The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[Striges]

@Frauzet: Great conclusion for the chapter. Nikeo's puzzlement and the tension between him and Jorgan read well. Giz and Corso are going to be an interesting pair. I like Giz calling Corso out on his obvious double standard. If Syreena had been a guy, there's be no trouble. And last, a snapshot of Iolith. All of them have good reasons to hate Ord Mantell.

 

I'm glad you liked Varrel's story. It's hard to depict a sense that no reader will have, and keep it distinct from something like Vector's auras. I'm pleased it comes across well.

 

YoshiRalphElan: So nice to see the kids looking up to mom and dad, without knowing who they were in the story. I love both the kids being so serious at the end. It was no longer just a bedtime story about imaginary people, it was real. And about their parents. How cool is that?

 

@both Marissalf and TrystanLaryssa: Agent doesn't have a mirror to that specific quest, unless the early one on Hutta (with Javis' sons) counts. This particular Warrior quest was the one that made Sith politics feel a whole lot less capricious. I remember wanting a button that said something to the effect of "can we speak privately?" I never sympathized too much with SIth behavior when playing my Agent. Until then. The shoe was on the other foot. Varrel really didn't want to kill him, but didn't feel like he had a choice. He's an old-fashioned person. Too many witnesses. Can't appear weak. Order, after all, must be maintained.

[sthrift]

Way freaking behind again. Comments coming folks I promise. There was some stuff posted recently I have to comment on.

 

Before I can do that tho, we have the next installment of:

Exercise or How I learned to hate Ord Mantell, Part 8.

Trooper

no spoilers

1600 words or so.

 

 

Voslic glanced at his chrono. They had been under fire for almost thirty minutes. He looked around at the chewed up landscape around his hole and marveled that there had not been more casualties. Elara had explained that the first series of wounded had been outside their holes when the first rounds hit. So far, none of the fighting holes, save the command pit, had taken a direct hit. If they had, the durasteel overheads had helped shrug off the explosion.

 

Voslic tried his comm-link again. He had been trying to raise Jorgen for a sit rep (situation report). If Jorgen and the 3rd RID was not under fire, then they might would be able to relieve the 124th Rangers. The 3rd RID was a bigger unit and could put some serious pressure on the attackers from one direction and start silencing those mortars. If they were under fire, then as Vic had put, they were so karking humped.

 

As with his other attempts, he received nothing but a burst of static and drew at least three mortar rounds towards his position for his trouble. The near misses left his ear ringing, despite the ballistic protection his helmet provided and a whirlwind of dust tearing through the hole. He shut off the link angrily and contemplated throwing it out of the hole. He thought better of it and shoved it back in it’s carrier.

 

Tanno glanced back at him from the firing step. “I’d appreciate you NOT turning that karking thing on again while you’re in the hole. Seems they are triangulating comms transmissions.”

 

Voslic ground his teeth to keep from screaming. “You think Tanno?” Was all he could manage.

 

“Yeah, I think.”

 

Voslic thought for a second then decided on a plan. Not that he thought it was a very good one, but sitting and waiting out the barrage was getting them nowhere. He grabbed a spare rifle, checked that the magazine was charged with war shot and started moving toward the back of the hole. He stopped there timing the fall of the rounds. Tanno watched with mild amazement.

 

“Just where the hell do you think you’re going Skipper?”

 

“Out. Thought I’d go stretch my legs.” Voslic replied lightly. He took off his helmet and turned and looked back at the Wequay. “Do me a favor, look after Elara will you?”

 

Tanno glanced out of the hole to hell that was still going on outside. “In this? Really?”

 

Voslic’s angered expression brought a raised hand from the Wequay. He took two steps toward Voslic and put a hand on his leaders shoulder. “Voslic, I may be a wompa’s *** most of the time, but she’s a team member, your wife and a helluva a corpsman. I take care of our own. Second, I’ve seen you step into worse and come out with nary a scratch. You’ll be back in no time.”

 

Voslic smiled, nodded and clapped his hand on Vic’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re an ***.”

 

Vic laughed and shoved Voslic toward the entrance. “Go on and get out of here. Sooner you go sooner you’ll be back.”

 

Voslic clapped his helmet on his head and headed out the back of the hole. No sooner had Vic turned back to the fire step, three rounds exploded near the rear of the hole. Vic watched as his CO came tumbling back into the fighting position. The body came to rest at an odd angle in the bottom of the fighting hole. Vic stood motionless for several seconds staring. He finally snapped out of his shock and rolled Voslic onto his back and pulled his helmet off. Voslic’s eyes stared up toward the overhead. Vic’s mind rolled with the unthinkable. “Boss?” He whispered.

 

Voslic’s eyes cut suddenly toward Vic. “What?”

 

Vic jumped like he’d been shot. “Dammit Skipper! I thought you were dead.”

 

Voslic rolled into a sitting position and attempted to shack the cobwebs out of his head. “You and me both until I realized it was you hovering over me and not some angel or Valkyrie ready to whisk me away.”

 

“Let Elara hear you talking about Valkyries. And see, I told you you’d make it back it no time. Just didn’t think it would be that quick. You ok?”

 

“Mostly got the concussion from the blasts. Heard a few pings before I blacked out.” Voslic stood, grabbed his helmet and rifle again. He headed toward the back of the hole.

 

“Sure you want to go back out in that mess?”

 

“Yeah, got to. Need to find a working transmitter, find any battalion officers and see what we can do about either getting relief or getting the hell off this bullseye.”

 

Without another word, Voslic bolted out of the hole and started sprinting toward what was left of the battalion CP (command post). He heard another barrage falling and dove into a shell hole before the next rounds hit. As soon as the explosions had started to die down, he was up and sprinting again.

 

Mortars are funny things. If they are close enough, and normally due to the limited range of the weapon they are fairly close, you can hear the weapon fire. They make a nice “chuff-thump” when fired. Because it is an indirect fire weapon, you can count the seconds between firing and the “splash” (when the round hits). This can give you a window of when it’s safe to say, haul *** around a perimeter. If you have a means to respond, meaning indirect fire capability or air support, the launching sound gives you a good idea of the direction of the tubes and counting the time between launch and splash can more or less get you a general distance. Since Voslic didn’t have a section of heavy mortars or air support, all that gave him was the window for movement.

 

That would all be great knowledge to have if the enemy had only one mortar section firing on the perimeter. Unfortunately, whoever the enemy was had multiple sections firing. Voslic had missed another section firing during the previous blast. He heard the whistle of incoming rounds after three steps. “Kark, I’m in the open.” He thought.

 

Just before the rounds hit, he was tackled from his left into a nearby shell hole. He landed hard and rolled over on his stomach and crossed his legs (an attempt to keep shrapnel from penetrating vital areas). The concussion of the rounds rolled over him and the hole he was tackled into was deep enough to prevent shrapnel damage. The figure next to him grabbed his shoulder and jerked him up so he was looking at the other man face mask to face mask. Even through the muffled helmet comms the angry voice was plain.

 

“What in the good galram were you thinking you karking idiot?!”

 

“Thanks Top.”

 

If Voslic could have seen the First Sergeants face, he would have seen closed eyes and a face colored with embarrassment. “Maybe that should have been ‘What in the good galram were you thinking you karking idiot, SIR?”

 

Voslic chuckled. “Don’t worry about it Top.” Voslic replied as crawled up to lip of the hole to have a look around. More rounds hit further down the perimeter line from them. Voslic rolled back into the hole and took his helmet off. “Where are the battalion officers?”

 

“You’re it. They were all at the CP when those rounds hit there. I told the CO it was a bad idea to gather like that in the morning.”

 

“What about comms?”

 

“We got one more comm team left. Told them to stop trying to transmit when it became clear they, whoever “they” are, were using “copperheads” (term used for self-guiding munitions). Bright kid had already figured that out.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Come on.” Top replied as he got ready to move. He waited until a set of rounds landed and then bolted out of the hole. Voslic came out close on his heels. It was a short sprint when the first sergeant suddenly veered sharply to right, bellowing “Coming in!” and dove into an opening in the ground. Voslic followed the Top’s lead and dove in after him.

 

“Stars Top! A little warning next time!” A voice in the dark yelped. The first sergeant hit hard and rolled to the right away from the opening. Voslic hit hard next to the man. The first sergeant glanced at the young corporal sitting next to a comm setup. “Maybe you want me to RSVP next time Choun?”

 

Corporal Choun shook his head. “You think you could? If I knew you were going to be a “Plus-1” Private Thana and I would have dug a bigger hole!”

 

The rounds crashed down around the fighting position. The first sergeant thumbed toward the explosions. “That there’s my RSVP.”

 

Voslic rolled over on his back and pulled his helmet off. “I’m getting too old for this nerf-****.” He grumbled.

 

“Well hell Top, if I’d known you’d be bringing the Major with you, I’d have broke out the fine china. Baked a cake. Something.” Corporal Choun held out a hand to Voslic. “Pleased to meet you sir. You here to get us out of here right?”

 

“Working on it Corporal. First thing I need is comms and I need ‘em yesterday.”

 

“I might have just the thing Sir. A little something I picked up from your Sgt. Yuun.”

 

Voslic cocked an eyebrow at the young man. “Show me what you got son.”

 

 

Edited February 7, 2014 by sthrift

[DarthSillyMonkey]

Ok, posting this before work, and I'll drop some comments when I get home, (trying to beat the prompt switch! )

 

Prompt: Boring Conversation Anyway / Dreams and Nightmares / Good-Bad Memories

Class: Trooper (Bro'Kian / Kiera'Kian)

Title: Never Who You Think They Are

Words: 3,460'ish (Doc says I'm going to be all right!... then he tried to take me out to pick up women! Thanks a LOT, Marissalf!)

Timeframe: A few weeks after the A-77 incident

Spoilers: YES!! A major, Trooper defining event at the beginning of Ch.3 (Or end of Ch.2, I can never remember)

 

Mando translations - (Vod - Brother/Sister) (Vod'ika - Little Brother) (Di'kutla - Worthless, Useless) (Chaavla - Unruly, Of the criminal underclass) (Osiik - Poodoo)

 

 

"You can't vent the systems level! I'm ON the systems level, remember?! There are droids everywhere, I'd never make it out! Who IS this moron?"

 

"Jaxo, calm down. I'll find a way to get everyone out. I promise."

 

"There is no other way!" The Mon Cal stated frantically, as explosions rocked the ship. "Without shields, we'd never get the cells open fast enough. All those prisoners would die. Please, forgive me, but we have no other alternative."

 

"You've got to get me out of here, Major! I can't die in a place like this! You just promised me I wouldn't!"

 

"Sir, we're clearly compelled to rescue the greatest number of prisoners possible", Elara's voice dropped from her standard crisp, military tone, to a softer one, "Bro'Kian... we have no choice."

 

"There's always a choice, you rules mongering b*tch! Bro, please," Jaxo pleaded, "I'm begging you, don't do this..."

 

"Jaxo, I'm trying... "

 

Jorgan stepped forward, " Gen. Thall’Kian, your father, once said 'When we enlist as soldiers, we give up our lives to preserve those of others. Our careers are merely journeys, to reach that moment of sacrifice'. We all knew the risks when we enlisted, Major."

 

"You're insane!" Jaxo screamed, her voice full of fear and frustration. "THIS is insane! Major, you promised to get me out of here! I know you... please..."

 

"We're running out of time!" The Mon Cal technician warbled. "I need a decision now or we're all doomed!"

 

Bro'Kian looked at Jorgan, the words of his father repeating in his head.

 

"Jaxo," his voice was husky, as he began to choke up, "please, forgive me. I can't... I'm sorry, but this is the only option." He weakly nodded to the technician.

 

"But.. no..NO!" Jaxo's disbelief, her feelings of betrayal, carried through the comm. "Bro, you promised me," she sobbed, "It can't end like this. Bro'Kian, please! Don't leave me here... you always find a better solu--*ffffssssshhhhh*”

 

He stared at the comm, and heard nothing but static... Jaxo's final words lost to the void of space.

 

****************************************************

 

He shot up, sweating like he'd run a marathon. From the looks of his bed, he'd been thrashing pretty hard. The room's comm was on, filling it with the sound of white noise.

 

Must've hit the mic button on the headboard.

 

Bro'Kian swung his legs onto the floor and held his head in his hands. The A-77 debacle had occurred weeks ago, but he was still having nightmares about it. He hadn't gotten more than four hours of sleep in a night during that time.

 

"At least this one didn't have Jaxo's desiccated corpse entering the room, screaming 'You left me!' and choking you to death", he said to himself. He hadn't slept for three nights straight following that one.

 

He leapt out of bed, startled when the door to his quarters made a quick *wwsshh* noise as it slid open.

 

"Wow. Expecting an attack? You look like hell, little brother." Kiera'Kian walked in wearing a loose sleeveless cutoff sweatshirt, and a pair of old cutoff sweat shorts. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she approached him. “Really? You’re going to stop me with that?” she asked, grinning.

 

He hadn’t realized it, but when he jumped out bed, instinct took over, and he had grabbed the first thing he could use as a weapon.

 

… in this case, it was one of his pillows.

 

“Heh, sorry. Automatic reaction", he lowered his arm. "So what’s going on? Why are you up in the wee hours, scaring the heebies out of me?”

 

“Ok, you can’t seriously think you can pull the ‘I’m fine’ routine, after waking both Elara and me. Cripes, Bro, we’re down the hall. We heard you yelling through the bulkhead!”

 

“Just a bad dream is all. No big deal, Sis. Honestly, I’m good. Just gonna warm me up some nerf milk, and head back to bed.”

 

Kiera blocked his path, crossed her arms, and cocked her head. “Uh huh. Look, standing at the Academy graduation parade in nothing but your socks? Bad dream. Kissing Vik on the lips? Really bad dream. You waking up, drenched in sweat and trying to kill your amazingly beautiful sister with a pillow? MORE than a bad dream. What’s really going on, Bro?”

 

The look on her face told him he wasn’t going to get out of this without coming clean. He sighed heavily and tossed the pillow back onto the bed.

 

“I had a nightmare about Jaxo again.” He sat on the edge of the bed, head down, elbows on his knees.

 

“Kark, Vod'ika," Kiera looked concerned, "you’ve got to find a way to let her go. That guilt you’re carrying is eating you alive.”

 

“Right” he snorted derisively, “because it’s just THAT easy! I let a woman I once loved, someone I was close to, someone I promised to protect, die! She was begging for me to save her, Kiera! She didn’t even get to finish her last words because I gave the order to kill her!”

 

“An order that saved thousands! Then, you glossed over the part where she was willing to sacrifice those thousands so that she could live, in order to convince Garza to set up a memorial in her honor! You did what you had to do, and you guaranteed she’s remembered as a hero! You couldn't do more than that!”

 

He stood up, coming to his full height, and pointed his finger at his sister, “What the hell do you know?! You weren’t even there! You didn’t hear the fear in her voice! The betrayal!”

