#I might watch the vod tomorrow if I remember to

[pronounrespector]

I'm really glad I'm not home today to watch q's response, I'm reading the posts about what he's saying and I'm already fuming

[my-lunaberg]

OKAYYYYYYYY okay, Im about to watch Tommys The Last Stream vod after I go for another quick walk, after that its just Tubbos stream which is probably just the same thing but from a different pov anyway, then its just the Syndicate End vod and then its just a two minute video of Ranboos end and then Im finally free. I really wish I could do this properly on my blog instead of having to do this in my notes app but I simply cannot wait another day. Im so hopped up on adrenaline rn i dont think I can sleep tonight, especially if I dont finally finish this. Also I have therapy tomorrow when Im writing this and I need to calm tf down before I show up at the therapists office all shaky n shit because of some minecraft roleplay. Its almost 6 pm rn and I shall be free of this nightmare before the clock strikes midnight. Amen.

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Tubbitch boi

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I dont even have anything to say man

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This is so upsetting dude

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I made it through these first 15 minutes with basically no pausing and I just wanted to take a moment to appreciate that bc I just know the second that joker starts talking to Dream I'll be pausing every 5 seconds

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Why the fuck does the prison look like it was under water for like a decade and now theres just barnacles n shit growing on everythinh

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YOU SPIN ME RIGHT ROUND BABEY RIGHT ROUND

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DREAM

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Alright I took two minutes to mentally prepare myself now Im ready for this

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Wait why the fuck was he just hangin out in the main cell if he wasnt even expecting Tommy. weirdo behaviour

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PUNZ IS THERE AS WELL??? WERE THEY HAVING A DATE IN THE TORTURE BOX

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"IM READY TO FUCKING KILL THE BOTH OF YOU"

*long uncomfortable pause*

"Uhm... okay"

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It looks like Tommy is doing a good job stalling them so far so Im very curious how it goes from this to the stuff Ive read spoilers about

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Ouhhhhhh I wonder how hes gonna react to that dig at Spirittttttt.........

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Okay, no like verbal ouward reaction but that is what got him to start attacking Tommy

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I dont think Punz will care that Tommy tried to kill himself bc of Dream, I think hed find that kinda hot

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"The world doesnt fucking revolve around you"??? Bro Punz Boomer arc??? "Those darn zoomers wanting compassion and kindness after almost killing themselves

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"Youre insane to think everything revolves around you" hello?? says the guy who fancies himself a god and also thinks everyone but him and his boytoy deserve to die because theyre "simple-minded"

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OH NO i completely forgot, the nuke is not gonna hit them. this is allpretty much pointless

DAMN YOU JACK MANIFOLD

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Okay listen, Im a huge c!Dream sympathetizer and I know this is gonna end with him being presented in a sympathetic and pitiable light and Im gonna fall for it no matter what because of course I am but like, he has been so comically awful throughout this entire finale I am not expecting this to end in an actually satisfying way at all

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Oh that sly dog got him monologuing

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Girl help I dont remember pre-rp dsmp well enough to tell if Dream is embellishing shit and victimizing himself or not

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OKAY dream smp from Dreams pov lets gooooooo

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??? what.

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Bro Dream is not in his right mind hes so far away from his right mind he might as well be chillin in lmoonberg that guy is so mentally ill (source: I have like atleast 90% of his mentall illnesses for sure)

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what do you MEAN "know more"???

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Maybe Im just a simple minded nihilist but why does that matter man. Why die so you can "know more" when you can live and have like, a party with your buddies

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Honestly, I feel like Dreams motivations are so stupid at this point, like literally just make him someone who worships XD and is favoured by him or whatever and then also have him have this morbid curiosity about the stuff beyond the server and have him try and become god while appeasing his actual god in the hopes that he'll reveal his otherworldly knowledge to him or whatever idk man

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Hows Dream gonna grow old with the people he loves when he doesnt have fucking friends HAH got im

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No offense but why has most of this finale been Tommy philosophically waxing about how you should accept death even though all thats waiting for you on the other side is eternal torment with Dream responding by being like "but why though?? :(" when that has like, literally nothing to do with any of the Dream SMPs themes? Like, okay, theres been a ton of storylines obviously but the two main ones are definitely Tommy vs Dream (its essentially the throughline to all this bullshit) and Wilbur, Lmanberg and every single attempt at a country after that. Because of this I would say that the dsmps themes are Cycles of Violence and Legacy and when they intersect you occasionally get glimmers of this idea of History Repeating Itself.

The Legacy theme is insanely well executed, no notes, Im in love

The Cycles of Violence theme.... less so. I'll probably make a more detailed post about this in the future since I dont wanna waste too much time with this liveblog. But I personally think that if they wanted to pull this theme off while also making Dream sympathetic, he absolutely needed to be affected by the violence he inadvertently caused and the audience needs to actually see it in atleast one (1) scene that would be impossible to twist into something unsympathetic unless you were looking at it in bad faith. Dream being thrown in jail and subsequently physically tortured wouldve been a great opportunity for this kind of stuff like, I remember lurking in the fandom around this time, this was the point where plenty of people were starting to sympathize simply because of how inhumane the prison was. Like, if they werent gonna show him break a little in front of others for their perspectives, the least they couldve done was make like, a few short videos of Dream being alone, doing whatever, you wouldnt even need dialogue and then pepper those throughout the post-prison arcs. You could have one like two or three minute video right after Tommys visit where he maybe tries writing those stupid essays out of boredom before burning them and then some potatoes plop into the pool and you really get a sense for the emptyness and isolation of it. Another good one would be one showing how Quackity tortures him, or maybe one taking place right after one of the torture seassions with him starving and shaking and maybe trying to write a log or something but failing because everything hurts. Him being in the prison after hes escaped and made it his base again, watching it slowly decay and fall apart with him in it. They really dont have to be long, again, two or three minute videos wouldve done a lot of good here imo. And then you could also sprinkle in some monologues because as much as I like to make fun of the snake monologue in my head, it did give some much needed insight into Dreams perspective on all of this while making him a bit more sympathetic.

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Honestly, Dream is making some pretty reasonable points here (if you completely disregard all the context of the entire dsmp but still) but like dude, you cannot go around calling your teenage nemesis a pest that such obvious villain behaviour dude

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Im not gonna lie, i thought the very last final scene between Dream and Tommy would take place in a more, idk, intimate? place. Thats not the right word but whatever I cant think of anything else that fits. But like, they absolutely do not have a reason to leave so I guess this is just gonna continue with Tommy and Dream talking in this fucked up room of this fucked up prison while Punz is also right there

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Okay, I just got to the bit where Tommy says 'Im sorry' to Dream and I know a lot of people were upset by that bc they took it as him apologizing to his abusers for being 'abuse-worthy' if you wanna phrase it like that and thats not what I got from that at all. Like, its technically part of a very earnest emotional statement so his tone was kinda soft and apologetic but it really came across as an 'Im sorry you feel that way' kind of apology to me

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BRUH HE JUST KILLED HIM??? WHAT

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What the fuck is happening now

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Is this hell.

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NO ITS THE EARLY DREAM TEAM STREAMS THIS TRULY IS HELL

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Oh my god please tell me this wont go on for much longer I already watched like 30 hours of these boring ass guys dicking around back in late 2020 i cannot take a second more

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Bro why did they pick the part of the stream thats just Dream trying to figure out his fucking minecraft settings for this this isnt doing anything

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Please bring me back I dont wanna watch this boring shit

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What is ahppening

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Okay they revived him, are they gonna explain why his afterlife hell is just him watching the most boring minecraft streams on planet earth

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"It doesnt matter if I get horrifically traumatized because I'll just live forever :)"

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Okay I think Im starting to understand Dreams motivations here a bit more and they make more sense but its like, if you care so much about eliminating suffering why did you go out of your way to torment Tommy like that in exile. Like, i know its because you did want him to be your friend at some point and maybe you still do but you didnt like how he would never listen to you so you figured itd be better to just break him down mentally but like, I dont think that would be necessary for the long term goal of eliminating all death and suffering at all so, what

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Dude, he was not happy he was adjusting his minecraft settings

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What if he just started sobbed. Hes all smug like "well, im happy now :)" and then the dam jist breaks. wouldnt that be grand

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Hes fucking psychoanalyzing the green bitch this rules

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Im sorry man I was not envisioning this emotional final scene to be accompanied by Punz occasionally saying some bullshit in the background

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"George and Sapnap are still here" uh no, George literally isnt and last time we saw Sapnap he was making a deal with God to sacrifice his own life and afterlife to ensure that Dream would die and stay dead forever

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Oughhhhhhh this is great I can practically smell the insecurity coming off of him rn

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Oh god why is Tommy being like "you just wanted things to be simple [like they were in the past]" giving me a more complete understanding of myself as well this sucks I dont wanna be a c!Dream kinnie anymore >:(

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I dont think Tommy is wrong about what hes saying abt Dream at all here and I think this is a smart angle to focus on for making Dream seem more sympathetic but right now I definitely feel like its missing the crucial element of "yes, Dream just wants friends, friends who will do what he wants with minimal resistance because hes a control freak" yknow? Like, his need for absolute control all the time is one of his most prominent traits and him wanting to gain some understanding and control of death and other things beyond his comprehension actually lines up quite nicely with that, its just kinda getting muddled with Dreams statements about wanting to make everything better. Granted, he probably wouldnt want to admit that his version of "making everything better" is just making everyone listen to him bc hes god basically but still, I think his control freakiness needs to get addressed more explicitly and maybe it will be, weve still hot a few minutes but ehhhhh. I doubt it

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Honestly, ive grown to like Punz quite a bit eventhough he really hasnt done much but like, why the fuck is he here

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I realize that the dialogue in dsmp is always overwhelmingly improv but its just so odd and kinda bad in this conversation. I think its because out of context, the way both Dream and Tommy are phrasing things makes it seem like they were on more equal footing and both suffered equally during their conflict when thats just not the case and Im not a fan

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I think Ill tentatively take back all the stuff I said about how Dream shouldve been a worshipper of XD but i still think its a neat concept so I'll probably do something with that later

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Oh god why did they do that crown, Dreams skin already looks bad and silly enough. Oh well I take solace in knowing that all the fanart of this scene probably slaps

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OH I FORGOR ABOUT THE NUKES

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Punz is still there is he gonna say anything about the nuke thats about to hit

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Lookat these guys, never heard a nuke about to hit before

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Ohhhhhhh I thought that previous 'sorry' was the one Ive seen people upset about, but Im pretty sure its actually this one

Honestly, I still dont see why you would be upset about it outside of the fact that it is an abuse victim apologizing to his abuser but its like, idk man. I dont think a piece of media featuring a scene where that happens within a very specific context is doing abuse apologism, although I guess a lot of people would argue that the fact that Tommy is even reaching out to Dream after everything he did is abuse apologism and. Im not even gonna try to argue with them. I'll just say that I disagree and try to explain my perspective in some amount of detail, this will get pretty personal though, so watch out:

I was recently semi-diagnosed with a personality disorder and i probably have a bunch of other bullshit going on as well and not to armchair diagnose a fictional character but c!Dream definitely has that personality disorder and whatever other shit thats hiding inside my weird brain. His irrational, defensive thought processes, his contradictionary wants, his persistent need for control, his detached nature, his manipulation, the way he uses actual emotional pain as a tool for manipulation while keeping that pain at an arms length, even his weird monotone way of speaking, I relate to all of it. I have seen and related to a lot of mentally ill and neurodivergent and neurodivergent-coded characters and I have never felt as seen as now. He embodies my worst qualities turned up a few notches to make them even worse and then he has a weird god complex on top of all of that and yet, he still ends up being given sympathy, someone tries to understand him and offers him help. And idk, that just means a lot to me so I look at this whole thing a bit differently.

Also, while I get why some people are upset and I get peoples desire to critize this from a Doylist perspective because real people came up with this story in real life and that still has implications, even when the line between fiction and reality is thick enough to be considered a wall, from a Watsonian in-universe perspective its like, Dream is not a bad person for accepting help (or trying to accept help) when its being freely offered to him

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Okay wait but if the nuke still hit the prison and blew everything to shit what the hell did Jack do when he rewired the redstone at the launch thingy. Is the prison that close to the main smp I dont remember

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Oh man this is gonna take a hot second huh

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Okay we're back in Minecraft, Tommys punching a tree

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I hate the fact that Tommy doesnt atleast punch the entire tree down before making a crafting table

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OKAY IT IS DONE

I was gonna finish the whole series today but its almost 11pm and I a sleepy gal so i'll watch Tubbos pov tomorrow and the Syndicate vod and all that and also I'll probably give my thoughts on the ending in more detail after that. Right now I dont think I cant bare to write any more man, I just wrote like three or four decently detailed (for me) analyses about fucking bullshit basically in a row, my head literally hurts

So yeah, goodnight I'll be hopefully posting all of these posts tomorrow and I'll hopefully be peoperly liveblogging everything again

[inthelittlegenny]

...

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XXI - - - - Part XXII - - - - Part XXIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Ahsoka watched normal space slip away with a numb sort of disbelief.

Somehow she couldn’t quite accept that her Masters would actually—she felt small and selfish to even think that this was them abandoning her, considering Obi-Wan’s life might—but still—she was rapidly exiting the inner-rim and Obi-Wan and Skyguy were...somewhere else. Even after breaking orbit, she had childishly half-expected one of them to jump out with a wild explanation of how the whole thing was a huge misunderstanding, or a crazy scheme—or—some kind of explanation. And now she was back in hyperspace, on her way back to the front, alone. Master Skywalker’s presences felt closed off, and far-away—she hadn’t even sensed Master Kenobi on Coruscant.

She hadn’t even gotten to see him...

She was startled out of her slowly sharpening melancholy by the sudden clasp of a hand on her shoulder.

“You alright there, Commander?” Rex asked softly. Ahsoka stiffened her spine. Right, Obi-Wan and Anakin hadn’t just disappeared on her���she wasn’t actually alone, and she had a duty to the men who were here.

“Just thinking about crushing some Clankers,” she replied over-brightly. “How’s the Resolute holding up?”

“Same hiccup with gravity in the kitchens during the jump—it seems they didn’t have time to actually fix the issue when we were in dock, but we were prepared for it so it wasn’t too messy,” Rex replied, hands falling into a loose grip behind his back as slipped into his ‘Captain Reporting’ voice. “A few odd issues with our communications systems, but I’ve got men on it; I’m told it’s nothing to worry about, and should be back to normal by tomorrow. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Ahsoka nodded. “And the troops?” she asked lightly.

Rex was silent for a moment. “Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private,” he responded finally. 

“Of course.”

She followed him from the observation port to an unused briefing space a few decks down, cheerfully greeting each vod they passed, all of whom radiated relief at the sight of the familiar Jedi commander. Another pang of guilt passed through her. She should have already been greeting the men, not wallowing in self-pity. They knew even less than she did about their missing Generals. She had to be more of Jedi than usual, not less. What would Skyguy think of her moping? What would Master Kenobi—

She smiled at another passing group, one of whom she recognized as a Snow Wolf. 

“Commander Tano!” he cried. “We had heard rumors—” Another soldier shut him up with an elbow to the gut. 

Ahsoka smiled harder. “At ease, Mit,” she said, relieving him from his hasty salute. “I know there’s rumors flying around about, ah, General Skywalker’s and General Kenobi’s special assignment, but I’m sorry to say that you guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Mit and the others chuckled briefly at the admittedly weak joke.

“Rex and I have to be off now but It’s a long flight to the Expansion Zone; I’m sure I’ll see your faces again,” she said with a snappy two-fingered salute, striding off before they could work up the courage to ask any follow-up questions. 

“As you were,” Rex ordered, and the Captain and Commander continued on their way.

Finally they stepped into the quiet room, door snapping shut. Ahsoka composed herself for a moment, plastering on a confident smile before turning to face Rex.

“What did you want to talk about, Captain?” she asked, falling backwards into a seat and looking up at the Captain with careful casualness.

Rex pulled off his helmet. His expression cracked Ahsoka in half.

“You don’t have to do that with me, Commander Tano. I know General Kenobi’s not on a mission,” he said quietly, voice as sad as his eyes. “Cody and I—and I think Waxer, we’re the only vode who’ve been read in on...what Kenobi tried to do.”

She looked away from that pitying, pitiful gaze, eyes suddenly burning. 

“The last direct news I got was more than two days ago,” she finally said, giving up on the act and slumping forward as Rex set his helmet gently on the table. “Skyguy called me to ask a bunch of weird question and told me...you know. I felt Master Kenobi’s presence earlier this—kriff this was just this morning...” she trailed off.

“Language,” he corrected automatically. She chuckled wetly and absently pulled out a chair for him with a wave of her hand. He settled into it stiffly.

“I found out the night of,” Rex admitted. “They called Cody to ask about—about possible toxins. I think they were just searching for any kind of explanation. They let me visit him yesterday—”

Ahsoka hunched further and Rex paused for a moment before continuing awkwardly.

“It just looked like he was sleeping—healers said he was physically doing fine, so. I’m not a medic, but he’s definitely really well cared for.” Rex cleared his throat. “In terms of General Skwalker, I, uh, got a message from him the night before it happened about something completely unrelated, then nothing for three days, then a message before dawn this morning saying he had to ‘step down due to personal failures’ and he ‘trusted me to lead the 501st in his stead.’ Wrote that he needed to ‘earn his current rank.’” 

Ahsoka’s head snapped up, intense focus charging the room. Rex let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I commed him right back, and he said that it was ‘partially about Obi-Wan, but more about past wrongdoing’. He apologized for abandoning me and the rest of the 501st, but told me he had to work on ‘his judgement’ before he could trust himself to act as General. The official memo about their temporarily absence from the command structure, for ‘undisclosed reasons’ came out about 5 minutes after we talked. Along with the promotion of Krell and General Tiin.”

“He messaged you this morning? He stepped down voluntarily?” she asked, feeling betrayed all-over again. “What the kriff?”

“Did he—he told me he was planning on comming you once you were closer to Coruscant...” he asked, looking at her hesitantly.

She let out a frustrated snarl, chair falling to the ground with a clatter as she began pacing the room. “Well he didn’t!” she ranted, attempting to stalk off her frustration. “Something more must have happened, and the council doesn’t want us to know what! What you saw on the loading dock was all the information anyone gave me! For all I know they’re both dead!”

Rex inhaled sharply and the padawan attempted to backtrack her words. “No, I don’t mean that, I can sense Skyguy he’s just—distant.”

“But you can’t sense General Kenobi,” he said grimly. 

“I don’t have a direct training bond with him,” she replied severely. “And he’s good at shielding, and he’s usually—it’s not like he’s the loudest Jedi, you know?”

“You said you felt his presence this morning?” he pressed. “General Tiin and Krell did too, I think. Tiin seemed relieved at first but then—”

“He disappeared,” Ahsoka said quietly. “It’s like he reached out and then—it wasn’t even like letting go he just stopped.”

“Krell said he died,” the Captain reported matter-of-factly.

Ahsoka flinched. “There are—there’s other explanations. He might have just pulled up his shields really abruptly. It—I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I’ve felt Jedi die before and it doesn’t usually feel like that.”

Rex shifted awkwardly. The tortugan padawan paced back and forth, trying to release her helpless uncertainty into the force.

“Do you think it’s possible they might be on a special assignment?” he asked wearily. “I mean, it makes more sense in some ways that General Kenobi was just setting up some really intense cover for himself, and—and—General Skywalker got—accidentally wrapped up in it.”

Commander Tano rubbed her temples. “I wanted to think that too...I mean, it would be a pretty messed up choice of cover story, but...I really don’t think so” she said finally. “Skyguy was trying to put on a brave face when he talked to me but he was pretty—I’ve never seen him so destroyed—I mean getting shot down on the battlefield is one thing, but losing someone because—because you didn’t tell them how much you appreciated them, or because you added to their alright insane workload just through your presence—”

Suddenly Rex was in-front of her, chair scraped back and hands on her shoulders. “I’ve been through this was Cody, and I’ll go through it with you again as many times as it takes—you cannot blame yourself for this.”

She looked away. His hands tightened. “I’m serious,” he said emphatically. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you and Cody are the best of the best—if there was any warning sign to see, any enemy to fight, you would have identified it, fought back, won. I’m sorry, but the whole high council was surprised too, and they see him often enough! It’s—the whole situation’s kriffed up but it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I’m sorry Skyguy stepped down on you—”

“That’s not your fault either—”

“Yeah, I know, you’re repeating yourself Captain—”

“Well, it’s hard to tell if you’re listening sometimes—”

Ahsoka gasped theatrically. “Is that anti-montral sentiment? I think it might be, after special Kamino sensitivity training too—”

“More like anti-anti-helmet sentiment. Seriously you’d think—”

“I’m a Jedi and I practice ataru. Armor would just—”

“—’slow you down’ I know, I know.”

