The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[Striges]

Many apologies, but my schedule tomorrow is crazy so rather than post very late, I’m posting the weekly prompt tonight.

 

Week of May 29, 2015

Lost and Found--Characters lose things: keys, rings, treasures, friends, their way. They find things too: rings (again), companions, their courage. This week, write about what your character has lost, or what they found. Or both.

 

And, as ever,

 

Night of the Living Prompt: Keep on using any prompt you like! Check out the list at http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=7489974post=2 and http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=7489991post=3 (we’re up to two full posts!). Many thanks to Alaurin for maintaining the prompt archive and story index here.

 

 

This week's featured NotLP:

Irresistible Urges - Cravings can happen for lots of reasons: addiction, pregnancy, a reminder of a favorite creature comfort, or it just being 2 AM right after all the takeout places have closed. What can’t your character do without? Write about a time when cravings struck. Suggested by @irishfino, iirc.

[frauzet]

Comments:

 

@JamagsAwesome:

Vincing the Invincible: When even Guss think's it's a stupid plan... You had me grinning there from the start.

I Swear It’ll Work: I like the way Kenn talks about the Sith. They just didn't have a chance.

Shades of Green: It seems to me Ja-mags will have to work on the 'no emotion' part. Looking forward to see him proceed.

Past and Future: I always loved to see the photo of my great-grandfather from somewhere around 1915. Having a holo of an ancestor several generations back must be awesome.

Measurements: Now I imagine him pulling the throne out of the fortress all by himself

My Name: I never before thought about the similarity between the two classes regarding the receiving of a new name. Nicely done.

 

@nervousheroA:

Failure: That was really sad. Nicely done.

 

@Mirdthestrill:

Reassigned: Sound reasoning for being underdressed at the start of the storyline. And sound advice, the one about the candy, too It's always nice to see an intact family.

 

@Feldraeth:

Reaching the General: That was an interesting way to open this door. I like how Mako observes the fighting styles of her companions, and has pity on the enemy. With the amount of mobs the game throws at us it's sometimes hard not to forget they'd be real people to fight in our fic-universes.

 

 

 

This short drabble didn't make it in time for last week's prompt.

 

Title: Priorities

Prompt: You Can’t Always Get What You Want

Class: BH (Thorns), -- (Livida)

Words - ~260

Spoilers - none

Takes place on Tatooine, after this one

 

 

Thorns handed Liv the kitchen towel back. “Thank you for the evening. I’d better get cracking. My cave’s a good way off.”

 

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. She leaned back against the worktop. “You don’t want a reward for the best stew along the Chrystal Passage?”

 

“We both held up our ends of the deal. If you enjoyed our talk as much as I did, we’re even.” He rubbed his neck. They both knew he wanted to stay. But he wanted more than a one-night stand. “I don’t have a kitchen. I’d be foolish to chuck away the chance to repeat this.”

 

She cocked her head, raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What if I want a dessert?”

 

“Tsk,” Thorns shook his head with an impish smile. “Nobody ever told you, you can’t have everything?”

 

She tapped her pursed lips with one forefinger and looked sideways as if trying to remember, the exaggerated eye movement recognizable despite her pupilless red eyes. “Nope!” she said after a while. Then she grinned. “At least nobody who didn’t regret it.”

 

Thorns shrugged. “Guess I am your first then.”

 

“You’re pretty confident. I like that. How good are you with those blasters?”

 

“Let’s take a walk to the outskirts. There’s a bounty on womp rat tails. Whoever collects most in, say, an hour, pays the drinks for the rest of the night.”

 

“You sure you can afford to get me sloshed?”

 

“I won’t be the one paying.” Grinning he turned towards the door. “You coming?”

 

 

 

Note

 

Livida is my first PT, she's the BH in my AU with scary Thorns.

 

[Adwynyth]

EDIT: Hi all! Just kinda passing through, but I figured I'd leave this here.

 

Prompt: Lost and Found

Characters: Adwynyth, Vette, Quinn, Jaesa, and Pierce

Timeline: Ch. 2, Sometime during Quesh

Spoilers: Nothing really (identity of a contact on Quesh)

 

The distinct sound of carnage issued forth from the quarters of the galaxy's most capricious Sith. Vette, Pierce, and Jaesa barely looked up from playing sabacc. Carnage was pretty much standard operating procedure on this ship, and short of explosions or droids offering foot massages, there wasn't much that would draw more than token attention.

 

"Do you think she's winning?" Vette asked.

 

"When isn't she winning?" cracked Pierce, laying down his hand to groans from the others. "Gimme."

 

While he raked in the pile, Jaesa glanced toward her master's quarters. "Winning at what?" She was still a little naive in matters of...well...things that made a Sith's quarters go "bump".

 

Vette guffawed. "What do you think? What else is usually happening when that kinda noise happens?" She lasciviously made a hole with her thumb and forefinger and pointed aggressively at it with the other hand. Pierce huffed in amusement as he finished collecting his winnings and started shuffling the cards again.

 

Jaesa's eyes widened. "Ohhhh...do you think that's what they're doing?"

 

"What who is doing, Miss Jaesa?" said Quinn as he strolled in from the medbay. All three jumped slightly, assuming the captain to have been the other occupant of their boss' bedroom.

 

"What? How? You..." Vette pointed back and forth between the Sith's quarters and Quinn.

 

"I see you've retained your usual level of fluency in Basic." Vette stuck out her tongue in response.

 

Pierce piped up. "Well, if you're not in there with her, mate--"

 

"Lieutenant, you will use a proper form of address when speaking to me." Quinn snapped.

 

"Well, if you're not in there with her, pipsqueak, who is?"

 

Quinn was about to dress down Pierce further when the door to Adwynyth's quarters flew open, slamming against the wall. "Which one of you was it?"

 

"Which one of us was what, master?" Jaesa asked innocently.

 

"I was saving a bottle of Hutt tequila for today's Huttball match, so when the Frogdogs lose, I could go on a proper drunken bender and rant and rave at the holo as befits a Sith of my stature and level of inebriation. I'd been saving it since YESTERDAY!"

 

Pierce couldn't resist. "Yesterday, m'lord?" Quinn slipped into parade rest.

 

"Well, I drank the other five. Around here, I need it just to get through the day. Malavai?"

 

The captain stiffened to attention. "My lord?"

 

"I want a thorough search of this ship, from fore to...whatever you call the back. I want that bottle found. Full." She emphasized the last word while staring straight at Vette. "No Twi'lek logic this time."

 

Vette just stared back, mock-innocently. "Hey, last time this happened, I just figured you'd want it quicker, and empty bottles are lighter and easier to carry."

 

"Yeah, especially when you can't walk a straight line anymore," Adwynyth retorted.

 

Quinn, ever the bureaucrat, relished this opportunity to do something organized. Ever the weasel, he also relished the opportunity to turn up dirt on his fellow crewmembers. "Right away, my lord. Allow me to fetch my clipboard..."

 

As he wandered off to search for the bane of everyone else's existence, Vette called after him. "Hey, Quinny, speaking of missing things, I can't find my lucky headdress!"

 

Jaesa looked at the Twi'lek. "I thought you looked different. That is a different one, isn't it? The lines--"

 

Adwynyth cleared her throat for emphasis. "I'm not getting any drunker here, people. Move it! Quinn, what's taking so long?"

 

The Imperial emerged from his medbay, looking for all the world like he'd lost a friend. Never mind that he'd likely never had one, it was so out of character that everyone stopped. Pierce simply couldn't help himself. "What's wrong, Captain?"

 

"My clipboard...it's gone. I--" He looked as if he was about to burst into tears. In an uncharacteristic show of camaraderie, Pierce stood up and went over, patting the smaller man's shoulders. "There there, mate, have a swig of--" He hunted through his pockets, unable to find the flask he usually kept for emergencies: fashion shows, bored Sith, and any sort of lecture by Quinn. "Awright, you lot, who took my emergency hooch?"

 

A dark-skinned balding man in uniform fairly stomped in from the cockpit. "Seriously? I ask for the Empire's best, and I get you? And you're this clueless?" He strode over to Jaesa. "She hasn't even noticed that I walked right up to her and stole her saberstaff!" He turned to Vette. "And you, you opened the door and let me on the ship! You didn't even ask who I was!"

 

While Jaesa blushed furiously, Vette meekly offered, "Well, it was early, and I don't do early."

 

"And not a single alarm on the ship when vital systems are touched, doors to quarters sliced, communications accessed without authorization?"

 

Adwynyth stomped over to him. "The damn alarm kept going off for no reason."

 

Quinn cleared his throat discreetly. "Yes, um...you see, the ship shakes whenever we, um...well..."

 

The Sith had heard quite enough. "SEX! It's called SEX! You can say the word, can't you?!" She whirled back to their accuser. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

 

"Moff Dracen!" The look of utter incomprehension on Adwynyth's face spoke volumes. "Really? A prominent SIth doesn't know the man who's basically in charge of the entire Imperial presence on a planet?" He tossed the missing items on the lounge-area table. "I'm utterly disgusted with the lot of you. I'll be calling Darth Baras shortly." He strode out, looking for all the world every bit as imperious and humorless as Quinn on his best day.

 

Adwynyth looked at the table. "Wait, where's my tequila?"

 

---

 

Ten minutes later, Dracen returned to his office to find his staff just tuning into the Huttball match.

 

"Ah, sir, you're just in time. Was it really worth all that just for a bottle of tequila?"

 

"Well, the Frogdogs are certainly going to lose."

Edited May 29, 2015 by Adwynyth

[nervousheroA]

Here's mine for Lost and Found, featuring both Giselle and Sierra again. Both Warrior and Agent spoilers once again. This one is much longer, and I PROMISE THIS ONE ENDS ON A POSITIVE NOTE THIS TIME. Sort of.

 

With 2357 words, this is The Last Ones:

 

 

She slept for almost 14 hours straight. It was the best 14 hours of her life.

 

She had defeated Ardun Kothe on Quesh, prevented the release of the Shadow Arsenal. And now, she was bloody tired.

 

Rising from her bed slowly, she heard the loud beeping of the holo-terminal in the ship, signaling an arriving holocall.

 

“We will answer it, Agent,” replied Vector. “You really should return to resting.”

 

Sierra shook her head.

 

“Honestly, just that much sleep makes me feel incredible. I’ll take care of it.”

 

Gathering her things from the desk next to her, the Cipher agent made her way to the bridge, trying to flatten her bright red hair the best she could. When she arrived at the terminal, Keeper’s image appeared.

 

“Secure transmission established,” she recited. “I’m sorry for cutting your recuperation so short, Cipher, but something has come up.”

 

The agent sighed knowingly.

 

“You wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” she said. “What’s the situation?”

 

“We have a transmission for you,” Keeper explained. “He wanted to contact you as soon as possible. Standby while I transfer you.”

 

The image of the woman flickered away, replaced by a heavy-set man in bright, metal armor, complete with his mask.

 

“Is this the one they call Cipher 9?”

 

“Yes, my lord,” she replied, instantly recognizing the man as Sith. “What is it?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure I like that tone of yours…but I’ll let it slide just this once. I am Darth Baras. Your older sister is my apprentice.”

 

Her face betrayed confusion.

 

“Indeed, my lord, though I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

 

“I understand you are recuperating from a recent assignment for Intelligence. Regardless, I’d like to meet with you in my new chambers on Korriban. As soon as possible.”

 

“What exactly will we be discussing?” she inquired.

 

“You really need to work on your manners, agent. I have the power here. You can find out when you arrive.”

 

She bit her tongue furiously, maintaining her composure.

 

“Of course, my lord. I’ll be on my way immediately.”

 

“That’s much better. I look forward to seeing you in person.”

 

As the transmission ended, Keeper reappeared on the terminal.

 

“I’m sorry, Cipher. I tried to tell him you were recuperating, but he was insistant.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied casually. “I’ll be back on Dromund Kaas as soon as I’m done. We’ll see if you have some spare time.”

 

“I’ll make some if I have to,” she agreed. “It’s good to hear from you again after so long.”

 

 

 

 

 

She had been on Korriban once before, when Zhorrid had summoned her to her new chambers to discuss the investigation of Jadus’s supposed murder. The natural vibe from the planet had freaked her out before, and it still did, to an extent, but much less than before. She had gotten used to darkness. It had taken all of two minutes to explain she was Cipher 9, under orders from the influential Darth Baras, and another three to find his chambers in the Sith Academy. Upon finding him, she was thankful she had decided to leave her companions on the ship. This Sith radiated power simply by looking away from her, and she worried how the others would’ve responded to him, especially Kaliyo.

 

“Ah, good, the Cipher arrives,” he mused, his voice rumbling through the breather in his mask. “I’ve heard about your recent exploits within the SIS. Impressive work, removing that Jedi.”

 

A thousand different nightmares flared back to life in her mind, and she had to quickly shut them out before her reaction became visible. He’s playing with you. Trying to trip you up. Don’t let him.

 

“You honor me, my lord,” she replied, bowing. “Why did you summon me?”

 

“Patience, child. I will explain.” He began pacing back and forth. “As I’m sure you know, the Treaty of Coruscant has been crumbling into dust with each passing day, and war is but an inch away. Once it does, the Republic will bend before us, and the Sith way will prevail.”

 

“Absolutely, lord Baras,” she agreed. “The Empire will prevail.”

 

“Your words sound slightly hollow,” he noted. “Is your loyalty…waning?”

 

Sierra blinked furiously, trying to stay focused.

 

“Sorry, my lord. No, it is not. It’s just been…trying…the past few days.”

 

“Understandable, coming from your position. Just make sure to not forget.”

 

“Of course, my lord.”

 

“Now, I sought to enact a series of victories that would leave the Republic in shambles and unable to retaliate once we strike. My master and I called it Plan Zero. I dispatched my apprentice, your sister, to the corners of the galaxy to achieve this end, and we have succeeded. Now, war is all but certain.”

 

“Certainly, that’s good news.”

 

“Indeed. Afterwards, my master met an untimely death in his chambers, and so I have risen to claim his position here on Korriban and on the Dark Council. To celebrate, I sent your sister to Quesh, hoping to defeat a Republic sabotage attempt.”

 

“Doesn’t quite sound like a great vacation spot, my lord,” she commented.

 

“Not to you, perhaps,” he replied. “But battle and conflict are like air to us Sith, and my apprentice was particularly good at breathing that air.”

 

She didn’t miss his use of the past tense.

 

“Was?” she inquired, confused. “What do you mean?”

 

He hesitated, and that action made her stomach churn violently.

 

“I sent her to the planet to quash the attempt, but I’ll admit, that was four days ago. My scouts report an explosion in one of the abandoned mining facilities, where it was believed the sabotage team was stationed. I can only presume the attempt failed, but I have heard no word from my apprentice.”

 

Every word out of his mouth made her blood freeze just a little colder, made her heart race just a little faster, making his words harder and harder to hear. She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t believe. Something was wrong. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She swallowed, trying to maintain her cool.

 

“Have your scouts investigated?” she inquired. “It’s possible she was trapped or something. Or her communications are just faulty. Quesh has that tendency.”

 

“That’s what I thought as well,” he replied, voice unchanging. “A team was sent out yesterday, but they couldn’t find her or her compatriots. All they managed to find…was this.”

 

She looked down at what was in his hand, and her heart froze for real.

 

One of the marks of being in the Visteus bloodline was the rieve, otherwise known as the emblem of the family. It was usually engraved onto a light red stone, which was placed in an object of the person’s choosing, usually a ring or some other kind of jewelry. Giselle had chosen to wear it on a ring she wore on her left hand, while Sierra had originally wore hers as a necklace, though her introduction into Intelligence and her subsequent additions to her newly-created power suit were forcing her to find other places for it, possibly near the power core. The point, was that it never left the person’s side. Not until death, and even then, it was burned along with the body during the funeral. What she was seeing, in Baras’s hand, was Giselle’s ring.

 

It was a dark gold in color, bright enough to be seen as gold, but dark enough to mix with any color clothing the wearer desired. It wasn’t anything too extravagant, a single, metal band, with the gemstone and emblem on the front of it. Turning it in her hand, she found the engraving inside the band, Giselle’s name written in the ancient Sith language. It wasn’t all-important, but stood out all the same. A perfect metaphor for their heritage.

