#tiny Garel

[pannypunkpanda]

All the Witch Brühlies taking a group picture—! …Dirk no. — November 1

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Blood Sisters"

Enemies To Friends Speedrun: The Episode.

Fond of that detailing on the overhang there, look at it.

I think Sabine already knew the mission was meant for her, she seems a little bit flustered and agitated that Ezra's trying to insert himself into it.

And of course doesn't pass up an opportunity to give him a playful elbow jab.

Hera gives the two the mission, telling Ezra that Sabine's in charge, which he's perfectly okay with. Continuing with the previous episode it's obvious Ezra has sorted out his growing pains teenage angst and has returned to normal.

Normal being "adorable eager puppy", especially around Sabine lol.

I do wonder... from how she acts in the beginning here and some of the later dialogue it sounds kind of like Sabine is going through a bit of a midteen crisis too. Could be either triggered like Ezra's by the events of "Always Two There Are" or could just be her having One Of Those Moods.

Ezra's rambling suggests it's more the latter, that Sabine just sometimes gets All Up In Her Feelings and starts self-isolating and wanting space and pushing people away.

I do like the implication that Ezra's sought her out when she's gotten in these Moods to see if she's okay (and had to be told to go away because Sabine's in, "I don't have any problems, leave me alone." denial lol).

Him checking up on her in concern when he can sense she's out of sorts is a cute thought. :)

Sabine spies some of Ketsu's graffiti but doesn't bring it up and the two proceed to the mission, or as I like to call it, an exercise in secondhand embarrassment.

Someone help these poor children.

Still cannot get over how tiny Ezra was in the early seasons.

Kestu makes her appearance with a flurry of exotic-sounding percussion in the score. This new theme (linked because it's hard to hear under the dialogue) is full of drums and clappers and synth strings and a wild flute and sounds appropriately tense and dangerous for Ketsu.

Ezra nervous little glances between the girls aww.

A little bit of classic Western Gunfight with the shot choices here.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: Ketsu's reflection in Sabine's visor. (Reflections be a bitch to animate.)

Ezra's resigned look when the Stormtroopers stumble across them lololol.

Okay I GUESS the friendly way Ketsu and Sabine can banter in the middle of a firefight and how they wound up shooting from behind the same stack of crates with no issue despite being at odds literal moments ago was supposed to be a sign that they're still friends deep down but--*grumbles, mutters something about rushed writing*

"Bet you're glad you brought backup!" "Yeah, it's working out great! Exactly as planned!"

Ah nice to know the two don't change when it comes to stealing Imperial ships together. :)

She told you to hang on, Ezra.

I do have to laugh at this one poor trooper's veeeeeeeery close call ha ha.

Ketsu's flutes trill out again for this little chase. Which is decently staged, the blown airlock sequence does feel nicely harrowing.

Sabine looks very pretty this episode.

Chopper being a menace, per usual, lol.

Right so whose idea was it to have Chopper cover his eyes because that was a pretty good idea, definitely makes us believe he's scared.

Sabine calling Chopper her friend, aww.

Surprise! She's actually hella cute in a fierce way. I do dig that she has legitimately violet eyes, just a nice little touch reminding us we're not quite in our galaxy.

Sabine's speech here recalls some of Ezra's, about how she used to be out for herself.

"I forgive you." Ssssshhfjhhhhh okay. Okay Sabine. Sure. Seems a bit quick and this is definitely at odds and doesn't quite fit with what we know about her tragic backstory later but... sure. Whatever. We'll just... go with it.

Probably a good thing they established two episodes ago that there's an Imperial checkpoint out here in general Garel airspace, at least this interruption doesn't come completely out of nowhere.

Aaaaaaaand just like that they are suddenly friends again. Okay.

Well now that they've completely dropped all animosity they hash out a predictably explosive plan. One they kind of overexplain a bit.

"Contain the problem immediately!" Oh right, like it's their fault their reactor core's going to explode.

I mean it is their fault in this case but still.

This poor droid pilot though. He was just doing his job, man.

There is an awful lot of Telling instead of Showing this episode, it's kind of irritating me.

Dunno where this is but it's pretty.

Lol Artoo and Chopper's grumpy acknowledgement of each other.

I really can't praise the environments on this show enough.

"Last time I saw these two, they were gonna shoot each other." "If I recall correctly when we first met you, you were stealing from us." Yeah that's not even remotely the same thing, Hera.

Ezra still immediately attempting to befriend Sabine's friend, who's like, "Oh yeah Sabine told me aaaaall about you."

Help me he's so cute. <3

*grumbles in frustration at this conversation* Nothing about this is merited, there is no character throughline here hkfjhdkjhnn.

A very soft and gentle variation of Ketsu's theme here to close us out.

I... don't really rewatch this episode a lot, as you can probably tell. I always thought Sabine just blindly and unconditionally forgiving Ketsu didn't make sense. Not necessarily on her end, because Sabine obviously thinks meeting her new family in the Spectres is the best thing that could have happened to her and she's had a Jedi around probably teaching her a few things about letting go of grudges, but I never understood why it would make Ketsu turn and just... drop her apparently lucrative and desirable bounty hunter career. And it just seems even more weird with what we learn about Sabine's backstory later, that she'd already had her trust broken deeply by her family and then again some time down the line by her supposed best friend who escaped the Academy with her.

Ketsu really doesn't get enough actual characterization for her turn to be believable either.

Beyond those issues the episode is just... kind of dull? Sabine and Ketsu's interactions aren't really that engaging for me so as soon as we leave Garel my brain kind of checks out.

We do get a little bit of backstory stuff that informs and adds layers to Sabine and some other cute bits here and there. But it's not exactly one of my favorites.

Back to form next episode, though, for character arc completions and some "Zero Hour" relevant foreshadowing.

[di-kut]

Baar Bal Runi Chapter Ten

Series Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive!Reader

Words: 4.1K

Summary: (Body Swap AU) You leave Garel spend a month in hyperspace. When you arrive on Oseon you have run out of fuel, food and money and Din must finally go out again to work.

Rating: T

A/N: Did anyone think the tensions were going down? Lol. They were not. This is sort of a strange in the middle chapter but you know what? It has lots a quality bonding and we love that. 

The next morning you wake, and Din asks you to braid his hair again. So you do, you sit on the edge of your bed and he moves easily to settle himself between your knees so that you can reach him. You talk him through the motions again and pass him the ends of the braid to practice as you had before. He still fumbles with the unfamiliar movements, but you recognise the determination in the hard set of his mouth and shoulders when he tells you he won’t need your help soon. That he will be able to braid it himself. You believe him. When you finish he asks you if you dreamt of the cave again. Neither of you had. The child is up as well, as energetic as ever and trying to throw himself from the edge of your bed into Din’s lap. Din catches him with a playful growl before he can, a growl which makes the child squeal and giggle, and Din tickles the bottoms of his feet as he squirms.

