#BlasTech Industries

[sw5w]

Battle Droid Hit

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:49:52

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #Naboo #Great Grass Plains #Battle of Naboo #Battle of the Great Grass Plains #E-5 blaster rifle #unidentified battle droid #B1 infantry battle droid #energy goo #ionically charged #MTT #Multi-Troop Transport #BlasTech Industries #Baktoid Armor Workshop #booma #energy ball #Gungan energy shield #continuous fire trigger #high-torque motors

[hegodamask]

Oh hey. Can we talk about Dedra Meero’s blaster for a second?

I’ve always been very curious about it because it doesn’t look very... Imperial.

I’m not a Star Wars weapons expert so correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks awfully like a DL-44 heavy blaster pistol.  

 According to Wookieepedia, the DL-44 was manufactured by BlasTech Industries, who did make weapons for the Empire. However, to Star Wars fans, the model is famously associated with Han Solo

The Legends section of its Wookieepedia article also has this to say:

Originally designed by BlasTech and seen as early as 33 BBY, the weapon found increased use at the hands of outlaws and fringers on the edge of legality, groups like smugglers and the Rebel Alliance due to its capability to penetrate stormtrooper armor. This caused the Empire to put a restriction order upon this model, restricting and technically outlawing the purchase and ownership of the gun.

So my question is: what is Dedra Meero, an ISB supervisor, doing with a blaster that can penetrate stormtrooper armour and is (in Legends at least) associated with galactic outlaws? Even if it is Imperial issue in-universe, my first thought when I noticed it was “Oh, that’s a Han Solo/Rebel weapon.” 

Idk, maybe the Andor crew just wanted an excuse to make a Han Solo blaster. But on the other hand, this show is so meticulous in its attention to detail. Every costume and prop has a meaning, and the quality of the writing encourages you to pay attention to it. 

I personally think the blaster is a hint to Dedra’s past. Something from her pre-ISB life she’s held on to because it’s more reliable, or perhaps even has some sentimental value for her. 

So my second question is: who the hell is Dedra Meero and where did she come from?

#Star Wars #Andor #Dedra Meero #the galactic empire #the isb #DL-44 heavy blaster pistol #i don't think this implies dedra is a rebel by any means #but it is a weapon associated with the rougher more lawless corners of the galaxy #combine that with what denise gough has hinted about dedra's past....inch-resting #anyways please share ur thots #like i said i'm not a weapons expert

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hey I saw you were excited about the Orson Krennic ask and I wanted to maybe ask if you could possibly do a one shot with female reader with the quote ‘if you’re going to break my heart, at least make me feel it’. Hope that’s okay?

A/n: anon I am so sorry this took me so long!!! life has been hellish lately, but c'est la vie. anywhooo, this request gave me life again, i needed a oneshot to re-energize my writing. i hope you love it! thx for your patience and for the chance to write for you <3

Orson Krennic X Fem!Reader (no physical descriptors used, could be GN) Word count: 2084 Warnings: heavy angst (something of a specialty of mine), hints to sex, not proofread

“Orson. Tell me this isn’t true.” 

You could barely breathe. The words snagged in your throat like barbed wire as you stared down at the blaster in your hand. Not just any blaster. You’d know the sleek design of this model anywhere: the BlasTech Industries Relby-k23 blaster. Imperial grade. Standard issue Imperial officer sidearm. 

You could practically hear Orson’s chest cave in on itself from across the room where he stood, frozen on the doorway to the bathroom. He’d never meant for you to find it, that had been apparent in the way he’d carefully wrapped it in a towel and wedged it into the empty space beneath a floorboard under his bed. If only he hadn’t knocked one of your earrings out in his haste to undress you a few minutes ago… if that earring hadn’t found its way into the small crevice between the loose floorboard and its neighbor… if you weren’t so damn nosey and observant, maybe he would have gotten away with it. 

But the evidence couldn’t be ignored now. Orson Krennic was part of the Galactic Empire. An officer, apparently. You’d noticed he’d been distant, even more than usual for him, the last few times the two of you had met for your harried love-making, although you’d never suspected this. Your relationship had been a constellation of short tristes, two or three days of bliss that always slipped by too quickly with weeks or months of empty longing between them. It had been that way as long as you could remember. Orson’s education at the elite scientific college on his home planet of Lexrul had been demanding and left little time for personal pursuits. You weren’t exactly waiting for him, gathering moss underfoot either. While Orson had been collecting accolades for his work on kyber crystallography, you’d been busy taking over your family’s lucrative smuggling business. 

Neither your family nor Orson’s would have ever approved of your relationship, so you’d kept it secret for years, a decade at this point. The universe had changed around you, shaped by the ruthless influence of the Galactic Empire. Things had gotten bleaker, the future darker. Everything in your life was overshadowed by loss and fear, even more so after the Empire had destroyed your home planet and your family along with it. You’d found yourself clinging to Orson in recent years. He was the one thing in your life that still felt true, soft, safe. Your time together, however fleeting, had felt like an oasis of love and freedom amidst the raging storm. You’d always believed that what you two had would be an untouchable slice of joy in the universe. Now, that joy turned to ash in your mouth. You’d been naive, foolish, and ignorant to think that the two pf you would get out of these times unscathed.

When you looked up at him, ice in your eyes, you knew everything was different now.

“Y/n, please, let me explain,” he pleaded, taking a hesitant step towards you. The naked desperation in his eyes threatened to split your chest in two. Instinctively, you recoiled away from him. Not from him - you could never hate Orson - but from the Empire, from the suffocating clutches of the totalitarian regime that had annihilated your planet and killed your parents. 

“Tell me this isn’t true,” you repeated bitterly. Tears were clawing at the corners of your eyes. 

Orson’s devastating blue eyes flickered from the blaster in your hands to your face. He’d known this could happen. Part of him hoped it would happen. He needed you to know that he wasn’t the man you’d always thought he was. He didn’t deserve the way your eyes would sparkle at him, the way your mouth would quirk up into a shy smile every time he was near. That man - the one he’d allowed himself to believe he could be, one day - was a mirage. The sooner you realized that, the better. 

He ran a hand through his hair and down his face, still flushed from his climax a few moments ago. Taking a shaky breath in, he sat down on the edge of the bed, turning his back to you and letting his head slump on his shoulders, elbows perched on his knees. You recognized the weight of worries on Orson’s shoulders. You felt your heart twist at the sight, yearning to reach out for him, to wrap him in your arms and smooth his hair back from his forehead. You could practically hear the way he’d moan appreciatively at your touch, could feel the pleasant heaviness of his body against your chest. You swatted angrily at the impulses and memories as you waited for him to speak.

“It’s true,” he finally admitted. His voice was heavy with defeat. The silence around you was deafening. 

“How long?” Your voice cracked on the question. 

“Y/n, it doesn’t matter,” he replied quickly, shaking his head. “It stopped mattering the second I agreed to their terms.” 

You perched on the edge of the bed at the opposite corner from him. Your heart fought furiously against your mind as you took in his profile, lines of pain etched into his handsome face. God damn it, he was beautiful. 

“Terms?” you asked a bit too hopefully. Maybe they forced him, you reasoned. Maybe it really isn’t his fault. 

As if reading your thoughts, Orson scoffed. “They didn’t force me, if that’s what you’re hoping,” he seethed. “They offered me power, and I took it.” He delivered the last statement with such self-hatred that you felt yourself recoil away from the heat of his anger. You knew this part of Orson well, the self-loathing part that saw his insecurities and fear of inferiority but was powerless to stop them. He buried it beneath his achievements, beneath his incessant drive to do better, to be better, to achieve bigger and bigger. But it lurked there, deep in his heart, festering like a wound. Even in your ten years together, he’d rarely shared that dark corner of himself with you, although you knew he’d shown you more of him than anyone else in the galaxy. You knew that terrible, bone-deep fear of not being enough came from his father, a cold and ruthless man who had sharpened his tongue on his son. You also knew that Orson was his most dangerous when that fear got activated. And it seemed the Empire had learned that too, and used it to their advantage. 

Knowing him as deeply as you did and seeing him laid bare like this gutted you. Your anger crumpled like a sail without wind. Slowly, you walked around the bed, coming to stand in front of him. He didn’t lift his head to meet your eyes, couldn’t bear to, so you just cradled his head against your chest. At first, he was stiff with shock. After a few moments, his breathing became ragged as sobs started to tear loose from his chest. His hands came to your waist, pulling you towards him with desperate intensity as if he were about to disintegrate and you were the only anchor holding him to the moment. The two of you stayed like that for what felt like hours, clinging to each other while what you held between you fell apart.

You loved this man. You always had. You’d loved him since you first met him, and in that moment you realized that you would love him with every remaining beat of your heart. But you couldn’t accept his choice. 

