther in stunned surprise—she’d realized Kanan could see her! I love you, Hera.  Kanan’s gaze shifted to include Ezra. You’ve got this from here, kid. I know you can do it.  So much more to say to them both, but his time had run out.  With a final look at Hera, Kanan Force-shoved the gunship away with all his might.   

Kanan projected his consciousness outward milliseconds before the fireball engulfed his body.  Soaring upward, Kanan saw the gunship zoom safely away as the fuel pods ignited in a chain reaction of bright, white Light— 

Ezra 4 ABY

 A knock. “Master Ezra, are you all right?” A louder knock. 

Ezra rose groggily from the none too cozy floor of his cabin aboard the Chimaera.  His mind was still emblazoned with the image of Kanan’s milky, blinded eyes brightening to vivid teal.  My master saw me in the end.  

“Master Ezra?” His droid, PZ-5 stepped through the now open doorway.  Her reflective visor and droning voice somehow emulated concern.  “I heard your cries outside in the corridor.” 

“I’m fine, PeeZee. It was…another one of those visions.” Ezra shakily waved her outstretched hand away, wondering not for the first time how a tactical droid who looked so much like AP-5 could possess such a different demeanor.  Maybe it was a lucky combination of the droid parts he’d salvaged on Thrawn’s purrgil-wrecked Star Destroyer to repair her.  Ezra doubted Chopper would have been impressed with his handiwork, but he might have gotten a thumbs up from Sabine. Ezra’s heart thumped wistfully.  

“The one about your former master, Kanan Jarrus?”  

Ezra tucked away thoughts of Sabine and his Ghost family as he shuffled unsteadily toward his bunk. It did him no good to wallow in homesickness like a puffer pig. “Yeah, and the images get clearer each time. But I feel like I’m missing some important detail.”   

PZ cocked her head. “But, if I may say so, what is the point of revisiting your master’s demise after these many years? Surely that is only painful and changes nothing you both endured.”   

Ezra’s knees buckled right before he slumped onto the stiff mattress.  He had no answer for the droid.  Yet. What he did know was the visions about Kanan began tormenting him shortly after he’d sensed the death of the Emperor in the Force.  That stunning revelation struck Ezra about five years after the purrgil joined Ezra in his determined battle to liberate Lothal by demolishing Thrawn’s blockade.  

While aboard the Chimaera as Thrawn’s now escaped prisoner, Ezra silently asked the Force sensitive creatures for one last favor. Take me where I’m needed most, a place where I no longer endanger my family.  The purrgil lit up for hyperspace flight—and transported the entire Star Destroyer to the farthest reaches of Wild Space.  Setting the badly damaged vessel adrift in the atmosphere of an uncharted planet, the purrgil vanished.   

Ezra felt abandoned, a lone, injured Jedi among enraged Imperials without even his lightsaber by his side.  He struggled to understand why the purrgil dumped him at the farthest edge of the galaxy, forced into an alliance with an equally reluctant and disadvantaged Thrawn for mutual survival.  Ezra reached out to the Force with a heavy heart.  Was my sacrifice made in vain?  As if in answer, things immediately got worse. 

The scouting parties sent to the scattering of planetary communities in search of aid found only the remains of tens of thousands of inhabitants, all massacred over a standard year ago.  Any survivors must have abandoned their world. Or--more likely—been taken as slaves.  Shivers ran up Ezra’s spine as he explored war torn streets and realized any structure or object that could be associated with a spiritual, artistic or cultural purpose lay in savage ruins.  In contrast, technological and industrial elements stood untouched, as if they were beneath the notice of those who had decimated the population.  Ezra shared in the Imperials’ constant apprehension.  Was something far worse following behind, on its way to swoop in and claim its tribute? 

Thrawn strategically used the precarious situation to his starship’s advantage.  For several months, Ezra and the crew scavenged supplies and materials to make the Chimaera space worthy again.  Very early on, Ezra and the others became too exhausted and overworked to spare much thought on the potential of impending doom.   Once the Star Destroyer was finally space bound, progress was painfully slow. Without star maps to navigate the maze of destructive anomalies—and lacking reliable sources of food and fuel--the Chimaera limped forward system by system toward the Unknown Regions. 

By necessity, the ship’s course settings also became more furtive.  The few habitable worlds they encountered all had the same thing in common: the annihilation of their population, and demolition of all religious and cultural artifacts.  Ezra’s heart twisted for the innocent dead, and harbored concern for the vulnerable Chimaera.  Every time Ezra attempted to gain some sense of the mysterious attackers through the Force, he hit a blank wall.  The Grand Admiral seemed to find Ezra’s lack of perceptive success intriguing. 

Meanwhile, Thrawn’s cold red eyes missed nothing as his crew collected grim evidence of a new and significant threat to the known galaxy. Ezra loathed Thrawn for all the suffering he’d inflicted on his Ghost family and the Rebellion.  Yet, Ezra developed a grudging respect for the way Thrawn galvanized his initially shell-shocked crew to restore and maintain Imperial order and discipline.  Ezra covertly gleaned much about the Grand Admiral, who was systematically transforming his purrgil-induced defeat into a surveillance mission vital to the Empire.   Ezra had no doubt Thrawn envisioned a triumphant return with priceless data on the hostiles and star maps of the Wild regions to bestow upon Palpatine.  Although…Ezra increasingly sensed Thrawn’s loyalty belonged to the Chiss Ascendancy alone. 

Ever practical, Thrawn elevated Ezra to spearhead missions to scavenge supplies and fuel from each corpse-filled settlement to sustain the Chimaera.  Unlike the Imperials, Ezra was hardened by extreme and lean conditions under the Rebellion. Ezra found himself even relishing the dangerous work at times.  He knew full well his success in bringing back his scouting parties alive earned him Thrawn’s increasing trust as well as greater tolerance from the crew.  But with PZ-5 his only genuine friend on the Chimaera, Ezra’s loneliness and homesickness for his Ghost family remained a daily battle.   

About three months after the Chimaera was again space bound, Ezra’s Jedi abilities earned him something more than trust from the Grand Admiral.  During a mission debriefing in Thrawn’s office, Ezra’s jaw almost dropped when the Chiss opened a locked drawer and withdrew…a lightsaber?  No—Ezra’s heart lurched.  From what little Kanan had shared of being made a Knight during his Jedi Temple vision, this was a Temple Guard’s lightsaber pike.   

“You did especially well today, Commander Bridger. Your…communication with the reptilian creatures prevented several troopers from being devoured.” Thrawn calmly held the beautifully designed hilt out toward Ezra. 

“All those big lizards wanted was a fair share of grain in the silos.” Ezra did not reach for the pike. He eyed Thrawn accusingly. “You’ve had this all along?” 

Thrawn nodded. “It is one of the many Jedi artifacts I’ve collected, along with the mask that accompanied it.” 

“And you’re giving it to me now?” Ezra resisted the urge to snatch the pike from Thrawn’s blue hand and bash him over the head with it.  

“You once advised me that the Force is not a weapon. That it is something I would never understand. Perhaps you are right, Commander. However, what I have come to understand is that a Jedi like you without his lightsaber is…far less efficient in the field.” 

Eyes narrowed, Ezra took the hilt away. He immediately felt the minute vibration from the crystal within.  Igniting the pike, Ezra’s whole sense of being lit up with the bright, yellow blades. I’s been so long since I’ve held a lightsaber. Recalling the red blades of Maul and the Inquisitors, Ezra gently twirled the humming pike, careful not to slice Thrawn’s desk—or Thrawn--in half. “I’ve never trained with a double-bladed weapon.” 

“Then there is no time like the present.” With an aloof gesture, Thrawn dismissed Ezra. Ezra rotated the blades a few times on his way to the door, then switched the pike off to hang it on his belt. 

“I’ll put this to good use.” Ezra was not about to thank Thrawn.  The Temple Guard’s pike never belonged with the arrogant Chiss in the first place.  Thrawn’s crimson eyes gleamed back at him, clearly neither expecting--nor wanting--gratitude. 

“Indeed you will, Commander.” 

For this moment and countless reasons, Ezra never told Thrawn the Emperor was dead. He’d kept the news even from PZ-5. The day the Force had shifted profoundly, Ezra and PZ-5 were using one of the Chimaera’s remaining Lambda class shuttles to orbit the latest decimated planet.  As usual, Ezra reached out with the Force to sense any dangers before landing. Ezra felt himself abruptly sucked into an abnormally deep trance. His skin beaded with sweat as if a fever had broken within him.  The Emperor has fallen. Astonished, Ezra probed harder for details--and gagged, recoiling from what burned like ichor spewing from a ruptured, deeply infected wound. 

Ezra felt caught in an ocean of Force energy settling itself after the passage of a raging storm.  As the Dark receded, Ezra found himself encountering a subtle ripple of Light.  Who is that?   The Force signature felt vaguely familiar, but it was not Ahsoka Tano or Obi-wan Kenobi. It felt nothing like Kanan.  His former master’s Force signature carried undertones of an elemental, primal energy.  Whoever this sparkling ripple was, their Force signature pulsed as a faint beacon to the known galaxy.  Ezra’s heart bounded. He’d rushed through the mission, countering PZ-5’s inquiries and concerns with rote responses.  Back in his cabin, one thought flared over and over. 

With the Emperor dead, I can safely reach out to Sabine! It’s time for her to find me!  To Ezra’s surprise, the Force met this thought with firm resistance. You are not done here.  Too eager for home to be easily deterred, Ezra called out furtively to the purrgil for hours.  Silence. Apparently, they agreed with the Force. That night, visions of Kanan’s death started ripping Ezra’s heart open again and again. PZ-5 had found Ezra passed out in the corner of his cabin and refused to leave until he told her what happened. 

“Master Ezra?” 

Dragged from his river of past thoughts, Ezra opened his eyes--to find PZ-5’s gleaming visor looming over his face. “Agh!”  The equally startled droid staggered back. 

“I’m sorry, sir.  I’ve been relaying details concerning our mission to Ja’Ghar and it appeared you fell asleep.”  PZ-5’s head angled in a frustrated pose. “Did you hear a single word I said?”  

“Uh, no. Could you repeat, please?” Ezra rubbed his aching forehead. Was the droid shaking her finger at him? 

“I must first express how increasingly debilitating these episodes have become.  In fact, I should escort you to the—” 

“You know what would really clear my head, PeeZee? A strong cup of caf.”  This was their longstanding code for:  I need you to go spy on what’s going on out there.  PZ-5 shifted into an anticipatory stance. 

“Oh. Of course, Master Ezra. Would you care for any additives?” How nosy would you like me to be?  If droids had dreams, Ezra had a strong suspicion PZ’s would consist of her running amok as an intimidating KX-security unit.   

“Just an extra shot, please.”  Check on the Big Blue Guy if you can.  “Oh, and inventory the shuttle, make sure those supplies I asked for are on board. We should be coming up on the Ja’Ghar system anytime now.” 

“That’s precisely what I was attempting to tell you.” With an exasperated gesture, the droid stepped out, the door shutting behind her. Ezra rubbed his chin, smiling.  My goatee could sure use a trim.  His smile faltered; Hera had loved to tweak Kanan’s beard.   

Is your master truly dead?  

