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anchanted-one · 1 year

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Legend of Lightning 38: The Monster Beneath

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/111096178

Master Nomen Karr’s home, Nar Shaddaa

Jaesa was waiting for them when they arrived. “Master Vajra!” she gushed. “Kira!”

“Hey there!” Kira waved.

“Hope you don’t mind us dropping in to say goodbye,” Master Vajra smiled.

The Alderaanian shook her head furiously. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I’m glad you took the time. Do you want to have some tea? I had fritters on the menu today, but Master Karr and the others had to leave on urgent work.”

“That sounds tempting!” Kira looked pleadingly at her Master, who nodded.

“We do need a break. It’s been hard lately.”

Jaesa blinked. “The kitchen’s this way,” she said. “We can talk as I work.”

She kept an eye on Master Vajra as she led them inside. His eyes… there was something different about them, though she had some difficulty in figuring out what.

“Will you be returning to Tython now?” she asked.

The boy considered, and shrugged his shoulders. “We need a vacation,” he replied. “But not on Tython. Somewhere away, somewhere quiet.”

The tremor in her voice solidified her certainty; something was wrong.

“So, what’s Master Karr up to?” Kira asked. “Or, is that a secret?”

“Not anymore, I guess,” Jaesa wrinkled her nose. “We found the trail of an Imperial spy, here on Nar Shaddaa. Pretty high-ranking one at that. But the enemy realized that we were closing in. The spy was killed before we could get to him. Master Karr wasn’t pleased.”

“Spy games always seem so thrilling to me,” Vajra commented. “Like all those cloaks and daggers, all the intrigue and lies, the probes, the jabs; everything without any of us being the wiser.”

“What we’re doing might count as spy biz,” Kira said. “Especially back on Taris.”

“Taris?” Jaesa blurted. “You were on Taris, of all places? Why?”

“Well—”

“We were trying to locate a Republic scientist who’d gone dark,” Kira explained. “Someone who can understand and counter weapons like the Planet Prison. Or worse.”

“Hard to believe the Empire could just sneak in a Sith Lord into something even the Jedi Council knew nothing about,” Vajra said in a low voice. “And the son of Darth Angral, no less! The Butcher himself! How did they find out about them? How—” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. This has been a rough assignment. One I’m not ready for.” He bit his lip, clearly not wanting to say more.

“To be fair, you watched that footage under your own steam,” Kira said sympathetically. “You should have quit after the first five minutes.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t a secret I want to be let in on?”

“I’d rather not. But it was brutal, not just what Lord Sadic did, but our own people.” There it was again, that look of someone hiding something.

Master Karr had forbidden her from using her Gift without his supervision, but she had to do it. She had to look.

She began frying the fritters as Kira began to talk of inconsequential things, paying her only half her attention. She nodded and chuckled in response to her idle chitchat, her conversation on autopilot.

Master Vajra said something every now and then as well, but she was almost too busy wondering what it was he was hiding to hear him.

She watched impatiently for her opportunity, as they laughed about something Master Kaedan had said, or debated which upgrade was most pressing for their ship, engines or shields, or which toppings worked on pastas.

Nearly forty minutes went by before she got her chance. They were helping her clean up—Kira was cleaning the table, Master Vajra the dishes. They both had their backs to her for at least the next sixty seconds. With a quick inhale, she began activating her special Sight. It was still a lengthy process that required crucial seconds to activate, and seconds longer to see things clearly. But she saw it, a fleeting peek behind a fragile veil. He had a monster inside him, a strange beast like a snake with countless heads. It writhed and hissed, spewing a foul red venom while coiling around his heart. And those heads… those evil, nightmarish heads! One of the heads seemed to notice her presence and snapped at her, making Jaesa screech and stumble.

“Hey! What’s wrong!?” Kira rushed over.

“I-i-it’s nothing!” Jaesa lied. “I just see things sometimes. Happens randomly. I blinked and there was this… this monster—” well, that was part of the truth. Too close to it. “It looked so evil! So hungry!”

“What kind of vision do you think it was?” Master Vajra asked. How had he gotten to her side without her noticing? And she was laser focused on him, too! It was all she could do to not scream again. She mentally thanked Lady Geselle a thousand times for insisting that all her handmaidens were trained in masking their reactions. How could she be normal around him again, now that she knew what lurked behind his kind, young eyes?! “Are you in any danger? Is something coming?”

“I don’t know,” she said as she fought down the rising nausea.

How had she not noticed before? How was it that no one had?! Was the Council blind?

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. His concern looked genuine enough, but she had seen through his façade. He filled a glass with water for her. She accepted it as gracefully as she could. “Let’s get you to bed. We’ll wait till your Master returns.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Jaesa was happy with how steady her voice was now. “I promise, I’ll be fine! It’s just a Vision. I have them a lot. Even my Master doesn’t get too excited over this. It’s for that reason I have to meditate so much, so that I get some control over them.”

Vajra shared a glance with Kira before sighing. “As you wish.”

“You know yourself best,” Kira shrugged. “We’ll stay just a little longer.”

Jaesa nodded mutely. It was better to go along with this than protest. She didn’t want to set off that monster by being too suspicious. She fought down the sob that threatened to make its way out of her lips.

I have to tell Master Karr, she thought to herself. She allowed Kira to pick her up and carry her to her bed. The two Jedi stayed for another ten minutes or so before leaving.

Jaesa promptly leapt out of bed, dashing for the fresher.

“What do you think she saw?” Vajra asked Kira immediately after they’d left the apartment. “I mean… what do you think it meant?”

“That was gonna be my question, boss! You’re the master here, after all.”

“Master Karr might have a better idea,” Vajra said after some thought. “Perhaps I should ask him?”

“That’s a good idea.”

Vajra pressed a few buttons on his comm, then shook his head. “Not accepting my calls.”

“I wonder if he thinks you’re a spam caller, or something” Kira snorted. “Here, I’ll type out a message for you. ‘Hey, Master Karr. This is Kira Carsen, Master Vajra’s apprentice. We dropped in on Jaesa to say our goodbyes, since we were leaving. She offered us tea, and as we were getting ready to leave, she screamed and fell. She looked like she’d had her own ghost killed in front of her. She wouldn’t tell us anything, except that she saw a vision with a monster in it. She’s pretty shaken up; I think she needs your help.’ There!” she said.

“Hopefully, he sees it soon.”

“And hopefully, someone’s willing to clue us into what just happened. I hate mysteries that don’t ever get solved.”

Aboard the Garuda

T7 vigorously welcomed both Jedi back. <Welcome! Report: all systems = operational and running! Ship: Garuda = ready for takeoff!>

“Thanks, T7!” Vajra patted the top of his head.

“Oh, welcome back, Masters!” C2 came out to greet them. “Major Var Suthra called earlier. It sounded urgent.”

“I see. I’ll call him back at once. Anything else? Anything from the Council?”

“Nothing else that requires your attention, Master.”

“Alright then. T7, Kira, let’s see what the Major wants.”

Their call was answered at once. “Ah, there you are!” the Major exclaimed. “I was considering calling you on your personal comms. We have a new development that you need to address right away.”

“A new development?”

“A major tactical advantage just opened up. Admiral Hacklin, one of Angral’s most trusted friends—a term I use loosely—wants to defect.”

“Huh?” Kira’s shock was evident. “Hacklin? Borund Hacklin? No way! That man and Angral go way back! I saw them on Ord Mantell, and they were way too chummy for such a sudden development!”

“Well, according to our resources, Angral was unhinged by his son’s death. Any and all failures related to Jedi Vajra are punished by torture unto death. Apparently, Hacklin failed to secure Sadic’s resources before he went rogue, and he’s now worried for his life.”

“That sounds like a stretch to me,” Kira whispered.

“Still, it’s an opportunity we can’t ignore. He wants to be brought in.”

“What does this have to do with us?” Vajra wanted to know. “I’d have thought anyone running from Angral wouldn’t want to be a hundred parsecs close to me.”

“Not you; Kira. She made an impression on him when they met. He wants her to be the one to bring him in. No more debate, please. Time’s running out. I have every confidence that you’ll be fine with Vajra on your side.”

“Where are we supposed to rendezvous with him?”

“Peragus. It’s an ancient asteroid mining facility. It was destroyed by Darth Scion’s ship years ago, but its atmosphere is still breathable, and its particle fields and landing pads are serviceable.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but getting the Admiral on our side can help us immensely. He might prove instrumental in finding Darth Angral. Even if he doesn’t know where Angral is, he’s certain to have intel on what resources he has at his disposal, and where. If we can cut him off from those, it will deal him a severe blow. The Dark Council isn’t going to help him overtly. If he runs out of resources, he’s dead in the water. Get to Hacklin and bring him to me.”

He saluted, and the holo faded. Vajra asked C2 to get them underway, then turned to Kira.

“You do know this is a trap, don’t you?” she asked him. “I mean, who in their right minds would request a Padawan to bring him in when a rabid kath hound is snapping at his heels? He’s either a deviant, or a fool.” She looked at Vajra, clearly wanting to say more, but unsure of how to say it.

“It’s okay, Kira. You can tell me.”

“I will. Just… give me some time. I’m not mentally prepared yet.”

“Alright.” He stretched his limbs, then looked at a message from the cockpit. “‘Eta: 2 hours?’ That’s just enough time to get some training in.”

Kira followed for a second. “Master… how are you doing?”

“Not too bad,” he lied. “Better than yesterday.” In truth, he was still reliving what he’d seen before. He could hear choked shrieks every now and then, and every beeping piece of equipment nearly made him flinch. He was certain he’d done the right thing, but the cost was almost more than he could bear.

“Good. You need anything, you holler. Got it?”

“Sure thing.”

#star wars #swtor #the old republic #star wars the old republic #fanfic #fanfiction #jedi knight #hero of tython

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greencrusader13 · 4 years

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All Were Innocent Once: Chapter 12 - The Job

This chapter is one in which Cirak’s...tendencies come a bit more out to play, and as such I tweaked the chapter a bit for my audience on FF.net compared to my audience on AO3, since the former has the fic at a rating of T while the other has an M rating. Please keep that in mind when clicking a link to follow. The chapter below is the T-version, so if you want the more risque version go to the story on AO3.

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13118981/12/All-Were-Innocent-Once

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043032/chapters/66526336

Summary: having now been assisted by the bounty hunter Braden and his associate - a Mandalorian by the name of Dekon Arrun - Cirak listens to their proposition, one that might entail a payday unlike any he’s earned before.

“So let me get this straight,” Cirak said, watching the swirling ice cubes in his glass like racers around a track as he flicked his wrist. “You want our help tracking down an infamous criminal who - supposedly - has near unlimited resources, his own private army of paid mercenaries, and is known for being able to vanish without a trace the moment anyone shows up on his doorstep.” He leveled Braden with an inquisitive look as he downed the remainder of his alcohol. “Sounds easy enough. Why can’t you and the wonder-Mando do it?”

Cirak shot a glance towards the Mandalorian as he mentioned him, Braden’s answer fading into the background as he searched. He’d taken to a booth alone at the far side of the cantina, back turned to the ambience it so welcomingly provided. It felt like a small slice of Nar Shaddaa jam-packed into a desert hovel, unclean to the point of pungency and so loud he could barely hear either of his companions when they spoke, not that he paid them much attention anyways. Mere feet away from their table a green-skinned twi’lek woman made her way around center-stage as violet light illuminated her aggressively-sensuous movements. On occasion she’d shed another article of what little clothing she already wore, eliciting a whoop or holler from the patrons, Cirak himself included.

The dancer drew closer, and for the briefest of moments they locked eyes. “You come here often?” she asked in Huttese, her voice barely audible over the din of the music.

“Not often enough,” he responded in kind. “Maybe I should start, if the desert really holds such beauty.” Cirak flashed a rakish smile and raised his glass to her.

She winked, and then returned to her dance.

Grinning, Cirak turned his gaze back to Dekon, who had now taken apart his blaster on the table, either oblivious or - worse - disinterested by the life around them. Stupid Mando doesn’t know how to have fun, Cirak thought, watching the dancer’s body move around the shimmering pole.

Taelros snapped his fingers in front of Cirak’s face, breaking him from the trance. “Kid, when you ask for clarification, don’t let your ears wander with your eyes. These gals aren’t anything you wouldn’t find anywhere else in the galaxy, and with the right job you could buy yourself a hundred dances. Now pay attention: there’s credits to be earned.”

“It’s alright Tael,” Braden said, raising a calming hand. “We’ve all been young before. Although-” he leveled a stern look at Cirak- “Bounty hunters who let themselves think with anything other than their heads tend to not last very long in the business. Keep that in mind.”

“Braden, you have no idea how often this kid thinks with just his blaster, if you follow my understanding. A few years back on Onderon-”

“Stars not this again.”

Taelros took a drink and waved Cirak off. “It’s a fun story, but we shouldn’t get sidetracked any longer. Not when there’s credits to be earned. To save Braden the time of recapping, in short, Cirak, too many hostiles for a two man job, too closely guarded for something requiring precision. And we have more resources than them, what with Meruna and Deim making up for what they lack in specialized roles. We’ll hit hard and hit fast before he can flee and vanish again.”

“Rell Syrn rarely ever sticks around for very long in one place for very long,” Braden continued, “He tends to avoid drawing attention to himself. Keeps away from personally conducting business on overly-populated planets like Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa and sends agents whenever he can. Has a pleasure yacht that nobody ever boards and that he very rarely ever leaves, which he keeps floating around various moons around the galaxy for short spans of time. Never the same one twice. Has a hobby for trophy hunting large game, which is when we’re gonna hit him.” He reached into his pocket and produced a holomap, which he displayed on the table. “He’ll be heading to Cholganna next.”

Cirak leaned in closer, studying the forest planet. “So...what, he’s gonna hunt Nexu? Hardly a unique hobby.”

Braden shook his head. “Cholganna has an indigineous population that’s not yet achieved spaceflight. Separate tribes and whatnot. Hardly capable of resisting blasterfire or more advanced toys.” He pursed his lips, allowing his expression to tell the rest.

“Ah. So he’s scum.”

“Pretty much, but that’s not why we’re getting paid to take him down,” Taelros said.

“Last week some corsairs under his employ struck an Imperial stealth cruiser. Usual raid and whatnot, except they found something on there that the Imps want back. Badly. Some sort of information they were carrying really wasn’t supposed to fall into anyone else’s hands. And he recognizes it too; supposedly he killed all the corsairs who were on the raid just to keep it from leaking out. They don’t want him alive. Dead only, six million credits.”

Cirak’s eyes bulged at the bounty value, and he gagged on his drink. He wiped the spillage from his lips with the back of his hand. “I’m kriffing sorry, how much?”

“Six million, kid. Split six ways is a million for each of us.” Taelros smirked. “Now aren’t you glad you’re listening to me and not oogling some dancer?”

“Don’t blame me for knowing how to spend a good time, unlike Mando-boy over there.” Cirak pointed back at the Mandalorian’s booth with his thumb.

Braden’s gaze drifted over to where Dekon sat. “You ever heard of the Great Hunt, Kiht?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“It started out as a Mandalorian tradition out on Dxun, but has since opened up to any interested bounty hunters in the galaxy. You’re given the hardest contracts, the most dangerous of the dangerous, and have to hunt them down. At the end a Grand Champion is determined the winner. Rumor has it that Mandalore is considering holding another one soon.” Braden pointed at Dekon, who was just finishing loading a blaster pistol. “That man right there is the next Grand Champion, I guarantee it.”

Cirak shrugged, grimacing. “He doesn’t seem like all that to me.”

“He has hunter’s instincts like nothing I’ve ever seen. Brains just as much as brawn. I’d bet credits on him to take down a rancor with just his fists if the wager came up.”

“Then why doesn’t he just do this himself?”

Braden took a drink. “Like I said, this job has accentuated circumstances.”

“You sure it isn’t a trap? This job I mean. If the Imps want this data so badly, and it’s this valuable, what’s stopping them from just offing us once it’s done?”

Taelros shrugged. “We can burn that bridge when we get to it. Meanwhile, if we get this done right, and if we don’t get double-crossed, we’ll have good friends in the Galactic Empire, plus some cash for spending.”

Cash for spending felt almost like an insulting understatement. During all his years since joining Taelros’ crew, he’d never been a part of a job that held such a vast reward. Most of their contractors were petty crime lords wanting a rival dealt with, or some local government putting a warrant out on someone too dangerous for their own people to handle. On a rare occasion they’d get a contract from a Hutt, but those situations were far and few between. Even then, most of their earnings just went right back to The Reaper’s Prophet for upkeep, or towards their own resupplying for future jobs. By the time things were said and done, he had little money of his own for spending. When he did…

Cirak nodded towards Taelros. “Was the contact at the spaceport, the one for Woth?”

“Yeah, he was, and I’ve forwarded your credits to your account. Already did the deductions for you this time. Go do your thing.”

“What’s this?” asked Braden.

“It’s nothing. Not worth-”

Before he could finish speaking, cheers erupted from across the cantina again. He looked up in time to see the dancer twirl one final time in a rush of silver and scarlet cloth. She bowed, and then strode confidently back behind a curtain on the stage’s end.

Cirak smirked. “I’ll be outside. As wonderful as the sights are in here, I think I might get too distracted when the next one hits the stage.”

“You do that kid,” Taelros said, rising to his feet simultaneously with Cirak. “Braden and I will finish loading up the ship, get her spaceworthy by tomorrow. Might even try to pick up a few more bounties while we’re here.” He shoved a stern-yet-playful finger into Cirak’s chest. “Have your fun, but make sure you’re aboard before we take off. I don’t want a repeat of Chandrila.”

“For the record Tael, you’re the one who took off without checking if I was on board.” Cirak yelled back as he turned, waving a playful farewell as he moved across the cantina. “And it was worth it! You wouldn’t have wanted that noise on the ship!” From the corner of his eye he saw the Mando turn towards the noise, his unseen eyes watching Cirak from beneath the helmet. He could only imagine the glare the armored mercenary was shooting at him. Cirak felt his own mood sour at the sight, even amid the music and lights. He pressed on.

Once outside, Cirak stopped and looked around. Mos Ila had grown quieter as dusk approached. Earlier the streets had been filled with an eclectic mix of all the strange species the galaxy had to offer, bartering and browsing and aimlessly wandering about. Most had returned to their homes; only a small collection of three Jawas remained visible on the block, poking away at some dysfunctional droid they would later take and scrap for parts; it sat there lethargically, seemingly oblivious to its inevitable fate.

Off in the distance a binary sunset colored the sky in hues of orange and violet. It had a sort of contemplative calm to it. Such natural beauty was uncommon on typical adventures, and for a moment it took Cirak by surprise. He could only stare in silence, watching enraptured as they inched closer to the horizon line. Something stirred in his chest, a longing he hadn’t felt for several years

Cirak shook his head and returned to his task, removing his personal holopad from his pack and logging onto the holonet. The banner at the top of the familiar website read “Coruscant Horizons Mutual: Your #1 provider for all your banking needs” in thick black lettering, the skyline of the planet clear in the background. A mixed family stood in the foreground, the human mother holding up her daughter while a Mirialan father stood beside them with his hand on his wife’s shoulder. Typical image crap, meant to deceive the average person into unearned trust, true of any bank. In reality any banker would set fire to that little family if it meant turning more of a profit. He may be the one killing people for money, but at least he was honest about it.

