The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[YoshiRaphElan]

Well, I thought I'd post something new since...yeah, as I mentioned before, I miss the old days of lots of activity in this thread. So, I came up with something!

 

I decided to start writing about another of my legacies–the Carrick legacy (Jasin, Prudii, Gareb, Dankin, Methic, Tran'thar, Dha, and Merok) kind of feels like it's starting to get crowded–timeline-wise. So, here's a new one! Introducing the Holt legacy!

 

Prompt - Allies

Title - Wakey, Wakey!

Class - Jedi Knight, Smuggler

 

 

Kira-Rey Holt–usually called "Rey," since she had a Padawan named Kira and that was just confusing for everyone–hadn't known what she was getting into when she left Tython. Oh, the battling Sith, the endless hours of work, the rigorous mental strain of attempting to train an apprentice–those had all been expected, more or less. What Rey hadn't been ready for was meeting up with her sister again.

 

Reela Holt was not Force-sensitive, unlike Rey. Reela had grown up to become a smuggler. Rey and Reela were about as different as two people could be. Where Rey was reserved, kind, and warm, Reela was known to be impulsive, outgoing, friendly but snarky, and cold to anybody who crossed her. Rey had been a strict rule-follower; Reela had never met a rule she liked. Rey was dark-skinned and dark-haired, with dark eyes (she resembled their mother); Reela was pale with shocking red hair and green eyes (she resembled their father). Their only similarities were their facial features and hairstyles.

 

Rey hadn't seen Reela since she'd been taken to the Jedi Temple as a teenager. She'd hoped, somehow, that her sister would reform. When she met her on Coruscant during a raid on Black Sun territory, she'd initially thought Reela was working with CSF or the Republic military.

 

Nope. Reela was a smuggler.

 

And since they'd met up on Coruscant, Reela hadn't left Rey alone. Rey didn't mind that; she was more than glad to be around her sister again. But sometimes...little sisters could be difficult.

 

Such as now.

 

Rey groaned as a hand shook her shoulder. She reached for her sheets and started to pull them off. The Defender was parked on Taris; she, Kira, and T7 were waiting for Governor Saresh's permission to operate freely on the planet. She had decided to get some shuteye until they got that call.

 

"Wake up!" an all-too-familiar voice said.

 

Rey popped her left eye open. "Wut."

 

"Wake up!" Reela repeated. She shook Rey's shoulder vigorously. "Call just came in from Saresh's people; you're free to operate on Taris."

 

"Buh..." Rey sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Why are you here?"

 

"Oh, Corso and I were out doing something for Beryl Thorne and we got back right before nightfall. It's dangerous to operate on Taris at night so we came back here until morning."

 

Rey rolled her eyes, pulled the sheets off, and sat up. "I guess we'd better get to work then."

 

She walked over to her closet and pulled out her tan Jedi garb, about as different from Reela's vibrant red leather jacket as could be. Reela stuck her tongue out. "Your clothes are boring."

 

"I'm a Jedi. Fashion isn't a part of the equation."

 

"Should be. How can you save the galaxy looking like a beggar?"

 

"I do not look like a beggar."

 

"Okay, the shoulder pad's kind of nice, but...tan, K-R? Really?"

 

Rey buckled her belt and clipped her lightsaber to it. "Forget my outfit, Reela. Let's go. I sense that Rees is eager to get going."

 

Rees Akela was a fellow Jedi Knight, a friend that Rey had made while on Tython. Of course, as soon as Reela met him, she'd simultaneously been all over him and suggesting Rey should be all over him. Reela waggled her eyes at the mentioned of the Twi'lek man.

 

Kira strode by the door. "Rey, Reela, Rees...what's with all these 'R' names? It's confusing."

 

"Trust me," Rey muttered. "We're all as different as could be."

 

 

 

So, the Holt legacy consists of:

 

Jedi Knight: Kira-Rey Holt (human female)

Jedi Consular: Rees Akela (Twi'lek male)

Trooper: Trip (human male)

Smuggler: Reela Holt (human female)

Warrior: Adosar (Cathar male)

Inquisitor: Suhil Landrender (Pureblood male)

Bounty Hunter: Ewan (human male)

Agent: Allana Kaban (human female)

 

Edited January 23, 2017 by YoshiRaphElan

[Jagaimee]

 

"Wake up!" an all-too-familiar voice said.

 

Rey popped her left eye open. "Wut."

 

"Wake up!" Reela repeated. She shook Rey's shoulder vigorously. "Call just came in from Saresh's people; you're free to operate on Taris."

 

"Buh..." Rey sat up and rubbed her eyes

.

 

Haha, I know what THAT feels like. "I don'...wanna...wake uppppp...whasss yor problmemmmmmmmmmm [zzzzzzzzz]"

 

Can't wait to see where all this is going - and the inherent hilarity of getting peoples' names constantly mixed up. The contrast between the two sisters is brilliant.

[YoshiRaphElan]

Prompt - Planes, Trains, and Thrantamobiles

Title - Saddle Up!

Class - Smuggler

 

 

While Rey and Kira and Rees and Qyzen did their "Jedi business" (Reela hated that term; it sounded so snotty), Reela and Corso tried to locate the object Risha needed from Taris. Beryl Thorne had indicated that a Devaronian named Tyrodall probably was after it too (he had worked for Beryl but faked his death). They'd found Tyrodall and discovered that their target was in Zone Zero. So now Reela and Corso were headed out to find it.

 

They'd taken a speeder to Morne Outpost, the farthest the speeder service would take them. They talked to the outpost commander, and he informed them that the problem was that the fumes farther into the swamp messed with the vehicles, and they often died before the return trip, leaving the passengers stranded until help could arrive.

 

"If you want to get out there, talk to the requisitions officer," he said.

 

Reela scrunched her nose and gave him a glare while his back was turned, but she sulked out of his office with Corso. The requisitions officer saw them exit the building and jogged over to them.

 

"I hear you need transportation into the swamps," she said.

 

Reela nodded. "We're, um, looking into a case in Zone Zero. Your boss said that no speeders can go out that way. That true?"

 

"Yes, but worry not. We've got a way to get you out of there." The officer gestured for them to follow her and walked to a short, wide building on the edge of the outpost. "Ever ridden a kybuck?"

 

Corso answered first. "No, but I've ridden similar animals back on Ord."

 

For once, Reela was grateful for her humble upbringings. She, too, was familiar with riding animals rather than vehicles. The requisitions officer opened the building's doors and led two kybucks out. The dark-furred animals resembled jungle versions of taun-tauns.

 

"They make good time," the requisitions officer said. "In fact, if your, um, case is riding a speeder, you might be faster than he is, if his vehicle has been affected by the swamp gases."

 

Reela grinned. "Nice."

 

She pulled on a wide-brimmed hat and mounted one of the kybucks. "Saddle up, Corso."

 

Corso's grin was child-like in its joyfulness. He shoved Sergeant Boom-Boom, his rifle, into a holster on the saddle. "You got it, Cap'n."

 

The kybucks really did move. Reela clutched the reins as tightly as she could to avoid falling off several times when the animal leapt to clear a tall rock formation or pit of quicksand. There was something about riding animals like this that just got the adrenaline pumping.

 

Soon, Reela thought she heard the sound of a speeder up ahead. Sure enough, before long she could see more than one of the vehicles on the horizon. The requisitions officer was right; they were quickly gaining. She reached for her blaster. Maybe she could take them out.

 

She tired to keep her hand steady, although the bouncing of the kybuck was difficult to compensate for. But before she knew it, she was just meters away from the speeders. She squeezed the trigger. The speeder she hit swerve, bounced, and crashed into a tree. Corso used his sidearm to take out another speeder. That left three.

 

They were rapidly approaching Zone Zero.

 

One of the mercenaries (they must've been working for Skavak) turned and returned fire, although he didn't hit either of them. Reela fired again. The lead mercenary's speeder swerved and crashed, but he leapt free. The other two mercs stopped their speeders and ducked behind them.

 

Reela and Corso halted their kybucks. Corso jerked Sergeant Boom-Boom from the saddle holster and shouldered the rifle. The three mercenaries poured fire at the smugglers. The kybucks panicked and ran for cover. Reela ducked behind a tree and Corso knelt next to a boulder. They poured fire on the mercs. One bolt tore through Reela's hat. She growled.

 

That gave her an idea, though.

 

She took her hat and hurled it into the air. Then, she rolled out of cover. The hat distracted the mercs for a split second. She fired two shots into the chest of the right-most merc and he dropped. Corso took out the other mercenary, leaving only the leader behind.

 

"Give it up!" Reela shouted. "Drop it, drop it!"

 

He kept his blaster steadily trained on her. Corso's rifle didn't waver a centimeter. Reela waved him down with her offhand. She faced the mercenary leader and narrowed her eyes coolly.

 

"I guess we'll just see who's a faster shot," she said.

 

"Guess so," the merc rumbled.

 

In the tense silence that followed, Reela kept her finger pressed over the trigger...but didn't squeeze. Yet. She intended to prove she was the fastest shot on the Rim. Maybe it was some trace of the Force that her sister had, or maybe it was years of instinct, but Reela could see the merc's finger tighten ever so slightly.

 

She fired. The merc's shot went wide, over her left shoulder. Her shot didn't miss.

 

"Nice shooting," Corso murmured.

 

"Thanks, farmboy." Reela flourished her pistol and holstered it. "Go find those kybucks. We need to get to that vault and get back to Risha."

 

 

 

I heard a song with the lyric "saddle up your horses" on Wednesday and ever then I've been in sort of a Western mindset. That is to blame for this story.

 

[Venn_Dras]

Title: The Greatest Man He Never Knew

Prompt: Turning Point

CharactersF!Smuggler, Unknown Smuggler, Corso

 

 

 

The Greatest Man He Never Knew

 

He wonders why I stay. Its become a fixture in eyes that were once like warm chocolate; but now glow like the a full moon on a starless night.

 

I could. That's part of the life of being a smuggler after all. No attachments. That's rule #1. I should be able to leave him behind; to continue my adventures gallivanting across the galaxy without a care in the world.

 

But I won't. I can't. And all because of the greatest man he never knew.

 

He found me on the streets of Nar Shadaa, I remember that much. I had tried to pick his pocket.

 

It ended up being the best mistake I ever made.

 

He could have turned me over to one of the dozens of so called "security patrols" running around the planet . I would have ended up either tortured for the fun of some indulgent Hutt or in some **** hole of a holding cell never to see the light of day again. Instead I found myself indentured to a smart *** smuggler who had a weird addiction to bantha milk. Yes, bantha milk. Whisky, scotch I could understand; but bantha milk? He made sure to have at least a case or two of the stuff on ice at all times. But, I'm getting off topic now aren't I?

 

He said I was to become a sort of space ship cabin boy. Do all the things he didn't feel like doing. Clean the ship, wash dishes and what not. At first he had me cook, but after the first meal, I was officially banned from even touching any cooling utensils. Of course the fact that I tried to warn him, made no never mind to him.

 

In the beginning I did everything with the attitude of a petulant child. Trying to see how far I could push his buttons became a hobby to stem the boredom of continuous ship cleaning. But as days turned to weeks things took a subtle change. In the middle of dish washing, he'd call me over to help him repair a panel that had come loose or ask me to look up a map from the the ship's computer so he could plan the fastest route to our next destination. Things only got stranger from there. It got to a point where he began taking him with him on his deals and I began to realize what a genius he actually was.

 

A quick turn of phrase, a quick nudge here or there and he had them eating out of his hand.

 

For the most part.

 

There were times where a quick exit was on that days unexpected agenda. But for all the bad that happened with the good, that smile on his face never wavered.

 

Even after Taris.

 

It was my fault. The guilt still gnaws at me even after all these years. Every now and then the nightmare of that day fills me with such terror that I find myself waking up in a cold sweat. Let me tell you, sweaty fur is not comfortable. One of the main reasons I prefer to wear less restrictive clothing. Well, that and the fact it gives me an edge during negotiations.