 

As she studied the ring in her hand, she only faintly recognized her vision burring with quiet tears. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. Nothing in her mind could even attempt to console her. She hadn’t really seen Giselle in two years, had suffered through more than a year’s worth of holocalls, forced to watch but never answer. She hadn’t even been given the opportunity to reply, to apologize for not being there, for…for…

 

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to not cry openly in front of the Sith, her basic training kicking in against her will.

 

“I have put in a commendation within Intelligence,” Baras said quietly. “I have given you a week of leave, under my orders. You have my condolences.”

 

Sierra choked back a sob, trying to take deep breaths to keep her voice as level as possible.

 

“I appreciate it…my lord.” It wasn’t working.

 

“Giselle was a fine Sith,” he explained. “If luck had been in her favor, she would’ve done many more things for the Empire. It is a shame. Now, you are dismissed.”

 

Nodding silently, she swallowed, trying desperately to keep her face level.

 

 

 

 

 

She managed to survive the trek to her ship without bursting into tears. It was only when Kaliyo asked if they should get out of there that she started to crack.

 

“Dromund Kaas,” she replied. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

Everyone who heard her noted the slight squeak in the first bit, and the slight rasp in the second. Thankfully, no one decided to press the matter. Upon landing on the Imperial capital, she gave everyone the day off.

 

“I’ll call when it’s time to come back,” she told them, still clutching her sister’s ring in her left hand. Vector looked at her with worry.

 

“Agent…we sense something wrong. Is everything all right?”

 

Her sorrow crashed into her walls; she fought hard to not outright cry.

 

“I…I really can’t talk about it right now, Vector…” she replied quietly, so much so that he could barely hear her. “I just can’t do this with so many people here…”

 

“Then let us come with you,” he insisted.

 

She paused at his suggestion.

 

“I won’t stop you.”

 

The trip to the facility was completely silent, save for the hum of the traffic around them. Eventually, they reached Intelligence headquarters, and Keeper was there almost immediately to greet them.

 

“Ah, Cipher, it’s good to see you,” she beamed, walking towards her and Vector. “I managed to find a small break in my timetable, so I thought we could—“ She paused, her trained eyes catching her distress.

 

“Cipher? What happened? What’s wrong?”

 

The agent didn’t answer. Instead, she hugged Keeper fiercely, burying her face into her shoulder.

 

It was only then that she let herself cry.

 

 

 

 

 

They had quickly found a small room to the side for the two fo them, Vector remaining behind for a while. Once they were alone, Sierra explained everything Baras had told her.

 

“I’m so sorry, Cipher,” she said quietly.

 

“I mean…” the agent scrambled for the ability to speak, eyes slightly bloodshot. “It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it at some point, you know? She’s Sith, and we both know Sith normally have pretty terrible mortality rates. I just… She was…the only one…I had left…” She clenched the hand that held her sister’s ring, fighting back another wave of tears.

 

As the genetically-enhanced Keeper watched her break down, unable to console her, the intercom went off.

 

“Agent,” Vector said hesitantly, “we hate to interrupt, but there’s something you need to see.”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Not now, Vector…”

 

“Agent, trust us. You’ll want to see this message.”

 

She growled at his insistence.

 

“Fine. Put it through.”

 

The com turned off, and the holo-projector in the room turned on, centering to an image of a familiar-looking Sith.

 

“What the hell? Am I on the answering machine again?! Pick up the damn holo, Sierra!”

 

Her eyes widened bigger than they ever had in her whole life.

 

“G-giselle?” she breathed.

 

“Fine, whatever. I hope to God you’re getting these somehow, through some convoluted scheme through Imperial Intelligence or something. Not that you’d be involved in any of that kind of stuff.”

 

The Sith adjusted her position on the wall she was leaning on, her left leg obviously broken.

 

“Look, it’s apparently been two days, so Baras’s probably found you already, told you I died on Quesh. Despite what my leg tells me, I’m actually alive, but you won’t be for much longer if you stay on Dromund Kaas. He knows everything about you, Sierra. He tried to remove me from the equation because I’m a threat. He’s trying to sell himself as the Voice of the Emperor.”

 

The agent gave the holo-vid a look that was one part confusion, one part amazement, and one part disgust.

 

“I know, I know,” Giselle continued, “total ********. That’s not a job you sign up for, but apparently enough of the Council is going to approve of his maneuver unless I do something about it. I was found by Sith claiming to be the Hand. According to them, the Emperor himself wants Baras removed, so I’ve been named his Wrath, with the one goal of removing Baras before he destroys the Empire.”

 

She turned to look behind her.

 

“Pierce! Quinn! Quit arguing, or I’ll beat you with my good leg this time!”

 

She turned back.

 

“Look, you need to get out of there. We should still have some contacts who remained after everything went down. Get yourself off-world until this gets resolved. Cause let me tell you, when I get to Baras, I’m gonna kick his face in so hard, you won’t even see it anymore.”

 

She seemed to remember something.

 

“Oh yeah. I can’t find my ring, which probably means Baras took it. Probably gave it to you to confirm I was dead. Normally, I’d just drop on by to pick it up, but I need to stay as inconspicuous as possible. The longer Baras thinks I’m dead, the easier things will be. So…hold onto it for me, will you? I’ll be back. I promise.”

 

The projection flickered away, fading into darkness. Sierra just sat there, unmoving. Slowly, she stared at the ring in her hand, remembering when Giselle first showed it to her, during Giselle’s 13th birthday.

 

“I’ll get this back to you,” she whispered quietly, letting her own voice soothe her. “Somehow.”

 

 

Author's Notes:

 

 

Unfortunately for Sierra, she's got her own conspiracy to deal with pretty soon.

Anyway, I told you this one was positive. Ok, it was mostly sad, but it had a happy ending. I'm pretty sure the next one will be nothing sad whatsoever, so look forward to that! I love my little operative, though sometimes I want to snuggle with a chibi Sierra and reassure her that everything's going to be okay. She goes through a lot of development in her story.

 

[JamagsAwesome]

Alright, time for another story. This time, I’m using Rikynn, my trooper, in Superior Firepower, for Lost and Found. Long one this time, for me at least. 822 words. I’m saving for a Kyber Assault Cannon (the one on the CM that looks like a mini-Death Star) for Rikynn, and decided to write a story about how he got it. Spoilers for Trooper storyline title and companions.

 

 

Several armored figures darted from one rocky outcropping to the next, any attempt at stealth disrupted by the large war droid following them.

 

“Alright, there it is,” said one of them, a large Cathar.

 

“There? The place is built like a fortress,” said another Cathar.

 

“That’s how I know that’s where it is,” said the first, charging his pistol.

 

“We’re conducting an unauthorized raid on a neutral party in order to retrieve a personal article. With all due respect, why can’t you just requisition another one?” said a human.

 

“Because it’s custom-modified. Even if it was standard issue, the factory that makes them got bombed when the Empire attacked Corellia, and even if I could get one, I can’t afford to get all the mods. Just trust me on this, Dorne.”

 

A Nikto and a Gamorrean walked toward Havoc Squad’s rock, brandishing rifles. The Nikto spoke.

 

“You there! You’re trespassing on the property of Jodo the Hutt!”

 

Major Rikynn stood up.

 

“Forex, go! It’s showtime, people!”

 

“Yes, sir!” said the hulking war droid as it sprang in to action.

 

“For the Republic!”

 

The Nikto was shot down quickly, while Rikynn opened fire on the Gamorrean. Aric Jorgan scrambled up to the top of the rock, and set up a sniper rifle. Tanno Vik and Elara Dorne went for the door, Yuun trailing behind them.

 

Aric opened fire on the guards on top of the outpost, while Tanno cleared out the door guards.

 

<Yuun will open the door. There is another patrol coming. Be ready.>

 

Yuun set to work on the door’s control panel, while Tanno attacked the patrol that was turning the corner.

 

Tanno backed away from the remaining five guards, and M1-4X fired a rocket into them, scattering them.

 

“I love a good explosion. How’s that door coming, Yuun?” said Tanno.

 

<It is open,> said Yuun as the door slid down into the floor.

 

“According to our initial scans, the main room should be at the end of this hall,” said Elara.

 

“Good,” said Rikynn, running down the hallway to a large door, which slid open. The rest of Havoc filed in behind Rikynn, to see who was inside.

 

A heavily armored mercenary stood in front of a large glass display case, seemingly unarmed. He took a couple steps forward and extend both hands towards Havoc, as if in greeting. If they hadn’t received Republic SpecForce training, they might never have even noticed the flamethrowers attached to the mercenary’s wrists.

 

As it was, it was all they could do to avoid the massive arcs of fire that stretched out towards them, scorching the floor and walls. Rikynn rolled behind a smaller display case, containing an old lightsaber. Aric ducked back through the door, hiding behind the wall. Elara and Yuun darted behind a pile of boxes, and Tanno went behind M1-4X, who was unfazed by the scorching heat of the flames.

 

The mercenary shut off his flamethrowers, and began to laugh, only to receive a rocket square in the chest.

 

“No cold-hearted mercenary employed by that treacherous Hutt can stand against the righteous champions of the Republic!” proclaimed M1-4X triumphantly.

 

Rikynn emerged from cover rubbing his head.

 

“What he said.”

 

He walked over to the mercenary and examined his armor.

 

“Mando, by the looks of him”

 

Rikynn kicked him a couple times to make sure he was dead. When he was certain, he took out his pistol and fired three rounds into the corpse’s head anyway. He then turned his attention to the large central display case. Attached to it was a plaque.

 

“Corellian Bunker Buster Aurek, taken from the Commander of the Republic’s Havoc Squad, when they were outwitted and captured by the mighty and wise Jodo, Duke of Mygeeto.”

 

“Stupid slimy slug, it’s a Grek, not an Aurek,” muttered Rikynn, when something caught his eye. He walked over to another display case. In it was a cannon of a model he didn’t recognize.

 

“You’ve got your cannon, can we leave now?” said Aric.

 

“Just a minute,” said Rikynn.

 

He examined the cannon.

 

“Mygeetan Energy Crystal for a power source, dish emitter, should have good accuracy, high power, not too heavy. I like it. Kyber Assault Cannon, huh?”

 

He looked up at his squad.

 

“I’m taking this one.”

 

“Wait, we came all this way for your Bunker Buster, and you don’t even want it?” said Tanno.

 

<Sometimes one finds something more valuable than what was sought,> said Yuun with a nod.

 

“This weapon will make an excellent addition to the Republic’s arsenal of freedom!” added M1-4X.

 

“We’ll have to register it with the SpecForce Ordnance Distribution Officer…” said Elara.

 

“As long as we can get off this ice cube,” said Aric, “I feel like my ears are about to fall off.”

 

“Then it’s settled. I get a shiny new gun, we leave and never have to deal with Jodo again. Good?” said Rikynn.

 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” said Elara.

 

“Maybe. Let’s go.”

 

 

Author’s Notes

 

Rikynn is my Light Cathar Male Commando. I meant for this to be the same length as my others, but I had fun writing it, and the action scenes wouldn’t really work any shorter than they are. This was originally supposed to be on Nar Shadaa instead of Mygeeto, so sorry if there’s anything I failed to change. I switched it because in Battlefront 2, the Death Star crystal is recovered on Mygeeto, and the Kyber Assalut Cannon looks a bit like the Death Star. That’s basically it.

 

Edited May 31, 2015 by JamagsAwesome
Forgot to add something

[Diviciacus]

Hi! I'm a bad, and I was wondering, are we allowed to use old prompts when they are not featured?

[Kitar]

Hai!

Yes you are allowed to use a prompt when it is not the featured prompt.

 

We have a lovely Prompt Archive being maintained by Alaurin, use what ever strikes your fancy. The Archive is located here. Pick any prompt you like and happy writing.

Edited June 1, 2015 by Kitar

[nervousheroA]

My entry for Irresistible Urges is here! This one is pretty light-hearted this time. No deaths, no self-deprivation whatsoever! Yay!

 

With 665 words, featuring Giselle and Sierra once more, no spoilers, this is Sensations:

 

 

All the lights were off in the house, save for the occasional, silent lightning strike from the distant storm steadily getting closer. As far as 16-year-old Sierra could tell, it was roughly 2 in the morning. No one else was awake.

 

She tred on just her toes, cringing as each step made the wooden floor of the house creak, the silence amplifying the usually soft sound. It was bad enough she was doing this at all, never mind that it was the middle of the night, getting ready to raid the kitchen like some 40-year-old lady who had just given up on her diet.

 

As she finally reached the fridge, she scolded herself. She was only after one thing, really: the small box of chocolates she had bought from the store the previous day. While her mother had put them in the fridge, to save them for tomorrow when their father came back from his trip to Balmorra, Sierra had woken up suddenly with the urge to take just one piece of the candy for the umpteenth time in a row.

 

She had opened this fridge hundreds of times before, knew exactly where to hold the door as it opened to avoid any creaking of the hinges. Quickly pushing down the sensor with her left hand, she kept the light off, so no one would see the light from the inside. She didn’t need to see the box to know where it was. She carefully reached into the dark, pulling out a box about twice the size of her hand. Gently closing the fridge door, she retreated a few steps to the side, crouching slightly as she matched the height of the kitchen counter nearby. As long as she didn’t move from this spot, it was impossible to be noticed.

 

The back of her mind continued to scold her as she pulled back the packaging she had secretly pre-opened when she had bought it, mocking her for her gluttony, but as soon as she put the first piece of chocolate on her tongue, her thoughts melted faster than the chocolate.

 

She let a small sigh escape her lips as she savored the flavor, all inhibitions completely gone. It was gone too quickly for her liking, and her instinct quickly reached for another piece, all logic dissolving into the candy she was now devouring.

 

It was then that the lightning outside flashed again, briefly filling the room with bright light, and Sierra was quick to see the outline of her older sister, apparently trying to sneak her way back to the bedrooms.

 

Both girls froze instinctively, staring at one another like deer in the headlights. Sierra could actually see pretty well in the dark, and she knew Giselle could make up for what she couldn’t see with the Force. They were both busted.

 

“The hell are you doing?” Giselle whispered first, not trying very hard to contain her disgust. “It’s two in the morning.”

 

“I could ask the same to you,” Sierra retorted, taking a closer look at her older sister’s tight-fitting outfit. “You were with that Zabrak again, weren’t you?”

 

Even in the dark, she could see Giselle blush ever so slightly.

 

“Like you ever cared about my love life.”

 

“I don’t,” she agreed, “but Mom and Dad certainly do, and I’m pretty sure you’ll have it far worse than I will if you blab.”

 

Catching the hint, the Sith-in-training blinked several times, thinking over the situation.

 

“Look,” she said, trying to not sound desperate, “how about this: I won’t blab if you won’t blab. Please? You know I’ll get screwed if I’m caught…” She paused. “And if it comes out that you knew…”

 

Sierra paled at the realization.

 

“It’s a deal.” She climbed to her feet, making her way to the fridge to return the box to the fridge. “Now, let’s hurry back before they—“

 

The kitchen suddenly filled with light.

 

“Well, ****.”

 

 

Author's Notes:

 

 

Characterization through backstories is always fun, especially when I get to show Giselle's younger, less-responsible side. The two of them are so cute together.

Thank you for reading!

 

[Diviciacus]

Hai!

Yes you are allowed to use a prompt when it is not the featured prompt.

 

We have a lovely Prompt Archive being maintained by Alaurian, use what ever strikes your fancy. The Archive is located here. Pick any prompt you like and happy writing.

 

So I wrote a story! It's kind of a background piece for my Bounty Hunter, Apokteina. It ran away from me really hard.

 

Notes:

-Night of the Living Prompt: Family

-Contains spoilers for Bounty Hunter story.

-Story is set not long after the completion of the original pre-expansion BH story.

-All planets mentioned actually exist and are known at the time of SWTOR, according to Legends-level canon. I spent probably two hours distracted reading Wookieepedia in my research.

-This was originally supposed to be formatted as kind of a journal entry, but that ended up not happening. Because reasons.

-3,400 words.

-Yes, I'm talking about cherry pancakes (you'll know it when you read it )

 

 

It's dark in my quarters. Lets me keep the day out of my head so I can sleep. I can't see the bedside clock from where I'm lying with Torian resting his head on my shoulder. I feel him close against me, and I smile. But I can also hear him.

