#Cargo Containment System

[envision-general-multi-cargo-tos]

Top 10 Reasons Why Envision GTOS Leads the Container Terminal Operating System Market

In an era characterized by unruly growth of worldwide commerce, the efficiency of seaports, inland terminals, and cargo depots has been the factor ensuring that international trade stands on its weak legs. It would have been very much in demand right now while cargo volumes kept surging for smarter, more scalable, and technologically advanced solutions. Enter GTOS or General Terminal Operating System-a digital framework that aims to evolve the ways in which the terminals operate.

Leading the way in this transformation is the Envision GTOS platform-it is said to be the platform of the future by Envision Enterprise Solutions. In this in-depth blog post, we will dissect the GTOS concept; we shall state why it matters, go into the details of Envision GTOS's features, and explain how it stands taller than traditional systems. We'll also cover how Envision's commitment to smart integration and digital transformation continues to reshape the future of terminal management.

What is GTOS?

GTOS (General Terminal Operating System) is a software system used to manage and optimize the daily operations of cargo terminals. It serves as the digital brain behind terminal logistics, orchestrating processes such as:

•          Cargo intake and dispatch

•          Gate operations

•          Yard management

•          Equipment control

•          Vessel planning

•          Documentation and invoicing

•          Real-time tracking and tracing of containers

This system, therefore, applies to container as well as general cargo, breakbulk, Ro-Ro, and bulk terminals. Its main objective is to automate manual processes, reduce operational errors, and improve throughput. The flexibility of GTOS allows it to be used in a variety of terminal environments, adjusting to regional and cargo-type-specific needs.

The modern GTOS is evolving to handle the intricacies of hybrid cargo types, multiple modes of transport (rail, road, and sea), and rapid digitization demands from customs and regulatory authorities. It also facilitates seamless integration with external systems like ERP platforms, shipping lines, and government portals, making it the hub of smart terminal ecosystems.

Importance of GTOS in Cargo and Terminal Management

1. Operational Efficiency

A robust GTOS minimizes manual data entry and speeds up cargo movements, helping terminals handle higher volumes without increasing overhead. This is crucial in today's environment where terminal congestion can delay entire supply chains. With precise control over gate, yard, and berth operations, GTOS reduces downtime and improves cargo turnover rates.

2. Real-Time Visibility

This GTOS platform acts as a brain by providing a set of interfaces giving one real-time information about cargo location, equipment status, and venue schedule. This visibility is crucial in making operational decisions swiftly, deterring demurrage, and improving customer satisfaction. It also supports instant exception handling and performance monitoring.

3. Standardization & Compliance

Having an inbuilt integration for customs, billing, and safety protocol applications, GTOS enables terminals to effortlessly observe some regulations. Documentation is generated automatically, stored, and made traceable for the purpose of customs clearance and audits.Terminals can configure regional rules and port-specific compliance requirements, reducing legal and financial risks.

4. Data-Driven Insights

Modern GTOS platforms offer advanced analytics to evaluate KPIs like berth productivity, truck turnaround time, and equipment utilization. These kinds of insights assist in long-range planning, Predictive maintenance, and short-term adjustments on an operational level. These predictive algorithms can identify bottlenecks as they begin and also provide excellent forecasting tools.

5. Scalability and Flexibility

As terminal volumes grow, GTOS platforms can scale through modular upgrades. Whether it’s expanding yard space or integrating new technologies, GTOS provides the necessary backbone. Its modular architecture supports future extensions without interrupting live operations. Additionally, cloud-based systems enable global access and updates.

Who Uses GTOS?

GTOS solutions are used by a wide array of stakeholders in the global logistics chain:

Seaports and Terminals: To manage inbound and outbound container traffic, bulk handling, and equipment scheduling.

Inland Container Depots (ICDs): For handling hinterland cargo flows, customs clearance, and road/rail interface.

Container Freight Stations (CFS): To manage less-than-container-load (LCL) and de-stuffing operations.

Bulk Cargo Handlers: For managing grain, coal, and ore cargoes through conveyors, silos, and hoppers.

Shipping Lines & Freight Forwarders: For digital visibility, pre-arrival documentation, and EDI.

Customs and Port Agencies: For digital inspection clearance, security checks, and regulatory control.

Private Logistics Parks: For freight forwarding, warehousing, and integrated operations spanning trucking.

Essentially, implementing a GTOS might be of great advantage to any organization that manages large cargo volumes or demands efficiency, traceability, and regulatory compliance.

Core Features of a Normal GTOS

A standard or traditional GTOS includes the following features:

Gate Automation

Utilizes OCR (Optical Character Recognition), RFID (Radio-Frequency Identification), and ANPR (Automatic Number Plate Recognition) technologies to automate vehicle entry and exit processes. It reduces human involvement and accelerates truck turnaround time.

Yard Management

Optimizes the placement of containers and general cargo. Assigns space dynamically, schedules equipment, and ensures optimal yard utilization. It prevents mishandling and streamlines stacking and retrieval processes.

Vessel Planning

Allocates berths, schedules quay cranes, and manages stowage planning based on vessel arrival times and cargo manifests. Efficient vessel turnaround enhances port reputation and throughput.

Cargo Handling

Manages the loading and unloading process, ensuring minimal damage, efficient use of cranes and forklifts, and faster truck turnarounds. Smart task allocation and job execution tracking boost productivity and safety.

Billing & Invoicing

Tracks all chargeable activities—such as storage, handling, and demurrage—and generates automated invoices. Integrates with accounting systems for audit-ready documentation. Multi-currency and tax logic are often included.

Reporting Tools

Provides dashboards and reports for analyzing operational metrics. Often used by managers to evaluate performance and make data-backed decisions. Advanced systems can export data for machine learning models and predictive algorithms.

Benefits of GTOS in Terminal Operations

Higher Throughput

By automating repetitive tasks and optimizing cargo flows, GTOS enables terminals to handle more cargo in less time. This makes it easier to handle peak season volumes without service degradation.

Lower Operational Costs

Less dependency on manual labor and better utilization of equipment leads to significant cost savings. Resource optimization reduces energy consumption and maintenance overheads.

Improved Customer Service

Faster processing and real-time updates improve customer satisfaction. Terminals can provide clients with live tracking, automatic alerts, and digital documentation.

Enhanced Safety

Automated systems reduce human involvement in hazardous areas, lowering the risk of accidents. Integrated safety compliance ensures secure cargo movement. Risk assessments and safety drills can also be managed through GTOS.

Environmental Benefits

Efficient terminal operations reduce fuel consumption and emissions, supporting green port initiatives. Energy-efficient equipment scheduling and paperless documentation also contribute. Sustainability dashboards allow ports to monitor and improve their carbon footprint.

Envision GTOS: Redefining Terminal Efficiency

Envision GTOS is designed with a future-ready architecture that incorporates AI, IoT, and cloud computing to deliver next-level efficiency. Here’s how it surpasses traditional GTOS systems:

AI-Powered Decision Making

Predictive analytics and machine learning algorithms optimize berth planning, equipment usage, and yard allocation. AI-driven recommendations ensure proactive management and faster cycle times.

Real-Time IoT Integration

Integrates with smart sensors and IoT devices to provide real-time data on container conditions, equipment health, and yard congestion. It supports real-time alerts and automated escalation.

Cloud-Native and Mobile First

Accessible from anywhere, Envision GTOS supports mobile devices for on-the-go monitoring, approvals, and task management. It supports hybrid cloud environments and multi-terminal operations.

Blockchain for Document Security

Utilizes blockchain for secure, immutable documentation and transparent cargo movement records. This enhances stakeholder trust and compliance.

Low-Code Configuration

Allows users to customize workflows without writing complex code, reducing deployment time and cost. Terminal operators can easily define rules, triggers, and alerts.

Envision GTOS Smart Integrations

Envision GTOS brings together a suite of intelligent integrations that enhance performance:

Automated Gate System: Reduces gate congestion and enables rapid in/out processing.

Container Tracking Software: Provides real-time container location and movement history.

Yard Truck Management System: Tracks and schedules internal container transportation.

Container Freight Station (CFS) Software: Manages LCL cargoes, documentation, and cargo       splitting.

Depot Management System (DMS): Controls empty container repairs, storage, and dispatch.

Vessel Planning and Optimization: Automates berth and stowage planning with smart algorithms.

Digital Twin Integration: Simulates real-world operations for training, planning, and risk evaluation.

Smart Maintenance System: Predicts equipment failure and schedules proactive maintenance.

About Envision Enterprise Solutions

Envision Enterprise Solutions is a global leader in enterprise-grade digital platforms for the port and logistics industry. With over two decades of domain expertise, Envision’s platforms serve terminals, depots, CFS units, ICDs, and logistics parks across Asia, Africa, and the Middle East.

The company’s mission is to enable smarter, safer, and more sustainable logistics operations through intelligent, modular, and cloud-native solutions. Envision's platforms have helped digitize and automate operations at some of the world’s busiest and most complex port facilities.

Envision’s Achievements

Successfully deployed Envision GTOS at over 10 major terminals globally

Reduced truck turnaround times by up to 40% in high-volume ports

Achieved 99.9% system uptime across all customer installations

Named among the Top 10 Smart Port Technology Providers by LogisticsTech Magazine

Partnered with government customs agencies to build next-gen port community systems

Delivered smart yard automation using IoT in Africa's largest inland terminal

Recognized for innovation in AI and predictive analytics in the maritime sector

Conclusion

A General Terminal Operating System (GTOS) is no longer a luxury—it is a necessity for terminal operators aiming to thrive in the digital age. On the one hand, we say that the traditional systems are the first starting point; however, Envision GTOS promises intelligence, scalability, and flexibility for the future.

By placing AI, IoT, blockchain, and cloud technologies inside the picture, Envision GTOS ensures that the operations meet the needs of today while preparing the terminals for the challenges of tomorrow. Whether you are operating an inland depot or a large container terminal, Envision GTOS leads you to operate smarter, faster, and greener.

With intelligent modules, real-time integration, low-code customization, and global success stories, Envision GTOS is redefining the future of cargo and terminal operations. It’s time to embrace a connected, data-driven, and automated future with Envision GTOS.

Get in touch to schedule a demo of Envision GTOS orExplore our services to see how Envision GTOS can transform your terminal.

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[jupiterbusinesssystems]

Streamlining Operations: Logistics Software Transforming the UAE Market

The United Arab Emirates, a global trade hub, relies heavily on efficient logistics operations. To maintain its competitive edge, the industry is rapidly adopting advanced logistics software UAE. These solutions are revolutionizing how companies manage their complex supply chains, from warehousing to international shipping.  

Freight software solutions UAE are becoming indispensable, offering tools for real-time tracking, route optimization, and automated documentation. For companies dealing with maritime transport, specialized systems like container shipping software UAE, ocean freight software UAE, and sea freight software UAE are essential. These platforms streamline container management, track vessel movements, and facilitate efficient port operations. Additionally, liner software UAE provides specific tools for liner shipping companies, enhancing scheduling and vessel utilization.  

Freight forwarding system UAE and freight forwarding management software UAE are critical for companies handling the intricate process of moving goods across borders. Specifically, freight forwarding software Dubai and freight forwarding software UAE address the unique demands of this dynamic market. International freight forwarding software UAE enables seamless handling of customs procedures, documentation, and compliance across various jurisdictions. To manage the financial aspects, freight forwarding accounting software UAE and logistics accounting software UAE offer integrated solutions for invoicing, cost tracking, and financial reporting.  

For businesses focused on maximizing cargo space, freight consolidation software UAE helps optimize loading and reduce shipping costs. Cargo shipping software UAE and shipping software UAE provide broader tools for managing cargo movements, including tracking, documentation, and communication. Moreover, shipping management software UAE offers comprehensive oversight of all shipping activities.  

To further improve overall efficiency, freight logistics software UAE, freight management software in UAE, and ocean freight management software UAE provide advanced analytics and reporting capabilities, enabling companies to make data-driven decisions.

For companies seeking the best freight management software UAE, solutions offering seamless integration, scalability, and robust security are paramount. Finally, international logistics software UAE provides global supply chain visibility and control.  

[slyandthefamilybook]

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - November 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles on Patreon!

1. Climate Initiatives Fare Well Across the Country Despite National Political Climate

“[California voters approved] a $10 billion bond measure to boost climate resilience across [the] state[…. Hawai’i] voters cast their ballots in favor of establishing the [climate] resiliency fund, with money for the project coming from existing property tax revenue.“

2. ‘You have to disguise your human form’: how sea eagles are being returned to Severn estuary after 150 years

“[… To avoid imprinting,] the handlers will wear long robes and feed the young eagles chopped rabbit and other meat with bird hand-puppets. […] Williams hopes that restoring eagles to the top of the food chain in the estuary will create a more balanced, thriving ecosystem.”

3. 10 states voted on pro-abortion referendums. 7 of them passed

“New York voters overwhelmingly approved the Equal Rights Amendment, adding [… among other characteristics] gender expression, pregnancy, and pregnancy outcomes to anti-discrimination laws. […] In deep-red Missouri and Montana, voters also enshrined abortions protections in their state constitutions.”

4. Giant rats could soon fight illegal wildlife trade by sniffing out elephant tusk and rhino horn

“”Our study shows that we can train African giant pouched rats to detect illegally trafficked wildlife, even when it has been concealed among other substances[.…] They can easily access tight spaces like cargo in packed shipping containers or be lifted up high to screen the ventilation systems of sealed containers,” Szott explained.”

5. Sarah McBride wins Delaware U.S. House seat, becoming the first out trans member of Congress

“McBride spearheaded Delaware’s legislation to ban the “gay and trans panic” defense as a state senator [… and] helped to pass paid family and medical leave, gun safety measures, and protections for reproductive rights.”

6. Critically endangered Sumatran elephant calf born in Indonesia

“Indonesian officials hailed the births and said they showed conservation efforts were essential to prevent the protected species from extinction. […] Sumatran elephants are on the brink of extinction with only about 2,400-2,800 left in the world, according to the World Wide Fund for Nature.”

7. Sin City is Going Green

“[Hotels there] have conserved 16 billion gallons of water since 2007, thanks to […] replacing grass with desert-friendly landscaping, installing water-efficient taps across all properties, and reusing water at aquariums and in the Bellagio Fountain.”

8. Gray squirrel control: Study shows promise for effective contraceptive delivery system

“[… T]he feeders have a very high level of species-specificity. […] The bait and monitoring system developed and tested in the study demonstrated that […] “spring was the only season tested where female squirrels were more likely to visit bait feeders than males. Spring coincides with a peak in squirrel breeding and is therefore a good time to deliver a contraceptive."”

9. Returning Grazing Land to Native Forests Would Yield Big Climate Benefits

“[… S]trategically regrowing forests on land where cattle currently graze […] while intensifying production elsewhere could drastically cut greenhouse gas emissions, with little hit to global protein production, a new study shows.”

10. Interior Department Strengthens Conservation of American Bison Through New Agreement with Canada and Mexico

“Approximately 31,000 bison are currently being stewarded by the United States, Canada and Mexico with the goal of conserving the species and their role in the function of native grassland systems, as well as their place in Indigenous culture.”

October 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[zoeykallus]

In His Crosshairs

Crosshair x Fem!Reader (Enemies To Lovers)

Warnings: Cat and mouse tension/A bit of violence/Strong language

Masterlist

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Prologue

This is a Crosshair x Female Reader story, slow burn, sharp edges, and a storm of tension that doesn't let go. Enemies to lovers? Eventually. But not before distrust, fire, and silence have carved their place.

You’re a pilot, independent, stubborn, always walking the line between law and survival. You don’t pick sides. Not until the Empire’s deadliest marksmen sets his sights on you.

It starts with a warning shot. And it doesn’t stop there. ______________________________________________________________

AC:

Been gone for a long time, but I'm back for now. With a lot of help from my friend Lena, I started to write again. She's not on tumblr, but I still want to mention her here, because she did translate my stuff into English, plus a few inspirations and some dialogue parts came from her. So she had/ and probably will have, quite some influence on this project and future projects. She also wrote the Prologue, because I suck at Prologues 🙂 BY THE WAY I LOST MY TAG-LISTS! So if you want to get tagged here or on any other projects, let me know in the comments or asks!

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 1. Through the Scope

The cold bit through your jacket like teeth, relentless and sharp, even inside the rusted-out cockpit. One of those damn planets where it either rained or snowed, and of course, you’d landed on a day when it did both. You cursed under your breath while slapping the console, trying to coax power back into the battered system.

Something felt off. The job had been too vague, the contact too late. Cargo was supposed to be waiting, “harmless replacement parts,” they’d said. You didn’t care what was in the crates. You just needed credits. But now the signal had gone dead, the drop site was empty, and your gut was twisting in that way it did right before everything went to hell. And your gut was right, 99% of times.

Suddenly, you felt it. Not heard. Not seen. Just felt... a shift in the air, a weight on your spine. Something was off.

The first shot hit half a meter from your head.

Not a miss. Rather a warning.

You’d run. Blaster in hand, boots slipping over wet metal and cracked stone, breathing hard as you bolted through ruined buildings and abandoned outposts. But he, whoever he was, was always behind you. Not close. Just there. Like a ghost made of precision and patience. His shots almost forcing you into a dance.

And now, you’re tucked between two rusted-out cargo containers, breath fogging in the cold, fingers wrapped too tightly around a blaster you barely know how to use. You've never been much of a combat girl. You don't know if you’re sweating or freezing. Maybe both.

“You’re holding the trigger too tight.”

The voice comes from behind you. Smooth. Controlled. Deliberate.

You spin, heart leaping, gun raised. And there he is.

Shadowed, quiet. The long sniper rifle in one hand. Helmet under the other arm. Dark armor, almost lost in the dim light of the ruined compound. But his eyes are something else. Gold. Sharp. Measuring. He looks at you, and it feels like he's looking right through you. That tattoo around his right eye.

Crosshair.

You’ve heard his name. Whispered. Warned. The sniper who doesn’t miss. That imperial sharpshooter.

“You…” Your voice cracks before you can stop it, but you bite down, force your chin up. “You’re not a very good shot, missed me a couple of times"

There’s a flicker in his eyes. Barely. The edge of a smirk that doesn’t quite make it to his mouth. He steps forward, deliberate and quiet.

“I don’t miss,” he says. “I just wanted to see how fast you run.” Dryly and bolder than you feel, you say, "Well, fuck you, Sir"

You don’t know whether to laugh or scream. Maybe both. Your fingers ache around your blaster grip.

“What do you want? I’m not worth anything. I’ve got no intel, no connections. I'm nobody.”

He watches you. For too long. Like he's reading something behind your eyes.

“Not entirely true. Someone wants you. And I was sent to collect.”

“Are you going to?” you ask, sharper than you intend. Fear always comes out as sarcasm when you’re tired.

Another pause. Finally, he lowers the rifle, slow, deliberate. He wants you to see how he does it.

Not a gesture of safety, not a real compromise. A message: You’re still not safe.

“Not yet.”

He turns. Walks away. No rush. No explanation. Just the heavy weight of his presence fading from your line of sight, leaving you alone, your heart hammering, your lungs burning. "What the fuck...", you whisper to yourself.

And for the first time, you realize: You're being hunted.

You made it back to your ship by sheer luck and bruised knees. The hangar was quiet, far too quiet for a place that used to hum with generators and merchant shouts. Now, only the dull sound of your own heartbeat echoed between steel walls.

You'd thrown yourself into the pilot seat, hands flying over switches and controls. No power. Of course not. You muttered a curse under your breath. “Come on, you stubborn piece of sh... ”

A warning chirp lit up the console. Motion sensor: external perimeter breached.

You froze. "Give me a break!" Your breath hitched. Then, instinct took over. You dropped from the seat, grabbed your blaster, and pressed yourself against the side panel near the entry ramp.

Silence.

You heard something, footsteps. Slow. Measured. Unhurried. Like someone entering a party, making a dramatic entrance, by being casual.

The ramp hissed open. Fog rolled in around tall black boots. Armor, scuffed but maintained. A long-barreled rifle, cradled loosely like an extension of his body. And that face, sharp lines, distant, unreadable.

Your gaze caught on it again, the tattoo. A black crosshair, inked clean over his right eye, the center aligning exactly with his iris. It didn’t feel like body art, it felt more like a threat. A mark of identity and purpose.

That eye found you instantly.

“You're not good at hiding.”

You forced your voice to hold. “Kiss my ass. You’re not good at knocking.”

He stepped inside slowly, gaze never leaving yours. “Didn’t think you'd answer.”

You leveled your blaster at him. He didn’t even blink, nothing.

“Go ahead,” he said, voice low. “Shoot. See how far you get.”

You didn’t. Of course you didn’t. Because you could see it in his stance, the way how still he stood, how his hand rested casually near the rifle, but not on it. He didn’t need it. He could take you down without blinking.

“What do you want?” you snapped. “I told you, I don’t have anything worth your time.”

Crosshair’s gaze flicked toward your cargo hold. Something about his gaze told you, he knew something you didn't.

“You’re transporting unauthorized supplies. Sealed crates with no tags, no serials. You know what that means.”

“Well... actually I don't” You faltered. Because you didn’t know. You hadn’t asked. And now that he’d said it, you realized… you hadn’t seen the usual logs. No standard freight clearances. No pickup codes.

“What did I bring?” you asked quietly.

He tilted his head, just slightly. “Explosives. Medical stims. Weapons. Rebel caches.”

Your stomach dropped. You felt it, not guilt, not really. Just dread. That creeping, cold sensation that everything you’d touched had just gone radioactive from one moment to the other.

“I'm just the pilot,” you said nervous, “I... didn’t know.”

His expression didn’t change. But something in his voice tightened.

“That's what they all say.”

You bristled. “I don’t work for them, or the others... or whoever. I didn’t sign up for anyone’s war.”

“No.” He took a step closer. “You just flew straight into it.”

You backed up instinctively until your spine hit the edge of the console. He was close now. Too close. You could see the wear on his armor, the faint scar just beneath the tattoo. The way his mouth stayed a hard, straight line.

“You gonna turn me in?” you asked, voice low.

He looked at you for a long moment. That gaze, sharp, cutting, intense, felt like it went straight through you once more.

Then, finally: “Not yet.”

You paused, a little confused. What was going on?

You swallowed. “Still not? Why?”

He leaned in just enough for you to hear his words like a whisper.

“Still deciding.” A shiver running down your spine, almost making you shudder. Your body was making many weird things right now under its surface. Things you didn't really understand right now.

And with that, he turned again. Like he hadn’t just peeled you open with a glance. Like he hadn’t just cracked something in your chest you didn’t even know was there.

He walked toward the exit, paused, and spoke over his shoulder.

“Ship’s grounded. Power’s dead. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

You blinked. “Hey, wait a minute...”

“There’s a shelter in the old comm tower nearby.” A pause. His gaze holding you in place for one more second, “I’m staying there. You can freeze out here. Or not." "Um... did you just invite me to your place or something like that?"

He didn’t wait and didn't answer. He was already gone. Leaving you behind again. A soft, resigned sigh out of your lungs. You hesitated, just a second.

"Damn it!"

