#also I MISSED THIS ACCOUNT AND MY SWTOR FRIENDS SO MUCH

[thecipherlegacy]

Kenaas my sweet boy!

#mox's ocs #mox's art #my art #swtor oc #nautolan #oc: kenaas #my oc #my ocs #its been almost a year since ive drawn some of these guys #feels good to draw them again 🥺 #also I MISSED THIS ACCOUNT AND MY SWTOR FRIENDS SO MUCH

[themerriweathermage]

Author Interview

I was tagged by @sleepswithvillains . I’ve never been tagged much before so this is kind of new for me, but I love it! Tag me all the time! Also you did it again, where I got the Tumblr notification like right as I went to bed, but my sleep schedule is so wack right now.

Tagging: @guardianofrivendell @moriamithril @sunflower1000 and really whoever wants to do it. Drop me a tag if you decide to do it because I definitely want to see what you have to say!

I have a lot of unfinished fics and not a lot of published works in comparison. 

1. Name: The Merriweather Mage (Tumblr)/ RinzlersGhost (AO3)

2. Fandoms: LOTR/The Hobbit, The Witcher (TV), SWTOR/Star Wars, Pirates of the Caribbean, Harry Potter, Twilight, Underworld (though I’m not active in most of them unless I’m hyper-fixating)

3. Where you post: AO3, Tumblr, and I have an inactive FF.NET account

4. Most popular oneshot: People seem to have a real affinity for Meleth-nin/My Love. I actually hated writing it, because I was in such a bad place after receiving news that my childhood dog had died, but I don’t hate the fic itself.

5. Most popular multichapter: Every Kitten Has Claws which is a Geralt X Druid Fem!Reader. 25 Kudos, 3 bookmarks, 517 hits. Followed by Turuhalme in the Greenwood which is Thranduil X Fem!Reader. 9 Kudos, 1 bookmark, 270 hits. Both contain 18+ Content.

6. Actual worst part of writing: I legitimately hate writing fight scenes. I’m horrible at them and most of my fics contain some sort of fight scene obnoxiously enough. Although the best advice I ever saw on here was to keep your fight scenes short because not very many people are interested in a long drawn out detailed fight scene. 

7. Favorite story you wrote: Bards & Beans Coffee Co. Elrond X Fem!Reader. Was the first time I’d ever written anything in the second person. I based it off of a dream I had about meeting Elrond in a coffee shop. I planned it, wrote it, and posted it in the span of four days. It’s basically as if Middle Earth exists on the other side of meridian locks, and it’s set during the War of the Ring but with some of the characters from the Hobbit so the timelines are pretty pushed together. Your side of the meridian locks has a Earth that is basically a continuous strip of land that varies from high-tech futuristic ports all the way down to medieval ports. Basically the farther North you go, the more high tech and futuristic the land becomes. Quite a shock for those who would have never been to the other side of the locks. 18+ Content.

8. Story you were nervous to post: Most likely all of them. Any of my Twilight work though, I always hesitate about publishing. Sometimes it’s because the stories are close to my heart, but I also know that the fandom can be rabid. Most of the interactions I’ve ever had with Twilight blogs are fine, but there’s a lot of discourse about Twilight right now, and while I appreciate that most people are in the right (the issue with the Quileute tribe, the Cullen’s as villains, Jasper and the Confederacy, the actual legitimacy of the Volturi as a ruling body, etc), this is actually one of the reasons I left the fandom from a writing/following POV. (There are many, many things that are wrong with Twilight and not from a literature point of view. For example, Meyers took a real life Native American tribe and treated them highly unfairly in the books, to the point of calling them dogs which isn’t very fair at all, and they have received no compensation for being used and they are risk in the place they live in now. If you have some time and money, I would recommend checking out the Quileute Move to Higher Ground project.)

9. How you choose your titles: For story titles, I like to choose the main theme or a main phrase that is used. For chapter titles, I either don’t title or I will chose something that is a main part of the chapter.

10. Complete works: Out of the 21 works I have on AO3, 18 of them are completed, although one is an open ended and may be reopened after I get some of the larger works out of my way. As for fics in general that I haven’t published or have published on other platforms, there is 2 of 5 complete works on FF.NET. Some of those stories I will be pulling and deleting. The two complete works will be migrating to AO3.

11. Incomplete works: Actively: Sadril-nin/My Loyal One, A Hunter’s Circlet, and Beauty in Brokenness (unpublished for now). I have a few other inactive LOTR/The Hobbit based fics that I might try to finish after the main two are finished. Inactive: Literally too many to count. I mean, when I wrote my goodbye to the Twilight fandom, I said that I had been writing for the fandom for nearly nine years. I have so many unfinished Twilight fics, well over 100.

12. Do you outline: Not usually. I’m at the point with Sadril-nin right now where I’m literally following a map of Middle Earth and cataloguing the journey across the map, so I guess that could be considered an outline. Mostly if I’m writing for LOTR/The Hobbit, I want to follow the timeline of progression for the story that’s already been written. I do have a little bit of leeway in that gap between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings though.

13. Coming soon ideas, maybe? I’ve been giving you a taste of Beauty in Brokenness. I do intend to publish it, but it’s a constant struggle to rework it. I have ideas that I want to cement in the story that don’t always come out the way I want them to, so I am consistently reworking parts of it all the time. I will also be rewriting (eventually) Crown of Thorns, which is Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, Lord Beckett X Siren!OFC. I also appreciate the idea of Nestadion X Centaur Fem!Reader, but instead of being a centaur all the time, you’re actually a shifter who can turn into a centaur. Really confuses a warrior elf to see what amounts to a small human carrying this massive two handed sword around and calling him “princess” all the time.

14. Ask me anything: Is there anything you miss in fanfic? In comparison to the actual book/movie? Not really. I appreciate the original works, but I recognize that they can be flawed and so can their authors/writers. Which is why fanfic is so appealing-- everyone has a different spin on the original; everyone has a different take on the characters, everyone writes differently, and that’s the fascinating part to me. The only downside, of course with any fanfic, is the fandom and it can be hit or miss with people. It is what it is, and the liberty of fanfic is that not everyone is going to like or enjoy your works, and the same goes for your tastes. Are there right or wrong opinions? I don’t know; I’ve both read and written some morally ambiguous fics, and some I would like to forget that I very much haven’t.

15. Best writing traits: Same as the worst writing traits. I’m a sucker for detail. I love it. I want my readers to see it like I do. When I read books or play D&D or play video games, I see it like I’m in a movie. When I write, I want you to see it like you’re on set and the cameras are rolling and you are perfectly prepared. I want you to feel like you are in the story, which is why my oneshots turn into series, and my multi-chapter fics turn into novel length stories. I find it obnoxious at times, because I feel like I can’t ever turn it off, but by the feedback I get, some of y’all really enjoy it, so let’s get this show on the road.

16. Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Uhhhh, let me go browse my WIP folder. I’ve put quite a bit of research into rewriting Crown of Thorns and making it slightly more historically accurate. I know that there will be a Part 2 to Sadril-nin, because I’m not going to time skip a seventy/eighty year gap between the timelines of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. And I really don’t want to submit y’all to this absolutely massive story all jam-packed into one fic. Other than that, I’m also sitting on Through Hellfire and High Waters, which is another Elrond X Reader fic that follows the premise of a modern/medieval world all smashed into one. The Queen of Eryn Galen also needs a proper ending and to be published, a Thranduil X OFC fic; this one will also have a Part 2.

17. Spicy Tangential Opinion: I don’t care if my writing makes the characters out of character. I try to tag that if I can, but let’s be real here. Either I’m writing a character that originally has a limited backstory and a very real chance at an open-ended future, or I didn’t like the canon character and I’m rejecting that reality and replacing it with my own. Does it mean that I don’t or am refusing to recognize character flaws? No, and that’s the beauty of fanfic. You can do whatever you want. You might get hate for it or you might not. For example, I am a fan of Severus Snape (RIP Alan Rickman). Does his character have flaws? Yes. Do I like the way he was canonically written? No. Are his actions justifiable? Hell no. Is that going to stop me from being a fan? Again, no. He is arguably one of the most disagreed upon character of that series. I don’t see a need to defend why I write him the way I do. I don’t see a need to defend him in discourse, and I’m certainly not going to be hateful about it. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion about it. Yes, there was probably some underlying intent when the character was written. I’m not here (unless you’re specifically asking my opinion on it) I’m not here to read in between the lines with characters like Snape. I do not care enough to lose friends over opinions like that.

#long post #i am so sorry #get to know the author

[honekitteh]

Fic: Countdown - Chapter 9

Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: M Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor,  Canon-typical levels of poor decision-making Synopsis: A distress call leads the Jedi Battlemaster to Ziost, but time is running out.  Follows the storyline of The Rise of the Emperor and inserts missing scenes.   Author's Notes: Thank you to @storyknitter​ for giving this chapter a once over.  You have no idea how much that means to me! Warnings: See Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |  Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Crossposted to AO3

Across the din of Carrick Station, the pounding of my heart was the only sound I could focus on as I approached the cantina in the center of the promenade.  I took a deep breath and sank into its rhythm, matching my steps to each thump. My eyes flickered between each patron in the cantina, focusing every so often on an individual:  There was a blindfolded Miralukan at the bar, sipping on a light blue beverage, tilting his head ever so slightly towards the commotion behind him. A hulking Devaronian was talking loudly to a tiny greenish skinned Twi'lek, who shrank at each word as though struck by a heavy blow.  Another man, a brown-haired thin human in a brown nondescript vest, slid up next to the Miralukan, also taking note of the loud display.

It was far livelier than I had expected, but my knowledge of bar etiquette could leave a lot to be desired.  Though I’m sure Doc would kindly tell me that the station’s cantina is tame compared to other planets. But that is a pondering for another time.