 

"Ap? I feel you're awake by the way you breathe. Are you alright?"

 

I kiss his forehead. "I'm well enough, if sleepless tonight. I've wanted to tell you something. Many things, really. We've been married for nearly a month now - speaking of which, I'm going to tell Mako in the morning, although I suspect she knows - and I thought you should know some of my past. What has forged me into the warrior whose hand you asked in marriage. I know quite a bit about you from our time on Taris, after all."

 

He leans up to run a hand through my hair, we kiss. I'm slow to break it. "Lights: medium-low." For just a moment, I can't help but inject the durasteel back into my voice even for a command so simple as turning on a light in my cabin. I breathe once in, slowly, and exhale slower.

 

"I am a Mandalorian." I begin. "I can say it in my head. Aloud. Write it down a hundred times. Hell, I even married one. Not completely sure how that happened. But something about you, even when I first met you outside Kaas city, Torian, my cyare... cyar'ika?... Whatever. You know what I mean."

 

I can feel him trying to suppress a chuckle at my fumbling Mando'a.

 

" At some point I'll get this language figured out. Can't be half as bad as learning Hutt was. Or Jawaese. Blizz is a good little guy, but sometimes I can only smile and nod as he chitters.

 

I am a Mandalorian. Still sounds weird. Might always. I never set out to be one. I never even really liked them - us, now I guess. The few I'd seen over the years had always seemed so... haughty. Arrogant. They were better than me, than everyone. After what happened on Hutta, I mostly hated them. If the rest were half as obnoxious, petty, and terrible as Blood was, the only thing I wanted to do with them was beat them at their own game. The Great Hunt. Mako and I fought tooth and nail just to secure our place in it. The hardest thing I've ever done before or since was winning it. Even Tormen wasn't so tough - a Sith who is more machine than man offers exploitable weaknesses, especially to some of the goodies I picked up on Nar Shaddaa.

 

Is that why Mandalore the Vindicated offered me a place in the Clans? With no support, no backup plans, and nothing to lose, I did beat them at their - our - own game. Is that why? Just a blaster and the galaxy's best slicer at my side. Mako is in some ways the little sister I never had. I hope she never realizes the truth of what SIS did to her. She would break, I think.

 

I don't know why I jumped so readily at Mandalore's offer. Maybe I wasn't really looking for creds on all the jobs I took. Maybe I really just wanted a home. A family. I lost my father on Bothawui. No... mom lost her husband on Bothawui. I don't know how old I was - perhaps I hadn't yet been born - when the Empire attacked, but I certainly remember neither the world nor my father. I remember mom, though. She never talked about what Bothawui used to be. Wouldn't talk about it. Couldn't? We planet-hopped a lot when I was a child. Lived on more planets and stations than most people can name. I picked up most of my mechanical skill on the long freighter flights between temporary homes. Turns out a sarcastic little girl with bright green eyes who can fix a broken holocom she pulled out of the trash compactor gets shown how to fix a lot of other equipment, too.

 

We eventually settled on Coruscant. Mom did something for the Jedi. It's been many years, and I'm no longer certain what. She wasn't a Jedi, I don't even think she was Force-sensitive. If she was, she hid it well. I think she worked in the library. They didn't pay her, but provided food and a little apartment near the temple. Mom brought home holorecordings sometimes. She watched them more than I did. Only good, cheerful ones, though... never anything about old wars. We had been living on Coruscant for maybe five years before everything went south. I was nineteen and looking to join the Jedi Temple's security forces. I'd been working part time at the local law station for months, filing cases and doing speeder and equipment maintenance, but if I worked in the temple too I could better look after mom. She wasn't old by any means - I never found out how old she was before she died - but she had flashbacks sometimes. The old public transport shuttle model so popular on Coruscant - the thrum of the engines used to make her weep uncontrollably. She had to walk to the temple.

 

I'd saved up some credits and bought a decommissioned old Meirm junker the precinct had been using. I'd been fixing them for years so they gave me a discount when they auctioned off all the old equipment they were replacing. Got a blaster on the cheap, too. Not a good one but it still mostly worked. Lost it in the swamp on Nal Hutta. I was trying to make some modifications to the repulsorlift of my "new" speeder, get it to run quieter (the old last-gen Meirm repulsor sound still drives me up the bulkhead after all these years) when the Empire attacked Coruscant. Attacked the Temple. Attacked mom. I don't know where or how she died, but I could hear - I could feel - the explosions. It wasn't half terrifying as I thought it would be after all mom's warnings, but then I was pretty far from the mess. Mom never came home that evening, I was worried sick. Couldn't eat. I tried to get to the temple but Republic military had the whole sector cordoned off. Havok squad, said they were. Said I couldn't go, that they had everything under control. All I could see was smoke anyway, I was more terrified of the aftermath than the attack.

 

A couple of days later some Mirialan came to mom's house. I thought she was kind of cute, but was somehow colder than winter on Yuka. Said she was a Padawan, her name was Synchordia, asked who I was, said mom died in the attack. I'd never seen a Jedi before. I think she might have said something too about how the Jedi were relocating to someplace called Tython and I was welcome to come since mom worked in the Temple, but I slammed the door in her face. I hated the Jedi, hated the Republic, they let mom die! After all she did for them! I spent what seemed like hours screaming and hitting and breaking everything I could get my hands on. I couldn't see straight through tears and ineffectual rage. I must have passed out at some point, from exhaustion or lack of food or sleep.

 

I woke up in the dead of night looking like the house had been trashed by a gang. At least I never damaged my speeder. I holstered my blaster - even if I hadn't got the alignment on the actuator quite right, I could still fake someone out if I had to - got on my speeder and just drove around. I didn't want to think but couldn't stop thinking. I passed a local flatcake stand... Hetairos always made the best ones. He was Force-sensitive but never used it for anything besides showmanship at his cart. The show brought customers up, the cakes made them come back, I guess. I don't know when he slept - he always seemed to be at his cart, day or night. He gave me one on the house when I walked up, saying he'd heard about mom. I tried very hard not to cry... I succeeded. Mostly.

 

He liked to put fruit in the flatcakes even though real trees didn't grow below the first level. My favorite was always an odd looking red and purple berry with a large seed in the middle Hetairos had to remove first because it wasn't edible. He said they were native to Coruscant before it became a purely city world, but their name had been lost to history. I haven't seen them grown or sold anywhere else, and with the war raging I may never again.

 

In my wandering on the speeder I came to a small spaceport. I sold it for passage the next morning to an Outer Rim world called Karideph. It was about half city, half agriculture when I first arrived and after the attack on Coruscant there was a lot of black market trade for foodstuffs. It had been attacked by the Empire in the war too, but wasn't hit as badly as Coruscant. I was a reasonable shot with a blaster and could fix things so work on Karideph was at least steady, mostly locals looking to protect something.

 

Took up my first bounty there about a year after I arrived, virtually by accident. I was escorting a shipment from a butcher outside the city to a local bar. I'd never been inside, but I'd walked past often enough. At the time I still couldn't drink. I was worried I'd lose myself to the rage like I had back on Coruscant after mom got killed. But I had to go in the bar to deliver the meat shipment. I could handle that, right? As I was leaving, there was a notice board by the door. One of the screens had a wanted poster for some small-time lowlife wanted for questioning in connection to some murders and a theft some weeks back. The reward was 100 credits for information, and another 500 if he was arrested - as much as I earned in six months! I made a copy of the ad, but I didn't think I'd manage to ever collect on the reward. If he'd killed two farmhands already over what looked like the bottom half of a run-down astromech, I didn't really want to tangle with him all that bad.

 

Until he walked right in the door, blaster drawn. I don't even know why, the arresting officer never told me and I never looked up later what he was doing there. I was behind the door when he kicked it open. People started screaming, and I turned around. I don't think he ever noticed me before it was too late. I shot off his blaster hand, but it was a little more luck than good management I hit him at all. I didn't want to kill him, didn't want to kill anybody. He had to have a family, right? He was still moaning in pain and I was still standing there stunned, limply holding my blaster when the police arrived. I don't think they were very happy with me, but mostly I think they were glad they got their guy without anyone getting hurt worse.

 

I spent the rest of that afternoon and most of the night in the station house for questioning. It was the first time I'd sarcastically told someone mom would be proud for finishing a job. I don't think she would have been, not for that job anyway, but I used to get rather irritable if I hadn't eaten in a while in my younger days. After that, I started finding all the bounty work I could. A lot of it was finding things people had lost. Pets, stolen speeders, that sort of thing. I made a lot of children happy getting back their lost akk dogs or gizkas, and their parents were more than happy to pay me a few dozen credits for my trouble.

 

Somewhere around then was when I first decided I wanted a family. I was tired of being alone. I'd taken a handful of lovers over the years, but I usually didn't stay in one place for long. Mostly flings. And mostly women. After a hard day tracking down thieves, back then the guys my age of most species just didn't have a delicate enough touch. Any chance of finding someone got put on hold very quickly, though.

 

I had brought a thief and his stolen landspeeder in to a police warehouse in Capital City, when the officer filling out the paperwork recognized me. She knew my face from news reports a few years back, her brother was one of the murdered farmhands from my first bounty. Had sent me a letter thanking me for bringing the guy to justice. We got to talking about family - mostly hers, I didn't want to talk about mom, but at some point she coaxed out of me that mom died in the Sacking. She was pretty sure she could trust me with something she couldn't file a report for - she had a suspicion that some of the senior warehouse officers were corrupt, falsifying reports to steal physical evidence and sell it on the black market. Couldn't prove it, but wanted me to follow one of them and gather intel.

 

Information. Ha! I nearly lost my eye on that job. Turns out she was too right for comfort. After following the officer for the better part of that week, I tracked him to a run-down spaceport I wasn't even sure was still in use until a small cargo ship landed. Hadn't seen anything like it, but whoever was piloting it liked the cold. My mark had turned the ambient temperature way down - it was a good thing I was wearing mom's old nerfskin jacket, even if I was taller than her so it didn't keep much of my legs warm. A Talz and a humanoid droid walked down the gangplank of the ship. That explained the cold, but what was going on? Neither had anything with them. The officer gestured to some kind of specialized cargo container in the corner that looked like some of the larger climate control models that went offworld carrying food. The Aurebesh painted on it labeled the container 'Kari protocol droids.' Well, I thought smuggling those was much better than confiscated evidence from open investigations, and both were unarmed. I had my blaster and could take them in. I didn't know how much (or if) I was going to get paid for this job, but the fame would at least help land something that would pay big. And then they opened one of the crates.

 

A girl stumbled out and I wasn't sure she was human, but then she did have a blindfold. She couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen, and looked in pretty rough shape. Wasn't wearing much beyond a slave collar either. What I thought was going to be an easy takedown just turned my stomach. I had to do something! That was someone's little girl out there! And who knew what horrible things they had planned!

 

I'd shot more than a few thieves in the arm or leg, and had killed a man once when he attacked me, but this was the first time I shot to kill offensively. Shoot I did. Half a dozen shots into the scumbag officer's back, another two in the droid, but the Talz must have been Force-sensitive, because I've never seen anyone but Jedi or Sith jump thirty yards from a standstill like that. Despite their homeworld being an iceball, Talz move surprisingly fast. I learned that the loud way. One clawed hand swatted away my blaster and the Talz tackled me to the ground. It raked a claw across the left side of my face. Worst pain I'd ever felt that was physical and I was sure I'd lost my eye. The good thing about them is they may be tall but aren't that heavy. I still had a belt knife and managed to hold the Talz off enough to jam the pointy end deep into one of its eyes. Must have gotten lucky, when it twitched a couple of times and then went limp.

 

The little girl suddenly was at my side, asking if I was alright. She must have been tough - or traumatized - to be that calm after what she just witnessed. I shoved the dead Talz off and rolled onto my knees, trying not to retch. Wiping blood from my face I realized I could still see out of both eyes. Feeling never luckier, I told the girl I was fine and stood. I wrapped mom's coat around her so she had some clothing and used my holocom to call the woman who'd offered me this job. I told her I had some bad news, and some good news, and a powerful need for a medivac and hung up. I dismantled the shock collar on the girl and started to untie her blindfold, but she jumped away before I could get much of a grip on the knot. She told me I couldn't take her mask off, because it was important. Mask? Said she wore it so people didn't see she didn't have eyes. I'd never heard of Miraluka yet, so I was furious. Not only were they trying to traffic people, but disabled ones as well! Slumping against the wall of the docking bay as I started to hear a siren overhead, all I could do was weep.

 

After the medivac dropped us off at a medical center I was put under guard almost immediately. Word traveled fast that I'd just killed two people. Don't bother telling anyone why I did, though. No, that would be too easy. Story of my life. Detectives had a lot of questions for me. Turns out I'd put a dent in a slave trading ring spanning nearly the whole Minos Cluster. 'No I wasn't part of it. No I wasn't a sleazeball who had a thing for children. Yes I killed them. No it wasn't premeditated.' So after a night in the hospital and a week and a half in lockup, they let me go. Just like that. Turns out that evidence warehouse officer's grandfather has a lot of pull with the Kari law enforcement. Big mining magnate, I found out.

 

When I finally got back to my rented room, I had five messages waiting. Two were from the families of some children from the other crates. One was from a Jedi Master Orgus Din; turns out the little blind girl - the message says her name is Cheimeria - was Force-sensitive and had no known family, so he was bringing her to Tython for training. Also told me she refused to let the coat I gave her out of her sight. One was a five thousand credit voucher from the grandfather thanking me for what I did. Seems like nothing now, but at that time I was rich enough I felt I could do anything. It was more credits than I'd ever had! And the last message was from a guy I'd never heard of before. Braden, living on Hutta. Said he had heard about the bust I had on Karideph, and the job of a lifetime was waiting for me if I'd just give him a holocall.

 

He wasn't kidding."

 

Torian watches me in silence and I can tell that he's thinking, but not what. After a moment, he holds me tightly, whispering something in my ear in Mando'a. I can't decipher it all, but I catch the words for 'gratitude' and for 'love,' and have a pretty good idea what he meant.

 

I turn and kiss him, smiling wickedly as in one fluid motion I pin his arms above his head and roll on top of him without breaking the kiss. Lifting my body up into the cool night air I straddle him, running a hand from his, pinned, down his arm and chest. I gyrate my hips slowly as I lock eyes with my husband and whisper "Enough words for now, cyare."

 

 

Edited June 1, 2015 by Diviciacus

[nervousheroA]

So I wrote a story! It's kind of a background piece for my Bounty Hunter, Apokteina. It ran away from me really hard.

 

Notes:

-Night of the Living Prompt: Family

-Contains spoilers for Bounty Hunter story.

-Story is set not long after the completion of the original pre-expansion BH story.

-All planets mentioned actually exist and are known at the time of SWTOR, according to Legends-level canon. I spent probably two hours distracted reading Wookieepedia in my research.

-This was originally supposed to be formatted as kind of a journal entry, but that ended up not happening. Because reasons.

-3,400 words.

-Yes, I'm talking about cherry pancakes (you'll know it when you read it )

 

Holy cow, that was incredible. Very deep and thoughtful. Great descriptions of her first, and totally random and lucky, kills. I loved every second of it!

A friendly note on formatting, for the future: try adding an extra paragraph mark in between each paragraph, to set them apart, since tabbing each line doesn't really translate from Word to the forums.

Looking forward to more!! :D

[Feldraeth]

Hi everyone. Not sure how many comments I'll be able to post before I run out of power, but here goes.

 

Comments

 

@Bultitudes_Loke: I enjoyed the blurred lines where cybernetic augmentation met natural responses, especially when it isn't entirely in the hunter's best interest.

 

@Frauzet: I know that Iolith orchestrated the entire setup but aww. It flows so naturally. Giz is really going to be devastated when it's all revealed, and I guess he was (I might need to reread TD&oC to check that). One question though, why pick a dancer as her new ‘job’? was it simply the most convenient, because intelligence had operatives there, or because she accurately gauged what Giz’s response would be?

Priotirites: Aw, that was sweet. Well written and enjoyable. Wait, there’s a scary Thorns from an AU? Is that yet to be posted or have I simply missed it?