Ahsoka giggled and the two of them found themselves wandering over to the small viewport, watching stars distort and stretch as they sped along the hyperlane.

“Have you—are you familiar with Krell?” Rex eventually asked.

“Not really,” Ahsoka admitted, wrinkling her brow. “I know he’s a pretty talented duelist—he’s got his own four armed Jar’kai style that’s apparently almost impossible to do anything against, but I’ve never actually gotten to see it in action—I don’t remember him hanging around the temple much growing up, and I’m not really certain where he’s been stationed during the war. I guess Master Windu assigned me to 501st duties so specifically so I wouldn’t bother him too much for sparring practice while he’s figuring out his duties? What’s your read on him?”

Rex radiated discomfort and Ahsoka eyed him cautiously. 

“I haven’t—seen him on the battlefield. I’m sure he’s very capable. He’s not the most...respectful Jedi I’ve met.”

Ahskoa smirked. “Well, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right? If he gets the job done? I mean once you got a jetpack you made it your personal mission to throw Anakin of a cliff as often as possible! And Kix stole all of Anakin’s pants after he kept escaping bacta and messing up Medical.”

“I don’t mean respectful like that, Commander,” Rex said quietly. 

“What do you mean, then?” she asked, feeling a prickle of unease. 

“It’s nothing to worry about right now, but I’d—appreciate if we could talk about your...impression after our limpet meeting with the Negotiator tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Captain. We’re—we’re in this together, right?” Ashoka replied hesitantly. For the first time that conversation, she reached out to him, softly placing a hand on his arm and desperately trying to press her tangled feelings of friendship, loyalty, and gratitude through the force. 

Rex smiled, seeming to get the message. “Yeah Commander,” he responded hoarsely. “We’re in it this together.”

Part XXV

[sisterofleatherfrog]

The Silence Brings Me Home

Hey! This is my first fanfic so I hope you all enjoy it! I was inspired by an illustration I saw of Crosshair sobbing and holding Lula for comfort (which I cannot find for the life of me, if I do eventually I’ll link it). I meant to get his done before ep. 11 Devil’s Deal (and especially before this week’s) because we still didn’t know what Cross looked like at that point, but I’m slow and here we are. There is some fanart I did at the end, I’ve only recently gotten back into drawing after a long time, so it might be a little rough sorry!

Summary: The Batch get Crosshair back, but what he has, and almost done haunts him. Comfort is given in the simplest of ways: by being presen for the healing.

Warnings: Mention of blood/injury, killing/murder. Heavy angst with comfort. Self loathing ideation.The beginnings of a family healing together from trauma.

Word Count: 2188

It was as close as it got to silent within the Havoc Marauder. The ship always faintly hummed as it cruised through space; the engines and various systems constantly working away in the background via a complicated web of technology and wiring, maintained by the Batch’s resident genius. Rumors were, if someone listened close enough as a ship passed through hyperspace, they could faintly hear the sound of the decillions of particles out there passing around the ship. Something like sand blasting the outside of the hull, but with a bell-like, ringing, song. It was that sort of silence that found all six of the inhabitants within the Marauder.

Tech, the aforementioned genius, was nursing a new goose egg on his forehead with a cold compress while attempting to repair a hairline fracture in one of his goggles lenses. Echo sat across from him helping to guide the nearly blind man in his endeavour. Besides a myriad of small cuts and new bruises, Echo’s left leg lay detached and balanced on his lap, waiting for attention from Tech for a recently smoking blaster hole through the calf. Laying in his bunk, Wrecker was also nursing a new blaster wound: the bolt having ripped through his armour and taken a chunk out of his right bicep. He lay quietly, making sure to stay off his wound so the bacta could do its work and trying to process the events of the day. Remembering the adrenaline and the genuine moment of fear he’d had, but smiling nonetheless. Foreword in the front of the ship, Hunter sat quietly, his face kriffing hurting, his nose having to have been reset after being knocked out of joint. He’d definitely taken a beating, he’d be feeling everything that currently hurt fivefold tomorrow, but the wounds could have been worse. Everything could have been much worse. What could have been was an ache that never faded and a silence that was never filled. 

Hunter’s gaze slid to the seat beside him, looking at the small girl that had so quickly become a priority in his life. Omega was curled up on the seat, her arms and legs tightly squeezing Lula to her body while her eyes peaked over her knees to watch the blue of hyperspace. She had thankfully missed all the action this time, safely tucked away within the ship by a promise Hunter had made her swear. He looked over at her, thankful she and his vode were all together here, alive, and relatively in one piece. Still needing something to comfort him though, he reached over and ruffled Omega’s short blonde hair. Her eyes, brown like his, slid over to look at him and he could see a small smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She’d been incredibly worried at the state her family had been at their return, seeing them beaten, bloody, bruised, and punctured wasn’t something a kid should ever be exposed to. They were alive though, and…

Hunter turned his head a little, gazing into the back of the ship where, almost hidden in the furthest recess of the bunks, he could see a pair of long, thin legs encased in black armour. Omega followed Hunter’s gaze and that smile wavered some as nervousness played over her face. She was happy her family was alive and she was happy that her fathers’ brother had been brought back, but the fear of all that time being hunted lingered like a dark cloud on the horizon in her mind. Omega knew it wasn’t Crosshair’s fault. The chip wasn’t something that the host could reason with; locking them far away in the back of their own minds. From the little she could get from what she’d heard, he could be mean, but wasn’t inherently malicious. Everything he’d done in his hunt for them under the Empire was a stripped version of himself- the man was gone but the shrewd soldier remained.

…

Waking up in that dingy medbay was one of the most disorientating moments of Crosshair’s life. He was… a man again, something that thought independently from orders given. But good soldiers follow orders. He wasn’t a drone though. But you are a soldier... Yes, he was, but something else guided him, rather than his superiors he’d always looked elsewhere- 

“He’s awake!” The call came from nearby, as did the sound of several pairs of feet rushing in. He knew that voice, but reacted on instinct to the people closing in and jerked his head up, ready to defend, no, attack- Hunter was there, the closest, he was one of his targets-

...So follow through.

No!

Revulsion rose so strongly within himself that everything in his mind that wasn’t his own shrank back like frightened animals, leaving him gasping with an acrid taste in the back of his mouth and a feeling of bile rising in his chest. Pitching sideways he landed gracelessly twisted on the metal floor and began heaving, unable to tell if anything came up at all; not able to remember when the last time he ate was, only feeling a burning in his stomach. Hands gently touched his back but he jerked violently, seeking to remove that touch even if it wasn’t a punishment. When was the last time he’d been given that understanding? When had somebody last cared that his body needed tenderness? It felt unnatural to him now, no longer familiar, and painful.

Voices filtered through as the haze of sickness cleared: “...scans indicate the procedure was a complete success and that he should recover the same as us. Crosshair’s reaction is due to something else entirely.” Tech, he’d know that voice always rattling away with statistics and diagnostics. He’d almost silenced it forever with a single shot- how long ago was that? How long had it been since the ion engine had left him broken and the Kaminoans had pieced him back together, fit him with an eye that didn’t quite measure up to his shooting one and left him always a little off balance? 

“Crosshair? Vod?” Hunter now, “Are you with us?” Crosshair felt him kneel next to him and could see his concerned face in his peripheral vision now that his initial haze had begun to fade. 

He considered himself for a moment now that the remains of whatever had been in his head were gone. “Yes, I’m here.” Physically, but everything felt so strange. He could hear Wrecker roaring something nearby, probably his loud approximation of a greeting, but he made no move to meet it, didn’t (couldn’t) move himself to. At this, Hunter motioned for him and the others to back off a little before speaking again. “That’s good, we finally caught you and your inhibitor chip is gone now. You’re going to be fine, we’ve got you.” Fine? After everything Crosshair really didn’t think so.

…

Despite the best possible outcome the Batch made their way back to the Marauder, from another downed Jedi cruiser they’d managed to locate thanks to Rex, in an unwieldy silence. Back on the ship they all finally began to address their variety of wounds, and Crosshair, seeing this, froze. This was all him. This was his fault. He had hurt his vod, brought them pain, tried to kill them. He felt sick again, felt as if he was dropping out of his body while his heart constricted painfully and began to race in a clumsy gallop. Crosshair stayed where he was in the back of the ship and sat while somebody got it under way, finally feeling the vague reeling in his gut from entering hyperspace. 

It was quiet, nobody made a move to approach him yet. He didn’t know if he even wanted one of them to get close. Everything felt so wrong. He was wrong. What he’d done, betrayed and tried to murder his family, all because of an order?! Him, who flicked his toothpicks at commanders and belonged with a group of defective clones, couldn’t defy an order. Kriff him. One simple pull of a trigger and it could have been any one of them. If he hadn't missed, it could have been Tech’s brain matter splattered over the hull of a downed starship. His vod who was so much like an over-eagre younger sibling. Or Wrecker, who Crosshair had teased and soothed in equal measures in his life. Or Echo who, even though he wasn’t modified like the Batch, could never be normal again and Crosshair had learned to respect him as a brother. And Hunter… he couldn’t think it, couldn’t parse a world where he was dead, where he had been responsible for his death. 

Kriff him. How did he- how did he go on alongside his brothers when he’d almost done that? When he’d always be haunted by the pitiless voice in his head (his own, that had ordered the death of innocents) that had repeated his mission as a mantra. He could scrub his skin forever with the harsh scourer he used to clean his armour, but this isn’t something he could wash away. Whether it be in the new scars that had accumulated on their bodies, or the cybernetic eye that now greets him in the mirror, there would be no losing this. No taking it back or making it better. He couldn’t- he should-

A black mass came into his sight and he jumped. Lula was being offered to him in two small hands. The girl, what was her name again? She’d spoken to him when they were all in the cell on Kamino together (the last time they were all together where he wasn’t trying to kill the rest of them). She’d told him it wasn’t his fault, had she known what was working against him in his head? It didn’t matter now. The girl-Omega, that was her name- watched him partially hidden behind the tooka doll with the eyes of his brothers. 

“Here” She said, her kaminoan accent still strong after all the time she’d been running, “Wrecka’ lets me borrow her when I’m upset, I don’t think he’ll mind if you do too.” 

Crosshair looked at the old, scuffed doll and noticed a stitch in grey forming a cuff on it’s left arm. It had been a dumb scuffle over his and Wreckers continual rivalry and it had ended up with Lula getting the worst of it. He’d stayed up all night trying to make his stitches even and neat, not wanting to ruin the doll. He touched those stitches, gently tracing the line they made before gently grasping it and curling forward, needing to wrap the aching sore that was himself around something. Omega slipped onto the seat next to him and leaned into his left, he wanted to flinch away but something about this gave him... grace. He’d ordered the men under him to aim for her fragile little body and yet here she was offering him comfort through it’s support.

What comfort did he deserve though? What did he deserve indeed. Crosshair gazed unseeingly at the floor, trying to piece the parts of him left scattered in a thousand memories together to once again become the man he was before all this. He startled again when another body suddenly pressed itself into his right side. He turned, a masque of death greeted him, etched into a face permanently carved stern, but the eyes- Hunter’s eyes reminded him of the rail-thin cadet he used to be, not built to fight off any clones who wanted to get a piece of him on his own. He wasn’t alone back then though, three other boys were always there to back him up, and they would patch each other’s wounds together in their quarters afterwards. Hunter, their de-facto leader, was always worried about the hits they’d taken, not relaxing until every bump was seen to and bandaged. It was that look again, that same look that said: ‘I’m staying right here until I know my brothers are going to be fine.’

Some more shuffling in the ship Tech and Echo came into view, the latter still short a leg and being supported over to sit across from him. They didn’t say anything, but Tech came and sat in front of Omega on the floor, letting himself rest against Crosshair’s legs. Echo didn’t move to touch him, but remained in his presence just the same and gently smiled, his posture relaxing to lean against the wall of the berth. Just visible from behind a corner, Wrecker gingerly turned over with his injury, meeting Crosshair’s gaze with a smile already there for him. His injury prevented him from rising, but he extended a large hand towards him from his bunk. He was too far to physically reach him, but the gesture translated anyway: ‘I’m here brother, I missed you, I was worried.’ 

The Marauder sang through hyperspace; no words were spoken by anyone aboard for a long time. But this silence was familiar, and even though he felt a long way from having earned it, Crosshair could understand it perfectly: ‘Welcome home.’

Here’s Crosshair as in the story, I thought it would be really cool if he and Wrecker had matching cybernetic eyes. I gave him his ep. 11 haircut though because it’s cool.

[sharkbait-writes]

Despite knowing it would happen, it still hurt.

Here’s the thing. No matter how close you are growing up with your siblings, despite your bond sufficing through different opinions and actions, not matter the love you felt for them and how deep it was ingrained, no matter how much it made you yourself -how much it was coded into you- there will always be some things breaking that bond.

Whether that was different ideals, believes, actions or even orders.

(Help, help, somebody PLeaSe heLP ME, i doN’t kNow WhAt to do DO, WHAT ISHAPPENING TO ME, SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLE-)

So, no matter how much it hurt Fox, -no matter how much it chipped away at his own person until it broke him and left him an empty shell, not even a whisper of his old and own person residing-, he was absolutely not surprised when it happened to him.

Life always found a way to come back to him.

Fox realized that very early in his life and was constantly reminded of that fact.

And no matter how much it absolutely destroyed Fox, he knew it would happen and he was not even a single bit surprised.

Chancellor Palpatine found him on a roof. Because where else could he have been?

Many believe that to be a sign. A symbol. That something bad was about to happen. That he could make one wrong move and tumble over the edge.

But the Chancellor knew him well enough to know that wasn’t going to happen.

The Coruscant Guard might have been reduced to nothing but lap dogs for the senators in the eyes of the public and the GAR, but they still did what they were originally supposed to be doing on Coruscant -keeping the plant and its inhabitants safe. And while being in broad daylight worked in daylight, during night it was a different game. One played by the guard and consisting of jumping off high platforms and swinging between building.

So yes, the Coruscant Guard was never immediately on high alert if they saw one of their own on the edge of a high platform, like a roof for example. Every Guard knew how to act if something bad were to happen. If they were ever to tumble over the edge.

Perhaps it helped that Fox wasn’t standing, but instead sitting with his legs dangling over the edge and repeatedly hitting the wall behind with the other foot every hit.

Perhaps it was helping that Fox wasn’t holding any kind of beverage and instead had his hands lose in his lap and with no bottle on either side of him.

Perhaps it helped that Fox was one of the best. Had been swinging between these very buildings since he first laid eyes on them. One of the most highly decorated soldiers in the entire GAR.

Perhaps it was the way his muscles didn’t seem to be flexing, building up for the moment the constant tension could finally be let lose, and instead looked, for the first time in what seemed like forever, relaxed.

Or not relaxed- outwardly perhaps he seemed like it, when internally he actually was numb.

“You want to know why I’m not crying?”, the silence had been stretching for far too long between the two. Long enough for Palpatine to rethink his decision, now however, it seemed like he chose the right time.

The thing is, Fox knew it would happen.

He knew since the beginning of the war, where he was the only one of his squad to be assigned to stay on Coruscant. On Coruscant where he was doomed to watch his loved ones die and not be able to do anything about it. On Coruscant where he was doomed by behing held captive against his own will and knowledge-

(whY is he sO ALONE???)

-On Coruscant where he was doomed to become someone he wasn’t-

(Oh, force, whY Won’T soMEonE COmE AND SAVE ME???)

-Where he was doomed to realized his family was leaving him, their faces turned away from him so he couldn’t see their disgust, pain, betrayal, shame, numbness or passiveness on it.

One by one, his family left him. First the younger cadets looking up at him, then his trainers, then his batchmates, then his very own Guard and then his fellow Guard Commanders.

One by one they died.

One by one they turned their backs on him. And he let it happen, didn’t stop it because he did the same to them.

And it hurt.

Oh, how it hurt and destroyed him from the inside out. That the only reason he was even still fighting this warm was leaving him, like he had left them.

That his family was gone and he was alone.

And even if it hurt so much he could barely make it out of his own bed at times, he had not been surprised at the slightest to see it start to happen.

“My family has left me. I’m all alone. I should be crying. But I’m not”, the clone’s face has been looking up the whole time, unseeing. His eyes busy watching memories and past actions.

“You don’t even care. You’re only here because you are the only one still looking for me, even if your reason is anything but moral..”

Palpatine stayed quiet.

“I have lost everything and I’m not even crying a single, kriffin’ tear”, Palpatine wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to have heard that, with how quietly it was whispered.

It hurt, but it was not surprising.

After all the hurt he put his family through, after all the broken promises and forgotten reunions and eft alone brothers and murdered brothers-

(brotHER killer, brotHER killer, brother Killer, brother kiLLEr, BROther ki-)

(YOU MURDERED YOUR OWN VOD)

Without much flair, the clone stood up. It stood there, on the edge of the roof just staring up, and turned just the slightest bit.

If Palpatine had a caring heart and the clone were more than just a clone -if it were an actual human being- the next words would have made him feel at least something. A tug at his heartstrings, a burning behind his eyes, a jab at his heart or even a problem with breathing. Anything.

But as it was, the clone was all it was -a clone- and Palpatine was only here to make sure his plan didn’t go down in flames.

Which was why the next matter-of-fact said words -quiet, small and empty-

“I knew it would happen”

-directed at the night sky a couple of levels higher up but getting caught in the pollution of lower levels- only made him feel irritation.

But the clone only shouldered its way past Palpatine, down the stairways and to his bike to get back to his office where he would be alone again.

Fox remembered how in the beginning he thought that maybe they would just ignore him for a short while. But that changed and the though he would be replaced.

And then his batchmates stayed only professional with him if they were together, never mentioned him to others, acted if he were nothing more but air otherwise, stopped trying to get him away from his early death by flimsiwork.

And then he realized they didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Fox was already feeling empty enough to know it was only a matter of time.

If Fox would have turned around he would have seen the Chancellor in all of his robed and hidden glory silently watching him leave. Would have seen the way the corners pf his mouth turned up ever so slightly to reveal a smirk and a whispered “tomorrow”.

But he never did.

[ironmandeficiency]

force sensitive

pairing: rex / reader

word count: 2017

summary: you’re a mechanic for the 501st & you go with torrent to 79’s during leave. you get drunk off your ass & start pushing things off tables, claiming that it was the force (it wasn’t). then, after a few minutes, it was.

rex didn’t know what he did to deserve any of this. he was just trying to have a fun night at 79’s and wind down after yet another visit to fellucia, the hellhole planet that tested his sanity, and reunite with some brothers he hasn’t seen in a while. in hindsight, there was no point in hoping that things would be quiet at the clone bar because the words “quiet” and “79’s” didn’t belong in the same category.

this, however, would have been above his pay grade if he actually got paid for this shit.

you were drunk off your shebs, to describe your condition briefly. in more vivid detail, you were splayed across the laps of him, fives, and hardcase with a smile that took over your face as you laughed at literally anything anyone said. you had an arm wrapped around rex’s shoulder and was currently using his pauldron as a pillow despite saying it was uncomfortable. there was a double-digit number of empty glasses in front of the area where you previously sat and rex knew well how miserable your hangover would be in the morning.

he also knew that tomorrow would be a terribly busy day for you and your fellow mechanics because the 327th was temporarily going to be bunking with them on the resolute, and they just got back from another hellhole rex didn’t have the displeasure of knowing. “alright, i think it’s time to get home-“

“but rex, look!” you swept your free arm across part of the table and knocked over the bottles belonging to fives and hardcase with a flourish. “i used the force! i’m force sensititive!! i need to go to the temple, as soon as i can!”

hardcase started laughing so hard that he nearly shoved you into the floor. the only way you don’t fall is the way rex and fives grip onto you and save you from the grimy bar floor. no one deserved to be on that floor. there was no telling what diseases someone could get from it.

“y/n, cyare, you’re drunk. we need to get back to base so you can get a head start on sleeping out this hangover.” why did rex have to be the voice of reason? it was so hard and emotionally taxing. but on the other hand, he thought with a hidden smile, it did give him some serious blackmail for when his vod’e needed to be straightened out.

you pouted, shifting yourself clumsily away from rex and snuggling closer to fives. the arc trooper didn’t mind it one bit, hamming it up with an arm around your waist as he pulled you into his lap. a small shriek accompanied fives burying his chin in between your shoulder and neck, the tickling sensation heightened by his goatee burning slightly into your exposed skin.

