#the many failings of kal skirata

[thelightismine]

having recently re-read the Republic Commando books for the fiftieth time (but the first time as a proper adult), amongst many other things that jumped out at me this time, I've been pondering the Many Failings of Kal Skirata™ - and one thing that kept me awake the other night was the realisation that...it takes Kal ages between adopting Ordo and the rest of his brothers, right??

So I went back and did the math. Kal adopts Ordo in True Colours, soon after rescuing Vau on Mygeeto, at 471 days after the Battle of Geonosis (ABG). An excerpt from the scene below:

"I never adopted you formally," Skirata said. It had been bothering him in recent days, ever since he began to think of the war as having a definite timescale. "Any of you." "Does that matter?" Skirata now felt that it did. No Mando'ad would nitpick over the bond between him and his boys, and as far as the Republic was concerned clones didn't even qualify as people, but his plans to give them a decent future had now become very, very specific. [...] "Yes," he said. He reached to grasp Ordo's hand and recited the short, no-frills gai bal manda - "name and soul," all it took to unpick history and give a child a new parentage. Mandalorians were habitual adopters. Bloodlines were just medical detail. "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Ordo." Ordo stared at their clasped hands for a moment. He had a crushing grip. "I've been your son since the day you first saved my life, Buir." "I think you boys did the saving," Skirata said. "I don't want to imagine where I'd be without you." Skirata was now busy hating himself for not doing this before, not making the ultimate commitment, and he fretted about his five other Nulls scattered around the galaxy.

And having re-read this section in detail, it now baffles me even further that it takes him - wait for it - ANOTHER YEAR AND ~THREE MONTHS to adopt the other five Nulls??

Yes, that's correct. Kal adopts the other five Nulls in Order 66, in the scene where they all come together 'on screen' for the first time, which is set 940 days ABG. That is 469 days after he formally adopted Ordo.

At the time KT wrote these books, according to Legends, one standard year is 368 days, with 12 months of 30 days each. If I've crunched correctly, Kal adopts the other five Nulls roughly fifteen and a half months later than Ordo.

And OHHHH:

The meal was as much a rare celebration as a meeting, and the Nulls even had a few glasses of Chandrilan wine. "I should have done this many years ago, adi'ke." Skirata raised his glass. "Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad - Mereel, Jaing, Kom'rk, A'den, Prudii. There. It's formal, legal. You're my sons and heirs." "And we won't bankrupt you," Jaing muttered. "Not with the amount you're skimming, ner vod," Mereel said raising his glass in return. "Thank you, Buir'ika. An honor." At least one cause for guilt had been lifted from Ordo's shoulders. He was no longer the only Null formally adopted by Skirata. It was a legal detail, nothing more, but Ordo didn't want to be singled out as the favorite. He already felt he had a far easier time than his brothers.

what do you MEAN you just went on and forgot to do it, despite seeing them and speaking to them regularly for over a year, Kal?! yikes

Reading this back again, all I could think was - poor Ordo. It's explicitly stated here that he had been feeling and still feels guilty. Imagine living with the knowledge that your father had only formally adopted you, and not the other five of your closest brothers, for OVER A YEAR- (I will keep yelling it I'm not over it)

When they all make jokes about him being the Number One Son. When they all tease him for being the favourite. How do you think this knowledge affected Ordo’s relationship with his brothers?? Not wanting to mention it?? Do you think he ever did?? How do you think they reacted if they knew he was already adopted prior to this??

Not to mention, how does Kal not see this as something that might cause an issue for Ordo?? With how much he loves him??

I find their reactions interesting, because if they didn't know, they play it very cool. I'm leaning towards they did know, Ordo didn't just sit on this knowledge for over a year, maybe couldn't - because otherwise, why is no one asking why Kal left him out of the list? Why is their only reaction calm pleasantries?

Possibly because they don't care about formal adoption that much - it's worth noting Ordo's reaction is also to kind of brush it all away: "I've been your son since the day you first saved my life, Buir."

(I think it also opens up a bigger discussion about Ordo's role within his brothers as...almost a shield between Kal and his brothers, able to take the brunt of Kal's...manipulations to spare them the same attention - I wonder if they don't care as much about their adoptive status because it doesn't mean nearly as much to them as it does to Kal, because Kal doesn't rule them as much as he'd like to think he does. It’s interesting how Ordo is both uncomfortable with the position as Number One Son but also sees its…strategic value?? He states earlier in the scene that he'll swap drafts with Kom'rk because it's "his turn" to explore the Outer Rim, but as far as we know, he never actually does this - despite missing each other dearly, often, do the other Nulls willingly take missions that get them away from Kal? Which is why Ordo is almost never shown being anywhere that Kal isn't? Also the irony that so many people laugh at Maze for being a highly trained ARC being "wasted" in an office job, but Ordo also as far as we see never does anything flashier, nothing that couldn't be handled by a less superior officer, nothing that's far from Kal's side...)

ANYWAY

I’m just baffled as to how Kal didn’t think immediately after adopting Ordo “and now the other five” - my man, what took you so long?? If you love them all as you say you do??

HMMMM

[cienie-isengardu]

My RepCom Musing: The use of “psycho” and “crazy” and similar terms

Not sure where my research will ultimately lead me as I’m still collecting data how RepCom book series treated the potential mental illness and/or the perception of the “psycho” characters - something I've been meaning to write for some time in regard to Walon Vau and Sev, but for now I would like to share a few observations made so far:

There is a visible difference in how Walon Vau and Kal Skirata approach the topic of potential mental illness of their clone commandos, which I think fits their introvert and extrovert natures well. As far as I can say, Walon in general is not talking with outsiders about his men’s mental state - he acknowledged (think) Sev is “psychotic” and lacks “the most basic social graces“ [True Colors] or confronted Scorch about his breakdown [Order 66] but we don’t see him revealing much of their traumas or how horrible was their training to anyone who wasn’t already a part of said training program (and we know that Vau and Skirata argued about that a lot). In contrast, Skirata talked surprisingly a lot to other characters about what happened to Ordo/Nulls or occasionally to Omegas, usually to explain why his sons act in this way. This happened with Etain and Obrim and even Fi, though how Ordo feels about his trauma being talked with “outsiders” is not really brought by narrative. 

Granted, both men are using different frames from what they count normal (good) - Vau is operating in the good soldier zone (as being a soldier has a special meaning for him related to his own fucked up childhood) while Skirata focuses on family life (something he failed at once and many clones may never have a chance to experience) but that is a topic for another time.

Similarly, Delta Squad and Atin(?) are rarely seen calling other characters as the psycho, especially in a negative way. Scorch did use that name for Sev, but either Deltas were in their own company or Scorch made an observation about his brother’s behavior as he was worrying about him a lot in Order 66. Frankly, as far as my research showed, Deltas did not call Walon Vau the “Old Psycho” but they did at least twice called Skirata “crazy” (True Colors and Order 66). Interestingly, the majority of “psycho” and “crazy” terms - in context of mental illness / dangerous behavior - used by clones alone in the books comes from Omega (those members originally trained by Kal) and Nulls. 

Old Psycho, as a nickname for Vau was used twice (or so I assume) by Fi and once by Mereel. Bonker Squad as a nickname for Nulls was used by Fi and Darman/Niner and Skirata who coined this term. 

  "Your buddy ... ," Darman teased.

    "Rather have him for a friend than an enemy."

    "Ooh, he likes you. Hobnobbing with ARC officers from the Bonkers Squad, eh?"

    "We have an understanding," Fi said. "I don't laugh at his skirt, and he doesn't rip my head off."

    Yes, Ordo had taken a shine to him. Fi hadn't fully understood it until Skirata had taken him to one side and explained just what had happened to Ordo and his batch on Kamino as kids. So when Fi had thrown himself on a grenade during an anti-terrorist op to smother the detonation, Ordo had marked him out as someone who'd take an awfully big risk to save comrades. Null ARCs were psychotic-bonkers, as Skirata put it-but they were unshakably loyal when the mood struck them. [Triple Zero]

 There are also variations of the “All Nulls are psychos / crazy” statement, quite often coming from Omega, Kal or Nulls themselves. Interestingly, Vau at the beginning of True Colors described them simply as hooligans (rather than psychos) and it was put in contrast to Sev and Vau’s men in general (the good soldiers) while Vau seems to be more prone to call Skirata the crazy one than Nulls. 

Also, it seems like most of the psycho/crazy statements or rumors repeated(?) started with Skirata and was adapted by his men at some point? Like:

mentioned Bonker Squad for Nulls (used solely by him and Omega)

the not best opinion about ARC even if Nulls are the psychos themselves? (“but an ARC who'd gone AWOL was-impossible. Jango Fett had raised and trained them personally, with an emphasis on absolute loyalty to the Republic. Sergeant Kal said that Jango was an unhinged shabuir, but he always stuck to his contract, and that contract had included creating a loyal, totally reliable army. Darman had heard rumors to the contrary, and the Nulls were living crazy proof that a clone soldier could be as eccentric and wayward as any random human, but nothing had ever been confirmed.) As in “Jango was an unhinged shabuir and because he trained ARCs, they are like that too” kind of logic?

And considering that Deltas do not call Walon Vau as the Old Psycho but Fi and Mereel used that nickname, I think it is safe to assume this comes from Skirata too?

Additionally, I made a working diagram - it's not fully correct, as for now I focused on looking for specific phrases (psycho and crazy, bonker or those specific moments that I remembered), but for curiosity's sake I'm posting it in regard to Nulls, Vau and Sev as they are the most prominent characters in regard to “psycho” nickname.

[cabezadeperro]

@clonecumber​ hi!! sorry, it got long so i decided to make it a post.

disclaimer: i don’t like kal skirata, and i wrote my master's and bachelor's thesis on gothic lit, so that's kind of where my brain goes all the time and i know way too much to be normal about it.

while you could argue that the clones generally speaking are very easy to analyse and engage with from a gothic horror point of view (the double is one of THE classic gothic tropes, ffs), i think that in the case of the nulls things get more complicated and more interesting and more gothic, because you have to take into account kal skirata’s everything.

the gothic as a mode and a genre is incredilby hard to define: you have classic gothic, with its incestuous families and southern european castles and its depraved monks and its ghosts, and then there’s. idk. dracula and frankenstein and interview with the vampire and we have always lived in the castle and so on and so forth, but some of the more common themes are: family and the home as prison and safe place, alterity and what it means, the returning past, and boundaries and their permeability.

skirata’s main obsession is family. family is incredibly important for him: he wants a clan to call his own, and he wants his clan to be and live in very specific ways. a farm-fort on mandalore, every single member and their wives and children under its roof, etc.

his first wife left him because she was “too foreign” and therefore she refused to understand and submit to mandalorian tradition, and his children chose their mother over him. skirata then decides to adopt the nulls, and they replace the family he thinks failed him, because that’s how he sees it and the way we’re supposed to see it as well--even if kt halfheartedly attempts to show the other point of view in order to make him seem more complicated and tortured.

and then you have the nulls. strange little boys created in a lab using the best parts of a man kal skirata admires despite himself, jango fett; someone who’s considered to be the best at what they do (the best mando beroya and the former mand’alor, to boot). and they’re alone and vulnerable, so of course he swoops in and adopts them and proceeds to make sure they will never leave him. at first because they can’t: they need him, and he’s in a position of power over them; and then they just won’t, even if they’re all to some degree aware about the kind of man kal skirata is, and the way he sees them (it’s pretty incredible, how many times skirata says the nulls are psychotic and insane and uncontrollable).

like all clones, the nulls are the uncanny doppelgangers of a man who’s already dead, and like all clones, they embody this dead man’s revenge; they’re jango fett’s ghosts enacting his will. returning past, eat your heart out, etc.

and then there’s the family stuff. skirata sees the nulls as his sons; that means they’re his. the nulls see themselves the same way. i think that for them he’s both prison and safe place? they’re alive because of him and i think that he loves them, but his love is very conditional and they know it. them remaining a part of skirata’s family implies complying with his worldview; they can’t be too other, or they’ll lose him.

i could go on and on but this already got long enough sorry lmao. i hope it makes sense!!!!!

[jonathananubian]

Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot [Star Wars/Mandalorian Fanfic]

Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot:  Family is more than an echo of the past.

Summary: When a Jedi artifact sends Din somewhere else the poor man is disoriented and confused. He has no idea what’s going on or why the lights were suddenly so bright. He plans on keeping a low profile and scouting out this new place until he hears the sound of a young voice crying out in pain. Harsh words that should never be spoken to a child follow the sound of another blow and Din can’t help but to intervene.

Characters: Din Djarin, CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567, Dred Priest, Jango Fett, Mij Gilamar, Kal Skirata.

Tags: Force Shenanigans, Protective Din, BAMF Din, Clone Cadets, Cuy’val Dar Dred Priest, Time travel, Not beta-read. (Now a chapter fic.)

Warnings: Child abuse, violence, cursing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32481793

Spots danced across his vision as Din let out a low groan. His entire body felt as if it had fallen asleep, the pins and needles making him twitch and wince behind his helmet. Lifting his head he quickly glanced around for any signs of life before letting out a relieved sigh too low for the helmet speaker to pick up. Slowly sitting up he stared at the unfamiliar white walls around him and frowned in confusion.

This was not the damp old cave he’d found himself in earlier that cycle.

The last thing he remembered was stumbling and falling through a wall that should have been solid, but wasn’t. The walls changed from a damp old cave tunnel to a stagnant aired cavern with carved pillars. It looked exactly like the kind of thing Luke had asked him to look out for on his jobs so he’d cautiously made his way up the steps to the small altar at the top.

As he strode forward lights burst into life around him, startling him into reaching for his weapons. When nothing happened he relaxed his death grip on his spear and let out a small sigh of relief.

Resting in an indent in the elaborately carved stone was an orb that was smaller than his palm. It seemed opaque at first but the longer he stared at it, wondering if he should touch it or not, the clearer it became. Inside were dancing flecks of color that swirled together like an infinitesimal galaxy, almost hypnotic in the way they reflected the light.

Warily he reached for the orb, knowing that there was an inherent danger in anything touched or made by Jedi magic. Picking it up he tensed for something strange to happen, though Luke had told him most artifacts didn’t react to someone who was both force null and encased in beskar. When nothing happened he gripped the orb more firmly and carefully made his way back the way he’d come.

Of course it was just his luck that nothing ever went quite the way he expected.

There was a loud rumble as everything began to shake around him. He could hear the cracking of stone and looked up as sharp stalactites fell from the ceiling toward him. Diving out of the way he hissed in alarm as his grip on the orb proved weak.

The orb clattered to the ground and he sucked in a sharp breath as it rolled a few feet away from his outstretched hand. Scrambling to his feet he darted forward to grab it- but was too late.

Another chunk of rock detached from the ceiling and he watched it fall as if in slow motion.

The sound of the orb shattering was loud in the sudden silence that followed.

Then Din saw white.

Now here he was, stalking the white halls of the strange facility as he tried to figure out what in the Ka’ra had happened. Oh, he knew it was force osik. Din just didn’t know what kind of force osik. Luke had never been the best at explaining it in terms he understood and after the many long lectures he’d kind of started to tune it all out.

Checking around another bland corner into another junction that looked exactly like every other one he’d passed Din was about to dash across the open space when a sound was picked up by his helmet.

It froze him in his tracks, entire body stiff and ears straining just in case he’d misheard.

“Pathetic! Absolutely useless! Quit that bitching or I will twist off your head and shit down your neck!” The voice was rough, masculine, and yelling at a volume that was near impossible to miss.

But that wasn’t what Din was focused on.

The sound of a child trying and failing to muffle their cries of pain made his heart race in his chest and his blood boil in his veins.

Without a single thought to the consequences he pushed himself away from the wall and stalked down the hall the noise had come from, hands clenched at his sides.

