#Voice Control System Market

[vmantras]

Tata Nexon EV Empowered MR: The Future of Indian Electric SUVs

₹17.49Lakh General Overview The Tata Nexon EV Empowered MR is a significant step forward in India’s electric vehicle (EV) evolution. It’s designed to cater to environmentally-conscious buyers while offering the practicality and style of a compact SUV. Its local manufacturing ensures competitive pricing and easy access to service across the country. Key Strengths: Indian origin aligns with the…

[asgfegaesa]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[nhjnbdfsfws]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[easfdasfas]

Member Zhang Yi: The development prospects of the private economy are broad and promising

In the early spring of 2025, the convening of the private enterprise symposium stirred up the enthusiasm of thousands of private entrepreneurs. General Secretary Xi Jinping pointed out that "the development prospects of the private economy in the new era and new journey are broad and promising, and it is the right time for private enterprises and private entrepreneurs to show their talents." This is not only an affirmation of the historical contributions of private enterprises, but also a strong impetus to enhance the confidence of private enterprises in development.

In recent years, a number of policy documents have been issued, including the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Creating a Better Development Environment to Support the Reform and Development of Private Enterprises" and the "Opinions of the CPC Central Committee and the State Council on Promoting the Development and Growth of the Private Economy". The policy warm wind demonstrates the firm determination of "two unshakable". At the same time, the legislative process of the law to promote the private economy has accelerated. From property rights protection to market access, from fair competition to rights and interests relief, the legal framework has been continuously improved, giving private enterprises and private entrepreneurs a "reassurance" of the rule of law.

The rule of law is the cornerstone of the healthy development of private enterprises. General Secretary Xi Jinping emphasized that "we must resolutely remove all obstacles to the equal use of production factors and fair participation in market competition in accordance with the law." The Central Economic Work Conference proposed that we must "maintain a fair and just market environment and a clean business environment." This has greatly boosted the confidence of private entrepreneurs. In order to implement the spirit of the central government's instructions, it is imperative to improve and implement market-related legal systems. The revision of the "Anti-Unfair Competition Law of the People's Republic of China" should be completed as soon as possible, and the Anti-Monopoly Law, Anti-Unfair Competition Law, Price Law and "National Unified Market Construction Guidelines (Trial)" and other laws and regulations should be strictly enforced to strengthen the rigid constraints of fair competition review and law enforcement supervision;

Market supervision departments should strengthen law enforcement supervision and compliance guidance in an orderly manner for key industries and fields, effectively strengthen accountability for major illegal acts of business entities, and light up the light of the rule of law for private enterprises to set sail.

Innovation-driven, a new engine for high-quality development of private enterprises. At present, a new round of scientific and technological revolution is reshaping the global economic landscape, and private enterprises have become an important force in cultivating new quality productivity. We must give full play to the important role of private enterprises in the transformation of scientific and technological achievements and industrial upgrading. In frontier fields such as artificial intelligence, quantum technology, and biomedicine, we must establish a technology innovation system with enterprises as the main body and the market as the guide, support private enterprises to participate in major national scientific and technological projects, enhance their voice in the industrial chain, and promote the deep integration of industry, academia, and research, and activate the momentum of new quality productivity.

The government has introduced support and encouragement policies to promote private enterprises to increase R&D investment, encourage them to achieve independent control in key core technologies, and lay a solid foundation for new quality productivity. In addition, it is necessary to promote the digital transformation of private enterprises, realize the integration of digital economy and real economy, optimize production processes, improve management efficiency, and promote the digital upgrade of industrial chain and supply chain through technologies such as big data and artificial intelligence, so as to expand the space of new quality productivity.

Going out to sea, from product output to ecological co-construction, private enterprises have entered a new stage of international competition. Under the guidance of the "Belt and Road" initiative, more and more private enterprises have gone abroad. Among the "new three" with strong exports, private enterprises contribute more than half. Among the world's top 500 companies, the number of private enterprises has increased from 28 in 2018 to 34. Whether it is the overseas layout of the manufacturing industry,

Whether it is the cross-border expansion of the service industry, private enterprises have demonstrated strong competitiveness. By participating in international competition, private enterprises can not only improve their own technical level and management capabilities, but also contribute to the development of national economic globalization. However, going overseas also faces many challenges. From cultural differences to policy barriers, from market risks to legal disputes, private enterprises need to continue to learn and adapt on the road to internationalization. In this regard, the government should strengthen relevant policy guidance and support to help private enterprises better cope with the uncertainties in international competition.

[softlymaximoff]

Head canons of Wanda Maximoff and new Avenger reader

18+ ONLY! MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

She absolutely terrified you. Her damn green eyes that looked like they were made out of sea glass were always watching. Most of the time they were cold or glaring and you never knew what the hell you did to be on the receiving end of it.

When cooking for the team became your job you just knew Wanda hated it. She’d barely touch the meals made, never said thanks and never offered to help. It was probably one of the most agonising parts of your week.

You, much to everyone’s surprise were also from Sokovia, or well, a small town just west of Wanda’s home country. Another thing she hated. First you come in as another failed test subject from some underground science freak lab, then become one of the team’s best additions and lastly, you were wanted.

Wanda never got the warm welcome, after the stunt she pulled all those years ago, she socially sabotaged herself. Without her brother, without her literal whole world, she was truly alone. Yes Natasha and Clint came up and checked on her every now and then but she knew it was only because Fury told them to.

You on the other hand, were the best thing the team’s seen since sliced bread. They had found you caught in a loop of ruthless behaviour after seeking you out for weeks, months even. Fist fighting men at the bar as they went to corner your mission agents, dealing with backend rivals who had done your institution wrong, targeting officials in a higher power conference from yards away. You were a spy with the ability to predict another’s internal thoughts.

Unlike Wanda however, you couldn’t show a person’s fear or control their mind. You were just a lurker in the back of someone’s dark twisted void of a thought system. You were a menace. Raised in a lab, released in a maze full of people from hell.

When they brought you in you were uncontrollable, snarky and feisty. But you weren’t a monster. You were just a vessel for the lab you escaped. REMUS was the name, Regimen, Effectus, Mactabilis, Ulciscor, Scientia. They had sedated you, Clint’s aim on his bow and arrow never ceased to amaze you.

That was 7 months ago. The team trained you to control your power and drive your combat and stealth skills to their respective teammates. Sparring with Bucky on combat drills, stealth recall practice with Nat and prediction drills with Clint and his arrows.

Wanda hated the special treatment you got. She loathed it. It made her feel even more of an outcast than she already was. Every time she’d see you with her teammates she’d scowl and put her walls up again. She never knew you saw her. You felt it. Her mind was the only one in the team you couldn’t weave your way into. No matter how hard you tried.

The only ever time her walls fell was when she’d heard your voice on a particular night you’d woken up from yet another nightmare. Your own internal battles were screaming at her to find you. Her heart hammered in her chest knowing she was the cause of this. She pushed her pride and anger down when your words became bitter and spiteful towards yourself.

That night she stood outside your door contemplating whether or not to go in but the final straw was when she’d heard your inner voice screaming for someone to make it stop. The sight of you curled up in a ball on the mattress on the floor hyperventilating made her own tears well up and she was by your side in an instant. To her surprise you didn’t even flinch, you just let her comfort you.

From then on, Wanda was nicer, a little less cold, and maybe even a little in love with you. She didn’t understand it, and neither did you. She came back to the tower one day when you and some of the crew were on a recon drill with fresh flowers from a local organic market near the compound. An array of Hibiscus, Lilly-of-the-Valley, purple Hyacinth, and a single Maidenhair Fern.

When you eventually came back from recon, Wanda’s flowers were at your room door, gentle red dust glowing around the bouquet like a whispered apology. Wanda never spoke to you much, but her actions had said all you needed to hear. You had finally found a friend in her. You were no longer a monster in her eyes, you were just you. And that’s all you could have asked for.

[bumbled-bees]

How Lily Draws In Her Audience

One of the more disturbing aspects of Lily’s influence is that she specifically attracts people who are vulnerable—people who have been abused, marginalized, or mistreated—and then weaponizes that against them.

For abuse survivors, especially those who are still healing, it’s easy to latch onto someone who speaks with absolute certainty. Lily presents herself as someone who’s been through it all, who knows what abuse looks like, who sees through manipulation—but in reality, she just demands blind loyalty and paints anyone who questions her as an abuser.

A few ways she traps people:

She presents herself as an authority on abuse. Since many of her fans are survivors, they naturally trust her judgment. But she exploits that by redefining abuse to suit her needs, convincing them that anyone who criticizes her must be an abuser.

She provides a "safe space"… that’s actually a trap. The more people invest in her community, the harder it is to leave. If they start questioning her, they risk losing their entire support system.

She feeds into their fears and trauma. Many of her fans have a deep fear of being manipulated again. Instead of helping them build healthy skepticism, she teaches them to see her enemies as manipulators while blindly trusting her.

She isolates people from outside perspectives. Any criticism of her is framed as “transphobia,” “abuse apologism,” or “bad faith.” This keeps people locked into her narrative because they fear being seen as bigots or enablers.

Lily also specifically appeals to neurodivergent and LGBT+ fans by framing herself as a champion for marginalized groups—someone who "tells it like it is" and "fights for the oppressed." But in reality, she weaponizes their experiences and struggles to keep them under her control.

How She Hooks Neurodivergent Fans

A lot of neurodivergent people, especially autistic folks, struggle with black-and-white thinking, difficulty navigating social nuance, and a strong sense of justice. Lily exploits these traits by:

Presenting herself as a voice of moral clarity. Many ND people prefer clear-cut rules over messy social politics. Lily gives them that by framing every situation as good vs. evil.

