The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[AKHadeed]

UNDER THE WIRE! Comments later, but this is unedited and pretty much raw. So. You've been warned. But I really wanted to get this up before it was Friday. For if I was a Rich Man. Takes place... Sometime? I dunno, I'm awful.

 

 

Smoke trailed up into the sky, caught for a second in the flashlight from my helmet. It hung in the cool dark air, writhing pale patterns like some form of hieroglyphics too beautiful to read, and then it rolled out of the beam of my light and away into the empty night. I took a deep breath, and even through my suit's filters, I could make out the tang of burnt flesh and acrid chemicals from my flamethrower. Somewhere behind that was the soft sharp smell of fresh snow and the hard blast of cold air.

 

My armor insulated me, but I could feel the chill against my lips. Lines of heat ran down my body from the conduits against my skin. Most of the time, they're there for cooling, but they do all right in frigid conditions, too. I wouldn't freeze to death any time soon. I followed the smoke down to the body lying in the snow.

 

He'd struggled a bit as he burned, and the heat of the blast had melted a pit. It occurred to me that it'd be an easy way to dig your own grave, at least until the summer thaw. I guess I should be feeling something; triumph, remorse, whatever. I wasn't. Not really. The people who feel too much don't last in this game. Either they're the crazy-mean ones, so they get dead or get picked up by the other lunatics, or else they find another way.

 

I've been hunting bounties for ten years. This was one of the biggest scores I'd ever made. And I couldn't find it in me to be excited. It was just another job. I'd spend the credits on my armor, and my ship, and then I'd use my armor and my ship to... Do the same thing, I guess. I looked down at the dead man. Frost was forming on the charred edges of his skin, and I realized I'd been standing in the snow for too long. It didn't matter. I was comfortable enough.

 

I guess I was trying to find something to say about him, something I could pin on him so I could start to get a feeling for two months of my usual work, all due in my account. From his record, he hadn't been a good man. The client had been Garom, and the big slug hadn't wanted me to drag him in alive. I guess he'd managed to threaten my second-best employer somehow. I read through his rap sheet.

 

I'd managed to get ahold of some security footage from the spaceport and figure out what transport he'd hired. I'd followed him to this useless iceball. I'd tracked his heat signature, and once he was far enough from civilization and security agencies that might object, I'd jumped him. He'd sicced a trio of pretty decent battledroids on me and run. Eventually, I'd followed. He'd tried to set a trap for me here. I'd gotten out of it. Now he was dead.

 

And I was rich. Well, a little bit. It probably wasn't a quarter of Zeedor's usual budget for a dig, but I guess I could buy a new speeder, if I wanted. I hadn't replaced mine since some dumb kid had blown it up. I could get myself one of the new fuel tanks for my jetpack, and maybe even get a new cannon for the Wolf. I felt guilty about not feeling more, which is so thoroughly stupid that I snorted and kicked a spray of powder over the corpse.

 

It'd do.

 

 

Edited March 13, 2015 by AKHadeed

[Striges]

@Feldraeth: I like that Noctaire dropped everything to go after her son. I’m sure if she manages the rescue there will be many words exchanged, but at the moment, she was all concern.

 

@Frauzet: Aww, that quest. I’ve done both options at various times and every option seems wrong. Totally sympathize with Nikeo’s reaction, made all the worse by the cover story. A cover story he knows is false.

 

@AKHAdeed: super quick commentary! I get a sense of, well, not regret exactly. More at “when did something so out of the ordinary to everyone else become routine to (her)?” When did a living being become a paycheck? And I liked that almost-introspection, even if Angharad seems determined to ignore it.

[Striges]

Friday again, new prompt for consideration.

 

Week of March 13, 2015

Who?: Remember that character? That original character? You know the one. The one you wrote a story for or maybe several and then petered out? That one. This week, resurrect them. We had “Night of the Living Dead” for prompts, this time, it’s Night of the Living Dead character. Pick any prompt and give a patiently waiting character a story.

 

 

And, as ever,

 

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

 

 

This week's featured NotLP:

Wishes - Wherever our characters go, whatever they do, it's likely they have an eye on something more. Some people keep their fondest wishes a secret; others announce it to the world. Some wish on a star, a falling leaf, a found coin, or other totems. Some find a way to make it happen, and some haven't quite reached it yet. Write about your character's wish. (Prompt courtesy of Eversteam.)

 

 

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

[Feldraeth]

Comments

 

@Frauzet: Love the interaction between Jorgan and Nikeo, how despite their disagreement in the field Jorgan has Nikeo's back. Also, the piece underlines a point that runs through the Trooper storyline, that there often isn't a right or wrong answer. Orders can be misinterpreted, intelligence can be bad, so ultimately it boils down to the trooper's judgement call, and the trooper has to live with their decisions, without the convenience of letting the force guide their actions.

 

@AKHadeed: I like Ms Iron's straightforward, stoic nature and how she almost realises how hollow her life seems to be, then decides that's how she likes it. The tone seems reminiscent of tragedies, but it's a welcome change from story lines where the protagonist realises too late how their path has destroyed them (The Count of Monte Cristo or Captain Ahab spring to mind). Her wealth from the job is enough to upgrade her stuff, and that's all she's after. She's not after an emotional release from what she does, and wards against those who are.

 

 

 

I started writing this a few weeks ago, but I sort of lost the will to write for a bit and kept delaying and doing other things. In that regard this piece fits this week's new prompt, and I'm obviously not rationalising about how I missed last week's propaganda.

 

Prompt: Culture Shock, Food, (Un) Invited Guests, Propaganda, Who?

Title: The Top Deck

Perspective: Roan

Word Count: 3,889

Spoilers: Name drops from Dromund Kaas, the Black Talon, the Imperial Agent Advanced Class quest-giver

 

 

This Top Deck restaurant didn’t look like much. It was little more than a small room with benches lining one wall, viewscreens lining the other and a blocky metal stand before a pair of big, foggy glass doors.

 

We were here as part of a deal. Leftenant Sarnova said she could get Vette and me passage on the ship her cousin served on, if we could get her and two others into this Sith-only restaurant. I could’ve commanded her to book the ship, but the way she described it made me curious. It sounded like some mysterious club only Sith got to see. I’m Sith, and now I want to see it: if they really want to, they can come too. She’d made the call and we’d met one on the way to the lift. He was an old man with a long, straight, grey beard and he wore a uniform without an insignia. He said his name was Commander Vasil Dorne, but Leftenant Sarnova called him Uncle Vasil, which means a parent’s brother. See, I know family stuff too.

 

There was a human standing by the foggy doors. He wore a red tunic and trousers, both with gold lines running all over them, and a pair of black boots that went up to his calves. He had the same smug sneer that some entitled initiates wear before they go through their first few tombs plastered on his face. That wasn’t good. They were always rude and standoffish and complained to the overseers when somebody smashed them through a wall or two: tattletales.

 

“I’m sorry Commander, Lieutenant, but this is a Sith exclusive restaurant. If you are looking for a lord within, I can take a message and pass it along but you must wait outside,” the imperial said, a smug little smile twisting his face.

 

“Hey, if it’s Sith exclusive, how can you go in there to pass the message?” Vette asked, smirking at the twitch in his eye. He fixed her with a piercing scowl and then ignored her. That’s just rude, coming from an Imperial slave like him. I lashed a tendril of power around his collar and yanked him down to my height. He went further, his nose mashing the imperial emblem on the carpet.

 

“Vette asked you a question. Ignoring people is rude and dangerous, imperial sl-,” I caught myself, “Imperial.” Even though he serves the Sith and doesn’t have any power of his own, he isn’t a slave. The Leftenant said slaves are a subclass of force blind that the Imperials also get to boss around. He was cowering though. Maybe he should be a slave then: if he doesn’t have the power to stop anyone, why not?

“My Lord, I didn’t-,” he sputtered, or maybe spluttered, spattered? Doesn’t matter; he grovelled pathetically.

 

“As you can see,” Commander Dorne announced, clearing his throat, “we’re here with a Sith: perhaps you should find us a table that seats four. Another will be joining us shortly. Preferably it will be among the booths so that your other clients won’t have a similar reaction and ruin the ambience,” Commander Dorne commanded, eyeing the worm with respectful disdain. I released my grip on the tendril and it faded. Jerking straight up, he backed away, bowing a lot. Then he turned and ushered us into the lounge.

 

“What’s ambiyonce?” I quietly asked Commander Dorne when the servant was out of hearing range. You’re not supposed to ask questions in front of the slaves, it breaks the illusion that you are all-knowing and omni-potent.

“The social atmosphere of a place, lord, it helps determine the mood and appropriate responses to a given situation,” he explained quietly, his eyes jumping from person to person.

“Kinda like how you know not to walk into a trap expecting cake,” Vette offered helpfully.

“Likewise, drawing weapons at a state dinner or a birthday party is a faux pas,” Leftenant Sarnova elaborated and I stared at her blankly, “A Faux pas is a tactless or embarrassing act in a social situation.” I looked at her, and fired off my best ‘really?’ face.

“I know what a faux pas is but what’s a birthday?” They all stared at me as if I’d just ripped someone’s head off. See I knew what a faux pas was. I didn’t hear their answer because I saw the room. It probably wasn’t important anyway.

 

The room was huge, and I mean lightning room in Naga Sadow’s tomb huge. It looked like a giant upwards pointing arrow, with a transparisteel ceiling that joined up in a sparkly point. Through it, I could see the top of the nearby planet and a huge Harrower dreadnaught and the stars and the purple nebula. Looking down, I saw a framework of metal scaffolds running a few metres over the booths, with emitters hooked up in a grid.

 

Under them, the floor was stepped, with metal cubicles that had steepish walls. Through the metal walls, could see high-backed bench things surrounding large tables with cloths draped over them. The metal boxes mostly lined the steppes, leaving the big expanse in the middle of the room. A circular railing blocked access to most of it. I could hear playful barks and yelps from beyond. I bounced over and clutched the railing as I saw their Ziosti Iceswimmers in a big tank of icewater. I knew it was icewater because it had a glacier in it. No, not a glacier, whatever they’re called when a glacier goes into the sea.

 

I stood there, watching the Iceswimmers play, dance with each other and eat the fishes a Mon Calamari slave tossed in. It looked terrified as they swam past, nibbling at the tips of its fin hands with their big bristly mouths. Huh, I wonder if it’s related to the fishes it’s feeding the Iceswimmers, or if they’re having the same thoughts I’m having? Someone familiar brushed my arm.

“We’ve got a table, so you should pick out what you want,” Vette told me, watching the iceswimmers play in the pool. Pretty aren’t they, with their long tusks, bristle mouth beards and big ‘fwumph’y bodies.

 

She tore her eyes away and took me to our booth. Commander Dorne and Leftenant Sarnova had already sat down on one side, him closer to the door. The booth had an imperial emblem cloth covering the table and seats that went ‘fwumph’ when you jumped on them, not that I did that, because I’m Sith and Sith don’t do that. Leftenant Sarnova smiled at something else though, maybe something her Uncle said before he arrived. Vette just stood by the table, eyeing the empty bench beside me. That made sense. She’s a slave and I have to treat her like one so she knows her place and doesn’t die. Slaves don’t sit at the table: they serve it.

 

I looked at the menu and didn’t understand any of it. There were entrees, starters, aperitifs, main courses, side dishes and deserts. I’m sure there as meant to be some order to it all, but it was all screwy. Don’t people normally just have one meal when they’re hungry and stop when they’re full?

“They’re just having a main course and possibly a dessert afterwards,” she offered, pointing at the sections on the menu. Oh, it’s not a desert. I looked at the main courses section, and recognised maybe half the meals they offered.

 

“What are you having?” I asked her, flicking through the pictures. Maybe she’d picked something good. Something twitched through her left lekku and in Commander Dorne’s eye.

“Uh, you know, I had a big lunch on the shuttle ride here, so I was going to skip eating. Plus you know, the docs did tell me not to rush my recovery or anything.” I knew everything she’d said was true, but I could feel that she lied to me.

 

“At least have blue milk or something. The docs said it had phosphate in it and you need that,” I reasoned with her. She glanced at Commander Dorne, and he gave a small nod. Oh, yeah: slaves aren’t supposed to eat with their masters.

 

“Yeah, okay,” she conceded as another Imperial in the red and gold uniform arrived. This one was a woman, with blonde hair tied up in a set of braids over a rounded brown-yellow face. She asked us for our orders.

 

Commander Dorne ordered a Ful medames, a bean and Yozusk egg sauce served in a bread roll. Leftenant Sarnova went with a munch fungus salad that she said she’d picked up the taste for during officer training on Ryloth. Vette didn’t order anything but the blue milk, and something about the serving Imperial bugged me. She stared at Vette for a bit too long before noticing me and quickly tapping the blue milk into her datapad. Then she asked me what I wanted.

 

Uh, I hadn’t planned that far ahead. Quickly skimming the list, I picked out the Kushari and a drink of water and insisted on getting the scanner. I was very sure about that: Ragate insisted on scanning everything she ate and said it was good practice. The Imperial scrawled all that into a datapad and then vanished. Apparently, it was going to take them fifteen to twenty minutes to cook the meals, so we talked while we waited.

 

Commander Dorne told me about his work for Intelligence, assigning promising recruits to advanced training or sending them to intelligence for assignment. Leftenant Sarnova explained the difficulties of being enlisted and keeping battle ready on the station and they both spoke of Imperial society and how it was entirely different than Sith.

 

Apparently, Imperials aren’t slaves, even though they are don’t have a choice in serving the Sith, are brought up to serve the Sith and punish other imperials who refuse to serve the Sith. Instead they all share the same thoughts and act together except when Sith commands that they don’t. I don’t get it either, but at least they’re happy with it.

 

“Ugh, who invited that filthy thing up here?” someone sneered from across the hall, “just looking at it makes me lose my appetite.” I glanced around, and felt the familiar chill I get off other initiates, no other apprentices, across the room. He, at least, I think he was a he, must’ve had great eyesight because he sat all the way over on the far side of the room, with another presence I could barely feel.

 

The uniformed Imperial lady returned, with drinks. This time, she didn’t even look at Vette and instead put her blue milk on the other side of the table beside Leftenant Sarnova. I was going to ask why but a gust of cold air blew through my mind as the waiter came back.

 

“What’s this? An infestation of force blinds? You do know this is a Sith only restaurant,” the waiter sneered, and I realised he wasn’t the waiter. None of the waiters were purebloods.

“We are part of a Sith’s retinue, Lord,” Commander Dorne answered calmly, bowing his head, “He wills us to dine with him.”

 

The force flashed me a warning. I sprung up, pushing against the chair with my back leg as I flicked my front up over the table. My right hand grabbed my hilt, and I swept it out in a reverse grip. The crimson blade exploded into life, scoring the table and catching his saber as it shot towards Commander Dorne’s head. My left hand joined my right on the hilt, the right way up and all my momentum swept his blade up and away: it seared through the headrest but missed his head.

 

Kicking against the end of the Dornes’ bench, I threw my weight back and swung out with my right hand, now a fist. A line of pain shot through my fist as I backhanded his bony cheek. Someone behind me gasped, and I wasn’t sure if it was Vette, the commander or Leftenant. It didn’t matter. They are all under my protection and he attacked them: he dies.

 

He clattered to the floor, lightsaber skittering out beyond his reach. I hopped down from the table and advanced, saber ready to catch any force attacks. He didn’t use them. Instead, he rolled back, regaining his feet and went for his lightsaber.

 

“Enough,” someone commanded and I listened. I didn’t hack the interferer in half or crush anything with the force: I didn’t even make a move. Instead, I saw who it was. She stood right behind me, wearing a blue and black robe that clung to her body with big, curved, metal shoulder plates. A curved hilt lightsaber bounced off her skirt but that didn’t matter so much. I paid a lot more attention to her face.

 

She had red skin, a pointy face and a set of Sith hieroglyphs branded under her eyes that read ‘she-who-sundered-house-and-home’. They weren’t the biggest thing though, not by a long way. She had a pair of headtails ran down her back, fitting into specialised grooves in her high backed collar. She was a Twi’lek, just like Vette, except she wasn’t. She was a Twi’lek Sith lord!

I don’t think the not-yet-dead-guy noticed any of that. He staggered to his feet, glaring as if it could hurt me. The Sith lord stalked up to us, past us and sat down where I’d been. Hey, that’s my seat!

 

“Commander Dorne, I was about to arrange a meeting when I spied you up here. What a coincidence,” she beamed; flashing what I think is a genuine smile. Wait, what just happened? Watching the Sith lord, I almost didn’t spot the apprentice. Vette did, and yelled a warning, but I could feel him swing.

 

I threw myself to the side as his blade swept through where I’d been. He followed through with a blast of lightning that I caught on my lightsaber. Sparking power stabbed pins up my arm, but didn’t go any further. My power absorbed it, and added it to my own.

 

I burst forwards, spinning my saber through a series of quick light strikes and feinted stabs, pushing him back. He met me head on and I realised something. He was a lot stronger than me. Maybe it’s because he’s older or because he’s augmenting his strength with the power of the dark side? It didn’t really matter. He easily blocked the strike and started pushing me back towards the table.

 

It might’ve ended there, with him putting my blade through my face, but I’ve trained with the Commander of the Imperial Guard on Korriban, and she’s a lot stronger than me too. I turned my blade, as she showed me, letting his slide along it while I drew in power. He staggered, hauling his saber back as he wove a force barrier geared towards catching lots of little stabs of power. Silly dead man: I can’t use lightning.

