#and i have spared you from nada's final scene you can thank me later

[bellakitse]

Peach Boba

“I’m sleeping with TK Strand,” he blurts out in an exhale, his shoulders loosening as the words are finally given voice. He waits for Michelle’s reaction, shock, or disbelief. Instead, she continues chewing, barely sparing him a glance.

*

Carlos tells Michelle about him and TK, she gives him advice. TK surprises him.

Fictober 2020

Prompt number: 2. “that’s the easy part”

Fandom: 911 Lone Star - Rated G

Carlos Reyes sits across his friend Michelle, watching her eat instead of eating; he's played around with his chicken and rice for the last fifteen minutes while Michelle devours her meal. There are words at the tip of his tongue that Carlos is sure he'll explode if he doesn’t get them out.

“I’m sleeping with TK Strand,” he blurts out in an exhale, his shoulders loosening as the words are finally given voice. He waits for Michelle’s reaction, shock, or disbelief.  Instead, she continues chewing, barely sparing him a glance. 

He waits, getting annoyed when she still doesn’t say anything. “Seriously, chica?” he questions, irritated. “You have an opinion about everything – but this, nada?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me something surprising,” she answers easily, taking another bite.

“You didn’t know,” he accuses her, scowling when she just shrugs a shoulder at him.

“I didn’t know for sure,” she agrees, reaching over to steal a piece of chicken from his takeout container. “But you two undress each other when we’re all on calls together, and I see you lingering around each other as I work on the victims.”

“You should be focused on the scene,” he tells her, blushing at her observations and the smirk she gives him now.

“I could say the same for you, Officer Reyes,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “Instead, you end up mooning over that pretty boy. You telling me how you’re sleeping with him isn’t a big reveal, kid.”

“Oh,” he says softly, not sure what to say next.

Michelle watches him quietly, sipping on her water as she waits. When he doesn’t say anything, she rolls her eyes, letting out a huff. “Well?” she demands impatiently. “How is he in the sack?”

Carlos feels his face go red hot as his eyes widen. “Michelle!”

“Oh, come on,” Michelle scoffs, rolling her eyes again. “If you are telling me now, it’s because you want to talk about it.”

“We’re not talking about that,” he swears, earning a wince back from her.

“Oof, that bad, huh?” she says with pity in her voice that has him answering before reason can catch up with him.

“No!” he argues hotly. “TK is a ten, the sex is mind-blowingly amazing.”

Michelle grins at him victoriously, perfect white teeth flashing. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? No need to be such a prude.”

“I hate you,” Carlos tells her. He tries to give her a disapproving look, sighing when all she does is flash him another amused smile at his expense. Sometimes when dealing with Michelle, it’s exactly like dealing with one of his sisters.

“That’s a lie,” she tells him unconcerned before pointing at him with her fork. “So, what’s going on?”

Carlos hesitates, not sure how to put what he’s feeling into words. “It’s complicated,” he finally answers, rolling his eyes at the cliché.

Michelle raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s the problem? You just said he’s a ten,” she reminds him with a quirk of her lips. “I’ll tease you about that comment later by the way – and you said the sex is amazing. What’s so complicated about that?”

“Nothing is complicated about the sex,” he answers. “It’s fantastic – that’s the easy part,” he continues with a sigh, leaving out that it’s everything outside of the bedroom that gets dicey between him and TK.

Even without saying the words out loud, Michelle seems to read them off his expression alone. “Oh, Carlos,” she says with gentle teasing. “You really are the softest, sweetest boy.”

“Michelle,” he whines, feeling himself blush as she chuckles lovingly in his direction.

“Sorry, sorry,” she says quickly, still laughing softly at him.

“Yeah, I really feel your remorse as you laugh in my face,” he answers sarcastically, shaking his head when her eyes crinkle at the corners from her amusement.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Michelle repeats, taking a breath before letting it out loudly. “So, the problem isn’t the sex,” she says meaningfully. “It’s that you want it to not just be about sex.”

Carlos swallows, feeling his face go warm once again, but he finds himself nodding anyway. Michelle returns the gesture in understanding.

“You want to date him,” she continues, and Carlos nods once more, making Michelle smiles softly. She reaches over to place her hand over his. “So ask him. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“He could say no,” Carlos answers honestly. “He could say no, and I can lose him completely.”

“If that happens, he’s not as smart as he seems,” Michelle shoots back, and Carlos smiles at the protectiveness he hears in her voice; he turns his hand to intertwine their fingers, giving her hand a squeeze, silently thanking her for her support.

Michelle softens at the gesture.

“We should finish here,” he motions to their forgotten meal. “I still have to take you back to the station.”

Michelle nods, picking up her fork once more. She waits a moment before speaking again. “For the record, I don’t think you should worry about him saying no to a date at all.”

“No?” he questions, taking a bite of his lunch.

“No,” Michelle answers with a shake of her head. “Remember, I wasn’t surprised about you two – and that’s because that boy lights up around you as much as you do around him. It’s obvious.”

Carlos bites down on his lip, feeling his heart speed up at the hopefulness he feels with Michelle’s assurance. He lets her words run through his head for a moment.