“fives! fives, stop! i- i can’t breathe! fives!” you were giggling and bracing yourself on his thighs, clueless to the wrath beginning to boil in the captain at the sight of you all over his vod. he quickly brushed it away and buried any evidence of his jealousy as he lifted you into his arms, trying not to glance at your inebriated smile that was now dangerously close to his.

“c’mon sweetheart, you’ve got a long day ahead of ya tomorrow.” fives said nothing as you were removed from his lap but with that knowing look in his eyes, he didn’t need to. the protective body language of his captain and the way you leaned into him were signs that pointed to something a little more than platonic.

you let yourself relax into rex, the plastoid armor not even a bother in your pursuit for comfort. you’d been in far less comfortable places as a mechanic; plastoid painted in five-oh-first blue was always welcome. footsteps carried you out of the bar and back home. “you’re soft, captain. anyone ever tell you that?”

rex flushed redder than a sith’s ‘saber at the affection in your words paired with your breath innocently panting against his neck (maker how he wishes it were anything but innocent). “no, i… can’t say that i’ve been made aware of that knowledge. is it a good thing?” he didn’t know where the last part originated from, only that he said it and it unfortunately couldn’t be forced back down his throat.

your smile seemed to bring him back to the planet, while the way you nudged his ear with your nose as you replied, “it’s a wonderful thing, alor’ad. absolutely wonderful.”

he smiled despite himself, allowing himself this time of bliss while he carried you out of 79’s and back toward the barracks. your mando’a was a little lacking in some places, but he loved to hear the way your tongue rolled over every syllable. especially when it was to him.

“rex, i did it again!”

“i’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

another clatter was heard around his quarters and rex didn’t know whether he should laugh or groan at the mess you were making as you claimed to be using the force. he knew that you probably should be staying in your bunk in the mechanics’ quarters for the night, but only a cruel man would leave your bunkmates subject to the giddy drunk that was his cyare. so he carried the burden gladly, looking forward to falling asleep beside you once you had tired yourself out.

you had only been in rex’s private quarters on one other occasion, and that first time was so brief that you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the small things that made it his and different from the same official-looking bunks that all commanding officers were given.

he had a wooden hat/cloak rack in the corner closest to the door that held his helmet and your prized bomber jacket. there was a bottle of unopened corellian whiskey on a caf table that rested in front of a worn couch that no one knew how he got into his room. all they knew is that it was comfortable & was a great place to talk about your problems with the blond man currently enduring your drunken antics with a smile.

you plopped down next to him on said couch, toeing your boots off clumsily and letting your feet prop themselves on the coffee table. they didn’t stay there for long. rex’s voice was chiding you right after but he did so softly, knowing that you wouldn’t have done that if in your right mind. “cyare, feet off the table!” he grabbed your legs and swung them over his lap, your angle changing to where your head was resting against the arm of the couch.

“i’m sorry, rexy,” you pouted as you wiggled around for a moment to get truly comfortable in the new position. “forgive me?” you gazed at him through your lashes, your foot now nudging his armored thigh playfully, a smirk growing as he jostled slightly at your efforts.

his grin mirrored yours after a minute and it could’ve powered the entire damn ship with how bright it was. “yeah, i couldn’t stay mad at’cha for long, anyway.” in your honest/drunken opinion, he didn’t smile like that often enough, and you resolved to do anything to bring that light back to his face. you didn’t know if you’d remember the vow by morning, so it was more of a sentiment than anything at this point.

hummed approval emitted from your throat, deciding to enjoy the comfortable silence that had now settled in the room. a gloved hand came up to rub your leg and your eyes drifted shut when he began to massage the muscle. rex took your head falling back a sign that his ministrations were effective and so he continued, secretly filling away the image of you on his couch so relaxed. you were always running yourself ragged trying to keep everything in working order for him and the entire five-oh-first that you deserved this peace, to let loose every once in a while.

then he heard a clunk as his helmet landed in your lap, the thing seeming to float all the way across the room as if you used- holy kriff, you weren’t lying.

“y’know what would be weird, rex? if the five-oh-first had gold paint and the two-twelfth had your blue.” you ran your fingers over the markings of his helmet, taking the time to admire the welding marks that signified the way he customized his phase 2 helmet. “don’t think your jaig eyes would pop out the same th’ do in blue. not sure why not, might just be because this is the only real color i’ve seen you in. blue suits you, i think.”

he wasn’t paying as much attention to your words as he would have been otherwise, but you just made his helmet float to you! he was warranted a bit of distraction, in his opinion. he chuckled when thinking back to it now, knowing that your mischief has probably caused at least one food fight in the mess because of course his gotabor’ika would use the force to start shit.

rex was in his head for a moment too long because your feet had returned to nudging his thigh, you clearly not satisfied with his attention being held elsewhere while you were trying to make conversation. drunk you took his silence as a cue to him being sleepy, and even though plastoid felt okay when you were being carried by the strong arms of your captain, it most likely wasn’t comfortable to sleep in.

getting your feet with a slight wobble (rex would have laughed) you stretched out the hand not holding his helmet toward him, signalling for him to hold your hand. “rex, we gotta go’sleep. bly’s coming tomorrow and i wanna say hi, an’ i can’t say hi if i’m sleeping off a hangover.” rex stood but didn’t take your hand, deciding to remove his armor first.

“your logic is flawless as usual, gotabor’ika. you go on ahead, i’ll get this stuff off and meet you there.” he’s slept next to you before, it wasn’t a new experience for him; the unfamiliar territory was that it was in his bed without the prying eyes of his brothers to watch him hold you as protectively as he ached to when you were assigned to join them on the field.

a little huff followed you making your way to his bed, once again flabbergasting rex as you used the force to move his blanket aside enough to crawl in. your eyes watched approvingly as he stripped down to his bottom blacks, your arms hugging his helmet like an extra pillow.

you didn’t put up a fight when his hands moved your arms away from the helmet, body already succumbing to the exhaustion that would be trailed by a nasty hangover. your eyes were fighting it, them being your only ally in your quest to admire the blond man now shimmying under the covers. his quiet little demand for you to scooch warranted compliance because it sounded so soft, like he was saying something with far more substantial than the six-letter command.

rex felt a hum vibrate in your chest as you tangled your body around his. you’d told him before that you got cold easily and the mechanics’ barracks being below the air filtration system made them colder than most of the ship. you were letting yourself get lost in the warmth of him, your mind becoming peacefully blank of everything but rex.

he simply smiled as your breath fanned across his bare chest, lightly blowing the light chest hair that adorned his body. in this bliss he’d nearly forgotten that you could apparently use the force until you used said force to tug the blanket up to your neck and tuck them around you both. eh, that force stuff can be a problem for future rex. all he wanted to do was stay in this moment with your weight resting comfortably against his side, not a worry in sight.

[writer1]

Fear of the unknown

Chapter 5

Rex is laying in his bed, you lying on his chest. You both had fallen asleep during the third holo-movie, Rex waking up not long after it ended. He's glad to be awake to see you like this, he finds you absolutely adorable.

The way your laying on his chest, head right where you can hear his heart beat. You're mouth is closed and he can hear your steady breathing. Your one hand clenching his shirt.

He's got his arms wrapped around you. He's so grateful to have you here with him, he expected you to leave as soon as you found out he was a werewolf. It's not that he doesn't trust you, but he still doesn't understand how you could still love him even though he's a monster.

He chuckle's when he thinks about how angry you get when he calls himself that, you are so protective of him. He doesn't know what he would do if you weren't here. He still scared of everything but having you here makes it better, he still doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Cody. He asked General Kenobi not to tell him, wanting to explain it to his ori'vod himself.

He has no idea how Cody is going to react to him being a werewolf, Cody probably wouldn't believe it until he sees it. Which means Rex might have to transform in front of Cody to make him believe it.

He is not excited for that. At all. If Cody is anything like Fives, he'll probably scream like a little girl, that will at least be hilarious. And if he has Artoo there, some damn good blackmail.

Rex looks down at you, he can't believe that the both of you fell asleep so early, it must've been from all the stress of the past few days. He checks the time and notices that it's evening, he wonders if he should wake you to eat but thinks better of it, deciding to get you food once you wake up on your own.

He's laying there for a few minutes, starting to doze off again when he hears you start to wake up. He looks down and see's your eyes start to flutter, you open them and yawn, looking up at him.

"Have a good nap, cyare." You smile, crawling up so that you can give him a kiss.

"Yeah, it was nice. How about you." He smiles at you, he's much more relaxed than before.

" It was good, considering everything." You smile as you stand up and stretch, ready to get some food. You're starving.

"Well we better get up Rex, I'm ready for supper." He stands up to, stretching his muscles out.

"Kriff!" You turn to Rex, wondering what would be wrong.

"I forgot my armor in the barracks."

"It's fine Rex, we can stop at the barracks before we head to the mess, okay." You both head to the barracks, Rex putting his armor on before going to the mess. When you get in there, Fives and Jesse wave at you both from their table. You grab your food and head over to them, sitting across from them.

"Hey, where have you two been." You smile at Fives, taking a bite of your food, ignoring the bland taste.

"Rex was given the day off so we went to his room and watched some holo-movie's." Five's smiles at you both, him and Jesse share a look.

"That's nice, General Skywalker and General Kenobi informed us of the situation. So you're going to be joining us, y/n."

"Yes." He looks excited and so does Jesse, you wonder why. They are your friends but you didn't think that they'd be this excited.

"That's good, hopefully you can cook for us now on missions." Ah, you realize, that's why he's so excited. He's excited to eat your cooking instead of this tasteless food.

"Oh, if that's all I am to you. And I thought that we were friends." You fake a hurt look, almost laughing at Fives and Jesse's upset looks. Rex is holding back laughter, he knows that you're faking it.

"No... No of course we're your friends. We're just as happy about having you here as we are about your cooking." You find it cute that they're trying to comfort you, so you decide to just tell them the truth.

"I'm just joking guys, I know that we're friends and I'll definitely do my best to cook some tasty food for you." They breath sighs of relief, and start chuckling at your joke.

"We should have known since Rex wasn't mad at us for hurting your feelings." Fives is right, if your feeling's really had been hurt then Rex definitely would have been mad, he's very protective of you.

"I can't believe you'll be on missions with us y/n, this is going to be fun." You can hear how excited Jesse is and you definitely agree with him, it's going to be interesting to say the least.

"I'm sure it will be." You smile at them when Rex leans over to whisper in your ear.

"You are finally going to see what I have to deal with, cyare." You chuckle at Rex, he's told you how crazy the boys can get on missions, and you're finally going to see exactly how crazy they are.

"I feel bad for you, cyare. You're going to be the only female among us." He smiles at you but you can see a little bit of the pain behind it, He still misses Ahsoka. It's only been two months since she's left but you still remember how upset he was, and still is. You remember how upset the whole 501st was to lose their little sister.

"I bet you money Commander Tano would be all over your Wolf form, you know how much she loves hair." Fives jokes, trying to bring the mood back up. It works, making everyone laugh. You remember how much Ahsoka loved touching different kinds of hair, you remember out of all the times you met her she'd always end up petting your hair.

"She definitely would." Rex agrees, he's happier but still a little bit sad, which is understandable. You lean over and kiss his cheek, Fives and Jesse both snickering before Rex stops them with a glare. At least he's been calm since his little freak out earlier, he hasn't transformed at all since then.

"Oh, Fives, do you mind getting a gunship to take me back to Coruscant tomorrow. I need to grab my things and tell my job that I won't be working for them anymore."

"Sure, I'll get one ready first thing tomorrow." You've got a lot to do tomorrow, you have to grab your things from your apartment, tell your boss that you won't be working there anymore. Make sure your landlord knows that you won't be living there 24/7.

"You're in charge tomorrow Fives, since I'll be going with, y/n." You turn towards Rex.

"You don't have to do that Rex, I can go by myself." Rex just shakes his head, turning and kissing your forehead.

"I want to come with you, it'll be fun." You shake your head, finding Rex adorable.

"I'm sure that it won't be fun, but if you want to." It's going to be tiring tomorrow with all the stuff you have to do. You can't wait to get it over and done with.

"I'm sure Rex just wants to get away from us, don't you Rex." You laugh at Fives, you know that he's right. Rex nods his head, not even trying to lie.

"Absolutely." Fives grabs his chest, right where his heart is.

"That hurts, Vod. That really hurts." You love watching Rex interact with his brothers, it's always hilarious but adorable at the same time.

You and Rex are both done eating so you decide to head back to his quarters, saying goodbye to Fives and Jesse.

"You to better call me next time you watch a holo-film. I love those."

"Don't worry Jessie, we will." You both turn around and leave hearing Fives call you guys.

"Me too!" You smile, Fives and Jesse are some of your best friend's, actually pretty much all your friends are clones, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

As you and Rex are walking down the hall you run into General Skywalker.

"Y/n, I've been meaning to talk to you."

"What is it General." You're confused, you don't know what the General would want to talk to you about.

"I already told you two, call me Anakin. But I had it arranged so that you can just stay with Rex while on leave. I didn't think that it would make sense for you to continue paying for an apartment when you'll hardly ever live in it." You can hardly believe it, you run over and give gener... Anakin a hug.

"Thank you so much, you didn't have to do that... Is it even allowed?" Anakin smiles mischievously.

"Not exactly... But I pulled a few strings, do did Obi Wan." You step away, so thankful that you can just keep living with Rex instead of having to go to your apartment during leave. Yes, Rex can come to your apartment but this is just so much easier.

"Thank you, sir." You laugh at Anakin's exasperated face, Rex still won't call him Anakin but you'll help.him get there.

"You're welcome Rex, we'll be shipping back out the day after tomorrow so make sure that y/n has everything she needs." You smile, Anakin is definitely one of the sweetest Jedi you've ever met.

"Yes, sir. We're going to get her things tomorrow."

"Good, I'll talk to you to later. I'll be off the ship until tomorrow night, I've got some business to attend to." You wonder what kind of business the Jedi would have, you forget about it when Rex grabs your hand and starts walking to his quarters again. You know that tomorrow is going to be exhausting but it will be worth it to live with Rex.

Taglist:

@captainrexisboo @tobitofunction @pentaghasm @ohmsjedi @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @ellie1366 @marine-captain-deku @reimet

[water--gang]

HI LOVE IM HERE SORRY IM LATE I HAD A WEEK IF U KNOW WHAT I MEAN

LOOK ITS A HUG

LOVE YOU ALSO I HAVE ICE CREAM

Only QUALITY in this house my sweet look how Epic and Zesty these look I low key want ice cream 🥺

Also NO WORRIES ON A LATE REPLY I fully understand that ur busy and stressed, I don’t have a problem with that!!

I’m sorry life hasn’t been treating u well :(( I hope the upcoming holidays will do their part in letting you breathe and feel better!! If nothing in particular has made u smile, that’s fine!! Though it might make you feel better to start paying attention to those things, as scarce as they might be. Maybe they’ll help cheer you up at some point! I know you made me smile a lot while I was in the UK and it really helped keep me going a lot!! You matter and I’m sure that you’ll find reasons to smile soon! You better or life can catch these hands fr I’m smol and as intimidating as a swarm of butterflies bUT that shan’t stop me and it WONT

and please make sure to get rested!!! Again I hope the break will give you more opportunities for sleep and I understand how tough that can be but I’ll cheer for you anyway!

And bc you asked, I’m doing okay! My assessments got a new due date for June so I have the weeks before the second semester to get some rest myself, and my cats bc I got CATS AND THEYRE AMAZING AND I LOVE THEM have been a big comfort to me!! I love them so muc 😭😭 and while my mental health is still on the brink, I’m in a better place now- so that’s good!! I’m seeing a counselor too now! I have a session tomorrow actually!! I got him to listen to seventeen dude I can’t he’s like in his 50’s right and I got him to listen to kpop he’s so wholesome 😭

BUT THIS IS ABOUT U

I saw ur post! Thank you for taking care in letting me know! I also won’t judge u if u like dreamsmp if that’s what ur referring too, I don’t watch it myself but I can definitely see how funny it is, I love watching quackity lmao he’s in it I think lmao

I’ve been referring to you as they/them since i saw ur bio (i talk about u to my two irl friends lmao) but thank you for letting me know!! I’m happy to use ur preferred pronouns, and if they change for any reason just lemme know and I’ll respect that too!!

LOVE YOU, I HOPE YOURE DOING OKAY AND THAT YOU’LL GET BETTER SOON ❤️❤️❤️ YOU DESERVE TO FEEL BETTER AND TO GET GOOD THINGS IN LIVE LOVE, PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF (you’ve been doing an amazing job!! Please keep it up I’m really proud of you!!) 💖💖💖

hey you never have to apologize for that yea? cause i mean look at me, i take fucken ages to respond

thank you for the hug, love!! consider me sending two right back:)) <3

ahhahaha daaaamn Three ice creams? what did I do to deserve so many

heh you say that yet you yourself apologize, let's just make a deal to not apologize for any of our late replies okay? cause we both can be stressed and busy and tired and who knows what and that's fine

i don't remember what holidays you meant but I'll go ahead and assume i was semi okay during those and then went right back to being fucked jdnfnd thank you tho:')

aww... i did? really? that's... that's really sweet. that makes me happy:') I'm glad i could do that

ahhahahaha looks like life has some hands incoming! and hey maybe life is afraid of insects and such in which case a swarm of butterflies would be terrifying, especially when it's coming straight at ya

awwwww you got cats!!!! what are their names??? awhh I'm glad you have them:'))

ohh glad to hear that! i hope your sessions have been going well and you've converted him into a proper kpop stan ahahah no but really i hope they're helping and you've managed to stay in a good place cause that's the least you deserve after enduring so much shit

you're welcome! you're my friend so I wanted you to know, yea hahah. aw what you've been talking about me to your friends??? ..... i don't know why that makes me so soft, i just.... didn't think anyone would consider me interesting enough to talk to other people about ahah thank you:') also i didn't think anyone would notice the change in my bio so the fact that you did and have been referring to me as such makes me really happy:'))) thank you so much, thank you for being so supportive and accepting <3 (fun fact, i got a haircut hehe i went from long hair to super short and honestly it feels so much more like me:') )

yep! i was in fact referring to the dream smp hahah, I'm... I'm deep in the dsmp hole jdnxkd all i know is sleep eat and watch dsmp ahahhah it's like really angsty as well tho, not just funny, i have cried multiple times watching it:)) ah yess quackity is one of the members! i recently watched his outlast vods

:')

can I just give you a big ol'

<3

heart, since i can't give you a hug, i am very upset it can't get bigger but we gotta make do with what we got, just imagine it's much much bigger altho that wouldn't capture all my appreciation and love anyway

unfortunately I'm bad with words so just: thank you. love you. i care about you and i hope you're doing well or will be soon. i appreciate every word you tell me. thank you so much. take care of yourself as well <3 thank you

— admin

[spc4eva]

Mandokar: Chapter Three

Summary: Sena must conquer her first battle to fully understand what it is to be Mandalorian and not a princess. The First Trial looms on the horizon, but the galaxy is not a kind place.

Word Count: 15,610

Rating: M (18+) for the end duckies

Trigger Warnings !! :  Latter part of the chapter has brief details of sexual assault (not to the main characters) please use caution.

Author Notes:  Remember that Jedi and Nobility tend to have 'English' accents. Whereas Outer Rim and regular blue collar people tend to have 'American' accents. Definitely something people would notice.

Crossposted on AO3

"What's going on with you and Aya?" Xivi asked during their routine practice. The girls were hanging upside down on the pullup bars seeing who could last longer. It was always Sena, but Xivi still tried to best her.

A month had passed since Aya began her minor infractions toward Sena. She'd been a lot more careful, especially to make a point not to use her full strength against her in combatives when they were stuck together, but there were times that the girl could've pulled her punches more. Rather than give her any satisfaction, she dealt with each blow and started to humiliate Aya when she had the opportunity to. Want to throw hard punches? Fine, Sena could dance around her like a squirrel beneath a clumsy troll. She could also strike just as hard, despite her size. The first time she'd planted a full on blow on Aya, she thought the girl was going to snitch. However, Aya kept her trap shut, thus Sena did as well.

On top of that, Aya continued to be annoying. Bumping her, tripping her, pulling her plait - anything she could do to get under her skin. Papa's words echoed through her head, words she had never heeded back in Genmaris. Be the bigger person. Never acknowledge those who bother you, in which case you'll hold the power, not them. So, she practiced her patience, each grinding, aggravating fiber of it and realized she did have power over Aya. Satisfaction would be derived from Sena throwing a fit and she had decided she wouldn't give her that luxury.