Sure enough, just as Taelros had said, the earnings from their most recent hunt had been transferred into his account, all eight thousand credits-worth. At least a thousand of that would go to armor maintenance, and another thousand for his blaster pack refills. He frowned, staring at his current balance of fourteen thousand credits, soon to be even less. The swoop bike he’d seen on the holonet had been twelve thousand. If he withheld his normal plans he could afford it, barely. The thought egged him on, the bike’s roar calling him like a siren’s song.

He blocked it out with a sigh, and continued on with his usual routine. It would have to be some other time. Cirak tapped the link that read “transfer” and selected the alternate account with the new funds.

“Are you sure you would like to transfer four thousand credits to the account “Tyar’s Savings” Mr. Kiht?”

Cirak tapped “confirm” and leaned back. He wasn’t even sure if Jedi were allowed banking accounts, or if their life of monasticism prevented them from having any personal belongings. They already lead such a restricted life, one that Cirak himself couldn’t imagine living. Perhaps they’d brainwashed him into all of their tenets, maybe he didn’t even remember his own brother, but either way the money would be there for him when he came of age.

He glanced back down at the screen. “Would you like to include a message for this transaction?”

Cirak tensed, then leaned back over his holopad. “Hey kid, hope Jedi training is going well-”

He immediately backspaced. The message sounded dumb, especially for having no contact for the past several years.

“Brother, I hope this message finds you wel-”

Backspace.

“Tyar, I’m sorry I haven’t reached o-”

Backspace.

“Take this kriffing money.”

Backspace.

Cirak sighed, refreshed the page, and then declined to send a message. If Tyar wanted to make contact another time it would be his decision, not Cirak’s. The best he could hope for was that the kid would seek him out when the time came, and that both would still be alive for that reunion.

While his holopad remained open, Cirak decided to check his mail. There was already a confirmation regarding his transfer, complete with a hackneyed thank you message from the bank, which he promptly checked for deletion. He scrolled down, deleting as he went. Most of the messages were junk anyways: advertisements for various weaponry he could find at suppliers around the galaxy, new starfighter models worth checking out, possible clients reaching out to him not realizing that he wasn’t the one who handled the new jobs, etc. One message caught Cirak’s eye, though, from a Zeltron man he’d spent time with on Manaan. The message was flirtatious in nature, requesting that Cirak look him up again if he should even be on that side of the planet again. As sweet as it was that this paramour had taken the time to look him up, Cirak only remembered parts of that night, even if those parts were good and involved drinks and dancing. He deleted that piece of mail too.

Tucking his holopad away, Cirak made his way back to the cantina. A new dancer - some human woman with blonde hair and tanned skin - had taken the stage while a fresh series of beats accentuated her steps. Tael and Braden were both gone, their seats taken by a pair of faces Cirak had seen earlier at the bar who now had their holopads out, burning credits that flickered onto the stage and floated down around the dancer as they were spent. Some thugs pushed each other in front of the bar, attracting the attention of a weequay bouncer, whose approach turned them docile once more and retreated back to their seats.

And still the Mandalorian sat in his corner booth with his back to the action, the contents of his own pack strewn out on the table.

Cirak took a seat across from him, waving down a waitress as he did. The Mandalorian didn’t even bother to look up from his assortment of junk, instead continuing to wipe at his rifle with unwavering devotion. There were at least five blaster rifle packs on the table, along with three hunting vibroblades, a thermal detonator, and various blaster parts.

“You know, in most cantinas you can get thrown out for this kind of weaponry being out in the open,” Cirak said. The Mandalorian said nothing in response, not even so much as an acknowledging grunt. “Come on, you can do maintenance when you’re on the ship. You’re missing out on the fun right now.”

The Mandalorian looked up for a moment, then turned his head back towards the dancer. “Not my idea of fun.”

“Of course it isn’t. You Mandos don’t have a concept of fun.”

“I’m focused on what’s ahead of me. The hunt. The fact that I’m focusing on that instead of skirt-chasing is what’s going to keep me around much longer than you.” He slammed a pack into his rifle and then set it on the table.

Cirak rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter how much focus you have when things can go kriffing sideways on any given job. Might as well enjoy life while you’re living it, or else when will you?”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “Mir’osik. Short-sighted.”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, so don’t bother.”

“That you don’t speak it is the point.”

“Look,” Cirak said, leaning over the table, “I’m not any happier about working with you on this than you are, but it looks like we’re going to be stuck together for awhile, so can you cool it before I feel like putting a blaster bolt through your skull? After this job’s done we can go our separate ways, forget the other exists, and maybe, if we’re lucky, we can wind up shooting at each other on some later job when we’re on opposite sides. Okay?”

The crimson helmet twitched, and Cirak could feel the heat of the Mandalorian’s glare from underneath it. “Let’s not forget that you insulted me first when you insulted my people,” his voice crackled.

“And your people massacred mine generations ago.”

“You see history only through the lens supplied by the Republic and the remnants of your species. That you are descended from people who survived mine should fill you with pride. It speaks that you have a survivor’s soul.”

Cirak opened his mouth to speak, but found himself without words. While he found the words themselves insensitive, there was resembling complete sincerity in Dekon’s words. Without the genocidal context, it bordered on being a compliment, however harsh the tone might’ve been.

He shook his head. “Look, I didn’t want to spend my evening arguing with a warmonger. I-”

Sounds of conflict drew his attention away from his soon-to-be associate and towards the bar. The previous dancer - now clad in a more modest lounge robe - stood across from a group of three armored humans, her arms folded with a drink in hand. From the appearance of their scrappier designs and cavalcade of scars across their face, it was clear that these three were outlaws of some kind, or at least individuals as used to braving the dangers of the galaxy as Cirak was himself. Their leader wore a coy expression as he spoke to the dancer, though there was no amusement in her face, but rather one of annoyance-bordering-contempt. One partner kept a stern eye on the bouncer and a hand on his blaster, while the other seemed equally amused as the ringleader.

“I’ll be back,” Cirak said, rising.

Their words became clearer as Cirak approached. “For the last time that’s not the kind of work I do,” the dancer said, still speaking Huttese.

“Come on baby, just think of it like a different kind of pole, different kind of dance,” the man said, albeit in Basic. “Don’t be such a tease. I’ve been throwing credits at you all night. Isn’t that a good enough deed for some time with you?”

“I said no. I dance, that’s it, and I don’t spend time with people just because they think their credits mean something. Go away and let me enjoy my break in peace.”

He lunged for her wrist. “Aw you don’t have to-”

His sentence ended prematurely as the contents of the dancer’s drink found his face. “Don’t touch me!” she seethed, backing away.

The bouncer started forward, causing the one minion to start for his blaster. Cirak found his own first - his father’s holdout - unholstering it and shooting the thug’s right out of his hand. All eyes in the cantina turned towards him, the atmosphere now tense from the sound of blaster fire. Despite the blasting beats from the speakers around him, the cantina felt dead quiet.

Meanwhile the bouncer searched himself for a blaster wound with apparent wonder that he hadn’t just been shot.

“Now that I have your attention,” Cirak said, “I think you owe this lady an apology. She’s been working hard all night up on that stage, so when she says for you to leave her alone, you do what she says.” He leveled the blaster at the leader as he stepped between them and the dancer, lining the sights right up with the man’s eyes.

The leader looked to his crew, then back to Cirak with a cocked eyebrow. “Do you have any idea who it is you’re talking to? We’re the-”

“Yeah yeah, some idiots who’re feared around these parts. Take what you want, want what you take. Heard it before. Shot them too.”

“We have you three-to-one.”

Cirak glanced between the three men. “I like those odds,” he growled, “I’ll have you all dropped before your buddy there pulls out that other blaster from the back of his pants.”

The group’s leader scoffed and looked back at his men as though this were the most ludicrous thing they’d encountered together. They chuckled along with him and shrugged. Then, at once, they drew.

It all happened in seconds. Cirak brought his blaster down hard on the leader’s nose, shattering it. The man crumpled with a pained grunt, dropping his own weapon in the process, and as he fell Cirak turned his attention to the pair behind him. They couldn’t react fast enough to their leader falling out of the way of their aim, and it took them a moment too long to readjust. Cirak’s first shot found the leftmost one right square in the forehead. He made no sound as he fell, dead instantaneously.

Just as he was taking aim on the third the man another shot rang out, striking the thug in the chest, the force of which sent him careening over the bar counter. Cirak turned. There, still in the booth, sat Dekon of Clan Arrun, still looking through the scope of his blaster rifle. Without a word or even a gesture he set the rifle back down on the table and began cleaning it once more.

The rush of gratitude faded quickly, however, as Cirak turned his attention to the groaning man at his feet. Blood streaked down the thug’s nose and mouth as he looked up with hatred and fear in his eyes. “My men! You shot my men!”

“Career hazard. They should’ve known better.”

“You kriffing alien!”

“You really should know better than to insult a man who’s got a blaster aimed at your brain,” Cirak said. He pulled out his holopad and opened it to the Bounty Hunters’ Guild database. “What’s your name there handsome?”

“I ain’t telling you nothing.”

Cirak pushed his blaster to the man’s forehead. “I can just shoot you now if you’d prefer.”

The man was silent for a few moments longer. “Antelv. Antelv Langot.”

He entered the name into the database and scanned Antelv’s face. Several long seconds passed as it searched for anyone in the trillions of the galactic population who may have angered someone enough to place a bounty on their head, and which planets they were known for frequenting.

No results.

“Well Antelv, seems no one has any strong preference for whether or not you live or die in this unforgiving existence, so I’m gonna let the lady decide.” Cirak looked over to the dancer. “What do you say,” he asked in Huttese, “Lives, or dies?”

“I’m sorry,” Antelv croaked, sending bloody spittle across the cantina floor. “I’m sorry!”

The dancer gave a cursory glance over the pathetic man bleeding in front of her, then nodded to Cirak. “Let him live with the humiliation you’ve shown him.”

Cirak shrugged. “Well, her decision’s final.” Just as a weary smile crept onto Antelv’s face, Cirak brought his blaster down once more on his skull, knocking him out cold. His unconscious form sprawled out onto the floor, and around them people began turning their heads away from the scene. Music took their focus once more, and life returned to the cantina. The bouncer approached, threw Antelv over his shoulder, and then vanished outside.

The dancer took a seat at the bar, draping one of her green lekku over her shoulder. “Thanks for the help,” she said, “Not often we see patrons here who are brave and handsome.”

“Not a problem.” Cirak twirled his blaster, holstering it. “Ordinarily I’d ask if I could take the seat next to you, but given the circumstances…” He glanced down to the bloody puddle by his feet.

“His problem was thinking that credits could control me,” she said, “I dance because it’s fun and I choose who I spend time with because I want to, not because I’m paid.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides he was quite rude, and you’re quite cute. So by all means, take a seat.”

Cirak smirked, taking the stool next to her while looking her over. “Seems he spilled your drink. How about I buy you a new one? The name’s Cirak, Cirak Kiht, and I’d love to get your name too.”

#all were innocent once #awio #my writing #fanfiction #swtor fanfiction #cirak kiht #dekon arrun #cirak #cats #swtor #my swtor #swtor oc #writers on tumblr #star wars: the old republic #star wars fanfiction #star wars oc #bounty hunter

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swtorpadawan · 4 years

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Theron Shan in Absolute Trust

Author's Notes: FYI - This is an older piece written a couple of years ago. The Alliance Commander depicted in the following story is decidedly NOT my OC, Corellan Halcyon, but another JK Outlander. It takes place shortly after Knights of the Eternal Throne.

This is all just between us, right? Strictly our little secret? Good. Because you know I'd hate to have to kill you.

So, go ahead and pull up a chair. I'll buy you a Corellian Brew, and then I'll tell you a story.

People ask me, 'Why stay with the Eternal Alliance?' Oh, sure, back when the Eternal Empire was off subjugating the galaxy, it was easy to see why so many people would jump at the chance to join an organization dedicated to taking it down, especially when most of the really big players had rolled over to it. But why stay afterwards? Now that the war is over, hasn't the Alliance fulfilled its purpose? Shouldn't we all just go back to being Republic, or Empire, or Zakuulan, or whatever?

Well, for me, the answer is simple: Our Commander is the reason I stayed. He's the reason I've believed in the Alliance for as long as I have.

I have a great story to illustrate my point, but first it needs some background on my friend and leader.

Nowadays, people just call him the Commander. So much so that most seem to have forgotten his actual name.

He used to be called 'the Outlander' by the masses, a name Arcann gave him as an insult but that he turned into a title of respect among friends and enemies alike.

Before that? Oh, he had a bunch of other titles. Master Jedi. Hero of Tython. Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. The Conqueror of the Sith Emperor. He held the honorary rank of General in the Galactic Republic. I think he was also a Paladin of House Organa of Alderaan - you know, If you're into that sort of thing. The Gree call him the 'Black Bisector of Coruscant'. (Yeah, I don't know either.) Oh, and a few of our recent Zakuulan recruits quietly call him the 'Dragon of Zakuul' when they think no one can overhear them. There's a story there for another time. The Commander's been a bunch of things over the course of a relatively short life. He's been a Jedi, a soldier, a hero, a Champion of the free galaxy, a rebel, a savior and now finally a peacemaker.

Yeah, it's true – his reputation has always been as a warrior first. And probably the greatest in the galaxy. That's one reason why he's inspired so many martial types – Jedi, Sith, Republic and Imperial Commandos, Mandalorians, heck, even gangsters – to his side. And then keep them there. He wins a lot. I admit, I really do regret not being present for his showdowns with Arcann or Vaylin or Valkorian. What can I say? He needed me someplace else in each case. I do remember his fight against Revan a few years ago, though. A bunch of us fought by his side. Myself, Lana Beniko, Satele Shan - the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Lord Scourge - the Sith Lord who used to be the Emperor's Wrath, Darth Marr - who was basically running the Sith Empire at that point, Shae Vizla - who went on to become Mandalore, Jakarro - this Wookie bounty hunter we had buddied up with – all serious customers. Even with all of us behind him, the Commander – who was still just a Jedi Master at the time - stood out. Watching him in that fight was like nothing else I've seen. There's no way we could have taken down Revan without him. And if anything, he's only become more powerful since then. It's kinda scary when you think about it.

What's that? Who am I? Oh, sorry. Theron Shan, at your service. Former agent of the Galactic Republic's Strategic Information Service (that's "spy" to those of you not in the know), sometime hero and adventurer, now a senior adviser to the Commander of the Eternal Alliance.

But getting back to the Commander - This man has taken blows that would have crushed anyone else. Falling to the dark side, then bouncing back. Losing those years of his life when he was imprisoned in carbonite, knowing most of his friends were missing and maybe even dead, seeing almost everything he'd fought for destroyed in his absence. Then being hounded by the Eternal Empire with just a handful of allies when he finally got free. Then later watching his nascent Alliance being abandoned by the Senate of the very Galactic Republic he had once championed. Watching friends and allies die in the final battles to take down the Eternal Empire, and finally overcoming Valkorion in a battle for his own mind.

I've seen him win so many battles and lose so much along the way, I honestly don't know how he keeps going. But he does. And deep down, I knew he always would.

And I think everyone else in the Alliance pretty much thought the same.

What's that? Am I related to… Oh, kriff, really? Alright, yes, fine. I am the illegitimate son of Master Satele Shan, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order. (Who incidentally was the Commander's boss at the time we met.) Yes, I am a descendant of Bastila Shan, hero of the Jedi Civil War centuries ago. And if the name Revan means anything to you, yeah, I can claim him as an ancestor, too. And heck, why shouldn't we bring up the fact that my father is Jace Malcolm, the Supreme Commander of the Republic military? And that I didn't even meet either of my parents until I was almost thirty? And that my mother apparently went into hiding years ago after the Eternal Empire invaded, and that she didn't even bother to send me a message to tell me she was alright?

Not that I'm, you know, bitter or anything.

Anyway…

The Commander and I, though, we've been through a lot, since well before Zakuul invaded. Heck, we even met a couple of times before that Korriban operation went sideways and eventually led to us meeting Lana and squaring off with Revan. We kept that hush-hush, though. My old bosses at the SIS wouldn't have approved of what we were doing. It's possible my mother wouldn't have been okay with it either. Story for another time.

In all our time together, he never brought up the fact that Satele was my mother. Or that I was raised as a Jedi initiate as a kid before washing out because I didn't have 'the gift' of the Force. Don't tell anyone, particularly him, but I always… really appreciated that.

I don't want to sound like I'm bragging here, but I don't think I'd be totally out of line if I told you I'm probably the Commander's best friend at this point. Nothing touchy-feely, you understand. In my job, I don't place too much stock in terms like that, but it's likely true. There are only two people in the whole Alliance he's known for longer than he's known me, and both of those are members of his old crew, back when he was just a Jedi running around the galaxy with five companions in one small ship. They're both good people, don't get me wrong, but one is an AstroMech droid who talks in beeps and whistles and the other is a drill Sergeant with the personality of a Durasteel wall. So as far as confidantes go, yeah, I feel I'm at the top of his list when it's time to share memories over a beer.

Not that he does that a lot, being a former Jedi, but we have.

Of course, then there's Lana, who is a very special case.

Lana Beniko, the former Minister of Sith Intelligence. Brilliant. Ruthless. Beautiful. Deadly. We'd become partners of convenience years ago when were both on the run during the Revanite Crisis. We worked well together. I respected her. I even liked her. We were friends. Even good friends. But I never forgot that she was a Sith. She and I had a little incident back on Rishii when she let me get captured and tortured by the Order of Revan so she and the Commander could find their base by tracking me down.

I mean, that was a long time ago, so I'm mostly over it.

Mostly.

Anyway, so Lana was the one who freed the Commander from that carbonite prison in the Spire on Zakuul. She searched for him almost non-stop for five years, even after everyone else had given him up for dead. She risked everything to rescue him, convinced that he was the only one who could defeat the Eternal Empire. Since then, she's been totally dedicated to his cause, building the foundation of the Alliance up from nothing and rarely leaving his side, except when he needed her to. Heck, she even chose the location of our headquarters here on Odessen.

Eventually, she and the Commander even started sharing a bunk. So, you know, they're close. Special case, like I said.

(And just for the record, Lana's interest in the Commander as more than just an ally? Totally called it years ago. This was right after that thing on Ziost, when she didn't have the Commander and I killed for not turning a Vitiate-possessed Jedi Master over to her for an 'examination'. Believe me, she didn't hold off for my sake.)

If the Commander was the heart and soul of the Alliance, Lana was the mind. Her intelligence and ruthless determination helped forge a grassroots resistance movement into an organization rivaling the great powers of the galaxy. The Commander consults with her on every major decision.

(Me? I try to be the Alliance's conscience. Hey, don't look at me like that. Someone needed to do it.)

Some of the troops – the few who were with us way back on Yavin years ago – they still call the three of us the Triumvirate. Sounds like a gang of spice dealers of Nar Shadaa, I know. But just between us, I always kind of liked it. A Jedi, a Sith and an SIS Agent. Sounds like the opening of a bad joke.