“We have to stop somewhere before I take you back,” he tells her, feeling nervous and excited as he comes to a decision.

Michelle raises an eyebrow at him, but all Carlos does is smile.

 ֍֍֍

 “Shut up Michelle,” Carlos mutters, cheeks stained red as he pulls up to the Fire Station, one hand on the Peach bubble tea to make sure it doesn’t spill. Michelle grins at him from the passenger’s seat.

“Trying to win the boy over through his stomach,” she teases, paying no mind to his warning.

Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he parks. “He likes boba, okay,” he tells her, causing Michelle to snicker.

“You’re adorable, Carlos,” she continues.

Carlos sighs again, getting out of the car, waiting for Michelle as she comes around to his side. He rolls his eyes as she nudges him with her shoulder as they walk into the station.

“Hey!” calls out a voice above them.

Carlos looks over at the stairs; at the top stands TK, leaning on the rail as he looks down at them for a moment before he starts to make his way down.

“Yeah,” Michelle whispers at him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “That smile on his face screams not interested.”

“Go away,” Carlos hisses at her as TK walks towards them; he feels her shake with laughter before she steps away just as TK comes to stand in front of him, he flashes her a smile before looking back at Carlos.

“Hey, you,” he says easily, his green eyes twinkling, obviously pleased to see him.

“Hey,” Carlos greets him back, he wonders if TK can hear his racing heart. “Brought you something,” he continues, lifting the cup in his hand towards him. He watches as TK lights up at the simple gift, and Carlos knows that he’s gone for the man in front of him without a shadow of a doubt.

“Peach?” TK asks, taking the drink from Carlos. He takes a sip, grinning around the straw. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah?” Carlos questions jokingly even as the words make his stomach flutter.

“Yep,” TK answers sweetly, taking another sip. “My favorite.”

“I know,” Carlos nods towards the drink in TK’s hand.

“Oh, yeah,” TK says, looking down at the drink. “That’s my favorite too.”

Carlos startles at the implication behind TK’s words; he looks at him, feeling his breath catch at the shy look TK gives him from under his eyelashes. He opens his mouth, ready to put his heart on the line and just ask TK out the way Michelle said.

“TK – “

“Hey, are you free tonight?” TK interrupts. He bites down on his bottom lip, a nervous smile on his face when Carlos raises an eyebrow at him. “I saw this ad for a drive-in on Franklin,” he tells him, the words coming out in a rush. “I thought it could be fun.”

“You wanna catch a movie?” Carlos questions, not sure if he hears TK right or if he’s daydreaming this very moment. “With me?”

“They’re playing Grease,” TK tells him like it explains everything. “We can get a bite to eat afterwards if we aren’t stuffed from popcorn and M&M’s.”

“A date?” he asks softly, hesitantly, hopefully.

“Yes,” TK answers just as soft, but sure. “A date.”

Carlos nods, probably more than he should by the way TK grins, pleased and amused.

“Okay, then,” he says, still smiling, bright and oh so beautiful. “My shift ends at seven, pick me up?”

“Yeah,” Carlos gets out, still shocked by the turn of events. “Seven.”

“Great,” TK answers quietly. He pauses for a moment before stepping forward into Carlos’ space, pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth without thought of who might be watching, or how, with the action – he’s stealing the last bit of Carlos’ heart that isn’t already his. “Thank you for my drink.”

[thenightling]

Preemptive Strike: Yes!  We know Morpheus (The Sandman) is problematic.  Thank you for noticing!

I knew I would have to write this one day and that day has finally come.   Now that Sandman is getting a Netflix series adaptation a new flock of curious readers will venture into the source material or watch the new series and they will be surprised by one little thing...  

The protagonist was a colossal asshole...

Yes, friends.  The protagonist of Sandman is “problematic.”   We know this.  We acknowledge this.  Neil Gaiman knows this.   It is very much deliberate and not meant to be excused by anyone. 

 “I’m just worried the author might think this sort of problematic behavior is okay.” - I’ve seen this statement before in regard to literature.  No.   Just no.  We all know he’s problematic and no one justifies it.   

Morpheus, in Sandman, has a backstory that is arguably villainous.  He’s done many, many terrible things.   So why do we like him?

Well, there’s a lot more to him than that. Also the little Fuck-up knows he’s a Fuck-up.  Seventy-two-years trapped in a giant glass bubble in a magical binding circle, (the very first issue of Sandman) gives one time to think, time to reflect.  And he’s still kind of a jerk when he gets out but that’s okay, he’s still learning.   Most of Sandman is watching Morpheus grow from asshole to more sympathetic and more human.  

To prepare you (in case you can’t handle or forgive his actions) I have a few of his most terrible actions here in this post.   So be warned, there are spoilers from this point on.

1.  Morpheus was in love with a black woman named Nada, a young queen.  I only mention her race because it might be an issue for some people on Tumblr who might think Morpheus’ actions are racist.  No, Morpheus has no real race.  What he does to her is awful but it wasn’t about her race.