Ezra stiffened.  That voice had resonated through what Ezra half-jokingly referred to as his “nature channel,” the Force frequency he used most often to commune with wildlife. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Hearing nothing more, Ezra sighed out a shaky breath. Why is all this happening? What does it mean?  Maybe PZ-5 was right.  The visions were digging up Ezra’s long buried feelings of guilt.  Yes, Ezra had let Kanan go…but some core part of himself still felt a vitally important task regarding his master remained undone.   

Interwoven with all his emotional baggage, Ezra sensed an underlying, expanding imbalance in the Force. With the Emperor gone, new evils were undoubtedly emerging from their shadows to fill the vacuum.  Already here in Wild Space, they faced a merciless horde butchering its way into the galaxy.  The Light desperately needed every Jedi it could muster against the encroaching Dark. If only Kanan was still alive to help Ezra tip the scales. But Kanan was gone. 

Thrawn 4 ABY 

Grand Admiral Thrawn paced the Chimaera’s bridge, overseeing his skeletal crew, each member grown long accustomed to working multiple positions efficiently.  His red eyes turned to the viewscreen…and flinched almost imperceptibly as he recalled vast, swarming tentacles shattering through the permasteel glass.  I see your defeat. Like many arms surrounding you in a cold embrace.  Not for the first time, Thrawn speculated what had become of the Bendu and how the creature had predicted his situation. 

Thrawn did not berate himself for being outmaneuvered by a sky full of berserk purrgil.  He doubted any tactical officer in the Empire could have predicted such a peculiar, supernatural assault.  Thrawn did acknowledge, however, that he’d underestimated young Ezra Bridger.  He would not make that mistake again.  When so many of the Chimaera’s crew clamored for the Jedi’s blood in payment for their exile to Wild Space, Thrawn logically reminded them that Bridger was, in fact, the only one among them capable of recalling the purrgil for a hastier return.   

Thrawn ferreted out soon enough that the unpredictable creatures had abandoned Bridger, apparently indefinitely.  But Thrawn kept that to himself.  By this time, he had (at least temporarily) set aside his disdain for Bridger’s Jedi witchery; it had proven far too useful time and again, especially with navigation around volatile anomalies, and warnings of impending danger.  Bridger’s Force sensitivity and unique ability to communicate with planetary fauna remained crucial to gleaning what little information was available on each war struck world they explored.  Thrawn was not easily shaken, but he did admit to himself the absence of sentient life in this sector was…disturbing.  

Whoever or whatever this menace was, Thrawn noted certain intriguing similarities with the Yuuzhan Vong, merciless invaders who threatened the Unknown Regions and the Chiss Ascendency. The Vong despised mechanical technology; instead, they developed genetically engineered and organic technological innovations for their civilizations. When Bridger noted he felt nothing from the Force concerning the menace here in Wild Space, Thrawn pondered. He was aware Jedi records revealed the Vong had no Force signature, and the Jedi could only indirectly attack using their Force skills. 

Yet, Thrawn’s gut told him that the menace here in Wild Space was something other. This invading horde did not pillage, or loot.  There was no evidence yet of escaped prisoners or slaves.  What this menace did with incredible precision was terminate sentient organics. As an art connoisseur, Thrawn found the horde’s defacement of cultural, artistic and spiritual constructs a puzzling affront to his sensibilities.  Yet, by leaving the technologies of these worlds untouched, invaders apparently considered these achievements feeble and completely beneath them.  Thrawn’s intuition hinted at a menace inorganic in nature, but he required physical evidence to prove his theory.  If this did turn out to be the truth, Thrawn contemplated what might occur if the Yuuzhan Vong and this mysterious adversary met head to head. Who might be the victor?  Or, better yet, no victor at all. 

Regardless, it appeared fortuitous the purrgil had unwittingly provided Thrawn with an early warning signal for the known galaxy.  And he had every intention that the Chimaera would deliver her message. 

“Sir, we have reached Ja’Ghar, but are now receiving an unidentified transmission from a beacon in Kkantu, the planetary system beyond.” The officer looked up at Thrawn, eyes round with puzzlement. “Grand Admiral…it is a Republic code from the Clone Wars era.” 

Thrawn ceased pacing as he processed the startling information. “Very good. Instruct Commander Bridger to disembark on his mission here. Set a course for the beacon. Bridger will rendezvous with the Chimaera at those coordinates once his mission is complete.”  

“Aye, sir.” 

Kanan 1 BBY 

Kanan emerged from the incandescent light of the explosion, completely disoriented.  Slowly, he realized he was within the dim and empty mountain cave on Lothal.  Kanan felt weightless yet sensed an indefinable mass to his energy field.  He also tingled with anticipation. Kanan’s visions prior to Hera’s rescue had hinted he might temporarily retain his own consciousness to help guide Ezra through the next step in protecting Lothal. But the Force had made no promises, not by a long shot. 

Kanan wondered how long his individuality would stay intact. As if invited by his thoughts, a distant tug pulled insistently at Kanan. This way.  Curiously, Kanan immediately felt himself held in place by an opposing tug.  The overall sensation was indescribable; like being caught in a web, yet actually being a part of the web itself.   

Apprehensive that his consciousness might meld into the Cosmic Force at any moment, Kanan focused on finding Hera and the others.  I’ll at least check on them, offer any comfort I’m allowed.  Just thinking of Hera caused Kanan’s energy to vibrate intently, which helped him ignore the insistent tug.  Good. He’d be thrilled to keep Hera planted in his mind for as long as this took.  

Moving his energy mass took some practice. Rotating slowly, Kanan noticed his mask and shorn hair on the alter.  Looking up, his gaze was captured by an array of mysterious, ancient hieroglyphs along the cave’s back wall.  The walls are telling a story. Kanan recalled Ezra’s voice from the past.  There are people coming from the sky. I think they’re Jedi.   

Drifting closer, Kanan realized a cluster of three figures clearly represented members of the Jedi High Council.  Ezra might have recognized Yoda, but he wouldn’t have known Ki-Adi-Mundi and Mace Windu.  The three Jedi reached for a baby, who was surrounded by a halo of powerful Force lines. Kanan felt an electric shock of sudden awareness.   That child is me. 

YES. CALEB DUME. 

The affirmation pulsed through Kanan.  The intensity reminded Kanan of Bendu, the way that Force entity’s voice permeated Kanan right down his molecules. Kanan tried to speak aloud—but he had no mouth. His consciousness reached out. Who are you? 

I AM DUME. 

That declaration sent imagery flooding through Kanan’s senses. He reeled, overwhelmed by this ancient, elemental Force entity.  Dume had to be at least as old as Lothal itself. Kanan struggled to understand Dume’s inhuman thoughts, feeling like an ant trying to converse with a god.   Hey, Dume, you’re going to have to keep it very simple. 

I JOINED WITH YOU. FOR LOTHAL. 

Memories inundated Kanan, all out of order:  He was a youngling training in the Coruscant Temple, he kissed Hera heatedly in the cockpit of the Ghost, he drunkenly beat the crap out of a loudmouth smuggler, he ran in shame while his master, Depa Billaba, died to save him.  Kanan clashed lightsabers with Darth Vader, he consoled Ezra after Malachor. The final memory was of his parents, apparently simple farmers who handed him off tearfully to the three Jedi masters.  But why, Dume, why join with me?  

Dume blasted Kanan’s consciousness with multiple layers of communication. Kanan stumbled through this maze of inhuman thought and managed to absorb the key points:  Dume, a planetary guardian, sensed the Force growing increasingly out of balance long before the Clone Wars. Lothal’s potential to be demolished was very high. Yet the ancients had prophesized the birth of a Force-sensitive child whose energy signature could safely blend with Dume’s embedded presence.  This combined being would protect Lothal.  

Drawn to Caleb’s unique and powerful Force signature, the High Council members gained his parents’ blessing and took Caleb to the Coruscant Temple for Jedi training.

Embedded within Caleb, Dume gained direct access to the Jedi and its failing war with the Dark. After Order 66, Kanan’s innate strength of will, backed by Dume’s powerful presence, enabled him to survive the purge that thousands of Jedi did not.  Even during Kanan’s darkest years, Dume absorbed crucial knowledge through his underground existence as a smuggler.  As Kanan realized his destiny had always been intertwined with Lothal, his consciousness lightened.  He also understood more than ever that meeting and falling in love with Hera Syndulla had turned the tide. With Hera as his compass, and Dume at his back, Kanan slowly reclaimed his life’s purpose. 

As if called by his thoughts, Hera shuffled into the cave, clutching the Kalikori tightly to her chest.  “Why did I take so long to tell him?”  

Kanan had never seen her look so broken. Hera. As she wept over his death, blaming herself for it, Kanan desperately tried to envelop her in a tangible embrace, to assure her it had all been his choice.  But she couldn’t feel or hear him. What is the point of my consciousness being intact if I can’t even help the woman I love?  Dume didn’t answer. Perhaps the entity considered heartbreak a petty, private matter. 

It was Chopper—Chopper!-- who comforted Hera when Kanan could not. Kanan felt deep relief he hadn’t reduced the murderous droid to scrap metal all those times it seemed like such a perfect idea. Those early years of shock prods, binary insults, and brutal knee bruises were a small price to pay to both see and sense Hera’s grief ease a little.   

And when Chopper suggested the idea of adding Kanan to Hera’s Kalikori, Kanan wished he could hug the stumpy astromech and apologize (sincerely this time) for letting Zeb gamble him away to Lando.  

Hera’s grief-filled eyes warmed and softened. “No one deserves that honor more than Kanan.” Those tender words ignited a cascade of joy throughout Kanan’s entire being. Hera was going to make him part of her Ryloth family tree? Her husband.  This is what he’d pushed for, what she’d resisted so long because of the war. He knew Hera loved him, everything she shared inside and outside of their intimate moments made her love clear as day. But she had refused to confirm her feelings during any talk of a their long-term future. Kanan understood now that his usually steadfast Hera had been terrified of losing him the way she’d lost others dear to her heart. She’d finally made clear her love and desire for a future together with Kanan—then watched as an inferno consumed him. 

Kanan enfolded his beloved—his wife--into his energy and made a vow.   For whatever time the Cosmic Force grants me, Hera, I will remain to watch over you and our child.  

But when Kanan attempted to follow Hera out of the cave, everything abruptly shifted to a purplish, interdimensional night. It was becoming infuriatingly clear to Kanan that he was as embedded with Dume as Dume was with him.  On one hand, this symbiotic relationship kept Kanan’s consciousness from dissipating into the Cosmic Force. On the other hand, Kanan felt like a tick clinging to a Bantha—limited to whatever the mighty Dume wanted to do and see.  

Speaking of that, what Kanan saw now was a truly enormous Loth-wolf.  Oh, so this how you choose to appear to mere mortals?  And is that my shoulder pauldron emblem on your forehead?   

“Kanan?” Looking down, Kanan was alarmed to see Ezra entrapped by the trio of smaller Loth-wolves.   

YOUR APPRENTICE. PROTECT TEMPLE. 

The second mission! Consumed with concern for Hera, Kanan had neglected Ezra’s urgent task. His padawan looked so tiny and vulnerable under Dume’s divine-like scrutiny.   Kanan rushed protectively toward the teen, but it was like slogging through space waffle syrup. Can’t you see? You’re all just scaring him!  Let me talk to Ezra. 