Finally, you followed him. Because the hangar suddenly felt a hell of a lot colder.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

[teastyun]

༘⋆ pierced heart (tits)

(SFW) part 1/3

Abby might be your roommate, but she's for whatever reason so distant and cold towards you... until one day, you decide to pierce your nipples and manage to break a barrier inside of Abby.

pairing: roommate!abby x reader

╰┈➤ part 2 ; masterlist

late in the evening of a hard working day, you and Nora were chatting in the infirmary, when you noticed several cabinets containing her medical instruments left open, so you took a peek… and found several types of needles in sterilised bags, that would usually be used for medical procedures.

when you started searching for a specific needle, Nora stopped mid-sentence, "-y/n!! why the hell are you looking through my cabinets?" the confused tone to her voice made you instantly laugh, so you told her about your idea of piercing your nipples, "remember when I told you I found that vintage piercing studio back in the outbacks?" she continued looking at you with a suspicious look, so you continued "I found this brochure with several different types of piercings, and I bagged a few random essentials just in case, you know?" when she didn't respond, you took that as a cue to continue, "and well, lately this idea of piercing my nipples wouldn't get out of my mind-"

"y/n, are you serious right now?" she interrupted, but started laughing at your crazy idea. at first, she would completely deny it and tell you all the possible consequences of it. although, after a bit of convincing, she slowly started giving up and by the end she would even offer her help, so she knew you were on the safer side when it came to the procedure itself. few days after, you and Nora managed to pierce your nipples with all the equipment you two had gathered and you visited her for your daily check-ups and sanitising in the first two weeks.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡

after several months of your piercings adjusting and slowly healing, you decided to stay in your dorm to get back into your neglected hobby, when you finally had a few days off after hard working weeks.

since you and abby had similar positions in the military system, you also had a similar schedule, which resulted her few days off overlapping with yours, without the two of you knowing.

usually, you would always wear compression attire for work,, so today you decided to wear a normal, but still tight and light t-shirt, without your usual sport bra and your favourite comfy trousers. your piercings look beautiful, when only a thin layer of cotton was layering them. today, abby's roaming around y’all’s dorm getting her chores done, although a heavy tension sits between the two of you.

when she sees you on the couch in your cozy clothes, she only takes a quick glance while getting her books from the couch table, but stops mid-track and looks at you with an almost shocked expression on her face, still holding her few books in her hands. you notice her sudden change of action and look up, meeting her grey eyes. for the first time in ages, she finally speaks to you, “are those… pierced?” with a shocked undertone to it.

you look at her just as shocked as she is, but your eyes wander from her eyes down to her popular black cut-off tank and her usual khaki cargos, and back to her cold eyes. after a few silent seconds, you slightly confused respond “what else does it look like…?” abby is agitated by your response, but asks “how the fuck did you manage to get that done?” at first, you just ignored her.

when you got up to put your things back to your side of the room, you say with heavy annoyance in your tone “Nora got them done for me, why would you even care?? it’s not like you ever would,” when she obviously waited for a response.

with your back to her, you put your stuff back into your box under the bunkbed, but you didn’t notice how abby would follow you to your side. “also, it’s none of your business! don’t-“ you started, but Abby’s agitation rose with each sentence you said, she huffed and cut you off, “you know that you could have gotten a very bad infection or even fucking worse, a damn blood infection-“

“Abby, just stop talking!” your voice rose as you stood up to face her, and just now you’ve noticed how she was only mere centimetres away from your face. she was looking at you with a worried expression, but when you two realise how closely you stood, she takes a step back. you had no idea why the only time she would speak privately to you was such a cruel topic, and tears started forming in your eyes. embarrassed, you blink them away and look at everything else but her.

after a few moments, she finally speaks again, "I... What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't do such reckless things," her hand goes through her loosely braided hair, "I didn't mean it like that." you still wouldn't look at her, and she went back to her chore.

"Then tell me, why are you always ignoring me?" you finally ask, when you observed her actions, still leaning on your cold metal bunkbed. your question clearly catches her off guard, but she wouldn't dare to look, nor answer you.

she simply continues grabbing her books from the tv stand. her actions agitate you, so you slowly walk up to where she's standing. Abby hears your steps, but this time she wouldn't back away. instead, she just stays there. she still wouldn't make eye contact with you though.

"Abby, please look at me," you say, but she closed her eyes with an almost pained expression. you softly hooked two fingers on her chin and turned her face to you, forcing her to look into your eyes. In them, you saw anger and frustration, but also... lust? your eyes observe every little detail on her face.

her slightly crooked, but Caucasian nose. her trail of freckles all over her face, nicely accentuating her sharp facial features. her pointy, but plump and rosy lips. your hand follows your eyes, tracing every feature you are able to find. when you traced her lips, you felt her taking a sharp breath, so you look back up into her eyes. you two didn't realise how close you two were now standing, until you felt each other's breath on your skin. before you could think any further, her hand draws you in by the back of your neck, her lips slightly hovering over yours with your hand on her cheek, "can I kiss you?" she asks in a whisper. you almost whimpered, but said "no," which made her instantly retreat in regret, but you hook your other arm around her neck, again looking into her eyes. "tell me why you ignored me all this time,"

she opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again. her eyes switch between your eyes and your lips, and she finally whispers "let me show why," before connecting your lips in a passionate, but clumsy kiss. after a few moments, the books in her hands fell to the floor and her hands were roaming all over your body, like a starving woman finally meeting all her desires. you wrap your arms so tightly around her neck that she feels every inch of your body pressed against hers. every inch. she pushes her leg between yours and a quiet moan escapes your lips, when you feel her firm thigh pressing against your core;

a/n: I'll post part two (definitely nsfw) in the next few days ♥ thanks for reading!!

[whencyclopedia]

U-Boat: Germany's Submarines of WWI & WWII

The U-boat, short for Unterseeboot (undersea boat), was the name for submarines used by the German Navy during the First World War (1914-18) and Second World War (1939-45). In the two Battles of the Atlantic, U-boats sank thousands of ships, but defensive strategies such as dropping depth charges, providing air cover, and, above all, the convoy system, ensured Britain was supplied with the resources it needed to continue both wars until victory was achieved on land.

U-Boats in WWI

When WWI began in 1914, the German Imperial Navy had only 20 operational submarines or Unterseeboots (undersea boats), as they were known, a name soon shortened to U-boat. Together, Britain and France had around 200 submarines. German production went into overdrive to catch up. The German navy constructed several classes of submarines to meet different requirements, such as coastal patrols, laying mines, and long-distance vessels. By 1917, Germany had 140 U-boats. While the British Admiralty focused on smaller submarines for the defence of ports, Germany opted for a vessel that could attack enemy shipping anywhere at sea. U-boats became particularly important following the Battle of Jutland in May 1916 (a strategic victory for the Royal Navy, but one with high losses), after which the giant German battleships were largely confined to port. U-boats, on the other hand, were free to roam hidden beneath the waves and attack at will any enemy target they came across in the North Sea, Atlantic Ocean, and the coastal waters of the British Isles.

The earliest U-boats, the UB class, were limited to coastal operations, but developments improved their operational capacity as the war wore on. The typical WWI U-boat had a range capable of reaching the Western Atlantic Ocean, a top speed of 17 knots, and displaced around 700 tons. U-boats carried six torpedoes. Two torpedoes could be fired from the bow and two from the stern. The submarine also had a gun which could be fired when on the surface; this had a minimum calibre of 4.1 inches (10.4 mm). A diesel engine was used when on the surface, and twin electric engines when submerged. The crew on board numbered up to 39 persons. Conditions on board were extremely cramped and uncomfortable, and made worse by the constant stench of diesel fuel, which even permeated the taste of the submariner's food.

The German Navy built a larger class of U-boats, which was unarmed but capable of carrying cargo. The Deutschland was the first of this type, put in service in 1916. Some of these cargo submarines were subsequently converted into armed vessels known as U-cruisers, although the first were not operational until 1918. The U-cruisers had an impressive range of 12,000 nautical miles, and they could well have turned the tide of the war if they had been produced earlier and in larger numbers.

The UC-class submarines were used as minelayers from 1915. With a slow speed of six knots and a limited range of 750 nautical miles, these vessels were designed to stay near coastlines and lay mines, 12 per trip. The mines were released from near-vertical tubes that had been flooded. An upgrade to the class in 1916 increased the range tenfold and the mine load to 18. The UC II class was also armed with a 3.4-inch (8.8 cm) gun. The UE-class submarine was a larger, ocean-going version of the UC-class. The UE-boats, in service from 1915, could voyage 8,000 nautical miles and carry 34 mines. A class upgrade in 1918 meant the newer UE-boats could carry 42 mines in their tubes and another 30 in deck containers.

Read More

⇒ U-Boat: Germany's Submarines of WWI & WWII

[cherryjamandtoast]

UPS TEAMSTERS-UNION WON !!!!!!!!!!!

From the article:

[(WASHINGTON) – Today, the Teamsters reached the most historic tentative agreement for workers in the history of UPS, protecting and rewarding more than 340,000 UPS Teamsters nationwide. The overwhelmingly lucrative contract raises wages for all workers, creates more full-time jobs, and includes dozens of workplace protections and improvements. The UPS Teamsters National Negotiating Committee unanimously endorsed the five-year tentative agreement.

“Rank-and-file UPS Teamsters sacrificed everything to get this country through a pandemic and enabled UPS to reap record-setting profits. Teamster labor moves America. The union went into this fight committed to winning for our members. We demanded the best contract in the history of UPS, and we got it,” said Teamsters General President Sean M. O’Brien. ... This contract sets a new standard in the labor movement and raises the bar for all workers.”

“UPS came dangerously close to putting itself on strike, but we kept firm on our demands. In my more than 40 years in Louisville representing members at Worldport — the largest UPS hub in the country — I have never seen a national contract that levels the playing field for workers so dramatically as this one....” said Teamsters General Secretary-Treasurer Fred Zuckerman. “We stayed focused on our members and fought like hell to get everything that full-time and part-time UPS Teamsters deserve.”

“Rank-and-file members served on the committee for the first time, ... “Our hard work has paid off — from those members and leaders negotiating for more at the table to my sisters and brothers building a credible strike threat around the country. Our union was organized and we were relentless. We’ve hit every goal that UPS Teamster members wanted and asked for with this agreement. It’s a ‘yes’ vote for the most historic contract we’ve ever had.”

Highlights of the tentative 2023-2028 UPS Teamsters National Master Agreement include:

Historic wage increases. Existing full- and part-time UPS Teamsters will get $2.75 more per hour in 2023, and $7.50 more per hour over the length of the contract.

Existing part-timers will be raised up to no less than $21 per hour immediately, and part-time seniority workers earning more under a market rate adjustment would still receive all new general wage increases.

Wage increases for full-timers will keep UPS Teamsters the highest paid delivery drivers in the nation, improving their average top rate to $49 per hour.

New part-time hires at UPS would start at $21 per hour and advance to $23 per hour.

All UPS Teamster drivers classified as 22.4s would be reclassified immediately to Regular Package Car Drivers and placed into seniority, ending the unfair two-tier wage system at UPS.

Safety and health protections, including vehicle air conditioning and cargo ventilation. UPS will equip in-cab A/C in all larger delivery vehicles, sprinter vans, and package cars purchased after Jan. 1, 2024. All cars get two fans and air induction vents in the cargo compartments.

All UPS Teamsters would receive Martin Luther King Day as a full holiday for the first time.

No more forced overtime on Teamster drivers’ days off. Drivers would keep one of two workweek schedules and could not be forced into overtime on scheduled off-days.

UPS Teamster part-timers will have priority to perform all seasonal support work using their own vehicles with a locked-in eight-hour guarantee. For the first time, seasonal work will be contained to five weeks only from November-December.

On July 31, representatives ... will meet to review and recommend the tentative agreement. All UPS rank-and-file members will receive a list of improvements in the contract. ... Member voting begins August 3 and concludes August 22.

The UPS Teamsters National Master Agreement is the single largest private-sector collective bargaining agreement in North America.]

Check the article for the full list; but ho ho holy shit.

This is huge. It shows the collective bargaining WORKS. The Teamsters sent a message to UPS and this win will send a message to Corporate America that unions can WIN for rank-and-file workers!!!

[seungkw1]

heroes — chs [TEASER]

💿 heroes - david bowie 🎶

🪐 pairing: chwe hansol x gn!reader 🪐 theme: sci-fi au 🪐 teaser wc: 2.2k 🪐 teaser warnings: none, but the full fic will contain elements of horror 🪐 a/n: this fic is loosely based on the movie Alien (1979), one of my all-time favs!! and who better to star in it than our favorite Movie Guy™️ chwe hansol. i'm honestly having a blast researching and writing for this one, so i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i do :) p.s. release date is tbd, i’m gonna be v busy these next several weeks but i am hoping to post by end of may, pls bear with me <3

You’ve been Captain of the Atlas IV for five years now, so a months-long interstellar cargo haul like this one is standard work for you. But when you’re mysteriously woken prematurely from your cryogenic sleep-stasis to find yourself still in the middle of deep space, nowhere near your destination planet, it’s up to you and your Pilot to figure out what triggered the Emergency Revival System - before it’s too late.

hisssssss

Your brain begins to awaken as you re-enter consciousness. Somewhere in the back of your mind you recognize the sound of the sleep pod unlocking, signaling your long journey through the depths of space must be coming to an end - but right now the only thing you can think about is how dead you feel. Waking up after such a long, artificial sleep is always physically challenging, but nothing you’re not used to by now. You give yourself a couple minutes to lay there, still half-lucid, letting your body slowly readjust from the months-long cryogenic sleep cycle. You listen to the ambient sounds of the ship. The noise is loud, but low - mere background noise that you’ve grown accustomed to. The mechanical rumbling of the engine amidst the otherwise silent ship brings you a strange sense of comfort, a contrast to the usual chatter of the crew and beeping and blooping of machinery. You decide to take a few more moments to enjoy the peace and quiet before you have to get back to work.

Suddenly, you are flooded in the sterile brightness of the ship’s interior lighting as the capsule lid is opened - nearly blinding you even behind closed eyelids. You reluctantly open your eyes to, to see-

A face, staring down at you.

You jump a little. You blink a few times as you sit up, still processing the identity of the face’s owner. Then it registers: it’s your Pilot.

“Jesus Hansol, you fucking scared me.”

“Sorry, Captain,” he apologizes. He just stands there, upright, so still that he could be mistaken for a mannequin if you weren’t paying too much attention.

“Why are you standing over my pod?" you grumble, still adjusting to being roused so abruptly.

He looks at you, his demeanor calm as always - but based on the concerned look in his eyes, you guess he’s going to tell you that there’s a bit of a problem. 

“We have a bit of a problem.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much. What-”

Before you can ask anything, he’s already spun around on his heels, making a beeline back to the cockpit. You stumble out of the pod and quickly don your coveralls before hurrying after him.

You enter the control room, its many processors and screens humming all around you. At first glance, everything seems fine - all machines are fully operational, no blinking lights, no alerts going off. Somehow, you find this more worrying than if all the alarms were blaring.

Hansol hovers over the main computer. You join him, stepping up next to him to get a good look at the screen. To an untrained eye it would be incomprehensible, but you could interpret the map in your sleep. You take one look at the coordinates and the issue is glaringly obvious.

“Shit.”

Your whisper is barely audible, but Hansol gives you a stoic nod.

“Yeah.”

You’ve captained the Atlas IV for five years now - you’ve been on so many of these routine, months-long cargo expeditions that you’ve stopped keeping count; every last detail of its operations is ingrained in your memory at this point. The ship is programmed to wake up the crew in stages upon entering a 0.5 parsec orbital radius of the destination planet (Pilot first, Captain next, and then the remaining crew), allotting plenty of time to communicate with the ground crew and prepare for landing.

However, the blinking blue light indicating the ship’s position is nowhere near the destination planet. It’s not even near any planet - you are in the middle of fucking nowhere.

The system is designed to wake the crew early if an emergency arises - a critical built-in safety measure - but there’s no emergency. Aside from the fact that you’re deep in interstellar space, there doesn’t even appear to be a minor issue at hand.

You look up at Hansol, who is patiently awaiting your response.

“Why was the Emergency Revival System triggered?” you ask hesitantly.

He stares at you for a second before responding.

“I don’t know.”

“And is anything malfunctioning? At all?”

He shakes his head.

“I’ve run all diagnostics twice - nothing. If there’s a problem somewhere, it’s undetectable.”

You grimace. Hansol lets out a sigh. You both know you only have one option here.

“Well, guess we better start combing the place. Find the problem ourselves.”

He nods resolutely. You head to the supply room together, gearing up in silence. You grab as many tools as you can carry - anything you might need to repair… whatever the issue is. 

“Alright, I’ll start at the fore, you start at the aft. Take your comms - radio me if you find anything, no matter how trivial.”

You prepare to head out, but the silence filling the room stops you. You turn around to see Hansol, geared up head to toe with supplies, holding two pulse rifles. He extends one to you.

“Why-”

“Just in case.”

“We’re the only ones here, and everyone else is still in stasis. Who would I possibly need to shoot?”

“Nobody. But you never know what you might come across.”

“Hansol if there was anyone, or… anything else on this ship we would know about it,” you reply, but not confidently. You know he’s right. Weird shit happens in deep space sometimes - better safe than sorry. You take the rifle. 

“Be careful, y/n.”

Normally if a subordinate addressed you informally, you would scold them. You have a good camaraderie with your crew, but you still demand respect. But you and Hansol have known each other for years - although you were never super close, you were still in the same class at the Academy. You did all your basic trainings together - and that kind of shit builds an unspoken bond. You wouldn’t necessarily consider him a friend, but truthfully you do see him as your equal. Being on a first name basis with him just comes naturally.

You give him a firm nod. “You too.”

He clips his rifle to his utility belt. “Meet you in the middle. Unless I find something first.” He shoots you a playfully-smug grin. “Which I will.”

You roll your eyes, but you grin back at him. “Hey, take your fucking time, it’s not a competition.”

“I know,” he says as he exits the room. His voice echoes from the hallway. “But I’m still gonna win.”

[two hours later]

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you shut the large panel door. You’ve checked what feels like a million controls and systems at this point, but - frustratingly - everything appears to be in order. Still no insight into what’s going on.

With an exhausted groan you sit on the ground, leaning your head back against the wall. You grab your canteen and chug some water. This type of work isn’t hard, but it’s fucking tiring. Not to mention boring as hell. At least you have an old mp3 player to keep you company, but you’re still too alone with your thoughts for your liking. As level-headed as you normally are, your mind can’t help but wander, imagining every terrible thing that could possibly happen. You try to push those thoughts aside, knowing you’re probably overthinking it. But the worries still linger. 

You close your eyes, zoning out to the sound of David Bowie’s voice in your ears:

I, I can remember (I remember) Standing, by the wall (by the wall) And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, for ever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

“Captain! Come in Captain!”

You jolt upright. You curse yourself, realizing you must have drifted off to sleep for a bit. It takes you a moment to process where the voice is coming from - but then you notice the red light of your comms lighting up on your wrist. 

“Hansol, come in.” you reply, bringing your arm up to your face.

“Geez, I was starting to think something happened to you.”

“Sorry, was just taking a rest. What’s up?”

“I found… something.”

“What do you mean ‘something’?"

“It’s easier if you see for yourself. Meet me in Cargo Bay 7.”

“Roger, on my way.”

The large pneumatic doors to the cargo bay open with a deep whoooosh. The coldness of the hangar stings your face as you step into the freezing room. Hansol’s head pokes up from behind several rows of large crates, his breath visible in the frigid air. He waves you over to him. 

“What is it?” you inquire as you approach him, but as you step around to where Hansol is facing, you see it. Along the side of the crate, where the door is meant to be sealed shut, is a large hole ripped through the multilayered titanium walls. The shredded-up metal protrudes outwards in a peculiar manner, almost as if…

You lean in to get a closer look at the busted door. Hansol’s arm instinctively shoots out in front of yours to stop you from getting too close.

“Be careful - we don't know what's in there.”

You give him a firm nod. You retrieve a crowbar from your toolkit, sticking it into the small opening. Hansol lifts his pulse rifle into position, pointing it at the crate. Slowly you heave the large door open. 

The beam of your flashlight illuminates the crate’s interior. In the center of the crate sits a biocapsule - not unlike the ones you use to enter stasis during long journeys, though notably larger. The capsule’s exterior is fitted with several, heavy-duty locking devices that appear to have been inadequate, given that the glass lid is almost entirely missing, accounting for the thick shards of broken glass strewn all over the floor. Dozens of tubes and wires connect the capsule to various bizarre pieces of machinery, presumably keeping its former occupant in stasis or something of the like. But now, it is vacant. Whoever - or, whatever - was in there, is gone. 

“Okay, this is fucking weird,” you say, turning to Hansol. “Live cargo isn’t even permitted on this ship. What do the logs have listed for this shipment’s contents?”

Hansol lifts his arm and activates what looks like a sleek wristwatch. The watch projects its hologrammatic display into the air in front of his face, featuring a small keyboard. He types in the crate’s serial number into the interface.

“Um,” he starts, his face remaining placid, but you can see the confusion in his eyes. “There’s no record of this container in the system.”

“Like… at all?”

He types in the number again, checking if he made a mistake. But the projected screen once again only says 0 results found.

“Nothin’.”

You furrow your brow. That should be impossible - crates go through two checkpoints to ensure they are registered correctly before they are even allowed on the ship. 

“Search the lot number.”

He types AT-07 into the device. It brings up the general cargo bay information - shipments are sorted into different bays depending on the type of contents they carry.

“‘General Plumbing Equipment’,” he reads from the screen.

You let out a short laugh.

“Plumbing equipment my ass.” 

“Yup,” Hansol agrees. “This has gotta be contraband.”

Despite all the weird shit that’s been going on, the man has remained cool as a cucumber the whole time. You’re reminded why you’ve hand-selected him to be your Pilot for the last six missions.

“So, we have no idea what this is or where it even came from.” 

Hansol nods. “Affirmative.”

You take a closer look at the hole. Crude, jagged edges line the gashes where the wall was torn asunder. Worse, however - deep scratches lay engraved around the hole’s perimeter, distinctly made in sets of three; they look eerily like claw marks. It looks exactly like what you’d expect a titanium crate to look like if something large broke out of it. But, the impenetrable thickness of the walls renders the crate nearly indestructible. Whatever being was held here - it is capable of gargantuan strength. 

“What could have possibly done this?” you ask - not necessarily to Hansol, for you know he doesn't know either. You really would rather not find out, but that doesn't seem like an option at this point. 

Hansol stares into the bizarre crate, mind racing with theories and questions. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”

You turn to face your Pilot. His demeanor is unchanged, but he looks undeniably concerned. As are you. 

“Well. What now?”

Hansol gives a slight shrug. 

“It's your call, boss.”

“Right,” you sigh. Being in charge of decision-making is something you've gotten very good at over the years, but it certainly is a burden sometimes.

A sudden few beeps resonate from Hansol’s wristband. He lifts his arm to read the notification. 

“The rest of the crew is waking up now,” he informs you. 

“Shit. We better go brief them on the situation.”

Hansol nods in agreement. He puts his flashlight back on his tool belt and pulls his pulse rifle up again - safety still on, but ready to fire if needed. You do the same, silently praying to any god who might be listening that you won't need to use it.

But you're not too optimistic about that. 