This was ten-thousand-years-ago.  When she rejected Morpheus he grew enraged and condemned her soul to Hell.  Later in Sandman: Season of Mists (the fourth graphic novel in the Sandman series) a conversation with Death (Morpheus’ sister) makes Morpheus realize he was wrong to have done this.  (He’s a BIT thick...)    

He resolves to go to Hell to rescue Nada even though he’s afraid of confronting Lucifer.  When he arrives in Hell he finds out Lucifer is closing down Hell (basis for the Lucifer TV series).   

Eventually Morpheus does rescue Nada from a demon.  He gives her a half-assed apology of “Perhaps” he was wrong and “Maybe” he was mistaken for what he did.  

Note for context:  Though Morpheus is usually portrayed as having flesh that is pretty much bone-white he is actually devoid of race and often will appear as the race (or dream based deity) of whoever is looking upon him. 

Morpheus’ half-assed apology earned him a well deserved slap in the face from Nada. 

And finally he gives her the real apology she deserves. 

A detail that may not sit right with some modern audiences is she DOES accept his apology for leaving her in Hell for ten-thousand-years.   She still loves him despite what he had done.  I know some people on Tumblr will not be happy with her doing that but it is the character’s choice and Morpheus did not seem to think he would be forgiven, which (to me) made the scene kind of sweet.  Sometimes it’s okay to forgive a really awful wrong.  It doesn’t make you weak or less of a woman.   Sometimes forgiveness is the best way to heal.  

2.  Morpheus badly mistreated his own son, Orpheus.  If you know the Greek Myth of Orpheus you know what happened to him.  Orpheus went to The Underworld to retrieve his dead bride.  Hades told him he could have her back if he did not look back while leaving The Underworld.  Distrusting Hades, Orpheus started to fear he was deceived and just before he could leave The Underworld he looked back at his love and she was pulled away from him and back to the Elysium Fields (Greek Heaven part of The Underworld).    

Orpheus was condemned to immortality but angry Bacchanalia tore his body asunder.  His still-living severed head was tossed and ended up on a beach.  Morpheus (still very much an asshole back then) abandoned his son because when Orpheus was still grieving his wife, Orpheus had cursed and denounced his father for not helping him get his wife back. 

Morpheus was kind enough to send dreams to some Pagan priests to look after his son through the ages in a secret shrine but that was the extent of his mercy.  For centuries Orpheus wanted to die to be reunited with his wife...

During Sandman: Brief Lives, Morpheus reconciles with his son (who is just a living-head being tended to by Pagan Greek priests) and Morpheus gives his son what he has wanted for a long, long, time.  He puts his poor son out of his misery and sends him to The Elysium Fields where he is again whole.  How Morpheus had treated his son is one sin Morpheus, himself, will not forgive himself for and yearns to be punished for.

3.  During Morpheus’ initial falling out with his son, Orpheus, Morpheus also badly mistreated Calliope (the muse) who was Morpheus’ wife at the time.  Morpheus shut her out and essentially unceremoniously divorced her for scolding him about how he treated Orpheus (this was long, long, before Morpheus and Orpheus’ reconcile).  In present day, after his considerable character growth, Morpheus finds out Calliope has fallen into the hands of cruel mortals who are holding her prisoner, raping and exploiting her for her powers. He rescues her and severely punishes her captor.

4.   At the very start of the first issue of Sandman Morpheus was captured by mortal occultists who kept him prisoner.  The main one of this was Roderick Burgess.  

Roderick passed away and left his prisoner to his son, Alexander.  Alex loathed keeping Morpheus but he was afraid to let him go for fear Morpheus would seek revenge on him. Alex could have said as much but he tried to get the immortality, power, and promise that he would not seek revenge and when Morpheus refused to answer him he flung insults and threats at him, just like his father.

When Morpheus finally escapes he shows no mercy to Alex (though he spared Alex’s husband, Paul).  Morpheus traps Alex in a torment called “Eternal waking” which is a nightmare that just ends with him waking in another nightmare and that one ending into yet another nightmare and on and on for all time.  Alex eventually does get released and forgiven but it takes years.

5.   During Season of Mists Morpheus is given a faery servant named Nuala.  Let’s call a spade a spade here.  She’s a slave girl.   Morpheus does not want to accept her.  He actually does not condone slavery.   But if he does not accept her being given as a gift the faeries will use that as an excuse to declare war on him.  (This was during the time Morpheus had the key to Hell and many supernatural entities wanted it.)   Morpheus allows her to stay, knowing if he rejects the gift or makes her leave the faeries will deliberately take it as an insult and therefor an excuse to declare war to take the key to Hell.  But Morpheus never gives her any orders.  The one thing he does that others might take offense to is he does force her to remove her glamour spell (A spell hiding her true form).  Later this is beneficial as it teaches Nuala that her true form is not ugly and that she should accept herself despite what the faery society imposes on her.   

All faeries hide under a glamour and it’s a metaphor for conforming to what society expects and wants of you instead of being true to yourself.  Morpheus wanted her to truly be herself.  But the way he goes about it may be questionable as it might be viewed as not respecting her agency.

