#while character one is in hyperspace?
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Doing my best to not let the Wookipedia rabbit hole of communications through hyperspace consume me but boy howdy is it hard
#NOOOOOOOOOO WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO BE THE ONE THIS THAT TRIPS ME UP#it's very simple: can i have a character use a comlink to communicate with another character on a far away planet#while character one is in hyperspace?#my gut says no#but what's the name for the holothingy they would use then?#kriff. back to wookipedia
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im working on something else rn but a lil while ago i made a star wars au, so here you go :)
the main idea is written in the corner but imma tldr it(also i dont trust the upload quality of the pic): set in roughly prequel era robotnik used to be a high up republic special weapons group guy and, as a high up military guy, was assigned a jedi bodyguard, that being stone.
once his inventions got a bit too war-crime-y the republic had him jailed and stone (who fell in love with him) breaks him out and they start being weapons dealers
other misc details under the cut
okay so some of these are mentioned in the pic but i wanted to specify/expand/clarify:
stone never really falls to the dark side, that's actually why he couldn't bleed his own crystal (which let's be completely clear he would be willing to do for robotnik), he simply didnt have the hate and pain necessary to do it. he follows robotnik, his devotion and duty to him is what gives him strength in the force(think knights of zakuul)
to go with his brand, also just to show that he could, robotnik made stone a lightsaber with a black market red kyber crystal... smthn smthn your lightsaber is your life...
i went with orange for his original one because
it provides a nice contrast with the rest of his fit
it goes with robotnik's colour scheme
he simply does not have the temperament of a purple lightsaber, i dunno man the vibes are off
for my fourth reason let me present to you a quick clone wars episode concept:
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(clone wars intro music)(random quote) UNCERTAINTY HAS GRIPPED THE REPUBLIC! the separatists have captured a republic military research vessel along with its scientists and military generals! it is up to only 3 brave jedi to save them.
(i fucked up the tone of the intro guy by the middle, and also i dont really have a 3rd guy i just wrote 3 cuz it seemed like a number they would use)
anyway gimmick clone wars intro aside
robotnik was forced entirely into the military uniform(including non special gloves) for a special scientific military meeting where "even jedi werent allowed" it obviously being a trap robotnik had a few aces up his sleeve, but even so, stone was told to stay on alert, because robotnik was most definitely getting kidnapped.
so when robotnik misses all 3 agreed upon check ins stone contacts the council(hes already somewhere with a lot of jedi, its not just a matter of "he thought it best to report"(and waste precious time that could be spent saving the doctor?) but "he literally cannot take a ship and leave without it raising suspicion"), he basically tells them something like "we cant waste any time arguing, im going. i am closest to the last reported location" so the council sticks 2 more people on him(if it was an actual episode they would most likely be already established, so we could see a "familiar face" interacting with this new character of stone)
anyway they find where did the seps take them because obviously robotnik chipped himself.
with the correct password(that only stone has(not that he knows that hes the only one)) robotnik can be tracked even through hyperspace(not exactly, but it at least gives a general quadrant of space, which ofc after leaving hyperspace gets pin-point accurate)
they get to the base, they sneak around trying to find how to get to the prisoners(because its nice that they have robotniks coordinates to the tenth of a milimetre, but they dont have the base blueprints)
during the dramatic peak of the ep, there's a weirdly menacing moment where the mild mannered jedi knight, that was kinda made fun of the entire episode for being "reduced to an errand boy" can actually swing a lightsaber around pretty well.
and then he unties robotnik, helps him up, asks if hes alright("of course not, imbecile! what took you?" "the tracker wasnt as accurate while in hyperspace as you theorised" "hm. well in any case none of this would happen if it werent for this stupid uniform" "i have a change of clothes prepared for you in the ship") aaannnd the errand boy is back
fast forward, robotnik was both arrested and freed, is now doing his own thing.
the two knights that were with stone in that "initial episode" are snooping around one of robotnik's labs, investigating this new arms dealer. they're on a terminal of some sort and behind them out of focus of the camera a bright orange lightsaber ignites, contrasting sharply against the red/blue tones of the lab.
"you aren't welcome here." the former jedi knight says.
--
and scene
so yea hope that last bit sold you on the orange lightsaber bit
originally wanted to post this au with more art attached but alas life had other plans.
anyway if you've read this far i hope you have a nice rest of your day :)
also dont be afraid to ask any questions about this au, i have so many thoughts about it, so im 100% sure i didnt include something i deffo have figured out because i either a) forgor 💀 or b) didnt know how to properly explain a vague feeling about a possible situation
#stobotnik#sth#sonic movies#dr ivo robotnik#ivo robotnik#agent stone#sonic agent stone#star wars au#my art#digital art#sonic the hedgehog
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⟡ 𓂃 ࣪˖ BITTER BURN — Han Solo x reader.
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SUMMARY: That wasn’t his right to take. And now, all you were left with was humiliation.
A/N: okay, first of all, I just wanted to apologise for disappearing so suddenly and not posting at all. I wasn’t feeling very confident with my work and honestly, I was a little out of ideas. I really hope this makes it up for that, and there will be a part two! save me han solo ���
WARNINGS: slowburn, public humiliation (sort of) angst/hurt, complicated feelings, stolen first kiss, han solo is kind of a jerk but when is he not? brief mention of original character but he doesn’t really have any significant impact (sorry Kalen)
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You’ve known the crew for months now. Travelling hyperspace with them really taught you a few things here and there, but you mostly were able to get to meet all of them.
LUKE was the sweetest, most awkward ever. His wide, blue eyes, curious of the different worlds around him. Always ready for adventure, with sometimes a little recklessness.
CHEWIE was like a walking teddy bear, if he knew how to pilot a ship and a bowcaster. Despite that, he always knew how to offer help whenever needed.
And finally, Han Solo. Oh, you didn’t know where to start with him. Since day one, he’s had you reeled in, always doing something to pull you close.
You knew it was meaningless, that he flirted with any women in his presence, but during those moments, the sound of his low voice whispering something targeted towards you, just for you to hear, how could you not fall for it?
But it was all pointless. He didn’t mean it, he’d just say those things to get you all riled up, ready to do whatever he asked. Whether it was getting him something or taking care of the Falcon’s controls while he’s gone, you always agreed.
Overtime, you noticed Han’s “tricks”. It irritated you, every time you’d tell yourself it would end, but when he’d look at you with those brown eyes, lips curling up into a smirk, your knees went weak every time.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
As of now, you were sat at a random, empty table at a local bar, “Blaster’s End” was it? Either way, it was rather loud, just like any other place of this kind. Dim lighting, the clink of glasses, blaster scorch marks on the wall, giving the place more character.
The rest of your so called “crew” — Han, Chewie and Luke, were crowded around a table in the back, deep in what Han smugly called “guy talk.” Whatever that meant. You didn’t press.
Maybe you just wanted an evening alone, spent with nothing but your thoughts and the occasional refill of your exotic beverage. Being in his presence really wouldn’t let you be this at ease.
As if on cue, the air shifted. A stranger, new set of eyes, stepped up to your table.
“Is this seat taken?” The voice caught your attention, low and warm. Instinctively, you looked up to meet its source.
A young man. Around your age, seemed like. Tousled dark blonde hair, a little grown out. Soft, green-ish hazel eyes, ones that made you wonder what could be behind them.
He gently smiled, awaiting with patience for your answer, which you happily gave, making room for him to sit down.
“Where are my manners? So sorry, I’m Kalen,” He stuck his arm out, a little bigger than yours, glance drifting to a thin, faded scar tracing across his knuckles.
“I’m Y/N,” You happily returned the hand gesture, smiling. In all honesty, you were quite surprised to have somebody go out of their way to get to know you.
Oh, but somebody wasn’t as pleased wit that sight. A certain bounty hunter, notorious for being able to have anybody he so wished to, and yet, his gaze kept averting to the situation unfolding at hand.
No amount of whiskey could dull the bitter ache rising inside him. Not even Luke’s pointless rambling could chase it away.
Who did this guy think he was? Coming out of nowhere, flashing you a grin, he knew it all too well. He knew what that guy wanted. And he for sure wasn’t gonna get it.
“Alright Chewie, Luke, I gotta go see what’s got Y/N laughin’ over there.” He shot them a quick smirk, one that clearly wasn’t the genuine kind.
But they didn’t catch onto it, Luke already gripping onto his drink as if it would run away, even though it was half empty at that point.
Han made his way through the busy bar, pushing some of the other customers when needed. He didn’t care. Not in that moment he didn’t.
The moment your eyes spotted him in the crowd, your eyebrows scrunched. Kriff, what was he doing here? Did something happen?
“Name’s Han Solo, and you are?” His voice spoke up, taking a chance to look Kalen up and down, clearly judging him in his mind, yet his expression gave it all away.
“Uh—Kalen, My name’s Kalen,” He replied to the taller male’s questioning with a confused expression, not really knowing who he was.
“Han, what do you want?” You sighed, rubbing your temple, barely hiding your frustration. “I’m not really in the mood for this right now.”
Han’s eyes flicked between you and Kalen, his jaw tightening just a little before forcing that trademark grin. “Just making sure you’re not gettin’ into trouble.”
“Alright, Kevin, what do you do, exactly?” He asked, clearly faking interest as he crossed his arms, slightly towering over the poor guy.
“It’s Kalen, I’m actually an engineer—“
“Yeah, cute. Anyway,” Han said with a half-smirk, stepping a little closer like he owned the whole damn bar.
Kalen blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t back down. “You don’t have to be so hostile.”
Han chuckled, a low, rough sound. “Hostile? Nah, kid, I’m just making sure you know the score. This here,” He nodded at you.
“she’s not some prize to be won with a few words and a smile.”
Your eyes flicked between the two, heart pounding harder than you wanted to admit. Han’s gaze was sharp, like a blaster aimed right at Kalen.
“And I’m ‘bout to show you how it’s done.” Were Han’s famous last words before pulling you over, using his own knee to hold you gently but firmly in place, planting a quick yet searing kiss on your lips.
Your eyes widened right away, not even having a moment to process what just happened. Han pulled away, his gaze a few seconds too long before turning to Kalen who was just as shocked.
"Now that’s how you leave an impression—“
“Han, by the stars, are you insane?!”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Han still continued to wear that prideful smirk, as if he’s just done you a favour. He turned around, expecting a flushed look from you, only to be met with the total opposite.
You weren’t happy, not in any sense. In fact, you were furious, left feeling humiliated. What Han did was selfish, embarrassing for you in front of Kalen, but worst of all?
It was your first kiss. Something that should’ve been special, with the right person, was stolen by the wrong person in an inconsiderate manner. Like you were some prize to be won, not a person with feelings.
“What made you think it was okay to do that, you laserbrain?!” You practically yelled at him, catching the attention of others around, including Luke and Chewie from the table at back.
“Oh, come on, princess. It was just a kiss. Not like I took your dignity?”
You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, mockingly snorting at them, even. What an absolute moron, he was.
“Just a kiss? That happened to be my first, and you had no right to take it like that.”
This time, Han was unusually silent, in fact; everyone around was. He didn’t have that snarky look anymore, it was something else. Something laced with regret.
“Your first?” His tone was much softer, more quiet. Almost whisper-like, as if he didn’t expect that at all, in fact, nobody did.
“You sure know how to leave an impression. Not necessarily a good one.” Your voice cracked as you struggled to maintain eye contact with him, your eyes slowly filling up with tears. You’ve already faced too much humiliation for one night.
You turned back to your table and grabbed your drink, chugging it in one go. You needed something to numb you, even for just a little bit.
Shooting one last glare at Han, you practically pushed right past him. He didn’t move, not at all, just stood in place, staring at the ground, as if he was feeling shame.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
#nat’s one shots ♡#han solo#han solo x reader#han solo x you#han solo x y/n#han solo x reader fluff#han solo x reader smut#han solo x reader angst#harrison ford#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker#luke skywalker#luke skywalker x reader#luke skywalker x reader angst#luke skywalker x reader smut#a new hope#star wars#empire strikes back#return of the jedi#princess leia#leia organa
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You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.
How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O
That? Is Brilliant~☆
It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.
Regardless of HOW it happened?
The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.
Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!
Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.
They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.
You want POWER?
Okay.
HAVE IT.
Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.
Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.
Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?
But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.
They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.
The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.
Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.
Who is going to USE it.
P A N I C
Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?
Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.
Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)
When?
.......Green...~¤~
Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?
Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!
It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!
The Force? Is in all things.
You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.
Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.
One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.
The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!
But perhaps you are correct.
Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.
We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!
Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!
Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*
Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.
Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?
They both can and can not feel him.
Both can and can not SEE him.
He is so young....
A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.
Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?
Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.
He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.
And of course... King™.
No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.
Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?
JUST you.
We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?
.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)
And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!
And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*
There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*
And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)
Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....
W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*
R-Rex?
...
......
The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.
And Palatine? Is? PISSED.
His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.
Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.
Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)
It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.
They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!
So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.
He? Is? PISSED.
How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.
It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!
You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?
Well congrats!
YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!
*inhale*
*Wail*
Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.
Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?
You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.
How many souls died screaming?
Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?
Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.
The Jedi close rank.
Palpatine tries to use the Clones.
You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.
Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.
Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.
Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.
The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*
His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*
#minji's writing#long post#dpxsw#star wars#danny fenton#why clones when we could use bones?#jedi's bone army au
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Weather The Storm Together
Din Djarin x Neurodivergent GN!Reader



Summary: Despite repeated reassurances that Din loves you regardless of your struggles, you find it difficult to believe him. But when you are engulfed by a particularly strong wave of emotions and fail at your latest attempt to avoid letting him in, it only serves to strengthen your bond.
Word Count: 1.6k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Reader has a panic attack/meltdown, physical symptoms described, negative thoughts (but with Din's help, these emotions are resolved!). ✯ Author's Note: Well it really has been one thing after another for me this week, so I really needed to write this for myself. Very cathartic to write your fave character being understanding of struggles, but I do think it fits Din so well. He spends his entire life wearing a literal mask, he would be very compassionate and gentle. Hope you enjoy this one!
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
As you lay face-down, sobbing your heart out on your bunk, your senses were too overwhelmed to hear him approaching. It was too late to turn away when your drained brain finally perceived the sound of his familiar heavy footsteps.
Your stomach drops when the rhythmic sounds stop.
Now, there is nowhere to hide.
You never intended for him to catch you in such a state. You remain convinced you look repulsive, with your swollen eyes burning from the endless tears shed. You fret about your messy hair that surely sticks out at all ends.
How will he retain his attraction to you after seeing you this dishevelled? How could anyone love someone capable of getting into such a distressed state?
The pain from such realisations will come later.
For now, you are too preoccupied with the way your chest aches from the exertion of the sobs which wracked your entire body until only moments ago.
As you roll over, you wipe your eyes to get a better look at him, but the sniffling continues. Once your eyes are suitably clear of tears, your stomach churns with unease as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling pathetic and tiny in his presence.
Somehow, he appears unfazed by your distressed appearance. As comfortable before his distressed cyare, as he would be encountering a band of mercenaries with deadly intentions.
“I’m here,” Din’s familiar deep voice cuts through the anguish, and you start to feel the clouds lift.
He moves to sit on the edge of your bunk. Instinctively, you cover your face with your arms, nuzzling into the soft material of the clothes you wear to sleep in.
Now that the shock is beginning to wear off, the equally unwelcome emotion of embarrassment begins to rear its ugly head, ready to add to your distress.
As he sits there gazing at you, his ordinarily warm brown eyes cooler and widened with concern, you think of recent events from Din’s perspective.
You blamed stomach ache for your abrupt retirement to your bunk. Despite his immediate concern for you, you successfully convinced him not to worry. Insisting it was a rogue ration pack, rather than an impending tidal wave of distress.
When you hurried to your bunk, you left Din engaged in one of his favourite ways he soothes his soul and self-regulates. He would have remained there for a while longer, meticulously cleaning his armour, were he not abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable, gut-wrenching sounds of your sobs.
You feel terrible that it struck at that moment, during such an unassuming afternoon. The constant storm that brews within you does not discriminate with timing. Sometimes, like today, there is a little warning, but just enough for you to get away and fall apart in peace. Things were perfectly fine, until they weren’t. A combination of the way the cloth Din was using squeaked against his armour and the seemingly endless monotony of hyperspace had caused you to tip over the edge.
Din has reminded you time and time again that he is by your side every step of the way. But after an entire life spent keeping this side of you hidden, believing it is far easier said than done. It will take more than his supportive words to undo the years of damage inflicted by the repeated negative reinforcements that breaking down like this was due to poor behaviour rather than being a natural, unavoidable response to feeling overwhelmed.
Still, Din is your anchor, something to cling to during the ferocious storm. You reach for his hand, relieved that he has forgone his gloves, as you lace his thick, callused fingers with yours. To your relief, some of the familiar warmth returns to his eyes, matched by the heat radiating from his skin.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Din tentatively questions.
You nod your head, taking shaky breaths to compose yourself so you can let him into your anguished state of mind rather than keeping him locked out.
“It was just all too much. The noise of the cloth against the armour and being stuck in this ship for another day. I couldn’t take it. I hate that I have to go through this,” you murmur.