 

“What do I…” she whispered, shocked. Then she charged him, driving him back into the armoire, and pinning her forearm against his throat. “WHAT DO I KNOW?! You unbelievable sunuva -- How DARE you! You think you’re the only person she was important to?! Jaxo was my friend too, di'kutla!"

 

Bro brought his knee up into her abdomen, loosening her grip, then pushed her back hard. "For being your friend, you sure got over it quick!"

 

Kiera's outrage showed on her face. "...you AS*HOLE!"

 

She feinted left, and gut punched him with her right. then she hit him with a right-left combo, putting him back up against the armoire, blood running down his nose.

 

"You think it was easy for me?! You think I don't care?!" She backed up a step, and hit him again. Bro put his arms up to defend.

 

"Did you have to tell the 'Safecrackers' their buddy died?!" *CRACK*

 

"Did you have to lie to her friend's faces?!" *WHAM*

 

"Hold back that, in the end, she died a karking coward?!"

 

Bro blocked the incoming blow, and delivered one of his own to his sister's gut. "JAXO WASN'T A COWARD!"

 

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Elara's commanding voice rose above the din of the fighting, but the siblings didn't stop.

 

"All RIGHT! Love it when those two brawl!" Vik was looking in from the door.

 

Jorgan pushed his way in, underneath the large Weequay. He looked at Elara as he made to grab Kiera, to pull her from the fight. "What the hell is going on in here?"

 

Elara followed Jorgan's lead and got in front of the her friend, separating her from her brother.

 

"Captain! CAPTAIN! You will STOP THIS AT ONCE! It's unacceptable behavior for an officer!" She fought against the strength of the larger woman, but managed to push her back, with Jorgan's help.

 

After a few minutes of struggling against the two, Kiera gave up in frustration. "GRRAHH! Get offa me!" She threw her hands up in the air, shaking them both away and stormed past Vik, out of the room.

 

Elara went after her, and Jorgan stopped long enough to give the Weequay a disgusted look and say, "Do something worthwhile, and make sure he doesn't leave!", then followed after the two women.

 

Vik shrugged and walked into the room, one hand behind his back. Bro leaned against the armoire bleeding, in the beginning stages of bruising and swelling. He looked up at the Specialist through one open eye, "Get. Out."

 

Faster than he could track it, the Weequay produced a small stun baton and pushed it into Bro'Kian's chest, pinning him against the armoire. The shock caused his limbs to spasm, and then his body locked.

 

"'Fraid I can't do that Major. Capt. Fuzzybutt's orders."

 

Vik pulled the baton away as Bro's body relaxed. He slid downward, passing out before he hit the ground.

 

***********************************

 

Kiera was in the cockpit, staring into space when Elara found her.

 

"Captain..." she said softly, "what happened back there? I've never seen you two like that."

 

Kiera kept staring out the window. "Sure you have. We fight all the time", she replied testily.

 

"Not like that", Jorgan walked in. "That wasn't your usual scuffle, you guys were fighting for real. Now what the hell is going on?"

 

She stayed silent, her eyes never leaving the vastness of space.

 

"Kiera... please..." Elara came up beside her friend and knelt down, covering the captain's hand with hers.

 

Kiera's scowl slowly turned into resignation, and she half-smiled at Elara, "Dammit, Dorne. Sometimes I just want to be angry for awhile. How do you always screw that up?"

 

"Being angry isn't going to solve this problem, Captain", Jorgan interceded. "So, you gonna wallow, or are you going to fix it?"

 

Elara shot the Cathar a nasty look as Kiera laughed. "See? You need to take lessons from Jorgy-boy. I could stay mad all the time, if you were like him!"

 

Jorgan took a step back and rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, I just--"

 

"No, you're right, Jorgan," she sighed. "This isn't helping anyone."

 

"So, mind telling us what the hell caused that knock-down-drag-out we witnessed back there?" he leaned against the control panel. Elara stood up and took the seat across from her.

 

Kiera ran her hand through her hair and took a deep breath. "You guys have been around my brother long enough to know he has a hard time letting go. His 'never take anything too seriously' attitude is a cover for how much pressure he actually puts on himself. It started when our... it started when Bro lost something very precious to him. He blames himself because he wasn't there to stop it from happening."

 

"The A-77..." Elara interrupted, "he thinks it's his fault he couldn't save Jaxo."

 

"It wasn't his fault!" Jorgan growled. "He did everything he could!"

 

"He doesn't think so. Bro believes there's always a way to save everyone, and he's been lucky enough to pull off that pipe-dream... up until now. Add to that, the fact that Jaxo was his first real love. You move on from that, but you never forget it. It's always special, especially for someone as sensitive as he can be."

 

"Ok, but that still doesn't explain what had you two kicking each other's a*s." Jorgan said.

 

"He's not the only person having a hard time with this whole thing. Jaxo was a close friend. We got along great, and had some amazing nights out on the town. I loved hanging with her", she smiled wistfully. "Turns out I might not have known her at all, though. She always seemed brave and heroic in the field, but when the chips were down, she was willing to sacrifice thousands just to save her own hide."

 

Jorgan growled. "She forgot what being a soldier means. Why we're here."

 

Kiera's head dropped for a few seconds before she replied, softly. "Yeah. She lost it in the end, showed her true colors."

 

"That must be hard for you," Elara spoke up, "and for him."

 

"It is, but I've had to come to terms with it. Both Bro and I covered for her. He had Four-X scramble the armor-cam footage before it compiled, and was sent to HQ. I told the Safecrackers that she went down fighting. The only people who know the truth, are the people who were there, and myself."

 

"It was a noble thing to do." said Elara softly.

 

"Maybe. It's eating at him, though. The fact he couldn't save her. The fact that, in her dying moments, she begged for him to bear the weight of thousands of deaths, just to save her own skin. He's not dealing with it well, and it's manifesting in nightmares. When I confronted him about it, he lashed out... said some things that shouldn't have been said."

 

"And you decked him for it" Jorgan sighed disappointedly. "Wish I could say that shocks me."

 

"Go choke on a furball, Jorgan! He had it coming", Kiera snapped. "Anyway, he's got to find a way to let this go and -- my brother being my brother -- I'm not sure he can."

 

*******************************

 

He awoke to the feeling of someone slapping his face.

 

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. Time to talk."

 

Bro'Kian looked up and saw Vik crouched over him. He struggled to get up, but couldn't move his arms... or legs. He looked down and saw he was wrapped -- almost swaddled, even -- in his bed sheets. They were tied tight in the back.

 

"Vik, you'd better untie me right now, or so help me--"

 

"Major, I just hit my CO with a stun baton. You think I'm worried about some piddly unlawful detention charges?"

 

He looked up at the Weequay cautiously, "What do you want, Vik?"

 

"Well, a fat paycheck every month would be nice, but since that's not happening anytime soon, let's talk about what went down on A-77."

 

“Let’s not. You don’t know osiik about what went down on that ship.”

 

“Actually, I know that you kept a video of the whole conversation, and gave it to your sister. And that she stored it on the internal network, in what she believed was a safe place.”

 

“… how’d you find it, Vik?” Bro asked, suspicion in his voice.

 

“Remember those ‘special’ requisitions you told me you didn’t want to know about? I access my contact list through the folder she stored it in.”

 

His brow furrowed, “Whatever, I’m not talking about this with you.”

 

“Cap’s right, y’know. She died a coward.”

 

“She wasn’t a coward!” Bro struggled, frustrated that he couldn’t punch Vik right now.

 

“Sure she was. Begging for her life like that. I mean, not that I wouldn’t have tried to bargain for mine in that situation -- I mean, hell, I don’t know those other prisoners -- but if it doesn’t work? I sure as hell ain’t begging.”

 

“Vik, she was scared out of her mind, you as*hole! You didn’t know her, you don’t get to make a judgment!”

 

The large Weequay chuckled, “I know all I need to, Boss. Look, you want to know a person? Really know a person? Make ‘em face their own death, then you find out who that person really is.”

 

“GORAMMIT VIK, CUT ME LOOSE! I’LL SHUT THAT FAT MO—“

 

“See, I respect you, Boss”, he interrupted. “Whenever you face death, you never back down. You always stare it square in the eye and say ‘Gimme your best shot. I can take it.’ You’ve even saved my sorry a*s a couple of times. You’ll do that, give your life for others… not that I agree with the idea, but people follow you because of it. Respect you for your courage.”

 

Bro stopped struggling and looked at the Weequay.

 

“That woman? She was weak, begging because she was afraid. Whoever this gal was to you, she wasn’t who you thought she was. You have to accept that. Her ghost is bringing you down, making you weak. You're making crap decisions lately because you're exhausted, and I won't follow a guy who's gonna lead me to my death. I’m losing respect for you, and despite myself, for once I actually have some karks to give about that.”

 

"What do you expect me to do, Tanno?! Just accept that she was willing to let all those people die? Accept I wasn't quick enough to come up with a solution that saves her?"

 

"You'd better, Boss. She ain't gonna be the last. Listen, I've watched guys who let those ghosts hang around. Those guys die angry and alone. You're stronger than that, unless you choose not to be. So suck it up and deal... just like the rest of us have to."

 

The Weequay stood up and tossed a knife on the ground, by his head. "I'm done babysitting. I have better things to do. When you're done feeling sorry for yourself, you can cut your own self loose." He turned and walked out of the room.

 

As he crossed the threshold, Bro spoke up. "Tanno... you talking from experience here?"

 

The Weequay paused in the doorway for a moment, then turned his head with his usual smug grin, "Me? Hell no. You gotta have friends for that to happen, Boss", then he walked off.

 

***************************************

 

"Hey."

 

Kiera'Kian turned around and saw him leaning against the doorway to the cockpit. "Hey."

 

Bro'Kian stepped inside, "Mind if I join you?"

 

"It's your ship, you can do what you want." She turned back to looking out the window, at the stars.

 

"Kiera... I'm sorry. I was wrong--"

 

"Yeah you were", she interrupted him.

 

"I shouldn't have said what I said."

 

"No, you really shouldn't have."

 

He scratched the back of his head. "Look, I... well..." He walked over to her chair and handed her a bottle he had been carrying.

 

"What's this?" She looked up at him straight faced.

 

"Peace offering. It's the good stuff. I keep it hidden, so you don't drink it all."

 

"Nice" she scowled at him. "You've never been good at this type of thing, you know that?" She snatched the bottle and looked it over, then whistled as she looked at the date. She cracked it open and took a swig.

 

"I know. I just... I mean... Look, I hit below the belt, and I didn't.. it wasn't because I wanted to, I hope you know that. I never want to hurt you like that, Kiera'Vod. Can you forgive me?"

 

"Not right now... but this is a good start", she took another swig and then handed him the bottle. "Sit."

 

Bro took the bottle from her, sat down in the navigator's chair, and took a pull.

 

"Bro. We had this talk a few weeks back, after my trial. You can't save everyone. You're not like the guys in the comics we used to read, the shows we used to watch. Sometimes, people aren't going to make it. You can't keep blaming yourself for that. You'll take everyone down with you."

 

"I know, I know. It's just..."

 

"You're pissed off at Jaxo. She put you in a horrible situation, asked you to make a horrible decision. It wasn't what you expected from her. You thought you knew her better, and now you're angry with her, and with yourself, but you don't want to admit it because you don't want to tarnish that image you have of her in your heart."

 

"Yeah" he said softly as he handed the bottle back to his sister.

 

"I get it. I really do," she took another swig, "because it took me four days to come to grips with that. I spent a lot of time in Justicar territory in those four days. Let's just say there'll be a lot less non-Republic approved justice being meted out in that area now. You're going to have to find a way to come to terms with this, little brother."

 

"I really loved her, y'know... I mean before Elara came along. She was brash, impulsive, fun... she was..." he cleared his throat and turned his head.

 

"She really loved you too, Bro. When we would go out, she'd always ask about you. When you told her you were with Elara, she was crushed. We spent two straight days bar hopping through the Old Galactic Market sector. She took me to some seedy places. Really developed a mad-on for Elara too." she laughed.

 

"I just... when I try and remember her now, it always ends with her asking me to sacrifice those people."

 

"Yeah, but you didn't. She was wrong to do so, but don't let that drag you down with her."

 

Bro chuckled, "Y'know, Tanno said something similar."

 

"That chaavla gave you good advice that didn't involve a grenade? You sure we shouldn't check for rain in the cargo bay?"

 

"I know, right?" Bro laughed. "But it's easier to deal with, when I approach it from that perspective."

 

"That mean you're good?" Kiera looked over at him as she handed back the bottle.

 

"Nope... but I'm working on it." He took a long pull.

 

She kicked her feet up on the console and put her hands behind her head.

 

"Sometimes, little brother, that's the only thing in life you can do."

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

I apologize to Yuun. I totally swiped his commentary during the scene, and attributed it to Bro'Kian's father, Gen. Thall'Kian. It struck me as something a great leader would say.

 

I wasn't pleased with the A-77 incident. Excellent story plot, great quandary for the Trooper with very real consequences, but it changed the way I view Jaxo. I loved Jaxo, and it broke my heart when I had to tell her Elara and I were an item. When she turned around and was willing to sacrifice all those prisoners, it confused the hell out of me. Changed her whole personality, IMO.

 

Edited February 8, 2014 by DarthSillyMonkey

[SifaSeven]

Comments

 

 

Zethrodek: Ow. On the one hand, Xynri should have talked to Corso about this life-changing decision. On the other hand, Corso could have been upfront about his thoughts. Bad situation all around...and feeling their pain.

 

alaurin: I don't blame Felix's brain for short-circuiting! That dress in Kabe's drawing is GORGEOUS! A moonlit walk would be so romantic and maybe they should make an early exit...as Jorgan makes his very fashionably late entrance. lol

 

Yoshi: DUN DUN DUN! Love to see where this is going.

 

"My Father, My Hero" This is such a sweet story. And when the kids find out who the hero of the day really was, their awe and respect for their dad is awesome to see. <3

 

Stridges: It's a double-edged sword. Varrel would have welcomed Masken as an ally...if things had gone differently. It's refreshing to see Varrel acknowledge that some Imperial officers are actually competent (instead of treating them like ****). Masken chose the wrong time to voice his opinions, and paid for it. You can feel Varrrel's regret.

 

sthrift: love this most recent installment:

 

“What in the good galram were you thinking you karking idiot?!”

 

“Thanks Top.”

 

If Voslic could have seen the First Sergeants face, he would have seen closed eyes and a face colored with embarrassment. “Maybe that should have been ‘What in the good galram were you thinking you karking idiot, SIR?”

and:

 

" Maybe you want me to RSVP next time Choun?”

 

Corporal Choun shook his head. “You think you could? If I knew you were going to be a “Plus-1” Private Thana and I would have dug a bigger hole!”