 

It was a typical stop and drop delivery, or so we thought. With the recent surge in Empire activity the Republic base we were to deliver to had been moved to a less developed region of the planet. And, of course that meant that landing a ship near said base would be impossible. The only option to deliver said goods was by speeder sans cart.

 

It was during that trek where everything changed.

 

We had stopped to make camp. Since I was barred from cooking, I was regulated to checking on the cargo. Unfortunately I was so focused on checking the ropes and securing any stragglers that I didn't hear them coming at first.

 

By then it was too late.

 

They came out of the shadows , charging through the brush, snarling like rabid dogs. I managed to hit the ground, and duck the first one. Shooting a second with the blaster at my hip. I managed to climb on to the supplies crates behind me before shooting another who was attempting the same thing. From my vantage point, there were four in total. Two of which that smart *** smuggler was taking on. He had blindsided one with the frying pan he was cooking with and was now holding off the other withe his trusty shotgun. Pushing the beast back with a dirty kick, he quickly finished it off with a bullet spray to the chest. I dropped down from the crates , a smart assed remark about his unorthodox use of a frying pan on my lips. He turned to me, a grin of his own on his face.

 

Which quickly disappeared.

 

Next thing I knew I was on the ground, the smuggler on top of me. A loud gun shot next to my head leaving my ears ringing. It took a minute to realize what had happened.

 

I'd missed one. So busy was I watching his take down of the two others, that I failed to noticed one more behind me. Pushing myself out from underneath, although I got off lucky, he didn't. A large bite mark covered his forearm, already giving off the horrible smell of infection and oozing what I could only describe as a toxic residue. Even I knew what a bite like that foretold.

 

Death.

 

I'd seen too many holo recording, heard to many stories of what happened to people who'd been bitten by rakgouls. Even if we made it to the base, they wouldn't let us in. There was no cure. They weren't even close to one.

He told me to go on without him, that he wouldn't have decided any differently had he known this would happen. Taking me in was the best decision he's ever made and for all the years we spent together, he wouldn't trade a minute of it for all the credits of the galaxy.

 

But I refused. I couldn't leave him. So, eventually he gave up. We sat there for hours as he told me stories of before we'd met. Some of the best deals he'd made, his greatest escapes, and best of all; the most amazing things he's seen while traveling through the galaxy.

 

And his smile never wavered.

 

Even as I could tell that the change was growing ever closer, that he was beginning to lose parts of himself within the beast. He and I both knew that the end was coming. Eventually he told me that I needed to go, using the excuse that I couldn't leave our job unfinished. It would ruin the reputation he had so painstakingly built.

 

That's the last time I ever cried.

 

He joked that he never thought I'd be so sentimental. That it ruined my snarky, smart assed reputation. But his calloused hands still wiped those tears away with a gentle touch and a grin that still lit up his face; despite the excruciating pain he must have been in.

 

That's an image I'll hold with me til the day my own journey ends.

 

I love Corso, I'll probably never say it, but I do. I've never met anyone more stubbornly set in their convictions about black and white, right and wrong. His innocence and honesty in matters of the heart is both sweet and frustrating to say the least. Some how without my noticing it, he whittled a hole into my heart and just as easily sealed it up behind him.

 

That's why I will stay by his side through all the the whispers, the looks, the pain and the nightmares. He once asked me why I never thought about settling down, and I told him the truth that day. From the day that smuggler died, I relied on myself and me alone. My ship was my home and a part of it always will be, though he's now taken that place for his own.

 

Smuggler would approve of him. He's also probably laughing up a storm on the other side right now. Me all lovey dovey over a man, who'd a have thought? I certainly didn't see it coming.

 

He wonders why I stay. And maybe someday I'll tell him, about the greatest man he never knew.

 

 

Notes:

 

This is another take on the if the player used the Infected customization. In this case the infection happens during the Smuggler's class story. Think Rakgoul resurgence event.

 

Edited January 30, 2017 by Venn_Dras
fix

[Jagaimee]

@YoshiRaphElan: Corso and a female smuggler are always great.

Kybucks are...scary. In-game, zoom in with the camera until you're staring right at their eyes. Their...yellow...glaring... demon eyes... o_o (My sith marauder keeps one around just so he can creep out his friend. )

Anyway! The ending, specifically this part, is awesome:

 

 

That gave her an idea, though.

 

She took her hat and hurled it into the air. Then, she rolled out of cover. The hat distracted the mercs for a split second. She fired two shots into the chest of the right-most merc and he dropped. Corso took out the other mercenary, leaving only the leader behind.

 

"Give it up!" Reela shouted. "Drop it, drop it!"

 

He kept his blaster steadily trained on her. Corso's rifle didn't waver a centimeter. Reela waved him down with her offhand. She faced the mercenary leader and narrowed her eyes coolly.

 

"I guess we'll just see who's a faster shot," she said.

 

"Guess so," the merc rumbled.

 

In the tense silence that followed, Reela kept her finger pressed over the trigger...but didn't squeeze. Yet. She intended to prove she was the fastest shot on the Rim. Maybe it was some trace of the Force that her sister had, or maybe it was years of instinct, but Reela could see the merc's finger tighten ever so slightly.

 

She fired. The merc's shot went wide, over her left shoulder. Her shot didn't miss.

Classic smuggler. Wonderful writing, too.

 

@Venn_Dras: Okay...this part, I absolutely melted.

 

 

Even as I could tell that the change was growing ever closer, that he was beginning to lose parts of himself within the beast. He and I both knew that the end was coming. Eventually he told me that I needed to go, using the excuse that I couldn't leave our job unfinished. It would ruin the reputation he had so painstakingly built.

 

That's the last time I ever cried.

 

He joked that he never thought I'd be so sentimental. That it ruined my snarky, smart assed reputation. But his calloused hands still wiped those tears away with a gentle touch and a grin that still lit up his face; despite the excruciating pain he must have been in.

 

That's an image I'll hold with me til the day my own journey ends.

 

I love Corso, I'll probably never say it, but I do. I've never met anyone more stubbornly set in their convictions about black and white, right and wrong. His innocence and honesty in matters of the heart is both sweet and frustrating to say the least. Some how without my noticing it, he whittled a hole into my heart and just as easily sealed it up behind him.

 

That's why I will stay by his side through all the the whispers, the looks, the pain and the nightmares. He once asked me why I never thought about settling down, and I told him the truth that day. From the day that smuggler died, I relied on myself and me alone. My ship was my home and a part of it always will be, though he's now taken that place for his own.

 

That was beautiful. You have a way with words that's just amazing.

...excuse me, there seem to be invisible ninjas in the room cutting unions under my nose... I--I'm not crying. Nope. No. Why do you ask. >_>

 

 

Prompt: Confessions. Ish. Is there a prompt for "two girls yakking about backstory?"

Character: Seraji, bounty hunter (again...)

Spoilers: Mako talking about how she met Braden.

 

 

“How do you know them?”

 

Mako looked up from her datapad. “Hm?” The light from the screen glinted off of her cybernetic implant.

 

Seraji rolled over onto her stomach, muscles protesting every movement. Despite her soreness and the late hour, she wasn’t tired yet. Besides, she was curious. “Braden, Jory, Hunsi… how do you know them?”

 

“Oh. Ah… pretty much the same way you met them?”

 

“You tried to shoot Braden and Hunsi scared the crap out of you with a few simple words?”

 

“O…kay, well, maybe not.” Mako giggled. She had a nice laugh. It wasn’t annoying like Dromund Kaas socialites, all high-pitched and breathy; laughing for the sake of laughing, aren’t-I-cute, sounding like a little girl. “I met Braden when I got on the wrong side of a gang on Nar Shaddaa. Left me bleeding in an alley.” Mako rolled one shoulder back. “Braden found me and took me in. He’s…kind of like my father.”

 

Seraji remembered her own father. “But Braden’s kind,” she said without thinking.

 

…silence.

 

Seraji looked up to see Mako staring at her with a very odd expression. “Never mind,” Seraji mumbled. “What about Jory and Hunsi?”

 

“Jory came with Braden. Sort of. He’s just always…been there, in the background.” Mako swung her legs up to her own bed and lay flat on her back, putting the datapad down by the side of the bed. “And Hunsi…I kind of got in over my head one time. Some thugs tried to rob me. I fought off a few, but there were just way too many – and then Hunsi was there. Blitzed in, flattened the gang and left them all unconscious, then just…asked if I was okay, I said yes, and he walked away. Braden later got in touch with him.” The dim light filtering through the window blinds illuminated Mako’s puzzled frown. “I kept wondering how Braden knew who Hunsi was – I just said he was a chiss with scars over his eye – and then Hunsi shows up again at Braden’s request. Weird.”

 

Something about that story was bothering Seraji… the bed creaked as she settled onto her side, and she once again hoped this rickety old cot wasn’t about to collapse underneath her. Or squeak so much in the middle of the night that she and Mako wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was weird sleeping in the same room as someone else again. At least she had her own bed this time, and Mako wasn’t a holy terror like her sister had been. “Wait…Hunsi left the gang unconscious? He didn’t kill them?”

 

“Nope. Just punched them into oblivion. I was surprised, too.”

 

“Huh,” Seraji muttered. A few strands of hair settled onto her ear, which instinctively flicked to get the ticklish feeling off. “Would’ve thought Hunsi would’ve just…blasted them all.” Maybe that had been what he was talking about. “Mad at other people – you lose control. You see red. You wake up from that, realize people are dead. Don’t ever do that.” Seraji felt morbidly curious how Hunsi had come to that conclusion.

 

“What about you?”

 

Seraji looked over to see Mako sitting up in her bed, rearranging the covers so she could crawl underneath. “I mean, Braden said you tried to kill him and was more of a danger to yourself than him. He wouldn’t say anything more.” Mako glanced at her. “Normally, I’d avoid you like the rakghoul plague. But Braden seemed pretty okay with it. So…what happened?”

 

Seraji winced. Her first instinct was to snap none of your business…but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to alienate Mako. And besides, the whole thing happened two years ago. She was better at hunting now, but it still made her skin grow warm and her hackles fluff up. She forcibly smoothed them down and reluctantly started talking: “A Hutt wanted Braden dead because…it was a Hutt. Who knows why. Nobody else would take the contract. I did, because I needed the money. I couldn’t figure out why everybody was either laughing at me or offering to pray to whatever gods they worshiped for my safety. Marched out of there declaring I’d bring Braden back in a coffin. I found him easy enough – he was in the nearby spaceport – and…and I found out I’m a lousy shot with a rifle…missed by a mile when I was standing twenty feet away, made a lot of noise, and Braden shot me without even looking.”

 

“He did what!”

 

“Then he saw I was a kid and panicked a little. Or a lot. He got me bandaged up – it wasn’t a bad injury – and then taught me how to shoot a sniper rifle. And then he taught me how to make that Hutt’s life a living hell for a while as payback.”

 

Mako gave a laugh – a rather incredulous sounding laugh. Seraji smiled at the sound. Mako was laughing at her story, not at her. “That’s…well, that’s Braden,” Mako said. “And that whole story’s so downright bizarre that, if not for you just telling me, I’d say it happened in fiction somewhere.”

 

“Aw, come on…” Seraji pulled the covers over her. “Good night, Mako.”

 

But even as she turned over, away from Mako and her innocent laughter…she was still smiling.

 

 

[MishaCantu]

@Jagaimee Nice continuation of your bounty hunter story. It sort of gives an insight into her life, and also the others in the merry crew. Hunsi seems to be a mystery worth solving. I liked the way you described the little things, like the cot squeaking, and also the hidden smile that Seraji had at the end. Like maybe, she had found a friend at last.

 

I am really enjoying these little tales by you and @YoshiRaphElan. They don't take a long time to read, and I find them to be quite enjoyable.

[Jagaimee]

@MishaCantu: Thank you! Seraji has (by now) looooooong since completed her class story (she's part way through KOTFE, actually), but I'm just now going back and writing stories about it... mostly due to Hunsi's interruption. He as a character appeared one day, long after Seraji's story was over and done with, planted himself in these stories, and firmly refused to budge. -_- Oi. Hopefully one day I'll get around to explaining the enigma that is Hunsi...