 

I pushed the power down, into my legs, leaping up and back. The world around me blurred as I landed and pushed power into my arms. Surging forwards, I brought my blade up in a rising slash. He reacted the same way the Commander had to the unorthodox move when I’d first tried it with her: he dropped his saber into a low block.

 

I funnelled as much power as I could muster into the strike, and hit him with it. His defence held: he didn’t. He went flying, thrown by the power of the dark side. Arcing in the air, he landed in the middle of the room, where the Iceswimmers played in their pool. The splash swatted a few of the nearby tables, but there wasn’t anyone at them, so it didn’t matter. Baying roars and growls reverberated from the pool. Iceswimmers eat most meats and protect their waters. He wouldn’t get out. I headed back to the table.

 

“There was one who might fit your specifications, but I believe Keeper has already assigned him. However, if another candidate crops up, I shall be sure to send word, my lord,” Commander Dorne answered as I arrived. Aside from the scorch marks, it looked as if nothing had happened. Looks like I learnt something new: despite being blind to the force, Imperials are very calm when under attack. I don’t think the Commander even flinched when the apprentice attacked.

“Well then, I shall leave you to your-,” she trailed off, turning to look at me, “yes.” I may’ve been staring. I know Vette was looking at her too, but I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

 

“You’re a Twi’lek,” I stated. Something flickered on Vette’s gaunty face. Okay, now I know what she’s feeling: annoyed. The Sith Lord stared at me, before smiling at me. I’ve no idea why, but I didn’t sense anything hostile coming from her.

“I was the last time I checked. They can change species? Is it like a Epicanthix where they’re basically humans with small changes, or more like Chiss and Mirialans look human but aren’t? I read about subspecieses in the Encyclopaedia Imperator like the Lethans and Rutians and uh the other one, the green ones, but the Encyclopaedia Imperator hadn’t mentioned anything about changing subspecies.

 

“What’s your name, apprentice?”

“Roan,” I answered. I didn’t see any danger in her knowing my name. If she wanted me dead, she just had to point and zap. I may be stronger than most ten year olds, but I’m nowhere near Sith Lord levels. She looked at me, mouth opening slightly as her tattooed eyebrows crunched up together, then spread apart and rose as her mouth opened into a wide smile.

 

“Roan, I am Lord Braca of the sphere of Biotic Science. Please take a seat,” she greeted, patting the bench beside her. I sat down, watching her. Was this a trick: a trap to lure me in range for something? Her lightsaber was on her far side, but a sudden blast of lightning could fry me. She didn’t need me close for that though: she could do it from across the room.

 

“You had a question about twi’leks?” I reached into the centre of the table, brought up the holoscreen in the centre of the table and flicked it over to the holonet. Quickly, I brought up the Encyclopaedia Imperator page on Twi’leks and scrolled down to the physiology section. Holding the page on one side, I flicked my hand left, and the menu carousel trundled around so she could see the netpage.

 

“Is this wrong?” The doctor had told me stuff like Twi’leks are omnivores but the page said they all eat funguses and gruel and meat slurries. It also told me that masterless twi’leks are listless and die. Sith Lords are masters of their own fate, and she didn’t look listless, which means limp or without energy. I might’ve asked the doctor what it meant.

 

She started flicking through the article, her eyes skimming the words. Slowly, she started to smile and began laughing. It had a weird tinkling sound to it, like breaking tiny glass balls. I could see Vette read it over her shoulder, and while the Sith Lord laughed, her mouth dropped open.

“So, it’s wrong, then?” Vette didn’t answer, and neither did the Sith Lord for a while. Eventually, she got her laughter under control, wiping away the tears that ran freely over her pictogram brands.

 

“Biologically, it’s not far off: twi’leks are fairly similar to humans. We need slightly fattier diets to keep our Lekku padded, which is a reason why Vette here is so thin, and can see into the upper band of the Infra-Red spectrum.” Okay, I have no idea what the last part means, but the fat bit is good. It means Vette’ll get better, if she eats the right stuff.

“Psychologically though, it’s nonsense. As with any other species, the psychology varies from person to person. If I had to guess, I’d say that whoever wrote the article only interviewed one twi’lek and se was probably a poorly trained, broken slave. Do you have any other questions?”

“Uh,” I started, trying to think of anything clever or insightful to ask. Nope, nothing came to mind. Lord Braca nodded at me and slowly rose.

 

“Well, it has been a pleasure to meet you Roan, but unfortunately, I’m down an apprentice from this encounter.” Hey, that’s not my fault. Okay, maybe it’s a bit my fault, but he attacked me first. I tensed, ready to try to redirect any lightning she shoots at me.

“He attacked Commander Dorne and me so I threw him into the Iceswimmer tank. Technically, they killed him.” I protested

“Yes, I saw how forcefully you defended your charges. Very noble,” she remarked, smiling at something for a moment before letting it fade.

“Also, he picked a fight with and then lost to a ten year old. He wasn’t really going to be the next Exar Kun, was he?” Vette commented from Lord Braca’s other side, where she’d stood for the past few minutes.

 

“You have a point. Tell me, who is your master’s master,” she asked Vette, which was weird. I’m right here. Why was she after my master anyway? I don’t think she was going to complain. It’d be much easier just to fry me right now.

“Darth Baras,” I answered, watching the Sith Lord.

 

“Of course it’d be a Darth. Pity,” she mused, “well, if you come across any strong apprentices or find yourself without a master, give me a call.” She brought out a small holocom and bumped it against the one Vette’s. The devices beeped and they put theirs away.

“Until we meet again, Roan, Commander, Vette and… Lieutenant was it?” she bade as she backed away from the table. Then, with a fluid twirl, she strode away. We were all silent for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what just happened.

 

“Um, I’ve just missed something, haven’t I?” Leftenant Sarnova asked, which was really impressive because I’m sitting opposite her and I didn’t see her mouth move. The throwing voice trick made her sound a little squeakier and put a wobble in her voice though. I glanced up and saw a red haired teenager. I don’t mean she was ginger like me: her hair was bright red. I didn’t know you could get hair that colour, maybe her Mother was a Zeltron or something. Wait, no, they have red skin, not hair.

 

Both Leftenant Sarnova and Commander Dorne stood up, and then it went weird. Sarnova approached and wrapped her cousin in her arms for a few seconds before retreating, and Dorne accepted a salute from his other niece, or possibly daughter. Then I stood up and she saluted me. Is this a normal greeting among the imperials? I bowed, as Ragate taught me, the Sith way to greet someone.

 

“Sir, this is my niece, Ensign Danica Brukarra. Danica, this is Roan, apprentice of Darth Baras of the Sphere of Military Offense and the facilitator of this meeting,” Commander Dorne introduced, his hands pointing at me and Ensign Brukarra as he referred to each of us. Ensign Brukarra sat down beside me and we all had a nice lunch. Even Vette had some, a big, drippy, Vine-cat kebab.

 

 

Notes

 

Before anyone asks; I am fairly sure this family isn’t canon, but neither is Roan being the SW, so I think it’s fair to take a few liberties. I did so not just because it amused me but because Captain Sarnova and Ensign Brukarra share a voice actress, Moira Quirk, who also voices Elara Dorne. Since we have Commander Vasil Dorne as the IA advanced class quest giver, I threw him in. As for the restaurant, I made it up as I went along (Feel free to pilfer, because it is in every way original and definitely not the Iceberg Lounge from Batman with the serial numbers filed off). I don’t have the collector’s edition, so I haven’t been up in that lounge over the bar, but I don’t think it looks like this.

 

If anyone is interested, Ful Medames and Kushari are both real dishes, originating from Egypt (although Kushari was technically developed by the British Army when they were stationed in Egypt). Since a lot of Sith architecture, dress and culture is derived from ancient Egypt (just look at the Golden Age of the Sith comics for examples), I thought it appropriate. However, this isn’t set in the golden age of the Sith, so perhaps a Hellenistic or Roman Egypt is more apt. Blue milk and Munch Fungus are from Star wars IV: A new hope and the expanded Universe respectively.

 

[Mrtwo]

Hello! The new prompt was too tempting to resist. I will do comments tomorrow!

 

 

Title: Cup of Caf

Prompt: Who?

Words: 1,473

Spoilers: None

 

 

June stumbled inside the hotel doors, shivering violently. The walk from her beach campsite to Tyrena hadn’t been more than a mile, but with the pouring rain it felt like a parsec. An aide came forward to take her coat and showed her to a cozy sitting area in front of a fire. June sat there warming up, waiting for her M8-19 to return from securing her gear under a tarp outside. When the shock of the cold wetness wore off she began to drift off. It had been a long couple of days.

 

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and June turned her head to see a frustrated looking hotel receptionist asking her something. June smiled wearily and cupped her hands over her ears to indicate her disability. The receptionist instantly looked guilty and June shrugged in apathy. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done this dance a thousand times before. The moves were always the same.

 

“Will you be staying for the night?” the receptionist asked politely when he recovered himself. June nodded and reached a shivering hand into her pocket to get her ID chip. It was her actual identity for once, unlike the disposable ID chips she had used as a bounty hunter. The receptionist took and fake-smiled before heading back to his desk. June turned back to the fire and looked into the flames. She could intensely feel the heat even six feet away, owing to her enhanced senses.

 

The vibration of combat boots reached her through the chair and June turned to see a commotion at the doorway. A burly security guard had his hand on his weapon and was blocking M8-19 from entering the hotel. June didn’t wonder why; several weapons were clearly visible on the probe droid’s chassis. She walked over and smiled wryly at the guard, and repeated her deaf miming act. She pointed at the droid and then to her ears.

 

Disabled assistance droid, June thought furiously at him. Sometimes that seemed to work. The guard either understood or got tired of arguing, because he stood aside and let M8-19 join her side. Hello, Mate. She patted the floating droid affectionately. Without him, June would’ve been in the ground years ago.

 

The incident at the door drew the attention of the other people in the hotel lobby. Most of them June dismissed without a second glance; nobodies, commoners, people who would go their entire lives without changing anything outside their own small spheres of existence. It was a cold depersonalization technique, but one June had cultured in her years as a bounty hunter.

 

One man stood out, though. He was dressed in civilian clothes but looked out of place in them. He had jet-black hair and stood ramrod straight. His most striking features, however, were his azure skin and brilliant red eyes. June had never met a Chiss before. They mostly stuck to their homeworld or Imperial planets, neither of which she had ever had the desire to visit. This Chiss felt like he had a power to him, though. He would bear watching.

 

June stretched dramatically and yawned. The watchers grew bored and turned back to their own devices. The receptionist got the message and stepped over to give back her ID chip and a room key. The room number was 1-3. The receptionist must have reasoned that June wouldn’t need a quiet room on a higher floor since the noisiness of a first floor room would not affect her. A sign above the receptionist’s desk read: “We do not discriminate based on species, race, gender, or sexual affiliation.” Good thing it didn’t say anything about disabilities.

 

June and M8-19 found their room down the hall from the lobby and June tiredly inserted the key into the lock. She pushed the door open to reveal a hotel room. They were all the same, in the end; small bathroom with free soap, cheap holoscreen on the wall, a bed that could be cleaned easily. She smelled the hotel odors of burnt caf and air freshener. Nothing is new under the sun, June thought, amused. M8-19 hovered over to the corner of the room and June collapsed on the bed, exhausted. The shower is probably alright, and I should probably use it. Her clothes were still damp and she had been outside for two days. The mind reaches a point, however, where it convinces you that sleep is the best thing in the galaxy, and June had reached that point. She fell asleep fully-clothed on the hotel bed. M8-19 hovered over to a console on the wall and lowered the light levels before obediently entering guard mode. He had also done this dance before.

 

She awoke in the middle of the night, a consequence of falling asleep in the late afternoon. The downpour had downgraded to a gentle shower pattering against the window. June stumbled into the shower and then got dressed afterwards. She left M8-19 in the room and quietly walked back to the lobby. The night receptionist smiled genuinely at her from behind the front desk and she offered a tired grin back to him.

 

Only one other occupant was awake at this hour. June was somehow unsurprised to see the Chiss lounging in one of the high-back chairs next to the fires. He had his eyes closed as June sat in the chair opposite him.

“Are you often up this late?” the Chiss asked, his eyes still closed. June imagined his voice to be as smooth as Corellian Firewine. She nodded almost imperceptibly. With no noise to distract her, June’s thoughts often consumed her late into the night. It was horrible being trapped inside your own head.

 

The Chiss seemed to sense her nod despite his closed eyes. “Your other senses must have been greatly enhanced after your accident.”

 

June couldn’t tell if that was a question or not, so she said nothing in reply. They sat there in comfortable silence for a long time. She saw the night receptionist fall asleep at his desk out of the corner of her eye. The fire flickered and sparked but did not yet die.

 

“Do you know what I am?” the Chiss asked. June regarded him thoughtfully. “You’re a Jedi.” She finally replied. “Or a Sith.” Her words were softly-spoken but not cracked or broken like the voices of many who have never heard themselves speak.

 

The Chiss’s chest moved softly as he chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think the Sith would’ve accepted me.” He said.

“Yes, I am a Jedi, and I have come here for you.”

 

June’s face betrayed no surprise, but her right hand moved imperceptibly towards the dagger at her hip. The Jedi moved faster than her eye could comprehend and her dagger was suddenly embedded in the wood above the fireplace.

 

“I don’t think we needed that.” He suggested softly in her ear. She could feel the vibrations of his vocal cords on her neck. The Chiss slowly moved back into his own chair. June blinked at him, totally aware that she could never hope to beat him. Her father once told her that it was important to know your limits.

 

“You have the Force isolated inside of you.” He explained to her, leaning back. “I suspect that it was about to manifest itself when the accident occurred. Your fear and self-doubt have buried it deeply within your soul.”

June eyed him cynically. She had encountered her share of scammers in her life as a disabled person. “Just ten thousand credits and your hearing will return in no time.”

 

“I can sense your doubt.” The Chiss said. “All I ask is that you accompany me to Tython. If it is discovered there that you are touched by the Force, then you may choose to join our Order. If not, then I will personally recompense you for your trouble and you can go on your way.”

 

June thought about what she was doing. Traveling across the galaxy, hunting scumbags, with no friends or connections? Her only living family was a droid for disabled people. Surely if there was any chance of something greater then this she must take it.

 

She stood up. “I will come with you.”

 

The Chiss stood and extended a hand to June. “Then let me introduce myself. Jedi Watchman Colm, at your service. None of that weird Chiss name stuff, just Colm.” He said.

 

She awkwardly took his hand and he shook it gently but firmly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have another cup of caf whilst you pack. I don’t know what it is about this place, but the caf is damn good.”

 

Colm grinned at her and released her hand before heading over to the breakfast bar. June shook her head to recover herself and went back to her room to pack as Colm suggested.

 

Edited March 14, 2015 by Mrtwo

[frauzet]

Comments:

 

@AKHadeed: 10 years is a long time on the job for a bounty hunter. This makes me wonder what she was like when she started. What were her dreams?

 

@Feldraeth: I guess that was one of the more exciting days in the VIP area. Roan trying to understand the grown-ups always makes me smile.

 

@Mrtwo: I like June's initial mistrust towards the Jedi and her reasoning to follow him anyway. The line about the Chiss-names made me chuckle.

 

 

 

A few weeks ago I decided to move the bulk of my stories to a thread of their own instead of spamming this one with stories which seldom fit the current prompt. I am done with copying old stories apart from some small pieces that will be integrated in new parts, so I decided to combine the "Pimpin' Threads! "-prompt with the current "Who?".

 

After succeeding in their assault on the Brentaal Star and the discovery that the Iolith Zairos they rescued was only a double, Thorns, Ciner, Rufuro and Smilo have arrived on Dromund Kaas, each of them with his own agenda.

The Force, fate or whatever actually isn't doing a very good job of getting them to work together so far.

 

Since Smilo has been somewhat neglected here, I crosspost his part of my newest story from this post in my thread "Trouble, Destiny and Other Complications".

 

Title - Coming Home

Class - IA (Smilo)

Words - ~670

Spoilers - none

 

 

Reporting in at HQ was mandatory. Intelligence would receive a copy of his report from Imperial Navy. Nonetheless they’d want his account on the mission on Hutta as well as another full debriefing on the Black-Talon-operation. They were already expected. Kaliyo was carried off by a watcher for proper registration. Smilo entered the mission control center on his own. He stopped on the threshold. The bustle reminded him of the ordered chaos of a beehive. It was his first visit here. He took a moment to let the atmosphere of the room sink in. This should have felt like home. Instead he felt like entering a wampa’s den.

 

His colleagues ignored him as he made his way across the polished floor towards the stairs in the back, everyone but him being busy. The watcher who’d handle his debriefing was unavailable at the moment but Keeper himself wanted a word with him right away. So much for staying unobtrusive. The agent suppressed an oath and kept his features in check. The walls had eyes and ears, here maybe even more so than in the rest of the galaxy. Keeper wouldn’t want to talk with a lowly operative about a minor operation on Hutta. This had to be about the assault on the Brentaal Star. Grand Moff Kilran had violated the Treaty of Coruscant, no matter his own prevaricating towards the Jedi Grand Master. From what little Smilo knew about the current Keeper, the man wouldn’t be amused.