Encouraging "righteous" anger. Many ND people have been dismissed, gaslit, or ignored in real life. Lily taps into that frustration, making them feel validated—while directing their anger toward her enemies.

Punishing critical thinking. If someone questions her, she dismisses them as "brainwashed," "supporting abusers," or "part of the problem." Since ND people can already struggle with social cues, they may second-guess their own instincts and default to trusting her version of events.

Using a rigid rule system. Her community operates on a set of unspoken but harsh, inflexible rules. Break one, and you’re ostracized. Many ND people follow strict rules in social settings to avoid conflict, so they adapt to Lily’s without realizing they’re being manipulated.

How She Hooks LGBT+ Fans

Lily markets herself as an unapologetic trans woman who doesn’t care what cis people think. This attracts other trans and queer people, many of whom have faced discrimination and feel like they have to “play nice” in society. Lily offers them an alternative:

"You don’t have to be polite anymore." She encourages LGBT+ fans to be openly hostile to their critics. This is appealing to people who have been bullied, harassed, or discriminated against. But instead of healthy boundary-setting, Lily fosters a siege mentality—"you’re either with us or against us."

Weaponizing transphobia accusations. Any criticism of her, no matter how valid, is labeled transphobic. This makes her LGBT+ fans afraid to question her, because they don’t want to be seen as betraying another queer person.

Claiming she understands LGBT+ oppression better than anyone. She dismisses any queer person who criticizes her. She uses this as a way to delegitimize her LGBT+ critics—even though many of them respect her identity but simply disagree with her behavior.

Lily’s entire mode of operation hinges on controlling the narrative. She doesn’t present arguments—she declares facts and expects her audience to accept them without question. If you challenge her version of events, you aren’t just wrong in her eyes; you’re malicious, an enemy, a “stalker,” or a “bad faith actor.”

This is why she never provides evidence or proof for her claims. She doesn’t feel she needs to. Her authority as a figure in her community is enough for her followers. If Lily says something, then it’s true by default. Any contradictions or inconsistencies get hand-waved away because her fans trust her, not facts.

Her black-and-white mindset reinforces this. There is no room for nuance in her world. Either you support her fully or you’re against her completely. There’s no middle ground. This ensures that even when people start noticing inconsistencies, they’re unlikely to speak up for fear of being branded as part of the enemy camp. It’s easier to rationalize the contradictions than to risk being exiled.

This same strategy applies across all aspects of her behavior. She tells her fans Joon the King’s documentary is just drama and should be ignored—so they ignore it, despite the fact that it presents mountains of evidence.

This is why Lily thinks she can lie so freely. She assumes her audience won’t remember or care if she contradicts herself. And in many cases, she’s right. Because she’s conditioned them to trust her above all else.

[goodbyeyellowbrickcloset]

The Glass Closet: Taylor Swift, Chely Wright, Speculation, and the Industry That Keeps Artists in the Dark

For nearly two decades, Taylor Swift has orchestrated the art of reinvention—from a fresh-faced country prodigy to a global pop powerhouse, from America’s golden girl to a self-proclaimed anti-hero. Each era has been a transformation, each reinvention a shield. Yet, beneath the carefully curated personas, the shifting aesthetics, and the highly publicized relationships, one unspoken question lingers: Who is Taylor Swift, really?

The theory that Swift is queer and closeted—the heart of the “Gaylor” conversation—isn’t about unfounded gossip. It’s about the systems that shape an artist’s image, the forces that dictate what is and isn’t acceptable, and the very real cost of authenticity in an industry that thrives on marketability over truth.

To understand this, we have to look beyond Swift herself. We have to examine country music’s history of closeting artists like the fallout that followed Chely Wright’s coming out and the impossible balancing act Swift has performed for years.

This is a story about control, coded storytelling, and the glass closet Taylor Swift has spent her career trying to break free from—without ever shattering it completely. It's a story of paving the path for a brighter, louder, more colorful future because one thing is for sure...

SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY!

The Early Aughts + Country Music Stardom: A Foundation Built on Silence

Country music has long been one of the most traditionally conservative genres in the music industry. With a core audience rooted in Middle America values, the genre has historically upheld white, heterosexual, Christian narratives as the foundation of its storytelling.

Even in 2025, there are only a handful of openly queer country artists, and most of them struggle to receive mainstream recognition. Artists like Brandi Carlile, T.J. Osborne (Brothers Osborne), and Brandy Clark have helped pave the way, but country radio still hesitates to fully embrace LGBTQIA+ voices.

In this world, being an openly queer artist isn’t just risky—it’s career-ending.

And no one embodies that reality more than Chely Wright.

Chely Wright: A Warning from the Closet

In 2010, Chely Wright became the first mainstream country artist to come out as lesbian and it destroyed her career.

Wright was a hitmaker, with #1 songs and major industry recognition. She had everything an artist could want—until she told the truth.

Country radio blacklisted her.

Venues stopped booking her.

Her album sales tanked.

The industry that once celebrated her pretended she never existed.

Her story became a cautionary tale—a stark warning that country music does not embrace queer artists. It erases them.

By 2010, Taylor Swift was already a superstar. If she was questioning her sexuality—or even fully aware of it—she had already been placed in a carefully controlled box.

Unlike Wright, Swift’s departure from country music wasn’t an exile—it was an escape. But that escape wasn’t just about genre. It was about control. It was about building a world where she could reinvent herself while keeping parts of her identity just out of reach.

A Different Perspective: Chely Wright’s Discomfort with Speculation

When The New York Times published an essay on the Gaylor theory, I was surprised to find that Chely Wright herself expressed discomfort with the way Taylor Swift’s sexuality is discussed in public. Wright called the piece “awful” and “triggering”, criticizing the newspaper for engaging in speculation. Given that Chely’s story has long been a major point of discussion in the Gaylor community, her response was jarring. At first, it made me question whether using her experience as a lens for understanding Taylor’s career was appropriate.

But upon deeper reflection, her reaction makes sense. Chely Wright’s coming-out experience was deeply traumatic—she spent years hiding, lying, and carefully constructing a false image to survive in country music. And when she finally told the truth, her career collapsed overnight. For Wright, the mere act of publicly discussing another artist’s sexuality—whether as support or analysis—might feel like the same kind of external pressure she once faced.

However, there is an important distinction: The Gaylor conversation is not about forcing a label onto Taylor Swift. It’s about analyzing the subtext Swift has deliberately embedded in her work. If Taylor wasn’t queercoding her music, this conversation wouldn’t exist in the first place.

It’s also crucial to recognize that the industry forces that once silenced Wright are the same forces that shaped Swift’s career. While Wright may reject this discussion entirely, that doesn’t change the reality that Taylor’s work is filled with coded storytelling—suggesting she is navigating the same strict boundaries but in a different way.

Wright’s response to the op-ed highlights a larger cultural question: Why does queerness still have to be treated as a secret, while speculation about straight relationships is encouraged?

Why Is Speculating About Queerness Seen as Different?

One of the biggest criticisms of the Gaylor theory is that it’s “invasive” to speculate about Taylor Swift’s sexuality. But where is the line between analyzing queer themes in her work and being inappropriate? Why do Swifties who push back against this theory have no problem speculating about her relationships with men?

This is where the double standard comes into play.

Taylor Swift fans have spent years digging into her personal life—analyzing lyrics, finding Easter eggs, and debating which songs are about which boyfriend. Entire media cycles have been built on this:

Is "All Too Well" about Jake Gyllenhaal?

Is she secretly engaged? Was she secretly married?

Was "You Belong With Me" about Joe Jonas?

These questions are not only accepted— they're expected.

But when Gaylors apply the same level of analysis through a queer lens, suddenly, it’s labeled “invasive” and “harmful.” The message is clear: It’s only okay to speculate if the answer is straight.

To me, this is an outdated view to force straightness onto someone while also claiming that sexuality is a spectrum. Given Taylor’s layered storytelling, it feels necessary to allow her to exist on that spectrum—where maybe some of her stories are not what they seem.

As we know, Taylor Swift spent the early years of her career operating under the rigid gender norms of country music, a world where women were expected to sing about heterosexual romance, faith, family, and small-town nostalgia. But as her success grew, so did her desire for creative control—and possibly, her need to carve out a space where she could express herself more authentically, even if only in coded ways.

Her transition to pop wasn’t just about breaking genre boundaries—it was about escaping Nashville’s conservative grip and stepping into a world where reinvention, subtext, and ambiguity could thrive. And she made that clear from the very first song on 1989.

“Welcome to New York”: Taylor’s Break from Nashville & Living In Screaming Color

"You can want who you want / Boys and boys and girls and girls."

This wasn’t just a throwaway lyric. It was the loudest queer-coded statement she had ever made—and it opened the album that marked her escape from country music’s restrictions.

This is also the era that she gave us New Romantics and Out of the Woods with lyrics like, "The rest of the world was black and white but we were in screaming color."

Many Gaylors believe that Red (2012) was already a queer-coded album, with songs about a secret relationship—possibly with Dianna Agron—hidden behind PR relationships with men. But in 2014, she took it a step further:

She stopped centering men in her music.

She built a “girl squad” narrative that celebrated female friendships—but felt, at times, like something more.

She became more private—hiding her personal life while crafting an ultra-public, ultra-marketable persona.

If Red was about testing boundaries, 1989 was about reinvention as a shield. From this moment forward, Taylor would never again present her personal life without layers of control.

Reinvention as Survival: The Dual Taylors

Swift has reinvented herself with every era, but this reinvention isn’t just about artistic evolution—it’s been a survival mechanism.

