#DataFile One

[sours-grab-bag]

Bad Computer - A Demon A Day

[lex-noctis]

Happy N7◢ Day, Mass Effect Fandom!

And here is a little fanart gift from me to you all. Ever since the Mass Effect Legendary Edition launched and Bioware gave us an official Cover Art Creator, I wanted to make a poster print combining as many pieces together as I could. And here it is. I have done my best in styling, composition and coloring to channel my favorite poster and illustration artist working today - Grzegorz "Gabz" Domaradzki. And then I got it printed and hung it up on my wall, where it shares the space with other posters of some of the greatest movies, tv shows and games. This is only a fanart and I wish I could credit every single concept artist that provided those amazing pieces, but sadly the only artist I know for sure about is Benjamin Huen, who made an incredible Miranda Lawson concept art that was used for the Art Creator. If anyone knows exactly who was responsible for any of the individual and amazing pieces, I would love to add their names, too.

Well, then. I should go.

[simptasia]

i miss when memory alpha was black

[bawkbawkmoose]

Horizon AU where Aloy reaches the ruins of New York City and finds exactly one single datafile that's still uncorrupted enough for the Focus to read and it's All I Want For Christmas Is You

[tinydefector]

MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

Masterlist

The Scientist 

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working. 

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar. 

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made . 

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him. 

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny. 

Cyclonus and Tailgate 

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking. 

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from. 

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him, 

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows. 

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache. 

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl. 

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there. 

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes. 

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it. 

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for. 

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look. 

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung. 

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

 

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton 

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod. 

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying. 

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture 

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic,  quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish. 

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things. 

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is. 

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads. 

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby. 

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap. 

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it. 

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names. 

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

 

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus 

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time. 

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is. 

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions. 

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together. 

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage. 

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas. 

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly. 

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about. 

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge. 

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️. 

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients. 

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship. 

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for. 

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him. 

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won. 

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd. 

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron. 

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there. 

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off. 

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him. 

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake. 

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once. 

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters. 

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy. 

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests. 

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves. 

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers. 

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames. 

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl. 

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology. 

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll. 

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus. 

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm. 

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus 

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted". 

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety. 

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings. 

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him. 

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up. 

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms. 

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot. 

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime. 

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand. 

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state. 

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid. 

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Hey Frost 💙! Happy 200 Followers 🥳!!

For the event I would love to submit an idea! What about an angsty Wolffe confronting Fox after he shoots Fives 👀?

Congrats!

The Tragedy of Level 1325 [Commander Wolffe Fic]

Warnings and Information: Clones killing their own kin is always an awful occurrence, more often than not a rare and accidental thing. So when Commander Wolffe catches wind of what happened on Level 1325, he meets with the other canine-themed Commander to get answers. And none of them will be easy to get, or, to hear. Set after the Clone Wars season six episode “Orders”. Lots of angst and heavy stuff in this one, folks! Heavy references/allusions to Fives’ death. Heavy references/allusions to canon-typical death, violence and injury. Reference to Pong Krell. Star Wars and real-world swearing. Minimal Mando’a. Narrative and stylistic use of italics.  **This is not a cloneship/clonecest fic. Please do not tag it as such.**

Word count: 4,287

How fast word travels in the GAR is both a blessing and burden. 

Regardless of the distance, time of day, or paint color, brothers will hear what the others have gotten up to in-between their conquest to defeat the Confederacy of Independent Systems. A rookie’s foolish notion to prank his superiors that ends with him earning himself a month’s worth of latrine duty. The terrible pick-up lines learned from holomags (and their success, or lack thereof) used on other patrons of 79’s. Brave charges lead out of killboxes and ambushes.

Clones turning on their own kin - that bitter pill was hard to stomach. 

Commander Wolffe found himself choking down one such pill upon hearing the events of the night before. 

It didn’t make a difference how many times he consulted the datafile in front of him, the mingling of horror and disbelief settled just as heavily in his heart each time. The primary commander of the Coruscant Guard had been the one behind the blaster used to end a Clone’s life on Level 1325, and it had not been an accident either. This was not another case of some sleemo stealing and wearing a Clone’s full kit; it had been, without question, a brother. 

Clones were less uniform than many nat-borns would like to believe. They may look the same from the texture of their hair, to their face-shape, and the warm-brown skin, but that’s often as far as the similarities go. They found their originality in names, speech-patterns, scarring, the way hair was cut (or bleached or dyed or styled), the addition and location of injected ink. There were the occasional (minor) aberrations, too, of course; like the brothers who ended up ocean-eyed, or blond. 

(They at least knew where the blondeness came from; a dormant echo in the genetics of the man who served as the master mold for the Grand Army.)

Not to mention the paint, and the patterns. The paint job was perhaps the biggest, most important piece of their individualism (at least externally). Those working in tandem with the soldiers relied quite heavily on the personalization to their second skins when first introduced. 

So when the datafile in Wolffe’s hands tells him the armor worn by the dead trooper was not his own, a sense of confusion as well as a wave of mild horror washes over the flint gray commander. The deceased was one of the 501st Legion’s cobalt crusaders, yet the ARC trooper had been killed in an unpainted, second skin that had been stolen from another. 

Why?

So many why-s.

When asking if his brother would agree to meet with him, it had taken some convincing. Fox’s agreement ultimately came with conditions, which were thankfully simple. Find somewhere in CoCo Town - as he was due to patrol that near that sector in a few hours time - and find some caf that didn’t taste like droid oil. 

There, Commander Fox would attempt to provide as many answers to Wolffe’s questions as he could. 

Though he couldn’t promise there’d be answers for all of them.

Entering the eighth eatery, Wolffe tries putting a little more trust in this diner’s advertising than each of the establishments he tried earlier. ‘Best food this side of the Senate District!’ A tagline like that would have to do a lot of heavy lifting for a greasy diner in a dilapidated industrial area. 

Inside, the diner has been furnished with several deep booths with shiny red seats as well as a long countertop that offers a glimpse into the kitchen through a narrow viewport. The decor is a mix of chrome and neon. While it’s perhaps not what Wolffe would call his favorite style, he had to give whoever ran the place credit for a cohesive, and constant, theme. 

This place looks like it hasn’t changed in years. Too often, Wolffe finds once-favorite establishments rehauling their menus, revamping the theme, gutting whatever charm the place had between his deployments. It’s a damn shame. Corsucant changes too quickly top-side; all of it fueled on someone else’s pursestrings, no doubt. 