 

Keeper’s assistant waved him through. Smilo walked into Keeper’s office and closed the door before he stood at attention. Keeper eyed him for a moment before greeting him and offering him a seat. Returning the greeting he sat down on the chair opposite Keeper although he would have preferred to remain standing. He forced his body to relax as far as the chair and propriety allowed. The man as well as his affiliations were unknown to Smilo. He hadn’t been able to gain access to Keeper’s dossier.

 

“Imperial Intelligence just received Grand Moff Kilran’s commendation in your behalf agent. He speaks highly of you.” There was no sign indicating Keeper’s opinion on the matter.

 

Smilo would lay odds on him knowing every detail from the navy debriefing, and not only from his own report. “I only did my duty, sir.”

 

Keeper’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly, but he didn’t object. His eyes bored through the agent as if trying to find the agent’s definition of duty. “We are not here to talk about the implications of this incident in neutral space.” Keeper paused.

 

That left only one subject. Smilo looked at Keeper with feigned expectancy. That was what mediocrity called for.

 

“What do you know about Iolith Zairos, agent?”

 

Smilo sat up straighter. “Oldest child of Lord Erolon Zairos.” He frowned in thought. “23 or 24, not Force-sensitive. Entered the Imperial Academy when I was in my third year. I met her once or twice. Exceptionally beautiful. Intelligent. Among the best of her class. Best sniper the Academy had seen in decades. Most of her records are still unbroken, contrary to several hearts even among personnel if you don’t discount hearsay. She wasn’t accepted into Imperial Intelligence; again according to rumor, on behalf of her father’s intervention. Vanished shortly afterwards. Supposedly captured three weeks ago on Ord Mantell by the Republic under the accusation of being an Imperial spy.”

 

“We have been able to verify the claims of her double by now. Iolith Zairos is in Republic custody. She isn’t working for us, though.” The intensity of Keeper’s gaze grew. “I’d like to know who she is working for, and what she was doing on Ord Mantell. Since you have already been involved in an attempted rescue, Grand Moff Kilran might approach you again in her behalf. When she is returned to the Empire she will have our full support.”

 

“Of course.” Smilo nodded. The Force knew Imperial Intelligence could do with the support of a high ranking house in return.

 

 

[Striges]

@Feldraeth: Roan always makes me think of a kid playing at being a grown-up, except his game is deadly serious. I’m glad he got better information about Twi’lek’s from an unimpeachable (to Roan at least) source. No doubt Vette will be happier.

 

@MrTwo: One of the things I noticed about your story was how descriptions of sounds were virtually absent. Given that sight and sound are some of the easiest senses to use when evoking a scene, I liked how you avoided sound for June. It’s a challenge, and it also helps the reader experience her world.

 

@Frauzet: I enjoy watching Smilo dissecting Keeper’s motives and actions. The calculation, not really wanting to stand out too much. And Keeper on the other side, calculating just as much. What was left out behind what Smilo allowed.

[Striges]

Friday, time for another prompt.

 

Week of March 20, 2015

What About That Guy?: Stories usually concern major characters. Sometimes the main plot is from the game, sometimes not. Regardless, stories also contain a number of incidental characters and minor plots as well. The guard at the door, the customs official who broke up the fight, a convenient corpse, the character (probably in a red shirt) who dies in the first scene to prove the situation is serious. Not to mention why was there a guard, how did the fight start, where did the corpse come from, what made the situation serious. Every story has places to explore behind the scenes. This week, pick one of your favorite works and fill in one or more of those spaces. (This prompt suggested by Feldraeth) (apologies to Galaxy Quest’s Crewman #6)

 

And, as ever,

 

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

 

This week's featured NotLP:

 

Play Within A Play - (alternately titled My Immortal) - In a world where there are people, there are stories. And where there are stories, fandoms are likely to follow. And where fandoms go...well. Do any of your characters or their companions write fiction? Imagine what they would write in the way of thinly (or not at all) veiled fanfic. What stories do your characters tell about each other? (Keep it forum friendly, of course!) (blame this prompt on @Kabeone:)

 

 

 

 

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

[bright_ephemera]

a) I’m bad at replies and b) I’m very liberal these days about skipping swathes of stuff that might depress me, but that said, I did plow through a bunch of stuff these last few days.

 

 

 

 

@Feldraeth, Re: Noctaire and her mother, Bad Jedi family dynamics are an endless wellspring of…err, not fun, exactly. Maga’s perspective is seemingly so mired in articles of faith…though Noctaire seems just as stubborn. Then, 3/9, I like watching Noctaire consider all the angles. Really good worldbuilding built in there. 3/13 Roan’s restaurant adventure…that kid has so much going on in his head all the time, and only bits and pieces of it get corrected by reality. It’s fascinating.

 

@alaurin, 3/5, aw, T7 as chaperon/go-between for Jakob and Kira. That’s too funny. Meanwhile Tia and Aric’s banter is fun. Definitely says a lot about both of them

 

@Magdalane, you always evoke Miriah’s joy so richly. I love that about all the Chantalles. It’s a comforting read.

 

@Mirdthestrill, ooh, 2/18 Eyrie background. You have to wonder just how much scrutiny any reformed Sith would have go to through to enter training on Tython. And it’s not a “oh you showed up, now you’re A-OK” kind of thing, either. It goes on. As for 2/26, interesting pairing. Both Orgus and Bela seem to have a little more zest for life than the stereotypical Jedi. And then 3/6, Jessassi and Corso, d’awww. Hoth is the planet for snuggling.

 

@AKHadeed, Zeedor’s 2/21 meditation piece is out-and-out wonderful. Delicious characterization. Viska gets a great POV intro, too. 3/12 Angharad sounds tired. Tired, but she’s there to fight another day.

 

@Mrtwo, 2/22 I’m so glad you posted Kouhun’s story. An interesting mystery with a powerful payoff. “Before all this,” indeed. 3/13 What an intriguing meeting between June and Colm! Something interesting’s bound to shake out no matter who blinks first.

 

@frauzet, 2/27 I like how accustomed to power Rufuro is in this sequence. He’s really made it his own. 3/10, that Nikeo piece is a punch in the gut. That quest has no palatable outcome except “we took a huge risk on our own civilian population and got lucky that it didn’t go sour.” 3/16 I have always liked Smilo’s determination to be no more than slightly above average. A sharp survival technique, that.

 

@Osetto, 3/1 I love your descriptions. Love. That conversation between Darbon and Osk just got better and better.

 

@Striges, 3/5 I have to wonder how much Jedi time is spent locating small Force-sensitive children who don’t wish to be found. Nonetheless, I like the peek into Tika’s mind.

 

 

 

Carry on!

[Feldraeth]

Comments:

 

 

@MrTwo Good writing and an interesting take, which leads to a few questions

How is June hearing his voice? I understand she’s deaf and imagining his voice, but is she lip reading, using her droid to translate into a medium she can use, or tapping into her latent abilities to telepathically connect? Also, is she unable to use cybernetics to repir her hearing for one reason or another?

Oh, and Weird Chiss name stuff? I see what you did there

 

@Frauzet: Keeper’s moving against Kilran? I’d get popcorn but I suspect any action will be so far behind the scenes that even the aftereffects won’t be viewable. Also, Smilo finally gets some love (uh, not like that)

 

 

 

Prompt: What about that guy, Behind the scenes, Filling in plot holes

Title: Making the Call

Perspective: Lieutenant Sylas

Spoilers: setup for the Black Talon

Word count: 684

 

 

I was supervising the dock slaves load cargo when ensign Brukarra, a simpering girl who only got her position because of her looks and family, brought me the opportunity I needed. I’d seen it on the manifest, a last minute passenger with minimal cargo. Normally, we don’t bother with passengers too incompetent to book ahead but he was different. He was a Sith straight from Korriban and apprenticed to a Darth with enough sway to influence the captain: Had Darth Vowrawn elevated one of his lords to Darthdom?

 

The Black Talon was an Imperial Navy vessel but it languished under the sphere of logistics’ control. For the three years I’d been first lieutenant, we’d done nothing but ferry supplies from Vaiken to Begeren, stopping at Bosthirda, Dromund, Jaguada, Ashas and Kalsunor along the way. It wasn’t enough that we’d been reduced to a bunch of glorified freighter jockeys but my superior Captain Orzik had consistently refused my promotion requests and transfers. The ash-faced coward thought he knew better, simply because he’d served during the war.

 

Take this most recent farce for example. We’d been given an order direct from Grand Moff Kilran himself, and Orzik wanted to ignore it and carry on to Bosthirda. So what if those orders were issued to every vessel docked at the station and we may be directly under the command of Logistics: he’d still ignored an order from the Grand Moff.

 

It’s not as if the ship couldn’t handle it. We had over three hundred crewers, all willing and able to lay down their lives in service to the Empire, weapons systems from the last war and a Sith on board to ensure victory. Even if he wasn’t enough, we already had a mercenary booked to come aboard, an alien with a history of hostile boarding actions and enough gear to make a guardsman nervous. She even had a slicer in tow. In short, we had everything we needed to succeed, aside from the Captain’s support. Still, that wasn’t as necessary as he liked to think.

 

The Grand Moff’s command had come with a holofrequency, a one-time link to his personal device should any noble captains or rightful captains wish to volunteer. Plugging it into my holocom, I waited with baited breath for the device to pick up. What I was doing could be interpreted as insubordination, but no one would dare report me. The Grand Moff would ensure a painful death to anyone who tried. It stopped pinging, and a blue figure appeared atop it. It did as grand a man as the Grand Moff a disservice to be so reduced, but it had to suffice, for now. He loomed before me, as dominating and imperious as the Citadel itself.

 

“This is Lieutenant Sylas of the Black Talon. We have a Sith and a capable looking mercenary on board, and are about to leave Vaiken station. My captain has decided to ignore your command and flee into Imperial space. I however am unwilling to let his cowardice cost us your objective. My heart hammered in my throat as silence reigned, aside from the grunting slaves. Had someone else already volunteered their vessel?

 

“Excellent news, Lieutenant: loyalty such as yours shall be rewarded when you reach Kaas with the General in tow,” The Grand Moff’s voice slithered through my ears, the slow methodical eloquence and well deserved arrogance a drug, “An NR series droid shall attempt to board shortly, do ensure that your passengers speak to it.”

 

“As you command, Sir,” I acquiesced, bowing my head as the representation of the greatest non-Sith in the Empire dematerialised. Everything would soon be in place. Soon, Orzik’s downfall would be in my grasp. Ugh, just thinking about him makes me heave.

 

Too long has he denied me and belittled my competencies before the admiralty board. Too long has he chummed up to his social inferiors and treated enlisted crew like officers: not for much longer. Soon he would be dead, rightfully executed for refusing a lawful order. Then we’ll see who’s unable to plan strategy or inspire a crew.

 

 

Notes:

 

It occurred to me that there’s a large plot hole around the Black Talon regarding Kilran’s order. When does Orzik refuse it and why can he get away with it?

 

We know he’s refused it before the start of the flashpoint because Lt Sylas tells us the droid came aboard and asked for us some time before we boarded. Since we start the flashpoint by boarding the eponymous vessel, we know it is docked with Vaiken station. If so, why does Kilran not order the local garrison to arrest/execute Orzik and task the new Captain Sylas with his mission? It’s possible that Orzik refuses Kilran after they left the station but then how did NR-02 know to come aboard? Furthermore, if it is so vital they stop it, why not have one of the ships protecting Vaiken do it?

 

However, there’s another possibility. The Black Talon is a Gage class transport. It is a cargo ship transporting goods and VIPs (and the hunter) within the empire. As such, it likely falls under the purview of the sphere of logistics. As we’ve seen in the Empire, control over certain areas of society is split among the spheres, with the military split over 3+ spheres (Military Offence, Military Strategy and Defence) with more having claim over it (aka, Ravage (Diplomacy) using it to conquer worlds)

 

It’s possible that Kilran doesn’t have control over the captain or his crew, because Kilran serves a member of a different sphere (probably Military Strategy). As such, he might have as much authority as a general ordering a captain in the merchant fleet, to take a real world military example. His order may carry weight, but he’s not in their line of command. As such, his order may have technically been a call for volunteers, instead of a command. of course, he will take anyone refusing as disobeying an order, and that's the perspective the players get to see. At least, that's how I've interpreted it

 

 

EDIT: Kilran has lost his large gossamer wings and light addiction, now that I’ve fixed his title as Grand Moff. Stupid Autocorrect

Edited March 25, 2015 by Feldraeth

[bright_ephemera]

That edit is the best author's note I've ever read.

 

Nice eye for detail and very nice setup for why a mutiny might take place. The speaker comes across as well-informed and bitter - a dangerous combination.

[Mirdthestrill]

Hello, everyone!

 

Comments:

 

@Osetto- I was reading along like "Alright, this is sort of interesting... wait, what?" Your little twist at the end made me laugh out loud. As someone with both first and last names that are easily mistaken for other ones, I sympathize with his pain

 

@Feldraeth- First off, congrats on getting a word count exactly equal to the year. Just a little fun something I noticed. I liked your story, especially how Noctaire will rush off to rescue her son and husband, even though their relationship hasn't exactly been the most conventional or smooth.

 

For the second one, I find your headcannon to be a pretty logical and reasonable one. I kind of feel a little bit sorry for Roan. I don't know exactly how he was raised, but it seems like it might not have been pleasant. And I think your version of the VIP lounge is much more interesting that whatever is probably up there.

 

And again in the third one, I like your headcannons. I also like that there's a little background for why the mutiny took place and the situation at the time the PCs board the ship.

 

@Frauzet- You're right, there's no happy ending to that quest, really. I think Nikeo's ending was the worst possible. To know you'd done that, it would be hard to remember that you really did make the best choice based on what was available at the time.

 

For your second piece, I always find agents fascinating (I guess I should get around to playing one sometime, then, lol). I think Smilo is a very realistically written one, not too flashy or weird, just a very smart man who gets the job done with the minimum of disruption so those around him barely realize anything happened at all.

 

@AKHadeed- In a piece with virtually no action, you kept it dynamic. The internal narration captures the kind of... soul-draining nature of Angie's work without making her seem heartless.

 

@MrTwo- I remember June! As I said last time you wrote about her, you don't see deaf characters very often, and I like June. She's interesting. I wonder how Tython will turn out for her?

 

 

 

 

I had a pretty good spring break, and managed to get a decent amount of writing done during that time.

 

This first was supposed to be posted sometime before Friday, but here it is anyway.

 

Title: Opportunity Knocks

Prompt: Fame, Who?

Characters: Ketturah Atridies (Bounty Hunter)

Length: 1,300 words

Spoilers: setup for the Bounty Hunter story

Index latest of all Ketturah stories so far

 

 

The Flotation Device was loud and dark and smelled like stale vomit, but it did have one advantage: unlike most drinking establishments on this planet, nobody cared how old you were. Which was, Ketturah Atridies reflected as she hiked up her backpack and stepped inside, quite useful when you looked like you were fifteen. Pushing her way through the sweaty alien men- at least she thought most of them were male- that made up the majority of the place’s patrons, she made her way to the bar.

 

A droid stood behind the counter, covered in dents that were probably from messing up people’s drink orders and a painted-on fake tuxedo. “What will it be, gentle customer?” it said in a voice that was way too prissy for the place.

 

“Corillian Akdov,” she replied.

 

“Of course, ma’m.”

 

As the droid shuffled off to pour her drink, she sized up the rest of the area. If she’d learned anything since she’d left home, it was to never let your guard down. You never knew when some low-life would decide you looked like an easy target. But it didn’t look like it was going to be a problem right now. The Weequey on her right was deep into his fourth glass, and the two Zabraks on the left were busy laughing at some joke one of them had just told.

 

The droid clinked a glass down. Ketturah picked it up and took a sip. It was terrible. But you got what you paid for, she supposed, and she didn’t have the money to pay for more. Bounty hunting sounded like a sure-fire way to make good money, but you had to actually get jobs first. And the best way to get jobs- at least ones that paid more than just enough to buy food, a couple of drinks, and blaster gas- was to have a reputation. But to have a reputation, you needed to do jobs.

 

She sighed. At least she had money right now. The bounty on her latest contract would take care of her until she found another job and finished it. Hopefully.

 

“Hey,” slurred someone behind her. She turned around. A massive twi’lek stood in front of her, arms crossed. “Get out of my spot.”

 

“This is your spot? Sorry, I didn’t know.” Ketturah picked up her drink and started to stand. Mallena had always said she had more guts than sense, but even she could figure out not to start something over a seat in a bar.

Especially not with someone twice her size and twice as drunk.

 

A hand caught her in the chest. “You new around here?”

 

“Maybe.” Never admit to being from out of town in these places. Everybody loves to gang up on an outsider.

 

“I don’t recognize you. You looking for trouble?”

 

Ketturah put on her most winning smile. “I’m just here for a drink and a good time, same as you.” Occasionally, very occasionally, being young and female helped out a bit.

 

The twi’lek frowned. “I think you’re looking for trouble.”

 

She saw the punch coming as soon as he wound up and ducked to the side, shoving his hand off her as she did. If he wanted a fight…

 

Striking at his chin, she felt her knuckles almost brush his skin as he stepped back. The other bar patrons were starting to pay more attention to their fight, and she kept half an eye on them. Most likely they just wanted a good brawl to cap off their evening, but he might have friends.

 

His next punch whistled past her ear. Ketturah dodged again and tossed the rest of her akdov in his face.