 

@NervousheroA:

Doubts: Pierce is the only one who could get away with expressing doubts before the Wrath and not getting a lightsaber to the chest. As for the combat, expertly written. I enjoyed it immensely and actually wondered who would win for a moment.

Darkness: The emperor is inside your knights head. Oh wonderful. So, is it a remnant of the Act II interlude, some sith sorcery, a delusion, or is she a full-blown child of the emperor and doesn't realise it, just like [REDACTED]. Phil Lamarr

Shadows that kill: Ah, classic operatives: in, complete the mission and out with nary a problem and no witnesses. I liked the present she left for her sister, a little remembrance only she would get.

Noisy Droids: Ah Toovee, an endless source of fun, and by fun I mean irritation. I fully get why Vette wants to tinker with him, though I'll admit your ancient Sith threw me for a moment. I tend to assume a Latinesque or ancient Egyptian sounding language, but that’s just a personal preference. Nice observation of Gisselle regarding Quinn. I can see how she becomes the wrath.

Failure: Aww, despite everything crumbling around her, Sierra (note spelling) still tries her utmost. I suppose she can't really afford to languish in self-pity though. The empire isn't kind to anyone.

The Last Ones: whoa, I’d never actually thought about the aftereffects of Baras’ betrayal on the SW’s family. Aside from Bright’s Colran Niral, it’s never really come up, but it makes sense. Baras would try to manipulate or at least maintain the illusion he wasn’t behind their death. I liked your agent’s interactions with Vector and Watcher II/Keeper, but I’m always a fan of them. There’s just something ‘appropriate’ about a proper English accent in spy stories.

Sensations: Enjoyed this one, especially the sibling spat and the ending.

 

@Fentas: Ah siblings and children, an eternal wellpoint of strife for a Jedi. This looks like it's going to get even more interesting.

 

@Alaurin: Ah, trooper Tatooine, one of my favourite and least favourite mission sets. Using fallen sand people robes as cover was inspired, since their culture expressly forbids exposing skin to anyone who isn't immediate family. As always, great characterisations, especially with the minor characters. It'd be easy to dismiss Tavus as a simple traitor, but you've shown the complexity in his thoughts and actions. Again, nicely done.

 

@Jamangsawesome:

Vincing the Invincible: invincible, more like incredible. This had me chuckling all through my lunch break. As if no-one would question Darth Marr suddenly showing up on a random patrol. It's not like he does so in game *cough* Rishi *cough*.

I swear it'll work: It's even worse because it echoes the hopful incredulity of the previous piece. Nicely written.

You can't always get what you want: The green Jedi are always fun, though I always assumed they were closer to their Coruscanti chapter than portrayed. I suppose they may want to intervene, to aid, but their duty is to protect Corellia and I suspect the council member who was a bit harsh with Ja-mang might know that a bit too well. The difference in codes is a good addition, and not one we usually see here. Typically, only Striges Jurial is the only in-depth analyst of Jedi lore, though I'm always happy for more members.

Past and Future: poor Jam-ags. not sure I remember him from Kotor, but it's been years since I last played it. Still, good exerpt from the archives for a bit of light reading on the Vanguard. It always bugged me that only the knight gets to use the holoarchive cubby hole in the central communication room, and they only show two messages. Nice to see it used for more.

Measurements: I read this at work and enjoyed this piece probably a bit too much. I liked the measurements, his conclusion about his spoils of war and the casual yet repeated conversation he has with his crewmates.

My name: I liked the not-quite politeness judo your two characters have, though I suspect they'd probably be great friends if they aren't already.

Superior Firepower: there's nothing wrong with a longer story, just look at my work. As for yours. I thoroughly enjoyed the assault and the twist at the end. Also, nice work on Yuun. Not many can get his interactions down, including myself.

 

@Mirdthestrill: Ugh, mornings: the bane of my existence. Nice to see Mallena again, and seeing her family really shows her roots. I know that sentence is a bit redundant, but it helps to know a character's backstory to really understand their choices. I liked the Thanks.

 

@Adwynyth: Welcome back after so long away. I've always loved your semi-irreverent humour, even if I've never commented on it.

 

@Diviciacus: Have to echo NervousheroA here. Whoa. Liked the way you simultaneously showed your character is LS, introduced who I assume to be the knight and showed her first real kill. The framing device was good too, as an intimate aside between husband and wife.

 

 

 

Hope I covered everyone and everything. As always, I have a story. This one is a bit longer than others I’ve written. I considered splitting it into two and then into three pieces, but the hacks didn’t really stand out on their own. It also fits the current prompt by happy coincidence.

 

Prompt: NotLP: Forever may it dominate your destiny, Technology, Health, Lost and found

Title: A debt of freedom

Perspective: Vette, Twi’lek adventurer

Word Count: 5,036

Spoilers: Black Talon climax

 

 

 

The Jedi paced towards us, lightsaber drawn. Stars, this is bad. I mean, yeah, we were invading a Republic battleship and trying to kidnap someone, but a Jedi? Can we take on the intergalactic symbol for good guys? I know the kid said there was a Jedi on board, but I’d hoped he was wrong or that they’d be helping on the bridge. I hadn’t thought she’d be down here with the general.

“You may run or you may stand your ground, but you’ll go no farther,” the Jedi Padawan, Yadira warned, angling her blade at Zul.

 

“Stand down Jedi. Kilran only wants the general, preferably alive. The rest of you can live to tell the grandmaster when she gets here.”

“The republic doesn’t surrender innocents into the heart of tyranny and neither will I.” Well, okay, yeah. We kinda guessed that. Still doesn’t solve the oh so slight problem of a Jedi in our way.

 

Zul hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she drew her blasters. Well, that kinda settles it. I couldn’t just let Zul fight her alone. I mean, sure I could, but she was our best bet for getting out of here alive and free. Well, relatively free for me, anyway. Stars I’m so going to regret doing this. I whipped out both blasters and started shooting, running to flank her. I know Jedi can block blasterfire, maybe even redirect it back at the shooter, but could they do it from all sides?

 

She reached out, and I felt something grab me in a big cottony clenching embrace. The invisible mitten dragged me off my feet, towards the Jedi and her lightsaber. Oh come on, please not like this. Then something slammed into her side, knocking me out of her grip. I didn’t waste any time getting to cover. I don’t have armor plating, a fancy shield generator or force powers to keep me safe. One stray hit from a blaster or energy blade and the galaxy’s down one cute Twi’lek.

 

“Do I have your attention now, Jedi?” Zul called, over the whine of her cooling rail gun. Really, mocking a Jedi: that’s your plan? Sure, she’s probably not going to go full Sith Lord on you but she’s going to catch you sooner or later. When she does, she’ll make it hurt.

 

The Jedi charged her, lightsaber tight to her body, ready to deflect and bolts back at the mercenary. Zul didn’t waste time shooting at her. Instead, she spun, spraying dust in a ring around her. As the Jedi closed, Zul kicked back, firing her jetpack. She rocketed back, as the Jedi barrelled into the now burning cloud. Stumbling through, her coat alight, she left it in the fire.

 

Zul didn’t give her a moment’s pause, firing a pair of missiles at her. The Jedi batted them away, one with the force, the other with her lightsaber. The blade ignited the rocket, wreathing her in flames. Flying back out of the inferno, she stabilised herself, glowering at the merc.

 

“What is it with you and fire, do your blasters not work or something?” the Jedi called, and could hear the frustration in her voice. Guess she was enjoying this as much as we were.

“Not against a lightsaber,”Zul called over the roar of her repulsorlift. While she was distracted with Zul, I struck. I lobbed one of the grenades I picked up earlier at the Jedi. It was a stun grenade, but it’ll still work on a Jedi. There’s no force power that lets them ignore bright light and loud noise, I hope. Zul fired a missile at the same time, the long incendiary mounted on her jetpack.

 

The Jedi whirled, grabbed the grenade and lobbed it at Zul’s missile. Stars this isn’t good. White light exploded and so did my ear cones. Ringing, buzzing pain filled my everywhere. Something hard smacked my butt, and I think it was the floor.

The ringing slamming my ear cones slowly faded away, to be replaced by the roar of Zul’s rocket boosters. I saw the Jedi reaching out for Zul, who despite her jetpack’s best efforts, slowly drifted towards her, as if caught in a slipstream or something. As she drifted closer, I saw the Jedi ready her blade for one lethal slice. I couldn’t let that happen: she’d be on me next.

 

I opened fire, sweeping my blasters all over the Jedi. Sure, shooting at her legs mightn’t be as lethal as say a headshot, but it was a lot harder to parry. I’d seen that with the kid back in the hanger. She dodged and wove her saber around her, ricochets spattering around me, but I didn’t let up. For all I did, it didn’t stop Zul’s inexorable slide towards death. Aw crap: now I just got her mad at me. Just before the final blow, Zul fired her flamethrower, blasting the Jedi point blank. Her grip vanished as the blade swept through. Zul rocketed back, but it wasn’t enough.

 

The tip of the blade opened up a glowing line across the mercenary’s breast. Zul gasped, and something snapped. Then the straining jetpack tore free of its harness. It shot away, smashing into a power monitor and exploded. Zul landed flat on her back, hard. The Jedi didn’t give her the chance to get back up. She kicked her in the side, sending the mercenary into a roll that scattered shattered ceramic plates over the engine room floor. Zul hit a pylon, face up, her left elbow slotted between the cross-section of the pylon. From my vantage point, I saw the cut on her torso wasn’t deep: the blade must’ve just nicked her. The Jedi, face marked by the flames on the right side, was already on her, her boot on Zul’s breastplate.

 

“You’re not going to surrender, are you?” the Jedi growled, and I actually considered it. I mean, look at it this way. I’m a slave. I’ve been compelled to be here. Everything I’ve done has been on someone else’s orders and under threat of torture. The Republic doesn’t do slavery: we all surrender and they’d free me. It wouldn’t be so bad for the others either. The Jedi would take the kid and raise him right. Mako and Zul might face some jail time, but they’d still be alive. Looking at the Jedi, that might be the better option. Then I spotted the underlying sneer ripple through T’chin. Uh oh, she wasn’t after prisoners. Uh, Jedi aren’t meant to get angry or cruel. Have we broken this one?

 

Zul jerked her left arm, pointing her fist at the Jedi. Before Zul could clench of flex and fire anything, The Jedi stamped on her wrist, pinning it to the pylon. Zul cried out as fire blossomed, blackening the pylon.

 

“Apparently not, she mused, t’chun twitching in annoyance. She flipped her blade, taking it in both hands. The gleaming green blade plunged down, searing a long groove in the floor beside Zul. The Jedi staggered, rocked by some unseen blow and then Roan slammed his saber down on her in an overhead slash.

 

She brought hers up to block. They met: a sharp crackle resounded around the room. Roan seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and then she flew back. Landing, Roan chased after her, holding his blade low and back, ready to bury it in her hip and rip it out her shoulder.

 

Zul slowly got back up, clutching the wrist the Jedi stamped on. Mako rushed over, med-scanner in hand. Guess she’s a lot brighter than we are. We’d gone straight for the Jedi: she’d gone to get the kid back up. Skidding to a stop by her partner, she flicked the medscanner probe over her wrist. Zul waved her away with her good hand.

 

“No need, I know it’s broken, just need to set it,” I heard Zul explain, grumbling. I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. The Jedi slammed past, lightsaber tip maybe a foot from me. The kid burst past in pursuit, blade trailing a groove in the bulkhead. Only then, did my reflexes catch up. I hopped back awkwardly. Woah, that was… I really need to get out of the open. I headed for the nearest pillar, the one flanking Mako and Zul.

 

“Kid, you got this?” Zul called out, slightly hoarse. Glancing at the mercenary, I saw her on her feet. Mako strapped ceramic plates around her right arm, forming a split. Above and behind her handiwork, a status bar etched across on her gautlet’s holographic display. Really not the best time to be retooling your interface, but I guess there’s no choice for it. She had glove-based controls: I’d seen the pads on the shuttle. If she couldn’t move her fingers, she couldn’t fire anything.

 

“Mine, find your own,” he snarled back, and I saw him leap in my peripherals, to deliver a slamming vertical swipe. The Jedi danced back, her blade just tapping the tip of his to keep it away from her.

“Suit yourself,” I caught Zul murmur, “ungrateful little *****.” Then she staggered off down the stairs, after the general. Mako trailed after her, pistol held in a shooter’s grip. Huh, since when did she know how to shoot? Note to self, stop underestimating people: the kid’s living proof why.

 

I probably should’ve gone with them, helped Zul with whatever’s down there. In the end, I really don’t care if the Empire reclaims the general. I’m no Imperial loyalist or sympathiser: hey, I’m not even a person in their eyes. I’m only here because the kid insisted I come along. Don’t ask me why? Who knows what goes on in that Sithy head of his? All I know is if he’s not leaving the ship, neither am I.

 

I’m not going back to the Empire unless he makes me. Even then, I’ll make some demands: he listens to me, I think. At least he hasn’t object to anything I’ve done, but that goes against me too. He didn’t object when Baras put this collar back on me or gave him the remote.

 

Said kid came flying at me, spinning in mid-air to get his legs behind him just in time. He landed sideways on the pylon overhead. Grabbing it, he pushed off, like a diver in a pool. Shooting towards the Jedi, he hit the floor about a metre from her, rolled and came up under her high guard. He swiped, two handed, the crimson tip searing the hem of her pants leg. She arced back, turning a handspring before landing, blade held close and in front of her.

 

“You aren’t going to win this, I swear it,” she warned, watching the kid warily. I could get why. He doesn’t look like a threat. Even I forget how dangerous he can be, and we met when be kicked tall dark and grabby through a statue.

“Shouldn’t swear,” he taunted, his voice a singsong snarl. Whoa, is it just me or did he just snarl? He doesn’t do that. Pouts, grumbles, moans and whines sure, but snarl? Slowly, he paced around her, and I saw his eyes. They were yellow. Well, that’s… new.

 

He charged, barrelling all of his weight behind yet another overhead blow. She faced him head on, turning a tight spin to add more power to her parry. They met, and a lightsaber went flying, it’s crimson blade sheathing as it twirled in the air. That’s not good. Snapping her feet around, she delivered a two handed strike that hacked his head off. At least, it would’ve if he was still where he’d been a moment earlier. He ducked, twirling under the blade, and came back up on her outside. She tugged the blade back, but she’d put a lot into the swing. Fighting her own momentum gave him enough time to grab her wrist and use it as a fulcrum. Leaping up, he kicked her in the back of her lekku. A twinge of sympathetic agony rolled down mine: so not cool. How’d he like it if she kicked him in the uh, I don’t really know where humans are ultra-sensitive: the junk maybe?

 

Not too surprisingly, she staggered forwards, one hand rushing up to massage her lekku. I know that feeling way too well. Three-eyes used to tug on mine to get my attention whenever he caught me slacking off. Roan swung back down, hammering her wrist with the flat of his palm. Her lightsaber clattered on the floor, green blade winking out as it left her grasp.

 

She reacted instantly, elbowing him in the throat as she threw herself forwards. He staggered back, choking, but only for a moment. She leapt, rising even as she extended her arm towards her fallen saber. It shifted, then shot up, towards her outstretched hand. The saber sailed through the air, through where her hand had been moments before. The Jedi wasn’t there anymore.

 

Roan had reached out the same time as she’d leapt, and a wave of cold swatted me across the face. I’ve seen him use the force, felt it back on Korriban and Vaiken, and it wasn’t like that. It was warm and comforting, like a blanket left out after lounging in a tub for slightly too long. This was wet, slimy and felt cold. I don’t mean like a summer’s day on Hoth kind of cold. I mean a nauseating miasma, like you get in an abotoir.

 

The kid used this cold power like a tether, and slammed the Jedi into the pylon she’d kicked Zul into. She cried out, a short ‘whumph’ing gasp more than a scream, and then she was gone. He whipped her back, and into the bulkhead, slamming her down onto the firebird crest of the Republic. She sucked in a breath, and used it to hack up pale-pink blood onto the crest. Then Roan lifted his hand, like a sorcerer from one of those old horror shlock films. Except this time, I wasn’t in a barely comfy movie theatre, eating bang-corn. This was real.