Sure enough, my target was precisely where I’d expected him.  It felt like a lifetime ago when we just met briefly to discuss the business dealings of a... mutual friend who had been acting suspicious.  I fidgeted with my button-up shirt, trying to pull it down as it did not completely cover my stomach.  I was not normally self-conscious about it, given my typical attire, but this was different: the station had a chill to the air that I hadn’t accounted for.  After straightening the shirt and brown vest, I took a quick glance at myself in the reflection of a pillar nearby. The vest and shirt combo, along with the dual-wielding belt, made me more like a gunslinger than a Jedi.  Kira had been quite insistent that I should not look like a Jedi if I’m going on a date. Was this a date? I suppose it was. After all, I didn’t even have my weapons on me. I figured should an incident occur, I’ll just rely on my wits and the Force to come up with a solution.

It was a pity I always had to think in such a way.  I’m sure all contingencies had been taken into account.  I took a step in the aforementioned direction, keeping my senses open and my guard up.  As I slid into the seat across from Theron Shan, I raised an eyebrow and glanced over the slightly unbuttoned henley underneath his trademark red jacket.  “So…” I began, “About that rain check.”

His eyes didn’t leave my own as I settled into my seat, his brow furrowing only slightly before his gaze softened.  His left arm was relaxed propped up along the top of the booth he was slouched into. “I’ve got a bit of time,” he began after a moment, crossing his legs, “Borrowed time, so not a whole lot, but should be enough to share a drink.”

I returned his studying gaze, glancing to the shirt he was wearing and the hint of flesh beneath the buttons, then back up to his eyes.  “Is that a new shirt?”

He quirked an eyebrow.  “Yeah. You like it?”

“Is nice,” I said softly, my voice trailing off the rest of my thoughts as I inadvertently got lost in a lingering glance again towards the shirt’s opening.

He gave me a small wink and motioned towards the tiny Twi'lek over at the bar.  She quickly made her way towards us, away from the now-shouting Devaronian with a grateful expression.

“Ever tried Mandalorian kri’gee?” Theron asked.

I tilted my head, curious.  “No? A drink?”

He smirked. “Are you even a drinker?”

“I… partake… on occasion.”

He looked up at the Twi'lek, who was shaking her head towards me with her eyes wide.  He tapped his finger on his mouth. “This might not be the drink for a beginner.”

I looked between the two, frowning.  “I am not some delicate flower that needs protecting!”

His grin grew larger at my protest, then gave the Twi'lek waitress a wink holding up two fingers.  She nodded subserviently, though giving me a glance of what could only be described as concern. Her trip to the bar was uneventful as she obtained the drinks, the earlier rowdy Devaronian nowhere to be seen.  Neither the Miralukan nor the human were still at the bar either.  

Theron remained alert as we waited, eyes scanning the crowd.  The silence between us only served to amplify the heartbeat pounding in my ears and the server seemed to have run all the way to Mandalore to retrieve our order.  

Soon enough, however, she returned and set the bottle in front of us with two glasses.  She murmured the customary acknowledgment of our thanks in Huttese and asked us if there was anything else we needed to let her know.  I nodded to her and asked simply for a menu while Theron skillfully poured the Mandalorian kri’gee into two glasses and slid the small tumbler over to me.

He raised his glass and tilted his head.  “Anything to toast?” he asked.

I considered for a moment and raised my glass.  “To a rain check.”

He smiled at me for that and nodded.  “A rain check.” Then we both downed the glasses in one gulp.

I coughed and sputtered a few times as a fire raged through my senses.  I could feel Theron’s amusement at my suffering before I heard his laugh.

“Want another?” he asked within the midst of his laughter.

I slid along the rounded bench closer to him and punched him in the shoulder before he could react.  The leather of his jacket creaked at the amount of pressure and a small crease was left behind.

He straightened his coat a bit.  “Hitting on me already?” he laughed.

I hit him again, finding myself giggling just a bit.  “I’m tempted to say ‘Challenge Accepted’ but I sense that might be an unwise decision on an empty stomach.”

He was watching me with a smirk.  Whether he was amused by my comment or watching me to see how the alcohol was going to affect me, I could not tell.  After a moment of great consideration, he stated, “True. Very unwise. Very unbecoming for a lady of your station.”

“You’re the one that suggested… this… this...” I waved at the bottle, “Thing.  Are you trying to get me drunk, Theron Shan?”

“Me?” he asked, putting a hand on his chest in what could only be described as mock hurt, “I would never.  It is not my fault you decided to take my drink challenge on an empty stomach.”

The waitress slid a menu in front of me and I looked down at it for a brief second before Theron slid it away from me and pointed towards an item on the menu.  I frowned a bit and took the menu back as the waitress left and looked down at it.

“Dumplings. You have a fondness for them if I remember correctly,” he explained.  

I tilted my head at him.  “Street food festival on Coruscant.  Before you sent me in to almost drown on Manaan.  I remember.”

“Hey, you made it out…” he pouted slightly, sliding his hand over mine which was resting on top of the menu.

“Can’t say it was an altogether terrible experience.”

“Are your ears red from the drink?”  He was smirking at me.

While indeed, the kri’gee had completely gone straight to my head, it wasn’t like I was going to let him in on that.  Not willingly at least. “What?”

“You’re blushing from something and it’s gone to your ears.”  He moved his hand from where it had been on top of mine and brushed his fingers lightly along the outer edge of my right ear.

I shivered at the touch of his finger and bit my lip.  I looked over at him and studied him closely. Sure enough, his cheeks and ears had a slightly reddish tint to them as well.  “Excuse me? Look who’s talking.” I punched him in his shoulder. “Your face isn’t any better.”

He shrugged leaning back and resting both of his arms along the top of the booth seat.  “It’s obviously a side effect of the kri’gee. I’m not the one who’d never had it before.”

“I should throw something at you.”

“Violence also seems to be a side effect of the kri’gee in some people,” he said, rubbing his chin for a moment in thought.  

How had I not noticed that he’d grown out his typical 5 o’clock shadow into a quarter of an inch beard before?  I blame the henley. The way the light fabric and unbuttoned shirt laid on him was extremely distracting.  

His musing continued, “Maybe that’s why Mandalorians like it as part of their celebrations.  Definitely something to investigate.”

I pursed my lips at him, debating a retort.  Given that the one that popped in my mind was a stab at him being on administrative leave, I opted against it and decided to attempt a menacing glare.

“Are you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Glaring at you menacingly.  Is it working?”

He tried to smother a grin, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite his effort, and said softly, “So cute.”

I pouted.  “Cute isn’t intimidating.”

He shook his head.  “No. No indeed it is not.”

The Twi'lek waitress returned and set down a very large plate of dumplings.  I felt a small rumble in my stomach as I realized exactly how hungry I was.

“Jyana,” Theron stated softly, “Are you already drunk?”

“No…” Then I hiccupped.  I felt my ears heating up again as I sighed.  “... Maybe.”

“After one drink huh…” he stated.  He took one of the dumplings from the platter and offered it to me.  “Have some food,” he smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.”

I gave him a dubious glance and reached to take the dumpling from him with his hand.  He pulled it back and shook his head. I furrowed my brow in frustration and confusion, then looked up at him, still holding it out for me.  Oh.  I then leaned in cautiously and allowed him to feed me the first dumpling.

He winked at me and grabbed one for himself.

“Which dumplings did you get?” I asked as I picked up a different one. “Or did you order a variety?”

“I told her to surprise us.”

I furrowed my brow.  “I did not notice you actually saying anything other than pointing at the menu?”

“There are many different languages, you know,” he said raising an eyebrow, “Some of which are not verbal.”

“Huh, so like thieves cant or something like that?  I think that’s what it was called.”

He nodded a bit.  “Something like that.  Not something they teach at the temple?”

“Oh, they offer it should some desire to learn,” I said, “My skills laid elsewhere.”

“You do excel at what you do,” he smiled and took his second dumpling.

I smiled a bit and scratched the back of my neck, before frowning a bit.  I felt a nudge lightly and then looked back over to him.

“None of that,” he whispered.  “And you’re red again. That is definitely a fascinating development.”

I sighed heavily and gave him a half-hearted punch to his shoulder.  “You stop that.”

He rubbed his shoulder lightly with a pout.  “Want another drink?”

I stared, dubious, at the bottle of kri’gee.  Before I answered though, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck raise lightly.  “Theron?”

“Hm?”

“Are we being watched?”

“Human?  Brown hair?  Brown vest? Fairly unremarkable otherwise?”

I pursed my lips at the description.  “Yes.”

“Dammit.”  Theron slid slightly away from me in the seat.

I raised my eyebrow at him.  

He fidgeted and bit his lip.  Something told me that he hadn’t accounted for this particular contingency.  He took a deep breath and stated quickly, “Act casual.”

I simply replied, “I don’t understand,” because I didn’t.

Before he could respond, the man in question had slid onto the edge of the bench next to Theron.  “Shan,” he drawled out, “When were you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Balkar,” he growled.  

I raised an eyebrow between the both of them and reached for my empty glass and looked down at it, frowning.

“Jonas Balkar, SIS,” the newcomer continued, “An old friend of Agent Shan’s here.”

“An old annoyance is more like it.”

Jonas waved Theron’s comment off.  He then studied the bottle in front of us.  “Mandalorian kri’gee? Wow, Theron, that’s your idea for the first drink of the night?”

“And you have a better idea?”

Giving Theron a pointed look that clearly impled, “Of course I do, you idiot,” he shrugged and flagged the waitress down.  “Allow me,” he said, exchanging a few hand gestures upon her arrival. She nodded and went back to the bartender. He looked back at us.  “So: no introductions?”

Before I even opened my mouth to respond, Theron quickly stated, “What do you want, Balkar?”

“I was just in the area.  Saw you here. Thought I’d say hello.  Pity you won’t introduce me to the lady.”  He reached his hand towards me.