“Did I say you could step out of line CC-2224? Get back in line before I put my boot so far up your ass you can spit shine it!” The more Din heard the faster he walked until he was practically belting down the long hallway.

“And you! You have the coordination of a one winged mynock tripping on spice! A defect like you wouldn’t know how to-" Slamming his hand down on the pad the door slid open to a large training room.

Din’s chest heaved as he took in the small forms standing around a circle in matching uniforms, not one of them taller than his waist. Near the center of the group was an armored man with one large hand around the neck of a blonde child, pinning them against the mats as they scrabbled to escape. There were recent bruises on the child’s face and blood running from their nose.

Din saw red.

“Demagolka!” He snarled, spear already in his hands as he stalked forward like the deadly hunter he was.

“Who the fu-” The man never got a chance to finish his sentence before Din was on him.

The guy put up a fight, Din would give him that, but he clearly hadn’t kept up with whatever training he’d been raised with.

Din on the other hand? He’d been training since his buir saved him during the Clone Wars. Had fought on the front lines during the Purge, and killed a Greater Krayt Dragon.

In the end the demagolka was dead with Din’s spear shoved up into his ribcage through a gap in his armor.

The children stared at him, looking too scared to move, as Din stood over their former tormentor. Pulling his spear out of the quickly cooling corpse he set it onto the ground and turned to regard the small blonde child.

Some time during the fight one of the older children had rushed forward and pulled the injured child away, cradling the blonde to their chest. As Din came closer the two of them flinched, holding fast to one another and trying desperately not to cry. Din stopped a few feet away and crouched so he wasn’t towering over them.

“Hey there. I’m not here to hurt you, I swear.” The children stiffened, their faces scrunching up slightly in confusion.

Din looked between them and frowned. The ade were very similar in appearance and he was fairly certain they were brothers. Not twins, one of them was at least a year or two younger, but definitely related.

But where had he seen a face like that before…

Din pushed the thought away. It was irrelevant to the situation at hand. Reaching into the pouches on his belt he slowly pulled out a small medical pack and showed it to the children. “It’s just some alcohol wipes and bacta spray. I want to make sure they’re okay. Will you let me?” He motioned toward the blonde who in turn looked up at their potentially elder sibling.

The child watched him for a moment, amber eyes intelligent and sharp, before they flicked over to the body of the fake Mandalorian. After a moment or two of silence the child turned back to him and nodded curtly.

Din’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Thank you.” Getting closer he knelt in front of the children and opened the package in front of them. Taking out the alcohol wipe he gently ran it over the boy’s face, making a low noise of reassurance when the child flinched and let out a hiss of pain. “Hey, you’re doing good kid.” He soothed quietly as he checked the rest of their bruises. He had to hold back another flash of anger at the sight of a handprint that almost completely encircled the slender neck.

He should have inflicted a lot more pain on the demagolka.

“There you go, kid, feeling a bit better?” The child blinked dark brown eyes up at him and hesitantly nodded. Din reached over and ruffled their short cropped hair. “Mandokarla.” He said warmly.

The child let out a surprised squeak and ducked further into the arms of their ori’vod, who frowned up at him in confusion. Din got to his feet and looked around at the other children, looking for any further injuries, and paused as the strangeness of their appearance finally registered.

Every single one of them shared the same features.

It wasn’t exact, he was observant enough to notice small differences, but they were all so similar it was unsettling.

Then it clicked.

Clones.

Just like Boba.

The very thought made Din’s mind race. Had the last remnants of the Empire somehow gotten hold of Boba’s dna and re-started their clone army? Din thought they’d moved on to the damned droid troopers and attempting to use Grogu’s blood to give them access to Jedi magic. Did they bring back the clones because Moff Gideon had failed?

As the children continued to watch him warily one of them finally stepped forward. “Sir?” They said, voice shaking slightly.

Din snapped out of his thoughts and turned toward the child. “Yes?” He said softly. Clones or not they were just children. Injured, scared, children.

“What are your Orders, Sir? A-are you our new Sergeant now?” The child stood stiffly, arms at his sides even as his bottom lip trembled with nerves.

Din melted at the sight.

“No orders.” He said quietly, still worried he might spook the lot of them. “And I’m no one’s sergeant. I’m a Beroya.” He wasn’t sure if the kids knew what that was but he didn’t feel like explaining further. “But I don’t think we should stay here.” He glanced back at the corpse and swallowed the curses that tried to force themselves out of his mouth. “If they have friends then they’ll probably realize they’re dead soon.”

The kids stared up at him in confusion, looking so lost it hurt his soul. “Hey, I’m not going to let someone like that hurt you again. Okay?” He could feel their eyes on him and straightened further. “I swear. I will protect each and every one of you with my last breath.”

“Why?” The child holding onto the blonde asked, tone heated. “We’re just clones.”

Din thought carefully about what to say for a moment before he decided it was best to just tell the truth. “One of my ori’vode, my… elder brothers, is a clone. He’s known as one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy.” Din stared right at the child as he spoke. “He is a person, just like you, and all of you have worth.”

There was a sense of something holding its breath, of tense anticipation, before the child’s eyes began to shine and he gave Din a watery smile. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a door opening behind them alerted Din to uninvited guests.

“What the fuck is going on in here!” An enraged voice that sounded oddly familiar barked behind him.

In an instant Din turned, dove for his spear, and sprang to his feet; placing his body between the unknown voice and the children.

“Stay behind me!” He ordered the children calmly through the speaker of his helmet.

Standing just inside the doorway were three sentients dressed in beskar’gam. Din growled, watching their every move.

Wearing beskar’gam used to mean that someone was an ally. But with all he’d seen in the last few months there was no guarantee that these three were not also demagolkase.

“Who the hell are you? What are you- is that fucking Priest?” The one in the sandy-yellow of vengeance asked in Mando’a, sounding shocked and incredulous.

“Cadets, get away from them! They’re an intruder!” The second one in gold beskar’gam barked at the children, although his voice was filled more with concern than anything else.

Behind him the children shifted anxiously on their feet but didn’t move.

“Leave the ade alone. Your quarrel is with me.” Din growled, gripping the spear tighter.

“Why are you protecting them?” The one in blue and unpainted beskar asked.

“Children are the future.” He stated firmly. “This is the Way.”

There was a long moment of silence before the one in silver and blue reached up to take off his helmet. “Then we are not your enemy.” Without the interference of the speaker Din stiffened as he finally placed the voice. “My name is Jango Fett, House Mereel.”

Dank ferrik, was that Boba’s buir? What the kark kind of Jedi magic was this?

"I think we need to sit down and have a little talk." Boba's buir said, intelligent eyes straying to the nearby corpse of the demagolka. "At the very least I have to thank you for taking out that trash."

Oh. Well... there really wasn't much else he could do, was there?

"Fine." He said lowering his spear. "But I want a medic to check on the ade. Some of them are injured."

Jango Fett's face split into a grin that set off all of Din's danger senses.

"That can be arranged."

[clonewarslover55]

I really like your delta squad headcanons, can you do the same with omega squad please, both SFW and NSFW? ^^

Of course!! My Omega boys need love too!! I made sure to include Corr, even though he wasn’t an “Original member.” 

Also! You can find the Delta Squad relationship headcanons here!

And you can find the Null’s relationship headcanons here!! 

Omega squad relationship headcanons 

Niner 

SFW

Niner is a pretty quiet guy so you won’t know he likes you right away 

He’ll give you looks and be more attentive to you, but he isn’t too obvious 

It would take him forever to ask you out, because he’s secretly shy 

So you’d have to ask him out probably

Once you two get into a relationship he opens up some more 

It takes time, of course, but he opens up eventually

His brothers quickly notice that Niner is suddenly happy and not bemused for once 

So they quickly learn about you, without Niner wanting them to

They’ll randomly show up at your house and Niner is like, “They followed me here. They’re my brothers.” In the most unamused voice you’ve ever heard come from that man

That’s saying a lot, because he always has a bored tone of voice 

Niner of course puts his brothers and duties first 

So he doesn’t see you as much as he wants 

Whenever he comes back from his long Commando missions he makes sure to make up for being away

When he can’t see you he always makes the Nulls check on you 

Mereel is no longer allowed to see you because he keeps flirting and trying to give you scary weapons he stole

The others still give you weapons though 

Sometimes Niner brings you little trinkets or flowers

He always brings sweets, more so for himself then you. He doesn’t tell you that though 

His brothers attempt to be his wingmen, or at least Fi does

Fi is very bad at it, so Niner doesn’t get any better at flirting 

Speaking of flirting. Niner is terrible at it. 

Mereel, the flirting God, tries to help him and even he fails 

Niner’s flirting includes awkward stuttering compliments 

If you fight in the war you get, “You fight good…” Then an awkward shoulder pat 

If you flirt with him or try to seduce his pants right off it it’ll work too we

His dark cheeks will grow darker as he blushes like an idiot 

He isn’t the jealous type, he’s incredibly patient 

He is wonderful at keeping a mask of false emotion on, it’s how he bottles up his emotions 

Niner will talk to you now and then about his issues, but he not often 

His PTSD is terrible, so it will take time for him to talk about it 

Niner will try to take you out on dates and such, but he isn’t big on PDA 

So most dates might just be him cooking dinner for you at your apartment 

Speaking of cooking? He’s amazing at it 

Niner will often talk about Kal Skirata, his eyes lighting up 

Of course one day you’ll meet Kal, who’s Niner’s adoptive father

Niner, like all clones, is very touch starved

He will not admit it. But cuddles are a MUST 

Especially after he has nightmares 

Once Niner falls in love with you, you’ll never forget 

He’ll love you with all of his heart, no matter what 

NSFW

This boy has no experience 

He knows how to have sex obviously, but he’s never done it 

So you’ll have to show him the ropes (Ha ha bondage pun) 

Niner is secretly shy, so you’ll have to help him with that 

Once he gets some experience with you he ruins you 

Niner is a very very fast learner, so once he learns what makes you tick he never forgets 

If you bring up your kinks, he’ll just shrug and be like, “let’s do it.” 

He literally will do anything, he just doesn’t give a fuck anymore 

So whatever you want to do, he’ll do 

Besides public sex. He’s scared he’ll get caught

Niner will not admit he’s kinky, but he is 

You learn right off the bat that he has a giant breeding kink (Like all clones)

He hates it when he can’t cum inside of you. He feels the need to fill you up 

Niner enjoys blowjobs, of course, but he rarely will let you finish him off 

He loves watching you swallow his load and all, but he’d rather breed you 

Niner will do quickies, but he’d rather draw the night of pleasure out

Once he gets experience he learns that he loves making you cum till you nearly pass out 

Niner has amazing patience, like you have no idea how he’s so patience 

So he will dedicate the whole night to your pleasure, and your pleasure only 

You won’t be able to walk the next day but he takes pride in that 

Niner will mark you up, so everyone knows that you’re his 

He doesn’t ever act jealous or that possessive but he is 

If you mark him up he shows it off, especially in the showers 

When his brothers question the marks he just shrugs

He keeps your intimate moments between the two of you, they don’t need to know

Niner is amazing at aftercare, he makes sure to clean you both up 

The night always ends with you falling asleep in the arms of your big Commando sergeant 

Darman 

SFW

Darman is probably the shyest of the group

But once he falls for you, he falls hard 

It’s completely obvious when he begins liking you 

He might nervously ask you out to dinner or something 

Then invite his brothers because he doesn’t want to be too obvious 

His brothers don’t show up because they know what’s up 

Once you two begin dating Darman is wrapped around your finger 

Darman is a huge sweetheart and spoils you with love 

He brings you trinkets and such from missions 

He always brings sweets for you both 

He also will bring you flowers, but on rare occasions 

Darman can’t flirt worth shit either 

Fi and the Null’s try their hardest to help him 

But it only makes him worse 

He’s somehow a worse flirt than Niner. 

If you flirt with Darman and try to woo him some, he will instantly be a blushing mess 

Ever seen a big bad Commando blush like an idiot and hide his face? It’s adorable 

Commando’s, of course, are away for longer periods of time then regular troopers 

So he can’t see you as much as he wishes to 

He also makes the Null’s check on you, and he doesn’t mind that they give you weapons and spoil you 

Obviously he loves his brothers! They’ll always come first in his eyes 

When he tells you about Kal Skirata, he asks if you want to meet him 

He grins like a fool as you meet his father 

He makes sure to spoil you extra, especially after missions 

He tries to cook you dinner, but fails 

Darman tries to be romantic, and he really isn’t 

He will take you out to dinner though! He loves going out to places with you 

He’s nervous about PDA but as long as you’re not a Jedi he’ll do it 

Darman bottles up his emotions well, but he is always willing to talk to you about them 

He gets jealous, but never acts on it 

He is a very chill and relaxed man, so he never really gets angry 

Darman is kind of clingy though 

He’s very touch starved, so he loves the attention 

Especially cuddles!!

Once he falls in love with you he says it first 

He falls in love very quickly by the way 

He’ll love you till the end of his days 

NSFW

This shy boy has no experience 

Please help him and show him how to do stuff 

Like all clones, he’s a very fast learner 

So he learns how to turn you into a moaning mess fairly quickly 

Darman loves hearing you make noises, so he becomes a huge tease 

He has great patience, so it takes a lot of effort on your end to turn him into a mess

When you explain kinks to him he has no idea about any of them 

He’s willing to try most things though! 

Darman is pretty shy, so he won’t really tell you what he wants to try 

When you two try things out, you quickly learn he’s kinky 

You also learn that he’s a switch, but primarily a bottom 

Darman likes pretty much anything 

He won’t fuck in public though, it makes him nervous 

He’s a sweetheart and a giver, so he always makes it about your pleasure 

You’ll cum till you pass out with Darman 

So he loves to take it slow

He loves giving oral, but isn’t the biggest fan of receiving it 

He has a breeding kink, so he’d much rather cum deep inside of you 

Darman always asks if he can cum inside of you, because he’s polite like that 

He doesn’t like quickies, he doesn’t have enough time to tease you 

Darman loves his intimate nights with you! He always makes sure to end them with you asleep in his big strong arms 

Atin 

SFW

Kal Skirata didn’t teach his Commando’s shit about romance 

Luckily for Atin, he was trained by Walon Vau. Who made sure they knew about romance 

Atin is very quiet, and always seems like an outsider from the others 

When he gets a crush on you he tries to avoid you because of FeeliNGS

Once he gets over that, he eventually asks you out 

Atin tries to be a huge hardass, but he’s really a simp 

He’ll act like he doesn’t like you that much, when he’s already in love with you 

Once you begin dating he spends as much time as possible with you 

His brothers obviously come first, but you’re still one of his first priorities 

Atin is obviously very damaged from Vau’s training, the many many scars prove that 

You two will have to be dating for a while before he even begins to tell you what happened to him

Atin has a lot of baggage and hates to talk about it, so you’ll have to gain his trust 

Unlike his brothers, Atin can actually flirt pretty well 

He’s smooth as hell and knows it 

The large white scar that runs from under his eye to the opposite side of his mouth makes him more attractive 

And oh boy does he know it 

When he’s away on missions he comms you a lot and tries to stay in contact with you 

He doesn’t make the Null’s watch you while he’s away, he knows you’ll be fine 

Atin may seem dead inside and extremely burdened, but he has a sense of humor 

He jokes now and then, but he isn’t a jokester like Fi 

He is pretty romantic as well, he often plans cute little romantic things for the two of you 

When he cooks dinner it isn’t the best, but it isn’t terrible 

Atin doesn’t give a fuck, so he’ll do PDA 

Sometimes he may bring you little trinkets from missions, but not often 

He shows his love with his actions, not by showering you with gifts 

Being an extremely burdened by dark thoughts and a terrible past, he has nightmares a lot 

Cuddle him and just constantly remind him that he is safe in your arms 

When Atin falls in love with you he won’t say it first, but you can tell immediately by his actions 

Once he falls in love with you, he falls hard. 

