#the umbara arch

[spare-parts-101]

The biggest fool of them all

[galeofquarterdeep]

A few silly thoughts abt the domino squad

The domino squad is probaly one of the most important but also somehow underrated parts of the entirety of the Clone Wars series.

The name 'Domino Squad' is like one of the first things that strikes me as something remarkble. It describes the characters perfectly. They are called the Domino squad because they set off a domino effect!

So we start out with their training; they weren't able to work together, which ultimately led to Hevy forming a closer bond to 99. Hevy, Droidbait and Cutup died on Rishi, but Echo and Fives were pushed forward, back to Kamino. Dominos fell and pushed forward their brothers. If 99 hadn't been close to Hevy, he would probably not have been as confident as he was during the Battle of Kamino. This led to his death, the death of a Hero but if it hadn't been for Hevy's influence on 99, he might not have fallen that way.

Echo and Fives became Arch troopers, which led to Echo's death and Fives' isolation. Fives grew closer to Tup and Rex, this made him one of the people Rex trusted the most. During Umbara it was Rex's trust in his men (in the episodes the focus is on Fives) that made him question Krell's decisions. They survived Umbara because of this.

Fives discovered the inhibitor chip, which he might not have if he hadn't grown close to Tup. And it was Fives' words to Rex that were the first thing that Rex remembered during the Order 66. Rex being able to remember Fives and warn Ahsoka in those last few seconds, made it possible for him and Ahsoka to survive.

The last domino fell and revealed a pattern that was twisted and cruel but not unsavable.

THEREFORE, I believe that the name of the Domino Squad is a reference to the roles they play in the Clone Wars. They are the reason there was still hope at the end. They were so much more important.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[vodika-vibes]

nooooo Rynn and Delta Squad have to go back to work again 😞

It was bound to happen eventually. But they're all sad about it.

@moonwrecked

"How are the messages coming?" Fixer asks as he steps into the main part of the ship, his eyebrow arching up when he sees that Sev is sprawled on the couch and Rynn is sitting next to him. "We're being sent to Naboo to investigate the former Chancellor." Rynn says, and then she tilts her head, "I think. I'm not sure if this message is saying someone already did or not." "She also had a message telling her to investigate Drommand Kaas, Dantooine, Jedha, and Umbara." Sev reports, "Oh, and an order to return us to Kamino from someone who may, or may not, have actually been a Jedi." Fixer frowns, "The Jedi wouldn't separate us." He says, though he sounds uncertain. "I forwarded that message to you so you can dig into it," Rynn admits with a glance at him, "I think it came from someone else, though. Also, I have no intention of sending you to Kamino." "Protective." "Bite me." Rynn huffs. "Maybe later," Fixer teases and is rewarded with a pillow to the face, "I'll look into it. Where are we going?" "For now, Naboo. If we get there and it's already been investigated, great. If not, then it needs to be done." "At least Naboo is peaceful?" Scorch says from where he's been listening to the conversation. "Naboo has a long tradition of training children as body doubles for the child ruler, which suggests to me that there's a history of attempted assassinations against said child monarch." Rynn replies, "I wouldn't call that peaceful." "You can think about it later." Sev finally declares as he hooks his arms around Rynn and pulls her back, "It's two weeks to Naboo, so relax." He orders as he nuzzles her cheek. Rynn just laughs and relaxes against him.

[sunnyxjarrus]

Rewatching the Umbara arch and in the beginning of The General Krell kicks a dead clone

[blueburds-but-swtor]

The Path Ahead; Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

“I’ve continued my investigations while keeping your theory in mind, Commander,” Lana said, accompanying Altrethir on a walk through the Alliance base. “But I haven’t had much luck in finding anyone who’s seen Theron. Hylo and her crew haven’t provided any new intel, either.”

          “He will show himself when he is ready,” Altrethir said. “For now, we are to maintain appearances: Play our roles as hurt, betrayed allies. Allow whoever he is working with to believe we are none the wiser.”

          Lana gave a small nod as she set down her datapad. “I’d love nothing more than for your predictions to be correct. But... on Umbara, I should have sensed it. Even on Iokath, I should have felt something through the Force.”

          “And Theron knew you could have. Any of us could have. His training to shield his mind has benefited him in the past, just as it did against you. Do not be overly-critical of yourself.”

          “That’s how we improve, isn’t it?”

          “You fail to take all the factors into account, thus placing yourself in an irrational predicament.”

          “If you say so, Lord Valran.”

Later, Altrethir made his way down to the Underworld Logistics. He spotted Lana, Hylo and an unfamiliar Twi’lek with them.

          Lana turned, “Commander,” she nodded in greeting. “My team has doubled their efforts to locate Theron, as you requested. But in a pleasant turn of events, someone useful came to us without my team’s involvement.” Lana gestured to the Twi’lek woman at her side, “This is—”

          “Teff’ith. Can introduce ourself.”

          Altrethir arched a brow. The name was familiar, certainly. Her attitude, her features, her accent—yes. He knew this woman. Well, not personally, but Theron had mentioned her in stories. Notably, how she was like that of a sister to him; the Jedi who raised Theron acted as a father figure to him, and to Teff’ith.

          “I know of you,” Altrethir said. “Though, I wish our meeting circumstances were different.”

          “Know your face and voice. You made big call over the holonet,” Teff’ith said. “Wanted Theron to come back. Have leads we can give you.”

          “Anything would help and would be most appreciated.”

          “Been monitoring old contacts. Contacts with connections to Theron. Talked with big important Chiss. Said they need to be secret, can’t come to Eternal Alliance directly.”

          “So they have leads. We shall need to go to them,” Altrethir said. “Do you have means to get us to a meeting place with them?”

          “Commander, if I may,” Lana interrupted, “We don’t know if we can trust her information. Or her, to that matter.”

          “I am placing my faith in her.”

          “Have unfinished business with Theron,” Teff’ith interrupted. “Have to find him. Have to finish things.”

          “She is like a sister to him, Lana. He’s told me of her,” Altrethir said. “She may be our only lead.” He looked down to the other Twi’lek and gave a jerk of his head, gesturing for her to follow. “Come. We shall depart straight away.”

          Teff’ith glanced between him and the others before promptly starting after him.

          Lana sighed.

.

“Message sounded personal,” Teff’ith said as she plopped herself down in the pilot’s seat of her shuttle. “How you know Theron?”

          “It is a long story,” Altrethir replied, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair, “but he has been my boyfriend for about a year and a half now.”

          Teff’ith rose a brow, then she grinned in amusement, “Stupid Theron. Dating his work, not people. When he get time for a boyfriend? And when he like Sith?”

          “I could have asked him the same question,” Altrethir said. He watched as she flipped some switches and punched in coordinates. “Your accent is Huttese.”

          “Yeah? And?”

          “Would you find it more comfortable to speak in Huttese? I am fluent.”

          She gave it a moment of thought but shook her head, “No. Good practice for Basic.” A pause. “Thanks, though.”

          The ship pulled out from the docking bay and ascended into orbit above Odessen. With a few more switches flipped and buttons pressed, the shuttle took off into hyperspace. She leaned back in her chair as the stars whizzed by around them. “Will take a little while to get to Copero.”

          “We are heading straight into a Chiss-controlled world? How do you have the clearance for that?”

          “Contact has that covered. You worry a lot.”

          “Yes, well—this is quite the endeavor. I like to know every detail possible, as it eliminates potential risks and failures further down the road.”

          “Not risking a lot. Just doing things Theron’s style.”

          “His style would involve a bit more flare,” Altrethir smirked and folded his arms over his chest. He found comfort in talking fondly of his lover—especially to one who understood him as much as Altrethir did.

          “You level-headed,” Teff’ith said. “You think. Not daring, not bold. Not flashy.”

          “I can be, just… Not in this situation.”

          “We bring him back,” Teff’ith insisted, “so we can punch him in the face.”

          “Is that your ‘unfinished business’?”

          Teff’ith crossed a leg over the other and waved a hand dismissively, “Asking too many questions.”

.

Docking on Copero seemed to be the least of Altrethir’s worries. They landed smoothly, the clearance Teff’ith’s mysterious Chiss friend proving unfaulty. They pulled into a hangar, enclosed completely, then exited the ship. There was a particular sense of luxury about the place; for as filthy as a docking hangar should be, the walls, floors and ships all looked pristine.

          From wide double doors emerged two Chiss guards escorting a taller, definitely more important-looking Chiss man, along with a human woman. Teff’ith walked toward them to meet them halfway, Altrethir following just behind. “Got who you wanted,” she said.

          “Commander, what a pleasure it truly is to finally meet you,” the man offered a polite bow and a smile. “I am Aristocra Saganu of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Force, and I thank you for traveling all this way. What I can offer you will benefit us both.”

          “Teff’ith says you have leads on the whereabouts of Theron Shan,” Altrethir said.

          “I do. Come, walk with me.”

          Altrethir and Teff’ith followed as the guards circled behind them, escorting from a respectable distance. The base itself was exquisite; such a high level of class could rival the home of the richest Hutt. Although they were within a base of operations, it felt like that of a palace.

          Peering outside from a large window, Altrethir could see a silver fountain; delicate ribbon-like shapes intertwined upward as water cascaded from the top and into the pool below. Bordering the courtyard were native flowers, all within a select color scheme of warmer tones. And the stones that were laid out for a path glistened when the light caught them at just the right angle. As they walked in silence and as he listened to the fall of the water outside, he thought there was something truly enchanting about this world.

          In fact, he was so distracted that he nearly didn’t turn the corner in time. But he continued to follow the Aristocra through the base and into his personal office. He gave a dismissive wave to his guards as they bowed and stood just outside the door, then addressed his guests; “No point in wasting any time, then. Syndic Zenta of House Inrokini is providing aid to Theron Shan. In doing so, she is violating orders from the Ascendancy.”

          “He is here? On Copero?”

          “As far as we know, Commander, yes.” Saganu sat at his chair behind his desk, gesturing to the other two chairs for the Twi’leks to sit. “A political war would surface if we were to get involved with House Inrokini; my forces cannot do anything. But,” he folded his hands atop his lap, “it would be in our better interest for outsiders to organize an attack. You would have your traitor, and we would have ours.”

          “The fastest my own forces can arrive is within two to three days,” Altrethir said, frowning, “We may not have enough time to make such a call.”

          “Esteemed Commander, you are all that would be required.”

          Altrethir raised his eyebrows, then the Aristocra continued, “House Inrokini is tough, but you did not earn your reputation from trivial tasks and missions.”

          “The task is not above my level of skill. I suppose I simply didn’t expect that as our solution.”

          “Then we are in agreement? We may act as soon as possible.”

          “I will need more details before I begin. Transportation, location, a holo image of your traitor, so forth.”

          “We’re coming with you,” Teff’ith spoke up, “And not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

          “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the action,” Altrethir replied.

          “Very good. Here, I shall provide you with all the details you need,” Saganu clicked a button upon his desk, then holo images appeared before them. . .

.

The assault went underway. Altrethir and Teff’ith fought their way into the cargo hold where they trapped Zenta. Once beaten, she revealed that Theron, too, had ultimately betrayed her. With that information, Altrethir also discovered that Theron was now working with an unknown organization—one who was in search for a superweapon that could destroy the Eternal Alliance. Zenta had given him access to their final piece for their puzzle: the location of a holomap with coordinates that led straight to the superweapon.

          With the Aristocra’s help through the comms, he guided Altrethir and Teff’ith up toward the location of the holomap. Tucked away in chilled, snowy mountains lied ruins—ruins in which Altrethir would’ve loved to inspect in closer detail, but given the circumstances, there was little time to do so.

          But by the time they reached the top of the ruins, where the holomap lied, they were too late. At the top of the tower, two figures boarded an awaiting shuttle.

          “There!” Teff’ith grabbed Altrethir’s arm and pointed up. “Getting away! Hurry!”

          Altrethir ran with speed he didn’t know he had. He didn’t think he could stop that shuttle from escaping; not with the Force, not by any means. But he still ran. Then among a small crew of Chiss, he spotted the man they were after. Theron turned, noticing them just as the ship began to move away, and his eyes widened in surprise.

          “You--!” Teff’ith shouted, but her face scrunched into a sneer. “Your hair is stupid!”

          “Theron!” Altrethir called, desperation underlying his tone. But that was all he could manage. He felt a heavy ache in his chest and his mind was clouded by emotions so strong that he couldn’t think clearly. But as a second passed and as he watched the shuttle begin to move further away, he rushed closer and thrust his arms forward, channeling everything he had to bring it to a halt.

          And he strained, gritting his teeth as his feet dug into the snow below. His raw passion and determination strengthened his hold. Teff’ith glanced between him and the halted shuttle before drawing her blaster. She fired a few shots toward it, hoping to hit something important, “You come down, friends don’t die!”

          But Theron seemed to have no intention of surrendering. A figure in the ship spoke to Theron, and judging by their body language, they seemed to disagree with something. They also seemed. . . intimate? Perhaps Altrethir was mistaken, as he was indeed seeing red in the moment. The figure then drew a lightsaber from their belt and leapt from the platform, down toward the two Twi’leks. His daring red eyes peered to Altrethir, “This is the end of the line for you, Commander.”

          Teff’ith took aim and blasted straight at her foe. Altrethir turned the second he heard blasterfire, reaching out toward her instinctively, “Wait!”

          The Chiss deflected her shots, sending one straight back toward her. The bolt found her shoulder and she yelped in pain, grasping her wound and gnarling her teeth at him. Altrethir sent a current of sharp electricity straight toward the other man but his own attack was absorbed into his opponent’s lightsaber. He watched Teff’ith climb to her feet and snatch up her blaster again. Then she fired.

          The bolt hit the Chiss in the leg, causing him to lose his focus for all but a second. Altrethir dashed forward and drew his own blade and swung it in a downward strike. With the Sith’s attacks and Teff’ith’s blasts, the Chiss was outmatched.

          Yet Altrethir knew his foe wasn’t trying to stop them: he was trying to stall, to buy Theron time. Unfortunately, it was working. The shuttle had taken off, away from the battle and away from the ruins.