Instead, we saved the galaxy. More than once.

But here's my story. So, a few months after the Commander took down Valkorian and claimed the Eternal Throne, Lana and I were vetting the application for a potential recruit. We'll call the guy Slade, though you can bet your last credit that it wasn't his real name.

He was ex-Sith Intelligence, one of their 'Watchers'. He had briefly worked for Lana years ago before the Eternal Empire had invaded.

Now I'm a spy by trade myself, but this guy was shifty even for my line of work. Lana was suspicious of him right from the start when he came to us. Said she remembered Slade as being too "old Empire", loyal only to the most powerful Sith within arm's reach. She also assessed that he changed loyalties too fast to be trusted with important assignments. She said he could be insufferably flattering to a superior, and equally arrogant to his subordinates. Lana concluded that it was incredibly suspicious that he was choosing to join us now, and not months before, when the rebellion was in full swing.

I tried playing devil's advocate for a while, but Slade's background check generated too many red flags, including the suspicious shifting of a large amount of credits to his accounts through the Hutt Cartel, but originating elsewhere. We couldn't trace the origin, but when he waffled on his explanations for where the money came from, we both agreed it was best to give him the boot.

Lana and I were escorting Slade to the shuttles with a couple of Alliance troopers – one ex-Republic, the other former Imperial. That's how we try to do it. No restraints; we were still treating him with kid gloves at this point. We were walking past the war room – basically the command center of the whole base – when Slade spots the Commander. He was talking to Hylo Visz, our former celebrity smuggler turned Head of Underworld Logistics for the Alliance. They were probably going on about trade routes, but Hylo is one the few people in the galaxy who can honestly relate with the Commander's experience of having spent a few years frozen in carbonite, only to wake up to a galaxy that looked very different from how they left it. So I guess they did have that much in common, anyway.

Arcann was by his side, too. Yes, it was that Arcann. Valkorian's son, who had seized the Eternal Throne and invaded the rest of the galaxy. The one who had imprisoned the Commander in carbonite for five years, then hunted him and his allies down for months. The one most of us had joined the Alliance to stop in the first place. But when the time came, the Commander barely hesitated to trust that Senya, Arcann's mother, was right that there was good in him. How crazy is that? But then he joined us after being redeemed, helping us stop both Vaylin and Valkorian. Arcann was now one of the Commander's most powerful supporters.

In a private moment, Arcann had once asked the Commander how he had been able to forgive him for everything Arcann had done, both to the Commander and to the rest of the galaxy. The Commander just told him that if he hadn't given Arcann that chance, everything the Commander's life had stood for would have meant nothing.

Yeah, every once in a while, the Commander could be as enigmatic as the most wizened Jedi Master.

Anyway, Slade suddenly makes a break for it, running straight towards the Commander. He was a slippery one to make it as far as he did. Now if we hadn't already been convinced we didn't want him around, the sheer stupidity of making this move right there, right in the heart of the entire Eternal Alliance, would have been enough. Immediately, I drew my blaster and called for Slade to freeze, and our escort leveled their rifles. Six more Alliance members interposed themselves between the intruder and the Commander, ready to give their lives if needed to protect him. Arcann stepped forward as he ignited his lightsaber, wary of this apparent intruder.

Of course, all of that was superfluous when one of the people who had been escorting the target was a highly-motivated Sith.

I could tell Lana was furious that we had let this guy get anywhere close to the Commander. I mean, yeah, we had checked him for weapons and other 'toys' and it's almost impossible to think he could have actually harmed the Commander personally without them. But Lana didn't really care. She reached out with the Force, and next thing you know poor Slade is levitating in the air, grabbing his own throat in pain and desperation. Force-Choke is still part of Lana's repertoire, even if she's embraced the Commander's "tactical restraint" doctrine. She stepped towards him in full-on Sith mode, totally prepared to kill him on the spot. Naturally, by now, everyone's watching this exchange. Between communications staff, analysts, guards and Alliance members just passing through, there must be have been over thirty people watching this guy struggle for his life as Lana approached him. I sighed and holstered my weapon, hoping I wasn't about to have a corpse to cleanup.

Then came the very distinct sound of a throat being cleared, and all those eyes turned. It was the Commander himself. He had stepped forward and was holding up a forestalling hand to Lana. His expression to her was patient; his old Jedi training and discipline still occasionally served him well in his new role. Lana obviously knew that look. She didn't look at all happy, but she reluctantly lowered her arm, releasing Slade. The man fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Arcann and the others stood down, but were still wary.

The Commander stepped towards Slade and helped him to his feet, then he moved back and gave him a few moments to recover. He stood with his hands folded behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart, looking every bit like the rock that the Alliance was built on.

"Mister Slade, was it?" the Commander spoke in a polite but very formal voice. "I'm sorry we won't be working together, but everyone who becomes part of the Alliance has my complete trust." He gestured around the room for effect. "And I'm afraid Lana and Theron have strongly advised against adding you to that list." There was a firmness to his statement that made it clear that this point was not open for discussion.

Slade, apparently, didn't pick up on that.

"But Commander." The little weasel was still recovering his breath, but his nerves were apparently doing fine. "There are things you don't know about these trusted advisors of yours!" he pointed wildly back at Lana.

The Commander didn't budge. He merely raised a questioning eyebrow at the man as people started tensing up, Lana among them.

"For example." His expression became rather smug as his confidence grew. "Did you know that after you fought side-by-side on Yavin, Darth Marr's first assignment for Lana Beniko as Minister of Sith Intelligence was to have her develop a series of tactics the Empire could use to 'neutralize' you specifically if you turned against them? She was planning ways to kill you!"

The entire chamber suddenly turned deathly silent.

"How dare you?!" Lana's voice cut through the room, her face taking on a murderous rage. Her eyes, which had already been glaring intently at Slade, seemed to shift into daggers.

I hadn't known about Slade's revelation, but I was hardly shocked by it. I stepped forward and gently put my hand on Lana's shoulder, just hoping I could keep her from making a bad situation worse. She shrugged the hand off, and then gave me a look that told me that if I were almost anyone else, I'd have lost the hand.

The Commander's eyes never left Slade. He simply raised a hand to forestall Lana from acting again. She just stood there, simmering. This two-bit operative had successfully gotten under her skin.

He hadn't gotten under the Commander's skin, though. The man still hadn't budged an inch at Slade's revelation. In fact, he had never looked away from Slade. Without looking, without even using the Force, I could tell he was appraising the room. Gauging the mood, and finding a solution.

"Well." The Commander's tone of voice was amiable, but the pitch of his voice allowed everyone listening to hear him clearly. "Then I'm very glad she never had the opportunity to use them."

That let a lot of the air out of the chamber. People relaxed just a little bit, some of them visibly exhaling from holding their breaths. There were even a few nervous chuckles from around the room, and Vette, our Twi'lek professional thief turned crack saboteur let out a high-pitched laugh. Lana still looked angry, but she blinked. Slade? He just stood there with his mouth open in disbelief.

Evidently, he had never put together a 'Plan B'.

The Commander finally started moving, pacing around Slade like a Nexu who was trying to decide if the bark rat it was stalking was worth the trouble.

The Commander's voice was level and calm. It was as if he were giving a lightsaber lesson in the training grounds. "But let me tell you another story, Mister Slade. I once met a wise man on Tatooine. To tell you the truth, he was kind of a strange, old hermit. But he taught me a few important things, including the difference between complete trust and absolute trust."

"Complete trust, you see, is what they call it when you trust someone so much that you would still trust them even if they were holding a dagger at your throat."

Here the Commander stopped, smiled and beamed proudly. "I have to tell you, Mr. Slade. The second-best part about my job is that I now have a literal army of people at my back, each of whom I trust completely." Here his arms spread wide, indicating everyone in the chamber. Still, his eyes never left Slade's.

And just like that, all the tension in the room just melted away. Guards stopped clenching their weapons. People swallowed and looked around at each other. A lot of people even smiled proudly. It wasn't just because of all the things the Commander had accomplished; it was because of all the things people hoped he'd achieve in the future. They believed in him. All of them. And knowing he believed in them empowered each of them to do whatever he asked of them.

"Now, absolute trust, on the other hand, is a little bit different." The Commander continued. "Absolute trust is what they call it when you'd still trust someone even after they had just slit your throat and left you to die with your life's blood spilt across the desert sand." He continued to use hand gestures to express the concept.

The former Imperial finally found his voice. "But… that's insane." Slade sputtered.

"No. That's trust." the Commander replied crisply. "And Alliances are built on trust."

He resumed his pacing around Slade. The operative looked like he was getting smaller and smaller the longer he held the Commander's attention.

"The point, Mister Slade, is that in this strange life I've led, I've met four remarkable people whom I trust absolutely." The corners of his lips turned upward for the briefest of moments. "Not counting AstroMech droids, of course." He smiled over at Tee-Seven, the old member of his crew, who rolled forward and returned his comment with a series of beeps.

The Commander turned back to Slade. "Now two of these four people… are lost to me forever." His eyes closed as he inhaled the air, and I could feel the sadness in his voice.

A full moment of silence was observed before he exhaled and his eyes suddenly came open, focused on Slade's and full of intensity.

"The remaining two are now standing at your sides."

I started at that, giving a little glance around. I realized that the two he was talking about were Lana and myself. She realized it, too. I saw her lips part just a little, and her eyes took on this glazed look. For the first time in the encounter, her complete attention was now on the Commander and not Slade.

Because Slade no longer mattered.

There was this enigmatic look the Commander occasionally took on. A look that was decidedly not 'Jedi'. A look that forced me to remember that for nearly a year, Valkorian had inhabited the Commander's mind as a 'back seat driver', and that while the old Emperor might be long gone (finally!), there were some lessons that he might have left behind about leadership, power and loyalty. The Commander's eyes were full of these lessons as he smiled intently on Slade.

"And if anyone needed any additional proof of Lana's loyalty, Mister Slade, then consider this: You are still alive."

I've never seen a man shrink like Slade did just then. There was nothing this weasel, this small fraction of a man, could ever do to even scratch the veneer of either the Commander or the Eternal Alliance. There was silence in the room again. But this time, people weren't nervous or apprehensive. This time, almost everyone seemed to be following the Commander's lead, looking upon Slade as an intruder. An enemy. Someone who had dared to even try to disrupt the Eternal Alliance, and was now being cast out.

For a second there, I thought we'd have to get Slade a new pair of pants.

"But since I'm in a good mood today, I'll let Theron be the one to escort you out." The Commander's smile became marginally kinder, but in a formal, detached way. His tone of voice was somehow intimidating without being threatening as he leaned in and spoke in Slade's ear, still loud enough to be heard. "Go and tell whatever masters you serve that the Eternal Alliance will not fall today."

Then, for almost the first time in the whole encounter, the Commander looked away from Slade, smiling over at me and giving me the nod.

Just like that, it was all over.

I hung back once Slade was restrained and firmly in the hands of our armed escort. I just didn't want to miss the post-credits scene. The Commander gave a confidant smile as he turned and addressed the troops.

"Back to work, everyone. The galaxy isn't going to save itself."

Everyone did just that, and let me tell you, it left them all with a renewed sense of confidence in the Eternal Alliance and what we stood for. Yeah, we all came from different places and had different views of how the galaxy should work. But every one of us believed the Commander was the man to make all that work, and that he'd find a way to win when it came time. Most of these people had endured years of hardship and loss, which was bad enough. Worse still was the uncertainty, particularly for the future.

Now they had something – someone - ensuring that they had a future worth fighting for.

It was only then, with relative privacy, that he turned to Lana with a smile. A different smile than one he gave to me or the troops; one that was just hers. I couldn't help myself. I used the cybernetic implant in my ear to eavesdrop on their exchange. Not a skill I often advertise, but it has its uses

(Hey, i am a spy.).

Lana immediately started to speak. I couldn't see her eyes clearly from this angle, but I didn't need to. She desperately wanted to explain herself. "Commander, I – " she began.

"Shhhh." he gently silenced her, reaching up and caressing her cheek. "I don't question your love. Don't question my trust."

Lana blushed, and if they hadn't been standing in a public area, I imagine she'd have been doing much more.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "And for the record, the time I spend with you is the best part about this job." He grinned. It made him look almost boyish. He'd accomplished more than most people would in ten lifetimes, but for all of that, he wasn't quite thirty.

"Come on." He reached down and took her hand in his. "I'll take you to dinner, and you can tell me all about these special 'tactics'." He seemed positively cheerful now, like the galaxy was finally moving in the right direction.

Lana just smiled, taking his hand and following him out.

Wow, am I right? I mean, who wouldn't walk into a Corellian hell for a man like that?

That's why I've stayed with the Alliance all this time. I'll never have a boss I admire as much as him. Or a friend.

After all, he'd given me his absolute trust.

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

After I put Slade on a shuttle headed for Nar Shadaa, I was walking out of the docking bay area when I ducked into an empty maintenance closet. I quickly unscrewed the control knob on my blaster, then I used a short length of wire from my jacket to connect it to my implant. Neither object was suspicious in and of itself, but combined they did a little bit more than you'd expect. Alliance Headquarters has security measures for this sort of thing, of course, but I designed most of them, so they wouldn't be a problem. Alone and unobserved, I spoke aloud.

"Begin transmission. Scorpion reporting. Slade was a non-starter. Next time, send an asset who's halfway competent, not to mention plausible. The Iokath Gambit remains on schedule. End transmission."

I killed the device, putting the knob back on my blaster and securing the wire between the fibers of my jacket. Then I let out a guilty sigh as I shook my head sadly.

"He's never gonna see it coming."

Hey, I did say this was all just between us, right? Our little secret?

#swtor #swtor writing #swtor fanfiction #theron shan #lana beniko #eternal alliance #i had never posted this here and thought people might like it

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lodane · 4 years

Text

[mod list] Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic - The Sith Lords

I assemled this list for myself and friends/family, but I’m also sharing it with the world in case anyone mods like me and finds this useful. Here’s an excerpt from the convo that sparked this list’s formation as it is...

i have a pretty basic approach to mods for kotor 1&2...

1.) no big cheats (petty stuff -- like slightly beefier stats on armor or something idc, nbd, but i don't install "hack pads," or "skip peragus," things like that)

2.) no weird sex shit. in fact, sometimes i use modesty-mods to combat cringe exploitation.

3.) no heavy-handed mods that disqualify you from using a lot of other mods (so, the massive TSL Restored Content mod is basically off the table, sad to say, sorry... maybe one day i can figure out how to make them all work together) [edit: i have made an exception for TSLRCM, because it’s pretty widely accepted by the community at this point, however this adds SIGNIFICANTLY to the whole install order issue.]

4.) i improve textures on characters, items, effects, skyboxes... but i usually don't mess with super high-res texture replacements of the world/surfaces/deco because 4k textures aren't gonna make KOTOR look THAT much better... however it DOES make your system run like garbage and present more render errors.

5.) gotta be canon (for this game/world) as possible.

- UNOFFICIAL PATCH -

KOTOR 2 Community Patch 1.5.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1280-kotor-2-community-patch/

- BUG FIXES -

Hide Weapons in Animations 🔥 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/53

Darth Malaks Armour https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/9

TSL Jedi Malak Mouth Fix 1.1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1444-tsl-jedi-malak-mouth-fix/

Kotor 1 Texture to Kotor 2 Game Bridge 1.0.0 (note: these textures are the barest necessity, highly suggested even for those that don’t replace textures for quality... but will be overwritten if you load up on HD textures in the latter category) ⚠️ https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1330-kotor-1-texture-to-kotor-2-game-bridge/

JC's Supermodel Fix for K2 1.6 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1141-jcs-supermodel-fix-for-k2/

Maintenance Officer Realistic Reskin 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/165-maintenance-officer-realistic-reskin/

Darth Nihilus Animation Fix Update https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1076

Revan Cutscene Forcepower Fix K2 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/71

Kreia's Fall cutscene (in-game) 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1228-kreias-fall-cutscene-in-game/

- DIALOGUE CHANGES -

Dahnis Flirt Option for Female PC 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1400-dahnis-flirt-option-for-female-pc/

Bao Dur Shield Dialogue Restoration 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1206-bao-dur-shield-dialogue-restoration/

Choose Mira or Hanharr 🔥 https://www.moddb.com/mods/the-sith-lords-restored-content-mod-tslrcm/addons/choose-mira-or-hanharr

- PLAYER HEADMORPHS -

Canonical Jedi Exile 1.2 👩 🔥 (note: this is, personally, my fave headmorph.) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/170-canonical-jedi-exile/

PFHA04 Reskin 👩 (dark brown, contour, lips) https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/74

TOR Ports: Meetra Surik AKA Jedi Exile Female Player Head for TSL 1.0.1 👩 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1646-darth333s-ez-swoop-tsl/

Black Haired PMHC04 👨 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1025

- COMPANION MORPHS & TEXTURES -

Darth Sapien's Presents T3M4 HD 2k 1.00 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/514-darth-sapiens-presents-t3m4-hd-2k/

Darth Sapiens presents: HD 2K Visas Marr 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/519-darth-sapiens-presents-hd-2k-visas-marr/

4k Atton 1.0 (note: only used clothes, resized to 25%) 🗜️ https://deadlystream.com/files/file/441-4k-atton/

Atton Rand with scruff https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/38

Sparkling Mira https://deadlystream.com/files/file/527-sparkling-mira/

TSL Mira Unpoofed 1.0.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1733-tsl-mira-unpoofed/

Mira Shirt Edit https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1075

Player & Party Underwear 2.0 🔥 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/344-player-party-underwear/

- NPC MORPHS & TEXTURES -

Luxa Hair/Body Fix 🔥 (note: INCLUDE outfit change) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/452-luxa-hair-fix/

Darth Sion remake https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/984

Darth Sapiens Presents: HD Darth Nihilus 1.00 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/367-darth-sapiens-presents-hd-darth-nihilus/

TSL Better Male Twi'lek Heads 1.3.1 (note: thin-neck version) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1432-tsl-better-male-twilek-heads/

Malak with Hair (note: this shit’s canon) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/919-malak-with-hair/

- ADDITIONAL ARMORS -

Jedi Journeyman Robes (Luke ROTJ Outfit) 1.0.2 🔥 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1511-jedi-journeyman-robes-luke-rotj-outfit

TSL Bao-Dur's Charged Armor https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/20

TSL Improved Party Outfits 🔥 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/934

Exile Armor (note: greyscaled in photoshop) 🛃 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/4

- MISC MODS -

Party Leveler TSL https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/966

Green Level-Up Icon https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/26

Remote Tells Influence (note: appears to not currently work with TSLRCM) ⚠️ https://www.gamefront.com/games/knights-of-the-old-republic-ii/file/remote-tells-influence

Invisible Headgear 🔥 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/736-invisible-headgear/

Darth333's EZ Swoop [TSL] 1.0.0 (note: players say it does currently work with TSLRCM) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1646-darth333s-ez-swoop-tsl/

- HD TEXTURE UPGRADES -

note: many of these textures overlap and will overwrite one another. i haven’t listed them in any particular order... except the first two. i suggest, if you really want almost every texture in the game to be upgraded, to install them first and let everything else overwrite according to your prefs. if you wanna keep it simple, i suggest just skipping this and the next category (loading screens)

...