NSFW 

Atin doesn’t have much experience 

But it doesn’t show at all 

He’s amazing right off the bat, you hardly have to teach him anything 

He learns all of your favorite spots and such almost immediately 

Atin makes sure to turn you into a mess pretty quickly 

He loves being a huge tease, but he isn’t as patient as the others 

So he doesn’t tease you for too long 

He’s willing to try really anything 

Atin is kinky and will openly admit it 

He will always make your deepest darkest desires come true 

He will do it anytime, anywhere. Atin does not give a flying fuck 

He may seem completely dominant, but he’s actually a switch 

When you get dominant he doesn’t last long at all 

Please top this man if you want to see him moan like a bitch in heat(Pegging or just a good ride.)

!Anal! 

Atin is covered in scars, mainly from the sword of Walon Vau 

If you trace his scars he immediately melts 

He loves it rough, but he is a slut for some soft sex 

Like all clones, he has a breeding kink 

He never really acts on it unless you’re into being breed 

Atin is surprisingly good at giving oral

He loves giving oral, but he especially loves receiving it 

Atin loves making you beg and such, but he’ll do quickies. He just doesn’t enjoy them that much 

He loves aftercare! He loves cleaning you up while you try to remember your name 

Especially nice warm baths or showers!! He just feels that they’re so intimate 

When you fall asleep, you fall asleep in the big strong scarred arms of your favorite Commando 

Fi 

SFW

Fi never shuts his mouth. Ever. 

If you like quiet men look the other way 

Fi is full of terrible cheesy jokes that are actually hilarious 

He never really takes anything seriously either 

Once he gets a crush on you, you’ll know immediately 

He’ll shamelessly flirt with you constantly 

He’ll ask you out for drinks after a few days of terrible jokes and bad flirting 

Fi will fall pretty hard for you, and fast. 

Once you two begin dating he will still flirt and be hilarious 

He thinks he’s smooth but he isn’t. He’s just terribly cheesy 

Fi is surprisingly romantic! He always plans cute little dates for the two of you 

No matter if it’s going out for dinner, or just a simple movie night at your apartment. 

Just don’t let him make dinner, he will start a fire 

You found this out the hard way of course 

He’ll always make the date unforgettable 

He is totally for PDA. It makes him feel like he has a normal life 

Fi is a big sweetheart, and he tries to spoil you 

Fi always brings you home little trinkets from his missions

He loves bringing you sweets! He has a giant sweet tooth, so he always has sweets on him

Fi loves his brothers, and tells you about them often 

He brags about you constantly to his brothers to irritate him 

He also shows off to you, a lot 

When he’s away for awhile he tries to comm you every now and then 

He is a little clingy, so when he finally gets back to you he showers you in affection 

He always tries his hardest to make up for being away for so long 

The Null’s check on you now and then while Fi is gone

Fi covers up his pain and emotions with humor, and it’s kind of obvious 

All he wants is a normal life, and he can never have that. Often you’ll see him staring at families, sadness in his eyes 

He hates talking about his problems, so it will take a lot for him to finally talk to you about his pain 

Like his brothers, he obviously worships Kal SKirata. 

Once you two have been dating for a while you finally meet Kal 

Once Fi falls in love with you, you’re stuck with him forever 

For the love of god please snuggle this boy 

He needs the cuddles 

His brothers quickly become your friends

Fi will always love you, no matter what 

NSFW

Fi doesn’t have experience, so you’ll have to teach him things 

He learns quickly, so it doesn’t take him long to memorize every part of you 

He never takes anything seriously, including sex 

He doesn’t shut his mouth ever. Even during sex

Fi will seem all serious for a while, then he’ll say or do something hilarious 

He is pretty decent at dirty talk 

He loves PDA! It gives him a thrill 

He is a massive tease!! in public especially 

Fi likes it when you beg for him to finally fuck you 

He’s open to trying most things 

So if you’re kinky, so is Fi 

He is a switch, like all clones, but he enjoys being topped more 

Fi thinks you look the best when you’re on top of him

He is amazing at giving oral, so be prepared for that 

He enjoys receiving it, but he’d much rather cum deep inside of you 

Fi never really acts on his breeding kink unless you like being bred 

If you like being bred he’ll cum inside you every chance he gets 

Fi will do quickies and such, but he’d rather have time for intimacy 

He is a huge slut for intimacy 

So Fi prepares soft slow sex over fast and rough 

He still enjoys the rough moments though!!

Fi is great at aftercare, he loves cleaning you two up

He snuggles up to you as you two drift off, his strong arms wrapped tightly around you 

Corr

SFW

Corr was stuck with a shitty desk job when he lost his hands

It made him pretty depressed and such, because he missed his bomb squad brothers 

Once he joins the Omega Squad he perks up immediately!! 

He missed the front lines, and it’s obvious 

If you begin dating him before he joins the Omega’s, you’ll see him every night 

Because he’s stuck on coruscant till the GAR gives him good prosthetic hands

Once he joins the Omega Squad you don’t see him as much, but he comms you often 

Corr loves staying in touch with you, so he’s always comming you 

He doesn’t get good prosthetic hands for quite a while, like after he joins the Omega’s 

When he gets them he shows them off, visibly excited like a child would be 

Corr keeps the fake skin off his prosthetic hands, because he thinks the metal looks cool

He makes you meet the Omega's and the Null’s 

They all love you instantly 

He’s been on Coruscant long enough to not give a shit about PDA 

So he brings you everywhere he can, he loves going out with you!

Corr is a generally cheerful man, you rarely see him down 

He loves telling you about his new Commando missions!! Even if they’re classified 

Corr is the biggest sweetheart in the GAR, he constantly spoils you 

He’ll always bring you flowers or little things he carved from wood or bone 

He spoils you with affection too! He’s always down for cuddles

He is constantly kissing your forehead and knuckles

Corr is actually super romantic! At his old desk job the women there helped learn the way of romance 

Sometimes he’ll cook you dinner, or bake you something! He is an amazing cook 

Corr is a flirt, but he’s smooth as can be 

Mereel trained him in the art of seducing the pants right off of people

So Corr is amazing at it!! 

He winks at you All. The. Time.  

It’s his thing 

Corr obviously has issues and severe PTSD. But what clone doesn’t?

He is 100% willing to talk about it though!! 

Once he can trust you he tells you really everything 

Corr is just super loving, and he makes sure you know that you’re loved every chance he gets 

NSFW

Mereel taught Corr the in’s and out’s of people 

So he knows what he’s doing 

You wouldn’t expect this sweetheart to have that much experience 

So you’re very surprised at how quickly he brings you to an orgasm 

Corr use to be on the bomb squad, he is very patient 

This makes him a huge tease!! He loves watching you writhe beneath him

He also loves drawing as many orgasms from you as possible 

He has very quick moving hands, but since they’re prosthetic they’re not as good as the originals would be 

He often apologies for his metal hands, saying his real fingers were so much better 

If you like temperature play he’ll use his cold metal hands on you 

Corr is kinky as hell, and you learn that pretty quickly 

He brings up the conversation, so he can learn what you’re into 

Whatever you want to try he’ll totally try!! He’s very willing 

Corr will do it anytime, anywhere

He also has no shame, so keep that in mind 

Corr is a switch, so he doesn’t care who's in charge 

Please pegg this man 

He doesn’t have a preferred speed, it all depends on his mood 

So he is totally down for quickies! 

Mereel taught Corr how to dirty talk like a fucking king 

He can make you cum with just his words 

Corr has a breeding kink, but won’t do anything about it unless you’re into that 

He loves giving and receiving oral! 

This man will give you oral every chance he gets, he loves your taste 

Corr is such a sweetie! He loves worshipping you during aftercare 

He loves the intimacy of it all 

Corr loves falling asleep with your limbs entangled with his 

[norcumii]

Idea for Clones: A saying I came up with for a fic I will never write. “One for the ones who fell before. Two are for the ones who walk beside you. Three is for the ones who are yet to come. Four is for the ones who never will. And five is for the ties which bind us all as one.”

For this set of prompts.

I still don’t know what I think about how this came out. It feels like it’s somehow part of the Domino Bad Batch thing, but I have no idea. \_(ツ)_/¯

******

Voln Drezz was one of the stranger trainers on Kamino. Xe was a Kel Dor, endlessly serene behind xir goggles and breath mask. Xe primarily taught them shielding, a weird class that was needed to verify that certain flash trained skills had taken. Trainer Drezz was also terrifying with a staff, so most cadets looked forward to xir classes.

Hevy felt really, REALLY weird running across xir in the tiny lounge on the transport away from Kamino. “Uh, sorry sir, didn’t realize anyone was in here.”

Drezz glanced over, and he thought xe might have been smiling at him? There seemed to be some kind of upward tilt around the eyes, at least. “It’s fine, you are not interrupting anything. I just enjoy watching the stars.”

They were in hyperspace. Stars were more streaky lights than anything useful, but ok. Hevy nodded, trying not to shuffle. He was exploring, because the others were all finding different kinds of trouble to get into, and he needed a break from his squad. Victory in the citadel scenario or not, things sometimes didn’t gel so well between them. “Are you...going on leave, sir?”

“No sirs, not any more. No, with Jedi present on Kamino, my skills were no longer needed, and I was already longing for home.” Drezz shifted to look more at him. “And what of you...Hevy, correct?”

It was always neat, and weird, how xe almost always knew. “We haven’t gotten assignments yet.”

“Ah. Is that why your heart feels restless?”

Riiight, the downside to chatting with a Force user, even though no one seemed to know why Drezz wasn’t a Jedi. Hevy cleared his throat, glancing around for a distraction. Nothing useful, of course. Well, when all else failed, admitting the truth wasn’t that bad. “No, it’s...just Bravo squad being Bravo, you know?”

Drezz sighed, and he was pretty sure xe was rolling xir eyes. “If Bravo isn’t careful, they’ll end up emulating Skirata’s bullies. And the galaxy does not need more bullies.”

Hevy sucked in a startled breath, storing that interesting bit of intel for the rumor mill later. He had no idea what to think of one of the trainers openly declaring disapproval for another’s methods – let alone a trainer with rank like Kal Skirata! – but that was bound to be worthwhile to someone. “Ah, as you say, sir.”

Drezz gave a soft snort. “Why does your heart feel restless, Hevy?”

He took his time sitting down near xir, carefully arranging himself to match the crosslegged position. When he couldn’t stall any longer, he shrugged. “It’s always jokes about how Dominoes fall. Any time one of us trips, or fails a little bit, then someone’s making some dumb comment about how the rest are going down.”

Drezz made a sound, a soft ‘ah hah!’ sort of noise. Xe waited a moment, then reached into one of the many pockets of xir coat. Xe pulled out a long box – wood, maybe? He wasn’t sure; he hadn’t seen wood in person before – and opened it up. “Have you seen one of these before?” xe asked, holding it towards Hevy.

“Boxes? Yeah, few times.” He was trying for ‘not sarcastic,’ but it wasn’t going too well. He got another one of those maybe smiles for it.

“A domino.” Drezz pulled out a small, off-white rectangle out, tossing it at him. “Tell me. Could you break this?”

Ooo, one of those tests. Not ‘break it,’ but just determining if he could. He tried to flex it a little, then shook his head. “Not easily. Too small, whatever it is.”

Xe nodded, and started taking several more out of the box, arranging the little tiles between them. “Small, but sturdy.” Xe stopped with – oh. With five in a row. “All your brothers see is what happens when you push one.” Xe pushed the end domino, and it toppled over, taking the rest down. Hevy flinched. “They see only one possibility.”

Wait, what?

Drezz must’ve seen something in his expression, because xe arranged them back upright. “They don’t see how one may fall, but–” Xe tapped the end domino, but held the middle one upright, stopping the fall of the end two partway. “They’re not seeing how they support each other.” The Kel Dor rearranged them again, now down flat in a pentagon. “How they complement each other.” Another rearrangement, the five stacked into a little tower. “How they build into something stronger.” Drezz looked back at Hevy, and this time he was certain xe was smiling. Xe reached out and tapped the domino he still held. “And how all parts are very, very difficult to break.”

He smiled back. “Thank you for the reminder, sir.”

Another smile, and Drezz bowed xir head at him. “You and your squad remind me of an old saying among my people.” Xe tapped the domino Hevy held, a long claw against one of the – oh! One of the five dots on it. “One for the ones who fell before.” Xe shifted to tap a different one. “Two are for the ones who walk beside you.” On to the next. “Three is for the ones who are yet to come. Four is for the ones who never will. And five is for the ties which bind us all as one.”

Hevy stared down at the little tile, mind racing. It didn’t take much to make connections, not when their every waking moment was training for this sort of thing.

The ones who fell before – Droidbait, who always got tagged first, usually not fatally, but he was stupidly good at finding out where everything was.

Those who walk beside you – Fives, bold and sometimes ridiculous, but reliable, there.

The ones who are yet to come – Echo, always sounding off, sarcastic and clever, ready and able to repeat anything on demand. Always able to take what he’d seen and heard and build it into projections for what would happen.

Four is for the ones who never will – Cutup, not just the one to laugh and crack a joke in the middle of anything, but creative. Wordplay, schemes, he saw things that others didn’t.

The ties which bind us all as one – the leader, the one who managed to pull Domino Squad together, in spite of themselves.

It took some effort, keeping his expression mostly stoic. Hevy finally nodded, glancing up at Drezz. “Thank you,” he managed, holding the domino out to xir.

The Kel Dor gave him another smile, and a bow of the head. “Keep it. It’s yours.”

~end

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 4)

CW: Main character directly killing someone, some implications of food insecurity, animals destroying a corpse. LONG ASS POST beneath the cut.

TL;DR Recap: Niner regroups with the rest of Omega, and is upset by Atin’s perceived callousness towards Darman’s fate. (Although the callousness is actually heartbreaking if you know the entirety of his backstory.) Etain observes the crash site and realizes Republic forces have landed. Darman has his first negative reaction to killing someone.Also, the blogger begins the Kal Count (tm) in this post. 

Starting Kal Count: 0. Ending Kal Count: 2.

So we start off right after Darman’s crash landing into some trees with Niner’s reaction to Darman literally shoulder charging him off a crashing airplane space ship. Rather than being (rightfully) angry, Niner sees the transport they had been on explode, and his immediate thought is that Darman must be dead. But he’s in sergeant mode, so he hurries to gather up what equipment he can and regroup with the rest of Omega.

The g’dan (which again are supposed to be like a foot tall but I’m still imagining as venemous, furry, sharp-teethed gizka because that’s the imagery my brain decided on) do attempt to eat him in the process which gives me one of my favorite small/throw-away lines:

It is really interesting to me how quickly Omega makes character judgements about each other. Niner decides here that Darman would have found the g’dan fascinating (not knowing of course that the g’dan are trying to eat Dar, too). Later Atin tells Etain that Dar is fussy about the wiring on his explosives, which is likely accurate, but also comes after a very short window of association. You could dismiss Niner’s line as projection, but together I think it just kind of drives home how closely clones are able to read one another and how attuned to very small behavioral clues the have to be, having grown up on Kamino the way they did.

Anyway, Niner is slightly distressed by the fact that he’s just lost another squad member, so in what’s going to become an unfortunate pattern, he flashes back to the Words of Wisdom of Kal Skirata. Hard Contact is the only Republic Commando novel not to have a Dramatis Personae, but if it did, it would have to list Kal Skirata even though he physically is elsewhere and uninvolved in the plot. 

Thus begins my Kal Count. We currently stand at 1 Flasback/Words of Wisdom. The immediately after we get:

I wasn’t sure to count this as a separate entry in the Kal Count. But it is a separate memory and topic, so I went ahead. We currently stand at 2 Flashbacks/Words of Wisdom. Also, incidentally, google says that Niner is carrying “nearly” 165 pounds at the moment. The commandos could pick me up and carry me, I’m just saying.