"Eh, she's still mad at me or something," Sena shrugged, trying to play it off and diminish the twinge of anxiety she felt each day wondering what Aya would try to do.

"Over inviting her to practice with us, still?" Xivi's voice hitched and she shook her head. "You should challenge her to a duel."

Sena snorted. "And lose?"

"Fair point," Xivi grumbled, almost forgetting that Sena would fail miserably at a hand to hand fight with the girl. "Well, if she keeps doing it, I'll fight her."

"Thanks, but it's not that bad."

"We're all vod . You didn't do anything wrong and if you did, she should challenge you for her honor, not skulk around and take her frustrations out on you. What happened to her buir sucks, but it's not like you shoved that in her face. She's being a shabuir because she's jealous of you."

Jealous? Sena blinked a few times. Was it really jealousy? She had just assumed that Aya was just hanging onto a grudge because she was hurting. Turning over a new leaf, Sena had not wanted to alienate her further by bringing this issue to the adults. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you're better at things than her. You're faster, smarter, and the teachers know that. Aya was never going to make a great hunter. Not before you got here and not since you've arrived. Then you show up, fast enough to keep up with Djarin, you have the teachers praising you, and y'know, it's history from there. I think she has a crush on Din, which is probably why she hasn't stopped."

"On that kriffing buckethead?" Sena chortled, watching as her friend swung her legs back down and touched the ground. What was there to like about Din Djarin? He barely talked and any brushes she had with him were curt. "I won again."

"We knew this was going to happen," Xivi grumbled, holding her head. "And why not? He's the top of the class."

Sena leapt down, sporting an elegant flip before sticking the landing like a loth-cat. Maybe there was attraction in mysteriousness, but Sena still thought he was annoying and not a good sport. They could’ve had a better rivalry if he didn’t act like he had a stick up his butt half the time.

"Show off," Xivi poked.

"But why do you say it like that? He barely talks to anyone, let alone me," Sena pointed out.

"Yeah, I know, but obviously Aya doesn't have a lot of brain cells or she would've realized you and Djarin are rivals," Xivi reasoned. "And he does talk to you more than most people."

" Lek , to be rude, not to profess his love for me."

" Vod of few words. Except for youuuu ," Xivi sang, clasping her hands together as she pretended to swoon.

" Ne'johaa ! You know it's not like that!" Sena hissed, cheeks burning beneath her bucket. "What about you and Kedth? You think I'm blind?" She tried to round the conversation on her friend, keenly aware that Xivi had been sitting next to the boy in class and doting on him. Sometimes he joined them for Mando'a studying and practice.

"I do like Kedth, but at least I'll admit it," Xivi snickered, hands planted on her hips as she made a silly, but mocking noise.

"I don't even know him! He's just all broody and quiet," Sena complained, trying to convince Xivi. While she enjoyed her rivalry with Din, because it kept her on her toes, she didn't know much more about him. In fact, she knew less about him than any of her other peers which she'd seen outside of class and trained with - with the exception of Aya.

"The two tops of the class, sitting in a tree, M-U-R-C-Y-"

Sena headbutted Xivi, taking her down to the ground where the girls scrambled in the grass, rolling around like playing pogs. A bit of giggling and squealing ensued as they fought for dominance, which was short-lived when Sena clamped onto her back and attempted to put her into a headlock. Xivi sat up and bashed her into the ground, winding her, before seizing the opportunity to throw her off. Tackling her down, Xivi restrained her, clucking in disappointment.

"You suck at combatives. You'll definitely lose if you fight Aya," Xivi told her as if it were glaringly obvious. "You should get your Ori'vod to teach you better."

"All Paz has to do is poke me and I'll break," Sena laughed.

"More like breathe on you."

"Alright, alright," she squirmed at the insults. Now this was just turning into a roast session. If it had been anyone other than Xivi, she might have taken offense. But from the first day, the two had clicked like a cartridge in a firearm, two bolts to be fired one after another. Finally, she was released and could sit up, frowning at all the grass stuck in her armor. Xivi stood up and wrenched her up to her feet, patting her off. "I'll get you back later. You know that I can sneak up on anyone in the Tribe and they'll never see it coming."

" Jai'galaar ," she brushed the shriek-hawk eyes on Sena's pauldron, painted in white. "Almost like you fly around when you're sneaking."

"One day we'll both fly. Once we get our jetpacks," Sena reminded her. Their Rising Phoenix drills weren't until next year, but everyone was still excited to start them and put all their theories and lessons into practice.

Returning home for the night, she was surprised to find that Paz wasn't lingering around. Instead, it was just her buir , set over the table with a simple dinner. Over the weeks, her tongue had become desensitized toward the spiciness, though nothing had been as hot as the first night where they'd intentionally over done the heat for a laugh. Now, she sort of liked the burn and the way it would clear her sinuses right up.

" Su'cuy buir ," she greeted, pulling her helmet off and going over to the sink to wash her hands. "Where's Ori'vod ?"

"Our for recon this week," Hux replied, waiting patiently for her to sit down with him.

"Oh he must be thrilled," she snickered, aware that Paz wasn't a fan of having to do stealth missions or having to navigate through landscapes and shoot azimuths. "Where did they go? It's not too hard to navigate around here. Unless you're trying to find a load of banthas instead of nerfs."

"Off plant. What are your plans for the weekend?" Hux inquired conversationally.

"Probably train with Xivi." Plans were loose and formed mostly on whim. Prior weekends mingled with a few other peers, but usually it was the same. Hang out, get some work done, talk about their academics, maybe shoot a little banter, but everyone was keen on keeping up with their work and not falling behind. Even young Terri was around often.

"Set in stone?"

" Nayc . Why?"

Hux creased a tempered smile at her, one that set her skin on fire and stood her hair on end. "Well, if you've got a little free time for your buir , I think I might have a few kal'e laying around."

"I'm free. All weekend. Never been freer," Sena informed him, her attempt to not seem hasty thwarted. Xivi wouldn't be upset if she wanted to spend time with her buir . She'd gotten to train with Paz often, trying to get better at her hand to hand combat, but Hux was almost always busy. Often he was gone on hunts to support the Tribe. Since being on the Kote , she hadn't been given another chance to show her buir how far she had come or train with him again. Now he was offering to play with knives with her. They hadn't done much knife combat in class yet, so getting ahead on this would be ideal.

" Jate . 0600 tomorrow morning. How are your classes going?"

The food was surprisingly savory today, mixed with root vegetables and rice. "Academics are easy still. I have learned quite a bit about land nav, which I also like. At least one Vizsla will have a brain cell devoted to reconnaissance."

Hux snorted into his ale, spewing a little. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Nidak tells me you've been having a little trouble with one of your vod ."

Her spoon froze and she very carefully lifted her head to look at him. Nibak had noticed? How much did she know? Nibak hadn't mentioned anything to her. "We don't get along, but it's alright. When it comes down to the wire, we're still vod ."

"Cut the princess diplomacy out," Hux's voice was hard and stern, drawing her eyes back up. She hadn’t heard this side of him since Anaxes when he had spoken to papa. It was cold, all beskar and blaster fire, and unyielding. "If this vod is insulting you, then you must face her. Ignoring her shows weakness."

" Buir , I can't fight her. She's twice my size. I thought if I was the bigger person she'd stop eventually." But it had been a month. How much longer should she wait before it turned into something that ended up getting her hurt?

"You make Clan Vizsla seem weak by tolerating it. What will you do when you begin hunting and face foes much larger than yourself? You will always be small. Did that stop you when you fought the stormtrooper?"

Her face was heating, eyes glaring down at her food at her buir 's scolding. "But I can't fight her with a knife. If I ask her to duel, then I'll have to do it hand to hand."

"Then do it. What is the worst that happens? You fail, but defended your honor?"

These words hung over the dinner table, pressing a heavy weight on her shoulders, going against what her papa had taught her. Fight? Of course she would if it came down to that, but wouldn't it be a dishonor to lose outright? "Ok," she whispered, washing down the lump in her throat with the mulled juice. "I'll challenge her on Monday."

" Jate ," Hux sat back, lightening considerably. "When you do it, make certain that others can see. Throw your glove at her feet and demand a fight. She can do it there or at a later time. The decision is up to the opponent.

"Do not doubt yourself. Paz tells me you are a better fighter than you give yourself credit for. Confidence helps in fights. If you think you are going to lose, you'll lose before the battle has even begun."

That was easier said than done. For all the skill she had, it could be overwhelmed in an instant if she wasn't careful. Aya was much stronger than her and it'd only take one good throw for Sena to be indisposed for too long. If she fought, she'd have to rely on every ounce of her agility to tire the pink buckethead out. She must've been glaring at her food still, because Hux let out a small sigh.

"You are doing well, ad'ika . You have the promise of a great hunter, but the path is not easy and there will be those who think you weak. If you let those people walk all over you, you shall suffer in the long term. Being a hunter is not only a physical skill, but one regarding respect. You cannot let Aya hold her dominance over you and ignore it."

The more she thought about it, the more she realized she'd let it go on for too long. Trying to be the bigger person, thinking herself so smug in the fact that she ignored Aya... Only to be shocked that it was quite the opposite. Aya was making the fool out of her and Sena hadn't even realized it. Maybe that's why Xivi had brought it up, trying to get Sena to pick a fight without outright telling her that she needed to. Xivi was trying to be a good friend and she appreciated her vod's tactful approach, but her buir had laid it out to bear. Fight Aya or disgrace the aliit further. There was only one choice.

Complicated. Why is everything so opposite here? she wondered quietly, enjoying the rest of the evening with her buir , settling on the couch to watch some holovids and relax. He wasn't papa, but Hux filled the shoes as best as he could. Not once had he made her feel unwelcome and since the adoption ceremony, had called and treated her as his daughter. To outsiders, the affection shared between the both of them over the course of such a brief time might seem odd, but Sena didn't think so. He wasn't like papa at all, but he was the only father she had now and Sena wasn't willing to let him go.

She fell asleep against his shoulder, only waking up when she felt herself being set down in bed. "Alarm clock-" she mumbled.

"I'll wake you up tomorrow, cyar'ika . Go to sleep."

‘Wake you up’ in Mandalorian is never a gentle term. Even if your buir tucks you in and gives you a keldable kiss goodnight, not waking up on your own came with risks. Sena woke up to the sound of an alarm blaring in her room, the high pitched squeal resounding from her buir's vambrace. The noise was as wretched and piercing as nails on a chalkboard. She toppled out of bed, hearing his muffled chortling through his modulator as he stepped out of the room and she groaned into the carpet.

" Vaar'tur !"

"Dank farrik-" she rubbed her ears, which were still ringing, cursing Hux's name beneath her breath. Cursing was developing into a rather bad habit for her, but then again everyone cursed here. Over the weeks, she'd learned how to dress swiftly, how to deftly attach her armor, and lace up her boots with a single, good yank. Tucking her ears away, she plaited her hair and threw her helmet on, blaster in its holster, and trotting out, barely having time to react as he threw her a piece of fruit for breakfast.

Eating fast also came with Mandalorian territory and this meant forsaking all her courtesy lessons. Rubbing the juice off her chin, tossed the core in the trash and ran out the door after her buir. "Where are we going?"

He had a duffle bag over his shoulder, striding out behind the house and toward the plains which were blushed with the sunrise. Slanting shades of amber and pink wrapped the hills in a warm, lovely embrace. She saw it every morning, but had always admired the beauty of nature, even if it was opposite of Anaxes. She wished she could smell it, but resolved to filling her diaphragm with air before wooshing out a wistful sigh, chased quickly with a grin.

"Meeting up with Fos," he retorted.

"Fos-" Before she could ask the next question, she saw the unpolished armor of the mando in question, flanked closely by his ad ; Din Djarin. Groaning quietly, she kept close to her buir, leveling a narrowed glare at the boy. Great. Couldn't even have a weekend together, it had to be with them. She didn’t know Fos very well, but it was obvious that her buir respected him from the subtle posture and leveling of his helmet as the two squared off in an acknowledging greeting.

With a thud, he set down the bag and began opening it, unfurling blankets filled with various daggers, knives, and blades. Her eyes grew round like golden suns beneath her helmet, ogling the arsenal as if it had been made in Manda for just her. A few were for practice, hewn of wood and balanced properly to simulate a regular blade. Until this point, there’d been little blade combat, only getting to use practice ones once since her arrival. “Pick the ones you want.”

Unable to resist, she tilted her helmet toward Din. “You heard him, ladies first.”

Din just leered at her silently, stiff and unmoving.

Fos chuckled, “Definitely your ad .”

She took it as a compliment, straightening slightly, but decided to spare Din and also wanted to pick first. Bending down, she swiped up the two largest, which weren’t quite swords, but also were too slender, curved, and angled to be dirks. One was longer than the other, the smallest half the length. “Shoto and tanto,” Hux told her, making her grin widely beneath her helmet. She already had names in mind if she was allowed to keep them. “Take a practice dagger as well.” Obeying, she took one, holding her prizes as she waited for Din to select his weapons.

He contemplated a little longer than her, which made her chew her lip, wondering if she’d been premature and if there was a cooler weapon than the two blades she took. Eventually, he settled with a long vibro-blade which reminded her of Paz’s Bantha-Sticker. Rather than pit the two kids together, the broke off and her buir began to explain the weapons that she had chosen.

“The shoto and tanto are good weapons for kyramud , which you will make one day when you are a hunter. See the curve of the blades and only one side which is sharpened? … These are made for slicing and while they can penetrate the skin in a stab, they are not used in the same manner as a double edged blade. There are variants on grips, which you know the standard, but showed interest in the reverse grip or icepick grip. For these weapons, a reverse grip would be useful as you can deflect blows with the flat of the blade rather than the edge. It is going to take a considerable amount of practice to know both grips, but it’ll suit your abilities quite well as you’ve proven before that you have talent with assassinations. Image what you could do in close combat with these?”

She leaned into every word, clinging like a life raft in an ocean, as Hux continued to teach her about the purpose, applications, pros and cons of the weapons. Since they were blades, she still had to be careful about positions she put herself in. Given her acrobatic abilities, in tight areas, she would win. A blaster was more difficult to maneuver and if she got the jump, her enemies would almost always fall from a swift addition of a second smile. Eventually, they moved on to apply the grips, the standard coming easily as she’d used knives before and the icepick requiring a bit more finesse. Fortunately, only one side was sharpened, so she wasn’t too worried about cutting herself.

Rotating through different forms, strengthening exercises, and strikes the day listed on and they broke for lunch in the grass. For once, Djarin came and sat beside her as she picked at the grass.

“What did your buir mean you have talent with assassinations?”

Ah, so it wasn’t to have a normal conversation, he’d overheard Hux and was curious. Either way, she supposed he wasn’t being a little shit. “When my aliit found me the Empire was attacking my home. My ori’vod got a little lost-” she chuckled lightly, realizing now he didn’t have the more stellar sense of direction. “-and cornered. I snuck up on a stormtrooper and cut his throat, buying Paz enough time to shoot the others. Wasn’t the most graceful thing, but I’d managed to go unnoticed and launch myself at one like a feral loth-cat. Got right in between the helmet and chestplate.” She marked on her own neck where she’d plunged the blade, skin prickling with a twinge of adrenaline at the memory.

“ You managed to sneak up on a stormtrooper?” he was disbelieving, as if her story had been made up to make herself sound cooler than she was.

Beneath her bucket, she frowned and narrowed her eyes at the boy. “ Yes , I did,” she sneered back haughtily. “You asked what my buir was referring to. That’s it. I know how to use a knife somewhat already.”

Returning to his brooding, she rolled her eyes and set her chin on top of her knees as she gazed out amongst the moors, rolling like green ocean waves. “I’ve not killed anyone yet,” Din muttered, gloves plunging into the grass, tearing handfuls out at the admission.

Oh. That’s what it was about? “It’s nothing to boast about,” she shrugged, but knew she was wrong there. Mandalorians prized battle prowess and the ability to neutralize targets. Sena already had her first kill and it hadn’t been with a blaster, it had been up close and personal. “Anyways, who’s keeping count. Unless… you want to, in which case I’m already winning.” Her trademark, dopey grin unfurled beneath her bucket as the boy jolted up and snapped his visor toward her.

“That’s not fair. You had a headstart-”

“ Not fair ? You’ve been training way longer than I have. Should be easy for you to beat me as soon as we’re allowed to hunt,” she countered airly, puffing her chest up and being as indignant as she could to ruffle his feathers. “I’m only ahead by one.” A macabre game, but one that would happen either way. They’d kill people. Her intention wasn’t to be sociopathic and purposely go looking for folks to murder. No, it would lighten the burden of those they did kill, making it easier to cope with the fact that their hands would spill so much blood. And it amused her that she was technically already beating Din.

“You’ll be ahead by one for a while ,” he pointed out, their training still slated for at least a couple more years before the covert would even consider taking them off planet.

“Fine, if you don’t want to play-”

“I’ll play,” he interrupted tartly.

“Well, as of right now you’re losing,” she announced gleefully.

“You said-”

“Still winning,” she boasted. “Plus, knife kills are way harder. Blaster just takes a trigger pull, does the rest of the job for you. What I did requires finesse, talent, and grace.” Now she was just milking it, seeing how far she could go before Djarin got irritated and just left.

“Considering you can’t use most firearms…” he drew his rebuttal out, making her scoff at him.

“ Hey! One day when I’m bigger I will be able to!”

“Bigger?” he gave her a one over, as if that were out of the question and she’d be as big as a Jawa her entire life.

“ Ne'johaa , Djarin!” she squeaked, giving him a shove that unbalanced him and made him fall over in the grass. “I just have to grow up. I won’t be this tiny all my life.”

Sitting up, he returned the shove, easily sending her flopping to the ground. Quickly, the pushing devolved into an all out brawl, the pair toppling in the grass and scuffling as the adults did nothing but watch on with amusement. “You’ll always be smaller than me!” he grunted between parrying her strikes. There were no rules right now, so anything was fair game. She wasn’t play fighting with Xivi, she wanted to pummel Djarin into the ground.

He flung her off by driving his boot into her belt, jetting his leg up to propel her over his head. Sena adjusted quickly, able to turn in the air to land on her knees. A glove locked around her wrist, but she wasn’t willing to be dragged up so quickly again. She bunched the strength in her knees and headbutted Din’s bucket hard enough that her teeth rattled. Both sprung to their feet, Djarin threw the first open palmed strike, which she ducked beneath. She’d only get a few good chances to land a decent blow and his guard was much better than anyone else she had faced until this point.

Coiled like a serpent, she bided her time, turning blows rather than letting the entire shock of parrying hit her small frame. Paz had taught her that, telling her that parrying would hurt her more than glancing or diverting. Since she was light on her feet, she shouldn’t ever need to parry unless she was injured or cornered. Strike, strike, turn, strike. Then she saw it, the small opening which she could dive through. Jolting for it, she realized in horror that it had been a trick to bring her closer and she didn’t have the time to evade as Din leaned into his feint. Her palm still met his chest, driving a puff of air through his vocoder, but he caught her by the same wrist and threw her right to the ground.

The battle was lost, the impact squeezing every ounce of air from her lungs as she gasped like a fish out of water. Taking the dominant mounting position, he raised his hand in a strike, waiting for her to tap out. She squirmed a few times, but knew she had been beat. “ Fine! ” she relented, glad that he wasn’t putting his full weight on her.

What he did next absolutely surprised her, getting up from the ground and offering her a hand up. She accepted, easily wrenched up to her feet, able to hear the fluttering of her heart in her ears, breathing hard, but elated from the thrill of the battle. Her pride was a little wounded, but it wasn't as if she thought she would win. Din had years of training on her. Despite that, the fact he was top of the class made her want to best him to prove to her buir that she was an asset to Clan Vizsla, not some soft little princess. He was the biggest hurdle to leap, because Paz was way too far off from her capabilities. All her brother had to do was bear hug her and she couldn't lift a finger. Djarin was bigger than her (as were most people) but at least she had the confidence to stand toe to toe with him.

Lunch ended and they picked back up on their lessons for the remainder of the day. She learned quite a bit, but also knew that her skill would require repetition. Nothing could be earned in an instant. Silently, she was debating when she would slot the time after classes to keep her blade training, contemplating doing it after the sun had set and her work with Xivi was finished. After dinner she usually just had her tea, but Paz and Hux wouldn't bother her if she went outside in the back to practice. She could still get plenty of sleep and squeeze in a couple of hours to hone herself. Out of everything she'd done until this point - aside from running and obstacle courses - playing with the knives was her favorite.