WE TALK TOGETHER. 

What? How was he supposed to talk in tandem with a giant spirit wolf?  With no instructions offered—and apparently no choice--Kanan projected his will through Dume as powerfully as possible, his intent to create words the kid could understand. I’m here, Ezra. I’ll guide you the best I’m allowed through what is to come. What emerged: 

I AM DUME. 

Ezra looked perplexed. Kanan felt the same.  Great. The ensuing conversation pretty much went downhill from there. Kanan knew Ezra had the inner strength and cunning to carry out the mission, the grief-stricken kid just needed a little reassurance. Instead, he was berated for being afraid. Kanan focused harder, imagining himself moving Dume’s jaws to speak the right words.  I know you can do this, Ezra. You’re strong in the Force, able to channel Light and Dark like no Jedi I’ve ever known. It’s why this task fell to you. Dume rumbled: 

FIGHT. TOGETHER. 

Ugh!  It was the space waffle syrup all over again. Again and again, Kanan blasted his will through Dume like a foghorn, trying to relay both compassion and the scant details that had been imparted to Kanan previously by the white Loth-wolf.  The Jedi Temple is in terrible danger from the Emperor, Ezra. You must move quickly, keep its secrets safe or no one in the galaxy will be safe.  Everything boomed out of Dume’s razor-toothed jaws in cryptic fashion. 

KNOWLEDGE. DESTRUCTION. 

Kanan didn’t blame Ezra one bit for eyeing the keystone the wolves gave him with befuddlement, but Dume’s frustration built to dangerous levels.  Hey, you’re not exactly making it easy for him!  Ignoring Dume’s exasperated sigh, Kanan made a final effort.  

RESTORE PAST. REDEEM FUTURE.  

Ezra’s ensuing pleas for help were the last straw. Dume growled and rumbled ominously.  Don’t hurt him!  But the gigantic wolf snapped his jaws over Ezra, and everything shifted to blackness. 

Well, that went well.  Kanan floated in the murk, sensing Dume fume all around him. Kanan discovered he retained his own formidable sulking skills. Dume and Bendu might be godlike Force entities, but they sure shared a short fuse. Who knows?  Maybe Dume and Bendu were ancient pals—and the reason why Bendu hadn’t blown him out of Attolon’s sky. As far as his puny human mind was concerned, both entities seemed to lack a bit of common sense in some areas.   Soooo, now what?  In case you’re interested, I have some suggestions that might actually work.  

As if in response, Kanan now found himself afloat alongside the white Loth-wolf who had guided him to destroy the TIE Defender program’s fuel supply. The grasslands rippled under the early morning sun.  Following the wolf’s intent gaze, Kanan could see Hera, Ezra, Sabine and Zeb studying the Temple keystone. Kanan felt himself vibrating with relief to see his apprentice so full of purpose again.  Looks like Dume and I got through to you after all.  And there was Sabine, head bent closely over the keystone.  Kanan’s energy brightened. Those two were an unstoppable team. 

When Ezra called the Loth-wolves for a Force-assisted ride to the Temple, Kanan managed to flow alongside the group.  His journey with Hera, Ezra, Sabine and Chopper was bittersweet.  Everyone Kanan cared most about was so close, yet so far away. Every attempt to touch or communicate directly always hit a barrier like unbreakable glass. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure it. 

Ezra 4 ABY 

Ezra looked out at the starfield, enjoying his temporary freedom from Thrawn. It was just PZ-5 with him on the shuttle to Ja’Ghar. So much the better.  From the moment he’d found mention of the system in the remnants of information culled during missions on the other destroyed worlds, he’d felt an irresistible pull to explore it.   

Based on the symbols and language decoded by PZ-5 and one of the remaining protocol droids onboard the Chimera, Ja’Ghar appeared to be a religious epicenter for this sector in Wild Space.  Thrawn agreed it was important to investigate the planet for any clues it might still hold on the attacking force.   

As a spiritual hub, Ezra and Thrawn both concurred the attackers had most likely devastated the planet’s artifacts and buildings…but they could have overlooked something vital.  Ezra couldn’t shake the feeling there was something crucially important awaiting his discovery. 

“I’ve laid in the coordinates for our landing, Master Ezra.”  PZ-5’s metal hands moved smoothly over the controls. 

“Thanks, PeeZee. Stand by, I’m going to proceed with my Jedi witchery.” Ezra winked at the droid before closing his eyes.  Reaching out, he probed for any dangers or other potential circumstances in their path.  Almost immediately, he felt a tug toward a different region of the blue-green world below them.  Eyes still closed, Ezra let his hands take hold of the shuttle’s controls. 

“Sir, why are you entering different coordinates?” By her tone, Ezra knew PZ-5 had her head cocked at a puzzled angle. 

“I’m picking up on a powerful energy signature.  In that region of waterfalls.” Ezra shivered, felt his consciousness slipping a bit. He focused harder, retaining control.  “Just trust me on this, okay?”  

“Well…” The droid reacted as Ezra abruptly slumped.  “Master Ezra, are you all right?” 

“Just…stay…on…course…” Ezra’s voice faded as a deep trance took him over. 

Ezra knew he was in a dream-like vision, but everything felt intensely real. He floated in a purple black sky, staring up at a familiar, almost absurdly giant Loth-wolf. Dume’s dagger-like teeth flashed as he spoke. 

RESTORE PAST. REDEEM FUTURE. 

Ezra frowned, puzzled. But I’ve already done what you asked. I opened the Gate to the World Between Worlds. I rescued Ahsoka Tano from Vader. I helped destroy the Jedi Temple to keep its power and secrets from the Emperor. 

AGAIN. 

What? How? The Temple is gone. Who are you, anyway? You have my master’s name, but you’re not really him. Are you? 

CALEB DUME. 

Ezra recoiled as fire and heat suddenly raged around him.  Not again!  But he was back inside the Imperial gunship gripping Hera.  Both of them stared incredulously while Kanan’s milky, blind eyes brightened back into teal.  It’s as if the Force itself is looking at me through his eyes. Then Kanan flung the gunship to safety as he vanished silently into the enormous blast. 

The scene suddenly shifted. Ezra lay inside the Imperial drill vehicle, feeling the Jedi Temple shuddering into destruction around them. Bright white light as the Force intensified with unfathomable power. And Kanan’s calm, assuring voice…The Force will be with you. Always. It reminded Ezra of the time his blind master saw him through a similar massive explosion of Force energies generated by the colliding Sith and Jedi holocrons.  

Bright light dissolved into chilly dawn. Ezra and a sorrowful Hera faced barren ground where the great Temple once stood.  In the distance, the white Loth-wolf stared at Ezra, as if waiting for a signal.  Goodbye, Kanan. 

“Master Ezra? Can you hear me?” Ezra’s eyes popped open to find PZ-5 propping him up in his pilot seat.  “Oh, there you are, sir.”  Warm sunlight filtered in through the viewscreen.  Ezra looked rapidly around, relieved to see the shuttle safely landed. 

“How long was I out, PeeZee?” Breathe. Just breathe.  Ezra calmed his pumping heart. An intense wave of longing to be back on the Ghost with Kanan, Hera, Sabine, Zeb—even Chopper—nearly overwhelmed him. He took another deep breath. Relax.  When the time is right, Ahsoka will find me. Sabine will find me.  

“Only for a few minutes, sir. You made an interesting comment at the end of your trance.” 

“I did?” Ezra hadn’t realized he talked aloud during the visions. 

“Yes. You said, ‘I know what to do now.’ What did you mean by that?” The droid watched Ezra jump out of the pilot seat, then trailed behind him on their way to the shuttle’s ramp. 

“I don’t know, PeeZee.  But I think I’m about to find out.” 

Emerging from the shuttle, Ezra found himself surrounded by mystical, temperate woods. The tall, slender trees encircled a beautiful body of water that was fed by a magnificent waterfall at one end. Foaming water cascaded down a jagged cliff, creating a spray of mist below. 

The plunging water cut deeply through the upper outcroppings of rock.  The effect resembled towers of a primitive temple jutting skyward.  Keeping the hilt of his lightsaber pike handy, Ezra explored the area, pondering overgrown vegetation that covered a variety of strange shaped lumps under leafy vines and moss.  He approached the largest lump, an angled semicircle that directly faced the waterfall. 

“I think there’s some kind of monument under here.”  Ezra gestured for PZ-5 to help him tear away the clinging vines.  Their efforts revealed a tableau carved into a thick block of stone. Ezra’s eyes locked on the glyphs and primal images, excitement rising as he recognized geometric art, kindred in design to the cave paintings he’d seen on Lothal. “PeeZee, what do you make of all this?”   

“It appears the overgrowth disguised a ceremonial site from the invaders, Master Ezra. “These other hidden structures are assembled in a pattern to emphasize this particular tableau.” 

“But what do these carvings look like to you?”  Ezra needed to make sure he wasn’t imagining things he wanted to see.   

“Processing, sir.” The tableau’s most prominent series of carvings depicted four different symbols set equally apart along a deep, circular groove. The droid focused silently a moment, scanning internal records for any matches. “It appears to resemble points on a compass.” 

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Ezra touched each symbol in turn:  a square, a sail-shaped triangle, a bowl-shaped semi-circle, and a set of three very slender rectangles, the center one tallest.  PZ-5 cocked her head, observing. 

“Sir, based on my data for comparisons, those carvings align with multiple cultural references to the four elements.” 

Ezra’s eyes narrowed.  Yes, of course.  “Let me guess. The square is earth, the bowl is water, the triangle is air…that leaves these rectangles for fire.”  He turned his gaze to the small lake with its foaming waterfall. His heart beat faster.  “Looks like we’re at the water point.” 

“It is a logical deduction, Master Ezra.”  PZ-5 gestured at the center of the compass.  Inside, a carved glyph combined all four elemental shapes within a series of interlocking circles.  “This infers a central connection between all four points.”  

I’ve been led to a Temple that might connect to the World Between Worlds!  Ezra sensed the truth of this resonate deeply within him. Restore the past. Redeem the future.  He focused hard on the other three points, then placed his hand on the square.  Earth. Ezra could almost see and feel an endless sea of grassy plains, whimsical stone mountains protruding into a soft sky. Lothal is—was—the earth Temple.   

The pounding beat of the waterfall resonated in Ezra’s ears like a never-ending drum. Maybe the vegetation wasn’t the only thing hiding something important from the attackers.  But if that’s the water Temple, how do I get inside? 

Reaching out through the Force, Ezra felt his hand drawn to the center of the tableau’s compass.  He held it there and closed his eyes. Opening his mind fully, Ezra felt the Force flow strongly through him, surging outward in an energetic wave, directly at the plunging waterfall. 

Something deep within the rocky cliffs groaned, stone slowly grinding on stone. The roaring of the waterfall altered with it. Ezra opened his eyes wide, both astonished and gratified at the sight of the waterfall parting like foaming curtains.  The waters churned and plummeted now to either side of a deep and gaping hole in the cliff face, diverted by some unseen mechanism Ezra had activated through the Force. 

PZ-5’s blank face somehow managed to look stunned.  “Sir…it’s a cave.” Ezra gazed at the dripping, jagged entrance above them. It resembled nothing other than the gaping maw of a huge, wolf-like creature.  Stone stairs cut into the cliff face led upward into its darkness. 