          Teff’ith hit a lucky shot, and Altrethir found his opportune moment. His blade sliced through the Chiss’ wrists, of which the man cried out in pain. Altrethir lifted him in a Force choke and held him in the air, “If you have any desire to live,” he growled, “you will give me the location of the superweapon.” He dropped the Chiss against the snow.

          But as his response, the man spit blood into the snow by Altrethir’s boots.

          “Doesn’t really value his own life,” Teff’ith muttered.

          “Then we take him captive and allow Thexia to personally interrogate him,” Altrethir said. He didn’t know if the Ascendancy would allow him to take one of their own off-world, even if he did work with the traitors--

          A crack of a sniper shot rung through the mountain range and Altrethir whipped around, watching their prisoner collapse to the ground as blood pooled around the skull. Teff’ith grabbed Altrethir’s arm and yanked him behind cover with her, eyes wide with fear.

          “Need to go,” she hissed. “Now.”

          So much for the interrogation idea.

[happytroopers]

Fives and Dogma for 20. "What-ifs/Alternate Timelines" maybe?

Fives:

In my mind, he survives the whole Chip ordeal. Like skin of his teeth everyone besides Rex thinks he’s dead

Rex smuggles him to Salecumi (idk how to spell it) where Cut and Suu nurse him back to health

Think Fennec in the Mandolorian, mechanical insides and such

Obvs this makes Rex more Savvy to the chip situation but like one battle at a time

Once Fives stabilizes and is able to make more sense, Rex gets his chip out, which enables him and Ahsoka to rescue a couple more clones when order 66 comes around

When Rex first suspects Echo is still alive, He keeps it from Fives not wanting to get his hopes up for nothing - plus it’s dangerous to communicate too much lest Cut and Fives be discovered.

But until he can be sure Echo is still completely himself he can’t tell Echo ab Fives but he never explicitly says he’s dead either he’s always just like “he’s not WITH US anymore”

Flash forward to post order 66, Echo is with the Batch, Fives is with Cut, the galaxy is currently in chaos

As we know, Rex blew through Salucemi and finally told Fives everything. He’s mad at first but long term understands, he’s relieved that Rex and Ahsoka are alright, and they both mourn the 501st together

Fives knows he has to go find Echo, bc the domino squad sticks together and he lowkey feels guilty he left him at the citadel AND never figured out he was alive

BUT Cut and Suu notice all the empire stuff and know they have to get them and the kids out of there so instead of leaving with Rex he agrees to stay and help Cut and Suu until they leave and then he’d strike out on his own

He goes to town the next day for whatever reason

Low and behold when he comes back there’s this little blonde girl that looks a lot like him playing with the kids

And then Cut comes out followed by the batch

He doesn’t immediately recognize Echo

Echo would recognize that stupid goatee anywhere

OBVS they reunite and it’s beautiful and touching and heartbreaking.

I genuinely think Fives and the Batch would vibe ESP without Crosshair ++ I just know him and Omega would get along

Idk how he’d really fit in the plot of the Bad Batch / helping Rex with the rebellion

But after the chip incident I doubt he has a lot of trust for any form of over arching authority

But he’s just like “I FUCKING TOLD YOU REX.”

But I doubt that he and Echo would separate again

This leads them to get their chips out earlier saving Wrecker a lot of trauma

Speaking of, I think he’d REALLY vibe with Wrecker Bc Wrecker would remind him of Hardcase

Tech upgrades his mechanical lungs and such bc the black market stuff Rex was able to get his hands on was not up to Techs standard.

Hunter is slightly indifferent but appreciates another set of eyes and hands, more ppl to keep Omega safe. He’s glad Echo was reunited with Fives though bc he knew how hard it was for Echo to come back and barely know anyone but Rex.

He and Crosshair(should our fave sniper ever return) would not vibe. At all.

Think Steve and Bucky but if Steve didn’t time travel back to his side piece

Dogma:

My alternate timeline Dogma makes very little sense but I love him all the same

So the event of Umbara happen as they did canonically

Despite feeling a lil guilty ab it Rex sends him back to Kamino feeling a lil guilty ab it but Dogma understands. His brother don’t trust him anymore which is heartbreaking all in it’s own right, he doesn’t trust himself, and now he’s learned that he can’t even trust command as he used too

But despite all that he’s seeing the world through a mew lens. His moral code has been flipped upside down, he’s not sure who to trust and for the first time he’s allowing himself to question things

He’s distrustful of the Kaminoans as they move him through his “psych eval”. They keep saying that as soon as he’s deemed fit for duty, he’ll be reassigned to a new unit

He stops answering their questions as honestly, telling them the “correct answers” he knew he was supposed to

One day as he’s waiting for his brain scans he sees a data pad laying on the side table, outline his treatment plan.

This wasn’t a brain scan- this was reconditioning. To forget what he saw on Umbara and be retrofitted as a maintenance clone.

He does a little more digging as he waits for the Kaminoan scientist to come back, and of course he eventually comes to some information ab the chips.

First and foremost, after having his world view rocked, he’s immediately like, “ok excuse you, you can’t take my memories just bc you don’t like the negative light this puts on you and the Jedi.”

Then, esp with this newfound distrust of the Jedi and most of high command, he’s really not as chill with the chip as he once would have been

At that moment there’s no way to escape, he’s sitting on an operating table, there’s two armed guards on the other side of the door, he’s in nothing but Kamino plain clothes, there’s approx 100,00 soldiers between him and anything that could fly, not to mention the blockade around the planet. He needed more time to plan al he could do was grab a piece of flimsy and write down bullet points on what he found and who he was, he shoves in between the layers of his clothes and just hopes it’ll be there when he comes out on the other side

He has to put everything as he found it. As the Kaminoan comes in and asked questions as if they weren’t about to psychologically torture him, he forces himself to answer as if he knows nothing. Even if it’s through gritted teeth and with a harsh glare.

They give him a sedative and all he can think before the medicine takes affect is “don’t forget who you are. Don’t forget what they did to you. Don’t forget what they’ve done to your brothers.”

He wakes up in a random bunk, he feels angry but can’t remember why. He knows there’s something he needs to do, but can’t remember his purpose. There’s a uniform folded on his foot locker- he recognizes as Kamino Sani-Workers uniform?? Was that what he was supposed to do? Why couldn’t he remember doing it before? But what did he do before?

He sits up, something is rustling and crinkling under his clothes. Even more confusion but before he gets the chance to check a Kaminoan escorted by an officer walk in.

They call him by his CT number which shouldn’t have been a problem, but he knew that’s not what he should be called- but didn’t know what he was expecting. They say their glad he was awake, that he injured himself in a fall while cleaning- that would explain the amnesia, but somehow he just knew that was wrong. He was almost shocked by the amount of anger that surged through as his brain just screamed- they’re lying to you!

The Kaminoan told him that once he underwent some scans and check ups, another Saniworker would fill in any gaps and explain his jobs, and then left saying they’d be back for him tomorrow, not to leave to room barracks and that dinner would be brought to him later.

Once he was alone again and he knew he was alone, he inspected the odd rustling in his clothes and pulled out the flimsy that had been shoved behind in between the layers. It was folded twice and the handwriting inside was frantic.

It was bullet pointed, informing his that his name was Dogma, it outlined the events on Umbara, Don’t trust the Jedi was underlined emphatically, Don’t trust high command was next, that they had reconditioned him and then something about a chip in his brain that needed to come out once he got away.

Some of this sparked flashes of memory and surges of emotion, a bioluminescencent planet, a blonde clone with an angry look on his face and then the same clone with a sympathetic look in his eye, two clones in an execution block, they looked scared and angry, Dogma was holding a gun, then he was holding a different gun, he was in a cell, and now another blaster it was smoking, a Jedi in cuffs was dead, he killed the Jedi? A surge of anger, pride, and then immediate wariness- a transport to Kamino, scientists poking and prodding at him, a syringe, the inside of a scanner, darkness…

The onslaught of images- memories, he realized- split his head with a migraine. Later he would find out that reconditioning was most successful when subjects are unassuming and not brought into contact with environments or people that could trigger memories. But even unsuccessful, it fractured the mind to be toyed with like that.

With nothing to do, all he can do is sit in his bunk and think about what he knows, even if it splits his head to do it. He slips the piece of paper into an air vent, wedged under a loose screw so it wouldn’t blow into the wrong hands.

Days pass, all he can do is play into this new role he’s been cast in. Old memories flood back, a trooper with long hair and a tear drop tattoo, a human Jedi that didn’t spark the same hostility as the other. But so did inorganic memories- his brain trying to fill the gaps of his reconditioning. False memories of never leaving Kamino, spending days cleaning and fixing things.

He fights against those, forcing himself to read his piece of flimsy every night. Leaning into the memories that felt real, but not quite sure if he could trust those either.

Weeks have passed, it’s harder to not stay mad at the kaminoans and high ranked officers who knew what happened. How could his brothers let this happen? Did his former squad know this is what would happen when they shipped him off?

But the good thing about maintenance clones is that no one plays him any mind. Dogma knew that. So he kept jobs done perfectly adequate and perfectly on time for weeks, and before long the Kaminoans lost interest in him. Assuming the reconditioning had done its job.

This gave him wiggle room. He knew where the cameras were, and therefore the blind spots. He knew when security made their rounds, when which cadets went where for training. He knew that how much time he had down the second that he wouldn’t be seen as he accessed the data terminal in one of his blind spots.

It was in those tiny time pockets he learned more about himself. What he accomplished, this missions and planets he’d been on, who he had served with, the names and numbers of his batch mates and which ones of them were still alive. He had been in the 501st, with war heroes CT 7567, ARC 5555, ARC 1409, Commander Ahsoka Tano, and General Anakin Skywalker.

It was also there that he found the nitty gritty about the Umbara mission, the unabridged version of what happened there. He used a stolen data stick to download both Captain Rex’s, Arc Trooper Fives’, and a Tup (one of the last remaining member of his squad.) so he could watch their debrief statements in their entirety.

And since the Umbara mission was still under investigation, it was there he found his his armor and weaponry were being held in Kamino’s archives.

One day, when being assigned his tasks for the week, he’s assigned to a hangar bay for the almost every day. That’s when his plan formed.

Using help from his maintenance droid co workers, he used them to transport his armor to a cargo ship- civilian piloted- and then once he had the chance, he smuggled himself on the ship.

He felt a little guilty for stunning the poor civvie, a peach skinned twilek girl who hadn’t even seen him before she slumped over unconscious. With her stunned and safely locked in her quarters, he landed the ship on the nearest backwater and disappeared into a city’s underbelly with the ships cargo.

Which was immediately pawned off to a black market dealer- dogma didn’t feel too bad, the ship was mostly carrying first aid supplies and droid poppers, nothing too dangerous, and it padded his pockets with enough credits to get by for a while. The republic would think it was raided by pirates.

With his distrust for his brothers and the army now, he could never bring himself to fully don his armor again. He mostly used the arm guard vambrances, shin guards, and occasionally the chassis. But old habits died hard, even the pieces of armor he didn’t use were kept in pristine condition.

The pistol labeled “ARC 5555 DC17, execution weapon” had been in the same box as his armor. If the files and his fractured memories were true, he had used that to kill the traitorous Jedi that killed his brothers.

He carried that everywhere, a reminder to himself to never value authority over morality. And a reminder that he could do what needed to be done.

Eventually he got in the the private security sector on the backwater planet he landed on.

And once comfortable, he got a shady medical clinic to remove his chip

The war came and went, the Empire eclipsed the Republic. If Dogma had a distaste for the Republic, he harbored hatred for the Empire.

He never officially joined the rebellion, but every now and then Rex would hear rumors of a rogue clone that sabotaged an Empire shipment or freed Imperial prisoners.

Eventually found a comfortable life hopping between the same four planets, he made friends he could trust and eventually learned to trust his own mind again. It took him awhile but eventually he forgave his brothers for letting what happened to him happen

It might have taken years but Dogma did find peace

[writer1]

Comforts of a brother

Chapter two

A/N: This was adapted from my and @ct-7386’s rp. It’s little moments in Stutter’s and Dogma’s lives when they have helped eachother with comfort and cuddles. we hope you guys like it!

Warnings: Self hatred, nightmares, and hints of clonecest, Talk of Umbara, character death mentioned.

Stutter frowns, getting up from his bed with his blanket. He’s had a bad mission, making him feel like an outcast again. He stands up, carrying his blanket as he creeps to Dogma’s bunk. He’s sleeping with Tup again, the two having made up after Stutter yelled at all his brothers for how they were treating Dogma. He snuggles into Dogma’s side, just as he has in the past many times.

Dogma snuffles a little as he wakes, drawn from sleep by the additional warmth plastering itself to his side. Tup, as always - again, because Stutter had stood up for Dogma, had helped him make up with Tup, had set Dogma's world back on its axis - is fast asleep on his other side, up against the wall. "Vod'ika?" he asks the blurry shape next to him. "What's wrong?"

Stutter frowns. “The mis-mission is bugging me. It ma-made me feel like a defect. An out-outcast. Want to cuddle, ple-please?” He slightly begs, even though Stutter knows there’s no need. His voice quivers a bit as well.

Dogma's smile is tight. "Of course, Stut'ika." He turns on his side so that Stutter can snuggle up against his chest. Once they're both settled he admits quietly, "This mission bugged me, too."

Stutter snuggles right into Dogmy, clutching his blanket in one hand, and Dogma’s shirt in the other. “You t-too? I’m sorry.”

Dogma huffs. "That admiral, the one that was singling out vode for being outcasts. He just -" He has to grit his teeth against the anger. "He singled you out pretty hard, vod'ika."

Stutter whimpers, tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. “He wou-wouldn’t stop mocking my stut-stutter. And he brought up Um-Umbara to you. That was wr- wrong.” He whimpers again.

Immediately Dogma goes tense, jaw clenching. "Yeah," he agrees, not relaxing at all, "that wasn't - that wasn't fun."