The storm makes the sky almost black instead of purple. Had rolled in through the night, filled the air with static and pops of lightening. Half the streets had gone dark and empty under the torrent of heavy rain, so intense the sheets of water blur the world beyond the window into a haze of flashes. But it is not quiet, although there is no life in the streets outside for the first time since your arrival. There is no thunder like there had been in storms on Coruscant and in its place the planets itself groans beneath the weight of the storm. Makes the air creak and groan and there is the sound like the planet is trying to break apart beneath you. The current of the storm, crackling through the air and the rain and the buildings and the ground all around you. You can’t leave your lodgings at all, but Garel has systems prepared, underground tunnels and chutes run the width and breadth of the city and there is hot food and fresh water pumped in through the main grid below your feet. The large open spaces downstairs are filled with throngs of people, humans and aliens and droids, mingling and laughing and drinking through the four days and nights that the storm lasts.

The kid is restless, won’t sleep in his crib. You wake the first night to the sound of gentle murmuring from Din’s bed and you twist to see them in the dark, curled together beneath the covers. You fall asleep again to the creaking of the earthen walls and the sounds of soft spoken Mando’a. But the storm seems to make the world move strangely, like time and reason are suspended, and the sounds of people wondering the hallways through the nights never stops, neither does the distant chatter of the sleepless crowd in the common rooms below. On the third night, when the storm is almost over, something else wakes you from sleep, not Din and the child – the child is curled to your chest that night and Din is quiet. You think you have heard knocking, but you know any sound would have woken the Mandalorian before you. But you can’t sleep again, a heavy knot of dread in your stomach, filling your throat. You push yourself carefully up away from the child and edge towards the door, strain your ears to hear anything over the storm and the chatter. Realise you can see the shadow of someone in the crack of the light showing beneath the door at your feet. You turn back for your blaster before you are brave enough to yank the door open, ready to shoot.

The hallway is empty.

When Din asks if you dreamt of the cave the next morning while you braid his hair you think you should tell him about the shadow at the door, but you don’t know what you would say. So you say nothing and think maybe you had dreamt the whole thing. The knowledge of it sits heavy in the base of your stomach.

When the storm finally ends it brings news with it – New Republic ships are chartered to stop on Garel. It is a quick task to pack your things away and load the Crest of supplies. Din leaves you to check the ship while he makes the last arrangements for your leaving, and you chart your course, first to near the planet Chiron and then to the hyperlane to Oseon. And then it will be more than a month before you reach Barab. You plot every stop you will make for fuel, to restock on food. And while you are alone and scared you pull up the coordinates for the Green Planet in the unknown regions. Further and further from you every day. You look down at the Mandalorian’s hands – your hands now – until he arrives with enough food to last you at least three weeks. He stares at you with a heavy look when he finds you motionless in the cockpit, the Green Planet still flashing on the screen before you. You shut it off, grateful when he asks you nothing, slides into the pilot’s chair and begins readying the Crest.

Din flies most of the first day and you keep him company, sit in the co-pilot’s chair and play with the kid when he doesn’t sit in his father’s lap. Listen to the words Din says to him in Mando’a and try to pick out the ones you are familiar with, often find yourself lulled instead by the soothing melody of the language. Have to look away when Din glances at you and finds you watching. Excuse yourself to try and finish an upgrade you’d started installing in the spare fuel tank, more than a month ago now. You work on it, feel better up to your elbows in grease and at home and distracted by the job, until Din appears in the hull to eat.

“Don’t,” he says when you reach to turn out the light. “It’s fine.”

You hesitate, hand hovering over the control. And then you nod slowly and join him on the crates. Lift the helmet away and feel somehow more exposed without it in the light of the Crest than you had on Garel. And Din seems to sense it as well. He offers you food, fresh still because you are still so close to Garel, with a small smile.

After you eat Din covers the small mirror in the ‘fresher of the Crest with the same dark cloth he’d covered the mirror in the hotel with and you both shower. It isn’t easy, but it doesn’t fill you with the same dread it had, and you are getting to know him well enough that you are quicker to wash now. You don’t sleep well the first night, alone in the hull. Stare up at the blinking light above you with only a small amount of resentment and know it isn’t the buzzing of silence or the light which keeps you up. Both are quieter and dimmer than your hotel room had been. You miss the gentle sounds of the child’s cooing, and his father’s breathing in the bunk across from you. Miss the comfort of being close to them. It’s cold and dark on the Crest, and you wrap yourself deep into your covers.

Once you reach the hyperlane time starts to slip quickly through the fabric of space all around you. Din leaves the ship on autopilot most of the time, so different to how stubbornly he’d stayed in his vigil after the change, sits with you in the hull of the ship while you work on the spare fuel tank. At first he is mostly quiet company, except for when he speaks softly to the child, sometimes in Mando’a, sometimes in basic. Asks if it is okay if he allows the child to play with some of your tools or spare parts. You all eat together with the lights on, and the child laughs when you pull faces at him, slaps his tiny hands down in his lap and shuffles across the floor. Sometimes comes close enough to grab onto your hand and share a feeling with you. Din watches with undisguised trepidation at first, his eyes shifting between you and the child, until you begin to narrate the feelings to him. To describe the brightness of the child’s happiness, or the greedy impatience of when he wants more food. The skipping, jumping in your chest when he wants to play. Try to explain that you don’t always know the name for the emotion being shared with you – that sometimes it is a blend, or so different from the way you feel things yourself that all you can do is guess. That you are learning to understand him just as Din would have to understand his facial expressions, or cries.

You find yourself narrating everything you feel to him, finding the words to translate the way the child feels. And Din begins to question you, to ask what makes happiness different to contentment, what he feels like when he is tired instead of hungry. You spend hours with the child in your lap, Din sitting across from you and listening intently while you grapple with the infinite complexity of turning the heart into the spoken word. Sometimes the Mandalorian will reach across and poke at the child to make him giggle or distract him from mischief.

“He loves you, you know.” You say to him, when Din is letting the child play tug-of-war with his finger. You try to think of some way to explain the feeling like your heart is singing, but there are no words to contain it. “It’s very beautiful.”

Din allows his finger to be caught, and the child squeals in delight. Scrambles over one of your legs where you sit on the floor of the hull to try and draw the Mandalorian’s hand closer into himself. You chuckle and rub the child’s head, tap his little nose. Nothing distracts him from his victory and the child jumps and slips, leans himself up against your crossed legs, his little fingers clutched hard around his father’s hand.

“How long did it take you to figure out that was what it was?” Din asks eventually.

“His love?” The child kicks out, rolls side to side, still holding Din’s hand. His ears tickling your pant leg. “When he wants to play was the hardest. It’s such a specific feeling. But his love is so… so pure. It takes up everything when he feels it.”

You glance up just in time to see Din swallow, a harsh, thick swallow, and duck his head against his chest. His next breath shakes a little through his lips.