"Keep those and maybe one day you'll be able to forge them of beskar," Hux told her, handing her the sheathes for them.

The shoto and tanto were made of durasteel, strong enough to rend some armor, but also requiring sharpening and care. They could be fractured or chipped more easily than beskar. Taking her new toys with her to bed, she took paint to the holsters and wrote their names on them in Mando'a runes; the shoto was Cu'Sith and the tanto Pog-Sticker. The girl was so excited, that she fell asleep with them in her arms, tucked into bed, forgetting to set her alarm again, dreaming about running through the forests of Genmaris.

Shrill screeches thrust her out of bed again, her buir huffing in mild disappointment as she didn't tangle herself in her blankets and fall out of bed. Either way, his icy eyes gave her a hard look before he left the room and she groused underneath her breath. Her disdain was short lived as she dressed up and scampered out of her room, catching the fruit, and scarfing it down before trotting after Hux. She wished every weekend was like this, with the exception of Din Djarin and instead being replaced with her brother. She had found comfortable positions to strap her blades onto her, equipped on her belt, where they would remain permanently. None of the other vod in her class had such amazing kal'e .

By this point, Sena had decided that she wanted to live and breathe everything about knives and blades. Her inability to use a good amount of firearms while she was still so slight led to her predisposition to ask an unrelentless amount of questions. Hux had her work with some throwing knives, the vibro-blades vibrating with power between her fingers as she tried to learn how to toss them, rotating the handle to her pads, and aiming to plunk it into the center of the targets. She wasn't any good at it, which was sort of aggravating, seeing that she wanted to be good at it, but Hux reminded her that perfection took lots and lots of practice.

When school came on Monday, she found herself still so overhyped with her amazing weekend, that the thought that she had to challenge Aya was in the back of her mind. Look at these cool new weapons! No one else had a shoto or tanto! She made certain to show her friends, but was careful not to say the name of her shoto, as it was an animal indigenous to Anaxes. Standing outside at lunch, Kedth, Xivi, Terri, and Oyiin were clustered around her, showing off their own vibro-blades, which all looked like little toothpicks in comparison to her awesome new swords.

"And what are you going to do with those, vaar'ika ?" Aya couldn't contain herself from butting in, drawn in by the comradery of the group - one that she did not share with them. Spiteful and teasing in her tone, the others tilted her helmets up and Sena knew why. By this point, it was no secret that Aya had been picking on her, though Xivi was the only one who had brought it up until the point. The others kept their mouths shut, knowing it wasn't their place to try and tell Sena how to approach the situation.

"Stick pigs," Sena answered darkly, holding her tanto in an icepick grip. "Want to be the first?"

Everyone was astonished by her uncharacteristically menacing words. Sena was typically lighthearted and goofy, mild mannered, and helpful when she could be. She did have a bit of a temper when it came to friendly rivalries with her peers, but she'd always chosen diplomacy over threats until this point. Buir had been right - cut the princess shit out.

Aya was just as taken aback, eventually finding her words as she barked a laugh in an attempt to brush it off. "Got something to say to me, Vizsla?"

" Lek , I do," she shoved her tanto back into its sheath with a loud click, sauntering forward with her shoulders thrown back. Reaching for her right glove, she pulled it off in the slowest, most methodical manner she could - one single finger at a time - before throwing it down at Aya's feet. "I challenge you to a duel for insulting the honor of Clan Vizsla. Name the time and date." Despite the calm voice, her heart was beating erratically and she could have sworn everyone could hear her heavy mouth breathing. She was going to lose, but she couldn't let that show.

Flabbergasted that Sena had finally snapped, Aya's visor just tilted down at the glove. Finally, she laughed again. "Today after class. Out by the obstacle course."

" Koor ," taking her glove, she returned amongst her friends, face billeting with heat beneath her helmet as she tried not to feel absolutely sick. The beat down was coming and even her buir 's words about being more confident didn't change the fact that she was half Aya's size.

Xivi slapped her on the back reassuringly. "Kick her shebs today. Maybe she'll get her head out of there."

"Just tire her out. She might be bigger than you, but she's got no stamina. You could run circles for hours," Kedth added, squeezing her pauldron. "'Bout time. Xivi and I were talking about catching Aya after class one day. Glad you challenged her."

"You were?" Sena blinked a few times, some of her nerves slipping away.

" Lek ! She's been insulting you when you did nothing wrong," Kedth hissed, crossing his arms over his chestplate. "We're all vod . We help each other out. She's been pushing Terri around too."

Terri nodded slowly. "I think she just likes to push those that are a lot smaller than her. Hut'uun. "

She had not been aware of that, but felt her frown deepen beneath her helmet. Beating on Sena was one thing because they were closer in age, but Terri? Terri was 10! All the pity she'd once felt for Aya was gone. Even if there were churning emotions that estranged her from the rest of the group, that didn't give her the right to take it out on the smallest in her class. Empathy could only go so far and the rest of the vod were getting fed up with the behavior. At least, this way, Sena could save Aya the embarrassment of getting her shebs kicked by multiple people.

"If you get the opening, give her a good one right here," Oyiin tilted his head up and pointed to the base of his jaw. "You know how to plant your strikes. That will take her down."

For the remainder of lunch, her friends gave her pointers, which considerably bolstered her confidence. They thought she could win! It was true that Aya was out of shape in comparison to her, so maybe she could just wear her down to the point where one good hit would render the fight. According to the rules of a duel, there was only a loss if one of them was rendered unconscious or forfeited. This meant that bones could be broken and the fight could still continue. Word spread like wildfire, though the mandos in Paz's class were still out on their recon.

By the time class ended and Sena was pumping herself up for the fight, all of her classmates had mustered out by the course. But not only just them. Thak, Nibak, Fos, Hux, Bhone, the Armorer, the Smith, and Rhenx were also in attendance along with Lolli and a few of the children, including Zim. In a moment, all the confidence she had shattered into a million pieces as she comprehended how important this fight actually was. Half of her had been expecting that it was just going to be her 10 peers watching, not their teachers and parents.

"Hey, good luck today," Djarin stopped her before she headed down the hill, giving her a hard look. Those were the nicest words she'd heard from him.

"Gonna kriffing need it," she snorted, wringing her hands together before approaching where she was gonna get her shit kicked in.

Her buir motioned for her to come over, her chest tightening as she trotted up to Hux and gazed up with wide, horrified eyes. He crouched down in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "No matter what happens today, you defended the clan's honor," he reminded her, bumping her helmet with his. "You are not a hut'uun ."

He had to have felt her shaking, the palpable fear rolling off of her, thankful for her bucket to hide her paling face and sagging ears. Removing her weapon belt, she handed it off to him and approached Aya who was waiting between the small crowd that was gathered. Towering over her like a mountain to a hill, Sena stepped up to the plate.

"Can still withdraw your offer, naar'ika ," Aya offered smugly.

"Scared?" Sena spat back indignantly.

"I'm not pulling my punches today," she growled.

They both turned around, walked three paces, faced each other and the fight began. The words of encouragement and tactics her friends had given her were running through her mind. She'd taken down a stormtrooper. Aya wasn't as big as that soldier. Anything was fair game. Patience was not her opponent's virtue and it was obvious the pink buckethead wanted to throttle her into the ground. Light and limber on her feet, Sena darted around her, dodging punches and open palmed strikes like a dragonfly in the wind - impossible to catch, illusive, and swift. There were noises around them, cheers, comments, and taunts. But she heard nothing.

Only the calm buzz in her ears, the hyperfocus as she predicted Aya's clumsy moves. Strength might be on her side, but she did not practice. The months leading up until this point were Sena's advantage as well as the wrath which propelled the other girl forward. Seeing only red when there was much more to observe. The minute plants of Sena's toes as she glided on the grass, once rolling out of the way, another time evading a grab as if she were made of mist. Aya was getting slower, expending too much energy in trying to catch a ghost and each movement Sena observed and calculated. They were done in sloppy rotations, harping upon the forms they would use in class. There was no independent thinking or tactful readjustment. Aya was only using what she had learned, rather than fighting with instinct.

The moment came, the desperation creeping into Aya's weary muscles as she charged at Sena. Bunching her muscles, the Anaxian was coiled like a nexu ready to pounce - and she did. Vaulting, she sprung over Aya as she tried to throw herself down to meet Sena's crouching form. Her left boot planted on the pink bucket like it was a swaying tree branch in Genmaris. The impact unbalanced her opponent, causing her to fall; Sena flipping gracefully like she had after dropping from the pull up bars with Xivi on multiple occasions. Sticking the landing like a loth-cat hopping down from its perch, she rounded and drove with breakneck haste. Aya was stumbling to her feet, a hand placed on her knee as she panted. Her helmet tilted up and Sena saw the exact location Oyiin had told her about.

Sena threw her first punch.

Her fist cracked back after connecting with the exposed jaw of Aya. Pain exploded in her knuckles, but she didn't pull back. Swaying, Aya dropped like a stone, thumping onto the ground, groaning and still choking for air. " Ori'jagyc, " Sena declared, turning around, aware that she had won. She had kriffing won. How the hell was that possible? Her eyes went down to Zim as he squealed in delight, pointing and babbling loudly to Lolli. "Zim’ika, wha-" her words were strangled out of her throat as a bicep curled around her from behind. Lifted entirely off the ground, she kicked futilely as her vision began blurring immediately.

Shouting ensued and she was dropped to the ground, her chest heaving as she drank in the air, confused as to what had just happened. Hux was bent over her, snarling in Mando'a and she saw why. Craning her head, Aya had been thrown to the ground again as she sobbed loudly, being reprimanded by Thak who had peeled her off of Sena.

"You have lost! Attacking an opponent from behind in a duel is cowardly!" he was snarling, the rage that Paz once warned her about, bubbling over. It was true. She had never seen her teacher this furious before, his words lancing into the air with vindication enough for all the spirits in Manda to hear "How dare you! You insult the honor of the Tribe and our ways!"

But rather than listen to him continue to berate her, she felt her attention drawn back up to her buir . " Kandosii! Kandosii !" her repeated, just loud enough for her to hear, but with fervor and insistence. The earnesty and depth of his words tethering her back to reality, grounding her. "I'm so proud, cyar'ika. So proud."

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes at his praise, nodding into his helmet as he squeezed her shoulders. Silently, she let them slip down, her heart still beating rapidly, blinded by the water in her eyes as he continued to mutter to her.

"You will make a great hunter, cyar'ika, " he insisted, bringing her up to her feet, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Everyone had remained, much to her chagrin, and she hoped they hadn't heard her sniffling. She hadn't been crying because she was upset or hurt by Aya's last grab, but because she was utterly overwhelmed by her emotions. Between the shock of her win to her buir 's congratulations, she had brought honor to Clan Vizsla and it almost made her heart explode with pride. For the first time in her life, Sena felt as if she truly belonged. Surrounded by all her vod , by her adopted father, and finally having purpose, she was soaking her face with tears beneath her bucket. Sena had never wanted to be a princess and get married and waste her life away in a gilded cage. She had wanted this. Acknowledging that it had cost all of Anaxes for this to happen - hurt.

"We knew it! We knew you could beat her!" Xivi bowled into her, drawing her out of her buir 's grasp and squeezing the life out of her.

"That was Kandosii! " Terri squealed. "The way you flipped over her! And how you were so evasive! I didn't know you were so agile!"

"She can do all sorts of tricks," Xivi gushed. "I think there's a nexu under that bucket, not a Sephi."

"Nice strike!" Oyiin had trotted over, pretending to plant the punch that had won the fight. "Told ya it'd knock her out."

"Thanks. Thanks all of you," Sena told them with her hoarse, choked up voice. "I honestly thought I was going to lose."

"What?! Why would you think that?" Terri squeaked in astonishment.

"Because she was so much bigger than me-" And Sena had been afraid, so afraid that she'd be broken beneath Aya's strength.

"Size isn't everything," Kedth reminded her. "You just proved that. You brought a lot of honor to Clan Vizsla today. Too bad your ori'vod wasn't here to watch that."

Sena wished Paz had been there, but shrugged her shoulders and grinned beneath her helmet. "There will be many more battles in the future he can witness. Maybe next time I'll actually get to use my kal'e ."

"Djarin's got to watch out now. Sena's gonna be vu'traat . Gonna give everyone a run for their credits," Oyiin jested, eliciting a braw bit of laughter.

"She trains like vu'traat ," Xivi admitted grudgingly. "How many hours a day do you train after school?"

"Until bed, but that's because I had a lot of catching up to do and I'm still smaller than everyone," Sena told them sheepishly. Her win had been a fluke in her mind. Any of her friends could easily best her because they were in much better shape than Aya was. Din had proven that just over the weekend and she wasn't bloated headed enough to think that Aya was a huge accomplishment - though she was preening in the fact that she had actually done it.

She lingered with her friends a bit longer before returning home, where Hux taught her how to make uj'alayi . Instead of normal dinner, they had the cake to celebrate, her buir pointing out what she had done correctly during her fight. Still riding the high from the fight, she went out at dusk to practice her kal'e. Moonlight slanted over the moors, casting a long shadow in front of Sena as she went through her forms; slashing, turning her grips, maintaining proper spacing of her legs.

Slicing moonbeams with durasteel, she bathed in the glow, the wind in the grass tickling the calves of her boots. Turning swiftly, she paused when she saw the ethereal starlight glancing down on unpainted beskar. Lowering her shoto and tanto, she stood like a solemn sentinel in the night, wondering why he was there. Rather than get any answer, only the wind sighing through the grass murmured a repy, punctuated by a nerf's moo.

Peace shattered by the cattle, Din took a step toward her and stuck his hand out. "Want to see something?"

She cocked her head at the invitation, staring at his hand, wondering what it meant. Finally, she sheathed her weapons and took it. Pulling her away from the covert, over the soft rolling hills, and far from the protection of their people they ran. Past the crowds of cattle and toward the moon's face they went. Sena should have been more nervous about going so far away, about getting in trouble with her buir for straying. But she was with a vod , nothing could go wrong, could it? He was top of the class.

Cresting a large hill, she glanced down toward a pool that reflected the stars on a mirror smooth surface. Sliding down the steep sides, they approached the edge of the pond, which shimmered a pale milky white as if it were filled with star dust and moonlight. There was a single tree off to the side, shading part of the water, branches spindling out like knobby fingers flecked with verdant leaves. This was the first tree she'd seen in months.

"I come here sometimes," Din told her, letting go of her hand. "You're from Naboo, so I thought you might like to see water again."

While the water was a welcome sight, she was more enthralled with the tree. No words escaped her lips as her breath pelted against the inside of her helmet. She began walking toward it, her feet quickening until she was running. Colliding with the trunk, she pressed her steel cheek against it and shuddered, wishing that she could feel the kiss of the wood on her face. When her chest had stopped heaving, she glanced up and located the nearest branch. Bunching her muscles, she jumped, gripped the branch and swung herself up and over. Landing neatly on top of it, she began to climb higher and higher, reaching for the moon. At the summit, she stood to her full height, grinning widely beneath her helmet.

Sucking in a deep breath, she let out a howl into the air, like those ones that Cu'Sith would make in the woods. Djarin froze beneath the shadow of the tree, having observed her weave her way up.

His petite vod was baying like some kind of wild animal, the moonlight turning her long dark braid nearly white as it basked her. She had conquered the tree, just as she had defeated Aya. In the way she had fought and the way she had slipped up the tree with feral grace and dexterity unlike any human he'd watched. Din didn't know what a Sephi was other than the fact that they had pointed ears. He'd heard of Naboo, because Gungans lived there and people liked to joke about them. Whatever the Sephi were, they did not move like humans - Senaar did not move like a human.

She howled again, making him flinch. This was his hideaway. His place to calm down and practice if he couldn't sleep. After watching her fight Aya, without so much as being touched, he'd decided he would show her. Now, he was glad that he had, her joy palpable even from where he stood down below. After the third cry, she began to maneuver down and made his heart jump up into his throat when she hung from a high branch, swung back, and then launched herself. The height was enough to break a man's knees upon impact. Senaar listed downward, before colliding with the ground. There was no grunt of pain, nor cracking of bone. Palm against the grass, her legs absorbed the shock of the impact and she remained for a brief moment before standing; unharmed.

"Thank you," she told him, still breathless and his readers picking up on the pure bliss in her modulated voice. "You don't know what this meant to me. To see a tree again, after-" her tone cracked and she glanced back, staring at it.

After whatever that had happened to her had brought her here amongst the Tribe. Din knew the answer, because he'd noticed it in her. The other children in their class had been raised Mandalorian. After hearing her tell the story about killing a stormtrooper, he knew that they were more alike than he cared to admit. War had taken their homes from him and so he had wanted to share this little space away from the rest of the covert.

"You earned it today, vod ," he shrugged, trying not to seem as if he cared too much. The last thing he needed was his rival to think there was more to this than a casual favor between kindred souls.

"We should head back. It's late," Sena pointed out, visor still tilted in the direction of the tree as if she were afraid it would get up and walk away. She offered her hand to him, just as he had done upon entreating her to trust him.

Din's heart fluttered a little before he took it.

10BBY

"Pack up your arsenal," Paz ordered his vod'ika , shining his helmet and the new beskar cuirass that he had set on the table in front of him. They had to look damn good today. It was an important day for her and as her mentor, it would also be pertinent that he looked just as stellar. His eyes trailed fondly toward Senaar, a smile creasing the corners of his lips as she went through her blades. The kriffing brat had so many now. Mostly because their buir kept giving her more, arming her to the teeth. Even if she'd been too small to use rifles and shotguns a few years ago, she'd grown into her skin and hiked up a few inches. Naturally, as an Anaxian, she was light boned and slender, but she was of a more average human height, growing like a weed overnight.

She had repainted her helmet, taking the same dark sherwood green as their buir , framing her visor with shimmering gold paint. Marked upon the crown were golden teardrops, reminiscent of her people's Goddess Marks. Now, her vambraces were also of beskar, inky green and gold, adorned with a hidden blade on the inside of her forearms. Buttons for the Kote , a whipcord launcher, and poison darts. A pistol on her bandolier, framed by her shoto and tanto. Leather had since been replaced with durasteel, painted like her helmet and embroidered with more tears. Her pauldrons had golden Jai'gaalar eyes, which winked at Paz.

His vod'ika was growing up. The young man could've shed a tear for how far she had come and how impressive he thought she was now. All fangs and claws, with kriffing knives tucked in nearly every crany imaginable. She was obsessed , giving each one a stupid name, mostly ending in '-Sticker'. Around her thigh was a band of throwing knives and a ragged, slightly fringed cloak of pine green. While similar to their buir' s, she had told him her inspiration was Anaxes and the forest surrounding Genmaris - an homage to a planet and people that no longer existed.

"Think I've got it all," she told him, her voice not half as squeaky as it had been when they’d met outside the palace gardens.

"Check again. I'm not coming back here because you forgot some kriffing tiny kal ," Paz snorted, loading his heavy blaster and standing up to begin strapping on his armor. " Buir has given us the Kote to do this. I've got the fobs for your hunt."

"That knife wasn't tiny last time! I literally forgot Pog-Sticker," she snarked, crooking a finger in his direction, patting the tanto fondly.

"I don't know how you forgot that one, it's basically your left arm," Paz retorted, bickering with the 16 year old.

"Well if someone didn't insist I take my belt off for hand to hand combat practice-" she returned with just as much bite as him, causing him to roll his eyes at her.

It was all in good nature. Neither of them were often authentically pissy with each other. Sibling banter. To them it was endearing, even if it just seemed like a bunch of hissing. "Will you two shut up? Get out of the house. I need some peace and quiet from you!" Hux poked his head out of his room to grouse at the both of them.

"Why? Have a lady friend coming over?" Sena went right for the kill, Paz trying to hide his chortling behind his hand.

" GET OUT !" Hux thundered, closing his door before his children devolved into malice filled laughter in the karyai .

They both picked up their travel packs, saddling them over their shoulders before heading for the door. Sunlight was quickly filtered by their visors, the village humming with activity as various students in Sena's class were preparing to go out for their First Trial. Each was shadowed by an older mando, be that their buir or an ori'vod like Paz. Fortunately for them, they didn't have to share a ship since Hux owned the Kote . On their way to the landing area, they passed Din and Fos. Paz chuckled as Sena flipped off her friend, which caused Djarin to just stare forlornly, wondering what in Caraya's Soul he had done to deserve that. Sena was just a brat and now had a terrible habit of flipping off all her friends, to include Paz as well.