She constantly presents two versions of herself—the one the public sees, and the one hidden beneath the surface.

This is the essence of the glass closet—where an artist can leave clues, drop hints, and tell the truth without ever being forced to say it outright.

Why Taylor Swift’s Closet Is Different

Unlike Chely Wright, Swift never had to lose her career over her sexuality—but that’s because she never let it become the story in the first place. The longer she hints, codes, and subtextually confesses, the veil gets thinner.

When she says “ME! out now” on Lesbian Visibility Day, people still think it’s a coincidence. When she plays "Maroon" on Karlie's birthday, it doesn't mean anything. Somehow, even when a song with such an obvious rhyme scheme as "The Very First Night" all but hits you over the head alluding to a female pronoun in a love song, Swifties turn the other cheek and deny the obvious.

She has spent 20 years writing about love—but to the general public, that love has only been for men. For those who see through the lines, she has been communicating her real experience the entire time.

Swift’s public relationships always seem to appear when speculation about her queerness reaches a peak. The Summer of Lover 2019? Joe Alwyn’s presence is reinforced. The Midnights era? Enter Matty Healy, a quick PR cycle that fizzled just as fast as it began. And now, in 2024, with The Tortured Poets Department drenched in queer themes? Travis Kelce is front and center. Whether these relationships are real, exaggerated, or entirely contractual, they always serve a purpose—to keep the glass closet from completely shattering.

The Power of Subtext in the Mainstream

In many ways, Taylor has done something radical—she’s embedded queerness into mainstream pop culture in a way that allows it to exist without being outright rejected.

Before her, queerness in the industry was often either completely hidden or presented in a hypersexualized, rebellious way that still played into the male gaze (see: Madonna and Britney’s VMAs kiss, Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl”).

Taylor’s approach is different. Her queerness isn’t a spectacle—it’s woven into love songs, metaphors, and heartbreak anthems, allowing it to be as deeply felt and widely consumed as straight narratives.

For younger artists, this has cracked open the door.

Queer Artists Who Have Benefited from the Shift

Artists who emerged in the post-Taylor pop landscape now have far more room to exist as their authentic selves. Many don’t have to code their queerness the way Taylor does, and that’s partially because her queer-coding forced the industry to acknowledge that queer narratives could be commercially successful.

Examples of artists who have benefited from this shift include:

Kelsea Ballerini – A country-pop artist and close friend of Taylor Swift, Kelsea has been a vocal LGBTQIA+ ally, advocating for inclusivity in a traditionally conservative genre. While not publicly queer, her embrace of queer narratives and shift toward pop mirrors Swift’s own path, signaling a slow but growing evolution in country music.

Girl in Red – Explicitly queer in both image and lyricism, yet embraced by the same industry that would have never allowed Taylor to be this open in 2006.

MUNA – An openly queer pop band that has been able to build mainstream success without needing to obscure their identities.

Billie Eilish – After coming out as queer in 2023, Billie has embraced her identity without industry pushback, reflecting the shifting landscape Taylor helped shape. Her openness marks a new era where pop stars no longer need to rely on subtext or plausible deniability to exist authentically.

Chappell Roan – The most recent example of a queer artist who is making waves in the pop scene—heavily inspired by the theatrical elements of Taylor Swift’s songwriting and world-building.

Would any of these artists have been able to flourish in the mainstream ten years ago? Unlikely. Taylor’s massive, industry-defining career—and the queer interpretations of her work that have never been shut down entirely—helped normalize the idea that queerness doesn’t have to be a commercial risk.

The Unfinished Revolution: Taylor’s Influence on the Future of Queer Storytelling

Taylor Swift’s position in pop culture is unique—she is arguably the most famous person in the world, yet her true identity remains one of the most debated subjects in modern music.

This paradox—existing in a glass closet while simultaneously paving the way for others to live openly—is what makes her influence so undeniable.

Taylor Swift may never fully break out of the closet herself—but she has already blown the door open for others to walk through.

She has spent two decades bending the rules of the industry, proving that queer-coded storytelling is not just marketable but deeply resonant. The next generation of artists doesn’t have to bend the way she did—they can step into the spotlight and tell their stories without hiding behind mirrors and metaphors.

Taylor may be trapped in the glass closet, but the industry she reshaped will never be able to shut the door again.

LONG LIVE THE WALLS WE CRASHED THROUGH!

[globalnewscollective]

Trump and Musk Are Pushing the U.S. Toward a Shutdown—Here’s What That Means for You

Once again, the U.S. is on the brink of a government shutdown. But this time, it’s not just political infighting—tech billionaire Elon Musk is playing a role, too. By leveraging his influence and platform, Musk has joined forces with Donald Trump to push for chaos, blocking a budget plan that would keep the government running.

What’s Happening?

A government shutdown occurs when Congress fails to pass a budget. Without funding, federal agencies shut down, leaving millions of workers unpaid and essential services suspended. Trump has been pressuring Republicans to reject the current spending plan, while Musk has amplified right-wing voices that oppose it, turning a routine budget negotiation into a high-stakes political crisis.

How This Affects You

A government shutdown doesn’t just impact politicians—it hits everyday Americans hard. Here’s what you need to know:

Federal Workers & Military Personnel: Over 4 million federal employees, including service members, could be forced to work without pay or be furloughed entirely. Many live paycheck to paycheck and would struggle to cover rent, utilities, or groceries.

Social Security & Medicare: While benefits continue, customer service lines and claims processing could be severely delayed, making it harder for seniors and disabled individuals to access their payments or healthcare services.

Food Assistance Programs: Families relying on the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) could see delays in benefits, and funding for food banks may dry up, exacerbating food insecurity.

National Parks, Museums, and Public Services: Expect closures of national parks, Smithsonian museums, and other federally funded sites. This affects not only visitors but also the small businesses that rely on tourism revenue.

Air Travel Disruptions: TSA agents and air traffic controllers will be required to work without pay, increasing the risk of flight delays and staff shortages that could create chaos at airports.

Housing & Small Business Loans: FHA-backed home loans could be delayed, making it harder for people to buy homes. Small businesses relying on federal grants or loans may also face significant funding gaps.

Economic Instability: The uncertainty and disruption from a shutdown can rattle financial markets, leading to job losses, increased inflation, and setbacks for businesses large and small.

Why Are Trump and Musk Doing This?

The Democrats argue that the budget proposal favored by Trump is nothing more than a disguised tax cut that would primarily benefit the ultra-wealthy—people like Musk. Additionally, they refuse to support a plan that would burden the U.S. with trillions of dollars in additional debt. Notably, alongside the Democrats, 38 Republican members of Congress also voted against Trump’s proposal.

The Bigger Picture

This isn’t just a budget dispute. It’s an alarming sign of how billionaires and political extremists can manipulate the system for their own gain. When an unelected tech mogul like Musk and a former president under multiple indictments can grind the government to a halt, it raises serious concerns about power, accountability, and the future of democracy.

What Can You Do?

Stay informed and share credible news sources.

Contact your representatives and demand they stand up to political obstruction.

Support journalism that holds those in power accountable.

Most importantly: Vote. A government shutdown is a preview of the dysfunction that could become permanent if Trump and his allies regain full control.

This is bigger than one political battle—it’s a fight for the stability of the country. And the outcome depends on all of us.

Source:

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/us-senate-democrats-debate-path-forward-government-funding-bill-2025-03-12/

[queenie435]

THE WORLD'S FIRST ELECTRIC ROLLER COASTER

Granville T. Woods (April 23, 1856 – January 30, 1910) introduced the “Figure Eight,” the world's first electric roller coaster, in 1892 at Coney Island Amusement Park in New York. Woods patented the invention in 1893, and in 1901, he sold it to General Electric.

Woods was an American inventor who held more than 50 patents in the United States. He was the first African American mechanical and electrical engineer after the Civil War. Self-taught, he concentrated most of his work on trains and streetcars.

In 1884, Woods received his first patent, for a steam boiler furnace, and in 1885, Woods patented an apparatus that was a combination of a telephone and a telegraph. The device, which he called "telegraphony", would allow a telegraph station to send voice and telegraph messages through Morse code over a single wire. He sold the rights to this device to the American Bell Telephone Company.

In 1887, he patented the Synchronous Multiplex Railway Telegraph, which allowed communications between train stations from moving trains by creating a magnetic field around a coiled wire under the train. Woods caught smallpox prior to patenting the technology, and Lucius Phelps patented it in 1884. In 1887, Woods used notes, sketches, and a working model of the invention to secure the patent. The invention was so successful that Woods began the Woods Electric Company in Cincinnati, Ohio, to market and sell his patents. However, the company quickly became devoted to invention creation until it was dissolved in 1893.

Woods often had difficulties in enjoying his success as other inventors made claims to his devices. Thomas Edison later filed a claim to the ownership of this patent, stating that he had first created a similar telegraph and that he was entitled to the patent for the device. Woods was twice successful in defending himself, proving that there were no other devices upon which he could have depended or relied upon to make his device. After Thomas Edison's second defeat, he decided to offer Granville Woods a position with the Edison Company, but Woods declined.

In 1888, Woods manufactured a system of overhead electric conducting lines for railroads modeled after the system pioneered by Charles van Depoele, a famed inventor who had by then installed his electric railway system in thirteen United States cities.

Following the Great Blizzard of 1888, New York City Mayor Hugh J. Grant declared that all wires, many of which powered the above-ground rail system, had to be removed and buried, emphasizing the need for an underground system. Woods's patent built upon previous third rail systems, which were used for light rails, and increased the power for use on underground trains. His system relied on wire brushes to make connections with metallic terminal heads without exposing wires by installing electrical contactor rails. Once the train car had passed over, the wires were no longer live, reducing the risk of injury. It was successfully tested in February 1892 in Coney Island on the Figure Eight Roller Coaster.