“I know, cyare,” Din squeezes your hand as he shakes his head, “I wish you didn’t have to suffer. But we’ll be landing soon. By the time you wake up tomorrow, we’ll be back on solid ground.”
You nod. You know that Din is reminding you of your impending return to Nevarro as a reason to stay optimistic, not berating you for being unable to last just one more day. He understands how frustrated you are that you could not see this journey through without being overwhelmed. Still, the shame does not dissipate entirely.
“I hate that you have to see me like this. I feel so embarrassed,” you confess shakily, deciding there is no point in hiding your true feelings from him.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing,” Din reassures you, “No one would choose to get themselves into such a state. I hate to see you like this.”
“You’re not mad at me?” you clarify, optimistic that he does not appear annoyed that you attempted to hide your acute distress from him.
Din shakes his head, “I could never be mad at you. I wish you didn’t feel the need to hide this from me, but I understand why you do, and I hope that one day you will no longer feel a need to.”
You nod, relieved that Din does not berate and lecture you like others in your past have. His words fill you with optimism for the future, too.
But the dread lingers. Now that you have discovered your fear that Din was angry with you was unfounded, your anguished, racing mind turns to the future. Feeling even marginally less distressed than you do at the moment seems unthinkable.
“Will it ever get better?” you pathetically ask, picking at the threadbare blanket with your free hand as you avoid his gaze.
“Of course, it will,” Din responds immediately, his tone so firm that you dare to look up at him, “Right now, it’s hard to imagine not feeling this awful. I promise you, this won’t last forever. I will help you through this.”
“But how long can you go through this, Din, before it’s too much?” you pose the question which makes your heart constrict.
“You will never be too much,” Din shakes his hand, incredulous at the notion he would ever leave; unwavering in his devotion to you.
Your bottom lip trembles at his words, a few stray tears leaking from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You are about to move to rub your cheeks with your sleeves when, in an achingly tender gesture, Din gently uses his thumb to wipe them away.
The caring gesture and adoration apparent across his handsome features make you feel as though a Wookiee has taken a seat on your chest. It is difficult to breathe in the face of such unconditional love, especially at such a vulnerable moment.
"There will be better days and I'll be standing by your side through all of them," Din whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, before leaning his head against the very spot he just brushed his lips against.
You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep, steadying breath. You will yourself to believe Din's encouraging words, though you remain powerless to help the lingering doubt that gnaws somewhere deep inside. The two of you spend a few moments drawing strength from the closeness. You cannot resist how your lips curve upwards slightly at the way Din strokes the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Do you believe me?” Din finally asks, his breath hot against your face.
You pause for a few moments, considering your response. Then, you bring your free hand up to Din’s stubbly cheek and run your thumb along his surprisingly soft skin. You wordlessly answer his question by meeting his lips with yours softly, pressing your lips so faintly against his that it is a ghost of a gesture.
Din pulls away, his expressive face overcome with emotion. You can see the hope, relief and devotion in his eyes.
“With you by my side, Din Djarin, I believe that Mustafar could freeze over,” you smirk, then grow serious, “You make me feel like anything is possible.”
Din closes his eyes in gratitude, nodding as he swallows thickly. Relieved that he has, once again, pulled you back from the abyss with the patient, gentle way he loves you.
“Why don’t we get some rest?” Din offers, knowing the impact such distressing episodes have on your energy reserves.
You eagerly nod. Din quickly moves to shed his outer layers of clothing. He is already back before your side before you can truly mourn the loss of contact, pulling you into his strong arms so tightly that you believe he will never let you go.
As you lie back on the bunk together, you come to rest in your favourite position; with your cheek on Din’s strong, firm chest as his hands settle on your waist, rubbing soothing circles across your back.
You are so exhausted that it appears sleep will come easily to you, as your eyelids are already growing leaden while your breathing becomes heavy. Safe in the arms you love, the distress of before seems almost a distant memory.
Before falling into sleep’s warm embrace entirely, you hear Din whisper a final reminder:
“We’ll weather the storm together,” his deep voice vibrates underneath you.
You nod in agreement, reassured that Din’s affection for you will never diminish, no matter the severity of your distress.
The strong man whose arms you lie in will always be your anchor.
Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!
#din djarin fic#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#mando x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fluff#pedro pascal characters#neurodivergent reader#head so fried but had to finish this#now time to sleep lets manifest i dream of tin can man bringing as much comfort as he does in this fic PLS
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Star Wars Pilots Tournament - Finals!
Who's the better pilot??


Propaganda:
Hera Syndulla:
she's my mom and i love her
She’s the best pilot hands down. Her and Han literally have beef and he knows she’s better 💕
the amount of times she escaped from the empire is insane. she’s also a general!! and was able to fly ships successfully on planets with weird gravity!!
i dont remember the names of the eps but the entire B-wing episode And that time she outflew Darth "the greastest star pilot in the galaxy" Vader with him in his nice little maneuverable modified TIE and her in a /FRIEGHTER/. Hera best Star Wars Pilot of all time
One of the foundational members of the Rebel Alliance, leader of Phoenix Squadron, Hera's skills as a pilot has saved countless lives, not to mention getting her crew and family out of tight spaces in the nick of time
There isn't a pilot in the imperial fleet who can outrun her!!!! And she parents a whole crew while she does it. no one is doing it like Hera. No added help of force sensitivity because she is simply THAT GOOD. THEE pilot of all time, ever.
She outflew literal Anakin Skywalker without the force.
One time she flew through an imperial hanger in orbit and jumped to hyperspace while in the middle of it to get past the blockade. Also she beats out force sensitive pilots just by being so good at it
Han Solo:
I mean he did the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs, I mean it’s Han Solo how much propaganda does an iconic character like Han Solo need
#star wars pilots finals#star wars pilots round 5#star wars#star wars bracket#tournament#bracket#star wars pilots bracket#poll tournament#pollblr#showdown#star wars tournament#polls#hera syndulla#star wars rebels#han solo#original trilogy
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“You could be lost, but you belong to the world”
Draw a little person on a piece of paper. Give this little person point A and point B. To cover the distance, we must travel in a straight line from one point to the other in 2D and 3D space. But in 3D, we have an advantage. Fold the paper so that points A and B touch. Do you see? They are adjacent. They are next to each other. But this is only for us. The little person on the paper won’t understand this. He still sees the full distance. The arc formed between the points of contact of the two points is the distance that we saw before we folded the paper. And this is still what the little person sees. He is inside this arc.
Now imagine that in 4D space, there is a similar piece of paper that can be folded. We will be inside this piece of paper. We won’t be able to see the fold while we are inside our space. The characters also don’t notice how Amenogzen moves while he’s in his space, casting only his “shadow” onto the three-dimensional space. They are not in the same space with him, they can’t see him the way they should, and they don’t see how he connects the points. This is exactly what Dazai suggests using against Amenogzen. He suggests connecting points while in the four-dimensional space and moving, casting only the shadow onto three-dimensional space, showing only the point where he was and where he arrived, without showing the movement. Using Amenogzen’s own weapon against him.
This is wormholes or the theory of hyperspace jumping. A wormhole is a hypothetical “tunnel” in spacetime that connects two distant points in the universe. This can be justified by Einstein’s theory of relativity and multidimensional hypotheses. Albert Einstein showed that space and time are not absolute—they can be curved under the influence of gravity. Massive objects (like stars) curve space and time, creating gravitational “wells.” If space can be curved, theoretically, it can be folded in such a way that two distant points are brought close together. This leads to the hypothesis of wormholes: they are tunnels through spacetime that directly connect two points. If such tunnels existed, one could instantly travel, bypassing normal distance. The characters perceive space as “flexible” and can move, ignoring three-dimensional limitations. But what does Dazai mean by “If you stop concentrating, you’ll fly away”? Hyperspace requires a lot of energy. Here, that energy is concentration on the point you are moving to. Imagine you are crawling through a tunnel made of non-Newtonian fluid. When you step firmly, evenly, and with force (concentrating your energy on moving to the desired point), you move as intended. But the non-Newtonian fluid becomes fluid and pliable if you touch it carefully. When you lose concentration, your thoughts stop focusing on where you are going, you stop directing your energy, and you simply flow out of the tunnel into what lies beyond.
All of this could then be connected to the Möbius strip. The Möbius strip is a two-dimensional surface with one side and one edge. It illustrates how space can be twisted or altered, breaking the usual rules. In four-dimensional space, just like on the Möbius strip, objects can be connected and move between points that seem distant in three-dimensional geometry but are actually adjacent in higher dimensions. That is, from a four-dimensional perspective, a distance that seems enormous in the familiar world may actually be small, just like on the Möbius strip, where the “two sides” do not exist as separate objects but as a unified entity. After all, they are connected by a twisted form.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd thoughts#bsd theories#bsd dazai#dazai osamu#atsushi nakajima#bsd atsushi#bsd amenogozen#amenogozen
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Missing Piece - Part 1: Are You Mandalorians?

MEDIA: The Bad Batch (2021-2024), The Mandalorian (2019-2023) CHARACTERS: The Bad Batch & Din Djarin (Young) RATING: T (14+) TAGS: not canon compliant, PTSD, trauma, childhood trauma, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, family fluff, Tech lives, protective siblings (more here) SUMMARY: In this galaxy far, far away, it's experimental unit Clone Force 99 that saves Din Djarin instead of the Mandalorians, forever altering not only his fate, but also their own. How they manage to survive with not one, but two young soldiers-in-training under their wings proves just how far they're willing to go to keep their family's missing piece as close as possible. cross-posted from ao3, where updates are more frequent
PART 1: Are You Mandalorians?
Hunter flipped his knife into the air just as the emergency comm channel began to blare. He jumped in his seat and narrowly avoided missing—and being cut by—the blade as it fell back into his grasp. Every head turned towards the cockpit, though some snapped more quickly than others. Wrecker was noticeably groggy as he groaned in dismay.
“C’mon!” Wrecker exclaimed, heaving a breath as he did so. “I was havin’ the best sleep I’ve gotten in weeks! ”
Hunter had already started towards the cockpit, and he knew Tech wouldn’t be far behind.
“Complaining about new action?” Crosshair huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I can’t face new action without any sleep ,” Wrecker insisted.
Hunter tuned them out as he reached the Marauder ’s controls. He sat down in the co-pilot’s chair and pressed the button, watching as a blue image flickered to life. Hunter’s brow shot up as a Togrutan silhouette formed more fully.
“General?” Hunter managed the title even amidst his own surprise. He didn’t need Tech to tell him that General Shaak Ti being on the other end of the emergency comm was highly unusual, though he could practically feel the thought simmering in Tech’s brain from the pilot’s chair beside him.
“ Sergeant .” General Ti was as calm as ever, bowing her head in greeting before going on. “ I understand your squad is currently en route back to Kamino? ”
“That is correct,” Tech answered for his brother. He adjusted his goggles before letting his fingers fly over the controls. “We are approximately a single rotation and three additional standard hours away, given how distant our point of origin was.”
“ Is there any chance your squad is near the Relgim sector? ” General Ti’s expression morphed into something Hunter had never seen in the general before: desperation. “ We’ve just received a dire call for help, but the settlement is too remote for anyone else to get there in time. I saw your squad’s current route and hoped it wasn’t too late .”
Tech had already begun to analyze where in hyperspace they were the moment General Ti had requested it. Hunter fought back the exhaustion creeping into the corners of his mind as he pressed for more information. “Where would we be headed, General?”
General Ti still looked troubled as she responded. “ Aq Vetina .”
“In that case…” Tech paused, reaching for the hyperspace lever and pulling it back.
Hunter gripped the nearest support he could find as the Marauder shuddered out of hyperspace. Something fell behind them, and Wrecker grunted as Crosshair cursed loudly. Hunter chuckled, shaking his head—and knowing full well any other squad leader would have been mortified to have such a thing happen in front of a Jedi general.
“Your timing could not have been more optimal, General.” Tech spoke to General Ti while he focused on piloting the Marauder towards a distant world. “We are currently in the Relgim sector, and we are now on approach to Aq Vetina.”
General Ti let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders visibly lightening as she did so. “ Thank the Force. ” She focused on Hunter as she went on. “ Your orders are to engage only if the Separatist forces can be handled by your squad alone. If not… then we must consider this a loss .” Hunter didn’t need to be a Force-sensitive Jedi to sense her devastation at the mere thought of such an outcome. “ But I know that if any squad can take on such forces without backup, it’s yours, Sergeant. ”
“That’s right!” Wrecker was suddenly behind Hunter, his voice much brighter than before. He grinned at the Togruta Jedi and waved. “Hey, General!”
General Ti returned his smile. “ Wrecker, it’s good to see you .” Each word was genuine, spreading a comforting warmth through Hunter’s chest. Of everyone on Kamino, she had no doubt been the kindest to Hunter and his squad growing up, and for that he was forever indebted to her. “ I’m afraid I don’t have much time to catch up, though, and neither do you. Sergeant, if you wouldn’t mind contacting me on this frequency when you have an update on the situation? ”
Hunter nodded. “Of course, General.”
General Ti returned his nod. “ Thank you, Sergeant. Your squad is this settlement’s only hope. Do not engage in a battle you know you cannot win, but keep this in mind as you prepare for what’s ahead. ”
Those were the words she left them with. Her blue image faded, and for a few moments, all Hunter could hear—even with his enhanced senses—was the soft hum of space around them.
Hunter nearly winced when Wrecker raised his voice again from just behind them. “A surprise mission? Oh, yeah!” He punched the air. “I take back what I said before. This was totally worth missin’ out on some sleep.”
“What’s going on?” Hunter spun in his chair as Echo approached. He’d been surprised that Echo hadn’t joined him and Tech inside the cockpit for the comm, but given the way the ARC trooper was stretching his neck and suppressing a yawn, he had been in the middle of a deep, and clearly much-needed, sleep. “Was that General Ti?”
Hunter nodded. “It was.” He rose from his chair and clapped his hand on Echo’s shoulder. “Gear up. We have another mission.”
Echo’s eyes doubled in size. “ What? ” He shook his head. “That can’t be right. I thought we were headed back—?”
“There’s a remote settlement we’re passing by that needs help.” Hunter set his jaw, conveying an uncharacteristic amount of severity. “The general said we’re their only chance.”
Echo immediately straightened. Hunter began to smile in satisfaction. “What are we up against?”
Hunter kept his smile even as he gently brushed past Echo to head further into the ship. “Don’t know. We have to get a closer look.” He turned his head just enough to raise his voice over his shoulder. “Tech, let me know as soon as you have a visual. As for the rest of you…” Hunter looked pointedly at Crosshair, who had been watching everything unfold from the chair he was lounging in. “Get ready for a fight.”
Wrecker cheered in the background as Crosshair raised the corner of his mouth in a much more subtle form of celebration. Hunter could see the exhaustion looming within the depths of his brother’s eyes, and the darkening of the circles that hung underneath them, but that exhaustion was overpowered by their genuine love for what they did best: battle.
Hunter himself felt all of it—the exhaustion, the excitement, the addicting rush of adrenaline that shot through every single vein and nerve in his body. This time, however, he also felt something that he didn’t always experience, at least not to this degree. It was the same thing that had been written all over General Ti’s face.
He wanted to help these people, and he felt responsible for their safety.
But Hunter also felt responsible for his own squad, just as he always had. The weight of their flawless success rate got heavier with each new mission, though the success rate paled in comparison to the safety of his brothers. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice any one of them for a mission, not even one like this.
As hard as that truth would always be to swallow.
Hunter shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind just like always and focused on gearing up, paying extra attention to the way his armor snapped into place. He spared a look around and saw that Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo had made just as much progress as himself, with Tech well on his way after he had put the ship on autopilot for the time being.
Hunter wasn’t looking forward to a reality where this rush and preparation for battle wasn’t necessary. Based on what General Ti had told them, it was very likely that they could be forced to bail after seeing what they were up against.
The last thing Hunter reached for was his helmet before he strided back towards the cockpit. He could see Aq Vetina on approach through the viewport, a small world that didn’t get much bigger even as the ship got closer.
“ Force .” Echo’s voice was a mere breath behind Hunter, but the sergeant wasn’t surprised by his close presence. He had sensed Echo’s whereabouts long before he had spoken. “That’s a small planet.” He exhaled, his voice dropping lower. “No wonder why they need help so badly.”
“Let’s just hope we can provide it.” Hunter turned towards Tech as he joined them. Tech returned to the pilot’s chair and Hunter stood behind him, letting Echo take the co-pilot’s seat. “Tech, how’s it looking from here?”
“I’ll have a better idea once I’ve navigated us closer.” Tech gently pushed the Marauder ’s steering wheel ahead, allowing the Omicron-class shuttle to move forward through the stars.
Hunter could sense the shadows of Wrecker and Crosshair behind him, no doubt just as curious about what awaited them. Despite the fact they were all—at least, almost all—just sleeping peacefully a few minutes ago, they were itching for a fight, especially one that sounded so critical.
For once, the squad remained silent as Tech continued to steer the ship forward. The tension was so thick that the sound of the proximity sensor going off made everyone jump.