*KOTOR 2 UNLIMITED WORLD TEXTURE MOD (note: resized to 25%) 🗜️ https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1062

*Complete Character Overhaul - Ultimate HD Pack (note: resized to 25%) 🗜️ https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1060

High Quality Blasters https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/919

HD Lightsabers https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1013

The IceEclipse Power Textures https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/960

Fire and Ice HD https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/25

HD Foot Locker https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/990

TSL Backdrop Improvements https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/922

Improved Peragus Asteroid Fields 1.2 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/321-improved-peragus-asteroid-fields/

Telos Polar Academy Hangar Skybox 1.0.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1389-telos-polar-academy-hangar-skybox/

High Quality Ravager Backdrop https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/41

High Quality Stars and Nebulas https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/31

Sith Soldier armor retexture https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1037

High Poly Grenades K2 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1001

HD Muzzle Flash https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/991

KotOR 2 Remastered (AI Upscaled) Cutscenes (note: 720p) https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1066

K2 - Upscaled maps 🔥 https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1086

Atris Holocrons https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/949

TSL HD Cockpit Skyboxes 3.1 (High Res TPC) https://deadlystream.com/files/file/931-tsl-hd-cockpit-skyboxes/

More Vibrant Skies 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/156-more-vibrant-skies/

Vurt's Exterior Graphics Overhaul https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1044

Ebon Hawk HD - 4X Upscaled Texture (note: resized to 25%) 🗜️ https://www.nexusmods.com/kotor2/mods/1059

Ebon Hawk Model Fixes 2.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1033-ebon-hawk-model-fixes/

Peragus Administration Level Room Model Fixes 1.0.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1275-peragus-administration-level-room-model-fixes/

Peragus Large Monitor Adjustment 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/317-peragus-large-monitor-adjustment/

[TSL] Animated Computer Panel 1.1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1385-tsl-animated-computer-panel/

Citadel Station Signage 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/308-citadel-station-signage/

Replacement Peragus II Artwork by Trench 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/361-replacement-peragus-ii-artwork-by-trench/

Replacement Texture for Lightning on Malachor V 1.2 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/298-replacement-texture-for-lightning-on-malachor-v/

Peragus Medical Monitors and Computer Panel 1.0.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1375-peragus-medical-monitors-and-computer-panel/

TSL Animated Galaxy Map 4.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/219-tsl-animated-galaxy-map/

- HD LOADING SCREENS -

Replacement Loading Screens for KotOR2: Original Pack (with or without TSLRCM) - Part 1 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1255-replacement-loading-screens-for-kotor2-original-pack-with-or-without-tslrcm-part-1/

Replacement Loading Screens for KotOR2: Original Pack (with or without TSLRCM) - Part 2 1.1 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1256-replacement-loading-screens-for-kotor2-original-pack-with-or-without-tslrcm-part-2/

Replacement Loading Screens for KotOR2: Original Pack (with or without TSLRCM) - Part 3 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1257-replacement-loading-screens-for-kotor2-original-pack-with-or-without-tslrcm-part-3/

Replacement Loading Screens for KotOR2: Add-On Pack (with or without TSLRCM) 1.3 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1253-replacement-loading-screens-for-kotor2-add-on-pack-with-or-without-tslrcm/

Nar Shaddaa Loadscreens (using Sharen Thrawn skybox and with horizontal overlay) 1.0 https://deadlystream.com/files/file/1238-nar-shaddaa-loadscreens-using-sharen-thrawn-skybox-and-with-horizontal-overlay/

- UNOFFICIAL RESTORATIONS -

The Sith Lords Restored Content Mod (TSLRCM) https://www.moddb.com/mods/the-sith-lords-restored-content-mod-tslrcm

Extended Enclave (TSLRCM add-on) https://www.moddb.com/mods/the-sith-lords-restored-content-mod-tslrcm/addons/extended-enclave-tslrcm-add-on

NPC Overhaul Mod (TSLRCM add-on) (note: this is an inane mess to install, tedious AF, and idk if i can say it’s worth it... but i did it and it didn’t break anything) https://www.moddb.com/mods/the-sith-lords-restored-content-mod-tslrcm/addons/npc-overhaul-mod

Party Swap (TSLRCM add-on) 🔥 https://www.moddb.com/mods/partyswap/news/partyswap-133

Coruscant Scene No Overlay (TSLRCM add-on) https://www.moddb.com/mods/the-sith-lords-restored-content-mod-tslrcm/addons/coruscant-scene-no-overlay

#kotor 2 #mod lists

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mandogirl93 · 4 years

Text

KotFE/KotET Headcanon Time!

Tagged by @mimabeann! Thank you so much, and I’m sorry for the mess you’re about to see!

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this one!

1. Starting with basics. Who is your Outlander (which class, what their aligment)? How did they end up being frozen in carbonite for 5 years? Why did you make them the Outlander?

My Outlander is Vargus Organa. He was placed with the Jedi at a very early age, and follows the Jedi Knight story pretty closely, with a couple of extra twists/turns as he runs into the other class characters. He’s a great example of a Jedi, but he does sometimes struggle with the seriousness of what he does. He just views his day as another one for the books, and rarely sees just how much he impacts the events of the story. I think he’s leading every quest line for me except Ziost. He’s there, but he’s supporting Theron and the 6th line while my Imperial crew have all been called in to help Lana and my warrior takes center stage against Vitiate.

2. Now, to the rest of classes. What happens to them during KotFE/ET? Did they know the Outlander? Were they allies, enemies, family? Do they join the Alliance or have something else to do? Do they play a major or a minor role in the story? Spare no detail (if you wish, of course)

Okay, not gonna lie, this is a bit of a mess right now (mainly because I had got my little legendary icon and then deleted all of my toons. So I’m in the process of remaking and remapping… well, everything. But here’s what I’ve got so far!)

Republic

Knight is Vargus. Check.

Consular: Aishne Pashavi is my consular in-game. Aishne is a Mirialan and she follows the typical class story line. Her family were ambassadors on Corellia and she was discovered by the Green Jedi there, and trained with them for a time before landing on Tython. She ends up working closely with Master Gnost-Dural and Naadia on Ossus. (She also never abandoned Felix, her husband. Because of reasons.)

Smuggler: I don’t have one yet. Idk, In my brain, no one can really beat Hylo, and I haven’t made a smuggler that I’ve ever actually kept.

Trooper: Ruvah Khor is my trooper. Light side all the way. She follows orders as best she can, but knows when she can draw a line. Her superiors may not always like that, but they can’t argue with her results. She follows the class story line, and ends up marrying Jorgan. After the Alliance defeats Vaylin, Ruvah and Aric both retire for a few years before being pulled back into the conflict after Ossus.

Imperial

Sith Warrior: Lord Madraxian. Followed the warrior storyline, but took the Emperor abandoning the Empire pretty hard. When Arcann and crew took over, he was almost killed before Vette was able to cut the skytoopers off from following them. He decided to lay low for a bit and wait for an opportunity to strike back at Zakuul. And that is how my cool sith warrior ends up as a scary bodyguard for Gault and Vette. He joins the Alliance when they do, and is able to break out to go save Vette during Vaylin’s assault.

Sith Inquisitor: Darth Imperius/Vi’fan Kallig. He’s a bookworm who just can’t catch a break. He was a slave to a noblewoman on Drommund Kaas, but was sent to Korriban after discovering he was force sensitive. He follows the inquisitor story line as well, but romances Talos. He is… not a very good person. He’s not outright cruel, but he will scheme to protect what he loves at all costs, and he’s rather gifted at interrogations.

Bounty Hunter: Vhikka Farr. You guys have heard quite a bit about her, but I’ve twisted her story inside and out (sorry). She’s actually a member of clan Farr and living with those in the Order of Revan on Drommund Kaas at the beginning of her story. However, she’s heard of all the cheating that Tarro Blood is doing from her clan and decides to enter the Great Hunt the hard way and earn her place on her own. She packs up her beskar and heads to Hutta (she got that tip from one of my other bounty hunters). She follows the BH story after that, but has to reveal to Mandalore that she was already Mandalorian (and she’s very thankful that he found this funny rather than shooting her). She meets Vargus a couple of times throughout her travels, so they know each other during Shadow of Revan. This is where they actually start working together and where they fall for each other.

I also have a bounty hunter called Durgo Farr (or Pink). He grew up with Vhikka but was a few years older. He was already working as a Bounty Hunter when Vhikka was looking to join the Great Hunt. He had worked with Braden on Nar Shadda, so he set their meeting on Hutta up.

Agent: Sira’mi’rane, aka Amira. She’s a light-side imperial agent who is just trying to do her job. She’s pretty private, even with her crew and misses Copero (her homeworld). She only romances Aristocra Saganu, and they keep in touch through the expansions.

I also have a few more, but they’re not set in stone yet and may fall victim to the delete button.

3. What about companions? Do you follow their in-game story or have headcanons for them? Did they stay with your non-Outlander characters or not? Why?

Mostly? I mean, as much as Vhikka wants to blow Skadge out of the airlock, she can’t really bring herself to kill him. And he always manages to make it back on the ship, no matter how early she leaves the spaceport “unannounced”. Mako keeps in contact with Vhikka even though they separate, so I feel like there’s less abandonment/animosity there, and her and Akaavi join the Alliance sooner. (At the moment I don’t think anything changes for the other classes. But I’m also tired and there are so many of them.) Also, everyone lives! Yay!

4. If applicable: how your characters react if the Alliance joins the opposite faction on Iokath and after that? For example: how do Sith characters feel about joining the Republic? Will they stay or leave (if it’s too spoiler-ish, then feel free to skip this)?

I mean, most of my toons are relatively okay with Vargus siding with the Republic. Vhikka isn’t super fond of the idea, but she always made it a point that she wasn’t the Empire’s lapdog. (She knows that the Republic probably won’t accept her people even if Vargus vouches for them. She also REALLY doesn’t like being asked to be a double agent, and Vargus is so proud of her for controlling herself enough to not shoot Jonas when he asked.) The only ones who actually leave are Vi’fan and Talos, and that’s because he goes back to kill whoever has taken his libraries and offices and asks Talos to come with him. (He also just waltzes back into his spot on the Dark Council somehow. Idk, he’s just that good at what he does.) Most others eventually fall into their new places/roles.

5. If applicable: if your Commander decides to be a saboteur, would they tell anyone (PC or companions)? Why/why not?

Not applicable for Vargus, but I think that Vhikka may get persuaded to do it (oh no...). I haven’t really decided yet. If she does though, she’s going to be a mess. Shes definitely not cut out for that.

6. How would your characters react if one of their companions is exiled or dead because of Outlander’s choices? For example: sith warrior’s reaction if Commander doesn’t save Vette?

I know it’s cheesy, but I like that I saved Vette and Torian. Vhikka gets Torian and Madraxian gets Vette, which frees Vargus to go for Vaylin.

7. If you have something written about anything from the above (bc I know some people do), share the links to your works (again, if you feel like it)!

I… don’t actually have anything written. I try, but it’s always a jumbled mess. Maybe one day!

#this was a mess #but I'm so glad I've put it down in text #now I'm more likely to actually do something with it #my ocs #thank you for the tag! I hope it makes sense.....

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visionmarred-archive · 5 years

Note

43, "You're lucky you're cute" for Sky/Atton!!

thank you, Alexandra!! 😀 this is later than my fics usually are rip I’m sorry. Also u may recall a discussion we had a while ago about an idea I had… here it is. :’)

43. “You’re lucky you’re cute”

—

After an insane several months filled with Sith Lords, being trained in the Force powers he had been denying he had, getting dragged into the middle of a handful of wars, and finding himself working with the weirdest kriffing group of people the galaxy had to offer, Atton privately felt that there was something almost sweet in simplicity about how he found himself getting shaken up for pazaak credits again.

He’d love to say this wasn’t his fault if Sky asked, but really, he doubted that he could. At the very least, he had an excuse of how this wasn’t a recent game if she asked. The last time he had been playing pazaak on Nar Shaddaa was about two, maybe three standard weeks ago, and he had miraculously avoided trouble that day.

The crew of the Ebon Hawk found themselves on the planet and in a cantina once more for the sake of relaxing, but this time, no errands were ran first. After finally pulling herself from that week-long depressive stupor that had persisted after Kreia’s death on Malachor V, the Exile had slowly but surely started to act a bit more like her old self.

Considering how she admitted to him that her brand of cheerfulness tended to be more on the “smile to hide your pain” side, Atton privately wondered whether or not that was a good thing.

Sky had gathered them all into the main room of the Hawk, thanking them all earnestly for their hard work and for helping her on this journey. A lot of “I couldn’t have done it without you”’s and “You all mean the galaxy to me, and I’m so grateful for your help”’s. As a thank you, she decided to treat them all to a night out of their choosing on Nar Shaddaa. The only hiccup so far had been Atton and Mira arguing for a solid fifteen minutes on what the best cantina on Nar Shaddaa was, an argument that ended only when Bao-Dur had pulled up the holonet to search both and realized that they were, in fact, the same kriffing cantina, just described differently by both parties.

Atton ran into hiccup number two when he had left a conversation with Terran and Bao to smoke a cigarra in the corner. Instead of that satisfying smoke to top off his good mood, he found himself cornered by two Gamorreans who didn’t look that happy. Not that Gamorreans ever look particularly happy.

“You! Ugly human man!” The first one snorted at Atton, not-so-subtly drawing his attention to both himself (herself?) and the axe that it had on its back. “You owe the boss credits, and you’re gonna pay up now!”

“Yeah! One thousand credits, right now, or things are aboutta get a lot more fun in here!” The second one laughed.

Blinking rapidly and lowering the unlit cigarra from his mouth, Atton briefly ran through the list of everybody on Nar Shaddaa that he still owed credits to. With a private groan, he realized it was likely the Aqualish that he had taken on the Peragus job for; Atton had been out of contact for months, but he doubted that the gangster would forget him or think him dead that easily. It would make him feel warm and fuzzy if it didn’t mean that Roba sent goons after him whenever he got word that he was in the area.

“Look, guys,” Atton replied, conjuring the most people-pleasing smile he could muster. “If you’re here for Roba, then - ”

“Roba? Who Roba?” The first Gamorrean interrupted. “We here for Atton! Atton Rand!”

Clearly, their boss had sent the best and brightest.

Before Atton could reply, Sky crept into his field of vision, stepping around to tap the second Gamorrean on the shoulder. “Excuse me?”

The Gamorrean turned to look down at her, the same angry expression on its face. “Human girl, what is it?”

“We’re in the middle of something here!”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Sky said politely, stepping backwards and standing by Atton. She smiled as sweetly as ever, and the scoundrel didn’t know whether he was grateful, embarrassed, or annoyed that she was stepping in.

“Sargas, I can handle this myself,” He whispered to her, settling on the first two emotions.

“I know,” she whispered back before turning her attention back towards the thugs. “Gentlemen, I think there’s a misunderstanding here. Did you say you’re looking for Atton Rand?”

“Yeah, and this is him!” The second Gamorrean replied. “Boss gave us a picture, he looks just like him!”

At that, Sky snapped her fingers. “Oh! I’m sorry, I think there’s been some confusion here, but this isn’t the right man!” Reaching up to place her hand on his shoulders, Atton wondered where the krif she was going with this when she spoke again.

“You see, this is Atton’s twin brother, Randy.”

What.

Turning his head to look at her incredulously, Sky didn’t even break her gaze away from the Gamorreans.

“Your name… Randy Rand?” The first Gamorrean snorted, looking back towards Atton.

Smiling as much as he could manage, Atton gritted out, “Yeah, that’s me. Randy Rand.” Shooting a quick glance at Sky, he added, “Whoever named me must have hated me.”

The corner of Sky’s lips curled upwards into the briefest of grins before plastering back into the same mask as before.

“We’re so sorry for the misunderstanding, gentlemen. But Randy, you’ll let Atton know right away, right?” She said, looking up at him pointedly.

Look at her! She’s enjoying this. Atton thought irritably before replying. “Yeah. I’ll… get in touch with Atton soon as I can.”

The first Gamorrean opened its mouth to speak, but Sky began digging around in her satchel before it could. “Here. Why not relax and enjoy a drink? We’re sorry again for the misunderstanding.” She said, flashing a big smile as she held out a handful of credits.

The Gamorreans only took a brief glance at each other before the second one took the handful from Sky’s hand, both lumbering off to the bar.

Once they were out of earshot, Atton whirled around to face her. “Randy?!”

Sky burst into laughter, unable to hold it in much longer.

“Randy Rand?!”

“It - it was - ” She stopped, laughing for a solid twenty seconds before she had to take a breath. “Heh, it was… the best, most nonviolent solution I could think of!”

“Ohhhhh, don’t even give me that!” Atton said as she started laughing again. “You’re the schmoozing charmer, and you expect me to believe that Randy Rand was the best thing you could come up with? Really?”

Wiping away a tear from her eyes, Sky still snickered as she replied. “I thought of Randy Rand a while ago on Dxun and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to use it.” Eyes twinkling and grinning wide, she added, “They just gave me the best opportunity I’ve seen so far.”

Well. It was kind of funny.

Okay, objectively speaking it was pretty kriffing funny. Not that he was gonna let her know that.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because Sargas? You don’t have a future as a comedienne, let me tell you.” Atton crossed his arms, though found he was unable to hold back a smile anymore.

“Aww. There goes that dream.” She laughed, wiping away another tear as she started walking back to the table where the others were sitting at. “I’m curious, though - who’s Roba?”

“How should I know?” He replied in a dry voice. “He’s after Atton Rand, remember? I’m his twin brother. Randy Rand.”

Sky laughed again, and this time, Atton couldn’t help but laugh with her.

#sierra's asks #kotor stuff #lotrificationer #OTP: Thought You Were a Dream #OC: Skysargas #atton rand #putting this in the main tag bc i feel bold enough sdguushdg #sierra writes #are my readmores gone again? guh #long post #catch the mild community reference

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tauntaun-rider · 5 years

Text

I realize that I’ve been posting rather sporadically, and I'm sorry about that. (Moment of real life honesty here: The combination of chronic pain and debilitating depression is not something that I would wish on anyone.) However, I am not here to apologize or vent, but to share something.

So, I have a folder in the Notes app on my phone where I occasionally write drabbles about my OCs that will maybe one day be turned into something. There’s one in particular about my Agent that I not only finished, but nitpicked to death. I finally decided to bite the bullet and post it to my pithy AO3 account. (Because what better time is there to face your fears than 2:00/3:00 AM?)

Here is the link: Shadows and Regrets.

Below the cut is the beginning to the first chapter. (There are three actual chapters and the fourth acts as an epilogue of sorts.)

I hope anyone that takes the time to read it enjoys!

CHAPTER ONE

This is too risky. This can only backfire. You'll end up with a blaster hole in your head. At best.

Rae bit her lip and looked down at the letter she had been writing and rewriting on her datapad during her free time over the last few evenings. Everything she had experienced since initially joining Imperial Intelligence brought her to the same conclusion: delivering this letter had the potential to yield catastrophic results. Not just for her, but for her crew and her husband as well.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man peacefully sleeping in the bedroll on the floor of the tent they shared. Rae took in his tousled black hair and the hint of a smile on his lips and couldn’t help but smile herself.