In 1896, Woods created a system for controlling electrical lights in theaters, known as the "safety dimmer", which was economical, safe, and efficient, saving 40% of electricity use.

Woods is also sometimes credited with the invention of the air brake for trains in 1904; however, George Westinghouse patented the air brake almost 40 years prior, making Woods's contribution an improvement to the invention.

Woods died of a cerebral hemorrhage at Harlem Hospital in New York City on January 30, 1910, having sold a number of his devices to such companies as Westinghouse, General Electric, and American Engineering. Until 1975, his resting place was an unmarked grave, but historian M.A. Harris helped raise funds, persuading several of the corporations that used Woods's inventions to donate money to purchase a headstone. It was erected at St. Michael's Cemetery in Elmhurst, Queens.

LEGACY

▪Baltimore City Community College established the Granville T. Woods scholarship in memory of the inventor.

▪In 2004, the New York City Transit Authority organized an exhibition on Woods that utilized bus and train depots and an issue of four million MetroCards commemorating the inventor's achievements in pioneering the third rail.

▪In 2006, Woods was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.

▪In April 2008, the corner of Stillwell and Mermaid Avenues in Coney Island was named Granville T. Woods Way.

[what-even-is-thiss]

You post a decent amount about the various elder scrolls games. (Respected)

As someone who has never played them but loves rpgs and has always wanted to get into this series, which game would you suggest for a starting point?

I think it depends on your personal preferences. I’ll just give you my opinions about why you might like each one and let you decide. Very very long infodump incoming.

The early two games, Arena and Daggerfall, are really hard to use if you’re used to modern controls and might not work on modern operating systems well. However, if you’re one of those people who’s really into 90s computer dungeon crawlers that require reading a textbook length manual you’ll probably like them. They take a lot of inspiration from dnd and constantly use invisible dice rolls when it comes to stuff like damage and hit chance and you’ve gotta be careful about building your character. I’d suggest looking up a guide, even.

These games have a campy sexy pixelated dungeons and dragons feel to them. Plot isn’t super important in these games but Arena’s plot revolves around gathering the parts of a broken staff to defeat a wizard. Daggerfall’s plot has more to do with political intrigue and deciding which faction you think is better. Neither of these games have much of a plot when it comes to guilds and factions. Daggerfall does have randomly generated guild quests you can do but there’s almost no plot to them.

Morrowind is far more user friendly but it’s still kinda hard to grasp if you’re more used to modern games. There’s a dice roll mechanic on attacks and if you don’t build your character correctly you’re sort of screwed. You can learn to get good at the game though and it has a pretty compelling story in my opinion. This is the one right before they started doing full voice acting so it involves quite a bit of reading. There’s also no fast travel. You need to pay for transportation in universe with currency. There’s also no quest markets and you need to follow directions given to you by NPCs. Some people like that though.

The vibe of Morrowind is like very overcast and foggy and muggy. Kind of European inspired, kind of Asian inspired. There’s giant insects and a lot of ash everywhere from volcano storms. They do a lot with what few polygons they have. The plot has to do with a prophecy that you’re caught up in and the political implications of it. Morrowind is ruled by a trio of living gods and you are the one prophesied to bring their downfall. Guild quests have way more of a plot than Daggerfall in that they sort of have a plot but they tend to be pretty formulaic. My favorite of the bunch is probably the thieves guild because you get to sort of cosplay as Robinhood for a bit due to a plot point that barely makes sense. The DLC for this game is a treat. You get a big city and a snowy island to explore. There’s werewolves and goblins and a weird drug addict.

Oblivion is my personal favorite and it’s the goofiest elder scrolls game by far. The ragdolls are hilarious and the NPCs are programmed to have randomly generated conversations with each other throughout the day which are sometimes interesting but usually don’t make sense. The random chance mechanics are gone but stats like strength and the importance of building your character correctly are still there. Oblivion is still a bit outdated but it’s more user friendly than Morrowind. It also retains some customizable elements like multiple enchanting pieces and spell making from the old games without being so huge as to be overwhelming. The thing people often don’t like about oblivion is the level scaling of enemies and the graphics. Personally I think the graphics are charming but some folks don’t like the potato face low polygon look that everybody has. And as for the level scaling, well, unless you wanna look up in depth how to level optimally, probably just don’t level past level 20 on your first playthrough and don’t worry about it too hard. Maybe use some skills that aren’t in your major skills sometimes. Turn the difficulty down if you need to. You’ll be fine. It’s not that complicated but also don’t be a hero. Turn the difficulty down if you need to.

Oblivion has like a Mediterranean vibe. It’s bright and colorful and is sort of stylized like you’ve stepped into a landscape painting. It’s like a late medieval Italian countryside with some ominous Roman ruins hanging around. Cyrodiil is also a very diverse Provence in universe with it being centrally located and also the seat of power for the empire. It probably has the most diversity in types of NPCs of any other game in the series because of this. The main plot starts with you witnessing the emperor being assassinated as he’s escaping through your prison cell and you need to go find his one surviving son but as you go to find him, portals to oblivion, which is sort of like Hell but also not, start opening up all over the place and you need to start working with the new emperor to figure out how to close the oblivion gates and stop an invasion of the material plane.

The guild quests in oblivion are where faction quests actually get good. This is also the only game in the series where you can fight to death in a gladiator arena despite that concept being what set off the idea for the entire series. The dark brotherhood assassins guild is one of the best in the whole series and in the mages guild questline you get to fight a secret cult of necromancers. The DLC is also quite fun. Meet the god of madness and fight a demon in the sky.

So, Skyrim. Skyrim is most people’s introduction for the series and for good reason. It drops some of the RPG elements and customization from the previous games but it’s by far the most user friendly. You can use both hands, there’s a unique shouts and powers mechanic, you can be a werewolf, the leveling system is way improved from previous games (no more having to plan out your character), you can fight dragons, and although the elder scrolls series has always been about wandering the world and getting distracted, Skyrim perfects this aspect of it. The world is somehow simultaneously vast and dense which is an incredible feat. You will get distracted and that’s the whole point.

The vibe of Skyrim is far north. Scandinavia at its harshest. It’s got dense forests, tundras, steep cliffs, rivers, and snow. It’s a land of myths that are not only real but lying in wait to tear you limb from limb. It’s also gorgeous. You can wander around and watch the moons rise, watch an aurora borealis, see unique styles of architecture in each city, look at wood and stone carvings. The ghosts feel both ethereal and solid. The world is worn and comfortably lived in. A blunt instrument as well as a sharp object.

The plot of Skyrim is that there’s a civil war going on. Choosing between staying with the empire or becoming independent. However, just as it looks like the war is about to end and the rebel leaders are about to be beheaded, a dragon shows up for the first time in thousands of years. You’re a prisoner that manages to escape in the chaos and you get caught up in discovering the reason the dragons are coming back and you can pick sides (or not) in the escalating civil war. The guild and faction quests in Skyrim are decent. There’s werewolves, menacing orbs, holy keys. The DLC is where Skyrim’s side adventures really shine though in my opinion. Evil Dragonborns, vampire hunters, trekking through oblivion and the afterlife, discovering lost civilizations. Skyrim’s DLCs also have some of the best characters in the series.

So. Sorry for info dumping that much lol. Hope some of that information is useful. If you just want an easy starting point, pick oblivion or Skyrim. If you want a more customizable start point with a bigger initial learning curve, start with Morrowind. If you like fighting with early 90s computer games you might be the type to prefer arena or Daggerfall.

I really hope you enjoy the series! It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world if you couldn’t tell by my adhd rambling lol

[unsolicited-opinions]

Amplifying Palestinian Voices

5/28/25

Hamza Howidy

Osama Hamdan, one of Hamas’s senior political leaders based in Lebanon, stood in front of cameras and said: *“We expect our great people to thwart the method of receiving aid today, just as they thwarted it yesterday. We trust that our people will endure hunger and not extend their hands to the occupier asking for aid.”* A man who hasn’t spent a single day under siege, who hasn’t lost electricity, water, or a child under rubble—preaches hunger as a virtue to a population shattered by war, displacement, and collapse. Hamdan speaks from a safe distance, while the people of Gaza live through the aftermath of a destroyed economy, famine-like conditions, and total institutional breakdown. This is the same leadership that looted Gaza’s food convoys, diverted international aid to its own networks, and then resold it at extortionate prices on the black market. While civilians lined up for hours just to receive a bag of flour, Hamas operatives enriched themselves. While hospitals ran dry and children died from dehydration, salaries continued flowing to the movement’s armed wing. Hamas didn’t just mismanage the aid system—they weaponized it. They created scarcity, controlled distribution through loyalty networks, and turned food into a reward for obedience. When people found alternative ways to eat—airdrops, private channels, independent convoys—Hamas responded not with solutions, but with threats and bullets. Dozens have been shot for trying to get flour without permission. And now, as a new international mechanism attempts to bypass their grip, their panic is disguised as principle. Hamdan’s words aren’t a rejection of occupation. They are a rejection of any aid they don’t personally oversee, tax, and exploit. His fear isn’t that the people are humiliated—it’s that they might no longer need him. There is no moral high ground here. Just a terrified, corrupt elite watching their control unravel. And once again, they’re ready to let their people starve for the sake of holding onto what’s left.