Ezra’s stomach knotted with eagerness, and a hint of foreboding. This time, I’m going in prepared. 

Thrawn 4 ABY 

Thrawn waited patiently while his orders were carried out to the letter. The Chimaera’s tractor beam hauled in a small, derelict asteroid, then anchored it in place near the outer hull of the starship’s main cargo hold.  The unimpressive hunk of rock had been hurtling through the outer regions of a system known as Kkantu according to the surviving records of its massacred inhabitants. 

The retrieval team carefully extracted the Republic era beacon found lodged in the asteroid, sterilizing the slim device before bringing it aboard the Star Destroyer. The team deposited the beacon in Thrawn’s office, then reluctantly departed.  Thrawn had no intentions of allowing anyone else to view the beacon’s data before he analyzed it first. 

Thrawn found the decryption code easily enough.  After all, the Republic had become the Empire, so retained prior codes within the Imperial database, whether or not they were still actively used. Curious to see if this message in a bottle would prove worthy of its retrieval, Thrawn activated the data cube. 

The holographic image of an aging Clone War trooper took shape. Thrawn couldn’t see much of the clone’s surroundings, but he appeared to be piloting a fighter craft of unknown alien design. 

“My original designation was CC-5675.  I am a defector of the Grand Army of the Republic. My chosen name is Sulis. I leave this message as an urgent warning for the Senate and the Jedi--or whatever entity may now oversee the civilized galaxy.”  The clone paused, gathering his thoughts. “It is imperative that the Senate heed my words. Do not disregard me because I chose to leave a war that killed so many of my brothers and held no desirable future for any brothers who might survive.” 

Thrawn studied the clone’s heavily bearded face and pain-filled eyes. This soldier had sacrificed honor and duty to eke out a bleak existence in Wild Space.  In his last moments, the clone clearly sought to redeem himself. 

“Those Separatist clankers we fought by the thousands are a pitiful lot in comparison to the horde raging through these systems.  I don’t know much yet, except they came from outside our galaxy.  I suspect these artificial creatures wiped out whoever was foolish enough to create them in the first place.  What I do know is they are like no enemy I’ve ever faced.  Their only cause seems to be exterminating us organics like we’re a virus to be cleansed from our own galaxy.” 

Sulis paused to alter his craft’s course.  “I’m no Jedi like my former general, but my wife, H’ida…was a Force-sensitive healer.  She got part of a message to me before…before they massacred her and the entire settlement while I was off planet to trade wares.”   

The clone wiped his eyes with his blocky hands. “She said they seemed to despise the living for being part of the Force. It’s something they have no ability to understand or connect with--so they destroy what they can’t have.”   

Sulis pressed various buttons, arming his guns. In the tense silence, Thrawn’s mind filtered and stored every bit of information with growing excitement. I was right. It is not the Yuuzhan Vong.   

Sulis spoke again, his voice hard. “The worst part of her message was…these butchering clankers are only clearing the way for more of their kind.” 

The clone increasing his craft’s speed.  Thrawn absorbed the ominous words.  If this were indeed true, the threat was dire for any system this vanguard targeted.  Thrawn’s thoughts were disrupted as the clone shifted his holo recorder’s direction.  The image now revealed what lay outside CC-5675’s viewscreen. Thrawn’s body stiffened. 

A countless multitude of huge, metallic forms careened directly forward.  But these were not starships.  These streamlined entities were inorganic individuals: coldly glowing eyes topped their menacing, humanoid shapes. Every appendage bristled with weaponry. High intensity energy beams lashed the alien craft mercilessly.   

CC-5675’s voice rose in volume.  “I’m not going to make it back to Coruscant, obviously! But I’ll take out every bastard clanker I can!”  Accompanied by the clone trooper’s war cry, the small craft dove headlong into a dense cluster of the terrifying assailants.  The holographic image abruptly died out. 

Thrawn stared at the empty air, brooding.  He slowly realized his fists were clenched so tightly, he’d left nail marks in his blue palms.  Thrawn focused, relaxing his body and mind, allowing his calculations to flow.  One thing was clear. He had no doubt the Vong and this vanguard would take immense pleasure in decimating each other. However, it was far too risky to lure the vanguard toward the Unknown Regions.  He would have to find a way to lure the Vong to Wild Space.  Not only would his strategy remove the immediate threat to the Chiss Ascendancy, but the Vong would throw themselves against the vanguard…and whatever was following in the vanguard’s wake. 

We must reconnect with the inner galaxy at all costs. Too much was at stake. 

Kanan 1 BBY 

Kanan now hovered in the dark night some distance from the Jedi Temple, sickened by the sight of its precious arts and knowledge laid out on the ground like butchered meat from a kill. 

Yet, he was more concerned about Hera.  She was uncharacteristically fragile, so fearful of losing Ezra and Sabine to the Emperor she wanted to abort the mission.  Instinctively, Kanan reached out to lend his strength and support.  For the first time, Hera’s hand reached upward, her fingers intertwining with his.   She can feel my presence!  Every part of Kanan radiated his confidence, his love.  Hera, I’m here with you. I know the kids can do this. Have faith.  Under his touch, Hera relaxed. 

Kanan watched alongside Hera and Zeb while Ezra and Sabine stealthily examined the magnificent Temple painting to decipher it and open the Gate.  Sabine’s capture by the minister was a very dicey moment, but Ezra managed to enter the portal.  Kanan attempted to follow—and was yanked back by Dume like a Loth-kitten by its neck. 

STAY. 

Ow. Fine.  Kanan’s prior visions had been hazy about what lay in store for his padawan, but he’d guided Ezra on this mission knowing inside the Temple existed a chance to save Ahsoka from Vader on Malachor.  If rescued, Ahsoka would be a powerful ally to help protect Ezra and the Temple against the Emperor. She’s certainly more skilled at combat than me.  

For now, Kanan contented himself with supporting Hera and Zeb’s rescue of Sabine. Not that those two need much help.  In typical Ghost family style, Sabine escaped from the minister with Hera and Zeb in the nick of time to help Ezra close the Gate. It was unclear what happened with Ahsoka, but Kanan felt only gratitude for Ezra’s safe return.  Kanan both sensed and shared Ezra’s deep regret the Temple must be destroyed, but it was the only way to keep power hungry Palpatine out of the Temple’s pathways through time and space.  As the Temple’s energy exploded around them, Kanan called upon Dume to help him shield his family.  The Imperials…well, they weren’t so lucky. 

Before Ezra lost consciousness, Kanan channeled love, strength and calm to boy who’d long ago become far more than a padawan to him. The Force will be with you. Always. 

And rejoiced to know Ezra heard him.

Ezra 4 ABY 

Carefully treading the last treacherous step, Ezra entered the cave, his movements hampered by his heavy stormtrooper armor and helmet.  Behind him, PZ-5 carried a pack filled with bacta wraps.  

Moisture pitter-pattered everywhere, fed by the mist from the waterfall’s parted curtain outside. “Look, PeeZee.” Ezra walked toward the back of the dark cave where deep carvings in the rock glowed with the eerie light of phosphorous microorganisms. He removed his helmet, eyes glittering with excitement. 

The array of primal, geometric shapes created three large, bipedal figures, all wearing headdresses decorated in an alien, amphibious style. The hand on the female figure to the left was open to the sky. The tallest, central figure faced forward, his webbed hands stretched out to either side. The figure to the right pointed his closed fist at the ground. 

Ezra’s breath escaped him.  “It is a Gate.”  PZ-5 eyed the stone carvings blankly. 

“A gate, sir? I see a wall.”  Ezra grinned at the droid. 

“Let’s see which one of us is right.” Ezra stood next to the female figure, then placed his gloved hand on the softly glowing stone hand that stretched upward to the sky.  

The bioluminescence intensified, outlining all the figures with eerie light.  Ezra moved away, watching intently while the female lowered her hand and faced the central figure.  He raised his outstretched arms high overhead.  Ezra heard faint voices speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.  Outside, the roar of the waterfall shifted in tone. 

On the right side of the cave, a paper-thin sheet of water cascaded from the ceiling mere inches from the wall, creating a continuous, transparent curtain.  The water at the bottom flowed along the stone floor to spill out the cave entrance.   In the cave wall behind the sheet of water, phosphorous light grew brighter and brighter.  It formed the shape of a serpentine, amphibious creature with wolf-like jaws. 

Ezra and PZ-5 watched in fascination while the glowing creature circled faster and faster. Its arc of light reflected in the water’s transparent curtain.  Finally, the creature’s wolf-jaws clamped down on its own tail, creating a wavering, glowing circle within the thin sheet of watery curtain.   

“I…I don’t understand,” droned PZ-5.  “Is it a gate, or isn’t it?”  

“It’s a portal, PeeZee, to a place I don’t really have time to explain right now. What I do need you to understand is this:  If I don’t come out of there within three Lothalian rotations, you’re to use the shuttle’s cannons and destroy this cave and everything around it.” 

The droid practically staggered.  “What? But why, Master Ezra?” 

“Because Thrawn and his Imperial cronies can’t know about this place. Once I’m gone, what you’re going to do first is secretly record all the symbols in this cave and the ones outside with the tableau.  Then you’ll take the shuttle to our original coordinates and complete the mission. If Thrawn calls in, you tell him everything is fine, and we’ll rejoin the Chimaera shortly. Got that?” 

“But…I…yes…” 

“And if I don’t come out in three rotations, you’ll tell him I attempted to Force connect with some very large Ja’Ghar carnivores, only I must have insulted them because I wound up as dinner.” 

“What large carnivores, exactly, sir?” 

“Trust me, they’re out there.” He patted his pike hilt.  “Be glad you’re a droid.”  Ezra took the big pack away from PZ-5 and hoisted it onto his back. 

“I still don’t understand why you must enter this portal, sir.” 

“PeeZee, this is a mission I was given about five years ago, but I couldn’t complete it then. It wasn’t the right time.  But now I think the Force has given me a second chance. If I don’t try, I’m not sure I can live with myself.”  Ezra smiled softly at PZ-5. “Hey, don’t look so glum.  I made it back the last time I did this on Lothal.” 

“I…will miss you if you don’t return, Master Ezra.” 

Ezra fondly patted the droid’s shoulder. “You’ve been a trusted friend to me, PeeZee. As a friend, I hope you’ll do me one more favor.” 

“I would be honored.” 

“If anyone can get the Chimaera back home, it’s Grand Admiral Thrawn.  But if I’m no longer aboard, it’s urgent that you find my friends, Ahsoka Tano and Sabine Wren. Tell them all the times we’ve shared together, everything we’ve discovered about the invaders.  But the most important thing you must tell Ahsoka and Sabine is that I found this Temple.  Show them your secret recordings. Tell them I did it for Kanan.  And Hera.  Only they can safely know, and only they will understand.  Do you promise?” 

PZ-5 nodded solemnly.  “I promise, Master Ezra.”  Ezra nodded solemnly in return. 

“Thank you, my friend.” Ezra’s face lit up with a smile. “Remember, I plan to be back. For now, enjoy playing spy droid. I know how much you like it.” 

PZ-5 waggled a finger at him. “I cannot argue with you on that point.” 