Stutter lets out a sob. “I ha-hate it!! I hate stut-stuttering!! I hate being mo-mocked!!! I hate being def-defective!!” He sobs, being quiet as he can as not to wake Tup. His chest is heaving, heart shattering sobs coming from him. 

Dogma, though he's still a little stiff, curls around Stutter, fingers carding through his curls, the other rubbing his back. "Defective just means different," he says hoarsely, parroting what Tup has said to him so many times. That doesn't mean he believes it... "What they do, Stut'ika, is use our differences to isolate us, doubt our abilities - break us. That's how -" His breath hitches. "That's how Krell got me." He shivers and curls tighter around Stutter. "We'll be okay," he chants under his breath. "We'll be okay."

Stutter nods, shoving his head against Dogma’s hand, and arching his back against the other. “We’ll be ok-okay. We have eachother. We ha-have our other brother’s. And we have our boy-boyfriends. We aren’t alone. We’ll al-always have eachother to lean on wh-when we feel this way, right?”

Some of the tension drains from him, and he huffs quietly. "You've always seen the bigger picture, Stut'ika," he murmurs. "Yeah, yeah we have our vode, our cyares. And each other. I swear I won't ever leave to have to deal with this on your own, vod'ika."

Stutte smiles softly through his tears, nuzzling into Dogma. “I won’t ev-ever leave you either, Ori’Vod. N-Not ever.” He sniffles a bit, clutching his blanket right.

The last of the tension begins to drain away. "We "defects" gotta stick together, right?" he teases kindly, knowing Stutter won't take him seriously. He noses against Stutter's temple, drawing random little circles and lines as a way to calm both himself and his vod. "Is there anything else that's bothering you, vod'ika?"

Stutter chuckles. “Yeah, w-we gotta stick tog-together. Always.” He hums at Dogma nosing him., feeling him drawing lines. “No, the mis-mission was just bothering m-me... and I w-was in the mood to cuddle with you ton-tonight.” 

Dogma's lips quirk, and he pulls back a little. At some point Tup has shifted to curl against his back, forehead pressed between his shoulder blades, and it offers a comforting anchor to sap away his lingering anger and frustration. "Think you can sleep then?"

Stutter nods. “Y-Yeah, can I st-stay?” He asks, already knowing the answer as he wipes the last of the tears from his eyes.

"Always," Dogma replies, shifting just a little to make them all more comfortable. "You know you never have to ask, Stut'ika."

Stutter smiles, snuggling into Dogma. “I kn-know, but it’s polite to ask, Ori-Ori ’Vod.” 

Dogma huffs, smiling slightly and nuzzling back. "True." He makes sure Stutter has his blanket in hand before tucking him closer to his side.

Stutter hums, hugging his blanket close and cuddling into Dogma. He closes his eyes as his breath evens out, and he falls into a peaceful sleep.

--- Time Skip ---

Stutter wakes up with a gasp, sitting up straight as he breathes heavily, tears filling his eyes and falling down his face. He whimpers, standing up with his blanket in his arms, walking to Dogma’s bunk. But he doesn’t crawl in this time. He contemplates what he should do. He’s nine and a half now, he’s too old for this. But he wants his Ori’Vod. He sniffles, and makes his decision, crawling in beside Dogma. 

Dogma sighs softly and rolls slightly to accommodate the additional body. "Hey, St'ika," he slurs sleepily as he pulls his vod'ika to his chest. "Wassa matter?"

Stutter whimpers. “Night-Nightmares again, really bad th-this time.”

Dogma hums low and soothing, a little more awake. "'M sorry, St'ika." He yawns. "Wanna - Wanna talk about it?"

Stutter nods. “I... y-you were all just go-gone. I was all alone. No explan-explanation or reason, just poof into thin air, i-it... it was so scary.” He whimpers, nuzzling into Dogma.

Now Dogma is completely awake, and he frowns, tugging Stutter even closer. "That does sound scary. And a little out of the blue. You don't know why you might have a dream like that?"

Stutter whimpers. “I do-don’t know, but it was hor-horrible.” He sniffles, tears falling from his eyes. 

Dogma croons now and guides Stutter's face to his shoulder. "Easy, vod'ika. Just let it out. It'll feel better once you do. I got you, I got you."

He sobs into Dogma’s chest hard, hugging both his brother and blanket tight. He can’t stop crying. “It... It w-was so scary, Dogma. So so sc-scary.”

"I know, Stut'ika, I know. It's okay. I have you, I'm here, and I won't let anything like that happen," he promises fiercely. "You hear me? Ever, Stutter, I swear it as your ori'vod."

Stutter nods. “I kn-know, I know it���ll never hap-happen, it just...” he whimpers and curls into Dogma more. He holds on tight, clutching Dogma’s shirt in his hands until his knuckles turn white.

What else can Dogma do? He nuzzles against Stutter's head, mind grasping desperately at a solution. "Would you - Do you wanna go to the mess? Ask for a cup of cocoa? Would that help?" It's not a normal part of this ritual, but he needs something extra to help here, he can tell.

Stutter looks up at Dogma, biting his lip, but nodding. “Yes, ple-please. If... If you don’t mind get-getting up.” He whispers quietly, not wanting to disturb Dogma. “The night- nightmare had... it had Fi-Fives in it too, Dogma.” He adds, lip quivering at the thought of his dead husband.

Oh. Oh, Stut'ika, he thinks sadly, then murmurs, "Would you like me to carry you?"

Stutter nods, letting out a whimper as tears fill his eyes. “Ple-Please.”

Dogma carefully climbs over Stutter. Then he easily scoops his vod'ika up into his arms, blanket and all, and begins to creep quietly from the barracks.

It doesn't take long to make it to the mess, and they get a couple odd looks from vode before they see who it is Dogma is holding; then they all smile kindly and wish them a good night.

The mess hardly has anyone in it, and all conversations are kept to a low murmur. 

Dogma finds a corner a decent distance from others. "Can I leave you here for a minute to go get the hot cocoa, Stut'ika?"

Stutter lays his head against Dogma’s shoulder as he’s carried out, his eyes closing as he tries to stop crying. Once they make it to the mess, and Dogma asks if he can be left here, Stutter nods. “Y- Yeah.”

"Alright." Dogma sets him down gently and hurries off. He's back only a couple minutes later with a steaming mug of cocoa in his hand that he sets in front of Stutter with the smallest smile. "Be careful, vod'ika; it's still really hot." Dogma sits down close enough to wrap an arm around Stutter's shoulders and pull him against Dogma's side.

Stutter nods, blowing on the hot cocoa before taking a sip and humming. “Th-Thank you.”

"Any time, vod'ika." For a while they just sit in silence. Dogma watches the vode around them idly; he recognizes a couple from shifts they may have shared or from past battles, but he doesn't know anyone (though to be fair, he didn't know many people aside from the Tup, the Domino Twins, Rex, and Stutter, but... well, Tup, Echo, and Fives are all gone now. Two dead and one with another squad.). 

Stutter drinks up his coacoa, laying against Dogma. He sighs though. “I... I miss Fi-Fives, Dogma. And T-Tup is dead too, Echo is ba-back but he decided to go with the b-bad batch so I don’t see th-them or him a-as much... it feels like ev-everyone is leaving.” He lets out a quiet whimper, trying not to cry, but tears leak out anyway. ”Why did Fi-Fives have to d-die? It’s not f-fair.” 

Dogma swallows around the lump that forms in his throat at the reminder of everything they've both lost. "Life isn't fair," he grits out, perhaps a bit harshly, but - Tup died on Kamino, and a part of Dogma blames Fives for that. He crumbles a little, tears burning in his eyes. "I miss Tup," he admits in a whisper. 

Stutter sobs. “R-Rex told me... Fi-Fives was struck through the chest... F-Fox shot him!!! He was killed by a bro-brother, why!” he yells. “Fi-Fives dies telling crazy th-things about being contro-controlled. Then Tup dies and h-his body goes mis-missing. Why...” 

Dogma doesn't want to think about it - any of it, because every time it means acknowledging that Tup is really gone. Instead he inhales sharply to calm down and sets the cocoa back on the table so that Stutter won't accidentally spill it. Then he turns and pulls his vod'ika against his chest so that Stutter can cry in the privacy of his arms. "I know, Stutter. I know." Dogma is blinking back his own tears.

Stutter sobs hard. “I lov-loved him! I loved Fi-Fives so much, he wasn’t sup-supposed to go. He said he w-wouldn’t go.” He sobs into Dogma’s chest, breaking into a million pieces.

The tears fall. "I know," he gasps again. "Prime, Stutter, I know." Dogma swallows harshly. "I don't - I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry." He tightens his hold, buries his face in Stutter's curls, and rocks them slightly on the bench.

Stutter lets out a wail, holding onto Dogma tightly. He cries into his Ori’Vod’s chest for what feels like hours, before his lack of sleep catches up to him and he passes out crying.

Dogma holds Stutter through the entire thing until his vod'ika has exhausted himself. Once Stutter is asleep, he takes a moment to breathe and subtly wipe away his own tears. Then he picks Stutter back up and carries him back to their barracks. He curls around Stutter and falls asleep while trying to ignore the cold, empty space at his back.

After that things changed, but not for the better. That day Rex went to mandalore with Commander Tano and half the 501st. That day Stutter gave Dogma his blanket to nap with. And that day, Stutter was forced to commit genocide against all the younglings in the crèche. Things changed a lot, and they would never be the same for him, or Dogma

Taglist: @ahsokatano-thetogruta @haloangel391 @anstarwar

[rainofaugustsith]

Rain Plays SWTOR: The Nathema Conspiracy

Continuing with our "play before 7.0" series: The Nathema Conspiracy is the third flashpoint in the traitor arc, also known as Fractured Alliances. Your character will return to Nathema to deal with more fallout from Valkorion/Tenebrae's legacy - but Nathema is no longer a desolate wasteland. There's gorgeous scenery in the jungles with lush waterfalls and plants. There are also a number of suitably creepy abandoned temples holding deadly secrets. 

None of your decisions can prevent your character from taking major losses in this story segment, but you still have a win, in one respect. In another: if you have romanced Lana or Theron you really, really do not want to miss this one. 

How to get it: 

If you are playing through the story progression you will be given this mission after completing Traitor Among the Chiss. There will be a short story mission beforehand, as well as some story-specific scenes during and after the flashpoint. 

If you are playing this as a standalone you can pick it up from your activities menu: Activities -> Solo -> Flashpoints -> The Nathema Conspiracy. Or go to the Odessen base and pick it up from the terminal - it's across the hall from Umbara. 

General caveats: 

1. If you are doing this as part of the story progression you will have two companions to help you through most of this flashpoint, including all of the boss fights except one. They are companions you may have influenced in the story already, and one is melee while the other is ranged. It's a good team that can handle a lot, and the difficulty should be on the level of Umbara or Copero. 

If you are doing this as a standalone solo flashpoint, it's going to probably seem more challenging than Umbara or Copero. The reason of course is that you are handling content with only one companion instead of the two you get in the story. There's no combat assistance droid. 

2. This is also a bit longer than Umbara - easily 40 minutes simply because of the thick mobs. 

3. ACCESSIBILITY ADVISORY: There are several sections of this flashpoint that have very low light and paths that may be hard to see. If you have any armor with illumination  you may want to put it on your character for these stretches. 

4. ACCESSIBILITY ADVISORY #2: The Guardian Droid, which is the second boss in this flashpoint, makes a very, very loud and jarring repeated noise during the stage of its fight cycle where it curls into a ball and spins. If you have sensory sensitivities you may wish to mute your audio or turn it way down during this fight. 

5. CONTENT ADVISORY: If you're playing the story progression, there will be a cut scene before the last set of bosses that shows several dead bodies. The corpses will be visible for the rest of your time in this area and you will have to interact with the cases they are in. There's no blood or guts, you're just told they are dead and their eyes are closed. Another character will have visible blood and injuries on their face, so be aware that is coming.  

If you are just playing the standalone flashpoint you will not get these scenes, but you will still see the dead bodies  around the edges of the area and have to smash the cases they are in. But there are no closeups of the corpses.

6. Some cool decos drop from every boss, including plants, statues, temple arches and even a waterfall. There are also a few decos that seem pretty creepy to me, like crypts of essence, and I don't personally keep those. But if you're building a scary stronghold, maybe they will work. 

There's also a bonus mission to find seven treasure chests, which will grant you the choice of a Valkorion or Dramath holo. Hey, if you want Dramath's ghost lurking around your stronghold, here's your chance.

7. This is to my knowledge the only flashpoint where you can actually earn a companion - the droid H2-4F drops sometimes from the bosses. The droid actually keeps up well and is a good healer, especially when leveled up. 

8. If you have H2-4F, you may wish to come back to do this as a standalone solo flashpoint - there's an achievement for defeating the Guardian Droid with it as your active companion. 

9. Make sure you use the repair droids that dot the landscape. You will likely take a bit of damage in this flashpoint even if you are doing fine. 

10. There are a lot of platforms and ledges, so mind your self and don't fall. 

This flashpoint will see you running first through the lush Nathema jungles, through various enemy camps, and finally into ancient temples to face the Order of Zildrog. The mobs you face in the first section will consist of Force sensitive zealots and creatures; as you get closer to the temples the enemy NPCs will shift to rogue Knights of Zakuul, reprogrammed skytroopers and such. There are a few sections where you will need to watch your step to avoid falling off cliffs or platforms, but it's not as treacherous as, say, False Emperor. 

Boss #1: Voreclaw

The Voreclaw has a formidable stomp, which will fling you backward. Mind your step and don't stay near the edge of the cliff, or you may find that this fight will be very short. 

The adds in this fight are Juvenile Voreclaws. I recommend ignoring them and concentrating on the main boss. 

The way to win this fight is to get the giant Voreclaw to follow you into one of the three green circles in the area. This may be difficult - if your companion(s) are battling it, or the Juvenile Voreclaws, the boss may be ignoring you. Put your companion(s) on passive to get them to run to you in the circle, use a Taunt if you have one, do what you need to do to get the big guy to come to you in the green circle. Make sure you are standing next to the blue panel. Once it's there, click the blue panel, and the Voreclaw will be temporarily stunned and immobilized by a shock. Use this time to wail on it as much as you possibly can (and make sure you take your companion off passive so they can help you!), throw Heroic Moment abilities at it, the works. 