Theron put his hand on top of Jonas’ before the latter could take my hand with his.  This time, I interrupted Theron’s objections and scooted closer to both of them. “Jyana is fine.  Old friends, huh?”

Jonas’s smile broadened and he nodded.  “We go way back.”

Theron slumped into his seat and looked back across the cantina.  His eyes flickered between each currently visible patron. I followed his gaze and noticed that Kira had taken up residence at the bar next to a Mirialan lady in casual attire.

“I could tell you so many stories.”

“Oh?” I leaned in, definitely intrigued.  The waitress returned and put a large light green beverage in front of me.  The rim of the glass was lined with brightly-colored rainbow salt and there was a holographic umbrella in it.  I studied the drink before slowing reaching for it.

Theron halted my attempt.  “Give me a moment,” he muttered.

“What, you don’t trust me?” Jonas laughed.

I looked between the two, curiously.  Theron sighed and let me take it. I slowly sipped the drink, finding it surprisingly fruity.  

“With everything I do for you, Shan, a little trust sometime would be nice.”

“Like the last time you got me captured and my implants almost stolen?”

“That was just that one time.  And I’d given you plenty of reports so you would have been aware had you just read them.”

“Right,” he sighed and looked over at me.  The waitress set down a pair of tumblers filled with an amber liquid on ice in front of the two agents.  

“I feel like there’s a story here,” I stated after taking another sip of the fruity monstrosity.

“Oh there definitely is, but sadly a great deal of that is classified,” Jonas said.

I raised an eyebrow, but opted to leave out the part that there was a great possibility that my clearance level in some respects exceeded his own.  But I was not entirely sure how much the term Battlemaster weighed within the SIS, nor was I inclined to find out. Theron seemed to want to keep who I was secret, and if I was completely honest, I wanted to be discreet as well.

“I could tell you a great story that involves a goat,” he continued.

Theron quickly cut him off, “And we’re done here.”

“A goat?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” a familiar voice cut through the conversation.  I looked up to find Kira and the Mirialan woman from the bar standing in front of the table.  Theron tilted his head at the intrusion and then a smirk crossed his lips.

“Hello ladies,” Jonas replied, “Having a fine evening?”

“Well, you see, this lovely lady beside me here has been waiting for some,” Kira paused a bit and looked at her companion, “Jonas Balkar was it?”

“Yes, Jonas,” the green-skinned lady nodded.

“Yes. She’s been waiting for quite some time. Perhaps you all could help us find him?”

“He’s right here,” Theron spoke up, nudging the Agent beside him.

“Oh? Well how lucky are we then,” Kira grinned. “Pity though.  I told her that if he didn’t show up, I’d happily spend some time with her.”

The Mirialan grinned, “Kira does seem to be far more entertaining company.”

“I would definitely not neglect you by bothering other patrons of the cantina.”

“Now ladies,” Jonas interrupted and got up out of the booth, taking his glass with him, “I’m sure I can come to some more fascinating arrangement.”  He started to lead them both away from Theron and me.

Kira peeked back over her shoulder and winked.

“Huh, he was supposed to be meeting someone himself,” Theron mused to himself.

I raised an eyebrow over at him.  “Are you filing this away for later?”

“Absolutely.”

I shook my head with a laugh.  “I suppose I’m not supposed to ask you about the goat?”

Theron’s expression of mirth melted into one of dread.  “Please don’t.”

“Aw,” I pouted slightly, “It sounds funny.”

He grumbled and took a long sip of his own beverage.

“Fine.  I won’t.”  I elbowed him in his arm.  “Lighten up. The night is still yet young.”

He nudged me back and then smirked.  “More dumplings then?”

“Yes.”  I nodded, taking one of the still warm dumplings from the platter and offering it to him. “Very much yes.”

#thewipproject2020 #swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #theron shan #female jedi knight/hero of tython #oc: jyana kai #otp: come what may #fic: countdown #ziost #swtor: rise of the emperor #swtor #fanfic #oh look #in time for #theron thursday

[greyias]

FIC: Swipe Left

Title: Swipe Left Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Gen Rating: T  Author’s Notes: For @rinskiroo​, who needed a fic written incorporating a very, erm, special dating profile I shared over on Discord. Pieces of said profile were adapted to fit the universe. Also, a very special thanks goes to @aearyn​  for helping me come up with some amazing HoloNet dating apps.

If there was one thing Theron needed to learn, it was to find a way to prevent Jonas from pulling him into operations at the last minute. It always seemed to end up with him in the most awkward situations. The details of the missions always seemed sketchy, and tonight that had somehow landed him in a candlelit restaurant with an, admittedly attractive, Hrakian making googly eyes at him from across the table on a blind date.

He kept eyeing the man, trying to figure out exactly what nefarious plot the seemingly innocuous person had gotten wrapped up into. They certainly didn’t look like someone who ran with the Crimson Horde, one of the more minor gangs that was making a power play. Looks could be deceiving though — for now he’d have to keep playing his part.

“So, Theron,” the Hrakian said, golden eyes raking over him and flashing in appreciation, “I have to say, your profile pictures don’t do you justice.”

“My profile—?”

“Just go with it,” Jonas’s voice sounded over the audio feed in his implants, cutting Theron off before the confusion could be heard in his voice. “You don’t want to arouse any suspicion.”

Normally, Theron would find a chance to get on his sub-vocal mic and throw a snarky reply back at the man on the other end of the surveillance feed, but the table was too small, and the room too quiet, for him to disguise the noise. He briefly wished for just enough relative privacy so he could make a rude gesture at the holo-cam watching from the far end of the room, or at least glare, but that would definitely count as suspicious. So with little recourse, Theron fixed a wide smile in place and kept his cover.

“Well, Therzee—”

“It’s pronounced Thazia.”

“Sorry,” Theron said quickly, hoping that the flush didn’t show in his cheeks.

This was not exactly showing off his suave nature—but then again, he really wasn’t big on grand seductions. He preferred ops with a lot more explosions and adrenaline. But this was a Jonas Balkar op, so of course it had to be complicated. And he’d really needed more than thirty seconds to try and glean important details like his target’s name from a note hastily scribbled on flimsi.

“No, it’s okay, it’s a common mistake.” Thazia reached across the table, gently resting his hand on Theron’s. “But I’d be happy to help you with your pronunciation later.”

He was going to kill Jonas when this was all said and done—but until he had free clearance to murder his partner, Theron would have to make do funneling his annoyance into an even wider grin. “Later? But we haven’t even ordered appetizers yet.”

Thazia returned the smile, almost coyly. “You surprise me.”

“Yeah?” Theron smirked, and took a sip from the glass of whiskey he’d ordered.

“I mean, that’s what I get for making assumptions,” Thazia said. “Everyone moves at their own pace, even aspiring holoporn stars.”

The whiskey spewed across the table as Theron choked. He didn’t even bother trying to maintain his cool, suave image as he tried to process that statement. “What?”

That got a frown. “Your… you told me the nerdiest you’ve ever been was the one time when you wore glasses for a geeky school library themed adult film.”

“I told you that?” he asked hoarsely.

“You contacted me,” Thazia said. “That was your icebreaker message.”

“Hard to imagine anyone would use that as an opening line for a romantic match,” Theron ground out, although the statement was clearly meant for the person he could now hear laughing on the other end of the surveillance feed.

“I just assumed you were trying to impress me with your sexual prowess,” Thazia shrugged. “I’ll be honest I almost swiped left when I got that message, but I just… really needed to know about the goat.”

“The goat?” Theron meant to snarl. It sounded more like a squeak to his ears though.

“And you said you would only explain it in person. That the whole story was too risqué for the StarDate app.”

“Could you excuse me for a moment,” Theron’s voice was almost dangerously calm as he pulled a datapad from his pocket, “I need to check on something.”

Without any preamble, he quickly connected to the HoloNet and pulled up StarDate, the cheesiest and most notorious dating site in the galaxy. His fingers flew across the keypad, eyes furiously scanning the screen, until he found what he was looking for.

“Balkar,” he growled, completely dropping the ruse, “did you make a fake dating profile for me?”

“Hey, it’s only fake if the information isn’t real,” Jonas replied back cooly.

“I am not a porn star! Aspiring or otherwise!”

“Really? Could have fooled me with the amount of times you wind up naked on missions.”

“There were extenuating circumstances! You know what, I’m not going over this again--also that’s not my favorite book!”

“I took a shot in the dark. Sometimes you swing and you miss.”

“And what the hell is ‘Jedi Camp’?”

“All of your training as a kid.” Jonas said a little too innocently. “Is that not what it’s called?”

“I’m going to kill you!”

“Who are you talking to?” asked the very confused Hrakian.

Theron ignored him. He had much more important questions to get answers to, such as, “Why is there a picture of me spitting out a drink?”

“It shows character!” Jonas insisted.

“No it doesn’t—it shows saliva!”

“Well, I just wanted to give your potential suitors a preview of what they were getting in for!”

“I—I do not drool!”

“Really? Because I thought I heard—”

“You’ve heard nothing!” Theron insisted and then shot a look back at his date who was very slowly backing his chair away from the table. “Where are you going?”

“Um,” Thazia looked around nervously, “not to holo a friend to come rescue me from my mad date?”

Stars, the poor man look absolutely terrified, and not in the cornered animal way most of the perps he’d busted did. No, he just looked like a nice, normal person whose date had started ranting out loud to an invisible person.

“Balkar,” Theron growled, “did you lie about a mission to set me up on a blind date? Like an actual date with a real person and making me think they’re a dangerous gangster?”

“Of course not, do you think I’m a monster?” Jonas said. “I just thought you two might hit it off. Him with his insatiable curiosity about goats, you with your—”

“We are not talking about the goat right now!”

“Also your target is the guy two tables to the left—the Crimson Horde’s actual accountant. Oh, and I think he’s figured out you’re with the SIS since you started screaming at invisible people. You should probably do something before he gets away.”

Damn it.

