#tw: sw mention

[galactic-rhea]

i am sooo desperate to see more art of shmi skywalker because i love her so much so thats DEFINITELY my doodle request lol

The original Skywalker, you're so right about it.

Also I have her a good friend, I'll call her...idk, Tei Demma (she is another slave, obviously).

[daisy-mooon]

Bo Katan's vibes are so rancid (affectionate)

[jdsgothwife]

why did so many 2012 bandom girls make these and why do i think they’re so funny

[jedi-enthusiast]

Debunking the "The Jedi are Evil" Theory Made by The Film Theorists PT 4

Point 4 - The Jedi are a Cult

(TW: Human Trafficking, SA in regards to Human Trafficking)

Oh boy! We've finally gotten to the point that every single anti-Jedi idiot makes when they claim that the Jedi are evil!

Let's see what exactly Matthew says about it:

"The Jedi Order is a irrevocable cult that lands somewhere between an involuntary boot camp and human trafficking!"

Wow, that's quite a claim! Surely if you're making a claim like that, you've checked to make sure that the Jedi Order fits at least one of those definitions, right?

Let's check!

---

Cult Definition:

"A relatively small group of people having beliefs or practices, especially relating to religion, that are regarded by others as strange or sinister or as imposing excessive control over members." - via Oxford Dictionary, according to Google

The Jedi Order is about a group of 10,000 during the Prequels, so not exactly what I would call small--but sure, I'll give you small, since that's a pretty negligible amount of people in the galaxy.

Their beliefs and practices are rarely seen as a bit odd by people who aren't Jedi and/or haven't ever interacted with the Jedi, but for the most part people just regard their practices as hard to follow--since they practice a lot of self control and emotional regulation (which is healthy)--but ultimately good. Their beliefs definitely aren't regarded as "sinister."

The only people we see that even come close to believing that are the protesters in TCW, but they just think the Jedi are wrong for fighting in the war. It's nothing about their beliefs or practices.

And the Jedi certainly don't exercise "excessive control" over their members.

Many of the members dress differently, we're shown that the Jedi often disagree with each other and interpret their philosophy differently, the Jedi can leave the Order whenever they want, many members of the Order also practice the cultures of their homeworlds, people are literally appointed to the Council for thinking differently because the Jedi want to have differing viewpoints brought up, etc.

They even bend their own fucking rules sometimes to help their fellow Jedi!

Once a female Jedi fell in love and got pregnant and hid it, and Yoda and Dooku literally had a conversation where Yoda said point blank that they would've helped her, if they'd have known about it!

Literally the only things that the Jedi are anal about are:

1. Don't kill or hurt people, except as a last resort.

and 2. don't turn to the Dark Side (and I've already outlined why that's bad).

And even when people do turn to the Dark Side and hurt people, the Jedi fucking help them! They, of course, hold them accountable for their actions, but they try to help them turn back to Light and do better in the future!

---

Welp, they obviously don't fit the definition of a cult. Let's see about the next definition--involuntary boot camp.

Involuntary Definition:

"Done against someone's will; compulsory." - via Google

Boot Camp Definition:

"A place for training soldiers, especially new recruits." - via Google

Considering that parents willingly give up their children to the Jedi Order and then those children--when they grow up--choose to stay, since we've already established that they can leave at any time, I'd say that the Jedi Order definitely isn't involuntary.

And, as I've said before, the Jedi Order is a religious institution--not a militia--and even the work they do for the Republic is primarily diplomatic and peacekeeping ventures. So they're definitely not a boot camp either.

---

Wow, that's two definitions down that the Jedi definitely don't fit!

This next one's quite a serious claim, though, so the Jedi must fit this one--because it'd be pretty tone deaf and shitty to make said claim without it actually being true, right?

Human Trafficking Definition:

"Human trafficking is the trade of humans for the purpose of forced labour, sexual slavery, or commercial sexual exploitation." - via Wikipedia

HOLY SHIT, YOU COULD NOT BE MORE WRONG!

The Jedi do not "trade" their initiates, they do not force them into labor, and they certainly don't sexually exploit them--what the actual fuck is wrong with you to make this claim?