TAGLIST: @miniseokminnies @kyeomiis @tinycatharsis @hannieween @smiileflower @exomew 

sign up here to be tagged in the full fic 💫

[keehomania]

dark side — rcm (18+)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angst, smut, the story of anakin and padmé re-told, murder, genocide, swearing, reader is older than rafe here, death, the phantom menace, attack of the clones, revenge of the sith, emotional manipulation, fuck the jedis all my homies hate the jedis, unprotected sex, pregnancy

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

a galaxy far, far away was an arras of countless worlds, woven together by the invisible threads of trade routes, alliances, and ancient rivalries. at its heart stood the core worlds, dazzling centers of power and wealth, where spires of glittering cities pierced the heavens. beyond them stretched the mid rim, a crossroads of commerce, where prosperous planets bustled with life. and further still lay the outer rim—a lawless expanse of stars and shadows, where danger thrived in the absence of order.

in this vast universe, power was a currency, exchanged between those bold enough to seize it and those desperate enough to relinquish it. the galactic federation had long served as the fragile scaffolding of peace, uniting distant systems under a single banner. but peace, like the stars themselves, was fleeting. greed gnawed at its edges, and whispers of rebellion echoed through the void.

the skies above ilthara, a desert moon on the outer rim, burned with twin suns. beneath their relentless gaze sprawled a bustling spaceport, its air thick with the acrid scent of fuel and spice. traders bartered with shrill voices, hawking wares that glittered like starlight or reeked of danger. starships of every make and model hovered in dock, their hulls scarred from journeys across the galaxy’s treacherous veins.

rafe cameron was a child of this chaos. born into the cameron syndicate, whose name was spoken with a mixture of awe and disdain, his life had been one of no privilege painted in shades of grit. the syndicate thrived on control—of cargo lanes, planetary exports, and the illicit trade that oiled the galaxy's endless machinery. rafe, though only nine years old, bore the weight of this legacy like a mantle too large for his narrow shoulders, as a slave.

his mother had vanished years ago, swept away by the same treacheries that had made his father rich. his father, ward cameron, ruled their holdings with an iron fist, and though rafe was young, he had already learned that strength was not a choice—it was survival. he walked the crowded streets of ilthara’s markets with a practiced air of confidence, sharp blue eyes scanning every face, every deal, every hidden blade.

he was clever, too clever for his own good, many would say. where other children played, he schemed. where others begged for scraps, he found ways to barter, to manipulate. he was small for his age, wiry, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see too much and a mouth prone to smirking as if he already knew the punchline of a joke you hadn’t yet told.

that day, he sat atop a rusting cargo container, legs swinging idly, watching the chaos unfold below him. he liked to think of himself as a king surveying his kingdom, though in truth, his “kingdom” was little more than the market district where his father’s reach was strongest. still, he had learned that appearances mattered, and sitting up high gave him the advantage of looking down on everyone else.

“rafe!” a gruff voice cut through the clamor, and rafe turned to see garro, one of his father’s enforcers, lumbering toward him. “what do you think you’re doing up there? your old man’ll skin me alive if i lose track of you.”

rafe rolled his eyes but slid down from his perch, landing in a puff of dust. “relax, garro. you worry too much.”

“it’s my job to worry,” the man grunted, his scarred face contorting into something that might have been a frown. “your father doesn’t want you wandering off.”

“i’m not wandering,” he retorted, brushing the sand off his trousers. “i’m observing. there’s a difference.”

garro muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue. he knew better than to try reasoning with the boy. rafe had his father’s stubborn streak, though he wielded it with a charm that could be disarming—when he chose to use it.

the market was alive with noise and color, from the sizzling of food stalls to the sharp calls of traders hawking everything from exotic spices to battered starship parts. rafe wove through the crowd with ease, his small frame slipping between larger bodies like a shadow. he listened, always listened. every whispered deal, every raised voice, every nervous glance—it all painted a picture of the galaxy’s ceaseless dance of power and survival.

he stopped in front of a stall where a twi’lek merchant was haggling with a rodian over the price of a damaged hyperdrive coil. rafe didn’t need to hear the details to know the coil was stolen—it was written in the way the twi’lek’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter.

“three hundred credits,” the rodian barked, waving his blaster for emphasis.

“five hundred,” the twi’lek shot back, though his voice wavered.

“four,” rafe interjected boldly, stepping between them. both aliens turned to him, startled, but rafe only smiled. “and you’ll throw in that fuel regulator,” he added, nodding toward a piece of equipment half-hidden under the counter.

“who do you think you are, kid?” the rodian growled, his green skin darkening with irritation.

“someone who knows a good deal when he sees one,” rafe replied, unfazed. he turned to the twi’lek. “four hundred credits and the regulator. take it or leave it.”

the twi’lek hesitated, then nodded quickly. “fine. take it.”

the rodian grumbled but handed over the credits, snatching up the hyperdrive coil and the regulator before stomping off. rafe grinned, satisfied. he hadn’t earned anything from the deal, but he didn’t need to. influence was its own reward. but as the day wore on, the usual rhythm of the market began to shift. whispers spread like wildfire, voices hushed yet urgent. a ship had landed at the spaceport—not just any ship, but a royal cruiser, its polished hull gleaming even under ilthara’s harsh suns.

rafe felt the change before he saw it, the way the crowd grew uneasy, their movements jittery. he followed the murmurs, weaving through the throng until he reached the edge of the landing platform. and there it was—a sleek vessel, unlike anything he’d ever seen. Its ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics, and figures began to descend. first came the guards, their blasters held with military precision. then came two men in brown robes, their hoods pulled low but their presence undeniable. jedi.

rafe’s heart skipped. he’d heard the stories, of course—who hadn’t? but seeing them in the flesh was something else entirely. they moved with a calm purpose, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their lightsabers. and then you appeared. your dress was simple yet elegant, your posture regal. even from a distance, rafe could see the weight you carried, the responsibility etched into your features. you were older than him—fourteen, maybe fifteen—but there was something about you that made you seem untouchable.

“who is she?” he asked aloud, though no one answered. it didn’t matter. rafe didn’t need to know your name to feel the pull of destiny.

rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were unlike anyone he’d ever seen, your very presence radiating authority and elegance, yet there was something in your eyes—something fragile, as if the weight of the galaxy rested on your shoulders. the crowd parted instinctively as you moved, flanked by the two jedi. whispers rippled through the market like a gust of wind.

“that’s the queen of naboo,” someone murmured.

“the jedi are protecting her.”

“why is she here? what does naboo want with ilthara?”

rafe absorbed the words without reacting, his sharp mind piecing together the puzzle. naboo was a distant world, far removed from the outer rim. its queen’s presence here was no coincidence. whatever your reasons, they were tied to the unrest gripping the galaxy.

you had stopped at a stall, her delicate fingers brushing over a display of woven fabrics. the merchant stammered nervously under your gaze, bowing repeatedly. rafe edged closer, his curiosity getting the better of him.

he was so focused on you that he didn’t notice the jedi until he nearly walked into one. the taller of the two—broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes—glanced down at him. rafe froze, suddenly aware of how small he was in the presence of someone so commanding.

“careful, young one,” the jedi said, his voice calm but firm.

rafe blinked, recovering quickly. “i wasn’t doing anything,” he replied, feigning innocence.

the jedi didn’t respond, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to you.

rafe’s attention shifted back to the you. you were closer now, inspecting a piece of jewelry the merchant had presented. your guards stood rigid, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats. it was then that your gaze lifted and met his. for a heartbeat, time seemed to still. you eyes were a rich color, deep and full of questions. rafe felt as if you could see straight through him, past his confident smile and into the boy beneath.

“who are you?” you asked, your voice soft but commanding.

rafe hesitated, caught off guard. “rafe,” he said finally. “rafe cameron.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’re not from naboo.”

he laughed, a sound that came out sharper than he intended. “no, i’m not. and you’re not from around here.”

you didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “no. i’m not.”

the older jedi stepped forward, a subtle but clear gesture of protection. “your majesty,” he said gently, “we should move on.” your gaze lingered on the young boy for a moment longer before she nodded. “of course, master qui-gon.”

rafe watched as you turned and walked away, the jedi and your guards forming a protective circle around you. he felt a strange pang in his chest, a sense of loss he couldn’t explain. but he wasn’t ready to let you go.

as you and your entourage made your way through the market, rafe followed at a distance, keeping to the shadows. he wasn’t sure why—something about you drew him in, a magnetic pull he couldn’t resist. you were out of place here, just like him, and he wanted to understand why. he wasn’t the only one watching you, though. across the market, a group of rough-looking men had begun to move, their eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam. rafe recognized them immediately—slavers, the kind who preyed on the weak and desperate.

his jaw tightened. slavers were common on Ilthara, and while the cameron syndicate didn’t deal in flesh, his father often turned a blind eye to their operations. But this was different. you didn’t belong here, and you didn’t deserve to fall into their hands. without thinking, rafe quickened his pace, slipping through the crowd until he was just behind the slavers. they were murmuring to each other, their intentions clear.

“she’ll fetch a high price,” one of them muttered.

“keep your voice down,” another snapped. “wait for the right moment.”

rafe’s hands clenched into fists. he didn’t know what he could do against men twice his size, but he couldn’t just stand by. before he could act, though, the jedi moved. qui-gon and the younger man—obi-wan, rafe overheard someone say—turned as one, their movements fluid and precise. In the blink of an eye, their lightsabers ignited, blue and green blades humming with an otherworldly energy.

the crowd scattered, gasps and screams filling the air as the jedi advanced on the slavers. the men hesitated for a moment, clearly realizing they were outmatched, before fleeing into the shadows. rafe stood frozen, his heart pounding. he’d never seen a lightsaber in action before, and the sight of it left him awestruck.

you turned, your expression calm but your eyes wary. “is everything all right, master qui-gon?”

he deactivated his saber, nodding. “for now. but we should hurry. this place is dangerous.”

as the group began to move again, rafe found himself stepping forward. “wait!” he called, surprising even himself. you had turned around, your brow furrowing slightly.

“you’re not safe here,” rafe said, his voice steadier than he felt. “i can help you.”

qui-gon regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “and why would you help us?”

rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting to you. “because i can,” he said finally. “and because i want to.” for a moment, no one spoke. then, you nodded. “very well. lead the way, rafe cameron.”

the air in the dimly lit chamber buzzed with tension as the group huddled around the holographic map of the galaxy. you, with your regal poise unwavering even under dire circumstances—listened intently to qui-gon and obi-wan discuss their next move.

“our best course of action is to reach coruscant,” qui-gon said, his deep voice steady. “the galactic senate must be informed of the trade federation’s blockade and the invasion of naboo. they may not act swiftly, but they need to know.”

you nodded, your expression unreadable. “and how do we get there with a damaged hyperdrive? we’re stranded unless we make repairs.”

obi-wan leaned over the console, his brow furrowed. “there’s a remote desert planet nearby—tatooine. its location on the outer rim keeps it out of the trade federation’s reach. we might find the parts we need there.”

“you’re suggesting we gamble on the resources of a planet run by gangsters and criminals?” captain panaka interjected, his voice tight with concern.

qui-gon’s expression softened but remained resolute. “it’s a risk, but one we must take. staying here is not an option.”

in the corner of the room, rafe stood quietly, listening but not fully understanding the weight of their decision. his sharp blue eyes darted between the speakers, lingering on you—now disguised as a handmaiden. you had shed the heavy robes and ornate headdress of naboo royalty, blending into the background with the other attendants.

rafe’s gaze lingered as you adjusted the folds of your cloak, your every movement drawing his attention like a magnet. he had never seen anyone so poised, so out of reach yet entirely captivating. the sleek silver starship descended onto the golden sands of tatooine, its engines whining as the ship struggled to land smoothly. the harsh desert sun blazed overhead, reflecting off the endless dunes and casting long shadows.

the group disembarked cautiously, the arid heat hitting them like a physical force. rafe shielded his eyes from the glare, taking in the sprawling spaceport of mos espa—a chaotic mix of ramshackle buildings, alien vendors, and dust-choked streets.

“i don’t like this place,” rafe muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

qui-gon, accompanied by jar jar binks and r2-d2, turned to face you and your disguised attendants. “stay with the ship. i’ll find the parts we need.”

you stepped forward, determined despite the jedi’s warning look. “master jinn, perhaps i can assist. i’ve learned to barter and negotiate during my time in service.”

qui-gon hesitated, then nodded. “stay close.”

rafe immediately perked up. “can i come too?”

obi-wan stepped in, his voice firm. “you’ll remain here, rafe. it’s safer.” the boy frowned but didn’t argue. instead, he watched as you and the others disappeared into the labyrinth of the marketplace.

rafe spent the better part of the day wandering near the ship, restless and bored. when you finally returned, dusty and weary from the search, he rushed to meet you. there wasn’t a chance in the world of him taking his eyes off you, not when you looked so beautiful, so etherreal—unlike anything he had ever seen.

“are you an angel?” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing the moment the words left his mouth.

you paused, taken aback by the question. “excuse me?”

“an angel,” he repeated, his voice more confident this time. “i heard some pilots talking about them. they’re the most beautiful creatures in the galaxy, and they live on the moons of Iego. are you from there?”

a smile tugged at your lips, despite yourself. “no, i’m afraid not.”

“well, you look like one,” rafe said earnestly.

the sincerity in his eyes caught you off guard. for all his young swagger and bravado, there was still a boyish innocence to him—a flicker of hope in an otherwise hardened exterior. you crouched to his level, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” rafe grinned, the kind of grin that hinted at the man he would someday become.

that evening, as you sat with obi-wan outside the ship, he explained the harsh realities of tatooine. “slavery is rampant here,” obi-wan said, his voice low. “the hutts control most of the planet, and anyone who crosses them doesn’t last long.”

“and rafe?” you asked, your heart sinking. “he’s a slave too, isn’t he?”

obi-wan nodded. “he belongs to the cameron family—a notorious group of slavers who’ve operated here for decades. his father is ruthless, but the boy—he’s different. there’s something about him.” your chest tightened. you had sensed it too—a spark in rafe that defied his circumstances, a potential for something greater.

when qui-gon proposed entering rafe in the boonta eve classic podrace to win the parts they needed, the boy’s face lit up with excitement. “i can do it,” he insisted. “i’ve built my own podracer. it’s fast—really fast.” you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of sending someone so young off, knowing the damage that it could do, but he persisted, nonetheless.

your worries failed to falter, even as the race started. it all seemed like a blur of adrenaline and danger, the roar of engines echoing across the desert. you watched from the stands, your heart in your throat as rafe maneuvered his podracer with skill and precision far beyond his years. your worries were cut short when he crossed the finish line, the sound of the crowd erupting in cheers drowning out your fear.

while preparing to leave tatooine, a conspicuous shadow fell over the dunes. to the others, he needed no introduction, but the look of fear in rafe’s eyes made it evident that he bad no idea what he was really getting into. when darth maul appeared, his crimson double-bladed lightsaber ignited with a menacing hum.

qui-gon faced him head-on, his green blade contradicting the sith’s fiery red. “go!” he had shouted over his shoulder. “get to the ship!” rafe clutched your hand as you ran, his small fingers trembling. the clash of sabers rang in your ears, the stakes suddenly feeling far too real for him to handle.

the hangar bay of the naboo palace was silent save for the hum of the force field gates and the ominous footsteps of darth maul. his black robes swept the floor as he stepped forward, his tattooed face a mask of focus and malevolence. qui-gon jinn and obi-wan kenobi ignited their lightsabers, the green and blue blades illuminating their determined faces. maul, in response, revealed his double-bladed crimson weapon, both ends sparking to life with a snap-hiss. the sith’s grin widened. he prowled like a predator sizing up its prey.

the first clash of sabers echoed across the chamber, a flurry of sparks flying as the jedi and the sith locked into combat. qui-gon moved with deliberate precision, his strikes steady and purposeful. obi-wan, younger and more agile, darted around maul with quick, fluid movements, searching for an opening. maul, however, held the advantage. his acrobatics were dazzling, his twin blades a blur of lethal light.

from the shadows, you watched with bated breath. the duel was unlike anything you had ever seen—elegant yet brutal, a deadly dance of light and shadow. rafe stood beside you, his small hands gripping the railing tightly. his wide eyes reflected the glow of the sabers, a mix of awe and fear etched into his face.

“they can win, right?” he asked quietly.

you glanced at him, unsure of how to respond. “they have to.”

the duel moved out of the hangar and into a long, narrow corridor lined with energy barriers that activated and deactivated in rhythmic intervals. the combatants were forced to adapt to the environment, their battle pausing and resuming as the barriers shifted. obi-wan, momentarily separated from qui-gon, stood helplessly behind one of the fields, his face tense with worry. qui-gon faced maul alone, his strikes still strong but beginning to slow. the sith pressed the advantage, his movements relentless and precise. with a sudden, ferocious lunge, he struck qui-gon in the chest.

“no!” obi-wan’s shout echoed down the corridor as qui-gon staggered backward, his lightsaber slipping from his grasp. he collapsed to the floor, clutching his wound, his breath ragged.

in the hangar, rafe turned to you, his expression panicked. “we have to help them!”

“stay here,” you said firmly, grabbing his arm before he could dart off. “you’ll only put yourself in danger.”

“i can’t just stand here!” he insisted, his voice cracking.

“listen to me,” you said, crouching to meet his eye level. “sometimes, the best thing we can do is trust them to do what they’ve trained for.” rafe hesitated, tears pooling in his eyes, but he nodded reluctantly.

when the energy barrier deactivated, obi-wan surged forward, his lightsaber a blur of blue light as he unleashed a flurry of attacks on maul. his strikes were fueled by rage and grief, each swing more aggressive than the last. maul, however, was ready. he deflected obi-wan’s blows with ease, his smug grin only stoking the jedi’s fury. the fight moved to a deep reactor shaft, its narrow walkways suspended over a seemingly endless drop.

maul’s taunts were silent but evident, his predatory gaze daring obi-wan to make a mistake. and he did. with a precise kick, maul sent the jedi tumbling over the edge. obi-wan managed to grab hold of a protruding ledge, his lightsaber falling into the abyss below. hanging precariously, he looked up to see maul looming above him, his red blade poised for the killing blow.

in the hangar, rafe’s restless energy reached a boiling point. “i have to do something,” he muttered, his voice trembling. before you could stop him, he darted toward the starship he had piloted earlier. Yyu called after him, but he was already climbing into the cockpit.

“what are you doing?” you shouted.

“helping!” he called back, his voice muffled by the canopy.

rafe powered up the starfighter, its engines roaring to life. he maneuvered it with surprising skill, guiding it toward the palace’s main control tower. in the reactor shaft, obi-wan closed his eyes, drawing on the force to calm his racing heart. he reached out with his mind, summoning qui-gon’s fallen lightsaber.

the green blade flew into his outstretched hand, igniting just as maul prepared to strike. with a powerful leap, obi-wan launched himself back onto the walkway, catching the sith off guard. in a final, decisive move, he sliced through maul’s midsection. the sith’s body fell into the abyss, his expression of shock frozen in time. obi-wan deactivated the lightsaber, quick to rush to qui-gon’s side.

the jedi master’s face was pale, his breaths shallow. “obi-wan, promise me something,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“anything, master,” he said, tears streaming down his face.

“train the boy,” qui-gon said, his gaze shifting to rafe, who had just entered the room. “he—he is the chosen one.” and just like that, his eyes closed, his head tilting to the side as he breathed his last.

in the skies above naboo, rafe found himself in the middle of the battle. his small hands gripped the controls tightly as he weaved through enemy fire, his instincts guiding him. he accidentally entered the droid control ship’s hangar, where his starfighter’s torpedoes misfired, hitting the reactor core. a chain reaction of explosions began to tear the ship apart.

“oops,” he muttered, his face pale as he scrambled to escape. he barely made it out as the control ship exploded in a brilliant flash of light. the droid army on the surface shut down, collapsing mid-attack.

the people of naboo and the gungans united in celebration. the streets of theed were filled with music and cheers as you and your allies marched in triumph.

rafe stood beside you, his face a mix of pride and uncertainty. “i didn’t mean to blow it up,” he said sheepishly.

you laughed, ruffling his hair. “you saved the day, rafe. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

the galaxy had grown restless in the years since the boy named rafe won his freedom and began training under obi-wan kenobi. the republic, once a beacon of peace and stability, was now a fractured entity, its senate riddled with corruption and inefficiency. systems began seceding, joining the separatists under the enigmatic count dooku, a former jedi turned political leader. whispers of war rippled through the galaxy, and the jedi order found itself stretched thin, forced to serve as both peacekeepers and soldiers in a galaxy teetering on the edge of chaos.

rafe had changed in the years since he was freed. the child who once wore a lopsided grin and looked at the stars with wonder had grown into a man. his presence was commanding, his voice steady, his features refined and sharp. the dark curls of his hair framed his face, and his eyes, once bright with innocence, now carried the weight of someone who had seen far too much in far too little time. he stood taller now, his shoulders broad, his movements deliberate. his strength in the force had blossomed, but his emotions—intense and untamed—remained a challenge for him, often clashing with the rigid codes of the jedi order.

it was during this period of uncertainty that your paths crossed again. you had grown too, rising to prominence as a senator, your voice a steady force of reason in the republic’s senate. it had been years since you’d seen rafe, but his memory lingered in the back of your mind like a distant star, faint but unwavering. your days were consumed by the demands of politics, and your nights offered little solace as the threats against your life increased. the stakes of the galaxy's future weighed heavily on you, and danger had become a constant companion.

the jedi council assigned obi-wan kenobi and his padawan, rafe, to your protection after the first assassination attempt nearly claimed your life. the moment you saw him again, your breath caught in your throat. he was no longer the boy you remembered but a man who carried himself with a quiet confidence that was almost disarming. his robes flowed elegantly around him, and his gaze, once warm and open, now held an intensity that both unnerved and captivated you.

“senator,” he greeted with a formal bow, his voice deep and steady.

you met his gaze, your own faltering for a moment. “rafe. it’s been a long time.”

his lips twitched as though he wanted to smile, but the weight of his role kept his expression neutral. “too long,” he replied, his tone betraying the slightest hint of warmth. for a time, it seemed his mentor, obi-wan, was the only one who noticed the flicker of something unspoken between you.

the night of the second assassination attempt was chaotic. you awoke to the faint hum of servos as a sleek droid slipped into your quarters, its metallic limbs moving with eerie precision. before you could cry out, the door burst open, and rafe was there, his lightsaber blazing. the blue glow of his weapon illuminated the room as he moved with the grace and precision of a trained warrior, slicing the droid in two before it could harm you.

he turned to you immediately, his breathing slightly labored. “are you hurt?”

you shook your head, still shaken but unharmed. “no. i’m fine, thanks to you.”

obi-wan arrived shortly after, assessing the scene with his sharp eyes. “this attack was no coincidence. they’ll try again. we need to get the senator off-world.”

rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “i’ll go with her.”

obi-wan hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and rafe. “are you sure that’s wise?”

“i’ll keep her safe,” rafe said with a conviction that left no room for argument.

the journey to naboo was quiet. the lush, rolling hills and tranquil lakes of your home planet offered a stark contrast to the chaos you had left behind on coruscant. for the first time in what felt like years, you could breathe. yet, even amidst the serenity of naboo, there was an unspoken tension between you and rafe, a tension that grew with each passing day.

one evening, the two of you sat by the water’s edge, the setting sun casting golden hues over the lake. rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. “i used to dream about this place. when i was a boy, on tatooine, i used to imagine what it would be like to see naboo with my own eyes.”

you glanced at him, your heart aching at the memory of the boy he had been. “and now that you’re here?”