"So when are the two of you exchanging riduurok ?" he teased, aware that she was sensitive about any subject that encouraged romance.

Sena sputtered underneath her helmet at the suggestion. "Zim’ika will have a heart attack if I marry anyone other than him. Y'know, I promised," she answered, deflecting entirely. The kid loved her to death, the moment he’d set eyes on her bucket, deciding that Sena would forever be the female of his dreams. Paz thought it was amusing, because while it was cute now, Sena had no idea what trouble she was in for when he was actually an adult.

"Come now!" Paz bellowed, hooking an arm around his sister's shoulders and drawing her in as they walked. "You're getting to that age now. The birds and bees-"

She groaned loudly, trying to worm out of his grasp, but he was much too strong and had mastered the ability to keep her from slipping his hold like an eel. "Stooooop. I already hear it enough from Xivi. Not you too!"

"Xivi is clever, that's why. You must've given a few of your brain cells to her over the years," Paz rumbled, pressing his vambrace to lower the dock to the Kote .

"I'm a Vizsla. Everyone knows we each only have one," she retorted glibly, her stupid smile audible in her voice.

"And to think you were so bright-eyed and bushy tailed when you got here," he feigned wist, shaking his head as he clucked.

"You corrupted me, ori'vod . It's all your fault," she blamed as they started up the platform.

"Vizsla!"

Dropping his arm from around Sena's shoulders, the both of them turning to see who'd called their names. At the base of the gangplank stood Hyvhast, one of Paz's peers, in muddy brown armor highlighted by stripes of moss green. " Oya! " he bid with a wave, wishing them a triumphant hunt. Paz was aware that there were ulterior motives, his vod having expressed interest in his little sister. Growling quietly under his breath, he slammed the door shut in his friend’s face.

Humming to herself, Sena trotted off to toss her bag onto a bunk in the crew quarters. Paz used the captain's quarters since he was in charge in their buir 's stead. He was a full hunter now, having passed his Second Trial. Keeping a close eye on his vod'ika , he'd watched her improvement and growing into her own skin. Every Mandalorian was different, which had been hard for her to accept in the beginning. Smaller than her peers, weaker strength wise, to the point where she wasn't allowed to shoot anything more than a pistol on the range - he'd known it had been difficult to swallow at first. Still light boned like a shriek-hawk, she'd passed the most worrying bit of her training.

Understanding where her talents laid, Senaar had dug her heels in and became the unofficial blades specialist of the Tribe. Her love of kal'e the subject of loving teasing amongst the Tribe. Jokes included that any child she had would be born holding daggers. Even if she was disinterested, she was coming of age and becoming the fixation of many available bachelors. Once she passed her First Trial, she would be open for hunting - or as non-Mandalorians considered it - courting. Ironically, none of them knew the exotic creature beneath the helmet, aside from the fact that she was 'Sephi'. She was precious and Paz was keen on protecting her from any unwarranted advances or overinsistent suitors. Most were his age, which made him even more disdainful over the fact that they were interested in at 16 year old like that. But aside from Djarin, she was top of her class and favored by Elder Rhenx the Alor .

He might've teased her about her relationship with her rival and peer, but Paz decided he liked the quiet Djarin better than half the hunters that were asking for his blessing when they returned from the Trial. The other teen was hyper focused and talented and absolutely atrocious at expressing how he felt. Paz had long suspected that Din might like his sister, but the idiot hadn't done anything aside from ask Paz for some hand to hand combat lessons, trying to glean Vizsla life a little better. He knew that Djarin wasn't expecting the copious amount of yelling that occurred in their karyai or the verbal assault he faced from the grouchy head of the clan or from Sena, whose favorite thing to do, was complain about everything . Apparently, she was much more mild mannered in class.

Sena's blatant disinterest in suitors pleased him and Paz might've had something to do with that, telling her she had ages to get married and settle down. She wanted to be a hunter. Her head wasn't filled with romance, it was filled with blood lust. Again, he might've... uhm, helped with that, but he was her ori'vod . To him, no one was worthy of the princess beneath the beskar'gam . Plus, he doubted most of the Tribe could actually handle living with her and were just attracted to her prowess.

"Paaaaaaazzzzz," she shouted for him in the cockpit, her voice echoing throughout the ship.

Leaving the captain's quarters behind, he climbed into the cockpit to see her sitting in the pilot's seat. Her helmet was cocked on the edge of the dash, dark lashes framing vibrant eyes on copper tan skin.

"Where's the Guild we're going to? Planet?"

Ah, right. He'd forgotten that he had stowed the inactive fobs. They would need to check in with the Guild before officially being sent off. To keep from too many members of the Tribe showing up at the same Guild, they had coordinated who would get which planet. "Dadrus."

"Solid," she muttered, starting up the ship, flipping a few switches, before her gloves settled on the controls and they squeaked from the tightening of her fingers. Taking the Kote off the ground, she began moving to get them out of atmo. "Any idea what these bounties are?"

He shook his head. "They're handed out randomly as not to show favoritism toward a specific group," he informed her, plopping down in the co-pilot seat. His job was to step in if needed, but Sena had to fly the ship, navigate them to the right planet, pick up the job, do the job, hand it in, and then return back to the covert with her reward. "Depending on the bounties, they pay more if you bring them in alive. Sometimes they don't care, but we'll throw them into carbonite either way."

Bounties were quite popular right now amidst the war for the galaxy. None of that was their business, but plenty of others had bets levied and people they needed to find. They wouldn't be bothered by the Empire as long as they flashed their fobs and mentioned being on Guild business. Paz hated encountering them, his blood rushing at the thought of what they had done to Anaxes. There was no doubt that Sena felt the same way and wouldn't be opposed to gifting more stormtroopers with second smiles on their gorgets. Such a beautiful planet and culture, erased, because they wouldn't submit to the Empire's will. Were there any other survivors aside from Sena?

Leaving the grassy moors of Vorp'ya, they broke atmo and Sena began plugging in coordinates. She listed through the hyperlanes, mapping the correct coordinates to start for the other Outer Rim planet, frowning at the calculations coming back. It would take them four days to reach Dadrus at the quickest the Kote could move. She attempted to find a swiffer route, to map between lanes, but couldn't pull any quicker numbers.

"Fuck," she grumbled.

"It'll be four days then," he shrugged, wondering why she was so bitter about it. Dadrus wasn't right next to them and it wasn't uncommon that hyperspace might take a few days.

"I made a bet," she continued grumpily.

"With whom?"

Sparing a glance back from her molten gold eyes, he knew. Her rival: Djarin.

"What did you bet?" Paz was actually impressed, but that quickly faded.

"Nothing more than bragging rights," she groaned as if that were the worst thing in the galaxy. Out of all the kriffing things they could have bet, it was just that? Maybe Din thought it was worth it, because Sena had such a huge amount of pride that losing would get under her skin for months - maybe even years.

Idiot, Paz complained silently. "Who knows how long of a trip he's got to make it his destination. Four days isn't that long."

"In addition to wherever we have to go to collect the bounty and then return it to Dadrus. Then we've got four days to return to Vorp'ya," she reminded him astutely. "At the very least, I expect we're going to be out 10 days."

"Then we'll just have to keep ourselves busy, won't we, vod'ika ?"

Punching the hyperdrive with the petulance of a Foundling on the brink of a tantrum, she muttered to herself.

"What, spending some bonding time with your ori'vod that grim of a prospect?" Paz pouted.

The angsty look she threw at him made him laugh. "It might be depending on what the hell you're going to tease me about."

"I'll lay off about Djarin," he promised, but crossed his fingers behind his back. "Come back down to the karyai . I've got a surprise."

Highly suspicious, his little sister followed him out of the cockpit as the ship chugged onward using auto-pilot. Plopping down cross legged onto a pillowed seat at the table, she folded her arms and waited expectantly. Cracking open the cooler, he pulled out growlers of ne'tra gal. She arched a dark brow at him. "Before the mission?"

"We've got four days," Paz pointed out, placing them on the table and retrieving a set of cups. "Let's play a game."

"Of course there's a catch," she narrowed her eyes at him, drawing the offered cup over toward her. "So, what's this game?" Taking a dagger out, she used the hilt to pop the cap off of the growler in front of her, the ale hissed slightly, frothing but not touching the rim of the container.

"Truth or dare," he challenged, opening his growler. " Ni dinu. "

"I've already opened it!"

"Looks like you're playing," Paz shrugged nonchalantly.

" Shebs ," she muttered, pouring herself a cup. "What are the rules then?"

"Truth, you ask a question. If you refuse to answer it, then you have to finish your cup. Dare, you have to do the dare. Again, if you refuse it then you have to finish your cup."

"Then why wouldn't I just do dare everytime?" Sena pointed out.

Paz laughed, but did not elaborate. "Start then."

"Dare."

"I dare you to open the dock."

Sena just leered at him, her bright eyes blinking slowly. "WHAT THE KRIFF! How am I supposed to do that?!" she roared, seizing her cup as she began to chug it.

"You said dare," Paz chortled in his minor victory.

"You're the worst."

"I pick... truth."

"So what's going on with you and Voomri?" she piped, her voice becoming sickly sweet as she inquired about a female mando that Paz, most certainly, did not like. Not that this mattered, because Voomri would spare every moment she had doting on him, all but hanging on him in an attempt to start the hunting cycle with him.

Paz growled, picking up his cup and draining it. "Your turn."

"Dare."

"You know where this is going, vod'ika ."

"DARE."

"I dare you to go for a swim in hyperspace."

The game continued like this, the both of them too stubborn to answer questions or relent in their impossible dares. Smacking his sister much sooner than him, she sagged over the table, a hand on her brow as she propped up her face, eying the other half of her ale dubiously. "Truth," she groaned.

Squirming delightedly in his seat, he placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward to grin at her. "Do you like Djarin?"

She gave him a venomous glare, picking up her drink, considering it for another moment. "Like how? Can I ask questions?"

"Enough to date."

"Why are you going to pummel him if I say yes?" she retorted snidely.

"Answer the question."

"I don't like anyone that way. I'm not interested in relationships like that currently," Sena answered honestly. "He's my friend, so yes, I like him. Not to the extent you're worried about. Although, I give you full permission to kick his shebs because it would be funny."

"Dare," he decided, pleased with the answer he had gotten.

The absolutely malicious glint in her eyes, lighting them like fire, made his stomach twist disconcertingly. "I dare you to run laps around the Kote . 3 of them, in full beskar'gam ."

This was the first dare that either of them could actually participate in and if Paz opted for a drink, he'd be labeled the loser. Curling his lip, he pushed himself up to his feet, swaying slightly, before considering his ale again. He did not want to run at this moment. No, his stomach complained at the idea. Hissing a few expletives beneath his breath he began his laps, the carbonation in the ale making him burp a few times, bile rising in the back of his throat. He finished the laps, the ship wasn't too big, but it still unsettled his insides.

Offering him the prettiest and smuggest smile she could manage, she said, "Truth," again.

"Do you think Djarin likes you? In the aforementioned manner," Paz hissed, holding his rebelling stomach.

Her brows pushed together and she frowned deeply. "How the kriff would I know? He's the quietest person in my class."

"But if you had to guess?"

"Maybe? I really can't say for certain. I've never really thought about it."

"You haven't thought about it?" Paz's voice hitched.

" Lek , I'm not hormone riddled. You humans age differently than Anaxians," she snorted, picking up her ale and taking a few mild swigs.

"What do you mean?"

"Anaxians don't reach maturity until their second decade of life. If you... ahem, catch my drift," she blushed slightly at admitting such a thing to her brother.

Paz's gums flapped and he felt incredibly uncomfortable in that moment. "Didn't need to know that... Really didn't need to know that-" he muttered loud enough for her to hear. Now he couldn't get the images out of his mind, standing up abruptly, picking up his growler and stomping away. He locked himself in the captain's quarters, bringing the ale to his lips as he felt even more disgusted with himself. It had all been in good fun until he realized even he had been sizing up his sister, considering the expansion of their clan. Running his hand over his face, he flopped back onto the bed and groaned.

---

Dadrus was an unimpressive, dustball planet. One of the first she'd been to since becoming Mandalorian and not at all her type of place, which would've been green, blanketed in trees, and with mild weather. Instead, the air was arid, made her skin parched even beneath her helmet, and the suns glared at her as if she had slapped its girl's ass in the cantina and got away with it. It was a small livable area on the gas giant and an even smaller outpost village that sat nestled between the amber and gold canyons. The Guild establishment was settled in a nook in the center of the town, the only thing worth traveling to on Dadrus. Otherwise, the planet might've been empty save for a few souls who were looking not to get captured for some sort of war crime. Place like this, the Empire would never bother with.

The bell on the cantina door tinkled pitifully as the Mandalorians entered. One dark green, shadowed by an impassive and impossibly large dark blue figure. All activity guttered to a halt, heads turning anxiously to look at the pair that were marked with the same Jai'galaar eyes on their pauldrons. Didn't get visitors often, let alone two Mandalorians. Usually they traveled alone, not in pairs. None of them knew that the two were just teenagers, because it was in the way they walked; tall, erect as if they were about to snap to attention, and with feral prowess indicating their years of training. From the visors, eyes then followed to the weapons. The female had an arsenal of knives and blades, whereas the male saddled himself with a heavy blaster and a few other smaller firearms.

He nudged her, motioning toward the back of the room where Jace nearly spat out his spotchka. They were going toward him. Well, he was the official leader for the Guild on Dadrus, so he shouldn't have been too surprised that they'd be bounty hunters looking for pucks. Draining the rest of his cup in his anxiety, he motioned for the bartending droid to bring a double - stat. Interlacing his fingers on the table to keep them from shaking, he listened to the dull metallic ring of each boot's footfall before the Mandalorians were standing at the end of his table.

The female reached into a pouch, all but slamming the unactivated fobs in front of him. "We're here for work," he wasn't expecting the accent. It was crisp, clear, and definitely not from round these parts. Outer Rim folks all had a certain accent, hers was cultured and smooth like velvet, despite the shift in it from the modulator. Jace leaned forward, earning an aggressive leer from the bigger mando. Was nice to hear such a pretty accent, but he wasn't looking to get throttled by the blue guy.

Swiping the fobs, Jace flipped through them and nodded his thanks at the droid who brought over his second spotchka. "These are all claimed," he muttered. "Where did you get these?"

The female glanced over at the male, her head tilted, maybe confused?

"Do you have any other work?" the male's voice was deep like rolling thunder.

"I have a few," Jace sat back and considered them. A pair like this could really be used for anything, not just a small fry job. "Tell you what, mandos, I'm in a gracious mood today. I've got one puck if you're willing to take it, but it's on Tatooine and deals with the Hutts."

"What does it pay?" the female inquired, his heart clenching at the sound of her voice again.

"Well. As long as you bring the bounty in warm. Leaking? That'll be fine. But alive," Jace picked up his spotchka and took a deep swig, eying the green mando while he did so. He saw an obsidian braid swaying and wondered what might be underneath that helmet.

"We'll take it," she didn't deliberate with her partner, holding out a black glove expectantly.

Jace found the puck in his stash and activated it, taking the three fobs they'd had that were no longer any good. Those were pitiful bounties anyways for a set of Mandalorians. They'd be better suited for walking amongst the Hutts and not being bothered. Jabba would probably entertain them, since he liked Mandalorians. Plopping it in her hand, Jace smiled fondly, "Happy hunting."

---

"Why are all these kriffing planets hot as fuck?" Sena complained loudly to her brother as they stepped off the dock into the hangar of Mos Espa. Visor adjusting rapidly to the light to cut the difference from the darkness of the Kote , she glared at anything and everything around her. She liked warm planets, not scalding ones. Despite there being a habitable zone in Tatooine, it was hotter than the devil's armpit and wearing full armor was not comfortable. Dadrus had also been slightly unpleasant, but now she was beginning to think that it was absolute paradise when held next to Tatooine. Plus, the Guild Master had been kind of cute. Ugh, she'd literally just told her brother she wasn't interested in anyone that way and now some random human had garnered her interest?

"The Outer Rim isn't known for being the most favorable place to live," Paz reminded her, but also groused quietly at how hot it was. Tatooine left much to be desired aside from the climate, to include the absolute rabble that littered the planet. They were Mandalorian and wouldn't be bothered, but he disliked the atmosphere here, the casual slavery, and the disdain toward life as if it were something to be taken for granted. This wasn't exactly the place he'd wanted Sena to go for her first hunt, but she'd snatched the puck up before he could stop her and he wasn't going to argue with her in the cantina on Dadrus. Not in front of other people. Any gripes could be taken behind closed doors unless they were life threatening.

"Should be easy. Pick up the quarry, shove him into cryo, then double back," she reasoned, spotting the mechanic who governed the bay they had landed in. "Hey!"

The old man froze beneath the shadow of the Mandalorians, dropping the wrench in his hand and paling. Bending down, Sena picked it up and offered it back to him, the small bit of courtesy confusing him. "W-welcome to Mos Espa," he greeted, taking the wrench and rubbing the accumulated sand off on his coveralls. "What can I help you with today?"

"We're just docking for the day. How much will that cost us?" Sena asked, gesturing back to the Kote.

"If you leave before morning, won't cost you more than 200 credits. "

That seemed like a lot, but then again Sena hadn't really bought anything off planet before. Their allowance was 1,000 for fuel, food, docking and other miscellaneous necessities. If this bounty went without a hitch, then they would be getting a lot more for the scum bag in Hutt palace. Hearing the word palace again was odd, but this place was nothing like her old home.

"Here's half now," she fished the credits out and put them into the mechanic's hand before locking up the Kote with a few buttons on her vambrace. Thinking that it was hot from within the shelter of the hangar, she was immediately dismayed the moment she walked into the sandy streets and felt the sunlight billeting off her dark armor. Sweat pooled beneath her flight suit, against the back of her neck, and rolled down into unpleasant crannies. Holding the fob in her hand, she followed the quiet pinging while her head remained on a swivel.

Everything was earth toned. Despite being a miserable planet, there was actually quite a bit of activity. Folks of multiple races meandered the streets in robed attire, a wave of gritty activity as they plucked along on daily activity. Her eyes noticed the people with collars, eyes cast down, going about their business though they were considerably more demure than most other locals. Slaves. Her lips curled beneath her helmet in disdain, recalling what papa had once told her about those who used slaves rather than paying people for honest work. They were despicable. No one, not even pilfering Jawas, deserved to be treated like a disposable object.

Paz had mentioned that Tatooine was a shitty planet and with each step, she continued to wade into the trash and find things she didn't like about it. From the old durasteel domes that were stained from whipping sandstorms, marred by scars of the sunlight stripping it of its dignity. Everything here was for purpose, not appearance. With water a high commodity, people would typically resort to sonic showers to clean things, which was sort of gross in her opinion. At least, Vorp'ya had its rainy seasons and was never truly parched like Tatooine. Grass had to grow in for the nerfs to graze on, their population growing ever larger.

They cut their way through the crowd like butter, folks shuffling out of their way as if so much as touching the Mandalorians would burn them. Sena wasn't taken aback by this, people were terrified of Mandalorians and eyed the arsenal of weapons each of them were decorated with. Did it make her feel lonely? No, she had the whole Tribe back on Vorp'ya, her friends, her vod, her best friends. There was nothing to be desired and she had a job to do to prove her worth to the Tribe. She wouldn't let her aliit or the Elders down.

The Hutt palace wasn't exactly what she'd call a castle. A big, cylindrical dome with a few black rings toward the top which were windows set inward, strong enough to withstand the storms. While it was quite large, she thought it had a phallic shape to it and was unimpressive and nondescript. No, compared to Genmaris Castle it was a lewd joke, more akin to a run down outpost in the forest than a place where important people should dwell. Through her academics, Sena knew that the Hutt Clan was not a force to be reckoned with lightly. They were slavers and crime lords, with no qualms in dispatching anyone they disliked. Fortunately, they were fond of Mandalorians and their success in retrieving bounties, so Sena was hopeful that they wouldn't run into too many issues.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Inside the palace. Well, she'd been expecting it, eying the pair of Niktos by the door who gave the two of them brief glares before jerking their heads in approval and letting them through. Smoke buffeted their helmets upon entrance, the haze a swirling combination of whatever the patrons were dragging between lips and a machine near the jazz playing band. Lively music filled the air, but did not disperse the blatant profligacy that filled the cantina chamber to the brim. Slaves were everywhere, identifiable from the metal shock collars around their throats. Servers ferried drinks between tables, some playing sabacc, others engaged in deep conversations, and eyes immediately distinguishing the mandos through the murk, almost as if they weren't truly there, and their eyes were playing tricks on them.