Noticing his arrival, a WA-7 waitress droid, idly chatting with a pre-dawn client, pardons herself to welcome the prospective customer. Assuming he’ll be subjected to a facial recognition scan, Wolffe holds himself in near-militant attention until the droid speaks. 

“Welcome to Dex’s Diner! What can I get for you, hon?”

The first question he has for the waitress is the state of the diner’s caf. 

“Is your caf instant?”

The droid’s feminine programming and friendly inflection does its best to make up for an inability to smile. (He finds it a little unsettling all the same.)

“It’s brewed in-house, every hour on the hour.” 

Wolffe regards a small chronometer on the wall, displaying what his body-chrono already knows. Just a half-hour before dawn. Perfect. Depending on how far away Fox is, it shouldn’t take long for his vod to find his way here. Coruscant had been under the watchful eye and capable hand of the crimson commander very shortly after the start of the war; if anyone knew their way around this massive labyrinth of a planet, it would be Fox. 

“Good enough.” Wolffe says with a thankful nod. “Saves me the trouble of finding another place.”

“Looking for something to eat?”

“Not exactly. I’m supposed to meet with someone.” he explains, sending the name of the diner to Fox’s comlink while the WA-7’s back is to him, asking him to follow behind. She’s got just the spot for him. 

She shows Wolffe to a booth in the back-left corner, where he can already tell at a glance that the padding under the seat material is worn thin and unevenly. (Well, he’s sat in worse seats.) It’s secluded, just enough, that it should afford him and his brother a little more privacy. He unseals his helmet as quietly as he can to avoid disturbing the other patrons, and sets the sunbonnet down on the table. 

“Your business isn’t our business,” the droid promises to Wolffe’s great confusion as he works to seat himself as gracefully as possible with the kama, “so rest assured that whoever you’re meeting, we won’t tell a soul.” 

“Okay… I appreciate that.” 

Wolffe straightens out his modified phase two helmet on the tabletop, dismissing the waitress’s offer to get him something to start with while he waits. Glass of Jawa Juice, perhaps? It’s a house special. 

A mash of bantha hide and fermented grain so early in the morning doesn’t sound particularly appealing. 

“Nothing right now, thank you.”

The WA-7 nodded. “Suit yourself, hon. Give a holler when you’re ready.”

It wouldn’t be long from now. Fox had sown the seeds for a system the Corries called ‘Zeros and Fives’ when it came to meeting their vode for non-military matters. Seeking out Fox for answers wasn’t technically an emergency, but it should hopefully be treated with a little more urgency seeing as Wolffe couldn’t wait around all morning. With the General’s help, he had to fabricate time-sensitive duties to excuse his presence on Coruscant earlier than expected. 

Some poodoo about retrieving something-or-other under the General’s orders. Records of research from the Chief Librarian of the Jedi Archives, Jocasta Nu. 

Records of what kind of research, he wasn’t sure. 

That comes later. Now, he was waiting for Fox.  Wolffe checks his comlink for any response to his choice of locale, finding only a silent ‘Seen’ status. Well, he’ll take it to mean his vod won’t be waving down the suggestion.

With little more than his comlink and the datafile to keep him occupied, the flint gray commander settled in for what could end up being a long wait in the event Fox ran into trouble on patrol. How long he would end up waiting would be inconsequential, so long as he got answers and insight to the root of this tragedy. Something to rationalize the reality of losing brothers to something other than Separatists and their sympathizers. 

He just had to ask himself why he was doing this. Why he cared so much, what he hoped to find. Maybe even who he was doing all this for. 

Was it for Fox, hoping to get ahead of the inevitable boiling point the rumors might reach?

Was it for Captain Rex, finding some shred of information that may bring closure to the death of one of his best men?

Was it for Fives, given the death of an ARC trooper was no insignificant thing? Was he hoping to find reason, or just cause?

Or was it for his own morbid curiosity, given other details of the deceased’s service file?

Commander Wolffe couldn’t be certain until his brother was dragging his over-caffeinated carcass through the doors of the diner, and down to the last booth on the left. He couldn’t be certain Fox would be forthcoming with those answers, either. Or the state the other commander would be in. 

Fifteen minutes before the next hourly pot of caf is made, Fox shuffles into the diner, quiet and wordless. Not in the sense of stoicism; rather fatigue. Ignoring the greetings of the waitstaff, he walks himself down to the booth once he’s found Wolffe in his visor. Like his fellow commander, Fox’s helmet remains over his head until he reaches the table, at which point he unseals, and drops it with a dull thud half an inch over the table. 

“Good to see you, Fox.” Wolffe says.

That was a lie. Perhaps only partially. He wished if he was paying the crimson commander a visit here on Coruscant, it would have been under better circumstances. With better beverages as well. The last time Wolffe had seen his brother, he was promised a splash of spotchka and the opportunity to properly talk about the Abregado disaster when next they met. To mourn the loss of Wolffe’s men and the change to his armor. They started this war named after members of the Canidae and painted in beautiful shades of red. 

Now they were just a couple of canines. 

Fox makes no immediate greeting. With a tired grumble, he drops into the booth, a small betrayal to the tireless façade the Corries had come to be known for. 

“Sorry to make you wait,” he says at last, propping his elbows on the table as he begins rubbing one bleary eye, “Patrol took longer to button up than anticipated.”

“That’s fine.” Wolffe replied, just relieved the other canine commander was here. 

Doing her rounds, the same service droid as before approaches the brothers’ booth and asks if they’d like anything to eat while they conduct their business. (She doesn’t suggest Jawa Juice this time.) Wolffe takes her up on the offer for the freshest cups of caf that would be ready not too long from now. Just as the droid goes to send in the order to the back-of-house, she takes another look at Fox— currently in the process of falling asleep at the table —and thinks better of it. 

“... I’ll tell Dex to make it a carafe.”

When the caf is prepared, instead of sending it out with the service droid, FLO, Dex himself brings it out from the kitchen to the front-of-house. 

And Dex had certainly not been what Wolffe imagined him to look like. 

Standing roughly 1.88 meters tall by the commander’s estimation, the owner of the diner was a heavyset Beskalisk who wore an ill-fitting, heavily stained white shirt and apron that had certainly seen better days. Making use of the four arms in his possession, Dex carried the carafe with the lower set, and a pair of mugs in a third, upper hand. 

Wolffe hides any surfacing unease after meeting the owner’s eye by fixing Fox’s helmet beside his own to clear space on the table. He came here to question his brother about an ARC trooper’s death over a decent cup of caf; he didn’t expect to be reminded of someone who put his brothers of the GAR through a gruesome campaign on the lightless word of Umbara. 