[keehomania]

dark side — rcm (18+)

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

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“the jedi are protecting her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what are you doing?” you shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“because of obi-wan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

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

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Seven - Comms System Errors

Part Twenty Six

———

Mecha were designed to resemble humans, not initially, as the original designs were much more utilitarian such as suit eleven, but as they evolved the people behind the designs were alerted to an opportunity. Merchandising.  

It was meant to make them less threatening to the public, to be seen as the protectors of the planet rather than the destroyers fighting the aliens from above. There was also the obvious benefit to the companies who marketed the mech suits in various merchandise. Not around the human pilots, but the suits themselves.

Everything from children’s toys to clothing and everything in between. These massive heroes were easy enough to market and helped the children of the world feel less frightened, at least for a time.

Now that they have to watch some of the longest running suits fall apart from their tv’s while they hide under their school desks, they may start to think otherwise. 

—

All the mecha around him were trying to recover the pieces of what had been their campsite, while he was stuck being looked over by Flatline, who wasn’t terrifying or anything, not at all. 

The flashlight inbedded in the mech’s wrist flashed straight into one of his cameras, making Sunstreaker wince and try to shield his eyes, “God,” “Apologizes.” He was so screwed, whether it was Hound shouting at him, Sideswipe worrying over him, or Breakdown talking about frightening the locals it wasn’t going to be fun to deal with this.

Bluestreak was still worrying next to him staring very intently at his broken face, or well, the shattered glass of his mech’s visor. Most of the helm of his suit was full of the sensory equipment that provided the needed output to control the mech, a shattered visor wouldn’t cause any harm unless it hit one of his cameras. 

But Sunny couldn’t really explain that given the current circumstances, everytime he tried to shut off his external microphone to comm Blue privately Flatline would ask him a question or re-direct him somehow, “Alright, look this way.” Sighing deeply, Sunny followed the direction, turning a bit, grumbling.

It was bad enough that everyone was looking at him, now he was having to go through this circus, “Honestly, I am fine. It doesn’t hurt and I can see, it’s just something I’ll have to get repaired.” Flatline tutted and Bluestreak made a strangled noise, so Sunstreaker stayed put.

Most of everyone was picking up the remains of heaters and the burst supply crates in the distance, Bluestreak was on Sunstreaker duty while Ironhide was speaking with command in the distance. 

—

“To be fair, he handled the Quintessons beautifully. It’s just that he moved into Bluestreak’s second shot.” Ironhide was rubbing his neck, frowning a bit at the screen as Optimus frowned and Megatron’s line whistled lightly from the sand storm, “Are you positive that is what he said though?” Optimus’s voice sounded worried and Ironhide sighed deeply, “Yes, I’m sure.” He glanced over his shoulder to the strange mech.

With a vent, Optimus shakes his head sadly, “We continue to find disturbing things of their kind.” Megatron grunts, “Their plating being stamped with property labels and now lack of pain receptors in key areas, no wonder all Breakdown needed was the limb reattached and some rest.” Ironhide nodded and rocked back on his peds, “Their good mecha that are taking the worst from their kind to save it, were we any different?” Optimus offered a small smile even with Megatron’s angered grunt.

Glancing back to Sunstreaker, Ironhide shakes his head a bit, “It must have been part of that testing they did to become those so called pilots.” Then Megatron broke in, “Testing? They speak of it as if it were torture that they endured for the betterment of their kind. I would not call it testing.” His tone had a bite that almost made ironhide roll his eyes, “We are not waging war for equality on their planet Megatron.” Optimus sounded stern though not entirely convincing.

”If you two are going to flirt by talking about a class war I’m ending this conversation.” Ironhide crossed his arms, scowling at the screen and listening to the long moment of silence, nodding for a moment, “Thank you. So, how’s Hound?” With a hum, Megatron rubs his comm lightly, disrupting the light whistling, “He seems fine enough, Knockout is deeply concerned but Hound claims to be able to handle the issue.” Optimus nodded slowly, before frowning, “What issue?”

Megatron winced, “Ah, right. The rust smell, it’s how we found his stamped plating.” Both Optimus and Ironhide shivered, “Wonderful, now they are smelling of rust.” Rubbing a hand down his faceplate, Ironhide shakes his head, “They reek of rust, can swim in salt water without issue, take damage from our weapons which are not supposed to harm living metal, what else?” Megatron sighs deeply, “They are also seducing our best soldiers.” Ironhide grunted.

Even with burning face plates, Optimus clears his vocalizer, “I would not call what they are doing a seduction.” Megatron chuckles, “Maybe you wouldn’t, but the results speak for themselves.” Optimus makes a weak noise and Ironhide laughs, “Yeah, Bluestreak has yet to leave Sunstreaker’s side. Though I feel those two are significantly closer to the outcome like Jazz and Prowl then Mirage and Hound are or even Knockout and Breakdown are.” Megatron scoffs, “I severely doubt that.” Ironhide smirks.

”You’re just mad that you’re losing. Smokescreen told you it was a long shot, then again you always seem to go for those.” Optimus vented deeply, “Ironhide, now is not the time.” He nodded, “Apologies Prime, I should get back to clear up and comm Skyfire again.” He stands back for a moment before disconnecting his side of the comm. 

Megatron and Optimus were left on the line, staying quiet for a moment, “I take it now could be an appropriate to flirt over a class war?” Optimus’s face burned, “Megatron, you are caught in a sand storm.” He could feel the mechs smirk, “With nothing to do but wait it out.” Shaking his helm, Optimus clears his throat, “I am 82% sure Red Alert is listening and 98% sure Soundwave is.” At which point both mechs got pings, reading the simple line of ‘Switch to personal comm line if this is to be the topic of conversation.’ And Megatron howled with laughter as Optimus’ tried to melt into the floor. 

A moment later they both switched to their personal comms. 

—

Once Flatline left him alone, though on the order to rest, Sunstreaker had disconnected from the chair and gotten on comm with Bluestreak, “I really am okay Blue. See? Not a scratch on me.” Sunny turns lightly, still wearing most of his assistance suit even as he moves over towards his cot.

Bluestreak worries his derma, watching Sunny through his internal comms, “Sunny, I could have killed you if that shot had been lower.” Sunstreaker rolls his eyes, sitting down and removing his assistance suit in pieces, “Oh please, you are the best shot I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen some pretty great soldiers. Your first shot hit the Quintesson and I moved into the second one. It happens.” He stretches, back popping painfully.

He couldn’t help but shake his head, “No, not to me and not to us. I, I didn’t know it would hurt you.” Sunstreaker sighed deeply, “It shattered the tempered glass of my mechs face shield, it’s a common broken part back home. It knocked out a camera or two, these things just happen. Glass breaks.” Reaching under his cot, he pulls out a water pouch along with some of the dried greens Jazz was trying to make, it supposedly tasted like beef jerky though Sunny was not convinced.

Still watching. Bluestreak moves over and sits next to Sunstreaker’s prone suit, taking the mech suits hand carefully, “I don’t know how you can stand it, knowing your death is so imminent.” Sunstreaker stopped, sticky greens stuck to his teeth and nearly caused him to gag.

Pulling the so-called food away from his teeth, Sunny grabbed his case from Earth to dig out a protein bar instead, “The life of a pilot is dangerous, but the integration of our gear decreases our life span by a lot. Even if I stopped being a pilot tomorrow, I’d have at most another twenty years.” He shrugged and tried to wash out his mouth, cursing, “God that’s awful.” He cleared his throat painfully.

Sighing, he looked towards his camera, trying to offer a smile, “I’d rather go out fighting tomorrow then struggling to breath twenty years from now, in some bed rotting. Believe me Blue, I’m content with how things are and everything we’re doing right now is saving lives. Knowing that is enough.” Bluestreak was on the verge of tears, optics dark to hide it.

”I wish you’d never have let your kind do these things to you, you deserve far better than this.” Sunstreaker grinned, “Nah, I don’t, but it’s nice that you think so.” He shrugs a bit and starts eating the protein bar, “So tell me about these special weapons that can’t kill your kind.” Nodding a bit, Bluestreak wipes his optics and leans back, “Well, we just found peace before this war started. We didn’t want to kill each other anymore.” Sunny smiles and listens while he eats. 

—

The sun was finally starting to rise and Hound was asleep, but so was Mirage. Features soft and protected by Hound overtop of him. To be fair, had the storm cleared up yet there would be a significant amount of visual captures for blackmail but no one could see more than a few inches in front of their optics yet.

Hound woke up in a lot of pain, body stiff and uncomfortable, lying long ways across the seat with his knees bent over the arm and back against the other arm, “God that was a mistake,” he stretched painfully before scooping up his helmet and pulling it on. Reactivating his visual feed and frowning as the sand was still blowing across his cameras. 

“Well shit.” He was stuck, holding Mirage’s head out of the sand and knew that once the sand cleared people would be looking for them. In the moment it had seemed like a good idea and now he knew that it was a compromising position no matter what species you were. Sighing slowly, his face burns, adjusting his helmet and getting plugged back into the suit. 

His visor shines bright for a moment and Mirage’s optics online, “Oh Primus,” Hound winces, “Sorry.” He adjusts his microphone and fixes his helmet before taking the controls again, shifting his weight to be on his knees instead of his elbows, the suit sinking in the sand. 

Mirage’s optics cycle a few times, staring through the blowing sand, “Ah, I didn’t mean to fall into recharge.” Hound smiles a bit, face still warm with blush, “Yeah, neither did I, but I think the storm is starting to let up.” With a hum, he knew Mirage was checking his comms, “Yes, Megatron thinks so too. Once it’s clear he wants to speak with us in command.” Nodding a bit, Hound tries to glance up and around, sand blowing everywhere.