 

She rose into the air and hung there, suspended by cold clammy tendrils of dark power. He charged and leapt up, planting a boot in the stomach. A dull shockwave echoed around the room as she flew back, slamming into and through a power transformer. Energy sparked and crackled through the air as the kid dropped to the floor, stomping on the Republic firebird.

 

Landing lightly, he reached out with both hands, and two lightsabers, his red and her green, ruched to meet him. Taking them, he stalked over to the Jedi. I followed, keeping at least four metres from him at all times. Sure, it wouldn’t help if he suddenly decided to kill me too, but no amount of distance would matter then.

 

She lay in the wreckage, electricity sparking around her but none entering her. Guess that has to be a force power or something. Either that or she had a shield generator. If so, I hadn’t seen any of my or Zul’s shots spark against it. Maybe it only goes out a few centimetres from her body. Whatever the case, it didn’t matter, to the kid at least. He stood over her, and drew his lightsaber. The crimson blade cast a harsh light, hellish almost, twisting his face into something malevolent, and the crackle of electricity didn’t help soften the image. In that moment, I didn’t see the kid: I saw a Sith. That’s when I stepped in.

 

You see, I’m not part of the Republic. I’m not paid by them, don’t subscribe to their ideals or even a citizen. I’m pretty sure they want me for piracy, theft and a whole slew of other stuff in some parts of it, but they’re not bad people. Neither are the Jedi. They want to protect people and let them be free. As a former and current slave, from a people long oppressed by other species, I could get behind that. So, when I saw the kid loom over the Jedi, the same way the Jedi had over the mercenary, I pretty much knew I had to intervene. Don’t ask me why, it just made sense.

 

I didn’t attack him: he’d counter that without thinking. That unthinking rote response would get me killed, just like most of the marines on this ship. Instead, Instead, I used something way more dangerous, words. So far as I’ve seen, he’s pretty open to what I say. I even got him to back down with that lieutenant. I know I’m walking a vibroblade’s edge every time I try it, but it’s worked out so far. I mean, he hasn’t zapped me for saying anything yet. Kid: one, previous two jerks: zero.

“So, you’re just going to kill her while she’s out cold?” I half expected him to ignore me and murder her. Instead, he glanced at me. His brow was furrowed and his mouth slightly open as if he was stuck on a hard choice.

“She’s a Jedi, but she’s not red anymore,” he slowly reasoned but there was something new in his voice: confusion. Okay, I can work with that.

 

“and red is an enemy?” I asked. He nodded, eyes not leaving the fallen Jedi.

“Yep, blue’s an ally, green’s friendly yellow’s neutral and red’s dead.” Okay, so enemies are killed, no ifs or buts. Good to know for later: remind me to never wear red. Not only does it clash with my skin, but apparently it’s colour-code for the kid’s murder button.

“Why not just leave her, grab the general and go? It’s not like she’ll get up for a few minutes and we’ll be long gone by then.” He looked up at me, and I saw resolve steel his green eyes. wait, why am I taking this Jedi’s side? She tried to kill me, twice.

 

“Vette, I need the control to your collar.” What, what’d I do? Whatever it was, there’s no reason to zap me over it. Wait: he asked me for it. I don’t have it: he does. If I did, I’d have taken the damn thing off and chucked it out the nearest airlock.

“Uh, I don’t have it: you’ve got it,” I answered, not mentioning anything about lobbing it into space. See, I can be tactful, err sometimes.

“But you had it when we took it from what’s his name, ridge-face,” the kid argued as he craned his neck around to look right at me.

“Yeah, but Baras insisted on re-collaring me when he handed me over to you, and you took it from him,” I fired back, and realisation pushed up both tattooed and plain eyebrow. Rummaging down his coat and pants, he glanced up at me awkwardly, green again eyes shining. Aw no, don’t say it: please don’t say it.

 

“I think it might still be on Korriban,” he admitted, the words stumbling out of his mouth as he took a step back, almost into a fighting stance. I’m dead, that has to be it. The guards shot me and I died in that tomb. There’s no way reality’s this cruel. I mean come on! First I get chirpy the torturer, then grabby the Sith wannabe and then, when things start to look up, this happens!

 

Okay: take deep breaths. Don’t explode at the kid who could take your head off if spooked. Let’s look at this rationally. On the plus side, I’m not gonna get zapped. Down side, this thing’s never coming off. I could see the rest of my life stretch out before me, when I’m old and wrinkly and still with this spark-plug collar stuck around my neck. That’s just not fair.

 

“Uh, Mako, could you come up here for a minute?” the kid called, pulling me from the unfairness of it all. Why Mako, what could she do to help? After a moment, the slicer made her way back up the steps, walking a wide circle around the smoking ruins of one of the pillars.

“Need something?” she asked, warily watching the out-cold Jedi under the kid.

“Uh yeah: we’ve lost Vette’s collar remote and need it off so I can put it on her,” he explained, pointing at the unconscious Jedi. Wait, he’s doing what now? Mako stared at the kid, cybernetics arching around her raised eyebrow, “O-kay.” Yeah, I can see the same thoughts I had run through her eyes. Upside, no dead Jedi: we can still show our faces in Republic space after we get free of all this. Downside, she’s coming with us, and she’s a prisoner.

 

There weren’t a lot of people Nok’s gang straight up refused to mess with, but Jedi were one of them. Not only can they cut you into pieces after shrugging off your best shot, they can call out to other Jedi across the galaxy. Holding one prisoner was a great way to meet a whole lot more of them. Oddly enough, the best peacekeepers in the galaxy get a bit pissy about people kidnapping or enslaving their own.

 

She padded around behind me and I felt her hand gently brush tchun over my shoulder. I instinctively bristled under her caress. “Ryloth style twin prong collar with a frequency code of…” I squeaked as the collar gave me a little zap, “there you are.” You know it’s a little worrying someone that sweet knows so much about slave collars. I can hear Nar Shaddaa in her accent and she’s got some fancy looking cybernetics: they couldn’t be cheap. Next thing I’ll find out is that her daddy is a bajillionaire and she has her own pen full of slaves in his palace. Uh, I’m not for sale, if anyone’s asking. I’m totally fine with being bound to a murderous child psychopath who doesn’t quite get that I’m a person… Actually, how much freedom do pen slaves get?

 

Something clicked on the back of my neck, and I felt the collar spring me free. I felt a weight tumble from my shoulders and not just because it fell off. I knew it, have known it way too often in my life: the feeling of regained freedom. Yeah, I’ve been enslaved so many times I probably get a discount on collars.

 

“So, does this mean I’m free?” I asked, way too hesitantly. Maybe I should’ve been more decisive but uh, today’s made it very clear that he’s dangerous. I don’t want him thinking I’m ‘red’ or anything threatening to him. His untattooed brow scrunched up and he looked right at me: eep.

 

“You can fight, aren’t afraid of danger, have a strong enough will to defy your betters even when you know the consequences. You don’t really belong in the slave caste,” he reasoned, and I had to hand it to him: he was dead right. I don’t belong in the slave caste. Neither does anyone else.

“No,” he uttered with a petulant tone and my everything stopped. Taking it all away just when I’ve gotten free would be harsher than anything chirpy could ever do, “you really don’t belong in the slave caste.” Huh? Whatever he meant, he nodded. If it means I’m a free woman, I’ll nod to pretty much anything.

 

Reaching down, the kid turned the wicked device over in his hands, and then put it on the Jedi. Wait, why’s he collaring… oh I get it. It’ll take her what, a minute to rip the collar apart with the force. That’s a minute longer we have to run after she wakes up.

 

“So, what caste do I belong to? Sith maybe?” I asked, hopeful. Hey, if I’m a Sith, in his eyes anyway, maybe he’d treat me like, oh I don’t know, an equal? His giggle killed that thought.

“Don’t be silly, you can’t use the force. You’re an out-caste, a foreignah,” he stressed the last word weirdly, leaving his mouth hanging open for a long second. Then, like a bubble popping, his mouth clicked shut with a sudden squelch. He made an ‘oww’ sound and rubbed at his jaw, slowly wiggling it. Huh, uh, is being an outcast a bad thing? I mean, I know it’s bad in Hutt space, does being outside the Imperial castes means something different. For all I know, it could mean that I don’t get hassled because I’m a Twi’lek, ever. Yeah, I doubt it, but a girl can dream, right?

 

Before I could really think about whatever that meant, a scream tore through the air. It sounded like someone skewered a Tuk’ata: deep and utterly inhuman. It came from down the stairs, where Zul was. In the time I’d figured that out, the kid was gone, halfway across the engine room and charging down the stairs. I followed, the stench of burnt meats cloying in my nose. I half expected so see some colossal monster stand over a ceramic-clad corpse. Instead, the monster was ceramic clad.

 

I counted five marines littering the floor, bent, burnt and bleeding. One or two of them still moved, but they were in no condition to fight. They were the lucky ones. A man I could only guess was human staggered to his knees, flames wreathing his burning body. Slowly, with as much grace as a leg of Rothe, he clattered to the floor.

I approached the kid and the Merc, watching the floor for spent power packs or shrapnel casing. The heady smell of jet fuel and Nerf steak filled the air. Aw stars, I didn’t even want to think it but he smelled delicious.

 

Zul surveyed the carnage she’d caused, her face an azure mask. She glanced back towards me, those unnatural red eyes bored into and through mine. Eep, I’m not next. Then Mako padded past me, and I saw her gaze follow her companion. I remembered to breathe. She wasn’t after me. Note to self: never give her reason to.

 

“Mako, check he didn’t wipe these,” she commanded, tossing Mako a pair of data chips, apparently ignorant of the uh, the General. I tried, I really did, but he smelt awful. I’d had a lot on the shuttle to Vaiken and more in that fancy Sith restaurant. I felt it coming. Somehow, I managed to stagger over to the corner and tuck my Lekku out the way before I puked all over the floor. Mako looked pretty green too, but it wasn’t a puke reaction: she was horrified, unable to tear her eyes off the ruined guy, the corpse her friend made. The kid looked uh, well, he was probably riding the high of beating a Jedi. I hope.

 

“If the general’s crispy, are we done here?” he chirped happily at the pyromaniac. Wow, just when I start thinking of him as like a normal person, he does something horrific and reminds me that there aren’t any sane Sith. At least the Padawan wasn’t awake to see this. She shouldn’t have to see what became of her friend or what she’ll become soon enough.

 

The clanking of armoured boots clacked through the hall, and a trio of guardsmen came from behind the mercenary. I whirled, diving for cover: now really isn’t the time to get caught out in the open. The black uniforms of Imperial marines showed as they trotted down the stairs. Seeing the Sith, they skidded to a stop, clapped their boots together and bowed crisply. Oh, well at least they’re not Republic marines. Wow: never thought I’d ever say that.

“Sir, the Captain sent us in to secure the General,” the lead guardsman, a hulk who towered over everyone, asked in a voice too high pitched to be a guy. She glanced down at the uh, I really don’t want to see it again, the corpse, “I take it he isn’t coming.”

 

“Nope, but you can grab the twi’lek Jedi: she’s coming with us,” the kid announced, pointing back up towards the engine room. Her horrified expression showed through the impassive faceplate. Wait, what? He can’t be serious. She can’t come with us: she’ll wake up and butcher everyone on the shuttle. Just leave her here, and take her lightsaber as your damn souvenir. Or if you really must have to have a living breathing person as a trophy, take Hanali. At least she won’t kill us all.

 

“As you command,” the guardsman hedged, gesturing something over her shoulder with her right. Whatever the signal was, the other two troopers swivelled on the spot and marched back up the stairs. The kid turned and beamed at me. Stars, I’m at the whim of a madman, or mad-boy or whatever the real term is.

 

“So, we off?” he asked the blue-skinned monster beside us. She glanced at him, at Mako, and then at her handiwork. Her icy expression didn’t change at all.

“Yeah, we’ve done what we came for. Time to bug out,” she answered, turning for the side passage that’d take us back to the shuttle. The kid followed, skipping to catch up. Mako followed after, unable to look at the general. It was too late for me: I’d glanced back at it when the troopers arrived. Something glinted in his now-clawed hand, something long and thin he’d clamped onto. Huh, maybe it was a code cylinder, or contained something valuable enough to get me out of Sith space. Padding over to him, I nudged the thing in his blackened hand with my toe.

 

It was a hyposyringe. Immediately, I noticed three things. It was empty, it had imperial spelled words on the side and it was hot, and I mean searing hot to the touch. Jerking my foot away, I cursed as I inadvertently dumped all my weight on my bad foot. Staggering, I reconsidered whether I wanted to pick it up. It was trash and the Republic kinda knew we were here. They’d be here any moment. I left it, and ran to catch up with the others. The marines followed, the unconscious Jedi slung over the lead’s back. I did notice one of them hang back for a moment. Huh, maybe he spotted the hyposyringe too.

 

 

 

And here’s another one I wrote this morning. I was inspired by all these agent stories (and I’m sure playing ME2 again, this time as an infiltrator, helped). She’s not the agent -I’ve already tentatively introduced him in An Imperial Welcome part II- just an agent.

 

Prompt: Introductions

Title: Lethality

Character: Trill, espionage agent

Word count: 1,221 <- how palindromic

Spoilers: none, maybe general info about Hutta

 

 

There were nine of us in the squad as we trudged down the street. Osk, Esh and I made up the front line. Each of us had shield emitters strapped to our armour, plugged into the suit’s power cell. Behind, Grek, Besh and Hoth, all Gamorreans hefted their rifles, straight from his Nal Hutta factory. Rumour has it they can melt their way through lightsaber blades, but I’m not so sure. Lightsabers are energy beams, not so sure you can melt’em.

 

Out and about, Pell and Gann skulked. They weren’t part of our troop, not official like, but the boss hired’em on as extra security. Gann was a genuine Gand findsman and Pell was one of those weird what’dyacall’ems, Gotal trackers. Either way, between them we’d know about any threats long before they showed.

 

Aurek covered us with his sniper rifle, from some sneak vantage point overhead. I’m not a spotter, but I reckon its up on the control tower roof. People can’t climb that without jetpacks or repulsors, so he wasn’t gonna be disturbed by anyone. Yeah, it’s a lot of firepower for a patrol, but the boss’s shipments have been going missing in the area. We’re his elite, the best and most dangerous ******es this side of Nar Shaddaa. Personally, I reckon it’s slavers, trying to skim a few slaves and stims off the top. Nem’ro’s not above anything at this point: the desperate old slug.

 

Then it hit us. A small dart plugged into Grek’s breastplate, covering it with a sticky-slime. I almost didn’t notice at first. Who in their right mind lobs goo in a fight? Then he started screaming. Staggering to one knee, he desperately scratched at his bindings. Then I got it: the goo was acid.

 

“Form up around Grek: Pell in the middle buddy. See what you can do for him,” Osk called out and I double-timed it over to Grek’s screaming ***. Osk, Esh and I formed a ring around Besh and Pell, Grell in the middle with that screaming ***. Osk, Esh and I synched up our shields, creating a bubble around everyone: like to see it shoot through that. Looks like that was just what it wanted.

 

A grenade came flying right for us. This ain’t a problem, our shields’ll bounce it off and catch the explosion. Except this wasn’t a incendiary, high yield explosive or a frag. The grenade hit our shield, and exploded into a green cloud. The cloud filtered thorugh the shield like it was nothing. Aw Kriff. We all have breath masks, you need’em on Hutta, but this was another acid cloud. It sank down, and I could feel my armour getting hot. We needed to get out of here, but if we split up

“Aurek, you got eyes on this ***?” Osk called, a hand on his gun

 

Our mystery assailant popped out of cover, spraying us with the boxy-looking rifle in her hands. Dumb ***** didn’t reckon on our shield, but I god a good look at her. She was small and had her face covered by one of those all-concealing masks, but the long membranes covering her Lekku told me her species. She was a twi’lek. Girlie better hope we don’t catch her, Aurek likes wrecking twi’lek *****. I raised my rifle, to plug her taut little ***. Too bad Aurek: she’s mine. Then she really hit us.