Ezra put his helmet back on, settled his pack.  He gently pushed his gloved hand through the sheet of water, felt the portal give under his touch. “See you soon, PeeZee.” And then Ezra slipped through the glowing circle…and vanished. 

PZ-5 stared, processing. “It is indeed a gate.” The swirling serpentine figure slowed to a stop but stayed aglow. “Very well. Now commencing recordings and Lothalian rotation countdown.” 

Inside the portal, Ezra found himself in an interdimensional place almost identical to the one he’d explored in the Lothal Temple.  Both strange and familiar voices echoed around him while he walked the twisting pathways.  There were differences.  The pathways rose and fell much more steeply, more frequently circling upside down.  Ezra had no trouble falling off, everything around him shifted to his own perspective. The portals were more primitive in design, some vaguely disturbing. Other dimly lit portals made Ezra’s skin crawl as he walked by. 

How do I find the portal to Kanan? He’d been avoiding this question as he’d grabbed his various supplies from the shuttle for the pack. The Daughter’s bird had guided him to Ahsoka.  The portal to Kanan before had only been a trap set by the Emperor, one that Ezra had barely avoided thanks to Ahsoka’s intervention. Well, now the Emperor’s dead. He can’t try that again. 

Ezra searched the surrounding starfield, searching for the Wolf constellation.  He was surprised to find it in the “sky” much farther back.  He didn’t recall seeing it earlier. He turned back, walking faster.  At least it will be closer to my exit. Ezra listened more carefully, ears tuned to the distinctive sound of Kanan among the echoing voices. And then Ezra heard it, deep and soft. 

Nobody ever pays enough attention to the world around them. 

The voice came from a portal with artwork on top that reminded Ezra of the Lothalian cave paintings.  It was a small figure, likely a child, surrounded by radiating lines.  The circle of the portal itself depicted the open jaws of a very large wolf.  Okay, I get it, this has to be the one.  But something inside him now hesitated to proceed. Ezra knew Kanan’s sacrifice would be worthless if he was pulled away before the gunship was hurled to safety. Everyone on board would die in the explosion, and Ezra wouldn’t even exist to be here now. And if Kanan didn’t die, his spirit--his will--wouldn’t have been able to guide Ezra via Dume through those three days to ensure the Jedi Temple disappeared from the Emperor. I told PeeZee I know what to do now. But do I really? Was it the Force at work here, or his own wishful thinking for a second chance? 

The future, by its nature, can be changed.  

Ezra froze. He recognized that immortal voice. It was the Son from the Gate.  It had been this same voice who asked Ezra not so long ago:  Is your master truly dead? But, if the Son was guiding him now instead of the Daughter…was it a good thing?  The Son represented the Dark side.  And yet…if the Force was balanced between Light and Dark, and needed both to exist…was the Dark innately evil?  After all, the Son spoke through his “nature channel.”  In Ezra’s experience, most of nature and its animals, including more sentient creatures like the Loth-wolves and purrgil, did not seem to exist for one side of the Force over another.  If they were part of the balance, didn’t it stand to reason he must be tapping into both Light and Dark to communicate with them? 

Is your master truly dead?  The voice and its question echoed again around Ezra.  But what Ezra sensed was the Light had opened a portal on Lothal…and now the Dark wanted its turn here on Ja’Ghar.  A balance.  If this meant Kanan could be saved like Ahsoka, so be it.  And with that thought, Ezra’s mind cleared, and he realized that he had known all along exactly what to do.  Ezra set down his pack, opening it to pull out the bacta wraps.  He adjusted his helmet, gloves, and armor, making sure everything was secure.  

He stood before the portal, reaching out calmly with his mind. If this is the will of the Force, you will open.

The circular wolf mouth began to glow, brighter and brighter.  Inside the portal, intense heat and flames.  And just visible through the inferno, Ezra could see Kanan from behind.  His master had already turned his face toward the gunship, one hand stretched to hold back Hera, the other splayed before Ezra to keep the intense fire at bay.

Ezra didn’t need to see Kanan’s face.  This scene was burned into his memory forever.  In just a moment, the Force would fill Kanan so completely, its healing energy would regenerate his milky eyes to blue-green. That healing power should protect Kanan  enough from what Ezra was about to do. But he had to wait, just a moment longer…wait for Kanan to turn completely… to shove away the gunship.  And in that next fraction of a second, if Kanan slumped, it meant he’d projected his consciousness outward before the explosion could ignite his body with agony…Yes! There he goes--NOW!!!  

Ezra grabbed Kanan through the portal, the intense, raging inferno searing his gloves and armor.  Ignoring the pain, Ezra yanked Kanan’s inert body back into the interdimensional realm, out of time and space.  Heat and light and fire blasted, then the portal closed.  Ezra fought unconsciousness, calling upon the Force for strength. With shaking hands, Ezra lay Kanan on the pathway, then clumsily cocooned Kanan’s singed body in bacta wraps.  Gently wrapping Kanan’s head and scorched fringes of hair, Ezra managed a weak smile. “Good thing you already shaved most of that off.”  

Ezra dragged off his helmet, grimacing at the agony in his hands.  He slowly peeled off his damaged gloves and armor, relieved to find none of it melted to his skin.  Wrapping the remaining bacta wraps around his lower arms and hands, Ezra sank back with a shaky sigh. He let the soothing mixture ease the worst of the pain. Kanan remained unmoving next to him, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only proof he was still alive.  

Ezra unwrapped the fingers of his right hand to carefully open the lid of Kanan’s nearest eye.  Vivid teal stared back at him.  Ezra felt tears well, and he gently closed Kanan’s lid.  He rewrapped his hand, then completely broke down into sobs of relief.  A nagging part of his mind reminded him:  Kanan still needs his essence back.  What if he can’t find his body? Ezra shoved that away, giving thanks to the Force for his success so far.  He whispered a thank you to the Son as well.  

Ezra realized he had no way of knowing how much time was passing in the outside world. Perhaps it had been one Lothalian rotation already.  And he needed to get Kanan into a bacta tank as soon as possible.  Then, scattered through the intermittent voices always echoing in the World Between Worlds, Ezra suddenly heard Zeb say, “What do you mean gone?” 

Listen.  Ezra emptied his mind, reaching out.  “I thought we had more time.” Hera.  

And then it was Sabine, “I agree with you, but only because we can’t let that thing track us back to our base.” 

“It talks with its eyes.” Zeb again. 

And so their voices periodically faded in and out, giving Ezra clues as to how much time was passing.  It also reminded him how greatly he missed them all. With a weary start, he realized he better move Kanan to the Ja’Gharian portal before time ran out and PZ-5 blew the cave apart. 

Ezra’s hands had recovered enough to heave Kanan up.  He dragged Kanan by walking backward; it was ungainly, hard work, with Kanan’s bootheels trailing behind on the twisting pathways.  Right now, I sure wish you were a lot shorter, Master.  Ezra stopped for a rest every now and again, listening intently for the voice clues.  When the Ja’Gharian portal came into view, Ezra hauled Kanan with renewed energy. 

Several steps away from the portal, he heard Sabine say, “That one! The Son!”  Ezra frantically pulled Kanan along.  It was almost the third dawn on Lothal, and Ezra’s time was running out. 

“The Force will be with you. Always.” Kanan. Time was speeding up! Ezra winced in pain, fumbling as he almost dropped Kanan. 

“He’s gone now, isn’t he? I mean, really gone.” Hera’s sad, resigned voice echoed around him. Ezra toppled backwards through the portal, yanking Kanan along with him.  As the duo hit the cold and wet stone floor…the cave began to shake. Recharged by the sheet of chilly water, Ezra blinked upwards to see the circling serpentine creature slow and dim as the bioluminescence in the cave wall behind died out.  The cave shuddered harder. 

“No, PeeZee, not yet!”  But Ezra’s commlink had been fried with his armor.  The sheet of water cut off like a closed faucet.  Desperate, Ezra Force-pushed Kanan’s body along the slippery wet floor as gently as he could.  “Sorry, Kanan!”  Ezra stumbled toward the cave entrance, shouting wildly.  He stuck his head out of the entrance, the bright sunshine hurting his eyes.  “PeeZee, stop!!”  Except, there was no attacking shuttle outside.  Ezra saw the Lambda parked at a distance, the engines starting to fire.  Ezra waved his arms desperately…and sagged with relief as PZ-5 waved back from the cockpit. 

But the shaking was still intensifying.  All the figures on the back wall went ominously dark. Why is this happening? I didn’t close the Gate. And then it hit him. I pulled Kanan out of a different portal.  Ahsoka hadn’t come with Ezra back on Lothal for her own reasons. Well, a little heads up from the Son would have been nice!  Too late for that now. The groan of rock sliding on rock disrupted his thoughts. The waterfall curtains started to cascade inward.  Ezra grabbed Kanan--and jumped off the cliff, splashing into the foaming water below.  Still underwater, he dragged Kanan along, headed for the surface as far as possible from the incoming torrent.  Ezra broke the surface, gasping for air.   

“Master Ezra! Are you all right?” PZ-5 had hustled to the shoreline.  Ezra plowed through the water, keeping Kanan’s head above water. I sure hope he’s still breathing.  How ironic to save his master from fire only to drown him instead!  Behind them, the jagged spires of the Temple collapsed inward, chunks flying.  Ezra Force-blocked a few smaller particles that plummeted directly at them.  By then, PZ-5 reached out and Ezra shoved Kanan into her arms. “PeeZee—meet Kanan Jarrus!” The perplexed droid goggled, managing a nod.

“We must get up the ramp immediately, sir!”  Ezra PZ-5 propped the blissfully unconscious Jedi master between them.  Several of the bantha wraps hung loose, fluttering as the trio escaped up the ramp of the shuttle.    

Inside the cockpit, Ezra leapt into the pilot seat, launching the shuttle skyward in a steep turn just as the Ja’Ghar Temple blew its top like a water-filled volcano. The shuttle barely missed the tremendous flood of water and rocky debris.  It soared up and away, spattered with mud and droplets. 

Kanan 1 BBY 

Kanan hovered, watching Ezra and Hera where they stood in the distance, surrounded by barren, beautiful landscape where the Jedi Temple once stood.  Next to Kanan, shrouded in the misty light, was the white Loth-wolf. It glanced from Kanan to the others, silently waiting.  For what? 

Feeling uneasy, Kanan tried to move closer to embrace the two,  but the relentless tugging increased dramatically.  And there was no responding anchor against it from Dume. 

WE MUST GO. 

No!  Let me stay. They could finally feel me, hear me. 

STAY AND VANISH.  OR GO TOGETHER. 

And then, with an undertone of respect:  YOUR CHOICE. 

All this time since the explosion, Kanan had felt himself pushed and pulled, fighting upstream to accomplish what his will had desired.  Yet, here his family was. Safe. And he sensed Hera and the others were going to be okay…or as okay as any war would ever let a family be.   

Dume said it was his choice, but Kanan decided it would be their choice.  Like the white wolf, he waited.  In the distance, Hera gently touched her shoulder. “He’s gone now, isn’t he?  I mean, really gone.”  Kanan twisted inward, barely hearing anything again until Ezra’s voice cut through with its reluctant resignation. 

“Goodbye, Kanan.” 

Kanan hung there in the dawn’s light for a moment.  He expected to feel sorrow wash over him, but their ultimate acceptance eased an inner ache he didn’t even know he’d had.  Did he really want to remain here, not even a ghost of himself?  If they could accept his departure, so could he.  