A Force-wielding Besalisk named Pong Krell had tricked the 501st and 212th into turning their blasters on each other some time ago. His style of leadership was firm, his fighting form aggressive. Krell’s war record boasted several successes at the bloody cost of countless Clone casualties; the highest of any Jedi. Having been seduced by the allure of rising power, he betrayed the Order, the Republic, and weaponized the absolute loyalty of the men under his command. 

It would be Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase of the 501st’s bravest blue to defy orders and take stolen ships to cripple enemy forces. They proved successful, though only Fives and Jesse would return. Krell had tried to order their execution as a result of this disobedience. But brothers in blue and orange mutinied against the fallen Jedi, and attempted his arrest. Once they managed to capture him, Krell had been interrogated and his treasonous plot was brought into the light. 

Fives had been faced with the business end of a blaster at the hands of his own brothers twice. 

He only survived it once. 

Wolffe could only hope Fives’ mortal remains were being treated with far more respect than whatever had been afforded to Krell. 

One thing was soon clear at least, the longer the diner’s owner was working to serve them the fresh caf: Dex was nothing like Krell, save for being a Besalisk. 

Dex was far kinder, friendlier. 

He first poured out a generous portion for Wolffe, chuckling warmly as he spoke. “You’ll want to be careful, gentlemen. Quite hot. Should do a fine job of perking you right up, though!” Wolffe was sure to thank Dex before carefully kicking his brother’s boot under the table to stir him. Fox hadn’t fallen asleep, but he certainly was heading in that direction the longer he sat in the booth. 

Tiredly scrubbing a hand over his face in an effort to wake up, Fox took hold of the mug that had been carefully pushed in his direction by the four-armed cook. 

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it! Matter of fact, I’ll leave the rest with you two and let you get about your business.” Dex carefully set the metal carafe on the tabletop and lumbered back into the kitchen, as promised. 

Together, the commanders would take their first sampling of the diner’s caf; Wolffe found it of decent quality, nothing more. There was nothing special that set it apart from other diners, but it was a step above the instant powder in his and his men’s rations. 

Fox on the other hand drank like the caf was no milder than water. Maker. That couldn’t be healthy. Once the mug had been lowered for a suitable amount of time, Wolffe voiced the first of his concerns. 

“When’s the last time you slept, vod?”

With a heavy exhale, Fox set down the mug and leaned against the backrest. “Same time as the rest of Coruscant.” he said, too focused on the patternless web of scratches in the table to see the displeased furrowing of his brother’s brow. 

“Coruscant never sleeps. Are you telling me you’re running on empty?”

“No. I just don’t remember, cub.” 

Wolffe grit his teeth, full lips pursing as his displeasure deepened. This was no time for the kit-and-cub routine they had developed fresh off Kamino, possessing a curiously bright-eyed quality that would be lost before long. This was serious. All of this was serious, and Fox is choosing now to be sarcastic and apathetic with him?

He has to stop and take a measured breath before acting on any kind of anger. Should he be short with Fox, Wolffe’s opportunity to get sensible answers might slip between his fingers. So instead, he nurses his mug of caf before saything or asking anything else. Maybe it’ll help him hold on to his tether a little longer if he combats his own budding fatigue. Crossing several galactic timezones in order to get to the heart of the Republic could make even the most tireless of men weary. 

Settled, Wolffe begins again. “What do you remember about last night?” A glance is cast over their helmets; the thought of scrubbing through helmet footage flickers in his mind. 

“Might need to be more specific,” Fox replies, wantonly tracing the rim of his mug with his forefinger. “What part of last night are you asking about?”

“The part that ended with a dead ARC trooper.”

For a moment, the other commander remained unnaturally still, and equally quiet. Now that the reason behind the visit Wolffe was paying him had been revealed, Fox felt the atmosphere of the diner tangibly shift. So that’s what this visit Wolffe was paying him was about. He was aware from the beginning Wolffe was coming all the way to Triple Zero to question him; not the subject matter of these questions. 

It was time to establish a baseline for the brothers. 

“What have you heard?”

Propping up the datafile, Wolffe presents the timeline as he understands it. 

Alongside the Kaminoan Nala Se and General Shaak Ti, ARC trooper Fives had traveled to Coruscant from the Clone homeworld and met with Chancellor Palpatine at the Grand Republic Medical Facility. Shortly upon their arrival, Fives presented a potential Separatist plot that he believed responsible for the death of a trooper by the name of Tup to General Ti, the Chief Medical Scientist, and Palpatine. Agreeing to hear him out, Fives was granted limited audience with the Chancellor. 

Per protocol, shock troopers and the Red Guard remained in the room when Palpatine requested to speak “alone” with Fives. This meant when the Chancellor was suddenly attacked, the response was almost immediate. 

Under threat of apprehension, Fives would escape the Medical Facility, and remain unaccounted for for some time before making contact with a member of Torrent Company - namely their medic, Kix. Coordinates would be given to a location on Level 1325 with the request General Skywalker and Captain Rex meet him there, as soon as possible, and importantly, alone. His commanding officers would go to Hangar 18 in Sector I-9, where Fives had been spotted by a probe droid, and find themselves caught in a ray shield. 

While effectively at his mercy, Fives would tell his commanding officers he had been set up, framed, before the arrival of the Corries. 

“Did you hear anything Fives might have said when you arrived with the Guard?”

Fox, just about to take a drink, paused. “Not everything.” Once they had made it inside the warehouse, he and his men were more concerned with finding safe cover before moving into action.

A minor tell of annoyance, the twitching of the scarred brow over his brother’s cybernetic eye, did not go unnoticed by the red commander. 

“Obviously. But what did you hear?”

“General Skywalker questioned why his ARC trooper believed the Chancellor was capable of orchestrating this… Separatist plot when an assassination attempt had failed. Said the Chancellor was incapable, though his soldier insisted.” Fox replied, considering the dregs in his mug for the moment before pouring himself another serving.

“At what point did you step in?”

Not long after, his vod tells him. 

“His back was to us. Didn’t see us draw our DeeCees.”

“Why didn’t you stun him?” Wolffe nearly demands. 

Fives had been declared a fugitive, the commander understood that. When he had taken part in the manhunt for Ahsoka Tano following the declaration of her own fugitive status following the bombing of the Jedi Temple and death of a suspect, Letta Turmond, it had been under orders. Tano had been a dear friend to General Plo; the Kel Dor often spoke so kindly of her… she had saved his life in the aftermath of Abregado.