 

White heat ripped through the centre of our shield wall, buffeting me out. Staggering, I felt the shield shatter, its emitters too spread out to retain cohesion or some other science-ey gibberish. All I know was it reverted to its basic setting, covering my ***, maybe another if I directed it. I whirled, training my rifle back on where she’d been, but she wasn’t there: no surprises there. Then I realised my armour bubbled. Looking down, I saw a slight cloud of bubbling gas. Aw kark me! My suit’s thicker than Grek’s, but not by much. I’d be on the ground screaming in a minute or two too, unless I ripped my breastplate off. That’s not gonna happen.

 

Pell screamed, a gurgling cry that spattered the ground in front of him with grey-blue blood. Then I saw the vibroblade sticking out the side of his neck. Damn, boss ain’t gonna be happy we lost his Findsman and his Gotal. Force sensitives are expensive to hire and keep. Wheeling, I saw Besh and Hoth down, taken out by whatever that white heat blast was. I also saw the *****, right in the middle of us. How did she get there? No matter, she’s between three of us: only need two for a killing field.

 

Esh screamed and staggered, jerking like a stunned droid, currents pulsing over her armour. I saw a vibroblade sticking out the back, right in the power cell. Little sneaky ***** opened fire, point-blank, shredding through the acid spattered breastplate. It served her right: never liked how haughty that snobby ***** was about her oh-so special armour. Yeah, it’s a newer model but it’s the same make as mine. There’s no real difference between the two.

 

Then she shiv-ed her: right in her Togrutan heart. Poor bastard was dead before she hit the ground, spraying blue-grey blood everywhere. Whirling, the ***** fired a trio of shots at Osk, ripping his shields apart. Then another trio plugged his domed Sullustan head. Always told’im he should wear a real helmet but no, he had to hear everything. Now he’s dead: damn it! Kriffing *****’ll pay!

 

I grabbed my vibroblade. ***** likes knives huh, I’ll show her a knife. I’ll plug it right in her ***** heart. Aurek can wreck all the holes he wants when I’m done with her!

“Target locked,” Aurek announced over the comms. No, *****’s mine! ***** slapped something on her waist, and shat an egg. Nah, it came off the back of her belt. She didn’t seem to care, instead slapping something on her wrist. Whatever the egg was, it exploded, searing my eyes with white light

 

“Ah damnit, flashbangs! Repeat, no sight on the-” the comm cut out. What the-, that’s impossible. I glanced up at the control tower. A white beam shot down from the heavens, blowing its top off. In the distance, I saw half a figure tumble down with it. It had to be Aurek. Was that one of the point-defence satellites? Those only point outwards! How in every hell did she manage to get control of one? Aw, screw this: I’m getting out of here! Fa’athra might wanna kill me for cutting and running, but screw’im.

 

Something spattered off my breastplate, and hot pain exploded across my chest. I’m a Wequay, we have protective plates covering our chests, but no one told the acid that. It sluiced straight over them. I staggered to a knee, rifle on the ground, ripping at the straps.

 

My breastplate came free, sizzling and squelching as I threw it in the mud. Ripping my flask of Lum-ale from my hip, I doused my chest-plates with it. Its good stuff, but it made the pain fade away. I can just get some more. A shadow loomed over me. Aw, kriff!

 

“Sorry,” she cooed, a Kaas drawl slathered atop a Nar Shaddaa accent, “no witnesses.” Then she shot me, three times in the head.

 

 

Edited June 2, 2015 by Feldraeth

[JamagsAwesome]

@Feldraeth

Thanks for your comments! Jam-ags isn’t from KOTOR, I just made him up. The funny thing about Yuun is, I don’t even have him in the game yet. I just watched a youtube video of his companion conversations.

 

I just realized I haven’t been commenting on anyone else’s stuff. I’m going off memory as to which story is which, so sorry if I call a drama funny or something.

 

Comments:

 

@nervousheroA

Failure – This is a really good story. You can just feel how miserable she is. It’s one of those that makes you just want to give the character a hug.

 

The Last Ones – Again, nice job on the characterization. Sierra doesn’t have a very nice life, does she?

 

Sensations – Heh. I’d say I know the feeling, but I never got caught. Getting candy from the fridge, that is. What did you think I was talking about?

 

@Mirdthestrill

Reassigned – Great job on this one. It’s hard to do a story about a good day, but you pulled it off nicely.

 

@Feldraeth

Reaching the General – I like how you sort of got their characters across through their fighting styles, instead of dialogue. I’m more used to scripts than novel-style writing, so I always end up using the dialogue.

 

A Debt of Freedom – Roan’s an… odd one, isn’t he? Great story, though. Now I want to copy the “Companion-in-a-flashpoint” idea…

 

Lethality – Dang, PCs are scary. Now I want to copy you.

 

@frauzet

Priorities – Interesting. I don’t really know much about the characters, but it’s still a nice interaction.

 

@Adwynyth

Lost and Found – That was hilarious. Nicely done. We’ll beat those Rotworm scum next time, though!

 

@Diviciacus

Family – Nice story, but one problem: Now I’m hungry for cherry pancakes…

 

 

Now, I’m going to do a story. I’ve been doing two per character, so more Rikynn. Jaks is in this one too. Gonna try some first-person. 615 words and no spoilers. I didn't remember that there had to be a prompt until I'd already finished this, but I guess Family and Goals and Ambitions kind of fit.

 

Scars

 

“Oh, this?” said Jaks, “I had a nasty run-in with a Sith on Taris, back when I was in the Army.”

 

“You were in the Army?” I asked.

 

“Yeah. Still would be, but that Sith, the Togruta son of a *****, almost cut my eye out. It’s a medical miracle I can still see straight. How about yours?”

 

“Mine? I slipped, and fell on some pointy rocks. That’s about all there is to it.”

 

“Come on, you’ve got to have a better story than that.”

 

“Not really, to be honest.”

 

I guess I wasn’t being honest. I do have a more interesting story, though “good” might be pushing it a little. It starts in a little house on Balmorra, with an eight-year-old Cathar kid, too young to understand that the Empire was about to swoop in and take over the place.

 

I was messing around in my bedroom, doing kid stuff. Playing with action figures, stacking blocks, that sort of thing. All of a sudden, Mom came in, and put some clothes a couple of my favorite stuffed animals into a suitcase. One of them was an Akk Dog. I’ve still got Akky somewhere. Anyway, we hadn’t planned on a trip, so naturally I was confused.

 

“Mommy, are we going somewhere?”

 

“Yes, sweetheart. We have to leave very soon.”

 

“I don’t wanna go!”

 

“We have to. It’s not going to be safe here.”

 

“Is there gonna be a groundquake?”

 

“No, nothing like that. Come on, you should get your shoes on.”

 

I went down stairs. I was pouting, but I got the idea something big was going down, and if we didn’t get out quick, something bad was going to happen. Not that it didn’t happen anyway. When I got down there, Dad was pacing. He does that when he gets stressed out. Guess that’s where I got it from. I pulled my shoes on, and went over to talk to him.

 

“Daddy, what’s wrong?”

 

“I’m not sure I understand it myself, Dax…”

 

He can be vague sometimes. And yes, I do have a first name. I just like “Rikynn” better. I do that with Jorgan, too. I should ask if it bothers him.

 

Anyway, my Mom came downstairs, and we piled in the speeder and left for the spaceport. We didn’t say much, but the speeder lanes were crowded, and everybody else looked pretty nervous, too. I thought I heard something loud, like thunder. And when I say “thunder,” I mean “the Imperials bombing Balmorran Arms.”

 

We made it to the spaceport, where everybody was loading onto a Thranta-class ship. It was crampt. There were more people than other times we’d left Balmorra, and we didn’t have to pay anyone.

 

When we cleared the atmosphere, I saw a big wedge-shaped ship out the window. I thought it was cool, until it started shooting at us. As you might be able to guess, a Harrower-class has a slight firepower advantage over a Thranta-class.

 

Mom just grabbed me and held me tight, but I could hear blaster-fire and some lightsabers. I guess they boarded us, but somehow we managed to push them off, and jump to hyperspace.

 

When we made it to Coruscant, the place was a mess. The Sacking. That’s what everyone kept saying. At the time, I imagined someone putting the whole planet in a big sack and rattling it around. In hindsight, that might have actually done less damage.

 

The way I saw it, the Republic had took us in after the Empire had tried to hurt us. The problem was that the Empire had hurt the Republic, too. I decided I’d do whatever it took to make sure that wouldn’t happen again.

 

 

Author’s Notes

 

Rikynn is my Light Cathar Male Commando.

 

I really enjoyed writing this one. I need to do first person more often. I think I’ll try it on the next story.

 

[Lunafox]

Hiya

 

Sort of getting caught up...there are not enough hours in the day to do everything I want and need to do, I swear.

But here goes, apologies if I accidentally left anyone out. Comments below:

 

 

@JamagsAwesome - 'My Name' - Nice exchange between agent and SI there, I can completely feel their pain, and especially Octavius' frustrations. If I never heard the control word in IA story again, it'd be too soon. It still creeps me out. Looking forward to more.

 

'Superior Fire Power' - Great characterizations with Trooper's companions. Great stuff!

'Scars' - I can just imagine how terrifying it must have been to escape the Imperial occupation on Balmorra, only to arrive at Coruscant to find it messed up too. Poor kid. No wonder he wasn't eager to share that story. Enjoyed it very much.

 

@Frauzet Great job, as we already discussed on Tumblr. More about Thorns and Liv is always welcome, so I hope you find time to do it. Don't fret about anything, it was great

 

@Adwynth As mentioned in Pm's I can never get enough Quinn and SW. Crew characterizations are awesome. Love this story, funny and with a great twist at the end. Thank goodness for booze to help out with the huttball matches I'll be sure to check out the other pieces you directed me too.

 

@NervousheroA 'The Last Ones' The way you write Baras, gives me chills, I can hear his voice. The crew was spot on, and I loved Vector, just perfect. I always had a soft spot for him. Interesting story, looking forward to more. Great spin on how what happened to SW would affect a relative. Have to say I giggled at 'I'll beat you with my good leg this time'

 

'Irresistible Urges' Who can blame Sierra for her chocolate cravings. Cool stuff

 

@Diviciacus Welcome to the thread! You're not a bad, you're a good! Love the interaction and intimacy with Torian and Ap. I really identified with how she felt about the Mandos, cause I felt the same way a lot of times. I swear my BH looked at Torian a few times, and just thought...please speak basic...

 

@Feldraeth 'A Dept of Freedom' Great action and description of it, and also enjoyed the characterizations. Love Vette.

'Lethality' - Again great action descriptions, you've got a talent for them I see. Very gritty. Good stuff

 

Keep it coming everyone! I know I'm a terrible lurker here, but I am enjoying everything very much! <3

 

Edited June 2, 2015 by Lunafox

[OndreBersson]

Okay, so this is my very first attempt to write in this thread, so here goes:

 

Prompt: NotLP: First Impressions

Characters: Atarik Starrider (My Powertech), Kalera Tor'in (A Cathar Jedi I made up. Not in the game)

Notes: This is a section selected from a fan fiction I am writing, "Twisted Paths", which is not currently on the site. A few things have been added that were not in the original manuscript for fluidity reasons, and some things have been subtracted since they refer to situations not in this story.

 

 

Atarik Starrider sat at the table in the Slippery Slopes Cantina, enjoying a Corellian ale. He had just completed a very difficult bounty, and there was nothing better to celebrate with than a nice drink, especially for a Mandalorian such as himself. As the liquid floewd down his throat, he imagined it carrying with it all his troubles.

Just a little bit more, he thought to himself, Just a little bit more and I can give up this gig for a while. Most people would wonder why a Mandalorian of all people would want a break from combat, but Atarik had been hunting bounties non-stop for almost a year and a half now and he was getting a little sick of it. Now, there was light at the end of the tunnel. A few more bounties, and he'd have all the credits he'd ever need. He couldn't wait to take a load off.

Atarik was about two-thirds of the way through his drink when he heard boots hitting the floor, coming towards him. They stopped in front of him, and he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. After making sure his blaster was loosened and his retractable blade ready to deploy, Atarik slid his helmet on and looked up. A tall young woman in brown robes stared back at him.

 

"What do you want?" he asked.

 

"My name is Kalera Tor'in," the woman replied, "And I want your help."

 

At first, Atarik thought the woman was joking. Then he thought she was crazy. By the robes, and the lightsaber he could make out with his helmet's X-ray scanner, she was obviously a Jedi Knight. Many years ago, the Jedi had fought against the Mandalorians. Atarik was wearing beskar'gam and a T-visor helmet, obviously a Mandalorian. Why would any Jedi in their right mind ask him for help?

"You must have me confused with someone else, Master Jedi," he said.

 

"Please, call me Kalera," the woman replied, "I'm trying to keep a low profile." She pulled a chair over from a nearby table and sat down. Atarik wondered if she had even heard his statement. She was either really brave or really dumb.

 

"Pardon me, but I prefer not to consort with aruetii," Atarik said, using the Mando'a word for outsider to try and get the stubborn Jedi to take a hint, "Especially Jetii aruetii."

 

"Please, just hear me out," the Jedi replied, "I know that Mandalorians and Jedi haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but I am in a bit of a jam and I need someone with your skill set." Atarik was taken slightly aback. It wasn't every day that he ran into someone so quick to dismiss previous conflict, especially if that conflict had been a war that had nearly resulted in the conquering of the Republic by the Mandalorians. As he pondered the Jedi's revelation, a light behind him that had so far been dark flickered briefly. So far, due to the low-lighting and the woman's hood, Atarik hadn't been able to get a good look at her face. The quick flash of light illuminated the woman's face just long enough for Atarik to get a glimpse of eyes and teeth that definitely weren't human. To make sure he knew who he was dealing with, Atarik activated the light and darkness filters on his helmet, directing it to reveal the woman's face. As his helmet's systems cut through the darkness, Atarik's curiosity gradually changed to shock. When the filter finished, Atarik was staring at the cat-like features of a Cathar. He nearly pulled his pistol.

 

"You, you're a Cathar," Atarik said. The Jedi cocked her head quizzically.

 

"Yeah, I am," the woman said, "Why?" Finally, Atarik could take no more. He leaped up and towered over the woman.

 

"Don't you realize what I am!" he said, "I am a Mandalorian! You're a Jedi, and a Cathar Jedi at that!" The woman shrunk back.

 

"I don't understand your meaning," she said.

 

"Years ago, you fought my ancestors when they invaded the Republic, then they destroyed your world, and now we are allied with the Sith!" Atarik said, "Why in the name of Mand'alor are you asking for my help! Why are we not fighting each other right now!" The woman put up a hand for him to stop and Atarik sank back into his chair.

 

"The reason I didn't slaughter you on sight is that I am a Jedi," Kalera replied, "And Jedi don't hold grudges." Atarik was surprised once again. Anyone who didn't hold a grudge about something that big was either really smart or really crazy, depending on your point of view.

 

"Plus, I don't like to judge people by what their organization or ancestors did," she continued. Atarik thought about that for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, the Jedi had a point. His outburst had been more based on the ideas of the Mandalorians as a whole rather than he himself. Atarik's grandfather and grandmother had been Neo-Crusaders, but he didn't agree with their methods. He was just as appalled at the Cathar genocide as any republic citizen, and he didn't agree with the alliance with the Sith either. He thought that the Sith were creepy.

 

"So, what do you say?" Kalera said, "Think you can put aside that Mandalorian pride long enough to help a girl out? I promise that I'll make it worth your while." That definitely got Atarik interested.

 

"All right, I'm interested," he said, "What's the job? You need someone taken out, captured, shaken down?"

 

"Goodness, no," Kalera replied. She pulled out a holoprojector and activated it, showing an image of a glowing cube. "I need you to help me find this." Atarik grabbed the projector and examined the cube. Something about it was familiar.

 

"A Jedi holocron?" he asked.

 

"Precisely," Kalera replied, "The Holocron of Furious Focus. We believe that it was stolen, and the Jedi Council has tasked me with finding it."

 

"So, why do you need my help?" Atarik asked.

 

"Because I have no intelligence as to who the thief is or where they went, and I have no knowledge of the Galactic underworld," Kalera replied, "So I have no real way to get started." Atarik understood that perfectly. The underworld was an excellent source of information, but it was riddled with corruption, greed, and backroom alliances, not to mention the gangs. The only thing that got you anywhere was a fat pocketbook or a big blaster.