Later when faeries come back to reclaim her in a different storyline, Morpheus rewards her service with a promise of a boon as a means to play her as he is not comfortable with the idea of slavery.  Ultimately Nuala chooses to leave the realm of Faerie rather then go back to hiding her true self under a glamour just to appease others.  

6.   Another contemporary misbehavior is Morpheus kind of implies he wants / plans to take Lyta’s baby son, Daniel.  It comes off as creepy and Rumpelstiltskin-esque and this becomes a problem later.  It’s deliberately out of context and perhaps suicidal that he does this, considering what happens. 

Morpheus should write a book. “How to frame yourself for kidnapping in three easy steps.”    

7.   One of Morpheus’ greatest flaws is his pride.  He does not like to ask for help. He does not accept criticism well. He had probably never apologized in his life until he apologized to Nada (and then other apologies come easier).   And he had trouble forgiving.     

Morpheus’ past is dark. He has done some incredibly awful things (that is kind of the point) and while he is growing as a character he still occasionally does awful things.  But he learns. He grows.  And he tries to make amends and that is the point.

So yes, Tumblr,  Yes, I present to you a new Trash Can Child.  We know he is problematic. He knows he’s problematic.  Neil Gaiman knows he’s problematic.  I’m pretty sure Morpheus has shrubbery that knows he’s problematic.  He is a mess.  And we love him for it.    

So before you get angry about his behavior just understand, it’s supposed to be dark, it’s supposed to be awful.  That’s what makes his change more powerful.  Morpheus kind of embodies that song lyric from Beauty and the Beast.  (“Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change.  Learning you were wrong...”)   

So if you notice he’s a problematic trainwreck of a supernatural creature, good for you!  You observed the obvious!  Well done!   We know.   Everyone knows. No one will deny it.  But he’s our repentant former-asshole.

He is our idiot dumpster-fire baby but we’re willing to share.

[keldae]

Drastic Measures (Chapter Twenty-Seven)

The Shereshoy whined as it descended through the Alderaanian atmosphere, maneuvering sharply to slip through the narrow opening of a cavern built into the side of one of the many mountains in the snowy region. It hovered briefly, finally settling within a clearing in the caves, neatly parked beside the battle-worn Dancer. The engines were still ramping down as Sorand descended the ramp of the Shereshoy. He tossed a casual salute to his brother. “Good job not getting shot,” he said with a smirk.

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” Korin grinned, then waved as Lana and Torian followed his brother down the ramp. Shara was only a step behind, Koth in tow. “Corey got here same time I did. He’s parked beside the Raven — I’ve been told your baby’s just fine, ‘Rand.”

“She’d better be, or there’ll be hell to pay,” Sorand muttered, sparing a glance downward as Tee-Seven rolled down the ramp with a series of beeps and whistles. “Any contact with the rest of the cell?”

“They know we’re here. A couple of the Organas came out to say hi.” Korin started walking beside his brother through the tunnels. He knew the layout of the base well from his regular supply and intel runs. “From everything I was told, they haven’t heard anything. And still no check-in from Malcom yet.”

“Not even a text message?” Sorand frowned, feeling his worry echoed. When he glanced back, he could see Akaavi and Rusk behind him, Bowdarr bringing up the rear.

“That is concerning,” Lana murmured, a frown creasing her brow. “If Corso hasn’t been able to contact us…”

“Even if Farmboy’s on the lam,” Shara spoke up, “it ain’t good that the kriffing Supreme Commander went quiet and all. If he showed up on-scene and the Zaks caught him…”

“Especially if he really is Shan’s biological father,” Koth spoke up. “With that reputation of Shan being a terrorist, every loyal Zakuulan is going to want to wring any possible bit of intel that they can get, especially from a family member.”

“As if we didn’t have enough to be worried about.” Sorand frowned. “Any word from Dad yet?”

“Nada. But you know how Dad gets when he’s in ops mode. If he hasn’t contacted us by the end of the week, we can be worried then.” Korin shrugged as he rounded a corner, leading into a giant cavern. Once, it had been overrun with killiks; it now housed a resistance operations base. “Where’d you send the rest of the Mando squad to?”

“Mand’alor recalled them -- can’t say where to an aruetii,” Shara interjected, “but she’s giving me, Corey, Torian, and Akaavi a pass since she knows we’re workin’ with the resistance directly.”

“Fair enough.” Korin looked forward and raised his voice as they approached a command platform. “Hey, look what the wild manka dragged in!”

The flurry of activity on the platform ceased for a split second as everyone looked over, before a burst of excited noises filled the cavern. A second later, Talos hurried around the large Hutt on the platform, open relief in his expression. “My lord! It’s a relief to see you well and unharmed.”

“Good to see you too, Talos.” Sorand waved as Kimble came up behind the archaeologist and promptly smiled in relief. “You as well, Kimble.” He looked around, noting a few familiar faces, and more strange ones. Not even Thunder knew the name and face of everyone in the resistance. “This is a very impressive setup here for the resistance. Well done.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Vector spoke up as he offered the Sith a bow. “Did you have any problems leaving Tatooine?”

“Fewer than leaving Dromund Kaas,” Sorand muttered.