As for Seraji, it's hard to drop hints about her life and experiences without either going overboard and just blurting it all out, OR being *so* vague that it gets annoying. e_e

 

Prompt: Life or Death; Turning Points

Character: Seraji

Spoilers: Bounty hunter's prologue on Hutta

 

Note: Seems this piece of music -

- is highly appropriate for this story...

 

 

There was a spring in her step that hadn’t been there for a while now. Seraji bit the inside of her lip in happy anticipation as she headed down the back corridors of the cantina. The smell of spice and smoke and alcohol and drunk aliens didn’t bother her so much now; it wasn’t that she’d gotten used to it, so much as she had learned to filter it out of her mind. Just ignore it.

 

Well, mostly. There were some scents she couldn’t ignore. Like the acrid smell of blaster discharge. Seraji shook her head. Someone had had a shootout, and she hadn’t been there to see it. Too bad. She would have wanted to know the outcome: if there were such crimes punishable by police here…or whatever passed for police…or if anybody would be punished. Who knew, maybe shootouts were as common as—

 

…breathing…hold on a minute.

 

Smoke was wafting out of the room Braden used as headquarters. Smoke, and the sting of blaster discharges.

 

Seraji’s heart crashed against her throat in sudden fright.

 

She crouched low on instinct, moving as quietly as she knew how with her armor. A hunter, a predator, like Hunsi had taught her. Her ears perked up, struggling to catch any sound, but there were none save a very faint sizzling noise. And even that might not have come from that room, but from the cantina nearby. Discordant music was still thumping out from the lower levels.

 

Seraji closed her eyes and concentrated hard, all her senses straining towards the room, slowly filtering out any other sound, or smell, or taste.

 

She couldn’t feel Jory’s heartbeat – he was a Nikto, large heart, and easily excited besides. Usually his heartbeat was stirring her ear fur all the time when she so much as stood in the same room as he.

 

She couldn’t scent Braden’s warm, comforting smell, or Hunsi’s air of cold alertness. Or Jory, again – but she could scent the wine he usually kept nearby. Still fresh, because it had a sweet tang to it that soured quickly once opened.

 

She couldn’t hear anyone moving about, or talking. No footsteps, no swish of fabric against metal, no clink of armor, no squeak of leather.

 

Seraji opened her eyes and her hand fiddled about on her blaster’s grip. She crept forward until she was at the threshold of the door, heart pounding – oh stars don’t let anything have happened to them; she was vaguely surprised she cared – and then she threw herself around the door frame, blaster out and pointing at anything that…

 

At…at anything…that might…

 

…challenge…her…

 

Oh stars.

 

Burned holes dotted the walls and ceiling and floors, smoke still twisting up from them. The furniture was pockmarked with bolt holes, some chairs overturned, the couch on its back.

 

Jory’s limp body was sprawled across the table he normally sat at, head turned to the side – his eyes were still open, but they were too still, the pupils not reacting to any change in light, his expression frozen in shock and fear.

 

Braden was on the floor, face down, arms wrapped around too many wounds on his stomach and chest.

 

Hunsi was sitting slumped against the wall, eyes closed, his longcoat spotted with still-shining blaster wounds – one hand still gripped his pistol, the barrel still glowing as though he’d fired off one last shot before his death.

 

Seraji’s own pistol hit the floor. Her hands were shaking too badly to hold anything. Her knees went limp and she wobbled down to the ground, legs tucked underneath her, as she stared in horror at the dead bodies of her team. Her…her allies. Friends.

 

…family.

 

“No…no no no…” It took her a moment to realize those were her words, whispering from a throat tight in grief. “No, dear stars, no…” Not Braden. Jory. Hunsi.

 

How…? …who?

 

Grief began to give way to a boiling in her veins, a pounding red haze in the back of her head. Her fists clenched, spasming with the shock and adrenaline bursting through her nerves. Whoever did this would pay dearly.

 

“Braden! Hey, I’m back!”

 

The chirpy voice sent a jolt through Seraji as effective as any lightning bolt. Her nerves simply overloaded and she twitched around, losing her balance and awkwardly catching herself with one elbow on the ground. “Ma—“ Her voice cracked. “Mako,” she tried again. “Mako, d-don’t come in here…”

 

“What? Why not?” Mako appeared at the doorway. “What’s so—what thhh…” The human girl’s eyes went wide, and her dark face paled. Seraji had learned to recognize that as a sign of horror or shock or fear. All three, maybe. “Wh…Braden…?” Mako cautiously moved into the room, eyes on her fallen mentor. Seraji numbly scrambled out of her way, clinging to the wall to help her get her balance back. “Braden,” Mako said again, in a voice broken with tears. “Braden…no…”

 

The human girl ran to the old Mandalorian and frantically shook his shoulders. “Braden!” she half-sobbed, half-yelled. “Braden! Wake up! Please, please wake up! No…” Her words gave way to full-on crying. Then, abruptly, she looked up at Seraji. Her eyes were wet but fury shone through them. “Did you do this?” she hissed. “Who did this!?”

 

“Did—“ Seraji instinctively bared her teeth. “No! Why would I do this!? I just—I just found them all here…just a few minutes ago. The—the wounds, they’re still fresh – this happened right before I got here…” She struggled to her feet. Her legs were still wobbly, and her stomach was still clenching uncomfortably, but she made her way – slowly but steadily – to Hunsi’s body. The chiss’s face…there was a single tear pooling in the corner of his eye. “Hunsi,” Seraji whispered. Her heart felt like it hit the floor. “You tried to protect them, didn’t you…”

 

She reached up to wipe away the tear – and as she touched the chiss’s face, she realized, he was still warm. Seraji’s ears perked up. She could still faintly hear his heartbeat – or was that the music bleeding in from below? Seraji leaned closer. No. It was Hunsi’s heartbeat. “Mako – Hunsi’s alive!”

 

“Wha…?”

 

Seraji cautiously tapped the chiss’s shoulder, careful not to jostle his extensive wounds. “Hunsi? Hunsi! Wake up!”

 

Hunsi’s eyelids fluttered. A brief gleam of ruby red shone out from underneath his eyelids, then just as quickly disappeared. But even something brief was better than nothing. “Mako, where’s a medic?”

 

“Th…” Mako took a shaky breath, stirring the too-still air in the room. “Nem’ro’s palace, p-probably…”

 

Seraji pushed off of the ground and shot out through the door, arms pumping, willing herself to go as fast as she could, focusing everything on where she was going. She burst out of the cantina and pounded down the boardwalk to Nem’ro’s palace. Hunsi had saved Mako’s life once; now Seraji could save his.

 

--*--*--*--

 

Seraji found Mako on the roof of the cantina. The human girl had shown her, a few days before, how to get up there without alerting anyone else to their presence. It was…nice, up there. They could be free of the obnoxious music from the lower levels, free of the smoke and smells, free of anyone bothering them. There was the general stench of Nal Hutta itself, but that was tolerable up here. It was a nice view, too; for what counted as “nice” on Nal Hutta. It overlooked the forested copse of trees and the distant swamps. From here, one could see the sunset.

 

Right now, the sun was setting on Nal Hutta, disappearing behind the “glorious jewel,” Nar Shaddaa.

 

Mako was sitting down, watching the last rays vanish over the light-flecked world ahead of them. “Hunsi?” she asked, voice still wavering from hours before.

 

Apparently she’d heard Seraji… then again, it wasn’t easy to move quietly on a metal surface. “The medics say he’s still in danger,” Seraji reported. She carefully sat down beside Mako and looked over at the girl. Her face was wet with tears that hadn’t yet dried – and her eyes were still fluttering. Her nose was red. She’d been crying for a long time. Seraji’s shoulders slumped. “Did…did you find anything about who did this?”

 

Mako nodded jerkily, swallowing hard. She scoffed in quivering anger. “Yeah. The…here.” She held up a portable holocomm. “I—I downloaded the security camera footage on here…then I destroyed it in the old room.” She sniffed. “Not going to be needing it anymore…” A distant sleen bellowed a call as Mako fiddled with the holocomm.

 

The device lit up. There was an overhead view of Braden pacing about the room, Jory sitting at his table, and Hunsi leaning against the wall. “…think they’ll be okay?” Braden asked.

 

Jory laughed as he opened a bottle of wine. “<Boss, you worry too much. Mako can take care of herself. And Seraji’s a born hunter, you know tha—hey!>”

 

The side of the holocomm flickered, and three people marched into view. Hunsi had his pistol out and aimed in an instant. Two of the people aimed rifles right back at him. The third merely folded his arms. Seraji studied his image. A human man, tousled blonde hair, was that makeup on his face?...and wearing gleaming Mandalorian armor, too shiny and new to have seen any real danger. Seraji felt her lips peel back from her teeth in a reflexive snarl. “Braden. Still hoping to win the Great Hunt? With…what, these rejects?” His voice was alarmingly deep for a man who looked that girly.

 

“These ‘rejects,’” Braden said grimly, “are going to doing a hell of a lot better than you will, Tarro Blood. Are you trying to win again?” The old man shook his head. “Your dishonorable ways and cultural posturing got you disqualified once. For your sake, let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.”

 

“Oh, it won’t.” Tarro Blood laughed. Seraji had heard spice-addled Hutts with better laughs than that. “At least, not that you’ll know of.” He motioned to his guards.

 

One fired at Hunsi – who was already firing back, dodging and twisting to the side. Jory died instantly in the other guard’s stream of fire. Braden was two seconds too slow in retrieving his blaster. He caught most of the blaster bolts and stumbled back to the table, eyes going wide briefly then slowly closing as he slumped to the floor.

 

Somewhere past the low buzzing in her ears, Seraji heard an enraged scream. Like an animal that’s been hurt…or maybe like a mother bear seeing one of her cubs be killed. Hunsi barreled toward the guards, shrieking in a language Seraji had never heard. The chiss’s face contorted in rage. Seraji blinked away from the sheer fury, as though it were a physical force pouring out of the recording.

 

Tarro Blood backed away, and his two guards poured streams of bolts at Hunsi. The chiss staggered back, his own pistol still blazing, but his shots were going wide now. Seraji saw something splatter the wall behind him and she cringed. No wonder the chiss was still in critical condition… Hunsi slid down the wall. One of the guards aimed his rifle, but Tarro Blood held up a hand. “No need. Even if he lives – and I doubt it – he’ll be out of the running, possibly forever.” Blood smirked. “Too bad we didn’t get your precious slicer prodigy,” he mocked Braden’s dead body. Seraji’s hackles bristled. “Or the little runt-of-the-litter who calls herself a hunter. We will, don’t worry. You’ll all be together again in the Manda, how sweet.” With another wave of his hand, Tarro Blood swept out of the room, followed by his lackeys.

 

The recording kept going, showing nothing but the still room. Hunsi didn’t move an inch. Nothing moved. Then, barely a minute later, Seraji herself whirled into the room, pistol pointing frantically at any phantom threats, wavering and then stopping entirely when she saw the bodies…

 

Mako clicked off the holocomm.

 

Seraji stared at the silent device. The images replayed over and over in her mind. Tarro Blood, a Mandalorian. His guards were the ones to actually do the deed, but he’d ordered Braden’s death…Jory’s death…Hunsi’s death. A Mandalorian. Those…rotten…spineless…mass-murdering despicable sons of…of… Seraji couldn’t think of a curse strong enough to describe them.

 

“There goes the Great Hunt,” Mako said softly. Seraji glanced up to see the girl staring off at the glittering planet above them. The fading sunlight glinted off of the metal structures deep out into the swamps of Nal Hutta – glinted one last time and then died. “The Great Hunt…Braden’s dream…any chance we had of getting off this rock…” Mako’s head drooped. “Seraji,” she whispered, “I barely even have the credits to feed just ourselves for the next few days – never mind paying for Hunsi’s recovery, if he lives…”

 

Hunsi. His words, days before, came back to Seraji.