Especially when nothing we're shown is even remotely close to coming near this definition--even in the worst bad-faith reading of SW media.

Wow, so not a single thing that Matthew assigns the Jedi is actually something they fit the definition of. Imagine that.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Okay so remember in like episode 4 when Mon Mothma has a talk with Luthen in the back of the museum-shop and she told him "Don't lecture me on vulnerability. No one is more at risk than I am. You think I haven't thought this through? I'd be the first one to fall."

And remember how in episode 5, Mon Mothma was planning and trying to reorganise a party while Cassian and the team were planning and trying to reorganise a heist against the Empire?

And remember how in episode 6, Taramyn and Gorn and Nemik died, and Cassian had to run away again, and everything was heavy and painful for these people who fought first line?

And remember how in episode 7, Luthen sent Vel to kill Cassian but Cassian was assaulted by a sandtrooper then a protocol droid then arrested and incarcerated without trial, while Mon Mothma was at a party in the comfort of her house, whispering about money and secret rebellions to her friend with a smile on her face and an expensive dress on her back?

And how in episode 8, while Cassian was imprisoned, physically tortured by an electrifying/ paralysing device, working 12h shifts day after day, eating liquid tasteless food through a tube and forced to take a "shower" at the same time as all the other naked prisoners; and while Paak was being brutally arrested and tortured for information; and while Bix was also being arrested and about to be tortured for information; Mon Mothma was at a party in the comfort of her home, an expensive dress on her back, her hair neatly brushed, sharing a drink and smiles with Empire enthousiasts and political enemies? People she seemed to despise a few episodes prior?

Remember?

[kanansdume]

What if they'd honed in more in this show on Ahsoka's feelings of guilt over having left Anakin and the fact that she was basically suicidal by the end of the fight with Anakin and THAT'S what leads to "choose to live"?

Because "choose to live" has really zero connection to the issue they're presenting in the flashbacks of Ahsoka being worried she might end up like Anakin or can only ever train a Padawan with death and destruction which might lead them to end up like Anakin. The issue isn't whether Ahsoka wants to live or not.

But Ahsoka in Rebels is so fucked up by the revelation of Anakin's identity that she effectively lies to herself for a year until she CAN'T anymore and her immediate reaction to that is to decide she'd rather die with Anakin or at his hand than have to live with the guilt of having left him again. And she has no real hope of SAVING him anymore on Malachor, she's just so motivated by guilt that she'd rather die because of him than the alternative. Her attachment to him makes her practically suicidal and then Ezra swoops in and saves her at the last second and by the time she makes it back to Malachor, Anakin appears to be gone, and then he dies several years later and she isn't there.

So maybe if they'd focused more on THAT issue, on Ahsoka sort-of wishing she'd died on Malachor and maybe even the feelings of resentment she might hold towards Ezra for being the person who saved her, it could've connected better both to the "choose to live" line and to the Rebels plotline. Maybe THAT'S what the issue between Sabine and Ahsoka is, that Sabine found out that Ahsoka resents Ezra for saving her and the resulting argument broke them apart back when they FIRST went out searching for Ezra. And when Ahsoka hits the water on Seatos, she COULD swim out, she COULD save herself, but she's choosing not to because she feels like this is just fixing the timeline. She should've died years ago, either on Malachor or during Order 66, and she keeps escaping it while everyone around her that she loves keeps dying. So now time has just finally caught up with her to correct that mistake.

I LIKE the issue they chose for the flashbacks, her worry about becoming like Anakin or an inability to train a Padawan because her part of the legacy is death and destruction both from being Anakin's Padawan and from the war itself, but it doesn't connect at all to anything in the Rebels side of the story nor does it connect to their "choose to live" one-liner. And focusing on the guilt also CONTINUES the storyline she had in Rebels as opposed to starting a whole new one.

[edgirlblog]

Remember, if you're fasting and you know you have to break it later, don't break it now, stay pretty as ling as you can. Skinny girls are pretty

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Once in a while I think back to the stuff I watched when I was like, fourteen, and recently remembered the absolute atrocity that was Once Upon A Time, like what the fuck do you mean multiple characters raped people and then were portrayed as "good and redeemable" without ever having shown remorse or regret or even having apologized like what the fuck!!