“There’s nothing similar to the love a child feels for their parent.” You tickle the back of the child’s ear. “And that is what he feels for you, Din.”

You look away from him, allow him a moment, and for the briefest moment you feel Din where he is sitting across from you, feel such a surge of powerful emotion your eyes fill with tears. Feel like you are going to break apart and be whole all at once. You do your best to concentrate on counting the even grating in the flooring, try to break from the intensity of the connection until it finally fades. Still leaves you with your hands shaking. And you see Din’s are as well, one still clutched against the child’s chest. The infant’s toothy smile makes you think once again that he knows – knows so much more than you give him credit for.

“You – ” Din his voice catches and he stops. Swallows again and clears his throat. “Not all love feels the same? You can feel the difference?”

You hum. “It doesn’t feel the same to you, does it? It’s the same. Some love is easier to understand than others. Some is… it’s more complicated. I don’t think everyone feels love the same way, sometimes it is very bright and warm, like with the child. Sometimes it is a much softer feeling. Or intense.” You shrug. “It’s not always obvious.”

Din looks up at you and in the low lights of the hull you can see the way his eyes are wet. He opens his mouth, starts to say something, but the child lets out a low cry and tugs at Din’s hand. He sighs softly, nudges the child with his hand. And when the child makes more impatient noises, tugs again, Din says something to him quietly in Mando’a. His voice sounds like he wants to be stern but is falling somewhere short of it.

“You call the child ad’ika.” You are feeling brave enough to ask him. Din looks up at you, his face coloured with surprise. “What does that mean?”

He blinks at you, stares blankly. “It – It means little one. Little son, or daughter.”

You smile and nod slowly. Mouth the word and repeat it mentally with all the other phrases you have learned. “And you call me Gotabor.”

“Yes.”

“And it means engineer? That’s what you said.” He nods. “Sometimes you say Gotabor’ika. Like ad’ika?”

Din shifts on the floor and doesn’t look up from the child. Rocks him back and forth with the hand on the child’s little belly. Catches the plasma screwdriver the child had been about to snatch from the ground beside him and hands it to you without thought or hesitation. The tips of the Mandalorian’s ears are a soft pink and spreading over the tops of his cheeks.

“Yes.” He watches the child astutely. “It… you add it to words to show familiarity.”

“Like friends?”

He glances at you and you see words almost formed. And then he looks away. “I would consider us friends.”

You laugh quietly, the sound is deep and rumbling, echoing around the Crest without the helmet on. Haven’t been wearing it while you eat or while you work. “I think so. I’ve thought we were friends for – for a while now.”

“I – ” He can’t seem to form the right way to say what he means. “You are one of my closest friends.”

You nod slowly. You are still holding the plasma screwdriver so you set it to the side carefully, far out of the child’s reach with your other powered tools. And then you turn back to the Mandalorian. Wait until he looks up at you, away from the child. You reach for his hand like you have wanted to, catch it and he turns his palm up to hold you back. Your smile broadens when you feel his fingers press firmly against your skin of your wrist. He seems to do it without thinking.

“I’m glad you found me on Batuu.”

He scoffs. “Even though we’re like this?”

You shrug and reach your other hand out to rub the soft hairs at the top of the child’s head. “I wouldn’t trade knowing you and the child for anything, Din.”

He says nothing, just stares at your face, his eyes flickering between the scar you know is on your nose and your eyes, down to your hands. He starts to say something more than once, but the words never form, never leave his lips. You wait for him patiently, even the child goes quiet against your leg, has stopped trying to get his father to play with him and stares up at you both with huge, dark eyes.

“Vor entye,” he says. “It means thank you.”

“Vor entye,” you repeat.

He nods and then leans across the small gap between you, his hand with the child, his other rests on top of yours. “Vor entye, Gotabor’ika.”

You know he means more than for calling him a friend. For more than the truth you had just given him. You hold his hand tighter, careful not to press him too roughly with your larger hands. There is another moment when you feel him, burning right through where your skin is against his, and the feeling lasts longer and lingers even after it has faded. You don’t try to decipher it, don’t try to think about what his heart has shown you and instead you repeat the phrase he has taught you again and again in your mind. Repeat all the others you have learned. You suspect, as with all the Mando’a you have come to know, that the phrase means something deeper than you can understand in Basic. The words turn over and over in your mind.

You move only when the child finally rolls out from beneath Din’s hand. You both shift back from each other, only slightly, hands still held. The child crawls up over your lap to slap both of his chubby three fingered hands down against the back of your bare hand and giggles. Turns clambering up onto where your arms are clasped together with Din’s into something of a game until Din finally growls playfully at him and lifts the child up under his armpits, makes him squeal in delight. Tickles his kicking feet until the kid is laughing so much his huge eyes squeeze shut.

.

Oseon is a crowded planet, has the strange feeling of lawlessness that comes with the Outer Rims, and yet it is more urban even than Garel had been. Nicer. There are no crammed market streets or dirty alleys. The Imperial Credits amassed between you are running low already, after restocking on Garel and paying for a week of lodgings. Once you pay for the three nights of docking at Oseon you have nothing left. The ship needs refuelling again after two weeks of light speed, and it will be longer than a month again before you arrive at Barab I. Food is beginning to run low. You feel out of place in the clean, wide streets of the planet, filled with richly dressed travellers and manned by shining droids. In the amour of the Mandalorian you feel at least some sense of power, feel untouchable when the crowds of people all around you clear to make way. Din stays close on your heels, tense and angry.

You spend your first day picking your way through every dock in the city, every mech shop and spare part stall asking for work. But Oseon has no need for mechanics, and not for anyone who doesn’t intend to stay. You manage to trade some spare parts which you had picked apart from the Crest’s spare fuel tank, now fixed. But the parts don’t sell for much. You buy lunch with the credits, enough for the child as well, and afterwards Din leaves you to seek work of his own. You continue your search – but there is nothing – Oseon has more droids than you can count, and plenty of skilled hands, drawn already from the steady flow of money from the tourists and the gamblers. But there is work for a bounty hunter. Not Guild work. There is no Guild presence on Oseon, and Din had not rejoined the Guild officially he tells you that night. Is edgy when he tells you about the job. But you have only paid for three nights accommodation and you have nothing to pay for more, or to get fuel or food. And it’s a simple job, he assures you. They don’t want the bounty alive.

“Who is he?” You ask over dinner. Push your food around your plate.

Din watches you carefully. “You don’t ask about the bounty.”

“Right.” You nod jerkily. “So we – we just go out and kill this man?”

“No. I go out and kill this man. You stay here with the kid.”

You stare down at your hands, clasped between your knees. “Din, you can’t go out on your own like this. Like that!” You gesture down to your body, the body he inhabits. “You don’t have any Beskar – ”

“I can bring in a bounty without my Beskar.”

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant. What if they were wrong? What if this man has someone watching his back, what if there are more of them and you’re alone out there?”