Anyway, Niner is pissed about the grey armor’s lack of disguisability in a rural setting. He meets up with Fi and Atin, and updates them about Dar.

Notice Niner stressing that he didn’t see Darman jump but he didn’t abandon him either. After his conversation with Fi and given his worries about being abandoned in True Colors and Order 66, I really think this is a major hang up/fear of Niner’s.

But Atin is a good deal less... emotional, I guess? about the situation that either Fi or Niner are comfortable with. It’s all an act, but we’ll find that out later in his arc.

Seriously, Niner has a thing about abandonment.

On the other hand, if you’re someone who’s already read Triple Zero and knows that Atin was raised by Vau and knows what Vau did to Atin immediately before this mission and that Atin lost a squad in training as well... this is kind of heartbreaking.

Because he just lost everything, again, his sergeant cut his face open for not being good enough and “wallowing” about the loss, and he remembers what happened when his squad tried to rescue him. The guilt from both incidents has to be terrible- and this is his attempt to deal with it, because what if Vau was right? But neither Niner nor Fi know that yet, so they’re upset with him and he’s not getting the firm shake on the shoulder he needs to let him know that it’s Vau who’s wrong.

Anyway, after that upsetting realization I just had, we skip to Etain with Birhan investigating the crash site of Omega’s transport. 

Today in worldbuilding things that annoy the shit out of Rev: this is the only time Qiilura having its own language ever comes up, and all the characters speak perfect Basic for the rest of the novel. 

“starved”. I’m just saying, Etain is called “gaunt” and “starved” repeatedly through out this book, so... whatever happened in the three months she was on Qiilura before Omega got there, she probably still needs some therapy for it. But at least it makes some sense here, unlike when she’s back on the planet as a General in True Colors and only weighs 100 lbs while pregnant.

Again with the mention of food. Also I 1000% do not blame her for being paranoid at this point, but I’m just saying, Qiilura is probably the place she goes back to in her nightmares. Also probably not the best place to send her while already anxious/afraid/pregnant, even just looking at it from a mental health stand point rather than a “it’s an active fucking battle field” pov, but what do I know.

She sees the remains of the commando’s R5 droid with its republic markings and knows Birhan was right: it’s the Republic. The scene then cuts to Darman, who is waking up from the first of many unfriendly landings involving trees. :)

He’s survived his hostile arboreal encounter and chased off the g’dan who want to eat him, but is realizing that he tore a muscle or tendon somewhere in the leg above his right knee. I am unduly pleased by this specificity because I headcanoned him having a leg injury later in life and now I can just headcanon it as him re-injuring this same spot. I don’t know why that pleases me.

Minor quibbles here: why is it Kilo and Delta first using the HUD with live ordinance when Darman was Theta squad, and he’s recounting his own experience with learning the system? Also, I’m not sure whether to read this as “they got the HUDs and later were trained with them using live rounds which is when it sunk in” or “they got the HUDs and got shot at with live rounds on the same day”.

Anyway, Darman is trying to hide off the side of the road, but the path made by the g’dans who wanted to eat him gives him away, so injured and disoriented, he’s forced to kill two of Hokan’s Weequay militia. I’m not going to screenshot the actual death, but it is important to know that while he head shots the second one, the first he initially attacks by shoving the vibroblade in the Weequay’s throat. The g’dans start eating the second Weequay’s body, because the g’dans are just a thing at this point. Like the sewer smells KT is so fond of in this book.

But anyway, the chapter ends with this fairly emotional scene:

“And he hadn’t managed a clean kill. It was wrong. They had drilled him to kill, and kill, and kill, but nobody had thought to teach him what he was supposed to feel afterward. He did feel something, and he wasn’t certain what it was. He’d think about it later.”

There’s a lot of really great characterization and thematics in this scene. It’s very quietly heartbreaking, but not in a way that calls attention to itself. It also really mirrors a scene Darman gets in the third novel, True Colors, which kind of drives home that this is an ongoing struggle for him.

What I don’t get is why it also directly contradicts a scene later in the book where Etain is struggling emotionally after sending Guta-Nay to his death. In that scene, Darman asserts that he’s already killed people as part of his training (which... really isn’t consistent with the timber of this scene?) and that he’s never had time to think about it. I guess you can handwave it to yourself as Darman refusing to acknowledge what he felt upon killing the Weequay, even to himself, as a result of fear/the values reinforced on Qiilura.

 But Darman is the viewpoint character in that scene, and even though he’s immediately protective of Etain, he doesn’t empathize with her, and it comes off as the narrative yet again being harsh towards Etain and all her failings.

I don’t know. We’ll see if I have more thoughts when we actually get to that chapter.

[jacensolodjo]

Honestly this is like the bare minimum of good leadership and I feel like people only see this part when it comes to Kal Skirata and like not everything else about the clones and the leadership. This is also why the jedi tend to be poor leaders of the clones. They don’t really truly care. They send so many thousands of clones off on missions without even taking their skillset into account. Even Plo Koon for all his better treatment is doing the bare minimum but at least he is doing it more than other jedi. (But again, doesn’t necessarily make him a paragon of leadership virtue.) No Jedi has actually said ‘my unit can’t do this’. They have done the exact fucking opposite. Even Anakin never spared a thought that the 501st was not the best option for the mission. 

With that said... This is also why it is important to me that Jango absolutely displays these traits and more. It may not be canon that he fought for the Alphas, but I believe it would fit the idea he can be a proper Mandalore when he wants to be. A proper Mandalore fights for his people, clones or not, and knows when to admit defeat after a valiant effort to win. Which is why some past Mandalores failed, refusing to so much as bend the knee when outnumbered and outdone and thus securing death for his people rather than so much as have them commit to ba'slan shev'la. Even the Death Watch understood that sacred tool of Mandalorians, even if they hated doing it. In this case, death IS dishonor. When the entire culture is living when everyone else wants you dead there is no honor in dying on your feet instead of living on your knees (for a time). 

[overcaffeinated-creative]

⚰️⚰️ for Jai and Harti because I'm terrible :D

Send ⚰️ for a glimpse of my muse’s funeral

Summary: Jai Vetra’s Death and Funeral as told between himself and his granddaughter.

Rating: T

Warnings: Character Death

Characters: Jai Vetra, Solus Vetra, Harti Wren, Iviin Shysa, Kal Skirata, Vhonte Tervho, Fenn Rau, Ahsoka Tano

Notes: The changes are clearly marked between paragraphs with a back and fourth between Jai and then a snippet of Solus and a Conversation.

(I promise I’ll get to Harti’s soon but I’ve been writing this since like 7 AM and it went on so much longer than expected. It’s 1505 words in an experimental style.)

“Havea drink with me for you ba’buir,” Iviin Shysa suggested whileshoving the bottle into her hands. Old, almost bruised eyes glancedup at him from beneath a white buzz cut. The past week had beencruel. “We’ll celebrate his memory and his name.”

Solusdrank deep before handing the bottle back. “Thank you, ‘Alor.”

Hetook a seat on the bench next to her, knees bumping together. “Nothanks needed. We’re going to handle this as best we can.”

–

JaiVetra would not receive a traditional Mandalorian funeral. What wasleft of Clan Vetra, as well as his followers and friends, would nothave the chance to mourn him together. There would be no gathering inthe early dawn hours to prepare his body for cremation. Solus wouldnot receive his full set of armor to forge into her own nor even apiece of it. As the sunset they would not scatter his ashes thencelebrate his life. There would be no crowd to share food and drinkas music played and stories flowed. Not even a battlefield funeralwould happen in his honor.

–

“Hehated Kamino,” Kal Skirata told her over a comm call at Krownest’smorning. Her sluggish mind supplied it was closer to evening or nighton Mandalore. “Swore the entire planet conspired against him havinga break. They’d beat his door down at the crack of dawn for what heclassified as strill shit.” His tone took a humorous turn, “Whichseemed to be anything less than the end of the Galaxy before his twocups of caf. After those cups it became whatever should’ve beensent to Jango first.”

Theirphone call ran for over an hour much to Solus’ delight. Kal hadnumerous stories to tell about his time with Jai in Cuy’val Dar.Funny quips delivered in passing all the way to her ba’buir’sability to weaponize the chain of command like a true bureaucrat.However, the surreal feeling still nagged at her mind. She only foundout he had been alive all of that time after he died.

Kal’sface shifted when he caught something off in her expression. “Don’tlook so down, Ad’ika. He loved you more than anything in thisGalaxy and so was proud of you. Make sure you always remember that.He did everything for you.”

–

JaiVetra perished a month after the issuing of Order 66 during theUprising of Tipoca City. It went against all expected outcomes. Forhis entire life, he had been known as a survivor. No matter thetrauma inflicted or the impossibility of the odds he survived. It wasjoked he was part Corellian because of it. After Galidraan, everyoneaccepted Death would have to take him  of old age while passed outdrunk. There would be no other way to have a fighting chance. Yet, asKorda Six showed the mortality of Jaster Mereel and Geonosis that ofJango Fett; Kamino became his proof of only being human.

–

“Hewas the architect behind our escape,” Vhonte Tervho whispered inthe late hours of the evening. They sat back to back before the fireplace in the large dining room. Solus could not recall how they endedup that way. “The Empire had the longnecks lock everything down.I’ve never felt so cornered in my life. Neither had the others andit was making us all antsy. Except for Jai. He was just as unshakableas always. Told us to keep doing our jobs and trust him.”

“Ba’buirwas always good at that.” Solus felt tears start to drip down hercheeks. “He did the same thing during the Clan Wars. If someonestarted panicking he’d talk ‘em through it.”

“Then,a couple of nights ago he showed up with this plan. I was part of itand I don’t know how it worked.” Her voice wavered. “All of usthat got out, from the other Mandos to the child clones, owe himeverything.”

–

JaiVetra had never been taken with starfighters but he died in one. Athis absolute prime, he was still incapable of the preternaturalmaneuvers Harti executed. There was never any jealous there, onlylove and awe and respect. Secondhand stories (and in one instance themost terrifying holofootage of the past ten years) told him Soluspossessed the same skills; maybe more so. Yet, he still elected topilot a starfighter for their escape. Transports would need theirbest pilots to protect their precious cargo. For this flight he couldstand guard over their six or clear the way.

–

“TheOld Man was something else,” Fenn Rau told her looking almostsomber. Part of her was still reeling from his surprise visit to theVetra Stronghold. Concord Dawn, and by extension the JourneymenProtector’s, were iffy about the burgeoning True Mandalorians. “Hewas always full of surprise and one of the better ver’alor I’vemet.”

Hersmile came across weak while she muttered, “He hated being calledthat.”

“Ihated being called vaar’ika and that never stopped him.” For amoment, she saw the brazen, defiant man she came to know as Fenn Rauinstead of this somber ghost.

“Takeit as a compliment,” she tried to tease with a limp twitch todrooping ears. “It’s what he used to call Har’ba’buir andmyself. All of his favorite people are small, spitfire pilots.”

“Isee a lot of him you.” Lavender flooded Solus’ face. “Both ofyou are white haired, pains in my ass who could rally anyone foranything.”

–

JaiVetra had been assured he would never die alone but that was exactlyhow he went at age 66. A failed evasion resulted in engine damagethat sent him into an uncontrolled glide to a landing platform.Skittering across the metal he finally slowed to a halt flippedupside down. There was nothing to see past the transparisteel canopy.All he could hear was the muffled firefight outside over his ownrapid heartbeat. Something began to pool around his broken body. Atfirst, he thought it was rain but with cool sensation throughout itcould have been blood as well. Nothing would matter thought becauseit would all be over too soon.

–

“Ja’ikasaid he survived by looking for the light,” Harti mused more tohimself than his granddaughter walking beside him. “He said that nomatter how dark it seemed there would always be a light. He had tostumble for it a few times, maybe even missed the cue , but it wasthere in the end.”

“Itdoesn’t hurt less.” Her shoulders started shaking while sheworked hard to keep pace. “It doesn’t make anything hurt less.”

Hestopped in the center of the hallway to draw her into a warm hug.“Sol’ika,” her murmured into her hair, “now is the mostimportant time to look for the light. We’ve lost so many people,both Mandalorian and not, and we will lose more. But, look at thoseJai and the others saved with their sacrifices. Think of the livesyou and your friends saved. There’s a way out even if we have tolight it ourselves.”

–

JaiVetra died alone as an invader in a foreign land according to therecords. What was not included was the sort of funeral he stillreceived. The last of his strength was used to start his favoriteaudio clip; “I love you, Ba’buir!” singsonged from a tiny voicewith Harti’s warm laugh echoed in the background. Baptized in fuel,a stray spark turned the entire starfighter into a shining inferno.But, beyond that there was those who would carry his name forward.

–

“Wouldit be okay if I learned to say Remembrance with you?” Ahsoka asked,sounding almost unsure. They were curled around each other in bed.Solus’ head resting on her shoulder with a leg flung over her body.Ahsoka’s near arm curled beneath Solus while the other rested onher hip, thumb absentmindedly tracing the curve of the bone. “Iknow it’s something really important to you.”

Blinkingseveral times, Solus tried to study Ahsoka’s face in the dark. Atbest, she gathered bright eyes were staring at the ceiling. “Ofcourse. I’ll teach you when we wake up.” Squinting she tried tomake out if the blue chevrons of the closest lek had darkened any.“Any reason why?”

“Itsounds dumb…because I didn’t know your grandfather at all. But, Iwant to help you remember him.” Her voice grew higher in pitch.“Since we’ve known each other you’ve always said it. Becausepeople live on through their names being remembered right? Or, thatwas how you explained it two years ago.” Shifting their bodiesAhsoka settled only when she could look squarely into Solus’ eyes.“And I’ve heard you say Skyguy’s name too. It’s somethingyou’re doing for me and I just…I just wanted to do the same foryou. That way there’s two people remembering their names.”

Ba’buirwas right about finding the light.

[tsaomengde]

DVD commentary meme! Anything from Aliit (Chapter 9 of Calamities II), please? Because feels trains are always wild? ^_^

Commentary below the cuuuut

Padmé shot another droid in the head and ducked back beneath their makeshift barricade, narrowly avoiding the withering hail of fire which its fellows hurled at her.  “How’s that door coming?” she called.

There was a loud sparking sound, followed by a hearty Mando curse.  “They really don’t want us getting into the command superstructure, that’s how,” Kal’s son Kom’rk growled.  He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by a mess of wires trailing out of a console in the wall.  To the left of the console was a truly massive door, which was – as far as the boarding party had been able to determine – the only way that creatures larger than a mouse droid could get into the command tower of the Executor.

Skirata’s other five Null ARC sons, as well as the little Sergeant himself, were gathered around the door, either trying to slice its controls, jump-start its hydraulic release, or just burn through it.  Padmé, Jango Fett, Walon Vau, Rav Bralor, Mij Gilamar, and half a dozen other Cuy’val Dar Mandos were holding off the droid advance.  Their barricade had begun its life as ten large cargo crates they’d appropriated from a nearby hangar when it had become clear they needed to batten down for a siege.  It had since expanded considerably in the last twenty minutes, as more and more dead droids had been heaped atop and between the crates themselves.

This scene was a combination of “Jesus, I have too many Mando’ade” and “I haven’t done enough with the Cuy’val Dar, they all need to do something”

There was a loud blast, and Jango dropped back behind the barricade to Padmé’s left with a hiss.  “Shab!”

“What happened?” Padmé asked.  “I was reloading.”

“One of these di’kutla hut’uune just shot a mini-spider droid in the fuel cells,” Jango growled, jerking a thumb at the rest of the Mando contingent.  “I just felt a piece of shrapnel hit me under my left arm.”

“Usen’ye, Jango!” Bralor bellowed at him.  “It was shoot it in the fuel cells or watch it plant a be’senaar right in the middle of our wall!  Or did you not see the underslung launcher?”