Her husband.

Rae never even considered the possibility of finding someone to love that would love her in return. Being an agent in the shadows ensured that she would be alone. Or so she thought. Vector changed all of that.

There wasn't a single person that she trusted as she trusted him. Vector knew she was working on the letter and who would be its recipient, if all went as planned. He understood it was something she needed to do, or at least try to do, to bring herself some peace. And most importantly, he supported her decision, despite the colossal risk.

Convinced that the letter couldn't be better phrased and willing to accept its consequences, Rae saved the final draft of the letter to the datachip she'd already prepared and turned off her datapad. After sliding it into her duffel bag, she slipped on her boots and stepped out of the tent into the muggy Yavin-4 night. A breeze lifted the wavy, emerald locks that refused to fit in her bun away from her face as it meandered through the makeshift camp.

There was a clear divide between the tents: Republic on the right and Empire on the left. It seemed only fair, as the truce was temporary while the combined forces worked to bring down Revan before he revived the Sith Emperor.

Rae wandered through the camp to the back corner, away from the tension that existed even in slumber. She had come to sit by the pond almost every night since they had arrived on Yavin. Vector had accompanied her a few times, but he seemed to understand that she needed space to break free of the invisible ropes that pulled her in every direction, if only for a little while, and merely held her hand while they sat in silence.

Rae sat on a reasonably flat rock at the water's edge and pulled her knees up to her chest. She laid her forearms on top of her knees and rested her chin on top of the tower of limbs. The letter and its implications kept overpowering any other thoughts she had and thwarted her attempts at meditation.

Her frustration was interrupted by the sound of twigs snapping beneath boots as someone walked toward her cozy nook. Her head lifted off her arms with a jolt as she strained to hear any noises that would identify who it was. Out of habit, she reached down to grab the vibroknife hidden in her boot before mentally chastising herself and putting her arm back on top of her knees.

"Can't sleep either?" Theron asked as he took a seat next to her. His normal faux hawk was a bit misshapen and he still wore his clothes from the previous day.

She nodded, gazing out at the stillness of the water.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Your hair was kind of glowing in the moonlight," he chuckled.

Rae turned her head towards him and smiled. She thought of their first meeting. Their first verbal communication occurred while she was stuck on a research center on Manaan that was on the verge of being entirely submerged. Theron had directed her via comm to the only remaining emergency pod, while going out of his way to point out that a Pub was saving her life.

After escaping unscathed, Rae and Vector, both still slightly sodden from the ordeal, walked into the hidden base that Lana had procured for their mission to find the new, unlikely allies huddled over a table covered in datapads and sheets of flimsy. Theron said he didn't need to know who she was, but insisted on introducing himself anyway. Rae, both tired of his attitude and in need of a laugh after the near-death experience, made a mildly flirty comment in an attempt to break down his brash exterior. In some strange way, that seemed to decrease some of the early tension between them.

Despite that initial experience, she had every reason not to trust him. After all, her stint as a double agent didn't exactly go smoothly. And he, who she assumed had no knowledge of her past experiences with the SIS, had no reason to trust her either.

Yet somehow, they had forged an unusual bond. Rae initially thought it was a polite courtesy, as they had the same goal of uncovering the Revanites' plot and were in the same line of work. But the more time they spent together on Rishi, the more she got to know him as a person. She was surprised to find that they actually had a lot in common. Just in the first few days alone, she discovered that they both hated undercover work on Nar Shaddaa, they both were uncomfortable with having to use seduction as a means of gathering information in the field, and that they both preferred working alone whenever possible.

They shared some embarrassing stories from being undercover, without the confidential details, of course. Rae shared the story of her first time pretending to be a pirate while on Hutta, while Theron told her about one mission in which he ended up running around an Imperial battle cruiser in his underwear. She had to cover her mouth with both hands to hold in the giggles that threatened to pour out and avoid waking Lana. Rae still distinctly remembered the way Theron's eyes had narrowed at her and how his frown conveyed an impressive amount of disapproval while she shook with barely concealed laughter. After a few moments, however, he lightened up and the frown turned into a vaguely amused, self-deprecating smirk.

She recalled another night when they stayed up late talking about the lives they led. Always working, always keeping a distance from other people, always being on high alert and looking for threats. It was nice to talk to someone who understood; no one else in her life really comprehended the toll it took on her the way he did. She learned a bit about how he ended up in the SIS, and she told a bit of her unusual spy origin story as well. Rae felt rather comfortable talking to him, even though he was supposed to be the enemy. She couldn't help not knowing how to feel about the development; he gave every indication that he was experiencing the exact same flurry of confusing emotions.

Rae turned back toward the pond, once again focused on the present.

"What's keeping you up?" she asked.

"Honestly? Pretty much everything. It's all just hitting me now." Theron paused to readjust his position on the rock. "Rishi... Teaming up with a Sith Lord and an Imperial Cipher... Being tortured by my ancestor... The awkwardness with my mother... It's a lot. And after tomorrow, it'll be over. Win or lose, it'll be over."

Rae nodded.

"I don't blame you for being overwhelmed. This strange journey, full of twists and turns, along with pirates and insane cultists, of course... It's taken us across the galaxy and formed what seemed like an impossible alliance. But here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Theron decided to ask her the same question.

"Regrets," she said as she wrapped her arms around her knees. "Too many."

"What, you're regretting all of this now?" He gestured to the camp behind them. "Wishing you had stayed in the shadows instead of getting wrapped up in this madness?" The small smirk on his lips worked as a way to both lighten the mood and prompt her to share more. Rae was well aware of the tactic being used, but indulged him anyway.

"Actually, no. I don't regret any of this. It's led to some... personal revelations. I've made some interesting acquaintances. One might consider them friends, while the focus is on Revan." Rae glanced over at him to see him listening intently. His eyes were widened a bit in surprise, but he wasn't laughing at her or the way she openly admitted to enjoying the experience, which she found oddly relieving.

"Whatever happens," she said softly, "I'm glad I met you, Theron. And thank you for saving my life on Manaan."

He nodded, his hazel eyes focused on her.

"I'm... glad I met you, too. Can't say I was expecting to get along with you after finding out who you were, let alone stay up at night talking to you," he chuckled quietly to himself. "I guess I should also thank you for helping me get the rest of the way out of Revan's stronghold. And having my back with Lana after all that."

Rae raised an eyebrow at the last part.

"Lokin told me what you said to her while I was out," Theron explained. "How you walked that line on my behalf."

Rae knew exactly what line he was referencing: the line between Force users and Force-blind people, or more specifically, the line between Sith and everyone else beneath them. It was one that she personally never cared for very much.

Rae's gaze intensified and the corners of her lips were tugged downward. She could feel her teeth clenching out of habit.

"She had no right to put you in that position. She has no idea what it's like or what it can do to a person." Rae broke eye contact and looked at her reflection in the pond. Even in the stillness of the water, she looked broken. She bit her lip and tried to get the haunting image of Hunter's sneer out of her mind.

"No, she doesn't. But I appreciate that. She could have gone all Sithy on you, and you still took that risk."

Rae tightened her grip on her knees, her knuckles turning pale with the action.

"Sometimes, risks are necessary. Sometimes, you need to remind yourself what you're fighting for in the first place."

She could feel Theron's eyes on her and knew that he was trying to restrain himself from asking what she meant. Before he could ask, she turned toward him.

"Besides, I think it's clear that people have 'gone all Sithy' on me before," Rae added bitterly as she looked down at the scars visible on her chest in her sleeveless tunic. "Lokin thinks my so-called moral compass is going to get me killed one of these days," she laughed.

Theron's eyes followed hers to the web of violet scars and bits of puckered skin just below her collarbone. He had to have noticed it before; she made no move to cover any of it up while on Rishi. However, she had never talked about it openly until now.

Rae stood up and stretched.

"I'm going to head to bed. You should, too."

"Alright. Night, Rae."

"Goodnight, Theron."

Rae walked back to her tent, let herself back in, and pulled off her boots. She slid into the bedroll next to Vector and nestled into his side, pulling him close with one arm across his chest.

Tomorrow would be a big day, indeed.

#tauntaun writer #maraesa #otp: what will be the next verse of our song?#i'm too afraid to use the 'swtor' tag.#it can get rather vicious in there.

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chubbyooo · 5 years

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Blurred Lines Chapter 23 - Contacts

Hey big writing mood at the mo so here comes more chapters for y’all. After the revelation in the last chapter we’re gonna let that sit and catch up with our smuggler boi Gacen

Gacen and Ash meet their mysterious contact and Ash glares a lot

“Ok so you’re clear on the play right?” The light shined though the gap in the elevator as it slowly ticked up. Gacen didn’t answer for a couple seconds, he could feel the pit in his stomach getting more intense with every floor they passed

“yeah totally we play dumb and get as much information from them as we can, then we can consider their offer, if it helps us find Risha” when Gacen had called up the contact he was only given a location, It all felt very shady and he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad sign. He didn’t really trust any of this but they had information on the Drayens and as far as Gacen was aware there was just Risha and him left.

“and?” they had formed a plan which Gacen had tried his best to learn, he was better at making it up as he went along but this information was too important so Ash had been put in charge of keeping him in check

“and I won’t fly off the handle with some crazy scheme that will make our intentions clear” Gacen had never been one for subtly, that could be due to his usual mild intoxication but hell if he knew. “and you’re gonna try and read them? like see true intentions or something”

Ash sighed “sort of, I’m going to try and apply my interrogation training to read subtle tells they may have. I have no idea if it will work though” Gacen didn’t even know what a tell was let alone how to detect one. Ash turned to Gacen with a concerned look on her face “hey Gacen”

“yeah?” oh god that’s the pity voice he didn’t want to get real right now

“are you ok? we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” oh that was actually alright. Gacen definitely felt very nervous about all of this but Ash was right it was better to try and fail than leave it as a what if

“yeah I’m alright, I... wanna do this it’s uh just a lot” god that sounded stupid “you know?”

Ash let out a half smile “yeah well I’m here to help regardless alright” Ash was sweet, she definitely had a rough exterior though, when Gacen first tried to shake her hand he ended up in a headlock but underneath all that she was pretty cool.

“thanks Ash and don’t worry I can always find my way out of trouble” he grinned hopefully that relieved tension. Ash had hid it pretty well but she also seemed nervous about this, guess it was a step up from smuggling and bar fights.

An awkward silence fell over the elevator as it continued to rise, what were they going to find? it couldn’t be Risha right that’d be crazy. What else though? old enemies? people from Dubrillion? Voidwolf people? no that was crazy right. He checked the elevator floor, 157, 158, 159, 160 god this was hell, every second he was in this elevator he wanted to just jump out but he couldn’t. He could totally run away go to the Nar Shaddaa undercity change his name, sell like droid parts he could be great at that, then work his way up until he was a factory manager maybe that’d be more fun than smuggling.

“GACEN” suddenly he snapped out of his weird worker daydream

“huh wha-what is it” Ash was staring at him with her signature frown

Ash pointed to the doors “the elevators here dingus” sure enough the door was open and he could see a corridor made of sleek shiny marble walls leading to a door of equal ridiculousness.

“geez this place has more blinding white colours than hoth, do you think a wampa lives here” Gacen chuckled to himself as Ash strode forward without a word, she totally thought it was funny she was just being cool. Ash strode up to the door and began looking around next to it

Ash began feeling the wall at intervals “um Ash... watcha doin”

Without turning around she said “I’m looking for a doorbell” Gacen frowned confused. He strode up to the door and knocked on it

“why not just knock?” Ash wasn’t the most well adjusted person due to her busy past but this, this was a whole new level of detached

“uhhhhhhh becaaause it’s...” Gacen raised his eyebrow at her “shut up ok” she stomped up next to him grumpily. They waited for a few more seconds before the doors slid open with an ODX droid standing there

“welcome Captain Gacen Zandar and... guest, my name is C2-J80 and may I ju-” protocol droids bored Gacen

“yeah ok jatey show me to your master if you please” Gacen tapped his foot impatiently

“well I never, very well my master is waiting through this way if you please” the droid led them into a lounge area where they saw a older gentleman mid to late 40s sitting on a big leather couch. He was wearing long red robes with rather flamboyant shoulder pads drinking some form of cocktail

Gacen leaned over to Ash “geez if I ever need a spare traffic cone I’ll call this guy” Ash glowered at Gacen and he promptly shut his mouth and jumped down onto a couch opposite the man

“welcome to my establishment Captain Gacen Zandar my name is Jadryl Waltar if you require anything of me please don’t hesitate to ask, my staff are at your disposal” he would regret that offer

“ooo well I am a bit hungry if your staff could whip up a Rancor steak with a few light deserts 8 bunches of grapes and a st-owwww” as Ash sat down next to him she pulled on his ear to stop him from speaking

Jadryl chuckled “I’m afraid we don’t have any stows.” This prick. “A joke I assume” Gacen was only half joking he was starving

“you got me sir, what I’d really like to know is why I’m here” Ash let go of his ear seemingly satisfied with the response

Jadryl sat up putting his drink down “yes well that is more than fair, I represent a part of the government of Dubrillion and this missi-” Gacen had to check this he had been told a lot different

“hold on government? I thought that was a tyrannical dictatorship” Jadryl frowned at him “not that I have a problem with that of course” Gacen looked to Ash for the all good, she was giving him an icy glare

“Your reputation certainly is accurate Captain” was that a good thing? hopefully “As I was saying this mission has been personally requested by King Actavarus III“ That fukin douche, he had tried to have Risha killed on multiple occasions, something told him that hadn’t stopped.

Gacen put his legs up on the table “and what is the mission pray tell”

“we need you to find Risha Drayen” huh well that worked out “we’re aware of your prior relationship with her and think you would have an easier time finding her” oh shit was this a setup, if they knew that this was almost certainly a trap

“um so you know who I am then?” this was bad he looked to Ash who looked equally worried

“yes the rival of the pirate lord Skavak who was in direct affiliation with the woman in question” wait what? they thought she hadn’t switched sides? “we thought our goals aligned considering you could take out the last of Skavak’s criminal empire” WHAT!!! THAT WAS HIS EMPIRE not that dick hole Skavak’s

“um could I have a quick sidebar with my” he looked at Ash for a title then they answered simultaneously

“Bodyguard”

“Advisor”

Gacen had to salvage it “she advises me on the best bodyguards it’s a totally real profession”

Jadryl looked confused “um but of course” Gacen and Ash made their way to a corridor where there didn’t seem to be any surveillance

“ok what the fuck why does he think that Skavak had the empire, THAT WAS ME” Gacen was furious even from death that asshole was stealing from him

Ash quickly covered his mouth “keep your voice down they could have cameras and we need to play ou-” Ash removed her hand away from his mouth with a look of disgust on her face “stop licking my hand you Gizka’s ass” no one could keep Gacen quiet

“I just don’t understand alright what the hell changed” Gacen hadn’t seen Skavak in 7 years why the hell was he coming up

“well let’s see if Risha wanted to disappear which we have reason to believe, she would want to protect the people close to her” Gacen was confused so Skavak and her were never close

“so?”Ash sighed heavily, holding her face in her hand

“sooo she’d want to erase any affiliation that could lead to people coming after them” what was Ash on about? he continued to frown confused at where Ash was going with this “Gacen I love you man but it’s right in front of you. Risha potentially swapped you and Skavaks role round in records to protect you from these guys” the moment of realisation finally hit Gacen

“oh” he stood there lightly shaking “I see”

“yeah” Ash noticed his shaking and held him steady “you know what this means” Ash smiled as she held his shaking form

“tha-that Risha is out there and wanted” he paused for a second “to keep me safe” Ash nodded and Gacen felt a strange sudden impulse came in for a hug

“woah um Gacen wha-what are you doing” he squeezed her tightas he felt his eyes well up “wait are you hugging me so I can’t see you crying”

Gacen speech wavered as he spoke “NO”, Ash awkwardly hugged him back for a second before letting him go

“alright let’s get back in there and get a lead” Ash stood there for a second letting him compose himself

Gacen coughed for a few seconds to ‘clear his throat’ “once we do can we totally wreck this assholes place” Ash smiled deviously and nodded “hey Jaity I’m gonna need a few Bad Motivators if you please” Gacen called out as they returned to their seat

“right away captain” the droid shuffled out of the room

“sorry about that we were discussing” Gacen paused, gotta think of a lie “business arrangements” nailed it

“I see well are you willing to accept my offer?” Gacen could squeeze more out of this guy without having to agree to anything, what did he think this was his first shady negotiation

“well first of all I’d like to get all the details and maybe an advance cause if I remember correctly Risha can be quite dangerous” Ash gave him a disapproving look, hey he was just making a bit extra money Risha would totally approve

Jadryl picked up a holopad “very well how much are we talking” hehehehe too easy

“well we’re going to need at least 3000 credits for equipment and fuel expenses if this is more of a search and less of a go one place and find her, am I correct” Jadryl nodded looking less than pleased “and I’d like 2000 as insurance just in case things don’t pan out how much is the actual pay by the way” the drinks arrived as Gacen began to quickly drink his first

“10,000 credits this is an important bounty” damn it he works for a King of course he could pay more stupid Gacen.

Gacen began his second drink “Ok let’s get some details so I know what I’m up against” Gacen put his hand in his pocket and primed a smoke grenade

“A few years ago Risha’s efforts to retake Dubrillion became worryingly organised so we sent the best bounty hunters we could find to try and bring her down but she outsmarted every one” that’s my girl Gacen thought as he began his third drink “we decided to get serious and sent the Champion of the Great Hunt but when she arrived at Risha’s last know location there was no sign of her it was like she’d vanished we figured we’d spooked her and thought that ws a win nonetheless” huh not like Rish to get spooked seemed a little odd, he armed a small sticky bomb in his pocket, he began hi fourth drink “but then we noticed in the underworld of Dubrillion there was people who seem to work for her or at least support her in a” he paused “mobilised fashion, we thought she must be still out there taking us down from the shadows so we sent out the bounty hunters again to find her but up until now nothing” Gacen cocked his pistol as he finished his fourth drink

“so you need me because I know her and how to anticipate her is that it” Gacen smiled fully aware of how drunk he was

“well that was the initial thought but after we realised who you were with your little heart to heart out there we feel you may be more useful than we realised in finding her” SHIT there were cameras there time to go

https://open.spotify.com/track/0cGG2EouYCEEC3xfa0tDFV?si=E1xWppekRy2GjElyY1MbjA

Mecernary droids suddenly began filing into the room, Gacen swiftly threw his sticky bomb to the ceiling light and smoke to the floor, as he did he saw Ash vault over the sofa and punch one of the droids in the stomach ripping out the things wires. Jadryl quickly scurried into a room as the smoke went off and the lights went out in the room, Gacen meandered round the sofa stumbling on the edge as he did. There was a big window he’d spotted when he walked in it looked perfect for jumping out of, he couldn’t see shit though who put all this smoke in here.