“Then I’ll deal with it.”

“Din – ”

He stands abruptly. “Do you remember what you said to me on Garel? We can’t both go. If something happens to me, I need to know the kid has you.”

Your retort dies on your tongue. You have to drop your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. Stare down at your half-finished food. It feels wrong and selfish to not be able to finish it when you are debating Din putting himself in danger just to earn enough to feed you. But you can’t make yourself eat more – aren’t sure you’ll be able to keep it down if you do. Your stomach churns. He rests a hand light against your pauldron and takes the plate gently from you and sets it to the side. Crouches down in front of your crate and ducks so he can catch your eye again.

“What if something happens?”

“We’ve done this before,” he reminds you. “I can handle a simple shoot and fetch.”

“Not – not like this.” You sigh heavily and lean against where Din’s hand is still on the armour. “You know the kid will always have me. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know. I’m not.”

You think of a hundred arguments, of a hundred ways to tell him you are scared for him to leave, and you open your mouth again to tell them to him. But no sound comes out. You just deflate slowly and wish that there was some other way. If there is one you do not know it. You have just enough credits for Din to hire a speeder bike, the fastest way for him to traverse beyond the edges of the city, and the best way for him to bring back the body. Has two more nights to complete the task because then your docking runs out and the ship would be impounded. You hate it. You hate the world for having to agree to this. Din is more than capable of handling it – you know it. Even without his Beskar and his strength he is just as smart and resourceful as he had always been. And you know he will be careful. But you think of the functions of the helmet which would let him see other enemies approaching, think of the protection of the Beskar against laser fire. Think of every possible way the coming job could go wrong. But saying them aloud won’t help.

So you agree.

Din sets off before the sun rises the next morning. He moves quietly, and tries not to wake you, but you had barely slept the night before and you sit up before he leaves. Have the strongest urge to wrap your arms around him and hold him in the Crest so he cannot go. But you don’t, only move from the bed when he lowers the ramp. Slip the helmet on as you stand as protection against the empty dock beyond. Din reassures you he will be back before your docking time is up and you only nod. He hesitates on the ramp, turns back towards you. He has his rifle strapped to his back, two blasters at his sides. He looks at ease, loaded with the familiar weight of weaponry, despite how much larger they all look against your body.

He says your name, not Gotabor. And it makes the nerves in your stomach tighten to a painful knot. You try to remind yourself you do not need to worry about him. That Din is perfectly capable. That he will be fine.

“Din.” His name sounds harsh through the vodocor of the helmet. Echoes off the metallic walls of the ship and bounces back to you. “Be careful.”

He steps back up the ramp, a thought crossing clearly over his face, and opens his mouth. You pad out towards him and the floor is cold under your bare feet. The early morning air is fresh and crisp without the rest of the armour on. You wonder if he is thinking that this will be the first time you have properly separated in two months, the longest time you will have spent apart since the change. You wonder if he is nervous that he will misjudge something, used to his own body and not to yours, and make some error which will end his life. If he is thinking about you being stuck in his body forever if he dies. If these thoughts had kept him awake the night before as they had you. But you do not know because he says nothing, turns back down the ramp and is gone.

. 

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[sciencespies]

Groundbreaking New Images of Cosmic Web Strands Revealed by Astronomers

https://sciencespies.com/space/groundbreaking-new-images-of-cosmic-web-strands-revealed-by-astronomers/

Groundbreaking New Images of Cosmic Web Strands Revealed by Astronomers

Although the Universe is a large place, and all the stuff in it may seem just flung everywhere higgledy-piggledy, there’s rather more structure than we can see.

According to our models of the Universe, and mounting evidence, filaments of dark matter connect massive objects such as galaxies and galaxy clusters in a vast, cosmic web.

It’s along these filaments that hydrogen flows, feeding into the galaxies, but they’re not so easy to see – among all the brightly glowing stars and galaxies and galactic nuclei, the faint emission from diffuse hydrogen in intergalactic space is hard to see, never mind map.

We just got a step closer, though. In the culmination of years of work, an international team of astronomers led by Roland Bacon of the Lyon Astrophysical Research Center in France has just directly imaged several filaments of the cosmic web in the early Universe, roughly 12 billion light-years away.

Hydrogen filaments (in blue). (Roland Bacon/David Mary/ESO/NASA)

Their results are not just some of the strongest evidence yet for the cosmic web; they also found evidence that a large population of dwarf galaxies powers the hydrogen glow within the filaments. This discovery could dramatically alter our understanding of galaxy formation in the infancy of the Universe.

Because the cosmic web is so hard to see, a lot of our evidence so far has been indirect. Some scientists have used the way mass bends space-time – gravitational lensing – to look for warps in the path of distant light, which suggest that a strand of the cosmic web is between its source and us.

Other researchers use the light of quasars, extremely bright distant galaxies, to search for light absorbed by hydrogen along the filaments.

(Jeremy Blaizot/projet SPHINX)

Above: Cosmological simulation of the distant Universe, with light emitted by hydrogen atoms in the cosmic web in a region roughly 15 million light years across.

Bacon and his team took a different approach – staring at a teeny-tiny patch of the sky for a really, really long time, with a really awesome telescope. Using the MUSE instrument on the ESO’s Very Large Telescope in Chile, the team took an incredible 140 hours of observations of a section of sky that also appeared in the Hubble Space Telescope’s Ultra-Deep Field.

Similar research had been conducted, with astronomers looking for strands of light in a cluster of galaxies - threads of gas ionized by the galaxies themselves. Here, too, Bacon’s team’s work differs from previous efforts: the earlier research investigated an extreme environment, while the new research deliberately looked somewhere nondescript.

Following the planning stage, the team’s observations took months to obtain, from August 2018 until January 2019. They had to be taken in blocks during the new Moon to minimize interference.

(Thibault Garel/Roland Bacon)

Above: Cosmological simulation of a filament made up of hundreds of thousands of small galaxies (as seen in situ on left, as seen by MUSE on right).

Then, the team had to process and analyze the data, which took another year. But it was worth it – not only were 40 percent of the galaxies in their data undetectable in the Ultra Deep Field, but the researchers had imaged glowing hydrogen in filaments of the cosmic web, spanning millions of light-years.

Fascinatingly, the team’s analysis shows that the bulk of the hydrogen emission could be accounted for by a large population of star-forming dwarf galaxies, spread out along the filament. We can’t see them individually, of course – they’re way too far away to resolve – but future work could help confirm this discovery, with huge implications for our understanding of the Universe.

If dwarf galaxies are also being channeled along cosmic web filaments, like drops of water down a piece of string, it could help explain how galaxies formed and grew – and grew to prodigious sizes in the early Universe, a question that has perplexed cosmologists.

In addition, searching for the emission of star-forming dwarf galaxies could help us find more filaments of the cosmic web, and a deeper understanding of how everything in the Universe is connected.