Jango gave her a rude gesture as he slashed open his undertunic with his wrist knife and slapped a bacta patch against the impact site.  That would keep the wound from getting infected, Padmé thought, until the splinter of metal could be removed.

“Be’senaar?” Padmé asked, popping back up to take another few shots before the droids began focusing on her again.  “I don’t know that one.”

“Missile,” Jango said.  “Specifically a low-yield one used against people.  Proton torpedoes and the like are me’senkyr’am. ‘Ship death.’”

“We could use one of those to deal with this blasted door,” Padmé said.

Thank God for Wookiepedia and their complete Mando’a dictionary.

To her right, Vau, who had spent most of the protracted shootout silently offing droids with a Verpine rifle he’d borrowed from Skirata, laughed quietly.  The sound was barely audible over the blaster fire and occasional grenade, but Padmé could still hear it.  “We’d need to be a quarter kilometer away not to go up with it if we tried that.”

“And?” Padmé asked.  “Any other reason why that wouldn’t work?”

“It might destabilize the ship’s structural integrity too much for us to even be able to get access to the command superstructure,” Jango told her.  “This is the slow, annoying way to do it, but it’s also the way that’ll work.”  He snapped off another shot at the droids.  “Assuming that certain people haven’t massively exaggerated how good their sons are at slicing!” he called pointedly over his shoulder.

This was the point at which I paused, asked, “Why aren’t they using explosives?”, and had to cover my butt.  Well, when shoehorning in explanations, add sass to cover it up.

“Mir’osik,” Skirata barked back at Jango.  Dung for brains, Padmé mentally translated.  She was picking up quite a lot of Mando’a, at this point.  “My lads know their stuff.  Not their fault that Vader’s got his ship sealed up tighter than a –”

The door made a loud boom as its seal broke, and the two massive halves began to slide apart.

“See?” Skirata laughed.  “Like magic.  I –”

Padmé stared in horror as the passageway on the other side of the door began to disgorge dozens of Myrmidons.  Lightsabers blazing, they fell on Skirata and his sons, while others leapt over their fellows’ heads to take the fight to the rest of the Cuy’val Dar, pressing them up against the barricade which had been keeping them alive a moment earlier.

I initially introduced the Myrmidons both as a nod to the old EU’s wishy-washy rules about how cloning Jedi works - in Force Unleashed II, you play Starkiller’s clone, and the final battle against Vader has you cutting through literally hundreds of the failed versions of you - and as a threat that could give Jedi trouble, but not to the same extent as my rapidly-shrinking cast of Sith Lords.  (Clone Wars’s version of this threat is to have Grievous show up, chew scenery, and lose every five episodes, thus making him completely unintimidating.) Then it occurred to me that while the Mando’ade are Jedi-killers, they’d still have a lot of trouble with the Myrmidons, and cackled a little.

One of them landed in a crouch of in front of Padmé.  She felt a terrific, invisible force slam into her chest, crushing her against the cargo crate behind her.  If she hadn’t been wearing beskar, she was certain the impacts would have broken every bone in her chest and back.  The Myrmidon followed up with a lightsaber jab straight into her heart, but the beskar turned the blade aside.  It corkscrewed away along the surface of the Mandalorian iron to embed itself deeply into the crate.

Padmé, in pain and winded, still managed to snap her blaster up to fire half a dozen shots into the Myrmidon’s gut.  Its armor absorbed the first three shots, but the last three penetrated.  The cyborg staggered back, Anakin’s eyes glaring out at her from beneath its metal mask.  Padmé seized the opening and twitched the blaster up to beneath the thing’s chin, where there was a hint of flesh visible between the mask and the sheath of armor around the throat.  She fired a single bolt.

Green plasma flames erupted from the eye holes in the mask and the Myrmidon dropped.  Padmé knew, from Ordo’s report, that it could get back up if the cybernetic implants in its brain were still functional.  Fortunately, she was confident that this one no longer had a brain.

Padme kicking ass is my fetish.

Myrmidons and Mandalorians were struggling everywhere she looked.  Vau, wielding his beskar saber, deftly parried a vicious blow from an opponent, then skewered it through the torso.  He tossed the saber to his other hand, drew his pistol, and shot it in the head to keep it down.  Gilamar got his crushgaunt-clad hand’s fingers hooked into the eyes of another Myrmidon, then let his weaponized gauntlets trigger, literally pulping the creature’s face.

oh God I’d forgotten about the crushgaunt thing.  that’s gross and wonderful

She looked for Skirata, and felt her heart stop.  He was down, a Myrmidon towering over him, lightsaber held aloft.  The Nulls were all occupied with foes of their own, too far away to get to him.

Padmé screamed a challenge, knowing that it was useless with these cold-blooded things but unable to contain her fear and anger.  She snapped up her blaster and fired into the Myrmidon’s back, over and over, not expecting to penetrate the thicker armor there but hoping to distract it, keep it from delivering the coup de grace while she closed the distance.

It staggered around to confront her.  She was less than a meter away when it lashed out with a deadly kick at her head.  Helmet or no, it would definitely drop her if it landed.  Padmé let her legs go out from under her, and she skidded beneath the kick into the Myrmidon’s other leg, spilling it to the floor.

Grappling with it was a poor decision, but letting it keep its lightsaber hand free would be a worse one.  Padmé flipped herself onto her back, whirled a leg around to kick out at the blazing weapon’s hilt.  Her armored toe landed perfectly against the Myrmidon’s metal wrist, sending the lightsaber flying from its grip to skid across the floor.  It twisted on top of her, its other hand going for her throat.

Self-defense reflexes kicked in.  Padmé got her left forearm between the Myrmidon’s grasping fingers and her throat, keeping it from strangling her or just ripping out her windpipe.  She tried to bring her blaster around next, but it pinned her wrist with a heavy prosthetic knee.  Its saber hand, now empty, came around, fingers curled into a metal fist, and slammed into the side of her helmet with bone-jarring force.

I can’t take another hit like that.  She might already be concussed, and if she lost consciousness that would be the end of her.  Padmé got a knee into the Myrmidon’s stomach, levered her other foot beneath her, and pushed her muscles into a convulsive wave, hurling the cyborg off of her while also kipping herself back up.  She landed on her knees rather than her feet, which was less than ideal, but at least she was no longer on the ground.

The Myrmidon had turned, going for its lightsaber.  Padmé shoved herself to her feet, took three running steps, and leapt atop its back, wrapping her left arm in a chokehold around its neck and grabbing her wrist with her other hand.  With all her might, she squeezed.

Its neck was armored, but by necessity it was light, flexible material rather than hardened plates.  Padmé’s crushing grip forced that material into the flesh of the Myrmidon’s throat, pressing on its windpipe.

It took less than fifteen pounds of pressure to collapse a human windpipe.  Myrmidons, seemingly, were not exceptional in that regard.

When it collapsed beneath her, taking her down with it, Padmé scrabbled for its lightsaber.  She got the hilt into her hand, ignited the crimson blade, and stabbed down through the back of the dying creature’s head.  It gave one last shudder and died.

I wanted Padme to have to take one of the Myrmidons down barehanded, because yes, but then I found myself wondering how one kills a phrik-armored cyborg barehanded.  The answer, of course, is to fuck up a sleeper hold so it puts pressure on the windpipe instead of the arteries.  Necks are hard to armor.

Padmé dropped the weapon and ran back to Skirata, picking up her blaster as she did.  Around her, the Mandalorians were recovering from the ambush, killing the last of the Myrmidons and resuming suppressing fire against the droids on the other side of the barricade – none of which had managed to make it over, thankfully.  It had been a brutal melee, but it had been mercifully short.

“Kal,” she breathed as she got to him.  He was face-down, not moving, his helmet fallen several feet away.  Blood slicked the deck beneath him.  “Kal, we got them.  Stay with me.”

With a grunt, she managed to turn him over.  She felt the blood drain from her face as shock flooded her.  The Myrmidon had punched its phrik fist clean through his beskar chestplate.  Blood frothed at his lips every time he breathed, and his breaths were shallow.

His eyes fluttered open.  “Pad’ika,” he murmured.  “Shabla thing jumped me.”  He coughed, violently, his blood spraying all across her breastplate.

“MIJ!” Padmé bellowed for their unit medic.  “MIJ, HURRY!”

Gilamar was there in two seconds, bleeding himself from a nasty head wound but seemingly unaffected.  He swore when he saw Skirata’s chest.  “Kal, you di’kut.  Not good.  Not good.”  He knelt, began undoing the seals on Skirata’s armor.

“Mij, it’s too late,” Skirata told him, his voice quiet.  A terrible gurgling sounded beneath his words.  “Punctured lung.  Slashed aorta.  Drown in my own blood, if blood loss doesn’t… get me first.”

Padmé barely heard the weapons of the fire of the Cuy’val Dar returning to the barricade, beating back the advancing droids.  Her own pulse seemed to thud in her ears, unbearably loud.  This was war, she knew.  People died.  People you cared about.

But not Skirata.  He wasn’t supposed to die.

I’m a self-admitted fan of Skirata, but he is an Author’s Pet.  So, naturally, I wanted to use him myself, and then fridge him to cause Padme pain.

She became aware of the fact that six white-armored figures stood around her, Skirata, and Gilamar.  Looking up, she saw the Nulls, helmets off, all staring down at their father.

“Got to… do it now,” Skirata gasped.

“Udesii, buir,” Ordo whispered, dropping to one knee next to him.  “Mij is the best.  Let’s just get this armor off, and –”

“No!” Skirata barked, his eyes blazing.  He shoved Mij away.  “No rest.  Got to do this now.”  He grasped Ordo’s hand, reached out and grabbed Padmé’s too.  “The gai bal manda.”  He swept his gaze across his sons.  “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad – Ordo, Mereel, Jaing, Kom’rk, A’den, Prudii.”

Padmé forced herself to breathe as he looked at her.  “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad – Padmé.”

He closed his eyes, sighed, and was suddenly gone.

As I mentioned in my reply to one of the comments on that chapter - maybe yours, even, I can’t remember - the spinoff story from this development would be how Jango dies, or quits being Mandalore, and Padme throws her helmet into the ring for the job now that she’s Mando, to stop some Death Watch fuckstick like Pre Vizsla from getting the job.  But I don’t have the time and energy these days to even write Venge when I want to, so.  Someone else can write that.

“Kal,” Padmé said, almost not recognizing her own voice.  She sounded weak, and lost.

“Not Kal,” Ordo told her, looking at her over Skirata’s body.  “Buir.  He adopted you.  He made it official with us, just now, but he also adopted you.  You’re kin, now.  Aliit.”

The other Nulls began moving in.  Each of them took something off of Skirata’s body; Padmé realized they were all taking a piece of his armor.  A gauntlet, a vambrace, his belt.  Jaing lifted the Verpine pistol free from Skirata’s holster.

Ordo let his brothers finish before he claimed Kal’s armor tallies.  He hung them around his own neck, nestling them beneath his armor.  Then he looked at Padmé.  “You too, vod,” he said.  “We take him with us, now.”

In the realm of things I think are good about Mando’a: vod is entirely gender-neutral.  Most of the language is, actually.  Good shit.

Padmé nodded.  There would be tears later, she knew.  Right now, they were still on a mission, and the other Mando’ade were fighting back droids to give her and the Nulls this moment, this sacred moment to say goodbye.

Gilamar had gotten Skirata’s breastplate half-off before he’d been pushed away.  A jagged piece of beskar protruded from the wound in his chest, punched free of the rest of the armor by the Myrmidon’s fatal blow.  Padmé seized it and pulled; it came free, though she felt it bite into her palm even through her gauntlet.

She slipped the metal, still slick with Skirata’s blood and her own, into a pouch at her belt.

“Let’s go,” she said, getting back to her feet.  “We still have someone to save.”

I feel a little bad, because as the story turned out, Padme and the rest of the Cuy’val Dar end up being used in a hostage gambit by Vader, which then backfires on him and allows Venge and Anakin to force the alliance that lets them beat Plagueis.  So they contribute, but not in a glorious or badass way.

But it would have been inconsistent with the fiction and Vader’s established full power for them to have even the remotest chance, so.  I like how this chapter turned out, and vaguely regret that it didn’t amount to more.  There will definitely be references to it in the epilogue of the Venge series, though.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

At the end of Triple Zero, Kal and Ordo have a conversation about the earlier argument Ordo overheard between Kal and Etain. Frankly, it’s a little stunning: two men decide without Etain’s input, and the decision is framed around Darman rather than Etain. That’s an important conversation for a different post, however. I want to focus on Ordo because while he seems like an active player in this decision, he doesn’t have as much freedom as presented.

Please understand I’m not trying to diminish Etain’s suffering in this particular moment nor what Darman is deprived of as a result of this conversation. I’m simply trying to outline what happens to Ordo in this conversation, which I’m suggesting isn’t as easy, free, and straightforward as it appears. I’m making the argument that Kal, inadvertantly or otherwise, plays on Ordo’s emotional vulnerabilities to lock him into agreeing with Kal and that Kal uses Ordo to shoulder the burden that Kal is unwilling to bear himself.

tl;dr

The issue Ordo raises here is that Kal has potentially broken Ordo’s trust, and the trust of the other Nulls, by keeping secrets. Kal, realizing he may lose the Nulls’ trust, tries to argue that their trust has not been broken: he kept secrets, but he never lied. When Ordo is unreceptive to this argument, Kal asks Ordo to make the decision about whether or not Darman should be told Etain is pregnant.

Kal questions if he has the right to even keep this secret, and he fears losing the trust of those around him. Rather than bear the potential consequences of his decision, he pushes the decision onto Ordo, who can take the blame for it if it becomes inconvenient.

Kal frames the issue as agree with me or shoot me, posing a choice that Ordo absolutely cannot make. It’s unreasonable to expect that Ordo would actually choose to murder Kal. It’s emotional blackmail. Generally, the thread of the conversation plays on Ordo’s emotional vulnerabilities with regard to Kal, including Ordo’s inability to disagree because of his intense need to have Kal’s approval.

Ordo isn’t even well-equipped to solve this issue in the first place. He lacks the life experience to make a properly considered decision. Kal knows this. He comments on Ordo lacking in this department multiple times.

Ordo, disadvantaged in many ways in this conversation, has little option but to acquiesce and defer to Kal’s position.

The scene itself

It’s a simple scene: Ordo confronts Kal over what he overheard in the earlier argument between Kal and Etain, and Kal and Ordo come to a decision about what is to be done regarding Etain’s pregnancy and when Darman should be told.

The following is the scene quoted in its entirety. After it is a summary of the narrative beats; skip to that if you prefer.

The scene comes in the chapter directly after Etain and Kal argue and is set in the CSF bar a handful of hours after. Kal narrates. Ordo enters the scene, there is a short exchange about Besany, then it moves into:

“I have a question for you. I need to get hold of Jinart. How would I do that?”

“Easy. She’s a spy. She monitors the GAR troop movements to and from Qiilura. I can put a message in the logistics system that will get her attention. Something subtle. Give me a time and place, and leave the rest to me.”

Skirata had to smile. Almost everything was easy for Ordo. “Back to the barracks then.”

“I have a question for you, too, Kal’buir.”

“Okay.”

“Is it true what Etain said? Did your sons disown you because you stayed on Kamino with us?”

Ordo wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t deaf. Skirata’s family shame was the one thing he never wanted any of them to know about, and not only because it might make them feel guilty. He didn’t want them to fear he might abandon them with equal ease.

“It’s true, Ord’ika.”

“Why would you even think of paying such a terrible price for us?”

“Because you needed me. And I never regretted it for a second. My relationship with my… former family was as good as dead before you were even thought of. Don’t you ever give it a second thought, because I’d do it again in a heartbeat. No question.”

“But I wish we had known.”

Do I have the right to keep another secret, then? “I’m sorry.”

“So apart from Darman’s unborn son, is there anything else you keep from us?”