“ASH??” he shouted “WHERE YOU AT” he made his way over to the wall and began shimming along it trying to find the window

“FIGHTING A DROID WHAT’S THE PLAN” he could hear the sounds of breaking machine and could only assume that she was massacring them

“COME TO ME I HAVE” he paused “A PLAN, I THINK” he shimmied further but bumped into something, it felt metal and human sized. Oh shit a droid he quickly ducked as a blaster shot singed the top of his mohawk, he quickly slid under the legs before drawing his blaster which he fumbled with and dropped on the floor. Damn it he searched on the floor until he felt it and promptly grabbed it, as he looked up he saw the droid ah shit what would he do, suddenly he saw a blue fist burst through the chest before swiftly shorting out. Ash held out her hand pulled him up off the floor

“where is this plan of yours” Ash said as she coughed through the smoke

“come one there’s a window” he could now see the illuminating city of Nar Shaddaa through the smoke, target acquired

“oh you have GOT to be kidding me” Gacen grinned as he shot the glass shattering it and began to run towards it

“come on Ash we gotta hustle” he jumped out the window and began free falling, he wasn’t really sure what came next but he’d think of something. As he began to think he felt himself suddenly stop falling followed by a pain in his back, what? he looked to see he was sitting on the back of a taxi. A rodian was screaming curses at him from the cockpit about the dent he made. He scrambled to the front “I gotta borrow you’re taxi dude don’t worry I’ll pay for it all” as soon as he said that he calmed down and let him take the wheel “get ready bud this is gonna get bumpy” Gacen swerved the taxi around and could see that Ash had just jumped out after him, cmon dude you can do this. Gacen drove to where he thought Ash would be getting closer and closer as she fell further and further, he quickly swerved into position ready to catch Ash, easy, so cool. He suddenly saw a blue blur go past the taxi, shit he was off by like 5ft he hadn’t had enough alcohol. He quickly nosedived the taxi to catch up with Ash adjusting to the right position as they got closer towards the floor he pulled up and heard a resounding wumph as Ash landed next to him. “see Ash told you I had a plan”

Ash sprawled down into the seat and responded with a quiet “what did I say about crazy schemes” her hair was everywhere as she glared at Gacen with an exasperated look. Doesn’t matter they had a lead, Champion of the Great Hunt...

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lordzenos · 6 years

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okay so this is from a while back but you did a meme where you condense your ocs and their stories to a single word - could you expound on why you picked what you did?

thank you so much for asking!! and sorry this took so long, i’ve been swamped with work. this got pretty long so the rest is under the cut:

#bryce: resolve - he was pretty much left with nothing after his family was sold out and he was forcibly removed from his homeworld. after barely escaping with his life, thinking his entire family dead (including Nyscha), he jumped from world to world just scraping by until he joined a prominent gang on nar Shaddaa. honestly he’s resolute but also pretty fucking stubborn, and compartmentalises like crazy, so he never truly dealt with the trauma until he met elvira (my BH).

#aidan: passion - he feels A LOT. the Jedi council would say he’s a terrible Jedi, and he’d agree. he hates the empire with what they did to his father (Bryce) and aunt (Nyscha), and he grew to disagree with the Jedi teachings of “no emotional attachments” because how can he not care? (almost ironically, he’s afraid of romantic commitments, but only because he cares so much that he’s deathly afraid of fucking up)

#nyscha: rebirth - she practically lost her life like Bryce (and more, due to her injuries). after the brainwashing, she was programmed to believe she had no family, and she had the tendency to not feel emotions when on the job. only after removing her restraints did she realise how much the empire took from her, and she slowly regained the person she used to be, so it was a pretty drastic rebirth for her.

#to'qeel: defiance - he was actually born into slavery, and his smaller stature had the tendency to make people undermine and underestimate him, but he always found ways to subvert people’s expectations of him. later on he was found to have force-sensitivity, and became apprentice to a Sith Lord later on, and the strong anti-alien sentiment within the empire struck him profoundly, so he worked to undermine corrupt officials’ power bases from the inside.

#vex: fury - growing up as a force-sensitive child on a chiss world wasn’t easy, especially when his family was prominent within the military on sarvchi. when it manifested, he was shunned, with his family practically disowning him, and he grew up with a lot of resentment for his people. he ran away once he was able to, and ended up joining the jedi.#elvira: steadfast - the illegitimate child of a force-sensitive exile, elvira grew up in secrecy, but she had a good foster parent who did everything they could for her. she never knew anything about her parents, other than her father’s Force-sensitivity, so she set out to search for him once she was able to. she’s pretty tough, and despite the lonely childhood she had, it never broke her.#ne'rala: unbroken - sold into slavery at a tender age after her home was attacked by slavers. she was oldest among the child slaves in the mining facility in tatooine, and she protected the other kids fiercely, often at the cost of her own well-being. the loss of her family haunts her, but she presses on, unbowed and unbroken, even after being forced into the sith trials on korriban.#micah: illumination - she tended to be naive and idealistic of the Republic military, since her family had a history within the ranks, and the corruption within the higher-ups and especially havoc squad really hit her hard when the betrayals were discovered. it was a major wake-up call for her as she realised the republic isn’t flawless.

#numinousbones #tysm!!!!! <3 <3 <3 #oc replies #asks #oc: bryce #oc: aidan #oc: nyscha #oc: vex #oc: elvira #oc: to'qeel #oc: ne'rala #oc: micah

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inyri · 7 years

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Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story): Chapter 18- Thicker Than Water

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) 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.)

Comments are always appreciated! If you prefer, you can also visit:

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(Good grief, this one’s even longer. Full text after the cut, but I’d really suggest one of the links for best effect.) Content warning: references to and descriptions of torture.)

Chapter Eighteen: Thicker Than Water

16 ATC. Rishi.

This might be, Nine thinks as she holds her blaster steady, finger about to switch off the safety, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Which really is impressive, given the span of her career so far includes some pretty spectacular feats of idiocy (all the way back to assuming Darth Jadus was ever dead. She knows better now- never believe anyone’s dead until you’ve got your own fingers on their lack of pulse and even then, put a round between their eyes just in case- but she forgave herself for that long ago. She didn’t know the game back then, thought she was a back row piece on the chessboard when of course she was just a pawn and they played her like one. But even pawns get to the last rank of the board sometimes, and when they do-

She’s not a pawn anymore. She’s a fucking queen.)

But holding an armed Sith Lord at blaster-point? She’d thought she could trust Lana, but so had Theron- if she’s wrong about this, she’s very likely about to lose a hand or worse and he’s probably going to die strapped to an interrogation table in some Revanite base and he doesn’t deserve that, Republic or not.

No one deserves that.

No matter how many times she’s dreamed about burning the entire SIS to the ground, she wouldn’t wish torture on her worst enemy. On Corellia she’d known what was going to happen, in abstract if not in detail, and she had a mission to complete and failure wasn’t in the game plan; still, when the straps tightened and Hunter’s people started their work there were moments when she almost hoped for a cut too deep, a hit too hard or a dose just a little too high, anything to make the pain stop for a moment-

Theron would have never seen it coming.

“With Theron inside their base, he’ll be able to do what he does.” Lana blinks down the barrel, one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly but her expression unreadable. “Once we retrieve him, we can-”

“Did you plan this?” She cuts in abruptly, well past the point of caring about rudeness. Sith or not, she needs to know.

Another blink. “Did I- what?”

“Did you,” she says it again, each word sharp as knives, “plan for Theron’s capture? Was that why you wouldn’t wait for me?”

Eyes widening, Lana moves slowly, carefully, to clip her saber back to her belt. “You think I- no. No! It went all wrong, but if we move quickly we can still retrieve Theron, preferably alive, and salvage the situation. Do put that away so I can explain, please.”

“I think we’re just fine like this. Don’t you, Jakarro?” As the wookiee roars agreement she curls and uncurls her finger, just so, in line with the trigger. “Explain. Now.”

(Would you really have shot me? Still half-buried in her pillow nest, Lana looks up at her, head tilted.

A question like that merits a drink- she reaches for the bottle and drains the last of it. I needed to narrow down the possibilities, and I didn’t have much time to work with. The blaster helped.

You may need to explain that one, I’m afraid.

Keeping in mind that I didn’t know you then like I do now, and given my previous track record with Sith- Lana nods agreement as she says it- the way I saw it there were three options. One, that you were a Revanite all along. Theron wouldn’t turn, so you had him captured and waited to see how I’d react-

When Lana’s really, honestly amused she can always tell: if she laughs in public (which she rarely does) it’s the clipped, terse chuckle that’s a native species to Dromund Kaas in its own right, the sort of laugh that doesn’t draw attention because when one grows up in the Empire’s heart one learns to conform or suffer the consequences. But in private, like now, it’s something else entirely, rising and falling, notes on a musical scale. Did you honestly believe that?

It was by far the least likely scenario- too complicated by half, and if I’d objected you’d have had to deal with me and Jakarro at the same time. In any case, you didn’t attack me when I drew on you, so that one was out.

Option two? Lana shifts over onto her stomach, chin resting on her hands and forehead crinkled in thought.

The most likely option, all things considered. You were telling the truth. The mission went bad, Theron was compromised, and you let him get captured in the hope that he’d manage to both survive and learn something useful in the process. She shakes her head. Risky and stupid, but you would have wanted to explain yourself. You would have thought I’d agree with you.

An eyeroll, a grumble, and a pillow tossed in her direction- You don’t have to lecture me again, you know. I’m aware-

Did Theron ever talk about what happened? With Revan?

No. Lana shakes her head. Even when he came to Asylum, he never brought it up. So I thought it better to let it lie rather than reopening old wounds. Did he tell you?

A little. Enough. I- she pauses. Have you ever been interrogated? Not as practice, not debriefing- actually interrogated.

A second headshake. I’ve been fortunate. I’ve seen more of them than I’d care to, given my particular talent- her lip curls, her tone dry- but before I served Darth Arkous I spent most of my time with the historians, and with your warnings about Darth Zhorrid’s proclivities I was able to keep mostly clear of her after my promotion.

Then you wouldn’t understand what it’s like. Not like we do.

I don’t think that’s fair, Lana says. I’m sure it was painful and I know it could have gone badly, but Theron-

She holds up one hand. No. I’m sorry, but no. You don’t understand, and you don’t get to justify it.

Then why don’t you explain it to me?

If I could tell you, I… No. There aren’t words to put to those feelings, not ones that anyone else would understand (except for Theron- he understands. Maybe even better than she does). You know, it might be easier to show you. Do you remember Valkorion’s little mind games from before, on the Gravestone?

Lana nods.

Let’s try this, then. An exercise. She stands, reaching back toward her desk for her datapad. Think of that, and keep that pressure in your head, and I want you to read me.

All right. But why the datapad?

I’m going to play something in the background. With reverse interrogations that’s often all you get, assuming your captors aren’t total incompetents- snippets of conversations, a whisper they think you can’t hear. Theron was- she almost said lucky, but no, he wasn’t lucky at all- Revan liked to talk, so that helped, but… She sighs. Ten minutes. Ten minutes, then tell me what you heard.

She loads two files. First, her recording of two days ago’s logistics meeting, scanning forward to the end, to when they’d started to rehash the Nar Shaddaa shield bunker problem for the hundredth time. Second, to trigger the appropriate memory- this one takes her longer, buried six folders deep and behind three separate passwords- SCORPIO’s recording of Corellia.

(She ought to have deleted it a long time ago. It’s not healthy, probably, keeping things like that around.)

Hour ten, she thinks. A particularly unpleasant hour.

She presses play on the second file, sound muted, her attention focused on the screen. It takes a moment, even so, to pull the walls down from around the hours of time it took months of deliberate effort to suppress, but then, finally… Ah. She hisses, her head starting to throb. There it is.

Shall we begin? Remember, imagine Valkorion too, if you want an idea of what Theron felt.

Lana reaches out for her arm as she pushes her sleeve up, fingers circling her wrist. I’ll try. Show me.

Still watching the recording play, she lets herself fall back into the memory as the connection between them solidifies.

[by hour ten she was hurting bad: the truth serum was useless, of course, but they’d pushed the dose to a point that left her dizzy and feverish; her right eye aches, the lid swollen shut and her nose and three ribs broken (not her fingers yet, though- that was hour fourteen). they’ve grown bored of hitting her and it hasn’t gotten them what they want.

the woman’s leaning her forward, pulling up her jacket while her body howls protest, and tapes the electrode array to the base of her spine as her partner does the same along the soles of her bare feet.

i’ve already told you everything i know, she says. this isn’t going to change anything.

the woman looks at her, then to the still-active holocomm where hunter’s standing, arms crossed. your call, boss. keep going?]

Shifting, restless and uncomfortable, Lana tightens her grip; she starts the first file, leaving it playing in the background as-

[she’s a very good liar, hunter grins. ten minutes, i think, and we’ll try again. turning, hunter eyes her up and down. oh, legate. this would be so much easier if you hadn’t changed your programming. at this rate you’re going to miss the whole party.

she smiles, lips dry. she’d kill for a glass of water; she’d kill for a lot of things, at the moment. think i’ll pass. the hors d'oeuvres were terrible.

your loss. stars, she hates that laugh. let’s begin.

it builds slowly, a prickle in her toes, crawling slowly up her legs into the muscles of her back, and at first she thinks maybe it won’t be so bad and then the man in armor, the leader of the trio holding her captive, reaches for the control box and cranks the dial up and-]

It’s hard to watch. She can almost feel it, the electricity coursing in ten-second pulses through her body until she’s arching against the restraints, and she remembers the noise she made, a inhuman keening wail she wouldn’t have known as her own voice except that recordings do not lie. There was no helping it, of course, no shame in it. But still.

After the first minute Lana curls onto her side, eyes closed, fingernails of her contact hand digging into the underside of her forearm and her other hand clenched into a fist pressed tight against her mouth. After two minutes she tries to pull away.

I said ten minutes. She lowers her arm against the surface of the couch, pinning Lana’s hand between her wrist and the cushions. Not yet.

[the stutter-stop irregularity of it’s the hardest thing- thirty seconds of rest and then five bursts in a row, then another pause and then three, then six, then two, again and again, so she can’t count them, can’t know when to fight it and when to stop fighting-]

You never do, Valkorion says, stirring in the back of her mind, brushing the memory aside like a child throwing an unwanted toy as he forces himself forward. With my power at your disposal you could bring my children to heel in the span of a heartbeat and yet still you fight me. It would be so much easier if-

(He did that on purpose. She’s certain of it. For a moment he even sounds like Hunter.)

With a gasp and a twitch she throws all her mental walls back up, knocking the datapad off her lap and sending it clattering to the floor. Lana startles, too, hands moving to her temples as her eyes fly open.

Was that-?

She sighs. Unintentional. I’m not sure what he might be able to do through a one-sided connection, but I assume you’re not particularly interested in finding out.

You would be correct. When Lana stands she’s wobbly on her feet, hanging onto the back of the couch and then the edge of the holotable as she makes her way to the refresher. Excuse me. Door half-shut behind her, barely audible but unmistakable over the sound of running water, she retches- once, twice, then splashing at the basin and the tap shutting off. When she emerges again she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand before returning to sit beside her, face colorless and lips pressed tight together and completely avoiding her questioning gaze.

That was cruel of me, she whispers after a minute into the silence between them. I apologize.

You don’t- I really did think you’d agree with me. Her head doesn’t move but her eyes dart sideways, briefly, before she focuses back on the far wall. I only had a few seconds to make the decision, and we hadn’t heard back from you. It might have been our last real chance to get to the heart of things. But- Lana wipes her face again, the pressure of her fingertips leaving faint pink marks on her forehead and down her cheeks- Force help me. No wonder you were so angry. And no wonder Theron hated me for it, if what you showed me was anything like what happened with Revan.

Reaching down for the fallen datapad, she shuts it off, sets it on the table. Different goals, so it’s not an even comparison. Close enough for our purposes, though. And again, I didn’t mean for Valkorion to interfere. That part of the exercise was supposed to be theoretical but he-

Is that what it feels like all the time? Lana interjects, finally looking at her again. I don’t know how you stand it.

No, thankfully. Only when he’s active, which isn’t terribly often. Sometimes I almost forget.

(Then I shall have to endeavor, he says, the thought snaking around her consciousness like creeping ivy, to be more memorable.)

But only almost. Going back to the point: do you remember anything you heard of the recording I was playing?

Not a damned thing. I barely knew it was there, let alone being able to focus on it. That- she bares her teeth, an expression halfway between apology and pain. Ah, fuck, that hurt so much, Nine.

That makes her blink; she can count on one hand the number of times she’s heard her really properly swear. I know. I’m sorry.

Me, too, Lana says. Me, too.

Suddenly she’s tired. As they both lean back, letting the cushions bear them up, they settle against each other, shoulder against shoulder, pressure and weight comforting in their familiarity. (For a moment she thinks of Yavin IV, after the battle, huddled exhausted on a fallen pillar waiting for evac back to base camp, with her body accorded neutral territory between Theron on her right and Lana on her left. Six years on, everything and nothing at all have changed.)

What was the third option? You knew the second was the right one, but-

Oh. Yes. She chuckles faintly. Option three was somewhere between the first two. You weren’t a Revanite, but you’d run out of patience. You knew Jakarro’s intel on the house was wrong- through the Force, maybe, I don’t know how- and you set Theron up deliberately. You sent me to Torch’s island to keep me from interfering and you threw him to the wolves. Our last best chance.

You know I didn’t.

She runs her hand along the underside of her opposite wrist, along the half-moon indentations left by five neat fingernails. You were a bad liar back then, and I’m about as Force-sensitive as a rock but I know a lie when I hear one. I believed you.

I’ve had too much practice between then and now, Lana murmurs, but not to you. For the sake of curiosity, what would have happened had you decided it was option three?

If I thought that you were capable of that, after all we’d already done together? Raising her index finger, she brushes the bangs off Lana’s forehead then taps sharply, once, exactly in the center. It would have been quick. But I’d have blown your fucking head off.)

***

They rent a boat at the dock.

“A hunting party,” she tells the Rishii at the slip. Anywhere else that would have raised eyebrows, given Kaliyo’s hauling a backpack that’s half her size and entirely full of explosives- she’d told her, when she called the ship, to come loaded for bear and by the look of it she’d emptied the armory- but today the Rishii just unties the lines and wishes them good hunting.

There’s something to be said for pragmatism, though she doubts Theron would agree at the moment.

The little village on the island’s surprisingly welcoming, too, considering they’ve lost half their territory to an armed camp of fanatics; within half an hour they’ve got a temporary base set up in a stone-and-thatch hut with a good view of the valley beyond. To go by the comm traffic Dee-Four’s intercepted so far the Revanites’ main stronghold is somewhere on the far side of the island, hidden in the dense jungle, but the native scouts don’t seem to know any more than they’ve managed on their own.

So she and Kaliyo ride out on borrowed speeders, leaving Lana and Jakarro in the village to keep sorting through data.

(She’d left Jakarro a one-line message: instructions, just in case her gut instinct had played them wrong and Lana made another move in her absence.

Lana doesn’t need to hear that, though. In retrospect it was paranoia, and she’s hurt her enough already for today.)

“Bad intel and no plan. Lucky for you, I hate plans.” Kaliyo turns to her at the top of the valley path as they pull a camouflage net over the speeders; engines tuned for endurance, the bikes make far too much noise to reach the camp unnoticed but at least they’re close now. “We’re cloaking in, yeah?”