The research has been published in Astronomy & Astrophysics.

#Space

[ashlan-zeal]

"Who says that dreams and nightmares are not as real as the here and now?"

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ahsoka asked Ezra while they took to orbit. Her small ship had a cargo ID in rule and didn’t have any problems crossing the tight security of the several Imperial ships around Lothal.

“I… We were returning to the base. To Yavin,” Ezra explained staring blankly at the stars.

“Yavin, huh?” Ahsoka’s eyes lit up with interest. “We have prospected the area before but we were still thinking of our options. Most of the other cells refuse to work together.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Ezra remembered there hadn’t been any transmission from his part or… “Wait. What about Mon Mothma? Is she still alive?”

“Oh… She got captured a while back when she left the Senate,” Ahsoka bit her lower lip. That had been a morale blow for everyone. They hadn’t gotten to her on time. Ezra sunk on his seat. Something in the back of his mind told him that maybe if his parents hadn’t heard the transmission they might be still alive in prison, but Azadi was also missing and… he couldn’t sense them. Just like the Ghost crew… all he could feel was either a void or coldness. They had died. He closed his eyes as a few tears rolled down his cheeks, but he hurried to dry them.

“Just before returning to base, we had saved a few engineers and destroyed a huge kyber crystal. Gerrera wanted to-”

“Saw Gerrera?” Ahsoka frowned. “You were working with Saw Gerrera??” she said with disgust and anger.

“A couple of times… we didn’t part in the best terms,” he said a little nervous. “Why?”

Ashoka was scowling looking ahead. “We lost Lothal because of him.”

“What!?”

“After the Ghost Crew disappeared, no other group took their place… things went downhill pretty quick,” Ahsoka explained and took a deep breath. “When they opened that TIE fighter factory in Lothal... a lot of people didn’t have another option and started to work there. Then, it seems Gerrera caught wind they were doing some kind of secret project there and… he used a service droid to blow the fuel depot… on rush hour.”

Ezra’s jaw dropped. “How many dea-?”

“Several hundred workers died. Thousands were injured. He said that whoever was helping the Empire in any way deserved to go down with them. The people of Lothal lost all trust in the Rebels… Several sympathizers were arrested snitched by locals. They didn’t like the Empire but at least they wouldn’t blow their own, they said.”

A ball of anger started to grow on Ezra’s throat. That’s why they were contracting people instead of droids to do menial tasks at the port. He regretted not looking up further when he was back there.

“Gerrera was… not good… but we had managed to talk to him out of doing a bunch of stuff before,” Ezra said in low voice. “But yeah… he was certainly going on that direction”.

The travel through hyperspace to Garel was short. Surprisingly, Garel didn’t seem too different from what Ezra remembered from his early time here. Ahsoka took Ezra to present him to Sato as Jedi-in-training and left it at that. Seeing Sato was… a shock too. His eyes didn’t have that passion he used to have working for the Rebellion. He looked sad and somewhat bitter.

-Oh no...Mart.- Ezra thought. Mart must have been either killed or taken prisoner over Mykapo. -Dammit...the rest of my friends… Zare, his sister, Jai...- they were gone. Even if he was visibly upset he shook Sato’s hand and promised to do whatever it was possible to help them. Ahsoka and he obviously left out the issue of Ezra coming from another reality… no one else needed to know.

“If Ahsoka vouches for you, then I can’t turn you down. If you are going to stay here you will need some new ID and papers for Garel,” Sato said giving him a curious look. “Please, go to this address with our contact. Give her this code…”

Ezra went on his own, while Ahsoka and Sato discussed the state of Lothal, explaining what she had seen and the increased security. Ezra knew the streets in this city so he had no problem to find the house with the contact. He knocked once, then thrice, then once, just as he was told. The door opened a little and he could see a woman peering through.

“Yes?”

“I need help with a poem. I heard you are a good writer,” Ezra said the secret password too. These Rebels were really suspicious and paranoid, always looking over their shoulders, and he couldn’t blame them. The woman huffed and nodded.

“Fine, fine, I can help,” she said with some reluctance and opened the door. Ezra gasped recognizing her.

“Maketh Tua,” he whispered in disbelief. Tua’s face was washed with fear and pulled him inside quickly and looking outside worriedly hoping no one had heard him.

“Don’t go saying that in the open! I’m not Maketh Tua. My name is Rita Zante. Alright??” she pointed at him shaking with fear. “How do you know me? Have they put a hit on my head? Have you seen wanted posters or something?”

“Oh… no. I… I used to live in Lothal,” he tried to find the right explanation. “I lived in Lothal all my life until recently.”

“Ah… I see,” she straightened up regaining a little of her composure. “I see. Alright… that explains that. You almost killed me from the impression… just… don’t go saying my old name around. Ok, if you come for Lothal making your fake ID will be easier for me… just sit there.”

Ezra sat watching her go through some info on her datapad and comparing it to a stack of papers she had in a desk. Maketh Tua was alive here. She had not been killed when trying to defect when they were being chased by Vader. Ezra remembered Yoda’s words:

Your right, someone’s wrong might be.

If he made things ‘right’ it would mean Ahsoka, Sato and Tua would be gone. Who knows how many other people would be affected. He shook his head.

-Just focus on the problem at hand. Helping the Rebellion. I’m still too weak to do anything about it so there’s no point on worrying on...consequences.-

After an hour or so, Ezra had the best fake ID he’d ever seen. For all intents and purposes, he was now a citizen of Garel. He was also given a tiny private room in an apartment building instead of a shared one on their “base”. It was sad to see this Rebellion so far behind of his own. That night, in the privacy of his room, he cried silently, letting all his pain and sadness out. He knew he couldn’t keep it all in or it would lead him closer to the darkside. Holding at the pillow, he sobbed for his friends and he sobbed for Kanan. He cried for how alone he felt and how much he missed him. But he needed to keep going… even if it hurt. And with that, his new life with the Rebellion started from scratch.

During the following days, Ezra would make small ‘milk runs’, help with scouting, spying and all the normal things he could do without the aid of the Force. On the days Ahsoka returned from some secret meeting or mission they would train and meditate together. As soon as he finished his lightsaber (this time with a regular hilt but with his old blue crystal) he started sparring with Ahsoka seriously. Her training style was very different from Kanan’s, making much more aggressive and dangerous approaches. It was harder than what he remembered, or maybe he was just too far behind? She would push his physical and mental limits with the Force. In any case, Ahsoka was impressed. While his connection with the Force was slowly recovering, luckily, his memories for his fighting techniques were almost untouched.

His nights were restless and every day he would wake up feeling worried and alone. His heart ached, but all he could remember from his dreams was a thick darkness and a sense of hopelessness.

-No, I can’t give in. Kanan wouldn’t want me to...- and that gave him just enough warmth to keep going.