But given the evidence at the time, he believed she was the primary suspect behind the blast that had killed Clones, maintenance workers and six Jedi, and left many more injured. A belief that would be buried once he heard General Skywalker had found and brought the true perpetrator before those who put the Togruta on trial. Firing upon someone he cared about, in his own fashion, while she was dazed and unarmed, would be the last time Wolffe ever saw Tano. 

The guilt still gnaws at him.

Maybe if they had taken Fives alive, the real perpetrator could have been discovered. Like Barriss Offee had been.

“Why,” he repeats himself, determined to break Fox’s continued silence, “Tell me why, Fox.”

“We didn’t exactly have much of a choice, Wolffe. I ordered him to stand down, warned him not to do it; but he drew a nearby weapon. He was acting erratically.”

Fox had to make a split-second decision with highly volatile variables at play; the way he had been trained. The way both of them had been trained. Trained to make the tough calls that came with the lofty status as Marshal Commanders, before Wolffe had been stripped of such a rank. Robbed of the red. 

It would be replaced with gray, to honor and remember the dead. 

The innumerable, tragic dead. 

Try as they might, the Kaminoans could never hope to train the sting of a brother’s tragic death out of the men of the GAR. 

Following a break to use the diner’s refreshers and collect themselves, the commanders return to the table, making use of limited time before Wolffe is supposed to act upon new military-wide orders from General Plo. 

“What orders?” Fox asks, brow pinched in confusion. 

He hadn’t seen any such notification. Just a report from Thire and Thorn that more surveillance footage had been acquired of the events from last night; they now had an answer for how ARC trooper Fives avoided the shock troopers checking IDs in the Clone bar. A damn hat given to him by a corporal from another unit, of all things. 

“I’m supposed to report to the nearest Republic med center to receive some kind of vaccination. For a parasite.” 

Continuing to read the message on his comlink, Wolffe learns soldiers on other planets will need to await the arrival of the inoculation that was being mass-produced to protect every Clone, whether their deployment was peaceful, or on the front lines. 

“They… think some kind of rare parasite native to Ringo Vinda was responsible for what happened to Tup. For the behavior Fives displayed before you-” 

Something about this didn’t feel quite right. 

This answer was too convenient. How was it possible that a parasite was missed by the Chief Medical Scientist during Tup’s thorough examination on Kamino, but discovered by the Chancellor’s personal doctors in a rushed autopsy? (They had been thorough, right?) How did invasive organisms cause these “aggression inhibitors” to decay? How many more men of the 501st Legion were potentially infected, and how did the organism spread? Something about this wasn’t adding up. 

Maybe by asking the shock troopers who had been present during the conversation Fives had with the Chancellor, he could find something they missed; maybe they had heard something-

“ -ffe. Wolffe,” 

Failing to get the flint-gray commander’s attention, Fox has reached across the table and taken hold of his hand just as he finds it beginning to tremble. Minor stress tremors such as these have plagued him since the ill-fated naval battle, though they’ve been dormant for a long time with a combination of strict rest and discipline. And typically, they’re almost unnoticeable. 

But Fox has always had sharp eyes with even sharper ears. 

“When’s the last time you slept?”

A slow burning behind his eyes—the feeling stronger on the right—served as an uncomfortable reminder that he had been unable to find much meaningful rest after hearing what happened in Coruscant’s sub-levels. Another brother’s tragic, untimely death. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes and rid himself of the discomfort, Wolffe instead returns the steady squeeze rather than pulling away. 

Voice soft, he heaves a quiet sigh. 

“Not recently enough, kit.”

Perhaps it was his own fatigue that had him jumping to absurd conclusions. The demise of an elite ARC trooper had reminded him of his own heavy losses, and his composure was beginning to suffer for it. That was unacceptable. He needed to sleep. Both of them needed to sleep. 

But more importantly, Wolffe needed to leave. He had a set time to arrive at the med center by, and it would be imprudent to be late. Gathering the datafile, his comlink, and his helmet, Wolffe took one last gulp of caf before standing to bid his brother farewell. 

Then, he had an idea. 

“Maybe… after I’ve gotten the inoculation, we should both crash in your quarters for an hour if you’ve still got that shitty old couch stuffed in there since the last time I saw you.”

Fox chuckled, a lazy smirk settling over his features. 

“It’s still there and shittier than ever,” the crimson commander promised, “Been too busy to remove it.”

Wolffe resealed his helmet so Fox wouldn’t see the grim smile, one grateful for the meager space to sleep and troubled by the responsibilities his brother has had to shoulder that have kept him so busy, he can’t rearrange a stained sofa. 

It was no wonder Fox was sporting some silver around his temples prematurely. It probably wouldn’t be long before Wolffe’s own raven-dark hair did the same, given his own burdens and losses. This war would make old dogs out of both of them. 

Assuming they lived long enough to see the supposed end of it. After all, only the dead will ever see the true end of war. 

And that was a tragedy for the living.

Thank you for making such a uniquely heart-breaking request for this event Maia; I hope I did these canine commanders justice and made it appropriately angsty enough. I hope you enjoyed! 🩷

Fic taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636

[Masterlist] [TCW Masterlist] [Taglist] [Requests: OPEN]

[paulgadzikowski]

The Hero of Three Faces is fanfiction crossovers, but it’s comic strips with stick figures, but they’re triangles. Click here for cartoon homepage. Or see this blog’s FAQ, or my archive tumblog’s FAQ. Cartoons may contain unmarked spoilers. Cartoons posted to Tumblr 11:00 (Central US time) daily are the previous day’s new update and the posts are pinned to the top of this blog. Cartoons linked from Tumblr 22:00 daily are usually from the archive and the posts are pinned only during annual summer hiatus of new updates; but archive cartoon postings currently are temporarily suspended, and the 11:00 new cartoon post, if any, is reblogged at 22:00.

Only some of these link posts have dialog transcripts (and instead of full image descriptions like they once had) because in early 2025 I was obliged to streamline the housekeeping procedures for producing mostly daily comic strips, in aid of avoiding burnout on doing daily cartoons at all. I apologize for the conflict in accomodation needs. Dialog transcription: A I'm just as crap at being a security consultant as any human. I enjoyed having humans listen to me for once, I wanted to work in a group again, I put my need to get to RaviHyral above their safety. The augmented human security consultant I was pretending to be wouldn't have done that. All this is true. I won't call it a learning experience because you're not ready to hear that yet. B You just did, assho But you're not looking at the big picture. You're not looking at the positives. C What positives? Despite your mistakes and theirs, and despite the intent and the considerable and concerted efforts of their enemies, none of your clients died. Also, you achieved their goal of retrieving their datafiles. Finally, none of them died. D You counted that one twice. It's worth two.