 

“Don’t. Give. Up.”

 

“Then we get that sponsorship.” Seraji surprised herself with the strength behind her words. She immediately regretted saying that, but there was no going back now. Getting the sponsorship, how? It was just her and Mako now, no Braden to gently guide them, no Jory to manage their pitiful accounts and keep them in high spirits with all his lame jokes, no Hunsi to watch over them and offer advice. Just two young women in one of the worst places in the galaxy.

 

Mako raised her head, strands of black hair splashing down over her face, as she blinked quizzically at Seraji.

 

“If Nem’ro sponsors us,” Seraji went on, trying to reason through her brash statement, “then…then we at least get transport off of Nal Hutta. We get entry into the Great Hunt. That means credits. Credits we can use to—to keep us going and to help Hunsi…and…umm…uh, you still have those targets on this planet, right?”

 

Mako nodded. “Yeah.”

 

“Then we’ll get on those. Tomorrow morning. After we – we bury Braden and Jory. We keep going.” Seraji looked straight into Mako’s eye, hoping desperately that she could keep up a façade of confidence. “We keep going, because Braden and Jory would want us to, because Hunsi’s counting on us – because we don’t have any other options. We just…just keep going.”

 

Mako’s expression didn’t change, but there was a tiny gleam in her eye. A silent okay, Seraji. I trust you.

 

The last of the sunlight silently flickered away.

 

 

 

Edit: Procrastinating on schoolwork does wonders for writing. Now, back to grammar lessons.

 

Prompt: Goodbye

Character: Seraji

The next day, following the above story, so the same spoiler warning still applies.

 

 

Nobody should have to be buried on Nal Hutta. It was too humiliating. Seraji patted dirt down over Jory’s coffin. It was a crude thing – they both were, just boxes, really, but it was all she and Mako could find. Seraji hated that. Even her brother, an alien servant in the heart of the Empire, had gotten a more honorable funeral than this. Being buried on Hutta was too degrading even – or especially – for a Mandalorian.

 

Mako straightened up from the other coffin – Braden’s grave. “I think it’s done…” Her voice was low and still heavy with tears.

 

Seraji sat up. The space they had chosen to bury Jory and Braden in wasn’t any prettier than the rest of Hutta – but it was isolated, and it was high enough above the swamplands that the ground was dry. It was the best they could do. “Do Mandos have funeral rites or songs or something?”

 

“Thought you hated Mandalorians.”

 

“I…” Seraji rolled her shoulders back, ostensibly to get a knot out of them, but in reality more to disguise her discomfort. “…yeah,” she finally said. “I—I do. But…Braden was…different? He…wasn’t like other Mandos. They’d tell me they’re sorry they didn’t completely wipe out the cathar three hundred years ago. Braden…didn’t, he just…he…he…” Was normal. Was kind, even. Treated her like she was a person, not a scraggly undergrown furball, not a moving target practice, not a thing. “And he was your mentor, too,” she added, awkwardly stumbling over her words. “But he didn’t try and…and—do whatever Mandos do with their kids, brainwash them or…I—I don’t know.” She shook her head, suddenly frustrated. “I don’t know. He was just different.”

 

Mako was silent. Seraji looked over to see the other girl standing silhouetted against the rising sun. Her head was down, though – still looking at Braden’s rough grave. The swamplands beyond were silent still; the day hadn’t warmed up enough to wake the sleens, or rouse the akk dogs from their dens. Soon there would be a chorus of animal noises, but for now it was silent. There was just Mako, all alone on the hilltop, Nar Shaddaa’s glittering veil slowly fading behind her, and the sickly trees wavering in a weak breeze.

 

All alone.

 

Seraji slowly rose to her feet. No, not alone. Not anymore. Cautiously, careful of the freshly disturbed dirt that marked Jory and Braden’s graves, Seraji made her way over to Mako’s side. “We can do this,” she said quietly. She hoped she could back up her words.

 

“And hope Jory and Braden are proud,” Mako whispered. Seraji saw tears gathering in her eyes again.

 

Seraji didn’t know what to do. Didn’t people usually hug each other at times like these? She…didn’t really want to hug Mako. So she finally settled for hesitantly putting a hand on Mako’s shoulder. Was that too weird? If anyone did that to Seraji, she’d think it was her father about to backhand her again – a false show of comfort just to mess with her. But other people didn’t have fathers like that, and she’d seen Braden put his hand on Mako’s shoulder and Mako didn’t seem to mind, so…

 

Mako barely noticed.

 

They stood there for a long time, watching the mudflies emerge with the rising sun from their hiding places under decaying pieces of grass, buzzing over the graves, and moving on. Hearing the swamplands wake up – a sleen gave a hoarse call, and an akk dog bellowed a snarl in response. Jiguuna, behind them, was slowly beginning to bustle with the usual activity. A ship’s engines coughed to life, then died.

 

Seraji realized Mako was saying something under her breath; a halting, stuttering phrase: “…nur kyr—kyr’adyc, shi…taab’echaa…aa’jla…” Her voice broke with tears again. Seraji recognized a few scattered syllables as Mando’a, but she didn’t dare ask what they meant. That was between Mako and Braden's spirit—

 

Mako abruptly hugged Seraji, resting her head on the smaller girl’s shoulder, shaking with silent sobs.

 

Seraji just stood there. Arms out to the side. Blinking.

 

Then, eventually – slowly, unsure, moving with stuttering motions – she hugged Mako back.

 

 

 

Mando'a translation:

 

"Nur kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la" is a traditional Mando'a phrase for someone who is dead. It means "not gone, merely marching far away."

 

Edited January 31, 2017 by Jagaimee

[Jagaimee]

Two months since anybody posted here!? Hey now.

 

Prompt: Background Music. Specifically,

Characters: Cipher Nine, Vector Hyllus

Spoilers: Implied spoilers for the aftermath of the agent's Act III, and minor spoilers for a conversation with Vector

 

 

“Agent.”

 

The woman once known as Cipher Nine looked up at her husband. “Yes?” Vector only called her agent when there was something important to discuss. Other times it was beloved, or – in a playfully ironic twist – cipher. Not as a callsign, but as a play on words: a cipher, a mystery, a puzzle to work through.

 

“While we are on Alderaan, we have business with the Oroboro nest,” Vector said, in that blandly polite, stilted tone Nine had come to love. “Several of the fingerlings have expressed their desires to see life beyond the stars. They would not be welcome, of course, on public transport. We wonder if they may be transported in the cargo hold of the Starwhisper.”

 

Nine thought about it. A frost-scented breeze whispered softly over her face, and the Alderaanian sunlight was weak: hints that winter was fast approaching. The killik nests would be bundling down in their catacombs and hives, preparing for the long cold sleep. “I don’t see how it would be a problem,” she finally said, “as long as they stay in the cargo hold. I don’t have any issues with the killiks aboard the Starwhisper, but I doubt Lokin would appreciate it if anything happened with his work in the medical bay.”

 

Vector smiled. To some, the smile might appear creepy, disjointed. In a world where so many things weren’t what they seemed, however, to Nine the smile was warm and comforting. It was unique, just as Vector was unique. “We understand completely, cipher,” he said. “And we share your views. The fingerlings are easily excited. But we will keep in close contact with them and make sure they are not disrupting to harmonies aboard the ship. The Starwhisper will be here for a few days yet – we will take that time to accustom them to the Song’s pulse, unique as it is aboard our home.”

 

Nine leaned against Vector, her head resting on his shoulder. Standing up, the two were nearly the same height, but sitting down as they were now, and with Nine being a little farther down the hillside than Vector, it was the perfect height to nestle against her husband. Her one bastion of sanity in a galaxy gone mad. Vector wrapped his arms around her and held her close, as they watched the Glaarus Valley, shrouded in fog and shot-through with sunlight, far below them.

 

--

 

Nine wearily climbed the steps to the main hallway of the Starwhisper. Her morning walk with Vector was a pleasant diversion from her responsibilities, but now that night had fallen, she had to get back to them – get back to the drudgery and the overwhelming load that a galaxy full of secrets presented her with. There was a civil war brewing in a sector close to the Empire’s territory; she needed to pull all the strings she could to not get the Empire involved in it. And there were three dangerous force-sensitive bounty hunters on the loose near Coruscant. Pleasant as it would be to let them rampage through the Republic’s capital, there were former Intelligence operatives still stationed in the SIS – putting their lives in danger was not an option. Besides all that, the war between the Republic and Empire still raged. That situation changed almost hourly. She needed to be on top of everything.

 

Nine steeled herself for another long night as she stepped into the empty corridors of the Starwhisper. Vector was already on board, in the cargo hold, settling down the fingerlings, probably. Lokin was ensconced in his laboratory/the medbay.

 

She glanced down the hallway towards the cargo hold, expecting to see the light on or hear killik chittering…but she heard nothing and saw nothing. That wasn’t unusual: Vector often turned the lights off for meditation... She was curious, though. Not worried – the ship was entirely secure and even if it wasn’t, anyone trying to sneak aboard would have Lokin to deal with (if not Cipher Nine herself) – just curious. And a few seconds’ digression from her looming duties wouldn’t hurt.

 

She silently stepped through the hallway and down towards the cargo hold. The light spilling in from the hallway didn’t illuminate much, but she did see the faint reflection of insectoid eyes looking curiously back at her. A killik. “Hello, little one,” she whispered. The killik chittered delicately in response, then came skittering out towards her – it barely reached her knee. Years ago, Nine would have been a little unnerved by this. By now, however, she had gotten used to it. Even welcomed it.

 

The little killik waved its forelegs up at her, chirping quietly in its alien tongue, then tugged on her pant leg while scuttling backwards. Nine let it lead her into the cargo bay, and the killik scampered off into the darkness. Nine reached for the lights—

 

“Don’t turn on the lights, beloved.”

 

“Vector.” Nine peered into the shadows. Chiss had excellent night vision, but even this was proving too dark for her to see into. “What’s going on?”

 

“We wish for you to join us. If you please.” Vector’s voice was soft and low.

 

Normally, this would be a prelude to an ambush. But it was Vector – and she trusted Vector. That thought, in and of itself, was so alien a concept that that almost worried her. But she stepped forward, into the shadows, and the cargo hold door swished shut behind her. Now the only lights came from the dim runners around the floorboards. “Vector?” she asked again.

 

“Look, beloved…”

 

Lights appeared.

 

A multitude of tiny, faint, star-like globes, floating around the room. Nine’s eyes widened. Little killiks were nestled on the crates and boxes, holding lights as small as a marble and as large as an orange. Lights of multiple colors – velvet reds and yellows and oranges and greens and blues and purples – glowing orbs dancing about the room. And…humming. No, singing. The killiks were singing.

 

Vector stood near the center of the room, watching Nine, the lights reflected in his eyes. He was smiling, his arms raised as if gesturing to the killiks. “We wanted to surprise you,” he murmured. “Distract you from the burdens you bear, if only for a little while. We are sorry for the slight deception, but…it was necessary. We hope this is…acceptable.” He paused, lowering his arms, his smile fading somewhat, and tilted his head inquisitively. “Do you like it?”

 

Nine slowly spun around, taking in the sight. The softly glowing orbs made the room look like the crystal caverns of Chandrila – an ocean reef, deep beneath the waves, the light from above wavering gently – a rainbow appearing in the sky after a thunderstorm. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. She couldn’t find any other words.

 

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Vector. He took a step back, then reached towards her. “Will you dance with us?” he asked. Again with that thin, warm, beautiful smile.

 

Nine couldn’t help but smile, too.

 

They slowly spun in a graceful waltz, illuminated by the glowing orbs, serenaded by the humming, alien singing of the killiks.

 

 

Author's note

 

It's...incredibly rare to find this lady Cipher in a mood like this. Usually she's...well, Cipher Nine. Cold, impersonal - downright sociopathic at times. She didn't used to be like that, but she is now. The only time she's like the above is when she's with Vector. A very rare moment of pure sweetness.