When the shock wears off, lead the Voreclaw to the next green circle and repeat. 

Just beyond the Voreclaw, there's an open elevator you will take to the next section. You will keep running through the lush forest toward the temples. Expect heavy mobs, and watch your step on the numerous catwalks. You will weave in and out of temples and forest paths until you get to a second elevator. 

Bonus Bosses: Hands of Zildrog 

Beyond the second elevator the path splits. Both will get you to the Guardian Droids, but the lefthand side has fewer mobs. It also leads you past the bonus bosses - the two Hands of Zildrog - and another treasure chest for the bonus mission. The Hands can be completely ignored, but if you fight them they do drop more decos and grant an achievement. They're Force sensitive and hit like the Zealots or Knights of Zakuul, with a bit more oomph to their game. 

If you've fought the Hands, give yourself a moment before the Guardian Droid to let your abilities cool down. 

Boss #2: Guardian Droid, or the Very Bad Dog

ACCESSIBILITY ADVISORY: The Guardian Droid makes a very, very loud and jarring noise during one stage of its fight cycle. If you have sensory sensitivities you may wish to mute your audio or turn it way down during this fight. 

BUG: There's a bug that makes it impossible to complete this fight because the Guardian Droid never wears down and the Hunter Droids don't change. If this happens you will know because the fight will go on and on and on. The only way out is to let the droid kill you. That seems to reboot whatever makes this fight go wonky. 

This Very Bad Dog will bound all over the place to bother you, followed by a sequence where it spins in a circle and throws things at you. There are Hunter Droids around the perimeter; hit them until the y cast a blue field instead of a red one. And then just keep hitting the Guardian.

Final boss sequence

There are three bosses in this sequence, but you will be able to pause between GEMINI-16 and Vinn Atrius. You will absolutely NOT be able to pause between Vinn and Zildrog. 

Make sure you have repaired your gear at the medical droid before venturing onward. Ready? Here we go.

CONTENT ADVISORY: If you're playing the story there will be a cut scene here with dead bodies, and one character will be injured with visible blood on their face, so be aware that is coming. If you're just playing through the flashpoint GEMINI-16 will be waiting for you to start your battle with her. 

Remember that there are four kolto stations around the sides of Zildrog. The one that is the most visible is the fifth - right on the edge of the platform. Be very careful if you're accessing this fifth kolto station for obvious reasons. 

There are three separate bosses to fight in this section, so get ready. You do have a pause between GEMINI-16 and Vinn Atrius. If you need to take some time to stretch or shake out your wrists, do it. 

Boss #3: GEMINI-16 

The GEMINI-16 fight is IMHO the most difficult one in the flashpoint. You will need to be on your toes, and there will be a lot happening at once. This fight will be considerably easier if you're playing through the story because again, you will have two companion NPCs helping you out. If you're playing the flashpoint as a standalone, it's going to be a bit tougher. 

You want to make sure you get out of the way of GEMINI-16's Integration Beam, because it will fry you faster than you can say "deadly droid." My strategy in the beginning of the fight is to hit her as hard as I can with as much as I can before she starts attacking, starting with Orbital Strike from Heroic Moment, and then attack as I circle, avoiding the Integration Beam. 

As the fight goes on, GEMINI-16 will summon lots of NPC adds and duplicates of herself. They draw power from four of the Crypts of Essence - shown in the picture above- which will light up. As soon as they light up, you want to destroy those Crypts one by one, avoiding the Integration Beam as well as you can. You may need the kolto stations, and it's honestly safer to run around Zildrog to grab a boost than to venture into the fray at the edge of the platform. 

Toward the end of the fight GEMINI-16 will begin using Obliteration Protocol - which, unlike Integration Beam, you cannot run away from or avoid. Just know where your kolto stations are, pop Unity or your self-heals as needed, and hang on. 

After you defeat GEMINI-16 you will have to click a panel on Zildrog to continue. You can pause for a moment if needed to wait for your abilities and Heroic Moment to cool down, shake out your wrists or just take a breather for a minute or two. 

Boss #4: Vinn Atrius 

Vinn Atrius is considerably easier than GEMINI-16 - and that's because in the story, he's engineered as a battle for two and not three. The key thing with Vinn is to stick close to your companion. Vinn will try to separate you and push you back - mind the edges of the platform for obvious reasons. Stick to your companion like glue, using Intercede if you have it to get close to them if you are separated. Vinn will draw power from the large yellow diamonds - Essence of Zildrog - that appear around the perimeter. Take these out if you can, but you don't need to kill them all to defeat Vinn. 

Boss #5: Zildrog

Zildrog is that large machine in the center of the platform. Just target and hit it the way you did with Mentor in Directive 7. The Zildrog fight starts immediately after Vinn Atrius dies. And being as how he's a large, immobile machine, he won't really attack...yet. See this little red buff above that nameplate? When that number reaches 20, Zildrog will release an attack that will instantly kill you. You don't want that to happen. So hit the machine with anything you have left - by now Heroic Moment may have well cooled down, so don't be shy about calling upon it again. You and your companion need to wail on that machine until it dies, before it reaches 20. 

After Zildrog dies, you do need to destroy any remaining yellow diamonds to get out of combat, but the countdown clock to annihilation has stopped so it's not quite as urgent. 

And, you're done. Hooray. If you are playing the story, there will be a purple triangle on one of the NPCs for you to click to get your concluding cut scene. If you've romanced Lana or Theron and you're playing the story, trust me, you will probably really be happy with this cut scene. If you're doing the flashpoint without the story, you can press exit area to leave.

[seasidewriter1-writes]

Replying to @elizabeth0020 for: Hello!! I’ve always wondered how you decide what arcs/episodes you’re going to write? There are sooooo many, how do you know what’s a good one for your story vs one that isn’t? And a second question (if you feel like answering lol): how do you picture all the details you wrote? Like lighting, movements, facial expression etc? You’re so good at that and I’ve always been amazed at how you come up with them!

I love answering anything and everything, so never worry about sending me too much! I don’t often get to talk about the technical stuff (like the questions you’ve asked), so I love getting any chance I have to talk about them! (So hold on tight, ‘cause this is a ramble! 😂)

So, for the first question regarding the arcs... I picked out what episodes/arcs I thought were beneficial when I did my first watch through of the Clone Wars this past summer. I had a google doc that I wrote down all the episode names in, then jotted down the preliminary ideas. Let me tell you, with a show that has seven seasons of 20+ episodes, it was... so daunting to even think about narrowing down what episodes and arcs to use. It was what initially deterred me from using any of them at all. So I started to look for things that I felt would directly impact Elara, her character, and her development. For example, I didn’t really use all of “Cat and Mouse” because the episode, on a whole, wouldn’t have Elara much involved in it. It did, however, provide a wonderful backdrop for her time on Christophsis, which is why I didn’t nix it entirely. Aside from forcing Obi-Wan and Elara to be tied together, “Dooku Captured” and “The Gungan General” were used to introduce her to Hondo, whom both allows her to be more playful, and showcases her knowledge of the seedier side of the galaxy. And there are plenty of episodes that I love and adore that I just... don’t think would fit. For as much as I love “Senate Spy” and the introduction of Clovis, there’s no way for me to put Elara into that episode and not have it feel forced. That’s another huge thing I look for when picking episodes; if Elara doesn’t feel like she would naturally fit into the storyline somehow, even if it’s indirectly, I’m not going to force her into it. That’s when I do things like mention the events of the episode in a chapter (like with “Clone Cadets”) instead of doing a whole episode. So Clovis is obviously going to get a mention (she’s Anakin’s sister and Padmé’s bestie, of course she’s going to hear about the debacle), but the whole episode won’t be written out.

Then, of course, you have the arcs. The ones that I had immediately chosen are (and these probably come as no surprise): Ryloth, Mandalore, Mortis, Slavers, and Deception. The arcs I find easier to choose because you have a chance to work with more surface area so to speak. It gives me a chance to really flesh out Elara’s part in the story, focus in on her and her emotions and how she’s tied to this particular plot. With the Mortis Arc, for example––Elara is a Skywalker. She is strong with the Force, and in the “Balance” verse, considered a Chosen One. That ties her into the Mortis Arc very interestingly, since it’s not just Anakin going God Mode. It’s going to lend me the chance to really dig deep into Elara, her connection to the Force, to the Light and Dark (the Daughter and Son), and her relationship to being a Chosen One. At first I was like ‘holy shit I’m never gonna be able to do this arc,’ and then when I buckled down and really thought it over... I realized it’s going to be really important for her as a character, and particularly her relationship with Anakin (stay tuned!). It also probably comes as no surprise that a lot of the arcs (and episodes) that get picked are influenced by whether or not Anakin or Obi-Wan are in them. Which is why I almost turned a blind eye to the Umbara Arc until someone brought it up. I did a rewatch of it and knew I had to include it, too. Because that’s going to be an awesome opportunity to flesh out how close Elara is to the 442nd, and be able to contrast her ideals as a General against those of Krell. A lot of the picking of episodes and arcs ends up being trial and error. I wrote the first four-ish pages of “Clone Cadets” before I realized it just didn’t flow right.

All this being said, I like to envision Elara is around for all of the Clone Wars episodes, so I’ve got lots of fun little random snippets for things that I’ll probably never write, but figure would happen in some part of a CW episode.

And after all that, here we finally are at your second question! ☺️

Coming up with all those small details is actually an amalgamation of things at work. I do attribute a lot of it to my training as an actor/theatre artist. I think about how, if I were directing it, how I’d want the movements to look, and how that would translate on both a small scale, and a large scale. A touch of a hand for Obi-Wan and Elara can feel like a world shifting movement––but come off as nothing but a simple, friendly gesture to their fellows. On a small scale, what makes the difference is the way the touch happens. How light the pressure of the touch is, how long it lasts, how slowly their fingers brush against the other person’s hand... all those things help me figure out the mood of that touch and how they’d respond to it. Also, when choosing words to describe movements I often think about the attitude attached to it. A ‘turn of the head’ when Anakin’s being moody may end up being a ‘swivel,’ or the ‘arch’ of an eyebrow from Obi-Wan is more sarcastic than a gentler ‘raise.’ I often agonize picking out those sorts of words. I’ll sit there and try them over and over again, then put them all into a Thesaurus website because I worry I use the same words too much. The thesaurus (particularly when writing Obi-Wan), is my best friend.

When I write mannerisms for canon characters, I use a lot of reference for. I’ll literally just scroll through gifs, watch movie clips, or rewatch the scene I’m writing to pick up on character-specific mannerisms. A couple chapters ago I was describing Anakin’s angry face, and I just looked at images of him from Revenge of the Sith (him alone in the Council room, him being knighted as Vader, his expressions on Mustafar, etc.) I’ll also do this for vocal ticks/inflections. I will also unashamedly admit I will sit there and compose my face into whatever expression I’m trying to describe. Sometimes feeling it physically, or physically composing it helps me come up with words or ways to describe the look. Same thing with touches AND with vocal inflection. Do I sit by myself and read what I’ve written aloud in my best Obi-Wan Kenobi cadence? Yes, yes I do. And has it helped me figure out what words/phrases do and do not work? Yes, it absolutely has!

Also, a lot of describing the details of motion/facial expression/touch gets affected by music for me. Like, if you listen to “Stairway to Heaven” as played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra while reading, say, the scene in “The Gungan General” where Obi-Wan and Elara wake up pressed up to one another... that song is just THE feel of that moment. Listening to the right music when writing (the little details especially) is big for me. Kinda like how “Blue Monday” is the music that works best for the bunker scene in “Storm Over Ryloth.”

There are also a lot of details that I pull from real life. I remember when I wrote Elara seeing Naboo for the first time—and consequently grass, trees, and flowers, too—it was summer time for me. I was staring out at the trees and the way the light filtered through them, watched how they swayed... the grass had just been cut and the breeze smelled sweet... and I was like ‘god, imagine experiencing this all for the first time.’ So I took what I felt and elevated it a little, tried to add a kind of wonder to the things that we all, for the most part, kinda take for granted. I like pulling on experiences I’ve had in real life as a basis.

I ask attribute a LOT of my detail work to my training as a theatre artist. I think about lighting now differently than I did a couple years ago; because I learned what kinda of light fit different moods. Like the scene of Obi-Wan at Dex’s would feel completely different if I’d described the light as cool toned. It would lack a sense of hope. His reminiscences would be sadder, it would feel more stark. The warmer tones suggest that there’s still heart and hope, a possibility for things to get better, and that reflects his inner life better than colder, bluer light. Or how I used light when I wrote Elara seeing Watto again after 10 years to describe her struggle between Dark and Light in that moment. She stepped out of the sun and into the shade because, for a moment, she almost gave in to the Darkness. (Inspired by the scene in Force Awakens where Kylo asks for Han’s help and the light shines down on them... with hints of red low lighting to hint at the struggle... only to have the light disappear as he overrides his own vulnerability, reverts to the Darkness and kills his own father).

I also love using physical objects as emotional triggers, like is done in theatre quite a bit. A good recent example being Elara’s lightsaber. Obi-Wan having it reminds him of his worries regarding her safety, and his struggle with choosing what path to take in regards to his feelings towards her. Or Elara with the Snow Blossom. These things have the ability to spark different emotions depending on the situation. On a good day, the Snow Blossom will make her smile; on a bad day, it may make her feel more sad than happy. And sometimes they don’t have to be objects—they can be bruises or scars or healing wounds. Having something physical spark an emotional response can be really helpful, and has actually helped me though rough spots in my writing.

I could literally go on for hours about all of this kind of stuff! So thank you for asking about it and giving me a chance to discuss it even a little bit! ☺️

[clonecest-bin-account]

Assorted Clonecest Fics - Forget (Codex) | E

Umbara has been a disaster. It could’ve been way worse, but it still has taken a toll on everyone.