Spluttering, he reached up to wipe the alcohol from his eyes with one hand and grabbed at her with the other.

It was all the distraction she needed. She reached under her jacket and pulled out a blaster pistol, aiming at his forehead.

 

All noise in the room stopped.

 

“Hey, I don’ want any trouble…” the twi’lek slurred, raising his hands slowly.

 

“Then leave me alone.”

 

“Don’t move!” shouted a male voice shakily. “I’ve called the city security!”

 

“I don’t need them,” replied Ketturah. She didn’t trust security forces. More of Ronin that she would never quite shake, she guessed.

 

“Don’t you move either. I don’t want anyone killing people in here. They’ll take you both in and sort this out.”

 

Fierfeck. This stuff happened all the time, but they’d probably run her name, and they were technically still in Republic space. Her record was probably pretty impressive.

 

“There’s not much to sort out, really,” said another voice. “I saw the whole thing. He hit first.” Ketturah risked a quick glance at the speaker and saw a human man, age difficult to tell in the dim light, but definitely older, with a shaved head and a set of battered armor. What was his interest in all this?

 

“Still…”

 

“She’ll leave now, if you want her to. Right?” The stranger looked her in the eye.

 

She sighed. “Sure. Whatever.” She was never coming back here anyway, and her drink was gone. Might as well.

 

“Alright… but I don’t want to see either of them in here again,” said the man, who she guessed must be the owner.

 

Ketturah waited until the twi’lek had left before walking out through the crowd, which now gave her a wide berth. Keeping her blaster ready in case the drunk decided to do something stupid, she stepped outside.

 

It had started snowing while she was in there, coming down on the hard-packed drifts and gritty streets. “Hey,” said a voice behind her. The man from inside the Flotation Device.

 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” People didn’t just stand up for you in bars like that. Especially not in that kind of a dump.

 

“Do you remember that contract you did on Makeb? The cheating wife? I was on another job and saw you do it. Nice bit of work.”

 

“You’re a bounty hunter?” He did fit the type. Under the streetlight, she could see that he wasn’t as old as she had thought, just weathered.

 

“Name’s Braden. Fact is, I’m looking for another hunter right now. How’d you like to be famous, kid?”

 

“If you’re recruiting for hutt's dancing girls, I’m not interested.”

 

He laughed. “Ever heard of the Great Hunt?”

 

Ketturah tried not to look surprised. Every bounty hunter knew about the Great Hunt, but it was for the big shots. Not skinny kids who could barely keep ammo in their weapons. “Heard of it.”

 

“It’s pretty much a big contest for hunters like us. Mandalore sponsors it. The winner gets access to the best bounties out there. The losers either die or get a decent amount of press themselves. Best way I know of for an upstart to get more exposure.”

 

“If it’s so great, why don’t you do it yourself?”

 

“I’m past my time, kid. What I’m good for is mostly helping out younger people. Besides: I’ve already got jobs.”

 

“Huh.” Ketturah was starting to get interested in spite of herself. “Maybe I should just enter myself.”

 

“You’ll need a support team. You’ll be hunting the toughest challenges in the galaxy. I’ve got one.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I might be interested. But why me?” She wasn’t anything much to look at, she knew. Only eighteen and looked younger, hair pulled messily into a ponytail, black tattoo covering half her face. She didn’t even have her own armor, just thick-soled boots up to her knees and a grey hoodie over a shirt and cut-off shorts.

 

“Cause I saw you on Makeb, and I think you have potential. You’re one of the best shots I’ve ever seen, and you’ve got nerves of steel.” Braden’s face broke into a half smile. “Besides. You remind me of my daughter.”

 

Ketturah paused. Should she? “I’ll do it.” She stuck out her hand.

 

Braden took it, giving it a firm shake. “Great! See you on Hutta.”

 

 

 

Notes:

 

Ketturah and I share the problem of looking much younger than we are. It's merely annoying for a college student, but I imagine it could be a serious issue for bounty hunters.

 

The Floatation Device is the name of a real pub, and it was too crazy not to use here. Not being a drinker myself, I did about 2 hours worth of research trying to figure out what sort of alcohol Ketturah should be drinking

 

The daughter Braden refers to at the end is Mako. We don't get to see much of their relationship, but headcannon that they're pretty close. Also, saying daughter would be the best way to avoid complicated explanations.

 

 

And for the second, I'm actually going to repost a story from a long while back, the first one I posted on this thread, actually. I've updated a few things, improved the grammer, etc. It explains who Ketturah is as well as being for the next prompt in my quest to use all of them. I hope that's ok

 

Title: Long Ago

Prompt: Bad Timing

Characters: Ketturah Atridies (Bounty Hunter, currently age 12), Mallena Dayne (Trooper, currently 14)

Length: 1,800 words

Spoilers: None

 

Alaurin, would you mind replacing the old post of this story with this one on the index? Thanks

 

I do skip a few of the in-between messages here (at January 24th and February 22nd), so the entire conversation isn't shown

 

 

Jan. 15th

 

Subject: New House!

 

Ketturah,

 

I’m so sorry, I know I said I’d write as soon as we got here, but it took them three days to set up our Holonet connection, and then the boys have been hogging it ever since. The house is really nice, though, way bigger than our apartment. My room is huge! (no more walk-in closet for me!!) Carian has his own room too, and he’s barricaded himself in there. I’m gonna sneak in there sometime, though, just to prove I can, maybe mess up his clothes or something. Not that he’d notice. The garden is great too, Mom says she’s going to plant some vegetables as soon as it warms up. It’s the cold season right now, but it’s sunny and a little breezy, perfect if it were about 40 degrees warmer. They're talking about moving us again next year, though, so we'll see if we get to keep it.

 

Everything would be perfect if you were here. I miss you sooooooooo much. Maybe we’ll move back to Coruscant sometime, or you can come visit us. How’s school going since I left? Is lit still stupid hard?

 

Anyway, Mom says I have to go to bed now (*sigh*). I have school tomorrow. Wish me luck, it’s my first day.

 

Love you, Lena.

 

* * * *

 

Jan 16th

 

RE: New House!

 

Lena,

 

i miss you too. i’m glad your house is great. everything is still the same here, except more boring without you. have you started decorating your room yet? i’ll try to send you some posters or something if i can get some money. don’t worry, i’m not mad. how big is your yard? do you think you’ll get pets? i know you wanted a lobelot or something.

 

yeah, lit is still ridiculous. i don’t know how they expect me to read all of that. readings hard enough when they’re done like normal people talk. i got a pretty good grade on my paper, though. i should, i stayed up all night writing it.

 

i wish i could come visit you, maybe this summer if i can get a job or something when schools out. tell me more about your new place, ok?

 

Ketturah

 

* * * *

 

Jan. 17th

 

RE: New House!

 

I’m so happy about your paper! I know you were working on it when we left. Can you send me a copy? I want to read it. No, I haven’t really started to decorate yet, we have to finish unpacking first, and I haven’t had time to go to the store. You don’t need to send anything, though, I still have my life day money. Our yard isn’t as big as Mom wanted, but it’s probably twice the size of the house, and we’re pretty close to a park for the boys to run around in. Dad’s still vetoing pets, though *sigh*

 

I think I’m going to like my new school, but it’s way smaller than I’m used to. They don’t have any sports or anything either, just basic stuff. Still, the people seem friendly, and my classes won’t be too hard. They’re a year behind what they teach on Coruscant, so I’m two grades ahead of you now.

 

I’m gonna miss doing track with you. Remember that one meet where you took first? The one where the team stayed in that super fancy hotel with the huge pool? I still think about that every time I go swimming. How is track going without me?

 

Lena

 

* * * *

 

Jan 20th

 

RE: New House!

 

darn, i was going to send you a rancor for your birthday. happy birthday anyway. did you get anything good? i sent something, but its not much and probably wont be there til after.

 

yeah, im still running. now that youre gone, i might be the fastest one. or at least, the fastest besides myra. that girl is a living landspeeder. was that match the one where the guy from black sun sector tripped you so you couldnt win and i punched him? and you sprained your ankle? that was a great match besides that. we have another match with senate distrect next week, but im not going, cause i kinda pulled a tendon yesterday.

 

schools really lonely without you to eat lunch with and pass notes in class. no one else really knows who i am.

 

happy birthday again,ketturah

 

* * * *

 

Jan 24th

 

RE: New House!

 

I got your package. Thanks a ton for the necklace, I’ll wear it all the time. I didn’t get a ton of stuff, Mom and Dad have been too busy with the move and all to go shopping. Mom did make a really nice cake, though, really rich with this amazing fluffy frosting, the one we always have for birthdays. Carian gave me a new holovid, though. It’s the one I was telling you about, about the Great Hyperspace War. It’s totally inaccurate to the real events, but really cool, and a great story.

 

I’m sorry you’re lonely. Unfortunately, I can’t really recommend anyone on the track team as friends. They’re all kind of self-absorbed. You might have better luck though. Maybe you could check out some of the student clubs? I hope you find someone soon, and know that I miss you every day.

 

Love, Mallena.

 

* * * *

 

Feb. 20th

 

RE: New House!

 

that’s great! do you think you’ll say yes? he sounds really cute! do you think your dad will let you go out with him?

 

something awesome happened! i made a new friend. his name is ronin, and hes my biology partner for lab. hes really funny, and he knows more about this area of the city than anyone ive ever met. he introduced me to a couple of his friends too, and we went to the mall and hung out for a while. he says he wants to do it again sometime. hes kinda cute, but id love to have him as a friend too.

 

oh, and i got in a big fight with mom and dad last night too. i messed up big time, and got a 42 on the galactic languages quiz. they told me that i couldnt go to any track meets until i got my grade up. how am i supposed to do that? its not like they ever help. theyre never even home anymore.

 

ketturah

 

* * * *

 

Feb 22

 

RE: New House!

 

Hmm… I’m not really sure. Have you tried asking them for help? If you have, then you could try the tutoring center at the school. They’re pretty good at helping people figure out their homework. They used to help my brothers out all the time.

 

I’m not really sure what to do about your parents, like I said. I don’t fight with mine much. I guess I’d say just be nice to them, and do what they tell you to, and they’ll come around.

 

How are you and Ronin doing? What’s he like? And his friends?

 

Everything’s good here, and I found out that there’s a competitive shooting team in the next town over. I’m thinking about joining, it’ll give me something to do.

 

Lena

 

* * * *

 

April 5th

 

RE: New House!

 

well, the parents and me are still on the outs. today its that ive been sneaking out of the house to meet ronin. well, thats what they call it, anyway. fact is, theyre still never around, but they just tell me “dont leave the house” and head off to work without giving me anything to do. ronin and i have fun together, and they cant tell me not to see my friends. last week it was that i failed another test (come on, who needs school anyway? its not like im ever going to be able to use this stuff). tomorrow itll probably be cause i want to drop out of track.

 

its just not fun for me any more. all the girls are drama queens wholl eat you alive if you give them the chance. someones been spreading rumors about me too, all over the school. they say im a total whore, and that i regularly steal from the track clubs cashbox, and that im just waiting to drop out. well, maybe the last part is true. everyone hates me here except ronin and his friends. i wish you were still here.

 

miss you, ketturah

 

* * * *

 

April 7th

 

RE: New House!

 

Ketturah, I can’t think of any good way to say this, so I’m just going to say it: I’m worried about you. You don’t sound like the Ketturah I remember. You’re so cynical and harsh, and it scares me. Are you OK? Are you in some kind of trouble? You can talk to me, I promise I won’t tell.

 

What are you and Ronin doing with all the time you spend together? You never tell me, but from what you do say, he sounds like a bad sort. Please don’t be mad at me. I just had to say this, cause I care about you, and don’t want you to get hurt.

 

Lena

 

* * * *

 

April 29th

 

RE: New House!

 

Ketturah? Are you there? Please don’t be mad at me. I shouldn’t have said those things the way I did. I’m sorry. I don’t know Ronin, I can’t tell you if he’s good or bad. But please, talk to me. Are you OK?

 

Please write back

 

Mallena

 

* * * *

 

June 15th

 

RE: New House!

 

lena, i'm so scared. i dont know what to do. you were right, you were right about everything.

 

tonight ronin and me and his friend toria were at the store, that little corner place where we used to buy candy. wed done it a million times, ronin would chat up the clerk while toria looked through the stuff on the shelves really obviously and i would sneak around and take whatever i could, cigarras or snacks, or whatever. but something went wrong, and next thing i knew, ronin was shouting for us to run and we did. he told us to split up and ran off. toria and i kept running and running. i thought my heart would explode. the clerk was running after us, but we lost him.

 

i went to meet back up with ronin and when i got there he had a blaster pointed at a cop. i dont know where he got it, but i guess the cop was trying to arrest him or something. ronin told me to leave, but i wouldnt. i tried to grab the blaster, and it went off when i did. the guy was dead when i checked him. ronin looked scared and threw down the blaster and ran away. thats when the guy walking his pets showed up. i dont know if he got a good look at me, i ran away so fast, but my fingerprints are all over the place. it looks like i shot the guy. i guess in a way i kinda did. what should i do? i cant go home and ronin wont answer his door.

 

i have to leave. ill take the blaster ronin left, and i know where my parents keep their extra money stashed. i can stow away on a cargo ship, hide in the empire or something.

 

i dont know if youll ever hear from me again, mallena, so goodbye. dont forget about me

 

Edited March 22, 2015 by Mirdthestrill

[Striges]

@Feldraeth: I always saw Sylas in a more favorable light, but I can totally see this characterization in her as well. The idea that Kilran sent a blanket order/request to all docked ships makes sense, as well as waiting for a volunteer and tailoring the message to the situation, rather than the other way around as it’s presented in-game.

 

@Mirdthstrill: Love the bar’s name, even if it did take to the second part of the sentence before I realized it was the name of the bar and not an actual device for floating. I like Ketturah being the “you want a fight? Have a fight!” kind of character. I can totally see Braden taking to her like he did to Mako.

 

I remember the first exchange between Ketturah and Mallena. Reading these letters (either version) made me feel bad for both of them. Ketturah for being so lonely and lost and Mallena, like the reader, watching a long-distance train wreck and being powerless to stop it.

[Striges]

Last week of March!

 

Week of March 27, 2015

Incongruity--A wookie with curlers, troopers in armor dancing to a popular tune, a toddler with a lightsaber. Some things just don’t seem to go together. The result may be funny or tragic. When has your character encountered incongruous things or odd juxtapositions?

 

And, as ever,

 

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

 

 

This week's featured NotLP:

 

Paying the Piper - There might be a couple different meanings to this, but in the end nothing comes for free, and one's choices have costs and consequences. Write about a time your character had to pony up the payment...or end up on the receiving end. (Prompt courtesy of Kitar.)

[alaurin]

Sorry all, got a bit behind again so no comments this time. I'll update the index and post some comments tomorrow, I promise. I do have a story to post though and hopefully its worth a read. The creative part of my brain was having a dry spell, therefore my lack of stories lately, so I decided to spend some time in game to see if any ideas sparked. However, I was getting tired of doing dailies so I ended up finally rerolling a fem SW because:

 

Major SW Spoilers

I somehow messed up when I leveled a Fem SW before and didn't have Quinn's affection very high before he turned into a dirty backstabbing bastard aka the Quinncident. As a result, for some odd reason, I never got the one shot with Pierce......something I'd love to experience. This time around I'm going to feed Captain Underpants so many gifts he's going to love me forever......should at least get me what I want.

 

So upon entering the character creator, I fell in love with what I was given randomly and the only thing I changed was her makeup. Then I saw that very first intro cutscene with her and this story popped in my head. So please forgive me for inflicting another character on you all and for another attempt at the 1st person.....idk why the muse seemed to feed it to me in that POV, but eh.....

 

 

Title: The Journey Begins

Prompt: Changes/New Paths

Character: Vyenne Mormont- SW

Setting: Dromund Kaas, Vaiken Space station

Spoilers: Intro to SW Korriban

 

 

 

~Dromund Kaas~

 

 

Thick black smoke was beginning to billow out of the bedroom door, a warm orange glow coming from under the door the only light in the small apartment. Two solid figures could be seen in the dim residence, making their way towards the exit. They were at the door when the taller of the two stopped and removed his helmet.

 

“Hold up……I hear something,” the figure quietly called out, his amber eyes glowing like the flames in the bedroom as he strained to hear.

 

“We need to get out of here,” his partner growled in annoyance, but removed his helm as well.

 

“Quiet for a sec. There…..hear that? Sounds like a baby crying,” the taller Cathar insisted as he headed back towards the bedroom.

 

“Gods be dammed Kale! Have you lost your mind?!”

 

“I’m not leaving a baby to die in here, Kian!” Kale snapped as he threw open the bedroom door, the firelight nearly singing the fine brown fur on his face.

 

“Put your karking helmet back on, idiot!” Kian barked as he jammed his on and followed his littermate.

 

The bedroom was a blaze, the body on the bed already engulfed and the two men frantically searched for the source of the crying.

 

“In here,” Kian called out when he opened the closet door on the opposite end of the bedroom. The flames had already started licking the ceiling of the closet and clothing was catching fire quickly. The Cathar could feel his plating heating up as he shoved aside the clothing that hadn’t ignited yet, wanting it away from the tiny Human swaddled in the corner. Unfortunately his movements caused some of the burning clothing to fall on the infant. Alarmed, Kian swiftly snatched the burning cloth away then scooped up the now screaming infant. He grabbed the nearest garment that wasn’t on fire and covered the baby, smothering the flames. By then, Kale had joined him and both men hurried out of the bedroom.