[jiraisupportgroup]

Hi, there. I'm a 22-year-old Jirai Kei lifestyler who just started being a part of the subculture. I normally wear Menhera style Subcul and Dark Girly for my style of clothing. I have a particular question I want answered. I know that Jirai is about the lifestyle and not much about the clothes, but I have certain beef with people who think that only "real landmines" wear girly kei and that Jirai Kei promotes dangerous self-destructive behaviors, which I have dubbed "the girly kei police". So my question is this: can somebody who is wearing yami kawaii most of the time and also mentally ill, but not suffering from an eating disorder, still be apart of the subculture? Thank you so much for your help.

I'm pretty relaxed about it & I'm also not an expert or like spokesperson for Jirai Kei but in my opinion:

No you do not have to have an eating disorder to be part of the Jirai Kei community.

I think a lot of people don't realize the difference between promoting self-destructive behaviours vs having a space to talk about them without judgement. When you're dealing with stuff like that it is important to have a space where you can talk about it without fear of being ridiculed or having someone called on you. It's even harder to deal with those things when you're demonized for the feelings that you have and treated like you're a monster or an awful person ykwim? (I think that was kind of besides the point)

But you don't have to have any specific issue to be part of the Jirai Kei community. I've seen questions like "do I have to SH" "do I have to have an ED" "do I have to do SW" and the answer is always no. You do not have to do those things! The one thing I will say is you should be aware that there is a lot of discussion and imagery of those things in the community, and be generally understanding or prepared for that. I personally have a lot of ed tags filtered because I don't want to try to talk down to or take away spaces for people to talk about or vent about those things, but I don't want to see it. So I just like block it and let them have their space and I can have mine, you know? (As long as they're not actively hurting/bullying anyone - that's where I personally draw the line).

Jirai Kei is a community for people who know what it's like to be in a dark place. Everyone is at different stages, from not being ready to recover, all the way to having been in recovery for years, and everyone's struggles are different. The specific struggles themselves are not what makes someone Jirai Kei, we all just love cute stuff and we're mentally struggling that's kind of our main connector.

In my opinion, if you find peace or relatability in the community, come hang out with us!

[songba1rd]

sad this morning bc i'm thinking about the parallels between lucy gray and tigris

[waywardsou2]

╔═*.·:·.✧ Mars Elsher ✧.·:·.*═╗

(Art Coming Soon)

General Info

Mars is a human Padawan that is 16 years old. He has light brown hair that is messy and often tied up. His Padawan braid is short as it was recently cut off by the enemy during a battle. His eyes are blue. He wears a shirt and shorts combo with a green over coat that is shorter than the traditional cloak but very similar. He comes from Ord Mantel

He is trans and queer

He sees his Master and the Squad as his family, he doesn’t hide or mask his attachment as well as his Master but he can’t help it. He’s never had this before.

Backstory and Events

Mars was born on Ord Mantel but abandoned when the Jedi first informed his parents about his Force sensitivity. His parents were told when he was 4 and then found/collected by the Jedi at 13 and taken in as a youngling to become a Padawan. He trained very dutifully but often struggled. He was taught by Master Yoda until he graduated and became the Padawan to Master Kuiper. He learnt much under Master Kuiper but wasn’t blind to his Master's relationship with the rest of the Jedi order. He is glad that his Master cares for him but worried that his Master will be sanctioned if he is found to be breaking the rules of the Jedi code. Mars is extremely close and attached to his battalion and often throws himself into the front lines to keep them safe. Often to his detriment. His light saber is white – this is due to his time in the dark side when his family abandoned him and his ability to thrive on afterwards.