“The Fleet came barrellin’ in as the last transports were leaving,” Korin spoke up. “All they’ll be findin’ is empty caves and exhaust fumes. They didn’t catch any of us on the way out.”

“Cuttin’ it a little close at the end,” Koth commented, his brow creasing. “Another hour…”

“Ah, c’mon, Vortena.” Korin grinned. He clapped the former Zakuulan officer on the shoulder. “It’s a Core World tradition to procrastinate to the very last minute on important, life-altering things.”

“Only on your homeworld, perhaps.” Vector shook his head as he stepped back a pace. “Shall we provide an in-brief?”

“Please do.” Sorand fell into step beside the Joiner as his entourage of followers scattered, leaving him with Korin, Lana, Shara, and Koth. He could just hear the sounds of Kimble and Rusk meeting up again, mingled with Tee-Seven’s happy beeping. “First, the Zakuulans. Then we can discuss Malcom.”

“As you wish.” Vector bowed slightly. “If the Zakuulans have heightened their surveillance of Alderaan, we are unaware of it. There have been a few patrols that have come from the Star Fortress, but no more than usual. They still maintain a safe distance from the killik nests, for fear of Joining us.”

I don’t blame them, Sorand thought, but said nothing. “The noble houses?”

“Organa, Rist, Frayus, and Alde are still assisting us with supplies and transportation around the planet. Thul and Ulgo are aware of our presence, but they do not know where we are. We have a connection directly to Organa Castle not far from here, and this portion of the cave leads out to Rist lands. Killiks inhabit most of it, but we can travel through the nests safely, provided we do not cause them a disturbance.”

“Which is a boon,” Lana agreed, even if she cast a wary glance to one of the killiks walking around the cave. “Malcom?”

“Silence -- not even an attempt at contact that we can determine.” Vector frowned. “Duke Charle is concerned, as is the only Zakuulan inside the castle. We actually wished your opinion on the matter of this latest defector, my lord. She is a Zakuulan knight by the name of Senya Tirall—”

“Wait,” Koth finally spoke up. “Senya Tirall is here?” He seemed to be paling behind his goatee. “She was the captain of Valkorion’s personal guard!”

Korin’s eyebrows vanished under his scruffy hair. “That high ranked a defector? Shit, Arcann really ain’t endearing himself to a lot of you folks.”

“That’s new information,” Sorand said, shaking his head. “I think I’d rather like to meet her. If Valkorion’s captain of the guard has abandoned Zakuul, perhaps more Zakuulans will follow her.”

“We suspected you would.” Vector bowed slightly. “We can introduce her to you, Lord Imperius. She has indeed expressed curiosity about you, and not merely because of your sister. Your reputed strength in the Force impresses even the Zakuulans.”

“My reputed strength in the Force? I’m a little insulted.” Sorand offered Vector a small smirk. “Lead on, then.” He fell into step with the Joiner.

Behind him, the redheaded Corellian Jedi, Master Bel Iblis, stared after him, looking not unlike she had seen a ghost. She watched as his brother hesitated, looking around as though he could sense something... off. After a moment, he merely shook his head and followed Sorand.

Master Bel Iblis finally stepped back as the group departed, pale as she clutched a datapad to her chest. “That’s what her sons look like?” she whispered.

It was another day of travel before the Aegis dropped out of hyperspace in Alderaan’s orbital path. Xaja stifled a yawn as she and Theron walked into the bridge of the warship: The constant travel, flitting about the galaxy to obfuscate their trail, left her body with no idea what the date was anymore. She was pretty sure she was still operating on something approaching Dromund Kaas time. Right now it felt like the dim hours before dawn, although Theron had said that it was closer to early afternoon in Organa territory, on the planet surface. Maybe one day we’ll be lucky enough to stay somewhere long enough to get adjusted to one planetary time zone without having to run so quickly.

She snorted inwardly. Right. And maybe Arcann will offer a truce.

Malcom looked over as she and Theron approached him. “We’ve just arrived at Alderaan,” he said without any preamble. “The Star Fortress is orbiting the far side of the planet; if we’re quick enough with the descent, we should be able to vanish before they realize we’re here.”

“How often do the Zakuulans go poking around on the surface?” Theron asked, frowning at the rapidly-approaching planet and resting a hand protectively on Xaja’s lower back.

“Every so often they’ll traipse through the various Houses’ territories or go into the castles. But it’s not as often as they used to do.” Malcom stepped back as Master Satele approached them, Corso and Jorgan a step behind her. “When I left, the only Zakuulan in Organa territory was Knight Tirall, and she’s a defector.”

“I am curious about meeting her,” Xaja murmured. The idea of a Zakuulan defector and rebel against Arcann was one that perplexed her. And from what Master Satele had hinted, Tirall was not a mere grunt in the ranks who had abandoned her post. She was respectably high-ranked. Perhaps Arcann had pissed off more of his people than Xaja had dared to hope. If so, maybe she and Theron had a chance of survival.

“I expect she’ll be one of the first people you’ll meet when we finally get you to the resistance.” Master Satele offered a small smile. “She was interested in you as well — and I don’t believe she’s interested in turning you in.”