Despite everything, Rex can’t help but to smile as he looks around himself and sees the men of the 501st and the men of the 212th really getting together. Eventually everyone will have to get back to their own ship, but for now they can have this moment of respite to spend together, they deserve it.

Speaking of deserving things, he needs to go find Cody, but before doing that he checks on his men. They’re all shaken, but they’re fine: Hardcase is still bedridden but he will heal eventually and Dogma’s bunking with Tup and Fives, who have taken on consoling the poor clone. They’ll all fight tooth and nails to make him stay here, where he belongs.

 Once he finds Cody, it takes but a look to understand that he’s being doing the same thing Rex was.

“Cody…” Maker, he sounds so tired. Given the way Cody looks at him, he also probably looks tired.

“Come here,” he says in fact, welcoming Rex in his arms. He’s about to say something else, but that’s not what Rex needs, so he cuts him off with a kiss before he can even begin.

“Wow… ok,” Cody mutters, taken by surprise. Rex doesn’t even reply to that; he just takes Cody’s hands and drags him to his quarters.

 As soon as they get inside, there’s no more need to talk; they both know what they want.

Rex can’t help but to exhale, a smile on his face, as Cody begins to take off his armor, remembering then that things would move much faster if he helps out.

Once they’re down to their blacks, they fall on Rex’s bed, body and limbs entangled, kissing like their life depends on it.

 It goes too fast and too slow at the same time.

 Only when Cody finally settles between his legs, admiring his naked boy, and pushes his cock inside Rex, he feels like they’re finally getting somewhere.

“Faster! Cody… Faster!” Rex begs him. It’s still too little, it’s still not enough…

“Udesii, Rex,” Cody mutters, actually slowing his movements. He caresses Rex’s hair, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You need to calm down.”

No, that’s not what he needs. He needs to get fucked, he needs to forget.

“Rex!”

He hadn’t even realized he’s begun crying, not until he feels Cody drying his tears with a gentleness that, frankly, he doesn’t deserve.

 The tears that he is unable to stop become full sobs, and soon Rex finds himself shaking in Cody’s arms.

He feels bad about breaking down while they were having sex, but on the other hand he’s glad Cody’s being so gentle with him.

“It’s ok, Rex, let it all out,” he encourages him, and Rex lets it go.

Only when he feels something wet falling on his check he opens his eyes; Cody’s crying too. He guesses they both need this.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like this, in the safety of each other’s arms, but eventually the tight pressure they feel begin to vanish. Eventually it becomes easier to breathe.

 “Cody, I’m so sorry for--” Rex begins, but Cody immediately reassures him.

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

They kiss, gentle pecks on the lips, then Cody pulls away, expression more malicious now.

“Should we get back to it or would you rather stop?” he asks. Rex knows immediately how to answer.

“No, let’s carry on, please.”

Cody smiles at him as he pushes inside again, making Rex arch his back against the sheets. Yes, he needs this.

 He takes it slow, and this time Rex doesn’t stop him. After having cried his heart out, slow is more than good.

Cody might be going slow, but this doesn’t mean that he’s not pushing deep; Rex feels it with such an intensity that it’s almost overwhelming.

Words are pushing to come out of his lips, only to be eaten by Cody’s lips, who presses for a voracious kiss. No, neither of them will talk anymore.

Rex holds him close, clinging onto him with all the strength he has, and Cody lets him, allows himself to be his rock for the time being. He feels shaken too, but Rex needs him and he won’t falter, not now; later, when Rex will be in condition to pick up the pieces and make him whole again he will crumble, but for now he holds strong.

He takes Rex’s hands, letting the rest at the sides of his head, and squeezes them. He’s immediately relieved that Rex squeezes back.

His lips meet his in a passionate kiss, and Cody pushes, pushes and pushes.

 They’ll have to talk about this eventually, but for now Cody does his best to make Rex forget, even if just for a moment.

After all, he needs to forget too.

[meridiansdominoes]

The Dark and the Loyal

Fives and Echo are decanted out of the same vat. The Force chooses them, as it has done thousands of times before. The Jedi don’t notice... but Darth Sidious does.

I wrote a quick thing for Fives Week 2020, for day 5′s prompt “Enemies”! I’d written out several of these scenes a while ago, and I decided to dust them off and edit them up to support @painkiller80‘s celebration! I’m not completely happy with it, but it’ll do I suppose. ummm... it’s a one-shot, so I’ll post it completely here, but it’s also kind of long for tumblr, so find it on ao3 here too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564922

This is kind of dark (it’s not very graphic but be forewarned) and there’s a lot of manipulation going on. Just a heads up!

Fives goes to Coruscant and meets with the Chancellor. It’s his last chance to present his evidence about the chips to someone who can actually help. The Jedi don’t believe him. The Kaminoans are in on the whole thing and can’t be trusted. The Chancellor listens carefully, smiles at him once Fives has said his piece (he’s drugged out of his mind, but that isn’t enough to stop him), and says, very gently, “I believe you, trooper.”

And then Palpatine makes Fives disappear. 

Fives wakes up in a cell, completely alone. There are no windows, and the meals that get pushed into his room are erratic and barely nourishing. Time loses all meaning very quickly. He moves around the room in the beginning, paces and prowls around as he waits for something, anything to happen, but as days stretch on (he thinks) Fives finds himself curled up into the far corner of his cell more often than not.

When Palpatine comes to see him it’s almost a relief, if only because he’s finally getting some form of human interaction. Clones are social, tactile, well-adjusted to a lack of privacy. Without the constant presence of his brothers, Fives feels like he’s drowning in his own thoughts. 

Palpatine is not what he seems. Fives can feel that much. It’s a sensation of wrongness so thick that it roils and clings to his insides like black sludge. Fives hadn’t noticed it before. He doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know how to explain it or say why he can feel it with such clarity. He pulls himself to his feet with a weak snarl and braces himself for whatever Palpatine is planning on throwing at him.

Palpatine smiles at him in faint amusement. He reaches out a hand and hooks his fingers into claws. A wave of that horrible wrongness expands to fill the room. Fives shudders. He takes a nervous step back. He feels power hanging in the air, nearly tangible and undoubtedly destructive. It clogs up his throat. Palpatine flexes his fingers—the smallest of movements, but suddenly there’s an awful pressure closing in on Fives’ body that rips away his will and forces him to his knees. 

He pants helplessly but doesn’t struggle once he’s down. He knows how to pick his battles, especially now that he finally understands what he’s dealing with. 

“Sith,” he forces out from between gritted teeth. He tries to ignore the cold terror in his gut at the word. Palpatine smiles, slow and knowing. 

“Very perceptive,” he says. “Do you know why you are here, clone?”

Fives sneers at him. 

“The inhibitor chips are your doing,” he growls. Force save them all. The leader of the Republic is a Sith. Fives can barely breathe. So many lies. So many pointless deaths. The man that he’s sworn his loyalty to is a traitor. When he manages a weak inhale, it feels like he’s sucking ashes into his lungs.    

Palpatine doesn’t confirm or deny the accusation. He scrutinizes Fives for a long moment. Fives tries not to squirm under his gaze, but he can’t help but feel like the Sith’s eyes are piercing him to the very core.

“Curious,” Palpatine finally says. “And utterly foolish, that the Jedi did not notice sooner. Do you know what you are?”

Fives works his jaw and hesitates. 

He’s a clone. He’s a soldier. He’s an ARC trooper. But he doesn’t think any of those answers is what Palpatine is looking for. When he doesn’t answer, Palpatine’s eyes narrow a bit.

Something in Fives’ mind snaps into place.

Suddenly there’s a roaring in his ears and fire in his veins. He cries out. Something rippling and tense and alive sweeps over him. It’s unrefined and rushing and rising and it hurts. His mind buzzes and vibrates with sensations that are completely foreign. It’s too much, a persistent and all-consuming agony. He wants to curl up into a little ball and clutch at his skull, but the best he can do with Palpatine holding him down is close his eyes and wait for it to end. 

The pain settles after a while. Fives pants through gritted teeth and blinks tears from his eyes as the sensations subside—but they don’t leave him completely. He can feel odd little waves thrumming through him still, filling him with warmth instead of fire. He doesn’t understand what that means.  

“You are an anomaly, clone. The Kaminoans did not intend for their projects to be Force-sensitive. Yet here we are.”

No. That’s... impossible. 

Fives feels like the floor has dropped out from underneath him. Suddenly so many things make sense. The strange little tugs in his gut that warn him away from danger. The way can move faster than normal when he needs to, the way how the occasional blaster bolt skims right by him when it should score a hit. The awful cloying dark that left him dizzy on Umbara, that he hadn’t known how to explain to Kix when the medic had asked him what was wrong. 

The realization is accompanied by a fresh wave of fear that claws at his chest. If a Sith is taking such interest in the fact that a simple clone is Force-sensitive, Palpatine must want something from him. 

“I won’t help you,” Fives growls. “I’d rather die!” 

Palpatine’s eyes gleam a sickly yellow. 

“Your brother said the same thing,” he croons. “But he did not last long. And you will not, either.”

Fives feels his heart clench. 

“My brother—?”

Except Palpatine doesn’t answer him. The Sith leaves Fives there, pinned on his knees by the awful pressure of the dark side, and Fives has to focus on his breathing to keep himself from panicking.

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

Palpatine brings him brothers and tells Fives to kill them. Fives could. He knows how. He hasn’t always had the good fortune to only be fighting against droids. 

Of course he refuses. He won’t kill his brothers. The ones that Palpatine brings in are all Coruscant Guards, nothing but terror and horrified confusion in their eyes from the moment they step into the room. 

Palpatine makes them beg for Fives to kill them. 

Their deaths are slow, and their screams seem to echo around the room long after they’ve gone silent. Palpatine doesn’t force Fives to do anything. He allows Fives to turn away and grit his teeth and struggle to keep his resolve and do his best to block everything out. Fives doesn’t know what kind of game this is, but he won’t stoop so low as to kill a brother. 

Except.

Palpatine brings in a shiny. He’s small and afraid and probably just came to Coruscant directly from Kamino. He shakes like a leaf when Palpatine orders Fives to kill him, eyes wide as saucers. Fives just turns away as always, shoving down the urge to vomit, because he knows what’s coming. 

The shiny screams and begs and writhes and sobs and Force he’s so young. He’s so young and he doesn’t deserve this and Fives knows that Palpatine is going to drag it out for as long as the kid’s body will last. The Sith is only just getting started, and Fives—Fives can’t watch this. Not this time. It’s too much. 

Fives takes a hesitant step forward. Palpatine arches one eyebrow at him, unfazed as always. He gestures patiently towards the shiny on the ground and smiles in sick satisfaction when Fives slowly makes his way to the kid’s side. 

Nothing feels real. He knows what he’s about to do but he feels detached from it somehow, like he isn’t even in his own body. When he reaches out to place his hands on either side of the other clone’s head, he realizes that his hands are shaking. 

He’s an ARC. His hands shouldn’t shake. But they do now. 

The shiny jerks at the contact. There are tears still streaming down his face. His expression is twisted in agony. His chest heaves from the force of his sobs, and he’s still begging under his breath for the pain to stop even though Palpatine isn’t doing anything anymore.

Fives doesn’t want to kill him. He doesn’t want to, he won’t, he won’t—

“Please,” the shiny breathes out desperately. Their gazes lock.

Fives breaks.

He makes it fast. It’s the least he can do.

The body slumps lifelessly to the floor. Fives stares at it numbly and blinks back hot tears of his own. 

“Good,” Palpatine tells him, smug and pleased. 

Suddenly, Fives wants to kill him.  

Something surges beneath his skin, red-hot and boiling and angry. He rises to his feet and clenches his fists as the sensation builds and builds and builds.  

He’s afraid and he’s furious and he hates. He hates Palpatine with every fiber of his being. He grabs at the Force and it comes to him easily, like it belongs in his grasp. It whispers to him, feeds off of his fury, grows and ignites into something that Fives can use.

He spins and throws the power at Palpatine with all the force he can muster. To his own inexperienced mind it feels like a tsunami of anger, an impenetrable wall of energy.

To Palpatine, it’s child’s play. The Sith bats Fives’ attack aside with ease and flings out a hand. Fives goes hurtling across the room. He smashes into the side of his cell with a shout of pain and feels the Force immobilize his limbs once more. He gets dragged to his knees again, right in front of the dead clone. 

The anger in him heaves at the sight, struggling to escape. Palpatine laughs. He clamps down on the energy in Fives’ body and rips it from Fives’ grasp. Fives has only just adjusted to the sensation of the Force flowing through him, and to have it torn away from him so abruptly feels like losing a limb. He slumps. His vision flickers.  

“Very good,” the Sith praises. “Your anger will become your greatest strength.”

And he leaves again, keeps Fives pinned even though he’s long gone. Fives stares at the body in front of him and drowns in guilt and fear and regret.

The power that had surged through him had been dark. Fives doesn’t want that. He’s learned enough about Jedi to know that the Dark Side is evil, that it twists and contorts and confuses. He closes his eyes and vows that he won’t do it again.

Except.

Palpatine brings him another shiny. There are intricate tattoos curling around the kid’s jaw that seem brand new. Fives tries not to wonder what his name is, if his batchmates will miss him, what he likes to do during leave. He knows what the Sith is going to asks. He braces himself, steps forwards, and gets dragged to his knees again with little more than a twitch of Palpatine’s finger. He snarls with frustration—he’s doing what Palpatine wants, if only to spare his brothers from suffering, so why is he being restricted? 

“Kill him,” Palpatine orders, and Fives fights, strains against the Force that holds him in place, but he can’t move. 

The shiny starts to scream. The tattoos across his face jump as he does.

And Fives can’t do anything, can’t help, can’t end it, can’t even turn his head away.

The anger builds up again until he can’t contain it. It bursts out of him like a geyser, hot and sharp. He’d vowed not to use it again, but he has to. Suddenly he can grab the Force again. He gathers it around himself until he has just enough strength to fling out a hand and reach. 