Orson knew it. He’d known it the moment he’d been approached by the Empire. Even though you operated at the edges of the law, your principles and morals were too grounded to keep your heart open to an instrument of the Empire. He’d been content to bargain with fate for as many moments with you as he could steal before you saw him for who he really was. A weak man governed by his inferiorities and, in the end, willing to sell his soul for a taste of greatness. Even if it came at the cost of you, his one saving grace. 

As your tears and sobs began to slow and soften, you ran your fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair one last time before stepping back. He lifted his blue eyes up to meet yours, his gaze rife with anguish as he drank you in. You knew he was trying to memorize your face, because you were doing the same. You’d never see him again; you needed this memory to last.

He finally stood from the edge of the bed, throwing on the shirt that had been discarded in a corner of the room. He’d walk you out to the small transport ship you used to rendezvous with him. It was your tradition.

His fingers laced with yours out of habit as the two of you walked silently down the hall in the small dwelling he’d purchased on the isolated planet Cophrigin V. You bit back a new wave of tears as countless memories of your time here with him threatened to sweep you off your feet. 

When you finally came to the door of your ship, you turned back to him, running your empty hand up his forearm and coming to rest on his shoulder. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, trying to shoot him the coy smile you reserved for your goodbyes. That smile always made him squirm, and it had been the cause of delayed departures on more than a few occasions. But this time, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. It died on your lips when you saw the raw intensity in his eyes.

“Please forgive me,” he whispered tenderly. He ran a trembling thumb over your lips. Your voice cracked miserably when you spoke.

“I forgive you.” 

It was the last gift you could give him. A small piece of the absolution he’d never find. 

He cradled your head in his hands as he leaned into you. The kiss was bottomless and feverish, but short. Both of you knew that if you stayed like that for too long you’d lose yourselves in each other.

When you pulled back, you saw tears on his cheeks. 

“Damnit, Orson,” you scolded him in a tone that tried to be light. You swiped the tears away from his eyes. “If you’re going to break my heart, at least make me feel it.” 

He looked at you, confused momentarily, before he understood. It would be easier for you - and for him - if he played the villain. He’d made the villain’s choice, after all. It wasn’t fair to you to dance back from the edge now. It soothed the burning edges of his immeasurable guilt, but it was shattering your heart into splinters. 

He took in a deep breath, steadying himself, and let his hands drop from your face. You waited, every muscle in your body taut. His eyes glazed over in front of you, growing cold and desolate like a dying moon. You watched as he slipped away from you and slid on a mask. The mask of an Imperial officer. His voice was razor sharp when he finally mustered the strength to speak.

“My name is Orson Krennic, Director of Advanced Weapons Research. I serve at the pleasure of the Emperor.” 

You took an involuntary step back from him as if he’d slapped you. It was what you needed; seeing him that way had sent your mind reeling away from memories of being tangled hopelessly in his arms earlier that hour. Your pulse quickened and you felt adrenaline sizzle in your veins. 

Orson shot you one last glance before he turned his back to you. You watched as the last fragment of the man you loved turned to smoke in his eyes. He took two steps away from you, back towards the house, before he stopped and called over his shoulder. The words sent a frozen dagger of fear into your heart, cauterizing the wounds of grief.

“The next time I see you, I’ll kill you for the crime of smuggling against the Empire. Don’t let me see you again.”

You let yourself watch him disappear into the house that had once been your sanctuary before you turned and ran to your ship. 

“Don’t worry, Director Krennic,” you mumbled to yourself as you started up your ship’s engines. “I won’t.”

You left that planet, the man you’d always love, and never looked back.

#orson krennic #ben mendelsohn #star wars #orson krennic x you #orson krennic x reader #orson krennic x y/n #orson krennic imagine #star wars imagine #ben mendelsohn x you #ben mendelsohn x y/n #ben mendelsohn x reader #director krennic #idc hes a dilf #star wars daddy #death star daddy #rogue one #rogue one imagine

[csleko]

Prototype Blasters

"These heavy blaster pistols appear to be prototypes, but no information can be found concerning their manufacturer. While they resemble those of BlasTech Industries' popular 'Bryar' line, the company has indicated they have no records of this model in their databases. The prevailing theory is that these blasters were a smaller company's shelved attempt at producing a knockoff product."

"These may very well be the only two models of this blaster in the entire galaxy. Such rarity and the sense of mystery around their origins will make them a fine addition to any collection! Bidding for the pair will start at 500 credits!"

Another "today I learned how to do a very useful Blender thing" thing. The very useful Blender thing was how to do textures along hard edges without the need for vertex painting OR UV mapping. (One of which needs an ungodly amount of geometry and thus doesn't really work on less complex models, and one of which is tedious and sucks and makes me hate my entire life every time I can't work around having to do it.)

I started out looking at an E-11 (Stormtrooper rifle) for reference, but pretty quickly started making it into its own thing. Then I put those ridges along the top and realized I was basically just making a Bryar pistol, so I adjusted some things to push it a little further in that direction while writing some fanfiction in my head to explain the resemblance.

#3d model #star wars #blender #3d render #blaster #gun #weapon #laser #cycles #sci fi #animation #3dcg

[creativemechanics]

I still have Star Wars props updates from last weekend! May I present… the blaster tote! . I was having a problem transporting blasters and props to 501st events, so I modified this slim travel tote to sit atop my normal tote when on-the-go. . Features decals from Black Spire Outpost and BlasTech industries. (Who knew they actually had a logo?!) . . And keep your eyes peeled! I might be finishing my Death Trooper suit soon! . . #starwarsprops #starwarscrate #costumetote #cosplay #crate #diy #propmaking #propmaker @armorpartyshow #clonetrooper #mandalorian #badbatch #thebadbatch #starwarsart #starwarscosplay #clonetroopercosplay #edensandersart #creativemechanics https://www.instagram.com/p/CnhYQfLL1b8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#starwarsprops #starwarscrate #costumetote #cosplay #crate #diy #propmaking #propmaker #clonetrooper #mandalorian #badbatch #thebadbatch #starwarsart #starwarscosplay #clonetroopercosplay #edensandersart #creativemechanics

[kokiri-kid-07]

“Captain Nix: leading the Charge with Unparalleled Valor”

“BlasTech Industries DC-17: only for the most elite of trooper”

Yeah drawing my friend Natasha once again because she joked she would improve Morale as an arc trooper wearing her Slave Bikini and her DC-17 Blaster Pistol. I was happy to illustrate. twitter.com/Fenix_Natasha

#Natasha_Fenix #slave leia #slave #star wars #Star Wars DC-17 #blaster #cute #gift art #motivational #propaganda #my art #kokirikid07

[ellinapark]

Abrasive BlastingMarket to Observe Strong Growth to Generate Massive Revenue in Coming Years

Latest Report Available at Advance Market Analytics, “Abrasive Blasting Market” provides pin-point analysis for changing competitive dynamics and a forward looking perspective on different factors driving or restraining industry growth. The global Abrasive Blasting market focuses on encompassing major statistical evidence for the Abrasive Blasting industry as it offers our readers a value addition on guiding them in encountering the obstacles surrounding the market. A comprehensive addition of several factors such as global distribution, manufacturers, market size, and market factors that affect the global contributions are reported in the study. In addition the Abrasive Blasting study also shifts its attention with an in-depth competitive landscape, defined growth opportunities, market share coupled with product type and applications, key companies responsible for the production, and utilized strategies are also marked.Some key players in the global Abrasive Blasting market are:

Abrasives Inc. (United States)

AB Shot Tecnics (Spain)

ATI Black Diamond Granules Inc. (United States)

Blastech (India)

Crystal Mark Inc. (United States)

Airblast (the Netherlands)

Clemco Industries (United States)

Empire Abrasive Equipment (United States)

Graco (United States)

Sinto Group (Japan)

Abrasive blasting is used to remove heavy surface materials. It is generally used in the finishing process, preparation process, and modification process. Wet blasting is a precision finishing operation, which consist of air blasted slurry. The level of cleanliness obtained in abrasive blasting depends on the type of abrasive, the force with which the abrasive particles hit the surface, and the dwell time. Sand is the most widely used blasting abrasive. Another abrasive material such as coal slag, smelter slags, mineral abrasives, metallic abrasives, and synthetic abrasives.What's Trending in Market: Increasing Adoption of Silicon Carbide

Challenges:

Market Growth Drivers: Increase In Use of Abrasive Blast Machines in Domestic and Industrial Applications

Rising Technological Investments by Leading Players

Increased Use of Abrasive Blasting Media in Automotive Sector Is Expected To Change the Dynamics of Market in Near Future

The Global Abrasive Blasting Market segments and Market Data Break Down218

Presented By

AMA Research & Media LLP

[researchgmi]

Sandblasting Media Market share by application, 2021 & 2027

Based on these parameters, a recent research report has predicted that the global sandblasting media market size will surpass USD 14.8 billion in annual valuation by 2027.