 

The rounds crashed down around the fighting position. The first sergeant thumbed toward the explosions. “That there’s my RSVP.”

 

Voslic rolled over on his back and pulled his helmet off. “I’m getting too old for this nerf-****.” He grumbled.

 

“Well hell Top, if I’d known you’d be bringing the Major with you, I’d have broke out the fine china. Baked a cake. Something.”

 

BWAHAHAHA!!!! Love the sarcastic humor among the troopers. They bring a human element to this chaotic war.

 

 

Now, Part I of "Family Complications", in which Kezz gets a shock, his adoptive father makes an appearance, and Vector Hyllus has some 'splaining to do. This happens after Hoth but before Belsavis, so Vector, Lokin and Temple are on board, but not SCORPIO. (I'll do a 'The Story so Far' in the near future)

 

Title: Family Complications

Prompts: Family. Oh Well That's Awkward

Characters: Ke'zz'aril (IA), Graydenn (SI), Kymma (IA, Sniper, mentioned), Temple, Vector

Setting: Phantom X-70

 

 

Kezz sat in in his quarters with his ever-present datapad in hand. He glanced through mission parameters and mission reports with a critical eye. Occasionally, he made a correction: a misspelled word here, a better choice of phrase there. Clarity and precision were two qualities he valued most, especially when he had to use a standard procedure..

 

It was the way he lived his life. To his credit, he forced himself to be more flexible in his dealings with others. Most times, his Intelligence missions never went according to plan. When that happened, he had learned to be inventive. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. He spent hours analyzing the pros and the cons after the fact, and added them to his contingency plans.

 

Yet the most unexpected events still managed to catch him off guard.

 

A discreet knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Ensign Temple standing in the doorway, looking particularly nervous.

 

"Yes, Ensign? What is it?"

 

"Holocall for you, sir, directly from Dromund Kaas-"

 

"Keeper? Put her through."

 

She hesitated a moment, then added, "It's not Keeper, sir. The call's from the Sith Citadel."

 

He frowned, but not for the reason Temple probably thought. If the call was from the Citadel, it could only be from one of two people. Three, actually, if he counted Darth Zhorrid, but why would she call him?

 

"Whatever it is, I'll take care of it."

 

"Yes, sir."

 

Temple fled back to the Bridge, while Kezz keyed in his personal comm code. He didn't like dealing with Sith...well, with certain Sith. For every Darth Jadus and Darth Zhorrid, there were others like his sisters Ali and Sionae. Not all Sith were terrible, but Kezz found himself dealing more and more with the insane ones lately.

 

A familiar image appeared on the screen. The newly appointed Darth Oculus stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. Kezz observed his ramrod-straight posture and his piercing blue eyes. Granted, he was not as muscular as other Human men, but he possessed a strange aura that commanded one's attention. Humans called it charisma; Chiss called it gan'ji, the ability to sway others.

 

"My Lord," Kezz greeted. "This is a surprise. How may I serve?"

 

Oculus 's mouth twitched in humor. "You can drop the formality, Ezzar. Gods' sake, relax a little. This isn't official business.."

 

Kezz chuckled at the older man's exasperated look. "Sorry. I just wasn't sure how to address you, now that you're on the Dark Council."

 

"It's Darth Oculus in the council chambers, but it's still Lord Graydenn Dreamwalker otherwise, and it's still 'Dai'hru' to you. That hasn't changed a bit."

 

He laughed aloud. Dai'hru meant 'adoptive father', and Lord Graydenn took the title seriously. Graydenn's older daughter, Sionae attended the Sith Academy at the same time as Kezz's sister, Xa'lila. An alien acolyte faced more difficulties, even if that acolyte came from a race who was considered an Imperial ally. Sionae and Xa'lila survived their Trials and Sionae asked her father to accept Kezz and Xa'lila as her adopted siblings.

 

Sionae also had sister in Intelligence, a sniper named Kymma. Cipher Ten, but Kaliyo was fond of calling her "Cipher Nine and Three Quarters." Kymma only laughed at the Rattataki's strange sense of humor.

 

"Very well, Dai'hru." Kezz sobered a little. "Has something happened?"

 

"Actually, I need to talk to one of your crewmates. Specifically, the Joiner diplomat, Master Vector Hyllus. There are some questions I must ask him."

 

Kezz raised his eyebrows. He hadn't been aware that Vector even knew Lord Graydenn, but he carefully hid his surprise. "Of course. I'll summon him-"

 

Another soft knock on the door interrupted him. Kezz turned to see Vector in the doorway. The Joiner had a troubled expression on his face.

 

"Agent, may we talk? We have a...dilemma, and we need your advice on the matter."

 

"Come in, Vector. I was just about to call you." Kezz moved out of the way of Lord Graydenn's holographic image. "I didn't know you knew each other. Darth Oculus-also known as Lord Graydenn Dreamwalker-is my adoptive father."

 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Kezz frowned; in all the time he had known Vector, he'd never seen the diplomat so on edge. This must be a serious dilemma indeed. Kezz opened his mouth, but closed when he realized Vector wasn't really upset. He was nervous.

 

Vector, nervous? What in Aristocra's name is he nervous about?

 

For his part, Lord Graydenn regarded the Joiner with a steady look. "Ah, it's good to finally meet you, Master Hyllus. Your record in the Imperial Diplomatic Service is impeccable, and I've heard good things about you."

 

Vector bowed his head. "We live to serve, My Lord."

 

"As Ezzar can tell you, I'm not one for beating around the bush, so to speak, so I'll be frank." Lord Graydenn's face was serious, but Kezz saw the amusement in his eyes. Wicked amusement. Kezz knew that look and braced himself for the storm.

 

"Master Hyllus, what are your intentions regarding my daughter?"

 

Kezz's jaw dropped. He shot to his feet and stared at Vector. "What?"

 

"Perhaps we should explain, Agent-"

 

"Perhaps you should."

 

 

Notes

 

Kezz is known by Ezzar by his family. It's his Chiss core name. (Ke'zz'aril)

 

In Kymma's in-game universe, she and Vector are married. Here's how it happened in this universe.

 

Edited February 7, 2014 by SifaSeven
typographical error

[YoshiRaphElan]

Starting from my last post...

 

Comments:

 

@frauzet, finally off Ord Mantell? Celebration time!

 

@sthrift, nice battle piece. I'm a sucker for military fics.

 

@DarthSillyMonkey, the Jaxo thing is super-hard. Prudii didn't have much easier a time with it than Bro did.

 

@SifaSeven, I imagine it'd be a surprise to find out your friend was going to marry your sister!

 

[bright_ephemera]

Week of 2/7/2014

Achilles' Heel - Our characters are powerful combatants, talented tacticians, clever diplomats and all-around legendary figures. However, everybody has that one "thing" that gets to them, that hurts them, or that proves their vulnerability in some way. A fear of heights... a particularly sensitive spot or old injury... an intolerance for bright sunlight... an irrationally severe dislike of womp-rats... what's the one thing that gets to your character, even on a good day? Prompt courtesy of TrystanLaryssa.

 

And, as ever,

Night of the Living Prompt: Keep on using any prompt you like! Check out the list at http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=5223753&postcount=1675.

This week's featured NotLP:

Teachers and Heroes - Everyone has someone they look up to, or someone who's taught them something important. Or a hero that they strive to be like. Who does your character admire and look toward when they're not sure what to do? Who has had an impact on making them the person they are today?

[Allronix]

Prompt: Communication Breakdown

Title: Strange Bedfellows

Warnings: None

Spoilers: Nar Shaddaa Consular class quest

Word Count: 1252

Characters: Alylia Terel (Jedi Shadow), Tharan Cedrax

 

 

 

Mental manipulation, colloquially known as “The Jedi Mind Trick” was a common technique, a tool taught to Padawans as a way to obfuscate enemies, gain information, or defuse conflicts in a non-violent way. A push of the Force behind one’s words, accompanied with a focusing gesture, was no more morally dubious than any other Force technique. So long as it was used for the greater good and never for personal gain, it was an acceptable tactic, especially when it stopped a fight before it started.

 

Dr. Tharan Cedrax vehemently disagreed.

 

“Never do that again. Not in my presence.” Tharan sat next to her in the back seat of the speeder as the pilot droid guided it to Shadow Town, cross-armed and sourly looking straight ahead. Every time he tried to look directly at her face (and not her chest, legs, or other anatomical region), he never did it for long. It was a common enough human response. They relied on their eyes, Master Yuon had said. Alylia had always been a little confused by the importance many species placed on eyes – most species saw only very limited spectrum of light, and seemed blind by comparison.

 

“We defused the conflict before he could draw his weapon,” she answered. “Did you want those mercenaries to start shooting?”

 

She sensed the flicker in his aura – green-gray anger by a human’s description. He was not mollified in the slightest. “Yes, by invading his mind, brutalizing him, and stripping away his capacity to reason. That’s horrifying, Jedi. Nothing justifies it. ”

 

Alylia felt her jaw tighten. For all his alleged genius and scientific prowess, the man was dangerously lacking in tact or common sense. “You would have been fine with him and his friends shooting at us?”

 

“It would have been his choice not to listen to reason,” Tharan said simply. “And if his inability to listen to reason when he has my scattergun and your lightsaber pointed at him gets him killed, then the choice was his to make. ”

 

“And here you were, boasting you were a pacifist.”

 

“I am – by Nar Shaddaa’s standards. Life is sadly cheap here, and while I don’t welcome violence, it is an unfortunate reality. Do you know how many thieves have tried to make off with my inventions? I’ve had to give Holiday her own security system at considerable expense.”

 

“A lot of trouble to preserve your toys, Cedrax.” It was far from a kind or diplomatic thing to say, and Alylia knew she was risking it. She still needed his help against Duras Fain, and she wouldn’t have been able to get this far without his help.

 

“She may be holographic, but she is anything but a toy. Holiday is very much alive, I assure you.”

 

Alylia chuckled darkly. “Then why can’t I see her?”

 

“Jedi, I realize you’re used to brute ‘Forcing’ your way across the galaxy. Your kind are plucked from infancy, cloistered, cut off from all but a single emotional tie, and even then they discourage anything but dogma and duty. And upon maturity, you are little more than a deadly weapon to be pointed at your religion’s enemies. I won’t hold that ignorance against you, but there is your world and the world the rest of us live in; one where the Force means nothing and those ties, messy and irrational as they can be, are everything.”

 

He was asking for a telekenetic shove. There is no emotion; there is peace. “I don’t think you understand Jedi very well.”

 

“And I don’t think you understand regular people very well,” Tharan fired back. “Do you even know what you look like to someone who can’t use the Force?!”

 

“Blind and helpless,” Alylia said dryly.

 

Another flicker of his aura – he was actually amused by that. “I’ll admit, the mask is a little off-putting. From what little I know of Miraluka physiology, your optic nerves are completely vestigial, and I can find absolutely no data on the differences in neural patterning. Damned frustrating there are so few of your species in the galaxy that aren’t tied up in that equally frustrating order of yours…”

 

Following the man’s thought process was like trying to chase a darter-fly – even without actively trying to read him, he seemed to bounce between five to seven ideas at any given time.

 

But even as he prattled on about scientific matters and the minutiae of Nar Shaadaa, his words bothered her. She’d only been off Tython for weeks. She had been part of the Order since Master Yuon plucked her from the wreckage of what had been a home. She knew, vaguely, that she had a family once, but the concept was distant and strange. She only had the one clear emotional tie, a weakness, and that was Yuon. Even the mission she was on, while ostensibly for the order, was in service of her master, with a very real possibility that Yuon would have to be sacrificed for the greater good. She took a measure of pride, as did all Miraluka, in a sight that could disregard a lack of light and walls, see into auras, and cut through lies. The idea Tharan didn’t even possess a rudimentary sense of spirituality made him even more alien than Qyzen.

 

There wasn’t a way to turn that sight on herself, however. What did she look like to someone as Force-blind as Tharan Cedrax?

 

One of the six or seven trains of thought Tharan was keeping was colored dark, sick “reddish-brown” – fear. His indifferent appearance and attempts at neutral conversation, trying to cover for the fact he was terrified of her. Focusing on strong emotions and petty matters to create “static” was a way to shield one’s self from a Jedi’s scans. More than one Jedi Master learned the finer points of playing mental games of pazaak or dejarik to distract anyone nosy enough to try and read their thoughts.

 

If I could do it to the mercenaries, I could do it to him. Just a little push, long enough to take out Fain, get him safely back to his shop, and never see him again. It would be for the greater good, save lives. None would be the wiser, and he wouldn’t be afraid.

 

If you do that, he should be. He would at least be aware of the possibility, and if she was going to come to any accord with him at all, she would have to cut a deal.

 

“Dr. Cedrax…Tharan. I give you my word – my personal word – that I won’t use the Mind Trick in front of you or on you.”

 

His eyebrow raised and the six or seven tracks in his head suddenly snapped into single focus. “Your personal word? As Alylia Terel, no ‘of the Jedi’ in that?”

 

“Just my word.”

 

“Then accept my apology for being a bantha’s rear. I may not understand your order, or the Force, but I ought to be accustomed to strange bedfellows by now.”

 

Alylia matched the raised eyebrow, though it was obscured by her mask. “I’m sure you like making strange bedfellows, Tharan.”

 

“I’m more into charming ones who can keep up with my intellect and my insults,” he said, obviously back to flirting. “Besides, Fain’s the real problem here.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

The shuttle landed and Tharan got out first, opening the speeder door. “Shall we?”

 

It was an uneasy alliance at best as they walked into one of the galaxy’s darkest holes, but at least it was an alliance.

 

[bright_ephemera]

Very quick note - DarthSillyMonkey, A-77 is set between Belsavis and Voss, which is a waypoint I think only two classes have, which is why nobody ever knows how to spoiler tag it. So, uh, now we know!

[Striges]

@sthrift: More great stuff. The touches of realism mixed with dark humor make your stories special. My personal favorite line:

“Maybe that should have been ‘What in the good galram were you thinking you karking idiot, SIR?”

 

@DarthSillyMonkey:

That particular quest inspires a lot of stories, a lot of different reactions. It’s interesting you turn the reaction around. Obviously, Jaxo’s death and his part in it bothers Bro’Kian. The fact that she’s not okay with his decision is more than a guilt trip. It says a lot about her, and not all of it positive.

 

 

@SifaSeven: Ah, yeah, that’s really awkward. I loved that all parties were uncomfortable.

 

And welcome Allronix! Tharan really dislikes manipulation, and I like this little conversation with Alylia. She figures out so early that they will never agree on that particular subject, and tables the discussion. Smartly done.