“it’s more beautiful than i could have imagined,” he said, his gaze lingering on you as he spoke.

his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you turned away, your mind racing. “rafe, we can’t. you know what the jedi code says.”

“i don’t care about the code,” he said, his voice suddenly fierce. “not when it comes to you.”

before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative but full of emotion. for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in him, before pulling away, your heart pounding.

“rafe, this isn’t right,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction. you couldn’t focus on what your heart asked for, you needed to focus on what mattered—your people.

“i know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “but it doesn’t change how i feel.”

the days that followed were as tense as ever, both of you teetering on the edge of something forbidden yet irresistible. but rafe’s peace was short-lived. his dreams began to haunt him, vivid and terrifying visions of his mother in pain, crying out for help. he woke one night drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged.

“i need to go to tatooine,” he told you the next morning, his expression grim.

you didn’t hesitate. “i’ll go with you.”

the journey to tatooine was somber, and the planet greeted you with its unforgiving heat and endless dunes. at the lars homestead, rafe learned the devastating truth: his mother had been taken by tusken raiders weeks ago. without hesitation, he mounted a speeder and sped off into the desert, his jaw set with determination.

you followed, arriving at the camp just in time to witness the aftermath. the ground was littered with the bodies of tusken raiders, and rafe stood amidst the carnage, his lightsaber still ignited. his chest heaved with exertion, his face a mask of anguish and fury. later, back at the ship, he confessed everything to you, his voice trembling with shame and anger.

“i killed them,” he said, his gaze fixed on the floor. “every last one of them. and not just the men, but the women, and the children. they were animals, and i slaughtered them like animals.”

you reached for him, but he pulled away, his shoulders shaking. “i couldn’t save her. i couldn’t do anything.”

you sat beside him in silence, your heart breaking for the man who was clearly at war with himself.

the galaxy had shifted once again, and as the republic scrambled to understand the scope of the growing separatist threat, rafe’s anguish over his mother’s death weighed heavily on him. the dark seed planted in his heart during that moment of rage on tatooine had begun to take root. you could see it in the way his jaw clenched, in the faraway look that occasionally clouded his otherwise piercing eyes. his internal struggle was palpable, and it pained you to see the boy you once knew so tormented by emotions he couldn’t control.

you left tatooine quickly, both of you seeking distance from the horrors that had transpired. rafe was quieter now, his usual confidence replaced by a brooding intensity. even as you tried to comfort him, offering words of solace and gentle touches on his arm, you could feel the wall he had built around himself growing thicker.

your brief respite was interrupted when rafe received word from obi-wan. his mentor had tracked the bounty hunter responsible for the attempts on your life to the planet kamino. there, obi-wan had discovered a massive army of clones commissioned in secret years ago, supposedly at the request of a long-dead jedi named sifo-dyas. the clones were based on the genetic template of the very bounty hunter who had tried to kill you.

rafe listened to the transmission in silence, his expression unreadable. when obi-wan informed him that he was pursuing the bounty hunter to geonosis, rafe turned to you. “i have to help him,” he said simply, his voice steady but heavy with determination.

“and what about me?” you asked, your heart sinking at the thought of him leaving.

his gaze softened, the conflict in his eyes breaking through his stoic demeanor. “i need you to stay safe. but if you insist on coming with me, i won’t stop you. i can’t bear to leave you behind.”

you chose to go with him. the two of you traveled to geonosis, where the tension between you only deepened. the unspoken feelings, the stolen moments, the lingering glances—they all weighed heavily on both of you. upon arriving on the barren, rocky world, it didn’t take long to locate obi-wan. unfortunately, you were quickly captured by separatist forces and thrown into a holding cell alongside him. rafe’s frustration was evident as he paced the confines of your prison, his fists clenched and his mind racing for a way to escape.

“rafe, calm down,” obi-wan urged, his voice steady. “losing control won’t help us here.”

rafe shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “i won’t let them hurt her,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

before either of you could respond, you were dragged from your cell and taken to the geonosian arena. the heat of the midday sun was oppressive as you were chained to one of three stone pillars. across the sand, monstrous creatures were released, their snarls and roars filling the air.

the fight that ensued was desperate. rafe moved like a whirlwind, using his lightsaber and the force to keep the creatures at bay. obi-wan fought alongside him, their movements fluid and precise despite the dire circumstances. you did your best to fend off the beast that lunged toward you, using the resources around you to stay alive until rafe reached your side.

“i’ve got you,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. his words were both a promise and a comfort, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay.

relief came in the form of mace windu and a battalion of jedi, their lightsabers igniting in unison as they stormed the arena. the sight was awe-inspiring, and for a moment, it seemed as though victory was within reach. but the separatists refused to surrender, and the battle quickly escalated into an all-out war as droids poured into the arena.

in the midst of it, you were separated from rafe. he fought valiantly alongside obi-wan, his determination unwavering despite the odds. when the bounty hunter jango fett was killed in the melee, rafe barely spared him a glance, his focus fixed on the larger threat looming over the galaxy.

the battle raged on, culminating in a chase as count dooku attempted to flee the planet. rafe and obi-wan pursued him, their dropship racing across the barren landscape. you had managed to rejoin them, but the pursuit took a devastating turn when you were thrown from the ship during a violent maneuver.

“turn back!” rafe shouted, his voice filled with panic.

obi-wan grabbed his arm, his tone firm. “we can’t. if we lose dooku now, everything we’ve fought for will be in vain.” rafe hesitated, his eyes darting between you and the fading trail of dooku’s ship. finally, he made the painful decision to continue the chase, his jaw tightening as he turned away from the sight of you lying unconscious on the ground below.

the confrontation with dooku was brutal. the sith lord was a formidable opponent, his skill with a lightsaber far surpassing what either rafe or obi-wan had anticipated. rafe fought with everything he had, his emotions driving him as much as his training. but it wasn’t enough. dooku struck him down, severing his arm and leaving him writhing in pain on the ground.

obi-wan fared no better, and it wasn’t until yoda arrived that dooku’s escape was delayed. the diminutive jedi master fought valiantly, but dooku ultimately escaped, taking with him plans for a devastating weapon—the death star.

when you finally reunited with rafe, his injuries were severe, but his spirit remained unbroken. you stayed by his side as he recovered, your feelings for him growing stronger with each passing day. the war had only just begun, and the galaxy was in chaos, but for a brief moment, there was peace in the small, secret world you shared with him.

it was on naboo, under the soft light of the moon, that you and rafe made a choice that would forever alter the course of your lives. despite the jedi code, despite the war, despite everything, you pledged yourselves to each other in a quiet ceremony. it was a forbidden union, but in that moment, it felt like the only thing that truly mattered.

the soft hum of naboo's evening air filled the quiet, secluded garden where your forbidden ceremony was to take place. the lush greenery was dappled with the golden light of fireflies, their glow dancing along the delicate petals of exotic flowers that framed the scene. a serene lake stretched into the horizon, its waters mirroring the full moon and the endless stars above. everything felt alive and magical, as though the galaxy itself was holding its breath for this moment.

rafe stood beneath a canopy of wisteria, his tall figure framed by the delicate purple blooms. he was clad in simple jedi robes, but the way they draped over his broad shoulders made him look regal, commanding. his golden hair caught the moonlight, and his face held a mixture of determination and vulnerability. his eyes, deep and filled with unspoken emotion, never left yours as you approached him.

you wore a gown of soft ivory, simple yet elegant. it flowed like water, trailing behind you as you walked barefoot through the grass. your hair was adorned with small blossoms that rafe had picked himself earlier that day, each one a symbol of the beauty he saw in you.

the only witness to your union was the droid, r2-d2, who had faithfully followed rafe throughout his journey. his small, chirping beeps provided an oddly comforting backdrop, a reminder of the innocence and wonder that still existed despite the turmoil of the galaxy.

rafe reached for your hands the moment you were close enough, his touch warm and grounding. his thumb brushed over your knuckles as he took a steadying breath, his voice soft but firm when he spoke.

“i know this is forbidden,” he began, his words heavy with the weight of his choice. “but i also know that my love for you is stronger than anything I’ve ever been taught to fear. the code, it’s meant to protect us, but it can’t define what’s in my heart. and my heart belongs to you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. you squeezed his hands, your voice trembling as you replied.

“rafe, i’ve spent so long trying to suppress how i feel, trying to convince myself that this—this isn’t real. but it is. and i can’t imagine a future without you in it. if loving you is wrong, then i’ll break every rule a thousand times over, just to be by your side.”

he smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “you’ve always been braver than me,” he murmured, his voice tinged with admiration.

you both turned toward the small hologram projector that r2-d2 had activated, its flickering light casting an ethereal glow over the scene. the image of a naboo holy figure appeared, his serene expression a contrast to the quiet defiance in your hearts.

“do you, rafe cameron, take this woman to be your partner, to love her and stand by her, no matter what trials the galaxy may bring?”

rafe’s gaze never wavered from yours. “i do,” he said, his voice steady, filled with unwavering conviction.

“and do you, senator (y/n) (l/n),” the figure turned to you, “take this man to be your partner, to love him and remain by his side, through light and shadow?”

your lips trembled as you whispered, “i do.”

rafe reached into his pocket, pulling out a simple ring he had crafted himself. it wasn’t made of expensive materials, but the smooth, polished band reflected the care and effort he had put into it. he slid it onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly.

“i give you this ring,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion, “as a symbol of my promise to you. no matter where the galaxy takes us, no matter what challenges we face, i will always find my way back to you.”

you blinked back tears, pulling a similar band from your pocket. it was simple, but etched along its surface were faint patterns you had carved—a representation of the stars and the bond you shared. you placed it on his finger, your hands steady despite the flood of emotion. “and i give you this ring,” you said, your voice strong, “to remind you that you are my home. wherever you are, rafe, that’s where i’ll always belong.”

he stepped closer, his hands cradling your face as he leaned in. “i love you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. as his lips met yours, the world around you seemed to fade away. the fireflies paused their dance, the gentle rustle of the trees grew still, and for a moment, it was as though time itself held its breath.

rafe hadn’t returned to the jedi temple that night. the weight of his choices, the life he was trying to lead, and the love he could no longer deny had driven him straight to you. like a moth drawn to a flame, he was helpless against the pull you had over him, as though you had tethered him with an invisible string that always brought him back. every thought of you consumed him, every beat of his heart ached for the solace only you could provide.

the quiet hum of the naboo night greeted him as he slipped into your quarters, his presence nearly undetectable. his robes swished softly against the floor as he moved through the darkened space, the moonlight streaming through the curtains casting silver trails across the bed where you waited for him. his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you.

you were lying there, your body delicate on top of the thin sheets, wearing only a white lace tank top and the soft fabric of your panties. your hair cascaded over the pillow, catching the moonlight like strands of spun gold. the soft rise and fall of your chest matched the calm serenity of the room, but the look in your eyes—half-lidded, smoldering, filled with unspoken yearning—held an intensity that set his heart ablaze.

rafe’s steps slowed as he approached the foot of your bed. his jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he were trying to anchor himself, to restrain the wild tide of emotions surging within him. but the moment you reached out for him, all of his resolve crumbled.

“you’re here,” you whispered softly, your voice like a melody that seemed to soothe every wound he carried.

“i couldn’t stay away,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion as he sank onto the edge of the bed. he reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “you’re the most beautiful flower i’ve ever picked,” he murmured, his words carrying the weight of his reverence for you.

a soft blush bloomed across your cheeks, but you didn’t shy away from his touch. Instead, you reached for his hands, guiding them with deliberate slowness to the thin straps of your tank top. your eyes held his, unwavering and filled with trust, as you slid the straps down past your shoulders. the fabric fell just enough to reveal the delicate curve of your collarbone, and his breath hitched at the sight.

“i love you, rafe,” you whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the depth of your feelings. it was enough to unravel him completely.

his lips descended on yours with a softness that surprised you. there was no rush, no desperation—just the slow, deliberate melding of his mouth with yours. his hands cradled your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a passion that left you breathless, and yet it was tender, reverent, as though he were afraid of breaking you.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room. his hands slipped down to your shoulders, tracing the bare skin there as though memorizing every curve and line.

“i’ve never felt anything like this before,” he admitted, his voice a soft murmur against your lips. “you’ve changed everything for me, you’re my light.”

you reached up to cup his face, your fingers threading through his golden hair. his lips found yours again, with more urgency, more need. his hands trailed down your arms, brushing over the straps of your tank top until they slipped further down, baring more of your skin to the cool night air. you shivered beneath his touch, but it wasn’t from the cold—it was the warmth of his hands, the way they ignited a fire within you that only he could soothe.

his kiss grew deeper, more possessive, as his hands found the straps of your tank top once more. with a gentle tug, he pulled it down, watching the way the silk slipped down your body, revealing your breasts to the moonlit room. rafe’s eyes darkened, and he took a moment to drink in the sight of you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “my beautiful wife,” was all he could manage to utter.

you watched him, your eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and love. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, echoing the rhythm of the night outside. rafe’s hand slid up, cupping one of your breasts, his thumb flicking over the sensitive nipple. a soft moan escaped your lips, and he took that as his cue to lean down, capturing the peak in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tightened bud.

your hands found his robes, pulling at the material. the fabric was thick, but yielded easily to your insistent touch. rafe helped you, his own hands trembling with desire. you watch the robes slide off, revealing his bare chest, his muscles taut and warm. you ran your hands over his skin, feeling his heart pound in sync with yours, the heat of his body against your palms.

his kisses grew more frantic as he moved down your body, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone. his hands found the waistband of your panties, and with a gentle tug, he pulled them down. you lifted your hips to assist, eager to feel the fullness of his touch. his kisses traveled lower, along your torso, until his mouth reached the juncture of your thighs. your breath caught as he kissed along the inner length of your thighs, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. finally, his mouth found the center of your desire, his tongue flicking against your clit in a way that made your toes curl.

“rafe,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “feels so good, ’s too much.”

when you thought you had reached the final state of nirvana too high to manage, rafe pressed a finger into you, curling it upwards and gently pumping in and out. “have to get you ready for me, yeah?” he murmured between pumping and licking. after a few pumps, he added another finger, keeping a steady rhythm with his tongue against your clit, his long fingers hitting the exact right spot again, and again, and again. your breath began hitching and the edges of an orgasm neared. rafe continued pumping into you, pushing her closer toward the edge, his tongue a warm, wet pressure guiding you through your first time.

finally, you felt yourself crest over the edge, your body spasming and shaking with pleasure. “oh, rafe,” you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut. when you opened them, you swore you could finally see your husband in his glory. he looked at you as if you were all that mattered, as if he would do anything—cross anyone—just for your sake. he looked at you, and only you, because you were all he could see.

his mouth pulled away from your center, and he looked up at you with a proud, smug smile. “good?”

you nodded, unable to form coherent words. “so good.”

his smile grew wider, and he sat back, pulling his fingers from you. he stood up and pulled his robes the rest of the way off, revealing just how much he really needed you, standing proud and ready. you couldn’t help but look away, despite it was being everything you dreamed of, in a terrifyingly intimidating way. just a few days ago, you were the senator, your priority was your people. now, you were about to make love in secret, with the man you had married in secret.

rafe frowned at the look on your face. “it’ll be okay,” he assured, his voice soothing. “i promise, it’ll be okay.” you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. he took your hand, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin with a warm smile. it was his way of telling you that everything was going to be okay, reminding you of the reason you’d married him in the first place. he leaned over and kissed you, deep and passionate. once again, his hands found yours and he interlocked your fingers, squeezing them tight as he positioned himself between your legs.

his cock hovered above your entrance, the tip glistening with precum. you could feel the warmth of him, the heat of his desire. “are you ready?” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

you nodded, your heart racing. “yes,” you breathed. “i’m ready.”

his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation. finding none, he began to press himself into you, inch by agonizing inch. you bit your bottom lip to stifle a gasp as you felt yourself stretch around him. the pain was intense, but it was mixed with something else—a feeling of completeness, of finally being where you belonged. rafe’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth gritted as he pushed through the resistance of your virginity.

once he was fully sheathed, he stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation. “are you okay?” he couldn’t help but ask again, his voice strained with effort.

you nodded, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. “yes,” you whispered. “don’t stop.”

he began to move, his hips rolling into you in a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to echo the heartbeat of the entire galaxy. you felt your body responding to him, tightening around him, drawing him in deeper with every stroke. the pain began to recede, replaced by something much more powerful—desire. being this close to you, this intimate—it was intoxicating.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him closer. rafe’s eyes closed, his head dropping to your shoulder as he began to thrust into you with more force. your moans grew louder, your body moving in perfect sync with his. it was as though you had been made for this, as though every cell in your body had been waiting for this moment. the room grew warmer, the air thick with passion and need. the smell of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the scent of his sweat, creating a heady aroma that only served to drive him wilder. he could feel himself getting closer to the edge, but he didn’t want it to end. not yet.

rafe’s hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit again. he began to rub in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his hips. your muscles tightened around him, your nails digging into his skin as you climbed closer to your peak. “rafe, rafe, rafe,” you chanted, your voice breathy and desperate, as if his name was the only thing on your mind. that was exactly how he wanted it to be.

his strokes grew quicker, more urgent, as he felt his own climax approaching. “i’m so close,” he murmured into your ear, his voice ragged with desire. he contemplated his choices, his eyes hazy with an unspoken wish that needed no words, you could see it in the way he looked at you. “can i—”

you nodded, your eyes squeezed shut, your body taut with anticipation. “yes, rafe. please.”

he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he felt his release building, the tension coiling in his belly as he held you close, almost as if he was afraid of losing you. he held you, his hips snapping against your flesh as he pumped in and out of you. finally, with a guttural groan, he came, his warmth filling you. he held still for a moment, his breaths hot against your neck as he enjoyed the feeling of your body clenching around him. you felt a strange sense of pride, knowing that you had brought this powerful man to such a vulnerable state.

you both laid there, panting, your bodies entwined as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through you. his weight was comforting, grounding. you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in a long time. the room was silent except for the sound of your hearts beating in unison. slowly, rafe pulled out of you, the stickiness of your combined releases a stark reminder of the intimate act you had just shared. he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rolling off the bed to grab a towel. he cleaned you up gently, wiping away any trace of himself from your body, treating you with a tenderness that was almost unbearable.

the galaxy stood on the precipice of change, the once-stalwart republic teetering under the weight of war. the clone wars raged on, leaving scars on planets and people alike. rafe, now a celebrated jedi knight, had become a war hero, hailed for his bravery and skill in battle. yet, beneath his stoic exterior, a storm brewed. the weight of his love for you, his clandestine wife, and the growing disillusionment with the jedi order were forces he could no longer ignore.

the council chambers of the jedi temple felt colder each day. rafe’s faith in the order had wavered. where once he had found guidance and purpose, he now encountered doubt and dismissal. his master, obi-wan, once a source of wisdom, now seemed more like an obstacle, a reminder of the life rafe could never fully embrace. in contrast, supreme chancellor palpatine had become a source of reassurance. his subtle praise and unyielding support had planted seeds of trust—and something darker—in rafe’s heart.

on a fateful mission, rafe infiltrated general rievous’s flagship to rescue chancellor palpatine, who had been “kidnapped” by the separatists. the mission was perilous, but rafe’s unparalleled determination saw them through. in the throne room of the ship, the two jedi confronted count dooku, the sith lord who had orchestrated much of the war.

lightsabers clashed in a symphony of sparks and fury, leaving rafe to face dooku alone. the duel was a blur of motion, rafe’s anger fueling his every strike. with a deft maneuver, he disarmed dooku, leaving the sith lord kneeling before him, defenseless.

“good, rafe,” palpatine said, his voice smooth and serpentine. “kill him. do it.”

he had hesitated, his lightsaber trembling in his grip. “he should stand trial,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

“trial?” palpatine scoffed. “he’s too dangerous to be kept alive. he’s the reason for this war, rafe. end it.”

dooku’s eyes widened, and for the first time, fear crossed his face. rafe looked into those eyes and saw not just an enemy, but a representation of every failure, every loss, every injustice he had endured. with a surge of anger, he ignited his blade, slashing it through dooku’s neck. the sith lord’s head fell to the floor, and with it, a piece of rafe’s soul.

the ship landed safely, and the republic hailed rafe as a hero. but his heart felt heavier than ever. he returned to you, seeking solace in the one person who could still bring him peace. you were waiting on the balcony of your apartment, the coruscant skyline glittering in the distance. the soft breeze carried the scent of the city, but it was the sight of you that arrested him. standing there, illuminated by the warm glow of the city lights, you were his sanctuary.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he approached, his voice heavy with emotion.

you turned, smiling softly. “it’s only because i’m so in love.”

he chuckled, his hands cupping your face. “no, it’s because i’m so in love with you.”

you kissed him, slow and tender, the world falling away. as you pulled back, you placed his hand gently on your abdomen. “rafe,” you began, your voice trembling with both excitement and fear, “i’m pregnant.”

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he was silent, his breath stolen by the enormity of your words. then, a brilliant smile spread across his face. “we’re going to have a child?” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. he pulled you into his arms, holding you as though he could shield you from the galaxy itself. but as joy filled his heart, so too did a seed of fear.

the dreams began soon after. dark, haunting visions of you in pain, of your life slipping away as you brought their child into the world. each night, he woke in a cold sweat, the image of your lifeless body seared into his mind. the fear of losing you consumed him, driving him to the brink of obsession.

palpatine had noticed his turmoil and offered him a glimmer of hope. he spoke of darth plagueis, a sith lord who had unlocked the secrets of life and death. “there are ways to save those you love,” palpatine hinted, his words weaving a web around rafe’s fragile resolve. but the jedi council grew wary of palpatine’s influence. they tasked rafe with spying on the chancellor, a mission that stoked the fires of his anger. how could they ask him to betray the one man who had shown him unwavering support?

when rafe discovered that palpatine was darth sidious, the sith lord orchestrating the war, his world crumbled. he reported the revelation to the jedi council but found himself at a crossroads. could he truly turn his back on the man who held the key to saving you?

master mace windu confronted palpatine, seeking to end the sith threat once and for all. but as the battle unfolded, rafe’s desperation overtook him. he intervened, aiding palpatine in the fatal blow that ended windu’s life. it was anything but a rash decision—it was crucial. as a jedi, there was nothing he could do to fight fate, nothing he could say to stop you from falling into danger. it was going to be different, now. it was going to be different, because he had found a way to keep you safe.

“you have done well, my apprentice,” palpatine said, his voice a mixture of triumph and menace. “now, take your place at my side.”

broken and consumed by his fears, rafe knelt. “what is thy bidding, my master?”

sidious’s smile was cruel. “rise, darth vader.”

the galaxy descended into darkness as order 66 was executed. the jedi were hunted and slaughtered, their light extinguished in an instant. rafe, now darth vader, led the assault on the jedi temple, his heart hardened by the promises of power and salvation sidious had whispered to him. and yet, through it all, the memory of you lingered, a fragile thread of humanity he couldn’t sever. it was that thread that brought you to mustafar, tired, weak, and helplessly in love.

it had fallen into chaos. the republic, under a beacon of hope, was now crumbling under the weight of the newly declared galactic empire. you stood in the quiet of the imperial palace, trying to come to terms with the atrocities of the past days. the news had spread quickly, but still, your mind refused to accept what it meant. the jedi were dead—or so it seemed. yet, one name haunted you more than any other.

it was then that obi-wan arrived at your side. his expression was grave, eyes filled with the weight of countless losses.