In recent years, sandblasting has emerged as an extremely useful procedure across a broad range of applications and industries to tend to unwanted veneer and painted & greased surfaces. This technique eliminates the residue and restores the product to its original condition. It is also largely favoured in instances where the material needs to be deburred, cleaned, de-rusted, prepped for powder-coating, shot-peened or simply paint removed.

As sandblasting is employed for shaping, stripping, and smoothening the surfaces of materials, and revolves around smoothening, buffing, or roughing up the metal surfaces, media selection holds vital importance in the engineering of this blasting processes. Different types of media have varying degrees of shape, hardness, and density, and can be accessed in a vast range of particle sizes. The deployment of various equipment, like dedicated automated models, hand cabinets, and completely robotic systems are also driving the demand for sandblasting processes and their media.

Request for Sample Copy of this Report @ https://www.gminsights.com/request-sample/detail/514

Rising consumption of silicon carbide

Silicon carbide is marking immense popularity as sandblasting medium on account of its growing application in some of the most challenging surface finishing activities. It is highly preferred as it comes in various colours and purities and can be used in bonded abrasive tools, lapping, glass etching polishing, and heavy-duty blast cutting. The increasing usage of high-quality silicon carbide media which has sharp edges for blasting is also positively influencing the market expansion.

Considering its very fast cutting speed, silicon carbide is recycled and reused many times. Its high thermal stability and wear attributes make it a strong contender in refractories, bonded & coated abrasives, as well as precision surface finishing. The rapidly growing safety flooring sector and escalating export activities of silicon carbide are other prominent trends fostering the development of this business space.

Increasing penetration in the automotive sector

The continuously rising production and auto sales over the years has amplified the demand for sandblasting for effectively removing rust or paint on cars that have been rusted or need repainting. It has been estimated that the new vehicle sales in the U.S. hit around 15 million in 2021, showing a rise of over 3.4% from 2020.

Sandblasting of cars necessitates the special consideration of media as it is tricky to sandblast the body as it is made of thinner material and is prone to warp and damage. While steel is increasingly used as a blast medium for the underbody of a car, fine grit crushed glass and baking soda can be touted as effective media for all the parts of a car. The thriving need for constructively sandblasting the car windows in order to prevent the damages caused by pressure or impact will additionally favour the product penetration.

Driven by their greater usage in various end-user industries, several sandblasting media suppliers are coming up with innovations and inorganic marketing strategies to amass considerable revenue sales. The soaring requirement for removing corrosion and scale from steel surfaces whilst providing a low dust level for enhanced visibility are major factors contributing to the industry expansion. Polishing of soft metals, fibreglass, wood, plastic, gems and jewellery along with tumbling operations are other well-known applications of the product.

Request for customization @ https://www.gminsights.com/roc/514

Notable participants in the Sandblasting Media Market include: Abrasives Inc., ATI Black Diamond Granules Inc., Barton International, Blastech, Crystal Mark Inc., Cym Materiales S.A., Eisenwerk Würth GmbH, GMA Garnet, Harsco Metals & Minerals, Opta Minerals Inc., Prince Minerals LLC, The Chemours Company and U.S Minerals Inc, among others.

About Global Market Insights

Global Market Insights Inc., headquartered in Delaware, U.S., is a global market research and consulting service provider, offering syndicated and custom research reports along with growth consulting services. Our business intelligence and industry research reports offer clients with penetrative insights and actionable market data specially designed and presented to aid strategic decision making. These exhaustive reports are designed via a proprietary research methodology and are available for key industries such as chemicals, advanced materials, technology, renewable energy, and biotechnology.

Contact Us Arun Hegde Corporate Sales, USA Global Market Insights Inc. Phone: [phone] Toll-Free: 1-888-689-0688 Email: [email protected]

#Sandblasting Media Market #Sandblasting Media #Sandblasting Media Market size #Sandblasting Media Market share

[vjovhal]

Pretreatment coatings market is projected to grow at 5.1% CAGR through 2026. Aerospace sector is expected to register the highest CAGR of 5% during the study period.

#pre-treatment-coatings-market-global-industry-analysis-and-forecast-2026-blastech-crystal-mark-cym-matriales-s.a.-gma-garnet

[sw5w]

Battle Droids Turn in Formation

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:49:29

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #Naboo #Great Grass Plains #Battle of Naboo #Battle of the Great Grass Plains #unidentified battle droid #B1 infantry battle droid #MTT #Multi-Troop Transport #E-5 blaster rifle #Central Control Computer #Droid Control Ship #BlasTech Industries #Baktoid Armor Workshop

[sinisterexaggerator]

Figured out Shriv’s Arsenal AND his classification within the Rebel Alliance.

E-5C

The E-5C, also known as the E-5C heavy blaster rifle,[source?] was a model of blaster rifle.[1] The bounty hunter C-21 Highsinger used an E-5C during the Clone Wars.[3]Hondo Ohnaka's pirates also made use of this weapon, particularly Gwarm.[2] The Heavy Battle Droids employed by the Confederacy of Independent Systems were notorious for using these blasters to rain fire upon the clone troopers of the Galactic Republic.[4]

 BlasTech A295 Blaster Rifle 

The BlasTech A295 blaster rifle was the standard-issue rifle used by the Rebel Alliance at Echo Base. It was favored by marksmen for its high accuracy and effectiveness at range.[1]

And I believe this one is a DL-44XT with the scope removed! ( Note the black handle beneath his glove - it’s hard to tell, but it’s not his finger, it’s the grip. )

The DL-44 XT was an enhanced version of BlasTech Industries's DL-44 heavy blaster pistol. It was distinguished from other DL-44 models by the metals used in its construction.

Now for his Class!

The Insignia is the same one Shriv wears on his jacket.

He is a “Rebel Pathfinder” AKA a “Rebel Commando” - Elite soldiers of the Rebel Alliances Special Forces, which they were sent to planets such as Endor, Sullust, and Scarif.

Noted to take the Rebellion more seriously than most ground troops, some were “cocky and arrogant.” They were required to pass special training that consisted of learning the use of antique slug throwers, disarming proximity mines, and repelling off of ray shields. 

There was a VARIANT in the Rebel Pathfinders Sharp Shooter division known as Rebel Marksman, which HIS IS THE INSIGNIA the Marksman wears in Battlefront 2, as the regular “commando “ pathfinder has a different insignia?!?!  (pictured below)

ALSO, the fact he USES a A295 blaster rifle PROVES he is a Marksman.

He is also noted to be an “Officer” within the Special Forces I am assuming, and a Commander of Danger Squadron, which is a part of the Alliance Fleet, or the “Navy.” - WHEW. I am assuming he is both in the Navy AND the Army, which there seemed to be a lot of crossover anyway within the Alliance itself.

And since these Special Forces / Elite Officers/Commandos/Marksmen  were sent to planets such as Endor, Sullust, and Scarif, that makes me think Shriv could have been a part of the Twilight Company, AKA the 61st Mobile Infantry  because in game he mentions he was at the “Liberation of Sullust.” 

Twilight Company continued Operation Ringbreaker by capturing the Inyusu Tor mineral processing facility on Sullust. However, before they could be extracted, the Thunderstrike was shot down by a TIE fighter squadron, which . Being stranded on Sullust, Twilight Company set up defense on Inyusu Tor. Namir led mission down to the planet's capital city Pinyumb to find the Sullustan Resistance. Namir was able to meet with them and planned to holdout at Inyusu Tor and help the Sullustans in the city.

And there you fucking have it: I AM A NERD.

PS: It makes sense Shriv would be a Marksman... with his fucking IMPECCABLE / ENHANCED DUROS VISION. 

#Shriv #Shriv Suurgav #Rebel Alliance #Battlefront 2 #Star Wars #Alliance to Restore the Republic #Duros #Arsenal #Special Forces #Rebel Pathfinder #Rebel Commando #Rebel Marksmen #Danger Squad #I am a nerd and a perfectionist #prepare for a shriv fic one day soon

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight- Chapter Twenty-Four: A Lost History

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, 18+

Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Panic Attacks

Words: 7,156

Summary: “You have your secrets, I have mine. Difference is, I don’t pretend like mine don’t mean anything.”

Starlight Masterlist Here

Read Chapter Twenty-Three Here

Read on AO3 Here

Lumina doesn’t like blasters, specifically the pistol. They’re cold and impersonal. A disgrace to the art of battle, to the art of a kill. A blaster can be bought and sold off any old marketplace, a pistol can be hidden and brandished with as much shock as a bantha in the desert.

Blasters are disposable, replaceable. There is no distinguishing feature between one DH-17 to another. There is no connection between weapon and wielder. They’re cheap and easy, requiring no true skill for basic usage.