It’s instinctual and desperate. There is no finesse, no control. Fives knows that it wouldn’t do any good to attack Palpatine again, but he can use the Force to put the poor shiny out of his misery. The Force swells around him, dark and angry and skittering around his skin as a life is snuffed out. Fives shudders. He drops to the floor. Palpatine allows the motion

“This is progress,” the Sith says in a low voice as he withdraws from the cell. 

He leaves Fives with the body again. He always does, until the cleaning droids come to take them away. Fives is too tired to lift his head and breathe his apology to the corpse like he usually does.

Progress to a Sith is not a good thing. Fives can feel himself fraying, can feel the warmth of the Force inside him beginning to curdle into something dark and cold. He tries to push it away and succeeds for the moment, but he already knows that he’s fighting a losing battle. 

He curls himself into a ball and resigns himself to wait for Palpatine’s next visit. 

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

There comes a point where Fives can’t keep track of anything anymore—of how many brothers he’s killed, of how many times he’s forced to his knees in front of the Sith, of how many times he willingly kneels just so that the pain will stop. 

He begs sometimes, but Palpatine doesn’t listen. If Fives strikes out at him, he’s easily subdued and punished. It never works, no matter how fast Fives is, no matter if he reaches for his anger. He can’t compete with a true Sith. 

Palpatine never explains the Force, never gives him a long lecture about how it functions like Fives had heard General Skywalker and General Kenobi give to Commander Tano during various points of the war. Instead, he throws Fives into problems headfirst and waits for Fives to figure it out himself. 

Palpatine lets a Gamorrean into his cell. The Gamorrean is starving and half-mad. It takes great pleasure in throwing Fives across the room until Fives has at least three broken ribs and a large gash in his side that drips blood on the floor. 

He’s going to die if he doesn’t do something. The dark nags at him, reminds him that it could help. Fives hesitates, but… he’s going to die. 

 He reaches for the darkness. He doesn’t see any other options. The Force coils around him, fierce and ready, filling him with the strength to get to his feet. 

After a long, steady stream of torture and humiliation and frustration, Fives takes vindictive glee in slamming the Gamorrean into the wall with the Force. Suddenly he has the power to end his own pain for the first time in… he doesn’t even know how long. Somehow, it’s intoxicating. Fives kills the Gamorrean ruthlessly, and mercy doesn’t even cross his mind once. 

When the power drains itself from his body and his mind is finally cleared of the foggy darkness, he realizes what he’s done and vomits up every last bit of the meager meal he’d been given earlier. 

He knows that it isn't right. He knows that, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how else to survive. He rejects the dark and shoves it away the instant his stomach stops trying to kill him. 

Palpatine comes back. This time he takes great pleasure in tearing Fives’ mind to pieces, shredding into him with sharp edges of Force that send fire rippling through Fives’ skull. Fives tries to call on the Force to defend himself, to put some sort of barrier or buffer against the mental barrage. It doesn’t work. He’s weak and inexperienced and slow. 

Palpatine pulls him apart and puts him back together over and over again until Fives finally figures out how to construct trembling shields around himself, desperate for the agony to end. Palpatine shatters them to pieces anyway before he allows Fives respite. When he leaves Fives’ mind, Fives’ entire body trembles. It feels like there are holes drilled through his brain. He can’t even wrap his hands around the tray that holds his next meal because he’s still shaking too badly. 

He’s long since abandoned any hope of rescue. He’s also submitted himself to the fact that he will never be strong enough to overcome Palpatine. Sooner or later he thinks he won’t have enough of a mind left to do anything at all. 

But Fives has always been stubborn. 

Even through the terrible pain, he clings to a shred of defiance and a sliver of loyalty. Those things have been ingrained in his heart since he could walk, and it’s just enough to keep him from succumbing for now. 

Fives can use the dark, can pull it to him and access that power, but he never lets it stay. He always forces it back down again, and that’s not what Palpatine wants. Every time it’s more and more difficult to get rid of it. The Dark Side clings to him. It doesn’t want to be subdued, and Fives is struggling against it. 

Palpatine knows this. He knows every inch of Fives’ mind by now. Fives has no secrets, no tricks, no ideas that the Sith does not know. 

So naturally Palpatine knows exactly what it takes to get Fives to break.

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

At first, Fives thinks that he’s dreaming. The door to his cell opens. Fives rolls and drops to his knees instinctively, because whatever Palpatine has planned for today will only be ten times worse if he doesn’t. 

Someone laughs at him, quiet and fond.

“You don’t need to do that for me,” they say, and Fives’ head snaps up. 

Echo meets his gaze, a small smile playing across his lips. He’s wearing a black tunic, and he looks completely unconcerned by the conditions of Fives’ cell. Fives nearly chokes. 

“E-Echo…?”

Echo approaches him. Fives shrinks back, eyes darting around the room. It’s a trick. It has to be some sort of test. Echo halts, raising his hands non-threateningly. 

“Whoa, hey. I’m not going to attack you.”

“I’m dreaming,” Fives says through chapped and bloody lips. “You’re dead.”

Echo raises an eyebrow and raises a hand, wiggling his fingers at Fives pointedly. A glove covers almost the entire limb. 

“I’m not dead, Fives,” he says. “But I do have a few fake limbs now, if that makes you feel better.”

Fives shakes his head. He isn't convinced. Echo sighs. 

“Feel me, then. You can do that by now, right? Use the Force.”

Fives closes his eyes and turns away from him. He won’t believe this. Echo has been dead for a long time. 

“Alright then,” he hears Echo mutter, and suddenly something taps at his mind, gentle yet insistent. Fives throws his shields up so fast that he sees Echo wince out of the corner of his eyes… and then Fives has to take a moment to process. He turns back to Echo, eyes wide. 

Palpatine is never gentle. 

“Gonna let me in?” Echo asks him, arching an eyebrow. Fives can barely breathe, but when the tapping comes again, Fives lets his shields drop and suddenly he feels. He knows Echo’s thoughts, recognizes the patterns and quirks that he’s understood since Kamino, and that can’t be replicated by anyone else. Their minds twine together. A connection spins into existence.

Fives feels everything. He feels a curl of light amusement from his brother, a flash of pity, a wave of relief. It feels right, it feels good. Echo slides into Fives’ mind like he belongs there. It’s the first time someone has entered Fives’ mind without accompanying pain. Fives relaxes into the sensation.

Echo is not dead. 

He’s real. He’s here. This isn’t a dream. 

Suddenly Fives feels cold terror. 

He yanks his mind away from Echo’s with a cry of alarm. 

“No, no, you can’t be here,” Fives moans. “You can’t be real, please, he’ll make me kill you, you have to leave—!”

Echo laughs again. 

“Oh, that’s right,” he says casually. “I’d nearly forgotten about that part. Don’t worry about it too much, Fives. It’s not a big deal. Besides, he won’t make you kill me. He sent me here.”

Fives recoils. Suspicion sends awful prickles down his spine, because that… that isn’t right. Echo is real, but something else isn’t. 

He reaches for Echo’s mind this time. Echo raises an eyebrow at him but lets Fives dive into his thoughts.

On the surface, Echo’s mind is bright and intelligent, just as Fives had known it would be. Behind Echo’s normal thoughts and familiar attributes, the dark side swells and ebbs like the tide of the sea. Fives narrows his eyes.

“You’re not Echo,” he says sharply. Echo frowns.

“I can reassure you that I am,” he says, coming closer. Fives draws himself up, calling the Force into his grasp and shoving outward. Echo staggers back. Then he grins. 

“That’s pretty good,” he says. “You’re learning faster than I did, I think.”

Fives stiffens. Echo starts to come closer again, and Fives can feel himself crumbling, falling, struggling to remain defiant because it’s Echo. It’s his twin, his brother, his last batchmate, and he’s right in front of him when Fives thought that he was dead. 

When Echo reaches out and pulls Fives close, all of Fives’ defenses topple. He melts into the touch, breath hitching over a sob. Echo makes a soft noise and guides them to the floor. Fives clings to his brother. He knows that something is still horribly wrong but he hasn’t gotten this type of comfort in so long. It’s selfish, but even if this is a trick Fives is still going to take what he can get. 

“Force, Echo.” His voice trembles. He’s shaking. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut, curls his fingers into the fabric of Echo’s tunic and reminds himself to breathe. “How are you alive?”

“The Separatists picked me up at the Citadel,” Echo says quietly. “I was missing three limbs and bleeding out, but I fought anyway. They were surprised to learn that I could use the Force. So was I. Then they brought me here.”

Fives presses his face into Echo’s shoulder. His voice comes out muffled by the fabric. “You’re like me, then.”

“Course I am,” Echo replies. “We came out of the same vat, didn’t we? Why would you have something that I don’t?”

Fives doesn’t have an answer to that. He lets himself drift for a while, burrowing himself in the warmth and comfort and contact that he’s been craving. He can’t remember the last time he was able to hug someone. Part of him is worried that if he lets go, Echo will disappear, and Palpatine will take his place. 

The illusion can’t last forever, because Fives can’t forget what he’s already seen. Echo is real, but he is not the same. 

“What did he do to you?” Fives asks in little more than a whisper. He’s afraid of the answer he’ll receive. Echo shrugs. 

“The same thing that he’s doing to you,” he says lightly. “So I understand, Fives. I know that it hurts. I know exactly how you feel right now.”

“If you understand that, then get me out of here,” Fives says weakly. Echo sighs.

“I know, I know,” he soothes. “I wanted to leave, too. But Fives, you need to understand. It makes everything so much better. It hurts now, but when he’s finished you’ll be better. Stronger. You’ll be free. I promise.”

Echo strokes a gentle hand down Fives’ back. Fives’ stomach heaves. His skin crawls, but he can’t bring himself to pull away.

“He broke you,” he whispers in horror. Echo finally shifts, separating them just enough that Echo can look Fives in the eyes without letting go of him completely. 

“No. He fixed me, Fives. Just be patient. You’ll understand soon.” His eyes gleam yellow in the dark. 

Fives needs to let go. He needs to let go, it isn’t right, if he listens to Echo he’ll break and it’ll be the end. He needs to let go. He needs to pull away from this twisted shadow of his brother and continue to fight. 

But he can’t. 

It’s Echo. 

He curls himself further into Echo’s embrace and sobs. Echo holds him tight, offers him comfort, worms his way into Fives’ mind and sends him waves of warmth and reassurance. 

If Fives closes his eyes and ignores everything around him, he can almost forget that Echo isn’t himself. 

“I missed you,” Echo whispers into Fives’ ear. Fives swallows and doesn’t say anything in return. 

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

Echo is almost always present, after that. He accompanies Palpatine every time Fives gets a visit. He watches, speaks sometimes, and then stays behind when Palpatine is finished to pull Fives into his arms and hold him as Fives tries to remember who he is. 

He’d hoped that Echo’s presence would make things easier, but it makes things worse. He tells Fives to give in, promises him that things will be better, whispers that he can’t wait until they can be together again. Palpatine lets him speak. All of them know Fives’ weakness. All of them know that he’s breaking, that it’s just a matter of time before Fives loses the battle and lets the dark take him as it has his brother. 

Fives, please,” Echo pleads with him, while Fives struggles to cling to his sanity and ignores the dark inside him that’s begging to be used. “Please, the longer you fight, the longer it will hurt. I want you with me, I don’t want you to get hurt anymore. Fives…” 

Fives can’t look at him. Sweat drips down his brow like a river. His mind is combusting. He convulses on the floor, gritting his teeth so hard that part of him thinks that they might shatter. The dark swirls to life. Fives grabs it, pulls it close and feels a bit of the pain fade minutely. 

“You’re so close,” Echo tells him. “Just let it stay, Fives. It’s not just a tool. You have to make it a part of you.”

Fives snarls.

“No,” he hisses. He lets go of the dark and allows the pain to return. 

Dimly, in the back of his mind, he knows that this is the last time he’ll have the strength to rebel. Echo makes a sound of frustration and hurt.

Palpatine doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t ever now, really. Fives is sure that the Sith thinks it’s beneath him. He hadn’t spoken much when it had just been the two of them either, and now Echo does the talking. Palpatine’s presence leaves Fives without warning. The sudden freedom so unexpected that Fives gapes in bewilderment. 

He’d been expecting lightning and agony as a result of his disobedience. It doesn’t come. Palpatine’s eyes flicker over to Echo. Echo doesn’t say anything, but he nods once, and Palpatine leaves with a sweep of his robes. 

Fives hauls himself shakily to his feet, confused. 

“W-what—?” he croaks out. 

“You’re not going to like this at all,” Echo says, and for the first time, Fives hears regret in his brother’s voice. 

“What are you talking about—?”

Echo reaches out and grabs him with the Force. Echo’s never done that before. He’ll enter Fives’ mind, press some of the pain away when he’s allowed to, but he’s never used it to paralyze, or to harm like the Sith does. Fives panics, because for a brief moment he’s afraid that Echo is going to pick up right where Palpatine left off. 

Instead, Echo lifts him, brow furrowed, and pulls Fives with him out of the cell. 

Fives doesn’t know what’s going on. He tries to fight. He batters his will against Echo’s because Echo’s strength can’t compare with Palpatine’s and Fives can actually make him flinch. But Echo still has more experience than Fives does, and he keeps mostly Fives motionless as he walks them through a dim hallway and into another room. 

There’s a chair in the center of the room. Echo eases Fives into it and fastens cuffs around Fives’ arms and legs. Fives pants in apprehension. This doesn’t look good. He doesn’t think it could possibly hurt more than Palpatine can make it, but Echo is grim, and that makes him worry.

“You just… need a little push. That’s all,” Echo says quietly. “It’s okay. I needed it too.”

“The kriff is this?” Fives demands, jerking against the metal restraints. “Let me go!”

“You know I can’t,” Echo reminds him curtly. “This is to help you, Fives. Why is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

“If you really wanted to help me, you would have stopped this a long time ago,” Fives gasps out. Echo huffs and ignores that. 

“This device is experimental. Our Master hopes to use it in the future, to show others like us the true ways of the Force. It will let you see things as I do, I hope.”

Echo pauses for a moment. Fives feels him reaching out towards their Force bond, sending him apologies and peace and reassurance that Fives does not want. He recoils from it, pushes Echo away, and he sees Echo’s eyes go wide with shock. 