“We’ll worry about introductions after we get you two to safety,” Malcom rumbled. “Once you’ve gone underground with the resistance, you’ll get to know everyone.”

Xaja nodded, frowning slightly to herself as she gazed out at the stars beyond Alderaan. “All assuming none of the other cells were compromised.” With no contact to Sorand, or her father, or Doc, she was worried for their safety. And if they had heard of the attack on Dantooine, they had to be frantic.

“If there had been another raid, I’m pretty sure it would have come through to our comms,” Jorgan finally said. “Or it would have hit the broad HoloNet channels. Republic comms have already been blowing up with chatter about Dantooine — apparently we’re down to maybe two or three straggler Jedi in the Republic now, as far as anyone who isn’t on this ship knows.”

“Hmm. The longer they think we were killed, the better our odds of being able to get by without actually dying,” Theron muttered.

And the more likely my family has a collective heart attack, Xaja thought as she turned her focus to Alderaan. The planet thrummed with life in the Force, tangible to Xaja’s senses despite being in orbit. At this distance, she couldn’t focus enough to identify life forms on the surface. But for a moment, she swore she felt a flicker against her senses from a familiar signature, one tinged with both bright light and dark shadows. Sorand? “And the sooner we’re on the surface,” she murmured, “the sooner we can tell the resistance that we’re not dead yet.”

“We’ll be on the surface in under a standard hour.” Malcom nodded once, sharply. “I suggest you make yourselves scarce until we’re ready to get you offloaded. The Star Fortress doesn’t usually order ship searches, but I wouldn’t put it past them.”

In an empty alcove near to the entrance to Organa Castle, Sorand watched as an older woman was escorted through the cave by Vector. Even at a distance, he could sense her considerable strength in the Force, and the tight discipline that she exercised over it, enough to earn the envy of any Jedi. The Sith stepped out of the alcove, inclining his head in greeting. “You must be Senya Tirall,” he said.

“And you must be Darth Imperius.” Tirall offered him a shallow bow, which he answered with a nod. “I’ve heard much about you.”

“I expect there’s a few stories about me circulating around the galaxy,” Sorand acknowledged, a slight smirk twitching across his lips. He looked to the side where Lana and Korin stood behind him. “Allow me to introduce my brother, Captain Korin Taerich, and my advisor, Lana Beniko.”

“Of course. Even Zakuul has heard impressive stories about the Voidhound. And Lord Beniko -- your reputation precedes you.” Tirall nodded to each of the ones Sorand named. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Lana answered. “Though... I trust you’ll forgive our collective curiosity as to how a such highly-ranked Knight of Zakuul came to sympathize with the resistance.”

“I’m sure you have many questions.” Tirall’s small smile softened her pale blue eyes. “I’m willing to answer as much as I can. While I may be one of the only Zakuulans to leave the service of the Eternal Throne, I’m not the only one who believes our home is in the wrong.”

Korin raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight to Sorand’s left. “And here I thought that all Knights were devoted to the Throne an’ whoever’s ass is parked in it.”

“Not all of us blindly support Arcann.” That was a slight bite to Tirall’s voice. “Tyranny is not what our people have stood for. I would hate to see my homeworld become permanently associated with dictators and conquest.”

“Your kind is rare,” Lana acknowledged, eyebrows raising. “Although I suppose if you were a loyalist to Zakuul, you wouldn’t have earned Satele Shan’s respect.”

“No. Even with the Jedi all but defeated, Master Shan is something of a respected legend among Zakuul’s ranks.” Tirall smiled slightly. “It was an honour to meet her in a relatively peaceful circumstance.”

“How did that meeting come about?” Sorand asked, curiosity striking him. “The greater part of the resistance knows nothing about you, and I have not been on-world long enough to meet anyone of the Organas.”

“We met on Jedha. She was trying to find her son who had gone MIA in the war, and I was seeking Jedi teachings on mind healing.” Tirall frowned slightly. “When I found nothing, she suggested I come here. She herself went to Voss to pursue another lead.”

Does she know…? Sorand exchanged a quick glance with Lana, then Korin, before looking back to the Zakuulan. “Did she identify her son’s name?”

“No. I looked through a list of Republic missing and dead with her, but Shan is apparently a common name.” She shook her head ruefully. “Of course, after arriving here I began to hear rumours that her son is the reported terrorist from the Spire, Theron Shan.”

“The reported terrorist? Do you believe the accusations are true?” Lana questioned.

Tirall spread her hands. “I dislike the idea that someone would attempt to cause an act of terrorism to my home. But, unlike the rest of my people, I do not immediately jump to the first thing that Arcann says. He…” She paused, pursing her lips for an instant. “It isn’t unheard of for him to alter the truth to garner public support. Of course, releasing the assassin who killed Valkorion could be considered terrorism…”

“War crime, maybe. Terrorism seems a bit excessive.” Korin shrugged. “D’you think the stories about the assassin are true?”

“Someone killed Valkorion. And the reports say he was alone with Arcann and the assassin at the time of his death. For how strong Arcann is, I doubt he could have killed his father like that.” Tirall frowned. “The assassin, Taerich… she is your sister, is she not?” she asked, looking at Korin and Sorand.