Thanks for reading.

[traegorn]

hey! pagan here! you have the political knowledge of a fourth grader. please consider reading some theory before expounding on liberal taking points that are utterly useless.

So the other day I was fucking your dad while your mom was watching. He wasn't saying much on account of the ball gag, but she was asking me some questions about youth voter turnout for some reason. Mostly she wanted to know why 18-24 year olds seem so much less likely to vote than those 25 and older.

I started to explain, while really giving it to your Dad, that the main reason folks that young don't vote, contrary to popular belief, ends up being habit more than anything else.

As I started to give your dad the reach around, I explained that if we pull up something like the American National Election Studies Cumulative Datafile and do a historical comparison to twenty-one to twenty-seven year olds prior to the passage of the twenty-sixth amendment we see similar pattern to eighteen to twenty-four year olds post twenty-sixth.

Your mom then asked if that held up for midterm elections, and I pointed out that our data's not as solid with the ANES file for midterms, but yeah it seems to.

Anyways, that's when your Dad came and your mom paid me my fifty bucks and I left.

[merijem]

I have my Main Murder Drones Au called "MurderGlitch" basically whit my own ocs added to the story, its almoste like the original but diffrent scenes and moments happen.And yes itll alsp continew having more chapters (ill prob write stories in wattpad bc rn i dont trust a03 atm) like almoste continew after season 1 ended (i wish season 2 existed lol, the show was kinda rushed in my opinion BUT notherless, i loved it ^-^) also my au has more copper planets whit each ocs bing split there and their own show stories to begin so basically, my au is like cartoon network, many shows whit many stories to read! Thats same whit my project whit me in it named "my world" lol

Anyways

Here is my redesigned murder drones persona Meri Wither (Copper 9) (more ocs coming soon)

Here is extra info.

[Datafile is a private program that ONLY I CAN USE please dont add it on ur oc, its really breaking my boundaries.]

[Funfacts]

1. Uzi gifted her backpack to meri

2. Uzi doesnt consider meri as one of the humans because she calls her more of "Your the cooler version of humans...or whataver- bite me!"

3. she bites uzi's arm whenever she says bite me lol

4. Uzi often uses meri as a dummy because meri can always Regenerate! which why she considers meri as a cooler human and not the boring ROBOT racists one (thats how i see uzi rn lmao)

5. Meri only eats apples, thats why they keep a tree apple inside the bunker because she will go feral of hunger, causing dronelism (yes she can eat thro drones) again- (AGAIN?!)

6.She and uzi went together undercover outside the bunker.

7.Meri doesnt talk but others get shocked when she does due to her voice lmao, sometimes she can break her character (this is so canon im sorry-)

8. meri is like undertale realistic frisk at this point lmao-

9. She has NO fear, all she wants are awnsers on what happend to the humans, what happend here, why is there chaos lingering, why is solver like this and shiet.

10. Meri only smiles small times when u generally make her feel hope/happy, its rlly rare to see that.

11. Despite almoste everything is a copy, she has some realism in her, tho no one knows not even mr.wither.

12.Cried when she found her dad again alive and...well..alive i think? he was stuck in the underground lab whit his leg, luckily it healed later.

13.She doesnt use solver, she has much greater power than that, the datafile. (thanks to xiana)

14.She can Regenerate easily as purple flowers grow to form out her body whit purple goop, her inside has INFINITE organic organs all together, except there is only ONE beating heart...whit purple flowers around.

15.she has a notebook she writes and draws, stickers too!

16.Xiana lives whitin her..Can take control whit enough force and the reason meri has datafile powers whitin her body.Whenever meri goes into coma state, xiana rips from her back and controls the powers and corpse.

17. The only time she actully laughs/gives a chuckle is when uzi tells an insulting joke (not a pun, generall a joke that is insulting, like frisk and sans lol)

18. Adopted V's copy kid after V died, she felt bad.

19. Has other adopted kids.

20. Fan of Angry birds and undertale

21. She finds out her 2 adopted siblings are alive and later will meet them, growin more healed and more socializing...

22. Wondering where her two twin sister's she had are, as theyre still missing. (Biological siblings, Mia and Mai)

23. Has a drone sister which ms.rosetta adopted before she was borned and when she was found in copper 9, Khan took her in. (Cynal)

24.Wears a bow gifted by cyn long ago.

25. Has hair bc its manly idk, they are a quite a wierd kid.

26.Never reveals their eyes.

27. Wants to know where the missing kids are.

28. From Copper 9

Crush: Allie/SD A1 ane Vix (theyre both 13 aswell, allie was programmed and designed as 13, please dont be wierd people...)

close: Cyn, SD J, Uzi, Cynal, SD V, kiddo's she adopted, SD C/Cally, [Deviltech!] Cally, Geno-7, Khan & Nori, Lizzy & Thad, The Teacher (good chill teacher), Ms.Rosetta (Biological Mom), Mr.Wither (Biological Father), Ms.Sunshine (her aunt), Sabe & Sandra, SD-Galaxy (by MilkyDV) Tessa & Jessa, SD CB1, Tom X1, SD Sky (By MilkyDV), Xiana & Datafile (despite how shes paranoided and anxious they seem still to be..her friends she had when she was alone.), Raptors (she finds em cute and befriended some), Atta [001], The Crying Lady (TCL), SD A2, SD A3, SD F and Proto, SD Rose, CyberCore, Ollie, Andro (hes adorable :3) (by geno), Endro (hes funny) (by geno), Jauto (Likes learning new things by him) (by geno), Nameless (actully gets along whit the living void, the existance itself-), Sabre, Axolotle,

cool frendos: Artzy, Angelic (Good divine light that angels adore heaven smth, shes cool and chill), Anneliese (By Ghost), SD XR1 Ezekiel & SD HA3 (By Kuwa), Oyasumi, Maki (by lex),

netruel: Adam, Alice, Matthew, Victor (all by adam), Lex, Others

Enemies: those who get in her way and will not hesitate to kill them.

Some names are my friends ocs.

Datafile is the first program i made before other programs were made when i first saw absolute solver.

Will explain more about datafile soon.

Uptade: shes born as a diformed child, thats why shes considered as genderless, uses any pronounces aswell has hair around his body.

Template design made by my friend Sha.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

OC Sundays: Cerra Kilian GAR Datafile

Please click for better resolution bc Tumblr is Tumblr.

I've been waiting to share this until I had all posted all the chapters of Stars Beyond Number that could possibly be spoiled, but I'm finally ready to share Cerra's official GAR personnel file!