“I’m clocking… one Separatist ship.” Tech sounded unimpressed as he continued to analyze the incoming data.
They all waited a beat before Wrecker spoke up. “That’s it?”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Is it a command ship?”
“Negative. I assume they have already left the system.” Tech’s voice lowered only slightly as he went on. “The battle may very well be over.”
Echo shook his head. “Not if they’ve left a ship here. They could’ve realized a planet this small only needed one ship’s worth of forces and sent the others to their other targets.” He glanced up at Hunter, his gaze hopeful.
Hunter returned Echo’s look and considered their next steps. Tech and Echo could both be right, and there was only one way to find out.
“It’s worth checking out.” Hunter nodded towards the viewport. “Bring us in, Tech.”
Tech returned Hunter’s nod and obeyed the sergeant’s order. Wrecker chuckled victoriously and must’ve nudged Crosshair’s shoulder, based on the way their brother grunted in dissatisfaction soon after. Echo flashed Hunter an appreciative smile before he focused on assisting Tech with the landing sequence.
Hunter lowered himself into one of the chairs off to Echo’s right side and exhaled a gentle breath through his nose. While spontaneous planning was their usual style, this mission was too delicate to abide by their typical tactics.
Hunter thought through each step carefully and brainstormed every possibility he could come up with in the time it took the Marauder to exchange the view of the stars for the grayish-blue of Aq Vetina’s atmosphere. His heart tightened uncomfortably when he caught plumes of smoke on the horizon.
Tech started his warning. “Hunter…”
“Don’t bring us too close.” Hunter was back on his feet, setting a hand on the backs of both Tech’s and Echo’s chairs as he surveyed the situation for himself. “Keep us a few klicks away. We’ll do a loose recon before we decide if we’re engaging.”
Wrecker groaned in disappointment. “So we still don’t know if we’re gonna fight?”
Crosshair hummed. “No use in trying to save their skins if there aren’t any skins left to save.”
Echo spun around in his chair to fix Crosshair with a pointed look, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Hunter didn’t have to look back at Crosshair to know he was unaffected. Echo still hadn’t gotten used to Crosshair’s severe nature, but he would have to understand that Crosshair meant no harm by it. He was just a realist, one who still cared deeply—even if he refused to show it.
Hunter tightened his grasp on the chairs as Tech brought the Marauder down. Its descent was even smoother than usual, no doubt a result of Tech’s abundance of caution, and it wasn’t long after that Tech powered it down completely. Hunter stepped back to give him and Echo room to stand.
Hunter was already setting his helmet over his head. “Let’s get moving.” He turned and pushed himself through the small gap between Wrecker and Crosshair at the cockpit’s threshold. “The longer we wait, the more lives we put at risk.”
The lack of Hunter’s usual enthusiasm heading into a mission caused the others to follow his order without complaint or hesitation. Hunter led the way off the Marauder before he sped up into a fast jog that helped them disappear quickly into the surrounding wood.
Hunter wove through the trees easily, gently touching the bark as his senses created a reliable trail to the city that had gone up in flames. The crunching of his brothers’ footsteps behind him was reassuring, grounding him to the present even as the leadership part of his mind tried to think far ahead.
It wasn’t long before the first sandstone building came into sight. Its blue, domed roof was charred with black grime, and the sounds of blasterfire and explosions were unmistakable to Hunter’s sensitive ears.
Hunter raised his fist, signaling for the squad to stop as he pressed his palm against the sandstone. He listened more closely for another few heartbeats, letting the sounds of the firefight rattle against his eardrums.
Super battle droids. Not enough to overwhelm his squad, not at all, but certainly enough to level a settlement of this size. They had to act fast to minimize whatever damage they could.
Hunter turned to face his brothers and nodded. “We’re going in.”
Wrecker cheered.
“We’ve got SBDs.” Hunter glanced at both Wrecker and Crosshair. “Crosshair, head up. Wrecker, give him a boost.”
The pair nodded at the sergeant before bounding forward. Wrecker knelt down just enough for Crosshair to lift his foot into his brother’s cupped hands. Crosshair pushed off just as Wrecker threw his arms up, and Crosshair had more than enough air to get onto the roof. Hunter continued as they did so.
“As for the rest of us, Plan 70.” Hunter nodded at Tech. “You’re with me. We’ll head to the east,” he waved two fingers at Wrecker and Echo, “you take the west.”
Echo tightened his grasp on his blaster. “We’re on it.” With that, both he and Wrecker disappeared into the settlement, the ARC trooper guiding the way.
Hunter looked over at Tech and watched his brother tighten his grasp on his blasters. One nod was all it took for them to communicate their next move. Hunter passed Tech to lead the way to the east. They stuck close to the walls of the structures they passed, checking around each corner before moving ahead. The fight was getting closer and closer.
A new wave of adrenaline shot through Hunter’s veins like a rocket. If the stakes weren’t so high for the people they were rescuing, he would even smile at the sensation, but it felt disrespectful. He couldn’t enjoy it when there were civilians caught in the crossfire.
Hunter flinched when the helmet comm suddenly opened up. “ You four might want to speed things up ,” Crosshair warned. Hunter shared a concerned look with Tech, noting the way Tech’s gaze flashed with cautious curiosity. “ Looks like the clankers are about to have this battle won. ”
Wrecker snarled over the comms. “ Not if we can help it! ”
Crosshair sighed. “ That’s exactly what I’m saying, Wrecker .”
Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Focus. Remember what General Ti said. We’re their only chance at survival.”
Like his brothers, he didn’t mind the rush of battle, but this was different. This wasn’t blasting droids on the battlefield. This was rescuing civilians from the destruction of their home.
Hunter held his arm out in front of Tech when he caught sight of a horde of SBDs. He holstered his blaster and drew his blade from his gauntlet instead, keeping it at the ready as his other hand rose back to his helmet.
“Echo, Wrecker, status report.”
Echo answered for them. “ In position. ”
Hunter steadied himself with a breath before nodding to himself. “Move in.”
He didn’t waste another second. Hunter sprinted out from behind the protection of the nearby building and launched himself at the first droid in his path. He flung one arm around the droid’s neck from behind as the other jabbed his knife into the droid’s chest, frying its circuitry. Hunter pushed himself off the droid as it collapsed, leaping into the air and dodging blasterfire as he made a beeline for the next one.
Hunter was so lost in the familiar yet thrilling routine of battle that he paid little attention to the rest of their surroundings. It was only after he tripped over something unexpected that he was forced to stop and glance down at the unpredictable obstacle.
It was a body, clothed in red robes that tragically matched the color of their spilled blood. One quick look around the courtyard they were in proved that it was far from the only one of their people who had fallen.
Hunter blanched, but only for a moment. He couldn’t afford to take any more time. Hunter snapped his helmet up and watched as a droid threw open the doors to a bunker in the ground, taking aim with their weapon soon after.
Someone had to be alive down there. Someone they could save .
Hunter threw his knife before he had even gotten to his feet. The blade sunk into the side of the SBD’s head, causing it to stiffen before it collapsed to the side. Hunter was already running over, not bothering to retrieve his knife just yet as he awaited helping the person, or the people, who had taken refuge in the bunker.
When Hunter skidded to a stop in front of it, he nearly lost the ration that he had eaten just a few standard hours ago. He blinked in disbelief and attempted to catch his mind up with what his eyes were seeing.
It was a child, a boy no older than nine cycles, who was slowly reopening his eyes to look up at Hunter with fear, shock, and hope .
Hunter felt as if the wind had been knocked from him, the same way he always did whenever Wrecker sacked him during their sparring sessions. Still, he couldn’t afford to freeze up like this in the heat of battle, especially not when there was a helpless child staring back at him.
“It’s okay,” Hunter finally said, lifting his gloved hands up for the scared boy to see. “I’m not gonna hurt you. We’re here to help.”
The child blinked, his trembling lips parting as he tried to speak. “W-We?”
Hunter pasted on a small smile. “My squad.” He nodded in further reassurance. “We’ll keep you safe.”
The boy’s shoulders sagged in relief. He looked as if he was about to ask a question, but then thought better of it. Hunter fought to ignore the sudden ache in his chest as he glanced over his shoulder and narrowly dodged a blaster bolt.
“Stay down here for now.” Hunter was gentle with the order. “I’ll protect you from up here, and once the droids are dealt with, we’ll get out of here. Sound good?”
The boy nodded, his small fists clutching the dirt on the bottom of the bunker as he did so. Hunter let out a quiet exhale and spun back to face the battle.
Hunter lifted his fingers to his helmet as he tore the blade from the SBD’s head. “Has anyone else come across survivors? I’m protecting one right now.”
It took some time for the others to answer as they focused on blasting the last few droids. “ Negative ,” Tech answered for himself.
Echo was next. “ Same here .”
Wrecker maintained optimism. “ Not yet! ”
It was Crosshair who had to deliver the news that dropped like a stone into Hunter’s stomach. “ I’m not seeing any survivors from up here .”
Hunter’s jaw tightened as he held his position, using the SBD’s body as cover to fire off shots. They had been too late, after all. Hunter couldn’t help wondering how this boy had gotten so lucky.
That’s when he dared a look to the side of the bunker he was closest too. His breath caught in his throat when he saw a charred red slump that was half-hidden by the bunker’s damaged door.
Someone had purposefully protected the boy, and Hunter was willing to bet he knew exactly who they were. Suddenly, the boy’s hesitant attempt at a question made sense. He wanted to know if his parents were still alive.
Hunter closed his eyes behind his visor and gave his helmet a small shake. This was the part of the war he could never truly come to terms with, the part that was so easy to ignore when it was just him, his brothers, and a crowd of clankers. It was the reason why they were fighting this war in the first place.
Hunter reopened his eyes and watched as Wrecker took down the last droid. The settlement went eerily silent, and the blaster smoke made the atmosphere feel even heavier. Hunter sighed and turned back to the boy in the bunker.
There were fresh tear trails on the boy’s dirty cheeks, running from a pair of dark brown eyes that were open so wide Hunter half-feared they would pop right out of the boy’s head. Hunter put all his weapons away and lifted his helmet to show the child his face.
“Alright, we got the last of ‘em.” Hunter knelt down and rested an arm upon his propped-up knee. “Not too bad of a wait, huh?”
The boy sniffled, but Hunter caught the corners of his lips rising in a small smile. Hunter nodded at him in encouragement.
“You did great down here, following my orders.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “You listen better than my squad does.”
The child chuckled. Hunter grinned, even as his heart squeezed tighter.
“My name’s Hunter.” Hunter pressed both hands against his chestplate before he gestured towards the child. “What about you?”
The boy lifted his arm and rubbed his face with the sleeve of his red hooded robe. He hiccuped on a breath as he fought to answer Hunter’s question. “Din, s-sir.” His voice was so quiet that Hunter wouldn’t have been able to hear it if it weren’t for his enhanced senses.
“Nice to meet you, Din. I’m… sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.” And Hunter meant that. His regret was already leaving a resounding ache deep within his bones.
Hunter looked over his shoulder and saw his brothers standing close by. They all had their helmets tucked underneath their arms, their expressions giving away their curiosity. Crosshair had already joined them again.
Hunter’s gaze fell back to the ground that was littered with the bodies of both the droids and the civilians. He circled his jaw and turned back to Din.
“Okay, kid, I have one more order for you.” Hunter tightened his gloved hand into a fist and maintained the best duty voice he could manage. “Think you’re brave enough to handle it?”
Din nodded earnestly, taking one more wipe at his tears. Hunter beamed.
“That’s what I thought.” Hunter tapped the edge of the bunker. “I’m gonna help you up, and we’re gonna take you on our ship to somewhere safe. I need you to keep your eyes closed until I say so. Got it?”
Din nodded again. “That sounds easy, sir.”
Hunter let out a genuine chuckle as he raised his brow. “I knew you’d be up for the challenge.”
Hunter leaned down into the bunker and extended a hand towards Din. The boy stood to his feet and shuffled his way over. After the two of them interlocked hands, Hunter paused, his stare meeting Din’s.
“Ready to close your eyes?”
Din gave Hunter’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yes, sir.”
Hunter nodded. “Alright. Close ‘em.”
Din obeyed. Hunter tugged the boy up with ease, gently setting him onto the terrain at his side. Hunter tucked his helmet under his arm and stood to his feet, keeping his grasp on Din’s hand. He looked down at the boy who had his eyes shut tight enough to make the skin on his lids wrinkle.
“The rest of my squad is here, too,” Hunter told him. He spared a look at his brothers, whose expressions had all fallen at the sight of the young child. “I’ll introduce you when it’s time to open your eyes. Okay?”
Din nodded. He hesitated before he decided to say something. “T-Thank you, sirs.”
Wrecker said “Anytime, kid!” right when Crosshair said “Don’t thank us yet.” Crosshair shrugged when he was leveled with a warning glare from all four of them.
Echo’s gaze met Hunter’s before he signed the best he could with his hand. A kid?
Hunter cut his gaze over to the bunker door. Everyone’s eyes followed his. Echo’s jaw tightened as Wrecker’s brow furrowed in devastation. Tech adjusted his goggles uncomfortably, and even Crosshair shifted his weight and looked away from the sight.
Hunter addressed his squad when he spoke again. “We have to get going before they send more down.” He set his helmet over his head and gave Din’s hand a gentle squeeze to get his attention. “I’m gonna carry you so you don’t have to worry about where you’re going. Is that okay?”
Din’s voice was only growing stronger. “Yes, sir.”
Hunter let go of the boy’s hand and reached over his back. He removed his pack and tossed it to Wrecker, who caught it and nodded at the sergeant. Hunter picked Din up and guided him onto his back, helping the boy to wrap his arms around Hunter’s neck.
Only once the boy was settled did Hunter nod at his squad. “Time to go.”
Hunter wasted no more time standing around. He began to jog back the way they had first come, using his senses to recall their path. The crunching of the terrain behind him told him that the squad was matching his pace, barely exhausted by the quick battle.
They were about halfway back to the Marauder when Din broke their silence. “Hunter, sir?”
Hunter flashed him a quick look over his shoulder as he continued ahead. He huffed out a fond breath. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ kid.”
“Okay.” Din’s voice was wobbling a bit. An uneasy knot tied up in Hunter’s stomach. “I was just wondering… when are we gonna go back and help everyone else?”
Hunter nearly stopped dead in his tracks. Only his desire to keep Din from panicking kept him moving. The knot in his stomach rose into his chest, making it difficult to breathe—and suddenly mindful of Din’s extra weight upon his back.
It was like a blaster wound straight to the chest.
“Kid…”
Hunter inhaled a soft breath. Din was no doubt old enough to tell whether Hunter was lying or not. Hunter had already done what he could for Din by keeping him from having to remember the sight of their bodies. He deserved to know the truth; it was better for him to hear it now than later.
“There was no one else for us to save.”
The silence that followed was louder than any other Hunter had ever heard. He wasn’t used to silence, not with senses that picked up on just about everything, but focusing on this one now was utterly painful.
Hunter’s jaw tensed and refused to relax until Din spoke again. “Oh.” Din’s arms tightened around Hunter’s neck. “Okay.”
Din’s tone was one of distant acceptance. It shattered Hunter even more that a child like him had to come to terms with something like this.
Suddenly, he was angry. Angry at the Separatists, at the war, at the galaxy . This was a kind of loss that Hunter, thankfully, never had to experience, but if he was given the choice to face it in this child’s place, he would have.
But then he glanced back at his squadmates, his brothers , and Hunter selfishly thanked the Force that he never had to know what this kind of loss was like.
The sight of the Marauder was relieving, but not relieving enough to dispel all the darkness and tension from Hunter. He could sense the same weight upon the shoulders of his brothers behind him as they reentered the ship. It was obvious in the way Tech quietly dismissed himself to the cockpit for takeoff while the rest of them began to set down their gear, each one careful to make less noise than necessary.
Hunter helped Din’s feet get back to the floor. He lifted his helmet and set it aside, kneeling in front of the boy whose eyes were still closed diligently. Hunter softened.
“Okay, kid. You can open your eyes now.”
Din obeyed. He blinked a few times as he glanced around the space, his jaw falling open in wonder. Hunter chuckled to himself as Din’s hands clutched into small fists at his sides. “A spaceship ?”
“Technically, this is a shuttle,” Tech corrected him from the cockpit. Hunter fought the urge to roll his eyes fondly. “An Omicron-class attack shuttle, to be precise.”
Din just let out an impressed, exaggerated exhale. “ Whoa .”
The boy’s attention then fell on the squadmates who were huddled behind Hunter. The sergeant spun around to take a look at them himself.
Echo’s arms were at his sides, his brow pinched in distress. Wrecker had a warm smile on his face. Crosshair’s arms were crossed, his expression thoughtful and considering. Tech was still in the cockpit.
Hunter looked back at Din, whose chin tucked closer to his chest as the boy shyly addressed the room. “Are you Mandalorians?”
Immediately, Wrecker burst out into fond laughter. Echo gave him a light shove, despite the smile that started to tug at his own lips. Even Crosshair was wearing an amused smirk. Hunter chuckled to himself.