One day, Ezra had been tasked on delivering a package to a group on another city in Garel. He took a bike and headed out by himself. He didn’t expect any trouble… but he also never expected to get his life turned around more than already was.

He was driving down the highway, no other transport on sight, when he heard it. He pressed the brakes so fast he almost thrown ahead from the inertia. He looked around and up almost desperately until he saw it.

The Ghost flew overhead.

A chill ran down his spine. He was frozen in shock. Even though it was repainted, he could have recognized the sound of the engines anywhere, in this reality or back home. Then, after a second he accelerated chasing it. It was also heading towards the same city, but it was going much faster and quickly left him behind. He reached into the Force, trying to feel if he recognized who was flying it but it was a stranger. A ball of anger started to form on his stomach. Someone had taken the Ghost for themselves. He rushed through the gates of the city and the streets to the spaceport as fast as he could, but by the time he found the right landing pad, the ship was already leaving.

“NO!” Ezra cursed watching it go. He turned around and saw a bunch Troopers looking at him. They were moving some cargo around. Ezra became very still.

“Do you have a problem?” one of the troopers asked, suspicious of him.  

“Oh… sorry. I just… I just saw that ship and… I had never seen a VCX-100 modded like that. Wow! I mean, it was a  VCX-100 right? I wished I could see it more closely!” Ezra laughed nervously and looking sheepish.

“Yeah, a VCX-100,” the trooper wasn't totally convinced. “You can’t stay here while we load our cargo to the transport. Now scram,” the trooper motioned him to get back.

“Yeah! Sorry! Sorry, sir!” Ezra turned around, his smile immediately disappearing from his face as soon as he was out of sight from them. He went to ask around the port about details on the Ghost, always under the pretense of being a fanatic of modded ships. He even used a few terms he had heard from Hera and Sabine to sound knowledgeable. All he learned was what he feared…

The Ghost, it seemed, was the propriety of the Empire right now. With some more coaxing, he also learned the ship used to make deliveries from Lothal and a few other systems to this port. They said it should be heading for Lothal right now.

Cursing in low voice he delivered the package he was meant to and went back to Ahsoka immediately. She had just left from a talk with Sato when he arrived to their ‘base’.

“We need to talk,” he didn’t even wait for a hello, pulling her aside. He explained everything that he saw and learned. “We need to get the Ghost back”

“Ezra…” she wasn't sure of his idea.

“No, no you don’t get it. If I remember correctly the Holocron AND Kanan’s lightsaber could be still there, hidden away in a secret compartment.”

“The holocron that you said had the coordinates to the Temple on Lothal?” Ahsoka blinked with worry.

“YES! Besides… I have seen what other ships this Rebel cell has in the fleet. They couldn’t hold a candle to the Ghost,” Ezra said with sadness. “Hera would never want the Ghost on Imperial hands. She would have wanted the Rebellion to use it for our cause.”

Ahsoka sighed and nodded. “You are right. Let’s get it back.”

They flew to Lothal that same day, wasting no time. They went into the city taking care to avoid the patrols and went to the edge of the Imperial base. They saw the Ghost on one of the landing pads.

“We can use it to flee. If any ship is capable of crossing the blockade while being chased, it's the Ghost,” Ezra said with resolution.

They both headed stealthily towards the ship… but midway, Ezra stopped in his place, a chill ran down his spine. The Force was trying to tell him something. Trying to catch his attention.

“Ezra?”

“I…” he blinked in confusion, unable to explain what he was feeling.

“HEY!” someone yelled behind him. A Storm Trooper had glimpsed them, attracting the attention of his peers and raised their blasters.

“Dammit!” Ezra barely had time to throw himself to the side to avoid being shot. Ahsoka also took cover, trying not to take her lightsabers out and reveal themselves as Jedi.

Somewhere inside the base, Kallus was tensely reporting to the Inquisitor, who had seemingly lost interest on their talk. Something had caught his attention, but with the mask on, Kallus couldn’t tell exactly what. He dared not to ask because from the moment the new Inquisitor had arrived on Lothal Kallus could feel a great hatred towards his persona from him. Kallus didn’t want to give this man any excuse to cut his head off. At that moment, his comm activated.

“SIR! We got intruders on the west landing port. It seems like they are trying to steal a VCX-100 freighter!”

Kallus blinked. He knew that ship. Before he could say anything, the Inquisitor raised from his seat, igniting his red lightsaber.

“I'll deal will them. Send all available troops to stall them,” the Inquisitor ordered him.

“What-?” Kallus started but the blade came suddenly dangerously close to his throat. He stiffened.

“Do it,” it was the last warning. Kallus felt a chill down his spine and pure hatred coming from the Inquisitor. If he did not comply, he would be killed right there.

“As you wish.”

Ezra was returning fire when he noticed the growing number of Troopers showing up between them and the Ghost… And then they saw a red glow coming out of the doors of the base from their right. An inquisitor was running towards them.

“We will have to fight,” Ahsoka took her lightsabers. “We need to get to the Ghost, NOW.”

“I'll handle the Inquisitor,” Ezra said suddenly realizing their situation.

“What?”

“I can't block all those blasters without better Force reflexes, you know that. My fighting technique is the best thing I have right now. I can hold the Inquisitor back while you clear off a path.”

She gritted her teeth. He was right.

“Don't get killed,” she nodded and stood in the open deflecting blast after blast towards the troopers, knocking them out.

Ezra needed to buy time and not get beheaded while doing it. Yes, his lightsaber technique was mostly intact... but not having his full Force proficiency back was going to be a problem as many of the forms required almost supernatural precision and timing to pull off.

“Stick to the basics. Mix it up,” he murmured under his breath. This wasn't an Inquisitor he had met before so he had no idea of his fighting style. He had a feeling of apprehension on his stomach as he ran towards the Inquisitor.

-Yeah, this is dangerous, but there is no other way!- he told himself trying to dismiss the emotion. Ezra went all out with an aggressive approach, combining Form 1 and Form 2, surprising the Inquisitor who immediately fell back to a defensive style. Ezra was glad. It seemed the Inquisitor had not expected someone like him to be able to bring that into a fight. This was risky, but Ezra was almost sure he would be able to go toe to toe with an Inquisitor of a similar level. He knew he needed to dictate the terms of the fight and not give him one moment of respite... and yet...

Something was wrong.

The more he fought, the more the feeling of apprehension grew on him. Now that he had a better connection with the Force he could feel the alarms in the back of his mind. He needed to stop. He needed to get away. The Inquisitor sensed his hesitation and countered back. Ezra had suddenly lost the upper hand on their duel. In a desperate risky move, Ezra blocked then swirled around, rising his lightsaber, vertically slashing off the mask from the Inquisitors face. The inquisitor had jumped back just in time avoiding getting his face slashed too.

The mask fell. The Inquisitor turned to Ezra ready for more. Ezra saw him and his eyes went wide with horror as his whole body reeled back on a state of shock.

NO. IT CAN'T BE.