“he’s gone,” obi-wan said, his voice low and steady, tinged with sorrow. “he’s strayed from the path of righteousness. he’s fallen.”

the words struck you like a blow to the chest. you had heard rumors, whispers among the few remaining jedi, but you refused to believe them. the man you loved, who had once vowed to fight for justice, could not have fallen to the darkness. he couldn’t have turned his back on everything he believed in, on you.

“you’re wrong, obi-wan,” you said, shaking your head, refusing to accept his words. “he would never do that.”

his face hardened, a shadow of regret crossing his features. “i wish i were wrong more than anything, but the truth is undeniable. the jedi are gone. you’ve seen the clones. the children. it’s all over.”

your heart pounded in your chest as his words settled in. the republic had fallen. the jedi had been exterminated. rafe—your rafe—was lost to the darkness, and the galaxy had been consumed by the rise of the sith. yet, even as the tears welled in your eyes, there was only one thought that consumed you.

“i have to find him,” you said urgently, as if somehow your voice alone could reverse everything that had happened. “he’s not lost. i know him, i can bring him back.”

obi-wan stepped forward, his gaze softening, but there was an air of helplessness in his eyes. “it’s too late. he has already pledged himself to sidious. there’s nothing you can do.”

“no,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i refuse to believe that.”

a long silence followed before obi-wan spoke again, his voice laced with pain. "he’s on mustafar. that’s where he’s been sent. i can’t—"

"you’ll come with me?" you asked, the words more of a plea than a request.

he hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “i will go, but not as a friend. i will go to stop him. to kill him, if necessary.”

you were already making your way to the transport shuttle before obi-wan could speak again. there was no time for hesitation now. you didn’t look back as the shuttle’s doors closed. you didn’t need to. your mind was set. you would find rafe, even if you had to tear the galaxy apart to do it.

meanwhile, obi-wan, understanding your determination, had no choice but to agree to travel with you. his reasons were not for your safety or your peace of mind, but for his own sense of duty. he knew the dangers that awaited them on mustafar, and that if rafe had truly turned, he would be forced to make an impossible decision. but that was a burden he had come to terms with long ago.

the stars flew by in a blur of lights as you descended into mustafar's fiery atmosphere. the molten rivers below flickered with a sinister glow, reflecting the burning hatred you felt rising in your chest. you had already promised yourself that no matter what, you would save him.

on coruscant, deep within the confines of the senate chambers, sidious had finally achieved his ultimate goal. the galactic republic, in an instant, had been transformed into an empire. the senate, once a symbol of the people's will, now bent the knee to its new emperor. the once-liberating democracy had been replaced by an authoritarian regime. the galaxy, torn by war, now had only one ruler—the sith lord, darth sidious.

the jedi’s greatest enemy, the embodiment of their worst fears, had taken full control of the galaxy. and yet, the fight was far from over. the jedi had not given up. yoda remained, standing alone in his defiance. his presence in the senate was a signal of the final struggle. sidious’s dark eyes met yoda’s as the two old foes stood across from one another, poised for their ultimate confrontation.

“you have lost, yoda,” sidious taunted, his voice cold, laced with a sadistic satisfaction. “the republic is mine, and you are but a relic of the past. it is time for you to join your fallen brethren.”

yoda, frail but resolute, held his lightsaber in a firm grip. “too late, it is. a new order, this galaxy shall know. dark your vision, sidious. the light, it will endure.”

the two charged, clashing with an intensity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the senate. sidious’s power was unparalleled, his dark side knowledge vast. yoda, despite his age, matched him strike for strike, his wisdom and mastery of the force making him a formidable opponent. but as the battle raged on, it became clear that sidious’s hold on the galaxy had become too strong.

the clash continued, the power of the dark side and the light intertwined in a desperate struggle. sidious fought with every ounce of energy he had, but yoda’s ancient strength was waning. his spirit, though unwavering, could not match the overwhelming force that sidious had unleashed.

in the end, yoda was defeated. but not before he had forced sidious to acknowledge the true strength of the jedi—resilience, hope, and belief in the light. as sidious declared his victory, yoda, with the last of his strength, slipped away into exile. his failure was painful, but not absolute. the fire of the Jedi had been dimmed, but it had not been extinguished. the last remaining hope had fled. the galaxy was now fully under sidious’s control. and the road to mustafar, to rafe, was one you would have to walk alone.

you found him standing at the edge of a molten river, his figure silhouetted against the hellish glow of mustafar’s fiery landscape. the harsh winds blew his dark hair back, and for a moment, he looked like a vision from a nightmare, the red light casting an almost otherworldly aura around him. rafe. your rafe. but so different now.

a surge of emotions flooded your chest as you ran toward him, your heart racing, hands trembling. you couldn’t help it. you needed him. you had to make him see the light, to make him remember the man he once was. you reached him, throwing your arms around him, the warmth of his body so much like the comfort you remembered. “what are you doing out here?” he whispered, his voice shaking with fear and longing. “i was so worried about you,” you admitted.

he didn’t return the embrace, standing stiff in your arms. his cold gaze met yours as he stepped back slightly, his expression unreadable. “obi-wan told me terrible things,” you continued, your voice trembling as you held onto the last thread of hope.

“what things?” his voice was flat, emotionless, but the flicker in his eyes told you that he already knew what was coming.

you swallowed hard, unable to contain the hurt. “he said you’ve turned to the dark side. that you—killed younglings.”

for a moment, there was silence. rafe's eyes darkened, the flicker of something dangerous stirring within him. he slowly shook his head, his lips curling into a sneer. “obi-wan is trying to turn you against me,” he said, the words thick with venom. the coldness in his voice cut deeper than anything you had ever felt from him.

you shook your head, stepping closer, desperate to bridge the gap between you. “he cares about us,” you said softly, your voice cracking with emotion. “he wants to help, rafe.”

he looked at you with something unreadable in his eyes. then, his gaze hardened. “us?” he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief, as if the very idea of it was foreign to him now. “you don’t understand. you don’t know what i’ve become.”

the cold, calculating stare he gave you made your heart twist with pain. this wasn’t the man you married. you could still see glimpses of him in the shadows of his expression, but it was slowly being drowned out by the dark power he had embraced. “rafe, please,” you begged. “all i want is your love.”

“love won’t save you,” he continued, his tone unwavering, “only my new powers can do that.”

you shook your head violently, a sob catching in your throat. “at what cost?” you asked, the words thick with desperation. “you’re a good person, rafe. don’t do this. please.” you took a step forward, reaching for him, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch.

“i won’t lose you the way i lost my mother,” he said, his voice hardening with a rawness that almost sounded like grief. “i’m becoming more powerful than any jedi has ever dreamed of, and i’m doing it for you. to protect you.”

tears welled in your eyes, your heart aching as you tried to make him understand. “rafe, please,” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. “come away with me. help me raise our child. leave everything behind while we still can.” you could feel the weight of the galaxy pressing down on you, the unbearable knowledge that if you didn’t make him listen now, you might lose him forever.

his eyes hardened, the flicker of humanity in his gaze extinguished by the cold darkness that had taken root. “we don’t have to run anymore,” he said, his voice low and full of conviction. “i have brought peace to the republic. i am more powerful than the chancellor, i can overthrow him. and together, you and i can rule the galaxy.”

you stared at him, disbelief coursing through your veins. “i can’t believe this,” you whispered. “obi-wan was right.”

your words hung in the air between you, a brutal truth neither of you could escape. his anger was evident, running down the river of change that flooded his body. “i don’t want to hear any more about obi-wan,” he practically hissed. “the jedi turned against me—don’t you turn against me.”

“you’re breaking my heart, rafe,” you whispered, choking on the pain. “you’re going down a path i can’t follow.”

“because of obi-wan?”

“because of what you’ve done, what you plan to do.”

he stood there, the cruel shadows of his new self tainting the once warm look he had given you. “i love you,” you whispered through your tears, but it was hollow. the words no longer held the weight they once did, no matter how much you meant it.

rafe shook his head, his empty gaze holding onto tears that threatened to spill over. “liar!” he shouted, the anguish in his voice more than you could bear.

his face twisted into something darker, more feral. before you could even react, his hand shot out, his powers grabbing you by the throat, the force of them tightening with unnatural strength. your breath caught in your chest as the world seemed to spin around you. his eyes burned with an intensity that terrified you.

“you’re with him!” he continued, his voice colder than the darkest of nights. “you brought him here to kill me.”

your vision blurred, stars flickering at the edges of your sight as you struggled to breathe, struggling to break free from his grip. his power, his rage—it overwhelmed you. your limbs went limp, and the last thing you remembered before darkness swallowed you was the cruel look in his eyes, the man you loved no longer in control of the body he had once inhabited.

obi-wan’s voice was steady, but it trembled with the weight of years of love and friendship—of a bond that was being shattered before his very eyes. he stepped forward, his lightsaber igniting with a soft hum as it bathed the surrounding darkness in its blue glow. “let her go, rafe,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like a plea and a command all at once. “let her go.”

rafe froze for a moment, his powers tightening around your throat. his eyes flickered from you to obi-wan, the anger swirling in his gaze turning into something colder, something more dangerous. “you turned her against me!” his voice cracked, desperation slipping through his words like poison.

obi-wan’s expression hardened, but there was an undeniable sorrow in his eyes. “you have done that yourself,” he said, his words cutting deeper than any blade. he took a step closer, his lightsaber held steady, but his demeanor was not one of attack—it was one of heartbreaking disappointment.

rafe staggered back, his chest heaving as if struggling to comprehend the enormity of obi-wan’s words. “you will not take her from me,” he spat, the words thick with rage, his grip on your throat tightening further.

“you’ve already lost her,” obi-wan replied, his voice heavy with sorrow. “your anger and your lust for power have already done that.”

the words hung between them, thick and suffocating. rafe’s hands twitched, and his eyes narrowed in disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom what he was hearing. obi-wan’s expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes deepened. “you’ve allowed this dark lord to twist your mind,” he said, his voice quiet, almost mournful. “until now. until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

rafe’s face twisted in fury. his grip on your neck tightened, and you gasped for air, vision flickering. he looked at obi-wan as though seeing his former master for the first time—disillusionment and rage warring in his eyes. “i am becoming more powerful than you could ever understand,” he snarled. “this is the future. this is the only way.”

obi-wan took a deep breath, but the heartbreak was evident in the lines of his face. his lightsaber remained steady in his grip, though he hesitated. the moment stretched between them like a chasm that neither could bridge, the final threads of their bond fraying. his voice came again, quieter now, almost a whisper. “you were the chosen one,” he murmured, his eyes clouded with unspeakable grief. “you were supposed to bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness.”

rafe’s expression flickered, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though something—some shred of the man he used to be—flickered behind his eyes. but then, the darkness overtook it, and with a growl of fury, he ignited his own lightsaber. the clash of their weapons was deafening, a blinding flash of light that reflected the violence inside them both.

rafe moved with a speed and power his master had never seen in him before—his strikes were wild, full of rage and desperate need to prove something. obi-wan’s movements, however, were measured, controlled—though each strike, each parry was laced with the sorrow of knowing what was slipping away.

“rafe,” obi-wan whispered, narrowly dodging a strike aimed at his head. “please, listen to me.”

but rafe only grew more erratic, more dangerous. each attack was fueled by his anger, his pain—the feeling of losing you, of losing himself. obi-wan's heart broke with each swing of his saber, each dodge, each moment that he tried to reason with the man who had once been his apprentice.

the lava pit raged behind them, bubbling and churning as if in anticipation of what was to come. obi-wan fought desperately to keep his former apprentice from falling into that abyss—not just physically, but spiritually.

but the anger in rafe’s eyes was beyond reason, beyond compassion. it was a wild thing, uncontrollable and destructive, and it fed into everything he did. with a final, powerful swing, rafe sent him tumbling backwards, his lightsaber flashing, and obi-wan, with a grace borne of years of painful experience, parried the strike.

“rafe,” obi-wan whispered, his voice filled with grief, a lump in his throat. “i loved you.”

the battle was a blur of light and movement, the two combatants circling each other, their sabers flashing in the intense heat of mustafar’s volcanoes. but it was clear that obi-wan was tiring, and rafe was only becoming more vicious, more relentless.

then, with one final strike, obi-wan moved with precision. he ducked under rafe’s wild blow and, with one swift motion, sent him tumbling toward the edge of the molten pit. time seemed to slow as rafe fell, his body twisting in midair, his scream echoing in the cavernous silence before he was consumed by the flames. obi-wan’s heart shattered in that moment. he had lost his brother. he had lost the one he had once hoped would bring balance to the force. he had failed.

“you were the chosen one,” he whispered again, the tears slipping down his face despite himself.

the hum of the ship was the only sound that filled the air as obi-wan piloted through the blackness of space, the stars too distant to offer any comfort. the journey back to the medical center felt endless. his mind raced with the weight of what had just transpired—rafe, gone. the bond he’d once shared with him severed, leaving nothing but pain and an unforgiving silence in its wake. he glanced over at you, still unconscious, your face pale and drawn, your breath shallow as if it were an effort to even draw air into your lungs.

his heart ached, a new, deeper kind of grief taking root within him. he had failed you, failed rafe, and failed himself. there was nothing left but this mission—this final task—to get you to safety. the fate of the galaxy weighed heavily on his shoulders, but in this moment, all that mattered was you.

as they neared the medical center, obi-wan’s grip tightened on the ship’s controls. he landed with a jolt, immediately springing into action as he rushed to carry you inside. the doors slid open, revealing the medical droids awaiting your arrival. they took you from his arms, quickly transferring you to a bed where they began monitoring your vitals. the air was thick with the metallic hum of their mechanical voices.

“medically, she’s completely healthy,” one of the droids reported, its mechanical voice eerily detached. “but we are losing her for reasons we can’t explain.”

obi-wan froze, his chest tightening. “losing her?” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, strained with disbelief.

“she has lost the will to live,” the droid replied, its tone clinical. “it is remarkable. her body functions, but mentally, emotionally, she has abandoned everything.”

obi-wan’s heart stuttered, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “she’s dying?” he asked, the words escaping him in a rush.

“she has given up, master jedi. she seeks peace, and her soul has begun to depart.”

obi-wan stared at you, his eyes wide and filled with unspeakable grief. he had seen death in all its forms before, but this—this was something different. you were alive, but you were gone. you had chosen to retreat from the world, to leave everything behind. his throat tightened, and he had to look away, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

somewhere, deep within you, in the fragile place between life and death, your mind reached for something, a warmth that beckoned you. you could still think, your blood could still flow, your lungs still moved—yet there was nothing left. your heart had stopped long before your body did. it had broken.

what was the point of continuing when the very core of you had shattered? there was no peace in this world anymore, no reason to go on when everything you had fought for felt so fleeting. so, you reached for the light—the peace that called to you, beckoning you like a familiar voice. your body might have stayed behind, but your soul had made its decision.

the sharp, sudden pain broke through your thoughts, making you gasp. you could feel it, sharp and intense—the pull of life, the unbearable weight of it. and then the scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate, as the first of your children entered the world.

obi-wan’s hands shook as he held your son. the small, fragile form, covered in fluid, squirmed in his arms, its cries piercing the sterile air. he looked down at the child with a look of overwhelming sadness and tenderness, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. he thought of rafe, of everything that had been lost, of the galaxy that had slipped into darkness—and now, this child, a new life, a new hope in a world drowning in despair.

he stood there, trembling, as the second child was born—a girl. he took her in his arms as well, gazing down at her with the same awe and sorrow, knowing the weight they would one day bear. you lay there, exhausted, broken, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

through the haze of pain, through the darkness that seemed to be pulling you under, you whispered. “there’s good in him,” it was barely audible. “i know there is—still—”

obi-wan’s heart clenched at the words, his chest tightening with the love you had for the man who had fallen. he looked down at the twins, the hope in your voice echoing in his heart, though it was bittersweet. he believed it, too. somewhere within rafe, there had still been light, still been love. and maybe, just maybe, it would survive within these children.

the monitors beside you beeped erratically, the sound cutting through the quiet. obi-wan turned his gaze to the screen, his heart sinking as he saw the monitor flicker and die. he didn’t need to look again to know. you had passed. but before the life left your body entirely, you bore the gift of new life. the crying of the twins filled the room, and obi-wan stood motionless, cradling them, his eyes full of tears as he watched you—his heart torn between mourning your loss and marveling at the life you had given.

the quiet finality of it settled over him like a heavy weight. the galaxy was no longer the same. the battle for it was far from over, but in that moment, in the silence that followed, he felt the heavy burden of a different kind of loss—the loss of you, the woman he had come to see as a light in a dying world. and as your soul reached for peace, the children you had given birth to would carry on the hope you had always believed in. the cycle would continue, even if the galaxy seemed lost.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

a/n: writing this like the ending was gonna change or sum 😭😭😭 gtfo

[jupiterbusinesssystems]

Logistics Software for Logistics Companies in UAE

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[fearfulfertility]

CLASSIFIED OPERATION SUMMARY

DRC, Planning & Evaluation Office, Logistics & Infrastructure Division

Date Initiated: [REDACTED]

From: Assistant Director [REDACTED], Logistics & Infrastructure Division

To: Director [REDACTED]

Subject: Operation Overdue

Background

Paternity Compound 110 exceeded maximum capacity due to an influx of high-multiparity surrogates and operational delays due to the ongoing [REDACTED] in the Philadelphia metropolitan area. Overcrowding led to strained medical staff and diminished care standards.

Operation Overdue was launched to mitigate these risks. It was a cross-country air transport initiative intended to distribute surrogates to Paternity Compound 133 in Portland, far below occupancy capacity. This initiative required covert execution to avoid public attention and ensure all surrogates reached their destination intact.

Paternity Compound 110 (Philadelphia)

Paternity Compound 110 is an aging and overcrowded facility located in a repurposed commercial structure in Philadelphia. Designed to house a maximum of [REDACTED] surrogates, it currently holds over [REDACTED] (20% over capacity), leading to severe resource strain and cramped conditions. Despite its deteriorating infrastructure, the compound remains operational due to its proximity to a high-fertility urban population, ensuring a steady influx of conscripts.

Paternity Compound 133 (Portland)

Paternity Compound 133 is a modern, state-of-the-art facility in a remote area outside Portland. It is designed to accommodate up to 1,000 surrogates and boasts cutting-edge medical technology and advanced monitoring systems. However, its location in a region with a lower urban population has led to concerns about underutilization, with only a sporadic influx of conscripts to fill its capacity. 

Transport Details

Stage 1: Ground Transfer 

Surrogates were loaded into climate-controlled transport vehicles with hydraulic lifts to accommodate limited mobility.

Vehicles were disguised as commercial cargo containers to minimize civilian interference.

Stage 2: Cross-Country Airlift

[REDACTED] cargo planes were requisitioned from [REDACTED] for the operation. Each aircraft was retrofitted with cushioned flat beds, oxygen units, and onboard medical stations.

Medical personnel monitored surrogates for complications, administering sedatives to those exhibiting distress or restlessness.

“Flying cargo is one thing. Flying this cargo? Another beast entirely. I could hear the medical staff scrambling in the back every time we hit turbulence. It wasn’t until we touched down that I realized how close we came to disaster.” - [REDACTED], Pilot

Stage 3: Arrival & Integration at Compound 133

Surrogates were offloaded and delivered to their assigned wards, where medical personnel assessed their condition.

Immediate hormonal stabilizers were administered to counteract the physical strain caused by altitude changes and prolonged immobility.

Mobility & Transport Constraints

Issue

Many surrogates, especially those late term (+25 days), were unable to walk or sit upright due to the size and weight of their pregnancies. The average weight of surrogates and supporting equipment was over [REDACTED] lbs, +300 lbs average surrogate weight, 489 lbs max weight transported.

Solution

Specialized equipment, such as reinforced stretchers, forklifts for heavier surrogates, and bariatric wheelchairs, was employed to move surrogates from Compound 110 onto the planes. Stretchers were secured in a palletized format inside the aircraft to maximize space.

“The forklift crew had a hell of a time loading the bigger ones. You’d think they were moving industrial machinery, not people. One was so massive they had to be rolled onto the stretcher like a beached whale. It wasn’t pretty.” - Anonymous Ground Technician

Issue

While the standard [REDACTED]-type plane has a cargo capacity of approximately [REDACTED] lbs and an internal volume of [REDACTED] cubic feet, the vehicles needed retrofitting to accommodate the unique needs of heavily pregnant surrogates. This included safety measures for turbulence and environmental controls to maintain appropriate temperature and pressure levels.

Solution

The [REDACTED]-class plane could transport [REDACTED] surrogates per flight with DRC modifications. 

Planes were equipped with mobile dividers so that if surrogates suffered complications, they could be rapidly isolated from view for treatment or birth. Climate control systems were enhanced to maintain a stable environment and portable restroom facilities were added for staff use (surrogates were catheterized to avoid the need for movement).

“They told me this was for my own good, but I can barely breathe in here. Every bump in the air made it feel like my belly was going to burst. I just want this to end—I don’t care where we’re going.” - Surrogate S110-523-Q

Key Incidents

Mid-Transport Medical Emergency

During the flight, Surrogate S110-399-Q, pregnant with septendecuplets (17), began exhibiting severe respiratory distress. Initial symptoms included difficulty breathing, chest tightness, and visible [REDACTED]. Onboard medical personnel swiftly administered oxygen and sedatives to stabilize, but within minutes, signs of early labor emerged, prompting the emergency medical team to prepare for an in-flight delivery.

The medical team worked tirelessly to assist the surrogate as he delivered all 17 fetuses before arrival in Portland. Each newborn was immediately evaluated for viability and determined to be stable. As expected, the surrogate's vital signs rapidly declined following the final birth, and he succumbed to [REDACTED] failure. 

"I’ve never seen anyone that big in my life. I couldn’t stop staring. His belly was so massive it looked like it was about to split open. When he started struggling to breathe, the medical staff was all over him, but the sounds he made… it was like he was suffocating under his own weight..." - Surrogate S110-403-I, Observed Situation

Public Visibility Concerns

Several bystanders filmed the convoy and uploaded clips online during the ground transfer stage. DRC Cyber Security immediately intervened, scrubbing social media platforms and issuing cease-and-desist orders to content creators.

Surrogate Stuck in Chair

One surrogate, pregnant with octodecuplets (18), experienced significant growth during the flight, reportedly due to hormonal surges and fluid retention. Upon landing, the crew discovered that the surrogate had become physically wedged in his reinforced seat due to his expanded abdomen and swollen extremities. Extraction required the partial disassembly of the seat and the use of specialized equipment to free him. 

“I wasn’t even surprised anymore. His belly was literally spilling over the armrests. That’s when you realize these missions aren’t just logistical—they’re borderline impossible.” - Anonymous Transport Specialist

Behavioral Issues

Three surrogates attempted to resist boarding at Paternity Compound 110, citing fears about the unknown destination and poor treatment. They were sedated on-site and securely transported.