[LaxKnight]

First I would like to thank everyone for their comments. I'm glad everyone liked Walkie Talkie. You weren't half wrong Striges, she was definitely inspired by Mako but then I thought to myself 'Self, with a computer in her head how is she able to process and communicate all that information so well?' I felt that someone who thinks as fast as a computer should 'try' and talk that fast as well. I'm glad you like the name SifaSeven. The explanation in the story is how I came up with it. I'm using her for a forum RP right now and she is such a blast to play. I enjoy it so much I figured I ought to share her with you all. I'm glad I managed to capture her rapid speech and bluntness. I'm happy that you like how I handled it TrystanLaryssa. Even to her her own past is a mystery! Don't worry you will see more of Walkie Talkie soon though I will get a story up for the new prompt first. Now before I get too behind, comments!

 

Comments:

 

 

@Mirdthestrill I read your First Blood story when there weren’t any spaces and now that you edited it, it looks a lot better. It’s a good read, really showing the differences between the two characters even though in the game they mirror each other. I also noticed in the title that this is Part 1. I have a feeling Part 2 is going to be good.

 

@Zethrodek This was a sad Goodbye. Like everyone else has commented, both sides were justified to be upset but it is still sad none of the less. Shows everyone has their limits.

 

@alaurin The dislike of formal social events is one I empathize with. You describe the discomfort quite well. That is a nice dress by the way. Hope Felix gets lucky!

 

@YoshiRaphElan Your Reaching Across the Stars piece is written very well. The way you have it set up, gives me a bit of suspense and I can see it turning into a horror/suspense tale. First thought that came to mind was Alien. The idea of being stuck on a ship with something evil that you have no idea what it is, that’s scary.

 

@Striges For Don’t Make Me Destroy You, I recently completed that mission with my Sith Jug when you posted it so the situation was fresh in my mind. Moff Masken brings up a good point and one I agree on. A bunch of normal people being used as pawns in some Sith’s backstab and power grab plot. This is why many of my Empire Non Force characters don’t like the Sith (such as an IA whose intro is in the making). Varrel had a good reason for killing the man but that just sucks.

 

@frauzet Poor Nikeo. I know when I played I wasn’t expecting a promotion so his feelings on it are credible. It was also awkward how the guy who was your superior is suddenly under you. That’s uncomfortable to say the least and it showed. Even with the banter I’m glad to see Giz and Corso getting along. Glad they are finally done with Ord Mantell. Now onto ‘Hating Coruscant I’!

 

@sthrift Glad to see another installment of Exercise. Being in the air wing, it’s nice to see how the infantry works. The sarcasm when crap hits the fan is priceless and genuine. What was Voslic thinking running out in an arty raid?! Good initiative, bad judgment. He got lucky this time.

 

@SifaSeven Kezz’s reaction to Lord Graydenn’s news was priceless. It’s also nice to see a Sith who isn’t so stuck up all the time. It is a very well written piece and I enjoyed it.

 

@Allronix This is a good read. I’m at that mission right now with my JC and Tharan brings up an interesting perspective on Force Persuasion (I personally didn’t do that at that choice, just saying). I love how he was perfectly okay with being shot rather than seeing her use Force Persuade. The differences between Force Users and Force Blind people is shown really well here. Typically in my experience, using Force Persuade doesn’t work out well for me.

 

@DarthSillyMonkey, YoshiRaphElan, Sorry for not reading your stories but I haven’t reached those parts yet for my characters. I got one for every class and my highest is my Sith Jug on Hoth right now (definitely don’t want his story to be spoiled!) Thanks for the warnings and yet again sorry for not reading them.

 

[marissalf]

First some comments:

 

@sthrift,

Mortars are funny things. ...

This whole paragraph is great. The details about the sound the gun makes, explaining that slim window to respond after hearing it fire. It gives you an insight into what Voslic’s thinking when he’s out there.

 

@SifaSeven, Ya know, meeting the parents can be bad enough, but when one of them is a Sith on the Dark Council, that would be terrifying. No wonder Vector was nervous! And “Cipher Nine and Three Quarters” - ha! I like it.

 

@DSM, First, good to see you're back in prolific form Leave it to good ol Doc to fix ya right up. Second, Bro’s pain is understandable. Knowing you couldn’t help your former love - awful. Having that person beg essentially makes the situation about as difficult as it could possibly be. There’s no way to come away from that and not be traumatized in some way.

 

@allronix, Both Tharan and Alylia have good arguments there. Stopping a fight from ever breaking out is obviously good from a safety standpoint, and it makes sense that the Jedi would see no problem with this. But the point Tharan has about it being an invasion of the mind is excellent. Very interesting debate on which is the lesser of two evils.

 

 

As for the story: Boring Conversation Anyway

With Mel, Gault, Mako and Torian, about 600-ish words

Spoilers: None

For indexing, I'd place this one after the Irresistible Urges story.

 

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your shadow.” Gault’s tone was dry as always, but with an edge that cut through what would normally be just another glib remark. He knew about her and Ellis, Mel surmised, and for some reason that bothered him.

 

“I take it you’re referring to...”

 

“You and the doctor? Worst kept secret this side of a Nar Shaddaa spice den, Peaches.”

 

Mel raised an eyebrow. “Peaches?”

 

“Trying it out,” he shrugged. “I figured you wouldn’t take as kindly to ‘Red.’”

 

Mel wrinkled her nose at the nickname, all but confirming his theory. “‘Peaches’ makes me sound like some sort of cat. Or a stripper.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Gault mused. “I’ve heard people speak fondly of both.”

 

“Funny.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for,” he muttered before he turned his attention back to cleaning his rifle.

 

Mel rolled her eyes. “What’s up with you? The snark seems unusually thick today.”

 

“Me? Nothing, Red. Just steering clear of Professor Evil’s latest experiment.”

 

Exasperated sigh. Not this again. Mel couldn't go a whole afternoon without someone expressing displeasure with the Elektra's newest passenger. “You don’t like Ellis either. Got it. You and my mother can start a club. Publish a monthly newsletter.”

 

The Devaronian struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from twisting upward. “I never said that. Though I can’t help but wonder why you do.”

 

“I hardly think I need to justify who I choose to spend my time with to you of all people.”

 

He set the weapon aside, propped his feet up on the table and crossed his arms. “Me of all people?”

 

“Yeah, you. I don’t judge you for the parade of half naked skanks that stumble off my ship every time we hit another port. And, really? In the medbay? We use that for...for medical purposes!”

 

“Excellent job not judging, boss. Remind me to stand waaaay behind you next time you’re ‘not shooting at something’ too.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means your aim’s about as shaky as your taste in men.”

 

Mel reached for her gun. “You want to shoot? We’ll go right now. I guarantee you’ll get your a*s handed to you. Again.”

 

*

 

Torian sat with his back against the wall, eyes closed and expression decidedly amused. Even when Mako plopped down beside him, he scarcely moved from his post.

 

“Whatcha doing there, Torian?”

 

“Listening to Mel and Gault spar. Much safer than watching.” He paused to take another listen. “Sounds like a draw.”

 

Mako snorted and rolled her eyes. “Nope. They’re both losers.”

 

“How do you figure?”

 

“Because after this is over, he’ll stomp off to the shower for at least half an hour, and she’ll retreat to her room for the rest of the night. Tomorrow morning it’ll be like nothing happened. They’ve been doing this practically since they met. And they’ll keep doing it until they give in a admit that they want each other.”

 

*

 

“You arrogant, slimy, waste of space—”

 

“—stubborn, spoiled, hypocritical—”

 

“Spoiled?! Oh, that’s rich. You’re the one who blew his entire fortune on—”

 

“You’re lecturing me about money? I seem to recall your little shopping sprees—”

 

*

 

Torian glanced over at Mako. “Those two want each other? You’re certain?”

 

“Any idiot can see that the fighting is just an alternative outlet for their burning, unrequited passion. Or something like that.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and Mako sighed.

 

“I’ve got to get off this ship. The cheesy holonet romance novels are starting to get to me.”

 

Note:

 

For those unfamiliar, in my stories Ellis Lokin is Dr. Lokin’s son, a scientist Mel picked up to help unjoin her mother Kinka from the killik hive mind. Because he’s a Lokin, Kinka is extremely suspicious of him, and the rest of the crew doesn’t exactly warm to the man.

 

[DarthSillyMonkey]

Comments, comments, comments!

 

 

@Zethrodek: Veeeeeery interesting take. I like how you worked in the species change from the appearance changing kiosk, and I loved the idea that you visited how something like that would affect crew members who were close. How she dealt with the loss was interesting as well, as it seemed to fuel her new animalistic nature, and yet as a sentient being, still wound up feeling hollow.

 

@Alaurin: That was a nice piece that spoke a lot about Lissa and where she is at now. Interesting to see what the Lauren gals will do with the war being over. Nice description of the gown, too. I could really envision how it looked based on the details.

 

@Yoshi: Ok, I LIKE where I think the Jasin story is going! That's going to be a d*mn interesting take on that scenario, and I look forward to reading more.

 

The My Father, My Hero piece was a heart tugger. I remember finding out some things about my dad that made me think like that, and I totally remembered that when reading this piece. Very nicely done, sir!

 

@Striges: I agree, Masken deserved better. Funny you should talk about lvl'ing your IA and SW together. I did the same, but my SW finished first. It was through his storyline that I developed Fenn'rys' opinion of the Sith. Depending on how you play your SW, you really start to feel for all the non-Sith who get involved in the power play process. I thought your piece captured that perfectly. Also, I couldn't help but be reminded of Piett's meteoric rise through the ranks, when Varrel gave that field promotion

 

@Frauzet: Congratulations! That was an excellent story arc, and I loved reading it. The three differing perspectives in your final story were great. Nobody feels like they won, making Ord Mantell almost like a background villain, as it links all three together in failure. Loved Lo's final line. I think it sums everything up nicely.

 

@Sthrift: Ok, I laughed hard when Voslic came rolling back into the hole, much to Vik's surprise. The run across the field was great fun too. I love how Voslic interacts with the lower ranks. Casual, but in command. Ain't no time for griping about courtesies when you got ordinance all over the place.

 

@SifaSeven: Nervous Vector? Love it. The last few sentences were killing me. Interested to see how this plays out.

 

@Allronix: What a great back and forth between Tharan and Alylia. He brought up some interesting points in his little rant. Jedi tend to forget (or don't know) what it means to just be a human, doing human things, surviving as best you can. They tend to get disconnected. I like that Tharan put that back in her brain. Also, I like the use of aural colors in her discovery of his fear of her. Very nicely done.

 

@Marissalf: HA! Gault's jealous! Peaches, Torian and Mako... I would quote lines from this piece, but it'd just be a repost of the entire story. Great job at keeping me smiling!

 

 

[LaxKnight]

Here is another story, this time on Gloria. I felt like the ending wasn't the best but I'll see what you guys think. First comments.

 

@marissalf The back and forth arguing is great and funny. Mako makes a great observation for I came to the same conclusion. It's funny that Mako and Torian would sit outside and eavesdrop as to escape their wrath if they were caught watching. And Peaches? That made me laugh. Great story.

 

Prompt: Teachers and Heroes, Legacy

Title: What Would He Do?

Character(s): Gloria Tevens (Republic Marine)

Timeline: Before Get Together

Word Count: 1,010.

 

 

What would Daddy do? That was the thought that ran through the head of Private First Class Gloria Tevens as she had her back against the wall. Though helmetless, her rifle was raised and pointed at in the threshold. In the room with her was Corporal Relsing tending to an incapacitated and injured Staff Sergeant Persus and Ambassador Willsalva hiding behind her desk. The embassy shook again as another explosion went off nearby. She could hear voices of in the hallway as they tried to search for the Twi’lek ambassador undoubtedly to take her to the Imperials.

 

While many Republic Marines have the privilege to serve aboard starships, Gloria’s first assignment after ITB (Infantry Training Battalion) was to guard the embassy on Alderaan. The planet seceded from the Republic while it’s trying to resolve its civil war and their trying to get it back. Her job was to protect the ambassadors and any classified information stored here. Her father warned her to always stay vigilante and today it paid off. She and a few other Marines in her command, ten overall, were patrolling the halls when the first artillery shell hit the embassy. She ran to the vault to find the Staff Sergeant knocked out by falling rubble, Corporal Relsing deleting all the classified files off the computer, and the ambassador screaming with her hands flailing in the air. After a few minutes the data was deleted, the ambassador was calmed, and the OIC was being tended to. Now here she was with one civvie, one fellow Marine, and an unconscious Staff NCO (Non-Commissioned Officer) against Force knows how many baddies out there. She didn’t even know how many of her comrades were still out there kicking.

 

“Why are they here? Are we going to die?” the ambassador asked in fear. The green skinned Twi’lek’s lekku were quivering as her yellow eyes peered over her hiding spot.

 

“We’re going to be fine, ma’am. We are trained for this,” the PFC said firmly.

 

“Staff is going to be fine,” Relsing said, “What are we going to do now?”

 

Gloria’s looked back at him. He was ranked higher than she and though he did a good job at hiding it, she could see the doubt in his eyes. Like a disease it spread to her, beginning to fill her up with fear. Her eyes reverted back to the threshold as it tried to seize her. What should they do? Even her superiors were didn’t know. Persevere, her father’s words came back to her, Keep fighting and the way will eventually be clear. She remembered him saying that when he was talking about his mission on Taris. Bedtime stories for her as a little girl were his missions of old. She was always so fond of them and wanted to grow up just like her Daddy.

 

With new found courage, she looked to her NCO with her fiery blue eyes. “Corporal, pick up the Staff. We’re going to take him and the ambassador to the emergency shuttle,” she said.

 

As Corporal Relsing began to get the Captain into a Fireman’s carry Gloria got closer to the door and leaned out to the side with rifle raised to meet any threat. No one. With deliberate care she went to the other side of the door. No one. Waving the others the all clear, she went out into the hall with Ambassador Willasya following a bit behind and Corporal Relsing bringing up the rear with the OIC on his shoulders. They proceeded with caution, stopping at every junction and corner but they somehow managed to evade their enemies. When they got to the final corner before the emergency shuttle, Gloria peered around to see two men dressed in House Thul uniforms looking extremely bored as they looked out at the shuttle, their backs to her. There was also a third at the shuttle, looking as if he were trying to slice it. She took a moment to aim then fired.

 

She managed to fire two shots and take out the men taking guard before the third at the shuttle reacted. He managed to draw his pistol at take a few pot shots before she put him down. She took a moment before she advanced with the others in tow. She went to the shuttle and found that the man she killed there had something else in his hands. An alarm. “Fierfek,” she quietly swore and turned to the others, “Ambassador we need you to get in the shuttle now.”

 

The frightened Twi’lek began inputting the codes to the door lock while Corporal Relsing laid Staff Sergeant Persus on the ground as he and Gloria guarded the official. After a minute two more men appeared from around the corner. The two Republic Marines quickly put them down, making the ambassador jump. “Ambassador we need in now!” Corporal Relsing yelled at her.

 

Her fingers quivered and shook as she finally put in the code and the ramp came down to let them in. The Twi’lek ran inside as two more of House Thul’s men appeared. “Take the Staff inside!” Gloria yelled as she laid suppressive fire on them.