Transcript below the cut:

GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC

Personnel Datafile

Name: Kilian, Cerra Rank: Lieutenant, first class Identifying number: SO-3283627 Duty assignment: Supply officer, Ro-Ti-Mundi, Open Circle Fleet Status: AWOL

Service Record

Prior service: Corellian military defense force - 10 years [converted] Commendations: Senate medal of valor Qualifications: Close combat - armed; Close combat - unarmed; Marksmanship Medical record: Shrapnel - lateral and anterior thigh; Post-traumatic stress; Panic disorder Remarks: C.M.D.F. position converted following establishment of G.A.R. Assigned to 501st legion - V.C.S.D. Resolute. Awarded Senate medal of valor in recognition of heroic actions at Battle of Sullust. Transferred to V.C.S.D. Ro-Ti-Mundi following battle of Sullust. Reported absent without leave following battle of Coruscant. Current whereabouts unknown.

---

I used this picrew to make Cerra's ID holo. I didn't crop out the watermark, BTW; one of the transparent backgrounds they provide is watermark-free.

Ragu list:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade

[sours-grab-bag]

Fake Fine - Amnesia

[socksbro1]

Date: April 9th, 2025

Manacite

I believe I have discovered magic. In our search for materials, I found one I had to test, even if it wouldn’t have been useful. Material 5EAA, added in 2.E.11, and removed in 2.4A32.5122D.02, is a material that contains an energy I believe to be mana. The energy is only described slightly, and it refers to a help page even Gede doesn’t have clearance for. It seems that this energy was one of the defining features of Simulation v2, and I am interested in how it might work.

I made sure there were no warnings, and everything checks out. I’m unsure of how this would work, but that’s what experiments are for!

Update: it… didn’t exactly work. When I attempted to spawn in a cube, the checking program crashed halfway through the process. The Cube still spawned, but Gede was out cold for a few hours.

The DataFile for the Cube was constantly pinging type 1 and 2 errors, but it wasn’t fixing itself. After testing I determined the material was safe to touch, and was able to move it somewhere manually.

The Cube looked like a blue crystal, and inside, the strange energy swirled. The energy itself was odd, swirling, but stuttering, and occasionally changing to a bright red reminiscent of the error messages it seemed to generate. When I touched the cube, the energy seemed to pull towards my hand, but never very close.

If I was able to shrink the Cube the way I normally do, I would see if I could put it on my nightstand. As is, I have mostly set it aside for later experiments.

Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to make do with altering reality via code, rather than with magic.

Pleasant day,

Tester

[archiesonicforever]

Archie Sonic Forever update!

A trio of datafiles closes out issue one.

https://archiesonicforever.com/comics/issue/1/page/14/

And issue two begins with a five page update!

https://archiesonicforever.com/comics/issue/2/page/0/

[sonicblueartist]

Unfortunatally I'm going to take my books on hiatus. Me and my team working on a sonic original comic and it take nearly all of our times. And we are still searching for new members to work with us...

Voice actors, illustrators, one person who will help us with the story/script editor, (the illustrators will be divided into a few people anyway, inker, penciler, colorist, layout artist, datafile artist), a few people interested in music and one more video editor. That would be great.

But if you think you can't do any of it, a like and sub would be great to show us your support also!

I already have all the links in my bio but here you go

Our youtube

Discord

[slayerdurge]

Secure Your Soul: A Cyberpunk 2077 Fanfiction

This fic was previously published under the title “Before the Event Horizon.”

Summary: Six months ago, V’s boss at Arasaka ordered her to assassinate his rival. Instead, with the reluctant but invaluable help of her old friend Jackie Welles, she pushed them both off their thrones and claimed one for herself. Now the new Director of Arasaka Counter Intel has a problem. She’s uncovered information that indicates that Yorinobu Arasaka, the heir apparent to the Arasaka dynasty, is a traitor. But without solid proof, she’s forced to take matters into her own hands.

An AU in which Corpo!V never leaves Arasaka.

CHAPTER FIVE: THE MISSION

[read on ao3]

SIX YEARS EARLIER

V sat in a parked car and discreetly watched the windows of the hotel across the street through her Kiroshi. Assuming the rookie techie they’d partnered her with had done his job properly, this was the place where she’d find her mark. 

Not that V wasn’t technically a rookie herself. She’d only been working for Arasaka for a few months. But she came from a legacy family—both her parents had been Arasaka employees—and she’d attended Arasaka Academy for the last four years and transferred directly into Counter Intel post-graduation. The job fit her like it was made for her. Or, more accurately, it fit her because she had been made for it. 

On the other hand, Carter Smith, the techie in question… he was a smart guy, but too squeamish by far. V didn't understand reluctant corpos—if working for Arasaka hadn’t struck her as the best thing she could be doing with her life, she wouldn’t have done it.

But if he had successfully tracked the target, he was worth something. She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. For now. 

As she watched the hotel, V mentally reviewed the details of her case. Stephen Blackburn—a former Arasaka employee, pissed off that he hadn't been able to cut it in the corpo world—had made off with a datafile full of dirt on his former bosses. She knew the type. Jaded risk-takers with nothing left to lose. Dangerous because they were desperate, but predictable too. 

Blackburn wasn't her direct opponent here, though. She knew from Smith’s interception of his messages that he'd hired a merc to transport a laptop with the data on it for him. A merc whose identity was still unknown. V didn't like that. She planned better when she could analyze her enemy. So she waited outside the hotel, hoping to catch a glimpse of him long enough to ascertain his identity. 

Her patience paid off. Forty minutes into her stake-out, a curtain moved in the top floor window of the building—in exactly the room that Smith had claimed was occupied by her target. She quickly zoomed in that direction. There. A face glancing furtively out at the street. Gone almost as soon as she’d spotted it, but her optics had been fast enough to grab a scan. If he had an NCPD record… and, as it turned out, he did. The relevant file popped up in the side of her vision. A surprisingly short rap sheet, starting with a carjacking when he was fifteen. The record identified him as Jackie Welles.

Hmm. An interesting coincidence. She recognized the name. The associated image, too, though of course he was older now. After her parents had died in the line of duty, but before Arasaka had offered her a spot at the Academy, she’d been forced to spend a couple of miserable years at a public junior high. He’d been one of her classmates there.

She even recalled attending his birthday party in eighth grade. One of those patronizing "everyone is invited" affairs. Truthfully, she’d only shown up to observe her classmates. Ever since she’d first arrived at the junior high from her high-end private elementary school, the other kids had baffled her. They’d spent far more time focused on the latest braindances and lazrpop songs than on their grades or futures. She’d figured that couldn’t be all they cared about, and she’d made a point of attending every social event she could score an invitation to until she figured out what truly motivated them. 