Ahsoka felt his fear through the Force, making her look back with worry.

“Ezra?”

Ezra couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.

It was Kanan. Short hair. Tattoo marks on his face. Bright yellow eyes… Ezra's lightsaber fell from his hand and he didn't even notice.

“I can feel your despair. The dread…” Kanan narrowed his eyes with an evil pleased smirk.

“EZRA!” Ahsoka’s scream urged him into action but it seemed so far away and he couldn't look back. He could only see and hear HIM, approaching with the red lightsaber.

“Kanan,” Ezra managed to say. His voice was trembling, his body barely holding up. The name made the Inquisitor stop in his tracks and frown, perhaps surprised to hear the name again.

“...Wrong. Tenth Brother,” he shook his head.

“...No…” tears started falling from Ezra's eyes. He felt the world around him collapsing, the core of his being cracking under despair.

“Strange. You are not afraid of dying. What is it then?” Kanan asked curiously but Ezra just looked at him helplessly. “No matter... it ends here.”

“Snap out of it!” Ahsoka yelled running to him and felt a surge in the Force just like that day in the tower.

“NO!” Ezra cried out just as Kanan raised the lightsaber to strike him. Ezra released a huge Force push sending Kanan flying back in surprise. Ezra collapsed in the floor like last time but Ahsoka was there the next second.

“Stand up! We're leaving!” she picked his lightsaber and grabbed him by the wrist pulling him up. She had finished with the troopers blocking them from the Ghost but soon more would follow.

“No... Kanan!” Ezra weakly resisted.

“I can't fight him and defend you at the same time!”

“Kanan!” he was out of himself but Ahsoka was stronger.

“Move!”

“I have to-” he pleaded.

“He's an inquisitor now!” she was almost dragging him away.

“NO!” he cried out in despair, just as he caught glimpse of Kanan standing up with murderous hatred in his eyes. And that sight made something inside Ezra break and he let himself be guided into the Ghost without another word.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618783

[warsamongstthestar-keen]

Chapter Twenty

Keen gazes out from the ramp of the Ghost, watching Ezra and Rex doing some blaster training.

A Stormtrooper helmet is balanced haphazardly on Chopper's dome, who is quickly racing around behind some crates. Ezra shoots toward the helmet, missing each shot completely.

"Aim, then fire."

The boy fires off a few more shots in the general direction of his target, commenting, "Rex, I bet sometimes even you miss."

"Eh, I don't know about that Ez. Not sure I've seen him miss a target, at least not when it counts."

Rex nods in thanks at the General,  a smile on his face.

"Speaking of missing," Kanan drawls, as he strolls up behind the Padawan, "you're missing Jedi training. Which is now. Remember?"

"You know, I can't be in two places at once."

The Clone crosses his arms, "As a soldier, you're gonna have to learn to prioritize."

"Well, he's not a soldier. He's a Jedi," the Knight rebuts.

Keen rolls her eyes, as she walks over to her arguing friends. She gets near just in time to hear Ezra mumble, "What if I don't want to be either?"

"Ezzie? Buddy? Are you okay?" she asks, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.

He doesn't get the chance to answer, because Sabine sticks her head just out of the ramp of the Ghost. "Hey, practice squad, Hera called a meeting. Attendance is mandatory."

Ezra shrugs the Jedi Master's arms off his shoulders, marching onto the ship.

"So, what's bothering him?" Rex asks Kanan.

"No idea. This is new."

"He's almost a teenager, they have phases. Don't worry he'll get over it. It happens with everyone. It's even worse when your teenage years last a century," she mumbles the last sentence almost to herself.

Apparently they both hear her, judging by the strange looks she receives. Shrugging, she walks aboard the ship, walking straight to the common area. A tiny hologram of Commander Sato hovers over the table. As Kanan and Rex walk in behind her, the man says, "As we speak, the frozen planet of Rinn is facing an energy crisis. When their supply of fuel cells is gone, the settlements will not be able to power the heaters they need to survive."

"They'll freeze down there," Sabine comments.

"Since we're on Garel," Ezra starts, "we should check out the black market."

"They're bound to have something, maybe some generators we can get our hands on," Keen adds.

"See what you can find, without delay."

"Gear up, everyone. Time to make friends with the locals," Hera states. The rebel crew all move to the exit, Rex and Leia leaving as well. "Except you, Spectre-6," the Twi'lek orders. Keen and Leia stop, both walking backwards slightly up the ramp. "I asked you to clean the ion scoring off the Phantom's exhaust ports, twice."

"But I had Jedi practice. And blaster practice," he whines.

"Well, now you have scrubbing practice."

Chopper wheels away, laughing at the boy. Hera adjusts her glare to face the astro mech, "What are you laughing at? Uh-uh. You're gonna help him." The droid grumbles, rolling off the ramp.

Keen looks over at her Padawan, a single raised eyebrow. Leia sighs, meeting her Master's eyes.

"Ezra," she calls, waving over at him.

"What?"

"I think I'll stay and give you a hand. I'd like to hear more about your Jedi practice."

"What? Really?"

The Knight, Master, and Twi'lek exit the ship. Kanan glances over at Keen, "I'm assuming you had something to do with that?"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Right."

The group make their way to the city, in search of some generators. Keen and Rex go off in one direction, the other team members splitting off in separate directions. As they maneuver down an alleyway, the Jedi Master suddenly has a strong feeling hit her. She leans against the wall, taking a deep breath.

"General?" Rex asks, stepping in front of her, "Are you okay?"

"I sense a disturbance in the Force. Something's not right."

The Clone sighs, "Where are we headed, Sir?"

"Back to the Ghost," she says, taking off in the direction of the port. "And make sure you contact the others, tell them to keep searching. If anything's wrong, we'll tell them."

The Clone nods, grabbing his comm, while following the Jedi. It doesn't take the two long to get back to the ship, finding no kids, no Chopper, and no Phantom.

"Shab!" she swears.

"Do you think someone grabbed them?" Rex asks her.

Keen sighs, "No. Chopper would've killed them, and they're both capable of fending off anyone. They left of their own volition, probably to go and do something reckless. They should be fine."

"You don't sound too sure."

"Jedi don't deal in absolutes."

Beginning of Brothers of a Broken Horn

[eyeloch]

Kindling the Fires

There’d been a message.  A tiny spark that had set the galaxy ablaze.  Ezra Bridger was that spark, but there were many who helped to spread the message from Lothal to the depths of an imperial prison.   This is but one of these tales.

The holonet was never truly rolled out to private citizens, even in the days of the republic.  What little access larger businesses had was stripped away for “security” reasons during the wars, and wasn’t ever returned - not without caveats.

Scheduled HoloNet shows were the entirety of what the average person got from the greatest communication tool in the galaxy.  Endless news shows, talk shows, and thinly veiled product promotions were all you could get, normally.

Thew Laurent wasn’t most people.