 

One man managed to roll behind cover while the other wasn’t so lucky and got gunned down by the PFC. Corporal Relsing grabbed the Staff Sergeant’s backplate and dragged him inside as he had one hand on his rifle to help return fire. The ship began revving up, leaving Gloria to fire on the now three men attacking them. “Get in the shuttle, PFC!” the Corporal yelled through the comlink in her ear.

 

“Negative, Corporal,” she said as she managed to take out a man armed with a rocket launcher, “I got to stay behind and help the others. My father told me we never leave a man behind. Get the ambassador to safety!”

 

There was a pause before he replied, “Tell your father he was a great man. Good luck out there. Out”

 

The ramp closed and the shuttle took off, leaving the embassy in PFC Tevens’ hands.

 

[YoshiRaphElan]

Prompt - Discovery

Title - Search for the Dark Side

Class - Jedi Knight

 

 

Jasin sat, staring at the star map, waiting for revelation to come. The dark presence was beginning to hollow out his mind; he was having trouble focusing on anything else. Following the Force's guiding, he touched a button on the star map, closing in on the Imperial sector of space. Frowning, he stared at the condensed map, knowing somehow that the dark presence was originating from there.

 

He pressed a button, causing the map to rotate continuously. He watched the planets rotate by, his jaw set. Finally, he reached out and stopped the rotation, zooming in on a single planet–not actually even a planet, really, but a moon.

 

"Scourge!" he called. "I found it."

 

Scourge rushed into the cockpit and sat down in the copilot's seat. He looked intently at the hologram of the moon flickering softly in the dim light of the cockpit.

 

"Taris' moon," Jasin said. "It started there."

 

"Let's go," Scourge said softly.

 

* * *

 

He still didn't know who he was, but at least now he knew what he was. The people behind the wall–he could sense them, and he'd talked to them a few times–had told him. He was a Sith. That was why he had a red beam, which the people behind the wall had called a lightsaber.

 

He was a Sith.

 

Pacing the room, hands behind his back, he wondered why they didn't tell him his name. Memory flashes had started to come...memories of a jungle planet. Large, gray-skinned beings. Flashes of blue and red light. A world that was one big city. A man–a gray-haired man.

 

"Jedi," he said suddenly. "The enemy of the Sith. Jedi."

 

"Yes," said the voice from the speaker above him. "So you do remember."

 

"I do," he said, his voice catching. "I...remember."

 

But he didn't remember everything. Why not? Why couldn't he remember? Angered, he grabbed the side table with his mind and hurled it across the room.

 

Who was he?

 

* * *

 

The ship came out of hyperspace over Taris. Jasin was saddened to see the planet under Imperial control; he remembered so well the time he'd spent on Taris, helping to restore the planet to its former glory. Now, it was nothing more than rubble once again, holding only a few Imperial outposts.

 

"Head for the moon in the asteroid field," Jasin said. "There's no oxygen so we'll have to wear enviro-suits."

 

Scourge nodded. "You prepare the suits, I'll pilot us in."

 

"Agreed. It's time to get to the bottom of this."

 

[SifaSeven]

Replies coming very soon...so far, the stories are awesome!

 

For now...Part II of "Family Complications" (or 'When the Blade met Bugboy"). This takes place during the Alderaan Bonus Series (about level 40). It's a flashback told in Vector's POV. How/When did he meet Kymma Dreamwalker (Kezz's adoptive sister)? And what role did Kaliyo play in all this? Spoilers for the very beginning of the Agent storyline.

 

Title: Family Complications, Part II ("When the Blade met BugBoy")

Prompts: Family. Oh Well That's Awkward, First Impressions, Canned Responses (several are in here)

Characters: Ke'zz'aril (IA), Kymma (IA), Vector, Kaliyo, Lokin

Setting: Alderaan (Bonus Series)

 

Warning: A blink-and-you-miss-it squicky medical moment. Really brief, but worth mentioning.

 

 

Flashback, three months before, on Alderaan.

 

Vector knew they were in trouble. He twirled his staff and stabbed a rogue Killik in the back, right at that vulnerable spot behind the head. The Killik's legs folded underneath itself and it fell flat on its face. A second Killik slashed at his shoulder. His armor deflected most of the blow, but the poison still burned.

 

We fight for you, we fight for the nest. He didn't regret his decision to fight against the hive. He was an Imperial, first and foremost. Being Joined didn't change that. The first time,Cipher Nine had refused to allow the hive to take over House Cortess. Lady Cortess had been dealt with; Cortess was now a staunch Imperial ally. It would have been a shame to waste such a resource for the Empire.

 

The Hive Queen had not liked his decision, but she understood that he was a son of the Empire.

 

Apparently, not all Killik nests agreed with her, and now the price would be steep.

 

Green mist floated around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cipher Nine launch another kolto probe. The Chiss had his hands full, with trying to keep both of them alive and defending himself at the same time. Ke'zz'aril's reflexes were still blindingly fast, but fatigue and exhaustion were taking a toll on them.

 

Another near-miss, and another burn seared his right side. He stumbled and gripped his electrostaff even tighter.

 

"Vector?" Kezz shouted.

 

"...not doing well..." He muttered under his breath.

 

An enraged Killk larvae snapped at Vector; he avoided the blow and pushed the creature aside. Then he turned and leaped at the Killik before it reached Cipher Nine. Unfortunately, it anticipated his move and a muscular tail slammed into him. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him.

 

Cipher Nine also went down as the Killik struck him from behind. His rifle and vibroblade flew out of reach. Vector caught a glimpse of Kezz's pained face as he landed badly on his left shoulder. To his credit, Kezz didn't cry out, but his aura flared a dark crimson. Vector tried to move, to help, to do anything, but it hurt too much.

 

The Killik chittered among themselves. Their prey was now helpless. An insectoid head loomed in Vector's vision, its jaws snapping in anticipation. He closed his eyes and waited for the killing blow...

 

WHUMP! WHUMP!

 

Vector's eyes snapped open as the Killik flew backwards several meters. The whine of a high-powered rifle shot rang out again and the Killik fell like a stone.

 

He rolled over and pushed himself to his knees. For a moment, he thought Kezz had somehow recovered his blaster rifle, but the Chiss lay motionless on the ground. Vector crawled over to his side. He was no medic, but the spiky flashes in Kezz's aura told him enough.

 

A boom of a scattergun erupted somewhere to his right, and Vector ducked involuntarily. The remainder of the Killiks skittered away at this new threat. Soon, the sounds of battle faded into silence.

 

A woman raced across the field and knelt at Kezz's side. Her long black hair hung in tangles and her armor was singed, but the force of her personality hit Vector like another physical blow. A deep purple glow surrounded her, with jagged yellow lightning at the edges. She pushed her sharpshooter goggles up to her forehead. Piercing blue eyes set in a high-cheekboned face, ruby red lips.

 

She managed to get Kezz's helmet off. The Chiss's face was a pale blue several shades lighter than normal.

 

"Ezzar, if you die, I'm going to kill you myself," the woman muttered under her breath as she checked his vitals.She had the clipped, precise accent of someone from Dromund Kaas. "His shoulder-"

 

"He landed badly," Vector confirmed.

 

"It's dislocated. We'll have to set it, the sooner the better." She glanced at him and added, "This will be ugly, but it's necessary."

 

"Understood."

 

The woman showed him how to hold Kezz down and she took Kezz's left arm. Vector steeled himself for the inevitable, but Kezz's cry of agony pierced through his defenses. The woman's eyes glimmered with unshed tears, but her face stayed resolute.

 

"Vector!" Lokin threw himself at Kezz's side; the doctor's breath was ragged, and he had obviously been running.

 

"We're all right; the Agent's hurt. We must get him to a medical facility as soon as we can."

 

Lokin nodded and began to stabilize Kezz for transport. Vector turned to the mysterious woman and said, "Thank you. You saved our lives-" Then he realized she was no longer looking at him, but at Kaliyo Djannis, at Lokin's far side.

 

Kaliyo stared back. The hostility rolled between the two like an oncoming storm. Kaliyo's mouth twitched in dark humor. The woman's eyes hardened as the silence stretched on.

 

Suddenly, Vector found himself wishing he was somewhere else.

 

Finally, Kaliyo drawled, "Well, hello, Blade. Quite a while, no see. Been busy since Hutta, huh?"

 

The woman-Blade, Vector thought-smiled back, but it showed teeth. "If you've hurt my brother, Kaliyo, I will make you pay."

 

"Your brother?" Kaliyo glanced at Vector. "You never told me you had a sister, Bugboy."

 

He shook his head and said, "She's not our sister." At the same time, Blade retorted, "He's not my brother."

 

"Oh? You two look similar enough to pass, or maybe like a loving couple on the cover of 'Imperial Entertainment'." Kaliyo ignored the snort of irritation from Blade.Vector blushed under his helmet and was glad neither woman could see it.

 

Kaliyo's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Who the kriff is...wait, the agent is your brother? Kezz? Funny, you don't look Chiss."

 

"It's a long story. I might tell you sometime." Blade's voice indicated the topic was closed. She nodded at Vector. "Sorry, we haven't been introduced. Cipher Ten, Imperial Intelligence."

 

"'Cipher Nine and Three Quarters' is more like it."

 

Vector ignored the interruption, much to Kaliyo's amusement. "Vector Hyllus, Dawn Herald of the Oroboro nest. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cipher Ten."

 

"Likewise." Cipher Ten smiled and Vector found himself mirroring the smile.

 

"We're ready," Lokin called. "Careful, now."

 

Vector turned to help Lokin with Kezz's unconscious form. He spotted Cipher Ten on the other side, supporting her brother. This time, he wished she could see the look of gratitude on his face.

 

 

Notes:

 

 

For those who haven't played the agent storyline, the Agent poses as the Red Blade (a notorious pirate) when he/she meets Kaliyo on Hutta.

 

Yes, the deal between Kymma and Kaliyo will be explained. Vector and Kezz will be indirectly involved.

 

[Striges]

@Marissalf: Mel and Gault’s ongoing argument was great, especially with Torian and Mako’s commentary. Especially Torian’s last statement. Cheesy romance novels.

 

@LaxKnight: I liked Gloria looking for advice and inspiration in her father’s words. And at the end, knowing she chose well.

 

@YoshiRalphElan: Still avoiding JK spoilers, I’m afraid.

 

@SifaSeven: ah, good intro. I have the sense of a prologue here, that there’s a lot more to come.

[Striges]

Prompt: Culture Shock (oldie but goodie) with a small dose of Teachers

 

Character: Jurial (Jedi Sage), Qyzen mentioned.

 

Title: Heralding Understanding

 

Spoilers for early interaction with Qyzen. No spoilers for JC story in general. Chronologically, occurs after Epiphany.

 

 

Qyzen insists I am the Scorekeeper’s Herald. I stated before that this bothers me. His religion centers on the pursuit and death of living creatures, the more deadly the better. None so deadly as other sentients. All as sacrifice to his goddess. She demands blood and the hunt and he must provide them to be worthy in her eyes. I cannot be the harbinger for such a deity. Killing intelligent beings for points is anathema to me.

 

I realize today that his religion is not about death. It is not about killing. Score is a way of tabulating his achievements, as other beings collect titles or degrees. Points is a poor translation of a very difficult concept. At its heart, Qyzen’s religion is about challenge. About testing yourself against something difficult and succeeding. Easy prey are not acceptable. A challenge is not worthy without risk. Otherwise it is not a challenge.

 

This I can understand. I seek out questions and concepts I find difficult because the easy ones hold no interest for me. No challenge. And a challenge is not worthy without personal risk.

 

Furthermore, part of what drives Qyzen is his unerring belief in his Scorekeeper. His faith. This, too, I can understand. Appreciate even more, perhaps. I can touch the Force, sense it, feel it, direct it. Qyzen has no such assurance of his goddess’ existence. And yet, he still believes.

 

Not every Trandoshan shares Qyzen’s views. For some, the hunt, the death, the killing is everything. Blood sacrifice to the goddess. This is why they have such a fearsome reputation. Such a poor reputation among less predatory species. But when have believers ever all agreed on the nature of their gods?

 

Jedi like to believe that the Force is one, that all the multitude of deities in the galaxy are manifestations of the Force. That a species’ beliefs define how they experience and understand the Force. How they explain it. If indeed all faith is one faith then I can accept Qyzen’s belief without hypocrisy. If it is not, then I can at least accept that he sees in me the embodiment of the ideals his goddess espouses.

 

I hope I do honor to his belief and faith as I strive to live by my own.

 

 

Notes:

According to official sources (Lucas), Jedi are supposed to have the best grasp of the Force. A number of alternative belief systems also exist, which the Jedi recognize as Force traditions though the their followers have different names for them. The Trandoshan Scorekeeper, to my knowledge, is not one of them. That said, it makes sense to me that Jedi would see all mystical traditions as manifestations of the Force.

 

The Scorekeeper to me seemed like a jab at munchkin RPers (not players of Munchkin RPG), or else a lampshade of traditional RPGs. It’s hard to take this deity seriously. It’s especially hard to do so with Jurial, but the game makes a particular point of the herald business.

 

[frauzet]

Comments:

 

@sthrift: And again you leave me waiting for the next part eagerly. Of course I liked the part with Voslic and Vic, and I laughed although I reckoned that Voslic would be back very early. The description of the mortars made Voslic's trip to the next hole feel much more real.

 

@DarthSillyMonkey: For me one of the most intense scenes in the game. Interesting to see Bro'Kian's and Kiera'Kian's reaction to it. Tanno's way to deal with the problem seems very fitting for him, and it seems like he got through to Bro'Kian

 

@SifaSeven: Interesting family background. And Vector's first smile, hidden behind a helmet *sigh*.

 

@Allronix: This conversation between the JC and Tharan is on my to-do list.

He was asking for a telekenetic shove. There is no emotion; there is peace. “I don’t think you understand Jedi very well.”

 

“And I don’t think you understand regular people very well,” Tharan fired back.

It will take a lot of time to change that.

 

@marissalf: I love Mako's analysis of the situation. Sounds very accurate.

 

@LaxKnight:

Gloria’s looked back at him. He was ranked higher than she and though he did a good job at hiding it, she could see the doubt in his eyes. Like a disease it spread to her, beginning to fill her up with fear. Her eyes reverted back to the threshold as it tried to seize her.

Guess that's the hardest part of the job, to radiate confidence even if you don't feel it.

 

@YoshiRaphElan: more mystery...

 

@Striges:

This I can understand. I seek out questions and concepts I find difficult because the easy ones hold no interest for me. No challenge. And a challenge is not worthy without personal risk.

That's a good way to understand others, to search for similarities instead of pointing out differences. Very fitting for a JC.