Whatever Dume or the Cosmic Force now needed of him--if anything--he would do it.  His time here was complete, and Kanan let go with simple gratitude for all the love he’d been able to share with those whose time had not yet come.  

Beside him, the white Loth-wolf melted away into the rising sun.  And Kanan’s consciousness abruptly tumbled and spun, released from Lothal to spin faster and faster into a blazing kaleidoscope of time and space--- 

--Bright light, so bright it hurt to look. Kanan squinted, his eyes desperately working to focus. He was floating, floating in…a bacta tank?  He convulsed reflexively, sucked air through the respirator, almost gasping as his startled heart kicked into overdrive.  Through the thick liquid, he could hear alarms sounding. Suddenly, intense blue eyes pressed up to the tank wall.  A young man with dark hair, a goatee, and a growing smile on his face.  Ezra. 

“Kanan?” Ezra’s eyes widened and he placed both hands on the permasteel glass, the closest thing to a hug he could give. Ezra’s thoughts were written all over his face: Kanan is…Kanan! 

Feeling trapped in the tank, Kanan called upon the Force to center himself with peace and calm.  It wasn’t easy.  Intense emotions seared through him like the inferno that had taken—nearly taken—his life. Kanan had presumed all along it was the Cosmic Force tugging away on him, but it had turned out to be his own not-so-dead body.  Leave it to Dume to keep him in the dark about the Force granting him a second chance.  Then again, maybe Dume hadn’t wanted to raise false hopes.  Ezra had succeeded despite almost impossible odds.  

Kanan would be with Hera again. And he’d be staying on that Kalikori.  He would finally meet their child, be a father.  Kanan was returning to everyone and everything he loved. On top of all these miracles, he’d been restored the gift of sight.  Salty tears blended with the fluid surrounding him.  And then the med droid injected a solution, sinking Kanan into a deep healing sleep. 

Ezra and Thrawn 4 ABY 

Thrawn paced his office, striving for calm, but these were certainly the most unusual of circumstances. 

“Commander Bridger, how does a Jedi Knight who died five years ago—in an explosion that derailed my TIE Defender program, I might add--wind up in my ship’s bacta tank out on the edges of Wild Space?”  Before Ezra could speak, Thrawn snapped out, “And why should I let him stay in it?” 

Thrawn’s eyes flamed so red, Ezra almost expected them to catch fire.  Ezra folded his arms, finding himself abnormally peaceful. 

“I actually have a question for your first, Grand Admiral.  Do you ever wonder why the purrgil dumped us out here together?” 

“What does that have to do with my inquiry? You know full well you deceived those weak-minded creatures into doing your Rebel warfare. “  

“I had zero mind control over them or where they brought us. I’m sure you’ve noticed they haven’t come back.”  Now Thrawn’s glare turned icy.  Ezra shrugged his shoulders. 

“So here we are…by the will of the Force, not so conveniently discovering a huge threat to the galaxy.” Ezra held up his hand to hold off a retort from Thrawn.  “And also through the will of the Force, a ‘poorly trained child’—that would be me--pulled Kanan through time and space thanks to a convenient space anomaly right where where PZ-5 and I happened to be.” 

Thrawn stopped pacing. “I don’t believe a word of your ‘space anomaly’ explanation, Bridger. It is absolutely ludicrous and entirely undocumented.”  

“Fine. Then I’ll stop talking about it.  You can’t deny my master is here and very much alive. It seems very obvious to me the Force thinks the galaxy—and you—need Kanan and me back together.  Don’t tell me you can’t find an efficient use for two Jedi in those big plans you’re cooking up to wow the Chiss Ascendancy.” 

Thrawn’s eyes penetrated Ezra for a very long moment.  Ezra could almost see the wheels within wheels turning.  

“Oh, indeed I can.”  Thrawn’s lips curved ever so slightly.  “And I will.” He gestured at the door. Dismissed. 

Ezra turned to leave, then a thought occurred to him.  “You don’t happen to have any other lightsa—” Thrawn cut in smooth as silk. 

“Kanan Jarrus will have to earn it first.” 

Ezra departed, feeling a bit less peaceful. Perhaps substantially less peaceful. 

Kanan 4 ABY 

Kanan rested quietly in the medical bay, still adjusting to not being dead while savoring the visual details of everything around him.  Even the bossy XT-92 med droid didn’t annoy him too much.  Some areas of his skin needed further healing, but most had returned to its light russet brown color. 

Closing his eyes, he could still tune in his highly developed Force-sight. He’d need to actively use it to make sure his advanced abilities didn’t weaken.  He looked up as Ezra came in, clutching a cup of caf.  “Sorry…I’d get you some, but that hovering droid won’t allow it.”   

“I think saving my life today pretty much makes up for it.” Kanan’s mouth quirked.  

Ezra plopped down next to Kanan’s bed with a sigh, his blue eyes darkened with shadows. “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure I’ve done you any favors, Kanan. We’re stuck out here with Thrawn, one step behind a new enemy that could shred this ship like a rabid Loth-wolf.“ 

“Ezra. Being here--even for a moment--to see the man you’ve become…it’s worth any danger.”   

Ezra ducked his head, cheeks flushed.  Kanan gripped Ezra’s forearm, feeling the Force resonate between them.  “Always remember. We are the balance, Ezra. We are supposed to be here now. Where Lothal needs us most.” 

Ezra lifted his gaze back to Kanan, brightening again.  “Yes, Master.” 

Kanan’s lips curved.  “You know, I’d say you’ve grown waaay past the apprentice stage.” 

“Are you saying…you’re no longer my Master?” Ezra’s brow furrowed. 

“More like I’m sensing the Force reunited us to become a new kind of team.  We’ll just have to figure it out as we go along—like we’ve always done.”   

Ezra’s thoughtful expression eased into a teasing smile.  “Well, don’t get too bossy about it. You’re not all that much older than me anymore.”  Ezra’s grin widened.  “I just realized—won’t you be a little younger than Hera now?” 

Hera. Kanan’s heart swelled with an almost unbearable longing to hold her--and their five-year-old!--tightly in his arms and never let go. He forced the lump in his throat down with a laugh. “And I look forward to reminding her of that every day.” 

Ezra’s grin slipped away.  “I wish I could tell you when we’ll make it home.”  The unspoken if we’ll make it home hung silently between the two Jedi.   

Kanan sighed deeply, then his somber expression shifted into his signature smirk. “Hey, at least it’ll give me time to grow my hair out.” 

Lothal 4 ABY 

Jacen Syndulla skipped along the beach, trailing behind his mother and Aunt Sabine. The sea lapped gently against the sand and stonier outcroppings.  Jacen zigzagged among scattered debris washed up by yesterday’s unusually fierce storm, searching for pirate treasures hidden in the kelp and rocks.  Hondo will be so jealous!  The breeze blew Jacen’s bright green bangs into his eyes and he flipped his hair aside with a grin. Although sometimes he wished he had long, curving lekku like Grandfather Cham, Jacen felt nothing but pride whenever anyone said he looked like his father.  I’m the son of a Jedi Knight. 

“Jacen, don’t run off too far,” Mama called out. She and Aunt Sabine stood looking back at a gleaming, spiral form that stretched into the blue sky.  Mama had explained Aunt Sabine worked with others on the City Council to build a memorial to Lothal’s freedom from the Empire.  They’d come for a few rotations to join other family and friends for the grand opening.  Jacen liked any excuse to visit Aunt Sabine.  She told great stories about all her explosive adventures. Plus, there was supposed to be a huge party. 

“Okay, Mama!” Jacen really did mean to obey her this time, but then he saw huge Loth-wolf prints in the damp sand.  He knew immediately those led to something exciting.  Making sure Mama’s pretty face was turned away, Jacen dashed off. Oh, yeah, he’d have plenty to tell Hondo later today. 

Jacen followed the tracks around a mound of sea-rusted permasteel.  I bet this is from the dome that got blown up in the sky.  That was one of his favorite stories, especially when Uncle Zeb told it.  But right now, he was more interested in the pit the Loth-wolf had dug.  Avoiding all the piled-up sand, Jacen slipped into the damp hole. And landed on a storage container. It was pretty banged up, but still shut tight.  I wonder what’s inside?  Jacen lay his hand against the lock.  He closed his eyes…and reached out with his mind to open it. 

Huddled together in private conversation, Hera and Sabine didn’t see the feisty five-year-old disappear behind the washed-up wreckage.  “Truthfully, I’m not sure what to do, Sabine.  Just the other day, Jacen managed to lock Zeb and Kallus in the cargo hold.  About five minutes after I left.”   

Sabine stifled a smile. “I’m pretty sure Chopper played a role in that.” Hera managed a wan chuckle. 

“But he’s always knowing things he shouldn’t, getting into places and things that should be beyond him.” 

Sabine gestured at the Liberation of Lothal spire. “You have to admit, his parents happen to be well known troublemakers.”  The two women shared a wry grin before Hera’s expression tightened again. 

“I know. But now that’s Jacen’s getting older, the safest thing seems to send him to stay with the other Force sensitive younglings. He could learn from Luke…but then I’d hardly see him.” Hera’s graceful hands clenched.  “I’m just not ready for that.” 

Sabine eyed Hera with concern. “Are Jacen’s Force abilities becoming a danger to himself or others?”  Hera sighed. 

“He got teased again the other day for not looking Twi’lek enough. Jacen didn’t hurt the boy…but he did Force push the toy they were arguing about hard enough to stick in the wall.”  Hera’s lekku slumped. “If only Kanan or Ezra were here to teach him.” 

“Hera, there may be other options.” Sabine tried to contain her excitement. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Ahsoka Tano is returning soon.” 

“Ahsoka’s coming back? That’s, that’s…welcome news” Hera smiled, recalling the Togruta with both fond and bitter memories. “But she’s not a Jedi anymore, is she?” 

Sabine planted her hands on her hips. “Hera, she’s a Force wielder…Surely, she can at least offer some useful advice about Jacen.” Sabine did not add before Ahsoka and I go looking for Ezra.  She would share that significant news with Hera and the others later. 

“Yes, of course, you’re right, Sabine.” Hera squeezed Sabine’s shoulder. “Speaking of my son, where did that little Loth-rat go?”  Hera and Sabine scanned around, calling out Jacen’s name.  Hera now spied the Loth-wolf paw prints leading away. “Jacen!” 

Distant movement caught Sabine’s eye and she pointed. “There he is, he just jumped on top of that wreckage.”  She and Hera rushed toward Jacen, relief on their faces. 

Hera beckoned imperiously. “Jacen Caleb Syndulla, you get down from there before you fall through!” 

Jacen waved back from his precarious perch with a gap-toothed grin. Then, he ignited the lightsaber upraised in his hand.  The brilliant blue blade stopped Hera and Sabine in their tracks. “Is that Kanan’s…?” Sabine’s voice choked up. 

Hera’s own voice tried to scream, cry and laugh at the same time. “Jacen?!”  Her legs unfroze, and she raced across the last of the sand just as Jacen jumped down with a flourish of the humming blade.  