On another note, I apologize for all the cavities you now have thanks to reading this sweet-sappy fluff.

 

[Lunafox]

@Jagaimee

 

That was really beautiful, stunning actually. I could totally envision everything you described and it was a very romantic story. I loved it. I'm willing to bet Misha would love this too!

 

Nice work Jagaimee, very nice indeed. I also appreciated that your agent tends to be cold, until Mr. Hyllis warms her up.

[MishaCantu]

@ Jagaimee It seems that you and I think of Vector in much the same way. This writing was quite lovely and I enjoyed your detail with the song and the dance, very descriptive and alluring. The delicate way he presented his gift to her, waiting for her approval, was quite endearing, and very much Vector.

 

Well done, well done, indeed.

[frauzet]

It's always nice to see a new post on this thread. It's still home to my writing despite me posting mostly in my own threads now, if that makes any sense

 

I agree with the others. This was lovely.

[Jagaimee]

@Lunafox: Coming from you, that means a lot to me. Thank you. I'm...pretty terrible at writing romance, usually (a "romantic" scene between my warrior and Quinn wound up reading like something out of a Jane Austen novel [and by that, I mean everybody's so stoic you could set off a bomb underneath them and they'd take five minutes to flinch]). But this...managed to be decent? I guess?

 

@MishaCantu: Thank you! Vector's kind of easier to write than a few other companions...but at the same time, some of the things he says are so out there that it throws your mind for a loop. The song of the universe? Now I'm kind of glad we never hear what it sounds like, or even a description of it, in-game, because that opens up a lot of possibilities for HEADCANOOOON GLOOOORIOUS HEADCANOOOON (...sorry, broke into a song there ). Hence the song I linked to - the humming in the background just sounded...perfect, for the killiks' singing.

The agent gets sooooooo much crap thrown their way...my gal needed a break. She gets so very, very few of those.

 

@frauzet: Why thank you! Wish more people would come and post in here! There are so many good writers/storytellers/people with great imaginations out there (looking at all of you, Quinn fangirls)...

[alaurin]

So yeah, it's been a while......a long while. I wish all the new authors (I know there were at least 2 I had to add into the index yesterday) and lurkers a warm welcome. For those newer to the thread, I am the keeper of the SFC Prompt Archive and Story Index. After going a horrifying 11 months without updating that sucker, I can finally say it is now up to date as of yesterday. I will do my best to not get so behind again since it is a good way to catch up on a storyline, original characters, and/or an author that you particularly enjoy. These next couple of months will be busy for me as a parent with baseball practices/games, band/choir practices and concerts, end of the year field trips and parties......oh and trying to squeeze as many subbing days in as I can before the school year ends, but I should at least be able to update the index a couple times a month. Once summer hits, I should be able to devote more time to keeping the index current, but some things all you authors can indicate in your story post to help me file your works correctly include:

 

1.) Title or Prompt: Titles aren't necessary but if you include one, that's what I'll file your story as. Otherwise, I'll file it as the Prompt(s) you choose.

 

2.) Main Character: Most of us write about more than one OC, I just need to know which one you'd like me to file the story under.

 

3.) Timeframe: Just let me know if your story comes before or after one you already have listed so I know where to put it. If no timeframe is indicated, I'll just put it at the end.

 

While we have no set format here in the SFC thread, having those 3 things in your post make my sometimes daunting task so much easier.......Mirdthestrill really comes to mind. I love you Mird, I can typically file one of your stories in less than a minute!!

[alaurin]

Now with the Indexy business taken care of, time for some fun. The muse paid me a long, overdue visit and I have a story to share! While lately I've been writing solely for my shared story thread with Kit'ar, I have 2 other legacies that can be found here in SFC land (they have their own threads as well but it's been a long time since I've updated them ). This story is for trooper Tia, who I feel the need to warn those new to my fics is a slightly different take on the storyline......Trooper Ord Spoiler:

She chose to go with Tavus when Havoc defected to the Empire in order to bring the traitors down from the inside.

 

 

With that being said, hope you enjoy!

 

Title: Doing What Must Be Done

Prompt: Working out the Kinks, Limits, and definitely Spring Cleaning (this one’s been sitting in my unfinished fic folder for at least 2 years)

Character: Tiannya Vleska-Trooper, Aric Jorgan, Elara Dorne

Setting: Tatooine, immediately following A Necessary Risk

Spoilers: Trooper Tatooine

 

Warning: Definitely some innuendo/ risqué conversation below....

 

The robed figure eyed the two soldiers for a moment, then ducked into a nearby alley as a crowd began to gather. Several cheers were going up for the Republic Spec Forces squad who’d just saved several lives by diffusing a massive threat, a second wave of tampered droids that was set off to destroy what was left of the complex the first wave hit. A cunningly cruel tactic that her ‘superior’ had developed…..blow a civilian complex and wait for first responders to show up before setting off a second blast. Only the explosives were hidden inside common protocol droids, this time at least. She knew for a fact that the stuff her former squad mate had developed for the Imperials could be put into just about any droid or vehicle. So many emotions washed over her, anger at Fuse for going along with the Havoc traitors in the first place, disgust at Gorik that he cared so little for innocent lives, fear that she wouldn’t be able to find a way to stop further attacks, but the prominent one was relief. Relief that she was no longer alone. Relief that she had some heavy duty backup. Relief that she could now begin to put her plan into motion.

 

Banking on Fuse still attempting to make contact with the mayor, Tia decided to leave Anchorhead without making contact herself since her main reason for doing so was to find out when Havoc arrived on planet. With that already established, she decided not to risk being spotted and snuck out of the city. Besides, Tia could easily use one of the comlinks she’d pilfered off of a couple pirates who’d made the fatal mistake of thinking she was an easy target to contact Aric Jorgan herself. That would be a last resort though, since any voice contact could be heard and possibly recorded over his armor cam. Very few people knew Tia hadn’t really defected with the other Havoc traitors, and for the security of the mission as well as her own safety, it was best kept that way. It was a big enough risk for her to send him messages via stolen datapads that she destroyed after the fact, but an actual call was pushing it. However, the first step of her plan required Havoc to make an appearance. As soon as she got far enough, Tia pulled her rented speeder over and contacted Colonal Gorik with the latest news.

 

“Sir, I made it to Anchorhead,” she told her ‘superior’ when his image appeared on her comlink, “but bad news on that front, Havoc Squad is here and they stopped the second wave.”

 

“Blast,” the commander swore, “Why is Republic Spec Forces on Tatooine?”

 

“Can’t say sir, thought it best I get outta there before I was spotted.”

 

“Understood Sergeant,” Gorik sighed, his frustration written all over his face. “I can’t risk them tracing those droids back to the source. Are you still in the area?”

 

“I’m just a few kliks outside of Anchorhead, sir.”

 

“Good, I want you to go to the Geonosian bunker nearby and make sure they’re ready in case of an attack. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but there’s always a risk with outsourcing labor like this. Credits have a way of making people talk.”

 

“That’s true, sir,” Tia agreed, “But Geonosians aren’t ones to make friendly chit chat with other species.”

 

“You have a fair point,” Gorik conceded, “but it still doesn’t hurt to make sure defenses are fortified in the factory just in case. In the meantime, I need to figure out what to do about Havoc Squad. Report back to me after you’ve seen to the factory’s security, Sergeant.”

 

“Understood, sir,” Tia saluted, “I’ll head there immediately.”

 

Tia heard her datapad chime and saw that the Commander had sent the coordinates for the Geonosian factory. She quickly programmed them into the speeder’s navigator then put her datapad back into her pack along with her com. Thrilled that Gorik was playing right into her plan, a broad grin spread across her features as she started the speeder back up, Oh I’ll get that bunker ready alright. A few minutes later, she was racing over the sandy desert back to Dreviad, hoping that droid had kept its promise to watch over her broken speeder.

 

It didn’t take long before the Geonosian complex was in sight. Tia parked the speeder near a large cluster of rocks, grabbed the large backpack she’d packed several kilos of detonite bombs in, then walked the rest of the way to the building. She found the Geonosians inside and quickly filled them in on the recent developments. Kyvax, the one in charge, asked if they needed to halt production. Tia insisted the chances of Spec Forces finding them were remote and assured Kyvax she was there to keep the factory secure at all costs. The tall insectoid looked doubtful, but granted her request when she asked for access to the upper level in order to make preparations just in case Havoc did show up. Tia instructed them all to keep working as normal while she handled the potential threat. The Geonosians complied, figuring the Cathar soldier would be at risk more than they were, and went back to work building the bombs, allowing Tia to work without interruption.

 

She casually walked around the main part of the factory, pausing from time to time to slip a hand into her pack and place a bomb along the way in key, hidden areas while she pretended to study the room. The small devices blended in with the equipment easily and wouldn’t be spotted unless there was an inspection, which wasn’t likely to happen before she blew the place. Then she slipped into the back room, which served as the storage area and planted several of the devices inside some of the crates, then took the rest upstairs to plant the rest of her stash, wanting to make sure all the computer terminals in the offices were obliterated. No way was she going to risk Fuse’s designs falling into any more hands. For a brief moment, Tia felt a flicker of remorse for the Geonosians, but the she reminded herself that they were fully aware of what they were making and how it was being used. They didn’t care about the innocent lives that were lost, a few were even amused by that latest attack on Anchorhead and even suggested they look at expanding their territory if the Imperials decided to test the droids on the nearby Republic outpost.

 

“They’re just as bad as Needles and his sick experiments,” Tia muttered, biting her lip as she focused on her task. But who made you judge, jury, and executioner? She paused for a brief second when that guilty thought popped into her head and wondered once again if she was becoming a monster. Suddenly Tia wished she had someone to talk to, someone to tell her what to do, but just as with Taris, she was on her own. Swallowing hard to clear the lump forming in her throat, the young soldier set aside her emotions so she could do what had to be done.

 

Tia gave a sigh of relief as she placed the last one, then sat at one of the terminals and pulled a small remote out of her pack. She turned the device on, smiling when she saw all twelve lights come on…..her little toys were armed and ready to make some noise at the press of a button, which she would do as soon as Havoc was present. All that was left was to contact Aric so he could make that happen……because if the factory were to blow up all the sudden for no apparent reason, her superiors would wonder why. However, if Havoc were around, the Imperials would assume the squad took the factory out. She’d simply tell Aric to contact her when Havoc reached the outskirts of the Geonosian complex, then wait downstairs and pretend to be keeping an eye out for hostiles. As soon as Tia got his call, she’d slip out of the factory and blow the place sky high as soon as she was at a safe distance. Thrilled her plan was going to go off without a hitch, Tia dug out one of the stolen comlinks and put in the number Kat had given her while they were on Nar Shaddaa. She was about to hit the call button when she happened to glance out the office window and much to her surprise, she spotted Havoc approaching.

 

“Kark me, she hissed as she stuffed the comlink back into the near empty pack and readied the remote, “they got here quicker than I expected……Fuse must’ve contacted them and spilled the beans!”

 

Not wanting Havoc to get inside the blast radius, Tia jammed her helmet on, activated her shield, and bolted down the stairs. Dammit, this isn’t going to be fun, she cringed inwardly, ignoring the chittering of the Geonosian workers she pushed past as she made her way through the factory. Please Gods, let me survive this, she prayed as she sprinted through the doorway, hitting the switch on the remote as she did.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“According to Fuse, that’s the factory,” the tawny Cathar pointed at the bunker nearest to the towering cliffs.

 

“I don’t see any guards at the doors, but there are several small patrols. What’s our approach, sir?” The blonde human asked, lowering her microbinoculars.

 

“If Fuse is right, then they don’t have any actual Imperial backup,” Aric replied, “Just their own people and while they can be tough and good with tech, they aren’t nearly as organized in a fight. Forex could easily distract the patrols long enough for you and I to enter the complex and raze the place.”

 

“I am eager to do my part in eradicating this threat to innocent civilians everywhere and to crush those Imperial loving insects, sir!”