 

[alaurin]

Index is up to date! I'm a little behind on my reading (stupid cold and wanting to finish the next part in the Lauren girls' thread keeping me occupied) so I'll comment as soon as I can get caught up.

 

However, I realized that with two story threads, I might as well throw something out there for the Pimpin' Threads prompt. So here goes for anyone that likes my SFC stuff (I'd like to hope there's one or two out there ):

 

 

Alaurin's Pimpin' Her Threads!!

 

In addition to the stories I’ve posted on the SFC thread, I have two fanfic threads going:

 

The Love of Family Makes Us Stronger- This is the Lauren girls’ story thread and delves a little deeper into their backstory starting from Mallay’s fifteenth birthday……the day their father was killed. This story mainly revolves Bella and Mallay, the two oldest siblings, but force sensitive twins, Lissa and Ros will be making more frequent appearances as the story progresses. There’s love, humor, lots of shenanigans, some action, good times, bad times, and most of all, family. Family is the central theme to this story so the girls will visit their home on Dantooine from time to time with their companions (some of those appearances have made their way to the SFC thread).

 

Driven By the Bonds of Family- This is my newest story thread and mainly revolves around Cathar littermates, Kat and Tia, and Mirialan, Val. Their storyline started with the Technology prompt last fall, where Tia diverges from the normal Trooper story to go behind enemy lines. Combine that with their parents' murderers finding out Kat and Tia survived and their story just grew into this huge thing that I feel warranted its own thread. It delves a little deeper into the girls as they’re starting out in their class stories…..thank you Syncronicity prompt. Zyra-Kat, Val, and Tia’s Twi’lek friend from Nar Shaddaa who was kidnapped, Jakkob-Kat and Tia’s long lost littermate, and Layna-Jakkob’s friend will make appearances as the story progresses. This story delves into Cathar culture a little, tying into NPC’s found in game. In regards to the Cathar culture, some of it is taken from what little I could find on Wookieepedia, but a lot of it is stuff I made up that fit in with what I found. Also, this storyline is a little darker than the Lauren girls’ thread, but there’s still plenty of humor, shenanigans, and love.

 

Tumblr-I have a Tumblr and can be found as alaurin101 there. That is my thinking place….and an excellent source of distraction. I mainly post previews/sneak peeks of upcoming stories and the occasional dribble of writing issues I happen to be having. I play along with the occasional meme and am just about finished with the 20 Days of Tor one (got some fun pics for Day 18 last night).

 

I’ve recently delved into the male character perspective of SWTOR in order to experience their romances and have written some things for them that I plan to keep solely on Tumblr for now. I was surprised at the number of flirts the males get vs their female counterparts and was worried that Smuggler Jax was going to end up with an STD before even getting to Act 1! Alas, it was Trooper Zev that closed the deal first and I got a nice kissy pic for posterity.

 

I also post pictures of my fanfic characters, companions (lots of Jorgan because I have issues….don’t judge!), kissy pics, random NPC’s (I recently posted a couple Captain Cormac pics that people seemed to like), and of course my dog and cat. I tend to like/reblog pretty things, SWTOR fan art, and Han Solo gifs (ah….a teenage alaurin’s crush) make up the majority.

 

Well, that about covers it......Pimpin' Time is over. Now, back to getting that story finished so I can catch up on my reading.

Edited February 10, 2014 by alaurin

[Lesaberisa]

Firstly (and most importantly!) welcome to all the new faces, it's great to see you Activity comes and goes in this topic, but it's always nice to new people with their own, different, perspectives on the stories and characters we've come to love (or hate!).

 

I'm really really far behind in comments so I'm going to skip them for this post. I'm hoping to finish the next bit of my bounty hunter's origin story and another short ready quickly enough to not be so behind next time. Lo siento.

 

First of all, I'm introducing my new, not-any-game-class, character, Vharmir P'loesti. I created him on a whim based on a meme we were doing on tumblr, and I actually have some uses for him. You can read the background here.

 

Character: Vharmir

Prompt: Worst Day Ever

Notes: No game spoilers.

 

 

Another day, another guilt trip from Ma and Pa about getting on with my life. Like usual, that just meant joining the military and going off to die for the damned cloudheads on some planet nobody had ever heard of before a battle was fought and would be forgotten just as fast.

 

Kark that, I’m not going to sell myself out like those other guys.

 

It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the war. The cloudheads might be arrogant *****s, but at least they weren’t as bad as the Sith and the other *******es over in the Empire. That didn’t make their fight my fight, though. Just meant I hoped enough of ‘em stayed alive to keep the Empire away. We didn’t need even bigger kark-ups screwing things up down here.

 

“Won’t you ever think of someone other than yourself?”

 

That’s what Ma always tried to guilt me with. When I was younger I thought it was cause of Pa, since he went off and joined the army. He came back with one fewer leg and one hell of a drinking problem though. Couldn’t imagine Ma wanted me to turn out like that waste of space. Karking idiot was bad enough before he got the damn fool idea to serve the Republic. Serve the interests of the cloudhead bureaucrats and plutocrats, more like.

 

Didn’t seem like there was a whole lot to look forward to either way. I had no place in the cloudhead world, unless it meant suiting up and dyin’ for them. Had nothing to look forward to down here, either, other than running my parents’ discount clothing knockoff store. Some life.

 

No wonder the vid theaters do so well down here.

 

It was going to be just me and Lyrus today; most everyone else was busy with work or planning something else. I didn’t understand why so many of them were doing it, but even Tyria and Alan were thinking of signing up and getting their few thousand credits in exchange for dying for their suddenly precious Republic. Didn’t make a damn bit of sense. Didn’t seem like much did, these days.

 

Most of the vids at the cinema were stupid propaganda stories because of the war. Battle of Bothawui was a particular favorite, really fired up the idiots that came into the store every day. Me? I was more interested in the newest Blasto vid . Much better to escape the prison that was everyday life than become a willing part of it. Lyrus wasn’t as big of a fan, but we’d been going to his stupid spy vids for so long that he owed me more than just one – we’d seen so many that I’d bet the Imperial accent I’d picked up imitating them was better than most of the actual karking Imperials.

 

Blasto versus the Reapers was a lot more interesting, anyway. We had enough problems with everyday life. Fighting for a voice to speak for us, fighting for enough food and power and supplies to make it through another week. Stupid cloudheads didn’t understand – they bought into myths just as much as we did, only harder. I hadn’t ever seen a Jedi except for the time some green-skinned one with tattoos on his face came and took Portia from her parents.

 

Karking Jedi.

 

I saw Lyrus across the plaza and waved him over. He wasn’t the most interesting guy…okay, he was about as engaging as an akk dog, but at least he knew when to shut up. He joined me at the door and we grabbed our caf and food for the show. There was a steady stream of others just like us – just regular folk with nothing to dream of except for the adventures they saw in the vids.

 

The previews came and went, but I didn’t really pay much attention. I’d be seeing them all one way or another anyway. I lived one hell of a life. Finally, after what felt like forever, the theater exploded with sound as the vid started – explosions and blaster fire all over the screen as Blasto did his thing. I noticed that the room was even shaking a bit, like they’d installed some kind of device into the floor and walls to give an even more immersive experience.

 

It took me a minute to realize the shaking wasn’t from the vid. Not all of the sound was either.

 

Place cleared out faster than the brothel on La Perrier Street when the local police came swarming, and I was right with them. The sky was dark when we got out of the theater, from the clouds that weren’t clouds and the rain that wasn’t rain. The ground was shaking beneath us, and the hordes of people rushing to where ever it was they were going pushed Lyrus and me apart.

 

Didn’t matter. Only one place to go. Only one place that mattered.

 

For the first time in my life, I prayed to whatever gods my parents believed in. I prayed, I swore, I begged and I cursed.

 

Only the thunder of death and destruction answered.

 

 

And here's a couple of pieces I already posted on my tumblr (my apologies to people who have already read them )

 

Character: Ayrs (trooper)

Prompt: Affection, technically Behind the Scenes

Notes: no game spoilers.

Trigger warning: very sappy. Sorry.

 

In-Unverse notes: The following was found on a crumpled piece of paper outside the Maker’s Temple in the Manarai Hills district of Coruscant. Its author is unknown.

 

 

Today is the greatest day of my life, the happiest, and the one I’ll never quite believe ever happened. I’ve never been more scared than I am right now.

 

I first met you on in the kind of place that dreams to go to die in. I thought I was just there to hunt down another traitor, just try to make it through another day, and maybe try to get Jorgan eaten by a rakghoul. There wasn’t a whole lot to like about Taris – it was hot and humid and everything reeked of something just plain awful.

 

And, then I met you.

 

Smile at her

 

I’d like to say I knew what you were going to mean to me from the moment I met you, but I’m not stupid enough to try. What I did realize, though, is that there was an incredible woman that wasn’t appreciated nearly as much as she should have been. You stood up to the colonel, even though it would get you in trouble. You helped us complete our mission, when no one else would. You put up with people treating you like the enemy when you were actually their greatest ally. You even put up with my occasional lapse in comm protocols with regards to non-mission critical communications.

 

Laugh awkwardly. The joke is funny, but the guests might not get it. Screw ‘em

 

Lucky for us, and luckier for me, General Garza pulled the strings we needed to have you join us. I learned even more about you…and myself. We’re both without most of our families today, but not for the same reason. Difference is, I lost ‘em, and then lost myself. You sacrificed your chance to be with them, along the life you’d thought you would live. Not because of anything superficial, not because you didn’t like them or anything…but because it was the right thing to do. It was hard, it was painful, but you had to do it.

 

I think back to how many times I let something slide because it was easy, and I realize how stupid I was.

 

That’s the thing I love about you, more than anything else. Most people have their weakness, that spot you can tweak ‘em just right to get them to bend their rules, to do something they shouldn’t. You don’t. In a galaxy full of people that might show one face to you one day and another the next, you’re a constant reminder that we can be better. That I could be better. That I should be better.

 

Pause here. If you can handle it, look her deep in the eyes and give her a non-**** eating grin

 

Before I got to know you, I’d done a real good job of convincing myself that there wasn’t anything better…that I was meant to fight for a future I had no part of. It was only later, once I got to know you, that I realized that didn’t have to be true. Knowing someone like you saw something in someone like me…well, that’s the kind of realization that can knock some sense into even the biggest idiot. Not that that I’m anything near an idiot, of course.

 

So, here we are, and I still haven’t said what I’m here to say. Talking about my feelings isn’t my thing, especially not when it’s my feelings about you. Easier to show how I feel about you than to say it, but some things just need to be said and can’t be acted out. Especially in public.

 

Laugh. Pretend to be nervous if the guests don’t laugh too. Smile if they do

 

I pledge myself to you, from this day until my last. I pledge my undying love, my unwavering loyalty, my unending devotion, my eternal gratitude. I pledge myself before the eyes of the Maker, those that watch us here and those that watch from above.

 

Take a breath

 

The galaxy can be a dark and scary place. Sometimes, even the best of us need a guiding light, bold and bright, to show us the way. Thank you for being my guiding light…and so much more. thank you for finding within you to care for and love me when even I couldn’t, and I can’t tell you how much that meant to me

.

Poignant pause

 

You are more than a person to love. You are a reminder that I have too much to live for to keep being afraid

 

I am not afraid any more. I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.

 

Dramatic pause

 

And I am yours, to face whatever the galaxy sends our way. I will be by your side, now and forever. That is where I belong. There’s nowhere else i’d rather be.

 

Kiss her. Kiss her like you did by the lake on Naboo

 

 

Character: Malicineve (Warrior)

Prompt: Paying the Piper

Notes: Major Sith Warrior spoilers.

 

 

The ship was quiet at night. Quiet, dark and at peace – the way I would have it at all times if I could. At night, I could stride the corridors without fear of being ambushed by one of my remaining crew members – I need only fear the attacks from the shadows within.

 

The ship was emptier now than it had been since I left Balmorra, which felt like a lifetime ago. In some ways, it was exactly that. I had first set foot on the vessel as a young apprentice of a man I had thought was a model Sith, the kind my father would have been proud to see me serving as I joined the Sith Order. I had been a naïve and foolish child, and it had only been because of his foresight that I had survived long enough to be put in that position.

 

And yet…

 

Dark corridors lined the ship, tracing the outlines of rooms where even darker deeds were done. Pierce had forsaken my bed cautiously and without notifying me, but I did not need the Force to know where he had gone. My apprentice had once been my most trusted companion, but I could no longer look at her without wondering when I would sense her blade aimed squarely at the small of my back. Of course, she is what you made her. Jaesa had once been an innocent girl, too. Until I had slaughtered her family and friends, tortured and tormented her mentor and twisted her into something else.

 

I frowned at that thought. Jaesa made herself what she was, as well.

 

As I entered my bedroom and noted the damage I had refused to have repaired, I realized it was not Jaesa who was responsible for the dark clouds that always seemed to be there on the horizon. It certainly was not Broonmark, either, as even I had felt some sense of relief seeing the stupid beast taken down by a Republic soldier on Ilum.

 

It was Quinn’s voice that I heard in my darkest of nightmares, it was his corpse lying on the floor of that station I saw so many places I traveled to. It puzzled me – I had felt more for him than I had any other man, perhaps even to the point of genuine affection. Even admitting that, though, I did not understand why his betrayal and my necessary retribution continued to linger on in my conscience. He had proven amusing enough in bed, if overly dutiful, but there had not been much else there to expect such an effect on me. He had been an oily snake in the grass, a deceptively loyal-seeming charlatan determined to see me undone.

 

I had never felt more right than I had the moment I had crushed his windpipe with the Force, and felt his presence leave his body to find its way to whatever Hell was reserved for traitors such as him. Quinn had wormed his way into my good graces, planning to use my weakness against me. That could not be tolerated. Treachery could not be tolerated. Weakness was not to be tolerated either, but what of my own weakness? How can you blame the scorpion for stinging you when you invite him into your arms?

 

Only Vette understood, from what I could glean from the furtive glances she directed at me when she believed I was not paying attention, perhaps not realizing that the Force allowed me to be aware anyway. We had been together for several years now, yet she remained a mystery to me. I had released her from the collar a second time, even told her that I no longer considered her my property, yet she remained a part of my crew. One I will never understand.

 

Her constant chattering and inane commentary irritated me as much today as it had the first day I had met her on Korriban, and yet it was also strangely comforting in its own way. It was a perplexing situation that reminded me that command of the Dark Side meant nothing if you were not in command of yourself.

 

I sighed at that thought and stepped in front of the mirror that adorned the front of my closet. Most Sith would have used it for preening and self-adoration. I had no use for such egotistical nonsense. Perhaps, once, I might have, but I had learned more than once that there was no point to such vanity when you were as likely as not to find yourself dead the next day.

 

The face that stared back at me was scarred and strangely unimpressive for one that would call herself the Emperor’s Wrath. Lines had formed when the weariness from existence married the despair of loss, marring what others had previous termed my ‘harsh’ beauty. There were creases around my lips, too, but not from the constant smiles I would have preferred, and the scar that crossed from one side of my forehead to the other was a permanent reminder of my battle against the Hero of Tython, the so-called Knight of Dawn.