 

“That damned Sith never said anything about a baby,” Kian muttered, trying to catch his breath as they headed for the door.

 

“Maybe she didn’t know……”

 

“Oh, she knew and I’d bet my life she wanted this kid dead,” Kian spat as he uncovered the wailing infant’s face, wincing at the damage the burning cloth had done, “Take a good look at her, Kale. It’s singed away, but she had a head of white hair when I opened that closet…….and her eyes.”

 

“Grey,” Kale nodded as the baby’s eyes opened, tears streaming down those silvery orbs, “Just like our client’s loving husband. Looks like Moff Durant had more than just a little fling with the help…….he knocked her up. Explains a lot behind the motivation for this job. Question is…..what do we do now?”

 

“Well I don’t care who or what that b*tch is, I’m not murdering a baby for her!”

 

“Me either, but we have to be careful……..crossing a Sith is basically signing your own death warrant,” Kale frowned, then he noticed the fire escape was still blessedly far from the growing blaze, “We’d better go out through the alley with our stealth generators on.”

 

“Agreed,” Kian nodded as he gently set the baby on the couch and unstrapped his pack, “I’m gonna put some kolto on her face and give her something to make her sleep, then I’ll put her in my pack and we can sneak out. While I’m doing that, see if you can find some formula and diapers somewhere. I don’t want to risk stopping anywhere and I think it’s best if we get off planet as soon as we get back to the ship.”

 

“What the kriff Kian?!” Kale blanched when he saw his littermate pull out a dart gun from his pack, “You can’t use a tranq dart on a baby!”

 

“I’m just going to give her a quick poke with it……..should be enough to knock her out long enough for us to get back to the ship.” Kian insisted, his green eyes darting to the flames now spreading to the living room, “Go find that stuff and be quick about it! As soon as I have her secured, we need to get the void out of here.”

 

“Shhhh sweetling, I know it hurts,” Kian murmured as he took a dart out of his gun, “But this’ll make you go to sleep so we can get you far away from here.”

 

 

*~*~*~*Roughly 18 years later*~*~*~*

 

 

“The shuttle to Korriban will begin boarding in ten minutes. All academy potentials are required to board first…..”

 

It felt like I’d just closed my eyes when the announcement echoed throughout the station. Reluctantly I opened them, blinking away those last vestiges of sleep as I sat up. As my vision cleared, I glanced at the chrono on the wall, seeing only two hours had passed since I entered this dingy little lounge to get some sleep. It smelled of unwashed travelers, stale food, and cheap cigarras, but the threadbare couch I was currently laying on was surprisingly comfortable and I was close to the shuttle area at least.

 

The flight from Tatooine to Vaiken Station had taken nearly five days with all the stops and sleep was hard to come by when you were crammed in the economy section of the transport. Auntie couldn’t afford to book me a compartment, not even a shared one, so that meant I was stuck in with the rest of the poor. Not that I look down upon anyone of that status, but it doesn’t mean I want to sit in an uncomfortable seat next to a sweaty human for hours on end. The stopover on Nar Shaddaa provided some relief at least…….the sweaty Human was replaced by an elderly Zabrak whose kindly eyes crinkled at the corners every time she smiled. She was nice enough to talk to, but she snored when she slept……which was often and I found myself envious of her obvious ease.

 

Truth was that my nerves had been on edge ever since my uncle called last week. For as long as I could remember, he insisted that Korriban was too dangerous for me……even after allowing my cousin to the origin planet of the Sith Purebloods for her advanced training two years ago. Auntie was more than happy to have me home, but I wanted to be trained like Eskella. Even though I was a year younger then my cousin, I was already stronger than her in the Force and Uncle knew it so he arranged for me to be trained on Tatooine since he had a friend stationed at the Imperial outpost in Mos Ila and I’d flourished over the years. Even Lord Harren said there was little more he could teach me and he promised to contact my uncle about getting me into one of the Sith Academies.

 

As it was, the fates agreed with my mentor, but not the way I was expecting. Six days ago, my uncle called and said he needed me on Korriban. He had an opening for me to enter the Sith Academy there, but he needed me to get there quickly. He didn’t go into much detail, but I had the feeling this wasn’t a simple enrollment. Auntie began making plans immediately, arranging to put the small moisture farm up for sale and booking me passage to Korriban. She would relocate to Uncle’s flat in Kaas City as soon as the farm sold since we had no other family on Tatooine and with both me and Eskella gone, they wouldn’t need the farm anymore.

 

I stood, stretching out my stiff body, feeling the familiar ache as my sensitive scar tissue pulled at the metal on my face. I felt a hot flare and reaching out with the Force, I felt its source, a greasy spacer currently raking his eyes over my body. The simple letheris pants hugged my hips and the plain shirt left little to the imagination. Though I’d never known my Mother, I looked just like her…..except for my hair and eyes. Auntie showed me a filmsie of Mother once when they were still in school and Mom had been very beautiful indeed. Looks hadn’t meant much to me growing up on a desert planet and it’s hard to worry about those things under the blistering sun, but apparently the spacer liked what he saw because he made a move as if he intended to approach, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of clothing that appeared to have spent several weeks since the last time they’d seen a washing machine.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” I flashed him a cold smile, turning so he could see my full face. His greedy eyes widened when they got to my scarred half and his leering grin weakened as he tried to decide if he should be attracted or repulsed, “Because I’m not your type.”

 

Biting back the snicker his gaping mouth inspired, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and picked up my travel bag, which had served as my pillow and headed for the shuttle hanger. I wasn’t worried that the spacer would follow me because most didn’t once I let them know I wasn’t interested. Most men balked at the damage on my face, but some thought the firm curves of my figure more than made up for it. Those I enjoyed dealing with, remembering how I came about in this galaxy, and I always left a lasting impression on those stubborn fools.

 

I entered the hanger as the five minute call went out and passing a restroom, I decided to use the facilities before getting in line. After using a toilet that I layered with an inch of paper before sitting on, I decided to freshen up at the sink. I splashed some cool water on my face, using a paper hand towel to pat it dry. I glanced up to catch my reflection in the mirror, my silvery eyes looking rather bloodshot from lack of sleep and even with my dark brown skin, I could see circles under them. I frowned as the paper towel caught on the metal implant that covered the right side of my jaw. I carefully extracted the paper before it could irritate the sensitive scar tissue, then reached into the backpack I’d set on the sink and pulled out some lotion to sooth my dry face.

 

Feeling a little better, I put the lotion away and grabbed my hair brush to get the tangles out of the thick white locks that framed my face. My face was actually a striking contrast to see and even I had to admit was beautiful if one could get past the scars and implant. Pale eyes in dark skin framed by white hair……an unusual combination that often caught people’s attention.

 

Ever the cautionary, my aunt had wanted me to dye my hair and wear cosmetic lenses to change my eye color, but I’d balked at the suggestion. I wouldn’t hide my looks, I was proud of my heritage…..it was my father’s shame, not mine. Even the scars didn’t bother me, those and the grey metal covering the right side of my face served as a daily reminder of who my real enemy was. It was my driving force, like chanting a mantra over and over again it strengthened my resolve anytime I had doubts. The anger inside would never die and it was all focused on one being…..Lady Durant.

 

 

 

“I can’t say this enough Vyenne,” Uncle insisted, “You must refer to me as Overseer Tremel. On Korriban I am not your uncle and it would be dangerous for anyone to find out who you really are. You’ll be facing enough dangers at the Academy without having someone discover Moff Durant’s bastard survived.”

 

“Let them find out,” I shot back, “I fully intend to throw it in his disgusting wife’s face just before I kill her.”

 

“I wouldn’t be in too much of a rush for that confrontation my dear,” Uncle chided, “She’s a powerful Sith and you are no match for her……not yet anyway. However, if my plan works, you’ll be apprenticed to an even more powerful Lord and one day, you shall have your revenge.”

 

I knew his words were truth although it galled me to admit it…..even to myself. “I’ll remember Uncle,” I promised, “What about Eskella? Does she know I’m coming?”

 

“No and we’ll need to keep it that way I’m afraid,” Uncle sighed, a flicker of sadness showing in his usually warm brown eyes before he could mask it, “Eskella has changed Vyenne. She isn’t the same cousin you knew as a tot. She’s embraced some of the darker aspects of academy life and I don’t trust that she’ll keep quiet about who you are.”

 

“Certainly she’d recognize me?!”

 

“Perhaps not,” Uncle shook his head, “You were only four when she left Tatooine to study on Dromund Kaas. Yes, you favor your mother now, but Eskella never met her. My biggest concern is your hair and eyes, but Gracella tells me you refuse to alter either of those.”

 

“Because I shouldn’t have to!” I growled, the rage bubbling to the surface as it usually did when it came to my heredity, “I’m not ashamed of who I am! Besides, maintaining the altered coloring for my entire stint at the academy would get costly.”

 

“You should be proud of who you are and you make a good point, however I urge you to be cautious,” Uncle warned, “You are quite strong in the Force and while you show much promise with the raw, untapped power within you, you are by no means ready to face a true Dark Lord of the Sith. If Lady Durant were to find out you were alive, it would mean a slow painful death for you, me, Gracelle, and Eskella.”

 

“I promise to be careful Uncle,” I assured him, “And one day I’ll have justice for Mom.”

 

 

“The shuttle to Korriban is now boarding, all Academy potentials should be in front of the line. Again, the shuttle to Korriban is now boarding.”

 

I wiped at the moisture that had pooled in my eyes, and took one last look in the mirror before snatching up my travel bags and leaving the restroom to begin my real journey.

 

 

 

Author’s Note

 

I hope no one minds the liberties I took with Overseer Tremel and his daughter Eskella.

 

Edited April 7, 2015 by alaurin

[alaurin]

Index is up to date! Now have a whole slew of commentary......

 

 

@Osetto: Again, I love the description in that action bit…..you do it well. LOL, love how ‘Osk’ got his name!! Made me recall the good ole days when I worked in the drive threw at McDonalds during those fun college years and it also brought to mind the movie Idiocracy when Luke Wilson’s character gets the name Not Sure.

 

 

@Feldraeth: I like Noctaire and how brutally honest and up front she is. She hasn’t had it easy and one can tell there’s no love lost between her and her mother, but at least they can trust in one another when push comes to shove. I’m eager to read the next part of this little saga.

 

Re: The Top Deck-That was definitely an interesting meeting! I’m glad that Roan finally learned not to believe everything he reads and that Vette will hopefully be getting better soon.

 

RE: Making the call-It’s been a long time since I’ve run Black Talon, but you’ve set things up well for it. I might have to go do a run through of those early FP’s since people are starting to write about them more.

 

 

@frauzet: I loved the interaction with Smilo and Keeper……and the plot thickens with Iolith even when she’s not there! I’ve been enjoying your thread and always am eager for the next part.

 

@AKHadeed: A very insightful piece! Angie has definitely become hardened in the years she’s been hunting, but at least she questions herself for not feeling anything for the man she’s just killed…..I’m not sure many would at that point. And yes, she should buy herself a little something nice.

 

@MrTwo: Ah, I was wondering if we’d see June again. I liked the further insight into her, her disability, what caused it, and how she’s learned to live with it. I like that she knows her limits and has her droid with her. I can’t blame her for the mistrust towards anyone offering her a better situation, sounds like she’s heard it all before. I’m glad she decided to trust him in the end though and it’ll be interesting to see what happens next.

 

@Mirdthestrill: I was wondering when we’d see Ketturah again! I liked the insight on what her life was like before Braden came along. Their meeting was very appropriate and it’s always fun to see others’ take on how the BH begins their class story. Like you and Ketturah, I have always looked younger than my years. Back in college, my boyfriend (now my husband) used to be concerned after someone asked if I was fifteen……we’re the same age.

 

RE: Long Ago- I remember reading the other version and in that as well as the updated one, I feel so bad for both girls. It’s hard when a childhood friend moves away and they seemed very close. I feel Mallena’s anguish at realizing her friend is on a downward spiral but not being able to do anything to help her.

 

**I changed the Long Ago story in the Index as requested, but it was filed under Mallena. Do you want to keep it there or do you want me to move it to Ketturah?

 

 

Separate Spoilery Comment: Trooper Coruscant spoilers

 

@frauzet: I’ve always hated that particular mission and I’ve never been able to bring myself to kill those people. Nik’s reaction was so real and I liked how Jorgan was there to say just the right things……and so very true.

 

Edited April 1, 2015 by alaurin

[Mirdthestrill]

@Alaurin- Whichever you prefer for the story, I'm fine with wherever you think it fits best. I think your background for you warrior is very interesting, especially the bit at the beginning. Looking forward to the day she meets Lady Durant. Also, I saw pics of her on Tumblr and she looks great

 

I'm not entirely happy with how the first piece for this week turned out, but I can't think of exactly how to modify it to better say what I wanted to say, so here it is.

 

Title: History

Prompt: Teachers and Heroes

Characters: Eyrie Lancaster (Jedi Knight), Orgus Din

Length: 500 words

Spoilers: References to an NPC from the Coruscant Jedi Knight storyline

 

Index after Road To Coruscant

 

 

Eyrie sat cross-legged on the thin floor mat, Master Orgus across from her. She hadn’t been his apprentice for long, but his presence was already familiar, a steady baseline rhythm punctuated with excited staccatos. It stood out against the more distant mix of signals that was Coruscant. When she had arrived, it had taken her nearly a full day to adjust to the higher level of input. By now, however, she could block most of it. Not entirely, though. A Jedi must always be aware of her environment.

 

He shifted his weight and said “Even though you’re a Jedi Knight now, the Council thinks it would be best if I continued to work with you for a while. I mean, you were only an apprentice for a few months, and we want to make sure you’ve gotten all the training you need.”

 

Or you don’t trust me. Eyrie pushed the unworthy thought away. It might be true, but she would gain nothing by thinking about it. “Yes, Master.”

 

He chuckled a bit. “You don’t have to say that all the time, you know.”

 

“Alright.” It felt wrong to address him less formally, but if that was what he wanted, so be it. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“For now? Relax. Enjoy yourself. You went through a lot to get here, and Coruscant is a fun planet for people who haven’t spent much time here. We’re meeting General Var Suthra in the morning, but there’s nothing until then.”

 

“Thank you.” Eyrie stood up and walked out of the room. Perhaps she should explore a bit.

 

That evening, she returned to find Master Orgus sitting on the balcony of their quarters, reclining in a chair. “What

are you doing, Master?” she said.

 

“Watching the sunset,” he replied. “How was your day?”

 

“Fine.” She sat on the other chair. “Coruscant is a very complex city. There’s a lot of pain here, but a lot of hope as

well.” She stopped, embarrassed at her floweriness.

 

“It’s been through a lot since the Sacking. You have a bit of a history here as well, I’ve heard.”

 

“You heard correctly.” This was the conversation she had known would come eventually. Had she dreaded or

anticipated it?

 

He turned his attention in her direction. “I know what happened with your parents, Eyrie. And I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault. What they did has absolutely no effect on what I think of you.”

 

“Why wouldn’t it?”

 

“Because you’re your own person. They made choices, you make yours.”

 

“But if I make the same wrong choices-“

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“They defied the Jedi order, and their love destroyed them.”

 

Something rippled in Master Orgus’ Force presence. “It didn’t have to, though. They could have used it to strengthen their compassion for others instead.”

 

Eyrie sighed. Could he be right? “I will think on what you said.”

 

“Just something to consider, Eyrie.”

 

 

 

 

For my second piece, I'm doing an excerpt/shameless plug from my main fanfiction, She Who Battles Monsters: An Assassin's Tale. This section takes place near the end of my version of Korriban, after the students have undergone a series of trials ranging from a written test (admittedly taken at 4 am after not eating for a day or two, but still not that bad) to undergoing Force-induced hallucinations of the things they fear the most. This picks up just after the last one, a free-for-all, capture the flag-style melee in the Dark Valley.

 

Title: The Final Trial

Prompt: Sacrifice

Characters: Kiarn (later Kiarn Skyfall, Sith Inquisitor), Meiko Antares (another academy student and Kiarn's friend)

Length: 1,500 words

Spoilers: Massive spoilers for Kiarn!verse Korriban, no game spoilers

 

Index earliest of all Kiarn stories so far. Also, would you mind adding Skyfall as her last name to her entry?\

 

WARNING: Some violence and disturbing images

 

 

Meiko picks up the dead girl’s backpack and opens the flap looking sick. “She’d already drunk the water, but there’s still a ration cube here. And her datapad. Wait, this is- Oh!” She pulls out a three-pointed metal object. A relic.

 

Relief floods me. We’ve both found the objectives we need to be safe. Now all we have to do is survive until the rest of the acolytes pick each other off.

 

My datapad buzzes and I hurriedly pull it out. Another message from the headmaster.

 

Congratulations, surviving acolytes. You have passed your final trial. Shuttles will arrive to pick you up shortly. Do not attack any other students. You can still fail if you do not follow instructions.

 

-Lord Eliss

 

Meiko manages a tired smile “We did it, Kiarn.”

The shuttle appears about a half hour later. It hovers a few meters off the ground and extends the ramp. I muster the strength to swing onto it and pull Meiko up behind me. We’re the only two acolytes inside, and no teachers, either. She sits down heavily, and I notice a dark patch on her tunic, right under her sash. “Are you hurt?”