He was going to have a long conversation with his partner after all of this over—probably with his fists—but for now… for now he had a job to do. With a quick apology to poor Thazia, Theron leapt over the table and gave chase to the gangster.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“But, Theron,” Jonas pretended to sound wounded, “you’re a shoe-in for a promotion after single-handedly bringing in the key to infiltrating and dismantling Crimson Horde.”

“I don’t want a promotion,” Theron paused long enough to glare at his partner. “What I want is to get my face off of the HoloNet so I can just do my job in peace. A job that, may I remind you, requires anonymity.”

“You act like managing a digital footprint is a difficult thing in this modern galaxy.”

“You’re changing the subject,” he muttered petulantly.

“Which is?”

“Why you didn’t just sign yourself up—isn’t seducing people on the taxpayer’s dime your thing? You could have gone to that restaurant just as easily as me.”

“Ferr knows my face, so I couldn’t exactly sidle up to him. Besides, you work too much.”

“Well someone has to!”

“You need to get out more. Go on a date. Have a good time.”

“That wasn’t a date. I was working!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Yours!” He snapped. “I don’t have time to clean up your messes.”

“Why, do you have plans?”

Theron felt the barest rush of heat to his cheeks, but it was just visible enough for the other man to catch.

“You do! Wait—don’t tell me it’s an actual date. With a real person.”

“It might be. What of it?”

Jonas sniffled and pretended to wipe away a tear. “I’m so proud. My little boy is growing up.”

“I am not your little—can you help me with this? If I’m late, I’m pretty sure that’s going to be the last straw for Thazia.”

“Is that your little goat-infatuated admirer from earlier?”

“Yes. I felt like someone owed him an apology after that whole mess of a dinner.”

“That’s adorable, you asked him out for real. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Theron snarled in frustration as he continued to scroll through the literally hundreds of potential matches on StarDate as he failed to navigate the app’s poor user interface, accidentally swiping left on a profile he wasn’t even trying to look at.

“What the hell Balkar? How do I deactivate this thing?”

“You’re the slicer,” Jonas shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Newscaster: ...In stranger news, there are reports that the popular dating service, StarDate, has gone offline after all of its servers suffered a catastrophic failure over the weekend. Both competitors, LoveForce and HoloConnection, were contacted but had no comment at this time.

Newscaster: Back to our continuing coverage, the Republic Military again deny rumors about a strike on Dromund Kaas, even as more reports emerge regarding the  disappearance of the Sith Emperor…

“Shan, has anyone ever explained to you the definition of ‘overkill’?”

“Bite me, Balkar.”

#swtor fanfiction #crackfic #theron shan #jonas balkar #brotp: theron shan & jonas balkar #brotp: spyboys #image heavy #i have no excuse for this #other than someone told me to do it #swtor #fanfic #greyfic

[annakie]

Thoughts on Andromeda, Part Eleven

We’re starting to head into the endgame, but I’ve got at least two more posts planned after this one.

All the planets are done.  Let’s finish up a loyalty mission and try to figure out what happened to the Salarians.

And then uh, the end of this post I ended up diverging into talking about... not specifically the ending but the enemies, both the specific main villain and the species overall.  So really, this post has spoilers if you haven’t finished the game.

One of the things I love about Andromeda is how, more than any other game, I think family is emphasized.  We know about, and get to meet, a family member or close friend of nearly every squadmate, and some of the crew.  Kallo and Suvi could definitely use some development in this area, but even Kallo has his friend we hear about.

And like, in SWTOR (mild spoilers if you haven’t played the last two expansions) my biggest complaint about the overall storyline in KotFE / KotET is that it’s all about someone else’s family but like... where are your personal stakes in this family aside from getting dragged into it and, I mean the fate of the galaxy but.... it’s like you’re the fifth wheel in the entire story and the entire last fight in KotET reminded me of being a teenager at your friend’s house and witnessing their family drama.

In ME:A yeah you’ve got some Ryder Family stuff going on but it’s not the center of the story. There’s enough family in it to feel like family is important to your character, unlike with Shepard who, even a Spacer Shepard’s family felt like an afterthought.  

And Drack’s connection with Kesh was one of my favorite “other family” bits in the game.  Especially when you learn the story of why he raised her.

Speaking of Drack... haha.  

Not just Drack but I really, really loved all the hangout post-loyalty quests with all the companions.  I may have said this already but I thought both the loyalty and post-loyalty hangouts were some of the best moments of the series.

PeeBee’s quest!

My Ryder was like, really forgiving of her companions so even this Annwyl was like “Whatevs, Peebs.  Let’s hope we don’t die.  My super poofy armor will protect me anyway.”

I shot.  Look, I know a toxic person who will continue to be a threat when I see one.  I had to do what was best for my buddy.

Annwyl is definitely the type who will forgive you for harming her, but don’t you dare mess with my friend’s heart, mind and stuff.

I loved the entire aesthetic of this place, I wish the mission would have lasted longer.

The post-mission confession of friendship was so, so great too.  

My one quibble with it, which wasn’t really a quibble but... don’t take Liam and Peebee out together for the first time after this mission because Liam questioning why she’s there and if she’s realy a part of the team goes from kinda “I can see his point” to “super dickish, Liam.  She’s already SAID she’s in for the team and she cares about you all and what’s going on!” 

I just love this pic of the rest of the team.  I also thought this was just a great “team bonding / really feeling like a found family” moment, too, with everyone skipping out on helping Peebee clean up her mess.

So, at this point I checked my game progress.  I’d done every quest I could find on all of the planets.  All of the loyalty missions.  Game completion: 70%.  So basically I think it takes into account story & loyalty missions as completion more than the amount of stuff done as a whole.  

But hey speaking of the little missions, I wanted to talk about the worst kind of mission in ME:A -- the “drive to like five random spawn points of enemies on the map, and hope to find something to click on” quests.  Like, you know “Hey I found a datapad here, now SAM is telling me I need to find four more datapads but there’s no map locations to find them.”  I think I ranted about these before.  They’re so annoying.  And also, some of them are broken.  

I’ve completed the game and have like six things left in my quest log.  One is a known broken quest given by an Angara in the Cultural center.  THREE are these drive-around quests.  For all of them, I’m pretty sure either I completed them or at least the drive-around part, and they’re still in my questlog. I wasted 2 or 3 hours one day doing nothing but following youtube playthroughs where people showed where they found the spawnpoints for these items, and checked every one of them, sometimes twice.  Nope, nothing there.  Can’t turn the quest in anywhere.   I really wanted to get 100% and I don’t think I can on this save file now. =\

Often when you DO find the 5 spawnpoints the ending quest is kinda neat, but its really not worth it, it feels like, for many of them.

I think these are the quests that are getting ignored in future playthroughs, unless they fix them and make the stuff less annoying to find.

Another dynamic thing that I liked was little things like stopping by to see who’s in prison.  There were several different people with interesting reasons for being there.

I was really happy to find the Salarains again, and another thing I liked is that... all of the species, except for how some people treated the Krogan, felt like a community in this game.  The cultural center was clearly overblown with talking about how peaceful and well everyone got along in the Milky Way, but at the same time it did feel like things were somewhat less segmented in this game.  Everyone’s relief at finding the other species was nice.  

Game bugged and my helmet stayed on through this entire sequence. That was annoying.  

So yeah let’s talk about the Archon.

*yawn*

What? Oh.  Right.

Look, I don’t know if I need another playthrough of the game to “get” the Archon or what.  What I understand is that he’s part of a larger empire of Kett.  But then he went and got obsessed with Remnant tech and now some of the other Kett are mad at him for not doing his job and getting sidetracked with Remnant stuff? Is that right?  

I just really thought that the Archon and the Kett were the weakest part of the game.  At the end of ME1 we had some clear adversaries with some fairly clear motivations.  And I’m jumping ahead here a bit but I figure if you’re reading this far you’re at or near done. But you had Saren and the Geth, indoctrinated and working for The Reapers, who were ancient machines hellbent on tearing down civilization because That’s Just What They Do.  We weren’t sure if they were evil or just machine-like.  No idea where they came from, but we understood them and their overall motivations, and a lot of details were missing, but we got the general gist.  

Okay here’s a good way to explain it.  The first time I played through ME1 I didn’t understand really who Saren was or what he was doing for a long time, and that was fine, it was a mystery to be solved!  But by the end of the game I understood him.  Still didn’t LIKE him, you weren’t supposed to, but I got him.  The second time through ME1 seeing things like him ordering to blow up the beacon on Eden Prime, his whole conversation and freakout with Benezia, lying to the council and making fun of your “dreams”, I got it.  Everything Saren did had a clear motivation that was easily understandable and easy to piece together that came together by the time he died, and unlocked many little “OH!” moments your second time through.

I didn’t feel like that at all with the Archon.   I don’t expect there to be many of those “Oh!” moments as I continue playing through ME:A a second time.  

And when Saren dies, still, you don’t like him, but you can have empathy there.  I didn’t feel any of that with the Archon.

Maybe I missed something.  Maybe I missed a lot, but... I don’t have that same feeling of “getting it” with the Kett, nor the Remnant.  I’m way more ok with not getting the Remnant at this point.  Obviously, this is the first game in what would hopefully be a trilogy, so we’re not going to get all the answers, there’s a lot of setup involved, but I just think that the Kett’s motivations and overall story should be a lot more clear than they are.  

The Archon felt like a shitty villain.  He didn’t feel like a Saren, or a Soverign... just some generic dude messing with our shit for unknown reasons beyond “I like Remnant stuff, and I was here first.”  

Way back in post three in this series, I wrote:

When I was watching this scene (the first time you see the Kett at the end of Habitat Seven) I thought “Someday, I’m going to play through the game a second or tenth time and finally care about this scene and understand its motivations.”  Right now it felt like a generic baddie reveal, there to put forth even more questions.