 

The face was also a lonely one, tired – both mentally and physically. For too long, I had struggled forward as my father would have willed it. It had not gotten me the power he had claimed it would. I had not arrived at some grand destiny, as I was supposed to have.

 

I was alone.

 

I was uncertain.

 

For the first time in my life, I was afraid. Not of physical harm or death, though. Of having my entire existence be utterly meaningless.

 

As I traced the scar that started below my ear and snaked its way down my neck, I wondered how it was I should feel at this moment. Regret? I only regretted that I seemed unable to have regrets. Sadness? I did not know if I could truly say what that was.

 

The face in the mirror had no answers for me. Neither did Vette or Jaesa or Pierce or anyone else.

 

Perhaps there were no answers.

 

Perhaps there was nothing but a glorious death in service to the Emperor ahead of me.

 

Perhaps, for the first time since my father had killed the little girl I had been, that was no longer enough.

 

 

And since Alaurin has inspired me (to point the finger at her for my own crassness!), some minor thread pimping

 

I Remember Me is the story of Ayrs Martell, my trooper. It begins with him thinking his entire family is dead and that he has little to live for except taking out some Imperials/bad guys before he goes too, and is inspired by the Mass Effect quest of the same name to an extent (especially vis a vis the feelings of loss and alienation, as well as the idea that he can't go home again). As the story progresses, Ayrs slowly rebuilds not just his life but his sense of self-worth, especially once he discovers his sister - Veresia - is still alive. A terrifying mix of banter/jokes, action and romance (soon), the story currently has Ayrs and his intrepid squad on Alderaan dealing with nobles. Specifically, the young Valyn Thul, who has decided to fangirl hard for Ayrs, which scares the crap out of him.

 

One Light in the Darkness is the story of Ayrs' sister, Veresia. Presumed dead along with the rest of her family, Veresia was actually captured and sold into Imperial slavery. Eventually, her strength in the Force was discovered, and she was sent to Korriban to begin her training as a Sith. She struggles greatly with the competing desires to both honor the lessons her Jedi father taught her while seeking vengeance on both those responsible for what happened to her friends and family and the Sith/Empire in general. Currently, Veresia is on Tatooine, trying to avoid getting a nasty sunburn while controlling her urge to kill Andronikos Revel. A darker story than Ayrs', with more of a focus on Veresia's increasingly great struggles with her identity and role in the galaxy.

 

There's some pretty extensive background which factors into their specific takes on the class stories, as well as some events that occur on top of in-game events, but nothing too crazy. Apart from the family tree I made. And the extensive notes. Okay, maybe it's a bit crazy.

 

Anyway, in the SFC thread you'll see those two plus mainly three of my other characters - Amitia, my happy-go-lucky Jedi Knight, Malicineve - my over-the-top evil Sith Warrior and Amurri - my bounty hunter who has the headcanon origin of having been on the wrong side of the Mandalorians' Crusader Schism. Amurri might get her own topic for a story I'm cobbling together but I haven't decided if it's substantive enough to warrant it. My agent (Mina), consular (Olympia) and smuggler (Teela) will also make occasional appearances but to a lesser extent, for various reasons.

 

Lastly, like Alaurin, I'm also on tumblr - I post some short stories there (which I'll generally also post here eventually). Possibly (?) more interesting to any readers would be the character profiles and more psychological analysis I do of them, plus I can go into more depth replying to comments, like here, with a particular part of Bright's comment on Ayrs' threat concerning his behavior toward Duke Organa. There's also gifs of cute cats and Game of Thrones things, as well as general complaining about Bioware/gaming. Yay!

Edited February 10, 2014 by Lesaberisa

[Phyreblade]

Prompt: Achilles Heal

Title of Fanfic: Forging a Destiny

Spoilers: Sith Warrior class story, immediately following Balmorra

Characters: Lusiel Phyre (Sith Warrior), Malavai Quinn, and Vette

Note: My warrior struggles with a regular habit of forgetting to eat. She's not anorexic, by any means. But food is one of those things that just doesn't occur to her, when she's working or fighting. Throughout the Fic, it's Quinn who makes it a point to remind her she needs to eat something, before she becomes physically incapacitated.

Warning (!!!) -- A very heady flirt scene, here. I did remove some of the more graphic elements that I originally included in the Fic. But if you're offended by the idea of necked-ness, I do apologize.

 

 

Quinn located Lord Lusiel in the ship's mess, early in the morning that first day after they left Balmorra. She was hunkered down in a chair with her head resting in her hands with her arms propped up on the mess table, obviously pained. Across from her sat the Twi-lek girl, her lekku twitching, as she pushed a plate heaped with various foods across the table towards the Sith. Lusiel merely groaned. Quinn might have agreed with her sentiments, as the food didn't look particularly appetizing, a matter he would devote his attention to as soon as possible. But Quinn felt Lusiel's immediate distress was more important.

 

"It's because you keep missing meals, my lord. All that jumping towards the people you have to kill and swinging yer lightsaber … I'm telling you, you burn off more energy than you consume," Vette was saying as Quinn entered the room.

 

"Vette, please. I do eat."

 

"Hah, when's the last time you actually ate a full meal?"

 

The droid standing nearby the food producer helpfully responded to the query. Quinn wasn't sure what was more absurd. The droid's tone or its attire. Someone had draped a red apron around its neck that was emblazoned with a large pink heart and the words, "Everyone loves the cook!" The droid's cheerfulness was entirely appropriate, given the prop. But the absurdity of the situation was striking. Quinn realized after only a moment he'd actually stopped to gape at the scene for some moments.

 

"Master actually ate a meal composed of chunks of nerf beef in brown gravy over a plate of white rice with green tubers on the side approximately two days, three hours ago, Vette," the droid recited.

 

Vette waved a finger towards her Sith lord. "See, told you so! You're not eating right!"

 

"Vette. I've eaten several things since then. Just … not a full meal. We've been running all over the damn place on Balmorra for two days, remember? You were there! And you ate at the same times I did!"

 

"First, that wasn't food. It was military rations. Except when we were at Mr. Stick in the Mud's place, that food was okay, and even then it was rushed. I think you inhaled that fish stuff they served for lunch! Second, you didn't really eat it. It just sort of disappeared into your mouth. Hello! The word is rushed, remember. Finally, you just plain work harder than me. I hang back and shoot blasters. You're the one jumping right in there!"

 

Vette eyed Lusiel balefully, as Quinn wondered if he was "Mr. Stick in the Mud". Lusiel poked her drooping head up, looking with dark-circled eyes at the Twi-lek, before glancing down at the plate of food. She groaned. "I just can't."

 

"Perhaps I can be of assistance, my lord." Quinn's remark startled both the women and they looked over to where he was standing, still, in the doorway.

 

"Can you get food down her throat," Vette demanded.

 

"Actually, I think if her immediate pain was relieved, she would be far better able to eat a meal."

 

"Well, I'm no doctor, so there's no way really to fix her up. Toovee has some healing abilities but his efforts haven't been particularly helpful, either."

 

Quinn looked at the droid he thought might be the "Toovee" Vette was referring to, draped still in that outrageous apron, and wondered what possible use the thing had if it could not produce an appealing meal nor provide adequate healing. It seemed to be capable of nothing more than entertainment, and even then it was more annoying than anything else. Perhaps he could adjust its voice parameters. The machine was a debacle.

 

"I myself have some healing skills, actually," Quinn said.

 

At this, Lusiel glanced up again, hopeful. "We do have a med bay just behind the bridge. Have you seen it?"

 

"Of course, my lord. It's stocked quite well."

 

"That's because no one really goes in there, except to grab some bandages every so often. I think our Kolto stores are completely full, even. I usually opt to visit a clinic on planet," Lusiel admitted.

 

Quinn shook his head. "That won't be necessary anymore. I assure you, I can provide any medical assistance the crew needs, my lord. Come, I'll show you."

 

Lusiel gladly followed the captain from the mess, moving down the hall towards the door to the medical bay. Quinn guided her to a nearby table, where he directed her to sit on the cushioned surface. He retrieved various instruments from the cabinets lining the walls, before approaching Lusiel, placing the items carefully within reach.

 

"You need to remove your robe, my lord. Just the top. I need to examine your lungs and heart, to ensure none of the medicine I might use will upset your system."

 

Lusiel's lips twitched. "Expose my chest to you, hmmm?"

 

"As part of a medical examination, yes, my lord."

 

"Ah, you're not being any fun, Quinn."

 

Quinn turned and reached for the appropriate scanning tool, as Lusiel peeled the upper part of her robe from her shoulders. The fabric dropped smoothly down her arms and back to pool in a bunch at her hips, leaving Lusiel completely bare from the waist up. It was the creamy expanse of her chest Quinn observed in all its perfection as he turned back around to face her again.

 

Quinn swallowed, staring, certain of exactly two things. One, that no woman, ever, had such an absolutely flawless feminine figure as Lusiel did. They're perfect, he thought wildly. And, two, no military protocol on any world or among any species could save him from making an utter fool of himself right then. He felt himself panting. Yes, like a dog.

 

He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, finally, and Lusiel sighed. Quinn's eyes had actually darkened, until the blue appeared so deep it reminded her suddenly of the way the space around a star appeared through the ship's forward windows. Just almost blue, she thought. She had long thought his eyes gorgeous. But this? Definitely something she'd need to see again. And again. She wondered if she could just keep his eyes that color. Could a man survive constant desire? Well, Quinn was clinical. Maybe he'd agree to help her find out. Just ... not right now.

 

"Quinn, if I wasn't sure my head was about to explode from this pain, I would say something particularly engaging. I might even take your hand and put it where I want it to be. But, alas, I'm hurting."

 

Quinn shook himself, looking away in order to focus on his work, scanning the Sith's torso for breathing and heartbeat sounds. His work was methodical as he mentally berated himself. Not even a full day passed, not even one day! The thump of her heart came through the scanner clearly. As he thought, Lusiel was incredibly healthy. He noted several scars on her chest and abdomen, however. One particularly large scar looped from her right hip up and over to curl across her lower back. Quinn frowned, identifying it as an old scar caused by a lightsaber strike. He doubted she was more than ten years of age when that wounding occurred.

 

After several more tests and scans, he was convinced Lusiel's severe headache was the result of inadequate diet, extraordinary fatigue, and, of course, stress. He prepared a dose of adequate medicine.

 

"My lord, this will make you sleep, because it's imperative you receive appropriate rest. I would rather you remain here in the bay in the meantime, so that I can continue monitoring you as the medicine works." Quinn gestured for Lusiel to repair her clothes, before he administered the dosage. She pulled her robe back up and over her shoulders.

 

"Thank you, Captain. See that I am woken in time for dinner, or Vette will nag me endlessly over skipping another meal."

 

"Of course, my lord."

 

Quinn stood there until the Sith had fallen to sleep. Then he moved across the room to retrieve a blanket that he used to cover the sleeping woman. He watched her for a few minutes more, observing her features when she was most relaxed. Her dark hair spilled unbound across her back and the surface of the table behind her, while her hands were pulled up and clasped together just under her chin. She looked … innocent, somehow. Hardly an image to coincide with that of the lightsaber-wielding bringer of death so many Balmorran rebels had met during their last moments.

 

Quinn shifted, feeling the tightness in his lower body that seemed to remain whenever Lord Lusiel was in the same room. He wondered suddenly if that would always be the case, if he would always want her as much as he did right then. Maybe the more important question was did he want to always desire her so much as he did right then? As he retreated from the bay, he looked back at her sleeping there.

 

At least he knew the answer to that question, Quinn thought, smiling to himself.

 

 

Prompt: Teachers and Heroes

Title of Fanfic: Hunting Destiny

Spoilers: None

Characters: Kastiel "Blade" (Bounty Hunter), Braden

Note: This is a prequel of sorts, that describes the first meeting between my Hunter and Braden. It never made sense that he recruited the Hunter out of the blue, I thought. So my Hunter had known him for years and years before finally meeting up with him on Hutta to start the Hunt.

 

 

"I'm looking for the doctor, girlie. He around here somewhere?"

 

Kas shook her head. "He was called over to that mess of a work site, where they're building that stupid statue. Some of the slaves got sick, not surprising for Dromund Kaas."

 

"Druk. I mean, dammit. Well, varp!" The bounty hunter glared at her, his bald head gleaming with sweat and specks of blood where he'd wiped against his brow. He held one strong fist pressed hard against the side of his stomach, but she could still see the blood pumping around his clenched fingers. "My language isn't exactly right for youngsters."

 

She snorted at him. "Have you seen this neighborhood? Your language, as you call it, is pretty tame. I mean, come on. What the kriff happened to your stomach?" She pointed to the bloody wound he was grimacing over.

 

"I … need a doctor, kid."

 

Kas crossed her arms across her chest, looking skyward as if for patience. "I told you, he's not here. Now, if you stop calling me kid, I'll take a look at your stomach. What do you say?"

 

"Oh? And how old are you, kid?"

 

"Twelve. Tobies Mor's been raising me, right here in this clinic, ever since I was itty bitty. And I ask a lot of questions, believe me. If that's a blaster-made wound, I have a good chance of fixing it. Up to you, though."

 

"How old is itty bitty supposed to be?"

 

"Gonna bleed to death before you let me look at it?"

 

The bounty hunter laughed. "You have real gumption, girlie. I like ya." He eased himself up onto a nearby medical table, scowling as his side twisted in the moving. He slowly took his fist away from his side, watching as Kas moved closer, pulling a tray with various medical tools along with her. He kept watching her, too, even as she worked fast to unbuckle his chestplate and cut the edges of his torn shirt away from the wound.

 

"Kriff, that hurts!"

 

Kas continued probing against the hole in the bounty hunter's stomach. The edges had been cauterized by the heat of the bolt, but the hunter's movement since the initial wounding had caused it to bleed steadily in the hours that followed. He was going to pass out very soon, she thought. It was imperative she get him settled before that happened, because there really was little chance she could move him very far after he became dead weight.

 

And based on the wound she was looking at, this bounty hunter wasn't keen on being found by any Imperial troops at the moment. It was a soldier's weapon that made the hole she was examining.

 

"Well, stop squirming around. Here. Pain relief. Then shut up." The hunter's features smoothed out as the medicine dispersed through the stim Kastiel applied to his side. He blinked at her, his eyes glassy and unfocused. She heard him murmur something low, more like a rumble of indiscriminate sound, his head drooping. She finished her treatment quickly, spreading salve along the wound before fusing the edges together into a neat, tidy line using a cauterizing tool. Wouldn't even scar, she thought proudly. "Okay, come on. Move towards the rear of the clinic, now. There's another room back there, easier to hide the entry way if need be."