“Yes. The closer we get without alarms up, the more likely Theron’s still alive when we get there.”

She nods, adjusts the stealth device. “Syncing now. How are we playing if we’re blown?”

“Hard and fast. We don’t have time or personnel for surrenders.” Slipping her rifle free of her back harness, she checks it one last time. “Shoot to kill.”

“My favorite words. And it’s not even my birthday.” Kaliyo flashes her a quick grin but she doesn’t return it, and after a moment she shrugs and finishes tying down the net. “We’ll get there. What’s his clock at?”

She looks down at her chrono, at the third timer counting inexorably upward beneath the little dials of local and Standard Time. “Three hours and six minutes. Let’s move.”

***

The Imperial commander, a pathetic grasping little Sith of the sort ubiquitous around the Kaas City Sanctum, wants to talk and wants out of the Revanite mess but doesn’t know anything at all- utterly typical. Killing him would only waste time, though, so she sends him and his honor guard packing and moves on to the Republic camp; one less leader’s still progress, if only a little.

The Republic compound guards, on the other hand, refuse to stand down. They waste a quarter-hour trying to snipe from cover before she lets Kaliyo blow the place to pieces, a block of detonite on the back door and four grenades through the skylight an inelegant but effective solution.

They haven’t time for elegance. This is taking far too long.

The captain’s dying when they finally get through the door into the main room, his belly full of shrapnel as he drags himself toward a terminal against the far wall. She puts her foot on the back of his neck, tilts her head toward the terminal. Kaliyo moves toward it, pulling out a spike to transfer the data.

“Going somewhere?” To judge by his pallor he’ll bleed out soon. “I can make the pain stop, you know. All you have to do is tell me where to find Revan.”

The man coughs, looks up at her out of the corner of his eye as he stops resisting, going limp against the floor. “I don’t know-” another cough- “I don’t know where Revan is. But there’s a stronghold to the northeast, in the other valley, where they took Theron Shan. Revan might be-” he gasps, shifting under the pressure of her boot. “Please. It hurts.”

“Only for a moment,” she says, and fires a round into the back of his head.

***

Time since capture: four hours, twenty-eight minutes. Probability of survival: 83 percent.

***

The captain’s data tells them four useful things.

First, that prisoners are held in the largest building in the far valley complex, surrounded by turrets and watchtowers and military-grade door encryptions, and that the codes on the spike are yesterday’s.

Second, that Revan’s warships wait on a nearby island for a signal that hasn’t yet been given, the purpose of which is still unclear.

Third, that the First Imperial Fleet, Darth Marr at its helm, will pass through Rishi space tomorrow morning.

And fourth, that the bulk of the Republic fleet, ostensibly on a patrol mission (but who brings one’s entire fleet on a patrol mission?) along the Manda Merchant Route, is due to jump to Rishi-

“Tomorrow.” She swears, and pushes back from the terminal with a frustrated huff. “That’s Revan’s plan. They’ll come out of hyperspace right on top of each other. It’ll be a slaughter.”

Lana shakes her head. “That can’t be all of it. Darth Marr wouldn’t risk the entire fleet without at least attempting to contact the Republic commander, not this far from reinforcements, and the moment Revan puts himself in play-”

“What’s the Republic flagship? Do we know?” She paces back and forth along the inside of the little hut. “If it’s Saresh at the helm, or one of her puppets, Marr may not have a choice.”

“Unclear.” Dee-Four chimes in. “I am still attempting to decrypt the remaining files, but the information is incomplete.”

The information is incomplete- it’s the chorus to a song she just can’t get out of her head.

“Then we continue with the original plan,” Lana says, head still bowed over the console. “We attempt to extract Theron from the stronghold and hope he- or we- learned something in the meantime.”

(Did I really say that? Lana wrinkles her nose. Extract. Rather like a sliver. Or a parasite.

She laughs; they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and she elbows her teasingly. It’s the right word for it, technically speaking, though Theron would probably be offended by the comparison. And yes, you did.

I don’t- I didn’t mean it like that.

I know, she says. Although he does have a knack for getting under one’s skin, doesn’t he?)

Only four kolto syringes in the bag, and another two in her belt pouch- she loads the extras in with hers, but it won’t be nearly enough. “We? You’re not going anywhere. I need Kaliyo to talk to the village leader. If they have healing supplies, buy everything you can.” She throws a credit chip across the room and Kaliyo palms it, tucks it into a pocket with a nod. “Think Corellia. And call Lokin. I need him standing by.”

Kaliyo makes a face and nods again; Lana and Jakarro simply look confused.

“I need you and Jakarro to keep running that data and try to reach the fleets,” she continues, “and I’m going to need slicing support when I hit the valley.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” Arms folded across her chest, Lana shakes her head emphatically. “Far too dangerous. If you’re captured-”

She fixes her with a flat stare as she fastens the pouch. “If I’m captured, Theron dies. Believe me, I’m well aware of the risk.”

“Cipher, please. We can’t afford to lose both of you.”

“Of course you can’t. But you ought to have thought of that before.” Turning on her heel, she leaves the hut.

***

Time since capture: five hours, forty-two minutes. Probability of survival: 71 percent.

***

She drags the guard behind the watchpost before she comms Lana. Night’s fallen over the island and he won’t be getting up again, of course- he never saw her coming and she opened his throat, quick and quiet- but there are other guards and it wouldn’t do to have one of them notice the body.

“I need to keep moving,” she whispers. “If you can get the perimeter systems offline, it’d make my life a lot easier.”

“On it. Jakarro?” There’s a rumble of assent somewhere in the background, and after a few seconds the turrets around the watchpost power down; she watches on the monitor as the rest of the system follows suit. “I’ve got schematics for the main building. Sending the file now.”

Two quick buzzes. She pulls up the diagram, flips her eyepiece down to overlay it on her vision. (She hates the eyepiece: too many people become reliant on them, forgetting how to navigate or aim or track without artificial assistance. But she can’t afford a wrong turn, not today.) “Any cameras inside? Looks like that building goes deep.”

“A few. Just a moment. I’m getting the hang of this slicing business, but- there we- oh.” Lana trails off, going quiet. “No live feeds, I’m afraid, but there are logs from the interrogation room.”

“Timestamp?”

“Half an hour ago. Should I-”

Ah, Force, if she’s already too late- “Load it.”

The feed angle’s bad, just a surveillance camera rather than a proper interrogation recording; she can barely see Theron around the robed figure standing beside the table. The volume’s low, too, nearly impossible to hear when routed through her comm, but that’s definitely his voice, shaky and pained, and someone answering from out of frame-

Lana hisses. “Revan.”

The image shudders, static cutting across the screen, and Theron screams. She knows that noise. She’s made that noise.

(I’d forgotten that recording.

I’m not surprised, she says. It’s not something most people would choose to remember.)

Fuck.

“Get the main doors open.” She takes off across the walkway toward the main building, still stealthed but practically running, still too slow. “I’m going in.”

***

Time since capture: seven hours, three minutes. Probability of survival: 58 percent.

***

It is not for nothing that they call her the Ghost of the Empire, and not only because she no longer has a name.

Blasters, even silenced, make noise. A hand over a mouth, a knife edge darting swiftly over arteries or a point slipping neatly between two ribs- no wasted energy, each movement precise and possessed of a morbid sort of beauty, and there is something intensely satisfying, especially on days like today, about someone else’s blood on one’s hands.

There were ten guards roaming the quiet hallways between the front door and the main control room; now there are none, the alarms still untriggered, and her exit route is clear for another forty minutes until change of watch. Sneaking past would have been faster and infinitely less messy, but even if she can reach Theron without being detected she doubts it’ll stay that way once he’s free and he’ll be slow enough, probably, without needing to fight the guards as they flee.

An ounce of preparation, as the saying goes.

If the schematics are right the holding cells should be just through this room. As she crosses the threshold, though, the holotable in its center activates and-

pressure sensor? they can’t see me maybe it’s just a guard checking in don’t make a noise don’t get caught don’t get caught

“Hello, Cipher,” Revan says. “Excellent timing. We’re just beginning to implement the last stage of the plan. You’ll be able to witness it finally come to fruition.”

Well. That’s that.

I’m sorry, Theron.

She switches off her stealth generator. “Revan. This could have all been avoided if you’d only stayed dead, you know. Where’s Theron?”

He laughs at that, the bastard. “That’s unimportant. As are you. Do you really think you can stop what’s been set in motion?”

“I’ve heard that before. Why don’t you tell me the details and we’ll see?”

Revan laughs again, a cold metallic echo behind his mask. He isn’t here, then. He’d have come for her by now if he was here. “Bold little thing. Pity. When the Republic and the Empire destroy each other, when we craft a new world out of the ashes of the old, there might have been a place for you in it. But I suspect you’d be less than cooperative.”

“Believe it or not, I tend to react badly when people try to kill my friends.” Slowly, she starts toward the door, edging little by little along the margin of the table. If she can get to the prison corridor before the alarm sounds, maybe there’s still a chance. “Your battle hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t won.”

“So stubborn. Theron couldn’t be persuaded either, though I suppose that shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Arms folded across his chest, the hologram Revan shakes his head. “Tenacity runs in our blood, even if-”

Our?

She’s almost to the far door when it slides open abruptly, the concussive edge of an explosion in the hallway beyond knocking her back against the holotable as it flickers and dies and Revan disappears. As she struggles to right herself, a cluster of blaster bolts rockets past the open door- not through; whoever’s firing isn’t aiming at her.

Alarms in the corridor. Footsteps, too, irregular but fairly quick, moving closer, rounding the doorframe- “Don’t listen to him! There’s still a chance.”

“Theron.” How long has she been holding her breath? Suddenly, somehow, she can breathe again. “You’re alive.”

Blaster clutched in his hand, he slaps the panel beside the door and it hisses closed, the lock engaging. “Mostly. I-” He staggers, clutching at the edge of the table, his wrist ringed with a deep gouge just visible under his jacket cuff, two fingers of his left hand unbending and the angle of his thumb somehow wrong. “We’ve got to get to their signal jammer. Revan’s blocking all communication over Rishi space and he’s got saboteurs in both fleets- they’ll take down shields, weapons, everything. If we can’t warn them before they get here, it’ll be a massacre. They-” Out of breath, he trails off.

He learned something after all. Clever boy.

“That’s the piece of the puzzle we were missing. We knew about the fleets, but not the sabotage.” Force, he looks terrible. “Here. I’ve got kolto, but we’ve got to get out of here before someone realizes all the entrance guards are dead. We can update Lana and Jakarro on the move.”

Theron finally seems to see her- how he can see anything with both eyes purpled and swollen nearly shut, his nose puffy and oozing blood and his lower lip split is beyond her comprehension. “I didn’t think anyone was going to come. I got out of the restraints and grabbed my gear, figured I could make it to the front door, but I forgot about the droids-” he gasps when he tries to straighten. “Then I heard you. I should have known you’d come for me.”

That explains his thumb- with no lockpick, there’s only one good way to get out of cuffs. Reaching into her pouch for the first two kolto injectors, she crouches next to him, presses one into each of his thighs and hits the buttons. “I had to- sorry,” she says as he flinches, “I wasn’t going to leave you. Not like this. Not after what Lana did.”

“She told you?”

“Yes.“

Theron sighs. “Did she mean for this to happen?”

“No.”

“And you believe that.” He doesn’t, clearly, his mouth curling and his tone incredulous.

She chuckles, discarding the empty syringes. “I had a blaster pointed at her face. She might have been lying, but I rather doubt it.”

He blinks down at her. “You had a bl- you’re kidding.”

“Do I look-” she pulls two more syringes and sinks them home, hands him a clean cloth to hold against his bleeding mouth- “like I’m kidding?”

“Not really, no.” His color’s a little better, but only a little, and something about his posture makes her nervous. “Still, better me than you. Revan would have just killed you. He wanted me to join him, wanted me to- you heard him. Our blood. Our legacy.” When she rises he leans on her. “Fuck legacy. He’s insane.”

“You’re related to Revan.” It isn’t a question.

Theron nods again, then stops, his eyes unfocused from too much movement. “It’s… complicated. I don’t even know how he knew. He could just tell, somehow- he got inside my head- he-”

(Did you know?

Not then. I knew of the Shan line of Jedi from my research- Theron’s grandmother Tasiele had some intriguing ideas about the Force- but it’s a common name. Lana shakes her head. I didn’t make the connection until I saw him with Satele.)

The entire building shakes and he stumbles again, balanced between her and the table, and a second alarm starts to shriek above the first. Power core cooling offline. Time to detonation: five minutes.

“It can’t ever be easy, can it?” She lifts his arm over her shoulders and he gasps again, inhaling, and she can feel the shudder move beneath her through every muscle of his back. “Ready to move?”

“Easy’s for amateurs.” That might have been a wink, though it’s hard to tell with his eyelids still half-closed. “I’m ready. The generator’s two rooms over, I think, with a console. I can-” he looks to his left hand, the unmoving fingers. “I can talk you through it.”

“I’ve got you.” As they start to move she has to fight to stay upright; he’s leaning on her hard and he’s at least a hand taller than she is, but she’s got him. They don’t have a choice. “Let’s go.”

(Even after all of that, she says, we would have died if not for you.

One corner of Lana’s mouth barely moves, the faintest hint of a smile. Theron taught me some slicing, those months that we were running. Without him I wouldn’t have had any idea how to disable a power core.

Well, thank the Force for that.)

***

Somehow they make it to the woods, to the clearing where she’d hidden the speeder, and when Theron slumps over onto the seat she gives him the last two injections.

“If you sit behind me, can you hold on?”

“I think so. How’s your driving?” He’s still ashen, his color off; Kaliyo’d scrounged up another half-dozen doses of kolto, though, so if they can make it back to the village he should be fine. (Should be. She needs a scanner or better, Doctor Lokin, but they’ll have to get back to Raider’s Cove for that and the fleets are less than eight hours away and-

They can do this.)

She fires up the speeder, sliding onto the seat in front of him. “Lead foot and no sense of self-preservation?”

“Liar- you keep yourself alive just fine. But in that case you should take up swoop racing.” Theron’s arms slip around her waist as she takes off down the trail, his chest against her back. “Those are pretty much the only prerequisites.”

“‘m too heavy, I think. Swoop racers are all built like birds.” Looking back over her shoulder, she checks their tail. Clear, finally.

“True. I was a lot lighter,” he says into her ear, “back then.”

She laughs, though she isn’t sure he hears her over the noise of the engine. “What, some kind of SIS cover story?”

“Way before that. Misspent youth.” When they hit a tree root he winces, holding onto her tighter. “I’ll… I probably shouldn’t, but if we survive this, I’ll tell you some of the story, alright?”

“You definitely shouldn’t, but I’m holding you to that. Just a little further.”

Theron’s quiet the rest of the way back to the village, another twenty minutes’ journey over the rough forest paths, and finally, finally, she can see the narrow way up to the hut and brings the bike to a halt just in front of it.

“We’re here-” she kills the engine- “you can let go now.”

He doesn’t.

“Theron? Are you okay?”

When she turns to look at him the twisting of her body breaks his grip; he lets go and falls, sideways, toward the dirt and his eyes don’t open and she can’t catch him at this angle and-

“Lana!” Her cry echoes off the cliff faces around them and back into the valley. “Lana, I need your help.”

***

Author’s Notes:

-Another experimental chapter, sorry. I heard you like flashbacks, so I put some flashbacks in- hm. Quite enough of that.

-Per Annihilation, Theron was, in fact, a swoop bike racer at some point in his teens. I can see it.

Up next: Bright Spot, in which your exasperated author may just build voodoo dolls of these two idiots and scream NOW KISS at them until they decide to cooperate.

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

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crqstalite · 5 years

Text

pt. 3, lover boy (kira && kiveqil)

gah,, writing this was kinda hard because it serves as exposition for the deluxes and for kiveqil n kira’s relationship, which is harder to write because among the others (andronikos, aric, corso, vector n mako) kira is my absolute favorite to romance, so i’m trying my best not to butcher her.

also i ended up writing hakio n aric into this chapter. i was just getting through chapter one of the trooper storyline, so that’s why it’s off. oh, n thek.

small tw : mentions of anxiety attacks, and anxiety causing situations, as well as mentioned cutting. i should tw the whole series but these are the most important. please be careful.

written : 6.12.19. published to tumblr : 7.6.19. word count : 2,570.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

character song : sorry, halsey

character file : kiveqil delux, hero of tython

Kiveqil can’t say he’s ever really been afraid of anything. Not that he can remember. Very closely at least.

Fire.

He’s always been the good one, the strongest in the force in his class.

Flames.

The first to graduate as a youngling.

Burning.

Considered a prodigy by his master.

Smoke.

That he can do anything once he sets his mind to it.

Screams.

That he’s a hero.

Crying.

That he can save the galaxy.

Shock.

That he’s a symbol of peace.

Loss.

He’s the reason so many are alive today.

Fear.

He’s twelve again, just barely learning of his force-sensitive abilities. One moment, he’s with his older sister and younger sister, fuzzy memories of both, one a Zabrak, the other a dark-skinned girl. They’re all smiling, even though one of them is not eating and the food is dismal at best. He’s listening through a door, while his sister sleeps fitfully. Someone is yelling, then they’re both yelling. Slipping into the room, his presence masked as a trick he picked up from his late mother as a child. His sister is crying, as she slams her hand down on the kitchen table. His father is talking animatedly, clearly extremely angry. Both Zabraks are at their breaking points, he can feel it. Somewhere in-between fear and shock, he can feel something tickling him, as if he could just ask them one question, and persuade him to stop yelling at his sister.

He doesn’t.

He cowers in fear in his bedroom.

His sister is nearly dragging on his coattails as he pulls something that looks like a lighter out of his long coat pocket. Her eyes widen, begging him not to do ‘it.’ He doesn’t know what it is, but his heart is racing as the man flicks his sister away from him before he takes the cap off of the thing, a red flame licking the metal around it.

Before he can even blink, the apartment is up in flames, the alarms are screaming. The red and yellow stain his vision as his father rushes to him as his sister rushes into the other room, as he hears her hurried basic and his sister’s screams.

He’s being dragged along, as he yells his sister’s name. It’s fuzzy, he can’t remember what it it was, as the flames roar over their faces, as he screams again, hoping to see his daring, fearless older sister burst through the flames with his younger sister.

But instead, the door slams shut, and his father shatters the keypad, dragging him along by his wrist. “She’s not worth it to you, I will have you become a true jedi, Kiveqil.”

Then, years and years later. Just a few months ago that the scars are still new. Flames are leaping everywhere as he keeps Kira behind him, the Bounty Hunter who’d caused this already gone. He’s nearly paralyzed, terrified of the memories of fire that still haunt him to this day. He’s trying to stay strong, for Kira, but it seems she’s in just as much shock as he is.

But, he’s not powerless.

He’s trained to deal with these things.

He wishes he was when he was a child.

The fearful eyes of his sister haunt him, her electric blue eyes sending a shock through his system as he remembers her.

Her fearless attitude.