The very existence in the hands of one such as herself serves as a dishonor to her rightful weapon.

It then only serves with reason that blasters have become her most prized possessions. She is a constant contradiction to herself after all. The rifle locked in the armory of the Mandalorian, polished and restored to near mint condition. Former property of someone she would never know. A DC-17 pistol that could shoot clean through Storm Trooper armor.

When it had been placed in her hands for the first time, she thought of it with little regard. Fresh from the factory floors of BlasTech Industries, shiny and clean it was all she wished to be. Blackened iron was illustrious, glimmering in the fluorescent lighting of the Slave I. It wasn’t a heavy thing, but size forced her to aim with both hands.

“You keep that on you at all times, you understand?” Boba told her, green figure crouched to her level. “There are going to be times where you can’t take out your sword, and I won’t be there. This is your next line of defense. Treat it just as you do that saber, with respect and dignity. You clean it after every mission and you never let anyone take it from you. This blaster is part of you now. Understood?”

In thirteen years, not a moment in the day passes without her knowledge of its location. Typically, it’s strapped to her left thigh, dark leather holster a comfortable home opposite her saber. 

She doesn’t use it as much as she probably should. Most days it feels more like a tasteful decoration on her body than an actual tool. Still, it’s her favorite thing. And it’s all she has left of him.

There isn’t a space in the galaxy where she belongs. Not anymore, not really. She sits on a Nevarro rooftop, the edge of the galaxy just past the horizon of lava flats. Now in her hands she feels every dent in the pistol’s iron from every fall or improper usage as a projectile. It’s worn now, its shine is gone and matted.

She should have more of him. A shirt, a blade, his favorite cup for Caf. The Mandalorian has his armor, but it’s not hers. She can wear his vambraces as many times as she’d like, hug the dented green helmet and talk to it’s empty visor as often as she can.

It’s not the same.

She was never allowed to keep things for her own growing up. Not in school, not with Vader, not with Boba. Her wardrobe stayed small. Her arsenal of tools stayed small. Her rooms never held decoration or character.

Relena called her a hoarder the first time they’d met. Neri called her a collector. In her new room, shelves slowly became piled with anything she could grab from missions that held meaning. Pins, busts, artwork. Each on display with the care of a curator, cleaned and dusted by weekly routine.

Lumina’s livelihood is the manipulation of memories. She can search the depths of any mans mind for any information she wishes. With one touch she becomes privy to entire lives and dealings of history. Moments are never lost as they are condemned to live in the eternal memory of the Force. 

Or so she’s told.

It’s a load of shit.

The greatest shame of her life is how much of her own memory is lost. How much she will never know of herself. The best moments of her life were before cognition formed. When she was only a baby, clean of sin.

When she can only hope, that for the briefest time, her parents cared for her. That she would be regularly fed, bathed, held. That there was a time where her father, her real father, would call her by her real name and mean nothing but love behind each syllable. That, even if it were only for a day, a different person from Lumina existed in her body.

She’s terrified of forgetting, of losing more of herself than she already has. The haunted collection in Coruscant served as correction of personality. This is who she is. Who she always will be.

All she wants to know is who she was. Nothing she will ever be able to do will bring back those memories.

They do not exist.

They are a lost history she will never know.

“You’ve forgotten a lot too.” The child is across from her in meditative seating, clawed hands on his lap. “That’s okay. You’ve seen so much already, I’d black out all the bad if I could too.”

He’s allowed her to access his memory before, when consensual the act is painless. The same has continued now, as his ears twitch in the soft wind and he sneezes when he looks into the sun.

“I probably would’ve been sent to the Temple too if it were still around,” Lumina says. “Do you think we would have still met? You were such a big secret, I don’t think anyone would have trusted me.” The idea of it makes him giggle, jumping to her and blowing raspberries in her hold. “Yeah, that would be silly wouldn’t it? Then we’d both be Jedi together.”

The idea alone makes her nauseous.

“Boba Fett use to tell me to see the okay in everything. Not the good, there isn’t much good so it’s easy to miss, but some things are just okay. He was a clone, and there was a whole war where people who looked just like him had to fight. War is a bad thing, but… without it he would never exist. None of them would.”

She holsters her gun, touch lingering.

“The same thing can be said about what happened to the Temple. It was a bad thing, but if it never got destroyed, you would never be with your dad. So something okay came out of that too.”

Grogu curls into her chest, the softest sweetest sigh emitted.

“Someone told me once that one of my parents could have been a Jedi. But Jedi weren’t allowed to have children… I guess that means if it were still around I wouldn’t exist either.”

Her life is a paradox.

“So, at the end of the day both these things are just okay. They’ve done good and bad. It’s just a matter of perspective what you take from it.”

---

The afternoon sun of Nevarro blazes on their skin, warm and content together. Always one for an entrance, the Mandalorian casts a shadow on the pair. Large and overbearing, it’s comical how blinding he is.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey yourself. Is the ship done?”

“Just about. Karga says they’re doing final calibrations. Do you feel better?”

The moment they exited the tunnel system Lumina nearly fainted. Out of breath and shaky, her chest pained with relentless coughs.

She blamed it on the heat and asked to be alone.

“I guess,” she sighs. The shiver of cold still hasn’t left her. “About what happened down there—“

“Don’t worry about it.” He helps her stand, taking the child away. 

“But—“

“Lu, seriously. It’s fine. We don’t have time to worry about that right now.”

“But you didn’t feel fine. You got mad, and you haven’t been mad like that since—”

“Is that feeling thing you do another one of your… things or—“

“I think that’s just called knowing you, Din.” And unexplainable cosmic powers but, whatever. “Why won’t you talk about this?”

“It’s nothing important, Lumina,” he sighs. They climb down the building, hopping from peeking ledge to durasteel crate. He’s the first to land on the ground, staring up. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Mandalorian,” she says, sat with hanging legs. “Why is lying only okay when you do it?”

“That’s not—“

“That’s exactly what this is. I’m not stupid. If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but don’t tell me it doesn’t matter when it clearly does.”

“Lumina.“

“I’m not trying to fight,” she says, hands raised. “You have your secrets, I have mine. Difference is, I don’t pretend like mine don’t mean anything.”

Din steps between her legs, the top of the box just reaching his chest. “It doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you are, or where you come from. And that’s something you’ll never know. So there’s no point in worrying about it.”

Lumina looks at him with a hidden frown. “I see.” She jumps off, landing crouched on the ground, hands planted flat.

A rush of energy floods her senses, hot and heavy.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Din says. “Just, realistically.”

Her hands run over the solidified lava. “No, I know. I’m not offended.”

“What are you doing?”

“Is there a city nearby?”

“This is all there is for some miles. Outside of town it’s not much. Some homes, camp grounds, smaller towns. But nothing bigger than here.”

It’s so much worse than she imagined.

Lumina looks at Din with panicked eyes and a shaking head. “There’s something much bigger out there, and whatever it is, it isn’t good.”

---

“What the fuck is going on here?” Entering a smaller building, an office of sorts, Lumina beelines for Cara who sits in leisure.

“You are Mando’s type,” she snorts, feet propped on the desk. “It’s good to know you’re not dead.”

“I’m not fucking around—“

“Lumina,” Din says, pointed.

She sighs, muttering an apology. “What’s going on outside of town?” She clarifies.

“What are you talking about?” Cara asks through clear amusement. 

“There’s a high energy power source nearby,” Lumina says. “I’d say about ten miles south of this location. Do you know about this?”

Cara’s smile falls, meeting gaze with Karga across the room. “How do you know that?“

“So you do know?”

“Did you take her out of town?” Cara asks to Din.

He shakes his head, leaned against the desk of some Mythrol. “Lumina can feel energy.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “Don’t ask.”

“It’s not important,” Lumina adds. “What’s going on out there?”

“We actually wanted to talk to you about this when you landed,” Cara says to Din. “But we weren’t sure about the company you keep.”

“We still aren’t,” Karga says, stepping forward. “Thought you’d have more time on your hands while you’re here.”

“We only came for repairs,” Din says.

“And yet you’ve spent the whole morning disappeared with your partner.” Karga’s stare meets Cara, briefly faltering. “Listen, we could really use your help.”

“Help how?”

A global hologram flashes over Cara’s desk. “This is Nevarro,” she says. “We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone. Completely safe.” She points to a spec of red in the southern hemisphere. “But over on this side is the problem. If you felt anything this is it.”

“It’s an old Imperial base,” Karga says.

Din and Lumina share a look.

“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara adds. “This base has been here since the Imperial expansion. It's got a skeleton crew, but for some reason, it hasn't been abandoned.”

“There's a lot of heavy weaponry in that place your people would love to dismantle and get their hands on,” Karga says to Lumina

“My people?”