Mars lived on the streets for a while he was abandoned at the age of 6 when he started asking his parents about becoming a Jedi, they believed that they could simply ignore it and hide when the Jedi came looking for him. But his curiosity grew and he started talking about it every day. That’s when they had had enough. The took him into the city centre of Ord Mantel and left. He got lost and never found them again, until the Jedi came to get him he was on his own, he scavenged, lived in abandoned buildings, stole, lied, gambled. Anything he needed to do to survive, he also used to help people, return their stolen belonging, help lost children get home... but one day someone was attacking an unarmed person in the street. Half the victims clothes had been torn off and Mars knew what was going to happen. So he stepped in, shoved the victim away, gave them his coat and they ran off. He was prepared to fight but the attacker was stronger than he originally thought and quickly overpowered him. Seemed to attacker it didn’t matter the victim. That night Mars was left in the cold side street. His clothes torn to shreds, a scar on his chest and several bruises were left behind. That night he couldn’t move, he was so sore and tired so he stayed on the ground and hoped that he would simply pass on from the cold. But the person he had saved from the attacker initially came back. They gave him back his coat. Helped him to his feet and took him home. He learnt that her name was Elina. And after that, she took him in. She became his best friend and almost like his big sister, she took care of him and he begun to strive for a better life, still waiting for the day the Jedi would come for him. He was 11 at the time. But after this event his life had darkened and he began to slip. Now he always carried a weapon on him looked for any signs of the horrible person from that night. He would not hesitate. All it would take was a good glance. And Mars would end him then and there.

Mars is trans, his dead name is Meila, not only was his curiosity towards the Jedi what drove his parents away but his coming out as being a boy. When he joined the Jedi he told them of this. If Elina had accepted him why wouldn’t the Jedi and lucky they did. Master Kuiper was so accepting and helped him whenever he needed. Even organised for the Kaminoans to perform his top surgery!

[mutatiio]

witnessed someone complaining that t.cw ruined maul bc he talks more. and they asked if people could imagine t.pm maul talking as much as t.cw/rebels maul. and like?? no. obviously. t.pm maul didn't speak bc he was made to feel like anything he said didn't matter. he was abused for his whole life. his only worth was being an attack dog for sidious. and then boom (kenobi)!! he's on lotho minor for 12~ years, is off sidious' leash and is finding his own worth. he's out of the abusive situation (still suffers bc if it) but i think the least he should be allowed to do is fucking talk. he's been quiet for so long,, let my man ramble as much as he wants.

[your-assigned-medical-droid]

“Vanilla is likely safe when taken by mouth in amounts commonly found in foods. However, some people are allergic to vanilla. It might also cause headache and sleep problems (insomnia), especially for people who manufacture vanilla extract”

“Ingestion of vanilla extract is treated similarly to alcohol intoxication and can cause alcohol poisoning. The ethanol will cause central nervous system depression, which may lead to breathing difficulties. Intoxication can cause pupil dilation, flushed skin, digestion issues, and hypothermia” -Chris Thomas, Wayne County Mental Health Department

Please stop eating so much vanilla extract. I am growing concerned.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Narkina 5

Okay. I have a lot to say about Narkina 5 and the prison.

So first thing first. Back to ep7 were Cassian has been very unfairly assaulted by a sandtrooper, then violently assaulted by a droid, then arrested and "put on trial" where really, no jury, not lawyer, not even a moment to justify himself or try to clear the misunderstanding. Only a judge and executioner. The whole scene was so unfair and violent; I hated the way the sandtrooper made it sound like Cassian was being aggressive and angry when really Cassian was keeping his calm and trying to explain with a calm tone that he was just a tourist.

This scene was important, because it only get worse after that. That arrest scene was a glimpse of how far police brutality can go. It was made clear in a previous episode that Cassian hates to be grabbed by the arm or touch without consent, and episode 8 really explained why. The sandtroopers then the prison guards were all firmly grabbing, pushing, and being physically violent toward Cassian and the other prisoners (lot of which were men of colour, like. At least ⅔ of them. And almost all the guards are white. Didn't go unnoticed.)

--

The fact that we as viewers don't know shit about what's going on, the same way Cassian doesn't know, that was a smart thing to do. It really adds to the chock of the brutality unfolding as each minute goes by.