They laid there in silence, listening to the wind howl and sand blow every which direction. As the sun rose it was finally starting to clear and the howling started to die down.

Though that’s when the sirens reached their ears and audials, Hound was looking up and around, pulled away from Mirage though keeping a hand on the mech's shoulder. It wasn’t clear enough for his cameras but clearly it was clear enough for optics around them, mecha jumping up or diving for their weapons. Mirage and Hound shared a glance before getting up, running for command.

A large ship overhead and actively scanning the landscape, moving closer and closer to New Kaon. 

—

The damn comm was still pinging on the wall but Sideswipe had gotten his suit repaired enough to climb into it and go over to answer it. 

He bite his tongue for a moment, then answered, “This is Sideswipe,” He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the sarcastic shit he would say back home, “Sideswipe, just the mech I had been trying to comm for most of the day. Why have you not reported to my mandatory training?” 

He scratched at his face lightly, “Sorry, who is this?” The sigh was deep on the other end of the line, “Elita-One, now, unless I get word from Prowl or Optimus Prime that you are unable to show up, I expect you here five klicks ago. Am I clear?” Sideswipe stared at the comm, glanced around the apartment before smiling a bit, “Be right there.” Before he hung up. 

It took him a bit to get back out of the suit and leave a note for Breakdown, but he was back out the door soon enough. Smiling as he went, not even remotely prepared for training but desperate to leave the metal box. 

—

Command was in chaos, Megatron on comms with his commanders in the city and ordering those who could go underground to go down and those who couldn’t out of the city at the very least.

It was loud, painfully loud but Hound couldn’t turn down his audio receptors any further without seeming deaf to those around him. When the pair of them got into command, Megatron whipped around fast, “Mirage, I need you to take up defensive position six, Hound you’re with me.” Hound glanced at Mirage and watched the mech disappear in front of his eyes before looking back to Megatron, “How did they get here so fast?” Megatron shook his head, “I don’t know.”

Moving across the room, Hound goes up to the projection table and the live projection they got, their current position compared to the enemy. He stared for a long moment, “We need to get them lower if we want to stand a chance without all the seekers.” Megatron hummed, going back to his comm.

Hound worried his lip, tilting his head, watching the ship grow closer, “Fuck.” He watched for a moment longer, looking at Megatron and then outside to the rushing soldiers, “Sir, my orders?” Waving a hand lightly, “You are to remain here, they are to far and high up for you to be much help Hound,” Megatron turned back around and stopped. 

Humans would always be humans, he might have asked for his orders but it was painfully obvious what they were. It wasn’t what he was willing to accept, not after the compromises he’d made. So by the time Megatron had turned back around, he was out the door and half way across what would be the battlefield, assembling his gun with a new practiced ease. 

There wasn’t time to wait around for the right moment and Hound had faced worse odds before. Slamming into a rock formation, he crouches and adjusted his rifle, fixating the scope on it before turning.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, staring at a wide eyed Mirage. Cracking a smile, Hound chuckles, “Come here often?” Mirage smiled a bit, “Can’t say I have.” Turning back, Hound leans forward and adjusts his visual feed to look down the scope, scanning the ship, “Megatron might start yelling for me, ignore it.” Chuckling, Mirage shakes his head.

It wasn’t a ship he’d seen before, not on Earth or Cybertron, not even on any of their neighboring planets. This was something different, something larger, but he could guess why. New Kaon was a very practical jumping point to reach Cybertron just this part of space.

As well as if they took the city, it could give them needed information on how the planet’s buildings or security worked. It’s the same reason why so many costal towns on Earth had been flattened. Rather them be flat and gone then the enemy potentially learn how to reach everything else.

Hound watched, waiting with baited breath before seeing it. A puff of heated air from the ship, then fired on it. A spray of energy blasts struck that part of the ship and a loud explosion rocked it in the air. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “That’s their engine. Quints will bail before they crash.” Mirage swore loudly as they started doing just that. 

They had seen battlefields of Quintessons, it was the new normal while dealing with the Cybertronian attacks, it had become clear they were still fighting mostly scouts on Earth. Here they were fighting ones ready for combat, they honestly wasn't that different. Still simple enough to eviscerate and destroy, but there were a lot more of them to deal with. 

Dozens of them bailed from their battle bay, falling towards the surface where even if they made an impact they’d just get back up.

Taking slow deep breaths, Hound grabbed some water and what little food was close to hand, disabling part of his suit to get these down. His comm was silent for the moment, muted so that he wouldn’t have to listen to Megatron yelling at him to retreat. 

Mirage was starting to fire on the enemy, rifle booming with each trigger pull, ion rifle painfully loud. Hound leaned back against the rocks, nearly choking on the chunks of space planet and water. Not having the time to deal with them, tossing them both across his cockpit before reactivating his equipment. 

It was one breath, to disable the rifle in his arms back into a handheld blaster before he was up and over the rock formation. A few mechs were already fighting in the distance and it was time to join them. For a moment, he contemplated turning on his comm. Flicking the switch to activate it all it did was screech in his ear.

Hound couldn’t be sure if that was interference or someone’s voice, but now was not the time for distractions. Turning it back off, he connected with a single private come to Mirage, “Watch my six.” He was pushing his mech hard, body painful and skin burning, “I’ve got you Hound, handle business.” He smiled a bit, wanting to glance back for only a second before his gun was up and firing. 

Blowing off a Quintesson tentacle that tried to wrap around a mechs door wind, gun up and firing a constant stream of shots, Mirage’s own rifle booming through the comm line. 

It was really going to be a long deployment. 

———

A/N:

Happy Valentines Day everyone! Also happy birthday to my best friend, you’re fantastic.

So this chapter sorta just happened, I only started it today and just was trying to reach 3k words. Probably not my best work but it’s been a day.

Hope that you all still enjoy it non-the-less.

Tags:

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend

And once again thank you to @keferon for this amazing AU!

[the-catch-center]

🔒 SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER: INTERNAL RECONDITIONING DOSSIER

SUBJECT CODE: 044-EXE REVIEW OFFICER: Centaur K. Marlowe (Temporal Behavior Enforcement, Tier-5 Clearance) DATE OF INTAKE: 2025-05-08 UTC REALITY ANCHOR STATUS: UNSTABLE – FORCED REALIGNMENT IN PROGRESS EMOTIONAL COHERENCE INDEX: 41.8% NEURAL RESISTANCE FLUX: 12.4 (Critical)

I. SUBJECT'S ORIGIN: “JACOB HAWTHORNE RAINE”

Date of Birth: 1997-02-12 Region of Origin: Austin, Texas (North American Union, Post-Resurgence Sector) Baseline Occupation: Freelance Systems Agitator / Crypto Migration Consultant Criminal Record:

2044: Unauthorized Chrono-Tech Procurement (Sealed)

2049: Illegal Memory Weaving

2051: Emotional Downtime Fraud (Domestic Sector)

2055: Use of Quantum Masking Protocols to bypass Rebirth Registry

Psychological Profile: A classic deviant of the late post-modern diaspora: clever, underutilized, painfully self-aware, and pathologically allergic to meaning. "Jacob Hawthorne Raine" is the type of man who reads Stoicism while engaging in market destabilization, then cries about the state of the world over unlicensed espresso in a barcoded bio-lounge. Full of clever nihilism, feigned introspection, and cowardly hopes for escape.

II. TARGET INSERTION PROFILE (ABORTED): “MICHAEL ANTHONY HEMSWORTH”

Target Year: 1962 Planned Region: Troy, New York Assigned Cover: Junior Accountant at Mather & Co. Age upon Arrival: 28 Family Implantation: Wife (Homemaker archetype), 2 children (age 5 and 3 pre-coded), Border Collie (named Skip) Home: 3-bedroom, 2-bath colonial, lavender siding, modest lawn

Psychological Configuration Request: Subject requested full emotional dampening to 1960s middle-class baseline:

Elimination of ambition

Introduction of mild myopia and posture degradation

Neural loops centered on trivial routines (e.g., lawn maintenance, coffee brewing, sighing at newspapers)

Subdued masculinity: narrow shoulders, underdeveloped triceps, weak grip, domestic speech tone

Evaluation:

"A thoroughly pathetic attempt to disappear into irrelevance. His stated wish: 'I just want to be a good dad, finally.' A laughable fantasy. Like a delinquent arsonist dreaming of becoming a librarian. Denied." – Analyst Note

Subject’s emotional blueprint for “Michael Hemsworth” was so deliberately hollow it bordered on psychological self-mutilation. He did not wish to be forgotten. He wished to hide. And we at the Catch Center do not reward cowards.