 

"So, what do you say?" Kalera asked. Atarik was about to accept when he remembered something he had to do. A promise he had made.

 

"Sorry, no can do," he said, "I have a promise to keep and a thief to find." He stood up and started walking out of the cantina. Kalera was right on his heels.

 

"Let me help," she asked.

 

"Sorry, Mando business," Atarik replied, holding up a hand for her to stop.

 

 

[alaurin]

So after an rather embarrassing month I have finally updated the SFC Prompt Archive and Story Index. I am still working on getting caught up with my reading, but I did manage to eek out a few comments while updating the Index (sadly, it took a couple of hours......that's how behind I've gotten).

 

Some notes I'd like to make for all our new authors.....and yay, I love adding new people!!!! Hello, I'm alaurin and I'm currently the sucker who volunteered to keep up the SFC story index and prompt archive which the good people running these forums stickied so it's easily available. It can be a daunting task at times, especially when I get behind....like recently. Things that you all can do to help me immensely are to include some things in a blurb or such before your story (most of you did this and I greatly thank you):

 

1.) Prompt (and Title if you have one)- I either file the story by title or prompt if there isn't a title.

2.) The main character- this is who I file the story under in your section of the Index. If there are multiple characters, I'll file under the one you indicate and the rest will be in parenthesis after the title/prompt.

3.) Some indicator of chronology- Just let me know what story it comes before or after, otherwise I'll just put it at the end of that character's list.

 

Also, please feel free to message me if I've made a mistake anywhere and I'll fix it as soon as I get the chance. Probably a good idea right now since I added 4 new authors if I recall and I'll admit my spelling sucks!

 

I'd like to thank those that commented on my last contribution and now that my muse seems to have returned, I'm hoping to have a story to post here soon. I'd also like to apologize for my lack of commentary, but I've been really busy this past month......end of the year school stuff with my kids, my son in baseball, planning a birthday party for my son, having company, oh so fun yard work (allergies suck), and trying to get back into shape......because who doesn't like looking and feeling good. Anyways, I'm a month behind and am still trying to catch up on my reading, but I did manage to get in a few for the newcomers and 'returning after a long time away' folks while updating the Index so here goes!

 

Commentary Sorry, they're a bit sparse....

 

@JamagsAwesome: okay, Darth Marr costume made me giggle…..a lot! Also, another prolific one!!

 

@nervousheroA: You are so prolific!! And yes, more Pierce is always good!

 

@Mird: GAH!!!! I don’t know how I forgot to put the link in for that Girls Night In story, but its fixed now! I’m soooooo sorry about that! Also, love that look at Mallena with her family!

 

@Adwynyth: Welcome back! HAHAHA!! That’s gotta be the best ruse for stealing a bottle of Tequila I’ve ever read! Also I about lost it when Adwynyth shouted SEX at a flustered Quinn!

 

@Diviciacus: Welcome!! Awwww, warm fuzzies with Torian! I don’t see many of those and it was nice to read!

 

@OndreBersson: Welcome!! What an interesting relationship that would be…..a Mando working for a Cathar Jedi! I enjoyed his blatant honesty with her and hers as well.

 

Edited June 2, 2015 by alaurin

[JamagsAwesome]

@alurin: Thanks! I’ll try to remember those.

 

This fic is connected to Scars. It has nothing to do with the Flashpoint Boarding Action, but I couldn’t think of a better title.

 

Boarding Action

Prompt: Worst Day Ever and Advice

Characters: Umbrandis the Agent, Augustus the currently-nonexistent Warrior appears, but isn’t important

Chronology: The same time as Scars, pre-class-story

Word Count: 730

 

 

You want some advice? I can do better. Let me tell you a story.

 

It starts when I was… young, I suppose, though even then I was in my thirties. Back when my real name wasn’t just another code name I made up. Captain [REDACTED], commander of the Imperial Marines stationed on the Harrower-Class vessel the Fist.

 

Despite the rather intimidating name, the Fist wasn’t a battle cruiser. It was modified, to transport civilian occupation forces to newly conquered worlds. Extra quarters where turret controls would’ve been, that sort of thing. We really weren’t equipped to defend ourselves.

 

I was on the bridge, when it all started. A Republic ship was leaving Balmorra. It looked like it was going to jump to hyperspace soon.

 

“My Lord! Enemy vessel, outbound! Shall we attack?” said a bridge officer.

 

“It’s probably transporting refugees. It would be a waste of power,” I said.

 

I didn’t know that last part, but I frankly felt bad for them. The Sith in charge of the ship glared at me.

 

“Open fire.”

 

Lord Augustus was a big Togruta with an inflated opinion of how intimidating he was. I can look past the fact that he’s an alien, and it still doesn’t improve my opinion of him by much. Above all, he was petty. Is, I suppose. Unfortunately, he’s still alive. He never thinks about the long-term. Just the most convenient target to bully. In this case, a refugee ship.

 

He turned to me.

 

“Captain, you will gather a boarding party, and disrupt the enemy’s critical systems from the inside. And remember, I do not tolerate failure well.”

 

He clenched his hand into a fist in front of my face. Like I said, a bully, but not nearly as intimidating as he thinks he is.

 

“Understood, my Lord.”

 

“It had better be.”

 

I left the Bridge, and stopped off at the intercom.

 

“This is Captain [REDACTED]. Aurek and Dorn teams are to report to Hangar 11, Bay 38. Repeat: Aurek and Dorn teams to Bay 11-38.”

 

When I reached the hangar, they were already assembled. A large bald man with a scar stepped forward.

 

“Aurek and Dorn teams assembled, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 

On the shuttle ride over to the other ship, we could feel something was wrong. First off, was the fact that we were going to be shooting helpless refugees. That alone made me sick to my stomach. There was something else, though. Like something was trying to warn us to back off. We should’ve done it, too. When we landed, there was a Twi’lek in a cloak standing in the Republic ship’s hangar.

 

The cloak should’ve been our first clue. He didn’t look nervous, aggressive, or angry, just… stoic. There was another one. We didn’t figure out what was going on until he pulled out a lightsaber. A Jedi.

 

“I am Garell Athalis, of the Jedi Order. These people are under my protection. So long as I live, you will not pass.”

 

We didn’t. Dorn team moved to flank him, but he was faster, cutting through them like a vibroblade through shimmersilk. Aurek team started shooting, but he blocked the bolts with his lightsaber. He made it look easy. After he’d cleared out most of Dorn and the survivors went scrambling for their shuttle, he turned to Aurek. I was with Aurek. I believe my exact words were something like this:

 

“Well, kark.”

 

We were still at full strength, but I gave the order to retreat anyway. By the time they reacted, we were at half strength. By the time we reached the shuttle, I was too panicked to bother counting.

 

When we got back to the Fist, Dorn team was dead. Not killed by the Republic or the Jedi, oh, no. Lord Augustus killed the rest of them. Slaughtered them when he found out what happened. It was a mess. Blood and corpses all over the hangar.

 

Thankfully, he’d already let off his steam, so what was left of Aurek got out with just some cuts and bruises.

 

I went up to quarters.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, this area is cut off.”

 

“What? This is just the civilian quarters.”

 

“Yes, sir. They must have been trying to hit the turret controls.”

 

So, you want some advice? I don’t care whether you’re trying to fight, work, or just survive in Imperial Space. Stay away from the Sith.

 

 

Author’s Notes:

 

Umbrandis is my Light Human Male Sniper. When Togruta comes out, Augustus (or some similar name) will be my Dark Togruta Male Juggernaut. He’s not the Wrath, though. He’s just a supporting character who’s going to exist in-game at some point.

 

Alright, I think I’m gonna stop being mean to my poor characters for a little bit. I’ve got a less depressing Umbrandis story coming up next, and after that, my BH should do nicely for some more humorous stories.

 

[frauzet]

Comments

 

@Adwynyth: Definitely missed your humor and hope to see you pass through more often

 

@nervousheroA:

The Last Ones: Nice! Another piece of the puzzle. So this is where the ring came from. And I agree with Giselle, DK is not safe with Baras around.

Sensations: Nice how they blackmail each other, although I guess it wouldn't really be necessary to ensure the other sister's silence. And I suppose it didn't help in the end

 

@JamagsAwesome:

Superior Firepower: Great job with the companions! Everyone of them was immediately recognizable. Nice turn at the end.

Scars: Love this part:

The Sacking. That’s what everyone kept saying. At the time, I imagined someone putting the whole planet in a big sack and rattling it around. In hindsight, that might have actually done less damage.

That sounds very much like a small child trying to make sense of the word.

Boarding Action: I like how you wrap your story into the frame of giving an advice. And the advice is great! Many of my chars would agree

 

@Diviciacus: Welcome to the thread.

Great story. I especially like how you framed her backstory with the romance with Torian. Looking forward to more

 

@Feldraeth: *hyperventilates* Someone asked questions about my story. You made my day

Giz was devastated, not least because Io fooled him twice. (The second time was on Ord when they met again.) It will take some time before he trusts a woman again. I am not yet sure how Risha will manage to stay aboard. Then again we are talking about a treasure there.

Io's job as a dancer was one of the available ones at Giz' favorite cantina and provided all the opportunities she needed. Io could be more or less sure Giz would show up there. The guy touching her was in fact one of her associates. The rest went a lot better than planned. Giz made it easy for Io. It would have been much more conspicuous had she asked him for a job. As a sidenote: Io is not working for Imperial Intelligence. It's easy to forget about my hints when I take so long to make some progress in my story.

There is not much of "scary" Thorns. (brightephemera called him scary and I decided to keep it) Only two posts introducing him in the AU-thread here and here.

 

A debt of freedom: I like the POV. It's perfect to take kind of a step back and take a look at the havoc the main actors are wreaking. Especially the description of the effects of the flame-thrower makes it clear, that no matter how much we like our BHs, they are not 100% nice guys. Fighting is a nasty business. I take it the hyposyringe didn't belong to Zul. If so, it fits she didn't say anything, let it work for her reputation. It's always enjoyable to get an insight in Roan's thoughts, how he tries to make sense of the mad world around him. Nice application of the ingame colors there.

 

Lethality: Poor narrator, struggling so hard to make sense of what's happening and to deny the inevitable. Great way to show the superiority of your agent.

 

@OndreBersson: Welcome to the thread!

I always like it when chars are wary of each other. It is odd of her to seek his help, after all. Looking foward to find out more.

 

 

[JamagsAwesome]

I’ve seen a couple fics about the Black Talon, so I decided to make one about the other option, the shuttle.

 

Prompt: First Impressions – of Someone Else, and Boring Conversation Anyway

Characters: Umbrandis the Agent, Thralinn the Warrior

Chronology: Between Hutta/Korriban and Dromund Kaas, after Boarding Action

Word Count: 228

 

 

Umbrandis shifted awkwardly in his seat, and glanced at the woman sitting across from him. A Zabrak Sith with a pair of lightsabers attached to her belt. She didn’t look threatening, she was actually rather small, but being around any Sith made him nervous. In a cramped shuttle going all the way from Vaiken Spacedock to Dromund Kaas? He should’ve taken the Black Talon.

 

“You keep looking at me,” said the Sith.

 

This was it. He was going to die right here in this shuttle in the middle of empty space.

 

“Apologies, my Lord. It’s nothing.”

 

The shuttle was silent for a moment. The Sith appeared to be thinking something through.

 

“Is it because I’m an alien?”

 

“No, my Lord. I simply didn’t expect to be spending the shuttle ride with someone of your… station.”

 

He wanted to say something more like “Yes, I clearly cannot comprehend your species,” but in his situation, discretion was more important than snark.

 

“It’s because I’m Sith, then.”

 

“Well… yes.”

 

The Sith’s expression shifted to a smile.

 

“Don’t be so nervous. I don’t bite.”

 

“My apologies. I’ve just… lost a lot of friends to not treating Sith with proper respect.”

 

Her expression fell.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

 

“Agent Umbrandis, Imperial Intelligence. Yours?”

 

“Thralinn. Good to meet you.”

 

This shuttle ride wasn’t going to be too bad after all.

 

 

Author’s Notes:

 

Umbrandis is my Light Human Male Sniper. Thralinn is my Light Imperial Zabrak Female Marauder.

 

I’ve always introduced a companion in one of the fics about a character, so I sat through more than an hour of Agent companion conversation videos, only to come up with a story idea that doesn’t involve any of them. I guess I could’ve worked in Kaliyo and Vette, but it’s too late now.

 

[alaurin]

Comments: Look who's trying to keep up!!

 

@JamagsAwesome: RE Boarding Action- I like the unspoken tension between Force user and Force blind with Unbrandis. I'd definitely have to agree with his sentiments at the end with regards to Sith after what went down. It was also nice to see he has a conscious, something that tends to get stamped out of soldiers/agents after a while during war times.

 

RE First Impressions story- I think I'd be intimidated to be on a shuttle with an unknown Sith too.

“My apologies. I’ve just… lost a lot of friends to not treating Sith with proper respect.”

I'll bet!

 

 

 

So I finally have managed to get something postworthy (at least I hope it is). It actually got away from me a bit so I've split it up due to length and the fact I hate to bore anyone. The first part is ready and I actually posted it to my Tumblr late last night.....so have some warm fuzzies and a little intrigue with Bella and Corso.

 

Title: Welcome Home

Prompt: Family, Mysteries

Characters: Belladonya Lauren- Smuggler, Corso Riggs

Setting: Dantooine, roughly 5 years after A Simple Snatch and Grab

Spoilers: Spoilers for Smuggler story through Act 3, companion spoilers for Corso Riggs

 

warning: there's a couple risqué bits below…..but I’ve posted worse.

 

“Stars I’ve missed you and the kids so much,” Bella murmured as she snuggled closer to her husband, the couple taking advantage of having the house to themselves for the day.

 

“We’ve missed you too,” Corso smiled just before kissing her gently, happy to have his wife back home and in his arms. “I hated being apart for so long.”

 

“Me too,” Bella sighed as she began tracing a finger along the firm muscles of his abdomen, “But it couldn’t be helped. The twins are in school now so one of us needed to stay behind.”

 

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any easier,” Corso admitted, squirming when her finger traced over a ticklish spot.

 

“And it probably didn’t help that this trip took a week longer than normal,” Bella smiled at her husband as she found that ticklish spot again. She’d missed the simple things like lying in bed together, talking about the day as hands and mouths began to wander, and falling asleep in his arms after their passions had cooled.

 

The ranch she’d bought from Derek with the payout from the Imperial Treasury ship heist had become a permanent home, but she still served as a Privateer for the Republic, making cargo runs quarterly. The trips normally took ten days and until this past year, the whole family had made the trip. However once the twins started school last fall, it wasn’t possible for the whole family to go anymore. Corso took the Fall and Winter runs when there wasn’t as much work that needed to be done on the ranch and Bella took the Spring and Summer ones. Risha, Bowdaar, and Guss still were part of the crew and up until the last trip, Akaavi was as well. Then the Mandalorian agreed to help out with the new Spec Forces training facility two villages away. Once the base opened in the fall, Akaavi would be training the recruits in advanced hand to hand combat and tracking skills, something Bella was sure she was looking forward to. The others worked to oversee Port Nowhere with Bella’s partner Rogun and that’s always where her trip began and ended.

 

This trip had been different from the rest though. Bella’s youngest sister Kitannya had finished her advanced training this past winter and was now a full-fledged SIS Agent. A few weeks ago, Kit had gotten her first undercover assignment. The SIS had gotten some intel from a trusted source that the Empire was trying to infiltrate the Underworld and get a plant back in a key position. Naturally, Kit turned to Bella for help after she was tasked with going undercover and to find the agent and apprehend them. Bella agreed to take Kit with her on her next quarterly run so she could make ties that would help get her established in her cover identity as a freelancer.

 

“Nope, but me and the boys fell into a routine and I had plenty of volunteers to watch Lily whenever I needed to tend to the herd. She’s with your Ma today because I had to fix a section of the fence,” Corso smiled, “Toughest was at night…..the boys were okay with just me tucking them in, but Lily wanted Momma…..it did help when you called though. Despite that minor hiccup, we made it and you really were the best person to help Kit get ready for new assignment.”