Post-Operation Notes

Total Surrogates Transported: [REDACTED]

Surrogates Expired En Route: [REDACTED]

Fetuses Delivered During Operation: [REDACTED]

While operational challenges were anticipated, the results align with DRC efficiency standards. The use of modified cargo planes and specialized medical protocols ensured the safe delivery of most surrogates despite several complications during transit.

Additional safeguards are required to manage the physical strain of long-term pregnancy during extended transport. Enhancing hormonal regulation pre-flight may mitigate extreme growth events.

Stronger sedation measures, particularly during boarding, will reduce incidents of resistance and streamline pre-departure logistics.

Transport plans must minimize exposure to the public. Future operations should prioritize routes and timing to limit interaction with civilian populations.

Conclusion

Operation Overdue underscores the complexities of large-scale surrogate relocation efforts and demonstrates the DRC’s capacity to execute such operations precisely and adaptively. Lessons learned during this mission will inform future strategies, ensuring the continued success of critical population sustainability initiatives.

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

Click Here to return to DRC Report Archives

[lonestarflight]

Launch of STS-131 Discovery

Liftoff of Space Shuttle Discovery from Launch Pad 39A at NASA's Kennedy Space Center in Florida was at 6:21 a.m. (EDT) on the STS-131 mission.

Date: April 5, 2010

"Onboard are NASA astronauts Alan Poindexter, commander; James P. Dutton Jr., pilot; Rick Mastracchio, Dorothy Metcalf-Lindenburger, Stephanie Wilson and Clayton Anderson; along with Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA) astronaut Naoko Yamazaki, all mission specialists. The seven-member crew will deliver the multi-purpose logistics module Leonardo, filled with supplies, a new crew sleeping quarters and science racks that will be transferred to the International Space Station's laboratories. The crew also will switch out a gyroscope on the station's truss structure, install a spare ammonia storage tank and retrieve a Japanese experiment from the station's exterior. STS-131 is the 33rd shuttle mission to the station and the 131st shuttle mission overall."

"The STS-131/19A crew patch highlights the Space Shuttle in the Rendezvous Pitch Maneuver (RPM). This maneuver is heavily photographed by the International Space Station (ISS) astronauts, and the photos are analyzed back on earth to clear the Space Shuttle's thermal protection system for re-entry. The RPM illustrates the teamwork and safety process behind each Space Shuttle launch. In the Space Shuttle's cargo bay is the Multi-Purpose Logistics Module (MPLM), Leonardo, which is carrying several science racks, the last of the four crew quarters, and supplies for the ISS. Out of view and directly behind the MPLM, is the Ammonia Tank Assembly (ATA) that will be used to replace the current ATA. This will take place during three Extra Vehicular Activities (EVAs). The 51.6° Space Shuttle orbit is illustrated by the three gold bars of the astronaut symbol, and its elliptical wreath contains the orbit of the ISS. The star atop the astronaut symbol is the dawning sun, which is spreading its early light across the Earth. The background star field contains seven stars, one for each crewmember; they are proud to represent the United States and Japan during this mission."

source

NASA ID: KSC-310D-0338

[jtl07]

For Martial Arts week:

Beatrice

Sci-fi

"she could take these odds"

(I love you)

AN: ohshit hi! wow, omggggg! wow so awesome to see you here, your art is amazing! 🤩 thanks so much for supporting and playing, this was a great chance to try writing a melee scene, which i've never done before so uh hope it doesn't suck too bad 🙃 

"Beatrice, no -" Camila's voice rises higher, frantic in the comm in Beatrice's ear. "That's a whole platoon out there. Lilith and her squad are just just five minutes away -"

"Five minutes is too long." Beatrice grimly takes stock of her tools, her weapons; sets her jaw at how little she's carrying. Straightens with a wince, shrugs away the pain in her side, in her knee. Says the only truth that matters: "Ava needs me now." 

Pauses when she hears Camila take an uncharacteristically long breath. 

"Are you sure? Because she's the one who tried to leave you behind -" 

"I'm sure." The chill in Beatrice's voice is palpable even through the comms link. She lightens slightly, for Camila's sake. "I'll be all right." Straightens and allows herself the barest hint of a smirk. "Tell Lilith she owes me for being late. Again." 

"Bea-"

A quick flick turns the comms off. A quick sprint down the corridor gets her to the entrance to the cargo bay. She breathes in deep. Beyond the doors is the platoon in question. And beyond them is Ava. 

Ava, who Beatrice had known had concocted some kind of secret plan that ran counter to their official mission; a plan that had gone to hell in a handbasket when the Halo implant in Ava's back had suffered some kind of malfunction when she'd tried to fly away. Ava, who'd gone eerily, terrifyingly silent as she fell. Who Beatrice hadn't been able to get to in time before a swarm of the Pope's soldiers had taken her away. 

But Beatrice had managed to follow their messy trail nearly halfway across the solar system to this outpost, to this cargo bay. She wasn't about to give up now. 

Beatrice doesn't bother hiding when the doors slide open, drawing the attention of everyone in the space. As Camila had warned her, a full platoon of the Pope's best soldiers stand in wait. 

Counts nearly fifty in total. Breathes in; out. She could take these odds. 

Steps into fully into the space and nods grimly to herself. 

She will. 

Beatrice lets her voice ring out through the cargo bay. "You all stand between me and Ava. I offer mercy to whoever walks away now."

The response she receives is a blaster bolt that she simply tilts her head to avoid. "Never say I didn't warn you," she murmurs as she unfurls her sparking staff. 

A yell rises up among the solders. Beatrice quickly scans the space, shifts to position herself between two hulking storage containers to funnel them in and slow down their advance. It lets her focus on a handful of them at a time - she cuts through the first in line with lethal, electrified arcs. Her body moves instinctively, de-arming and de-limbing and beheading with every sweep of her staff.

While she fights, a part of her mind stays aware, sweeping, searching. Out of the corner of her eye, a suspicious movement in the distance sparks an internal alarm.

Without losing her rhythm, Beatrice switches her staff to one hand, maintaining a dangerous circle around her as she takes up a blaster with her other hand. Finds her chance when a soldier gets too close: she pierces him through the chest with her staff and hooks him in, ignores his gurgling, gasping final breaths while she uses him as both a shield and a shooting rest. Picks off the squad of soldiers manning the missile launcher before they can even finish setting up. 

She's squeezing out one final shot when she spots a transport behind them being hastily readied for takeoff. Knows in her gut that Ava's on that ship. 

Beatrice lets the reins go on her speed, on her instincts. The soldiers seem to catch on to her intent and immediately, frustratingly pile in to block her way towards the now humming transport ship. One manages to surprise her with a tackle and it nearly takes Beatrice off her feet. She's forced back several steps before she manages to dig her heels in, drops a heavy elbow down on his head. It's hard enough that it cracks the soldier's helmet. Beatrice takes advantage of his teetering balancing to flip him over her shoulder and throws him bodily into several of his compatriots. 

Her head snaps up when she hears the whine of the ship's engine. Desperation takes over - she headbutts the next soldier she sees, slices through his knee. Jumps onto the soldier's back when he bends over screaming - launches herself into the air, somersaulting over the back line. 

Lands on her feet with the ship now hovering several yards away. Ava, her mind screams as she tucks away her staff and sprints with all she has. 

But as fast as Beatrice is, she's not as fast a transport ship. Still, she pushes herself as hard as she can, ignores the fact that the edge of the launchpad is quickly approaching. Focuses on the door of the ship. The handle. Almost there.

Almost there.

Almost -

She leaps. Yells as she stretches out with all she has. 

Misses. 

Feels her heart plummet as gravity takes over, unforgiving and inevitable. 

But before she can even start to pray, her downward arc is abruptly interrupted by a heavy weight slamming into hers. 

Stars erupt behind Beatrice's eyes when she crashes onto the ground, rolling several times before skidding to a stop, face down. Her lungs and her legs scream from exertion but she still pushes herself to her feet. Blinks through the sudden dizziness to track the ship. 

Lilith appears beside her, eyes wild, face red and sweaty. "Goddammit, Beatrice, of all the reckless -" 

Beatrice ignores her and flicks on the comm in her ear, her gaze never leaving the ship pulling further away; feels her heart tearing apart with the increasing distance. "Cam, do you have them?" 

A harried voice answers. "I'm working on it -"

Beatrice eyes the telltale signs of the hyperdrive engaging. "Cam."

"- almost got it -" 

"Camila."

Then, barely a second before the ship disappears into hyperspace, she sees it: the blinking light of the tracker activating.

Relief floods through Beatrice at the same time Camila crows triumphantly in her ear. "Got it! Tracker is engaged, location is locked on. Holy shit, Bea, I don't know how you did it -"

Beatrice tunes her out - less by choice and more by the adrenaline crash that has her stumbling backwards. 

Feels hands she knows steady her. "You're insane, you know that?" Lilith's words are gruff but there's a grudging admiration in her voice. 

Beatrice lets herself lean on her, lets herself breathe. Takes in the pile of bodies littering the ground.

Thinks about how Ava would be proud. Thinks about how much she wants Ava back in her arms. 

Hold on, Ava, Beatrice thinks as her eyes fall closed. Promises: I'm coming.

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| You're A Weapon; And Weapons Don't Weep ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After Bucky discovers that your once thought to be dead older brother is HYDRA's new super soldier, you're chosen to go on a mission with the team.

Warnings: **PLEASE READ** This fic contains death. If the idea of unaliving someone can possibly trigger you, please do NOT read this. Anxiety attack, cursing, angst, random sprinkles of fluff, use of y/n.

Word Count: 4.7

A/Ns: It has been way too long, but I finally got to write for my BBWWS again. I have a feeling there won't be too many chapters left for Bucky and his Sunshine. But I have been working on other ideas and another series is in the process. I hope you enjoy reading. I love you all! The messages, comments, reblogs, likes, etc. literally give me life and inspired me to come back and get into writing all over again. Enjoy your weekend, besties!!

Previous Part // Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Any shred of hope that life would be returning back to normalcy remotely anytime soon got washed away by the tidal wave that was the news of your brother being the new super soldier for Hydra.

Tony and Steve called for intel meetings that basically became a fulltime job. At first it felt like an interrogation. They questioned you, curious as to why you would apply for an internship at The Compound. While the circumstances did seem suspicious, they eventually were able to rule out any foul play on your part.

The gatherings soon turned into wanting to know every intricate detail that they wouldn't be able to look up or hack out of any system. From dawn to dusk, the two men asked about your childhood together- trying to connect the pieces as to who Luke is, or was. Bucky stayed silently by your side the entire time and offered a stabilizing hand when things got overwhelming to discuss. But it also didn't slip by you that he focused on each and every detail, noting the intel for this mission.

After being able to specify things so minute; such as your brothers favorite books, favorite teacher from grade school, or the fact that he likes the color green- but not just any green, Sacramento green, because it reminded him of the vines that grew around the windows of your grandparents cottage that you would spend the majority of your summer's at as kids, you also got chosen to go on this mission. There was some minor pushback from the team, but ultimately Bucky took responsibility for you. You knew that he would keep you safe, even if it meant putting the part of his very soul that he felt remained on the line for you.

To say that the training was brutal would be an understatement. While the others had an entire lifetime to perfect their craft and years working alongside one another in unity, you had only a matter of weeks. You were thrown into a constant rotation of being educated on the newest technologies developed by Tony, boxing and going over endless tactical strategies with Steve, knowledge of weaponry with a hint of ballet to stay light on your feet with Nat... pure exhaustion wouldn't begin to describe it.

The day came when intel showed the Swiss Alps would be first on the mission log. Everyone was treating it like just any other, but the dreaded encounter was weighing down heavily deep within your stomach. The thought of using yourself as bait to lure out your brother spiraled into the millions of anxious outcomes that kept you up at night. Finally giving you just the smallest glimpse into Bucky's world. The doorway was creaked open to his nightmares.

"Wooow. You look like a Bad. Ass." Sam annunciates amusingly, as his eyes land on you walking up the small rear cargo ramp of the jet.

Your cheeks instantly blush, having already been self-conscious about the skintight, black Kevlar suit Nat gave you to wear. As more footsteps approach, you sink more into your seat and try to avoid any more eye contact.

"Just so you know, I heard that." Bucky's voice rebounds off of the metal walls before he even makes his way completely into the jet. "Don't try and make passes at my girl when I'm not aro-"

You don't need to look up to know that those steel blue eyes have frozen you into place, but you dare a glance. He's dressed in all black; Black boots, black tactical pants, a black leather jacket with the left sleeve torn off- showing his gunmetal and gold Vibranium arm, and a black glove on his right hand. The sight of him is intimidating, ready for combat and anything to be thrown his way. But those eyes. They hold a tenderness meant only for you. His magnetizing stare mixed with the wonderment expression on his face confirms his friends words and more. Okay, so maybe the suit isn't so bad.

"You're gawking." Sam is now at Bucky's side, smirking with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

Bucky's face slides back into its usual consternation state before giving him a side glare. "Shut up." Sam shakes his head, laughing to himself lightly before making his way to the front of the jet.

You move to sit upright as he approaches, and Bucky's face finally softens. It always does when it's just the two of you. He reaches above where you're sitting to an overhead rack, casually leaning. Hovering like one of those seductive book boyfriends you'd swoon over, but for him it just comes naturally. Swallowing hard, you angle your head up to look at him. You find a slightly playful grin tugging at his lips and you crack a faint smile.

"You doing okay, Sunshine?" His voice is soft but concerned. A gloved thumb caresses down your cheek. The doting gesture entrances you to gently nuzzle into his palm.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

He reflects on this a moment, his eyes searching yours. But he looks slightly blurry. The background noise is starting to become overwhelming. Numerous voices all start to overlap, the jet engines growing louder as they're warming up, the loud bang with each shipment container with weapons being loaded on board- weapons intended for my brother. It all combines into one long dragged-out, high-pitched ringing sound and your throat closing in on itself. Bucky senses this, notices and quickly acts. Wide eyed, he drops to his knees.

"Hey... Hey, y/n. It's okay." He quickly unfastens the harness from your seat. "Deep breaths." You can't help but notice how calm he sounds. "Hey...look at me." Bucky gently cups each side of your face, the intense coolness on the one side being a welcomed shock. Your eyes meet his, and when they do, all you see is his devotion. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here with you."

"I know you are." You mutter, pressing your forehead to his as you try to manage your breathing to match his.

"We'll find him." He breathes. "I made it out, he can too. I won't let anything happen to you while we’re out there, y/n." The urgency that his tone is trying to convey is heart wrenching.

"I know, Bucky."

"Here-" He pulls away for a moment to take a bag off his back. Unzipping it, he pulls out a water bottle. "Drink some water."

You smile internally at the gesture. As he's unscrewing the cap, you notice a novel in the bag. It's one he borrowed from you when you first met. There's a familiar stinging behind your eyes. What did I do to deserve this man? One who is willing to walk back into his version of hell to pull out someone that I love?

Sipping on the water of course helped, but Bucky tucking you securely into his side for takeoff is what kept the overwhelming anxiety at bay.

“I love you, so much.” You say against his chest, in appreciation. He snorts slightly, pressing a delicate kiss into your hair.

“And I love you, Sunshine.” Bucky adjusts his hips slightly. “Get some rest, we have a long flight.” Intricate fingers brush through your hair, eventually lulling you to sleep in the safe space that is your boyfriend’s lap.

Distant muttering started reeling you back from a dreamless sleep. Instinctively, you reach for Bucky whom you thought you were still sleeping on- only to find he had replaced it with his bag. The disappointment was starting to settle in when you hear his voice:

“I know how this can come across, but she’s strong enough. She’ll be able to handle it, Tony. I’m here, I can-“

“All I’m hearing is I, I, I, me, me, me, Barnes. You, my friend, were an exception. I don’t know if we can go in there and get this guy out alive, and even if we can, who knows what the aftermath is going to look like! For either of them! We’re taking a regular, a nobody off the street and putting a lot of pressure on her to do this. She’s already starting to feel it, that much is obvious. I’ve said from the beginning that this is a huge mistake. I understand your feelings here, from both sides. You want to make sure HYDRA doesn’t continue to pop up like daises and be there for the love of your life. I GET it. But this is a mistake.”

It’s apparent that Stark has walked away with the clinking of his heavy metal footsteps.

“You picked a good one, Buck. I have faith in her too.” There’s a small reassuring pat to coincide with Steve’s voice. “Y/n’s one of us now.”

“Thanks, Steve. I just… I have to save him. For her.” You can hear the exasperation in Bucky’s voice.

While tears sting from multiple emotions behind closed eyes still pretending to sleep, you feel overcome with something you haven’t experienced in this situation yet; determination. A sudden tenacity to prove the doubters that you can do this, that you can help your brother just how Bucky had, and that you wouldn’t bail and have a breakdown… again. No. From this point on, you refuse to let anyone see you as weak.

The bag underneath your head gently shifts and is quickly replaced with warm body heat that you quickly snuggle into. That warmth spreads as Bucky wraps his right arm around your body, pulling you in a little closer. His heart rate starts to slow, and his breathing becomes more regular. You just soak in the last moments before the unknown.

“He’s really going to just jump out the back of the jet like that?!” You try to yell, over the loud wind rumbling and your hair whipping around.

With Sam’s back facing towards you, he takes one absentminded step off of the opened ramp and is just gone. Your stomach drops along with him at the sight.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he hands you an earpiece, “Yep,” A second later, Sam comes back into view, now soaring with his Falcon wings. He gives Bucky a little sarcastic two finger salute and flies out of view. “He’s flashy like that.”

Putting the impossibly small earpiece into your ear, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. It must be an almost forgotten sound with the weight of everything going on because now Bucky is smiling too.

“Well, I hope you’re not expecting me to jump out of a plane,” you say only half joking. Because if that’s the case, he’s going to have to literally throw you out.

“What did you think the parachutes were for?” Bucky asks deadpan, with a raised eyebrow and pointing to the packs behind him.

All of the color starts to drain from your face, when suddenly you saw the slightest twitch in Bucky’s lip.

“Oh my god. You asshole!” Bucky grabs his stomach and starts to hunch over laughing as you hit him in the arm. His metal arm. “OW!” You start shaking your hand out to wave away the initial sting.

Glancing at him, Bucky is doubled over, nose scrunched, laughing so hard that barely any noise is coming out and tears are welling up in his eyes. It’s contagious, especially as the throb in your hand turns into a dull ache.

I’ve missed this. Things being simple with us and not so draining. Moments that resemble a drop of normalcy in a typical ‘would be’ relationship. But I still wouldn’t trade it. Because he’s perfect. And he’s mine.

Once your lungs don’t feel like they’re on fire any longer, you let you a deep sigh, resting your hands on your hips. “God, I needed that.”

“Did you really think I would toss you out of a Quinjet?”

“Seemed like it in the moment-”

“Alright, love birds,” Tony interrupts, the heavy metal footsteps of his Iron Man armor catching both of your attention, "don't be late to the party," he says knowingly, palms glowing before he too disappears out of the jet.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Bucky says, now standing next to you, “I have my own flashy transport,” he side eyes you with a playful grin.

Arms wrapped tightly around Bucky’s stomach; you can’t help but snuggle your cheek into his leather covered shoulder.

Of course, Bucky’s idea of flashy would be a motorcycle.

Your eyes flutter open to see Steve on his own come into view through whips of your hair. The boys. Two best friends riding like they don’t have the weight of the world constantly on their shoulders.

Steve’s bike has a bulky, all chrome classic look while Bucky’s is a modern, all black crotch rocket. Both have been modified to drive relatively quietly, and it’s such a weird dichotomy to still be able to feel the rumbling of the bike between your legs without all the noise.

One of your hands releases the clasp they had on one another, pressing your palm against Bucky’s chest- smoothing itself along his abdomen. Bucky sits more upright in his seat to press back into you more, using only his left hand to steer as his right encloses around yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. The gesture is so minor, and yet you can just feel how he puts his heart into everything when it comes to you.

"We're going to pull off to the side up on the left. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot," Steve's voice is solemn in your earpiece.

Bucky gives him a nod in acknowledgement, leaning back down to better control the motorcycle. This time, his hand doesn't leave yours.

The trek through the Switzerland forest was less than a mile, but with each step your feet grew heavier and that sour stomach of yours returned with the dread of seeing your brother again. If he could even be considered your brother anymore. Who knows what actually remained. As much as you have begged and pleaded with the universe to make yet another exception for Lucas just as it had for Bucky, you were terrified of the man that you would soon encounter.

Just shy of coming out of the tree line to the supposed to be abandoned old military base, you hear a series of echoing pops- stopping all three of you dead in your tracks.

Gunshots.

Bucky and Steve exchange a quick, wide-eyed glance at one another, “Go, we’ll catch up.” Bucky says, and within the blink of an eye, Steve takes off running at super soldier speed.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Bucky turned to face you, his shoulders squared, lips in a tight thin line. But looking between your eyes, he loosens a breath, gripping your shoulders, “Listen to me, Sunshine,” he makes every attempt to soften his voice, but a few more pops and yelling sound off in the distance making you wince. His hands grip you tighter, “I need you to focus. What I’m about to say goes against everything I normally believe, but in this circumstance it’s critical…” he sighs, looking down before back into your eyes- trying to convey the seriousness of what he’s saying, “you have to push the fear down. And I know how that sounds, but you can’t walk in there with that look on your face. Because honey, these people will not hesitate to kill you.”

You gasp lightly at the graveness of his words. It’s not like you didn’t know this walking into the mission, but it’s different once you’re actually here.

Bucky sighs again, his expression softening as his hands cup each side of your face especially gentle, “I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave your side,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “I just… I can’t lose you.” His voice cracks slightly, even at just the thought.

Even with your eyes teetering with the threat of tears, you nod in understanding. Placing each of your hands over his, you press your lips to Bucky’s- holding them there, accepting that the moment they pull apart it’s no longer about the two of you, but about the mission. Luke is your mission.

“I love you,” you murmur, before opening your eyes to see deep consternation in his.

Disassociation is a powerful coping mechanism for human beings. It can feel like an outer body experience or even a dream. More like a nightmare. But as you follow into the bunker where the screaming leads, closely behind Bucky with your gun drawn watching for any sudden movements and stepping over the trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway, you're thankful for the part of your brain trying to convince you that this isn't real.

"Still no sign of Castle," Sam's voice was pragmatic in your earpiece.

Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you while still walking, "Maybe he's not here after-" and that's when you see the slightest shift of a shadow in an inverted doorway.

It was so small that in any other instance you would just assume your eyes were just playing a trick on you. But not here. Your body reacted before your mind could even fully register- taking a sudden step to the side, you fired off two prompt shots. A heavy thud followed.

Practically giving himself whiplash, Bucky looks at where you shot and back to you. His eyes widen, mouth open slightly at the realization of what just happened. What you just did- for him. Your eyes haven't moved from that doorway, and your grip is tighter on the gun than it probably should be. Pain surges through your jaw with how tightly your teeth are clenched and yet, you wait to see if anyone else is there. Is there another shadow lurking just waiting for the opportunity to harm one of you?

"Y/n..." Bucky's voice is delicate as his eyes dart around, also looking for shadows, "we have to keep moving," he says in a coaxing manner.

I can’t. The words blare in your mind like a doomsday siren and yet you can’t speak. All you can do is focus on that that dark corner where the pool of crimson continues to grow.