“You aren’t my brother,” Fives snarls at him. “My brother is dead.”

For a moment, Fives can see past the dark that swirls in Echo’s eyes. Something shatters. Echo tries to reach for him again, tugging at the bond forcefully. Fives flinches and cuts him off. Echo’s side of the bond lights up with confusion and panic, but Fives won’t let him in. 

A moment later, Echo’s expression hardens, and anger replaces the vulnerability. 

Echo slams his hand down onto the control panel at his side. The machine begins to whir to life. Fives glances down and sees needles drawing closer to his skin on either side of him. He swallows.

“Echo...”

“You could have avoided this, you know. You could have stopped it already. You have the power to end it. All you have to do is stop rejecting it, stop rejecting me,” Echo snarls. His eyes flash yellow again. Fives hates it when they do that. It’s a harsh reminder that his brother is gone, that Echo has been replaced by something that has his face but not his heart.

“You don’t have to be afraid. Not of the chair, not of the Dark Side, not of anything. You have me now,” Echo whispers in his ear. “Aren’t you grateful? I didn’t have anyone to get me through these things. I was all alone.” He bares his teeth in a pale imitation of a smile. “It nearly killed me. You’re lucky, Fives. Lucky that I’m here to help.” 

Electroprods blaze to life. Fives hadn’t even noticed them until now, but they’re inching close alongside the needles. Fives trembles. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. He’s so tired of pain.

“Echo, don’t. Please. Get me out of here, this isn’t you—!”

Echo’s expression twists into a distorted parody of sympathy. He strokes a hand over Fives hair in a motion that’s supposed to be soothing before taking a step back so that he’s out of range of the chair’s influence. “I’m right here. You just have to endure it, and hate. Everything will be alright after that. Trust me. I’ll be right here, don’t worry.”

Fives twists, shakes, closes his eyes and tries to shut out Echo’s words because it’s wrong, it’s twisted and horrible and he’s so, so afraid. 

“Echo, let me go. Echo, please! Please, please don’t don’t—!”

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

When he wakes up, his world is on fire. He moans before he can stop himself and that just makes it worse. It feels like there are shards of glass down his throat. He’s curled in a little ball next to someone, and he doesn’t need to see in order to know who it is. 

“Sleep, Fives,” Echo tells him. Fives is too tired, too hurt, too beaten down to even think about disobeying. He drifts off again, but when he comes to once more the pain hasn’t faded even a bit. 

Echo is speaking in the dark of the cell, breathing something out in quiet rolling syllables that Fives doesn’t understand. The words grate against Fives’ mind. They’re… familiar, somehow, but not to him. The dark in him leaps in recognition. 

“Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Wonoksh qyâsik nun.”

Echo repeats it once, twice, three times. Fives doesn’t try to speak just yet. Even lifting his head sends lightning pain skittering through his body. Echo must sense that he’s awake. He prods at Fives’ mind through the bond, and Fives is too weak to resist this time. Echo hums in satisfaction as their minds curl together. Fives pushes at him weakly, but Echo bats his protests aside. 

“You want to know what it means?” he asks quietly. “It’s what you could have, if you’d let us show you. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.” He pauses. “Do you want to be free, Fives?”

Fives rumbles out a bitter laugh that vibrates through his bones and makes him ache.

“I am free. You’re the one who isn’t.”

Echo doesn’t say anything for a long, long moment. 

“Maybe I’m not,” he finally admits. “But you’ll join us anyway. If it’s true that I’m not free, you won’t leave me to face servitude alone.”

 Servitude. Ha. 

“I’m loyal to the Republic,” Fives croaks out, but he hasn’t actually thought of the Republic in a long time. Echo laughs at him.

“Maybe you were,” he whispers. “But you’ve always been more loyal to me.” 

He’s right. Fives loves his brother far more than he will ever love the Republic.

Fives is done resisting. He’d known that he was going to give in the moment he’d seen Echo. He’s just been putting it off. He closes his eyes and lets every muscle in his body go slack. The barriers that he’s put up to keep the dark away fade. The dark swells, throbs, billows to life. Fives lets it swallow him whole. 

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

Fives understands everything now.

The dark is his friend. The dark belongs with him. It sings contentedly as it thrums between him and his brother, binding them together as they kneel at Palpatine’s feet. When the Sith gestures for them to rise, they do so as one, more in sync than they’ve ever been. Fives shares a victorious glance with Echo as Palpatine’s satisfaction rolls over them.

“You are my prototypes,” he tells them with a slow smile. “The predecessors to my future Inquisitors. Your conversions were successful, and theirs will be, too.”

The Sith presents them with lightsabers. Fives accepts the weapon and licks his lips. The dark curls around him like a blanket. It isn’t cold, not anymore. 

He’s not sure why it had taken him so long to accept it. 

His bond with Echo is alight with energy and power. Fives can practically taste it. He knows that Echo can, too. 

It is better, just like Echo had promised. And Fives doesn’t really care what happens to him anymore, not as long he can stay side by side with his brother.   

[spare-parts-101]

The biggest fool of them all

[vesperstalksclones]

Whats this? A naughty story about REX??? 😱

(18 +) - be warned!!

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sucking off a Vod. Im not blushing, you're blushing

Uses: cures boredom, loneliness, anxiety, and scratches that "itch"; helpful for all clone lovers, but especially those who are preoccupied (like me) with the idea of going down on one of our gorgeous troopers. 

Ingredients: a bit of deep throating, ample saliva, hair pulling, teasing, and lots of sweet sweet clone rod

A lil sumthin sumthin inspired by the glorious bunch of peeps that admin for and show up at clonesandmoans.

○○○○○○○○○○○

"On. Your. Knees." Fives postured, hands on his hips, trying his best to look as dignified as possible. 

Jesse burst out laughing and his friend's poor attempt to mimic their commanding officer. Amidst chuckles and heckling from the other clones, you sat chewing on your lip, trying to make sense of Fives' act.

I knew Rex as a stern commander, albeit he was thoughtful of his men. I'd never heard him speak with such a dominant and aggressive tone or issue orders in such a basic way. What was Fives on about?

"I don't get it…" 

Fives and Jesse glance up at the sound of your voice. They had become two of your best pals since coming on as a med tech three months ago. Torrent company was known for getting the job done, even if it meant getting blown up in the process. The result was a patient load in the med bay that often flooded in to the halls. The modest staff couldn't keep up, even with the support of the clone field medics. The call had come in for more hands, and yours had been chosen.

"Mph" Jesse grunted. "Umbara. A shit traitor named Krell. He did us pretty dirty; lost us a lot of brothers."

Fives chimed in "Rex took it pretty hard. He felt responsible as our CO. It was his decision to execute Krell. He said that; commanded him 'On Your Knees'. Now when he's pissed that's our tag line…." Fives ducked his head, glaring up from under his brows and growled out the words low in his throat. 

I swallowed hard. I couldn't deny that I had a thing for these men. They were fit and firm and strong. I had handled so many of these gorgeous tanned bodies since I'd reported to Torrent and It was a guilty hidden pleasure of mine. I was glad to save their lives and stitch up their wounds and soothe their fevers. The fact that they were built like every maiden's fantasy under that armour was a surprising and welcome bonus. 

And then there was the Captain. He always presented with an air of quiet dignity. Even when he professed worry for his injured troops, he always always remaind poised. Many of the other soldiers jumped at the chance to flirt with a young available female. Especially one who's job included removing their clothing and occasionally (if they were lucky) touching their twig and berries if necessary. Some, like Fives, were shameless in their chatter. He'd offered to service me several times. Honestly it didn't bother me, he was so sweet and silly and friendly about it, like an overly large puppy. That's how we became friends, as messed up as it seemed. He had offered to paint my molars. I politely declined and checked around his balls for herniations. Instant besties. 

 Rex had never had to present to me before. Apparently he preferred to report to his medic, Kix, for treatment. No, I had only ever traded injury reports and small talk with the commander. He was always perfectly poised. Focused. Buttoned up.

I wanted to unbutton him.

In the most depraved ways I could imagine. I wanted that decent, respectful man to use me like his play thing and leave my sticky, sweaty, and shaking.

Again… a dry swallow at the thought.

Fives cocked an eyebrow at me. 

"Hey uhh… Jess! Look at this shit!"

Jesse swung around, joining us. "Whats that Vod?"

Fives lowered himself to my eye level. He repeated the low growl, and had the heat rising in my cheeks. 

"You fekking like that don't you ad'ika??" Jesse snickered and ruffled my hair. 

Fives stroked his goatee. "Got a thing for the good Captain, do you Nurse? Well…"

"Kriffing… ugh! Fives stop!" I covered my face not sure if I was embarrassed or relieved that my friends had found me out.

I pushed him out of the way and scrambled up from the lounge chair. "I have to run! My rotation starts in 15! Jesse, Fives, … keep your mouths shut… or I'll order cavity searches on both of you!"

"Don't threaten us with a good time!"

                             ○○○○○○○○○○○○○

A few days had passed and I had all but forgotten the exchange with the boys. I was preforming an inventory in a satellite med station, counting off bandages, checking the use by dates on IV bags… important profoundly boring work. Footsteps echoed in the adjoining exam room, big and heavy. Looking to the door… there stood the captain… clad in his boots and blacks, arms crossed as he studied me.

I straightened and tidied myself. 

"Yes Captain?"

"It's come to my attention…" he thought for a moment, " some of my men think I make you uncomfortable."

Uh….

"I beg pardon? Not at all sir!" I crossed the room, intent on showing him that his presence was not unwelcome. "Whatever gave them that notion?"

"Apparently a discussion of my behavior in the field caused you visible discomfort…"

Fucking Fives. And. Jesse. They would die for this.

"No sir…" I thought back to Fives impression and couldn't help but flush from the thought. The real thing was standing an arms length away from me. And we were very alone. 

I stared into his amber eyes, the square stern set of his face. I imagined his full lips forming the words. Commanding me.To my knees.

The heat crept up my neck and into my cheeks. I couldn't look any longer without embarrassing myself.

"It seems to me ad'ika, that you are not being very truthful." His lilting accent filled my ears and I wished for… rougher.. words to be graced by it.

His thumb and fingers gripped my jaw, his palm pressed against my neck. He lifted my face and leaned close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin.

"It seems.." he continued, his rich velvety baritone came softly "...that you might appreciate it if I were to speak to you in a way that many would consider.…indecent."

I took a shuddering breath, my mouth falling open. With just that simple incantation my body caved entirely to his spell, and I felt tingling heat spread through my belly. 

What was happening??? Was this reality? Was Mr Duties and regulations coming on to me???

"What if I would? What would you do about that?" I whispered, testing the terrain.

"I'd certainly oblige." He replied, running his thumb across my bottom lip, "Anything to make you feel more at home."

"Just doing my job sir."

I was physically shaking with the need to grab hold of him."

"Anything to keep you in peak condition".

Oh God, that was terrible. I didn't dare speak anymore, afraid at how quickly my capacity for structured thought was deteriorating. 

I lept at him, pressing hungry lips to his, getting a tight grip at his shoulders.

Rex palmed my ass and lifted me easily, sitting my down roughly on the exam table all the while fighting for my tongue. He positively devoured me, pulling my chest tight against his, bending me backwards to accommodate his height.

"How do you like to be touched?" He gasped between kisses thrusting a hand under my shirt and spreading it across my navel.

"I'll like anything you do to me. Just use me Rex." It came out like an order more than a request. 

His lips quirked into a sly grin. He pulled my shirt over my head and quickly hooked my sports bra with his thumbs, dragging it up my arms. I expected it to be flung away as well, but at my elbows he made a deft twist of his wrist, and the garment tightened like a snare. One big hand pulled my arms backward, arching my torso so that my breasts stood up like lonely mountains before my chin. His opposite hand pressed to my rib cage, and crept around smoothly examining my flesh. He traced the bottoms of my breasts, then slowly closed over one as he watched my face. My jaw had dropped lower with each inch over movement and when his calloused thumb and forefinger teased my nipple to a harder pebble I loosed a groan. It was wanton and desperate and I knew he liked it because his smile showed his perfect teeth, right before they descended to the other breast. 

I couldn't help it but my eyes rolled back in my head. The feeling of his lips nibbling my bud, his teeth pinching, and his rough tongue teasing, combined with the opposite hand massaging was enough to put me out of my mind entirely. 

I uttered a deep moan as the heat of my lust spread through my veins. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my thighs shook a little with anticipation. 

"Do you like being at my mercy?" He whispered against my soft skin, the hand at my elbows tightened my "bonds" with a small adjustment of his finger. "I could do whatever I want to you… and you'd have to just watch."

 My eyes widened and I could feel my pupils dilate. I was eager to watch. 

His hand slid down my hip, then thrust underneath me and gripped the waist of my breeches. He hauled them down my thighs, then ducked and hooked my knees over his shoulder. 

"What if you aren't ready for me?" He whispered, his voice rough and gritty with arousal. He slid his free hand along the backs of my bare legs to where they met, tracing a finger along the fold of my sex.

I swallowed dryly, silently begging him to find out for himself. 

He slipped two large fingers within me, exploring the spaces near my opening, then upward to gently stroke at my clit. The action pushed a desperate whimper past my lips, and I tilted backwards, reveling in his touch. 

"No ma'am!" He chided, slapping me gently on the base of my rump. "You damn well better be paying attention, I don't appreciate being ignored."

He scowled, stepping away from my legs and hauling me roughly to my feet. 

"Generally, when I catch a trooper drifting off I have to make an example."

I trembled at the thought of his "punishment". 

He jerked at the twisted cloth that still held my arms, the other hand plastering me against him, his member pushing hard against my navel. 

"Drop."

I stared at him defiantly. His eyes glared down into mine. Danger and raw power pooling in their depths

"On. Your. Knees." 

I was defeated with little resistance. The command dripped with his dominance, and my weakness to it made itself known by conveniently running down my thigh.

"Yes sir," I rasped quietly. My mouth suddenly not dry anymore. He fucking new what I wanted. 