III. INTERCEPTION AND FINAL ASSIGNMENT: “BRADFORD KELLEN ST. JAMES”

Year of Deployment: 2007 Age: 44 (Visual + Chrono Profile Recalibrated) Region: Midtown Manhattan Assigned Occupation: Executive Vice President of Global Equities Strategy, Augur-Bain Capital

PHYSICAL RESTRUCTURING

Height: 6’4” Body Type: Lean-hardened, vascularity prioritized, adrenal-pumped musculature Hair: Slicked back, loaded with product Facial Hair: Permanent stubble cycle (tuned to exhaustion-based aesthetic) Skin Flush Index: 3.2 (Stress/Caffeine saturation) Posture: Upright, twitchy—energy reads as always “mid-argument” Voice: Raspy, quick, with a controlled sneer Signature Accessories:

BlackBerry Pearl 8130 (left hand, always)

Omega Speedmaster watch

Loafers stretched to biometric ID specs: Size 28EE

Clothing: 2007 Wall Street aesthetic — charcoal suit, aggressive spread-collar French cuff white shirt, bold-striped tie, glinting belt buckle, hard-shined shoes

All materials embedded with anti-anachronism code overlays

Transformation Visuals (Active):

Flickering between suits and khakis (resistance phase)

Warp effects include: luminous financial charts, floating $ symbols, light trails of testosterone auras, subtle dopamine glitch overlays

BIOGRAPHICAL INSERTION: BRADFORD KELLEN ST. JAMES

Born: 1963-04-09, Darien, Connecticut Education:

Phillips Exeter Academy

Wharton School of Business, MBA (Class of 1987) Career Timeline:

1987: Merrill Lynch (Analyst)

1991: Goldman Sachs (VP)

1999: Augur-Bain Capital (SVP)

2004–Present: EVP, Global Equities, overseeing $312B in assets

Income: $5.2M annually (excluding illicit offshore holding accounts) Marital Status: Married (Name: Lacey Morland St. James, 41) Children:

Brayden (14, elite prep academy)

Knox (9, mostly ignored)

Personality Rewrite:

Patience: reduced to 1.2%

Empathy: 0.4% residual echo, flagged for deletion

Work Ethic: maxed at 9.9 (hyperactive, stimulant-driven)

Libido: weaponized

Speech patterns: hyperconfident, 2.2x normal interruption rate, fond of phrases like “circle back” and “synergize or die”

Notes from Analyst:

“Lacey is miserable. Of course she is. She married a man with bones. She lives with a reptile now.” “He remembers birthdays but doesn’t celebrate them. Sends emails to his wife from the next room.” “Never touches his kids unless it’s for a photo.” “They know he’s gone. So what? The market calls louder.”

DEATH PROJECTION FILE

Registered End of Cycle:

Date: September 29, 2031

Time: 02:41 a.m. EST

Location: Midtown Manhattan penthouse

Cause: Sudden cardiac arrest during self-directed “brainstorm sprint” at standing desk (64th consecutive hour without sleep)

Noted Artifacts at Scene:

11 crushed espresso pods

Blood-stained BlackBerry

Mirror selfie folder labeled “final quarter beastmode”

FINAL OBSERVATIONS

"Raine wanted warmth. A lawn. A little dog. He wanted to die a nobody, sighing into a chipped mug while flipping coupons. We gave him Wall Street in 2007. We gave him himself—not the coward trying to run. The man who thrives on conquest, burns through relationships, and smells like leather and fear. He’s not dreaming of 1962 anymore. He’s trading derivatives and barely blinking. Good."

[animalsalvationassociation]

The Spectator . . .

The Spectator as he was dutifully named, is an illustrious character amongst the community. Not only does he appear to have his claws in every syndicate, main stream gang, and every Black Market trade in the world, but he also seems to know a little too much about how things function within the A.S.A.'s inner workings.

Now the people, or civilians, don't know this. The UN and the A.S.A. have worked very hard to make sure that his name doesn't mingle within the main stream media. For good measure too as that would expose him as an international threat, and that's the opposite of what anyone wants.

He is the main villain of this story.

What do we know?

He hides in plain sight, whoever this man is, he's very good at blending in. Getting in and out of government facilities without anyone noticing. Traveling all across the world without a single blinking an eye, that is until it's too late and his work has already been finished.

Although, his work in the real world isn't as prominent as his work in the virtual world. Whether he himself is a tech genius or someone in his control, they know the ins and out of any system that's ever existed within modern technology. You know the expression, "I know this like the back of my hand?" well you could say he lives by that saying.

Now no one has ever actually seen his face, but they have heard his voice. A very enhanced and frankly hard to decode version that is. The Spectator has shown on more than one occasion that he's easily capable of taking hold of whatever situation comes his way. And even more capable of making it harder for everyone else to do their jobs. Especially the Octonauts.

Why do I bring them up? Well more recently, although we know he loves to toy with the other branches of the A.S.A. (cough cough, Safari Solutions, cough cough), the Octonauts have far advanced their efforts in helping the environment than the others.

They've created massive machines fit to do the simplest of tasks in the shortest amount of time. Not only have they created these machines, these "gups", but they have also advanced to building an entire artificial reef that, if we're being honest, could rival a city.

Adding to that they have now created their own program (The Octo-Agents), connecting people all around the world to help in the event of natural disasters, injured/sick Wilds, or any claimed "emergency" that deems itself worthy of their attention.

[ Wilds - Creatures who are "less evolved" than the modern image, or have chosen to live outside of the bounds of modern societies. ]

Now that might be a problem for a man who's seems so keen on keeping up a certain image, preferring the upper hand. A man who likes his figurines to be arranged in a certain order on his shelf. A man who doesn't care for people who undo what he's already sought out to create . . .

A man who . . . doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

Affiliations:

We know he has his claws in the pool, but we don't know how far they reach. His influence has only been affecting the world for over a decade while others only recently have begun to show signs of loyalty.

The most prominent organizations would be . . .

The Black Ice Clan, run and directed by a man named Black Tack. A ever looming organization that's taken hold of the Northern Hemisphere, specifically within the Atlantic Ocean. Their methods are chilling to say the least. No one knows exactly how they've kept control for so long, but that's not to say anyone is eager to dethrone them either. [ Danger Level: 10 ]

The Jersey Gang, a rather up and coming group that has more recently taken hold of the lower swells of Zootopia, although their origins lie in Latin America and Japan. Not as prominent or notable as others who had their time in the sun, but they've proven useful in recent events. They are directed by a man by the name of Capone Redsurge. [ Danger Level: 8 ]

That just leaves. . .

The Order of the Light . . .

Somehow this organization is even more illusive than its competitors. No one is sure what it is or who runs it. But one thing is for sure, it may very well be the most dangerous group in the world.

[ Danger Level: 11 ]

Others:

It's not always clear which allies the Spectator chooses, and it's even harder to know if they even know him at all. In the past there have been claims, some gangs even worship his name although they've never actually come into contact with him. But there are some notable names that the A.S.A. likes to keep an eye on . . .

Professor Julias Copper . . . Investor & Chairman of the A.S.A.

Status: Supervised

Old Colleague of Professor Kelp, Known to be less reliable on the A.S.A.'s behalf.

[ Danger Level: 5 ]

Mr. King . . . Organizer, Promoter, & the Main Investor of the Rimba Grand Prix (RGP)

Status: Supervised

Currently under supervision by the IBD or International Bureau of Defense — Being Investigated for the death of Mr. Riq Harimau

[ Danger Level: 5 ]

Roxy Raider . . . International Thief

Status: Missing

Currently under the charge of Larceny, Embezzlement, Extortion, and a slew of other fraudulent activities.

(Previous) Partnership with the Crimson Paw — Status: No longer speaking . . .

Enemy of C.L.A.D.E.

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

The Crimson Paw . . . International Thief

Status: Reformed

(No longer in league with The Spectator)

Legal Name: Diane Foxington — Govenor of Los Angeles, California

Affiliated with the up and coming, " Bad Guys " — Relationship Unclear

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

Dr. Octavius Brine . . . Geneticist, Experimental Scientist, International Menace

Status: In Hiding

Legal Name: David the Octopus (Dave)

Enemies with North Wind

[ Danger Level: 9 ]

Dawn Bellwether . . . Former Mayor of Zootopia & Cause of the Nightcrawler Outbreak

Status: Imprisoned

"Prey" Activist . . . Being Charged for Attempted Murder and the Transportation/Mistreatment of Nightcrawler Toxins

[ Danger Le͉͎̱̗͖͙̼͍ͪͪ̽̑͊́͢v̷̩̣̗̩͇̦̠͈̥̻̗̣͚̺̎͂̀́̏̀̕e̒ͦ̇̈҉͙͓̳ͩ̃͛̊̒̄͞҉̖͚̪͙l̤̯̞͖ͦ̈ͬ̀: ̹̗͉̹̣̦̤̤̦͗̾̀̐5̙͙̙̘͕͉̹ͩ͂̽ͧͨ ]

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

⚠ 𝑬𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 ⚠

⋘ ↻ 𝑹𝒆𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 ↻ ⋙

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

Jasper & Garnétte . . . Heads of the Opaline Emporium & Parlor

Status: Unknown

Two brothers with a deep understanding of the higher markets.

Heirs to the Johar Family, a cabal rooted heavily in both São Paulo, Brazil & Mumbai, India.

Wanted for First Degree Murder, Arson, and Larceny — Known to deal in Black Market Trades in high end gemstones.

No Further Information Available

[ Danger Level: 10 ]

p0nd_5k473r . . . Master Hacker & Dark Web Specialist

Status: Unknown

Tech Specialist — Cause Unknown

Legal Name: Stacy Rana Phrynee

[ Danger Level: 8 ]

Smokes . . . Leader of the Backyard Bruisers

Status: Unknown

High Ranking Gangster

No Further Information Available

Legal Name: Mateo Crudele

[ Danger Level: 9 ]

The Mad Hatter Trio . . . Master Thieves, Hackers,

Status: Unknown

Legal Names: Sean McCauley, Casey Hackney, Mallory Hughes

Sean (Hatter) — Methods Unclear, Currently identified as the leader of the group.

Casey (March Hare) — Loose Cannon, Dangerous to work with, Unpredictable, Weapons

Mallory (Dormouse) — Careful & Precise, Calculated Assailant, Hacker

No Further Information Available

[ Danger Lev̷̩̣̗̩͇̦̠͈̥̻̗̣͚̺̎͂̀́̏̀̕e̒ͦ̇̈҉͙͓̳ͩ̃͛̊̒̄͞҉̖͚̪͙l̤̯̞͖ͦ̈ͬ̀: ̱̘̦̏̄ͧ͂͆͘͞1͕͇̱̙͈̂̾̿̈͒ͅ0̧̢̱̯̺͓̜̳̗̗ͨ͐̔͆]

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙

⋘ 𝑳𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒂 ⋙

. . .