He’d heard him arguing with Etain, then. Skirata felt the most agonizing shame he had ever experienced in his life. His whole existence now rested on the absolute trust between him and his clone family. He couldn’t bear to lose that.

“So you know what I’m going to ask of Jinart, then. I heard the news when you did, Ord’ika. And no, there is nothing else. I swore I would never lie to you, and I never have.” Skirata pointed to Ordo’s matched blasters. “If I ever do, I’d rather you used those on me. Because being there for you was the only decent thing I ever did in my life. Understand?”

Ordo just stared at him. Skirata put both hands up on his shoulders and stood there in silence.

“Okay, son, tell me what I should do about Darman, and I’ll do it.”

Ordo still had that look of blank appraisal, the expression he adopted when dismantling a new and fascinating puzzle. “I don’t think the time is right. We have to do what’s best for our brothers.”

It was the pragmatic thing to do. Skirata fastened his jacket and checked that his knife was in place, his ritual for leaving any building and walking out into the unknown night. “Agreed, Ord’ika. Now all I need to do is have a little chat with General Zey.”

The narrative beats are as follows:

Kal asks Ordo for advice on contacting Jinart. He does not indicate why he’s contacting Jinart. Ordo gives him an answer, which Kal finds satisfactory, and Kal intends to end the conversation there. 

Ordo (gently) confronts Kal about a secret he learned he overheard Kal and Etain talking about, that Kal was disowned by his biological children, and asks for confirmation. Kal confirms.

Ordo expresses that he doesn’t like that Kal kept secret something so important and so informing of their relationship.

Kal wonders to himself if he has the right to keep another.

Ordo, without verbal prompting, confronts Kal about the intent to keep this other secret from them all, Etain’s pregnancy. Kal realizes that Ordo heard the argument with Etain.

Kal realizes that he stands to lose the trust of those around him and resolves that he cannot lose it.

Kal tells Ordo that he never lied to any of them and assures Ordo that if he ever lies to them he would prefer Ordo shoot him.

When Ordo isn’t responsive, Kal asks Ordo to make the final decision.

After some consideration, Ordo finds that the time is not right to tell Darman about the pregnancy and says they must do what is best. Kal agrees and says he will talk to Zey to implement the plan he outlined to Etain earlier.

Secrets, lies, and whether the difference matters

“I hope so. But in the end, who are the only people we can really trust?”

“Ourselves, Kal’buir.”

His trust was transparent and absolute. “You’re our protector and we’ll always serve you.”

Skirata winced. Faith was devastating if you weren’t up to being a god.

We can trust nobody but our brothers and Kal’buir.

Here, the introduced issue is whether or not Kal can be trusted. He has kept an important secret from the Nulls—Kal’s reasoning aside, that isn’t the issue here—and Ordo had to learn it from someone else during an accidentally overheard conversation. At the same time, Kal intends to keep another secret, one that Kal isn’t immediately forthcoming to Ordo with. Kal, Ordo feels, doesn’t trust the Nulls enough to tell them everything. This is what is at stake for Ordo in this conversation.

That Kal would be forthcoming to all of the Nulls is something not only Ordo and the other Nulls expect, it’s something other characters expect as well; later in the series, Jusik is operates under the false assumption that Kal told all the Nulls about Etain’s pregnancy, and Mereel is plainly hurt that he wasn’t informed.

Ordo, despite his apparent calm, is understandably upset. He’s not antagonistic, but he carries an edge of an accusatory tone, especially in his second statement: Is there anything else you keep from us? Kal asks the Nulls for their trust ever since he met them on Kamino, and Ordo continues to display a trust that is “transparent and absolute”—as described in Kal’s narration only nineteen days earlier. This is a trust so complete that Kal compares it to the faith that one may have in a deity. The idea that Ordo can only trust himself, the other Nulls, and Kal is a recurring one. This breach of trust is serious.

Kal, realizing he stands to lose that long-held trust, immediately begins to convince Ordo that his trust has not been broken. Ordo should continue to trust him because while he kept secrets and intends to keep more, he never outright lied to any of them.

His whole existence now rested on the absolute trust between him and his clone family. He couldn’t bear to lose that.

“So you know what I’m going to ask of Jinart, then. I heard the news when you did, Ord’ika. And no, there is nothing else. I swore I would never lie to you, and I never have.” Skirata pointed to Ordo’s matched blasters. “If I ever do, I’d rather you used those on me. Because being there for you was the only decent thing I ever did in my life. Understand?”

Ordo just stared at him. Skirata put both hands up on his shoulders and stood there in silence.

It’s an attempt to split hairs on the issue and get away on a technicality. Generally, it’s a terrible thing to do; someone comes to you saying they feel hurt and you argue they shouldn’t because “Technically—” Kal is trying to laser focus the trust issue into very specific parameters, even though Ordo directly states that the issue is Kal keeps secrets and Kal fails to return the Nulls’ trust and share information with them. Kal is actively trying to change the rhetoric and terms of the conversation to move himself into a stronger arguing position.

It’s okay because I didn’t outright lie. I don’t have to lose your trust because I didn’t lie.

To reinforce the supposed sincerity of this statement, Kal offers that Ordo take up an ultimatum: should Kal lie to Ordo or any of his siblings, Ordo will shoot Kal.

Even after a silent plea, Ordo doesn’t bite. He makes no motion to accept this new line of argument, implicitly indicating that he believes the difference between lying and keeping secrets doesn’t matter here. The issue is a breach of that absolute trust Ordo gave. However, the remainder of the conversation operates under the hanging rhetoric and threat of Kal’s offer.

Loaded rifles and emotional blackmail

With his offer apparently rejected, Kal puts the problem to Ordo: “Okay, son, tell me what I should do about Darman, and I’ll do it.” It appears to be another show of good will and an appeal to Ordo: if you feel I have broken your trust, and the trust of your siblings, in keeping secrets, then you make the decision if I should keep this one. It’s put forward as an appeal to appease Ordo’s hurt sense of trust, however, it’s not that simple.

While Ordo may not have accepted the line of rhetoric that Kal was working with a minute ago, Kal has still set up the choice: agree with me or shoot me, help me keep a secret from everyone else, including the other Nulls, or kill me. 

It goes like this because that’s how Kal has framed the issue. Kal argues that he will not break their trust until he lies, and Ordo is to shoot him if that happens. Ordo, since bringing the topic up, has maintained his trust was broken because of keeping secrets.

The two choices before Ordo now are essentially:

Tell Darman: maintain his original position—the difference between breaking trust by lying and breaking trust by keeping secrets is negligible in this case, they are both critical breaches of trust—and shoot Kal, as Kal asks

Don’t tell Darman: acquiesce to Kal’s position—the difference between between breaking trust by lying and breaking trust by keeping secrets is an important one in this case, keeping secrets is not as terrible as lying

Technically, there is a third option: tell Darman, maintain that Kal deeply broke Ordo’s trust, and not shoot Kal. But, please remember that Ordo’s strengths do not lie in the rhetoric department. Kal connected the ideas in the way presented in the above two choices.

Ordo cannot make the decision to shoot Kal. He’s entirely incapable of it. The choice left to him is to cede to Kal’s position.

Generally speaking, Ordo is also not in a position to disagree with Kal, and it is a long time before Ordo can bring himself to criticize Kal. They do not have an equal relationship by default, and their relationship is especially imbalanced in this moment in Ordo’s life.

It was all too easy to swagger out of the meeting full of aggressive confidence and forget that Ordo—muscular, lethal, the ultimate soldier—was vulnerable to the approval of one person alone: him. [...]

His [Ordo’s] trust was transparent and absolute. “You’re our protector and we’ll always serve you.”

Skirata winced. Faith was devastating if you weren’t up to being a god.

Somewhere, no matter how much reassurance Skirata gave him, he still seemed to fear that not being good enough meant a death sentence.

Only nineteen days earlier, Ordo regards Kal with an almost religious devotion. While it’s apparent Ordo’s faith has been shaken, that still has strong bearing on his ability to criticize and disagree with Kal. 

In Triple Zero, Ordo is emotionally dependent on Kal and reads Kal’s disapproval as the end of the known universe. He needs Kal to like him. As a result, he is eager to please Kal and to give Kal what he wants. Ordo, when it comes to Kal, is in a very emotionally vulnerable place, and Kal will always have that leverage. Ordo is not in a position to disagree with Kal.

Ordo almost desperately seeks Kal’s validation. Nearly all of his emotional stability and self-worth depends on Kal’s constant approval.

Early in Ordo’s life, Ordo failed standard—essentially failed to gain the approval of Ko Sai and Orun Wa—and was told to die for it, and Ordo sees himself as rescued from death by Kal. After, Ordo pretty much operates on the belief that he continues to live so long as Kal continues to approve of him. Due to this trauma, Ordo lives under a draconian perfection or die rule, and part of this is striving to be always deemed good enough by Kal. This means no mistakes, no disappointments, and, insidiously, no disagreements. To disagree is to risk losing approval.

Ordo cannot remotely risk this. He’s in too emotionally vulnerable a position to do it. Kal, inadvertantly or otherwise, is hitting Ordo’s emotional vulnerabilities and is, arguably, emotionally blackmailing him.

If Kal wanted properly cared about cultivating Ordo’s trust in a healthy way, he should have asked Ordo, “What can I do to make it up for you? How can I regain your trust? What do you want me to do to prove you can trust me?” But, this give control of the conversation completely to Ordo, and Kal is generally unwilling to let control out of his hands. (That’s a post for another time.)

Ordo is pretty much locked into a single decision.

We all decide what those we love should know and not know, and think we’re being kind. Isn’t this where it all started? —Ordo, preparing Etain’s funeral, Order 66

Really, one can argue that Kal looping Ordo into helping make a decision that deeply affects Etain’s life and her relationship with Darman without her input is telling Ordo that Kal will make decisions regarding anyone’s life without their input. Ordo’s realization that Kal is going to make everyone’s decisions for them and his constant pleas for Kal to stop this forms Ordo’s narrative and character arc from True Colors through the rest of the series. Outlining that is for another post, but arguably, it starts here, with this moment.

The pragmatic thing to do

Ordo still had that look of blank appraisal, the expression he adopted when dismantling a new and fascinating puzzle. “I don’t think the time is right. We have to do what’s best for our brothers.”

It was the pragmatic thing to do. Skirata fastened his jacket and checked that his knife was in place, his ritual for leaving any building and walking out into the unknown night. “Agreed, Ord’ika. Now all I need to do is have a little chat with General Zey.”

It’s well-known fact that Ordo, especially at this point in his life, is not equipped with strong social skills. The whys and hows of that aside, it is clearly established he has difficulty navigating emotional problems and often cannot grasp the intricacies of non-professional relationships. He’s only just beginning to learn how to deal with these situations.

He could feel the other part of him, the Ord’ika who wanted to cry for his brothers, but he was very distant, as if in another life: there was just absolute cold detachment in the physical shell where his mind was situated now.

What Ordo is adept at is operational needs, logistical problems, and practical concerns. His decisions tend to be based more in pure logic and pragmatism, operating in what is described as an unemotional, cold, and detached manner. That’s not to say that Ordo isn’t an emotional person—he very deeply is—he just often doesn’t factor emotionality into his decision-making process. He isn’t a good person to ask to solve an emotionally fraught delimma. 

Kal knows these things. Kal himself notes multiple times that Ordo is socially lacking and, even in this passage, notes that Ordo solves things like puzzles, from a detached and unemotional place.

He assesses problems from an unemotional place, and he has difficulty with social situations. However, the specific problem put to Ordo, should Darman be told that Etain is pregnant with his child, is a deeply social and emotionally fraught one. The crux of the issue is an emotional one: How distracted will Darman be if he is told of this? How hurt will Darman be if he learns this was kept a secret from him? How will keeping this a secret strain Etain and Darman’s relationship?

Ordo’s process of decision-making not only is unsuitable for this particular issue, Ordo himself lacks the life experience, perspective, understanding, judgment, and deftness to make an informed, emotionally sensitive, and considered decision. This situation is complex and difficult, even for those with more experience and skill in handling these things.

On top of that, Kal doesn’t give Ordo time to make a considered decision. There was time; Ordo may have already assigned Omega squad to an op, but they don’t leave Coruscant for another seven days. Kal asks Ordo for his judgment on the spot. If Ordo’s carefully considered opinion was truly of that much importance, it would’ve been better to give Ordo time to think about it—but again, this gives too much control to Ordo. And, it may not really matter; Ordo still lacks the perspective to make a properly informed judgment, and he cannot ask others for advice due to the sensitive nature of the situation.

Ordo has little choice but to defer to Kal’s experience. Or, he can’t be expected to make a good decision. He simply isn’t equipped for it.

Whose fault is it anyway? (And why does it matter?)

In the end, the explicit decision Ordo makes is to not tell Darman at this point or in the immediate future and that they must do what is best for “our brothers”. The problem Ordo isn’t weighing is how to treat Etain over the course of her pregnancy, the extent of her involvement in any decisions, where Etain should go, and similar issues.

Ordo’s executive decisionmaking extends to whether or not he, Kal, and Etain should keep this a secret from Darman. Kal implements his own plan about what should be done about (or to) Etain, a plan he already told Etain he would be implementing. While, technically, Ordo could have had input about that—we don’t know, that all takes place off-screen—what we do know is that in this scene, Ordo doesn’t. It simply appears Ordo decides to agree with Kal that Darman shouldn’t be told, and then it appears that Kal takes this as agreement to go ahead with his plan.

But if Ordo made the executive decision, shouldn’t it be his fault? It isn’t Ordo’s plan, and again, Ordo is in an emotionally vulnerable position and is ultimately being emotionally blackmailed by Kal. It’s difficult to speak up in defense of others when you yourself are gagged.

Do I have the right to keep another secret, then? “I’m sorry.”

“So apart from Darman’s unborn son, is there anything else you keep from us?”

He’d heard him arguing with Etain, then. Skirata felt the most agonizing shame he had ever experienced in his life. His whole existence now rested on the absolute trust between him and his clone family. He couldn’t bear to lose that.

Kal questions his right to keep this secret and fears losing the trust of his children. He’s unwilling to make the risk himself and shoulder the responsibility, and he quickly asks someone else to make the decision for him.

By asking Ordo to make the final decision, Kal shifts the moral and emotional responsibility onto Ordo, circumventing Kal’s need to answer the explicitly posed question: Do I have the right to keep another secret? He doesn’t have to answer if he has the right; he’s only doing as Ordo asks. He can blame Ordo.

And Kal briefly does in True Colors. In both narration and in his interaction with others, including Mereel, when it is inconvenient to shoulder the blame, Kal is willing to push the blame entirely onto Ordo rather than accept any of it himself. Kal constantly treats everything that happens as a joint decision, as if he and Ordo are on equal footing, even though throughout True Colors, it’s clear that what happens is per Kal’s decisions and Ordo is doing as Kal says.

In the interest of keeping the length of this post down, I defer to the analysis @izzyovercoffee wrote on the specific scene in True Colors: Kal and abuse: inability to shoulder responsibility (preview). The short of it is: Kal is willing to carelessly destroy one of the most important relationships in Ordo’s life because Kal is unwilling to shoulder the responsibility and potentially destroy his own relationships.

And since Ordo is in a disadvantaged position in this conversation, Ordo is going to let Kal do as he wanted while suffering the consequences if they become inconvenient.

In summary

This section is the same as the tl;dr one at the beginning, but it bears repeating.

The issue Ordo raises here is that Kal has potentially broken Ordo’s trust, and the trust of the other Nulls, by keeping secrets. Kal, realizing he may lose the Nulls’ trust, tries to argue that their trust has not been broke: he kept secrets, but he never lied. When Ordo is unreceptive to this argument, Kal asks Ordo to make the decision about whether or not Darman should be told Etain is pregnant.

Kal questions if he has the right to even keep this secret, and he fears losing the trust of those around him. Rather than bear the potential consequences of his decision, he pushes the decision onto Ordo, who can take the blame for it if it becomes inconvenient.