“You’re the black market type aren’t you? It’s no Corellia but—“

“Finish that sentence and Dune gets an unexpected promotion.“

“Don’t,” Mando grunts. He keeps a death grip on Lumina’s arm, her hand poised on the handle of her vibroblade. “He just wants to mop up the last of the Imperial force before they do.”

“Mando, I just want them off my planet. If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”

“And the planet would finally be free,” Cara says.

“Alright so what’s the plan?” Lumina asks.

Karga sighs, hardly sparing a glance. “We just need Mando.”

“You can stay behind with the kid,” Cara suggest, kinder. “We’ll be in and out in no time.”

“Out of the question,” Din argues. “She’s coming.”

“There’s no need to complicate things further,” Karga says. “Bringing in four is already too much.”

“Who’s the fourth?”

“Mythrol’s got the speeder,” Cara says. “And Karga’s right. This is a high risk job, we have to keep our numbers limited.”

“I don’t work without her.” Without an answer, Mando sighs, looking to her. “We’re leaving.”

They’re halfway out the door when Karga calls out to them. “Will you quit the dramatics? Your girl can come, Mando.” He points a finger to Lumina, eyes narrowed. “I’m keeping my eye on you though. I don’t want any funny business.”

“Relax grandpa.” Lumina spins her blaster around her finger, landing in its holster. “Taking down Imperial bases is my specialty. Like you said, it’s no Corellia, so this should be easy.”

---

“Controls are useless. They’re melted,” the Mandalorian says, posted near the lift. The Imperial base is stationed exactly where Lumina had suspected, and they all stand circling the entrance on the lava flats. Save for the Mythrol, who more or less cowers in the speeder.

“It wasn’t designed for lava,” Lumina says, running a hand over the buttons. “Even the wires are soldered together.”

“Imperial trash,” Cara spits. Lumina tries to not flinch.

“If we can get the panel off I can rewire the controls, it’ll only take a minute.”

“Alright,” the Mythrol chuckles, waving. “I’m headed back. Hit me up on the comm, we could set up a rendezvous time.” 

Karga’s quick to counter, finger pointed. “You park your gills right there until I say otherwise.”

“So he’s just a dick to everyone?” Lumina mutters to Din. Following his walk away, their argument becomes white noise. 

“Something like that. But you’re still getting the brunt of it.”

“Lucky me…”

“Don’t let it get to you. He only likes people he thinks are useful. He’ll come around. Probably.”

“At this rate I don’t know if I even want that,” she chuckles, squinting above. “I’m used to being the bad guy, remember?”

A platform which protrudes from the mountains hangar entrance catches her attention. Realistically it would only take one jump with the Force to get up there… but the current gathering presented a bit of an issue.

Turns out the Mandalorian is good for something after all. 

Lumina elbows Din’s side, nodding upwards at the landing bay. The unspoken message is clear by his short nod and hidden chuckle. Her arm hooks around his neck, his around her waist. His thigh, is slotted between hers.

“I’m sorry do you two need a moment?” Cara asks, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her tone. “We’re a little busy right now.”

“Hold tight,” Din grunts, tapping along his vambrace. Jetting to the platform they land audience scattered Storm Troopers. Beautifully unaware of their presence.

It doesn’t last long. At all.

In fact, their so called ignorance is so brief it’s more that they just hadn’t looked at the new company yet. The onslaught of plasma bullets their way is proof of this enough.

Her arm swings left, blaster shot nailing a Trooper right in the chest. “You know,” she sighs. Force sensitivity aside, she dodges shots with such impeccable ease it’s more laughable on their end than questionable on hers. “I’m starting to think part of my atonement is always ending back in these shitholes.”

“Maybe,” Din shrugs, shooting at some others. “You do have a knack for getting into these messes.”

“Me?” she laughs. “You’re the one always dragging me into all of this.”

“I’m not making you agree,” he counters.

The most she manages is an eye roll, strolling causally around the platform. It’s really almost a skip, checking bodies of the fallen. “So much for an empty base.”

“No doubt there’s more inside. Keep alert, okay?”

“Since when am I not alert?”

“I’m worried about them,” he scoffs, nodding down. “I’m not putting it past Karga to try and leave you behind, and the Mythrol is trouble enough. I can’t babysit all of you.”

“Oh he’s so funny.”

“Just behave.”

“Tell that to the old man, not me,” Lumina laughs, poking his chest. “Don’t worry. I won’t get in the way of your little mission.”

He grabs her hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re going exploring aren’t you?” he groans, already defeated from argument.

“You’re so cute when you worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Just… please keep—“

“Keep my comm on, I know,” she finishes. When their foreheads tap her nose scrunches. “I’ll clear the way for you.”

“Be safe,” Din sighs.

“I’ll be careful, but, you too.”

---

“I grew up surrounded by water. Just like you.”

Lumina never knew much about Kamino. For the longest time she suspected Boba never knew much either. It was destroyed before she was born and while he was still young; a fresh bounty hunter in the slums of Coruscant. He had spent less time on Kamino than she had on Arkanis after all, never returning after the death of his father.

So it had been a surprise when he brought the topic to conversation without her prompting.

“Oceans spanned as far as the eye could see. There was never a second without rain.” His helmet was sat in her lap, running her leather finger over its dent. “My father would leave for days on end for various jobs, and I would have nothing to do but wait for him to come back.”

The silence between them was stifled and awkward. Mustafar was within view, and she always shelled up when it was time to separate.

“What does he have you get up to when you’re not with me? I say you’re old enough to be out on your own now, no?”

“I still have to go out with KT,” she said. “He doesn’t trust me. Says I’m too young. But it’s the same. Find a Jedi, kill a Jedi.”

“Who’s KT?”

“My pilot.”

“What happened to Marie?”

“He killed her.”

Boba shuffled in his seat, throat clearing. “How are your studies? Are you keeping with your lessons?”

“They’re good,” she said with a shrug. “Boring, but I get full marks on all my exams.”

“Good. That’s good. Keep that up.”

“I will,” she promised.

She did.

On the landing platform of the foreboding palace, Boba turned to her one last time, taking his helmet away. “What else do you get up to?”

Back then, looking at him in that moment was the closest she got to crying.

“I wait for you to come back.”

A similar conversation struck two years later in the midst of war.

“You know, one day this’ll be yours,” Boba said to her.

Eighteen and prideful, she snorted, cleaning her blaster. “What, your Wookie pelts? I’ll pass. I can’t believe you still wear them, it’s disgusting.”

“I mean my ship.”

She froze, rag falling into her lap. “What?”

“Well, when I die—which won’t be for a long time, so don’t get your hopes up—this old girl will belong to you.”

“You’re serious?“

“Of course. This ship belonged to my father, now it belongs to me. You’re the obvious successor.”

“But I’m not a Fett.”

His helmet turned to her slow, naturally expressionless when it faced the stars again.

She would have questioned it, really she would have. By that age she had become bolder, completely unafraid of his presence.

But with few words he captures her attention on a different topic, leaving her scrambled to sit with her knees propped like she were a little girl again.

“Have I ever told you that on Kamino, all the clones were made in these containers filled with bacta…”

It only makes sense then, that now, as that very girl sits in an old Imperial base on Nevarro, she’s never been more certain on what she sees. 

Beings, or would be beings, pale, deformed and… floating, in liquid behind glass windows.

They’re clones. 

Or… some sort of genetically engineered thing.

Just… there.

Two scientists lay dead behind her, a quick knife throw to the neck ended the first one. A blaster in the head was the fate of the second.

Their memories are useless now.

Dammit. 

Building alarms erupt above, the slight shrill of its higher notes cause a twitch in her neck.

“Lu, the reactor’s set. Where are you?” Din asks through the comm in her ear.

Her fingers tap away at her vambrace, sending coordinates.

“Okay. We have about fifteen minutes, but we’re on our way. Don’t move.”

She may have forgotten how to do just that.

It doesn’t take long for the entourage to arrive. Lumina doesn’t move from her position, she knows the Mandalorian’s footsteps too well to confuse him with another.

“What the…” Karga murmurs.

“I thought you said this was a forward operating base,” Cara says.

“I thought it was.” 

“It’s a lab,” Lumina says, her longing stare broken to only meet Din.

“Can you hack into the system and figure out what’s going on?” Cara asks.

“I’m not a droid. Besides, I don’t have any tools to do a data capture.”

“Mythrol,” Cara says next. “Get into that computer and pull up what you can.” 

“What about the reactor?” the Mythrol whines.

“Do it!”

Offering his hand, Din helps her stand, thumb rubbing her palm. “I don’t like this,” he whispers, below his breath. “Do you know what these things are?”