That hearty rumbling quickly disappeared from Hunter’s chest the moment he heard Din’s heartbeat quicken. He turned to see the boy’s gaze cast downward, his face reddened underneath the grime that coated his tan skin. Din started to shrink in on himself, clearly embarrassed by whatever error he had made.
Wrecker stepped forward before Hunter himself could act to remedy the situation. He knelt down to Din’s level and offered him a smile. “You’re right about us bein’ soldiers, kiddo, but not Mandalorians. We’re clones.”
Hunter heard Din’s racing heartbeat slow back down at Wrecker’s warmth as the boy’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Then why don’t you look like each other?”
Wrecker looked over at Hunter, who shrugged at his brother in amusement. “Fair point,” Hunter murmured. Wrecker turned back to Din.
“We’re clones, but…we’re different.” Wrecker jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Wanna meet us all?”
Din nodded earnestly. Hunter smiled again. He was trying to assess Din for any signs of shock, but clearly, Wrecker’s distractions were working for the time being. Tech could make a proper assessment once he was done piloting them into hyperspace.
Wrecker pointed to himself. “I’m Wrecker, and I like to blow things up!”
The delivery of the fun fact was enough to make Din laugh. Hunter’s chest warmed for the first time since he had rescued the boy.
Wrecker turned to face Echo and Crosshair. Echo took the glance as an invitation to step forward, kneeling down at Wrecker’s side. “I’m Echo.” He rested his left arm against his knee and managed a smile, though Hunter could clearly see the sadness set deep within his gaze. “It’s an honor to meet someone as brave as you.”
Din smiled at Echo’s praise. The warmth in Hunter’s chest blazed into a steady flame.
The boy’s smile faded when he looked down and caught sight of Echo’s scomp link and cybernetic legs. His expression was marred by worry. “Echo, sir, can I ask you a question?”
Getting rid of formalities was no doubt an adjustment for Din, one Hunter was more than willing to excuse. Echo held Din’s gaze and nodded confidently, allowing the boy to go on.
“What happened to your arm and legs?” Din cradled his own hands close to his chest. “Are you okay?”
Echo chuckled, the sound full of genuine warmth as he nodded again. “Yeah, kid, I’m alright.” Echo set his hand on Din’s shoulder. The boy relaxed underneath the soldier’s touch. “Something bad happened to me, but…” Echo paused, his gaze searching before he focused on Din again, “these guys found me and helped me learn how to make the most of it.”
Din brightened at that. His shoulders lifted, and his chest puffed up in hope. “Does that mean they’ll do the same for me, too?”
Hunter was about to answer in the affirmative from the boy’s side, but Echo beat him to the punch. “No doubt about it.” Echo gave Din’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “And so will I.”
Din’s smile remained, though his gaze shifted from Echo to something beyond him. The light of curiosity flickered in his gaze again, something to match the quicker rush of air Hunter heard in the boy’s lungs. Din’s voice was almost a whisper as he spoke.
“What’s his name?”
Wrecker and Echo both turned their heads to look at Crosshair, who was standing just behind them. Wrecker huffed and faced Din, gesturing with his head back towards their youngest brother. “That’s Crosshair.”
Din blinked a few times at the sniper, who had already tasked himself with balancing a new toothpick between his lips. Hunter watched as the boy studied his brother before he spoke up again.
“Do you like to shoot things, Crosshair?”
Crosshair’s arms stayed crossed over his chest even as his armored shoulders lifted with his amused exhale. “I do.” His brow shot up. “Looking to be a new target?”
Hunter narrowed his eyes and prepared a proper disciplinary speech for Crosshair, but Din’s laugh split right through his thoughts. “You’re funny!”
The corner of Crosshair’s mouth rose at that. Hunter’s tightened jaw relaxed. The kid could not only understand, but also appreciate Crosshair’s crude humor. He was already fitting in around here.
Not that he would be staying for long. The weight of reporting back to General Ti sat heavy upon Hunter’s shoulders, as he already knew what would result from telling her about their sole survivor. They would be redirected to Coruscant, where they would drop off Din at one of the refugee organizations—likely one created just for orphans.
What Hunter couldn’t fully understand was why that was an order he had no desire to comply with. Though, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to comply with an order. He and his squad had been that way ever since he could remember.
Still, this was different, and one look at the brothers around him confirmed it. Everyone was glowing at this child, who had just been through the unimaginable, but was still displaying an admirable amount of strength and curiosity.
Finally, Tech stepped out of the cockpit, his voice breaking through the squad’s brief silence in the hold. “We are en route to Kamino once again,” Tech informed them, though he looked pointedly at Hunter. “Although I do expect to be rerouted to Coruscant once you have briefed General Ti on our… findings.” Tech adjusted his goggles as he stared at Din.
The boy pointed at Tech’s eyes. “I like your goggles, sir.”
Tech lit up and knelt down eagerly in the space between Echo and Hunter. “These goggles were designed to enhance my less-than-average eyesight,” he explained to Din. “As something had to give in order for the Kaminoans to enhance my genetics and carefully craft my exceptional mind.”
Din’s brow scrunched up. “Enhance your genetics?”
“That is correct.” Tech gestured with his head to the squad around him. “It is why our physical appearances vary, despite the fact we are all made from the same genetic template.”
Din looked at Hunter for guidance, and the sergeant nodded at him. “We’re named for our enhancements.” Hunter tapped his own chestplate. “I’m good at tracking and sensing things. Wrecker’s good at… well, wrecking things. Crosshair’s the best sharpshooter you’ll ever meet. And like Tech here said, he’s got an incredible mind.”
Din looked almost worriedly at Echo. “What about Echo?”
Echo offered the boy a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t originally a part of this squad. I got my name a long time ago, when I was still with my batchmates.”
Din tilted his head. “Batchmates?”
Hunter read Echo carefully as the ARC trooper cleared his throat and went on. “My brothers. The clones I was born with and trained with until I started to fight for the Republic.” Echo’s gaze lightened as he went on. “My brothers called me ‘Echo’ because I used to repeat all our orders.”
Din nodded in understanding. He looked around the group as a smile spread across his lips. “I like all your names.”
Tech lifted a finger. “Technically, they are nicknames. We were not given names when we were created, only numerical designations.”
“Oh.” Din began to deflate again. “I was only given a name, but… I wish I had a nickname like you guys.”
Wrecker set a hand on Din’s shoulder. “Well, you gotta’ know a lot about Mandalorians to think that’s what we were, right?”
Din looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, sir.” He blinked in succession and rushed to correct himself. “I mean, Wrecker.” He hesitated before going on. “I learned a lot about them in galactic history. And my pare…”
Din came to an abrupt stop. Grief powerful enough to knock Hunter off his feet washed over the young boy’s face, though he still pushed on to finish his thought—even if his voice was considerably smaller.
“They used to tell me a lot of Mandalorian stories.”
Wrecker shared a concerned look with Hunter. Still, he maintained his usual cheery disposition as he focused on Din. “That makes you an honorary Mandalorian in my book, kid. How about Mando for a nickname?”
That at least got Din to brighten again. “Mando…” Din even began to smile again. Hunter was overwhelmed by a wave of relief. “I like that.”
“Good.” Wrecker mirrored Din’s smile. “That means you gotta’ catch us up on all the stories, though!”
As Wrecker continued to keep Din busy, Hunter nudged Tech with his armored shoulder to get his attention. His brother gave him an inquisitive glance, which Hunter responded to by gesturing with his head back towards the cockpit. Hunter stood and Tech followed him over to the open threshold.
“I’m gonna contact General Ti,” Hunter nodded towards Din. “Give the kid an assessment to see what symptoms of shock he might be presenting. He’s a strong kid, I’ll give him that, but I’m not convinced that he’s just forgotten about everything that happened.”
Tech returned Hunter’s nod. “That would be a wise conclusion.”
Hunter set his hand on Tech’s shoulder before he turned away to walk into the cockpit. He paused just in front of the communicator, heaving a breath through his nostrils as he closed his eyes in consideration.
There was something tugging at his gut, squeezing his lungs hard enough to make breathing feel like a chore. Reporting to a higher ranking officer, even a general, wasn’t anything new for Hunter, so he knew that wasn’t the problem. It was something else.
Hunter reopened his eyes and spared a glance over his shoulder. Wrecker and Echo were distracting Din with more conversation as Tech tended to him, causing their soft voices and Din’s gentle laughter to fill the space. Even Crosshair looked fondly amused from where he was still standing behind his brothers.
Hunter smiled. The Marauder was… warmer. Lighter. Happier . He hadn’t seen it like this ever since the war had started, since before his brothers sourced their joy from things much more innocent than warfare.
Then Hunter faced the communicator again, and his stomach clenched hard enough that he thought he might be sick right there.
Something wasn’t right. Hunter wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he just needed better sleep than he’d been getting these days, but deep down, he knew exactly what it was, because he knew exactly what order was awaiting him on the other end of the call.
Was he really about to drop this freshly orphaned child off like some kind of cargo shipment?
Hunter shook his head. There was no other choice; they were soldiers, and there was no business exposing a kid to a life like theirs. Hunter had never thought twice about keeping survivors around before. He wasn’t sure why it should be any different this time.
The sergeant forced himself to press the button on the communicator before he could hesitate again. After a few heavy heartbeats, General Ti’s holographic image appeared in front of him.
“ Sergeant Hunter. You’re reporting sooner than expected .” There was no missing the caution in General Ti’s tone as she undoubtedly prepared herself for the worst. “ How did your mission go? ”
Hunter steadied himself with a breath and looked apologetically at the general. “I’m afraid we were too late, General. The settlement’s been destroyed.”
The general blanched, though she otherwise maintained her usual composure. “ Any survivors? ”
Hunter circled his jaw, once again considering his words. As disobedient as he and his brothers could be, this wasn’t something he should lie about. “Just one. A child.”
General Ti’s head lowered. After a brief moment of silence, she spoke in a softer voice than usual. “ May the Force be with him, and with those he knew who have faded into it. ”
Hunter didn’t respond. He was waiting to receive his order, one that he should have had no problem following. They had disobeyed much more complex orders before.
“ Bring the child to Coruscant. I will call ahead and let them know you’re coming. ”
Hunter nodded. “Yes, General.” He cleared his throat, but kept the sound quiet enough for only him to hear. “We’ll see you back on Kamino after our… detour.”
General Ti returned his nod, and she even managed a genuine smile for him. “ I’ll be looking forward to it, Sergeant .”
Thankfully, General Ti ended the call there. Hunter released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and closed his eyes.
The sergeant didn’t know what to make of the Force, and like many other clones, he had his own suspicions about it, but whatever was suddenly tugging on his heartstrings certainly felt like a mysterious force. It screamed at him to disobey in a way he hadn’t experienced before, not even in their riskiest endeavors.
Hunter reopened his eyes and turned his head over his shoulder. The dynamic between everyone had already changed, with Wrecker, Echo, and Tech huddled on the ground around Din as the boy spoke with wide, excited eyes. Even Crosshair was lingering closer, his chair spun in their direction as he smiled around the toothpick between his lips.
The sergeant reached out with his senses to listen more closely.
“... and zzsskk! ”
Din raised his arm as if he was pretending to pull a weapon from a sheath. Wrecker let out an eager gasp, his gaze glittering almost as much as the child’s. Tech looked pensive, while Echo beamed at Din the best he could.
“The warrior had a glowing sword!”
“Glowing sword?” Wrecker chuckled and nudged Tech. “Now that’s wizard.”
“Technically, if this ‘sword’ did have a luminescent glow, it would classify as a lightsaber,” Tech spoke up. He paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Though I suppose vibroswords and blades can, at times, produce luminescence of their own accord…”
Din blinked at Tech in innocent confusion. “Huh?”
“Uh, that’s alright,” Echo waved his hand at Din in reassurance. “What happened next, Mando?”
Din’s shoulders lifted at the nickname, and he gave Echo an enthusiastic nod before going on.
Hunter gave his sensitive hearing a rest as he smiled to himself. Every heartbeat on that ship was at ease for the first time in much too long. He knew his brothers enjoyed battle, but that didn’t mean they didn’t still feel the stress of it. This was the calmest they all had been since the earliest days of their deployment.
Surely, that couldn’t be a coincidence. Hunter just didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it.
════════════════════
Echo was more than happy to volunteer for the first watch shift, and he had no intentions of rotating out anytime soon. He had offered his bunk to their young passenger, and the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the child’s slumber. If anyone knew how important that first bout of rest after such trauma and loss was, it was Echo.
In fact, he’d been remembering a lot of those moments ever since they left Aq Vetina.
Such as Echo’s own eternal slumber after the Citadel. He shivered just thinking about the confusing stretch of darkness and flickering light that seemed as if it would never end. Sequences had run over his eyes constantly, letting light in each time they did, but they were never enough to bring him back completely.
Echo blinked his weightless eyelids to relieve the burning ache within them.
It had taken a long time for him to get comfortable with sleeping again, and clearly, he was still adjusting. He had been good about it for a while, but there was something about Din’s tragedy that had felt so personal to him.
Echo had understood it, that feeling of losing everybody, especially those held closest to the heart. He hadn’t even been given proper time to grieve Fives after he woke from his stasis. Somehow, that hurt more than the idea of having to witness his brother’s fate with his own eyes. He couldn’t even be there to protect his brother from the relentless force of death.
And then there was the explosion causing the fate of Din’s parents, and Echo was brought right back to Rishi Moon, to the graveyard of his three other brothers.
Echo tapped his scomp against his thigh and closed his eyes. No, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Facing these horrors in his conscious mind was bad enough.
Plus, if it wasn’t him out here, it would be Hunter, and Echo couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother get more than an hour of sleep—if that. Hunter had been teetering on a migraine purely from his senses getting little to no rest before Echo had assured him for a third time that he would be just fine having a solo watch shift.
Echo’s eyes only reopened when he heard gentle footsteps behind him. Knowing better than to actually expect a threat, Echo let out a sigh and prepared to lecture Hunter for not staying asleep.
But when Echo turned his chair around, his gaze was forced to lower to meet his visitor’s. Lost brown eyes met his own, the grief within them three times larger than the boy’s own stature.
“Hey, kid.” Echo kept his voice low to keep the others from waking. “What’s up? Can’t sleep?”
Din shook his head, his stare falling to his arms as he pulled the sleeves of his red tunic over his fists. His words were barely a whisper as he spoke. “I keep seeing them.”
Echo’s heart splintered within his chest, but he kept a steady expression for the boy. “Your people?”
Din’s shoulders rose and fell with a heavy breath before he lifted his head again. His lower lip quivered as his gaze sparkled with unshed tears. “My parents.”
Echo deflated, his eyes cutting away from the child for just a fraction of a moment. The swell of grief that rose within him was strong enough to make him lose his breath, though he found his voice and recovered quickly for Din’s sake. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. I…”
Echo paused, pressing his lips together as he considered his next words carefully.
“I know how hard it can be to sleep after things like this.”
Din’s brow wrinkled at him, the light of curiosity—and a sense of hope—sparkling in the dark depths of his devastation. “You do?”
Echo let out a gentler breath this time. The memories had already been on his mind, anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to coax them out just a bit further to ease this young boy’s fresh wound. “I do.” Echo managed a smile. “Want to hear a story?”
Din nodded eagerly, no doubt grateful for the distraction. Echo let out a soft chuckle and tapped the co-pilot’s seat next to him. Din hopped right up, spinning in the chair to face Echo as he tucked his hands underneath his legs and swung them back and forth in anticipation.
Now, if only Echo could find a way to keep this story from making things worse.
“These guys here,” Echo gestured with his head back towards the bunks, “they’re my brothers. We’re a squad. But… it wasn’t always that way, like I told you before. They're batchmates, and I used to have my own, too.”
Din’s expression began to fall as he realization dawned over him. “What happened to your batchmates, Echo?”
Hearing his own name from the boy’s lips made it even harder to say the truth out loud for some reason. Echo swallowed hard and pushed on. “They’re gone.”
Din frowned. “I’m sorry.” He adjusted the way he was sitting on his hands before he continued. “How many brothers did you have?”
Echo brought himself back to the past for a moment, when he and the rest of Domino Squad were just eager cadets who had finally managed to get along and pass the test. Back when they had their whole lives ahead of them.
Back when he was naive enough to really believe that.
“Four.”
Echo smiled, and it was genuine. He kept a careful eye on Din and saw the boy lightening up the more he spoke. Sharing his pain was making Din’s more manageable, and Echo would bleed himself out if it meant this boy would get closer to healing.
“Their names were Droidbait, Cutup, Hevy, and Fives.” Echo’s voice wavered on the last one.
Din’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm, even in the midst of the heavy topic. “How did they all get their names? Was it like yours?”
Echo bobbed his head. “In a way. Droidbait… well, he kept acting like bait for the training droids, and he’d get hit by ‘em all the time.”
Din’s brow pinched together. “Did it hurt?”
“Not too bad, but he definitely had a lot of bruises.” Echo waited until Din had relaxed to keep going. “Cutup got his name from one of our trainers. This trainer… he was real tough on us, but Cutup wasn’t afraid to talk back to him. So, the guy called him a cutup, and he used that as his name.”