Bucky steps in line of your gun with somber eyes meeting yours, causing you to simultaneously point it towards the ground and break your trance. You didn’t realize just how high and how tight your shoulders had been as you loosened your breath. A new version of you being transformed as you exhale.

“I-” You try catching your breath, completely slack jaw and shaking your head just trying to comprehend what you did. “I…I just-” and the tears are flowing. No crying, no uncontrollable sobbing, but a small steady line of tears as the overwhelming awareness of taking control and trading a life for someone that you love comes to light… just flows.

“You did what you had to,” he answers for you, nodding sympathetically. You don’t deserve kindness right now, do you? But that is why he is good. And that is why he deserves to live.

“We have to go, y/n.” Bucky says, looking over your shoulders and behind himself again. “It looks like no one else has been down here yet.” He grabs your hand, not waiting for a response before he’s treading down the hallway again.

Your feet shuffle instinctively at first to follow him, but the brightness of the flickering fluorescent lights quickly grounded you to where you actually are. There are lives at stake and you need to keep your head.

The distant noise of constant struggle seemed to almost completely stop. Every few minutes you would hear a familiar voice say 'clear' in your ear and relief would wash over you, just thankful for knowing that they were alive.

It got cold the further you went, meaning you probably had gradually descended underground. Finally, at the end of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel, was a large set of metal double doors with multiple large chains and padlocks.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance with one another before he fists the chain with his Vibranium hand, pulling effortlessly as they break into pieces. He pushes open the doors to reveal a large, primarily empty room aside from a bunch of dusty, bulky outdated computers. Most of the overhead lights don’t work, so it seems darker in here than it did in the corridor.

Bucky steps into the room and starts looking around, his boots crunching noisily on worn rubble and glass. You hold your breath, watching as his fingers skim along the keyboards, his eyes squinting at the monitors as he passes each one as though looking for something.

And then he stops at one in particular. He eyes it carefully before looking up at the ceiling to the lights again.

“What is it?” You can’t hide your curiosity.

“There’s still power to this base,” he says observantly, turning his attention back towards the computer. “Maybe…” he mumbles to himself, leaning over the monitor a bit, his fingers blindly searching before pressing the power button. Bucky stands back as the screen comes to life, but his eyes widen, alarmed as to what he sees.

“Bucky?” You ask apprehensively, moving to stand next to him and also look at the screen. It's mostly black, but there's a green contour of... a face?

"Hello Sergeant Barnes," the computer says with a German accent.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Bucky steps back, his hands fisting into his hair.

The voice chuckles, "Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

“Is… the computer talking? To you?”

“Why, yes, Ms. Castle. I am,” your stomach turns over at the sound of the voice addressing you as well.

“What the fu-” you go to repeat Bucky’s words but get cut off.

“Does the facility seem… familiar, Barnes?” Zola asks, condescendingly. “Or, at the very least, the machinery?”

Bucky's eyes start to dart around the room, taking in the different equipment before muttering to himself in dismay, "these control the cyro chambers..."

The computer laughs menacingly, "Ah, so you do remember. Good! Good..."

Rolling his arm once while taking a large step forward, Bucky brings it down, crushing the computer completely. Exposed wires spark briefly from the powerful impact, otherwise leaving the room in silence.

“What- who was that?”

“Arnim Zola. A scientist for HYDRA. The one who, well…” Bucky passively gestures to himself, “experimented and is responsible for me.”

Suddenly, another one of the numerous screens comes to life- the digitized green face grinning, “tsk, tsk. Oh, Soldat…”

“I won’t answer to that anymore,” Bucky maintained through gritted teeth, raising his arm to disintegrate this talking monitor as well just as it says:

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Just then, you hear quick, trudged steps. The only warning you had before been picked up, as easily as a pillow and aggressively, carelessly thrown aside into a metal desk, knocking some of the computers that sat on top along with you.

You tried gasping for the air that was stolen from your lungs on impact with the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, it burned, more than the pain creeping around the left side of your ribs as you sluggishly moved to sit on your knees. Looking up, you meet the threatening gaze of the one who attacked you.

He was exceptionally tall, especially from your view on the floor. Lean, but had an athletic build and strong. Super strong. He was dressed in all black tactical gear, the only color being a large red Soviet star in the center of his chest. A black mask covered all but his eyes, keeping him faceless. He was pale, as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in years and had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

But those eyes. They cemented you to the floor- glaring, daring you to move or even breathe. Just the look that he conveyed felt like you were in the presence of death itself. As you were able to take your first small breath, your lips parted, and eyes narrowed as they locked into his deadly gaze. There was such a darkness glazed over the emerald irises, but you'd recognize them anywhere.

"Luke..." you exhale, painfully. Both physically and emotionally.

His brow twitches slightly at you saying his name, like his mind is trying to recollect it from a long-forgotten dream. As his body turns to face you, he suddenly gets shoved back a few feet, "Back off, Castle." Bucky warns sternly, stepping between you and your brother.

Gripping the desk, you use it to hoist yourself up, whining slightly and grabbing at your left side realizing that you most likely have some broken ribs. The sound of your pain distracted Bucky for one second, and Luke took that opportunity to lunge forward and kick him high in the chest. With a breathless grunt, Bucky barrels backwards into you, knocking your back flush against the wall.

Luke was there in the blink of an eye, grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket. The two of them quickly became a tangle of throwing fists and kicks, breaking apart to find anything around to throw at one another. Overturning desks, throwing chairs, Bucky even chucked a still laughing Zola computer at Luke.

While you never thought the two most important men in your life would ever have the chance to meet, this is not the way you would have ever imagined it.

With your back still flat against the wall, you slide down to sit on the floor, starting to feel dizzy. Maybe it was the overwhelmingness of the situation, but instinctively you bring your hand to the back of your head, and it feels... wet. Looking at your fingers, they're now coated with fresh, warm crimson blood. It's getting harder to think straight with the tunneling vision, but you realize that you hit your head against the wall from the collision of bodies.

"Please..." you choke out a sob, "please, stop," you beg. But they can't hear you over their own heated screams and grunts as they continue to fight one another. Your narrowing vision focuses on Bucky, seeing that he is fighting more defensively- actively trying to avoid hurting Luke, pulling his punches where he can. Tears burn behind your eyes at the sight, knowing that if this were anyone else, it would already be over.

"Luke!" Bucky yells and quickly dodges to the side, avoiding the knife now sticking out of the wall that Luke threw at him. "Your sister came here to get you back! She's here for you. We're here for you!" Bucky maintained his distance, mirroring Luke's movement's trying to rely on his words rather than fists. They're pacing, waiting for the other to make a move.

The ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and as much as you tried to fight it, sweat started to bead up on your skin. You were losing consciousness, and fast.

"Bucky," you breathe out. His body tenses as he looks over at you, eyes wide. He jumps over one of the only remaining desks in the room and kneels down, hands hovering over body briefly, afraid to touch you.

"Okay... okay," he mutters to himself, scanning you over, his eyes linger on your hand with the now drying blood on them. Bucky gently cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over it as he forces a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Sunshine. I-I'm going to get you outta here and get some help, okay?" His voice sounds shaky as his chest heaves, "Sam? I need a med evac for y/n,"

You nod once, or at least you think you do, as you continue to focus on Bucky. Everything around him starts to fade into a deeper black void. The last thing you see is Luke step into view over Bucky's shoulder to look down at you. At some point during their altercation, his mask had been ripped off. His lips were pressed into a thin line as his teeth clenched and remained expressionless while Bucky continued to stroke your hair and try to speak calm, reassuring words of how he would make sure you would be okay as you slipped under the surface of complete darkness.

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr @skulliecadaver-blog

[malewife-overlord]

SCL:C

Part IX: The Tears of the Broken

chapter summary: Shockwave enacts his plan to return to metal and take over Cybertron. The time for action is now.

trigger warnings: violence, robogore, body horror, trauma, death, a LOT of tentacles.

prior chapter here. next chapter is here.

word count: 7932

chapter below cut!

For a procedure as important as breaking the twins apart and harvesting the energy of their bond, the tools used upon them both were surprisingly asinine. It had never occurred to Luster just what kind of atrocities could and would be committed with ordinary objects, things which held no greater significance in his mind than their innocuous one time use. Yet here he was, witnessing the ordinary becoming the deadly. 

Shockwave had tied him down, cut open his chassis and spark chamber, and bared the flickering light of his spark to the world. Then he’d attached cables to it that seemed no different from ordinary jumper cables, connecting them to the machine which Spark Storm was presently contained in.

Shockwave tapped a few inputs into its monitor, then loaded his servos into two holes on the sides of it, taking control of several tools within. Luster watched as the machine’s inner parts came alive, using thin metal claws to pluck the dual sparks from their open chamber before enclosing them in a new one. Sharp tools pierced the warm glass, poking into what should have been a den of safety, designed to keep its sacred cargo safe. 

Useless. Stop watching and act. Stop being weak and fight. 

Solace, in his head. He sounded angrier than ever. And he had a point–if Luster didn’t act soon, he’d fry. 

He’d strained his bonds, failed to even shake them, and instead tried to move his tentacles. They wriggled this way and that, wrestling with those from the floor. In response, more of Shockwave’s limbs poked out from the floor, tearing up the grating and wrapping even tighter around him. 

He sent a pulse of electricity through them, only to find that for each one he knocked down, two took its place. In no time at all, he’d exhaust his reserves of charge.

He couldn’t move. All he could do was watch. Oracelle’s stupid face taunted him with its lack of emotion.

‘I can’t move.’ He said to Solace, and the words made him want to cry with frustration. ‘I can’t fight. I’m sorry.’

You can. You hold yourself back, even in the face of death. You cannot die here. You must reach the surface. 

‘I can’t,’ he said again, silently. ‘What can I even do?’

There was no one he could call for help, no one besides the voice in his head. And Solace didn’t exist outside of his head as far as he knew. Primus, chasing just a voice in his head and a feeling in his spark, he’d gotten himself into a mess as bad as this. 

Did Solace even exist, if he only persisted in his head? He had to.

Stop questioning things. You are a Sparkeater. You are naturally equipped to eliminate Cybertronians. Even your shriek is enough to paralyze. 

Shockwave had already thought of that. Tentacles had clogged his throat, wrapped around it so tightly his vents had had to divert their influx through other ports. He couldn’t get enough air in his system to shriek even if he wanted to. 

‘I can’t shriek.‘He’s already thought of all that–slag! Why did I let him study me?! He’s probably prepared for everything I could do to him!” 

No. There is something you can still perform he could not prepare for, even if he tried. 

‘There is? What?’

You’ve used it before. Do so again. 

The spark Shockwave was operating on suddenly began to glow brighter. Its edges became jagged. As Luster watched its color began to change from white to blue and red. Electricity like veins crackled out from its centers. They met in the middle, where a link of the veins lingered, held, and fought like strained cables. 

Oracelle’s face expressed a small smile. “There you are.”

Luster tensed at the sight, knowing his death was fast approaching. 

‘Solace. Tell me what to do. You speak like you know the way out. Guide me, please. I’ll do whatever you want.’

What you need is already within you.

‘That’s not helpful!’

Is it, really? Ask yourself what you haven’t tried. Did you ever stop to think about how you escaped Autobot City? How you woke up from programmed death on a surgical slab? What let you do so?

Autobot City. The surgical slab. The island. It was all a blur in his head. What did he remember?

Hunger. Hunger and urges. Hunger, sparkbeats, the scent of fear, the blurry movement of prey running for its life, the surge of life pulsing through him, waking him up from the madness that had taken him. 

The madness. That was it. The madness, driven by hunger, need, the eternal humming. When it had pulsed so strongly through him, he’d thrown aside all of his morals, all of his logic. With their loss came a power like nothing else–the power of a monster. And what had awakened it was–

The humming. The humming, ever present in his head. The humming that had grown louder and louder and louder the closer he’d gotten to Cybertron. 

The humming which grew quiet when Solace spoke. The voice of Solace, which had only manifested when he’d arrived on Cybertron. The humming, which, barely a week ago, he’d given shape and observed, observing a crescent moon. 

A crescent moon. 

It hit him then, so strongly that the momentary horror of his rapidly approaching death fell away. All of a sudden Luster was aware of a presence that had always been there, waiting for him to realize it. Looming at the back of his helm, watching him, following his every movement, shutting out his memories, whispering lies to him, and willing him to return to the surface. 

‘Solace?’ He said, but even as he said it he felt his voice dying away. ‘Is that…is that really…you?’

Damnable silence. Nothing but humming, growing louder. Luster felt his spark spinning faster in his chassis. 

There was someone else in his head. 

‘Who are you?’ He asked, and in response the humming grew louder.

The sparks Shockwave was operating on suddenly flashed. The overhead lights flickered. Luster felt the first pinpricks of energy shooting directly into him, painfully seizing into his spark. He hissed despite his gag, the pain quickly becoming full-body. 

Oracelle turned to give him one last look. Their optics met for only a moment before he returned to his work. 

‘Was that you on Earth?! Did you do this to me? Can you help me?’

Damnable humming and only that. He swore that the hangar was getting darker, and looming over it was a familiar shape. 

‘Please, please, whoever you are, whatever you can do, you know more than I do! I don’t know what you want, whatever it is! Just–just help me, do whatever you need to! Take my stupid body, take my mind, take it, get me out of here! PLEASE!’

The humming was so loud now that he couldn’t make out any other noise. The spark glowed brighter, the lights strobing now. 

‘I’LL DO ANYTHING! PLEASE! SOLACE!’

A flash of light so bright it encompassed them both. Luster froze, then spasmed as the promised charge flooded him. He only felt the first few agonizing bolts. They were visceral, full body strikes, each paralyzing and throttling him like a leaf in the wind. 

His breaths stopped. His frame tensed so tightly its parts snapped. His tentacles suddenly jerked, too violent with the pulse of death to be held. 

He shrieked, so loudly and painfully that the very world froze. 

And the lights went out. 

—------

Just as he’d predicted three point six million years ago, Oracelle awoke in darkness. His optics onlined to what any untrained mech would believe was a dream. But he knew better. 

The pain throbbing in the back of his helm told him all he needed. Shockwave was momentarily dazed from breaking the twins’ bond. The time for action was now. 

The first thing he did was rip the tentacle from his head. Without Shockwave’s consciousness to maintain it, the needle came out as easily as a splinter from a wound. Then he grabbed the tentacle attached to his collar and, pulling it taut, bit down onto it with his dentae. Tearing viciously, he ripped its cabling, breaking its connection to its master. 

Energon leaked from his helm in a constant stream. He disabled the damage notifications popping up in his HUD, instead focusing all of them on his power. The second HUD he was so familiar with, that which constantly fed him a stream of information of what was to be, crowded half of his vision. If he was to ensure the future he had so worked for, he would have to balance perfectly between focusing on the now and when.

His body, his mind, his emotions, it could come later. Now was the time for action. 

His second action, after freeing himself, was to run to the pod on the wall, the one which had spent the entire operation filling with mobile metallico. Its predetermined shape was that of a familiar mech, one who had been alive only a year prior. 

Oracelle grabbed his baton from his subspace, pressing the button on it to activate its scythe mode. Immediately the baton extended, becoming a pole from which its energon blade crackled to life. 

Swinging with all the strength in his damnable, cold-constructed body, he shattered the pod, then violently eviscerated the still shape within. Liquid metal splattered this way and that, covering the frozen tentacles and littering the floor. 

With the very substance that had shaped him covering his front, Oracelle wheeled around and turned his scythe on the machine containing the remnants of his trinemate. With a single slash he severed its cords, breaking its connection to the pods. Then he punched through the glass on its front and pulled Spark Storm’s gray form from within. 

Dead. One Sparkeater taken care of. Tossing her aside, he turned his gaze on Luster. 

His frame was frozen mid-shriek. His optics were open, though not online. His legs had been torn from their sockets, claws gouging deep slashes into the gurney he laid upon. 

He wasn’t gray. 

Not good. His frame was still as silvery as mercury, and though the glow from his middle had decreased to being almost unascertainable, it was still there. 

The true Sparkeater lived. That was worse. Oracelle held off on collecting the charge cylinder the machine held, raising his scythe to sever Luster’s helm. 

A silvery tentacle shot up from the other side of the table, catching his blade. His optics widened. Another rose up like a snake. 

It snaps like a whip, wraps around the pole, and tears it from your servos. Weaponless, you turn and fly away. Without your scythe, you have to use your blasters. A single bolt hits the cylinder. The explosion is seen from the surface above–

His servos slammed against the button on the scythe’s pole, reverting it to baton status. Activating his thrusters, he immediately shot into the air.

Luster’s tentacles came to life, slashing violently at Shockwave’s own and freeing his limp body from their grasp. Then they raised him up, pointing towards Oracelle. 

His helm lolled to the side, optics onlining. They were green. 

He only looks stiff. The moment you move he activates and leaps for you. Left, right, down, death. Up. 

Powering his thrusters even more, he shot for the ceiling and transformed, flipping over so his undercarriage wasn’t exposed. And just as he’d seen, Luster leaped. 

Even with their distance his tentacles still scraped against Oracelle, leaving deep gouges as the rest of Luster plunged towards the ground. Oracelle disabled his pain receptors, focusing instead on his predictions–

Just as the lights came back on. Shockwave’s tentacles swayed drunkenly for a moment before they turned on their two targets. 

He only had about four hundred foes. He could take that many. Theoretically 

You dive and he catches you. You bank right and they shoot out after you, reaching for your undercarriage. You fly along the ceiling and buy yourself two seconds as Shockwave activates more tentacles. You drop to the floor and they eviscerate you. You bank left and they entangle you like a fly in a web. 

You stay here too long, and they impale you from above. 

Along the ceiling. He shot upwards, the panels in the walls blasting off as Shockwave’s limbs burst out from above him, predicting his movements. 

Left, death. Right, success. Left again, success. Right, death. Left. Right. Curve. Down. Up. 

The inputs came milliseconds apart from one another and he executed them each perfectly. The top of the hangar was rapidly approaching. 

Yes, it was simple. He knew what he had to do: acquire that bond. With that the Seekers in the pods would follow him. How to get down there?

A clacking nearby caught his attention. Checking his cameras, he spotted Luster chasing after him on the wall, running on his tentacles, claws bared. Even as Shockwave’s own tentacles burst from the paneling, he dodged them perfectly, outspeeding the lashing limbs. 

Oh. 

One of them shot for his wing. Oracelle dodged left, only to be scraped by one of Shockwave’s. Hissing, he activated his boosters and dived, aiming straight for the floor before aggressively banking up and transforming back, using his momentum to launch his robot mode towards the broken machine. 

You land. There are tentacles left and right. Shockwave has predicted where you’re aiming for and is waiting just behind it. Don’t grab the cylinder itself, knock the machine over. 

Landing nearby, he used his thrusters to force himself back up and sprinted for the machine. Already his baton was spilling out, flailing in his servos for a moment before he seized it and turned it into his scythe. Twisting like he was preparing to slice, he awaited that fatal tentacle behind the machine. 

It did not come. And just as he realized that his power had failed him again, a tentacle from behind seized onto his leg. Combined with his twisted posture, he tripped and hit his shoulder–hard.

Activate your thrusters immediately. Shoot back into the air and tumble beside the machine. Shoot out its legs and knock it down. The tentacles will move to preserve its cargo. Shoot for the exit, tentacle to the right, tentacle above the door, tentacle in front, tentacle tentacle 

tentacle tentacle tentacle tentacle tentacle tentacle 

He was getting very, very tired of seeing tentacles. And too late, he realized that was all his vision–both real and perceived–had become. 

The lights overhead blared angrily, flashing on and off. He felt limbs wrapping around his arms and legs, lifting him off the floor in a spread pose, baring his chest to the lights. 

Something silvery leaped from the wall towards him. It was caught and swarmed. Not even a second later, he heard slicing and saw sparking. 

Luster shot out of the mass swarming him and bit into the nearest appendage, ripping it open with his dentae and tossing it aside. Then his green gaze turned to Oracelle’s exposed form and held. 

It stares at you and shrieks. You freeze up, unable to fight, and it climbs atop you, ripping your spark out. Shockwave lets it, for your final trespass has convinced him of your uselessness. 

It stares at you as it crawls forward, preparing its claws. It shreds your chassis, then clamps down on your spark and chews. 

It stares at you and its tentacles rise, piercing straight through you. 

It stares at you and–

His visions suddenly cut off as a pressure built in his helm, and he realized that the worst fate had not been revealed to him yet, whether that was mercy or not. 

His jaws began to open despite no command to do so. His vision began to glitch, the notifications he’d disabled swarming it. Feeling numbed in his servos and pedes. The cables of his neck strained. 

He knew what was happening to him and that was the worst part. Each individual second of consciousness he still had ticked down in his vision. 

Ten, nine, eight. 

Wasn’t Skyrend on his way? He was supposed to be here. He’d given Channel that datastick.

Seven, six, five. 

Had she even seen its contents? Skyrend had pinged back failure. Was it truly so? 

Four. Three. 

This couldn’t be it, this future was supposed to be it. He’d tried so hard. He’d done everything right. He’d planned it from day one, from the first vision he’d seen of his fate, the one where, at Shockwave’s servos, he’d removed his helm and spark and attached them to a machine. Everything he’d see displayed on a screen next to him. 

Finally, you are where you belong.

Two. 

He could feel the metal of his helm cracking and crunching as his brain tried to escape its bounds. 

How hadn’t the charge killed him? He’d foreseen it would. How was Luster still alive?

One.

His consciousness fizzled just as the door exploded, breaking Luster’s focus. The force tearing his brain out suddenly broke, causing his HUD to blacken for just a nanoklik before restoring itself. Oracelle coughed, tasting cranial fluid at the back of his mouth. 

“LET HIM GO!” 

He recognized Skyrend’s roar, followed by the entire hangar shaking as he charged. Luster hissed and bared his tentacles, only to be swatted aside like a fly. 

Too late the limbs holding him made an attempt to pass him off to others on the wall. Flipping the wings on his forearms forward, Skyrend severed them with a single slash, catching Oracelle as he dropped from their grip. 

There were others following him in. He recognized Puncture and Channel and silently thanked both his good fortune and visions. Everything was still on track–mostly. 

Before Skyrend could even speak Oracelle was pulling himself up, fighting how dizzy the action made him. Part of his brain had pushed through the back of his mouth, and every word he spoke hurt.

“The charge cylinder!” He yelled. “Grab it before–”

But Shockwave had already beaten them to it. He looked over just in time to see several thick feelers wrapping around the machine, crushing it and plucking its cargo from within.

“Stop him!” 

Channel moved to reach into her chassis before her helm snapped to the side. “PUNCTURE! LOOK OUT!” 

The other managed to jerk around just in time to catch Luster as he leaped on her, tentacles piercing into her plating and violently ripping away at it. A dozen visions blared in his HUD at once, showing Puncture dead, victorious, dying, injured. 

He didn’t have time to worry about her. Shockwave had plucked the cylinder from the machine, taking it into the floor. Oracelle dropped from Skyrend’s grip, landing on shaky pedes and coughing out Energon and cranial fluid. 

“Get OFF of her you tentacled FREAK!” Channel yelled. He sighed in exasperation and turned, raising his blaster just in time to witness Puncture flip and body slam Luster into the floor. 