Upon a stone plinth was the ugliest creature that Sena ever had the luxury of laying eyes on. Once that title had belonged to Rathas, but now she'd decided that Jabba the Hutt was a much more suitable champion. A big, lumpy mass of molted green, brown, and tan with piercing orange eyes, slitted pupils blown as he picked up a tiny, live, and miserable creature which squealed for dear life before disappearing into the sticky maw of the Hutt. A shiver lanced down her back, a pair of scantily clad slaves tethered to him by chains. They looked absolutely petrified, as if they might be the next thing to disappear into his gullet.

There were dancing platforms where various female slaves swayed to the music and gripping poles. Clearly, they weren't doing it for pleasure, their collars a little smaller as not to impede them from their work. Lecherous eyes trailed them, some of the customers and guests muttering about what they wanted to do to them and if maybe Jabba would let them if they paid. The absolute filth being translated through her helmet made her want to vomit.

Paz brushed her arm, reminding her to keep moving, and not get distracted. Steadying herself, she placed her palm on Cu'Sith's pommel and felt her heartbeat ease back down to normal. While she wanted to murder everyone in this room, aside from the slaves, and paint a beautifully macabre mosiac with crimson (and whatever other colors of blood there might be) - she knew they couldn't. Not only were they vastly outnumbered, but killing anyone in here without permission would mean turning the Hutt Clan against them and the Tribe. Too much of a risk to free a few slaves. They weren't there to be heroes.

Approaching Jabba, he turned his repugnant eyes toward them, his impressively wide mouth curving up in what could only be described as a slimy smile. A protocol droid stood beside him as he spoke, translating the Huttense, "Welcome Mandalorians. Jabba is most pleased to see you amongst his ranks today. He asks what he can help you with today? Are you looking for work?"

Sena drew out her tracking fob. "We have a quarry that has led us here," she informed him curtly, keeping voice under control and thankful for the modulator to cut the edge off of her bitterness in having to deal with this monster. Pressing the identification button, the silhouette of their charge sputtered in a crystalline holographic view; a Twi'lek male in his early 30s.

Jabba considered it and then wobbled the top of his slug-ness. He didn't really have a neck which could discern what was his head and what was his body, but she supposed it was as much of a nod as she would get. "Jabba says that your quarry is here in one of the back rooms. You are permitted to collect him as long as no one is disturbed."

Sena put the fob back into her pouch and gave a discreet nod, unwilling to thank the creature. Turning away, she trotted along through the back halls and toward the rows of chamber doors. This area was akin to a hotel, where bounty hunters could stay whilst in Jabba's care. Lighting was subpar, yellow like piss, and casting a sickly glow against the rusted walls. Down the hall, she stopped where the fob indicated, glancing to see if there was anyone nearby. A few scampering slaves, who ducked away and ignored them, a passing Nikto, but no one who had any interest in bothering them.

From her pocket, she removed a lock pick, giving Paz the signal to let her handle this on her own. Sena could use her stealth to her advantage, but Paz wasn't gifted in the same talents. He'd trundle right in and give her away. He would post outside whilst she took care of business inside. Didn't take long for her to find the right combination. She'd practiced on Paz's door just to annoy him by putting random bugs in his bed. He hated bugs.

Slipping in like a shadow, she pinned herself to a wall and slowly removed her kal'e from her belt. The lights were off except for one on the nightstand, allowing for her to drink in the surroundings before deciding what she would do. Her head cocked, a strange slapping and wet noise garnering her attention. Creeping forward, her feet rolled heel to toe to prevent any noise. Her light weight allowed for an even more soundless approach as she cut the corner slightly and her stomach dropped into her feet.

Caged in the corner was a young woman who was barely clinging to life as her captor gripped her by her slave collar. Head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, Sena could only watch on in horror as he pummeled into her, each wet slap punctuated by a terrible whimper from the woman’s mouth. The animalistic grunts, the absolute disregard for the slave’s deteriorating health, her skin marked by bruises and lesions, slicked with sweat and blood.

Finally finding her feet, she stepped forward, each rolling of her heel to toes silent. Not that the bastard would have even heard her, fixated in his conquering. She raised the pommel and collided with the back of his head.

The Guild Master had said leaking was fine. Her lip was peeled back in a wolfish snarl that the quarry couldn't see, groaning as blood trickled down the back of his head. A hiss escaped the door for a second time and Paz stomped in to see what the commotion was. Immediately, he went rigid, observing the barely breathing form of the slave as Sena bent over her, chewing her lip as she tried to decide what to do. Maker, she was bleeding everywhere.  

"She's not going to make it," he told her.

"Why? Why would anyone do this? What sort of sick pleasure do they get from this?" her voice was hoarse, but crackled with unbridled fury. "Can you hear me? Hello?"

The slave girl's eyes fluttered open for just the briefest of moments, unfocused, pupils blown as she let out the faintest cry of shock. Of course. Two Mandalorians were hunched over her while she was bleeding to death. Gritting her teeth, Sena placed her arms under the slave and lifted her, taking her over to the bed instead of the damp corner she'd been bludgeoned in. Setting her down, dismayed by how much the human weighed, she pulled the blankets up and tenderly wiped away the spittle and other fluids from her face. Continuing to clean up what she could, she sat in the chair beside the female and waited, observing each rattled breath until the slave opened her eyes again.

"What... are you doing?" she asked weakly.

"I'll stay here with you," Sena promised, clutching her knees to keep her hands from shaking as the scenes replayed in her head over and over again. Primal, animalistic, and disgusting.

"P-p-please. Can you finish it? It hurts... so bad... it hurts..."

" Vod , I'll do it-" Paz stepped up.

The slave whimpered at the sight of him and Sena snapped her head up. "Take him out of here. I'll help her. She's afraid of you."

Paz's shoulders sagged slightly, gripping the quarry by the cuffs and dragging his limp body out of the room. When the door snapped shut again, Sena turned back to the young woman and let out a shuddering breath. "Is there... anyone you want me to tell about you? Family? A friend?"

"I've always been a slave. N-n-no one," she answered quietly, closing her eyes against and shuddering. "Be-before you do... Can I see your face? S-so I know?" Know who saved her and put her out of her misery. That was her request.

The question shocked her, shaken to her core by the question to see her face. Aside from her aliit , no one had seen her since she left Genmaris. No living thing could see it or she'd have to kill them. Drawing her blade, she knew what she had to do. Sena was discreet, hiding it on the outside of her thigh as she reached up with a trembling hand and disengaged the seal of her helmet. Setting it down, her eyes rapidly adjusted to the dim room, glowing faintly in the reflection of the lamp.

Eyes widening, the slave sputtered slightly at what she saw, the tanned countenance of a young female. Then she softened, resigned to her death, a faint smile creasing her frothing lips. A secret she would take with her to the grave and the only luxury and honor she'd been spared in her entire life. "Th-thank yo-you," the slave muttered as Sena bent down, almost in the way a mother would crane to her child to kiss their brow before bed time.

Smoothing the mess of hair from the female's face, Sena's eyes burned as she maneuvered the blade carefully, out of sight and mind. "Go to a better place. You will be safe there and no one will harm you, mesh'la ," she promised, sliding the blade up into the girl's ribcage. Her lids snapped back, before a long winded sigh parted her mouth and she eased down into an eternal slumber. Dragging the pads of her fingers down, Sena closed the slave's eyes and withdrew her tanto, wiping the blood off on her pants. Taking her helmet, she placed it back on and cleared her throat, finding it constricting on her as she stared at the girl - who might've been sleeping peacefully if not for the dark scarlet stain in the fabric where her heart had been pierced.

I will remember you, Sena promised, spinning on her heel and storming out of the room to find Paz waiting. The quarry was coming to, eyes still rolling into the back of his head. She'd probably given him a concussion.

" Vod ?" Paz was even toned, entreating her to see how she was faring.

"Let's return to the ship."

The silence between them was thick enough to cut and Paz was worried. While talking outside the privacy of the Kote or their covert was not necessary, he saw the stiffness in her shoulders and the fists she balled her gloves into. He'd only caught what had happened at the end, but had been able to see quite clearly that she had found the quarry torturing the slave. Kriffing Tatooine. Absolute hellhole of a place. This was why he had been worried about coming here. It was no place for a 16 year old and now she'd seen too much.

Sena paid the mechanic in the hangar, following Paz closely as he dragged the charge who was starting to become more lucid. He was about to thrust the bastard into cryo when his sister caught his arm. "No. I'm not done with him," she informed him, preventing him from sealing the Twi'lek in carbonite. Any normal person might've been sickened by the suggestion, the idea that she was going to torture him as he'd tortured the slave. But Mandalorians often abided by the rules of an eye for an eye. The quarry needed to be alive, but they'd never said he couldn't be scarred.

He left her, heading up to the cockpit just as she secured the trembling Twi'lek to a chair and pulled out one of her knives. Just as he closed the door to the cockpit, he heard the first guttural scream, silenced quickly by some article being stuffed into his mouth. The creature deserved it. He deserved every lasting mark that Sena would place on him. Being a master of blades had always encroached on this territory - Paz just wondered how long it would be before she actually wielded them in this manner. He'd been hoping she would be older, but he couldn't change fate. No, he just worried about what his vod'ika had seen.

Translations

Shabuir - motherfucker Buir - parent Vod - comrade/brother/sister Lek - Yeah Ne'johaa! - shut up! Shebs - ass Murcyur - kiss Ori'vod - big sibling Su'cuy - Hi Kal - blade Kal'e - blades (i made the plural up) Nayc - No Jate - Good Ad'ika - daughter/son (affectionate) Aliit - Clan Cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart Vaar'tur! - Morning! Ad - son/daughter Kyramud - assassin Vaar'ika - pipsqueak Koor - Deal Hut'uun - coward (a very heavy weighted insult in Mandalorian) Ori'jagyc - bully; one who picks on someone smaller than themselves Kandosii! - Well done Vu'traat - special forces Riduurok - marriage vows Oya - Stay alive ! Cheers ! Ni dinu - Take it or leave it

---

End Author Note: Dear Readers, absolutely all my resolve has vanished and I am now hopelessly writing a romance fic. Heck. 

My original intention was to really drag out growing up, but I like the vein I've traveled down more. The biggest point to take away from this is that Din is very inexperienced (and he's reserved) whereas Sena is very outgoing and popular (with the addition that she's not in an Anaxian's adolescent form yet, so relationships of a sexual nature are still weird to her). 

We've got that awkward in between phase in tandem with Sena's distaste for what happened on Tatooine. Our poor little bird isn't gonna be ready for an intimate relationship for a while and Din is hopeless anyways since he doesn't talk.Anyways, I'm really excited to publish the next chapter in a week. There will be a lot of timeskips before getting to present time of Season 1.

Additionally, Paz will eventually also have a love interest in a few chapters. I couldn't forget him completely when Din and Sena's ship sails. 

Tags will change once those chapters are published.Publishing day will be Sunday - no specific timeframe.

[theamberfang]

Contact; Journal 485

Today ended up being a chill one, mostly spent watching Sajam stream Them’s Fightin’ Herds, watching TFH tournament VODs, and watching a bit more competitive Team Fortress 2. I also spent some time pacing around thinking about Homestuck again—maybe it’s about time I try to nudge myself into Rambling about it. I didn’t end up doing anything with Night in the Woods, but that’s okay.

Something more unusual about today was getting a private message from someone who follows me; I’m not going to @ them because that would defeat the purpose of a private message. Regardless, it was mostly thanks towards my journal. And I responded with thanks in return, because it’s nice to know that I helped another person.

This does have me thinking about the possibility of opening an ask box. It’s an intimidating prospect considering the toxic nonsense that other bloggers seem to have to put up with. I’ve generally kept my distance from engaging directly with discourse, but I still get political occasionally. I’m also just who I am, and, from what I understand, that can be enough for someone to get angry about through the internet.

With all those downsides, I guess I should try to consider what opening an ask box would even accomplish for me. Evidently, people can just PM me anyway. I’ve received a few comments on posts before, so that’s another option people have. The main thing asks do is give people the opportunity to have their questioned platformed with an answer, which could encourage audience engagement. The question then is: do I care about that?

Since I described it as encouraging “audience engagement”, that already puts a very market-oriented spin on the whole thing, so I’m inclined to not want to bother with opening an ask box. I’m not especially interested in building an audience; I’m not looking to entertain people; I’m not building a brand. I’m here to write about me, and if anyone else gets something out of that, then that’s just a bonus.

The only thing that slightly pushes me towards the idea of opening asks is that I’m not actually sure how reliable the private message system is on Tumblr. I’m pretty sure I haven’t had the option to send people PMs when I was on their blogs before; maybe it’s just something that can be turned on/off, just the same as the asks. Regardless, asks just seem to be the preferred way to talk to one another on Tumblr. Well...maybe. I can’t exactly be sure how much the private messaging feature is actually used because of the whole being private thing... So it just comes back to asks being visible and platformed.

It might be something I experiment with on my secondary Rambly blog, but thinking about it so much so far has started to get my anxiety going. Even entertaining the idea may have pulled some layers of separation away, making me uncomfortably conscious of the fact that people (however few) read these things. So I guess the best course of action is to stop thinking about it. I’ll just commit to not being interested in the idea.

Tomorrow

Anyway, I’ll be heading out tomorrow to get those lab tests done and to see about picking up my meds from the pharmacy. I actually asked Mom about that latter bit, and I guess I just tell the pharmacist that I should have had a prescription sent in, then I just need to show my ID and pay for the meds.

Something else to remember is that I still need to schedule that follow-up appointment. The nurse practitioner (I honestly just want to say doctor, but I’m not sure how appropriate that is) suggested making one in two weeks. I had thought she had just set it up herself, but looking at the patient portal, it does just show up as a recommendation. (I actually checked it yesterday, but decided to wait until I actually had the lab test done: just to be sure the thing that we’d be following up on was squared away.)

[jacensolodjo]

“You need to stick around a little longer.” Perhaps for a Hyran and Sheres being bros.

[I will be honest it could have been far more angsty and I expected it to be until I got to writing. Thank you for the prompt!]

Most would probably expect the ‘buddy system’ to be even more important as everyone could feel the war was wrapping up. Unfortunately, it had a tendency of scattering everyone instead. Sheres knew it had been far too long, to forgive the use of a platitude. Especially when the helmets came off and the pair were able to compare and contrast all the lines and dirt and facial hair that had accumulated. The latter was especially easy to notice since Hyran didn’t have the same proclivity for shaving and hair growth freezing that Sheres did. Neither bothered to point out the rather drawn look both sported. 

Jango had, on more than one occasion, made it clear that staying in touch through comms was better than nothing. But Sheres had to admit sometimes that just made things worse. Being able to talk to someone so far away should have been a boon. 

“I think someone owes someone else a drink,” Hyran said after a couple attempts at wiping away excess grime from his helmet almost done nonchalantly. 

Sheres tapped a palm against the upper part of Hyran’s cuirass with a snort before spinning him around and nudging him forward.

“You say that every time we reunite,” Sheres said, dryly. Add to that, Hyran was the only one who drank. Sheres really only kept the other company, given his near hatred of alcohol.

“And yet, never ceases to be true, ner vod!” Sheres was struck by how sometimes it seemed Hyran had somehow inherited bits of Cyclo’s personality, though he was sure Hyran probably thought the same of Sheres. He stopped the train of thought before it got to the part about what parts of their personality were influenced by Jango instead.

With a barking laugh, Hyran patted Sheres on the back before they set off in perfect walking sync to the barracks.

It was there they both peeled off the armor that had gained more scrapes and dents than either would like. Oh, they could have grabbed new pieces if they wanted. Alpha ARCs did get some perks when it came to equipment. But both sets of armor bore scars from the battle they had lost the other half of their squad in. And that was enough reason to not exchange the pieces for unblemished ones. Jango had said the armor didn’t make the Mandalorian, at least not in the way many thought. They all had the same kind of design that was uniquely Mandalorian. But it wasn’t the dings and scrapes that proved they were Mandalorian. They didn’t need to wear their Mandalorian resume on their beskar'gam. And yet… they did. They needed to remember even if it led to aay'han.

Fatigues of pure black with red piping were thrown on in the armor’s stead. Normally the fatigues would have been pure black outside of their collar and hem. But Alphas, they got an extra bit of piping to show they were Alphas.

For once, Sheres decided against shaving. At least for the time being. Especially because he knew Hyran was getting antsy. Hyran was a bit more hyperactive than his brother and everyone knew it. Knew why Sheres was the scout sniper. With all the patience he could muster, Sheres allowed Hyran to lead the way to one of the bars nearby that “tolerated” the presence of clones and didn’t “suggest” they go to a clone bar.

As promised, Sheres ordered the first drink. He then allowed himself to watch the people around them. Always had to watch. Always had to keep a wall at his back so no one could sneak up. He enjoyed his juice, despite the fact he knew it was watered down almost as much as the alcohol.

He caught sight of a couple other clones and instantly clocked them at being barely graduated. No scars, no bruises, and still swaggering with confidence they had not yet truly earned like the twin Alpha ARCs. Most of all: They didn’t have that bulkhead stare. The same look so many people denied clones could have. After all, they had trained for war since birth why would they react to it in a negative way? To say nothing of the shellshock symptoms so many gained.

Sheres looked back at Hyran as his brother ordered his third glass of Alderaanian ale. It wasn’t cheap, but neither were the clones.

Sheres got through another two glasses of juice before he heard the newbies on in the other corner starting to talk about when they would be getting their assignment. They were annoyed they weren’t shipping out already. And they were getting progressively more drunk and thus less able to be of use to anyone anyways.

“Ignore ‘em, ner vod,” Hyran said with just a hint of slur. Sheres squared his shoulders a little and flinched when he heard one of the newbie’s glasses thunk on the table and make a slight screech as it slid along.

“Just hurry up and finish getting scuppered.”

“They’re just haryc b'aalyc.”

“Which you should be too by now and would be if you hadn’t chosen this specific hole.”

Hyran shrugged. Sheres was normally not this cranky. He just needed some sleep, he told himself.

To his relief, the shinies calmed down after a while which let Hyran finish getting his fill so Sheres could then escort his brother back to the barracks.

With a low sigh, Sheres helped his brother get his boots off. When he did, he made to leave the room but Hyran grabbed his attention at the last second.

“Don’t run off again. We have a furlough for a reason. We gotta burn it. Make sure your brother doesn’t end up passing out face down on his pillow, 'lek?”

Sheres knew Hyran really meant they needed to spend all the time they could together. They knew far too well it was easy to lose a brother. Though there were others that Sheres wanted to check up on, he couldn’t deny his drunk brother.

“Alright but if you throw up on my only remaining pair of fatigues I’m tossing you into the Under City.”

Hyran laughed hard enough he started coughing and gagged once which made Sheres freeze in place before rushing over as the medic part of him sprang to life.

“I’m fine, Sher'ika! I’m fine!” Hyran said quickly before coughing again a few more times.

“And don’t do that again, either!” Sheres said with a scowl, trying to pretend he hadn’t been terrified that his brother would choke to death right then and there and so close to the end of the war.

“You can’t give me orders, we’re the same rank,” Hyran teased. Sheres rolled his eyes before joining Hyran on the bed. He grabbed the datapad filled with various novels and short stories from the bedside table that separated his bunk from Hyran’s.

“What’re you gonna do, read me a bedtime story?”

“If you don’t start sleeping off the alcohol, I might!”

“It better be the Littlest Mythosaur, then.”

For a moment Sheres thought about when Jango had introduced the young Alphas to that story. They had been so young then and yet Sheres remembered every detail, every look, every inflection on certain syllables. They both did. The curse of the eidetic memories the first 2 generations of clones were 'gifted’ with and which became rarer with each batch further down the line.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Sheres said before playfully shoving Hyran’s head down back against the pillow and pretending to tuck him into the bed. Hyran laughed but luckily was not hard enough to go into another coughing fit.

After a few minutes of silence, Sheres looked at his brother to see if he was truly asleep. Believing him to finally be out like a disengaged lightsaber, Sheres got up to go over to his own bunk.

“Sher'ika? Stay? Tell me about that story Jang'buir told us, about Mandalore the Binder?” They both knew they both had the story memorized front to back and vice versa but it didn’t matter. For a moment Sheres mused on the rather childish way of asking.

“If you will sleep off the alcohol entirely afterwards then fine.”

“Of course. I always do, don’t I?”

Sheres chose not to reply to that, instead deciding on telling the story his brother wanted. After all, they had a furlough to burn and who knew what tomorrow would bring especially a man whose name literally meant “to live for today”.