 

She nods a little. “It’s not that bad.”

 

“Are you sure? You should have the med droid look at it when we get back.” That’s a pretty sizable amount of blood for ‘not that bad’.

 

“I will.”

 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I know this could be perceived as weakness, but it’s just the two of us, and the trials are over.

 

“I don’t think so. It’s not bleeding anymore, it just hurts.”

 

“OK.” I set down next to her and lean back against the headrest.

 

“So, what do you think your master is going to be like?”

 

I shrug. As strange as it seems, I haven’t given much thought to it. I’ve spent many long, sleepless nights, both before and during my time at the academy, planning what I’ll do when I become a Lord, and even a Darth someday, but skimmed over my time as an apprentice. I assumed that since I’d have no control over who and how, I shouldn’t spend too much time worrying about possibilities. And like the Trials, when and how apprentice selection happens is secret. Whoever my master is, I’ll work for him, do his bidding, and quietly find a way to destroy him.

 

The shuttle touches down with a slight rocking and we exit onto the landing pad we departed from at the start of this trial. Like always, the wind cuts straight through our clothes, stronger than it was deeper in the valley. Meiko’s are covered with reddish dust and hang in tatters. I imagine mine don’t look much better.

 

A human male Sith Lord meets us as we approach the Academy. He’s about sixty standard years, with light grey hair, skin a few shades lighter than Meiko’s and a reasonably good physique for his age. We bow. Where have I seen him before? Oh, that’s right. He’s one of the Sith we saw when Lord Eliss announced the Trials. The ones I guessed were there to oversee. It seems like so long ago now.

 

He allows us up with a wave of his hand. “Good, you’re already together. Follow me.” Up close, his eyes are icy blue-grey and his voice is soft, sophisticated, and perfectly Imperial in accent. He leads us inside. From the atrium, we take the stairs up to the balcony, make two right turns in quick succession, and stop in front of a closed door. He taps the keypad next to it in a rapid sequence and it opens. We obey his gestured command to enter.

 

As soon as Meiko is through the door, it shuts. A chill ripples up the skin of my arms. Something is wrong here. I can tell by her expression that Meiko feels it too. Everything is perfectly still.

 

A com crackles. The voice of the Sith who brought us here. “Congratulations on passing your ninth trial. The twenty of you are the best that Korriban has produced in the last few years. But there is one final trial that you must pass before you will be accepted as an apprentice.

 

“You have been placed in a room with one other acolyte, matched according to your abilities and level of injury after the last trial. The door will unlock when only one of you remains.”

 

Eliss lied. That’s all I can think. There’s another trial.

 

Then the reality of what the Sith said sinks in. Only one of us remains. In order to pass the final trial, I have to kill Meiko.

 

She steps toward me. “Kiarn-“

 

With the Force, I lift her into the air in a harmless version of the choking maneuver that some Sith seem to favor. I need time to think. What should I do?

 

I could kill her. I could kill her easily. I doubt she’ll have the strength to resist much. Despite what she said, the blood loss has weakened her. Cold sweat pours down my neck.

 

Memories swirl through my mind. Her kindness to me on my first day. Studying in the library. That night on the statue, where I felt like I could be truly honest. Fighting side by side in the last trial. No one I’ve met has done anything like that for me. Not even my mother. I could never throw that away. It would be destroying one of the few truly good people I’ve ever known. And why? To save myself.

 

But she’s also a weakness. I think of how others have been able to manipulate me into making myself vulnerable to protect her. As long as she’s around, I’m exposed, both to those who would exploit our friendship and to her, should she prove to be much more devious that I’ve thought. Where I’m going, I can’t have any attachments whatsoever.

 

She’s struggling, trying to escape. I see her mouth moving, but whether she’s not actually speaking or I just can’t hear, I have no idea.

 

How can I get out of this? If we could escape this room, steal the shuttle, hide again… No. We’d never make it to the landing pad. Not with this many Sith here. If we sat down and simply refused to do it, I know they’ll just kill us both. It would be a clear demonstration that we’re too weak to graduate. One of us has to go. But if I do it… How am I any better than the ones I want to destroy?

 

My hands are starting to shake.

 

Meiko stops struggling and just looks straight at me. Her expression is full of grief and hurt and, oddly strength. She’s not weak. In fact, together, trained, we’d be almost unstoppable. She’s easily one of the most talented Force users here, and by far the most stable. But what would she want? She doesn’t even want to become a Sith. Would she thank me for sacrificing myself to send her to a life she hates? I don’t know. But I know I can’t make that choice for her.

 

It feels like the walls have disappeared and the only two people in the galaxy are Meiko and me, standing alone in an infinite sea of black.

 

More images. These are of me as a child, alone in the dark, wishing sleep wouldn’t come so I didn’t have to dream. Begging someone, anyone to find a doctor to keep my mother alive. Being handed off to another stranger who would take me away put me to work until he found I was no longer of use. All the evil I hold the Sith responsible for. If I die, here, it will continue forever, and those who made me suffer will never feel what I’ve felt.

 

But she’s reminded me of the other side of life. The side where people do things for others simply because they can, without asking anything in return. Where loyalty persists when it’s not easy or convenient. Where you’re willing to endure pain for someone else. She’s reminded me that there’s some good in the universe. To destroy any of it would be monstrous. I look away from her, to the plain empty walls.

 

Weeks of trials, years of study, a lifetime of planning, and it all comes down to this little room. I see myself stabbing her with the blade that’s still at my back, walking out of here a Sith Apprentice, knowing that I’ve done something foul. I see turning the blade on myself instead, blood flowing from my chest, blackness closing the world to a tiny spot, knowing that I’ve failed in what I set out to do, but avoided the depravity I’ve been asked to commit.

 

The trembling fingers of my outstretched hand slowly close into a fist, tighter, tighter, until I feel her life fade out of existence.

 

Because I’m not strong enough to become my own sacrifice. Because I’m not weak enough to let a threat like that live.

 

Because in the end, I need to become a Sith more than I need a friend.

 

 

 

Note:

 

For those who are curious, Lord Erius is the Sith who met Kiarn and Meiko on the landing platform. He was there to pick up Quillan as his apprentice.

 

[Striges]

April Fool!

 

Week of April 3, 2015

Japes, Satire, and Parody: Beings of every kind tell jokes, often about each other. What about your character? Do they delight in mocking those who desperately deserve it? Maybe they’ve been the butt of someone else’s spoof. Or perhaps they just enjoy seeing authority taken down a few pegs. This week, have a little fun at the expense of your character, their friends, or enemies.

 

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

 

This week's featured NotLP:

Technology - One of the great things about sci-fi is the futuristic technology. Star Wars boasts all kinds of innovations, from droids, tracking beacons, tractor beams, super lasers, lightsabers, blasters, and omnipresent (or not?) links to the Holonet. Some technologies date from ancient races, and their secrets are forgotten; some new technologies are just in the prototyping and testing stage; some are deployed on every street corner. Write about your characters' experiences with the tech of Star Wars. Prompt courtesy of Kitar.

 

 

 

 

 

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

[Feldraeth]

Sorry it’s late, I’ve not really felt like writing for the last fortnight or so, not since I heard the news. Jeremy Clarkson left One Direction… no, Sir Terry Pratchett died. Anyway, I’m back and with a new story to boot (not that I post when I don’t have a story) but first, some comments.

 

Comments

 

 

@Mirdthestrill: Wow, lots of stories in the meantime. Here goes…

Opportunity Knocks: Could really see the dive and the detail in the fight. Not many people know that punching a jaw will break fingers, so that Ketturah almost punches as a feint amused me and set up her aggressive and deceptive fighting style.

 

Bad Timing: you can feel the slow strain on their relationship as it all starts to fall apart. From a more technical standing, I read a version of this one a while back (and looked it up when I checked into the forum and first read these two a week ago) and I can see the improvements. That is not to say that your work has ever been less than spectacular, but it has improved. If this comment has offended, I apologise, that isn’t my intent. What I am trying to convey is if -1 = bad, 0 = neutral and +1 = good, your work has gone from +x to +x+.05 where .5<X<1 and has not been quantified to avoid any arguments and flame wars.

TL;DR: past work was good, new work is better. Actually, that’s way more concise.

 

History: I read that ending, paused, remembered that you ship Orgus and Kiwiks, then realised he wasn’t just projecting a Jedi ideal of separation from past principle but speaking from personal experience.

 

The Final Trial: I knew from the moment I read the Battle Royale setup during the Sith trials what was coming, but the quiet introspection at the end hit me like a truck. Bravo. Hang on, Eliss isn’t her master, was this actually a tenth trial or a sick joke on his part? If so, Karannai (sp?) needs to level up and deal out some righteous smiting.

As a plug for She who Battles Monsters, it has definitely succeeded. I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, but I’ve just opened it up in a new tab. Whatever I had planned for today is less interesting.

 

@Alaurin: As always, I like your characterisation, especially the way you can get so much character over without the need for long dialogues or exposition. Also, the nepotism is strong with this one , which I suppose makes what happens immediately before your quest into the Tomb of Tulak Hord even more difficult. Given your past history of villains, Durant’s build-up is going to be awesome (or do I mean terrible, whichever is appropriate for villains), but no pressure.

 

 

 

Prompt: Incongruity

Title: A Lord’s Chambers

Perspective: Braca

Word Count: 1,871

Spoilers: Minor SI spoilers

 

 

It had been a long day pointlessly wasted on my master’s personal hobby: being pregnant with force sensitive purebloods. I’d spent it sensing sex, weight, force sensitivity and ridge strength. She couldn’t do it herself: her own power would drown any presence the foetus showed, so she needed an assistant. Now that I am her only female apprentice, the job falls to me. So, when I opened the door only to be bodily punched by a heatwave, I was a little surprised.

 

The room practically glowed with heat. While it’s not necessarily a bad thing on a comfort level, It meant only one thing: someone’s been fiddling with my heat settings. This is more of a problem for me than most. Twi’leks come from an arid planet so we don’t have hair for heat retention, the same way humans do. This would be insignificant if I were on Korriban, but I’m not: my fortress is on Ziost, the frozen former capitol of the Sith Empire. A line of small warm footprints stained the carpet: someone’s been using my bathroom. Okay, this is turning out like that old folk tale, Fairhair and the Gundarks. What next, were my bedsheets rumpled and bulging suspiciously? Okay, they were: someone’s been using my bed. No, I’m Sith and a scientist: I don’t mindlessly cite dogma when there’s more accuracy available. Someone is using my bed! I stalked over, the next part of the tale flicking into my head like an unwanted song lyric.

 

The Gundarks fell upon fairhair, tore her to shreds and picked the bones clean. Of course, there was another version, where the Gundarks walked into her trap and were fried by lightning, but I wasn’t overly concerned. It’d take a Darth to plough through my defences and I couldn’t sense anything that powerful from the bed.

 

I reached the head of my bed and saw that I was wrong, technically at least. Darth Zash lay there, asleep, her button nose snuffling against my pillow. On one level, my conscious mind went ‘aww’ and stopped there. On another, I was actually impressed. I have the best locks and passwords money can buy protecting my personal chambers, and she’d gotten through them without alerting my head of security.

 

Still, entering another Sith’s chambers without an invitation was dangerous, especially if you weren’t there to kill them. If you were there to kill them, it made things a lot simpler. If you were a small, defenceless child with the force presence of a Mooka, it was practically suicidal. My inner Sith was no different, rallying power to smash the errant child for its disobedience. It railed against its cage of reason and patience, impotently. I will not sacrifice my plans and the closest thing a Sith can have to friendship out of some sense of glorified pique.

 

Instead, I reached over, and gently shook her shoulder. It felt like wiping someone’s life work or defacing an intricately detailed stone carving waking her up, but that didn’t stop me. After maybe a minute, she slowly cracked open an eye and blearily looked up at me.

 

“Did you mistake my room for yours?” I asked sweetly, my gaze focussed on her like a hawk-bat’s on its prey. I knew she hadn’t. They were on different floors, and opposite sides of the fortress, deep in the area she should know nothing about. Yes, I was definitely going to have words with my head of security in the morning.

“This is your fault,” she grumbled groggily, rolling over to face me.

“Oh,” I asked, quirking an eyebrow. What is my fault precisely, having a comfortable bed?

 

“This body is faulty: it keeps having anxiety attacks in dark areas. It’s all your fault, so you can surrender your bed to make amends,” she demanded, clutching the covers. Uppity little brat: I should… stop and think. Okay, so, initially aggressive; she seeks to put me on the defensive: why? Sith don’t really do defensive, we rise to a challenge, and she knows this. What did she hope to gain provoking me?

“Why my bed,” I asked, baffled. Something faint rankled my nose. Ah, now I get it. I saw the fire in those little green eyes flash with something other than indignation: fear. I could explode at her, monster back like any other Sith would, but that wouldn’t solve anything ad might terrify her enough to ruin my bed as well.

 

“I’ll have someone remake your bed and bring you a new nightdress, but in the meantime: go wash.”

“I have,” she insisted, and while I had seen the wet footprints that led away from my en-suite, I knew she couldn’t have washed properly. I don’t have a sanisteam or bath: I have a sonic shower. She must’ve used the washbasin. Note to self: ensure someone washes out the basin before I use it.

“Again, and use the shower this time,” I ordered, reaching out with my will to activate the sonic. The quiet warbling whine rose into hearing and then slid beyond range.

 

She glared up at me with a ferocity I hadn’t seen in her adult life. I matched it: I may not throw tantrums like my fellows, but I can impose my will as well as any other Lord. Darth Zash may have the mind and knowledges of a Darth, but she had the body and heart of a little girl. She broke long before I had to step it up.

 

Slowly, she shuffled out of my bed, and I realised she was bare as the day she was born. Uh, actually born, not awakened in that body: she wore a green fairy dress for that. I thought it amusing, even if she didn’t. Stomping as loudly as her little body could manage on carpet, she stormed into my bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Huh, I thought tantrums came in with puberty.

 

I slipped my communicator out from my pocket, and the familiar visage of my assistant manifested in blue, looking as pristine as ever. I was sure I’d be the last one awake. No matter, I wanted someone I could trust to oversee this and she certainly counted.

“Eirue, Have someone bring one of Mirsasha’s nightdresses to my chambers, and someone else clean hers,” I commanded,

“It will be done,” she intoned, her voice a pleasing tenor, and then signed off. I tucked the communicator back into its pocket and went over to my dresser.

 

Slowly, I started the familiar motions of unlatching my mantle, liberating my lekku and stripping out of my robe. Beneath I wore a simple underdress, a loose, sleeveless cotton tunic that reached my knees. I know many ladies of the Sith prefer more revealing nightwear when lounging in their personal boudoir, but I don’t have a boudoir and this is comfortable. Ready for bed, I got in on the other side from where Zash had been.

 

I’ve killed to get a bed like this, the perfect blend of soft and yielding yet supporting: add in Zash’s latent body heat warming my cover and it was perfect. There are days I question my decision to leave this bed and days where I long for its plush embrace. Bed, the sweetest thing after a long tiring day. Inevitably, my mind moved away from simple pleasures and back to the problem. Stupid mind.

 

I wondered if weaker bladder control is a side effect of the process or if the original Mirsasha had the same problem. Either way, Zash will need to sort it out before she returns to Lord Vireya. Ugh, it pained me to send my oldest ally to him, but it is necessary. Without this arrangement, I wouldn’t have a force sensitive body with which to implant her slowly degrading mind.

 

Still, I could already imagine the horrors he would inflict on her. I could see him have rival scientists paw over her, checking to see if she was a cyborg, still her and that I had not implanted any control software. He would destroy Zash if he even suspected she wasn’t his real daughter, not that he’d know how his real daughter behaved. Then, once satisfied, he would resent the debt he owed and raise her away from my influence for as long as possible.

 

A quiet knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I must’ve lost track of time. Reaching out with my senses, I could feel Eirue standing behind the reinforced stone and metal bulkhead. I’m not getting back up. The door creaked open as I brushed the activation console with my will and my assistant walked in.

 

“you know, I had thought you’d send someone else and gotten some sleep,” I mused as she entered.

“It is better if fewer people know that the young Lady Vireya was in your personal bedchamber at night and in need of a change of nightclothes,” she explained demurely as I just stood there. I hadn’t even thought of that.

On one side, I could see her reasoning. I am an oddity among the Sith, an alien with power and I certainly had foes because of it. Imperials, Sith and force-blind alike, take a very dim view of aliens abusing children, and such a scandal would make my life very difficult. On the other, she had picked my personal slaves and the guards. Did she believe my foes and rivals had compromised any of them?

 

The bathroom door hissed open, and I saw Zash cautiously peer out from around the corner. Eirue graced over to her, bowing as she handed her the folded dress. The bathroom door hissed shut. Eirue bowed to me and then drifted away, returning to whatever she was doing before my call. A moment later, the door hissed back open and Zash emerged in a purple-pink nightdress that had domesticated Sleens on the front.

 

“Good, now go to bed,” I grumbled as I lay back and turned over, sensing her quietly pad over to the door. I heard

the door hiss shut and lock. Good: she’s gone at last. Now, I can finally get some sleep.

 

Something squirrelled under the covers. Damnit Zash, you’re a grown woman, not a little girl. I was going to tell her to go to her own damn bed but she rested her head on my breast and my heart stopped. She hadn’t done anything hostile, just snuggled against me, and I froze. I-, I suppose she could sleep here tonight, so long as she didn’t wreck my bed too. No, that was a symptom, not the underlying cause.