She’d learned a lot of useful information. Most scrawny thirteen-year-olds in Heywood, with no cyberware but a pair of Kiroshi, had to worry about potential abuse leveled at them from their classmates. Not V. It was amusing how easily bullies could be managed when you knew all the dirty family secrets that drove them to pick on those they assumed were weaker than them.  

She’d even used her Kiroshi to record all those social events she’d attended. She still had the recordings in her personal archive. V was in the habit of never deleting any of her data, no matter how old. Her experiences, even the ones she’d loathed living through, had shaped her into who she was today. Those memories were hers, and she wanted them kept safe.  

So then… what could they help her recall about Jackie Welles? She pulled up her archive and set the date range to May of ‘63. She located the recording of the party on the 26th of that month and clicked play. Suddenly, she was thirteen again, looking out at the past through her own eyes.

She sat in a bright red plastic chair in the corner of a crowded living room. It was abuzz with the sounds of children—laughing, talking, shouting, and eating. She watched as teenage V zoomed her Kiroshi towards her priority targets and lingered there one by one. She waited until teenage V focused on Jackie. He’d never been a problem for her, but considering it was his party, she’d still taken the chance to learn what she could about him.

There he was, surrounded by his family—a deeply affectionate mother and more brothers than was reasonable. No father. He’d been admitted to the hospital the year prior and had never returned to the Welles household. V had suspected that either Jackie or one of his brothers were responsible for that. She hadn’t missed the improvement in the Welles boys’ temperament after their father was gone. She’d bet he probably deserved it. He’d been a Valentino of the old-school variant, the kind who believed his word was law when it came to his family. Say what you will about modern Valentinos, but at least they’d left that mentality behind for the most part. 

It occurred to V that she’d seen a mention of the Valentinos in Jackie’s NCPD file. Originally, he’d been known to take on solo mercenary work, but he’d recently been flagged for involvement in gang activities. Had he decided to follow in the old man’s footsteps? Odds were his mother was sick with worry. A weak point if she'd ever seen one. 

An idea began to formulate in her mind.

She pulled up her optics' phonebook through the appropriate series of eye flicks, and called her techie. "Hey, Carter," she said when she received an answer. "Can you create a vocal modulator for me? Want to imitate a particular voice." 

"Sure thing. As long as you've got a sufficient sample."

"Think I should…" V began, pulling up the birthday video in her personal archives again. She identified a portion featuring a brief speech by Jackie's mother. Should be just long enough for her purposes. She forwarded it to Smith. "Will that work?"

"That's perfect," he said. "Give me a minute…" The voice on the line shifted. “All right, Jackie, time to blow out the candles, mijo.”

“Not bad, not bad. You sound just like her. In fact…” V grinned conspiratorially. “Feel like doing some role-playing?”

—

Getting into the building wasn’t difficult. V simply walked in and booked a room for herself. She asked for a room on the top floor, citing fear of a break-in as her excuse, in case the elevator was programmed to only allow access to the floor a guest was actually staying on. 

As she stepped out of the elevator on the top floor, she spoke quietly to Smith, whom she’d kept on the call, “Almost there. You clear on the plan?”

“Yep. I call his personal line, use the vocal modulator, and distract him long enough for you to grab the data and get out. No bloodshed for once.”

“That's the idea,” V confirmed. “No need for this to get messy.”

V turned the corner into the hallway that contained Jackie’s room and scanned the area for security cameras. There was just one, and it was situated in an obvious position near the top of the wall. Her optics were able to trace its trajectory in mere milliseconds, and they lit up its field of view for her so that she could pass by without being caught on video. 

“Almost there,” she told Smith. “And remember—don’t be afraid to scare him. If he’s not scared enough to get out of our way, we’ll have to take him down the old-fashioned way.”

“Understood.” 

“Good. Make the call in three minutes. I’m going silent.”

She was just outside the room now. She set her Kiroshi to thermal mode and spotted Jackie almost at once. He appeared to be sitting in a chair on the far side of the room.

V crouched and activated her optical camo. Her body vanished from sight, though of course, she was very much still detectable through a myriad of alternative methods. The thermal scanning she was using to keep track of Jackie, for one. But she didn’t plan to rely solely on the camo. 

Exactly three minutes later, she heard Jackie’s anxious, slightly muffled voice from the other side of the door. He was speaking Spanish. Interesting. Either Smith knew Spanish, or he’d set up a program that could translate his speech fast enough to sound natural. Generally, it was easier to translate for the listener, so most translation software didn’t bother with the other way around. She was pleasantly surprised that he’d exceeded her expectations. 

“Okay, okay, mamá,” Jackie was saying, as V’s cyberware translated. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

While Jackie was talking, V unlocked the door. It wasn’t difficult. The defenses were woefully outdated, and Jackie was making enough noise that it was unlikely he could hear the lock click.   

“Please, you have to calm down.” Jackie stood up and moved to the right side of the room, away from the desk. That was exactly what V had been waiting for. While he continued his increasingly impassioned pleas, V quietly pushed open the door.  

She immediately spotted the laptop on the desk on the left side of the room. Jackie himself was near the window where V had seen him the first time. His back was to the door. Perfect. 

She dashed toward the desk and stopped before the laptop, gazing at the screen. She considered grabbing it and getting out, but she needed to confirm that it had the data she was looking for or she might miss her best opportunity. So, despite the increased risk, she took the time to breach the laptop’s defenses.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jackie was explaining. “They wouldn’t do that. It must have been someone else.”

After a few agonizing seconds, V successfully accessed the data. It was all there. Everything she needed. Excellent.

Behind her, she heard the click of a trigger pressed partway down. An acidic voice filled the room. “What kinda sick fuck uses the sound of a man’s own mamá's voice against him?” 

V froze. Too slow. Bile-flavored dread rose in her throat, but she swallowed, pushing it down where it belonged. He hadn’t shot her yet. She still had a chance to talk her way out of this. She deactivated her optical camo. Slowly, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, you've got me,” she admitted. “Don't do anything rash. Let's talk. May I turn around?”

“Fine,” he growled softly.

Cautiously, avoiding any possible sign of aggression, V turned. The man she remembered as a constant optimist had clearly found some hidden stores of rage to draw from. He looked at her with open hatred, his gun pointed directly at the center of her forehead. 

“Now,” began Jackie Welles. “Do you have her? Do you have my mom?”

That explained the level of anger. For a second, V was torn. It could be useful to let him believe that, but it was likely more prudent to calm him down.

“I asked you a question, demoña.”