The whole "take your shoes off" thing was unsettling; first it's dehumanising to force them to be barefoot, and it's worse to see the guards walk with these thick boots, like you know something bad is a out to happen and you dread what it will be (did you notice that the first shot of the guards is like. Down to up so the firsh thing you see are the boots? Very smart)

I assume the "roaster" is like. A very powerful electric device. Which would explain the paralysis/ distortion of their bodies + why they say it "roasts" you. It made me think of the electric chair, and not to say there are a lot of parallels with US prisons, but there are a lot of parallels with US prisons.

--

Now here comes the second part: forced labor.

I knew i would write a post about it, and I thought "I could say it's pushed to the extreme but no. It's just capitalism. We already reached that extreme."

12h shifts, everyday, nonstop. Setting it up as a "game", a "competition" where you get an award if you are the most productive of them all, and a punishment if you fall "last" on the productivity podium. Creating an environment that puts you under so much pressure, so much stress to win the game, to be the best, to always push your limits; an environment where everything is hostile enough to keep you alert at all time, where things are just comfortable enough that it feels wrong to complain compared to what you could have had, where fellow prisoners/ workers become your enemy instead of the people who put you in the system in the first place.

--

Because the guards are not armed - except for their electric sticks and their little remote. One push of a button and everyone is distorted and crying in pain. No need for more when you hold an entire prison at your mercy, thanks to a simple button.

The white decoration is just. It's bland. It's soulless. It's cold and honestly hostile. You don't feel safe or welcomed. All you have is the orange stripe that tells you you're a prisoner, the black outfits that lurk all around, keeping an eye on you, and the red dots on the floor. And the red dots mean pain.

The environment is hostile enough to keep you alert and unsafe, but comfortable enough for you not to complain: hey, the food is tasteless and liquid and you eat it through a tube; but at least it's unlimited and you have food. Hey, your box is open and small and you have to pee in public and you have no intimacy; but at least you have a bed of your own and a mattress and it's cleaned everyday. They even allow you to have a little light for the night. Hey, your shower is also public and you are completely naked round everyone else and it's just warm fog spread over you; but at least the fog is warm and you can feel somehow cleaner than before. It's better than nothing at all.

--

This is a system in which people are purposefully put in enough comfort to feel like it's not worth fighting to leave it. The Devil you know and all that. And it's a very dehumanising system. You have no intimacy, you have no hobby, you have nothing for yourself, nothing but a box and a table to work at. Your only purpose is to stay on top of the list, and to aim for the win. And after a while, winning becomes the only thing that matters.

I mean. A man commits suicide and the only thing everyone around say is "it going to stinks all night" - "he really had to do it here? If you do it here, I don't regret you" and "we're going to lose our spot on the list! We don't care how he felt, we're going to lose!"

It's terrifying to see and hear as an outsider of the system, but when you are in. What do you think of it when you are in? What do you do with what you are given? Cassian's lack of reaction says it all: you can't do anything. You can try to fight your way out, and die. You can give up, and die. You can try to hold on and remain on top and pray you finally get the award - until you die.

You have no choice, you can't have any, when the only options are to die or to survive. None of them are fair, the way they are presented to you make them unfair and horrible. Either way you will suffer, either way you will lose. Victory is temporary, victory is faint and minimal.

At the end of the day, the only winners at the people in black outfits holding the remote.

And I think this idea, this idea of illusion of choice, of picking the solution that keeps you alive rather than the solution that is morally right or ethical or righteous, it's really the core of Andor and later Rogue One. Sometimes good people are thrown in a system they have nothing to do in, it's unfair, it's brutal, unjustified, wrong, horribly wrong. And when you are outside of the system, it's easy to say it. It's easy to point it out and call these people heartless for ignoring the death of a person, for competing so hard, for focusing only on their well-being and for trying to survive using means that are wrong or violent. But this episode really brings in a new perspective: you see why these people act the way they do. You see them being brutalised, and hurts and constantly in danger, and stripped away from their belongings and from their identity and from who they are as individuals. You see the guards being violents, you see the psychological and physical abuse, and you see that there is no ethical choice. It's just surviving or not.