“I have an idea on what it is,” she mumbles. “What’s it for is the real question.” Her head tilts, dropping his hand. “I think I can find out…”

In hindsight, she’ll realize the pull, the tormented screams plaguing her since landing on Nevarro came from these things. That the so called will of the Force has done nothing but cheat her time and time again. But that time has yet to pass, and will not for quite some time.

Her feet move beneath her before her mind fully agrees. At least no one is fully watching her, intents set on mocking the Mythrol and his panic. 

“Pardon me,” he says, pushing the dead Imperial’s off the console.

The moment her bare hand touches the glass, a rush of arctic chills overtake her body. Nothing is clear, flashes contain more negative space than context and are too quick to focus on. Labs, scientists, tubes… There’s no sense or reason, but the cold, the total agony in her muscles and bones render her immobile. Her gasps turn into screams and she falls unconscious not a second later.

---

She has to stop doing this, the fainting thing. It’s far less fun than anything else she’s experienced. Well, it comes second to electrocution on the ‘Not Fun’ scale. Third place goes to abandonment.

She’s dry heaving over Din’s lap, mask pulled under her chin. Maybe something would come up if she bothered to eat anything other than half a bowl of broth in the last twenty-four hours. He pats her back regardless, urging her quietly to let it out.

At least she’s not crying. Not yet anyways. When she’s back on the ship and locked in the refresher, is another story. Still, combined with yesterday’s near death experience it’s a miracle she’s able to think at all.

“What happened?” Din asks, voice hushed and laced with concern. He helps her to stand again. Her eyes scan the room, getting a sense of grounding.

“I—“

Her confession, or rather intricate lie she no doubt would have made up is interrupted. On the computer where the Mythrol stands, a blue hologram flashes small.

“…Replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure,” a man in a lab coat says. “There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we’ll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. With the results of coinciding trial runs on Ryndellia, unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him. If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. However, now with the knowledge of her life, the girl is also a permissible subject if attained. There is no data on her M-Count but, given the history we know, she would make a far suitable subject. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”

Maybe she will be sick, the bile circling her gut surely says so.

“This has to be an old transmission,” Cara says. “Gideon is dead.” 

Din’s holding Lumina to his chest. “Are you okay?” He whispers. She faintly nods, taking a breath trying to stand on her own. “He’s not dead,” he says to the larger crowd. “He fired an airstrike on us back on Daro.”

“How do you know it was him?”

“I spoke to him,” Lumina says. “We’ve actually had a few run ins in the past month. Daro was a mistake on both our ends.”

“This recording is three days old,” the Mythrol informs.

“It was sent before the attack,” Din says. “Lu, you said he wanted you—”

“I don’t think right now is the best—“

“Hold up,” Cara interrupts. “What does Gideon want with you?”

Nervous laughter is involuntary. “That’s a great question and—“

“I knew we couldn’t trust her,” Karga says. “I told you to keep your distance, and look where it’s gotten us. Now, you have an Imp giving another target to your back.”

If a ball was ever dropped, now is it.

Cara’s in her face as soon as the ‘p’ in Imp pops. It’s expected. Alderaanians are the sensitive type after all. Lumina suspects it’s an unfortunate side effect of their planets goodness infected in the water.

And, you know, their world being blown up.

“You’re fucking Imperial?” She sneers, finger pointed.

Usually she wouldn’t be so affected by it. Rebel anger was something she used to laugh at on a daily basis. But her head feels like it cracked open and she can’t stand without holding Din’s arm. She’s not used to showing weakness. But she does. And she panics.

“No—No, I—I was—“

Din pulls her closer, voice stern. “Will you both leave her alone?”

“What are you doing dating an Imp?” Cara asks, turned to him.

“She’s not—“

“How do you know she hasn’t been working for Gideon this whole time?” Karga asks.

“Because I know her—“

“How can we trust anything about her? How can you?”

The room is spinning, the room never stopped spinning actually, it’s only sped up. Everything is so loud and her heart pounds against her ribs, threatening to break free. The screaming doesn’t stop either, it just gets louder and louder until her ears ring.

As it stands, she’d rather be exploded ten times over in Daro than be subjected to this.

“Din… Din… Din, I don’t feel good…”

Is she speaking right now? Her mouth is moving, but there are no vibrations in her throat to indicate speech. Regardless, they’re all doing enough talking for the rest of her lifetime.

Imperial. Imperial. Imperial.

“Were you there?” Cara asks.

“W—what?”

“Were you there? Don’t act dumb, you know what I’m talking about. Were you there?”

“Cara leave her alone,” Din says, pushing her back. 

“All morning you couldn’t stop looking at my tattoo. You were there weren’t you? What, did you pull the trigger? Did you clap? Did you and your little friends celebrate while my planet got destroyed?”

“I—I didn’t—“

“Cara that’s enough—“

“And you! You’re fucking her! She stands for everything we all fought against, and you don’t care. You’re just as fucked up as she is.” She takes a step towards Lumina who backs with a gasp. Her hand presses against the glass, another shockwave of electrics bursting through her nerves. Only her knees give out this time, groaning.

“Lu,” Din rushes, quick to her side. “Lu, it’s okay. I got you,” he whispers. She shakes in his hold, jaw clenched with watering eyes.

It’s been so long since it’s hurt this bad…

“Just breathe okay? Don’t pay attention to them, it’s just me—“

“Give me a break,” Cara scoffs.

“Cara, shut the fuck up,” he snaps.

“You’re the one treating her like a fucking child. She deserves—“

In an instant, a blaster is shot three times, three separate falls following.

Three dead Storm Troopers. 

The whole group turns to the bullets origin, Lumina with a blaster extended over Din’s shoulder. “This place is going to blow soon,” she says impassive, swallowing a gag. “And personally I’d rather not explode again. I’m sure the Marshal would agree.”

“I agree,” the Mythrol says. “If anyone cares for my opinion…”

“I second that,” Karga says. “If you all want to settle this that’s fine, but not here.”

Lumina pushes herself away from Din, shaking out her limbs in her walk. She pulls out her knife and blade in each hand, taking a breath. 

A new group of Troopers run into the space. “They’re in here!” one calls out. She makes quick work of it. Faster than the others can manage to pull out blasters. It ends with her standing over their bodies, not a drop of sweat broken.

“Lu?” Din asks, a hesitant step in her direction.

“I’m fine,” she mutters.

“Okay… We have to get the kid.”

“You two jet back, you’re faster that way,” Cara says. “We’ll head to the speeder and meet you in town.” 

With a shared look, they take off running, out of sight in seconds.

“Why does she always get to go with him?” the Mythrol complains.

---

“On my word you have to drop me!” Lumina calls, clinging to Din as they soar above Nevarro.

Maker, she hates flying.

“Are you crazy?”

“Yeah a little, but that’s established. TIEs are going to go after your friends. You need to get to the ship, and I need to get Bug. It’s faster if you drop me over the school.”

“Lumina, you’ve fainted more than once today. I’m not dropping you.”

“I’ll be fine! Just fly low.”

“Lu—“

“Trust me!”

Even with wind screaming in her ear she can hear his sigh. “Fine.”

“Ready…” she preps. The town comes into view below, every building blurring past in flight. “Now! Now!”

In retrospect it’s not that bad of a fall. It certainly doesn’t hurt anymore than nearly being blown up, or electrocuted, or even touching whatever monstrosity was locked behind that glass.

She would even go as far as to call it a perfect landing, rolling onto her back and standing on the schools rooftop. But the raw adrenaline which drives her fades in and out. Unfortunately, it goes out when she stands, a dizzy walk to the edge and a clumsy drop onto the street.

“I’m okay,” she says through the comm.

“Good. Hurry,” Din urges.

Running into the school all the children and droids stop to look at her. She waves her hand. “You will all continue with your lesson.”

“We will all continue with our lesson,” the children say, turning back around.

Well that’s… horrifying.

The protocol droid either doesn’t care or is just as disturbed as she is, sparing no questions. “Alright class,” it says, continuing on.

Lumina rushes towards Grogu, pulling him out of his desk.“Seriously?” She asks, grabbing a roll of cookies, no doubt stolen. “Lecture later, we need to go Bug.” Sheepishly, she waves to the droid. “Uh, thank you, sorry for that.”

Outside, Lumina jumps to the top of the building, sprinting across rooftops to avoid civilians. The child laughs the whole time, blissfully ignorant. Razor Crest in sight, she leaps to the ground. Without broken stride, another jump takes her onto the rising ship. 

“Go! Go!” she calls from the hull. 

Clumsily, Lumina makes her way up to the cockpit, setting the kid down in Din’s lap. “Let me fly,” she pants.

“What?”

“I need something to focus on or I’m gonna pass out. I’m a damn good pilot and your friends are getting their asses kicked out there. Let me fly.”

Din is more tolerable when he doesn’t argue. Though it is less enjoyable overall.

“You know, someday you’ll have to tell me something,” he says, sitting behind her, strapped with the child.