 

“It definitely paved the way for Captain Kit Rydel to be accepted in the business and she has some decent contacts willing to hire her,” Bella murmured sleepily against his chest, “Plus I kinda owed it to her after letting it slip out that she hooked up with Jonas Balkar after finishing her training on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

“Mallay was pretty hot over that, not that I can blame her……he was her mentor after all and has a reputation,” Corso chuckled, kissing his wife as she turned her face towards his again, “So things went well then?”

 

They hadn’t said much when she first arrived, Bella having disembarked off her freighter to find her handsome husband nearby mending a broken section of the fence line, shirtless under the mid-morning sun. She’d immediately run to him, throwing herself into his open arms and kissing him fiercely as her nimble fingers began working at his belt buckle. Blushing, the easily flustered Mantellian managed to convince his passionate wife to pause long enough to get to the house. Bella's sultry laugh spurned him on when he'd picked her up before she could work his belt free, then she further teased him further by nibbling at his neck and earlobe as he carried her into their home. As a result, they only made it as far as the living room that first time, but they had the house to themselves and the rest of the Lauren family knew by now to knock before coming in while the kids were at school. Two hours later, the reunited couple was lying in their bed, content to simply be together after three weeks apart.

 

“Not bad,” Bella admitted, a pleasured sigh escaping her as Corso’s mouth lazily drifted down her neck, “Like I said, Kit’s set for some jobs as soon as she’s ready and she definitely has a knack for…..ah, that’s nice……for flying.”

 

“Anyone recognize her as your sister?”

 

“Nope, but that isn’t too surprising since other than being about the same size as me, Kit really doesn’t resemble me much at all…….mmmmm, I really hope you intend to follow through with that darlin’,” Bella gave a husky groan as Corso’s kisses traveled lower.

 

“I planned on it,” Corso chuckled, the deep rumble sending warm tingles down her belly as his lips brushed the top of her breast.

 

“Anyways, I was careful to introduce her as Captain Kit Rydel, a girl from one of the village farms who was interested in getting into the cargo running business. No one questioned that at…….oh stars….Corso!”

 

Her talented husband had reached a very nice place with that wicked mouth of his and the rest of Bella’s answer was lost as desire rendered her speechless. The lovers were once again swept away with one another as they spent a lazy afternoon making love and dozing off, neither having slept very well without the other while she’d been away. A few hours later, they woke to the alarm Bella had set when it was time to bring their children home but they were both happy knowing they’d be together once again that night.

 

“So you think this’ll work?” Corso asked his wife as they finally got out of bed, knowing the boys would need to be picked up from school soon.

 

“I do,” Bella nodded as she looked around for her clothing, “Kit’s always been outgoing like me and is really good with people. Plus I think she’s an even bigger flirt than I ever was.”

 

“I didn’t think that was possible,” Corso teased, laughing as his wife gave him a playful swat. Then he sobered, not sure how she was going to take his next statement, “I uh…..hope you don’t mind, but I did some poking around while you were gone……called a couple people I knew with ties to the Underworld……Jettison and Rona.” Corso met his wife’s gaze, steeling himself for the usual annoyance reflected in those green depths whenever he mentioned his cousin after they did a side job for her while out on a mission for General Garza a few years ago.

 

“It’s alright Corso,” Bella assured her husband, knowing what was bothering him, “I’d actually thought about getting in touch with your cousin. So?”

 

“Rona said she hadn’t heard anything, but she still has some friends in the Black Sun and promised to put some discrete feelers out. Jett actually had a good lead though.”

 

“Really?” Bella’s brow furrowed as she remembered the jittery young Twi’lek they’d rescued on Tatooine. The last she’d heard, he’d decided to find honest work and sever his Underworld ties after everything that had happened, “What’s he up to these days?”

 

“He’s back on Ord working at Rendia Freight.”

 

“It’s still there?!”

 

“Yup,” Corso grinned as he found his pants, “Turns out a couple of boys that worked for Viidu went back a few days after we left to finish out the open contracts. Some of the clients didn’t even know the boss had been killed and automatically renewed their contracts without a second thought. The boys needed the money and I’d always been Viidu’s unofficial successor, but since I’d left to chase down Skavak with you, they took the business over and kept it running all this time.”

 

“I only met a couple of Viidu’s people besides you and Syreena, but they weren’t exactly the best sort.”

 

“I remember……the guys you busted harassing Syreena right?”

 

“Mmmm, hmmm,” Bella nodded, frowning at the memory as she got dressed, “and they were lucky I was tired of killing people at that point. I’m really hoping it wasn’t those two that took over.”

 

“Nope……Jeremy and Justin Bryce,” Corso answered, “They were always good kids and hard workers. Their Pa was killed by Seps about a year before you came to Ord and Viidu hired them since their Ma wasn’t earning enough to keep a roof over their heads. If I remember right, Jeremy was seventeen and Justin fifteen when we left Ord.”

 

“I don’t think I ever met them,” Bella mused, “But that’s pretty young to be taking over a business like that.”

 

“Jeremy was pretty good with people and had a knack for keeping things flowing. Viidu often talked about having him run the hangar in Drelliad once he was out of school. Justin was sharp kid, good with numbers and had a real head for business……in fact, he used to help Viidu with the book keeping during the busy times. Justin’s a pretty good slicer too and had helped me with Reki’s datapad……remember him?”

 

“Yeah that guy in Talloran……was settled in with a bunch of women,” Bella rolled her eyes, “Sorta hard to forget him.”

 

“Reki was always the character, but he was a good guy to have on your side,” Corso nodded as he finished dressing.

 

“So what did Jett have to say?”

 

“He said it’s a long story, but there’s been some interesting rumors going around, then a freelancer had disappeared a few weeks back…..no trace at all of what happened to him,” Corso summed up, “A week later, his freighter shows up in Drelliad with the cargo. The girl that was piloting it said claimed it was her boyfriend’s ship and that he’d been killed on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

“Jett thinks it has something to do with Kit’s case?”

 

“He only said there was more to the story, but Jeremy didn’t want him to talk about it over the Holo,” Corso shrugged, “Jett admitted there’d been an incident and they were all spooked from it. He said Jeremy would like to speak with us and Kit in person though and asked if we felt up to making a trip to Ord. I told him I’d run it by you and get back to him.”

 

Bella mulled it over as they left the house and walked towards the barn where the speeders were, finally speaking after a few moments, “I hate leaving the kids again so soon, but I’ll admit I’m curious. What are your thoughts?”

 

“I think it’s worth looking into,” Corso ventured, “You only met Jett the one time and we’d just rescued him from cannibals. He’s not the bravest guy in the galaxy, but he doesn’t get spooked without good reason……so I think something big went down that they’re afraid of anyone overhearing.”

 

“I’ll talk to Kit when I go pick Lily up at the farm and see if Mom and Derek would be willing to take care of the kids for a few days,” Bella nodded as she climbed on her speeder.

 

“I’ll call Jett when I get back with the boys and let him know we’ll come to Ord as soon as we can.”

 

 

 

Author’s Note:

 

I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the fallout from Viidu’s death and how it affected those left behind. I hope no one minds.

 

To those new to my stories, Kit has made minor appearances in the Lauren girls' story thread The Love of Family Makes Us Stronger and the little holiday drabble I posted last December A Simple Snatch and Grab.

 

Edited June 5, 2015 by alaurin

[frauzet]

@alaurin: Somehow I get the indistinct feeling your Imperial undercover spy isn't going to get much farther in infiltrating the underworld than mine did. I like the mentioning of all the old acquaintances from Ord, it's nice to read about them and see what they've been up to. Looking forward to the next part

[Lunafox]

@alaurin

Mmm, very nice. I always enjoy some warm fuzzy action, especially when it accompanies a lovely slice of life, and an interesting plot shaping up. Looking forward to the next part!

[JamagsAwesome]

I’d like to get to my other legacy eventually. I think the secondary characters (there’s two of each class, but obviously only one of each can be the one from the main story) for this one are going to have to stay in the background for a little while. For the record, since none of the characters are related to each other, all the ones so far have been The Scruffy Legacy, as in Stuck-Up Half-Witted Scruffy-Looking Nerf-Herder.

 

Anyway, nothing depressing here. Just a Bounty Hunter completing a contract.

 

Title: It’s a Long Way Down

Prompt: Another Day on the Job

Character:Torno Kelborn (Torno-kelborn) the Bounty Hunter

Chronology: After class storylines.

Word Count: 567

 

 

Torno leaned out the back of the transport, and the wind whipped past his face. It was cold, and sharp, like a hundred tiny daggers flying at him. He put his helmet on. Mako walked up to him.

 

“You do realize this is one of the crazier things you’ve done, right?”

 

“No.”

 

Mako paused for a moment.

 

“You’re right, I guess it’s not. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

“We both know that’s never stopped either of us before.”

 

“If you say so. Just make sure your boots are working before you go. I don’t want you going splat when you get down there.”

 

“Yeah. Where’d I be without me?”

 

“Where’d I be?”

 

“Out of a job, for one thing.”

 

“Have I ever told you that you have a massive ego?”

 

“Once or twice. Now hang on. We’re almost over the compound.”

 

Torno stood up, and Mako put her hand on his shoulder.

 

“Good luck.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

He walked to the open door in the back of the transport, and held up his hand, splaying his fingers. Five. He folded his thumb in. Four. Pinky. Three. Ring. Two. Middle. One. Index. Zero.

 

He threw his fist forward and leapt out of the transport, twisting in mid-air to angle downward.

 

So far, so good, he thought.

 

He winced slightly as he fell headfirst through a cloud. Almost there. As he passed out of the cloud, he could see the compound right below him. He went spread eagle to slow his descent slightly, examing his surroundings. He’d never liked Alderaan. It was a pretty planet, and he didn’t trust pretty planets. They’re the ones with the most to hide.

 

On the bright side, where there’s a lot of things being hidden, there’s a lot of things to be found. And where there’s a lot of things to be found, there’s a lot of people to be found. That was Torno’s specialty, and it was a lucrative one at that.

 

Take Count Gren, for example. He was the patriarch of a small, but formerly Imperial-aligned Alderaanian house. That is, until he stole a sizable chunk of House Thul’s treasury and ran off to a heavily-defended compound out in the wilderness.

 

Among the other displays on his HUD showing ammo, physical condition, heat level, and the like, a flashing green dot appeared, and began to turn yellow. Torno shifted in the air again, so that he was falling feet first, and activated his rocket boots. The dot turned orange, but then started going back to green as his descent slowed to a manageable pace. The dot turned fully green and disappeared.

 

He drifted down until he was a couple meters above the roof, and stopped. He extended both hands towards the roof, and squeezed his fingers together in a specific manner. A volley of rockets flew out from his gauntlets and punched a hole in the ceiling. He switched off his boots and dropped through.

 

He landed on the ground with a thud, and looked up. An elderly man with a goatee was sitting at a desk, drinking tea. Somehow, he’d landed in Count Gren’s office. He’d have liked to have said he planned that, but he hadn’t.

 

The man placed his cup down on the desk, and clapped slowly.

 

“You’re very dedicated, mercenary.”

 

“Dedicated? Nah.”

 

He pulled out his blaster.

 

“It’s just business as usual.”

 

He pulled the trigger.

 

 

Author’s Notes:

 

Torno Kelborn (Torno-kelborn) is my light-unless-dark-pays-better Human Male Powertech.

 

I really hope you had as much fun reading this one as I did writing it.

 

 

 

Comments:

 

@Alaurin: Hmm... I'm interested to find out about this Imperial Spy. Also, I like warm fuzzies.

 

Edited June 4, 2015 by JamagsAwesome
Forgot some stuff

[Striges]

Happy Third Birthday, SFC!

 

Week of June 5, 2015

 

The Short Fiction Challenge turned three on Monday, June 1. In honor of that achievement this week’s challenges are:

 

Milestones:Milestones are more personal than Rites of Passage or Turning Points, both previous prompts. It's something significant for your character, something they might mark, independant of holidays, formal anniversaries, or rituals. The day your character finally paid off a loan--or the day they took one out to finance their dream. The first time your character felt like they belonged among their peers--or when they realized they never would. Their last drink, their first dance, moving out, moving on. Tell a story about your character reaching or remembering a personal milestone.

 

 

Mixed Doubles: Combine any two prompts you like and write a story! For added fun, choose randomly. Three years of prompts means more than 150 prompts to pick from.

 

Night of the Living Prompt: Keep on using any prompt you like! Check out the list at http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=7489974post=2 and http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=7489991post=3 (yes, we’re up to two full posts!). Many thanks to Alaurin for maintaining these lists.

 

With so many previous prompts it seems a shame to feature only one. Starting this week SFC will feature TWO NotLP prompts. Happy writing!

 

This week's featured NotLP:

Advice - In a galaxy this big there are a lot of problems to solve and there’s plenty of wisdom, given and received, to help deal with it. Your character is experienced. What advice would she give a newcomer seeking to follow her footsteps? What would he tell his children? Did a mentor give good advice? A rival? Did your character follow it? Was it useful? Prompt courtesy of Striges.

 

Culture Shock - The galaxy is a big place, and it's home to a wide variety of different cultures and species. It's not easy working with someone who may look similar to you, but comes from a radically different culture - not to mention being friends or even spouses with them. Revisit the first ever prompt!

 

Got an idea for a prompt? Send me a pm!

[JamagsAwesome]

Awesome! And unless someone else posts before me, this makes me the first story of SFWCT’s fourth year! I’m… honored, actually.

 

Title: 100

Prompt: Milestones

Characters: Torno Kelborn (Torno-kelborn) the Bounty Hunter

Chronology: Shortly before It’s a Long Way Down, still post-class stories

Word Count: 381

 

 

Lord Sharnal ran out onto the landing pad, and towards the speeder. He was almost there. Suddenly, a large ship rose into view, engines blazing. Sharnal jumped slightly, and backed off. The door he had come from slid open, and a heavily-armored man stepped out.

 

“So. What’ll it be? Me, or that?” he said, gesturing to his ship.

 

Sharnal drew his lightsaber.

 

“Why do you care, why does it matter to you whether I live? I’ve offered you credits, services, what do you want?”

 

“What can I say? Darth Octavios has a lot of money. Now, are you going to come along quietly or is this going to turn violent?”

 

“I am Sith. You cannot stand against me.”

 

“You keep tellin’ yourself that,” said Torno, firing a rocket at the Sith.

 

Sharnal reached out with the force, diverting the projectile upwards and away from him. He lunged at Torno who rolled past him, whirled around and fired his flamethrower. Sharnal threw himself backwards away from the fire, but winced as his face was singed.

 

Sharnal extended his hand, and Torno was thrown back towards the other end of the landing pad. Torno stood up and started shooting at Sharnal, who deflected the shots easily.

 

Torno was preparing an explosive dart, when he felt his throat constricting. He was lifted off the ground.

 

“Now, can you see the power of a true Sith?”

 

“Kriff you.”

 

Sharnal threw him at the ship, and Torno fell out of sight.

 

“And you as well, Bounty Hunter.”

 

Sharnal walked over to the edge of the landing pad and looked down. To his surprise, he saw the armored form of Torno, floating by his rocket boots just below the landing pad.

 

“Boo.”

 

He extended his hand up toward Sharnal, and blasted him with carbonite, freezing him.

 

Meanwhile, on the Mantis, Mako, Gault, Torian, Blizz, and Skadge gathered around the holoterminal. Torno appeared with the frozen form of Lord Sharnal.

 

“This is it, everyone. My – our one hundredth contract.”

 

They cheered.

 

“I couldn’t have done it without you. Yes, even you, Gault. I’m sure you did something useful along the way.”

 

Gault folded his arms. Torno laughed.

 

“Anyway, I’m gonna go turn this guy over. The point is, thanks. Thank you all. For everything.”

 

The hologram cut out.

 

 

Author’s Notes:

 

Torno Kelborn (Torno-kelborn) is my light-unless-dark-pays-better Powertech.

 

Edited June 5, 2015 by JamagsAwesome
Formatting error

[nervousheroA]

@JamagsAwesome: There's something about the way you write that fascinates me. It looks simplistic on the surface, but is actually very solid. Nothing really gets in the way of what you're trying to describe, and I love all of it.

 

As for the new prompts, holy cow, that's a lot!

This is gonna take me a bit.