“She is,” Sorand confirmed. “And the idea of her being a cold-blooded murderer is inconsistent both with her personality, and with the rules of the Jedi Code she swore to uphold.”

“She’s got the skill to,” Korin agreed. “I ain’t ever seen her lose a lightsaber duel. But if she killed Valkorion, she had a reason to. She woulda killed if she’d felt threatened, or panicked.”

“Master Shan said the same thing when I asked her about it,” Tirall murmured. “Considering she said she had trained your sister, she would know the most about her prowess, and her personality.”

“Yep. If the charges had been for sucker-punching Valkorion in the gonads, yeah, we’d believe it easier.” Korin grinned as Sorand shook his head. “Half ‘cause that’s all she would prob’ly be able to reach.”

“Classy,” Sorand muttered at his unrepentant brother… even if he knew that Korin was right and Xaja would have gleefully taken any opportunity to harm Vitiate -- Valkorion -- whatever his real name was. “My apologies, Knight Tirall.”

“Please, call me Senya.” The Zakuulan looked between both brothers, and the advisor standing between them. “I’ve heard a rumour that she and Shan have both gone missing again, with Master Shan. What happened?”

“We believe that Zakuulan forces attacked the hideout they sought refuge in.” Lana glanced at Sorand, then continued. “Three days ago, we received a distress signal, but haven’t heard anything since. I’ll be dispatching one of our scouts to their last reported location.”

“If Arcann had captured or killed them -- especially Master Taerich -- it would be all over the HoloNet by now. He does enjoy bragging.” Senya’s blue eyes narrowed in thought. “If they have been captured, I may be able to help you rescue them. I can provide information on Zakuulan protocols for detainment and transport of prisoners of war. ”

“And you would help rescue accused war criminals?” Korin asked, his earlier humour fading into a creased brow and grimly-set jaw.

“I would rather meet your sister and Master Shan’s son before I cast any judgement on them. As I said: it is not unheard of for Arcann to obscure the facts he delivers to suit his own means.” Senya’s eyes flashed. “Like the rest of my people, and likely yours, I want the truth of what happened.”

Sorand slowly nodded, deciding he rather liked the Zakuulan woman. “Then we welcome any information you’re willing to provide. Come; we may as well sit and be comfortable while discussing this.”

“… swear to the stars, Captain, you bring me another kriffing waste of bolts again and I’ll sell your ship to Ugnaughts,” Kothe snarled at Kaliyo as they entered the Shadow-masquerading-as-the-Duchess’s hangar, gifting a scowl over his shoulder to the lurching loader droid behind him.

“You want a better droid? Then start paying for it,” Kaliyo snapped. “I ain’t working for cheap, old man.”

“You’re already getting paid more than you’ve earned,” Kothe growled. “Keep it up and I’ll switch my services to the Wookiee.”

“You won’t. You like checking Lia out too much to do that,” came the snarky retort. Kaliyo looked over her shoulder with a grin at Vette, bringing up the rear of the group with an expression of long suffering. “Ain’t that right?”

“Don’t you go bringing me into this,” Vette snapped, watching out of the corner of her eyes as the Zakuulan Knights guarding the hangar exchanged a look through their helmets.

“Aww, you still mad about me sellin’ off your other cousin to Drooga?” Kaliyo flashed her teeth in a grin as one of the Knights took a step forward.

“You put me down as collateral in a pazaak game!” Vette shouted, lekku twitching dangerously. The Knight promptly seemed to decide he wasn’t getting paid enough to get involved in this and withdrew, his companion taking a couple of steps to the side. “You don’t kriffing own me!”

“So?”

Kothe sighed, subtly waving his hand at the Knights as the trio walked up to the ship. Both Zakuulans shifted, then turned away from the group, apparently deciding they weren’t worth the trouble. “You decide you want a new job, kid, look me up. My vices don’t include gambling.”

“Sure they do. Why else do you keep getting this model of loading droid?” Kaliyo grinned as she gestured at the droid. “Up you go, Rusty.”

Rusty? Reanden grouchily thought to himself as he trudged past Kothe and Vette. Never minding that his legs ached with maintaining the droid’s lurching stride — he swore literal rust on his joints would probably hurt less. But admitting that would be admitting he was growing old… and he was certainly not doing that.

Feeling the weight of a datapad in his jacket pocket with his own connection to the transmitters wired into the Zakuulan bunker, he made it up the ramp and lurched to the bridge of the Shadow. SCORPIO looked over as he came to a halt behind the captain’s seat. “You somehow kept yourself from getting shot,” she commented as she resumed typing into the navicomputer. “I suppose your ideas aren’t quite as stupid as they appear.”

“The threat to turn you to scraps and sell you to Jawas still stands,” Reanden growled as he dropped the disguise with a blink and settled into his seat with a soft groan. His hip wasn’t quite as forgiving of the droid lurch as it had once been, or of crawling around through maintenance tunnels. “Any updates?”