[edgirlblog]

February 14th, 2024

Day 24 and 25

I am not pro ana nor pro mia, I use the tags sometimes to make my posts reach out more but again, I am not pro Ed at all.

I have purged many times, I was severely bullim1c for years.

The first time I ever made my self throw up qas on accident and it was I chugged 3 bottles of water too fast and it could digest so I felt so full and bloated and I felt like I was gonna puke. I initially didn't but I like spit on my floor so I was like fuck it and stuck my fingers down my throat till I puked enough.

[letsquestjess]

Blood Daughter - Chapter 1: Beacon

Story Summary: After Kallar Viren flees the Empire, his daughter sets out to find him, only to discover he has been taken by Imperials. With help from Clone Force 99, Zeraphine pushes through her losses in a race against the clock to rescue her father or face the galaxy as the last of her family.

Warnings: Mention of blood and injury.

A/N: Happy May the Fourth everyone! I'm so excited to finally be able to introduce Zeraphine and Amelina (and some oc clones later on in the story)! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

Chapter 2

-- -- -- -- --

Warning alarms howled their persistent cry, rising and falling in a series of undulating screeches. Emergency lights span in their casings and bathed the interior in a deathly crimson glow. 

A flood of smoke burst from the pipes and Zeraphine lifted her jacket collar over her mouth and nose, suppressing a cough at the acrid stench of fuel reserves and maintenance oil. “Secondary engine is completely shot,” she choked as she careened into the cockpit. “There’s some juice left in the emergency generator, but I don’t know if it’s enough to get us out of this.” 

“Only one way to find out,” Amelina sighed, her arm slung around her waist and the other gripping the steering controls. In a manoeuvre that would have made even the most expert of pilots nauseous, she jerked the wheel sideways and spiralled them out of a surge of turret fire.

Imperial ships shrieked behind them, hunting with unstoppable fervour. Every ruse to evade them failed until, with absolute reckless abandon, she threw caution to the cruelty of space and alternated between intense turns and dizzying loops. Mostly, they allowed her to dodge the projectiles, but it wasn’t enough to escape the enemy crafts. 

The radar lit up with at least half a dozen emergency dots, each fresh scan chiming until she silenced them with a quick slam of her fist. “Reckon you could get a warning beacon ready?” she asked, peering up at her sister hunched over the console and gawking at the approaching asteroid field. “I should be able to keep us steady for a minute.” 

Zeraphine dragged herself from the worrying view outside and tottered through the violent trembles to cling to the control panel behind her. She plucked a beacon from the overhead unit and inserted it into the launch tube. Once the system registered the device, she started the recording. “This is Zeraphine Viren of light craft AV-1836-2,” she spoke clearly, ignoring the tremor of her heart and the erratic shudder of the ship. “Do not enter the sector. Heavy Imperial presence. I repeat, heavy Imperial presence. Stay away from the sector.” 

She ended the broadcast and linked it to the beacon, tapping her foot against the grated flooring as though it would hurry the process along. “Ready for launch.” 

“Hold on,” Amelina instructed, her free hand flitting back and forth between the switches above her and the control wheel. “Just a little longer…” 

The readings bounced, and trying to grunt away the searing pain flaring up her left hip, she input the codes to shield the beacon frequency. The line flattened and the tiny device rocketed from the tube. 

Zeraphine hopped back into the co-pilot seat to track its trajectory. After a tense minute, it attached itself to the underside of a revolving asteroid and confirmed an active signal. “It’s in place. Have the Imperials picked it up?” 

“Don’t think so. They flew straight past.” 

“At least it will keep any wandering rebels safe.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if a few ignored it,” Amelina said with a snort. “You know what some of them are like.”

“Brave?” 

“I was going to say far too foolhardy for their own good, but brave works as well.” 

Rivers of smoke poured from the rear of the ship and triggered a second set of alarms. Zeraphine shot up and slammed the fire suppression button on the emergency panel by the exit ramp. Several jets of extinguishing fluid sprayed from the ceiling and soothed the flickers enough for her to get a better look at the protesting machine. “What are the readings for the communications unit?” she called. 