@clingy-ghost

[deepseacritter]

Going to the Dogs

Characters: CC-3636 | Wolffe; CT-7567 | Rex; CC-2224 | Cody; Hardcase

Additional Tags: Cody is a delightful ass, Rex can’t stop his brother from doing something dumb, Cody is always picking on the Wolfpack, he gets Hardcase to help

—————

Rex walked up to the caf machine for a refill. It was the second, no, third trip that morning. One more cup and he’d be ready to face the day.

As Rex turned to head back to his table, an unusual sight in a far corner of the room caught his attention. Cody was eating breakfast and animatedly talking with...Hardcase? Yes, that was Hardcase alright. Rex eyed them carefully. They both looked entirely too awake, and too conspiratorial for his liking.

With a grunt and a chug of caf, Rex walked back to his table. He was not awake enough to deal with whatever was going on there. Making a mental note to question the 212th commander later, he continued to keep watch of the odd pair as he sat down. Whatever Cody was planning was likely not great. Who or what the target was, he was determined to find out.

———

The 212th surplus was quiet as Cody sat cleaning his armor. He was distracted, scrubbing away dirt and blaster burns, and didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him.

“Cody, care to tell me about your meeting this morning? Why were you talking with one of my men?”

The commander looked up at Rex, surprised but careful to keep a neutral expression.

“Rex. Didn’t know you had access to this area.”

Cody thought about making some other smart comment, but the look on the 501st captain’s face suggested that would not be appreciated.

“I can’t tell you exactly what we were talking about. Sorry vod. You’ll find out later, I promise. Don’t worry, it’s nothing that will get your man in any trouble. He’s merely picking up some supplies for me.”

“What kind of supplies? Why Hardcase?”

Cody finished cleaning and stood to put his chest plate on, purposefully not looking at Rex. “Supplies we don’t have on base. And your trooper...volunteered his services. He’s not responsible for anything that will happen.”

Rex let out an exasperated breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as a headache began to form. Hardcase was trouble on a good day, and he certainly didn’t volunteer for anything unless there were explosives involved, or he had a chance to mess with a rival unit. Cody, well he definitely wouldn’t joke around with explosives, so that meant...

“Osik...the Wolfpack...you can’t be serious. Codes, after the stunt you pulled with the howling comm system? Do you have a death wish?”

Cody laughed and shook his head. He patted Rex and the shoulder, and then in a typical move, lightheartedly slapped Rex’s cheek. “You need to relax, ner vod.”

Things were suspiciously calm the rest of the day. Hardcase had returned to base by the time Rex had finished talking to Cody. Similar to the commander, Hardcase wasn’t talking about their plans.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Cody’s orders. Chain of command and all...”

“Hardcase, I’m your superior in the 501st, not Cody. And since when are you concerned with chain of command?”

Hardcase flashed a mischievous smile and shrugged. “Rex, the less you know, the better. Just think of this as a bonding experience between the 501st and the 212th. Brothers united.”

Under other conditions, Rex would have welcomed the camaraderie. “United, right. Just make sure this doesn’t come back to me. I want no part of whatever it is you’ve got planned.”

Hardcase gave Rex a mocking salute. “Of course, sir. You can trust me.”

He absolutely did not trust Hardcase right now, but trying to get any more information from the trooper would be pointless. He was as stubborn as Cody. Rex just had to see what was in store for Wolffe and the 104th.

———

The service call for dinner sounded and Rex made his way to the mess. There was a larger than usual crowd at the door, the hallway filled with a buzz of conversation. Closer to the doors, he could hear loud laughter from inside the room. Rex closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, sure that whatever was inside the mess was something special for the Wolfpack. Rex walked in prepared for anything, but he was still surprised by the sight that greeted him.

In the middle of the room, where the 104th usually sat, all the tables had been removed and replaced with...dog beds? Fluffy, pink dog beds of various sizes spread out on the floor. Among them were bowls full of water and kibble. Chew toys and bones were scattered in the mix as well, making the mess look like a kennel that was expecting a large influx of stray animals...

The captain took a good moment to survey the scene. On either side of the make-shift kennel, clones from the 501st and 212th sat at their tables in anticipation, as Wolffe and his men hadn’t arrived yet. Rex noticed Cody had positioned himself by the doors...probably the only smart thing he did all day. The commander would need a fast exit if he wanted to live to see tomorrow.

Cody certainly knew how far to push things without truly violating any regulations. Or, to be more accurate, he had a knack for exploiting things that had no current regulations at all. As far as Rex could recall, there were no standards for how the mess needed to be set up, and no regulations as to what items or furniture were prohibited. That was likely change after today, but for now Cody could not technically be punished for any of it.

There also weren’t any regs against wounding the pride of a fellow commander, but that wouldn’t matter to Wolffe. Cody was always trying to find ways to make things difficult for the other commander. Rex had to confess it was mildly entertaining to see those two battle back and forth, but he couldn’t remember when, or why, it had all started.

Rex made his way to the Torrent Company table, shaking his head and trying to recall the history between his fellow commanders. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Hardcase’s voice.

“...had to choose between pink and brown. I went with the pink ones, they stood out more. Pink and fluffy. That’s going to make the Wolfpack insane...hopefully.”

“Where’d you get them from though? And how did you get everything on base with no one noticing?”

“Jesse, you know me. I have ways of getting things done around here. I know people.”

Rex cleared his throat and sat down across from Hardcase. “If you’re lucky, Wolffe won’t come after you next. I won’t stop him if he finds out you had a hand in this.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Captain. I just want to see their faces...pink fluffy dog beds...bones...kriffing kibble!” Hardcase spit the last words out as he burst into a fit of laughter. Everyone was having a laugh at the expense of the 104th this evening.

———

Rex was halfway through his meal when the noise in the room suddenly dampened. One of the 212th troopers had signaled to Cody that Wolffe was finally approaching. Putting his meal aside, Rex watched with dreaded anticipation as the doors opened, and the 104th filed in. The room went completely silent as the newcomers stopped dead in their tracks in the middle of the room. Rex could see Wolffe push his way to the front to check what the holdup was about.

Wolffe’s face contorted into a murderous scowl as he stared at the scene before him.

“What in kriffing hells is this? Where are our tables? Is that dog food...” Wolffe growled with increasing agitation as he surveyed the mess, trying to register exactly what he was seeing.

From behind the group, Cody stepped forward, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“Your dinner is served! Only premium kibble for the Wolfpack, of course. Grain free, and real meat is the first ingredient. Not sure what the meat is, or what the other ingredients are...but you’re worth it Wolfie, for being such a good boy.”

Cody patted Wolffe on the head and ruffled his hair. He was either being quite brave, or incredibly stupid...Rex’s vote when to the latter. No sane man would dare be this close to Wolffe right now.

“Thought you’d appreciate more appropriate lounge space, something more comfortable than those tables. The Wolfpack can really stretch out on those fluffy beds...just curled up all together and cute. Pink is your color, isn’t it? Of course it is.”

Rex could see Wolffe desperately trying to keep his anger in check, but Cody was being such an ass right now.

“I got you chew toys too, so you can’t say I’m never nice to you. Just try not to spread too many fleas, I didn’t buy enough flea collars for all of you.”

Wolffe rounded on Cody. “Shabuir! You’re a dead man Cody.”

Cody laughed as he hit a button on his comlink. Howling erupted over the mess speakers. He winked at Wolffe, which finally sent the 104th commander into a rage, then quickly escaped through the mess hall doors. Wolffe followed, bellowing every curse he knew, and some that Rex believed he made up on the spot just then.

Rex hoped the Jedi would intervene before Wolffe caught up to Cody. If not...well, then they might be short a commander in the very near future.

———————————————

So, thanks for reading my first fanfic piece ever. Hope it was at least a bit entertaining.

[charity-angel]

On Buns and Ovens (16/?)

[Part 1]   [Part 15]

[Read on AO3]

The med droid had provided Clovis with a comm unit, Ahsoka revealed over drinks, which had put him into direct contact with Dooku. The files that solidified the evidence against the heads of the Banking Clan had come directly from him.

Clovis submitted them to the Senate, and promptly got himself the sanctions he needed in order to become the new head of the Banking Clan.

“Which means I get a temporary change in employment,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve got a skillset that lends itself to being a freelance bodyguard, and Clovis has had bounty hunters after him for days now. We all know it was because they wanted to get him here with his evidence, but they don’t know that. Now he’s the head of the Banking Clan, he can play the ‘important person’ card and claim a bodyguard that he trusts. And I’ve technically got no ties to the GAR, the Jedi, or the Senate.”

“Except that you keep hanging around with vod’e, jetiise, and senators,” Jesse pointed out, snickering.

“Except all that, yeah. I’m off to Scipio tomorrow, with the 104th lurking nearby as backup.” She knocked back a mouthful of her drink before adding: “I’m pretty sure that Palpatine would notice Anakin’s absence at the moment, otherwise I’d love to have you along instead. The creepy little fuck couldn’t resist turning the screws a little tighter as soon as the session was over, asking him to keep watch on Clovis because neither of them trust him. At least Skyguy knows about all the messing now.”

She didn’t sound altogether confident on that count, and Kix had to agree with her. After all, Skywalker had said it himself: knowing that there were things wrong in his head and being able to do something about it were two completely different things. The second took a lot of hard work, and generally required outside assistance.

Not something Skywalker would be lacking, but he had to accept it first…

“We know too,” Rex assured her. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“And,” Jesse added darkly, “if things go wrong, we’ve got experience of mutinying against crazy Jedi.”

Kix smacked him around the back of the head. Rex looked relieved, probably because his gut response was more likely to be along the lines of punching Jesse in the face.

Umbara wasn’t not talked about, because that way lay madness. But they had lost far too much for anyone to joke about it. Even Jesse.

Not when Rex or their jetiise were around anyway: they all blamed themselves. Skywalker and Ahsoka blamed themselves because they weren’t there and they had trusted Krell to look after their men; Kenobi because he felt he should have noticed that something was wrong with the 501st (despite being busy trying to direct his own forces in a communications blackout); Rex blamed himself most of all because he knew something was wrong but didn’t see the full picture until it was too late. And because Dogma had taken the shot.

Ahsoka surprised them all by chuckling, although it was very much gallows humour. “I guess you do. Be nicer with him, though? He’s still my ori’vod, and he’s not being a di’kut on purpose.”

  .oOo.

  As it turned out, Ahsoka was wrong on one count. While they clearly couldn’t overtly take a whole battalion to Scipio, Senator Amidala was permitted an escort. And, while Palpatine insisted that she take at least one member of the Senate Guard with her, she was allowed three members from the 501st – clones she was familiar with – to accompany her.

Skywalker immediately assigned Rex, Jesse, and Kix. And, somehow…

“CT-7560 reporting for duty, ma’am.”

Amidala’s eyes flickered from the newcomer and his perfect salute to Rex. Some time ago, she had asked about fraternal relationships between clones, and they had explained the concept of birth-squads to her. And it looked like she had not only remembered that, but Rex’s ID number too, because she had clearly noticed the similarity and realised that this trooper would be known to Rex.

Kix knew there was a reason they all liked her so much.

“What’s your name, trooper?” she asked kindly. “And please feel free to remove your bucket.”

He was grinning as the helmet came off. “Thank you, ma’am. My name is Lingo and, if I may, it’s nice to see you looking well again. I was worried for a while.”

She gasped. “You’re the one! Kix mentioned that you contacted him.” She shook her head. “You’re the one to blame for the fact I’ve had him hovering over me for weeks.”

Lingo looked completely unrepentant. “I’d much rather have you in good health, ma’am, and there are much worse prices to pay for that than Kix’s bedside manner.”

Kix made a mental note that next time he ever had the opportunity to be responsible for Lingo’s care, he would really experience what Kix could offer in terms of bedside manners.

Amidala merely raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Kix, it appears your vod’e do not bring out the best in you. Perhaps you need some better patients?”

He kind of wanted to kiss her for that, not only because she was defending him, but because it completely broke any ice with Lingo and brought him firmly into the fold of their little expedition.

“Perhaps I do,” he settled on instead, keeping his expression neutral, thoughtful. “Oh, to have patients who follow my advice instead of avoiding me, or trying to sneak out before they’re fit, or interpreting ‘light duties’ and ‘light exercise’ creatively.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Oh, to have a medic who looks after himself as well as his patients and doesn’t need sitting on so that he rests. Come on, let’s get going.”

Lingo was left blinking at that as he stowed his kit and they all took their seats for take-off. “I can’t decide,” he said softly to Rex, “whether the innuendo was intentional or not.”

Rex shook his head. “Normally with Jesse it would be, but on this occasion, no.”

Jesse, because of course he overheard, turned and grinned from the pilot’s seat. “Don’t be so sure, Rex – sometime the whim takes us that way.”

Kix groaned. “I’m so sorry, Senator. I swear he’s not all this crass all the time – he does know how to behave.”

She smiled. “I would honestly be more concerned if Jesse was. At least by being himself, I know that Lingo is aliit to you and will probably be a good fit for this mission.”

Lingo inclined his head by way of acknowledgement. “Thank you, ma’am. And it’s nice to be with vod’e who are a little less tightly wound than the Senate Guard for a change. I swear, being on Coruscant permanently does funny things to some brothers.”

Amidala, Force bless her, didn’t react in any way other than a slight frown. “Really?”

Lingo’s mouth did a funny little twitch as he nodded. “The best thing I can come up with is that it’s because we were raised for combat and we don’t really see any of that here. But…” He hesitated, looked at his hands as if they could give him the answers (once upon a time they would have held a datapad that probably could have, if not to this particular question). “I don’t know, ma’am. That’s how I rationalise it to myself, but something tells me that’s not right.”

“That’s troubling – I certainly wouldn’t want to think that by ensuring our safety, your brothers are being caused mental anguish. Can you tell me more?”

  .oOo.

  As Republic soldiers, none of them were allowed into the banking facility, but they were met on the landing pad by Clovis and Ahsoka, so at least there was one reliable set of eyes on their senator. Rex occupied them by making sure the arsenal they had packed into the shuttle was accessible and functional, and had them all on the alert for anything that might be even a whiff of Seppie activity.

The arrival of Senator Lawise caused a little consternation, but Senator Amidala had warned them to expect him. Just as she was representing the interests and approval of the Republic senate, Lawise would be there for the Confederacy.

The broadcast that interest on the Republic’s loans would be increased was unexpected, but not necessarily surprising – Rex quickly reasoned that this would be Clovis playing along with Dooku, each trying to reel in his catch. Kix felt that was a horribly public thing to announce for something that should have been a clandestine operation.

It was Lingo who spotted it on the sensors first:

“Here come our uninvited guests.”

Jesse barely had time to key the coded comm broadcasts to Amidala, Tano, and the 104th before the droids were on them, coming in hot. Rex grabbed Lingo and pulled him into cover behind Lawise’s ship while Kix went the opposite direction, behind a set of cargo containers. He prayed they didn’t contain fuel, otherwise he could be toast. Literally.

Jesse, on the other hand, got the ship into the air to meet them head on.

The landing pad was becoming littered with droid parts as the three of them took out the first few waves with a combination of sheer firepower and droid poppers. It left Kix glad they had planned for this, because anyone else probably would have been caught unawares.

“Hey, Lingo,” Jesse said cheerfully as he chased down an airborne vulture droid, “you still missing active combat?”

“I didn’t miss it!” Lingo protested, without losing his sight on the droid he promptly took out. “I was never cut out for all this crap!” He rolled a droid popper and disabled six more. “This is for insane people like you!”

“Looks to me like you’re doing just fine, vod,” Rex said, chuckling as he made headshot after headshot at a rate that their progenitor would have been proud of. “We’ll make an ARC of you yet.”

“But I like my job,” Lingo wailed as he continued shooting droids at a respectable rate. “I get to learn things, and I’m not completely insane.”

“Wish we’d introduced you to Echo,” Jesse commented, casually shooting down a bomber. “How many languages did he speak again?”

“Nine, I think,” Kix said. “And he was working on another two or three.”

The platform shook as something in flames collided with it, close by, and Rex cursed fluently for a few seconds.

“Lingo?” There was no point in asking Rex himself – he wouldn’t tell the truth.

“Right shoulder,” Lingo reported crisply. “Maybe a dislocation? He’s up and shooting tinnies with extreme prejudice, so he’ll probably be fine.”

Kix flicked a popper at a pair of Rollies before responding to that. “Remind me to tell you about the day he tried that with a sucking chest wound.”

“Which completely proves my point about ARCs being insane.”

“Yeah, but they make life more interesting,” a new voice cut in. Kix’s HUD identified it as CT-63-8521 of the 104th. “Speaking of interesting, care to share your fight?”

“Eris, I will blow you if you get some of these droids off my shebs,” Jesse promised unreservedly.

“Is that an open invitation to any pilot offering assistance?”

Kix was lucky he had battle instinct working in his favour, because otherwise that voice could have frozen him long enough for a droid to get an easy shot at him.

“Sir, as long as Kix agrees with me playing away from home, I am willing to try absolutely anything. I’ve heard dorin gas is pretty fun to play in.”

“TIME AND A PLACE, JESSE!” Rex roared, making Kix’s comm squeal in protest before dimming its audio output.

“Come on Rex, the general offered.”

“I know I said I’d let you try things out,” Kix said, “but I have to draw the line at autoerotic asphyxiation. But I wouldn’t say no to some assistance: these droids are relentless.”

A wing of grey-accented fighters, led by a blue-and-white striped Aethersprite, flew over his head shooting down enemy craft left, right and centre. Somewhat tragically, it was the Aethersprite that took on the two that were tailing Jesse’s craft.

  .oOo.

  Things settled pretty soon after that. The 104th didn’t put any men on the ground until the Scipian authorities gave them permission, but once that was granted they swept the surrounding areas for any surviving droids.

Kix confirmed Lingo’s initial diagnosis of a dislocated right shoulder for Rex, along with some significant bruising and reddening of the skin where his armour hadn’t quite stood up to the massive impact or the heat of the flames. He popped the shoulder back in slathered bacta over the minor burns, and tied it into a sling. (Rex glared, exasperated. Kix glared back. Kix won.) The armour wasn’t going back on, though – Rex needed a lot of new panels, and his bucket was significantly worse for wear.

Wolffe joined them and General Koon, and they were finally permitted to enter the bank. Apparently the Muuns wanted to take statements.

There wasn’t an awful lot to say: they had picked up the approach of the Seppies on their scanners only a scant few seconds before they had arrived, reported it to Senator Amidala, and the four of them had done their best to hold off the invading fleet.

Wolffe reported that Count Dooku’s flagship had turned tail once the battle was going badly. He sincerely looked like he had wanted to pursue and rip it to shreds.

The Muuns thanked them for their timely assistance, and for respecting their neutrality by not landing Republic forces without their consent.

Senator Lawise then informed them that the invasion had not been sanctioned by the Confederacy senate, and that Dooku was acting on no-one’s authority but his own. The Separatist Alliance respected the neutrality of the banks, and hoped that this incident by a rogue would not be held against them as a whole.

“As a gesture of our good faith,” he continued, his yellow eyes flickering around the assembled audience, “we will honour the promise Dooku made, and begin to repay the interest on our loans. It does not seem fair that we are being held to different terms than the Republic.”

Clovis inclined his head. “Thank you, Senator Lawise. I know you are a man of your word, and I would be very glad to return both loans to their original, fair terms.

“Senator Amidala, does that meet with your approval?”

She smiled graciously. “It does. Thank you, Director Clovis.”

  .oOo.

  Ahsoka was in the middle of explaining how Lawise had known about Dooku’s discussion with Clovis, and that Clovis had been open with the Muuns about the fact they were trying to flush out a conspiracy, when the news flashed through, announced by Chancellor Palpatine himself:

“The traitor ARC-5555, has been killed on Talchios IV.”

[fel-fisk]

aww sad i forgot cr wasnt on today :cc

[vanillacoolatta]

also hoping to publish most of my existing vods tomorrow! i have to go through and edit thumbnails and render everything so it might be late in the day but. yeah kjohivyfct

remember to like the videos if you watch them because it helps me show up in the algorithm/in searches/on people's suggested videos!! my among us video has a few views that say they're from someone's suggested content and it is the only video with a like on it so :eyes: it works

sorry for the shameless self promo johgfyudt one last thing being would yall appreciate a stream-updates-only blog? i would do stream announcements, post plans for future streams, polls for games, etc etc. atm i just put all that on my main and i'm good w/ continuing to do that if no one is interested in a sideblog ojhigfy