He loosened his grip on my arms, allowing the garment to slide free as I lowered myself before him. I clasped his thick thighs and guided him to turn and lean against the exam table. I pulled up the top of his black body glove, tracing my tongue over his abs. 

"Take it off," i whispered, "I want to look at you."

 The captain obeyed, rolling his bare shoulders and flexing his physique for my benefit and the view was splendid! My hand roamed with my eyes, up his rippling torso as high as I could reach and back down again, tracing the bronzed curves and inspecting a few ragged scars. He was a man built to be physical, compact muscle and sinew, wrapped in bronzed silk. My hands found the arch of his hips and hooked the waistband of his skin tight pants. Pulling them down slowly my eyes greedily devoured the V-shaped muscles that pointed the way to my "punishment". He was already sporting a raging erection, and I was forced to unhook him from the elastic before I could peel it away further down his thighs.

 His member arched upward before his belly, and without having touched him yet, I was already pretty confident that one of my hands couldn't close around him fully. By nature he was much darker than the rest of his skin, and his darker scrotum was drawn tightly, ready for work. 

He tapped me on the forehead with the spongy head. "Hey!" I giggled, pushing him away. 

"You're getting distracted down there! Get to it."

I cocked my head to the side, quirking an eyebrow up at him, keeping my eyes on his as I ran my tongue along his shaft, teasing at the vein underneath. He kept his face flat and stern, lips still pulled down in a scowl. 

Still watching, I repeated the long lick, but this time closed my lips over his head, tracing circles within my mouth. He twitched,  rolling his neck a bit, fighting to remain the dignified officer. 

I allowed my saliva to gather in my mouth, promising him mentally that I was going to put that military rank right in its grave. Perhaps he didn't know that caf was only my second favorite thing to put in my mouth. His punishment was my forte.

My lips crept slowly down his shaft, my tongue spreading saliva the entire way, preparing him for my attentions. I stopped about half way, and repeated the motion a few times. Sucking lightly with each retreat. He fidgeted with his jaw a few times. My hands circled his hips and gripped his hard ass, pulling his pelvis forward, while he remained leaning against the table. Watching intently, I descended along his cock again, my eyes holding his as innocently as I could manage. His own widened the deeper I took him, his lips finally dropping open with a gasp as he slid in to my throat and my lips pressed to his bronze skin. I swallowed against him, my tongue flitting about and drew away, savoring the deep groan that I was pulling out of him.

Gotcha captain.

I quickened my pace, not taking him as deeply, but sucking with force each time, my fingers clamped around his hips, arched into claws. Holding him prisoner. 

I would break away periodically, running my lips along the sides of his shaft, allowing his arousal to calm a little - no sense in hurrying him along. I wanted to savor this beautiful man.

His hand groped for my head, gently fisting my hair, the other finding my upper arm, kneeding and stroking as he drown in my touch. 

"Ah.. ah...ah'd...ddd..ikka".. he stuttered through his passion, when I took him again in my mouth. "Can you go harder??... GAH!"

He threw himself back as I scrubbed over his head with my tongue, toying with the small opening there. "I love your touch, Dala, its so good! I want to move but I'm afraid I'll hurt you!"

I surged forward down his cock, tearing another moan from his throat. Pulling away with a wet slurp, I met his gaze.

 "Well, do it then, sir. Aren't you the one punishing me?" I asked, stroking him firmly in my fist. 

He grinned, combing back a few escaped locks of my hair and closing his fingers through them firmly. Sliding my closed hand to the base of his member, I chased it with my mouth, tensing my neck and shoulders, the other hand traveling along his thigh to stroke between his legs, caressing the tightened globes there.

I repeated the motion again and again, varying in force and intensity, as the Captain's breath grew more ragged. Pushing him well past his limits, he began thrusting back in to my face, struggling to temper himself and not knock me senseless. The fist holding my hair would occassionally forget itself, hauling me away or forcing me forward when the pleasure got the better of him. I moved with him, savoring the taste of his skin, the salty warmth of the pre-cum that I was pulling out of him, the thrill of pleasuring this man with my mouth and hands. I had been hungry for him. Positively ravenous. And devour him I did. 

His moans were becoming louder and more frequent, with gasped praises and prayers flung from his lips at odd intervals. 

I sucked harder and moved faster, fighting my way towards his release. 

"Ngh!! Ad'ika! I'm close!" He cried. I met his eyes. "I want to… aagh!" he shuddered, loosing his train of thought momentarily. "I want to cum on your face!!!"

I couldn't very well nod, but unstead answered by putting my best effort in to the grand finale, tongue and mouth and hand working in unison to push him over the edge. 

His lashes fluttered shut, his head dropping backwards, Rex thrust against my mouth, a noise building in his chest. He repeated the motion with me. Again. On the fourth roll of his hips a shout tore from his throat, and I felt his hot seed pour over my tongue. I pulled away, allowing thick ropes of his cum to land on my cheeks and lips, down my neck and chest. 

I stroked his hips and thighs as he leaned back on his elbows, his climax rolling through him still. Sitting back on my heels, I simply enjoyed the sight, watching him in the afterglow of his release. He was still trembling, with the occasional violent shudder, breathing raggedly, his shaking hands kneeding at my wrists.

Eventually he lifted his head, fixing me with a bright eyed grin that made my insides positively twist. 

"Damn woman, that was intense!" He gasped, pulling me to my feet. He admired his handiwork on my chest. Then, with an impish grin, he signed off near my collar bone with his index finger, satisfied I had been properly chastized. 

"You ass!" I squealed dodging away. 

Laughing, he grabbed me and pulled me over to the sink. We quickly cleaned up together, and he pulled my breeches away along with socks and clogs. Snaking an arm around my waist, he dipped the other hand between my thighs, which was in quite a state: stimulation to my mouth tended to make me a hot mess. 

"Stars! Where is all of this coming from?" He nibbled at my lips, tasting himself in the process. 

"I guess its my punishment for not paying attention", I cooed saucily. "I suppose I'll have to tend to that elsewhere."

"Perish the thought, Sugar." He fisted himself, working his member as he kissed me again. "Give me a moment and I'll be in top form…" his voice dropped into the low growl that rattled my insides, " then we can continue with your…. Reprimand .."

He scooped me up, and dropped me unceremoniously back on to the table, pushing his already firm cock against my opening. 

"Your recovery time Rex, my God!" I gaped in wonder. He guided his member to my opening and sunk into me slowly, smiling at my low groan. 

"I've told your superior I need you to help me purge old injury reports. Should take the entire rest of the day..." He exhaled slowly, enjoying the delicious friction where we were joined. "... and I've a laundry list of poor behavior that needs to be "disciplined" out of you"

[vodika-vibes]

Arachne is heavily debating about Anakin and that must be so hard for her to choose—wonder how Dogma learned about Umbara . . . Also love how the Arachne AU just got another AU possibility within the AU 😂

Arachne's brain is going, "Anakin is a threat. He's a threat to the men in his care. He's a threat to the child he's legally responsible for. He's a threat to the galaxy. I know this. I know this, and I'm doing nothing about it. Can I punish him for something he hasn't done yet? Can I punish him for the slaughter of the Tusken Raiders? Does anyone care about that slaughter?"

Arachne has notes of things that happened, canonically. And she has it all written in a silly pink notebook, and she left it open one day, and Dogma didn't mean to pry, he didn't, but he saw his name and he saw Tup's name, and he read a whole page, before he slammed the book shut, and went to Arachne to ask/demand answers. Honestly, it was only a matter of time. I can't help myself, lol.

"You don't like General Skywalker, do you?" Tup asks as he watches Arachne preform a series of gymnastics that made his everything hurt. She balances on one hand, "I am perfectly ambivalent towards your General." "You avoid him when he's nearby and you have the option, and when you don't..." Dogma pauses, "Well, if you talked to the supervillains you fought in your own reality the way you talk to him, I'm not surprised they wanted to kill you." You stick your tongue out at Dogma in a very mature rebuttal. Dogma, who's halfway though a spar with a training droid, arches a brow, "Keep it up and I'll give your tongue something to do." "Ew!" Tup flings a towel at his brother, "Stop being gross." And then he looks at Arachne, who's now balancing on a single finger, "What's your deal with Skywalker? Sure, he's a dick, but he's better than some of the Jedi." Arachne scowls at him, "I have good reasons." "Hm...Umbara like reasons?" Tup asks, "Or reasons like the time you drugged Fives and Echo to keep them from being able to go on a mission." Arachne flushes, "You can't prove that that happened." She says, "but if Echo had gone on that mission, he would have been blown up." "Babe," Dogma finishes his training and walks over, "Come on, it's us." "If I tell you, you'll never see Skywalker the same. Ever. So, for now, I will keep my council." Arachne replies, before she flips to her feet, and then leans against Dogma. Dogma grins at her, his hands settling low on her hips, "Tup, go away." "You both suck," Tup grumbles, "I'm going to use your shower, Arachne. And your shampoo. And conditioner. And bodywash." He calls as he stalks out of Arachne's gym.

[kyber-heart]

6.3 Secrets of The Enclave

Just got done with the new flashpoint and I have some Opinions[tm]

Cut for spoilers so be warned...

Overall I enjoyed the story. However I came out of it feeling wanting. I had hoped for something meatier from this story but unfortunately it just felt like a flashpoint to nudge the progression a millimetre further. We knew that Malgus was going to do this for ages now and I had hoped that more could have been done to set up the story going forward. Still, for what it was, it was an enjoyable hour or so that I spent in the story mode. 

The characters were decent. While Malgus felt like a threat across the flashpoint, I had hoped we could get to battle him at least a bit. I think his over arching sense of fear would have been better preserved if the teaser SWTOR’s twitter shared didn’t have the line “I have broken my chains” which basically said ‘yeah he succeeds it makes no difference.’ so because that is technically spoiled, I had hoped for a fight at least.

Commander Golah was a fun villain in place of Malgus. Personally, I got some Indiana Jones villain vibes from him. It would have cool to have that amped up a bit further. But as a boss he was fun for what little we saw of him. Given that there is the option to kill or spare him, I figure he isn’t coming back. SWTOR has got to take away the kill option for a while. It’s too much. Let us have some characters that exist for a while.

I felt that Aryn was good if a touch one note. She felt very similarly like she did in the Deceived novel, which is understandable but I had hoped that she would be a little matured given how long it’s been. She felt a touch too brash at times. I did however find the varying levels of trust the other Jedi had of her to be interesting. Arn sticking up for her was fantastic. You go, bud.

Speaking of Arn, there’s honestly not much to say. It was great to see him again. Yet I felt he came across as an exposition character for the most part until the end moments where he spoke up against the Nautolan Jedi (who’s name I regret not taking note of...) I also see they still haven’t fixed his companion model to have the correct lightsaber and he still has the Derelict Lightsaber model instead of his own.

I will say some of the exposition delivered by Arn was interesting. I specifically noted how he chimed in with his “Not anymore” addition after Aryn said “Jedi don’t wipe your memories if you decide to leave”. I have to admit I don’t remember this being a thing in other pieces of SW media pre-SWTOR, but if true. Damn. That’s dark. I also thought it was funny that they explained his presence and why he knew this by saying ‘Oh yeah he studied the ruins’ but it doesn’t really do anything interesting except explain why he can deliver exposition. 

The ruins of The Enclave themselves... oh boy... I have such mixed emotions on this. The ruins themselves were modeled perfectly to how I remember KOTOR 1 and 2. I had a moment upon leaving the sub-level via the elevator, picking up the explosives around the open area and setting foot into the corridor. It was only upon seeing that corridor did I realize exactly where I was standing and that the open area I had just been in had been the landing pad where the Ebon Hawk sits in KOTOR 1. I had to stop for moment and just go back look around and notice all the details like the walls and doors and how it felt so familiar to how it looked back in 2004 when I first played it. 

Nostalgia then became corrupted by the frustration I already went into this update feeling. Frustration that SWTOR was again keeping an aspect of the game instanced that I strongly feel should have been open for exploration. Like if they want to have a flashpoint in the enclave, fine, but why can’t there be more of Dantooine to explore? To get to go and explore those ruins at our leisure. The area is so well crafted and faithfully remodeled that it really feels like such a shame to place it where it is. It’s the same problem as Copero, Umbara, and Reborn Nathema in my opinion. I can’t see why this game update couldn’t have been bundled with the pirate incursion quests and released as planet like Ossus. Anyway that’s my complaint about that. However, Master Sal-Deron suggests placing forces at other Jedi sites... if we get Rhen Var or another world as a flashpoint only planet, I will personally fly to Texas and slap the design team. 

I would also like to mention, the introduction of Master Sal-Deron and the Nautolan Jedi Archivist is very appreciated and I hope we see more of them. I don’t remember it being explicitly stated that they are Jedi Council members but I like to think that they might be. If so, I’m glad the Jedi Order is starting to see some regrowth like this. I also like having Sal-Deron’s name in my pocket now so I can use that character for some of my OC’s backstories to either introduce them or reintroduce them to The Jedi Order.  

So in summary; Secrets of The Enclave, an entertaining hour of voiced dialogue with honestly minimal story and frustratingly well designed nostalgia... in short...

Meh...

[stairset]

I feel like since it’s been so long since we had new Clone Wars, people have forgotten how the show’s arc structure, like, works. And a part of that might just be because when you watch it on DVD or Netflix or Disney+, you’re able to watch an entire arc all at once, so people have forgotten what it’s like to wait a week for each new part. So they expect all the exciting stuff to happen all at once, but that’s just not how story arcs WORK, that’s why they’re called story ARCS, because it’s an ARCHING plot that spans several episodes. You can’t complain about the first parts of an arc acting as setup when that’s how the show has ALWAYS done things. Darkness On Umbara and The General were setup for Plan of Dissent and Carnage of Krell, Eminence was setup for Shades of Reason and The Lawless, Sabotage was setup for The Jedi Who Knew Too Much, To Catch A Jedi, and The Wrong Jedi, etc. etc. Those are some of the show’s best and most iconic arcs. Sometimes, taking your time to properly build up to the big stuff instead of just rushing into it...is better.