Din giggled. “That’s wizard.”
Echo grinned, recognizing Wrecker’s vernacular on Din’s tongue already. “Isn’t it?” He took a deep breath as Hevy’s image entered his mind. “We named my brother Hevy, because not only was he the strongest of us, but he also loved heavy machinery. He used the biggest blaster the clones are allowed to carry, a Z-6 blaster cannon.”
Din’s eyes doubled in wonder. “ Whoa .”
Echo chuckled. Hevy would’ve loved this kid, no doubt.
That left him with one more name to review. Echo fought the glassiness that had already started to overtake his vision.
“Fives got his name from his CT number. Do you remember Tech telling you about those?” Din nodded. “Fives’ was CT-5555, so he shortened it to Fives. Fives and I… we were really close, because we lost our other brothers early on in the war.”
Din deflated. He searched Echo’s gaze before he asked a question in a quiet and cautious voice. “Can I ask what happened to them?”
The corners of Echo’s mouth lifted as he nodded. “They’d want their stories to be told.” Echo exhaled a breath and went on. “We were stationed at an outpost on a moon. It was our first mission, and we had been there for a long time. Nothing had ever happened, but one night, we were suddenly attacked by droids.”
Din inhaled a sharp breath. Echo softened; it would be all too familiar for the boy, based on what Echo had seen once they had arrived on Aq Vetina.
“Droidbait was one of the first to try to hold them off, but there were too many of them. The rest of us got out of the station, but Cutup got taken by local wildlife. We had some reinforcements arrive, two of our finest commanding officers, but even they weren’t enough to overrun the droids.”
Echo’s mouth was getting dry. It was never quite easier to tell this story, but it did heal little fractals in his soul each time. The pain would turn into mending eventually.
“That’s when Hevy gave his life for ours by blowing up the whole base. His actions not only saved both our commanding officers, Fives, and I, but it also told the Republic that we were in trouble, and prevented a major attack on our homeworld of Kamino.”
Din’s lip was starting to quiver again, but his voice was still fairly strong when he managed a response to Echo’s story. “He was a hero.”
Echo closed his eyes and blew out a heavy breath. “He was. Because of what he did, giving his life for Fives and I, we were able to fight in the war for a long time, side-by-side. His loss, and my other brothers’, never got easier to deal with, but… I know that they did what they did for a reason, and I wanted to honor that the best I could by moving forward and continuing their fight.”
Din was silent after that. Echo reopened his eyes to see the boy staring at his lap, fresh tear tracks visible on his cheeks. Echo’s heart leapt into his throat at the mere thought of accomplishing the opposite of what he had wanted by upsetting Din further, but before he could do anything, Din began to move.
The boy slid off the chair and practically fell into Echo’s side, wrapping his arms around the ARC trooper the best he could. Echo froze for a few heartbeats, too shocked to do anything just yet, but he eventually came to his senses and gently held Din closer to his side.
Din sniffled back his tears and spoke, his voice muffled from where he was practically buried in Echo’s side. “I’m sorry about your brothers, Echo.”
Echo was selfishly grateful that Din didn’t ask about Fives. That was a story he wasn’t ready to tell.
“It’s okay.” Echo gave the boy’s back a soft tap. “I’ve moved on now, but it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten them.” Echo dared to lower his voice and go on. “One day, you’ll be able to do the same, too, because their sacrifice was the same as Hevy’s.”
Din lifted his face from Echo’s side. It was still wet with tears, but there was a newfound strength there that the ARC trooper could clearly see within his dark eyes. “They’re heroes, just like your brother.”
Echo smiled and nodded. “They are.”
Din returned his smile. His expression morphed into something more pensive before he spoke again. “If your brothers all give each other nicknames, and you all gave me a nickname… does that mean I’m your brother now, too?”
Din’s expression was something so breathlessly hopeful that Echo found himself speechless at first. After so many years spent witnessing the galaxy’s outward opposition to clones, it was hard to imagine that someone on the outside, even a child like Din, would ever want to be counted amongst their ranks. But here he was, practically pleading with his eyes full of wonder to be considered one of them.
And who was Echo to refuse him?
“Yeah, Mando.” Echo set his hands on Din’s shoulders and nodded. “It does.”
Din grinned, the last traces of sadness fleeing from his gaze as he bounced on his heels. He then retreated back to his seat and all but jumped into it. Echo blinked a few times at the quick and unexpected change in pace, but then he laughed.
It was all too similar to both Fives and Hevy.
“Well, I better make good on my namesake then, right?”
Din clapped his hands together excitedly, then tensed as his head whipped towards the bunks. When no one grumbled or swore about getting woken up, Din relaxed and continued. This time, his voice was a whisper.
“Can I tell you another story?”
Echo smiled and leaned back in his own chair, suddenly grateful he wasn’t alone anymore. “I’d be honored.”
Din straightened in severity and nodded, letting his smile linger as he got right into it.
“This one starts ten thousand years ago, with a man named Mandalore the Great.”
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next part
#the bad batch#the mandalorian#din djarin#tbb hunter#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#tbb crosshair#tbb echo#tbb omega#the bad batch fanfiction#the bad batch fic#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fic#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#missing piece#badbatchdalorian
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Drawn Together-Chapter 6
Pairing: Tech x Jedi! Reader
The Bad Batch are on the run after the events on Pantora when they run into a mysterious stranger who offers them assistance. Who is this stranger, and why does it seem like they know Echo? The story will follow the events of the series once established.
Dearest reader, thank you for sticking through 5 chapters of setup. Let the relationship develop!
Well, that didn't go as smoothly as you hoped. Enjoy some downtime with Tech while the Batch lays low.
Chapter 7
Outside the windshield, stars stretch into lines as the Marauder jumps into hyperspace, the blue tunnel washing over the cabin. Hunter breaks the silence, “We’ll lay low for a while. There’s a dead moon on the Outer Rim, barely a blip on any chart. We’ve used it before.” He pauses, looking at you. “You’re welcome to stay with us, or we can drop you somewhere quiet. Your choice.”
You consider it. "I... still haven’t made up my mind. Everything down there reminded me of who I once was, but it also highlighted how much has changed.” You paused, furrowing your brow. "Also, running with a Jedi puts your team at unnecessary risk; are you sure you want that?”
With a confident smile, Hunter states, “We wouldn’t be here without you. I think that earns you a spot on the team.”
“No rush. You’ve earned time to think.” Echo responds affirming his sergeant’s sentiments.
Everyone gets comfortable as the ship travels through hyperspace, the adrenaline fading and drowsiness creeping in. The ambiance on the ship is quiet, with most of the squad either asleep or resting. A solitary overhead light casts a gentle glow over the common area. Seated alone at the table, you are surrounded by several well-worn, leather-bound journals from your pack, jotting down notes in the margin of one page while quietly murmuring in an ancient dialect. Sleep remains elusive, even in your tired state.
A soft mechanical whir signals the door opening from the cockpit. Tech steps through the threshold, looking up from his data pad, surprised. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake.”
You react, looking up quickly, straightening slightly, while one hand instinctively slides protectively over your notes before you realize who it is.” Oh—Tech. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He shakes his head. “You didn’t. I… don’t sleep much.” He pauses when he sees the spread of texts in front of you. “Neither do you, I take it?”
“Not since Order 66. Dreams have a way of finding me when I do.”
Tech nods, quietly understanding. He walks closer, eyeing the journals curiously. “Those are… ancient. Jedi in origin? The characters seem unique?”
“Some are. Others came from fringe temples and Force-adjacent sects. I’ve been trying to translate them for years. So far, all I’ve got to show is bits and pieces, my master was obsessed with uncovering lost history.”
Tech leans slightly, scanning one of the open pages. The script is narrow, flowing, and almost musical in its form. “This… isn’t any variation of Aurebesh I know. Nor does it seem to appear in any Republic linguistic database.”
“That’s because it’s pre-Republic. It’s called Tal’reesh. Root dialect of a forgotten civilization near the Unknown Regions. Some believe they were early Force-users…long before the Jedi Order existed.”
Tech’s eyes light up with a spark of genuine interest. “Fascinating. May I?” gesturing to the table.
You nod, and he slides into the seat across from you. He picks up one of the journals carefully, thumbing through a few pages.
“These characters… they feel mathematical. Not just written, but patterned. I wonder if the language is layered, like a code?”
You sit up straighter now, surprised at his observation. “You’re the first person to notice that. I have had the same suspicion. My master believed their language embodied the Force, manifested through symbol, rhythm, and intention.”
“Like linguistic fractals…”
“Exactly,” finding solace in the mutual understanding.
Both of you fall silent, leaning over the same text. The soft hum of the ship merges with the quiet scratch of the stylus on the datapad. Eventually, you glance up at him, your expression softer now. “You know… I didn’t expect to find anyone who could keep up with this kind of work. Let alone... be interested. It wasn’t exactly popular even among Jedi.”
“Well, I don’t often find people who speak in linguistics theory and ancient dialects at the same time. It is… unexpected. But not unwelcome.”
___________
Later the next day, the Marauder exits hyperspace and lands in the center of a vast canyon beneath a pale blue sky. The moon is quiet, barren, and windless. Just craggy rocks, shallow caves, and silence. The Batch has established a temporary camp just outside the ship. A small fire flickers in a rocky alcove, illuminating their faces. Tech calibrates a portable scanner nearby, while Wrecker lies back on a blanket of gear.
Another stretch of quiet hours passes before Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad, realizing you’ve disappeared. The next time Tech finds you, you’re again seated at the common area table on board the Marauder. He steps in, eyes immediately finding yours.
“I had hoped you would be here,” he says, voice low and almost warm with familiarity.
You glance up from your notes, lips tugging into a faint smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“I assumed.” He steps closer, but doesn’t sit just yet. Instead, he looks over the scattered texts again. “You’ve made progress since last time,” observing some new lines of translation.
You tap the margin of one journal with a stylus. “A little. One of the root symbols here seems to repeat in ritual context…see the curve, and how it mirrors this passage from a completely different source?” You lift the journal, showing him exactly where. “ I think it might represent more than a word. A concept, maybe.”
He leans over your shoulder, studying the inked curves intently. “I’ve been thinking,” Tech says slowly, finally. “I’ve never encountered a language like this. It's as much a puzzle as it is text. I want to understand it.” He hesitates, as though the following words take a particular effort. “Would you teach me?”
You blink, not expecting that. “You want to learn Tal’reesh?”
“I do. I find the structure fascinating… plus there’s always a benefit to learning another language.. Even a dead one.”
You look at him for a long beat, then nod. “Alright. But I’ll warn you, it’s slow going.”
Tech finally sits, placing his datapad aside. “Some of the most worthwhile pursuits begin with a slower pace. That said, you might be surprised by my affinity for languages,” he finishes confidently.
You laugh, impressed by his confidence, and pass him a blank sheet and an old transcription key you compiled long ago. “Then let’s start with the basics. The root glyphs. They’re drawn, not written. Like... weaving meaning into shape.” As you speak, Tech listens with undivided focus, stylus in hand, and the night continues like this until the need for sleep calls you both.
_________________
The next morning a soft sun ascends above the rugged ridges of the deserted moon as dust dances lightly in the morning breeze. The Marauder lies quietly among the rocks, its hull shimmering in the faint light of dawn, as its crew gathers around their improvised camp, savoring their limited rations. Hunter speaks up, asking whether you have made a decision about joining them.
“Maybe I’ll stick around. At least until the next crazy idea gets one of you nearly crushed by a cave-in, or falls from ridiculous heights,” you joke.
Hunter smiles. “So… tomorrow, then?”
You laugh quietly, finally letting yourself relax a little. “ But seriously, I think I’d like to stay. With your squad. I feel this is what I’m supposed to be doing right now.”
“You’re sure?”
“I spent the war following orders, watching people fight and die for a Republic. I convinced myself I was just doing my duty.” You pause, not realizing the weight of those words until they leave your lips. “But now I think I understand. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a general. Or a scholar. Maybe I was meant to be this. Someone who doesn’t abandon the people who need help, when it counts.”
“Then you’re welcome here.”
You chuckle slightly at his sincerity. “That said… I’ve been out of practice. If I’m going to pull my weight, I need to sharpen up. Would your squad be willing to run me through some training exercises?”
Hunter chuckles lightly, turning his attention toward the others. “You hear that?”
Wrecker grins, already hopping to his feet. “Training time? I love training time!”
Echo laughs, shaking his head, “You might regret asking.”
Tech is ahead of the curve; he is already making a schedule for you on his datapad. “We’ll tailor a hybrid routine. Close quarters, blaster defense, squad coordination—perhaps a Force reaction test.”
“I’ll help too! I’ve been training with them for months now!” Omega chimes in excitedly.
“Alright then. Let’s see if this old Jedi can still keep up.”
—------------
Later in the day, the sun sits high overhead, creating elongated shadows over the rough landscape. A new array of challenges is set up: barricades, close combat areas, “training dummies”, and designated dueling circles.
“I’ve scheduled a full day of targeted drills. Each of us will focus on a core specialization. We’ll focus on combat, tactics, firearms, and reaction testing,” Tech announces, gesturing to a schedule displayed on this datapad. “First will be a hand-to-hand combat exercise with Wrecker. We’ve set up a makeshift combat area right outside camp.” He gestures to the circle off to the side of the camp, indicating it was time to begin.
After a few moments of preparation, the others form a loose circle as Wrecker steps forward into the zone, cracking his knuckles and rolling the tension from his neck. He grins widely, shaking out the muscles in his arms. “Alright, Jedi, let’s see what you’ve got.”
Echo leans over to Hunter and whispers, “What do you think? I’m a little worried the General won’t go easy on him,” as he watches you approach the makeshift ring. Hunter laughs, “It could go either way.”
You approach keeping your stance loose, hands relaxed, knees slightly bent. The height difference between you two couldn’t be more comical. Any other observers would take Wrecker in an instant and claim you a longshot, but everyone in Batch knew size didn’t necessarily matter when it came to a Jedi.
Tech signals the go-ahead, and Wrecker charges in, broad and fast his full body weight behind him. You know you can’t meet his strength head-on; instead, you sidestep, pivot, and flow around him like water, allowing him to rush past you.
Unfazed, he returns once more, swinging broadly— he misses. You crouch low as he stumbles ahead. Spotting an opportunity, you leverage his momentum to slip behind him, tapping the back of his armor with two fingers. Wrecker trips over a rock, tumbling down and hitting the ground with a resounding thud.
“Okay… didn’t see that coming, “ he grunts from the ground.
A small smile appears on Hunter’s lips. “She didn’t throw a single punch.”
“Efficient use of energy and motion. Impressive,” Tech nods approvingly adding the outcome to his report.
“That was amazing!” Omega grins, absolutely fascinated.
“Best two out of three!” Wrecker shouts, unwilling to give in. The second round plays out similarly to the first, though to Wrecker’s credit, it lasts much longer this time.
Hunter is next, prepared to spar with improvised weapons this time. He twirls a training staff in his hand as you mimic the movement, showing you're not one to shy away from a challenge.
Like Wrecker, Hunter initiates the attack, delivering precise and purposeful strikes. You respond to each hit with quick parries, your staff slicing through the air to meet his with deadly accuracy. You move with clarity, anticipation guiding your every step. A series of rapid exchanges ends with you spinning around him and knocking his staff out of position.
“Whoa…” Omega breathes out, mesmerized by both combatants’ movements. Such distinctly different styles meeting in combat. Echo leans in to reply to Omega, “Nothing more impressive than watching a Jedi in action, I’m still not used to it.”
Hunter resets, coming in harder now, but you’re quicker. You feint, duck, and finally sweep his legs in one smooth motion, knocking him flat on his back. Hunter blinks up at you from the ground, your staff only inches from his throat, and holds his hands up, signaling defeat, “Alright. That one’s yours.”
You smile and offer a hand to help him to his feet. “Good match.”
Today’s final session involved blaster target practice with Echo and Tech. They created a makeshift firing range by stacking rocks of different sizes and shapes to mimic dummy targets at various distances. Echo and Tech fire first and deliver precise fire, taking down targets effortlessly.
You stand at the line, gripping a standard DC-17. Initially, your stance is questionable. "Too cautious,” as Echo noted, and work to correct with Tech’s subtle advice. With that adjustment, you manage shots that hit center-mass. Not always bulls-eyes, but consistent enough.
“Not bad. Stay light on your feet,” Echo encourages as you round to complete the last circuit.
Tech finalizes the last inputs on the data pad, assessing the results from your previous round. “Lateral reaction time is above average. Accuracy stands at 78%. Not terrible for someone trained with a lightsaber.”
You smile, brushing sweat from your brow. “I’ll take it for now.”
You complete the last round of training, and all gather at camp as the sun sets on the deserted moon. The Batch is at ease, weary yet content. You sit next to Omega, who radiates energy from observing the training throughout the day. “You were incredible today. Especially with the staff, like, really incredible.”
“Thanks,” you smile, happy that you managed to impress the young girl, hoping it is the same for the rest of the Batch.
Hunter confirms your thoughts. “You handled yourself well across the board. You’ve got the instincts, I think you’ll fit in nicely.”