“I know,” Lumina sighs. “I’ll do it when you do it first.”

---

The last of the TIE fighters falls into a fiery explosion, wreckage disappeared to ash. The battle had been quick, if not jolting with excited screams from the child.

“She’s not too bad, huh, kid?” Din asks. Vomit isn’t a beloved response, but it’s what he gets. “Oh boy.”

“Here, switch me I’ll get him,” Lumina chuckles, going to his side. “Messy little boy. See, that’s called karma for stealing, you little shit.”

“Don’t call our kid a little shit,” Din says as a laugh, taking the controls.

The commlink channel breaks, Greef Karga’s voice enters. “That was some pretty impressive flying, Mando. What do I owe ya?”

“Give your thanks to Lumina,” he says. “She’s the pilot here.”

Pregnant pause is more humorous than offensive. “What do we owe her?”

“She’s not one to take on debts. With the repairs we’ll call it even.”

“Mando listen,” Karga sighs heavy. “We wanna apologize to your girl. We wouldn’t have gotten out of that without her. If she’s alright to you, she’s alright to us.”

They share a look, Lumina’s nose scrunches, and her head shakes. It’s fine, she mouths. I’m used to it.

“Consider that apology accepted,” Din says, turning forward. 

“Can we at least buy you two a drink?”

“Sorry, there’s some onboard maintenance we gotta take care of. Then we gotta—“ 

A heavy drop comes onto the durasteel floor. With inspection, Lumina lays fallen and unconscious.

“Hey!” Jumping out of his seat, Din is quick to her body. “Lumina? Lumina!”

“Is everything okay up there?”

“Change of plans, I’m landing the ship. We need a medic, now.” 

“Dune is on her way to the station.”

The child screams murder besides her, flooding with tears. He hasn’t been this bad since the first time she left. Wails are heard through the link, piercing the connection. 

As soon as the ship is landing, Din carries Lumina down the ladder, off the extending gangplank. Cara is ready at the end with a hovering stretcher. Being placed, there’s no disruption of her form save for her chest rising with every breath. She’s run to the Med Station without further question. 

“What happened?” Karga asks.

“I don’t know. She collapsed. I have to—the kid, he’s in the cockpit—I can’t—“

“I’ll get him. You go.”

On arrival, she’s already been placed in a medpod. A droid circles her body, various scanners flickering their lights.

“Report,” Cara says.

“The patient is alive,” the droid says. “However, the brain is showing unusually high activity. Specifically for humans who have entered Stage R of rest.”

“What does that mean?”

“I believe humans refer to this as a ‘nightmare’.”

“She has nightmares every night,” Din snaps. “They don’t make her faint when she’s conscious. Something is wrong. What is it?”

“My scans indicate the body is reacting to severe trauma, causing equally severe physical pain. Has the patient experienced symptoms of illness recently?”

“She’s been sick all day,” Din says, gloved hand gripped to creases on the bed’s railing. “Coughing, fainting, nausea, hard time breathing. She said it was the heat but… it’s been off and on all day. She’s fine, and then she’s sick and then she’s fine again.”

“Curious,” the droid responds. “There are no signs to internal damage or malfunctioning neurons. By every indication, the patient is of perfect health. I will require more time to analyze. You may return by nightfall. I request you leave the vicinity so that I may conduct more tests.”

“By night? We don’t have time for that, we have to leave—“

Cara holds up her hand, pulling Din out by the arm. “It’s trying its best. If she’s just sleeping I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. There’s nothing you can do right now. Let’s go.”

---

They meet with Karga in the cantina, who sits with the child sleeping in his lap. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Cara says, sliding beside him. “It says she’s just sleeping.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“She’s in pain,” Din says. “Something happened at that base, it sent her into shock. I should be with her. What if she—“

“She’ll be fine,” Cara says. “We just have to give it the day. You heard the droid, she’s in perfect health.”

“I still can’t afford to stay until night. Gideon could be on route on our location at moment, it’s not safe.”

“Why don’t you take the kid and go?” Karga offers. “We can watch her, and she’ll get the care she needs. We’ll call you if there are any updates or she wakes up.”

“I can’t leave her.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand—“ Cara says.

“This isn’t up for debate,” he argues, stern and definitive. “She’s not safe out here on her own. If Gideon makes his way down and finds her—”

“What does Moff Gideon want with your girlfriend, Mando?” Cara asks in a far calmer manner than before.

Din sighs, ignoring whatever passive denial of their relationship is eating at his brain. “She’s wanted. Been on the run from the Empire for years. Believe me, she hates the Empire more than you do. She’s like Kulli. It wasn’t her choice to serve. Difference is, they weren’t happy with her leaving.” 

Mention of their past friend and ally brings solace to the group, sat in their pensive silence. Prejudice is hard to overcome, especially in times of war.

“That scientist guy mentioned a girl,” Cara says eventually, voice softer. “And you say Gideon wants her… Is she—”

“No,” Din says immediately. “I don’t know what she is, but it’s not one of them. If she were, she would have told me.”

“And you believe that?”

“I do.”

“There may be one solution,” Karga says. “We have an AZ unit in the med station. It’s been powered down for months now, but it works. If she’s sleeping, she doesn’t need intensive care. The droid can keep an eye on her. If her levels drop or she needs immediate attention, it’ll alert you.”

It isn’t much, but it’ll have to do.

“Thank you,” Din says. “We to need leave now. Before we get any unwanted visitors.”

---

Aboard the Razor Crest, the Mandalorian carries Lumina’s body, followed by the hovering AZ unit. 

“You tell me the moment anything changes with her.” He lays Lumina on the bed, moving her disheveled hair. The kid whines in his arms, reaching. “I mean anything. I want to know if she talks, cries, wakes up. If she so much as moves, you tell me. You tell me immediately. Do you understand that?”

“Oh yes, yes indeed,” the droid nods. “I am programmed to ensure the safety of all my patients. Due to being the only one, she is my top priority. Be assured I will deliver stimpaks on a timely manner, and other vital necessities correlated with human livelihood.”

“Good. No matter what, you don’t leave her side.”

“You have my mechanical medical word.”

---

Across the board of an Imperial starship, a 546 Class model of a command cruiser, a blue hologram erupts. A cloaked figure, hood drawn up to reveal but a shadow of facial recognition, stands on the other end.

“Have you done it?” a female of Imperial ranking asks. Although human, her voice is modulated through a black helmet. The red visor is the only indicator of a living form behind it.

“I’m afraid the Mandalorian interrupted, it’s hard to say if it took,” the hologram says.

“My patience is running thin, Nightsister. Do not think my generosity from Ryndellia can extend so far. I don’t intend to make that mistake again.”

“I give you my word, when the time comes, I will not disappoint you.”

“Moff Gideon will not be pleased by this development. Do not forget, your possession of the Darksaber is contingent on our success.”

“I understand. Should you be in need of my services again, you know how to reach me.”

As the hologram dissipates into the air, the Imperial woman leaves without another word. Down sterile corridors and past Strom Troopers, she ends at sliding doors. 

The scene of their opening is a curious one. Walls stand lined with men like droids, a handful of engineers tending to various ones. In the middle, the caped man of Moff Gideon.

“Sir,” the Imperial says from behind. “The Nightsister was unsuccessful, as predicted. I’m afraid we will not see developments until she is separated from the Mandalorian. Unfortunately, the Razor Crest is reported to have left Nevarro’s orbit with all the assets.”

“Are we aware of their destination?” He asks, turning.

“No Sir. Without updates from Relena O’Menefe, they’ve completely gone off the radar.”

“This is highly disappointing.”

“I agree,” she nods, following his walk away one step behind. “Although, if I may. I believe I have a solution.”

“Please, speak freely.”

“Word has come in from Tatooine. There has been an attack on the former palace of Jabba the Hutt. A particular gunship of one Boba Fett has rendered missing as a result.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’m requesting to make contact. If anyone can find her, it’s him. Once he’s made aware of her continued life, he’ll have no choice. You know as well as I do that the top priority of any being from the Fett strand is family. It’s practically in their genetic makeup. If he is alive as suspected, it should only be days before they are found.”

A smile dances on Gideons lips, tight and cruel. “And we, will be ready. You have my permission, but make quick work of it. There's no need to cause suspicion.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she nods. “I will not disappoint you.”

“You’ve served me well Inquisitor, do trust your reward will be plentiful when the time is right.”

“You can keep your treasures,” she says, circular lightsaber hilt gripped in her right hand. “I only want my sister back.”