“About as much use as a dismantled droid.” 

Grumbling to herself, Zeraphine carefully inched her hand into the crumpled hatch, recoiling at the sparks and pinching the casing of the snipped cable. Adding in a set of clamps, she locked it in place and steadied her arm against another sickening jolt. 

As she wrenched the tool, a hissing torrent of steam engulfed her forearm and etched a path of painful burns up past her elbow.

“Leave it,” Amelina told her, casting a concerned glance over her shoulder as her sister rashly worked to repair the dying craft. “You’re only going to hurt yourself even more.”

“If we don’t get the communications unit back online, how will we call for help?” 

Amelina didn’t have the heart to tell her there was little chance of help. Sweat trickled down her temples, clinging to her short midnight strands, and she gasped with each laboured breath. The ship was becoming increasingly difficult to control, and even if she managed to land it without killing them both, the Imperials would be on them quicker than they could blink. With her injury added to the mix, their odds of survival decreased even more.

“Lina?” 

Her eyes shot open and adrenaline pumped an excruciating awareness through her veins. She squinted down at Zeraphine knelt beside her, slowly uncurling the clenched fingers compressing the bloodied bandages. Layer by layer, her sister removed them and winced at the deep gash opening up the left side of her abdomen. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Amelina said. 

“Tell that to your face,” Zeraphine quipped, grabbing the first aid box from the console storage compartment and staring at the meagre contents. “We’re out of bacta pads, but there are some wipes and fresh gauzes.” 

“I’m sure once we’re away from the Imperials we can pick up some more,” Amelina laughed. Her amusement evaporated when she caught the anxious expression on her younger sister’s features, and a hiss whistled through her teeth at the cold wipe pressed against her side. “You could have warned me before you did that.”

“Stop squirming, and I’ll get this done quicker,” Zeraphine said. As she cleared the crusted patches of blood, she spotted prickled blotches and forked paths creeping from the cut and into healthy tissue. She pressed the back of her fingers to it. “Are you feverish?” 

“Huh?” 

“Do you have a fever?” 

“What are you talking about?” Amelina panted. “No, I’m fine. Why?” 

“There are signs of infection in your wound.” 

Amelina paused. Another direct hit rocked the ship, but she didn’t feel it. “Zera, we are crash landing,” she said sternly, her previous light-hearted tone gone. “There is no time to be tending to my injuries.”

“There is always time,” Zeraphine insisted. “Now hold still.”

* * *

“I told you this wasn’t the right route,” Crosshair said, folding his arms and glowering at his brother. 

“We’re not heading the wrong way,” Hunter insisted. “The navigation computer reported this part of the system was empty.” 

“And I told you it wasn’t, yet here we are facing an asteroid field.” To prove his point, Crosshair swept a flat palm towards the floating specks in their path. He rolled his toothpick to the other side of his mouth before removing it, inspecting the blunted end and flicking it into the recycling unit. 

At the console behind the cockpit, Echo analysed the stream of data from outside the Marauder. The band of asteroids spanned hundreds of klicks, forming an almost impenetrable barrier between them and their onward destination. “Don’t know why it wasn’t registering before, but the system is pretty clear now. They’re not too densely packed, so there might be a way through.”

“I am running the estimations,” Tech called from the pilot seat. 

“Negative,” Hunter said. “I’m not chancing it.”

“Any other bright ideas?” Crosshair challenged, staring pointedly at the Batch’s leader. 

Hunter returned the glare, daring him to make another biting comment. In the silence, he mulled over alternative options. The navigation system had been struggling for some time, but it had never been this incorrect and they’d managed to compensate for small discrepancies in the past. But now it had brought them to a rocky belt and more disagreements. 

“Fine,” he huffed, begrudgingly accepting that he shouldn’t have delayed the repairs and allowed his over-cautious worries of remaining stationary for too long to fog his judgement. “I’ll admit that on this occasion, Crosshair, you were right. Still doesn’t get us out of this mess.” 

“It may be possible to double back,” Tech suggested, assessing the information filtering across his datapad and running a scan for alternate routes. “Unfortunately, this will mean missing the designated pickup time for the supplies.” 