“Lord Imperius and Captain Korin have arrived on Alderaan. Intercepted transmissions from the Republic suggest that the Dantooine Enclave was destroyed.” SCORPIO glanced over as Reanden felt his heart drop to his boots. “Yet I have intercepted no transmissions indicating so from Zakuulan forces. The Eternal Empire’s forces in this system seem to have gone quiet.”

If she were dead, Arcann would be gloating to the entire galaxy. She has to still be alive. Reanden rested his head in his hands for a minute, fighting to keep the fear from overwhelming him. “Any news from the Empire?” he finally asked.

“Very little. Imperius remains at the top of the most wanted bulletin, and you, Agent, aren’t far behind. Your associates, Lieutenant Temple and Agent Emrys, have disappeared completely into the Ascendancy. I received an encrypted message, indicating that they are safe for now. Koli’arr was dispatched to bring Imperius in.”

That, at least, was good news. The bounty hunter known as A’den Koli’arr was, in fact, family friend and associate, Corey Black. Reanden knew well where Black’s true allegiances lay. The news of his protege, Adela Emrys, and the youngest member of his crew, Raina Temple, gaining refuge with the Chiss was also welcome information. Raina had maintained her commission in the Expansionary Defense Force, and Adela had earned the… trust… of Aristocra Saganu. Between their wits and his influence, they would be quite safe.

Finally, he nodded and pulled the datapad out of his pocket, passing it to SCORPIO. “Wire that into the systems,” he directed as the droid took the device. “We’ll be better able to track Zakuulan communications with this.”

“Very well.” SCORPIO started typing as boot steps sounded on the ramp before Reanden heard the distinctive whirr of the ramp retracting into the ship. Kaliyo and Vette must have boarded. “Where is our next destination?”

Reanden frowned in thought, barely looking up to nod approvingly at Vette when she poked her head into the bridge with a grin. “Alderaan,” he finally said. “We’ll rendezvous there with the resistance and figure out our next steps.”

“Very well, Agent.”

The Zakuulan woman certainly seemed nice enough. Senya Tirall was a mystery; Sorand had the suspicion that she was hiding something big. And secrets from a Zakuulan who claimed to not support Arcann’s tyranny was something that made him worry.

But if she had earned the respect and trust of Satele Shan, perhaps she wasn’t a threat. Sorand had only met the Jedi Grand Master briefly during the Revanite crisis, but she struck him as intelligent, and discerning. If Master Shan approved of Senya, then maybe Sorand’s paranoia was just making a nuisance of itself.

He frowned. That heightened sense of paranoid suspicion that he had inherited from his father, and refined over the years spent among the Sith, hadn’t failed him yet. Senya, he felt, wasn’t a danger, per se. But she was hiding something, something significant that—

If his paranoia hadn’t failed him, his sensory awareness certainly did. Sorand grunted as he collided mid-step with a human woman. “Sorr—” he started to say, before he got a look at the woman’s face and felt the blood drain from his own. For a second, he swore he was looking at a face he hadn’t seen in the world of the living since he had been ten years old. “Mum?” he breathed out.

As the woman’s brows drew together, Sorand belatedly caught up to the differences between the stranger in green Jedi robes and his memories of his mother. This woman’s eyes were hazel, not deep green… she lacked the same freckles across her nose that Airna Taerich had… the nose was wrong, and the chin was just a bit off, and the lightsaber that hung at her hip was a different build. But if Sorand’s mother had had a sister, he would have sworn this was her, if not his mother returned from an untimely death herself.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, feeling his throat tighten with old grief as his mother’s lookalike opened her mouth. “My apologies, Master Jedi,” he quietly said, sounding less like a Dark Lord of the Sith and more like a spooked young adult. “Excuse me.” Neatly stepping out of the reach of the Jedi’s outstretched arm, he hurried off down the cave tunnel. For someone who had had far too much experience in encountering ghosts, malevolent or otherwise, he felt like he had walked right into his mother’s apparition. And that was not a pain he was willing to face today.

Behind him, Master Bel Iblis stared after his back, mouth falling slightly open. She had planned to encounter Darth Imperius and Captain Korin, determined to see if they had turned out like their mother, her late cousin… or the Imperial bastard who had stolen Airna away from Corellia. But whatever she had expected from Imperius, she hadn’t expected that.

Now that she had been close enough to get a read on him, she was startled at how much his mother’s son he was. It wasn’t just his strength with the Force; Airna’s youngest son had inherited his mother’s slim build, the bone structure in her face, the same way her hair had parted. She had few memories of Reanden Taerich, but she could already see that the Sith had inherited his father’s dark hair and eyes, and the same set to his jaw — not to mention the height. And then there was the too-noticeable Imperial accent. Rumour had it he inherited a similarly vicious streak when provoked as well, and the same cunning intelligence.

But the soft tone to his voice, his polite manners even when startled— no, spooked, his caution; those, Mairen thought, were all his own. For a second, she could forget that Airna’s son was Darth Imperius, Dark Lord of the Sith and renegade member of the Dark Council. Sith weren’t supposed to be that quiet or polite.

She nodded slowly, still looking in the direction that the Sith had vanished down. She was going to have to attempt meeting her cousin’s youngest son again, and this time see if she could talk to him without him paling like he had seen a ghost.