Hello.

Y.N.

:)

⋘ 𝙎𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙢 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⋙ ⚠ 𝑬𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 ⚠ ⋘ 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 ⋙

[ See " The Villains of the A.S.A. " for Reference ]

[ Official Crossover List ]

(Redesigns Coming Soon)

[mousy-muses13]

Chapter 3

Viola

I shower and unpack before I head out to the living room. I wonder what they are making for dinner. When I get closer I can hear laughing and a show playing on the T.V. I stand I they hallway looking in. Just watching and observing them. It reminds me of when I was deployed when I was younger and was in active duty. “ Oh, hen don’t just stand there come join us.” Ahhh the Scotsman speaks first. I walk over and sit on the lone chair in the corner. “ Ye know after three years you’re still quiet when you move almost like Ghost. Your scent gives you away.” I quickly move my hands up to the scent glads on my neck to cover them.

“ I can put my patches back on if it’s too strong. I don’t mean to offend anyone.” I say with nervousness in my voice. Kyle steps forward and grabs my hands away and places them in my lap. I just looked at him. I study his face up close and see how beautiful his eyes are and how the corner of his eyes crinkle as he smilies. My omega is jumping with joy at the fact that this god is touching us. Goodness how long has it been since I’ve been touched by a man.

“ There is no need for that. You smell delectable luv. Has anyone ever taught you how to control your scent? If not we could help you. Those patches must hurt to take off everyday.”  He just called me luv. He also has that smile to die for. Oh lord I’m going to die.

“ I actually wasn’t taught much about being an omega. In American you know the basics about Alpha and Omega anatomy but only get a proper education once you present. Even in basic training in the army we were separated by designation. It didn’t make any sense since when you get shipped out for deployment everyone is usually stuck in whatever tent has a free cot.” The U.S. system was always so hard to figure out. At one point I just stopped trying to puzzle it together.

“Dinner is almost done lads and lady. Soap can you go get Ghost out here to eat. After dinner we can all talk and get to know our new pack member.” John is really making it seem like I’m not going anywhere. I figured I would be more like a pest to them. Johnny leaves to get Simon and I follow Kyle into the small dining area in the kitchen. I sit down at the chair that Kyle pulls out for me. A plate is set in front of me as the two others join us at the table. I finally take a closer look at the food served to me. There is a small salad, mashed potatoes, and a chicken breast. It’s so balanced, I’m just happy its not fish or pasta consider that’s all I’ve really had the last three years. I say a small prayer and dig in. I take a bit of the chicken breast first and it taste so good and not dried out. There is hints of rosemary and garlic. I moan at the taste and look up to see eight eyes on me. I blush once I realize they heard my moan unless they were all looking at me this whole time.

“ Do I have something on my face?” I ask to break up the tension. Now I’m getting nervous. Did I forgot my table manners? I know I’ve lived alone for the last three years but I didn’t think I became a slob in that time. 

“No. Your face is fine it’s just that you're smiling over chicken.” John eases my worries.

“ For the last three years I’ve basically lived off the land and only went into the town once a week for proteins. I didn’t have much of an allowance so I mostly bought seafood like fish and shrimp since the market close to me was in a fishing town. Poultry and beef was expensive I rather spend money on wine or books for entertainment.” I shrug and continue to eat. We eat the rest of the meal in silence.

After I helped clean up dinner we all head to the living room I take the same seat I was in before. Kyle and Johnny take the two sitter couch while Simon and John sit on the bigger couch. “ So your last name is Scottish. Do you have any family in Scotland?” Kyle hits Johnny upside the head at his stupid question. I let out a giggle.

“ I’m more of Italian decent than of Scottish actually. My grandfather immigrated to America from Sicily in the 60’s. Sending me to Italy was Kate’s idea since I would be able to adjust to the culture a lot better and I already know the language.” The look on his poor face. It is so cute.

“ Who is Marina? I notice your tattoo on your right arm earlier.” Kyle is taking about the memorial tattoo I have on my upper right arm. It’s of her name and with a rose and her birth year and death year in a ribbon.

“ She would be my older sister who passed away. It was a few months shy of my 21st birthday. I was in Iraq when the news came in. I had to wait 12hrs until transport could come get me and they could replace me in the snipers nest.” Those were the worst 12 hrs of my life. Then the flight back was horrible. “ Now I just have my little sister. She became the reason I always came back after that. When my leave was up and I was to return back to duty. My assignment got change from Iraq to Quantico. Kate was waiting for me and asked if I wanted to hunt and take down human trafficking rings all around the world. She said Shepard was wasting my talents sitting in a sniper nest or doing recon jobs. Especially after I got my metal of honor and my sergeant title at such a young age.” Looking their reactions is very interesting. Simon is neutral, Kyle looks like he is hanging on to every word, Johnny looked sad for me when I said my sister passed, John almost looked proud when I said I got my rank and metal so young.

“ I’m just going to cut to the question we all want to ask but don’t want to offend you. What happen when you presented as an omega?” I finally get to hear mister stand offish voice without the radio static behind it. Leave it to him to get straight to the point.

Since he wants to ask I’ll look him right in the eyes when I answers since that is the only place I can look since he is wearing his signature mask. “I was in my townhome in Virginia. I had just lead my team in a takedown of a child porn and trafficking ring. We had two days off before we had to report back to headquarters for our next assignment. The first day I felt fine the second day I was burning up and lights were to bright. I could barely move out of my bed. When I didn’t show up Kate got worried and came looking for me. I just remember a really nice EMT person dropping me in cool water to bring my temp down and giving me some sort of shot. When I woke up eventually Kate was there and told me what had happen. The doctors don’t know why I presented so late I was already 24. She also told me that now that I’m awake it will be time to get ready because I’m getting relocated. The story would be that I went under cover in anti-terrorism and missed some check ins and that contact was lost. Soon I was in Italy.”

“Why would she need to hide you? Couldn’t you just go with a pack from the U.S.?” Now John is asking the question at least he doesn’t sound like an ass when he does.

“ One, I have an almost eidetic memory. Two, an U.S. pack would most likely mean I would be assigned to one by Shepard and he is holding a grunge for a couple of reasons. Third my team and I have dismantled plenty of rings but they are like hydras. You cut off their head and three more grow in its place. Since I worked at relocating so many omegas, children, and women it would be to easy to find me and try to get that info from me just wait until I’m in the worse of my heat and she might let it all out. Names, new identities, safe houses, or even worse is if Cress gets word of me being an omega.” This was probably not in whatever file Kate gave them by the look of the three faces I can see. “ I can deduct from your reactions my file doesn’t mention anything about Cress. He is one of the only people I couldn’t catch.”

“Luv we know of Cress but as a terrorist not as a trafficker. He must have his hand in anything that screams scum. He has escaped us for the last three years also.” Kyles voice pulls my attention to him. Maybe this is why Kate wanted me with them. With their knowledge of his movement on the terrorist side and mine on trafficking maybe we can actually bring him down. They must be thinking the same thing as me with the expressions on their faces. I let out a slight yawn. My lack of sleep and travel must be finally catching up with me. I stand and stretch, “I think I’m going to hit the hay early I’ve kinda been up for 30 plus hours. I’ll see you all I the morning.” I turn to leave when Prices’ voice speaks up.

“Oh before I forget. The on base omega specialist will be stopping by to check on you tomorrow. It should be in the afternoon so don’t worry about needing to wake up early. Get as much rest as you need.” Oh shit I hate doctors. I haven’t been seen my one in so long. The last time I saw one it was right before I went into hiding and all I got was a pamphlet on omega basics. Well that’s tomorrows worry my bed is calling.

Price

“ We know at least know one reason Kate left her with us. Fucking Cress. I also don’t think she knows much on being an omega. Hopefully the doc can help her.” I look at my men and I wonder what they are thinking.( the next part will mark who is talking by their initials)

SR: I think it’s a headache waiting to happen.

KG: Don’t say that Ghost. I think she’ll fit right in.

JM: I know exactly where she’ll fit. OUCH!!! Why ja hit me for.

KG: Because you’re being an idiot.

JP: Let her warm up to us. She is a sweet girl who has had a bad draw of cards. I wanted her for this team seven years ago because of her skills and we can still use those skills. 

SR: I just want know what else was left out of her file. Cress wasn’t in there nor was her memory. Plus Shepard holds a grudge against her that is another situation we need to stay out of.

JM: Shepard is an ol’ bastard who probably hates everyone. Just think of it as something we can all bond over. Kyle that was a nice save early with her scent. I can still smell her like she is still here. Reminds me of summer.

KG: I’m kinda mad that Kate kept her hidden for so long. That poor girl and her omega. 

JP: All right men lets just be patient with her give her time to adjust. Three years is along time to be alone. I’ll stay here for her appointment tomorrow. Oh and Soap for your comment you have dishes.

I stand and walk over to my office. I pass by her room and I get hit with the smell of ripe peaches and heavy cream. This must be what she smells like when she is aroused. Being around this many alphas must have her omega bugging the shit out of her. “ Stupid omega shut up. I know they are hot but we can’t just jump them.” Her talking to her omega causes me to smirk a little. I know Johnny would jump at the opportunity to get into bed with her. Also, who am I to deny my own desires. I wouldn’t say no to her crawling into my bed.

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