I mean, yep to that, and now I’ve re-played through that scene on my new game+ and I do understand it’s generic motivations now, but it didn’t give me that same sense of “Oh!” or “Oh man this is so cool knowing what I know now!” like I thought it would.

I mean, let’s be real.  Harbinger was a more well-developed and scary character than the Archon.  And that’s saying something.

This was the part that made me grit my teeth the most, though.

Oh, genetic experiments you say?  Mutating species to fit into your mold to exploit against us you say? Wow, how original.  Nobody had ever thought of that before, especially not in the previous Mass Effect game.

Look, I could roll with it when we found out that the Kett actually were mutated Angara.  I just honestly couldn’t believe that like, literally ME2 was all about kidnapping people (like the Kett kidnap the Angara) to build your army.  We were shocked when the Collectors were the Protheans.  I wasn’t shocked much at all to learn the Kett = the Angarans.  I’d had the thought a couple of times before we found out, in fact.

So then, in ME3 most of what you fought was genetic mutations of yourself and your fellow alien species. And now the Kett are... kidnapping and genetically mutating the Milky Way species?  Did anyone who made this game like, play ME2 and ME3?  Did we travel 600 years into the future to live out basically the same war Shepard did in ME3?

I really, really hope that there’s some big... actual surprise waiting for us in Andromeda 2.  Because I mean... this was kind of bullshit?  I can see it being terrifying and now for Ryder and team.  But for us, the players?  C’mon.  Is the creative well so dry for new enemies that we’re going to just re-design the species we already have a second time?

We’ve got the mysterious ancient species who are no longer around (Prothean/Remnant) and the big threat to the galaxy who kidnaps sentient species to turn them against us. (Reapers/Kett).  I mean, if you think about it, so far there’s not even any reason to think reapers might actually be in Andromeda.  (I don’t think that’s true, but it’s kind of amusing to think that it’s plausible.)

We wanted to feel like we were in the same universe, not that we might be replaying the same games. :v

Eh.

Sorry to get all super negative here in this post, but one complaint kinda lead into the other.  And yeah, my biggest overall problems with Andromeda are here.  The Archon and the Kett feel very generic and just... kinda.. boring.  And re-hashing forced genetic mutations to make you fight your own former allies.

More positive stuff next time!

#mass effect #andromeda #mass effect andromeda #annakie's mass effect stuff

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story)- Chapter Fourteen: Past Perfect

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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Chapter Fourteen: Past Perfect

“I’m not sure I understand.” She glances down at Lana, at her anxious face and the tension lines at the corners of her eyes. “Not that kind of… you did want to, correct? Finding a new fleet captain will be tedious, but if I need to go kill Koth for you-”

“What? Stars, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all.” Though she hasn’t even moved Lana’s hand reaches up, wraps around her wrist as if holding her in place. “No killing. Not Koth, at least.”

“Spoilsport. But then I suppose I still don’t quite follow.”

With a sigh, she lets go, opening her eyes again. “If I knew how to explain, Nine, it wouldn’t have been such a problem. I knew he trusted me after that, and I think that was what I’d been missing. I missed-” she gestures helplessly, her expression softening- “I missed something like this, I suppose. I wanted a friend, not a bed partner.”

(She smiles at that. They are friends, when it comes down to it, not something she ever thought she’d say about a Sith Lord who used to be her boss, the outsider who was handed the gutted corpse of Imperial Intelligence and told to resurrect it as a puppet of the Council. She was used to treating Sith in the same way one would treat a serpent- kept safely at arm’s length, a knife behind your back to take the head off quickly when, inevitably, the fangs came out.

Lana, to put it mildly, had been a surprise.)

“Did you tell him that?”  

“Yes and no.” She sits up, reaching for one of the biscuits still sitting on the forgotten tray. “The next morning I told him it wasn’t going to happen again. He asked if he’d done something wrong, which was ridiculous- it was perfectly nice, honestly, but-”

Nine stops short, her own hand halfway to the plate- they may as well both eat; she’s still starving- and winces. “You didn’t actually use the word ‘nice,’ I hope.”

Shrugging, Lana mumbles around a mouthful of crumbs. “I might have. What’s wrong with nice?”

She oughtn’t laugh- it isn’t funny, except she can picture the face Koth must have made- so she shoves half a sandwich into her mouth and turns away, nominally chewing but mostly composing herself. After a moment, her expression settled back into neutrality, she rotates back to face her. “Let’s put it this way. Imagine you’ve given me a gift, then asked me if I liked it. If I told you I thought it was nice…”

“I’d think you hated it, but you were being polite to spare my- oh.” Lana pales. “Oh, hell.”

“Myself, I used to default to ‘lovely.’ I generally save ‘nice’ for when I still have to be diplomatic but the sex was egregiously bad.”

“I should have said something else.” She flops backward, settling back onto the pillow, covering her eyes with her hands. “I should have said anything else. But it was- I don’t know. It wasn’t him. I-”

In that moment, she thinks she finally understands.

She leans over, smooths a stray piece of hair down over Lana’s forehead. “That just isn’t your kind of lonely at all, is it?”

“No. Not really.” Lana rubs at the bridge of her nose, lets her hands fall to her chest with fingers interlaced. “On Korriban it was an advantage, if anything. I saw too many other acolytes die at lovers’ hands to have any interest in romance, and frankly I preferred the library.”

“I can imagine. I had a few bad breakups in my own school days, and unlike you we weren’t being actively encouraged to kill each other.”

Lana laughs, a little, at that. “Yes, well, there was that. But then, even later-” she shrugs again. “I’m really quite fond of Koth, despite his obstinacy, and in the moment I thought perhaps… but nothing. Always nothing. And I couldn’t make him understand. He still thought it was him.”

If there’s a right way to respond to that she’s not sure what it is. I’m sorry seems wrong, somehow, placating the wrong part of the problem assuming it was ever really a problem at all, which isn’t for her to say. Instead, she lets the quiet settle around them, the only noises their breath and the occasional shout from the corridor beyond her closed door.

“You weren’t even in the records,” Lana says after a few minutes of silence. “It didn’t even matter, in the end, everything we’d done on Arron Prime. You weren’t in prison. We still had no idea where you were, whether you were alive or dead, and Koth started second-guessing the whole thing once he’d realized you were the woman who’d allegedly killed the Immortal Emperor.”

“I wish I had. Shot him clean through the heart, not that he has one-”

(Now, now, he says inside her head, and her temples throb with pressure like a tightening vise, that’s a terrible thing to say.)

She hisses- ah, that hurts; Lana tenses and sits up again, one hand on her shoulder. “Was that him? I could feel it, I think.”

“Yes.” She thinks of walls, solid walls made of stone and steel and wound around with thorns as long as her hand, until she feels his presence retreat from her conscious mind. “He tends to like to interject his opinion when he’s the topic of conversation.”

“Senya, Sana-Rae and I are still looking at possible solutions. There was a Dark Council member who might have been of help- Darth Nox was her name, and by all accounts she was a master at spirit binding, but the war took her. I haven’t heard from her in years.” A pause, then, a finger brushing above her upper lip. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“That’s the usual outcome. Beats a lightsaber through the gut, I suppose.” She vaults over the back of the couch, crossing  the room to the ‘fresher and grabbing a clean cloth off the towel bar, presses it to her nose and pinches, hard, across the bridge. “It’ll stop in a minute or two.”

Lana rises, too, reaching out. “Here. May I?“

“Thought you weren’t a healer.” She leans in anyway, toward her outstretched hands, and a faint warmth blossoms across her face as Lana concentrates.

“I’m diversifying. Someone’s got to keep the rest of you alive,” she says, “and the techniques are fascinating, actually. The different applications of energy-”  

Her eyes glaze over about ten seconds in; Lana could go on for ages about the Force, and it probably is really interesting stuff except that she doesn’t understand a single word of it, like listening to Watcher Two discuss algorithms or Doctor Lokin break down chemical formulae. She can feel the flow of blood slowing, though, so she’ll take the lecture.

“-but the Zakuulan philosophy suggests that- I’m talking too much and you’re going cross-eyed. Sorry.” She pulls her hands away. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you.” Wadding up the cloth after wiping away a few stray drops of blood, she throws it back through the open door to the refresher. “It’s a shame Koth didn’t see this. It might finally convince him that the Emperor isn’t what he believes.”

“I doubt very much that it would be enough.”

Something in Lana’s voice makes her turn around; when she does, Lana’s still standing on the far side of the couch, her hands clenched tight.

“We fought constantly in the weeks after Arron Prime- about you, about Arcann, about what our next steps should be, about everything except what we were actually fighting about. Vitiate, especially. Always Vitiate, Valkorion, however you want to call him. Even when we thought he was gone for good, damn him, he still ruined everything.”

She comes back around beside her, rummages under the little table for the bottle she’s pretty sure ended up there last night (she knows they didn’t finish the whole thing, she and Theron, before their attention turned elsewhere) until her fingers close around its neck.

“That was my second mistake. I thought if I showed him,” Lana looks at her, grabs the bottle from her hand, pulls the cork and takes a long sip before she can reach for a glass- she never does that, not ever- “if I showed Koth the terrible things Vitiate had done, I could make him see.”

“Lana.” She knows in her gut what the answer’s going to be. Of all the terrible things the Emperor did there is one that they cannot forget, one place where they stood and watched a world die, but she needs to hear her say it. “Lana, what did you do?”

It’s almost a laugh, but for the way it pitches upward at the end. “I took him to Ziost.”

“And-”

“Have you been back to the surface? Since it happened?”

“Yes. Once. Never again.”

Lana takes another long sip from the bottle, then hands it back to her. “You know, then, what it’s like.”

“Yes.” She needs a drink, too, to wash out the memory. Thankfully, it’s only half-gone. “Koth didn’t take it well, I assume.”