“Still say I slipped,” Wrecker grins, not admitting a fair defeat.
Tech raises a finger coming to your defense, “Statistically, it was a well-executed maneuver. You tripped.”
“Yeah, yeah…” He grumbles.
“Thanks for doing this. I appreciate that you didn’t have to,” you smile at everyone. It felt great to be part of a team again.
As the night progresses, the Batch rests by the fire as it crackles low, casting a warm glow over their tired faces. You lean back against a smooth rock, the flames flickering in your eyes as you watch the others in the firelight. A comfortable silence lingers until you decide to break it.
“So… what’s the plan? I mean, after this. What are you all hoping for?”
Hunter looks across the fire at you. The question hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. “I think you’ve earned an explanation. We’ve only got one goal, really. Lay low, stay alive. Try to find a way to disappear before the Empire finds us again.” He pauses, leaning forward, elbows on knees.
“But first, we’re heading to Ord Mantell. There’s a contact there. Goes by Cid. Obi-Wan Kenobi passed the name to one of our allies before he… vanished. Apparently, they used to work with Jedi, helped them off the grid during the war. Smuggling, information, jobs. We hope they have some information on a bounty hunter targeting Omega. That’s the trouble we were running from on Pantora before we met.”
He stops allowing you time to absorb that information, then continues, “Unless you have any better options?” his tone hopeful that might be the key to uncovering this mystery.
You shake your head, “My contacts wouldn’t be beneficial unless you want to sell some artifacts, and if I’m being honest, I would not want any of them knowing I’m alive…”
“As expected. Looks like we’re staying on our current objective.”
"For what it's worth any contact of Obi-Wan's should be pretty knowledgeable, it's a good start."
_____________
Nightfall settles on the outer ring moon, and most of the Batch is already asleep, except for two usual suspects. Tech ascends the ramp to the ship with quiet purpose, datapad tucked under one arm. His pace is steady—he’s come to look forward to this time, your nightly language lessons. As he rounds the corner, he pauses.
You were nestled in the corner seat, rather than your typical spot at the table, with your knees drawn up and a medbay blanket covering your legs. A soft light illuminates the space next to you while you turn a page in a worn paperback.
“No journals tonight?”
You look up, startled, and then smile sheepishly. ”Ah—sorry. I needed something lighter. It’s just a novel tonight. My brain couldn’t take any more ancient syntax.”
Tech hesitates a beat. His voice faintly drops when he responds, “I see. I had hoped we would continue the lesson on interlaced root glyphs.”
You pick up on it immediately, your smile softening.”Hey—don’t go walking out on me now. It’s a mystery novel. The fun kind, where everyone’s a suspect and no one makes sense until the last ten pages.”
You hold the book out slightly, tilting it so he can see the cover. “You’re welcome to join. I’ve only just started, but I bet we can figure out the ending faster than the author expects.”
Tech considers. Routine broken, but not unpleasantly so. After a moment, he steps forward and lowers himself onto the seat beside her.
“Well... I am statistically inclined to detect narrative inconsistencies.”
You laugh. “Perfect. You're exactly the overthinker I need for this.”
The two of you scoot in close enough to share the book, heads occasionally leaning in to read the same passage, exchanging quiet theories between page turns.
“Wait. But this character wasn’t even present at the time of the disappearance. How could he have moved the body?” Tech points out.
“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been saying since chapter six. But I’m pretty sure the author forgot their timeline.”
A few more pages, and you reach the end. You read the final paragraph aloud—and then stare at it, stunned.
“Wait. That’s it?”
Tech blinks through the confusion. “That conclusion lacks all structural cohesion. The motive is shallow, the timeline fractured, and the supposed twist contradicts three previously established alibis.”
“In other words, that was awful.” You both begin to chuckle. Initially quiet, then gradually more openly. It’s soft enough not to disturb the others, but it's that genuine, hearty laughter.
“I cannot believe we spent three nights decoding forgotten Jedi syntax, and this is what finally defeats us,” his tone full of disbelief.
You reply, laughter still on your lips. “Well, to be fair, you were the one who said it might be 'beneficial' to read more literature.”
He adjusts his goggles and leans back with a long exhale, clearly relaxed in her presence.”I withdraw the recommendation. At least where this author is concerned.”
You nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “Still… thanks for sticking around.”
“It was… surprisingly enjoyable.”
______
The Marauder is being prepared for departure. Wrecker reloads the camp crates into the cargo hold, Omega checks supplies, and you stand off to the side, assisting Tech in recalibrating a damaged sensor array on the wing.
You laugh softly at something he says. Tech isn’t entirely sure what was funny, but the sound catches him off guard. He glances at you longer than he intends to.
Across the clearing, Echo stands with Hunter, both casually observing.
“You seeing what I’m seeing?” Echo states clearly in disbelief.
“Yeah. Tech’s… smiling. That’s new.”
Echo crosses his arms, smirking slightly. “I don’t think he realizes it yet, but he’s definitely spending more time with her than with his datapads.”
Hunter raises an eyebrow. “He’s still bringing datapads to her, though.”
They chuckle as Tech reaches for a tool, but when your hands briefly touch, Tech freezes. It’s small but significant. He fumbles slightly but recovers quickly.
“There it is.”
“Yeah. He’s in trouble.”
—-----------
Tech sits at his console, ostensibly running diagnostics, but he’s only half-focused. His fingers hover over code while his mind is elsewhere. The cockpit door hisses open, and Echo leans casually against the frame.
“You okay?”
“Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, confused at the assumption.
“Oh, no reason. Just asking why you’ve recalibrated that same sequence three times.”
Tech looks at the screen. He has recalibrated it three times. “Ah. I… may be preoccupied.”
Echo approaches and takes a seat, uninvited yet accepted. "Listen, Tech, you don’t really show your feelings openly, so I’ll be direct. It’s perfectly fine to care about someone, even in situations like this."
Tech hesitates. It’s subtle, but something in him softens.”It’s… unfamiliar. Logical processes tend to degrade when emotional input is introduced. I’ve noticed increased distraction, irregular thought patterns, occasional lapses in—”
“You like her, Tech.”
Tech blinks at him.
“And I think she likes you too. You’re allowed to let that happen. We don’t get many chances for this. You’re still you… just a version that laughs more."
There’s a pause before Tech nods slowly, almost unsure of himself for once.”I will… consider your analysis.”
“Just don’t overanalyze it so much that you miss the moment.”
#star wars bad batch#star wars#tbb x reader#tbb tech#tbb#bad batch tech#the bad batch#tech x jedi oc#tech x jedi reader#tech#tech x reader
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Thanks for the tag, @brokenphoenix99! :D
You have to go on a 72-hour hyperspace journey with the last Star Wars Character saved in your photos. Who is your traveling buddy?
Shocking no one, Waxer and Boil 😅 The sketch, which I apparently saved onto my phone in September, is very much nsfw, but here's a little crop of it:
So, I guess they're going to fool around in their cabin while I amuse myself with the astrogation equipment?
No-pressure tags: @elismor @petrifiedforests @the-little-moment @coline7373 @kaijusplotch
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Saturday Morning Vid Recs - Space and Robots
@tafkarfanfic asked me for vid recs that are similar to the following vids:
Data’s Dream by GayleF (Gayle) and TasheryS which premiered at Escapade in 1994 - made on a VCR!! - and was remastered by morgandawn in 2004. Definitely check out the Fanlore page about Data’s Dream. Star Trek + multi-source.
Starships by bironic. Multi-source. The history of Starships on Fanlore.
These two vids are iconic. Please check them out and learn about their history from the Fanlore page, it's a great look at some vidding history and culture. Amazing vids, do love. As for some recs. I love this kind of prompt. More vids like [this vid] is so much fun. I dug deep into my vid rec archives and brain and bookmarks. I’ve also crowdsourced some recs from the vidding discord. Thank you to @rukbat3, @sandalwoodbox, @fairestcat, @monkeyswithjetpacks, @grammarwoman for the reccing help! And everyone else I might have forgotten.
From Land to Sky - and kicking ass while you're there!
Landsailor by @singlecrow/raven. Multi-source. Swades (We, The People); Master and Commander; 3 Idiots; The Dish; The West Wing; Parks and Recreation; Flight of the Phoenix; NASA archive footage; Apollo 13. ❤️ We're gonna need a bigger boat. Come O’ Eclipse by melodytree. Tenchi: The Samurai Astronomer. Calendar-making! Math puzzles! Astronomy! Politics! Eclipses! Oh my! Galaxyrise by starlady. Multi-source. Apollo 13 (1995), Interstellar (2014), Gravity (2013), Europa Report (2013), Contact (1997), The Martian (2015). This vid is full of so much wonder! The sky calls to us/If we do not destroy ourselves/We will one day venture to the stars. Going through space with the world by bironic. Space Exploration RPF. ❤️❤️❤️ From "day in the life of an astronaut" videos to international stardom; or, Chris Hadfield and his adorable mustache. Monsters of the Cosmos by CherryIce. Thor/MCU. Jane Foster/Science.Cherry’s editing is goddamn incredible. In the last century, black holes have gone from being mathematical curiosities to real objects in the cosmos. This is a vid about Jane Foster and her one true love, Science. Also, Thor is there. Toxic by JinkyO. The Planets (TV - 2019). Humanity/The Solar System. This vid is so fucking brilliant and makes me cackle in love and awe so much. It's dangerous, I'm loving it. Sci-Fi Friday in a Blender by Luminosity. Multi-source. Farscape, Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who. So much happening in this vid. This is among one of the earliest vids I remember watching and became obsessed with back in the day. Supernova Girl by @usuallyhats. Multifandom. Doctor Who, Star Wars, Babylon 5, Steven Universe, Andromeda, Farscape, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Mass Effect, Stargate. So many wonderful brilliant amazing EXCELLENT supernova women and girls. Zoom, zoom, zoom. Space Girl by @aurumcalendula. Multi-source scifi. Inspired by Charmax’s Space Girl vid and Bironic’s The Greatest. This vid has a great selection of newer tv shows and films and it’s fun to play spot that character. But also this vid will grab you by the heart, too. Utterly brilliant, perfection. A must watch!! 'I've been as far in hyperspace as anybody can.' One Girl Revolution by bessyboo. Star Wars, original and prequel. Padme and Leia!! Seeing these two focused on in one Star Wars vid is an adventurous kickass ride. I'll be everything that I want to be. Space Girl by charmax. Multi-source scifi. One of the most beautiful epic space vids out there! I know I’ve recced this before and I’ll rec it again and again and again. My momma told me I should never watch Sci-fi but I did, I did, I did.
Robots! More than wires.
If a Machine by caramarie, Multi-source. Robot narrative focusing on machine origin, intelligence, and interaction with humanity. And Human fallibility. An incredibly rewarding watch and rewatch. This is the story of cables and copper wirings. Electric Avenue by @monkeyswithjetpacks. Multi-source robots! Nate’s multi-vids are always so fun, especially when it’s showcasing classic cinema and all these excellent serials. Electric Avenue has source from 1919 to 2015. His editing is always on fucking point. Don’t miss this vid. We’re gonna rock down to electric avenue. Everybody by @kuwdora. Star Trek, the Borg. This vid was actually inspired by the Backstreet Boys original music video. I still have the vivid memory of watching or rewatching the original music video in @ars-amatoria ’s kitchen. And then at some point realizing it is perfect for the Borg. Am I original, am I the only one? Fembots by Grammarwoman. Multi-source. Sexy sharp editing and fun use of all the sources. The intersection of women and technology: a spectrum of clones, AIs, gynoids, cyborgs, and other artificial creations. On by @rhoboat77. Star Trek: Picard. A Soji fanvid. Rho has the sharpest editing skills this side of the Internet and this Soji vid is so fucking badass and worth 100 rewatches. Can’t hold me down cuz you know I’m a fighter. Que Sera Sera by @ohvienna. Star Trek Voyager and Picard. Seven of Nine.Nobody vids their Seven of Nine love like @ohvienna. You gotta watch this if you love Seven. Whatever will be, will be…"
Journey through Space.
To Touch the Face of God by destina. Multi-source. The Right Stuff (1983, )The Dream Is Alive, From the Earth to the Moon (TV).This is one of the most beautiful moving vids you will EVER, and I mean EVER see. From Chuck Yeager, to the Mercury 7, and on to Apollo and the Space Shuttle Program (STS) - a very human history of the triumphs, joys, and tragedies of the USA's journey into space. Doctor Who on Holiday by sisabet. Farscape, Battlestar Galactica and Doctor Who. A mashup vid of Luminosity’s Sci-Fi Friday in a Blender. This vid inspired me so much. And I have 10 very intense ideas about how I would do my own remix of this vid if I were to make it right now. Fly Me To the Moon by thirdblindmouse. Multi-source. This vid has everything! Alien sex! Xenophilia! Zero-gravity sex! Mpreg!!! Because everyone knows this song is about space sex. Game Night in Space by garrideb. Multi-source. This vid!!!!! IS! SO! MUCH! FUN!! Game on! How are you going to spend those long nights on your starship? Play games, of course! Space poker, space chess, space Monopoly… this is a fanvid celebrating game night in space, set to Don't Stop Me Now by Queen. Starships (Monochromatic Remix) by @monkeyswithjetpacks. Multi-source. See the Fanlore page on the history of Starships (Monochromatic Remix). ALSO check out jetpack-monkey’s extensive notes and side-by-side comparison vid of the original vid and his vid!! He matched Starships shot-for-shot! Most brilliant work ever. The vid notes aren’t on the ao3 page so I HIGHLY recommend checking out the notes on his dreamwidth page! This vid is 10 million kinds of brilliant and technical prowess and perfection.
Vidshow Rec
Alien Invasion! - 30 vids curated and organized into a show by @tafadhali for VidUKon 2024. Featuring films and tv shows: Nope, Attack the Block, Pacific Rim, Venom, Doctor Who, Stargate Atlantis, Star Trek, Prey, Smallville, Rowswell, Supergirl, Arrival, Starship Troopers and more.
Follow these tags to keep up with vid recs this summer:
#saturday morning vid recs
#kuwdora recs
A helpful guide I wrote:
How to Leave Feedback on Fanvids
#saturday morning vid recs#kuwdora recs#vid recs for takfarfanfic#kuwdora vid recs#vid rec#vidding#fanvid#fanvideo#fanvids#fan video#fan videos#fan edit#video edit
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Birthday Kiss #8: Din Djarin
Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader
Word Count: 1,018
Rating: T?
Summary: A Kiss in Private
Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - here's Din.
I don't know if anyone even still cares about this pairing, but ... if you remember Magnetic, this one's for you.
You liked being on Mandalore, because it allowed you to learn more about Din and his people.
On Mandalore, you had no real responsibilities outside of helping to look after Grogu and doing what was necessary to keep the facility operating smoothly. It allowed you to hang back and observe, using your ability to get a read on the others around you, though many of them were covered head to toe in armor at all times.
Thanks to your time spent at the Academy with the Younglings, you didn’t mind when the Mandalorian children gravitated toward you because they wanted to be near Grogu. And since Din’s responsibilities kept him busy for much of the day every day, having something to do on your own was a relief for the hours you were apart.
But that didn’t mean that you were content to stay inside the compound.
You missed the thrill of being in hyperspace. You missed not knowing what the next day would bring. You missed interacting with people while you helped Din. But most of all, you missed Din, and the man you’d gotten to know during the months you spent with him before returning to Mandalore.
Things on Mandalore were no different than he’d warned you they would be, but you still hoped that after more time had passed, it would change. You hadn’t left the planet since you’d gone back to the Academy to get the rest of your belongings, and that short trip had been the last time you were truly alone with Din and Grogu - and it was tough to handle.
On your way back from one of the training rooms, Koska stopped you in the hallway, calling your name just before you rounded the corner. “I’m supposed to tell you that the Mand’alor is looking for you.”
“He is?” Taking a breath and hoping your expression didn’t give anything away, you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at her. “Where is he?”
“He’s with the kid by his ship. He said to get the bag from their quarters and then go meet him there.”
“What is -” “I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”
It only took you a few minutes to do as she’d asked, unlocking Din’s door and hefting the bag on his bed over one shoulder before you headed to the docking bay, nodding at a few people as you passed.
You tried not to get your hopes up - after all, he hadn’t told you to pack, and he hadn’t said a word about going anywhere that morning when he’d said goodbye.
But the ramp on the Razor II was down when you got there, the interior lights glowing in the fading daylight… and you knew that that wouldn’t have been the case if he wasn’t planning on leaving.
“Mando?” You called out for him as you got closer, searching for any sign of him near the ship. “Are you here?”
You caught a brief flash of Grogu’s thoughts, but it was mostly excitement and nothing more, which disheartened you further, because if Grogu was excited, then there was a reason.
And when you entered the cargo bay, you saw neatly stacked crates of supplies along one wall, along with a small bag - most likely Grogu’s - already sitting on the cot. You frowned at that, realizing that it meant Grogu was likely going with him.
Instead of dwelling on that, though, you secured the bag over your shoulder and climbed up to the top level of the ship, since it was the only other place he could have been.