 

“Easy Forex,” Aric shook his head, “We’re not here to stamp out a species, just to take out that facto-“

 

“Imperial soldier!” Elara called out, spotting a lone figure clad in Imperial armor running out the front door, “Fuse was mis-“

 

Elara’s statement was interrupted by a ground shaking explosion that was enough to knock them both over. They both covered their heads as the factory they’d been headed towards was a towering inferno. Unsure of what caused the factory to blow or if there was more to come, a shaken Aric got to his feet and staggered towards Elara. He cringed at the carnage all around, certain that none of the patrols had survived.

 

“What the hell?” Aric swore as he helped his medic up, the blast still ringing in his ears.

 

“Look, sir,” she pointed, shock making her face even paler.

 

Aric gaze travelled to where Elara was pointing and spotted a figure staggering out of the fireball that used to be the Geonosian factory a moment ago. Elara was certain it was the same Imperial soldier she’d spotted bolting out the building seconds before the blast and said as much. They saw soldier pulled off her helmet when she cleared the flames, tossing the smoking thing aside then frantically tried to peel off her melting armor. Both Aric and Elara immediately recognized the silvery Cathar and rushed over to help.

 

“Are you frakking crazy?!” Aric barked as he began ripping off Tia’s melted plating, wincing at how hot the metal felt through his gloves. “Forex, keep an eye out…….for anyone.”

 

“As always, it’s such a pleasure to see you, Captain,” Tia retorted, tears forming both from the sting of the smoke and the pain she could feel from the overheated under armor she was trying to unzip, “Good to see you are still your pleasant self……I was worried you’d might’ve figured out how not to be an jerk after our little chat on Nar Shaddaa. Gods be damned, this karking zipper’s melted!”

 

“You’ll have to excuse me for not being prepared to see you racing out of an exploding building!” Aric’s hands were shaking as he dug out a knife and began cutting at the very hot, thick material, “I swear both you and your littermate need to read up on how to properly handle explosives.”

 

“Stars, stop griping at me and get this kriffin’ thing off!” Tia yowled, feeling the mesh weave starting to singe through her fur in a couple of places.

 

“Serves you right,” Aric snapped as he continued working at getting the silvery minx free from her underarmor, “and it wouldn’t kill you to use the words ‘please’ and ‘sir’ you know. You might be behind enemy lines, but I’m still your superior.”

 

As soon as he’d cut enough of the material, Aric jerked it the rest of the way open and discovered yet another thing that would likely be invading his dreams. His hands shook as he finished helping her out of the hot mesh, itching to tear those purple satin and lace scraps off of her as well. Tia groaned in relief as she shimmied the rest of the way out of it, kicking the ruined mesh aside as she dashed the tears from her eyes. When she turned to face him, a glint caught his eye and he spotted a small, violet gem dangling from a small silver hoop that pierced her navel and he felt his body tighten further. Needing to get control of himself, Aric took a step back before he did something really stupid.

 

Tia saw his heated gaze and gave a sultry laugh, “I take it you like the view…….sir.”

 

“You scared us, Sergeant,” Elara intervened before things got ugly and before Tia could taunt Aric any further, she guided the younger Cathar over to where she and Aric had parked their speeders. She unhooked her medikit from her speeder and began tending to the numerous cuts and burns Tia sustained, pausing when she caught mischief twinkling on those lavender eyes which were currently following their brooding CO who was pacing nearby. She lowered her voice as she continued to apply kolto to one of the more raw spots, “I seem to recall you making a promise to Val back on Nar Shaddaa that you were going to try to be nicer to Captain Jorgan.”

 

“No, I merely promised that I wouldn’t do any more physical damage,” she smirked, knowing his sharp hearing was catching every word of their conversation, then winked at a scowling Aric who’d stopped pacing at her comment and was currently glaring at her with those arms crossed, “I never said I’d stop teasing him…….and he was the one who started it this time.”

 

“Well, it isn’t nice to come on to a guy like that when you don’t really mean it,” Elara chided, “While I can understand somewhat why you are angry, I think you’ve had more than enough payback for Ord Mantell.”

 

“I can’t help it if I’m the flirty type,” Tia shrugged, willing to bet the other woman didn’t know everything, “and who says I don’t mean it……”

 

“Do you?” Elara asked pointedly, a blonde brow arching as she looked up at Tia.

 

“That’s for me to know and Captain Crankypants to wonder…..” Tia taunted as the subject of their conversation had enough and strode towards them.

 

“So, is there any particular reason you felt the need to blow a building before you were a safe distance from it?” Aric asked in that highly grating, acerbic tone of his and Tia itched to slap that smug look off his face.

 

“I wasn’t counting on you guys getting here so fast,” she admitted grudgingly as she checked her bracelet over, glad to see it was undamaged. She let out a sigh, feeling a little guilty for lashing out, “I’d actually planned to be a bit further away when I set it off.”

 

“You knew we were on planet?” Elara’s green eyes narrowed at her.

 

“I found out when I arrived in Anchorhead a couple hours ago,” Tia nodded, “I was there when the second wave of droids went off and saw you guys had diverted them.”

 

“Where were you?” Aric asked, certain he’d have spotted her in any crowd.

 

“I was standing near the ruins of that apartment complex, but I ducked into the alley before you got too close.” Tia’s lavender eyes met Aric’s as she continued, “I was in disguise but didn’t want to chance being detected.”

 

“Probably for the best,” Aric nodded, understanding what she was leaving unsaid. Elara had been unconscious the last time they’d met face to face, and he certainly hadn’t felt the need to share the details of that explosive exchange for several reasons. Including the fact he’d come dangerously close to crossing boundaries that he had no right to, but Gods help him, he was finding it a lot harder to resist. Even though nothing happened, other than her emotional tirade and him consoling her, he’d know her scent anywhere. “So why were you in Anchorhead in the first place?”

 

“Officially, I was there to oversee the field test for Colonel Gorik,” Tia replied, gritting her teeth as Elara began to clean out a raw spot on her shoulder.

 

“And unofficially?” Aric prodded.

 

“I was going to pay a visit to Mayor Klerren. I figured he would at least know if Republic Spec Forces was in his city. I came across a couple comlinks that were no longer needed by their owners…..”

 

“Do I even want to know?”

 

“Probably not,” Tia grinned. “I was going to give one to the mayor and keep the other for the sole purpose of one call to let me know when Havoc Squad arrived on Tattooine. After I saw you for myself, I didn’t need to visit the mayor after all so I snuck out while the crowd was cheering your heroics.”

 

“Miss me that much, did you?” Aric taunted, a wicked gleam in his bright green eyes as they met hers again. He chuckled when she scowled, glad to be giving her a taste of her own medicine for once.

 

“About as much as the flu,” she shot back, hating the fact that she did in fact miss him a little. “I needed you guys for my plan. As soon as I arrived on this dustbowl, I’ve been trying to figure out how I was going to deal with Gorik, Fuse, and those damned bomb designs. I haven’t quite worked everything out, but I knew that factory had to go and sooner rather than later. So before I set out this morning, I packed a few little bombs to take with me.”

 

“A few?! That factory is a crater!”

 

“Okay, more like a dozen,” she looked sheepish, “Detonite.”

 

“Kark, you really are crazy!”

 

“It’s not like I had a lot of choices and I’m not exactly an explosives expert,” Tia defended herself. “So after I left Anchorhead, I contacted Gorik and let him know you’d arrived….”

 

“What?!” Aric bellowed, running his hands over his head as he stared at the younger Cathar.

 

“Why would you do that?!” Elara frowned.

 

“Oh please,” Tia rolled her eyes at them both, “No need to get your panties in a bunch. It was only a matter of time before word spread that the infamous Havoc Squad saved Anchorhead. Besides, I knew if Gorik felt the teensiest threat to his precious factory, he’d send someone to help defend it. I was his best choice since I was conveniently close by. So he sent me the coordinates and I headed over here. The Geonosians were expecting me and I was able to arrange my little surprise while they thought I was beefing up security and preping an ambush……just in case. But…..”

 

Aric sighed, “But you needed Havoc here so Gorik would assume we destroyed the factory.”

 

“Indeed,” Tia confirmed, “You know you’re actually smarter than I took you for. Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing…….so Kat gave me your contact info and I was just about to call you, however, I saw you guys approaching and blew it before you got too close. Luckily I had a pretty good shield generator on me but I think I’m gonna need a new one…..and some clothes.”

 

“What’d you expect after blowing a building while you were still in it?! You could’ve been killed!” Aric growled, feeling certain areas of his body tense again at the reminder of just how little she had on, not to mention that navel ring. It would be unprofessional to mate with your subordinate…….or choke the life out of her…….especially out in the open.....or in front of witnesses.

 

“Awwww, Captain, I’m so touched by your concern,” Tia purred, sauntering over to him as Elara started digging into the pack on Aric’s speeder, “but hey, at least my bra and panties are still intact……or were you hoping I’d need to take them off too?”

 

“Here, Sergeant,” Elara called out, biting back a smile, and tossed a large t-shirt to her before pulling her datapad out of her backpack.

 

“Oh, this is way too big to be yours, Sergeant Dorne,” Tia smiled as she pulled it on, “So it must belong to our grumpy Captain……it’s been awhile since I’ve had to cover my body with a man’s shirt…..and never in the desert.” She fixed Aric with a suggestive look, “Just think, sir, you’ve given me a whole new experience……too bad we’re not alone, I’m sure you could’ve given me a much better reason to be wearing your shirt.”

 

Tia gave a sultry laugh at the low growl that came from his throat, but Elara piped up before her CO blew a gasket, “Loose clothing is best right now, at least until that kolto has time to dry a little. So while we’re waiting for that, maybe you could brief us on what else you know or have planned.”

 

“As much fun as teasing old cranky pants here is, you make a good point and I do have news,” Tia sighed, closing her eyes for a moment as she rubbed her temples in an effort to ease the growing tension the day’s events were building in her. Taking a deep breath, Tia went on to explain about Gorik’s plans for Fuse’s designs, Fuse growing a conscious and refusing to work on them after finding out the Imperial officer was testing them on civilians, then Gorik throwing Fuse in the brig as a result. She explained that Tavus found out and sent her in to deal with the situation. She admitted to being aware that Fuse was trying to contact the mayor and planned to let that continue since it was the best way to give them information and bide her time so she could ensure those bomb designs never leave the planet without blowing her cover. Then she looked them both square in the eye and told them she was certain Fuse wanted out.

 

“If he wants a shot at atoning, then I suppose it won’t hurt to let him continue as is,” Aric spoke up after pondering that for a moment, “but are you sure he can be trusted?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t think he really wanted to defect in the first place,” Tia told them, “In those few days that we were all together on the Justice, he always seemed a little subdued, even a little hesitant. At first, I just attributed it to his personality……he’s not exactly the talkative type, but after arriving on Tatooine, I think he just went along with the others and now that he’s seen what the Imperials are capable of……”

 

“He wants no part of it,” Elara finished, “I know that feeling.”

 

“Exactly,” Tia nodded, “I’ll keep an eye on him and I certainly don’t plan to let him know my real role in all this, but I do think this is the best way for us to take down operations here and get Fuse into Republic custody.”

 

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Aric decided, “When we get back to Anchorhead, I’ll let Mayor Klerren know Fuse’s intel was sound and that we took care of the factory. Fuse seemed to be comfortable talking with the mayor so that’s probably our best way to keep in contact.”

 

“And I’ll work on an extraction plan and getting those designs out of Imperial hands,” Tia suggested, “Speaking of getting back, I should do so as well before they start to wonder where I am.”

 

“What are you going to do about clothing?” Elara frowned, “Because you really can’t wear that back to your base.”

 

“I snatched some stuff on my way to Anchorhead so I could pass for a local or Force user,” Tia answered, “It’s with my speeder a little ways away from here……no shirt though, just pants, boots, and a robe.”

 

“Do I even want to know where you got that stuff from?”