He switched off the lightsaber, placing it obediently in Hera’s commanding hand. “Better put it somewhere safe, Mama.” Jacen looked off into a distance only he could see and smiled. “I think Daddy’s going to need it back.”

  sdlocked0 Tabl

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 14. The mental and physical settings

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2k

— A/N: I'm back again! This chapter immediately follows the previous one, and a plot is forming in this lady's head. She just needs to convince Feyd to play along 😅 Enjoy reading, my dears! 💗

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs @mrsjobarnes

What social inheritances went outward with the Scattering? We know those times intimately. We know both the mental and physical settings. The Lost Ones took with them a consciousness confined mostly to manpower and hardware. There was a desperate need for room to expand driven by the myth of Freedom. — The Scattering: Bene Gesserit Analysis

She found Feyd by following the troops. He was in the command room, pacing along a shivering holo-map. The mentats, relieved of their posts, were muttering among themselves in sparse syllables in the back of the room. They turned quiet when she entered.

“You,” said Feyd, calling her to him with a curl of his pale finger. “Come here.”

“Yes, my lord na-Baron?”

“You remember that advice you gave me once?”

She did… She suggested he pull back the attacks, just enough to bait the Fremen into exposing themselves. “Yes,” she answered as she stopped beside him, her hands folded at her lap.

“I don’t suppose you have a follow-up plan in the event that it worked?”

“I’m glad to hear my words bore fruit.”

“Don’t try to be funny,” he grumbled.

“I’m not.”

“We’re about to send in an echelon of 60 units but the scouts we sent ahead never returned.”

“Then it might be a bad idea to send in the echelon.”

“But we can’t just leave them there,” said Feyd, pacing up and down the length of the long holo-map.

She stepped softly behind him, watching the way his shoulders tensed beneath the pauldrons, the trembling in his spine, his restless legs.

“They would’ve gone in knowing the risk. If they’re lost, they —”

“I mean the Fremen,” he growled. “We can’t let them think they can crawl across Arrakis whenever they please, not anymore.”

Her instinct was to advise against it. It was not in Feyd’s interest to conquer Arrakis, not really. He was just trying to please his uncle, she realised, which was why he was so tense, so scared even with an army all around him. But there was no use trying to explain that to him. It would be too blunt, too clumsy, and have the opposite effect. Feyd, in spite of what he claimed, desired a gentler hand.

“Why not post new scouts?” she offered, walking to his side. “Feign retreat and follow these rogue Fremen. See where they come from, where they hide. Then, you might eliminate the lot.”

“They live in colonies, like vermin,” said Feyd, shaking his head. “They could slip through underground tunnels to fuck knows where.”

She cast her eyes over the map, its surface bending in thin threads of light. Behind her, she could feel the stares of the Harkonnens, all of them suspicious of a ‘witch’ and unhappy to see her at their na-Baron’s side, but too scared to speak.

“I still think it would be pointless to strike at them impulsively,” she said. “If you never know how many occupy the planet, how can you plan for further attacks? How can you calculate the cost of the reserves and equipment you’ll need? How can you forecast economic costs or surplus? Even your mentats could tell you how futile it is to engage in large-scale combat in these circumstances.”

“Which is why I’m not asking a mentat,” he hissed, cold eyes sliding to her.

She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “You say they are like vermin… They do behave more like the Arrakis wildlife... But they have the reasoning abilities of any conscious being. They are trying to wait you out, encircle you, pick away at you, and use what they have available to them — which is the environment, and specialised information… You must cut off at least one.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the table. “Any other advice you can offer? Try something a little more vague this time.”

She treated him with a cold look yet couldn’t help but smile. He was endearing when he was acting like a bratty little boy.

“You could make the environment less recognisable to them. Cut off their usual pathways, destroy, construct, expand. Or… you could find out the information they keep from you, such as what their true numbers are, where they hide, how they use spice, how they use worms, what technology —”

“They’re savages, they don’t have technology.”

“Everyone has technology. Especially people who can survive in a place like this.”

She could tell Feyd wanted to say something sarcastic again, but instead, he turned his gaze upon the map and thought about what she said.

“Sir?” mumbled one of the men behind him, a commander by his uniform. “What should we tell the troops?”

“Send more scouts,” said Feyd at last, turning away from the map and putting distance between them with long strides. “Would be stupid to risk our numbers blindly.”

“Yes, sir.”

She followed him quietly out of the room and allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. He’d actually listened to her… Perhaps saving herself from that cursed planet wasn’t so unlikely after all, and she might even save him too.

“Do you want to have dinner together?” she asked, falling in step with him.

“You’re not protecting them, are you?”

“Who?”

“The Fremen.”

“No,” she frowned. “Why would I protect them?”

He didn’t answer, but his silence spoke. He was conscious of the difference between them — not only that between a Harkonnen and a Bene Gesserit, but that between a Harkonnen and anyone else. They were a House isolated by their culture, their toxic planet, even by their appearance… And so he naturally saw her as having more in common with the natives of Arrakis than with him.

“The sooner you defeat the Fremen, the sooner things normalise,” she quietly said. “But you can’t defeat them with brutal methods. Their whole culture was shaped by brutality.”

Feyd didn’t look at her as they walked together, swift and remote. “So you want things to relax enough that you can finally escape, is that it?”

She grew cold at his implication. Had she not indulged his every mood? Had she not forgiven him his aggressions, violations, absorbed them within herself to let them bloom? He was being an ungrateful boy — but he was not completely wrong.

“I know I can’t escape,” she said, somewhat resentfully. “No Guild transporter is going to come down here just for me, and I mean nothing to the Sisterhood. Nobody is coming to save me. But…”

“Yes?” he said, turning to look at her as they reached the dining room.

“But don’t you too want to escape from here?”

He scoffed. “I can’t escape. I rule this planet.”

“And, you don’t want to escape?”

He evaded her gaze and walked into the room, closing the wide doors behind them. The stomping of the troops became a distant echo. He kept her at a distance as he went to sit down and angrily rang the bell that called the servants in. She sat opposite him while they filled the table with small dishes carrying elegant meals, and poured the both of them tall glasses of water — enough for an Arrakeen family to live off of for a month. Feyd watched on with pale furrowed brows, and she watched him. She knew her words had woken something in him.

As soon as the servants were gone, she rested her wrists on the edge of the table and leaned forward.

“What did it mean to you, when I asked you that?”

“What?”

“When I asked if you wanted to escape.”

“It sounded like treason,” said Feyd, gazing from beneath his lashes as he cut into his food.

“It’s only a question.”

“It’s a suggestion. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s not a suggestion,” she said, leaning back and nearly slouching. “I can’t do anything on this planet without you.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “So is that why you want to escape? You don’t want to be mine anymore?”

“If that were so, why would I ‘suggest’ that you escape, too?” she countered with a smirk.

Feyd frowned at her again but kept on eating. He twirled his fork around a spread of moss, oily and black with stars of golden spice shining on its surface, and dragged it through a verdant sauce of pickled seaweed. He ate delicately, reminding her of how different he was from his uncle.

“If you were so upset with me because of it, you’d have killed me already,” she muttered, finally turning to her plate.

“Maybe I want to enjoy you one last time.”

She sighed. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me. You’re the one who wanted to know what I was thinking.”

“And this is it?” he asked, looking at her again. “You’ve been thinking of running away?”

It was tempting to say yes and be done with it, to bear the brunt of his anger, which was already bubbling to the surface. But she remained in her relaxed pose and brought a small morsel of food from her plate to her lips and let the fork linger between them.

“If I did, would you chase me?” she asked somewhat playfully.

And just as she expected, a flame flickered in Feyd’s eyes. Because he was a bratty little boy, and he liked playing, and he resented having to manage Arrakis when instead he could enjoy himself… The prestige in the eyes of his uncle mattered less and less to him each day, and no amount of tall glasses of water, however luxurious on that planet, were enough for him when there was a whole universe out there.

“Flirting won’t save you,” he managed to say.

“Are you suggesting I need to be saved?”

“I am.”

“From what?”

“From me.”

She smiled at him as she twirled her fork across her plate. “I would’ve thought it’s from this planet. Just like you.”

He sighed and tried to distract himself with drinking, gulping half the glass of water in one go. “I regret ever asking you about it,” said Feyd as he slammed it back down. “You’re just lucky I’m the one in charge here. Anyone else would’ve had your head cut off and hung you upside down to drain the blood for moisture.”

She could have chuckled if she didn’t think he’d take it the wrong way. Underneath his threats was a genuine concern and hurt at the mere suggestion of her leaving him one day. He couldn’t even look at her while he mumbled his threats. In fact, he’d never seemed more harmless.

But she was certain her words had set his imagination going, a welcome respite after the troubles of the day. She would have to be on her best behaviour that night to let his thoughts and feelings settle, to make him sweet toward her again, and bring him back to her. It wouldn’t be difficult, it never was.

Although he seemed not to enjoy it much, he finished his dinner, and she did too. And as they walked together to the bedroom they shared, shadows dancing on the walls, she wondered if the spice melange was playing tricks on her, making her dizzy and giddy and almost self-destructive around him. She had had too much that morning too, she recalled, and her meditations had been troubled afterwards. But if she was struggling, how must Feyd feel? He had less of a capacity to modulate poisons in his system… And yet he indulged in it. Perhaps he’d used so much that he’d gained a tolerance for it. He was more at ease after dinner than before it, but his eyes were darkened, his lips a little red, and when she took his armour off that night his skin felt hot and sticky.

Was he seeing things too, she wondered… Did he have the same sort of visions she had had — of white shores and crashing waves and pale sea spraying on his skin? He looked at her with the same sort of longing he did when he felt loneliness threatening him, as if he were at once in the comforting present, with her arms around him as she pulled him down to bed, and at the same time in a horrible future with all of its uncertainties.

“It’s alright,” she whispered as her warm hands cupped his cheek. He curled up by her side and laid his head down on her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

[terryblount]

Star Citizen will be free to play from November 23rd to November 30th + Star Citizen 3.3.5 screenshots

Cloud Imperium Games has announced that it will make the Star Citizen Alpha free to download and play for any player to celebrate the launch of Star Citizen’s first habitable planet, Hurston. Revealed at CitizenCon 2018, on October 10, Hurston is a massive planet encompassing thousands of kilometers of playable space, with more than five distinct biomes including cityscapes, savannahs, frigid tundra’s, mountains and coastal seascapes.

Lorville, the planet’s major city hub, will also be available to all players. In Lorville, players can expect to find a densely populated, living city, including the “New Deal” ship shop, the game’s in-game location for the buying of in-game ships with in-game currency.

To celebrate the launch of the game’s first planet, Cloud Imperium Games will launch a “Free Fly” event encompassing its stable of more than 80 flyable vehicles, from more than ten different manufacturers. This makes it free for anyone to create an account at www.RobertSpacesIndustries.com to download and play Star Citizen.

Within the game, each manufacturer will make its entire flyable inventory free for a 24 hour “Test Flight,” after which it will then be replaced by the inventory from another manufacturer. During the promotion, it will be free for anyone to join the Star Citizen Persistent Universe and play across not only Hurston and Lorville, but Star Citizen’s more than 30 varying mission types, 8 traversable moons, several “rest stops” and more. Players who accumulate in-game currency can use it to purchase additional ships, flyable until each server re-start.

Star Citizen Alpha 3.3.5 is currently available on PTU servers and our reader Sean has shared with us some screenshots that you can find below.