On Garel, they lived a life of drudgery - translating “important” information from radio transmissions into to holonet data in Garel’s central comms tower.  Anything and everything of any real note was encrypted, and split between more than a few people besides.  Thus they lived a comfortable, yet unremarkable, life - their only vice being using their position to listen in to the pilots.  At times Thew might fantasise of speeding around the galaxy, but they knew that a spacer’s life was mostly daily toil too.

But then a message came from Lothal across the networks, and everything changed.  Data rushed through every band of transmission - something designed for literally everyone to see.  That alone made Thew run the message to their screen and their listening device.  

There wasn’t any proper picture, just the visual crackle of a hastily inserted data-spike, and something vaguely circular.  A young voice began to speak, with conviction Thew hadn’t really ever expressed themselves.  Without even thinking about it, they’d flipped the switches to record the file.

This was treason.

They couldn’t walk out with any copied data - for employees at the Imperial Buildings on Garel had insanely rigorous checks, ever since (a little before) last Empire Day. 

They couldn’t send it further along the holonet and pretend they didn’t know better, not now their manager was shouting to cease transmissions.

They could pretend to be stupid, but that would only get them thrown in some imperial prison regardless.

The boy in the message had stopped, Thew dimly noted through their growing haze of fear.  They had to make a choice in moments.

Then, suddenly, the feed died.  With an electronic pop, the Holonet was gone.

A brilliant, delicate network destroyed for almost the entire sector just to silence a lone voice?  It didn’t make sense - it took over a year (and millions of credits) to get the central communications tower on Lothal to full working order, why would anyone destroy it all just to stop a boy from speaking?

Unless the Empire was really weak enough to begin to crack from a few simple words?  Unless the Imperials were so thin-skinned they’d destroy everything rather than risk someone else using their toys.

In that moment, Thew Laurent made their decision.

With the manager trying to raise the Lawbriger on more primitive comms, they had just enough time to do their usual job in reverse - translating the data of the saved message into a form that almost any radio could pick up.

With a gulp and a whispered prayer to nothing in particular, Thew used their illegal connection to the pilots’ chatter - and broadcast the message into every ship in Garel City, every ship over Garel airspace or orbiting the planet.

That they would doubtless die for this pounded in their head as the message sent.  But at least, for one brief moment, they’d made a little bit of history.

[theabominableblogger]

Rewatching “Brothers of the Broken Horn”

I keep spelling “Broken” as “Borken,” which would make this a very different episode indeed.  Nanu nanu!

When this show uses purple, it’s really pretty.

Man, they really need to wash the Ghost

Where the heck is Garel in correlation with the other planets?

Oh my gosh, Hera using her Mom voice on Chopper.

Ezra, stop whining.

This episode starts the grand old tradition of Ezra trusting everyone he meets, even if they’re villains

Oh my God, Ezra, no...

You’re grounded

Ezra:  I’m gonna wear this helmet that absolutely does not match with my outfit whatsoever.  I’ll totally blend in.

Man, I forgot how tiny Ezra was in S1 and S2

HONDO!

“I’m... Lando Calrissian.”  *face palm*

Ezra is very much grounded after watching this episode.

*Ezra makes a deal with Hondo*  Buddy...

*Azmorigan appears*  Shit.

“I don’t deal with washed up old relics!”  “Come now, let’s leave your wife out of this.”

Never not funny

Oh my gosh, Hondo sits down super casually (or criss cross applesauce) after being shoved down by Azmorigan’s guards.

“You lied to me?  I knew I liked you!”  Oh my gosh.

What’s that bit of armor Ezra has on his leg?

*Chopper goes after Azmorigan, guns blazing*  Amazing.

“I’m rich!  I’m dead!”

*Hondo talks about his “best friend”, the Jedi*  KENOBI!

“Did I just join his crew?”  Oh my God, Ezra.

Why don’t Jedi ever use the Force to just push droids out of the way?  Is that so hard to do?

HONDO JUST TOOK THE PHANTOM!  YOU DON’T JUST DO THAT!

Ezra, you’re very much grounded.

[Hondo bullcraps his way out of trouble] *groans*

Ground his ass, Kanan.

Whaddya bet with that last shot when Kanan puts his arm on Ezra’s shoulder, he goes “Hera says you’re grounded.”

What the hell are with your commercials, Disney XD?

[pannypunkpanda]

Tiny Techno witch Garel with his familiar Gris — October 8

[pannypunkpanda]

Happy New Years everyone! Best wishes from all the Tiny Brühlies, they’re having a New Year’s party XD jfjdkdkdkd — December 31

List of Brühlies (please refer to December 22 post to see the number references)

1. Paul Krantz - Love in Thoughts

2. Lt Horstmayer - Joyeux Noël

3. Matthias Erzberger - all quiet on the western front

4. Tonda - Krabat

5. István Thurzó - The Countess

6. Checo - Schlaraffenland/Paradise mall

7. Jan - Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei/The Edukators

8. Father Antonio - The Intruders

9. Other Dirk - All together

10. David Kern - Lila Lila

11. Daniel Weltz - Nebenan

12. Niki Lauda - Rush

13. Sebastian Zöllner - Ich und Kaminski

14. Konrad Koch - Der ganz große Traum

15. Alex Kerner - Goodbye Lenin

16. Andrea - Ladies in lavender

17. Daniel - Colonia

18. Hans Krämer - Die kommenden Tage

19. Wilfried Böse - 7 days in Entebbe

20. Ernst Schmidt - The Cloverfield Paradox

21. Iván Pelayos - The Pelayos

22. Dr Laszlo Kreizlier - the Alienist

23. Daniel Berg - the fifth estate

24. Alex Garel - Eva

25. Thomas Lang - The face of an Angel

26. Lukas - das weiße rauschen/The white sound

27. Dirk Brûlée - Everything at once

28. Hubertus Czernin - Woman in Gold

29. Marko - Elefantenherz

30. Baron Zemo - Marvel

31. Tony Balerdi - Burnt

[pannypunkpanda]

A pile of Tiny Brühlies! — October 12

(Dirk, Böse, Niki, Tony, Zemo, Hubertus, Kerner, Andrea, Zöllner, Schmidt, Laszlo, Konrad, Garel, Iván, Weltz)

[pannypunkpanda]

Happy Birthday to my favorite actor, Daniel Brühl! — June 16

List of characters in this picture; Zemo, Tony, Schmidt, Dirk, Laszlo, Iván, Niki, Hubertus, Sebastian, Thomas, David, Kerner, Andrea, Marko, Weltz, Berg, Garel, Lt. Horstmayer, Böse, Paul, Jan, Lukas, and Checo.

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Brühlie doodles today.

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Alex Garel holding Gris… cause it’s cute. — June 17

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Another set of Brühlies (Thomas, David, Konrad, Kerner, Andrea, Marko, Weltz, Berg, Garel) — May 10

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Tiny Alex Garel — January 18