 

“Again……probably not,” Tia grinned at the pained expression on Aric’s face. “But Elara’s right, your shirt has the Republic Military logo on it so I shouldn’t even wear it under the robe......I don’t trust Gorik and the feeling is mutual. He’s probably going through my stuff whenever I’m not around to see if he can get any dirt on Tavus and this shirt would raise questions I don’t want to answer if it’s found.”

 

“Do you have anything else?”

 

“I was just wearing my tank top that I had on under my cortosis, but that’s toast.”

 

“I have a spare in my pack but it has the same logo as Captain Jorgan’s shirt. However, the Republic outpost is nearby and I saw a couple clothing stands there,” Elara mused, “If you don’t mind waiting with Sergeant Vleska, sir, I can go get her something more appropriate to wear. Sergeant, you look like you’re similar size as I am so it shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes…..fifteen at the most.”

 

“Thanks,” Tia smiled.

 

“Don’t mention it,” Elara waved as she climbed on her speeder, “Just be nice to our CO.”

 

“Fine,” Tia groaned, winking at the medic, “I’ll try my very best.”

 

Elara took off a moment later and Aric checked in with Forex, ordering the droid to keep scanning the perimeter and to let him know if anyone approached. Then he sat on a small boulder next to the remaining speeder, glancing over at the temptress wearing his shirt as he recalled the last time they were alone together and that brief exchange of messages they had shortly after, cryptic to anyone else, but full of teasing innuendo on both their parts. He’d honestly never felt so confused or uncertain in all his years, but knew there was little he could or should do about it at this point. He lowered his gaze, frowning when he saw a patch of angry red skin through the silvery fur just above her knee.

 

“You okay?” Aric broke the tense silence.

 

“I’ve had worse,” Tia sighed.

 

“You look tired,” Aric pointed out, having noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

 

“Been a long couple of days to be honest,” she murmured, the adrenaline that had been pumping through her ever since she’d spotted Havoc approaching the complex was waning and she was starting to feel exhausted. She stared for a moment at the flames still consuming the factory, “I could’ve warned them as I ran for the door…….some might’ve made it out alive,” she brushed at her cheek when an errant tear ran down, “But I didn’t. They’re all dead because I pressed a button without giving them a chance.” She turned to look him right in the eye, “What kind of person does that make me, Aric?”

 

“What do you think would’ve happened if you hadn’t blown the factory?” Aric asked softly, even more worried about the mental toll this was taking on her. Knowing he needed to at least try to ease the guilt he easily saw written all over that lovely face, he went on, “If we hadn’t shown up, they would’ve continued making more bombs. More innocent civilians would’ve been injured or killed.”

 

“Who am I to decide what lives have value?”

 

“All life has value,” he sighed, “But those Geonosians were no innocent civilians. Would you be this upset if you were part of a strike team that slagged an Imperial Military base?”

 

“Those weren’t soldiers caught in the blast though,” she pointed out.

 

“No, but they were willingly working with Imperial soldiers to attack civilians,” Aric countered, knowing he had to keep her focus on the logical part. “What if you had warned them? Do you really think they would’ve simply surrendered to us and gone quietly into custody?”

 

“No,” Tia admitted, “They would’ve fought back.”

 

“And would be just as dead as they are now,” Aric finished. “We were going to assault the factory before you blew it…..again, do you think the Geonosians would’ve surrendered without a fight?”

 

“No,” Tia murmured, still feeling bad about what she’d ultimately done, but realizing that the outcome would’ve been about the same if she hadn’t. “I just…..I don’t want to become some cold hearted monster that doesn’t give a squat about people’s lives.”

 

“Would you be this upset if you were in danger of that?”

 

“No, I suppose not,” she smiled weakly. “You’re not just making this all up so I’ll feel better, are you?”

 

“Given our brief history together, has there ever been anything about me that would make you think I’m the coddling type?!”

 

“Definitely not,” Tia snorted, her smile broadening. “But I do appreciate your honesty and insight…..maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight after all.”

 

“Come back to Anchorhead with us,” he offered, desperately hoping she’d take him up on it for her own sake, “You know where Gorik’s base is so we can just assault it head on…….”

 

“With what?” Tia shook her head, “Just you, Elara, and Forex? If I go with you, my cover is blown and Tavus will compensate for that. We’d be hard pressed to find him, Wraith, or Gearbox after that and I have no idea what they’re doing.”

 

“Fuse might be able to help and we can put word out that he died in the attack.”

 

“It’s not that simple,” Tia countered, “First off, I doubt Fuse knows much more than I do. We weren’t exactly holding group meetings after Tavus sent us all off. They all had their separate missions, but no one knew the details of the others’. I was sent off with Needles and neither of us had any idea what Fuse, Gearbox, or Wraith were up to. Secondly, it’s going to take a lot more than a three man squad to assault Gorik’s bunker…..even with Forex’s firepower. Thirdly, there’s too much risk of the bomb designs getting away or Fuse not making it out of there alive.”

 

“I won’t be too upset if he doesn’t,” Aric growled as he stood and began to pace, “He’s the one who chose to turn traitor and serve the Imperials. You saw the damage in Anchorhead…….that apartment complex was a direct result of his work for Gorik! The Geonosians may have built the droids, but he’s the one who designed them!”

 

“Believe me, I’m definitely pissed about that and he has a lot to answer for if he does make it back into Republic custody,” Tia insisted, “but the target wasn’t his choice and he stopped working on the designs as soon as he discovered the truth about what Gorik was doing with them.”

 

“What did he think they’d be used for?!”

 

“That’s the thing, he probably wasn’t at first,” Tia agreed, then went on, “Fuse trusts Tavus, they all do…...and Tavus assigned him to assist Colonel Gorik. But I truly feel with everything in my being that Fuse deeply regrets what he’s done and wants to atone. If Gorik finds out Fuse is contacting Mayor Klerren, he’ll face a firing squad as fast as one can be assembled. He at least deserves the chance for the risk he’s taking.”

 

“How much of this is because you slept with him?” Aric accused, regretting the words the moment they left his mouth.

 

A sly smile curved her lips as those lavender eyes met his head on, “You’re jealous. That’s why you’re getting so angry.”

 

“I am not jealous,” he lied, crossing his arms as he glared at her, “Just concerned that you’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment.”

 

“You are a horrible liar, Aric Jorgan,” Tia shot back as she stood, getting annoyed by his accusations. “But rest assured, I am far from compromised. I was three days into my mating cycle and Fuse was nothing more than a way to scratch the proverbial itch. It really wasn’t that great to be honest…..I mean he satisfied my needs so I can’t complain, but he wasn’t who I was wanting at the time……so anyways, the point is moot. We had sex, that’s it. There was no emotion involved to cloud my better judgment.”

 

“Oh really?” Aric raised a brow, his mouth twitching in a smirk as he saw the silvery minx start to fidget with her bracelet. “So Tiannya Vleska, who were you wanting at the time?”

 

“Why do you want to know?” she tossed back, a wicked gleam in her eye as her voice lowered to a purr. “Are you wishing it was you? I gave you a chance back on Ord if you recall that last day……”

 

Aric had no trouble recollecting neither that particular moment nor how difficult it had been to resist her, but the sound of an approaching speeder spared him from having to utter a response that he was certain she’d see for the lie it would be. Judging from the husky laughter that came from her, she knew damn well she’d won that round. However, after seeing how torn up she’d been a few minutes ago, Aric couldn’t begrudge her the victory. If all their verbal sparring and innuendo helped her overcome the bitterness of her current predicament, it was well worth any slights he might feel…..or any cold showers he’d end up having to take.

 

A few minutes later, Elara parked her speeder and was handing Tia a simple white cotton t-shirt while Aric went to fetch her speeder. She thanked the other woman, then spotting Aric driving her speeder back, she slowly, tantalizingly removed his t-shirt, knowing full well he was watching. She stood in her bra and panties for a moment while Elara checked over the kolto strips and bandages, then carefully pulled the new one on with the medic’s help, trying to keep the bandages from shifting and not to wince when the tighter garment rubbed a couple of the raw spots.

 

“Hey Captain,” she winked, her lips curving in a seductive little smile, as she tossed his shirt to him, “Just think, if you wear that without washing it, it’ll be kinda like my naked body touching yours….”

 

Aric gave her a feral grin before he could help himself, then tried to cover it up by scowling at her before stuffing the shirt into his pack, “Just try to keep out of trouble, Sergeant.”

 

“I saw that…..and don’t worry about me,” she replied, a dark look coming over her face, “I have a few more scores to settle and I’ll do whatever I must to ensure I succeed.”

 

Edited April 11, 2017 by alaurin

[Lunafox]

@Alaurin

 

I really like your take on the trooper story. I think if they had done something like that in the game, it would have made the story that much more interesting as it gives the trooper story more depth and intrigue. Tia seems like a real firecracker and I always enjoy the amount of depth you include with the Cathars. Nice to see you writing again. Don't let real life hold you captive for so long again.

[MishaCantu]

@Alaurin

 

I do like your trooper, ten feet tall and bulletproof, as they say. Also a nice twist to the trooper story, surely made for an interesting take on that whole Tatooine quest line.

 

Loved the back and forth between Tia and Aric, he is another one who runs cold on the outside and hot on the inside, like some other men in game and it is so easy to get him all flustered.

 

Enjoyed the read very much. Hope you won't stay a stranger to the fanfic section.

[alaurin]

Hey all, I've volunteered to start posting the weekly topics. Striges posts them on the Tumblr version of SFC, so I will simply be copying them over from there.

 

Some Replies:

 

@Luna- Glad you like Tia, she is certainly a feisty one. For some reason, I really like playing/writing about Cathar and have 2 legacies involving them. There wasn't a whole lot of info for the species on Wookiepedia, so I took many liberties and gave them a culture as well as other things to give them a little more depth. I've been relieved that no one has seemed to mind so far. Real life is taking up my time lately, especially with all of the end of the school year stuff with my kids, but once summer gets here I should be more of a regular in SFC land again.

 

@MishaCantu- Glad you like Tia as well and oh boy to her and Aric have some amusing exchanges. I do love how he gets flustered in game and in my fics. I am really trying to not be such a stranger and contribute more both in here and in my own story threads as time allows. I'm currently working on a little something here and the next part in my shared thread with Kit'ar......hoping to post at least one of those things in the next few days.

[alaurin]

Happy Friday!! Have a prompt!

 

Week of April 21, 2017

 

Constant Companions–Who’s with your character through all their adventures? Who’s their right hand, the one who’s always there? Who’s Samwise to your Frodo? Why are they there and why do they stay? This week write something featuring the person or people your character relies on most.

 

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust. Submit it anyway and Short Fiction Weekly Challenge will publish it.

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

Colors: Republic Blue. Empire Red. Sith Black. Jedi Brown. We associate nations, religions, companies, families, and even emotions with certain colors. What about your character? Do they have a favorite color? Do colors mean much to them? Do they abide by the color conventions for their affiliations? Or do they choose something different because they prefer it? Why? This week, write about how your character navigates the visual spectrum.

 

Synchronicity - Sometimes coincidences happen up close and sometimes they happen lightyears away. Sometimes it’s a plan clicking into place and sometimes it’s totally unintended. Sometimes it makes things seem like they’re meant to be…sometimes it makes it seem like they’re really not. Write about a time very similar events happened to your characters at the same time and possibly at a distance.

[alaurin]

Another Friday, another new prompt...

 

Week of 4/28/2017

 

Food on the Go–Everyone enjoys a quick snack. What’s your character’s favorite? What food stall do they have to hit whenever they’re in town? What take-away meal do they always bring home? What munchies do they pack along for a journey? Far from meaningless detail, something as mundane as food can tell your readers a lot about your character.

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust. Submit it anyway and Short Fiction Weekly Challenge will publish it.

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

I Dare You!: Few phrases in the English language have gotten people into more trouble, except possibly “Hey watch this!” So how about your character? Do they feel obliged to accept any dare? Do they dare others? Or do they regard the whole concept as ridiculous, an excuse to overrule common sense in exchange for a fleeting moment of acceptance or popularity? I dare you to write about it.