“He refused to speak to me for three days. We were halfway back to Asylum before he’d even look at me. As I said, I’m not sure he’s quite forgiven me even now, and on some level… you’ve hear him. He still doesn’t quite believe it was real.”

“But he stayed. Koth’s deserted once already-” Lana raises a hand to object that that, but she waves her down- “not that it wasn’t warranted, but the point stands. If he hadn’t believed in what you were doing, Emperor or no, he’d be gone by now.”

“I suppose, but-”

Her holotransmitter, set up on the table in the far corner, starts to ring, and she turns to check the display; she hasn’t got any meetings tonight, as far as she can remember, but in their ever-growing Alliance there are always a hundred fires to put out and some burn hot, even in the middle of the night.

Incoming call: Theron Shan.

Lana peeks over her shoulder at the call display. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Commander. I’ll just-”

“Oh, sit down, would you? Unless it’s an emergency he can wait- transmitter, answer call- and if you call me Commander again I will give you the longest title that I can think of and insist that every single person on this base use it in its entirety every time they so much as mention your name.”

The holo flickers to life. Theron’s sitting in what looks to be the pilot’s chair of his shuttle, feet propped up on the instrument panel and arms folded across his chest, and to judge by the wrinkles across his forehead he’s desperately trying not to laugh. “Hey, you. And Lana, I’m guessing. No one else hates titles that much.”

“Hello, Theron.” Sinking back into the corner of the couch, surrounded by a pile of pillows, Lana waves backward over her shoulder at the transmitter camera.

He quirks an eyebrow; she passes the bottle into her left hand, raising her right index finger to her lips, and he nods, spelling out a question. Koth?

She inclines her head to the right- later. “Hey, yourself. Is something the matter, or did you just miss me?”

“Mostly the latter.” He grins. “And much as I like Tee-Seven, I can only listen to binary for so long. Nothing wrong, just a few contact updates a little too sensitive to write down. But those can wait if I’m interrupting.”

“I’ve got the hour set aside as designated ‘drink and discuss the many ways in which men are inferior’ time, sorry. No boys allowed.”

At that, Lana reaches across to steal the bottle back.

“Really, though,” she says, “are you on your way to bed? I can ring back later, or in the morning-”

“Oh, I’ll be awake.” Theron stretches, arms over his head, as the astromech wheels by in the background with a cheerful chirrup of greeting. “I never sleep well shipboard. If I’m not paying attention just keep calling until I pick up.”

Should’ve taken me with you, she signs where Lana can’t see. Your fault for traveling alone.  

He smirks.

“I will. Talk to you soon, then.” Careful, neutral words, for others’ ears. Always careful.

“Yup.” The channel clicks off.

Lana chuckles. “I really should learn smugglers’ cant. I always feel as though you’re talking about me.”

“We weren’t.” It’s mostly not a lie, and she won’t tell Theron everything in any case- some things aren’t meant to be shared. “Just teasing him a bit, is all.”

“It’s funny, really. The first time you two met, on Manaan, I was sure you loathed each other.”

“Oh, we did.” She sits back down beside her, laughing. “We actually talked about that once. I believe the consensus was that he thought I was entirely amoral and completely incapable of being serious and I thought he was a humorless prude. Cute, but humorless: standard SIS field operative. They’re fun to play with, until one gets bored.”

With a toss of her head, Lana runs her fingers through her hair, working out the last few plaits. “It did rather remind me of a cat toying with a mouse. What happened in between, though? By Yavin he hated me for what happened on Rishi, but as you’ll recall-” her cheeks flush, ever so slightly- “I know more than I care to of what happened between the two of you. You can’t expect me to believe all of that was play.”

“Serves you right for reading my mind. But no, it wasn’t- only at first, and even then not all of it.” She grins at the memory. “Honestly? I flirted with Theron because I thought it’d piss you off.”

***

15 ATC. Manaan.

This was a stupid idea, she thinks to herself. This was a really stupid idea.  

When Lana called her the last time, she should have said no. This isn’t Intelligence, not anymore, where she had to jump every time some self-important Sith Lord snapped her fingers, but she hates being made a fool of and she has to admit it’s looking more and more like Darok and Arkous played them all like a Void-damned orchestra. She still can’t figure out why, either. She’s got no idea what their end game is and it’s driving her crazy.

So when Lana called, she answered, following her all the way to Manaan. Apparently they’ve got an ally now; she won’t tell her who it is, which is both annoying and worrisome. With no name she couldn’t pull a dossier before arriving. It could be anyone. It could be a Jedi.

It had better not be a Jedi.

Not that it matters now. She let Jakarro kill the scientist- all the files they need will be on the lab terminal anyway, and hopefully it’ll keep the Wookiee from ripping her arms off before they can make it back to the surface- but that kept them occupied just long enough to let her quarry escape. As she watches, their submersible pulls away from the docking tube, taking off toward the surface and-

“Um, boss?” Kaliyo points toward the door they came through, now sealed shut behind them, as a half-dozen explosions rock the station and freezing water pours in through a crack in one of the viewports. “I can’t swim. Thought now might be a good time to mention that.”

Shit.

There must be escape pods, but she doesn’t have a map of the facility either. “Lana?” She opens the channel as they run toward the far passage. “I need an exit, and you need to pull as much intel off the network here as fast as you can. They bugged out and blew the seals.”

“I’m sending a shuttle down your way.” A voice in her ear, definitely not Lana. Definitely male, Coruscanti accent. Not Imperial. “Keep heading down that hallway toward the cargo bay. It’s about ten minutes out, but you should have time.”

“This is a private channel,” she says, ducking back around a corner as two of Gorima’s engineered soldiers launch a volley of rifle fire in her direction. “If you’re there with Lana, put her on. Otherwise, get the fuck off my line.”

“She’s here. But she’s meditating, trying to track Darok and Arkous. I’m working on that data-” the accent’s not entirely Coruscanti, now that she’s heard a little more; there’s a softness to the consonants, less emphasis on the hard k. Whoever he is, she’d guess he was raised elsewhere- “but I’ll try to talk you through at the same time.“

The water here’s already up to her ankles, freezing cold even through boots and thick socks, and as they run she catches a whiff of wet fur as Jakarro charges past her into the next room. “You must be the mysterious ally, then. Do you have a name, mysterious ally?”  

“We’ll do names topside. Too many potential ears.”

“We do know how to secure a channel, you know.”

He snorts. “Maybe, maybe not. Once you cross this room there’s one more hallway before the cargo bay. I’ll- um. Hang on. There’s something-” the channel cuts out for a second.

Kaliyo looks at her. “That doesn’t sound good.”

She hands her an extra stim, an extra kolto syringe, and her last two grenades. “Let the Wookiee take point. If it gets that bad, run for the docking tube.”

Before Kaliyo answers, Mysterious Ally’s in her ear again. “Gorima had a pet project- a cyborg prototype. Shielded. It’s loose in the cargo bay.”

“Can we bypass? Dock the shuttle somewhere else.”

“There isn’t anywhere else.”

She sighs, ducking as a dead Selkath goes flying overhead. “I’m not equipped for cyborgs. I was expecting a Sith and a meat shield.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, “Lana said you were tough.”

(now that is disappointing, hunter says.

she’s curled up on the floor of the nar shaddaa safehouse, hunter called her back after hoth- she thought it was just to get her away from temple, to threaten her again, but that wasn’t it. she doesn’t know what was in the syringe; it could have been glitterstim or etching acid and she would have had to stick it in her arm anyway when hunter told her to. her nerve endings burn and it hurts it hurts it hurts and-

one finger up the back of her neck. it feels like her skin’s splitting. i thought you were tough.)

“You-” the doors to Cargo slide open and it’s standing in the center of the room, easily ten feet tall and studded with metal where it isn’t armored which is almost everywhere; that is the biggest Selkath she’s ever seen- “have no fucking idea.”

Five minutes until compression failure. The synthesized voice rings through the overhead speakers. Five minutes until compression failure. Please proceed to the nearest escape pod for immediate evacuation.

She kills the creature in three.

The decontamination jets helped, to be fair, but dead’s dead and dead and on fire’s better. She lets Kaliyo patch up Jakarro as she activates the console beside the docking chamber. “Alright, Mysterious. Where’s my shuttle?”

“Docking now. Hold on.”

The projector activates, and- oh. He’s cute.

“Well. Hello, ‘pub.” Not a Jedi, but there’s no mistaking it, looking at him- dark hair and eyes, tanned skin above a leather jacket that definitely isn’t standard-issue and cranial implants that definitely are - SIS. She’d bet good credits he’s SIS. She licks her lips. “Now I see why Lana’s been keeping you all to herself.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. I’m with the Republic. I’m also saving you. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, no. I can play nice.”

“Good. Door should be opening-” as he says it, the seals hiss and the panels slide open, revealing a little shuttle beyond- “now.”

“Looks cozy.” She signals, waving her team onward. “And here I was just thinking it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to ride anything Republic-issue.”

Oh, he’s a blusher. This is going to be delightful. “Oh, for-”

She hangs up on him. Time to go.

(Was that really what you said? Lana buries her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with laughter. He did look flustered when I came out of meditation.

She tries, unsuccessfully, to look innocent.)

By the time they get back to the meeting room she’s gotten the water out of her boots and most of the blood off her face, and rearranged her hair to cover the scorched bits.

“Everyone, this is Jakarro, our new friend and import/export specialist, and his colleague C2-D4, formerly of Onderon. Jakarro, Cee-Two, this is Lana Beniko-” Lana, polite, nods her head- “and Mysterious Ally who won’t tell me his name except in person.”

He’s got his nose buried in a datapad, but at least he looks up when she speaks. “Theron Shan, Republic SIS. Hi.”

She knew it . “Hello, Theron Shan. Lana, have you introduced me?”

“I thought I’d let you do the honors.”  

“I see.” She turns toward him with a mocking little bow as he looks her up and down, tracks his eyes as they flick toward her weapons, her armor, lingering on her face. “Cipher Nine, formerly of Imperial Intelligence. I do hope my reputation precedes me.”