Kal frames the issue as agree with me or shoot me, posing a choice that Ordo absolutely cannot make. It’s unreasonable to expect that Ordo would actually choose to murder Kal. Generally, the thread of the conversation plays on Ordo’s emotional vulnerabilities with regard to Kal, including Ordo’s inability to disagree because of his intense need to have Kal’s approval.

Ordo isn’t even well-equipped to solve this issue in the first place. He lacks the life experience to make a properly considered decision. Kal knows this. He comments on Ordo lacking in this department multiple times.

Ordo, disadvantaged in many ways in this conversation, has little option but to acquiesce and defer to Kal’s position.

[crimson-dxwn]

AT ODDS 6 (Kal Skirata x F!OC)

Summary: Tea gets spilled at Kyrimorut. Ordo gets involved. Ori makes a choice and a new enemy.

Warnings: Mando profanity, pregnancy, SPOILERS for Republic Commando books (all but the last one), medical shit, surgery, fucking SADS

As always, so many thanks to @detroitbydark who lets me screech about my weird fic and Kal and Ori! Also this is barely edited be kind, I’m on my psych rotation and barely scraping by. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kal realizes he’s slipped the figurine into the pocket of his bodysuit semi-consciously in his hasty retreat from the apartment. Knotted Jonah wood whittled smooth forms two stylized figures, one large and one small, their hands joined between them. 

He barely registers the ride back home and comming Mij. They need a plan, and they need one fast if they are going to find her. He knows little about how the Empire treats their prisoners compared to the late Republic, but he isn’t about to have any illusions of honor or fair play. After all, he doesn’t play fair himself. But there’s a hydrospanner thrown into the mix. What he doesn’t know is how the Imps treat prisoners with … unique health conditions. Or if they even give half a bantha’s shebs. Odds are they send men and women alike to those osik’la camps he’s gotten word of. Yeah, the Empire was equal opportunity like that. 

If Mereel can’t slice into the system remotely, they were going to have to do an old-fashioned infiltration. He’d ask his ad’ike if they were up to task, there’s no way he could ask to put them in danger, not after the entirety of their lives being war. It hurts him to even think about asking. But he has to do this, even if it’s just his sorry shebs. 

He tries to put on a good Sabaac face when he’s back in the karyai, discreetly gathering up all the surplus weapons they have that he finds might be useful for an infiltration into a heavily armed and fortified position. 

Mereel of course, catches on within minutes. 

“You’re going to find her,” Mereel interrupts. Kal yanks his head up out of the gun locker to look at his son. “And you didn’t even think to ask for backup?”

His son’s tone is accusing, edging on hurt. That he did not expect.

“It’s my fuckup, son,” he replies, “I’m the one who needs to fix it. I can’t ask you to do this.”

“What’s so special about this doctor?” Mereel slams the door of the locker shut. It’s obvious his ad’ika is protective. They all are. 

“She delivered your ba’vodu’ad, Mereel. I’m pretty sure she saved Parja’s life.” Kal says, keeping his eyes on his work, cleaning the weapons, arranging the ammo he needs. Sharpening his father’s three-sided knife. 

“And that’s enough to go up against the Empire? ”

He’s going to have to spit it out. Mereel is looking at him expectantly, sure that he’s going to change his mind, see reason. 

“She’s pregnant, son.” Mereel, who has been away for the events of the last few months, just stares back at him in a puzzled fashion, brows slightly furrowed. Looking at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Maybe he has. 

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

In comes a second voice, and the accusatory tone startles him enough that, when added to his baseline urgency and anxiety, causes his hand to slip and nick itself as he sharpens his knife. 

“Osik,” he hisses, holding pressure to the cut as blood wells, looking up to the figure in the doorway. Ordo. Mereel stares at his brother, unsure whether he is joking. Kal sighs. He should know better, trying to keep things from them. The last time he was successful at that was when they were four. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Maybe,” Ordo replies, just this edge of indignant, “is she carrying my vod?” 

A strange and protective piece of him flares at Ordo’s tone and Kal stands, still holding the cloth to his cut hand. 

“Most likely.”

“Then we need to get her back.” Ordo meets his eye finally and Kal nods, satisfied, and starts gathering ammo from the safes. This time Mereel moves to help, still in a rare state of stunned silence. 

By the time they’ve gathered what they need and loaded it into aayhan, Mereel has a willing team assembled and what they know of the building schematics up on a datapad in the karyai. Fortunately for them, the team won’t be breaking into any prison blocks, which are bound to be heavily guarded. 

“All we have to do is get into the information security room that houses the main terminal,” Mereel starts confidently. “We can stay far away from the security blocks and the bucketheads.” 

“Though it would be fun to bust some vode out of there,” Scorch adds. 

“Not our mission,” says Mereel, regret plain in his voice, “we’ll have to get them another time.” The realization that they were leaving prisoners at the mercy of the empire sobers the group even more. It was becoming more and more apparent that more planning was needed before they could root out the Empire on Mandalore. Meanwhile, Kal had set Uthan to the task of trying desperately to make their own homebrew vaccine. 

---

It’s been many many years since he’s fastroped. Lately, he has been finding that it’s been years since he’s done many things. Fastroping, underwater diving...fathering kriffing kids. He swallows, hard and regroups himself. Every single one of them needs to be focused if they’re gonna pull this job off. 

Yes, he’s fast roped before. But he’s never liked it. Where his sons get twitchy when confined to tight spaces, he finds himself sweating more than usual under his beskar the more stories they climb. Right now, they’re about ten stories up, far above the sensors of the garrison and way above his tolerance for heights. They have about a minute to pull this off before the Imps realize this transport is lingering too long in their airspace. 

Mereel, Sev, Scorch, and Kal are in Aayhan, hovering silently above the Keldabe imperial garrison in the inky black late summer night. The humidity sticks his tactical garments to his skin, making it itch and crawl in addition to his surging adrenaline. That was one thing that never changed, no matter how old he got, no matter how many missions he’s finished - that nauseating spike of pure fear and bliss. 

He gives the signal to move move move and soon he’s roping down, strong north Mandalorian wind whipping around him, soaking through his underlayer. The four of them land silently on the roof of the compound, and Scorch starts laying a strip charge along the floor to create a hole leading below, straight into the admin offices. Four sets of Mando armor gleam lowly in the moonlight. It’s a perfect night for an op like this, whipping wind obscuring any slight noise they did make and the faint whine of aayhan’s engines. The charges detonate with a controlled bang and flash of bright light that briefly blinds his HUD. Kal switches to night vision.

*His child*. It’s barely a concrete concept in his mind yet, but an instinctual piece of him knows the truth. The timing is too perfect for him to be wrong. The way Orla had looked at him in the med center…

The stakes are too high to fail, and distracting thoughts get men killed. Mereel leads the way through the door, rifle at the ready, and Kal banishes his musings to the back of his mind, pushed away by a fresh rush of adrenaline. It’s a stealth mission, and they navigate by night vision, as silently as their boots will allow. 

They stalk through dark quiet hallways lined with innocuous office doors until they reach the end, what is presumably the CO’s office, with its durasteel double doors and obviously larger size. 

Mereel starts in on slicing the door panel while Sev shoots out the camera in the hallway corner while the rest of them listen for any approaching patrols. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed they were there, whether it was the hole in the roof or the blacked out camera. The double doors open quietly and they head inside. Vau’s boys guard the door while he and Mereel crowd the desk in the middle of the room. 

“I need a few minutes to get into this,” Mereel says, eyes locked onto the screen before him. One of his slicing tools is between his teeth.

“You’ll get it, son. We’ll take care of anything that tries to get in our way.” 

So far it looks like no one has noticed them. The imps must really be confident in the plan to neutralize Mandalore with so few guards and patrols. Sweat drops trickle down the back of his neck and into his bodysuit.

Mereel studies the datapad stripping the system for a few more moments and turns it towards Kal. There’s a concerned look stretched across his handsome face. Together the watch the recorded scene on the screen before them. 

There’s Orla, still in her work clothes, talking with an Imp who’s behind this very desk, flanked by two stormtroopers. He knows those gestures - she’s spitting mad, barely containing the fury that was directed toward the man behind the desk. Without audio he can only guess as to the contents of their conversation. The Imp behind the desk gives a short reply and nods curtly to the right-hand trooper who, without hesitation, raises his blaster rifle and cracks her across the face with the butt end. She doesn’t even see it coming. Even in the shades of blue from the holoprojector the blood is obvious, trickling down the side of her face. 

Kal is livid, trembling so finely it’s barely visible, and he almost forgets where they are for a moment. Deep in enemy territory, with hostiles incoming any minute. 

Mereel makes a disgusted noise from deep in his chest as they watch her be pushed to the ground. They follow the video feed where she’s led to a cell. His breath catches. There’s a chance she’s still here. His hope is tempered, however, when an alarm starts to sound from within the garrison. A patrol must have finally found their breach point.

“Sarge?” warns a voice from outside the door. It’s Sev, by the gravelly tone. 

“Almost finished,” he shouts, over the screeching din. Mereel continues to work furiously, his bulk hunched over the console. He’s able to parse through incredible amounts of data with immense precision; Kal can practically feel the concentration rolling off him. 

“Wait,” Mereel says. Kal looks over at the screen. They’re centered on a video feed again, this time outside. The sheer amount of prisoners in line for the transport is shocking enough, but the fact that none of them are in armor is even more appalling. The Imps are slowly stripping their culture away, plate by plate. 

“She’s not on the manifest for this transport, even though the records say she leaves.” 

It doesn’t make sense. Unless… Kal knows Mereel must be thinking the same as him. Judging by the brutality of the footage they’ve watched, the stories from around the planet, he wouldn’t put it past the Empire to take care of a pesky problem in the easiest way they knew how. It wasn’t something that supposedly peaceful, orderly governments liked to keep records of. His dread and guilt intensifies, leadening his limbs already weighed down by heavy beskar. 

He chokes the words out. He has to know. “Is there any footage of…” Kal can’t bring himself to say them. It doesn’t need to be said, Mereel knows what he’s looking for. He’s been in a war zone long enough to know that armies aren’t sentimental. 

“No, no footage. Just them leading her away.” The alarm continues to blare. It could be minutes, seconds before they have to blast their way out. 

“Here.”

Kal steels himself to watch. It’s his fault, he reminds himself again. Two more fresh marks in his ledger. His arm reaches automatically to his son’s to steady himself. He feels Mereel’s slump ever so slightly, whether it’s in relief or defeat, he can’t tell. 

“I have what I need,” he says, “time to go. Debrief can wait for later.” Distant footsteps start to echo towards them, modulated shouts following close behind. They were about to be grossly outnumbered, by the sound of it. Kal shoves his helmet back on, heading through the doorway and signaling Sev and Scorch to follow. 

They wind through the garrison, avoiding both patrols and squads of stormtroopers sweeping the building. It’s laughably easy compared some of the other heists they’ve pulled - except he speaks too soon. As they make their way out of the back door of the garrison onto the Keldabe streets, one squad catches up to them. Ordo has aayhan back at Kyrimorut - earlier they had decided it was too risky for the four of them to fly home and possibly expose the homestead. So instead their plan was to run the winding streets and strategically borrow a transport. The problem is that Kal is pushing sixty and the other men are - physiologically at least - still in their early twenties. They’re a lot kriffing faster than him, even with his ankle fixed. 

The streets and alleys twist and turn, switching from ancient cobbles to smooth duracrete without warning. Easy enough to get lost if you’re a local, they are impossible to navigate as aruettiise. Soon the four are panting, ducked into an alcove off a cobbled alley. Finally, it seems they’ve dodged the patrol. Only time will tell if they were recognized. Kal finds he doesn’t much mind if they know his face. In fact, he hopes they do. He wants to meet that garrison officer. 

-------

Imperial Rehabilitation Center

Weeks later

19 BBY

Life isn’t all doom and gloom. They are kept...occupied. Like rats in a maze. Ori shares a bunk with another Mandalorian, the only other there. Taren is a kid really, small and slight except for her distended belly. It’s obvious she’s used to wearing armor by the way she walks, how upright she holds herself, arms swaying slightly away from her body. And how she closes in on herself when she realizes it’s not there, when it’s nighttime in their room and thinks Ori can’t hear her sob breathlessly into her pillow every night. 

It’s almost childish, the way they’re herded from room to room. Chaperoned and on a schedule, like one would handle a naughty child needing extra discipline. It was how she imagines Coruscanti boarding schools some of her medical school classmates attended - polished stone floors and crisp uniforms, all strict routines and synchronized repetition. It’s meant to numb the mind, making days run into weeks. She suspects they’re kept intentionally disoriented. After all, most of them are still political prisoners, and many she’s found have important connections on their respective homeworlds. 

They’re at lunch, scattered around their assigned tables. Generously, they are allowed to converse during meals, though their seats remain assigned. The ‘rehab center’ has proven to be much more expansive than she expected - some rooms are swallowingly large, like the one she is in now, and some are as small as a broom closet, connected by narrow winding hallways. The building itself could have been any number of things in a past life - a school, factory, or prison. She supposes it doesn’t matter much now. Today there’s a newcomer, sitting quiet and sullen at a back table with the Corellians. Time would tell if she was one of them or if she hailed from a different world. 

An arm jostles her, hitting her square in the ribs. It successfully knocks her out of her analysis of the newcomer. 

“-did you hear what I just said?” Taren says, mouth full of tasteless nutritional paste. It’s far from delicious, but you ate what they give out and she is hungry *all the time* nowadays. A fleck lands on Ori’s face and she wipes it away with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, al’verde.” Commander. Her eyes roll automatically. She knows she doesn’t deserve the title. Discreetly, Ori shushes the younger woman - they’re lucky the stormtroopers here don��t understand Mando’a. 

They put together kit for new stormtroopers, morning and night. It’s another endurable humiliation. She stabs at the cubes bitterly with her spoon, scattering crumbs across the table. They’re not allowed forks or knives, not after Taren’s first week. A tiny smile flits across her face as she thinks on the memory. 

 Ori feels like a geriatric compared to the spry warrior, though they’re less than ten years apart in age. She’s seen things in that time, lost people, buried dreams. Though Taren is looking older and older by the day, cooped up in this place. 

“Theera is gone,” Taren says, “she wasn’t at breakfast either.” 

Looking around and finding no sign of the woman, Ori hums an agreement. She’ll be gone for good soon, and her baby as well. Every time someone delivers it sends a sense of unshakeable dread down her spine and into the pit of her stomach. All of them are marching slowly towards that finish line. 

The artificial hierarchy into which they are forced has made the two Mandalorians de facto leaders, despite Ori being one of the newer inmates and to cement her as *alverde*; her medical expertise makes her invaluable. 

The room hushes as Dr. Loesch sweeps down to the cafeteria, all business in crisp grey scrubs, so confident in his admiration. He insists they call him ‘Doctor L’ like he’s a popular lecturer at a university. He’s the worst kind of hut’uun, just as bad as the rest of the Imps she’s met here. Loesch is in charge of their medical care, all 100-some of them, including herself. Loesch towers over most of them, even herself. 

As a physician, Ori is personally insulted at his complacency, the fact that he is perfectly content in his post and cemented in his belief that what he was doing is just, his complicity. She stabs at her cubes some more to try and make herself feel better. 

As a woman, she’s decidedly less surprised. Men like him are everywhere, tall and handsome, handed success on a silver platter, born into families of privilege and power. Taking and taking with no thought of the carnage they leave behind. 

He saunters his way over to their table and sits with a charming smile. 

“Beviin,” he starts, “I heard through the gossip chain that you were an obstetrician before you came here?”

It’s physically painful to keep her retort in hand. She’s been here long enough to see women sent to solitary. And to see them come back, changed indefinitely. 