Star Citizen Alpha 3.3.5 includes numerous features launched in Alpha 3.3 including:

Object Container Streaming, a processing tool that controls how much of the game’s massive universe must be loaded by player’s CPU. Object Container Streaming is an important behind-the-scenes technical milestone that enables the rapid creation of future content and locations, including the Planet Hurston and its main city, Lorville. Object Container Streaming has led to massive performance gains, which can be seen on the newly launched Star Citizen Telemetry page.

‘Face and Voice over IP’ allows players to connect their webcams and control their in-game character’s facial expressions with their own, creating a new level of immersion never before seen in video games.

FPS AI Enemies and Missions to populate the universe with NPC enemies to hunt or be hunted by.

‘Scramble Race’ Missions for players to compete across Star Citizen’s massive planetary bodies.

Anyone who plays Star Citizen between November 23 and November 30 will enjoy access to the following Free Fly Schedule:

Nov 23 – Anvil Aerospace

Arrow: Agile fighter that packs a huge punch. A speedy glass cannon.

Gladiator: A ruggedly built two-person dive bomber.

Hornet F7C: Tough and dependable, the F7C is a multipurpose medium fighter.

Hornet F7C Wildfire: Special Edition of the F7C Hornet with custom livery and loadout geared for Arena Commander.

Hornet F7C-R – Tracker: Sacrificing a turret for an advanced radar dome, the Hornet Tracker seeks what is hidden.

Hornet F7C-S – Ghost: Stealthy, quiet, silent – the Ghost haunts an area by keeping a low profile.

Hornet F7C-M – Super Hornet: A two-seater multi-purpose medium fighter with a heavier loadout.

Hurricane: A heavy fighter with excessive loadout, including a turret that punches through shields and defenses.

Terrapin: Heavily armored ship with a sophisticated scanner, ideal for recon and exploration.

Valkyrie: A heavily armed multirole gunship and dropship.

Nov 24 – Roberts Space Industries

Aurora ES: A descendent of the X-7, this is the perfect choice for new ship owners. Versatile and intuitive.

Aurora LN: For the combat focused, the Aurora LN comes with bigger shields and larger weapons that pack a punch.

Aurora LX: The Aurora Deluxe, adding luxury and comfort for long stretches in the deep black.

Aurora MR: A balance of function and performance, the Aurora MR comes with cargo capacity and guns to ensure freight gets there safely.

Constellation Andromeda: A multicrew freighter with modular design, the RSI Andromeda is one of the most iconic ships in the verse.

Constellation Aquila: Exploring the stars and distant horizons, the redesigned cockpit offers max visibility with a rover and sensor suite to explore it all.

Constellation Phoenix: A chariot of the Gods, this converted luxury, high performance Constellation freighter is ideal for VIP transport.

Ursa Rover: Rugged, Durable and tough, this is the rover you need to explore a multitude of environments.

Nov 25 – Origin Jumpworks

300i: Travel in style with this high-performance sleek touring ship.

315p: Traverse the ‘verse with this high-performance exploration focused ship.

325a: Origin’s sleek signature fighter, the 325 makes a great companion for finding your mark in style and sophistication.

350r: Origin’s sleek signature racer, the 350 makes a great companion for leaving your peers in the dust.

600i Explorer: The luxury yacht of Star Citizen, designed to explore in comfort and style with a vehicle bay.

85X: A luxury and sporty short-range runabout for pilot and passenger.

M50: Origin’s premier racer, small, fast and highly agile.

Nov 26 – Aegis Dynamics

Avenger Stalker: A modified version of the Avenger, catering to bounty hunters with prison cells.

Avenger Titan: A former police ship with a cargo hold for light freight and courier abilities.

Avenger Titan Renegade: Special Edition of the Avenger Titan with custom livery and loadout geared for Arena Commander.

Avenger Warlock: A variant of the Avenger, armed with EMP generator to disable enemies.

Eclipse: A sleek stealth bomber, armed with heavy torpedoes.

Gladius: An aged but agile light fighter with mid-range armament.

Gladius Valiant: Special Edition of the Gladius with custom livery and loadout geared for Arena Commander.

Hammerhead: A multi-crew corvette bristling with manned turrets designed to counter fighters.

Reclaimer: A heavy deep space salvage vessel to reclaim wrecks and derelicts.

Retaliator Bomber: A long-range anti capital ship bomber, covered in turrets and capable of launching size 9 torpedoes.

Sabre: Favoring agility over durability, this ship is light, sleek and deadly.

Sabre Comet: Special Edition of the Sabre with custom livery and loadout geared for Arena Commander.

Vanguard Hoplite: Long-range Squad Dropship with a turret gunner.

Vanguard Warden: Long-range Heavy Fighter with a turret gunner.

Nov 27 – Drake Interplanetary

Buccaneer: A light fighter that sacrifices durability and an ejection seat for raw fire power.

Caterpillar: A heavy multicrew commercial freighter. Lightly armed, with superior cargo capacity.

Caterpillar Pirate: A heavy multicrew commercial freighter. Lightly armed, with superior cargo capacity and custom pirate livery.

Cutlass Black: Black is Back. Drakes multicrew Cutlass is highly versatile, with combat and cargo prowess.

Dragonfly Black: A two-seater grav-lev bike. Easily traverses rough terrain, or closes the distance in space.

Dragonfly Yellowjacket: A two-seater grav-lev bike. Easily traverses rough terrain or closes the distance in space with custom yellow livery.

Herald: No secret is safe, Drake’s Herald captures and stores information before leaving at blistering speed.

Nov 28 – Alien Manufacturers

Khartu-al: Enigmatic, exotic and agile. The fragile Khartu-al excels at lateral thrust and maneuverability.

Nox: Sleek and fast, this gravity bike slices across rough terrain. Perfect for scouting and racing.

Nox Kue: Sleek and fast, this gravity bike slices across rough terrain. Perfect for scouting and racing with a bespoke Silver paintjob.

Vanduul Glaive: This Alien medium fighter replica drives fear with it’s ramming blades.

Vanduul Blade: Armed and Dangerous. This alien fighter slices through the air with it’s agility and shreds its foes.

Nov 29 – Musashi Industrial and Starflight Concern

Freelancer: A multicrew cargo freighter, with turret and ordnance to deter those after it’s haul.

Prospector: A miner’s best friend, with a powerful mining laser and saddle bags to turn mineral to profit.

Razor: Cutting ahead of the competition, this sleek racer will give the others a run for pole position.

Razor EX: Stealth special edition of the Razor outfitted with signature-reducing materials and stealth components.

Razor LX: Special edition of the Razor features an overclocked engine, reduced maneuverability and armaments in exchange of straight-line speed.

Reliant Kore: A fusion of Xi’an and Human technology, this light freighter allows you to haul cargo with a friend.

Starfarer: Keep fleets on the move with this heavy refueler.

Starfarer Gemini: Keep fleets on the move with this heavy refueler, the Gemini version sacrifices capacity for armor and a missile launcher.

Nov 30 – Kruger/Argo/Tumbril/Consolidated Outland

Argo MPUV 1C: A small and unarmed utility runabout that transports cargo.

Argo MPUV 1P: A small unarmed utility runabout tuned to transport personnel.

Cyclone: Stir up a storm with this robust two-seater buggy that can carry a little something in the back.

Cyclone AA: This two-seater buggy with EMP functionality is armed with an anti-air missile launcher to deter threats from above.

Cyclone RN: Unveils the fog of war, the recon variant of the Cyclone is mounted with a powerful scanner array.

Cyclone TR: Support ground infantry with this combat variant, equipped with a mounted turret to provide cover fire for ground operations.

Mustang Alpha: Consolidated Outland’s premier ship for those wanting to push the limits a little more when starting out.

Mustang Beta: Home is where the heart is, the Beta offers comfortable living quarters for beginners roaming the frontier.

Mustang Delta: The Mustang Delta is armed with heavier weapons and rocket pods.

Mustang Gamma: Racing the competition? The additional engine loaded into the back will provide competitive the edge you need.

P-52 Merlin: Small, agile and comes with a sting. This snub fighter is fragile, but difficult to hit.

Star Citizen will be free to play from November 23rd to November 30th + Star Citizen 3.3.5 screenshots published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

[kp-reading-blog]

The Empathic Detective by Jaxon Reed is a Thrilling Sci-Fi Novel That Will Keep You Guessing

The Empathic Detective by Jaxon Reed is a Thrilling Sci-Fi Novel That Will Keep You Guessing. Check it out and see why it was picked as a Kindle Scout Novel and then pick up your copy today!

Praise for The Empathic Detective

"The futuristic elements and special powers gave a fresh breath to the police/detective genre!"

"Possibly the most unexpected twist I've ever read."

"I gave The Empathic Detective: A Mystery Thriller 5 well-deserved stars."

A Message from Jaxon Reed

I'm happy to introduce the Empathic Detective series to readers. Gerald Bryce is an empath living in a futuristic Central Texas. He is a police detective using psychic abilities to solve crimes. But there's more going on in Bryce's world than what he can see on the surface. Take a peek into his world with The Empathic Detective: A Mystery Thriller.

About The Empathic Detective

In a world of flying cars and planetary portals, Detective Gerald Bryce holds a rare power: the ability to read emotions. When he discovers a suspected murderess who shares his gift, she offers the fulfillment of his deepest desires. Soon he discovers she can manipulate emotions too, controlling others even to the point of committing murder. A battle breaks out between police and all the forces she can bring to bear. But other powers are at play as well, and they are far greater than anyone imagined …

Interview with Gerald Bryce by Jaxon Reed

An interview with the main character, Gerald Bryce: What or who is the greatest love of your life? My greatest love is my ex-wife. We've been divorced for years, but I've pursued no other relationships. On what occasion do you lie? We all lie, especially when we know more about someone else than they need to know. What is your idea of perfect happiness? Being perfectly understood by someone. Not having to hide the fact that I'm different, that I know things about others I shouldn't. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I'd like to be normal, to not have these powers that set me apart. They are a blessing and a curse at the same time. Where would you most like to live? There's no greater place in the world than Texas!

Who is Gerald Bryce?

Gerald Bryce, a psychic detective with empathic powers. He can make highly accurate guesses as to what somebody is thinking or about to do based on their emotions.

[mylincolncole-blog]

Book Feature: Empathic Detective

Today's Book Feature is: The Empathic Detective!

In a world of flying cars and planetary portals, Detective Gerald Bryce holds a rare power: the ability to read emotions. When he discovers a suspected murderess who shares his gift, she offers the fulfillment of his deepest desires. Soon he discovers she can manipulate emotions too, controlling others even to the point of committing murder. A battle breaks out between police and all the forces she can bring to bear. But other powers are at play as well, and they are far greater than anyone imagined …

Jaxon Reed is a science fiction and fantasy author. Amazon's Kindle Press selected his book, The Empathic Detective: A Mystery Thriller, for publication through Kindle Scout. Recently the sequel, Ghostsuit, was also selected by Kindle Press. His latest book is Thieves & Wizards, an epic fantasy.  Jaxon is an Aggie, living in Texas on a ranch with his wife and boys, several cats, and one pound dog. To receive the latest updates on new releases and opportunities for free reader exclusives, please visit jaxonreed.com/free/

Check it out on our $100 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway!