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internetdaddy98 · 2 months ago

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The Ties That Bind Us - Chapter 16

Previous | Next [Series Masterlist] Content Warning: medical procedures; mutual pining; jealousy:

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Michael Robinavitch had never been the jealous type. Not in med school, not in residency, not even when his younger brother got married before him and his grandmother sent him a half-pitying, half-expectant look from across the dinner table.

Jealousy required you to want something enough to fear losing it.

And he didn’t… he didn’t want Y/N Williams.

Not like that.

Except when he walked into Trauma Room 3 and saw her laughing—actually laughing—at something Whittaker said, something inside his chest bristled.

“Dr. Whittaker,” You said, pointing at the chart, “go ahead and present.”

The kid—Dean, Dennis, something too fresh-faced—grinned, like he was auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. He rattled off the patient’s history, vitals, and differentials with the confident rhythm of someone who’d practiced in front of a mirror. Twice.

And you were encouraging him. Nodding, your lips curled into a smile he hadn’t seen since the Pittfest shift. Her posture relaxed, her eyes warm.

Robby folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He was wearing his usual hoodie, sleeves pushed to his elbows, arms crossed in a way that someone once told him made him look unapproachable. Good.

“Dr. Whittaker,” he cut in, keeping his voice calm but just sharp enough to draw attention. “If you’re considering intra-abdominal sepsis, what imaging are you ordering?”

The kid blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, CT with contrast?”

Robby raised a brow.

“Uh—after ultrasound, of course,” Whittaker added, cheeks flushing.

You turned to Robby, that glint in your eye. “He’s not wrong. He just skipped the warm-up.”

“I like people who skip the warm-up,” Whittaker muttered, and you laughed again.

Robby stared at the monitors. It didn’t mean anything.

It shouldn’t mean anything.

But the laugh stuck with him longer than it should’ve.

Later, they were charting side by side at the nurse’s station. You sat cross-legged in your chair, typing one-handed, your tea cup balanced on the armrest. Robby kept glancing at your screen—an old habit from residency, born from too many sign-outs where one wrong medication order unraveled hours of work.

You were fast. Organized. Your notes were clear and blunt, like you were talking through the screen.

“Who told Whittaker he was allowed to flirt with his supervisors?” he muttered, not really meaning to say it out loud.

You paused mid-type and blinked at him. “Wait, what?”

“Never mind.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a second too long. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

You squinted. “That’s your ‘I’m not fine but I don’t want to talk about it’ voice.”

He looked up, his eyes holding yours. “And that’s your ‘I’m pretending not to know how charming you are’ voice.”

That shut her up. For exactly 2.3 seconds.

Then you laughed under your breath and returned to typing. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re oblivious.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

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It was late afternoon when things went sideways. A multi-vehicle accident was inbound. Three patients—one critical, two stable-ish—and just enough beds to make it work.

You sprang into action, already pulling gloves on as they wheeled the first patient in. Whittaker was right behind you with the other intern Santos, trying to keep up.

“She’s hypotensive,” You said, eyes flicking from the vitals to the ultrasound. “Positive FAST, left upper quadrant.”

Robby slid in beside her, noting the color of the woman’s skin paling, the sluggish response to IV fluids. “Call the OR. We’re not waiting.”

Whittaker fumbled with the phone, and you took it from him gently, already speaking to the surgical team upstairs with crisp, practiced ease.

“She’s going to need a second large bore,” you told him, already prepping.

“I’ll—uh—do it,” Whittaker offered, glancing at you.

“No time,” Robby cut in. “Y/N, you take it.”

You nodded, already moving.

It was a blur of motion—gowns, gloves, voices raised, blood pressure dropping. But through it all, Robby watched you. Not just because you were his fellow. Not just because he was responsible. But because watching you was like watching a musician fall into a perfect tempo. Calm. Sharp. Present.

When the patient was stabilized and wheeled off to surgery, you finally exhaled. Robby caught the slight tremble in your hands as you peeled off your gloves. Not enough to alarm anyone else—but he’d seen it.

“You good?” he asked quietly, stepping beside you.

You nodded, too fast. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

Your eyes met his, and for a second, something flickered there. Not vulnerability exactly—but something adjacent to it. Then you looked away. “Yeah. Just adrenaline.”

Right.

Adrenaline.

—

By the time the shift was winding down, the halls had quieted. Whittaker had disappeared to “write up his patient”—which probably meant he was nervously rehearsing his signout. The rest of the team was doing what they always did: surviving.

Robby was finishing up some charting when he spotted you again, leaning on the wall near the vending machine, chewing what looked like a choc chip cookie “You’ve been quiet,” he said, approaching slowly.

You shrugged. “Just tired.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I’m always tired.”

He watched you for a moment. Your hair was pulled back messily, a smear of something on your sleeve. You looked like the job—lived-in, overstretched, maybe a little too in love with chaos. He liked that about you.

Too much.

“I saw the way Whittaker was looking at you,” he said, voice low.

You blinked. “What?”

“Earlier. When you were teaching him.”

“Oh. I think he’s just enthusiastic.”

Robby gave a short laugh. “You really don’t notice, do you?”

“Notice what?”

He turned to you fully. “He’s got a crush on you.”

You stared at him. “You’re insufferable.”

He raised an eyebrow.

You narrowed your eyes. “No way. He barely talks to me unless it’s about bowel sounds.”

“Which, for the record, is the med student equivalent of poetry.”

That pulled an unexpected snort from you. You shook your head, exasperated. “You’re making that up.”

“I’m not.”

“And what, you jealous or something?”

The silence hung between you like a challenge. He met your gaze, steady and unreadable.

“I don’t get jealous,” he lied.

You looked at him for a long time. Whatever you saw in his face made your expression soften, just a touch.

“Well, lucky for me. I’d be a terrible love triangle protagonist.”

That startled a laugh out of him. It caught him off guard—how easily you did that. Made the hospital feel like less of a warzone. Made him feel like less of a ghost walking through it.

They lingered in that space a moment too long. A moment too quiet.

Then you pushed off the wall. “I should go finish my notes.”

He nodded.

And just as you started to walk out, he spoke. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You glanced over your shoulder. And then— you smiled. Not the polite kind. The real one.

And just like that, you were gone.

He stood there for a long moment, the faint scent of your scent lingering in the air.

He didn’t get jealous.

But damn if he didn’t wish you’d stayed next to him.

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt imagine #the pitt fanfiction #dr robby #dr robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader #dr robby imagine #dr michael robinavitch #dr robinavitch #noah wyle

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chrissv4mp · 3 months ago

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♱ loser!

previous work from this au

after the whole incident with billie in the gym and in the bathroom, you and her started to hang out around school more often. she'd always come up to you in the halls, brushing off her friends kindly just to walk you to class—even if her own class was halfway across the school.

you two grew closer, and as her season went on and the girls' varsity basketball team won game after game, you began showing up to them—and billie noticed almost immediately.

however, when she would bring it up during school hours, you'd always brush it off with some lame excuse like, "oh, just gotta keep an eye on student behavior."

but billie knew it was all lies.

well, until the highly anticipated game against the ridgewood panthers, aka your schools rival. your counselor had told you that you needed to be there to monitor students due to the fights that had broken out last year with the girls' jv team.

so, here you were, sitting in the first row of the bleachers as the buzzer indicating the end of the third quarter rang out in the gymnasium loudly.

the panthers have racked up foul after foul, especially the shooting guard of their team and the girl who was always known to be rough: mackenzie carter. she'd gained at least 3 fouls just in the first quarter alone but toned it down when her coach threatened to take her off.

screams of encouragement echoed in the gym from supporters of both teams, almost overpowering the chants of the westfield cheerleaders. you bite your lip, eyes darting to the scoreboard that currently flashed 45-43. the wildcats' were up by only two because of a free throw, and their coach was ballistic.

the first 7 minutes of game passes by in a flash. neither the wildcats or the panthers have made any new shots and the entire gym was on the edge of their seats. jordan, the panthers' point guard, was currently dribbling down the court, scanning at half court to see who was open.

billie was on mack, defending her maybe a bit too harsh. however, when jordan pump-faked to the left and nobody was on number 16, billie jumped to get the ball, only to be frustrated at herself when jordan passed it straight to mack.

mack was short on the catch, causing the ball to graze her fingers before ultimately bouncing out of bounds. "jordan, what the hell was that pass?!" she yelled, eyebrows furrowed as she wiped her chin with her jersey.

avery, shooting guard for the wildcats, quickly jogged out of bounds to inbound the ball. slapping the ball, the team scattered, billie being the first open player she spotted.

you were on the edge of your seat as the rest of the gym was, eyes flicking to the clock every now and then as you watched the blur of players running around and bumping into each other on one side of the court. though, your main focus was on billie.

she was sweaty, strands of hair falling from her tight ponytail and sticking to her forehead and neck as she scrambled around the court with a concentrated look on her face. she's obviously exhausted, but the passion for the game keeps her going, which ultimately has her barking for the ball.

nobody expects it, not even macks teammates.

the second the ball leaves avery's hands, mack rams into billie like a damn linebacker. billie falls hard, back hitting the court hard and knocking the wind out of her for a moment. the entire gym erupts in loud "ooh's" as the ref blows his whistle.

"personal foul! blue 13," the ref calls, fingers flashing with macks jersey number.

your eyes widen as the movement on the court stops for a moment, everybody processing what happened. billie's still on the floor, gasping for air as she furrows her brows and lays her head back against the floor.

then the crowd erupts into screams of both anger and confusion—the wildcats' bench is on their feet, screaming at mack, the panthers' coach is throwing his hands up like it's a bad call, and the home student section is absolutely losing their minds.

you bite your lip, exhaling through your nose as you wait for billie to get up and fix herself, to stay in control of the game. but that's the last thing she's thinking of doing right now, and you can see it even from afar.

instead, she reaches for the ball and hurls it straight at the side of mack's face.

a collective gasp ripples through the crowd once again as the ball connects with mack's cheek with a loud smack. the blond stumbles back against her teammate, grabbing her cheek that's quickly turning red. and then everyone's scrambling.

both referees blow their whistles one after the other, and the closest one grabs the ball from the court to stop anyone from grabbing it again, "technical foul! red 23," he calls.

your eyes widen and you quickly jump onto your feet along with many others from both home and away. nobody's listening to the referees anymore, even as they desperately blow their whistles to stop the players from acting.

"what the fuck is your problem, eilish?!" mack growls, lunging at billie as her teammate helps her onto her feet.

billie doesn't back down, her eyes glinting with something dangerous as she steps forward, "you've played dirty this whole game, carter, you seriously weren't expecting someone to put you in your place?" she scoffs.

the gym somehow gets even louder as everyone screams their concerns and complaints.

jordan steps between them, shoving billie's shoulder harshly, "yo, i suggest you back the fuck up."

billie shoves back harder, snarling, "get off me."

riley, the panthers' team captain is quick to jump in when jordan steps closer to billie, her expression worried, "hey, let's just calm down, alri—?"

the clock has been stopped for at least 2 minutes now, and the gym is only getting more riled up as time passes. coaches are screaming, refs are trying to de-escalate the situation along with riley, and billie and mack are still at each other's throats.

but, of course, the panthers' on the sidelines just have to say something. another well known guard, tia brooks is shouting at billie, a cocky grin on her face, "damn, billie, you pissed 'cause we're gonna win?"

she gestures to the close scoreboard of 47-46, but billie doesn't even spare a glance. her hands are balled into fists, breathing heavy as she stares down tia.

"clock's ticking, superstar. one more lay-up and the game's over." she grins, winking at billie before turning on her heel and walking back to the bench.

billie's jaw tightens, heart beating rapidly in her chest as she tries to keep her cool. she doesn't want to get thrown out of the game with another technical foul, so she steps back, and you mentally applaud her for being the bigger person.

the referee's are finally starting to get things under control, calming down players and reassuring coaches on the sidelines. but somebody just always has to have the last word.

"just accept it," mack murmurs, stepping closer and pressing her finger against billie's chest, "you're a fuckin' loser."

her eyes dart between the three of her opponents before she shoves past both jordan and mack roughly, letting riley off the hook as she storms toward the bench. the gym quiets for a moment in confusion, and the referee's just exhale in relief.

billie's face is flushed with barely contained anger, but it's a different kind now. she doesn't even look at her coach, just stares at mack as she turns her back to line up for the free throws.

"i'm done." billie states, tone leaving no room for argument as her eyes flick to her coach, "i don't wanna play anymore. it's over, it's—"

coach parker freezes for a moment before cutting billie off, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, "billie, we need you on the floor. we're still up by one—"

"no," billie huffs, voice breaking and becoming quieter, "i can't play anymore. she's just gonna keep on targeting me like she has been this whole damn game. you saw it, didn't you? no matter what i do, she's gonna keep fouling me."

you watch from the first row bleachers, biting your lip and frowning in concern as you see billie hang her head low, shoulders tense and clearly done with the game. the gym buzzes with quiet chatter for a moment as the referee's talk with the coaches.

but then mack's voice breaks through, sharp and mocking, "look at that. billie eilish wants to quit," she grins, "guess you're just not cut out for the sport."

"shut the fuck up, bitch!" a student yells from the bleachers, causing heads to turn left and right in an effort to find them, "you've got four fouls, shut your ass up and play the game."

mack rolls her eyes, stepping away and placing her hands on her hips as she looks back at billie.

the panthers' are so close—one point away from ending the game and winning in the final seconds. the clock is ticking down, the wildcats leading by just one point. billie's on the bench, shouting at her teammates with every last bit of confidence she has in her.

but mack just forced a turnover and nobody has any energy left to catch up to her.

"get her!" billie screams, voice rough with frustration, "you guys are just gonna let her score that?!—guard her!"

the game has been an emotional nightmare, but it's all come down to this. the crowd is on their feet along with the players on the benches, but billie's focus is on the court, and only then does she regret telling coach to bench her.

her eyes flick to the clock. 20 seconds. mack is passing the three point line on the other side of the court, driving toward the basket without any struggle. the gym goes silent as mack goes for the lay-up.

the ball goes into the basket, sending the panthers into a frenzy. the supporting students from ridgewood high erupt into screams and cheers of excitement as mack jogs backward down the court with a sly grin on her face.

48-47. panthers are up.

celebrations are all billie hears, and she really can't take it anymore, standing up from the bench and ripping the hair tie from her hair, "fuck!"

billie runs a stressed hand through her hair, tugging at the ends, "who had mack?! somebody get on her!" billie screams.

her teammates are visibly exhausted, trying to keep their heads high, but the sting of the impending loss is sharp.

12 seconds.

avery gets the inbound pass, and she doesn't waste any time. she runs down the court, controlling her dribbles as she slid past the half court press and into the paint. just as she was about to get the shot, lily cooper, the panthers center, slaps the ball out of her hand and into tia's grip.

"good drive, just—fuck." billie murmurs as if avery can hear, head spinning as she hears the opposing team count down from 10.

avery forces a turnover as soon as tia gets past half court, dribbling the ball and passing to the small forward. tia jumps in, grabbing the ball just as the buzzer sounds. it's over.

panthers win.

billie slams her waterbottle onto the floor, her anger still simmering. her chest heaves as she watches the panthers come from off of the bleachers and the bench, cheering loudly.

you can see the disappointed look on billie's face even from across the court, her fists clenched as she stares down at the floor in defeat. you frown, watching as billie lines up with her team for post-game high-fives.

the cheerleaders are still chanting, trying to keep spirits high even as students leave the gym with unsatisfied looks on their faces. the panthers begin the walk for high-fives, muttering "good game" as they pass each of the wildcats.

mack and billie are the last in both lines, and the blond takes the opportunity to pull billie forward and whisper in her ear, "nice job, eilish. though, maybe next time you won't choke."

billie narrows her eyes, yanking her hand away from mack's grip. but she doesn't back down, not again. "next time meaning the championship? y'know, the one your lame ass team won't make it to?"

"you won by a single point. get over yourself, carter." billie scoffs, shaking her head.

"whatever." mack says, brushing it off with an eye roll before she walks over to celebrate with her team.

billie huffs out a laugh at her reaction, pulling her jersey over her head as she walks towards the bleachers where her bags were. she walks past you, not even noticing when you stand up and follow behind her on her way up to the top row.

the cheerleaders are beginning to pack up their things, filtering out along with the rest of the crowd. billie sits down next to her bags, leaning down to untie her shoelaces and slip into the old jordan 4's she was always seen wearing.

it's only when you sit next to her does she sense your presence. she doesn't look up right away, but her muscles relax a bit.

"hey, billie," you murmur, watching as she stuffs her basketball shoes and jersey into her duffel bag and grabs her hoodie from inside of it.

she exhales softly, pulling her hoodie over her head before replying, "what's up?"

her voice is still rough, a little softer, but you can tell she's still mad. then she finally looks at you, and you see the shortest glimpse of vulnerability in her pretty blue eyes.

"i'm sorry about the game," you speak quietly, "they're a rough team, that's been known—but... it's not your fault."

billie shakes her head, a dry, frustrated laugh escaping past her lips, "yeah, well that doesn't make it hurt any less." she shuts her eyes for a moment. "i can't—i don't even know what happened out there. carter was on me the whole game, there's no fucking way she only had three fouls."

you frown in sympathy, cautiously putting a hand on billie's shoulder. you feel her relax even more underneath your touch, "you did your best," you say, finally.

billie turns her head, staring at you for a long moment, her anger still high but starting to cool down a little.

"i don't know if i did, that's the thing." she looks down at her bags and shakes her head once again, "this loss makes us third in the state, and that's not good enough. not for coach, not for the team. not for me."

"i really wanted this one." she murmurs.

"i know," you say softly, rubbing her shoulder with your thumb, "i get it."

billie looks back at you, sighing deeply before standing up from the bleacher. she reaches down to sling her backpack over her shoulders, carrying her duffel bag in one hand.

"we'll get 'em next time, i guess," billie shrugs.

you nod, but then think of a way to lighten the mood with a joke, "if they even make it 'til 'next time,'"

billie laughs at that, glancing back at you with a genuine smile as she nods in your direction, "miss head of leadership making fun of students? damn, that'll cost you your title."

you roll your eyes at her, "i'm head of leadership for westbridge, not ridgewood."

billie shrugs in understanding before muttering that your point is fair. she glances back at you one more time before she leaves, deciding to go back up to you and pull you into an unexpected hug.

her head rests on your shoulder, inhaling the mixed scent of your shampoo and perfume, relaxing even more as she shuts her eyes like she's trying to engrave this moment into her mind forever. not the loss, just this. you.

"thanks for always showing up," she murmurs, voice quiet. vulnerable. "you don't have to, but you always do, and i know i don't always show it, but i'm really grateful that you do."

you weren't expecting this at all. the surprise washes over you, but you can't bring yourself to pull away. your arms wrap around her neck gently, holding her for a few seconds as you think of what to say. but billie continues before you can reply.

"i know i'm a mess out there sometimes, but it helps to know that you'll be there after to calm me down. even when i'm being a total idiot." she laughs, eliciting a chuckle of your own.

blush creeps onto your cheeks as billie pulls you tighter, and when you finally whisper back, billie's own cheeks flush, "i'll always be here, front and center. win or lose."

when billie pulls back, the loss of warmth hits you both at the same time. the way she looks at you in that moment has you questioning everything. but then her lips curl up into a teasing smile as she steps back.

"yeah, well... thanks for always showing up..." billie says, the smirk on her face indicating she has more to say, "even if you're just here to 'keep an eye in student behavior,'"

you chuckle at her words, watching as billie laughs to herself as she makes her way down the bleachers, eyes flicking back to you once more before she slips through the gym doors and out of sight.

2.9K WORDS

LETTERS. coming back with some jock!billie angst/fluff 🙏🙏 not my best, but i got a bit inspired after reading my first fic about jock!billie again!!! i'm trying to get back into the swing of things, so i apologize if there's any mistakes or plot holes 😭 hope this keeps u guys entertained :)

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @lamourdemalvie @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @fawninlove @slutforsturniolos @meliciousmel13

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ct7567329 · 18 days ago

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When Dreams Slip ~ Fixer x F! Jedi Reader

Summary: A near-death mission brings Boss to the Jedi Temple for healing and you straight into Fixer’s head. Delta Squad Week Day 3 - I Dreamed About You (alt) Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Mention of injury/blood, language, hints at explicit content but it's not actually there A/N: Okay, I know I know. The Republic wouldn't go through the effort to use force healing on clones, BUT in my world, the boys get the love and treatment they deserve tagging the lovely @deltasquadweek for generously hosting this fun event! (also tagging @orangez3st bc her unconditional love for the Delta boys) go check out BOTH these great pages! join my taglist / masterlist

The familiar buzz outside the Jedi Temple greeted you as you stood at the edge of the landing platform, your robes swaying gently through the cool air. You had spent countless days here, mastering Force healing, but today felt different.

The call had come through barely an hour ago: critical injuries, a squad of clone commandos inbound, one barely holding on.

You've treated countless Jedi before, but a soldier - this is first. The gunship slammed onto the landing zone, the hiss of repulsorlifts echoing off the platform. Four clone commandos in battered armor emerged from the gunship, one limp and bloodied between them. The others were grim, faces tense beneath the lines of fatigue and desperation.

You stepped forward, calm but focused. There was no time for introductions. “I’ll take him,” you rush to say, already reaching for the makeshift gurney.

One of them was covered in grime and streaked in what you were certain was not his own blood. He stepped aside but didn’t let go, “Can you save him?”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the world slowed. His eyes were focused, but behind them you saw a need so raw it almost made you flinch, "I think so," you replied, trying to mask the concern in your voice, “but we need to move now.”

The commando — Fixer, you would later learn — hesitated, then finally stepped aside, releasing his grip. You guided the battered commando onto a hoverstretcher and then pushed him into the Temple, the others falling in behind you like shadows.

Inside, the healing halls glowed softly with steady, bright light. You worked quickly, slipping into the practiced rhythm of a Jedi healer’s trance, letting the Force guide your hands.

Boss’s condition was dire, but you didn’t stop, not even when the strain began to pull at your senses.

When you were finished, his breathing finally evened out. The worst of the danger had now passed. You stepped back, drawing in a slow, steady breath and brushing the dried blood on your hands against your robe.

The commandos were waiting nearby, still tense. Fixer stood apart from the others, his helmet cradled under his arm, shoulders squared as if bracing for bad news.

You approached them, eagar to share the comforting news, “He’s stable now. It will take time, but I think we’ve pulled him back.”

Relief washed over their faces while Fixer's shoulders sagged ever so slightly, "Thank you.”

You bowed your head and met his gaze again, holding it just long enough for him to feel your sincerity. There was a depth to him that you couldn't quite read. It was mask beneath the soldier’s discipline, and for a brief, unguarded moment, you sensed a connection.

You offered them the faintest hint of a smile before stepping back to check Boss' monitors, “I’ll do everything I can.”

As you focused on stabilizing Boss’s vitals, you heard quiet murmurs punctuated by a muffled laugh.

“Would you look at that?” Scorch’s voice drifted over, laced with amusement, “Our Fixer’s got the look. You know, the look.”

Sev’s dry growl followed, “Not subtle at all.”

You glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Scorch, who elbowing Fixer lightly with a grin plastered across his face. Sev stood just behind him, arms crossed, his usual sabacc face softened with the slightest curl of his lip.

Fixer stiffened, but not quite fast enough to mask the way his eyes lingered on you a moment too long. His mouth tightened in an annoyed line, and his cheeks darkened beneath the battle muck still on his face.

“Cut it out,” Fixer muttered low and sharp, but Scorch just grinned wider.

“Cut it out? Oh, come on,” Scorch teased, “She saved Boss’s life, she’s practically glowing like a Jedi goddess, and you’re standing there like you’ve been punched in the gut.”

“Shut it, Scorch,” Fixer snapped quietly, his usual cool precision slipping just a bit.

You let a soft laugh escape, almost inaudible, before turning back to your work. If only they knew you could hear everything.

Sev lowered his voice, leaning into Fixer, “Admit it vod, you were staring.”

“At Boss," Fixer retorted, his teeth biting down on the inside of his cheeks.

“Oh you were,” Scorch cooed, smirking as he too leaned closer, “And I bet she noticed.”

You couldn’t resist a small, knowing smile. Without turning, you raised your voice just enough for them to hear, “I did.”

The awkward silence that followed was thick with Fixer's surprise and embarrassment. Scorch’s muffled snort of laughter echoed faintly in the stillness of the medbay. Sev made a quiet grunt, and you could practically feel the way Fixer froze, caught and completely out of his element.

You finished checking Boss’s vitals, ensuring the monitors were steady and his breathing was even. The worst for him was over for now, though the time he needed for a full recovery remained unknown.

You turned back to the Deltas, "You should all get some rest. Boss is stable, but I doubt he will wake up tonight."

Sev nodded, though his eyes flicked toward Fixer, amusement lingering in his expression. Scorch, ever the joker, gave Fixer’s shoulder a light slap, “Yeah, Fixer, maybe a little rest will clear your head, huh?”

Fixer’s cheeks flushed darker. He shot Scorch a sharp glare and lips parted slightly, as if he might say something, but then he closed them again, jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he said at last, ever so slightly nodding his head, “rest.”

Before they left, you offered them all a brief bow of respect, then returned to Boss’s side.

As they filed out, you felt Fixer shift over his shoulder to catch one last, quick look at you before he turned away.

That’s when the dreams started.

Fixer wouldn't dare to mention them to anyone, not even his closest squadmates. It felt too outside of his nature to share what he's be told was weakness. The Delta Squad had survived countless battles and relied on each other through chaos and fire. Feelings were a vulnerability he couldn’t afford.

Regardless, dreams came anyway. They were intense and unrelenting, breaking through the cracks of his trained composure.

At first, they were brief snapshots of his memory. Just a quick flicker of your face when his eyes closed rapidly grew more vivid. He saw scenarios of you dancing with him through the halls of the Jedi Temple, laughing while in the mess with his squad, fighting by his side in battle, but always, light seemed to gather around you like a halo. That light drew him in, even if it was just in his dreams.

Sometimes, you were standing at the edge of a platform on Kamino, hands glowing softly with the Force, your eyes closed in quiet concentration. Fixer felt the warmth of your imaginary presence. It was like a gentle tide reaching out to him, touching something buried deep within himself.

He jolted awake each time with a tightness in his chest, like he had been holding his breath all night. The image of your face was etched behind his eyelids, the memory of your voice, calm and steady, echoing in his mind.

And yet you've only crossed each other's paths once.

Once.

Fixer was fucked, and he knew it.

In the mornings, before the others awoke, Fixer would lie awake, staring at the dark ceiling of the barracks or the cold durasteel walls of the ship, trying to shake the feeling that the dreams left behind. His fingers twitched unconsciously, the way they always did when he was on edge, but this was different. This was a yearning that had no place in the life he led.

His vods noticed his pre-morning routine. Scorch teased him more often than usual, throwing knowing glances his way, while Sev silently observed the new habits. Boss seemed oblivious, but Fixer knew it wouldn't be long before one of the others filled him in.

As days, weeks, and months passed, his focus sharpened on data streams, target coordinates, busy comm channels and whatever else the day's mission threw at him, but his mind was never fully free. Every time the squad gathered around a holo or reviewed plans, Fixer would imagine it was your voice overlaying the chatter or your projection across the holo.

He chastised himself silently. You were a Jedi, a healer, stationed in the Temple. He was a clone commando, forged for war. You each belonged to different worlds, different codes.

But pretending your worlds weren't different was what dreams were for, and those dreams made it harder to ignore the feelings clawing at him.

One night, in the ship’s mess hall, Fixer found himself staring at an archived holo of a briefing you delivered for the 501st recently. The glow of the projection flickered against his tired eyes, and he felt a strange ache that resembled some bizarre mixture of admiration and something deeper. The sensation absolutely scared him.

He thought about asking you on a date the next time he was on shore leave. Perhaps confessing the dreams would make him feel less guilty about having them. But each time he found himself on Coruscant, he avoided the Jedi Temple like it was some disease. He feared the reputation it would give his squad if he confessed that he's been mind-fucking you for months.

So he stayed silent.

The hum of the ship faded into silence as Fixer slipped into the depths of sleep, but his mind refused the usual quiet. Instead, it pulled him into a vivid dream that was unlike anything he’d ever dared to imagine.

You stood in front of him, bathed in the soft golden light of the force. Your robes were loosened, the fabric falling just enough to reveal the skin of your neck and collarbone. There was lust in your eyes that sent a strange surge through his chest.

Without a word, you stepped closer. Fixer inhaled sharply as your hand lifted slowly to cup his cheek, fingers warm against the roughness of his battle-worn skin.

His helmet was already off in the dream, resting forgotten on a nearby table. You traced the scars along his jawline with a sacred tenderness before brushing your thumb lightly over a jagged mark above his ear.

“Fixer,” you rasped, drawing your face in closer to his, “You don’t have to hide from me.”

His heart thudded in his chest, the sound pulsating through his ears loud enough to drown out even the heaviest battle. For once, he felt soldier inside him fade away, leaving behind the shell of a touch starved man.

Your lips brushed his, soft and hesitant at first before pressing bolder and deeper. Fixer’s hands found your waist, gripping his fingers firmly on your skin.

The world around him seemed to have vanished into the rhythm of the kiss. Bursts of light danced around your bodies as if the Force itself was weaving a perfect union between you two.

You pulled your lips from his for just a moment, "I’ve dreamt about this too.” The trauma of years spent in battle fell away as you pulled him close again, your fingers dragging through his hair.

But with a sharp and sudden jolt, the dream dissipated into nothing.

A familiar voice broke through the silence, dripping with mockery, “Daydreaming about the Jedi healer again?” Sev’s teasing laugh echoed, dragging Fixer back to reality.

Fixer snapped his head up, heart pounding, cheeks burning beneath the dark helmet that now felt impossibly heavy. He cursed himself for drifting off into a mid-day slumber.

“Shut up, Sev,” he groaned, wiping a hand over his face as if trying to erase the memory.

"Come on," Boss ordered, waving Fixer and Sev over to the barracks door, "new mission just came in."

Fixer sighed. Perhaps this mission could be the one that finally took his mind off his dreams.

Or so he’d thought.

The squad had been summoned for an urgent briefing. They surrounded a holotable in a small, dimly lit room aboard a Republic cruiser. The holotable crackled to life, blue light streaking across the boy's eager faces.

In that moment, Fixer’s world stopped.

There you were.

Your image shimmered above the table, giving the squad a soft smile. The same smile that has been haunting his dreams for months. But now it wasn’t a dream. It was real and it right in front of him.

His breath stopped in his throat as your voice filled the room, "This mission will require precision and timing. The Separatists have established a temporary outpost near the Dantari plains. Intelligence reports suggest they’re housing stolen Republic tech and-”

Fixer barely heard the rest. His heart was pounding like it was a star ready to.explode. He could feel Sev and Scorch exchanging amused glances beside him, unspoken jokes radiating through the suddenly dense air.

“- your objective will be to infiltrate the facility, extract the data, and disable their communications. I’ll be coordinating remotely to assist with tactical support.”

Fixer allowed himself to stare blankly at you. He took note of the way you tilted your head, the way your hands moved as you spoke, the way your expression matched your words perfectly. It was all exactly as he remembered, except this time, it wasn’t his imagination.

“It's really you,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible even to himself.

Scorch nudged him with a grin, “You okay there, Fixer? You’re looking a little-” he paused, carefully choosing his next word, "lost."

Fixer’s cheeks heated beneath his helmet, “I’m fine,” he snapped back, "just digesting the mission."

Sev huffed, “Sure you are.”

As the briefing continued, Fixer forced himself to focus, but his mind kept drifting back to you. He tried to imagine how you’d sound if you were really here, standing right beside him instead of a flickering projection.

"Ultimately, the facility isn't too heavily guarded, so I assume infiltration won't be too much of a hassle. But remember, with their communications still alive, reinforcements won't be far behind you," you dragged your eyes slowly across each trooper's helmet before concluding, "may the force be with you boys."

“I dream about you,” Fixer blurted, not realizing he’d spoken aloud until Boss' finger suddenly stopped reaching for the 'end transmission' switch, and Scorch nearly choked, trying to cover his laugh.

Sev’s snort echoed through the room, "Wow."

Fixer’s kept his gaze locked on your hologram, expecting Boss to kill the transmission at any moment. Instead, Fixer watched in horror as you shifted your body to face him.

Oh.

It was a live transmission.

"I deem we'll need shoes!" Fixer quickly exclaimed, tripping over his words, "new shoes. Boots. Because- uh. The terrain, yeah? Looks like this mission is going to do a number on our boots!"

Sev turned his back to your projection across the holotable and removed his helmet, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was on the brink of absolutely losing it.

Sweat began to bead on Fixer's hands as he awaited your response to his desperate attempt at recovery.

You pressed your lips together and looked down at your feet before slowly pivoting on your toes to face Boss, "I'll keep in touch incase anything changes." With one final, playful salute, you ended the transmission.

Sev let out a long, exaggerated whistle, "That-", he began to chuckle, "that was- I- yikes."

Scorch reached for Fixer’s helmet and ripped it off his head, "Kriffing maker vod! You're redder than a Togruta on Tatooine."

"I thought it was a recorded transmission!" Fixer exclaimed, throwing his head back in disbelief.

"Stop. Stop," Sev begged, gasping for air. He was hunched over laughing, reaching out to use Boss as a post to prevent him from buckling over complete, "you didn't know she was live!"

Sev’s roars of laughter were too much for Scorch to handle. Unable to contain himself anymore, a loud snort came from Scorch's nose, a small amount of spit spewing from his mouth.

"Fixer, you di'kut!" Scorch howled, slapping Fixer's shoulder, "Boss, can you believe this?"

Boss smirked, allowing himself to have a rare laugh, "Yeah, that was a little tough to witness."

Tears began to stream down Sev's face as Fixer tore his helmet out of Scorch's hand and exited the briefing room.

"Oh, come on!" Sev recoiled, wiping a tear from his cheek, "I doubt she minds!"

But Fixer continued to storm out of the room, leaving Sev's words to fall on deaf ears.

Hours later the squad was gathered in the armory, double-checking weapons and gear before they dropped onto the Separatist facility. The usual quiet of preparation was filled with the soft clinks of armor and hushed whispers of personal checklists.

Fixer moved stiffly, still burning from the briefing incident. The grin Scorch wore was practically a blinding sun in his peripheral vision.

Finally, Scorch couldn’t hold it in any longer, “Alright, Fixer, I’ll bite,” he grinned, slinging his blaster across his back, “What exactly were you dreaming about? Was it a quiet walk through the Temple gardens, or was it the kind of dream that would get you court martialed."

Fixer groaned, zipping a supply pack shut, “I’m not answering that.”

Sev rolled his eyes, “That’s an answer in itself.”

Boss, the seemingly only voice of reason in the group today, cleared his throat. Fixer could have sworn he saw the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of Boss' mouth, “Focus, you two. We’ve got a mission to complete.”

Scorch’s grin only widened, “Oh, we’ve got two missions now.”

Fixer’s head snapped up, “Two?”

Scorch leaned in, lowering his voice as if revealing some grand conspiracy, “Yeah, the first one is what the General told us. Get the data, neutralize the comms, get out clean. Easy.” He paused dramatically, eyeing Sev, “The second one?”

Sev’s laugh deepened, “Making sure you don’t screw it up again when we get back.”

Fixer blinked, “Screw what up?”

Scorch clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Your game, Fixer. You’re gonna march yourself back into that Temple after this mission, helmet polished, armor gleaming, and you’re gonna ask her out. Properly this time. No muttering confessions to a live holo feed you didn't even know was live.”

Fixer’s cheeks flushed crimson again, "I—”

“No excuses,” Scorch cut in, smirking.

Sev threw his arm around Fixer, “Consider it mission critical. We’ll even cover for you if you need it.”

Boss shrugged before giving an approving nod, “They’re right. Finish the mission, and then go get her.”

For a moment, Fixer just stood there, realizing that the banter and the teasing was their way of saying they had his back. Finally, a slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “You are all ridiculous.”

Scorch winked, “And ration bars suck. What's new?”

Fixer sighed, stepping out from under Sev's arm, “Well let's get moving on this mission, the next one's pretty important to me."

#deltasquadweek #republic commando #delta squad #delta squad Fixer #fixer x reader #clone x reader #fixer x you #delta squad x reader #star wars fandom events #clone commando fixer

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year ago

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Humans are weird: Where Heroes Flew

When Florelia had gone to work today she had expected it to be a day like any other. She’d man her post in orbital control, direct cargo traffic from the spaceport on the surface of the planet to the orbital lanes in the upper atmosphere, and then head to her quarters for the night and binge some trans-system entertainment. She was hoping to catch some of the Dorgan Finals being played out on the surface. The matches had drawn in close to a billion offworlders to the event and was the largest gathering seen on Zenbara in decades.

She was just about to get up for her designated lunch break when she noticed something odd on her tracking monitor. One of the inbound ships was bypassing the waiting que for reentry and was attempting to skip ahead of the waiting ships for reentry.

Putting her headset back on, Florelia flipped through the communication channels until she had the channel for the marked ship.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, return to your position in que.” She transmitted.

No response.

“Inbound vessel DCN4, this is orbital control; return to your position in que immediately.”

Florelia wondered if the ships communicator was broken, but before she could call up an engineer to confirm the inbound vessel suddenly increased speed and began blowing past the que of waiting ships.

“DCN4 cut engines and respond immediately, this is your final warning.”

“You were given many warnings,” a strange voice came back, “and now we are the culmination of all your sins. We are the children of Nu’n and in his name we shall punish the nonbelievers and cleanse them from this universe.”

As the voice continued delivering their speech Florelia ran a scan of DCN4 to confirm its cargo. When the scan came back her eyes went wide and she slammed her fist into the panic button built into her console. Sirens began blaring as her supervisor came over as Florelia opened a direct line to orbital security.

“Security, apprehend ship DCN4 now!” Florelia shouted into her transmitter.

“What’s wrong?” her supervisor asked as he came up to her finally. Florelia turned to let him see her screen.

“I believe DCN4 is under the control of terrorist elements and is loaded with over 900 thousand tons of Genthi explosives.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth did her supervisor tap his com piece in his ear and shout, “Security move your asses now! Grab DCN4 and bring it to a halt.”

Entering in his command codes he then addressed the entire line of waiting ships still in que.

“Attention all vessels, evacuate the area immediately. Divert courses away from lane 71-93; repeat, all vessels evacuate the area immediately!”

Florelia watched on her scanner as the security ships left the station. She watched as they pushed their engines to the max to catch up to the rogue vessel but even at max speed they wouldn’t be able to catch it in time. Calculating the trajectory, the computer predicted that the terrorists were steering themselves directly towards the Dorgan Finals stadium on the planet below.

“Should we issue an evacuation for the stadium?” she asked her supervisor. To her surprise he shook his head.

“It wouldn’t matter. With that much explosives it’ll turn everything within a 500km radius into the world’s largest crater.”

Florelia couldn’t speak as the horror of the situation set in. The devastation about to unfold would be the worst terrorist attack in the known universe.

A sudden beep from her console made Florelia look back and see that while many of the other civilian vessels were scattering one ship had begun moving towards the terrorist ship.

“What in the niv’nar….”

Florelia brought up the information about the secondary contact and saw it was a human mining ship designated the “Jackdaw”.

“Orbital control to human vessel Jackdaw, what are you doing?” Florelia asked as she realigned the transmitter to communicate to the human ship. “You have been instructed to evacuate the area.”

“I thought about it,” A young cheerful voice came back over the radio, “but my pappy taught me that when a robber comes at you you don’t show them the door; you show them your arm.”

Not understanding what the human was talking about she looked up to see the live camera feeds being displayed on the main monitors. DCN4 was long and narrow, while the human Jackdaw was bulky and looked as if it had been welded together with scrap metal.

It looked as if the Jackdaw was going to block DCN4 but as soon as the cargo ship drew close the mining ship ignited its engines and lazily drifted above the cargo vessel as it blew by. As it passed underneath the mining ship Florelia watch as a dozen compartments opened up on the mining ship and grappling arms the size corvettes shot out and latched on to DCN4.

The arms soon went taut and the Jackdaw ignited its engines to full in a dazzlingly bright display of light.

Like a fisherman wrangling a mighty sea creature, the Jackdaw tried to pull the terrorist ship back into orbit and give the security ships a chance to disable the vessel before it could carry out its task. Every set of eyes in the control room was locked to the main monitor as the DCN4 engines burned brighter and the ship veered left and right to try and shake off the Jackdaw.

The security ships had almost made it to DCN4 when several of the grappling arms tore away chunks of DCN4’s hull. Each of the security ships swung to avoid the debris but were struck by the whiplash of the grappling arms and exploded in a cloud of burnt metal. To the horror of orbital control one of the grappling arms swung back and damaged a few of the Jackdaw’s engines as well.

With renewed fervor the terrorist ship began plunging once more into the atmosphere with the Jackdaw still holding on with what few grappling arms remained. Though it refused to let go of the terrorist ship, it was a struggle it could not win.

“Orbital control to Jackdaw, you’ve done everything you can; disengage and get out of there.” Florelia transmitted to the Jackdaw.

“Not everything,” came the reply over the radio, “I got one last trick up my sleeve.”

Florelia was going to ask what they meant when the Jackdaw began retracting the grappling arms while they still held on to DCN4. Slowly the arms pulled the two vessels closer and closer together as new energy warning sirens started off.

“That crazy bastard’s going to make a jump.” Florelia heard her supervisor say in disbelief.

“Jackdaw, if you attempt to make a jump in orbit-“ Florelia began but the human captain cut her off.

“It’s the last trick I got to play lassie.” They said in their chipper tone.

“There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the jump intact.” She persisted. “No ship has ever withstood a jump while in a gravity well.”

“First time for everything I suppose.”

The two ships were nearly touching hulls as the Jackdaw’s jump drive neared full power.

“Why are you doing this? You don’t know this world or these people; why give your life for them?”

To her surprise the human captain laughed over the coms.

“When someone’s in trouble you don’t stop to ask for details, you just help them.”

With that the two ships hulls finally touched and the Jackdaw ignited its jump drive. For a moment both ships blurred in and out of the atmosphere as DCN4 desperately tried to free itself from the mining ship’s grasp.

In a final bright flash the two ships made the jump out of the atmosphere, leaving behind a trail of scrap metal that slowly burned away as it fell to the planet below. To the public below it looked as if a series of elaborate fireworks were going off to celebrate the day’s events while those in orbit held a silent vigil for the unknown human captain who had just saved billions of lives.

For all the barbarity the human race has been known for it was easy to forget that there were still those amongst their people who would lay down their lives for strangers without ever needing a word of thanks.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

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usafphantom2 · 10 days ago

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As told by Paul F Crickmore in his book Lockheed SR-71 Operations in Europe and the Middle East was rare for SR-71 crews to spot their pursuers during Barents/Baltic Seas operations, for a fully functioning ‘Habu’ would remain out of reach of any NATO or Soviet interceptor. However, a jet with technical issues (or the onset of freak weather conditions) could bring the SR-71 back to within reach of chasing fighters. This happened to Majs ‘Stormy’ Boudreaux and RSO Ted Ross, who departed Mildenhall in 64-17980 at 1010 hrs on Jun. 3, 1986 on yet another flight Boudreaux find himself flying formation in almost blinding conditions, with the SR-71’s cockpit instruments obscured in the dark shadow of the dashboard below the windscreen. He was forced to arrange his tiltable car-like sun-visor to shield against the high contrast conditions.

Surrounded by ‘sea, sky or whatever’

That effort proved of little value, for while in the contact position ‘on the boom’, the tanker’s reference points for formation flying were flashing in such extreme contrast that, according to Boudreaux, they appeared to be surrounded by ‘sea, sky or whatever’.

A strong sensation of vertigo overtook Boudreaux, leaving him with a false sense of diving and climbing (and with the even more powerful sensation of flying inverted while refuelling). An interphone call to his RSO, Maj Ross, assured Boudreaux that he was not upside-down. He was then able to continue filling 64-17980’s tanks while fighting his sense of flying ‘straight up or straight down’.

After clearing the tanker, and his senses, Boudreaux climbed through 60,000 ft, where he noted through his periscope that 64-17980 was still pulling contrails, which should have stopped above that altitude. Another check at 70,000 ft revealed that he was ‘still conning’, which he hoped would surely stop before they approached the target area. Upon entering the Barents Sea zone, the aircraft began a programmed left turn to the northeast and then reversed in a large sweeping right turn to roll out on a westerly heading, which would take the SR-71 on the ‘collection run’ and back across the entry point. When established on the westerly heading north ,the crew noted that they were still ‘conning’, which was most abnormal at high altitudes. To add to their dismay, Boudreaux spotted three other contrails ahead of them and off to the left, but turning to converge in what might be an intercept. Another southerly glance revealed more ‘cons’ closing from the left, but at a lower altitude.

Six Soviet fighters trying to intercept an SR-71

These six Soviet fighters, each separated by approximately 15 miles, were executing what appeared to be a well-rehearsed turning intercept manoeuvre to pop up somewhere in the vicinity of the fast-moving ‘Habu’ and potentially fire off sophisticated air-to-air missiles. The Soviet lighter pilots had executed an in-place turn, which would have positioned them perfectly for a head-on attack had 64-17980’s track penetrated Soviet airspace. As Ross monitored the fighters’ electronic activities, Boudreaux increased speed and altitude.

Suddenly, a contrail shot by just beneath the nose of the SR-71, leaving both crewmembers waiting for a missile or another aircraft to appear which might have ‘spoiled their whole day’. It was with great relief that Boudreaux realised that they were now paralleling their inbound contrail — they had laid it while turning northeast prior to heading west! For a few moments their hearts missed several beats as they contemplated the thought of having unwanted high-Mach company 15 miles above the cold Arctic seas.

Boudreaux settled the SR-71 back into a routine high-Mach cruise, the autopilot completing a long ‘lazy turn’ around the north shore of Norway before the pilot started his descent toward another refuelling. To complete the mission, the crew made an easy high altitude dash into the Baltic corridor and down through West Germany, before heading home to Mildenhall.

@Habubrats71 via X

#sr 71 #sr71 #sr 71 blackbird #blackbird #aircraft #usaf #lockheed aviation #skunkworks #aviation #mach3+#habu #reconnaissance #cold war aircraft

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iamthebastard2017 · 2 months ago

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The radio Call

The ER radio crackled to life " Inbound, 65 year old female, full arrest, unknown down time" The ER staff became a sense of organized chaos, quickly donning their gowns and gloves, while making ready the resuscitation suite.

In the ambulance the EMTs and fire personnel were administering CPR, cardiac drugs, and life sustaining oxygen hru the Ambu bag. Deep concise compressions one after the other in the center of her chest. All the while they kept an eye on the EKG hoping for a sign of life. Her nude petite frame Shook under the deep thrust in the center of her breast. Still asystole rolled across the screen.

Her husband had arrived home after her, hearing the shower running he made his way up the stairs. Rounding the corner at the top he was Met with the sight of his wife lying naked on the bathroom floor. Her lips were blueish purple, and her eyes open wide showing her pupils fully dilated, her skin was a pale Ashen gray. He quickly felt for a pulse a he dialed 911, but there was nothing, no pulse no breathing. He quickly rolled her flat and gave to breaths, watching as her chest and ample mature breast rose and fell. He quickly repositioned himself straddling her at the waist, interlocking his hands he started compressions, as he thrust his body weight down between her breast he could hear the cartilage an ribs popping, gradually becoming less and less. He continued CPR until the EMTs arrived, the bathroom was to cramped for adequate life saving measures to take place. He watched as they grabbed both arms and her legs carried her limp lifeless body to the more open hallway. Her body folded easily an her head hung limply to the side. Back on the floor EMT 1 began compressions once more as EMT 2 attached the monitor electrodes and wires.

Holding CPR they viewed the monitor she was in ine vfib, pulling the defibrillator from its case they set the joules, covered the steel plates with conducting gel and placed them on her chest. CLEAR, the shock jolted her body which shuddered as the electricity shot across her heart. Immediately she fell into full arrest.

Now as they drove to the hospital there had been no change for 10 minutes, constantly under CPR. Her eyes still wide and dilated, stared blankly back at EMT 1 as he squeezed the Ambu bag. Her body jolted and shuddered under the relentless deep compressions.

After 15 minutes they arrived, the doors of the ambulance were thrown open and the gurney slid out. Donnthe hallway they rushed to the resuscitation suite, all the while EMT 2 gave one handed compressions, her stomach distended as her breast bone caved in on her still lifeless heart. Once in the suite they lifted her limp body on the resuscitation bed, which had a built-in pad which arched her back allowing easier airway management. Immediately a trauma nurse began compressions again as others flooded her veins with medication. They injected bicarb in large doses to create higher volumes within her circulatory system. 10 minutes after arrival she moved from asystole to vfib, the paddles were readied and charged. Placing one above her right breast and the other on her left side just below her breast, the attending doctor pushed into her pale skin and released the joules across the heart.

A thud was heard as the paddles discharged, the muscles in her torso tightened as her arms drew in and upward towards her chest, then fell limp to the side of the resuscitation bed. As cpr resumed her arms slowly swayed back and forth in rhythm of the compressions. With each Thrust downward her breast rolled inward to the caving chest as her stomach distended outward. Her whole body shook and shuddered under the relentless effort of the staff.

Again they opted to shock her quivering heart,

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prvtocol · 2 months ago

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AARGAU :: “The Jewel of the Zug System”

Astronavigational Data: Zug system (Coordinates L-10), Core Worlds Orbital Metrics: 364 days per year/24 hours per day Government: Bank of Aargau (Intergalactic Banking Clan) Population: 4.8 billion (84% Human, 12% Droids, 4% Droids) Language: Basic, Aargauese Terrain: Cities, Gardens, Mountains, Forests, Jungles, Oceans, Rivers Major Cities: New Escrow Areas of Interest: Dawn Pyramid of Aargau, Garden of Butterflies, IBC Arcology Major Exports: Precious metals, bankers Major Imports: Financial assets

Aargau is the third planet in the Zug system (coordinates L-10) in the Arrowhead region of the Core Worlds. It sits close to Coruscant and the Corellian Run and Ag Circuit hyperlanes. The saying, “Better poor on Aargau than wealthy anywhere else,” speaks to Aargau’s spectacular wealth as a center of banking and commerce and its vast reserves of valuable metals. Several governments, corporations, and organizations store their assets in one of its thousands of secure vaults.

The government, the Bank of Aargau, part of the Intergalactic Banking Clan, operates with only three primary laws called The Three Statutes of Aargau: I. No unlawful removal of precious metals; II. No possession of weapons except by Aargau citizens who must be armed; III. No willful conspiracy to defraud, discredit, or deceive the Bank of Aargau. These crimes are punishable by immediate execution carried out by IG assassin droids.

In Aargau, order and organization are paramount. During the Galactic Empire, the Bank’s owned subsidiary, Bank of Aargau Security, is considered the largest privately owned army in the galaxy. The Aargau Home Guard often plays war games around the capital, New Escrow, to display military power and deflect foreign powers from invading the planet. However, Aargau’s financial position ensures this remains an unpopular consideration. The Bank of Aargau Security subsidiary, BAS Customs, also strictly monitors inbound and outgoing traffic, enforcing the planet’s stringent laws on exports. Visitors can leave their weapons on their ship and are generally given access to Levels One to Three if visiting for banking purposes.

Aargau’s climate is temperate, and most but not all of its surface is covered by city. Sections of these sprawling cities are laid out in levels forming gigantic pyramids rising kilometers above the surface and with levels thousands of meters apart. Aargau also holds one of the Twenty Wonders of the Galaxy, the Dawn Pyramid of Aargau, constructed by the Sharu civilization in 100,000 BBY. As Aargau's own civilization grew, the Dawn Pyramid inspired the planet's architectural theme.

City levels are allocated according to function with the upper and smallest levels housing Planetary Customs Security Checkpoints to check all visitors incoming and outgoing. Below levels hold administration, banks, vaults, treasuries, merchants, and living levels. The lowest level is the Undercity.

For instance, the IBC Arcology pyramid in New Escrow contains the following levels:

Level One (Red): Security and Customs Level Two (Green): Administrations Level Three (Yellow): Where off-world banks and banking accounts and precious metals are stored Level Four: Lodging Level Five: Merchants Level Six: Entertainment and Recreational Facilities Level Seven: Undercity (on the planet’s surface)

Every level is color-coded to make it easier to navigate, especially since these pyramids are akin to giant mazes with tunnels to different sectors. Droids, which comprise 12% of the population, are programmed to find their way around while people can spend years memorizing the access codes and charts and still get lost. Official routes between levels are taken via turbolift and require special clearances and sometimes money to access. Thousands of other unofficial routes via capsule tubes exist between levels but are only known to a handful of people and many hidden for so long they have been forgotten. There are also unknown levels, such as the Sanitation Level, right above the Undercity. Along with safety, everything is extremely clean.

Certain sections are more crowded than others, such as Level Three where off-worlders are given clearance to conduct their business. The Undercity likewise is very crowded with lifeforms from all over the galaxy. The only light is artificial, coming from buildings, turbolifts, and capsule tubes. Due to Aargau’s extremely focused laws, crime runs rampant; anything goes and nonnatives walk armed. Inhabitants are drawn by the fortunes to be made in trading currency, the black market, the selling of gold, credits, data, droids, jewels, weapons, ships, and information. There are also several gambling dens owned by the Hutt Desilijic clan.

Sources: 01. 02. 03.

#( hc ) .#v ( star wars ) .#( locations ) .#aargau #(( started this 2 yrs ago and decided it was time to finish it just bc. icnb i purchased a 1970s comic and a YA novel for more details :]#but here's most of what we do know about the planet bri is from (free of my own hcs minus the pyramid pic) ))

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jeanniebug623 · 1 year ago

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🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 2: Something's Missing…

The evac was taking too damn long according to Quaritch. When he was head of security, and still human, emergency air evacuation would have been completed in less than 45 minutes given their close proximity to Bridgehead. He was pacing angrily, his tail flipping wildly with every turn. The squad had the camp repacked in less than 10 minutes. At least he could rely on someone.

“Don’t worry, boss, won’t be long now.” Wainfleet said, checking his watch and glancing at Zdinarsk, who nodded to confirm the Samson was close while staring at her radar. Even Z-Dog had abstained from snapping her bright pink gum bubbles so as not to annoy the colonel.