The action seemed to stun him momentarily, his tentacles twitching as his optics went out again. 

He’s stunned, and gets up in ten kliks, attacking when your backs are turned. The action distracts you long enough for Shockwave to form.

He’s stunned, and stays on the floor for your entire fight. You execute him when you’re finished. 

He’s dead. You have won. 

He’s stunned, and slips away when you’re occupied. You return to find scratch marks leading up the shaft. 

He’s not stunned, and just waiting for you to turn so he might act. 

It was more likely he was stunned than anything else. Oracelle would have to hedge his bets on that. He’d already done so with the hope that Channel would come through, he could do it again. 

“You three!” He yelled, taking on his commander voice. “We need to act now! Shockwave has the charge cylinder, he’s taking it to the Distiller’s chamber!” Already, he was activating his thrusters, rising into the air to point at it. “The glass is weapon-proof.” 

His gaze darted between Skyrend and Puncture. “But not you proof. Come on!”

Skyrend nodded and began to power on his boosters when the first shot sizzled against his shoulder. They all froze, looking to its origin. 

One of the Seeker pods was open. Its empty frame was moving, blaster pointed at their group. A tentacle had plunged its way into the back of the frame’s helm. 

Oracelle shuddered at the sight. Shockwave had decided that, as opposed to having functional soldiers that could survive on their own, he’d sacrifice a few to deal with the threat inside of his lab now.

Five more Seeker pods popped open, the empty frames within animating as tentacles plunged into them as well. Twenty more were in the process of being swarmed. 

He grit his dentae. The sky had suddenly become a lot more dangerous. Perhaps Skyrend and Puncture could take the abuse for a while, but not him and Channel. 

Plan M^9, then. 

“Skyrend,” he called, raising a blaster and pointing it at the first Seeker. “Get Puncture to the glass. You both focus on breaking it. I’ll cover you.” He fired a shot clean into the Seeker’s empty spark chamber, watched it recoil before stepping forth. “Channel!” 

She looked expectantly at him, two handmade grenades in her servos. 

“I’ll need a pilot. Think you can suffice?”

She blinked once. “You…a pilot?”

“I took some damage. Having someone to watch my blindspots would be nice. You’re the only one who’s the right size.” 

Seekers could fly themselves. The only reason they ever asked for pilots was, specifically, for high stress situations where watching every camera and every blind spot would be too much for one bot to handle. And more than anything, Oracelle understood what boost a proper Headmaster could give him–if Channel was really that. 

She worried her lower derma for just a moment before nodding. “Alright. But don’t you think’a doin’ anythin’.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured. 

Landing back down, Oracelle ducked behind Skyrend, who shielded him while he transformed, taking his flight mode and popping his cockpit. Already the laser bolts being fired had increased in magnitude, going from merely one to seven. Channel kept her grenades at the ready as she vaulted up his wing and landed squarely in his middle. But before he could close his cockpit, Puncture grabbed its edge.

“Don’t die,” she warned Channel, once, and let go. “And for the record, future boy, I’m only following your orders because there’s no better way out of this. We’re through once Shockwave is dead.” 

“Glad to have you too,” he quipped back, mentally rolling his optics. “Now deploy!”

Firing up his thrusters, Oracelle shot past Skyrend and into the air, leaving him and Puncture behind as the sounds of other Seeker engines fired up alongside him. He had the lead, but it was small and quickly narrowing. Banking up and twirling to allow himself to reposition, he let Channel monitor his cameras as he turned his focus on his pursuers.

Only three. The other four were focusing fire on Skyrend, who returned it with shots from his own blasters. Notably, those focusing him were still in robot mode, hovering in the air as they rained bolt after bolt on their target. 

The three pursuing him were in jet mode. And from their undercarriages protruded tentacles, tentacles which were still connected to the wall. 

That was why Shockwave hadn’t wanted to do this–he had to maintain that connection the entire time. Doing so on fast moving fliers surely had to be slowing him down elsewhere. 

It also meant they had a definitive weak spot. Oracelle grinned. The dizziness was a problem, but these enemies were no worse than level three training dummies.

“Banking!” He pinged Channel, abandoning his advantage above the pursuing trine to fly just above them, firing his blasters as he did so. As expected, they broke formation, wheeling away in three directions. 

And in doing so, they exposed their undercarriages. He only had two blasters, and they could only fire in one direction. He aimed for the one on the left. 

Two bolts tore into its connection and it dropped, nothing but an empty shell abandoned by its host. 

“On your right!” Channel pinged back to him, and in response he sharply turned left, narrowly avoiding a criss-cross of shots from the two remaining. Sending her a thanks, Oracelle shot for the pods, flying just over them. As expected, the two seekers paused in their fire as they closed in behind him. 

Of course Shockwave wouldn’t harm his remaining soldiers. Even as more tentacles threatened to pour into those pods, wasting those precious, pre-built lives, he didn’t want to lose more than he had to. 

And those same tentacles would be their downfall. Oracelle harshly banked up, then left, flying in a loop around the others. Then he twirled down, ensuring that the pods remained just beside him as he did so. 

The others tried to mimic his movements, to follow and to force him out of the sky, only for the twist to entangle their tentacles, ripping both from the frames with their own momentum. 

One trine down. Straining, he turned on those harassing Skyrend and shot at them, distracting them just long enough for Skyrend to score a hit. 

Assaulted from both sides, the Seekers transformed and shot straight up, trying to gain an advantage. As they did so, Skyrend took his alt, Puncture hopping on top of him as he took to the air. 

“The glass!” Oracelle yelled at him as they passed. “Get that cylinder!” 

Skyrend pinged acknowledgement as Oracelle wheeled after the other Seekers, firing at them in his ascent. Channel was an ever present weight in his cockpit, and her presence gave him a sudden idea. 

“Those bombs, how effective are they?” He asked as they straightened out, one Seeker pursuing a trine of others. 

“They’ve just got a bit’a Energon in ‘em. Puncture was s’pposed to fill ‘em. Explosion’s not as effective without her.”

“Good.” He shot the wing of one Seeker, then flew along the wall, just over the Seeker pods again, daring the remaining two to shoot. “See the tentacles swarming the pods?”

They were a blur beneath him, he was going so fast, but Channel nodded. 

“Hope you’ve got a good throwing arm. I can only shoot down so many. You see a tentacle arising, throw a bomb. Keep them from awakening more.”

Channel paused, looking to her grenades, then to his wings. “Yer goin’ fast–”

“Can’t afford to slow down. Grip with all you’ve got.” Even as he spoke, three more Seekers rose from their pods, still in robot mode. “Ready yourself!”

A loud BANG! sounded through the air. He diverted his vision just long enough to make out Puncture at the window, sending a spray of venom over its surface. With one of her scythes she gripped the wall, and with the other, she alternated between assaulting the glass with force and venom. Skyrend was swirling around her, using his body as her shield. 

Progress. But it would be futile if Shockwave got that cylinder into his new body. 

“Banking up!” He began to rise just as Channel grabbed his steering and forced it down. Oracelle yelped at the sudden intrusion, his body shakily adjusting and almost veering off course. Before he could demand just why she’d done that, a tentacle shot out from the wall where he’d just been about to fly. 

The pods were no longer safe. Glancing down, he noticed the tentacles shrouding them were no longer moving to possess, but to defend. 

And there were three moving to swarm Skyrend. 

“Change of plans!” He rose, now the chased as two Seekers pursued from behind, firing on both sides. Moving in a circular pattern, he just barely kept the bolts from singeing his wings. “How’s your aim?!”

Channel was already up, grabbing the lip of his cockpit, grenade at the ready. “Not a bad time to learn!”

Popping his cockpit was beyond risky while he was rising. They’d have one shot at this. Steeling himself, Oracelle suddenly forced himself to fly horizontal, the strain threatening to knock him from the air. At the same time he opened his cockpit, almost spilling Channel out from his depths. 

She yelped, gripping his edge so tightly he felt the metal bend. A damage notification rose in his HUD that he promptly closed. She pulled the pins on her grenades, winded her arm back, and threw. 

He activated his thrusters just in time to keep them from being blasted out of the air. The others weren’t nearly as lucky, their parts sprinkling to the ground below. 

“Yes!” Channel pumped her fist, then dropped back into his cockpit, the glass slamming down over her. “Right, now for the other–”

The damage notification arose in his HUD again. Another came with it. Before Oracelle could stop them a dozen had filled his vision, clouding it completely. Even when he ordered them to disappear they remained. 

Which was when a horrible pain struck his chassis. His body suddenly began to shake. His T-Cog seized, and at full Seeker speed he began to revert to robot mode. Channel yelped as the cockpit around her folded. 

Oracelle tried to use his thrusters to catch himself and flailed, sending himself spinning instead. Blind and tumbling through the air, he issued an SOS without even realizing it–only to retrieve one from Skyrend right back. 

He hit something hard enough to crack the glass of his cockpit. Channel let out a cry of pain, which he barely heard over the glitching of his audials. His entire body was horribly heavy and broken, like it was coming apart at the seams. The pain was visceral, full body, and paralyzing. Every beat of his spark sounded in his mind, vision spotting with errors and blackness. 

He managed to raise just one servo, trying to feel around where he was. And in his crowded vision, he recognized something awful: 

His servos were melting. 

—-----------------

Her shoulder burned from the effort, but with one final punch, Puncture broke through the glass of the Distiller’s chamber. She hissed with delight as she widened the hole she’d made, sending glass shards flying to the ground below. 

“I’m in!” She pinged Skyrend, and he sent back a small, congratulatory ping which included the text image of a party horn. Taking her alt mode, she crawled along the wall and into the void she’d made, dropping into a room so brightly lit her optics had to adjust. 

The machine she’d almost been sacrificed to was still in its exact place, and she was just behind it. Climbing over it, Puncture took in the sight of a pod in the wall, one swarming with tentacles. Metal from the machine was oozing into it, and cords from a metallic cylinder filled with bright red light had been attached to it. She recognized the shape forming within.

“Not on my fragging watch,” she growled, dropping off the machine and taking her robot mode. “You’ve ruined so much of my fragging life, now I get to ruin yours.”

A dozen tentacles burst from the ceiling. Raising her scythes, Puncture slashed at them, cutting a few down as the others wrapped around her arms. Grunting, she braced herself and pulled back, using raw strength to tear them from their roots. 

“Think that’s going to work now?!” She barked with laughter, preparing to spit. “Send ALL of your freaky worms at me, I’ll crush each one!” 

Something sharp suddenly jabbed into the back of her helm, and before she could tear away a voice sounded in her head. 

“Take another step and your friends will all cease to be.”

She blinked, unused to the sound of someone’s voice in her head, and then snapped. 

“Get the frag out of my head now.” 

An image was forced into her HUD, taking up her full view before she could stop it. It was a map of P1U70, zoomed in on the hangar. As she watched, familiar shapes came into view. 

Skyrend, Oracelle, and Channel. Two were on the ground, and one was plummeting. At the same time he hit the ground, she heard a crash and felt the entire hangar shake. 

“What did you do!?” She demanded, scythes shaking. “IF YOU FRAGGING KILLED THEM–”

“They are alive. Alive, but unwell.” The image suddenly pulled up vitals, showing–

Oracelle and Skyrend’s sparks were spinning faster than thrice the safe rate. Their bodies were rapidly giving out as the connection between spark and metal gave way, resulting in…

“Mobile metallico is unstable,” Shockwave explained, calmly. “When the connection between spark and metal severs, it returns to its prior shape, as opposed to upholding it, like sentio. But as you likely know, it’s possible to sever a spark’s connection to its frame without actually separating them. Common methods include programmed spark attacks, from things as innocuous as, say, tracking chips.”

Her optics widened in horror. Without immediate medical attention, Skyrend would perish. She’d lose her proxy all over again. And Channel–

“The little one, your Headmaster. You like her, don’t you? Have you ever seen mobile metallico in action, Puncture?” 

An image of a spark being tossed into a vat was beamed into her mind.

“When it needs charge, it eats.”

“You fragging glitch,” she spat. “You fragging–”

“So you have a choice now, Puncture.” The tentacles around the pod loosened. “Either you stop here, and I will pause those spark attacks…or you advance, and strike this version of me down, losing everyone you care about in the process. Again.”

Her entire body shook with rage. All it would take was one slash. All she had to do was angle her venom in a single stream. All she had to do was kill him, and this would end.

Why couldn’t Shockwave make anything fragging EASY!?

Puncture vented harshly and stepped back, clenching her servos tightly. Immediately tentacles wrapped around her tightly, binding her legs together and holding her arms behind her back. Two slithered around her neck, working to keep her mouth shut. 

“Excellent decision, Insecticon. I will enjoy dissecting you properly when this is all over.” 

The image was ripped from her head along with the tentacle. 

“The spark attacks,” she growled. “Stop them. You’d better not–”

She stopped, realizing she could no longer hear him without the tentacle. In her single moment of empathy, Shockwave had tricked her. 

Puncture shrieked with rage and tried to lunge, straining the tentacles holding her. Snapping her jaws, she bit at those around, spitting venom with each chomp. Appendages singed and melted away, wires frayed and sparked, but the damage had already been done. More took their place, forcibly restraining her. 

And as she watched, the form in the pod took its final shape. Tubes connected into its spark chamber, and those linking to the cylinder suddenly filled with its light. 

The body illuminated as a deep purple colored it. The open spark chamber filled with a gentle red light. And a single yellow onlined, glowing as it took in her trapped form. 

Shockwave. 

The cylinder drained completely, its substance disappearing into Shockwave’s spark chamber. The door to the pod opened, hissing as it did so. One step was taken, then another. 

“Foolish,” he said. “You are a poor Decepticon. Empathy will take you nowhere. Do not forget you are nothing but resources to be used, consumed, and recycled.”

The lights in the ceiling went out, leaving her with only Shockwave’s yellow optic. He raised his blaster and pointed it for her head. 

She didn’t see what happened next, only heard it. Shockwave suddenly gasped with pain and seized, blaster jerking upwards as his entire body convulsed. The spark chamber that had just close reopened, its red spark spinning rapidly and glowing like a star. 

Then it disappeared, bringing an unholy shriek of tearing metal along with it. 

It was pitch black for twenty unbearable nanokliks. She made out the sounds of clicking, whirring, creaking, like some kind of mechanical being was building itself up. Clangs sounded as parts hit the floor. Then a drip drip drip silenced them all, and the lights overhead began to flicker weakly. 

In its dim light she could make Shockwave crouching on the floor, grabbing at his own chest and straining against the thing bursting out of it. It was only a partial skeleton, made of an arm, part of a helm, and some basic ribbing for the chassis. But formed or not, it was fighting, tearing out Shockwave’s own innards as it attempted to burst free. 

The tentacles holding her were beginning to loosen. Shockwave was almost silent, but the way that he and his extensions quivered spoke well of his feelings: 

He was in some of the worst agony anyone could ever experience. 

A pool of mobile metallico was beginning to form on the floor. The purple was beginning to leech from Shockwave’s armor. Holding steady, he raised a trembling blaster and tried to point it at the thing’s head. 

A single red optic online, trembling as it stared down the barrel of a blaster. And the thing screamed.

The sound almost burst her audials. Puncture disabled them just in time. The tentacles holding her seized at the sound, losing their grip. 

That was all she needed. Seizing the moment Puncture spat on the ones holding her arm and tore the others away, freeing herself. And without hesitation she beelined for Shockwave. Her scythes flipped back, leaving only her clawed servos to finish the job. 

It would be done in the way she loved most, the way that had given her a name in The Pit. Kicking him in the torso, she knocked Shockwave onto his back and grabbed his helm, grinning cruelly as her servos dug into it. His single yellow optic stared back, no emotion of any kind in it. 

“Hey, Shockwave?” She said as she began to pull. “Have a great time in hell.” 

And slamming her pede into his middle, Puncture arched her back and tore. 

An arch of Energon splattered against the wall. Mobile metallico oozed out in a thick stream. Puncture held her trophy high as the lights of the lab turned off, then blared at full power. 

“I AM PUNCTURE!” She screamed for one last time. “AND THIS FIGHT IS OVER!” 

Her voice echoed through the empty halls and the hangar. She held the pose for a moment more before remembering Skyrend, panic suddenly pulsing through her spark. Was he alright? 

But before she could tear a hole in the Distiller and make for the window, Shockwave’s remnants moved. Puncture turned on the mass and hissed, raising her scythes at the thing taking shape. 

It was small, not even half her height. The pieces of armor that showed were eye bleeding green and pink, and the face that was partially melted had only one optic–red, just as she’d seen before. The chassis was dangerously open, showcasing its spark chamber to the world. 

It looked up at her with recognition, the kind that spoke of prior confrontations that had ended poorly. Puncture lowered her scythes and paused, taking in the situation before her. There was plenty of bad blood between them already. She could end it now, at last, and come out on top in the process. 

Instead she huffed and offered her claw. 

“Come on then, get up,” she grumbled. “Your buds’re dying to see you.”

—--

Channel slammed her pede against the orange glass keeping her locked in, sending shards of the stuff across the floor. Crouching down, she managed to just barely crawl out from Oracelle’s broken cockpit, being mindful of the glass as she did so. Once she was out, she was immediately on guard, raising a grenade as she scanned for enemies. 

The Seekers who had been pursuing them were floating in the air overhead, their jet modes abandoned as they trained their blasters on her and him. She cast a quick look to her injured ally and almost gasped at the sight: his entire frame was melting, as if he was in a smelting pool. 

The sight distracted her for too low. The pew of laser bolts whistled through the air, and before she could dodge, they singed into her plating. Channel yelped, almost dropping her grenade, and staggered back, her own damage report indicating that her external armor had taken heavy fire and was no longer viable. 

Any additional hits from bots as big as them would likely kill her. She had to make her next grenade count. Ducking behind Oracelle’s form, Channel pulled the pin and threw her grenade in a wide arc, aiming for it to explode between the Seekers firing at her. 

Whether or not it dropped them never became apparent. The entire hangar suddenly shook as something massive dropped–Skyrend. She risked peeking over Oracelle’s gooey form to make out his in the same condition. Her spark pounded faster in her chassis. 

Shockwave must have some kind of killswitch, and he was only using it now. Looking up, she could see the broken window–Puncture must have gotten into the Distiller’s room. And the cost of potentially stopping Shockwave was his creations. 

Another rain of bolts scattered around her and she ducked back down. It seemed she’d missed. She quickly pinged Oracelle, requesting his blaster. 

All she got back was a groan of agony, the murmur of a mech on the verge of death. 

“It’s over…oh…Primus…no…happy endings…not…for me…”

Her spark ached at the sound of his voice. There had to be something she could do to stop–

The lights went out. She froze. Nearby, the Seeker’s dropped as well, clanging uselessly against the ground. Did that mean…Puncture had done it?

She wanted to enter the Wavescape, see if she could reach Puncture, but there were other pressing issues at hand. Turning, she ordered her optics to adjust and quickly scanned Oracelle. 

His vitals were more befitting of a corpse than a live mech. His spark rate was dangerously high, and its connection to his frame was suffering as a result. The metal making him up was rebelling and attempting to revert to its original shape, but without any blueprints beyond his own, it could only turn to its prior shape: that of gooey, liquid mobile metallico. 

There were options. She could relocate his spark into one of the prepared Seekers if need be, though there was no guarantee that it would take. If she was to save his current body, she’d need to kickstart the connection between his spark and frame again. And to do that she’d need something capable of conducting incredibly strong, electrical currents. 

Her gaze fell upon the frozen tentacles on the walls, quickly moving to Luster’s inert form. 

Vaulting Oracelle like he was nothing more than a fallen log, she charged over to Luster and grabbed onto one of his long, spindly limbs. With a bit of effort, she managed to drag him over to Oracelle. Moving quickly, Channel raised his helm and pressed her servos against it, forcing a connection between them. 

A screaming hum roared through her helm, almost knocking her over. Channel cringed back, fighting to maintain her focus. Images flashed in her head, those of the stars, the crescent moon, planets breaking apart, screaming citizens fleeing to nowhere, familiar bots drifting through space, becoming reformed, becoming different. 

She gasped and broke their connection. The humming was still echoing in her head, becoming a deafening shriek. Channel smacked a fist against her helm again and again, trying to force it out. 

And just behind, Luster’s claws twitched. As she shook and struggled, he pulled himself up, green optics turning on her. 

The cracking of his jaw was loud enough to divert her attention. Channel gasped and threw up her arms just in time to keep him from biting down on her head. For a moment her vision was nothing but the horrible view of a Sparkeater’s throat, clear solvent flying past her as he roared. 

The sound activated her fear sensors without her consent. Even as she tried to forcibly disable them they continued to turn on, weakening her arms and letting him gain ground. His dentae scraped against the top of her helm, threatening to bite her face off at any moment. 

“LUSTER!” She screamed, fear causing her voice to crack. “It’s me, damnit! Stop it! I fixed you! I saved you! Me an Uptick!” 

The name gave him pause, which opened up enough of an opportunity for her to pull back. Clawing at her chassis, she tried to pull a grenade as Luster napped his head to the side, staring at her. A low hiss formed in his throat as his optics flickered. 

Then he sniffed the air, searching, before locking in on Oracelle. 

She realized what was happening before it had even occurred, but there was nothing Channel could do to stop it. A grenade was in her servos, one she didn’t remember retrieving. In the same moment that Luster crawled atop Oracelle she raised it, moving to pull its pin. 

No happy endings. Not for me. 

Had he seen this? Luster’s claws pierced into his malleable form, pulling forth a purple spark with a sickening squelch. She heard Oracelle whimper pathetically before going silent. 

Her grip faltered. If she threw the grenade, if it exploded that spark, it wouldn’t just be Luster and Oracelle she killed. 

A cracking as Luster parted his jaws, far too wide for any normal Cybertronian. His green optics gleamed, sparkling like the jewel still making up his crest. 

It was now or never. Kill him, kill Oracelle, and kill herself and Skyrend, taking everyone in the hangar down with her, or…

Resign Oracelle, the true savior of this future, to the worst fate imaginable. 

She couldn’t decide. But indecision was still a choice. 

Luster bit down with a sound like a gunshot. Her entire body froze up, and the grenade in her servos dropped uselessly to the floor. 

As if to mock her he turned his head towards her, a grin in his optics. The colorless light of his middle took a lavender tint. And before Channel could scream, he suddenly leaped–

just over her and out the door. 

Her legs were jelly. Channel fell to her knees, the scenario she’d just witnessed playing in her vision over and over and over. 

Skyrend was dying nearby. Oracelle was dead. Luster had escaped. Tickers was…Tickers was…

There were empty Seekers on the floor nearby, Seekers who had never truly been alive. More were still in their pods in the walls. Puncture…

Had anyone made it, besides her? If she didn’t act now, they wouldn’t. But she couldn’t…she couldn’t move. She couldn’t take it anymore. 

Had Shockwave won, even if he’d been defeated?

She felt numb, and so, so far away.  

A ping lit up her notifications, a ping from Puncture. She blearily opened it. 

‘Shockwave’s dead. How you holding up?’

Her response was to share her EM field and the hopelessness in it. Puncture responded almost immediately:

‘Don’t you fragging give up on me now, Channel. There’s gotta be something we can do. And I got someone here who can help us with our Sparkeater problem. So get off your sorry aft and tell me, now: how much of my spark do I have to give up to save Skyrend?’