To his credit, he only goes a little pale. Good. “I hear Imperial Intelligence isn’t much to speak of these days.”

“We got tired of winning all the time, so we figured we’d let you see what it feels like for once.” She shrugs, her smile wide. “It was getting boring, really.”

“And we will all,” Lana sighs irritably, “be working together for the near future, so if you would please keep the sniping to a minimum-”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” She winks at him. “We’re only playing, aren’t we, Theron?”

He looks back down at his datapad as Lana, eyes narrowed, mouths a single word in her direction- Behave.

(I seem to recall hearing that a lot, that year, she says.

Well, you did deserve it. She curls into the cushions as Lana ruffles her hair. I suppose I did.)

***

Up next- Legacies, in which Rakata Prime is a learning experience, going to ground is less fun than it used to be, and Nine gets a taste of her own medicine as our flashback continues.

#inyri writes #equivalent exchange #cipher nine #theron shan #imperial agent/theron shan #swtor fanfiction

[greyias]

FIC: By the Guidance of Stars - Chapter 7

Title: By the Guidance of Stars Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T (this chapter) Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Humor Synopsis: The Coalition tries to heal in the aftermath of the Battle of Yavin 4, but not every wound is physical. A series of missing scenes set during the end of Shadow of Revan. Warnings: See Chapter 1. Author’s Note: This is the chapter that I nicknamed “The Jakarro Sutra”. I am so, so sorry.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Crossposted to AO3

The crackle of the campfire provided a counterpoint to the distant buzz and chirp of the jungle nightlife. A soft murmur of conversation had gone up around camp as the coalition settled into what was likely the last evening meal before they all went their separate ways. The mood was decidedly less celebratory than earlier in the day, likely due to the fact that those they were breaking bread with today they might be exchanging blaster fire with the next time they met.

The Coalition’s two leaders were taking their evening meal over at the operations center, in clear view of the whole camp. A token contingency of troopers from both factions ringed the platforms, but Satele and Marr were seated close enough so they could talk in relative privacy. Making a show of solidarity for the troops, but probably discussing the difficult road that would lie ahead, both politically and otherwise.

Lana was not gathered around this campfire, but instead Theron had spotted her in a tent with several people that he could tell had once been with Imperial Intelligence. It had piqued his interest, but he hadn’t thought of an easy way to listen in without being caught and risking fracturing the Coalition’s trust. So he’d grudgingly marched on, and had wound up taking a seat next to Jakarro in the large group that had gathered together.

If nothing else, it was a clear indication that the intelligence community within the Empire would be experiencing a resurgence in the wake of the Revanite Crisis. They were going to need to get someone on the inside, which would be easier if the structure was being rebuilt from the ground up. Just another thing for Theron to add to the laundry list of discussion items with Marcus when he got back to Coruscant.

Apparently the somber mood of their gathering was too much for Doc, who had started to tell a ribald tale of some daring heist he’d pulled off with a lady Rattataki of a dubious nature. Something about the Rattataki’s description was familiar, but Theron really wasn’t in the mood to listen closely enough to whatever yarn was being spun to try and pinpoint exactly what. He pushed the rations around on his plate, trying to work up the will to force more of it down. He couldn’t tell if the fact that it had little to no taste was a good or a bad thing, and eventually he set it down having only consumed maybe half of it. 

“No wonder you’re so puny, Theron,” Jakarro rumbled next to him in Shyriiwook, “if you don’t even finish these measly rations.”

“Some of us just have more refined palates.”

“A Wookiee never leaves a plate unfinished.”

“If you’re still hungry help yourself.” He waved a hand at the half-finished plate. “I’ve had all I can stomach.”

Jakarro immediately scooped up the plate and began to shove large forkfuls in his mouth. Theron shook his head, but wasn’t surprised at this point. The large Wookie had a stomach of steel, and the only thing the spy had seen match his appetite was his capacity to put away drinks. He pitied the next person stupid enough to engage the smuggler in a drinking contest.

Meal finished, Theron let his gaze wander the camp and take in everyone gathered here near the mess. Doc was apparently getting to the particularly racy part of his tale if the raucous laughter indicated anything. He thought he spotted Rusk in the crowd, glaring at his crewmate with clear disdain for the improper decorum. Kira had settled in on the other side of Jakarro, and had struck up a conversation with a private about the same time Doc had decided to break the ice. She’d probably heard this story a few times before, if her exasperated eye roll was any indication. A smattering of both Imperial and Republic forces ringed the campfire, but the remaining three members of The Defender’s crew were absent, including its commander.

He pursed his lips, and tried to decide if he should stick around. He probably should have tried to tackle the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him, courtesy of his reinstatement. His eyes crossed at the mere thought of having to fill in the same information on the fifteen different forms just from the SIS alone. He was looking forward to getting back home, but he was pretty sure he was never going to miss the Republic’s endless bureaucracy and mind numbing busywork.

It was a long enough flight back to Coruscant, the forms could wait another day.

“Kira,” Jakarro growled, “your medic friend is far too boastful. He could use some humility.”

“Really?” Theron asked dubiously. “You’re going to tell someone else that?”

“The Mighty Jakarro only speak the truth!“

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Kira snickered, “he’s had a very trying day.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Theron corrected, “and a very loud day.”

“He’s probably just frustrated,” Jakarro said sagely, although those not versed in the Wookie tongue would have just thought the tone was more of a guttural sigh. “He and my little friend have had no time alone together.”

“I don’t need to spend any time alone with Deefour, thank you very much.”

“Theron, I do not believe my master was referring to me,” the droid corrected oh-so-helpfully, “I believe he was talking about Jedi Master—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Theron cut him off quickly before the droid shouted her name loud enough for the whole camp to hear. Kira burst into laughter, and he speared all three of them with a glare. “Okay, did you guys have a meeting or something about this when I wasn’t looking?”

“Why would we need a meeting?” Jakarro asked. “This is obviously a private matter.”

“Well, thank you, you’re the first to—“

“And as a matter between friends—“

“What is your definition of private?”

“—I know just what’s needed.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Fear not my friend!” Jakarro slung an arm around Theron’s shoulders. “The Mighty Jakarro is a master lover and can help you through this difficult time in your life!”

“Oh no. No, no, no, no!” Theron’s wails of agony were drowned out by Kira’s high-pitched giggles. “My life is fine, just dandy in fact, and for the love of the Force please don’t finish whatever you’re about to say!”

Jakarro, ever the good friend, promptly ignored him. “Now, I know that you are much punier than the Mighty Jakarro, and as such, you won’t be able to match my girth, but you can make up for what you lack in size with stamina!”

Theron could feel his soul trying to leave his body, but unfortunately he stayed tethered to his mortal coil. At the other half of the campfire, the epic tale of Doc and his Rattataki sidekick was still going strong and had the others so enraptured they didn’t notice the spy’s futile attempts to escape his plight. Jakarro still had him trapped in a giant, sweaty Wookie hug, that effectively prevented Theron from digging a hole to the other side of Yavin and avoiding hearing in graphic detail about the more risqué versions of Kashyyyk mating rituals. He’d never known there were so many inventive and lewd uses for trees. Or Kthysh for that matter. And how was that last one Jakarro describing even anatomically possible? And why could Theron not stop picturing it?

“Why are you laughing?” he demanded of Kira. “You’re a Jedi, save me.”

She managed to halt her honking laughter long enough to lay a hand on the Wookiee’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jakarro, that was enlightening. I never knew your people were so… creative.”

“They’re not! I invented half of the techniques I just described,” he clarified, finally releasing Theron so he could cross his arms in triumph.

“Of course,” Kira said.

“Theron,” Deefour chimed in, “I think I see Master Highwind and Lord Scourge over near the guard station. As you're a beginner and there's a lack of sturdy trees around, might I suggest you try The Mighty Jakarro Technique #4, the Motesta Driller—“

“Deefour,” Kira said the droid’s name almost a little too loudly, “you never did finish telling me  how Queen Lina of Onderon handled the negotiation of the Duke’s release after he was captured by the saboteurs.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful story!” Deefour exclaimed.

Jakarro’s eyebrows drew together in an exaggerated expression of pain, and Theron couldn’t help but also flash Kira a look of pure betrayal as well. She returned his look with a significant head tilt to the guard station that had been mentioned. He flicked a quick glance to see the silhouette of Scourge towering over the smaller Jedi Master, and pressed his lips together in a fine line. He gave Kira a quick nod of thanks before he silently slipped away from the campfire.

He wove a slightly circuitous path, taking a few extra moments to reach his quarry. As a whole, not a lot of people were fluent enough in Shyriiwook that anyone listening in had probably even understood half of what Jakarro had said (the lucky bastards), but he decided not to make his destination too obvious just as a matter of precaution. He didn’t really have a set plan in mind of what he was going to do when he got there, like most of his ideas he was more or less just winging it.

“I grow weary with this pointless self-pity you’ve been indulging in,” the Sith growled. “If you continue to wallow in your Jedi failings and tarry here, at this rate the galaxy will be consumed of all life before we even get off this miserable planet.”

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I think even incorporeal beings have to account for travel time. We can take a moment or two to recover.”

“Or wallow as the case may be.”

“As always, Scourge,” Grey ground out, patience audibly tested, “I will take your warnings under consideration.”

“I wouldn’t,” Theron called out, “then again, I’m just contrary like that.”

“Ah, one of our reasons to tarry.”

“Lord Scourge,” Theron greeted, exuding fake civility.

“Agent Shan,” the Sith returned, tone equally polite but somehow also dripping with menace.

Grey glanced between the two of them, eyebrows raised high. “Well, you two are certainly feeling very formal tonight.”

Scourge ignored her. “What brings you out this evening, Agent?”