Quaritch wanted to go off on a tirade about how they’d be halfway to base if he were still in charge, but his squad didn’t deserve that. He had loyal soldiers in his unit. Ja had immediately dropped the marine mode and worked on Spider. With the boy unconscious, the good doctor couldn’t remove his mask to even clean the bloody nose. He’d checked his heart rate, breathing, and done a quick brain scan with the rudimentary equipment he could carry in the field.

“He’ll need an MRI, CT, and neuroimaging.” Ja said, the only time Quaritch stopped leaving a path in the underbrush, “To start. And if you could get me the monitor reports from his…” He paused and his ears went back. “Questioning, it would-…”

“Consider it done.” Quaritch interrupted with a gruff tone. Anything to help Ja and the medical staff at Bridgehead figure out what brought on Spider’s sudden outburst. Outburst was a kind term for what they just witnessed.

Quaritch remembered a technician calling Spider ‘completely feral’ when he was first captured by the RDA. He screamed and cursed in English and Na��vi, tried to break the one-way mirror with the chair he’d been graciously offered then had taken away right after, and attempted to force open a security door that not even a dozen Na’vi could do. Quaritch saw that anger, but that was child’s play compared to the manic look in the boy’s eyes during the verbal assault.

“About goddamn time…” Quaritch growled when they heard the Samson coming inbound. They’d carefully moved Spider to a clearing so the aircraft could land instead of slinging him over his shoulder like the last time he transported the kid against his will.

“Someone grab the backboard.” Ja said to anyone close as he tucked the handheld brain scanner into a cargo pants pocket. But he was shouldered aside before anyone reached the aircraft to retrieve the stretcher.

“No time. Move out!” Quaritch said as he slid an arm under Spider’s back and knees, scooping him up easily and jogging over to the open side doors. He ducked as he shuffled towards the back of the Samson where there was more space to kneel on one knee and still hold the boy in his arms. He didn’t have many memories of holding the kid when he was an infant. Never thought he would get another chance...

The rest of the squad jumped on board and they were off. Back to the place Quaritch promised he’d keep Spider away from…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As much as Quaritch didn’t want to give him up, Wainfleet and Ja convinced their commanding officer to allow the hospital staff to take over Spider’s care when they reached the med bay. He didn’t want the boy out of his sight but what could he do at that moment?

Well, there was one thing.

“Lyle, with me.” Quaritch said as he started walking away. He kept going as he turned to point back at Ja. “Stay here and report as SOON as you get somethin’ from the kid or the doctors.”

Ja saluted and stood at attention in the entrance that doubled as a classic hospital waiting room, complete with terribly boring artwork on the wall.

Quaritch and Wainfleet marched right to the heart of Bridgehead City: the Sec-Ops command center. Until it had more civilian citizens, Bridgehead was just another military base. Even if he didn’t have security clearance, Quaritch wouldn’t be stopped as he walked straight into a conference room Ardmore was heading with other high ranking officers, RDA superiors, and holographic displayed representatives still back on Earth.

“Colonel Quaritch.” Ardmore said with a hint of feigned surprise. When it came to the city and the RDA, nothing happened on Pandora that the general didn’t know about. “Tired of the kid already?”

Whether it was coincidence or not that Ardmore asked about Spider, Quaritch steeled himself and kept a calm composure as he dutifully saluted his superior officer.

“Not exactly the issue, General Ardmore.” Quaritch said with such a cool tone that even Wainfleet was surprised considering how fired up he was from the forest until they crossed the threshold into the conference room. “The boy suffered a severe nosebleed and collapsed unconscious. An emergency evacuation seemed necessary for an asset in custody of the RDA, ma’am.”

Ardmore narrowed his eyes slightly. Well spoken and well played. She looked to her mix of real and holographic audience, “If you will excuse me, I apologize for this interruption. Colonel.”

She nodded as she turned towards her office door and led Quaritch in. Wainfleet stayed back, crossing his arms and scanning the rooms. He wasn’t sure he'd seen more stuffed shirts in one room before.

“You say the boy collapsed?” Ardmore asked as she casually rounded her desk to sit down and look at the colonel, “That’s unfortunate to hear. I suggest you consider leaving Mr. Socorro in the capable hands of our medical staff while you continue your field missions.”

“With all due respect, General, I took responsibility for him for a reason. I’m not about to abandon my responsibilities due to a little mishap. I’m still at your disposal, ma’am, but one mission at a time.” Quaritch said coolly though he was boiling inside. He didn’t expect the general to give a damn about some wild child raised by the enemy who beat even her toughest interrogation methods. Yet, he was still angered by her lack of concern. Or dare you think it…compassion?

Ardmore didn’t respond just yet. Loyalty, responsibility, mission. Quaritch was playing all the right cards, and he wasn’t in a place where she could question it.

“Is the boy’s condition stable?” Ardmore asked with very little interest.

“To be determined, ma’am.” Quaritch started, trying not to bite off his tongue with his sharp teeth every time he showed her extra respect, “That’s why I so rudely interrupted your meeting. My apologies.”

“You saved me really.” Ardmore said, sounding bored, “I’m sure you remember how tedious it can be explaining living on Pandora to those who’ve never set foot here. So how can I help with the asset, Miles?”

Hearing his own name shouldn’t make Quaritch feel an anxious twinge in his chest. He’d lived with it his whole life. But now…having heard the way Spider said it…this alter ego or whatever the hell Quaritch was dealing with. He had never heard his name spoken with such malice.

“My medic did a check on the boy out in the field but it’s hard to determine the correct treatment without knowing all possible triggers. I would like to have a full report of the boy’s medical reports from his interrogations.” Quaritch explained. He made the request without actually asking. Making it clear he wasn’t ASKING for anything.

The general went quiet and appraised the ten-foot-tall reincarnation of one of Pandora’s most reputable and ruthless past inhabitants. Of course she knew the human Miles Quaritch had a son. She had taps on every human that stayed behind on the moon, including the ones born there.

Miles ‘Spider’ Socorro was practically the poster child for humanity’s successful transition to life off planet Earth. The first human born on Pandora; an intergalactic celebrity. But Ardmore didn’t have time for “celebrities”, the RDA could deal with the PR concerns. She needed her soldiers in line to keep the hostiles in line. If the head of her greatest tactical unit was distracted, it could cause a ripple effect through the ranks.

“Consider it done, Colonel.” Ardmore said, surprisingly agreeable considering Quaritch would likely respond negatively to what he learned, “So long as I can continue to count on your assistance with the hostiles. You’re not here to babysit, Miles, you’re here to finish what you started.”

“Understood, General Ardmore.” Quaritch said with another salute. Until the RDA found some hostiles to pacify, he would focus on Spider.

Ardmore kept her word when she said Ja would have the full medical report by the time Quaritch and Wainfleet returned to the medical wing. Sure enough, they entered the waiting area to see Ja crouched down against the wall and staring intently at a tablet. The colonel noticed how his medic, who was the calmest under pressure of the whole squad, looked unsettled.

“Ja, everything good?” Quaritch asked as he and Wainfleet approached. The medic looked up, his ears perking straight up from pinned back against his head.

“Sir, can we speak privately?” Ja said in a quiet, rushed voice.

Quaritch felt that twinge of anxiety come back and it was spreading through his chest. The three recoms ducked uncomfortably into an empty triage room and waited until their sensitive ears heard no one nearby. Quaritch looked back to Ja, he was crouched down and staring at the tablet again.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, doc.” Quaritch said with narrow eyes. He exchanged a look with Wainfleet, who just shrugged at Ja’s continued silence, before looking back to Ja. “Corporal. Speak up.”

“Sir, may I speak freely?” Ja said as he looked up to Quaritch. He received a prompt nod from his commanding officer and let out a sigh before asking, “What the fuck?”

“You’re gonna have to elaborate.” Quaritch growled, ears going back and tail flipping. Just what the hell did that report say to make one of his men speak so bluntly?

“Sir, how many of Spider’s interrogations did you witness?” Ja asked as he was swiping around on the tablet’s holographic screen.

“Two.” Quaritch said, eyes roving over Ja’s quick moving hands, “First interrogation lasted all of three minutes before he passed out. Second one lasted almost an hour and they didn’t get jack from the neuroscanner.”

“I’m not surprised…” Ja said as he turned the tablet around for the other recoms to look at. There were four separate images of top view brain scans. From left to right and top to bottom, the amount of bright oranges and red increased in the frontal lobe. Ja went on to explain, “Sir, each of these scans are a follow-up from a different session in the neuroscanner. They threw him in there four times, I’m guessing two more times between the first session when he passed out and the last one before you took custody. That’s twice the legal limit for this type of intensive interrogation per the UN’s Humane Treatment of POW Act.”

Quaritch stared at the scans, listening to Ja’s words. Spider had been interrogated while hooked up to the neuroscanner four times. FOUR times. And he only knew about two of them! He insisted on being present for the interrogations to make sure they went smoothly.

He felt himself feeling sick by how quickly anger was bubbling up inside him. Ja was continuing to explain the risks while Wainfleet stared at Quaritch, who was completely detached from the conversation. Eventually, the second in command told the medic to hold off on the explanation.

“Boss?” Wainfleet asked cautiously. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, “Colonel.”

“How’d this get past medical approval?” Quaritch asked quietly. He didn’t doubt for a second what the RDA was willing to do to get results. Hell, he’d invented most of the carrot and stick techniques used on Pandora!