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Death of Dawn

---

Taglist: @lexloon @jay-bel @xsadderdazeforeverx @spideysimpossiblegirl @sarahjkl82-blog @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

#Mandalorian #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x original character #din djarin #din djarin x ofc #Din Djarin x Original Female Character #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x oc #mando x ofc #mando x original character #Mando x oc #Starlight

[cc-1010fox]

Coruscant Guard Weapons in Clone Wars

Dc-17 Hand Blaster

was a heavy blaster pistol wielded by the clone troopers of the Grand Army of the Galactic Republic during the Clone Wars. An advanced firearm, it was fielded to elite soldiers in the army, most notably Advanced Recon Commandos, clone trooper commanders, and clone jet troopers.

https://starwarsrepublicclonetroopers.fandom.com/wiki/DC-17_Blaster_Pistol

DC-15A Blaster Rifle

The DC-15A blaster rifle, or DC-15 long-rifle, was a blaster rifle produced by BlasTech Industries which was one of the most common weapons used by Clone Troopers during the Clone Wars.

https://starwarsrepublicclonetroopers.fandom.com/wiki/DC-15A_Blaster_Rifle

DC-15S Blaster Carbine

The DC-15S Blaster Carbine, produced by BlasTech Industries, is a semi-automatic and rapid fire blaster which also has a stun feature. As well as a unique fully-foldable stalk. The rifle was used by clone troopers throughout the Clone Wars and became the more favored weapon amongst its more powerful counterpart, the DC-15A Blaster Rifle, due to its compact size and usefulness in close quarter engagements.

https://starwarsrepublicclonetroopers.fandom.com/wiki/DC-15S_Blaster_Carbine

Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon

The Z-6 rotary blaster cannon was a blaster cannon used by the Galactic Republic and the Separatist Alliance during the Clone Wars. The Z-6 was a powerful and rapid-fire weapon for Republic troops during the Clone Wars. Heavy Gunners were specialized clone troopers who used the Z-6.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Z-6_rotary_blaster_cannon

RPS-6 Rocket Launcher

The RPS-6 rocket launcher, also known as the Sienar shoulder-launched missile, was a model of missile launcher manufactured by Sienar Fleet Systems. They were the main model of infantry-portable shoulder-fired rocket launcher used in the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/RPS-6_rocket_launcher

Riot Shield

The Riot Shield was a personal energy shield used by law enforcement and planetary defense forces however the Coruscant Guard utilized a physical shield. Riot clone troopers were specialized clone shock troopers of the Coruscant Guard and were utilized during the Clone Wars by the Galactic Republic for riot control and other police actions.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Riot_clone_trooper

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Riot_shield/Legends

Stun Batons

A stun baton or shock baton was a non-lethal short-range melee weapon that immobilized organic targets with a powerful electrical shock

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Stun_baton/Legends

Electrostaff

An electrostaff was a melee weapon which was capable of generating an electric current and was in the form of a simple staff. Essentially, this weapon was much like an elongated stun baton, whereas the stun baton would be used for very close combat, the length of the electrostaff allowed the user to keep opponents at a distance.

https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Electrostaff

#coruscant guard #commander fox #commander thire #commander thorn #the clone wars #courscant guard weapons #this is a working list so I’m sorry if I missed anything #pls feel free to add on!!! #CG REFERENCE

[lady-of-the-spirit]

Because killing a disarmed opponent is against the Jedi code, it is kind of a big deal in RotS for Anakin to cut off Dock's head, but Mace Windu does it causally and in front of his son (and leaves a small child on the battlefield).

I take issue with the word "casually" being used to describe Mace killing Jango but we're not gonna get into that rn.

There was a 1 second space between Jango losing his blaster and getting his head chopped off. Whereas Anakin had the time to consider it and he still did it, Mace had exactly 1 second to take down his enemy before his enemy would kill him. Not the same thing.

Because, if I can say anything for certain about Mandalorians, it is that they are basically never unarmed. Taken from the SW wiki, here's what it has to say about Jango's armor: "featured an arsenal of deadly weaponry. The gauntlets included retractable wrist blades, a snare, a Czerka Arms ZX miniature flame projector, a BlasTech Industries Dur-24 wrist lase" among other things. That's not unarmed.

if Jango didn't want his son to see death, he shouldn't have taken him to a public execution. He should know the moment he jumped into battle (which he CHOSE to do, he'd been watching the jedi vs droid fight for awhile before he jumped in) his son was potentially going to witness his death. Mace is not responsible for Jango's parenting choices here. He killed Jango, but Jango is the one who brought Boba in the first place. (Also I'm pretty sure Jango told Boba to hide and Boba came back out anyway but I could be wrong.)

Also wtf was Mace supposed to do with Boba? Take him in? For all he knew, Boba would be cared for by the separatists or some other guardian, and it's not like Mace would have had Boba high on the list of priorities in the middle of a battle. Boba isn't Mace's responsibility.

#ask #anonymous

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - Filvian

Filve was the hot, dry homeworld of the Filvians in the Dufilvian sector of the Mid Rim.

Filvians were fascinated by new devices and unfamiliar machinery, and easily picked up new technical skills. From their beginnings as primitive desert dwellers, the Filvian people expanded their scientific and technical knowledge, eventually becoming among the galaxy's foremost computer programmers and technicians. The cities of Filve were also notable examples of advanced Filvian technology: each city was fully enclosed, climate-controlled, and connected with the other cities via transportation networks which made it possible to visit each mega-city without stepping outdoors.

The gregarious nature of the Filvian people led them to build a top-quality spaceport on Filve, where they could interact with members of other species. Their planet became a major center for trade and starship servicing, with branch offices of major corporations such as BlasTech Industries and Sienar. This led to unwanted Imperial attention, however. The Filvians feared the Empire's xenophobic policies, and made every effort to placate them. During their time under Imperial rule, most Filvians longed for the days of the Galactic Republic. In 6 ABY, they threw their support behind the New Republic.

Filvians were naturally adapted to desert environments, with large humps on their backs used to store water and fat. A series of smaller glands distributed through their bodies served the same purpose, giving them distinctively lumpy bodies, and allowing them to survive for up to thirty standard days with neither food nor water. Despite the adaptations which allowed them to survive in Filve's hot deserts, they preferred to live in cooler regions.

While normally quadrupedal, they could walk on their hind legs (though more slowly than they could on four), and use their nimble three-fingered front feet as hands.

Filvians age at the following stages:

1 - 10 Child

11 - 19 Young Adult

20 - 50 Adult

51 - 70 Middle Age

71 - 89 Old

Examples of Names: H'nib Statermast, H'cohn Filermist, H'tas Hogelhoft.

Languages: Filvians have adopted the Basic from so long that it has become their native language.

#star wars #star wars species #star wars aliens #Filvian #star wars Filvian

[bethagain]

I’ve seen lots of posts since Chapter 14 about our favorite Mandalorian and how he’s probably reacting to all this. Emotional breakdown, violent outburst, visibly miserable, not eating.

So, here I go again with, huh. But what if it was like this. 

***

He would definitely still eat. Food is fuel and he will need fuel. If Boba Fett offers, he’s going to choose carefully from Slave I’s stores. Protein, carbs, enough fat to keep his appetite steady. If there’s anything fresh--fruit, vegetables, meat--he’s not going to turn it down. He’s going to say Thank you, brief and simple, and he’s going to eat.

We’ve never seen him work out, but think about it. Spending long periods shipboard, needing to be in shape to do his job: he’s gotta. Boba probably does, too, so somewhere on Slave I is a pull-up bar. There’s exactly enough room in the hold to manage pushups, situps. He’s not going to overdo it. That’s asking for injury. But he’s not going to get even a day’s worth of soft. 

He doesn’t have a lot left, by way of weapons. But that blaster at his hip has never been so well tuned, not even the day it came off the line at BlasTech Industries. Probably Boba has a supply of gas canisters to reload. You’ll hear that same short Thank you as Din accepts one for the gun and one for the clip on his belt.

Same with the hidden weapons in the vambraces. The flamethrower’s already topped up. He uses a whole sentence to ask Boba for tools, then sits silently while he removes, inspects, and brushes dust and ash from each of the individual Whistling Birds. He reseats them one by one, heavy hands with a light touch so the conductor surfaces touch just so and the detonators remain quiescent. The grappling line is unwound, inspected centimeter by centimeter for damage, and then rewound on its mechanism in perfect, neat lines.

Probably don’t talk to him while he’s doing these things. He might answer, if it’s important, and if he does his tone will be even. But you won’t get much out of him. 

I hope the ride to Nevarro isn’t too long, though, because I do worry a bit when he runs out of things to do. That beskar spear is what’s going to save him, I think. Might as well take the time to practice, if Fennec or Boba is willing.

Watch for the same focus, the same precision. You’re not going to see him lose it on either of them. You’re not going to see him almost take someone’s head off. This is learning. Step by step, piece by piece. He’s going to take every damn chance he can get to be ready for what comes.

#the mandalorian #last chance for headcanons before Chapter 15! #the mandalorian spoilers