 

"And why would ya think I need hiding, girlie?"

 

"Well, at least you're not calling me kid anymore. Even though you're still acting like I'm stupid or something. Hide. Now."

 

He shook his head, stopping to lean against the doorway into the room Kastiel was guiding him towards. He turned his head sideways, trying to appear stern and foreboding. "Don't be thinking you can get one over on me."

 

She sighed with some small degree of disgust. "Seriously? Hunter, if I'd been angling to get one over on you, I could've done so easily. With a stim. Just now. Druk, you're half out of it even now. Want to see if I can knock you over?"

 

He eyed her like she was half-mad, even as a grin inched its way across his tired features. "If you were male, I'd say you have balls."

 

"My being female doesn't make me a prissy little mouse, idiot."

 

He grinned at her again, just before stumbling inside of Tobie's hiding room. He settled himself onto the cot set against the back wall, groaning against the twinge of pain along his now healing wound. He draped an arm over his eyes, ignoring Kas as she checked the bandage she'd adhered to his side one more time. She set a droid in the room, then, directing it to provide water and foods as needed.

 

The hunter grunted only when Kas made to leave the room. "Not a mouse, no. A tough little nut of a female, rather. You'll go places, girlie. I'd like to watch you at it. What're you called?"

 

"I'm Kas. Kastiel."

 

"Braden is my name. Come talk to me later on. It'll probably get boring as druk in here before long."

 

"I won't leave you here to rot, sheesh. You'll be sick of me before the end, I bet."

 

"No way. You're too interesting. G'bye fer now, Kas."

 

 

[YoshiRaphElan]

Prompt - Worlds Colliding

Title - Confronting Himself, Part 1

Class - Jedi Knight/Sith Warrior

No spoilers

 

 

Jasin and Scourge stepped out onto the moon, their enviro-suits blowing oxygen onto their faces. Jasin led Scourge in the direction he felt the Force signaling him from. Ahead, Jasin saw an airlock leading into an underground structure of some kind. Together, they pulled their lightsabers off their belts but did not ignite them.

 

There were no guards, so they stepped inside. Once the airlock cycled, they pulled their helmets down to the back of their necks but did not remove them. Jasin frowned. The structure was almost completely abandoned; he sensed a few people farther in, but no guards...

 

But one of the people seemed to be the malicious presence he'd been sensing.

 

* * *

 

Methic frowned as the Fury was piloted down over Taris' moon. According to Jaesa, there was a very powerful dark presence emanating from here, and it could be a threat to all they had planned. Gripping his lightsabers, he stepped out toward the airlock, pulling on his enviro-suit. Jaesa stood waiting, her lightsaber clipped to the outside of her enviro-suit.

 

"There are others here," she said. "I can sense them. The dark presence...a Jedi...and a Sith."

 

Methic's jaw clenched. "We'll deal with that when we meet them. Come on."

 

* * *

 

He raged as he stomped around the room. Something was wrong; he sensed others like him–Sith–coming. But with the Sith were different presences. Jedi? He sneered at the walls. The people behind them were not speaking to him anymore, and it made him mad. He grabbed his lightsaber, ignited it, and began slashing at the walls, hoping to cut through and escape.

 

"Let. Me. OUT!"

 

* * *

 

Jasin slashed a hole in the door and stormed in. Those inside spun around in surprise. One of them grabbed a blaster from a nearby table and snapped off a shot. Jasin deflected it into the floor, Force-pulled the blaster away, and stepped aside as Scourge Force-blasted all three of them back into their chairs.

 

"Who are you?" Jasin demanded.

 

"We're...we're scientists," one of them stammered. "You're...a Jedi...but he's a Sith!"

 

"Long story," Jasin said, his lightsaber pointed at his throat. "How about you tell me one." He jerked his head at the one-way mirror occupying one wall, which showed a dark-haired man inside, slashing angrily at the walls with a lightsaber. "Who is he? He has the most malicious feel in the Force I've ever detected."

 

"H-he's an experiment," the scientist said. "W-we were commanded by the Dark Council to watch him."

 

"Experiment?" Jasin asked. "What did you do to him?"

 

The scientist hesitated. "We...created him."

 

"Created him?" Jasin asked, aghast.

 

"He's a clone!" Scourge exclaimed. "Force-sensitive clones often go insane!"

 

"This one was different! He was perfect...at least, until now."

 

"Who is he a clone of?" Scourge demanded.

 

Jasin didn't need to ask. He already knew, and his fears were confirmed as the clone spun around to snarl insanely at the one-way mirror. Everything was the same as the face Jasin had suspected. From the long jawline, to the brown eyes, to the matching brown hair, trimmed to shoulder length, and even the small patch of brown goatee on his chin.

 

"Me," Jasin said solemnly.

 

[bright_ephemera]

Comments (author alphabetical order, going back a couple of dozen posts)...

@alaurin, I like that as Tia faces Ekaterina she realizes she can't be the torturer Needles would have been. And then, d'aww, Felix and Lissa! They're adorable, even if they're stuck being visible at the party instead of making with the hanky panky someplace.

 

@Allronix, I was never sure why the Jedi Consular was assigned the galaxy's equivalent of an atheist. Even when he admits to the Force he seems to hate it.

 

@DarthSillyMonkey, it never occurred to me to think less of the NPC in question...when it comes down to it, nobody wants to die. I like what you did with this, showing how hard it is on both surviving parties.

 

@frauzet, ah, the end to Ord Mantell, undoutedly to Giz and Nikeo's relief! Nice to see someone stop Corso in his "lady"-defending tracks.

 

@LaxKnight, I love Walkie Talkie's concept. Not sure Krystal's going to be the best thing that's happened to her, but I like this meeting. Then, with Gloria - good to see a humanizing piece after the formality of Get Together (chronologically before, I know).

 

@Lesaberisa, I know there's a term for people who aren't cloudheads. You do a very good job of making Vharmir that sort of person (and proud). I may already have commented on Ayrs' sap as the sweetest sap and d'aww. You have me feeling bad for Malicineve - it's a cold realization for any Imperial or Sith to come to, that there might not be more than fighting and fighting and then dying.

 

@marissalf, I always love Gault. Great back-and-forth with Mel, and the romance-novel peanut gallery is terribly funny.

 

@Mirdthestrill, I like that Ketturah's not an accomplished pickpocket/all those other thieving skills characters can have magically granted when they're down and out. She has to find other ways to get by.

 

@Phyreblade, how well I know the personality type that just fails to process their own needs...by Balmorra, she has quite the retinue of beings to try to keep her upright. I agree with you that it makes more sense for Braden to have known the Bounty Hunter for a while, rather than picking her up off the street one day.

 

@SifaSeven, the reveal of Graydenn's question to Vector is priceless. Fun to see Kezz caught off guard, too.

 

@sthrift, I like seeing Vik as the trooper's main support just then. His bravado really shines.

 

@Striges, I did think Masken was pretty strident...I mean, I understand his frustration, but voicing it to a Sith is rather literally suicide. Especially when he makes it public insubordination. Meanwhile I never quite got used to Qyzen's kill-based honor system (funny, because with a Sith I'd fit it right in). Jurial's understanding of challenge as the honorable part seems just right.

 

@YoshiRaphElan, great gradual reveal. I like the buildup and the converging perspectives of Jedi and Sith. The Kira-Jasin storytelling story was sweet. Of course she'd be telling stories about how great he is - humility really isn't one of her attributes.

 

@Zethrodek, eee, yeah, I can see consequences for a species change. It may seem like a great idea, but...it's a major shift to undergo without consulting your partner.

 

 

[bright_ephemera]

I came up with a Boring Conversation Anyway for Ruth, set during her reconciliation process with Quinn fifteen years after the class line. I guess it comes after Nightmares and before the second half of As Time Goes By; it's closer to the former than the latter. 800 words, that Sith Warrior spoiler.

 

 

February, 27 ATC - 15.5 years after the confirmation of the Wrath

 

Dromund Kaas - the Niral estate

 

 

Quinn came to Ruth with caution in his eyes and tension in his hands, but he did come to her. They never managed to stay apart for long.

 

They settled opposite one another near the head of the dining room's big table at her estate. They talked about work and about politics as they ate. It was something more than companionable; she found herself smiling, and him too. Late in the meal, during a lull, Quinn pointed out a feathered mask mounted on the wall.

 

Ruth twisted to look. "It was my father's," she said. "Most of the decor here is."

 

"I see."

 

"I've nested in the great room, but most other rooms I never fully changed out." Odd now to think it had been fifteen years since the softspoken owner of these trinkets had left her. "You only met him the one time, didn't you."

 

"Yes. The day you came to seek his counsel, after Quesh."

 

When they first laid strategies against Baras. She realized then that this wasn't going to be one of the tender evenings. "I suppose you got a great deal of useful information out of that visit."

 

Wariness sprang into his expression. "I stayed as your guest. I never used anything I observed here."

 

"Just passed it along, hmm? You're always taking tactical notes for your master, Quinn, don't pretend you stopped here."

 

"I never gave him a word about your father. Except to say that he wasn't worth the effort."

 

The sting was as much indignance as anger. "That's what he was to you? Irrelevant?"

 

"No, but that is what he had to be if he was to be spared. I didn't want to see you torn down by degrees, I wanted no part of that campaign of attrition."

 

"No. You saved it for one hit."

 

He shook his head as if doing so could dismiss the point. "If I could convince Lord Baras that your father had no strategic value, not even to you...I thought I could save him."

 

Her throat worked for a few seconds while she tried to reconcile that. "You didn't," she said at last.

 

"No. I could not have predicted that he would leave."

 

"He left home to help me. To take the fight to my enemies. And he died for it."

 

"I know. Even I could sense your pain when you felt his death. But by then events were in motion."

 

Events, he said. How clinical. "Driven by you."

 

He regarded her with depthless blue eyes for a long few seconds. Then, deliberately, he pushed back his chair, stood, and paced toward the head of the table. "Driven by me," he said, almost too softly to be heard.

 

She set down her fork. She wasn't hungry anymore.

 

"Your father asked me something that evening," said Quinn. "He asked whether I loved you."

 

No good could come of prodding at that. "And?" she prodded.

 

He closed his eyes. "I said I had no answer to such an enormous question."

 

"You always have an answer, Quinn. That's one of the reasons I admired you."

 

He nodded acknowledgment, to both the words and their past tense, without looking at her. "Under the circumstances, knowing what was to come, how could I say yes? And yet...how could I say no?" How, indeed? That would have blown your cover. He seemed to wait for something. Was she supposed to sympathize with his efforts to hide his old treason? She yielded nothing. After a long moment, and a barely perceptible shiver, he started for the door.

 

"Can you say it now?" she said abruptly.

 

He stopped dead. Pain streaked across his lips and subsided. "Not so long ago you didn't want me to," he said flatly.

 

And whose fault is that?, she thought, and bit back the words. She didn't want this fight, but it always seemed to happen. She had forgotten how to speak without hurting him.

 

She could still close the distance, in a way. In silence she could reach across the bitter divide and hold him, redeem the old promises again. It was easier to make love than to live with it. Pride held her in place, though, as she knew it did him. "We'll talk another time," she said.

 

His face was perfectly still, for all that meant between them. "My lord," he said, and bowed, and saw himself out, and the ache of his absence settled heavy in her chest. Next time. Next time they wouldn't fight. Next time she would sweep aside the old hurts and give him a reason to stay.

 

Next time she would remember, long enough to govern her words, that she wanted him to stay.

 

Notes, Sith Warrior Act 3 spoilers:

I think I'm very bad at relationships that aren't two rational actors comparing notes, presenting needs, and wholeheartedly seeking a mutually agreeable solution. I have trouble with love and conflict rolled up together.

 

Ruth's father Colran Niral died facing down Lord Draahg just before Corellia.

 

[SifaSeven]

Comments (a lot of them):

 

 

About Family Complications: Yeah, I haven't seen Vector fazed much in-game yet (Kezz is on Belsavis and Kymma on Hoth, respectively), so I figured it would have to be something DRASTIC to ruffle his feathers. A future Sith father-in-law would just about do it. As for 'Cipher Nine-and-Three-Quarters' (glad you caught it, marissalf ), some of Kymma's story follows the IA storyline, but some of it doesn't. Can't have two Cipher Nines at the same time, lol

 

Now, to the stories:

 

DarthSilly Monkey: I haven't gotten to the Jaxo part on my Trooper yet, but yeah, from what I heard about it, it's pretty traumatizing to the Trooper. Vik's tough love on Bro sounds just like him, and Bro's agony is shared by EVERYONE, not just him. I'm glad Bro and Kiera were able to (start to) talk about it by the end.

 

Allronix: I can sympathize with Theran's POV on the 'Jedi Mind Trick'. I get the feeling that he's terrified about losing his free will and independence. He would much rather have a shootout than preventing it with the Mind Trick. I think it's a unique blind spot that Jedi have...the end justifies the means, even if others might find it abhorrent. Interesting look at Theran through Alylia's eyes. (Yeah, I've wanted to give Theran a force shove too. He can be insufferable).

 

marissalf: PEACHES? XD XD XD I love Gault, and the tension between Mel and him... Torian and Mako's commentary is hillarious.Cheesy holonet romance novels, Torian? Something you're not telling us about?

 

laxknight: WWDD (What would Daddy do?) I love how Gloria draws strength from her father's example and how it translates into her actions. Never leave a man behind...

 

Yoshi: Love the dramatic tension and the sense of urgency. Jasin and Scourge need to find this dark presence before something really BAD happens. Methic's on the trail too (nice use of Jaesa's ability) and the reveal was like... Oh, boy. Can't wait to see how this turns out.

 

striges: I <3 Qyzen. Juriel's very insightful to realize that it's not the mindless killing....it's the CHALLENGE of the hunt that matters most. Nice that Juriel realizes there are many ways to see the universe and the Jedi way isn't the only way. Great to see a Jedi who doesn't blindly follow the teachings.

 

lesabarisa: Great intro to Vharmir's story. Someone who isn't a Jedi (and considering what little he's seen, he isn't impressed by them) and someone who doesn't come from a privleged background. In war, things can turn on a dime, and unfortunately, Vharmir's day does just that.

 

Aw...Ayrs and the note. Sappy, but great. Kiss her like you did at the lake at Naboo. Awww....

 

Ow, you can feel Maiicineve's pain. Being a Sith ain't all it's cracked up to be.

 

Phyreblade: I can completely understand where Lusiel's coming from. I tend to be that way too when things in life get too hectic. At least she has Vette and (now) Quinn to make sure she doesn't run herself down. It makes sense that Braden would have known Kas long before recruiting her into the Big Hunt. There seemed to be some history before the BH storyline...I doubt Braden would have just picked someone at random.

 

bright: I feel awful for Ruth and Quinn here. She still does have feelings for him, but every time they talk, it doesn't go as well as planned. Next time...eventually there will be NO next time.