“No,” V stated clearly. “Nothing like that. I’m sure your mom is just fine. We don't have her. It’s just a vocal modulator.”

“You think I don’t fuckin’ know that?” He was nearly shouting now. “Can tell the difference between her and a stranger, even one that sounds just like her. But I know how that tech works. You need a voice sample to set one up. So how’d you know what she sounds like?” 

V felt a slight tremor of fear, mingled with excitement and appreciation. He'd been onto her all along. He was more astute that she’d given him credit for. This might actually be a fair match. “You and I, we went to middle school together. Eighth grade. I was at your thirteenth birthday party. Still happened to have the recording.”

“Eighth grade?” he said uncertainly. “I don't remember you.”

“That doesn't surprise me. I mostly kept to myself.”

“More like thought you were better than everyone else.”

“Ah.” V smiled slightly. “So you do remember me.”

“You trying to make me angry?” He moved slightly closer, still keeping his gun aimed steadily. A good sign. If he was trying to intimidate her, it was because her casual manner unnerved him. 

“No. The opposite, actually,” she said emphatically. “I’m trying to make you realize that we have a valuable and fleeting opportunity here.”

“There you go,” Jackie scoffed. “Always trying to make a deal. This isn't your office, demoña. I'm not your coworker.”

That much is obvious, V thought. She carried on regardless. “In about five minutes, my backup from Arasaka’s going to come through that door. Yes, you could kill me before then, but could you make it out in time? Could you hide the evidence that would allow them to find you again?”

“And what's your offer? Turn myself in? Surrender and maybe my punishment won't be that bad?”

“My offer is to let you go free.”

His shock made her smile again. No one could ever claim that she didn’t make reasonable deals.

“Let me go free? Just like that?”

“Indeed. With a guarantee of future protection from Arasaka’s wrath, assuming you don't antagonize us too badly. That's for letting me live.”

“A guarantee, huh?” He mocked her sales-pitch tone. ��So I'm meant to, what, take your word for it?”

“No. I’d never ask anyone to take me on faith,” she explained. “That data you've got, it's very valuable. Could ruin any number of my superiors. I'll have to take it back to Arasaka, of course. However, I'm willing to let you hold on to a copy.”

“You'd leave evidence behind? If your superiors find out, they'd kill you.” He emphasized the word ‘superiors’ with the same mocking tone.

“Exactly,” V stated proudly. 

He looked at her like she’d sprouted a second head. 

"If I try to betray you," V continued patiently, "all you need to do is leak enough data to make Arasaka realize I let you keep a copy. They'll zero me, but they'll come for you too. And if you betray me, I can initiate the same events in reverse order. Continued loyalty would be the safest, most logical choice for each of us."

"That your foundation for an alliance?" Jackie cried in exasperation, his gun never straying from its mark in the center of her forehead. "Mutually assured destruction?"

V kept her hands held up, but she dared to lift her chin. "Yes." She looked him steadily in the eyes. "Because it works.”

A loaded silence followed. 

“And that's for letting you live?”

“That's for letting me live,” V confirmed.

He was silent again. Then, slowly, he lowered his gun. “Okay. Deal.”

“Excellent.” V lowered her hands just as slowly. “I’ll copy the data right now.” 

She turned back to the laptop, plugged in one of her extra empty datashards, and began the duplication process. She noted Jackie watching her movements closely. She kept her hands open and within his field of view, so he’d know she wasn’t trying to sabotage anything. As the loading screen appeared, she said to him, “There's more we can offer each other, if you’re interested.” 

“More? This ain’t enough for you?” His initial answer came quickly. But after a second, he sighed and added, “Like what?”

“You’re new to the Valentinos, right? Got contacts there. Could pull some strings. Keep you safe, help you rise.”

“Valentinos wouldn't make deals with ‘Saka.”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes,” he insisted. “Honor means something to 'em.”

“Honor means something to us too, Jackie.”

“Right.” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

The loading screen reached a hundred percent. She unplugged the datashard and handed it to him, then closed the laptop and placed it under her arm. “Think about it,” she told him as she pulled out one of her business cards. “Here's my contact info.”

He took the datashard from her and plugged it into the port in his head, confirming that everything he needed was on it. Then he took her business card. “Okay. I'll think about it.” He started to turn away, but then he paused and asked her, “What about Blackburn?”

It took her a second to place the name. “The guy who hired you? He's a dead man. But you don't care about him.”

“How would you know?” 

She chuckled slightly. “If you did, you'd have brought him up way earlier.” 

Jackie scoffed. “Sheesh. Cinco minutos we’ve been talking and you think you know me already.”

V didn’t respond. He hadn’t denied it. 

“What would you want?” he asked bluntly, dropping the thread of the previous conversation. “For the protection?”

V smiled. She’d guessed he’d be interested in that offer. He was a man driven by competing goals—he wanted to stay safe for his mother, but he also wanted his chance at becoming a Night City legend. He’d probably agonized for years over which path to follow. And she’d just offered him a way to do both. “That’s easy. I’d want you to keep that data safe. In case I have a misunderstanding with a superior some day and need to settle the matter properly. But that’s an issue for the future. Right now, you should leave. They’ll be here soon. Go on. I’ll make sure they don’t come after you.”

He nodded at her and walked out. V let out a breath and leaned her back against the wall, allowing herself a brief moment of celebration. Nothing like a brush with death to make you remember you’re alive.

“That was kind of you, V,” said a soft voice in her ear. “Protecting him like that. Instead of solving all your problems with violence.”

“Carter—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Someone’s gotta keep our bosses on their toes, don’t you think? Over and out.” 

He disconnected the call. V smiled to herself in amusement. He’d called her kind. It was strange the way people's minds worked. But she didn't have time to dwell on that now. She gripped the laptop tightly and left the room, already planning what she'd say when she brought in the data but not the merc that should have gone with it. 

Letting him go hadn’t been her original plan, but she had to admit she’d wanted a copy of that data since she’d found out about it. It was far too dangerous to keep on her person, or leave unguarded in any of her safehouses, or entrust to any ally that could be traced back to her. But Jackie Welles… who would ever guess the two of them were working together? As long as she could keep him in line—and she believed she could—she could even send him updates as she collected new intel, growing his database of Arasaka’s dirty secrets but making sure they were used only when she wanted them used.

She smiled to herself again. This might be the start of a lucrative partnership.

[perditus]

|| muse stuff : tweaked some muse stuff since ive been able to go back and playthrough and make adjustments i like. also teia is going to be older, the datafiles say one thing but that also doesn't feel correct to me since she made talon at 28 ||