 

The Sounds of Silence: Tell a story without dialogue. Perhaps the characters are cannot speak or choose not to. Maybe the characters are incapable of speech. Maybe communications are cut off. Thoughts don’t count unless they’re audible in some way, and while journal entries or written correspondence fit the letter, they miss the spirit. Challenge yourself!

[alaurin]

Urgh, forgot to post this Friday......sorry!

 

Week of 5/5/2017

 

Plants/Gardening–It’s hard to avoid plant life, even on a spaceship. In low-tech societies plants are recognized as sources of food and medicine. In more high-tech ones they provide breathable air as well as beauty. Whether your character has a green thumb or can’t tell a cabbage from a kitten, write some plants into their story this week.

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust. Submit it anyway and Short Fiction Weekly Challenge will publish it.

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

Monuments: Beings everywhere create monuments. They can be statues or walls or great tomes or endowments to museums. Made to heroes, to wars, to governments, to benefactors, to saints, or even stupidity. They may be ancient or recent or forgotten. They may be revered or reviled, or maybe even both at once. Perhaps monuments to your character, desired or not, known or not. Write about your character’s interactions with monuments.

 

Missing Something: We have things we’re good at and things we’re not. What happens to your character when something they rely on is suddenly useless or unavailable? The obvious situation is if your Jedi or Sith can not call on the Force for some reason. But what about a sniper without their trusty rifle, a smuggler without their contacts, or a trooper without their squad? How did it happen? What does your character do?

[alaurin]

Week of May 12, 2017

 

Irritating Habits–Everyone has them. What about your character or one of their companions? Gum-chewing, whistling, smoking, a preference for odiferous delicacies? Who annoys who and how? Consider, too, that rude, irritating, or just plain gross behavior in one culture may be perfectly acceptable or even polite in another. The converse is true as well.

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust, share it!

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

Over Your Head- Interesting stories happen when your character is least expecting it, and least prepared. Maybe they misread the situation. Maybe their information was incorrect or incomplete. Perhaps an enemy (or friend!) arranged the whole thing. Or maybe they stumbled into the villain’s lair on accident. Maybe the villains stumbled into theirs! What do they do? How does your character handle being in over their head?

 

Fasting or Going Hungry - A character may go without food for a number of reasons: poverty, crash dieting, disciplines of faith or duty, declining weird alien food, forgetting to restock, or even forgetting to eat. What about your character? When have they experienced hunger? Was it intentional or accidental? Why? We had prompts for taste as well as favorite foods. This week, consider the opposite.

[alaurin]

Happy Friday! That also means it's time for a new prompt!

 

Week of May 19, 2017

 

Forgotten Places–A ghost town, an ancient ruin, a hidden valley, an island settlement, now abandoned. Places where people were, but no longer are. What does your character think about them? When has your character encountered one? Did they stumble on it? Seek it out? Read or hear a tale about it? Does it, like El Dorado, exist only in stories?

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust. Submit it anyway and Short Fiction Weekly Challenge will publish it.

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

Forever Will It Dominate Your Destiny - Darkness is the figurative and literal opposite and complement to light. Whether it’s the physical state, the Dark Side, or some kind of ignorance, we may find darkness concealing what we need, dirtying what it touches, or hiding on the unexpected flip side of something. Write about your character’s interaction with darkness. Thank you, @brightephemera, for this prompt.

 

But I Won’t Do That-is there a line your character won’t cross ever? Some act they would never do under any circumstances? Has it been tested? Have they been dragged to and over each line step by step? Or did they hold firm? Even the bad guys have standards. What are your character’s?

[Jagaimee]

Eep. I missed a story! I love your take on the trooper's story, alaurin! Dang...wish that really could have happened in-game. It would've added a lot of interesting story and even roleplay opportunities. (Also, Tia is amazing. I love her fiery attitude. She's tough without being stereotypical, which I think is pretty hard to pull off - and yet you do, very well. And it's fun when Jorgan gets all flustered... *evil grin* )

 

On that note, I too have a trooper story. Sadly, there is no flirtatious teasing of Jorgan. Teasing, yes, but nowhere near romantic.

 

Prompt: The Droids You're Looking For

Character: Morrun Khayan (trooper)

Timeline: Takes place well before the Propaganda piece; in between Coruscant and Taris.

Spoilers: None.

Warning: Very dry writing. I'm struggling with writer's block. Gah.

 

 

“Sir?”

 

Morrun looked up from the report he’d been reading. He was glad for any distraction, really: words, numbers especially, made his head swim. Even a short, bland report about the ordnance they had on board the Thunderclap was enough to make his eyes bug out.

 

Jorgan was standing in the doorway of the room, a frown on his face. “Aside from that C2 droid,” he growled, “I thought we were the only ones on board.”

 

Morrun got up. “We are. Aren’t we?”

 

Something beeped. A very tiny, quiet, meek little chirp. Jorgan glanced down at his foot. “Evidently not.” And he stepped aside to reveal what was possibly the tiniest astromech droid Morrun had ever seen.

 

The thing couldn't have been more than a foot tall. It was painted an odd sort of dull brownish-purple, with bright yellow highlights on its surface. In short, it looked like a jester fell into a mud puddle. A little blue light blinked from its dome. The droid spun in a happy circle, whistling cheerfully, and a small prod-arm extended from its chassis to wave a salute at Morrun and Jorgan.

 

“…what?” Morrun couldn’t help but grin. “That…is adorable. Where the heck did it come from?”

 

“I have no idea, sir.” Jorgan was right back to scowling. “I was setting some gear in the storage lockers, and it wheeled out from a corner.” He knelt down to the droid’s level. It beeped at him and gave another salute. “Wonder if it’s a probe of some kind…” He picked up the droid, to its screeching indignation, and looked it over. The droid acted like he’d violated its privacy: every compartment came open and all manner of tools began popping out, trying to cover every square inch of its chassis.

 

Morrun watched in amusement as Jorgan held the wriggling droid at arm’s length. “We can ask General Garza,” he suggested. Jorgan gave a reply, but Morrun couldn’t hear it over the droid’s incensed squealing.

 

Five minutes later, they – and the still-squawking droid – were in front of the main holoterminal. General Garza’s imposing figure was glaring at them. “Neither, sergeant,” she said in response to Jorgan asking if the droid was a probe or a spy. “It was a gift.”

 

Sergeant and lieutenant glanced at each other. “A gift?” Morrun asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“From who?”

 

“That, lieutenant, is classified.”

 

Morrun blinked. “…yes, sir.”

 

Garza’s scowl softened somewhat. “In other words, you don’t need to worry about the droid spying on you. It does not have that capability. Its designation is M4-1S. You may do with it as you please. Garza, out.” The holocomm blinked away.

 

Jorgan held up the droid, which squeaked at him. “M4-1S?”

 

“It needs a better name than that.”

 

Jorgan’s frown deepened. “We’re keeping it?”

 

“Oh, yes. Just look at the little guy. How can you turn away a face like that?” Morrun patted the droid on the dome. It beeped appreciatively. “It’s…”

 

“If you say ‘cute,’ sir, I’m going to cough up a hairball.”

 

“…bug-eyed.”

 

The droid let loose an angry squawk.

 

“No, seriously, it’s bug-eyed. Look at it.” Morrun pointed at the ocular apparatus. It did indeed look like the giant lens-eye of a bug. A very cute bug. “That’s not a bad thing,” he told the droid. “Shush, you.”

 

“So, what, we’re going to name it Buggy?”

 

“Uh…” Morrun’s brow furrowed. It didn’t sound right. “Bugsy? Sounds like a gangster.”

 

Jorgan shook his head. “Bugboy. No, wait, that’s what idiots call a Joiner,” he retracted. “Never mind.” He set the droid down on the floor, rather like a parent setting a fussy toddler down to amuse itself on the floor with whatever it could find. The droid rubbed itself against Jorgan’s boot like a cat, and emitted a noise that sounded very much like a purr. Jorgan slowly backed away from it.

 

“Hey, the little guy likes you,” Morrun said, smirking.

 

“Actually, I think it’s mocking me, sir.”

 

“Then we’ll give it sensitivity training.”

 

“Ri—“ Jorgan looked at him askance. “…ri-ight…”

 

Morrun stifled a laugh. Of course he'd been joking. “It still needs a name, though.” He crouched by the droid, who wobbled on its treads; its bobblehead dome wiggled from side to side. A name, and possibly a new paint job. That yellow and almost-purple was a bit of an eyesore. Still, even with that, the little googly-eyed droid was the most adorable thing he’d seen, except maybe a newborn akk puppy.

 

Jorgan harrumphed. “You’re attached to the little guy.”

 

A lightbulb went off, and Morrun looked up at him. “Little Guy. We’ll call it Little Guy.”

 

“That’s a terrible name, sir.”

 

“Eh, just until we can find a better one.” Morrun patted the droid on the dome again. “That okay with you, Little Guy?” The astromech whistled cheerfully, rocking on its treads again, and then it spun in a full circle with a happy squeal. “Aw. He likes it.”

 

“He?”

 

“…it.” Morrun stood up. He'd better get moving...he had work to do, much as he didn’t want to get back to it. “I wonder who gave it to us…” As Little Guy didn’t seem to be able to communicate except in unintelligible squeaks and beeps – not even binary – it wasn’t like it was going to give them an answer. So perhaps the mystery would just go unsolved…. Well, in any case, Little Guy was welcome. C2 was irritating, and as there were currently no other members of Havoc Squad, it would be nice to have another being around.

 

Even if that being was one foot tall, spoke solely in beeping noises, and painted like a depressed clown.

 

--------

 

Garza signed off on the holocomm.

 

“I thought it was a probe, sir,” her aide said.

 

“It’s not.” Garza turned to look at the man. “I said it was a gift, and I meant it.” She allowed a smile to cross her face. A small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. “I’m not quite as humorless as they think I am.”

 

 

Note:

 

Does anybody else think the anniversary astromech droids are cute as all get-out!? The little purple and yellow one was the first one I got, and I promptly fell in love with it.

 

[alaurin]

@Jagaimee: Ah, Aric Jorgan.....I love that romance and writing about it, but it really is fun making him the butt of a joke or prank.....even if he's not alone in it. That story gave me a few giggles. Also, thank you for the lovely compliment and it has been fun writing that alternate version of the Trooper storyline. Yes, Tia is a fiery handful for Jorgan and she definitely knows how to press his buttons. I'm glad you're enjoying her and I promise there is more in the works for her now that the school year is over (I can actually find time to work on stories).

 

@everyone else, I had a couple busy weeks and a good friend pointed out that we need some prompt love.....so I'll post those past 2 prompts that I sorta forgot about. Sorry!!

[alaurin]

Week of May 26, 2017

 

Titles–Queen, Lord, Baron, Senator, President, Minister, Director, Sir or Madam. A title might be formal, bestowed in a ceremony. It might be a basic term of respect or polite discourse. Or it might be earned by appearance, action, or affiliation: Erik the Red, Catherine the Great, Jabba the Hutt. What titles does your character have?

 

*Feel free to continue submitting stories for any prompt. A masterpiece missed the deadline? Don’t let it gather electronic dust. Post it anyways!

 

*This week’s prompt not for you? Look for something more to your taste in the Prompt Archive. Consider all the prompts active and waiting to inspire you.

 

This week’s featured previous prompts are:

 

Boring Conversation Anyway - Our characters talk to a lot of people. Sometimes these conversations end well. Sometimes they end…less well. Conversations may culminate in agreement, anger, happiness, thoughtfulness, kisses, or bloodshed…or get cut off before any satisfying conclusion is reached. Write about the way one of your characters’ conversations ended.

 

A Good Villain: Every hero needs an antagonist, someone who thwarts them at every turn. This week’s challenge: write a story centered on your character’s main villain. This might be an enemy the game made for your character or one you invented in your character’s story, but either way, this is their time in the sun. Make it good. Or bad, as the case may be.

Edited June 6, 2017 by alaurin