 

If she was having anxiety attacks, perhaps a protector twin might be advisable? It was an old tradition, giving an heir a slave of roughly the same age, meant to look after them and their interests above all else. They weren’t often used but they could rally a timid or fearful child and help mould them into proper Sith children. Of course, very few protector twins survive their masters’ teenage years, but few slave children survive working in the mines or swamps either. I’ll have Eirue look into it in the morning. Now though, I needed sleep.

 

 

Edited April 4, 2015 by Feldraeth

[Feldraeth]

Hi again, it's me. I didn't really like how the last story came out (a fortnight between original concept and writing tends to bleed ideas. who knew ) so I wrote a new one for the Incongruity prompt. The incongruity is a little meta, but it still fits. If not, it more or less fits the technology prompt.

 

Prompt: Incongruity, Technology, Health,

Title: The Ghost of the Desert: A Fistful of Contracts

Character: Kaina’zul’anon, Mercenary; Mako, The Bounty hunter’s daughter

Word Count: 2,439

Spoilers: BH Tatooine, Imperial Tatooine and two late-stage side-missions

 

 

 

The Sons of Palawa were a tribe of desert survivalists who didn’t like me much. So far as I could care, that was it. Unfortunately, the archaeologists I was babysitting had uncovered some kind of techno virus and a bunch of them got infected. We’d cleared most of them at the base, but the last one got free and was heading for the nearest settlement.

 

One of the boys in security had tagged the infected archaeologist with a tracker before dying, and it showed he was taking as direct a route as he could towards the Sons’ hidden settlement. Captain Golah suggested a quicker route over the clifftop and around into the settlement. Sure, there was a Tusken camp between us and there, but they wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

 

Traipsing over the natives’ homeland for no good reason was usually a problem for me, but a Commander Marcus wanted a flight recorder they’d taken from a ship that crashed right in the middle of their camp. Normally, I wouldn’t care about imperial blunders, but the offer of his entire operating budget had a way of convincing me. What? I’m a private contractor: I need this kind of thing to keep my ship fuelled, my armour working and our bellies full. That’s right: I don’t work alone any more.

 

I glanced over, where she was explaining the situation to the Palawan leader. He didn’t look convinced. No, the Empire wasn’t behind the attack, never mind that the biological agent who’d infected their settlement wore an Imperial uniform. This was her idea, she thought me defending myself would just provoke them. Can’t say I’d disagree with her. Instead, I played the taciturn mercenary and watched the Palawans closely, hands not too far from my blasters. If a fight broke out, I’d have to do all the shooting: Mako still looked a bit shaky.

 

She’d been thrown off a cliff on our way out of the Tusken village, and dislocated her shoulder pretty badly grabbing onto the ship debris. I was by her side, helping her up onto the crashed ship moments after; her attacker hadn’t been so lucky. Womp rats feasted on his broken body at the base of the cliff.

 

After checking her for bleeds and breaks, I reset the joint, airlifted her to the nearest imperial outpost and had their med droid look her over. The price was extortionate, but I don’t want her going into shock because I hadn’t spotted that she’d been haemorrhaging all this time. Okay, I’m exaggerating a bit, but not by much: humans are flimsy. Anyway, the droid found severe ligament damage and put her in for some quick corrective surgery.

 

I’d overseen it and despite knowing what was going on, it made me sick. Imperial medicine isn’t like the Republic’s, the Hutts or anywhere civilised. The droid had peeled the skin over the torn ligament away, matched and stuck the two torn sides back together with a biodegradable protein glue and then bathed the wound in Kolto. Oh and to top it all off, anaesthetic was a luxury item we had to pay extra for. All this was under their human discount. If it had been me under the knife, it would’ve cost double.

 

If Marcus quibbled over the price, we’d be in the red on this whole thing. The archaeologist thing really isn’t paying enough for all we’ve done. Hell, it barely covers the ammo costs. I have a microfacturing plant strapped to my arm to cut on some of the costs, but even raw components aren’t cheap in bulk.

 

While she was under, I did a quick side job for an exchange boss, taking down another one who’d royally pissed off the empire. When I came back, Mako was up and more or less ambulatory. She was still pretty groggy, though. Apparently, she’d met a Nemoidian scientist who’d been working on a droid stunner and she’d offered him my services to test it.

 

I have no problem with her lining up jobs, like I said, we need the creds, but we had a deadline on our main job here. Tyresius Lokai stole a hyperdrive regulator to fix his ship. Sure, the Lady of Pain assured me it wouldn’t work on his ship but I tend not to trust near-naked psychopaths in heat from watching me murder a Gamorrean. Worse still, he’d stolen a speeder, so he could be at his ship already. Every minute we delay is another he used to escape. I’ve chased him all over this barren planet: I’m not letting him get offworld. Still, Mako took the contract, so I’d honour it.

 

I strafed through the nearby gorge, blasting every droid I could see with the damn thing. Eventually, enough droids staggered back to his camp to satisfy the Nemoidian. Terrible @55 or not, I’ll grant that his device is useful enough, once you’ve shot the droids up a bit, or a lot.

 

On the way back, we’d come across the cavern settlement. Okay, so we’d come across their guard droids, but was the same thing. Heading in, we saw a lot of grumpy looking humans standing around what looked like a guard station. Mako had gotten talking and I’d stood with my back to a wall, watching everyone. Sure, most people here looked bedraggled and harmless, but there were more than enough of them with guns to make it hard. I kept an eye on them, keeping my hands close enough to my guns to dissuade them from wreaking vengeance upon our more or less innocent asses.

 

Movement in my peripheral got my attention. It was Mako, bowing to the tribe’s leader and slowly making her way over to me. She hid it well, but I saw the slight sway in her movements. She was on a lot of anaesthetic and even that didn’t cover all the pain.

 

“The Palawans call whatever it was we found the ‘ghost of the desert’ and they blame us for releasing it on them. I’ve gotten him off the death threats, and he’s willing to let us help.”

“So, we’re doing clean-up, and we’re not getting paid: great,” I grumbled. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll save the village but it’d be nice to get something for it too. Like I said, the archaeologists don’t pay well. I saw Mako’s expression and realised it mightn’t have been the wisest thing to joke about.

 

“You think you can get a better deal, you talk to them. Braden used to make the deals, not me,” she snapped. Uh okay, that was new. Mako doesn’t usually get angry over trivial things.

“Pain coming back?” I asked quietly, drawing one of the hyposprays from a pouch. She maintained her glower but I could see it in her eyes: it was a contributing factor. Surreptitiously, I handed it to her and watched her inject the concoction into her thigh. It would take a few moments for the medication to kick in, but the placebo worked immediately.

 

The adjustments to my attitude would take longer: about six hours rest and an hour-long soak in the best bath we can find on this dust-ball planet, if I had to guess. Like I said, It’s been a long day, longer now we had to clean this place out before getting back on Lokai’s trail.

 

“I take it the ravening horde is through there?” I asked, jerking a thumb at the shoddy looking barricade lined with huge flaming braziers. That might work if this was an airborne infection. Smoking out whatever those things were would push them deeper into the tunnels and warrens or force them to rush the only way out. The latter wasn’t necessarily a problem, so long as you had guys with assault rifles on a wedge barricade to set up a killing field. They had a straight barricade with one two tribesfolk perched on top. They didn’t even have an assault rifle, just a single shot hunting rifle, between them. It looked like one kept a watch out, while the other operated the door. Yes, they had a door in their barricade, a clear and easily identifiable weak point to rush. Yeah, these guys were hopeless.

 

“On my mark, open the door,” Mako told the lone tribesmen guarding the passage, a gangly looking teenager. He didn’t look like a fighter, he looked like somebody’d yanked him out of bed and shoved that rifle into his hands. There was no way he’d hold that door if a swarm of infected tribesmen rushed the door. Sure, he might shoot one, but he might hesitate if it was his aunt, teacher, babysitter or whatever on the other end of the barrel: okay, maybe not the teacher, but you get my point. Someone had to keep it secure, something the ‘chief’ obviously hadn’t prepared for. I sighed. Mako wasn’t going to like this.

 

“Mako, you’re staying out here,” I corrected.

“What!” she exclaimed, whirling around to face me, “No way: we’re a team. I’m going in with you.”

“You’re high on painkillers, your shooting arm is nearly useless right now and you’ve got a cybernetic interface on your neck. We don’t know how this techno-virus propagates and I don’t need to be constantly looking over my shoulder in case some airborne spores turn you.”

 

“So what, you want me to sit out here being useless,” she and I could feel the heat in her words. Damn, I didn’t need this right now. Mako is a wonderful and competent person who’s been smothered by her father figure. He didn’t want her at risk in the field, for one reason or another. I could understand his reasoning. Good or not, it was definitely a sore point for her.

“You’re not being useless. I need you out here for when I’m done,” I consoled, shucking my backpack. It was mostly full of stuff I planned to hawk off later, and I didn’t need the weight. It also contained my jetpack and fuel for the flamethrower. Caves are enclosed, so air superiority didn’t mean much. Sure, it meant I couldn’t blast my way out of trouble, but the cost:benefit ratio wasn’t enough in its favour.

 

“While I’m in there, that door needs to stay locked, in case anything gets around me. As far as these guys care, I’m the alien who slaughtered their kin. I don’t doubt they’ll try to screw me. Locking the door and leaving me to asphyxiate is a pretty easy way to do it, it’s what they’re trying with those things right now. I’ll need you on this side to open the door for me”

 

She kept up the glare but it lost some of its ice. The boy’s just grew.

“You think we’re honourless swine?” he demanded, his accent growling a harsh ‘H’. What was it with upset humans today? Seriously, I’ve got to start hanging out with my own species. Either that or get some non-human help; maybe a Jawa: if they’re as effective with machines as they are adorable, it might make a good mechanic.

“No offense, but I’ve worked with guys who’d try to space you just so they’d get a bigger cut. It wasn’t personal, I hadn’t killed anyone’s family, it was just business. You guys think you have a personal beef with me. If you can safely screw me, you probably will,” I rebutted, glancing over to Mako. I’m not the persuasive one in this partnership. She just smiled at me and left me hanging: traitor.

 

“If you think otherwise, keep her safe and prove me wrong, but just in case,” I challenged, affixing a haughty expression and handed Mako my flamethrower, “anything tries to get through this door, grill it with a question about our past. If it can’t answer, grill it. That includes me.” I detached the thin hose from the underside of my gauntlet, and then dumped the backpack it was attached to by her foot. Bending over her bracers, I started picking open its diagnostic panel.

 

“You sure you want to do this alone?” she asked quietly. Stars she was persistent, or maybe I was just giving out that vibe. No, I’d rather have an army of Sith Lords charge in with laser swords, but that wasn’t an option right now.

“No, but the alternative is worse,” I admitted, finishing the jury rig that would let her access the backpack’s microcomputer and fire the flamethrower. She clenched a fist, and the flamethrower let out a little gout up into the air. The kids scurried away, instantly aware of those lovely, flammable tunics they wore. I flashed her a wolfish smile, and she didn’t notice. Instead, she stared at the fire, watching the burst blossom into a nebula of light and heat. After a long moment, she let it go.

 

“Try not to have too much fun without me,” she pouted, eyes glancing at the door beside us. Although she kept her tone light, I could feel the concern in her voice. She was wondering if I going to start shutting her out, to ‘protect’ her. She needn’t have bothered: she was more than useful enough to keep her in the field. Besides, you don’t go into hostile or unknown territory alone. That was a great way to end up in an unmarked grave. Either that or she was afraid for my safety. Probably the latter, now that I think about it.

 

I shared that concern, but it couldn’t be helped. It was either this or gun down the settlement and blow the cave up with baradium. I’ve done a lot on this assignment I’m not proud of, but I’m not murdering kids and families if I have any say in the matter.

“I was about to say the same thing about you and that boy,” I called back, nodding my head at the sandy haired kid, “he looks cute when he’s smouldering like that.” Said kid promptly bugged out, though he needn’t bother. I’m just teasing Mako: I’m not into anyone right now. Besides, if I were, it’d be with an older guy, who’s experienced and just as smart, rich and paranoid as I am.

“One, he’s underage and two, I’m not into younger guys,” she protested, matter of factly.

“but you don’t that deny he’s cute?” I queried, slipping through the doorway. Red exploded across Mako’s cheeks.

 

“What, no! I, oh shut up,” she sputtered as the door closed behind me, sealing me in the cavern. Chuckling as I imagined the awkward interaction between them, I started down, into the cavern. Either way, this wouldn’t take long.

 

 

 

Notes with BH Tatooine Spoilers

 

You know how it’s meant to be a race to catch up with Tyresius at the end of BH tatooine? It doesn’t feel like it. instead, it's more a "Tyresius has escaped, go here but feel free to do every side mission between here and there: you've got the time". I know it's gameplay and story segregation, but it feels odd, especially since they do the race to catch a crook trying to flee in his starship so well on smuggler Alderaan.

 

Why can’t we have something similar, where Tyresius steals the regulator to throw the hunter off the trail and doubles back to the spaceport? It’s not as if the BH ordered the ship locked down, or that the spaceport would obey them anyway. Lokai legally bought the ship, and the other hunter Corpsey McRodian probably paid all the landing fees, so there’s no real reason why the spaceport would arbitrarily impound it.

 

We get a chase because Not-Ventress (really, a bloodthirsty Rattataki voiced by Nika Futterman? What next, a bad@55 space marine voiced by Jennifer Hale?) has trackers in all her speeders (convenient… why?). The BH takes another speeder and races there, just in time to see Tyresius’ ship start to take off. Since we can’t have a class mission without a fight, throw in some droid defenders, bluffed goons or maybe Imperial officers, since the Hunter is technically attempting to kidnap someone ostensibly under their protection.

 

While the hunter slaughters corpse du jeur, Mako slices into spaceport control and shuts the hanger doors, locking Tyresius in. He rams them, escaping the hunter but badly damaging his ship in the process (making it unable to leave atmosphere safely and leaking fluid coolant). Then, the BH gets to track the contrail to Tyresius’ old ship, where he’s desperately trying to fix it with parts cannibalised from the new wreck. Spaceport control might also want to interrogate the BH regarding the slicing and property damage (remember Tyresius isn’t wanted by the Imperials or they’d have grabbed him in Mos Illa), but a persuasive BH might get them to rescind the charges or even get a bounty on Tyresius from them as well. (Can’t have alien degenerates damaging imperial property after all)

 

This setup would give us time, showcase just how slippery and desperate Tyresius is at this point, and that the hunter can’t just bluster his way through everything like the Sith and agent can. Unlike every other class in the game, the Bounty Hunter is generally regarded as scum by their faction because they are a free agent, and possibly for other things. Actually, this might be my head-canon.

 

 

Edited April 6, 2015 by Feldraeth

[Striges]

Many apologies for lack of commentary. I'll catch up shortly.

 

For now, more April silliness!

 

Week of April 10, 2015

Mistaken Identity: A classic literary device employed in drama and comedy alike. Has your character ever been mistaken for someone else? Have they made an error about another’s identity? What happened? Did hilarity ensue, or was it a more serious situation?

 

And, as ever,

 

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

 

This week's featured NotLP:

Mysteries - There's a lot out there we don't know. There's a lot out there some of us do know and some of us don't. Our characters are faced with many mysteries, some perhaps explainable by science or the Force or another sentient's mind, some not. What mysteries have your characters come across? Are they comfortable with not knowing or do they insist on uncovering the truth? Prompt courtesy of @frauzet.

[Striges]

Many apologies for such late commentary.

 

 

 

@alaurin: Vyenne is striking (saw her pic on Tumblr) and I like how she’s not ashamed of her heritage. Far from it. I also like that you had her clearly embracing Dark Side motivations; I half expected her to be lightside and was surprised. She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with unless she lets her ambition control her.

 

@Feldraeth: “Protector Twins:” neat idea and a great name. If anyone could take advantage of her status as (officially) a young girl, it’s Zash. It sounds like she already is.

 

Of all the classes, the Bounty Hunter doing the planetary quests as side jobs makes the most sense. I can totally see Mako lining them up both to get in better with the Empire and earn some cash. As far as the quest flow in-game goes, though, I presume it’s to match the planetary quest locations, otherwise you end up with Imperial Taris. As a player I’d be annoyed if I had to come back to Mos Illa after wandering halfway across Tatooine, then go right back out to finish. Tatooine travel was awful before you bought a speeder.

 

@Mirdthestrill: Eyrie obviously spent all this time being afraid of her parents’ transgression. Assuming everyone else judged her for it. Leave it to Orgus to tell her exactly what she needed to hear. Not as a lie to make her feel better, but the truth as he sees it. Experienced it.

 

As for the trial--so Sithy! I don’t for a moment believe the finalists were matched for injuries or anything at all other than emotional connections. Assuming anyone else even had a similar trial. The instructors must have noticed Kiarn and Meiko’s friendship. The last test was all about seeing who grasped the situation first and who was the most ruthless. Who was Sith.

 

[alaurin]

Caught up on my reading and I have some commentary in a timely fashon for once! I'll update the Index later.

 

Comments/Replies:

 

@Mirdthestrill: Glad you like Vyenne’s intro and I may delve more into her story as inspiration strikes. A couple of ideas are in the far recesses of my brain, but I’ve been trying to focus on my story threads these past few days since they sorely needed updating.