“Mmm,” she mumbles affirmatively through a mouthful of cubes. She swallows. “Yes.” Keep it simple, that’s easy enough. 

He smiles sardonically. “How ironic,” he adds, obviously pleased with the revelation. Expectantly, he looks around the table to gauge his joke, and they catch on, laughing softly, nervously, afraid of what might happen if they don’t. Even Ori joins in, the butt of the low blow, though her simmering rage ratchets up another level.

They finish the rest of their lunch largely in silence and Loesch pulls her away when she files out with the others. 

“Ms. Beviin,” he says conspiratorially, “I know it must be difficult for you to be here.” 

The man over her, face too close for comfort, his voice deep and low. Alarm fills her as the other people in the room dwindle until it’s just the two of them and the scattered troopers on the upper level. All Ori can think about is where the nearest exit is located when she realizes he’s still speaking to her. 

“...what do you think?” He waits patiently, a benevolent expression in his face. He blinks too little, she thinks, and his eyes are devoid of expression, shining with an amused sort of malevolence. They’re a strange shade of brown...no, green? The little noise he makes in the back of his throat brings her back to their conversation.

“Ah...sure?” she replies weakly, stunned and frozen.

“That’ll be nice for the other inmates,” he says. Incredibly white, straight teeth flash as he smiles down at her. “I think it will give them comfort to have you there. I’ll have the guards collect you when it’s time.” 

——

Three nurses eye her from across the suite. They wear sweet matching hospital uniforms, in the same soft fabric as hers except in a delicate petal pink. With a pang, she misses her fellow nurses and doctors on Mandalore. Who knows how many had fallen ill? Been arrested? The way they clustered in a little group reminded her of her schoolmates, when they found out she didn’t like fighting, whispering rumors from across the room. That she thought she was better than them, that weird girl who was more concerned with grades than winning fights and impressing boys. Now they stand across the room from her like a little bunch of flowers in their coordinated outfits, identical and perfect. She’s an other in their world, someone to be feared and hated, pitied at best. 

Orla stands awkwardly, waiting for the show to start when her stomach flips. The scrub top she has on stretches across her middle awkwardly, pulling at the seams and the soft shoes that cover her feet are obscured by her bump. The strange sensation returns, a little differently this time, just the barest flutter, deeper down than that nervous feeling. Her baby. She lays a gentle palm over the swell, as discreetly as she can, still feeling the scrutinizing looks of the women across the room.

Another nurse wheels a bed into the room, complete with Theera shivering atop it, her hair and gown drenched in sweat. Orla rushes to the head of the bed as she’s prepped for the operation. Theera is dazed, too exhausted to make much sense of anything right now, glassy eyes focused on the ceiling. She smoothes back the sweaty hair from Theera’s forehead. 

“Hey cyar’ika. It’s Ori,” she says softly. The woman’s eyes focus a little, just enough to meet hers. She bumps their foreheads together. It was as much to comfort herself as much as the other woman. Non-mandos typically didn’t understand the meaning behind the gesture. She can’t squeeze her hand like she wants to - it’s being hooked up to IV tubing.

“I’m cold,” she mumbles. Some of it is adrenaline, some from fear, and the rest from the icy operating room temperature to keep the surgeons comfortable. Drenched as she is, it’s no wonder Theera is shivering. 

Ori asks the wary tech for a warm blanket, terrified of overstepping and getting her shebs kicked out of the operating room. She’s promptly ignored in favor of his work. Dr. Loesch enters the room and the nurses titter around him while he ensures everything is prepped to his liking. Ori settles for as much skin to skin contact as she can get with Theera, trying to warm her, mumbling comforting nonsense into her ear as Loesch starts to work. A warming bassinet waits ominously against the wall for its prize. 

A thin cry interrupts their mumbling and Theera’s eyes sharpen at the noise. Loesch holds the little thing over the curtain separating them indulgently, just for a moment. A boy, he says, and she and Theera find themselves mesmerized by the bloody little thing and his tiny squished face and flailing arms, already so angry at the world. He’s held up for a second, allowing Theera a cursory glance and then whisked away by the nurses to the bassinet. His mother is still paralyzed on the table and it makes it all the more unjust that she isn’t even allowed to touch her son, see him up close. The nurses at the bassinet laugh and coo, oblivious to Theera, who starts weeping pitifully. Fat tears slide down the side of her face, wetting the starched white sheet beneath her head.

Ori is in the middle of the absolute emotional chaos around her. Theera crying, Dr. Loesch talking with his assistant about weekend plans, and the nurses with the baby, who have turned back at the sound of crying to glare at them judgementally. She can practically hear them now. Serves her right, their looks say. She deserves it. The rage congeals around Ori, settling itself in her throat. This feeling is exactly what had put her in this place to begin with and she knows she has to control it, use it somehow. She watches them place a little bracelet around the infant’s ankle and scan it into a datapad. They don’t bother with Theera. It dawns on her then that if she’s lucky - incredibly lucky - she can use the Empire’s obsession with order against them. 

She makes her way over to the bassinet under the ruse of joining the indulgent cooing that is going on, trying not to throw elbows before she’s kicked out of the room. The little boy’s leg is caught for a heel stick an she gets her chance. The number on the leg band is just visible, only for a second. She sends a prayer up to the Manda that she gets it right. 

Taglist

@clonewarslover55 @simping-for-fives @808tsuika @jedi-mando @cherry-cokes-world @nelba @fractiouskat @passionofthesith 

[etainlives]

V: Flash Forward

VERSE TYPE: Star Wars AU (Time travel/Stasis)

TIME RANGE: Leaps from 21 BBY to ~32 ABY, takes place in the Sequel Era.

CHARACTER AGE: 19+

SETTING, TIMELINE, & CHARACTER:

In 21 BBY, shortly after being reunited with Omega Squad on Coruscant, Jedi General Etain Tur-Mukan was retasked and sent to investigate the rumor of a scientific lab operating on the Separatist-held world of Ketaris. 

Although Etain had originally been assigned to help remove and resettle Qiiluran colonists at the behest of the local Gurlanin population, the lack of other Jedi near the Celanon Spurr hyperspace corridor, Etain’s recent SpecOps experience and training, and Etain’s less than cordial relationship with the primary Republic Gurlanin contact, Jinart, lead Arligan Zey to overrule her assignment. Etain was instructed to discretely make planet fall on Ketaris and wait for ARC trooper reinforcement.

Unfortunately, local intelligence gathered groundside left Etain little time to wait for back up. She followed her lead- and her intuition- to a Separatist lab facility that had been set up beneath one of the world’s many oceans, in the ruins of a former Jedi Temple filled with a forgotten trove of kyber crystals.

Etain’s memory of what happened next precisely is hopelessly blurred, almost as if from some sort of traumatic accident. She remembers a strange Force-impression from the kyber, the feeling of surprise, and then- nothing.

[[Etain was either transported through Space Magic  the power of The Force or held in some sort of stasis containment that eventually failed.]]

The next thing she knew, she was waking more than 50 years in her own future, a lone Jedi Knight in a galaxy that had long forgotten them, the veteran of a war that had morphed decades of unrest. Likely no one would have ever believed her, had a Resistance fighter on the run not witnessed her re-emergence. 

The Resistance fighter, seeing her lightsaber and robes, took her immediately to Resistance command. Although initially Etain tried to seek out the fate of those she’d known in her own timeline- namely Darman Skirata, Kal Skirata, and Arligan Zey- the search proved both fruitless and soul-crushing. Eventually, seeing no way forward but to move forward, she allowed herself to be roped into the Resistance ranks, those her Jedi status was hidden for fear it would prove too hard for other Resistance fighters to accept.

[[Mun’s note: At the moment, I’m making the assumption that for this verse’s sake Etain wasn’t pregnant with Kad when she was transported. However, I may change that decision later. It remains undecided.]]

[thesummerstorms]

Edge of Collapse (Order 65 AU)

Verse Type: Star Wars AU (What If/ Alternate Timeline)

Time Range: anywhere from 19 BBY on

Character Age: 21+

Order 65: In the event of either (i) a majority in the Senate declaring the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) to be unfit to issue orders, or (ii) the Security Council declaring him to be unfit to issue orders, and an authenticated order being received by the GAR, commanders shall be authorized to detain the Supreme Commander, with lethal force if necessary, and command of the GAR shall fall to the acting Chancellor until a successor is appointed or alternative authority identified as outlined in Section 6 (iv).

Setting, Timeline, & Character:

In 19 BBY, Mace Windu successfully (and legally, using the pretext of Order 65) removed Chancellor from Palpatine from office. The struggle was reportedly brutal, and resulted in the apparent loss of Anakin Skywalker and the death of several dozed of the Senate Guard, though precise details are known only to the Jedi Council and the Security Council.

Immediately afterward, Coruscant was plunged into chaos and the Separatist movement quickly, inexplicably dissolved. While many supported the end of the war, there were just as many citizens who saw the Jedi as leading a coup.

When the smoke finally began to clear, Bail Organa, himself not a member of the Security Council, became Acting Chancellor of the Republic. Her quickly but quietly replaced several key officials and committee members with representatives of the Delegation of 2,000 using the emergency powers granted to Palpatine previously, before reverting all powers to their constitutional forms. Despite the latter, he, too, has been eyed with considerable suspicion. Other Senators, such as Padme Amidala of Naboo, retired altogether from the public eye.

Nor did the Jedi Order escape unscathed. It's uncertain which the High Council found more surprising: the resignation of Yoda as Grandmaster, or the departure of Obi-Wan Kenobi, who after the death of his former Padawan left the Order after an impassioned cry for reforms.

Although there's still "mopping up" to do within star systems with Separatist hold outs, the Grand Army of the Republic has been left on uncertain ground. With no true war left to fight and Palpatine's manipulations at least somewhat beginning to come to light, public perception of the soldiers (and notably of the expense of maintaining an army beyond the perennial system Judicials) has shifted noticeably for the worse. While some would like to officially dismiss clones from service all together, no world has proposed giving them citizenship, and it remains unclear precisely where they would go.

Kal Skirata's plans for desertion were still in motion at the time Order 65 was declared, leaving Omega Squadron and Etain both still within the command structure when things fell apart. Unable to easily leave during the resulting chaos, both have remained bound on Coruscant until very recently. Now Skirata is pushing for a final ex-fil.

Etain is conflicted. This is her opportunity to finally withdraw to a quiet family life- but in doing so, she fears she may be abandoning her duty. In this time of complete upheaval, there are few in the Order she trusts, other than perhaps Arligan Zey, to look beyond their internal troubles and advocate for the troops of the GAR. Nor does she fail to recognize that perhaps this is the moment where the Order might be changed- this time for the better.

Regardless, if things continue spinning out as they have, with resources heavily drained from the war and a divided civilian populace, the galaxy still remains just this side of collapsing altogether. Even Mandalore won't be exempt from the trouble if that happens.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I reread the part in Order 66 where Zey sends Etain to Kashyyyk, their last conversation before her death, and I’m quite upset about the writing of it. It starts off well, but it goes off the rails right at the end.

To give the end context, the lead in. Once her assignment to Kashyyyk is settled, Zey changes the subject:

“I know what you do, Etain.”

She didn’t sense any accusation or disapproval in him. Her first thought, though, was that he knew her secret. “What do I do?”

“You treat your men as equals.”

“Well, they are. At the very least.”

“I meant that I approved. As soon as I can get this discussed by the Council, I intend to improve our command style with our troops—I know we’re sadly lacking in too many areas. A little respect and kindness go a very long way.”

While Etain feels Zey is late in this attitude, she also notes that Zey has treated the troopers well, and that as Jusik’s Master, the pair would’ve never had that long a relationship if they couldn’t see eye-to-eye on this matter. After Maze briefly appears to deliver some datapad, and then leaves with caf Zey offers him, Zey turns the conversation to the clone troopers’ futures. He asks Etain for her thoughts, she tells him they must plan to give them full lives, freedom and choice.

Zey was silent for a long time. Etain didn’t feel inclined to interrupt his thoughts. She could see him standing up at the Jedi Council to make that point, and she didn’t want to imagine their reaction. It was one depressing thought too many.

“It’s so easy to become accustomed to the abnormal and unacceptable simply by being exposed to it for too long,” he said. “We get used to doing terrible things. That’s why I need the Skiratas of this world. He lives his compassion, even if he has no idea what it is philosophically. But so many of us cherish it as a theory, without application.”

“Well, let’s both apply it now, shall we, sir?” she said. “I’ll see you on my return.”

As she felt the whisper of air from the doors closing behind her, Etain had the feeling that she was abandoning Zey in the throes of a quiet crisis, and that he might have needed to talk to her for much longer.

My issue here is that Zey’s personal, moral crisis hinges upon a counterpoint to Kal in the end—even though the entire conversation up to that point was about Etain’s views, Etain’s behavior, and Etain’s ideas of how they all can do better the future. It’s a conversation about Jedi, how they’ve failed, how they can do better. Zey is the Master who say Etain to Knighthood, and here he implicitly asks her for guidance; this is, very much, a conversation about their relationship and a shift in their dynamic, that he as her Master is asking for guidance.

Kal is brought in as a comparison, as the example of one who has done better, but up until this moment, Etain has been that example. Why does Kal displace Etain in a conversation that is strongly about Etain and Zey? Why can she not be the example?

And, it just really strikes me because of how Zey and Etain start their relationship: when Zey tries to leave Niner and Fi behind on Qiilura, Etain threatens to strand them all there. Zey finally gives in:

“I feel your certainty has its roots in the Force,” he said. There was a sigh in his voice. “What’s your name—Darman? So you have names, do you? Darman, go where she directs you. She values your lives more than she values becoming a Jedi Knight.” Etain made as if to follow him. “You stay, ma’am. Please.” “No,” she said. “I won’t leave you, any of you.” She was holding her lightsaber as if she were part of it now, not like something she feared would bite her. “I realize this is gross disobedience, Master Zey, but I really don’t think I’m ready to become a Jedi Knight yet.” “You’re completely right,” Zey said calmly. “And we do need these men.” Darman followed her, looking back for a second at the general. He looked as if he was smiling. Darman could have sworn he seemed almost proud.

And, I’m just stuck thinking about how their final conversation makes a round back into that. Zey and Etain, Etain’s compassion and Zey’s approval. And, how much more resonant would this moment have been if, instead of bringing in Kal, Zey called back to Etain’s actions years ago—she acted right ever since the beginning, and though he never could quite manage it himself, he was always proud. He’s asking her for guidance now.

[jacensolodjo]

@speartip-doc replied to your post: So I'm kinda curious, I've been going through a...

I was primarily referring to just the Alpha ARCs. My impression from the books was that Spar signed onto the culture because Mando'ade culture was the best option for a soldier with no links, same situation for Sull. While Spar does eventually become Mandalore it feels like he does so and the prodding of others rather than duty. It just felt like Jango didn’t instill anywhere near the cultural identity that Skirata did.

The main problem with trying to suss out what Jango did or did not do through the RepComm novels is because he wasn’t a focus. Neither were the Alpha ARCs. This isn’t necessarily a failing it is simple fact that the Alphas/Jango were not of interest. The novels honestly already had far too many subplot points. We only see Jango through Kal’s eyes, not an impartial observer. 

But we do know, through Maze, Sull, Spar, 17, that there was more to it. 

The thing with Spar is viewed through observers that already have a bias against Alphas anyways. We can’t entirely know what he did and why. We can infer based on what actually happened. We know that he did respect the old traditions through the sheer fact of what he decided to do while naming himself ‘Mandalore the Resurrector’. 

But like I said, there’s this overarching idea of Jango being entirely hands off, of doing wrong by the clones. But I don’t think the Alphas were disconnected from the culture. Not when they obviously follow Resol’nare just as much as any other Mandalorian. And they have more than passing knowledge of the culture shown through dance, speech, dress. 

In the end, there’s nothing that says 100% that they are dar’manda. And I have never believed they were.