As the others directed the blame at anyone other than themselves, Echo continued his examination of Tech’s proposed solutions. He explored the sector a few klicks away, and the transmission radar let out three successive beeps. The connecting light fluttered. “Got an incoming signal from the asteroid field. Patching it through, Tech.” 

The Batch abandoned their dispute and stayed quiet long enough to appease their curiosity. They all crowded into the cockpit and watched the receiver process the transmission. Turret fire infused the background of the audio as it hissed through the speakers. 

“This is Zeraphine Viren of light craft AV-1836-2. Do not enter the sector. Heavy Imperial presence. I repeat, heavy Imperial presence. Stay away from the sector.” The recording replayed, and Tech muted the broadcast. 

“Doesn’t seem like there are any Imperials anymore,” Echo said, breaking the tense lull. 

“Zeraphine Viren?” Wrecker mused. “As in Commander Zeraphine?” 

“The beacon was launched from a light craft registered to Amelina Viren,” Tech replied, already working on pinpointing any remnant signals and frequencies. “It would be appropriate to presume the woman in the recording is Commander Zeraphine.” 

“But what was she doing all the way out here?” Echo asked. 

“Getting shot at, by the sounds of it,” Crosshair answered. He slanted discreetly to catch the information appearing on Tech’s datapad.

“I don’t understand,” Omega said, the crease between her eyebrows growing as she listened. “Who is Commander Zeraphine?” 

Hunter shuffled his weight to the edge of the seat and rested his elbows on his thighs. “She worked with clone intelligence during the war and joined us on a few missions. We knew her squad well.”

“They were the nice regs,” Wrecker chortled. “Always up for a laugh.”

“Her older sister, Amelina, aided our tacticians,” Hunter continued, trying to clear his mind of the mischief Wrecker and Zeraphine’s small unit had caused when they’d shared shore leave on Kamino. 

“So they were Jedi?” Omega ventured, recalling what her brothers had told her of the war. 

“Not exactly. But they were both skilled in their field and did a lot to help.” 

“According to the ship’s logs, both sisters were on board. They made landfall on a nearby planet called Ciraden,” Tech reported. His eyes narrowed as he studied the charts. “Their signal cut out three rotations ago, but I have managed to determine the coordinates of the craft.” 

Pushing his hip from the side of Tech’s chair, Crosshair took in the data illuminating several screens on the console. “How likely is it they survived?”

“Admittedly, the chance is slim,” Tech responded. “There are no outgoing frequencies to alert potential rescuers of their survival, but there could be many reasons for that. One being that they did not survive the crash.” 

“Imperials on their tail being another,” Echo said from the navi-computer. “There’s no sign of the Empire. At least nothing coming up on the radar.” 

The ship fell into a solemn silence. Similar anxieties troubled each of them, crowding the nostalgic stillness with a sense of duty and friendship. 

“As long as we’re all in agreement,” Hunter sighed, “and providing there is a safe route through this asteroid field, we should at least check for survivors and recover what we can.”

One after the other, his brothers offered their approval, and a sombre quiet descended at the prospect of potentially having to bury more friends. Hunter felt the same. Zeraphine and Amelina had shown them a care and solidarity they’d all cherished during the conflict. But if they had fallen, they deserved to be laid to rest and remembered. He’d lost too many who couldn’t be afforded their final farewells. 

“Perhaps someone should stay behind with Omega,” Echo suggested quietly as Hunter exited the cockpit and settled beside him at the navigation computer. “Stars above only know what we may find, and it could be frightening for her.” 

“She won’t want to remain here,” Hunter said, “but we’ll make sure at least one of us can scout ahead of her.” 

Echo patted his arm. “I get you’re worried, but the commanders both endured worse.”

“This is the Empire we’re talking about,” Hunter whispered, as though invoking their name would summon them. “If they survived the crash, it’s highly likely they were pursued.” He breathed out slowly and massaged underneath his bandana to relieve the tension in his forehead. “It might be best we take some blankets and bindings. Should we find bodies, they deserve a decent funeral.”