You saw Grogu immediately, the kid sitting in the second cockpit chair and raising one clawed hand to wave at you. Before you could speak again, though, he turned away and you heard the sound of the ramp closing, the whirr of it vibrating the ship’s frame gently. Surprise. “Grogu? What -”
“We’re leaving.” You sucked in a breath at the sound of his unmodulated voice, and when you turned to see Din standing in the doorway of the sleeping quarters, beskar-covered arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Where are we going?” It didn’t really matter, so as you spoke you stepped toward him, shock turning into relief. “And how long are -”
“A few weeks.” His smile widened the second your palm made contact with his armored chest, Din using both arms to pull you flush against him. “And we’re going to visit some friends.”
You didn’t know who he meant, but that didn’t matter, either. Instead of asking more questions, you used your free hand to pull his face toward yours, your fingers loosely gripping the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was unnecessary, but you whispered two words - thank you - against his lips before you kissed him, mindful of the fact that Grogu was only a few feet away. His presence meant that you couldn’t get too carried away, so when you broke apart from Din seconds later you smiled, nodding twice. “I thought you were going without me.”
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head slowly, staring at you. “Never. Especially not so close to your birthday.”
“How -”
“Checked your chain code. The Mand’alor can never be too careful about who he’s spending time with” He leaned in again, the man’s mouth meeting yours again briefly. “Now go take those controls. They’re yours today. I already programmed coordinates for you.”
With a delighted laugh, you turned away from him, but before you got too far, Din’s hands were on your hips, the man following you through the small room, though he hung back when you sat down next to Grogu. “Alright, kid.” Tilting your head down to look at him once your hands were in place on the yoke, your smile grew. “You ready?”
You knew he was - you could feel it, along with Din’s excitement, emotions pulsing through the small space as the three of you prepped to take off. It was only a few weeks - but it was a good place to start.
—
#din djarin#the mandalorian#din djarin x reader#din djarin x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character#star wars#the mandalorian fic#din djarin masterlist#pedro pascal masterlist#magnetic masterlist#magnetic#birthday smooches#a kiss in private
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Kay Vess Likes Women: The Post
Okay so originally this was part of a reblog but I decided it should be its own separate thing too!
So behold, since a lot of people are unaware or ignore that Kay Vess from Star Wars Outlaws is into women, more than likely exclusively since she shows no interest in any men over the course of the game (the narrative director refers to her relationship with ND-5 as having "found a brother, you know, some family"), here's a post compiling some of the most obvious moments (there's arguably a lot more, and if you've played feel free to add, but I didn't want to make this too long) in the game. Now obviously Kay's character isn't just "she's gay", there's more to her than that, but it's frustrating seeing that part being overlooked or even erased which is why me and a few others keep going on about it.
Anyway, starting with Selo, where it's so blatant I don't know how people missed it:
youtube
youtube
No clip unfortunately but if you come back to her later, there's a whole bunch of random lines that make it so, SO obvious Kay likes Selo and Selo likes Kay. This one in particular stands out though:
Then there's Quint, and Kay near immediately trying to impress her (look at Kay's reaction to be called "quite the shot"):
youtube
youtube
The rest I'm putting under a read more to shorten this a bit + there's some pretty major story spoilers:
youtube
Ketbine and Wolfwren shippers, eat your heart out. (Please don't take that as ship bashing, I mean it more in a "same vibes" way lol)
Another moment with no clip I can link but this is a possible hyperspace dialogue after working with her on Tatooine. Kay even awkwardly laughs after the "What?":
So there you go. I highly recommend the game if you can play, it's fun! They've fixed many of the issues from the launch and there's lots of settings to fine tune things and make them easier if you're not much of a gamer, including options to turn some of the minigames off (because while Sabacc is great and the Space Wordle slicing is pretty enjoyable, the lockpicking with the dataspike can be annoying if you're someone like me with no rhythm lol).
#kay vess#star wars outlaws#star wars#selo rovak#quint cresadde#vail tormin#i'm not going to bother tagging for spoilers since the major ones are under a read more#also rewatching these clips i can definitely see the difference in the updated cutscenes lol#Youtube
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Writing Your D&D Character Backstory
Creating your D&D character can seem a bit overwhelming, especially if you're new to the game. You have to remember the numbers and abilities that tie into other numbers and your characters species- On top of that, you have to write a story for them? I'll admit, it gets to be a little much.
You can choose to not have a fully fleshed out backstory for your character, and build them with the world you're playing in. (Utilizing amnesia, forgetfulness spells, or curses are always good) Open ended backstories can become a great way for you and the DM to "Yes and-" your way into new plot hooks.
However daunting it might seem, writing your D&D character backstory can be one of the most fun things about the game.
No matter how you play your game, backstories can come in useful, for both role playing your character, and for the DM to write more interesting plot hooks surrounding specific character arcs. It can provide you with contacts in certain cities, allied factions that can help you out in a pinch, or recurring rivals that seek to undo your best-laid plans.
Without further ado, let's get into these tips and tricks I hope will help you through the process of writing your backstory.
1. Who are you?
The most important thing your backstory needs to cover is who exactly your character is. This is essentially what the whole backstory should be about; Building a fleshy cover for that skeleton you made on your character sheet.
A few major essential things your backstory should cover are:
Your name, age, and a physical description of your character.
Where you came from
Does this character have a family? Do they know who they are?
At least one character belief and/or goal.
Simple, right? Your backstory doesn't have to be a 60 page epic about how you went from your hometown to the town over and found a sword along the way.
Getting these things into a backstory is generally enough to begin role playing at a very basic level. It also provides you with a really good basis for adding more to the backstory at a later date, with your DM's approval.
2. Add a bit of Drama
Once you have a good understanding of who your character is, writing drama into your backstory will add depth to your character.
Does your character have love interest that was killed, breaking their heart? Or, maybe your barbarian resents her tribe for choosing a new leader above her?
Whatever the drama is, it's important to have some be open-ended. Unresolved trauma/dramatic events can be an early present for any DM, and gleefully they may unfold your characters story arc in front of you. (Some DM's are not as excited as I am about backstory integration, so make sure to talk to your DM before adding them in.)
Having a few dramatic events in your backstory can help tie your character to the world. Maybe they can't go back to a certain tavern since they got caught cheating at dice, or maybe they need to get to the church several months ride away as quickly as possible to stop their true love from getting married.
Your characters drama is what makes them more 'real'. Having talks with their new-found allies about their lives around campfires, or while in a lull traveling through hyperspace, these stories form unbreakable bonds between characters and will strengthen your own love of your character.
3. Play to your weaknesses
You are flawed, and so is your character. Every character should have at least one major flaw, and a handful of minor ones. When creating your character (unless you are particularly lucky) you should have an ability score in the minuses: Utilize It!
A character with a minus in charisma could be a lovely fool that always manages to say the wrong thing, or a grumpy teenager unable to express themselves properly.
Starting at level 1, your character is going to be inherently weak, whether that be due to lack of experience (EXP) or by some tragic mishap of having all of your powers and abilities stripped away. Writing for the situation is vital, you probably won't have achieved world peace, killed an evil demon, and reinvented the wheel before the campaign starts.
Whatever your character flaws are, there are some simple guidelines that I tend to follow when writing weakness into my character:
Don't go overboard.
Use your character sheet and stats to help.
Don't be a god when you're level 1.
Tie your flaws to your dramatic/traumatic section.
Remember, your flaws are what makes your character interesting, but don't have so many it intrudes on other players fun.
4. Work with your DM
It helps to ask your DM for help when it comes to writing your backstory, since they know how the world works.
With their input you can develop secrets to keep from the other players, write in rivals to challenge you at every turn, write additional characters that can help you out when you need a place to stay in the middle of nowhere.
Any DM worth their salt will help a player develop a character that they enjoy playing. After all, it is a game that we're playing for fun. Don't be afraid to do something weird and off the wall, characters that stray outside of the conventional character stereotypes are often really fun and interesting. That being said, character conventions are nothing to be scared of, adding a twist to the expected can be just as fun.
5. Do multiple drafts
Doing multiple drafts of a backstory is both a luxury and a necessity.
I know I've made many MANY drafts for my PC's, it's fun to scribble down little ideas throughout the day or add in cool details you find in books or on the internet
Sometimes, you simply do not have the time to do multiple drafts, asking your DM if you can change and add certain things once the story starts should not be a problem. If you are unable to do multiple drafts prior to starting, an evolving backstory in this way is a great way to compensate, so long as your DM is game and you don't just make up game breaking character changes midway through a vital encounter.
If you do have the time to do multiple drafts however, this is a vital thing to do. Drafting a characters backstory allows you to take a break, come back and adapt things, change the way some things are written, rethink and rework some of those weirder plot lines.
Making sure that you wrote things in a clear cut, simplistic way so that ambiguity doesn't end up leading to a big misunderstanding in the plot line is very important. More-so, the more drafts you do, the better you end up knowing your character, which, helps those who are new or not confident at role playing.
6. Write in the first person
This one should be obvious, it really helps to get into character.
Writing from your characters perspective allows you to make out-of-character notes within the backstory that clarify situations for anyone reading. Plus your character may have a skewed view of what happened in certain events.
Checklist
Here is a small checklist of things that you might want to consider putting into your backstory, some that I've written about above and some I will leave until a later post. Feel free to pick and choose what you put in and what you leave out.
Description of your character
Information on their hometown and family
The story of how they got their powers/abilities
A good friend that you've lost contact with
A rival
A major flaw
A few minor flaws
A secret
A mystery
An unresolved bit of trauma
A love interest
An object they need to get their hands on
Ties to a particular town / city / faction
A vice
A morally questionable belief or ideal
Odd quirks
I hope this post helped you to write your character backstory in some way, I will be doing a part 2 and further posts in my tricks and tips series, for players and DMs alike.
Thanks for reading my first ever post!
#dungeons and dragons#dnd#dnd character#dnd oc#dnd5e#character building#character backstory#character blog#writing#creative writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#ttrpg#ttrpg community#indie ttrpg#ttrpg art#pathfinder#critical role#dnd blog#fun games#dungeon master#notetaker#homebrew#dnd campaign#first post#character flaws#flaws and all#love your flaws#flaws#writing tips
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Here
Setting: The Mandalorian, doesn't matter when, Din exists, that's all we need to know for now!
Characters: The Mandalorian x female reader (AFAB, no mention of breasts)
Length: 1.8k
Rating: Minors do not enter! M for mature. Here be smut. That's all it is.
He stalked towards you and reached for the tools, your hands realizing how tightly they were grasped around the metal objects. Wordlessly, he stared at you - you knew he was, after weeks of working nearly silently side by side you knew how to read his cues, though none had felt so strong and deliberate as this before - and tugged the tools out of your grip. He tossed them on the floor and you flinched at the sound. Without breaking your eye contact with his through the visor, he took another step closer and raised a tentative hand, hovering just above your hip.
~~~~
In the dark, everything was amplified. It didn't matter that you couldn't see, when your skin grasped more than any other sense, when your ears heard every sigh and echo off the metal walls.
He had seen you before, using whatever fancy tech he wanted in his helmet while you were bare below him, or pressed in front of him while he took you from behind over a storage crate in the hold. It gave him a power over you, that he could move around you in the dark, follow your steps as you did tasks outside the ship, even see how long you've been asleep based on your temperature and breathing. Sometimes he was even able to coax you awake under dim lights with his mouth hot and purposeful between your legs and his hand guiding your own over your eyes as you awoke.
It happened when he came back from a hunt, sometimes it went poorly and he wanted to get out his frustration, or it went well and he was still high on adrenaline. He was still not one to lose control and give over to his emotions. It was never reckless, every movement intentional and forceful. It made you wonder just what he did to deal with it before you were here. Other times, when the ship was in hyperspace for a long time, or you were waiting between jobs as he worked on the ship, that was when you took charge.
But -
The first time it happened, he had wrangled a quarry into the carbon chamber more forcefully than usual, but you couldn't blame him, the thing was running its mouth and jerking its several arms around just enough to be annoying but not enough to provoke a fight, and it knew that the puck said warm and unharmed, so short of taping its (large, smelly mouth) mouth shut, the Mandalorian was at a bit of a loss.
Your hands were clenched around the tools you had been using when he came in, perhaps unconsciously ready to use the wrench and mallet as weapons, which would have been about as useless as throwing a rubber dart in comparison to everything the Mandalorian was, let alone carrying.
He stalked towards you and reached for the tools, your hands realizing how tightly they were grasped around the metal objects. Wordlessly, he stared at you - you knew he was, after weeks of working nearly silently side by side you knew how to read his cues, though none had felt so strong and deliberate as this before - and tugged the tools out of your grip. He tossed them on the floor and you flinched at the sound. Without breaking your eye contact with his through the visor, he took another step closer and raised a tentative hand, hovering just above your hip. The heat of him crowding around you in the cool of the hull, the disturbance of the air against your chest and the line of your hip, were just enough to make you glance down and then back at him. You caught your breath as some sort of emotion rolled through you and your chest heaved with a sudden breath, you caught your lip, and nodded.
The stillness shattered as the background hums in the hold suddenly seemed elevated, giving a low muted thrumming noise for your shared breathes and rustles of clothes. The Mandalorian gripped your sides with both hands, large hands pressed against your soft flesh, before spinning you around so quickly you almost get twisted around your own feet, but he seemed to predict that and lifted you even as you stumbled, and your feet landed evenly below you as you reached forward to grab the side of the crate he had pushed you against for balance. Your brain was moving half a step slower than your body as base functions took over for touch, heat, feel, smell, and you realized he was going to try to take you from behind. You wanted to be able to see him, the way he would hold you, how the beskar would feel under your hands, the way his shoulders would shake with the effort of - oh gods, you almost buckled as he brushed against you. You gasped wait and gripped his hands. You felt him stop and hold himself stock still as you turned around. You let go of his hands and boosted yourself up on the crate, now seated facing him. He was still frozen, breath somehow muted under his helmet, the only sign of life from his tense frame was the rising of his shoulders with breath above the armor.
You skipped his hands this time, reaching forward and grabbing his belt, guiding him back towards you. It’s ok you said. Now his hands fell to the outside of your knees, and you grabbed the back of his gloves again, sliding his hands to the inside of your thighs even as you parted your legs to him. Please you said determinedly.
There was no more need to pause, to wait, to ask. He acted on what he wanted, you told him what you wanted in return, there was no need for conversation about the helmet, his face, even your clothes. You were wearing a long wrap today, and you started pulling the fabric up under his hands as he crowded against you again. With only your underwear left, you tilted your hips toward him and leaned back on your hands as he pushed himself firmly against you, the delicate fabric hiding nothing, your warmth and softness reacting to the fabric, armor, and warm swell now cradled between your thighs and against your core. You breathed out, no control left over your instincts as you moaned at the sense of pressure against your core. Now your hands both grasped, frantic, uncoordinated but with the same goal, as he ripped your underwear down your legs, and you grabbed his shoulders to grind against him even as he worked at his belt and zipper. The reverberation of the sound of your own voice continued against the background echoes of the ship’s engine, your breathy gasps tuning higher and high, and an uneven low moan from the modulator of the helmet, now close enough to you that you could hear the tone of his speech in a language you didn’t know between his own broken groans.
He reached a hand between you even as you hitched your legs higher on his hips, angling and opening yourself even more fully to him. The texture of the leather dragged on your most sensitive skin, and you couldn’t help it, you had to close your eyes as your head fell back, and you began to beg. Please, please you gasped I want you, I just want you and you felt just the tips of his fingers on your wetness, nothing but the grip of his hands and his wordless, sightless stare enough to make you ready. You didn’t want to feel anything else first, you just wanted your Mandalorian, all of him, all at once.
He muttered something in the strange, uneven words, accented on some syllable and pattern you couldn’t quite follow, especially in your current state, before hearing Basic again, -so fucking beautiful, please let me- I can’t stop- and you felt one gloved hand guiding his thick cock to your entrance, and slowly, driving himself fully into you. Your head came up with a snap and a gasp, and you worked your arms around his shoulders, your forehead meeting the side of his helmet as you pushed yourself as close as you could against him, and you felt him meet you, one arm wrapped fully around your lower back and one across your shoulders, dragging a hand up and down your spine.
He was stretching you so fully, so deep that you needed this, needed to anchor yourself to the rest of him, the only way that your body could make sense of the delicious weight of him inside you, pressed against you, wrapped around you. You both fully gave up on words in any language as he rocked his hips against you. You wrapped everything in your being around him as close as possible, your mouth next to his ear only separated by the helmet. Something about the firm press of beskar against the planes of your body set free a permission in yourself that you didn’t know you needed, to grab at him, gasp as loudly as you needed, hold yourself as much as you could, knowing that he could stand up to it. You didn’t want him to pull away to drive into you, his whole solid being as close to you as possible and throbbing deeply was all you needed.