“Felt like taking a walk,” Theron tossed back, “seeing as it’s so sweltering here in the jungle.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” He looked over at the Jedi, clearly directing the next statement at her. “I heard there’s a nice breeze on edge of the plateau at night. Figured it might be worth a look, and help to escape some of the smothering heat for a while.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, corners of her mouth quirking up in the hints of a smile. “I wouldn’t mind getting a bit of air — if you’re not opposed to having a little company.”

“Not at all. I might get bored if I go alone,” he quipped, “but I wouldn’t want to interrupt you two.”

Scourge made a sound of disbelief, and Grey shot him a stern look. Her next statement was definitely directed at the Sith. “You can’t interrupt a conversation that was already finished.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Theron motioned the winding path through camp that led up to the large platform he had visited earlier.

“Seeing as you’re busy,” Scourge’s voice dripped with disdain, “I’ll head back to the ship and help the droid finish his preflight check. If we’re having visitors this evening, I suppose we should also pick up any clutter.”

She gazed at him placidly. “There’s no clutter on the ship. Seetoo would have a fit if one thing was out of place.”

“Silly me, how could I forget that irritating metal monstrosity?” Scourge muttered as he began to stalk off.

“I would not let him hear you say that,” she warned, “unless you want bland meals for the rest of the month.”

“I wouldn’t know the difference anyway,” Scourge’s snarl was nearly lost to the distance, “seeing as I can’t taste anything.”

“Oh… right.”

She still had a deep set frown in place as she watched her crew mate stride away, although it was unclear if it was due to the Sith’s comments on the protocol droid or the entire conversation in general. If it had anything to do with what Theron had accidentally overheard up on the platform, he really couldn’t fault her for it. However, it was also clear from her conversation with Scourge that she was not in the mood to discuss what was bothering her. 

Perhaps the thing a good friend would do in this instance would be to change the subject, try and take her mind off of things. If their positions were reversed, he would have much preferred distraction to talking. And if the end result was that it chased away that brooding expression and brought back the hints of that sunny smile she’d sometime grace him with, then all the better.

“Cheery fellow,” Theron remarked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“He has a different outlook than most on the world.”

It was possible that mastering the understatement was a common Jedi trait, Theron mused to himself as he led the way down the path towards the platform. “And exactly how do you maintain being such an optimist when exposed to that sunny disposition of his day after day?”

“Optimist?”

“Come on,” he said lightly, “I’ve never met someone so willing to look on the bright side of things as you are.”

“I am just me,” she said with hints of a frown. “I don’t try to see anything but as they are.”

“Of course you don’t,” he shook his head with a wry laugh. “There is no try, huh?”

“Heard that one, have you?”

“Ngani Zho may have mentioned it… a lot.”

She cracked a smile. “Somehow I can see that.”

“Hey,” he said lightly, “some of us were a little more precocious as children.”

She arched a brow. “That statement implies you grew out of it.”

He mock glowered at her, exaggerating the expression so she could tell it was meant as a joke, and the hints of a smile blossomed into a quiet huff of laughter. Theron followed it up by lightly jostling her with his elbow, and the huff turned into a snort.

“Theron Shan! It is not polite to elbow others in the ribs.”

“Hm, I think Master Zho might have mentioned that once or twice too.”

“He sounds like a very wise man. You should listen to him.”

“He was,” Theron corrected gently, and her smile fell a little as she realized the implication. “And I probably should have done a little better job at listening.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly. “It’s been a while.”

“Time can heal many things,” she said with a little more understanding than he was prepared for, “but it doesn’t erase it all the hurt.”

“That’s true.” Theron said, scuffing the ground with his boot on the next few steps. “He was a good man. I try to remember that, do what would make him proud. Not sure I always get there.”

“Was he the one that raised you?”

Theron nodded. “I think you two would have gotten along. He wasn’t always the most traditional of Jedi, but he taught me a lot.”

“He did a good job,” she said warmly.

“How do you figure?”

“You helped the Republic from a conspiracy that would have torn it apart,” she said, “regardless of the personal cost. He would have been proud of you for all of this. I’m sure of it.”

He gave her a small smile. “Well, at least one of us is.”

She frowned at that. “You don’t agree?”

“You and I butted heads a lot over the course of all of this,” Theron pointed out, “and I’m pretty sure that were he here, he would have sided with you.”

“We may not see eye to eye on every decision, Theron,” she said softly, “but I don’t doubt that your heart is in the right place.”

“No?”

“Well, you did just save me from at least another ten minutes of lecturing, and I am very grateful for that.”

“I aim to please.”

“I feel like Scourge would not agree with that. He seemed quite displeased with your arrival.”

“Have you ever seen the man happy?” he asked dubiously.

“Not in the way most people are, no,” she said, “but there are reasons. He’s very… focused on his goal.”

“I noticed.”

“And he thinks I’m preoccupied.”

“People need to mind their own business,” Theron spat. “Hopefully you told him to take a walk.”

“I have. Several times. It’s been a recurring subject.”

“Sounds like my day,” Theron muttered.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” he said quickly.

“Has Scourge been bothering you?”

“Scourge? No.” Well, at least not today.

“But others have.” She pursed her lips. “About what?”

The many conversations over the course of the day surfaced in his mind. Doc. Satele. Kira. Hell, even Jakarro. The memory of the Wookiee’s vivid, salacious descriptions made Theron wince. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

A blond eyebrow arched quizzically. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

“You weren’t there,” he said lightly. “Feel lucky.”

“I would first have to know what you’re talking about to begin with.”

“Let’s just say I know more about Jakarro than I ever wanted to or asked for.”

“Then I will let the subject drop since it’s obviously so painful.” He was pretty sure that was her sarcastic tone.

“Your chivalry is noted.”

“Officially?”

“Unofficially. I decided to leave some of the finer details out of my reports. Professional discretion and all that.”

“I can appreciate the need for some…” she bit her lower lip as if she was trying to hold back a smile, “discretion.”

Theron decided to exercise some at that moment as a rush of heat washed over him. He tucked his hands into his pockets to keep them occupied, and kicked at the weathered pavers at their feet. As they left the main portion of the camp, the thick vegetation thinned as they approached the large landing platform and the crumbling ruins above. The light from the main part of the camp was dim here, and the path was lit with a few lanterns and several glowrods in the weathered torch holders. A few flickers of light from above indicated that the watchtowers posted at the edges of the camp were occupied, but they didn’t do much to illuminate the way.

Grey’s gaze wandered upward, taking in the unobstructed view of the night sky. Wisps of clouds streaked across the darkened sky, illuminated by the twinkling stars just visible around the dark looming red specter of the gas giant of Yavin Prime. The frown lines eased as she traced the visible constellations, and her shoulders relaxed. It almost seemed like a private moment, and Theron felt like he was intruding just by watching, but he couldn’t quite tear his gaze away. Her features looked just a little softer in the starlight, almost ethereal. As he tried to swallow the feeling bubbling up inside of him, she glanced back down at him with the same intensity she had directed to the skies above. Almost as if she were looking at one of her stars that had fallen from its proper place in the night.

It took a extra few moments for his breath to catch back up with him.

“They’re different on every planet, yet somehow still part of the same whole,” she said quietly.

He had to swallow a few times before he found his voice. “Is that so?”

“No matter where we go, they continue to watch us in their ever-changing patterns,” she added, still looking at him with that same starstruck expression. “They’re a bit like the Force in that way. You can use their light to guide you through the night. Or through the black of space.”

“I don’t usually slow down enough to stop and look,” Theron whispered.

“If you have time, you should try, Let the moment breathe into you.” Her face lit up in a bright smile. “It can be very grounding.”

“Says the woman who lives on a spaceship.”

“That’s why I stop to look.”

A few guards were stationed near the landing platform, even though no shuttles were running at this point. They wandered on the edges of the path, and carefully picked their ways up the dark steps leading to the overlook that Theron had found earlier. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, but he still had to be careful of the pits and cracks so he didn’t fall and embarrass himself.

The fabled breeze greeted them up on the platform, gently teasing its fingers through the Jedi’s ponytail. He resisted his urge to run his own hands through it, and continued to guide the way around the massive stone archway, until their view was nothing but the jungle and temple dotted junglescape below. The bright flickers of flame identified the locations of the Massasai villages, but the temples were dark, only illuminated by the stars and reflected light from the gas giant above.

The wind was a little stronger here, almost enough to break the oppressive swelter of the night. He heaved in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. It almost felt like the first real breath he had taken in a long time.

It was strange. He never had really wanted to make any one moment stretch out, but right now he felt the need to try and etch everything into memory. He didn’t want to forget the coolness of the breeze caressing his face, the twilit landscape stretching below, or the warm presence fitting comfortably at his side.

Theron didn’t know when she had gotten that close, how his arm had draped itself across her shoulders without him consciously thinking about it, or at what point her fingers had reached up to intertwine with those curling around her shoulder. Just as he started to look down to comment, he felt her other hand gently cup his chin and guide it upwards to the night sky.

The soft hair of her ponytail tickled his neck as she leaned into him, her head resting right over his heart. He felt a deep twinge in his chest, like a vibroblade being plunged past his ribcage and straight into the deepest part of him. Her weight pressed into him as he inhaled, and something hard and brittle inside of him broke.

He could have said something, but he was enjoying hearing the distant chirps of the nocturnal Ginx. He could have moved, but then he’d have to untangle the fingers barely holding on to his. He could have glanced around to see if there were any observers, but that would mean he would have to look away from the stars.

So instead of doing anything, he just leaned in further, and let the moment breathe into him.

Art by @lumielles (who you should definitely go commission)

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #Theron Shan #Female Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #Jakarro #Kira Carsen #Lord Scourge #otp: adorkable #oc: greyias highwind #SoR Fic O Doom #we have arrived #at the jakarro sutra #*hides face* #and yet this is not the smutty chapter #swtor #fanfic #and just in case tumblr mobile is still acting wonky #long post #greyfic