“All these records have ‘Restrictions Omitted’.” Ja answered.

“How does that happen?” Quaritch felt the anger in his gut prompting his heart rate to pick up.

“I don’t know for sure, sir, but to bypass medical restrictions for something like this?” Ja theorized, though the politics of the situation weren’t his specialty, “You’d have to…not be protected by them.”

#atwow #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro #atwow spider #spider quaritch #recom quaritch #atwow fanfiction #ao3 writer

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digitaldetoxworld · 6 months ago

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Top Quora Marketing Tactics for Startups and Small Businesses

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#quora marketing #Step-by-step guide to Quora advertising

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ringflow · 2 years ago

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Revolutionizing Customer Support: Unlock Success with Inbound Call Center Solutions

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#ExceptionalCustomerService #InboundCallCenter #CallRouting #IVRSystems #SkilledAgents #OptimizingCustomerExperience #CallDistribution #PersonalizedInteractions #QueryResolution #RevolutionizingCustomerSupport

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consistantly-changing · 2 years ago

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[Image descriptions in order: an ask Reddit post by u/robottle4 titled "What's the weirdest thing you've done while your brain was on autopilot?"]

[The rest of the images are screenshots of Reddit comments, replying to this post. They say: u/NoHomersAllowed: Pulled into my complex, walked up the stairs, my keys wouldn't open the door and then I realized it had been seven years since I had lived there.]

[u/tiffaniac: Meeting my brother's in-laws for the first time. They asked me what my name was. I said "Pete". My name is Tiffani.]

[u/Aurora320: Poured orange juice instead of milk into my cereal, put the bowl of cereal into the fridge, walked back to the table with nothing wondering where the fuck I put my cereal.]

[u/pyrrhicvictorylap: Instead of ground coffee, I put a couple scoops of sugar in my coffee filter and brewed it. u/Ryman_Playz replies: How did it taste u/j_the_a replies: Like sweet, sweet failure.]

[u/LoneMantiss: Once while playing an intense board game, I was concentrating so hard that my buddy realized that he could just hand random things to me and I'd take them and put them in my jacket pocket or place them on the table in front of me. I only realized when I ran out of space to put things.]

[u/Cactus_octopus: put my phone in the fridge to "charge" u/swissarmyturtle replies: Makes sense.]

[u/the_guy_guy_guy: I have poured my dog a bowl of cereal instead of giving her food multiple times.

[u/CoffeeHead: I used to fall asleep in class quite often, and normally my writing would trail off in to something illegible and then I'd be out for the count for 10/15 mins. One time I woke up after an in-class power nap to find that my writing had trailed off and then I'd written "my son" as clear as anything at the end of the sentence. I was 13/14 at the time and don't have any children.]

[u/SalletFriend: I ordered a meatlong football from subway. I then got upset when the dude had no idea what I wanted. Then we both laughed.]

[u/hotmaleescort: Cleaning up my face with electric clippers. Thought, "Oh, missed a spot." and proceeded to shave off my fucking eyebrow.]

[u/Stanimality: I worked in an outgoing call centre, left and joined an inbound call centre. The amount of times I would say "Hi, my name's Stanimality just calling to see if xyz" when answering the phone was off the charts. People get very confused when you they've rang you and you act like you're the one ringing.]

[u/helpilostmypants: When I was 18, hanging out with my then girlfriend at her place. Fell asleep for a bit, and when I woke up she said, "you're cute when you sleep." My immediate sleep-brain reply was, "not when seven people end up dead."]

[u/romulusbc: I cared for a horse for several years. First thing in the morning I would go put feed and water in the field, lead her out, and close the fence behind her. One morning as I'm walking back into my house, I hear a weird sound behind me. The sound of hooves on linoleum. She looked as surprised as I was that I had brought her into my kitchen. Luckily, she never told anyone so my secret is still safe.]

[Uncredited: The other day I was checking in at an amusement park. After the guy scanned my ticket, I, for some unknown reason, held out my hand. And the guy handed me his scanner. u/Usually_lurks12 replies: I knew none of those people where paid. They all just pass on the torch.]

[Uncredited: I grabbed my "lunch" on my way out the door for work in the morning. I kept wondering what that beeping noise was the whole drive there. Couldn't figure it out. Got to work and grabbed my lunch, only to realize I had actually grabbed the baby monitor.]

[u/lil_beefer: I had to go to Walmart once after finishing my midnight cashier shift from a competing grocery retailer across the street. I absentmindedly grabbed my stuff, approached the cashier and asked her if she found everything ok. We stared at each other blankly for a little bit.]

[u/Dewey_Oxberger: Woke up early Monday morning in a bit of a panic. I had forgot to buy cat food yesterday. The cat must be starving. I hurry and get ready for work. I plan a detour to the store to buy the cat food. On the drive there I'm planning my run into the store and I realize I don't know what isle the food is on. How could I not remember what isle the cat food is on? Then it hits me. I don't have a cat. I haven't had one for several years.]

[u/GeneraljesterI'm a security guard for Amazon and I have to do bathroom checks. Caught myself yelling "SECURITY!" right before going to the restroom at a bar on my day off. Thank God it was empty.]

[u/FiveAgst1: When I was in school (6th grade I think) my mom would make my bagged lunch. She would wrap soda cans with aluminum foil so they would stay cold (pretty sure that doesn't work). One day I un-wrapped my soda and discovered she packed me a beer that day.]

[u/glitterphobia: My husband and I had an inside joke. Whenever someone lost something, the other person always asked, "have you checked inside your butt?" I was in a meeting at work (conservative and traditional corporate office) one day and a coworker said, "I can't find my pen." Without any thought or hesitation I quickly responded, "have you checked inside your butt?" As soon as I said it, I snapped back to reality and realized I was at work. As you can imagine, everyone went silent and stared at me as my face turned bright red.]

[Uncredited: Had a pet rat out roaming with me while I made some toast. cleaned up, put the rat in the fridge and didn't realise until I put the butter in the cage that oh shit Went to reclaim the rat, she was all "Fuck off, the food box is MINE now". Already gotten into the ham. u/whatsmellslikeshart replies: That was the best day of that rat's life. u/Taleya replies: I rushed all over there concerned and apologetic and she's fuckin' arse-deep in a packet of ham and actually tried to cling to the door as I took her out. She'd seen fuckin' paradise and wasn't leaving. u/touchedbyamallangel replies: YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO BACK]

[u/jefferlewpew: Spent ages cooking dinner only to pick the plate up and empty it straight into the bin. I was so tired and hungry, I cried

u/mynameisadamorisit: I was making breakfast one early morning and cracked my eggs straight into the garbage.]

[u/Kahzgul: Oh man. Okay, I'm late to the party here, but I've got a great answer for this. I was working as a summer counselor at a college, helping incoming freshmen pick classes and stuff like that. The job was exhausting, but I loved it, so I poured my all into it, making arts and crafts in my off time to make the experience more fun for the kids, writing skits, building sets and costumes, that sort of thing. The result was that I barely slept (3-4 hours per night, for 3 months on end). One night, around 3 am, just as I was going to bed, I realized that I'd forgotten to tell my kids that tomorrow's meeting was in my office, and not at the outside benches where we'd met the day before. Oops! So I sat down to write a note for each of my students. Here's what I wrote:

Hi (Student Name), Just letting you know that we're all meeting in my office tomorrow at 9 am instead of at the benches. Thanks, Kahzgul]

[Simple, right? i sat down to write out 12 notes and I was dozing off as I did so. Finally got them all done around 4 am and delivered them under each student's dorm room door. Slept for 3 hours! The next morning at 9 am sharp, the students started filing into my office. As they sat in the chairs, one asked, "Mr. Kahzgul, why didn't I get a funny note like everyone else?" Um... what? I didn't write any funny notes. wrote.. Oh God. I had been dozing off... WHAT DID I WRITE??? And here, dear reader, is what the notes said:

Dear (student), Just letting you know that I see bicycles bicycling. --Kahzgul

Dear (student), Just letting you know that we're all crazy everywhere. You can eat here, enjoy the food. Thanks, Kahzguuuuuul

Dear Student (I actually wrote "student" instead of their name), Student student student. Student. --Kahzgul]

[Dear (student), Just letting you know that office buildings explode. Love, Kahzgul

Dear (student), I don't know why I'm writing this. I see it. Maybe.

Dear (student), Just letting you know that we're all meeting people all the time everywhere we go. Thanks, Kahzgul (and then I drew a heart with an arrow through it)

Dear (student), Just letting you know that we're all meeting in my room tomorrow morning at 9 am. SHARP ! sharp. *sharp*. **SHARPPPPP**. --**KAHZGUL** (sharp)

The other notes were all the intended message. Needless to say, I was freaked the hell out. Thank GOD my students thought this shit was hilarious, because I do not, to this day, remember writing any of those (but they were definitely in my handwriting).

edit: Gold! I'm so happy that this story is making so many people laugh!]

(source)

#brain farts #autopilot

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obsidianchroniclehydra · 2 days ago

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Inbound Call Center Management support

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#Inbound Call Center Management support

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digitalmore · 3 days ago

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#IFTTT #Digital More

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ventageie · 5 days ago

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🚚 Why Every Logistics Business Needs a Custom Driver App in 2025

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