He matched your intensity, holding you steady as he worked against you, feeling your sweet warmth holding him inside, every soft curve and every ridge of muscle. Your softness and your strength, matching his, never needing to leave, just needing to be closer, closer, closer-
Your voices were in sync as your hips and arms moved together, holding you against him on the edge of the crate, and you felt him move faster and more shallow, felt the pressure build as your most inner muscles began to tighten. He found his words in Basic first. -sweet girl, fucking feels so good, fuck, I’m- I’m- You caught up and cut him off, tightening your ankles and raising your knees to widen the spread of your hips. You were past coy now, crying out please don’t stop, I want you to come inside me, please- permission asked and given, he grasped your ass and nearly lifted you off the crate as he rocked his hips against you, and now all you needed to do, and really could do, was hold on tight as you felt the tight point of heat inside you suddenly break, and thank the gods that quarry was well in carbon, as your voice cried out against the steel walls of the hull. His voice just behind yours as he kneaded his hands in your soft flesh in time with the pulsing stretch of him inside you as he came, filling you with each final thrust between your legs.
You lost the sense of where your arms and body were and were fully draped on him. Head still leaning against the helmet, not realizing your hands had gone so far as to burrow under the cloak and nearly under the neck of the cowl leading to the bottom of his helmet. He loosened his bruising grip on your hips and used one hand to lean against as he set you fully down on the crate, one arm still supporting you around your back. You remained pressed together, front-to-front, and-
As you recalled, that was how it started.
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NFITH Ch. 1 - New Territory [Fox x OFC]
Warnings and Information: New to Coruscant and adjusting horribly to her new job as a senator’s aide, Ravena Olaen often finds herself lost on the best of days, and the target of her boss's wrath on the worst of them. Ravena could almost swear she’s being set up to fail as the job standards become more and more impossible. Fortunately she has someone in high places looking out for her before too long when she finds a friend in Coruscant's thankless protector: Marshal Commander Fox. It only takes a simple act of pity to dramatically change each other’s lives. This story started out as a reader-insert and is now an OC fic. Please see the author's commentary at the end for more details. Third Person POV of an original female character. Establishing chapter where Ravena moves to Coruscant for intentionally vague reasons, for the time being. Ravena does not meet Fox in this chapter, only an exceptionally generous (and sweet) older neighbor. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Narrative and stylistic use of italics.
Word count: 3,120
Moving to the centermost jewel of the Core Worlds for a career change was an impulsive decision spurred on by the start of the Clone Wars some time ago. Feelings of great uncertainty for her future in this developing chapter of her life became a dragging, tugging weight she could no longer ignore. What once provided anchorage to keep Ravena stable and sure threatened to drown her in the ever-shifting tide if she did not rid herself of these hindrances. And soon.
Something new was waiting for her on Coruscant – the city that never sleeps. Ravena just wouldn't be sure until she got there.
Loved ones rallied around her as she made preparations for the plunge, showing their support and lending many a helping hand in packing most of her life away in tidy little boxes and crates. It proved easy with their help. She truly couldn't have done it without them.
Choosing cherished items to leave behind was no walk in the park, but it proved easier than what would come next.
The fretful farewells and yawning maw of a whole new galactic timezone (or more) between her and her loved ones were bitter pills to swallow. The first coils of dread pooled in her stomach upon the drop out of hyperspace, slowly gnawing away all the while as Ravena met up with the moving company in the early morning.
Getting the keycards and address to her new Coruscanti apartment marked the start of a deep, aching loneliness.
There was no one to stand behind her in silent support when the new neighbors came sniffing around at the sight of the moving company, leaving her to greet them on her own. (Or, to try to.) None of the bittersweet laughter that lovingly tucked her holoalbums in boxes accompanied her when it came time to unpack them. No one would help her decide where she should put her travel-wilted houseplants when introducing a little greenery; something to fill up the empty space.
(The corner would have to do for now.)
Dinner was eaten alone.
Too travel-tired, and the whole of her body aching at the thought of a few minutes more on her feet after a busy afternoon of unpacking, Ravena purchased something from one of the many street vendors just outside the complex.
The signage was not in Galactic Basic, but thankfully the Dug vendor knew enough to provide “something filling” when she asked. Anything would do so long as it took the claws of the gripping hunger and filed them down. Credits changed hands for a carton of breaded nuna nuggets in a vegetable and grain blend. This was taken back upstairs and enjoyed quietly in the solitude of her kitchen, for a moment. Ravena savored the flavor of her first meal on a new planet.
It would probably be the best she’d partake of for a while.
To disrupt the unfamiliar room tone, she eventually tunes in to a radio drama for the first in a long time. Something to fill up the apartment with a little more sound until she was ready to unpack a final box of two for the night, then she would turn in.
The script’s corny and amateurish quality makes her quick to reconsider; the longer she listens, the more it sounds like an office drama. Complete with catty watercooler talk and power tripping micromanagers.
Yeah, that was a pass.
Ravena shuts off the radio and places the rest of her meal in the conservator for tomorrow.
Just enough progress has been made on a pair of boxes before Ravena is content with both the day’s developments and the prospect of finally getting some shut-eye.
Leaving the process of wrestling an unwieldy mattress in place when running on fumes likely hadn’t been the smartest idea, but she figured it should serve its purpose for draining the remainder of whatever energy reserves she had. To truly tire her out. Once it was settled in the bed frame, extracting her bed linens and dressing things up is all she has left before half-assing a nightly routine, then finally, sleep. Fixing the mattress cover and fitted sheet in place takes the most time, the rest proves a breeze.
The new sleeping space is capped off with the final addition of the comforter. A loved one packed Ravena a sleep set in the same box as the bed linens, meaning she didn’t have to sleep in the day’s now-dirty clothes or dig through any more boxes.
It smells like home.
And it’s the first time Ravena sits there—truly sits there—in the newness and the unfamiliarity of what she’s gotten herself into… and struggles not to cry. Denying the brine-water in her eyes its purpose, she wipes and washes everything down the drain instead. The cold creepings of loneliness and regret are placated with self-soothing nonsense.
I’m just tired. There was a lot of information to process today. Everyone feels completely overwhelmed their first day on Coruscant.
It could easily be the first of many days…
Finally reclining in bed, Ravena finds it hard to sleep now that there’s nothing else to occupy her mind with other than taking fuller notice of how full of sound this foreign environment is.
Understanding this planet is one massive, incomprehensible city, it’s easy to see why rather than the occasional, irregular sound, the noise pollution will be constant coming from countless sources.
The hummed harmonies of neon signs glowing in the smog. A million skylanes warbling and purring with speeder cabs in every color of the light spectrum. The steady, endless drum of foot traffic on a million and one walkways. The voices of trillions of galactic lifeforms living above and below the surface; all parading around on the planet that never sleeps.
Sleep eludes her all night, or proves restless when she winks out of consciousness however temporarily.
A neighbor from down the hall is not surprised to see Ravena propped up in the doorframe, folding over in exhaustion when she answers the door just before mid-morning. Forcing drooping eyelids back in place, she prays this is a quick matter as she greets the elderly woman perched on her welcome mat next to a large bag.
Ravena had been in the process of sniffing out which of the many boxes filled with kitchenware contained the caf machine in order to brew herself a cup of much-needed energy when there was a knock at the door.
“Can I help you…?”
The woman was Tholothian, judging by the scaled skullcap and tendrils bobbling over her shoulders from the force of a gentle, bubbly laugh. “Oh no, dear; I’m here to help you. May I come in?” Her smile is warm and kind; emphasized and complemented by both smile and age lines.
Ravena is fairly certain she saw the woman the other day when the movers brought in the first of the boxes, but couldn’t remember a name. Figuring there’s no harm, she invites her neighbor to come inside, promptly forgetting the rest of her manners until the acceptable moment has passed to offer to help with the woman’s belongings. The Tholothian has collected her sizable bag with ease and found a way to gracefully squeeze it past Ravena without so much as a bumped elbow before the woman’s sluggish brain can finish stringing together her question.
“Do you need any… help with that?”
This new neighbor is more than a little forgiving of a lapse in proper manners, fortunately for Ravena.
“I’m plenty strong in my old age, don’t you worry! Got up nice and early this morning to get some things that’ll help you settle in. Groceries, too.”
Now no longer quiet as sleepy, the young woman stands there, stunned.
“You- you brought me groceries?”
The neighbor hoists the bag a little higher than before with a smile. “I sure did. Where would you like me to put everything, dear?”
“T-the counters in the kitchen are fine…” Ravena stammers.
Her neighbor, who she still cannot recall the name of, carries the grocery-laden bag into the small kitchen and lines everything up on the countertop as instructed. Blue milk, a loaf of polystarch, eggs, caf creamer, and generic breakfast mixes are among the lot. Previously crammed in one singular bag, there are now fifty or so items to be put away.
“Here you are! A few essentials to get you started.”
That’s a few? Ravena would be speechless if it wasn’t the polite thing to thank her.
“I, uh… H-holy shit, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” her neighbor replies cheerily. “Mrs. Helios is always here for her neighbors. I’m just a knock away down the hall in ol’ 4546Besh if you ever need me.”
Mrs. Helios. Tholothian. 4546Besh.
Ravena could remember that. (Probably.) Returning the favor, she properly introduces herself to Mrs. Helios while the two of them begin putting away the perishables. The conservator and cupboards look a little less barren than they had yesterday before long, and it takes her mind away from most of her nervousness. Introductions were some of her least favorite parts about meeting new people for one significant reason.
The more she talked, the more her natural dialect began to seep into each and every syllable; a certain betrayal that made it none too difficult for the well-studied to know which part of the galaxy she came from…
“My given name is Ravena; though ��Vena” will equally suffice. Olaen is my family name.”
“Oh, what a lovely name,” Mrs. Helios replies. The smile she’s worn since stepping into Ravena’s apartment hardly budges. “It suits you well, I think! Now tell me, what part of the galaxy did you just move from?”
Mouth drying in an instant, Ravena swallows nervously. She dreads this question above all others.
“The… Quelii s-sector.”
Mrs. Helios’ smile doesn’t budge. In fact, it becomes knowing, and surprisingly even kinder. “My, you’ve come a long way from the Outer Rim Territories. And the Dathomir system, if I’m not mistaken! No wonder you look so tired…” With a deciding nod, she pats the top to one of the boxes of kitchenware where Ravena had been looking for the caf-maker and offers to help her tackle these next. “Why don’t we keep up that momentum, then? You look like you could use a hand.” she says.
“I would certainly appreciate it…” Ravena manages at last.
Steady progress is made over the next half hour (or so) until the beverage machine has been located. At that point, Ravena digs only long enough to find the caf powder and a suitable mug before the Tholothian encourages her to have a rest.
Mrs. Helios takes the opportunity to present her with a few more things out of her bag while the first cup has been set to brew.
The first is a sound device, the price sticker subjected to some rather thorough redacting of monetary value. Packaging is rather nondescript, save for a few lofty promises—“Over 150+ New And Improved Audio Files!”—but the machine itself has a rather sleek design when Ravena extracts it from the box. She finds it a happy coincidence that the color paired with a rich wood grain pattern is one of her favorites.
“Amber and wood… Oh, thank you, this is beautiful.”
“It was the only one they had in stock this morning, so I’m relieved the color isn’t an issue.” Mrs. Helios chuckles. “But don’t thank me just yet. It may help mask some of the… less pleasant ambience you’ll find here.”
Her reasoning sagely segues into the next item; handwritten advice on how to deal with the high amount of crime and pickpockets that plague the planet. The stack of hair-thin acrylic sheets must be half an inch tall, and again, handwritten. Each letter is so crisp—with a print-like quality to it—that it must’ve taken her several hours to write this much, and so tidily.
Ravena is kind of at a loss for words. Wondering if she’s made a terrible mistake uprooting her comfortable life to live here.
“Just how bad is the crime?”
“It’s not so bad here on the upper levels, dear. Biggest concern would be pickpockets, day to day. But the sub-levels; now those areas you’d really need to take care of yourself.” Mrs. Helios understands that’s not much comfort, so the subject is changed while Ravena fetches the finished cup of caf. (Another is set to percolate for good measure; she’ll likely take it for herself should Mrs. Helios decline.) “Speaking of upper levels… I also wrote down a few of the good shops not too far from here that you may find helpful as you’re settling in. Nice variety, and all that.”
Taking the first of the pages to study its directions, it tells her how many turns to take, nearby signage, and the types of shops she should see along the way. Ravena can tell Mrs. Helios has thought of everything; she even made a point to include the name and species of the shop-owners and the languages they speak, too.
Nursing her caf, she selects a passage at random.
Hasher; Dug. Speaks Basic, but be sure to greet him in Huttese first. The word “Hello” is “Achuta”.
“You must be pretty familiar with these shop owners.”
“I’ve been doing business with them for years,” Mrs. Helios confirms with a slow bob of her head.
Though proper introductions had been made only a little more than an hour ago (if the chronometer is to be believed), the elderly Tholotian has given Ravena the impression she’ll answer any question with honesty. She’s been given no reason for her to suspect otherwise so far, anyway.
“Are they all… friendly? Like you?”
Mrs. Helios has given her an ace up her sleeve, and she knows it. “They should be! If they aren’t for whatever reason, telling ‘em Mrs. Helios sent you their way ought to remind them of their manners. I won’t tolerate them being unkind to my neighbors just because I’ve known them for years.” Reaching across the narrow table, she takes the young woman’s hand and gives her forearm a gentle and reassuring pat.
Her smile lines deepen as she speaks full of confidence. “You’ll find your footing here in no time, Ravena. Don’t you worry.”
“I hope so…” Ravena replies, sleepy in her optimism.
Not much later, the caf-pot indicates the second cup set to brew has finished. The robust aroma wafting through the tiny apartment kitchen strengthens. Getting up, Ravena collects the mug full of bitter brew and offers it up to her new neighbor, asking if she’d like some sugar or cream to sweeten it. She should have thought to do the same to her own, but she’d been so desperate for a stimulant after a near-sleepless night that she only waited long enough for it to cool to a more tolerable temperature at which point it was drunk straight.
“That’s a very kind offer, but I’m afraid caf and I don’t agree with one another.” Mrs Helios declines. “I suspect I’m mildly allergic to caffeine; always seem to break out in hives after a cup. You go ahead and have it for me, dear.” she adds with some encouragement. And she promises there’s no sense worrying about the possibility of a contact allergy, either. More than a hundred broken cups of caf have been cleaned by her thin fingers throughout her lifetime without ill effect.
That brings up many questions, she’s all too sure, but she wants to give Ravena those answers another time. “Judging from the amount of boxes, you’re planning to be here for a while. There will be plenty of time to get to know one another better.” No sense rushing everything when there was the luxury of piecemealing.
“I came to Coruscant for a career change,” comes the stilted confession between stirring a few spoonfuls of sugar into a second cup of caf. “So I hope that’s true…”
The Tholothian’s expression quickly becomes one of mild interest. “Is that so? And do you have a career lined up for you already, Ravena?” Interest morphs into gentle disapproval and concern when she’s told there is no new job lined up as of yet. “Oh good galaxies, child. That won’t do at all… Coruscant can be such an expensive place to live. Well. In that case, I ought to give you some directions to the nearby career centers before long. You deserve a little time to settle in, first.”
First groceries, then a noise machine and a sizable stack of hand-written advice. Now Mrs. Helios is offering to help her find resources to pick up a new career with a bit of “tough love” sprinkled in.
Ravena must have accrued and cashed in some seriously good karma (or something) to have such a helpful neighbor just down the hall… It almost feels too good to be true. Her family would be as relieved as she is grateful to have met someone so generous and helpful so shortly after moving to Coruscant.
Someone who did not seem to give a damn about where she came from and treated her no less kindly because of it.
“Stars, I… I don’t know how to possibly thank you enough, Mrs. Helios…”
Her neighbor smiles, humored, as she begins gathering her things. She’s taken enough of the young woman’s time for the day; ought to let Ravena get back to setting the apartment in order and be on her way before she overstays her welcome. Boxes that have piled up in the joint search of the caf-maker are kicked aside for Mrs. Helios to help her reach the door unencumbered.
“Settle in first. Then you can fuss about thanking me,” the Tholothian tells her with a matronly smile and another deciding nod. “But there’s no pressure. This is new territory for you, dear. Your story is just getting started.”
That’s certainly one way of looking at it.
Ravena returns her pleasant smile. “Yeah… I guess you are right, Mrs. Helios.” The words were simple, but so very comforting to her.
Lingering at the door, she waits until Mrs. Helios makes it down to 4546Besh before slipping back inside her own apartment with a departing wave.
The gentle-eyed Tholotian is absolutely right.
The day is still young, and with the caf in her system, she should be able to make decent work on emptying those boxes if she worked in waves. The first night was rough, but it was behind her now. Given an incredible leg up by this generous neighbor, tonight should be better.
And tomorrow, Ravena would start properly exploring the planet at the heart of the Galactic Republic.

Feeling deja vu? Well, NFITH originally started out as an X Reader, as I mentioned in the "foreword", but I determined I needed to make a change recently. My visions for this story simply got too grand for a reader-insert, thus the transformation. Like with the original, this is your fair warning that this is going to be among the shortest in the series as chapters will (very likely) become longer as we progress.
Taglist: @callsign-denmark @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit @dreamie411 @msmeredithrose + @returnofthepineapple @lonely-day3636
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