 

RE: History-I like that Orgus spent some time working with his former Padawan even after she was proclaimed a Jedi. I’m glad he took the time to speak with her about her family history and reassure her that it didn’t matter….she was her own person.

 

RE: The Final trial-Owwww, that got me right in the feels. I can’t imagine what that was like for Kiarn but I think it will haunt her for the rest of her days.

 

 

@Feldraeth: I’m glad you enjoyed Vyenne and yes, I do have a story brewing for that particular part of the Korriban SW story given her family ties. I’ll admit, I do enjoy writing villains sometimes but it doesn’t come easy……guess I’m just too much of a sweetheart inside.

 

RE: A Lord’s Chambers-I like how you put the fairytale there in the beginning and the image of Zash trapped in the body of a little girl still amuses me. Interesting idea there at the end and a very plausible one.

 

RE: Ghost of the Desert-I have to agree with Striges comment that of anyone, the BH would have the biggest reason for taking on those planetary side missions……the need for credits to cover expenses. I’ll admit, I had to grin when I saw the Lady of Pain mentioned because for some strange reason, I really like her!

 

 

@Striges: I’m glad you like Vyenne and she definitely sees no shame in how she came about in the galaxy…….that was her father’s indiscretion, not hers. While she’s a fairly honorable sort for the most part, she’s highly motivated by her mission to gain enough power to destroy her oldest enemy…..a potential detriment if she’s not careful.

 

 

So I've been trying to focus on the half completed update for the Lauren girls' story thread these past couple of days, but I was grocery shopping this morning and when I went down the deodorant aisle, this terrible, awful idea popped into my head for this week’s prompt. Its just a short bit involving BH Katrynka Vleska and everyone’s favorite grumpy Cathar, but hopefully worth a read. I promise for those fans of Bella, Mallay, Lissa, and Ros, I will get back to work on that update shortly.

 

Title: False Advertising

Prompt: Mistaken Identity

Setting: Alderaan, soon after Desperation is a Stinky Cologne

Character: Katrynka Vleska-BH, Mako, Aric Jorgan

Spoilers: I’ll play it safe and say Trooper Alderaan

 

 

The Cathar made his way town the ornate stairs of the Organa Palace, admiring the backdrop of snow covered mountains and clear blue sky as he headed towards the merchant district to secure a couple of speeders for him and Elara.. He’d left the medic back at HQ so she could patch up a prisoner who was key to finding the traitor operating with the Thuls on Alderaan. He’d just began to walk down the main street where the shops were located, weaving his way through the shoppers when he spotted a familiar cream colored Cathar milling around up ahead. Her fur color wasn’t as common amongst her species and he immediately began scanning for the even rarer silvery minx that was her littermate. He was both relieved and disappointed when he didn’t see Tia anywhere, just the slip of a Human that was Kat’s partner. Luckily, both women were dressed plainly, Kat wearing figure hugging leatheris pants, boots, and a stylish jacket instead of her usual mercenary plating. Her flamethrower tank was absent and she sported only a single blaster holstered on her hip, but Aric was willing to bet his brand new assault cannon that she was armed to the teeth under that jacket.

 

Having already become acquainted with many of the Organa Palace’s inhabitants, including one Ava Zharkov who was a Cathar of the Shange clan, Aric was sure he knew why Kat was in what could be considered enemy territory for her due to her affiliations. He’d already spoken to Jonas and General Garza to warn them one of Tia’s enemies was on the planet, but if Kat killed her outright it’d be difficult to keep her from being arrested and they’d likely put her in front of a firing squad before her true identity could be proven. Despite the fact she annoyed him, he had respect for the young woman who’d lost so much and he couldn’t let any harm come to her……especially considering the feelings rapidly developing for her littermate and his squad mate once she was extracted from her undercover assignment. With a sigh of frustration, he picked up his pace.

 

“I know what you’re up to,” Aric growled softly as he caught up to his quarry, “and it’s not going to happen.”

 

“You sure about that?” Kat challenged.

 

“Positive,” Aric insisted.

 

“Oh do tell Captain Crankypants,” Kat smirked, her honey eyes sparkling with amusement at Havoc’s grouchy CO.

 

Aric stepped closer, “Easy……I just slap a pair of cuffs on you and hand you over to Organa security. I’m sure you’ll find a way to escape eventually, but your target will be safe then.”

 

“I don’t think so,” Kat countered, clearly enjoying herself, “because I haven’t done anything to warrant you arresting me.”

 

The scowl that Aric directed at the hunter supported her claim, “That may be true, but I have enough suspicion to tail you until you leave the palace grounds.”

 

“You do,” Kat conceded, her eyes darting over to the fancy shop displaying ladies clothing they stopped in front of, “but I’m pretty sure I can ditch you.”

 

“I’m not afraid to go in there…..if anything it’ll make you stand out even more,” Aric chuckled, a smug look on his tawny face as that smirk was wiped off Kat’s.

 

“Kark,”she swore under her breath, knowing he was right and hating it.

 

“He has a point,” Mako sighed.

 

“Thank you Mako,” Aric smiled at the slicer, “Now why don’t you ladies run along before you get into trouble that I won’t be able to get you out of.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kat growled her annoyance as she looked around her…..then those full lips curved in a wicked smile when she spotted a group of teenage girls, both noble and common, hanging out at the café next to the clothing store and an idea began to rapidly take shape in her crafty mind.

 

“Then I have no choice but to stick to your stubborn hide,” Aric told her, not completely trusting the look on her face.

 

“Nah…..you’re going to be too busy,” Kat grinned then turned to her partner, “Hey Mako, remember that commercial we were watching this morning?”

 

“Which one?”

 

“That one for the body spray.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Mako giggled as her doe eyes studied Aric for a moment before she touched the cybernetic that curved around her eye, “I’m on it.”

 

“Awesome,” Kat laughed as she turned to her would be escort, “My dear Captain…….have you ever seen the commercials for Rogue body spray?”

 

“No,” Aric grimaced, his nose wrinkling in disgust, “that stuff could choke a bantha and it smells awful.”

 

“Yeah I don’t like it much either,” Kat admitted, “Too strong for our species’ sense of smell I think. However, they do have some of the sexiest ads with a couple of really hot bodied guys and I gotta tell you……one of their models is a dead ringer for you.”

 

“It’s uncanny,” Mako nodded, “He doesn’t sound like you and his eyes are a darker green, but boy……it’s like you have a twin.”

 

“You wouldn’t….” Aric’s eyes narrowed as he started to catch on.

 

“I would,” Kat shot back, “and Mako did over her HoloNet connection.”

 

“What did you do?!” Aric’s bright green eyes widened as he frantically searched for his helmet, cursing when he remembered leaving it back at Organa HQ.

 

Mako shrugged, “I mighta let it slip that one of the Rogue guys was here dressed as a Republic trooper for their new advertising campaign.”

 

“We’re kinda in a hurry though, so I’m gonna speed things up a bit,” Kat decided and before the threat could completely register with Aric, she gave a high pitched squeal, “OH MY STARS! ITS ONE OF THE ROGUE MODELS!" Then she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly as she let out another squeal, "OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!”

 

Mako took the cue and began jumping up and down excitedly as she touched Aric’s arm, letting out a giddy shriek, “OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD! IT’S REALLY HIM!!”

 

Aric began to back away, feeling a twinge of panic as Kat and Mako’s shenanigans drew the attention of the nearby gaggle of teenage girls. He knew he was in deep trouble when one of them pointed straight at him as she shouted out, “LOOK…..OVER THERE…….IT’S THE GUY FROM THE ROGUE BODY SPRAY ADS!”

 

“Help me,” he whispered desperately as the eager young ladies began to flock around him, his green eyes pleading as they locked with Kat’s amber ones.

 

“Sorry Captain…..I got places to go……people to see,” Kat laughed as she slunk away from him, “But you have fun with your admirers.”

 

“I’m going to get a Holo of this,” Mako offered as she dug out her camera, “Your sister will love it.”

 

“Good thinking Mako,” Kat replied, stepping aside as two more excited ladies' maids ran past them.

 

“I swear I’m not who you think I am,” Aric protested as one of the bolder noble ladies leaned up to kiss his cheek and another got a little handsy behind him, all the while watching helplessly while Mako snapped a picture and both women walked away, unable to follow as even more women showed up.

 

 

 

Author’s Note: (Trooper spoilers)

 

*For those new to my stories, Kat’s littermate Tiannya (Tia) is a different take on the trooper story…..she chose to go with Tavus at the end of Ord Mantell in order to take down the Havoc traitors from the inside. As a result, Aric Jorgan was made CO of Havoc and Tia will be under his command once she’s extracted.

 

*Yes…..Rogue Body Spray is my made up version of Axe. No offense to anyone who uses/likes Axe products, but when that stuff first came out I was teaching 8th graders who had yet to understand the concept that a little goes a long way and that stuff is really strong! There were days my eyes would water after my students had PE. I will admit that they do have some fine looking male models for their commercials though…..

 

Edited April 14, 2015 by alaurin

[Striges]

@Alaurin: I know some adults who still haven't figured out "a little goes a long way". And the prank was marvelous (speaking of Top Gear, I have a vague memory of Clarkson playing a similar prank with a twitter message). It does beg the question of what other species think of all the various perfumes and fragrances. Might need to make that a prompt.

 

Still giggling at the thought of Captain Crankypanys mobbed by overfriendly teens.

[Mirdthestrill]

@Feldraeth- Glad you liked my stuff Made my day today.

 

Comments:

 

 

@Feldraeth- RE: A Lord's Chambers- That was... unexpectedly cute. I still find the idea of Zash being moved into a kid's body interesting and wonder what will happen to her. Also, I think you do an interesting job mixing her grown-up and child-like aspects. Looks like she's trying to worm her way into your character's heart and do devious things with it.

 

RE: Fistful of Contracts- Saving this for when I've gotten far enough in my bounty hunter replay

 

@Alaurin- I'm not as familiar with this legacy, but that's OK! Better way to get rid of interested parties than a lot of stuff I could think of. Heck, I'm sure Ketturah wouldn't have been able to come up with that. Somehow, I have a feeling that that picture Mako took will reappear someday when he really doesn't want it to... And as a woman that does like a little scent on a man, I still agree that a little goes a long way. YOU ONLY NEED LIKE ONE SQUIRT, PEOPLE! And yes, that goes for girls with those body spray things, too.

 

 

The inspiration is not flowing right now, so have a few plotless drabbles about random stuff that came to mind when I saw prompts!

 

Title: Nostalgia

Prompt: Good/Bad Memories

Characters: Mallena Dayne (trooper), Ketturah Atridies (Bounty Hunter)

Length: 500 words

Spoilers: References to Trooper Coruscant

 

Index under Mallena, after Road to Coruscant and before Hammershot

 

 

Mallena sat on the stairs outside Courscant District 323 Public Primary School #8. She had come here for all three of the years they’d lived on Coruscant, but she hadn’t been back since they’d moved. But today, Sgt. Jorgan was busy running some errands and she’d decided to take a look.

 

The school was pretty much what she’d remembered- a plain institution with a set of decorative pillars added to the front to make it look a little better. School was in session right now, so she couldn’t go inside, but she didn’t feel much need to. It was the people that interested her more. What had happened to everyone she’d known back then?

 

She knew a few stories. Her mother had remained friends with Cortata’s, so she knew the other girl was studying history at one of the planet’s many universities. Dil had found her on the holonet a few years back, and last she’d heard from him, he was still trying to get his band off the ground and talking about marrying his girlfriend.

 

But most of the people she’d known had vanished into the galaxy. Mallena wished her fourteen-year-old-self had been a better communicator. Probably a few of them still lived around here, or their parents did, and she could have stopped in to say hello.

 

A young couple walked past with a hoverstroller. Dil’s mother had been pregnant when they left, she remembered. She should ask him about his sister next time they talked.

 

She stood up with a small sigh. There was one person who she’d probably never see again, she knew. After Ketturah’s goodbye message, Mallena hadn’t heard anything from her again. None of her own messages had got a response, and her holonet searches had been fruitless. She had apparently disappeared from the galaxy. At least she hadn’t been arrested.

 

They had actually met very near this spot, she realized. She had only moved there a month or two before, and hadn’t really made any friends yet. As she was walking home- their house had only been a few blocks away- the younger girl had started walking along with her. Mallena never figured out exactly why, as she found out later that she lived in the opposite direction. Still they had started talking, and by the time they got home, had become firm friends. Things were a lot simpler then, she thought. Then, you knew who your enemies were, and if she needed help, her parents would back her up.

 

But there was no point in moping, she realized. While she was here, she might as well get a milkshake from the diner they had gone to sometimes on Saturday afternoons. Maybe when she got back, she’d try looking up some of her old friends. She might even try Ketturah’s name again.

 

 

 

 

Title: Girl's Night In

Prompt: Xenobiology

Characters: Feyte Saien (Jedi Consular), Eyrie Lancaster (Jedi Knight), Jessasi Silver (Smuggler), Mallena Dayne (Trooper)

Length: 800 words

Spoilers: None

 

Index on any character you feel like, but it goes after the conclusion of the class story in any case. Sorry, hope that helps

 

 

“Really?” giggled Jessasi. “What did he do?”

 

Mallena’s face took on a mischievous expression. “He was so shocked, he forgot his own name and almost sat down on the end table.”

 

The assembled women laughed as the major finished telling the story of the day her oldest brother had decided to ask the most popular girl in his class to a dance, only to find that she asked him first.

 

Feyte stretched luxuriously on the mound of pillows she had thrown on the floor. “Is anyone hungry?”

 

“Nothing for me,” Eyrie said. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her normal sleepwear of boy shorts and sports bra covered with a dark brown robe.

 

“Are you sure?” Feyte frowned.

 

“Yes, I’m still full from dinner.”

 

“Alright. Anyone else?”

 

“I’m starving!” responded Jess, fiddling with the strings on her sweatshirt. “I’d love some puffcorn.”

 

The Mirialan’s face fell. “I don’t have any.”

 

“No puffcorn? What kind of slumber party is this?”

 

“Mirialan’s can’t eat most human grains, and since no-one else who live here particularly cares one way or the other, I stopped buying it. I can run out and get some if you want.”

 

Jess waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat grain.”

 

“Most grain. There’s a few I can have, they’re just harder to find.”

 

“Weird…”

 

“So it’s kind of like an allergy, then?” said Mallena.

 

“A bit. The same things happen if we do get some by mistake, I can tell you that much.” She made a face.

 

“What else don’t I know about Mirialans?” said Mallena.

 

Feyte returned to her pillows and squirmed back into a comfortable position. “Well, I know there’s a couple vitamins we need in our diet that humans don’t. Usually I just take a supplement to make up for them when I’m eating a human diet. We also see a slightly different spectrum, just a little higher into the ultraviolet and a little less of the infrared.”

 

“Huh. That’s weird. But kind of cool.”

 

“What about you?” said Jess. “What’s it like not having lekku?”

 

“I… guess I never really thought about it. I just don’t have them.”

 

“But, like how do you communicate? How do you function without the extra brain space?”

 

“I guess we just… do?” Mallena ran her fingers through her hair. “Maybe we’re really missing out. I’ve never had any, so I wouldn’t know. But I have a question for you: do you really use them for sex?”

 

“Of course! It’s like having bo0bs, except cooler. This one guy I knew-” She saw Eyrie make a face. “TMI?”

 

“A bit, yes.”

 

“I’ll stop if you let me ask you a question.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“What does it look like under your mask? I’ve never seen you without it.”

 

Eyrie reached up and pulled off the carved plate of bone she used to cover the upper part of her face, setting it on the caf table. The skin under it was smooth apart from the place where the claw-mark scars on the left side crossed that area, a few shades paler than the rest of her face, with slight dents over her empty eye sockets.

 

“Huh. I figured it would be more mystical-looking. Weird tattooed symbols or something. But you can see just fine?”

 

“It’s not what you would call seeing. We sense the presence of objects and other beings in the Force and form them into an awareness of the world around us. But for example, the best way I could describe you right now would be an amorphous ball of glowing gold liquid, while Feyte feels like the noise wind chimes make.”

 

“So we appear as other stuff?” Mallena looked curiously at her.

 

“Not really… I’m not describing it very well. If you’ve felt the Force, it makes a lot more sense.”

 

“I was wondering about that, too. What’s it like to be able to do that?”

 

“It’s like trying to explain music to a creature without ears. It just kind of is.”

 

Feyte leaned forward. “I guess it is like music, though. Every song has a unique melody, right? But it uses the same notes, chords, keys, that sort of thing? People’s Force-sense is like that. Species, age, gender, they all contribute, sort of like chords. You can see them the same from person to person. But they’re all still different. And the way they feel can change a bit with their mood, but you still recognize it, like changing keys.”

 

“Wow,” said Mallena. “That makes perfect sense, actually.”

 

“That’s right, you play, don’t you? I probably misused some of the terms.”

 

“You got them right, don’t worry.”

 

The party lapsed into silence for a few minutes, then Jess sat up. “Did you say something about a snack, Feyte?”

 

“Oh, right. I’ll go grab one. Want to pick out a movie for when I get back?”

 

 

 

Note:

 

Most of this is fannon, stuff I just made up that the cannon doesn't cover or isn't very specific on. I figured that most near-human species probably have some differences besides skin colors that make them alien, so I made a few up.

 

Mallena's music is mentioned here.