How she raised him and his sister from nothing. With no money, without a degree in anything, just promised protection from the rival gangs with only a blaster and a hell of a shot. Abandoned by their mother on Nar Shaddaa while she was only fourteen, Kiveqil just barely eight. He figured his sister was a better mother than his real one would ever be.

She always understood as he fiddled with his strange force powers, even if she didn’t understand. Gave him space when he needed it, tough love when he needed it, kisses and hugs when he needed it.

Taught him how to shoot his first blaster, point blank and rather off target, but enough to protect himself.

Then the little girl entered their lives, yellow eyes and all. Small, angry, malnourished, depressed. Kiveqil had just turned ten, and she finally admitted to his older sister that she was only nine at the time. His older sister had started to give up what little rations she could purchase for the little girl to eat. Weak and fragile, Kiveqil could see the cracks, in her, jumpy, fearful nature. Retreating inside her own mind, the little girl was falling apart from the outside in.

Kiveqil and his older sister made it their job to put her back together. Finding stupid little children’s toys for her to play with, though she’d reject them. Make stupid jokes to get her to even crack a small grin in a row of yellow, missing teeth. Make pigtails out of her blonde, thinning hair.

It took two years to get her to a level where she would speak regularly. Two years to hear her sarcastic thoughts and cynic beliefs. Two years before Kiveqil even heard her utter a giggle.

It took two years for it to fall apart like that. His older sister rarely if ever made enough credits to feed the two children under her care, and Kiveqil often gave his meager portions to the girl without his older sister k nowing.

Her terrified face. When he left the apartment, he sobbed all the way to Carrick Station, his father slapping him so hard he fell, reeling from the pain. “Stop your cryin’ about somethin’ you can’t control. Get the fuck up and be a man.”

They were dead.

“Kiveqil! Don’t leave me!”

And it was all his fault.

He bolted up, sticky with sweat. He’s hot, too hot. At some time during his nightmare-plagued sleep, he’d thrown off his shirt, but sweat dripped down his face and chest as if he were below the twin suns of Tatooine. In the darkness, he can barely fumble to make sense of his surroundings.

He’s in his quarters.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Breathing hard, he drags a slow hand down his face, almost second nature. They run across the burns on the right side of his face, old and they have faded, but not enough to be forgotten. He’s getting scared again, feeling the burns dotting his skin, rough below his fingers as an everlasting scar. Kira once asked where they were from while they were alone in the cockpit, but he could never be strong enough to tell her the real reason.

He had promised to tell her one day.

He’s haunted by these memories. The fire episode with the hunter wasn’t too long ago, but it was enough for him to continually panic around fire. Even the fireplace Kira had invited him to back on Hoth had sparked enough of a panic attack he had to sit outside long enough to calm down.

The bounty hunter had nearly scared him into a full-blown panic attack. He hadn’t realized that his anxiety had gotten so bad after finishing the Emperor on Dromound Kaas, before he’d come in contact with another trigger and Doc had to help pull him out of a trance before he hurt himself.

He never would forget waking up restrained and foggy headed, feeling so out of control. Kira had worriedly been pacing the room the whole time before he regained control and woken, but it was later explained he was muttering all sorts of things, his worst fears, clipped memories of the fire, of his sisters. What had scared Kira so much to go and find Doc was that he had a vibroknife in hand and was making motions to stab himself, or slit his wrists, muttering “they should’ve lived” over and over again.

“I’m not a psychiatrist, Kiv, but I think what you’re suffering from is called 'survivor’s guilt’, and most likely, panic attacks. All of us get it, seeing others die when we were close enough to death’s grasp to suffer the same fate, y'know?” Doc had said once he came to. “It can cause depression, suicidal tendencies, the whole nine yards. For your safety, and added, mine and the crew’s, I think we’ll keep the matches and knives away from you for now.”

“What kind of Jedi am I if I can’t even protect those closest to me?” He muttered under his breath as he moved to leave the room. Doc stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, shit happens Kiv. Not speaking for everyone else, but we can protect ourselves pretty alright. You’re more of an extra layer of security.” Doc was trying to make light of the situation, but lighthearted comedy was never really his thing. “Really Kiv, don’t worry about it too much. You’re gonna be alright.”

He was grateful for his crew, even if Lord Scourge didn’t understand his lighter motives, Rusk was always concerned about combat effectiveness and Doc was more concerned with the fame than doing good. T7-01 and Kira hadn’t given him too much grief, but if T7 continued playing pranks on him now that they no longer had as much of a responsibility to the Republic, and Kira continued playing forbidden tease, then he might just bury himself in the sands of Tatooine and wait to die.

Which honestly, didn’t sound all that bad.

A loud rap came on his door, making him jump nearly five feet into the air, purely in fear. Shivering, he pulled on his shirt, though it clung to him and his sweaty body. It couldn’t be that late in the morning, Kiveqil often found himself to rarely if ever sleep at a normal time, and didn’t usually get much more sleep than a couple of hours at a time. A quick glance to the clock met him with it being what Doc called an 'ungodly time of night’ as he sighed, his hand ghosting over his lightsaber before figuring he would know if an intruder had gotten on the ship.

Then again…

Hand shaking, his hand flitted over the pad on the wall, the door opening with a hiss into the powered down ship.

He was right in his original sense of someone familiar. Kira stood outside his door, bleary eyed in her nightclothes. Sometimes she’d do this, visit him at odd times of night, but she’d stopped doing that a while ago due to the her worrying offhandedly that if she scared him within the 'recovery’ period after everything, she’d get hurt unintentionally. He’d promised he wouldn’t, but she’d kept their interactions to the mornings and afternoon hours to his dismay.

“Kiv, are you alright?” She whispered, looking around for a moment as if to confirm no one else was awake.

“Of course, Kira. Why wouldn’t I be?” He half-heartedly asked. She gave him a critical stare before answering.

“You had another panic attack didn’t you?”

“What?”

“Considering there are a multitude of other things you could’ve been doing to get that sweaty, and the fact I know you, I can safely assume it was either that or a nightmare.” She whispers, running a hand through her red hair. It isn’t as severely cut as it once was, hanging around her neck in a ruby halo. It’s as pretty in the dark as it is in the daytime. Her face softens, standing in the doorframe. “Kiv, I really do worry about you.”

“I know, Kira.” He says, willing the phantom burning not to return. “I know you do.”

“Then this is the part where you admit it’s a good thing I do.” She says, only halfway joking as a small smile crosses her lips, stepping inside the room as the door closed behind her. “That you’re gonna be alright.”

“I admit that it’s a good thing you care about me, Kira.” Kiveqil smiles himself, the nightmare falling away as Kira comes closer. They fall into each other, Kira stepping onto her toes to press her lips to his. She’s salty, but a twang of sweet behind it. There’s a new fire burning, but rather than one that scars him to this day, it’s the girl he has in his arms, and the love that burns bright between them. “And that I will be alright.”

He didn’t get many opportunities to be with her, alone like this at least. Often the others on the crew wandering the seemingly too small ship. Scourge had once pointed out it wasn’t in the Jedi code to make attachments when he’d caught Kiveqil typing out a letter to who he’d foolishly addressed it to 'my one and only’ before lying to the Sith lord it was for his mother. He couldn’t actually remember ever admitting to anyone that his mom had been assumed dead for a long time, but Scourge never asked him about it again, so either he was still digging around in Kiveqil’s history or had forgotten about it.

Kiveqil figured if Scourge knew this, that he wouldn’t exactly put it past Doc or Rusk to know either. T7 had nearly caught them together on multiple occasions, and though he trusted the astromech, T7 had his own responsibilities to the Council. Whether he’d rat them out, Kira and Kiveqil didn’t want to give him the opportunity to even try it.

“I missed you today.” She says, looking up to him as they pull apart. “Or yesterday, depending on how you see the time.”

“I know. I missed you too.” He turns the lights in his quarter on, dimming them down so that he can still make out her face in the darkness, but dark enough so that he doesn’t burn out his retinas. “Relief efforts getting any better?”

“They always are.” She says, tentatively wandering her way to Kiveqil’s bed. Sitting down, she sighs before slumping back, then making herself comfortable on the pillows he’d been laying on only moments before. “That commander I was telling you about the other day? I’m halfway to considering she’s a Wampa out to get me or something.”

Kiveqil slides in next to her so that he’s facing her. There’s something magical about watching as she animatedly explains her day from start to finish, her blue eyes always coming to rest on his brown. He runs his hands through her ruby red hair, just to distract her if she becomes too into whatever she’s talking about. When they’d first met, Kiveqil wasn’t excited to have a padawan, especially a cynic one like her. But years passed, and she began to show her true colors to him, and vice versa. The late nights like these only made him more and more glad he’d thrown caution to the wind and just chosen to live his life with the woman he loved.

“Kiv! Are you even listening anymore?” Kira asked, giving him a look that said she knew he wasn’t. But also that she didn’t care, a smirk crossing her features.

“Yes, I was listening, Kira.” He said, acknowledging the things she said, making an effort to make comments back. His girlfriend could go on for ages about how much work the commander made her do, though in reality they’d been through worse fighting the Empire.

If anything, he was getting tired of doing paperwork and such. The coalition on Corellia didn’t end when he left the planet, and the Council’s next mission was to continue an effort like that onto other planets, primarily in Hutt space. Since Kiveqil had never said no to the opportunity, he often was the acting commander on these issues.

Kiveqil was a Jedi Knight, not a desk worker.

He’d met the commander that Kira spoke of, a short but suprisingly strong and buff dark skinned cyborg woman, who rocked a bald head, by the name of Hakiojkl, who ordered they call her Hakio. She seemed professional when he’d met her, but as Kiveqil had picked up from other people around the galaxy, he considered her very 'starchy’. Another word for uptight. Hakio was the new commander of Havoc Squad, though she’d admitted quietly to him that it was because the old Havoc Squad had defected, and that she and her second-in-command, Aric Jorgan, were the only two current members operating in Ord Mantell space.

She quieted down after a bit, snuggling herself into Kiveqil, her head resting only a few inches from his, hands underneath her head. She’s was beginning to tire, he could tell. It’d been a long day for both of them, and this was the most they’d spoken today. “Hey, Kira?”

“Mm?” She asked, looking up at him with her full attention now.

“I love you.”

She grinned, “I know that.”

“I really love you, Kira.”

“I know.” She said again, pulling him closer to her so that not even a millimeter seperated them. “I really love you too.”

To say the least, when he woke up in the morning, he wasn’t scared, the nightmare chased away by fantastical dreams and the woman he was lucky enough to call his one and only. Closing his eyes again, sneaking a moment just to admire his sleeping beauty, he went back to sleep, figuring his commander duties could wait another few hours.

#swtor #star wars the old republic #swtor oc #oc #original character #kira carsen #male jedi knight/kira carsen #kiveqil delux #swtor fanfiction #swtor fanfic

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themclovenlegacy · 6 years

Text

So I haven’t wrote fanfics in years, so sorry if it isn’t what you’re wanting when you read this.

This is kind of the story about that time when they were discovered on Nar Shaddaa before they were sent to the academy, so some things may not even make sense since I know very little about the ins and outs of that planet. Please bare(bear?) with me.

“Ouch,” Oddosal quietly yelp as Shaynasa worked on closing the wound on his arm. They were hidden behind several large carts that blocked an alcove. They discovered the area when they first arrived in the Corellian Sector, after escaping their master and removing their collars. There was just enough space to squeeze in and hide from this men searching for them.

“Keep it down you big idiot, it doesn't even hurt,” Shay said as she concentrated on the slowly closing wound, “it’s your own felt that you got bit by one of those hounds. If you hadn’t shocked it to death, it would have taken your arm. Luckily you’re just gonna have a pretty lame scar instead.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one fighting to provide for this family. I should leave you here in fend for yourself then,” he snarled as she finished up on his arm.

She silently inspected her work for a moment, remaining calm before quickly jabbing him in the side with her finger and letting loose a small shock of her own. He jerked back and knocked his head into the archway wall behind him before cursing in pain. She let out a faint huffing laugh as he grumbled at her.

“First, you couldn't survive with me. You’re smart, but you get in to too many fights to last long without my charm and wit to guide you. Second, we were provided for at the refugee camp we were hiding in, you’re the one who wanted to leave.”

He frowned and looked away from her.

“We left because there were to many people who were eyeing you the wrong way. It was only a matter of time before one of them tried something or sold us out to the Black Suns. The only reason they didn’t know we were slaves was because that nerf herder didn’t like visible markings, he wanted to look like he actually paid his workers and you were his wife’s precious little girl,” he scoffed at the thought.

Shay rolled her eyes before trying to poke him in the cheek next. He grabbed her hand before it could make contact.

“I’m not some weak flower, you know. I was one of their only healers in that camp, they wouldn't have risked losing me or incurring your wrath. Beside, a good shock to people with wandering hands normally did the trick well.”

He straightened up, “Wandering…”

Before he could finish that sentence, a loud screeching could be heard as they watched, shocked, as the container was dragged away from them. Oddosal grabbed Shay by the arm and pushed her into the alcove behind him and stood up, defensively.

Standing in the now open space was a human man. He was dressed in dark blue and purple robes and had some kind of mask covering the bottom half of his face. His eyes were a burning orange and his stare burned as he crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze shifted between the two before settling on Shaynasa hidden in the shadows.

“When my Lord said he sensed powerful force users and sent me to find you, I didn't think I’d find two rats hiding in a hole,” his eye stared at Odd briefly at that statement before shifting back to Shay, “though I guess the girl could be of some use. Her face is pretty enough.” his rasped out, the mask clearly cause the distorted tone.

“Shut your mouth,” Odd growled at the man. Shay couldnt take her eyes off the mysterious man. She could see the flow of power coming off him. She could tell that he was a strong as Oddosal, but clearly far more skilled. She reach up and gripped Odd’s shirt and pulled herself up.

“I think we need to leave,” she whispered behind him. They both watched him warily as the man continued to speak.

“What the matter rats? Cat got your tongue? Have I gotten under your skin? My, My. She must be special to you. Don’t worry I’ll take real good care of her for you,” He smirked as he watch Odd grind his teeth in a snarl.

He shrugged at the sound, his grin turning slimy, “But where are my manners. I’m Abe.”

Shay gripped Odd’s sleeve and tugged it to the side as his balled his fist up. She slowly pushed them away before the doorway and shifted themselves down the wall, Odd’s eyes never leaving the man and always remaining between her and this Abe man.

“Where are you going?” The man suddenly pulled his weapon from his belt and ignited it. They jerked back as the weapon glowed a bright red, one work filled their minds. Sith.

“My Lord sent me to find you. He didn't say I couldn’t play first. If you survive long enough maybe you’ll make it to Korriban to train. If not…” he leap at them suddenly. Odd quickly grabbed Shay, tucked and rolled before the strike landed where they previous stood.

Odd quickly pushed Shay back a few paces, before dodging another strike, the man grinned maniacally at him. They continued this unfair fight for several minutes before Odd landed a hit on the Abe’s open side after a he made a wide swing.

Abe grunted and stumbled back. He frowned as Odd returned to a defensive stance.

“You’re not the first guy I’ve fought with a weapon the has reach while I had nothing but my hands.”

Abe narrowed his eyes before smiling, “How’s this for reach?” He suddenly waved his hand to the side. Odd saw the air shifted before he felt his feet swept from under him. Odd landed on his back hard, dazing him. When he could focus again, Abe was standing over him, chuckling.

“It's too bad. You may have had some potential,” before raising his weapon and striking down.

Suddenly, a purple film appeared and stopped the attack in its tracks, reflecting the impact of the attack back on the man. Both sets of eyes, shifted to Shay, who was holding her hands out in front of her. Faint purple tendrils poured out her fingers as she panted.

Abe stared in surprise before walking up to tap the shield, its walls unyielding. He smirked, “Well aren't you full of surprises? You can already use the force to create a shield.” his smile widen. “The only thing is…,” he began walking towards her. Odd began struggling but discovered he couldn't move very much, only being able to get up on his knees and turn, “until you remove it, the shielded person can’t move from their spot,” He smirked over his shoulder at Odd.

Shay gasped as she struggled to release her hold on Oddosal. Abe smiled as he approached her. He reached up and held her face in a tight grip, fear filling her eyes before slapping it away. He chuckled before lifting his hand to touch her again.

“Don’t worry little mouse, I don’t bi…”

Suddenly Abe gasped and his face fill with pain as electricity filled his body, making him drop his weapon. Shay quickly grabbed it and nearly leaped away from him. When it stopped, Abe dropped to one knee, panting as blood left his mouth from when he bite his tongue in shock.

He turned around to see Odd standing there panting, blue light flickering around his hands and arms. Abe growled and stood up, “you’ll pay for th…” his words cut off with a small ball of lightning to the face, though this time his force shield absorbing it.

“You talk too much,” Odd pants from all the power he put into that first shock,” and you just assume people’s weaknesses and let your guard down. That will get you killed.”

“Why you little…,” The man rasped out as he extended his hand, preparing to just choke Odd to death.

“He’s right, you know.”

They all startled as a fourth voice spoke up. They all turned the newcomer. He was dress similarly to the other man but instead of being human, his skin was red and gold jewelry adored his face. His eyes were crimson as he stared on, eyes shifting between everyone before land on his apprentice.

“My lord,” Abe kneeled before him, head bowed deeply.

He tilted his head at him. “ My dear apprentice, have you not learned anything from my training. You not only allowed yourself to be hit, but also allowed yourself to be bloodied and bested by two untrained slaves.”

His apprentice sagged in shame. His lord sighed.

“Come to me my dear.”

As the man walked back to his master, Odd shifted his way over to Shaynasa. She patted his arm slightly and started filling him with healing energy, knowing a shock like that nearly always tires him.

Once the two men reunite, the red one wipes the blood off the other face, causing him to blush and turn his head away. After staring at him for a moment more, he turns and faces Odd and Shay.

“Hello, I’m Lord Shall. So you are the two I’ve been sensing since I arrived in this sector a week prior. You do quite well hiding from me. Whatever it was that cause you to release such power before must have been a wonder, even though you are both slaves.”

“We are not slaves,” Odd shouted at him while Shay jabbed him in the side. They both received a laugh.

“Do not try to fool me, boy. You have slave written in the very force that surrounds you, though her,” he gestures toward Shay,” I’m not quite sure about. You’re skin is too dark to be from here, somewhere with a lot of sun. Raised normal maybe then into a slave. No probably servent, not aggressive enough like your friend. Doesn’t matter. The point is you both are quite strong in the force so I’m taking you to Korriban for Sith training. You’ll prove your worth there or die trying,” he finished.

“What if we don’t want to?” Oddosal snapped. Shay watch them warily as the two men stared at each other. Suddenly she yelped as the saber in her hand was yanked from her and into the red ones hand and ignited.

“You either come with us peacefully. I give my word that nothing will harm you, especially him,” his head shifted in his partners direction. Abe just grunted and rolled his eyes. “I don't like to share. Or I kill you here where you stand. I am not an untrained and impatient apprentice. I will kill you before you knew I was there,” his eyes suddenly turned cold and empty of all amusement.

They both were shocked as his suddenly change in demeanor. They looked at each other before turning back to them.

“So it’s either follow you and possibly die trying to become Sith or stay and die by a SIth anyway.”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess we can't say no then. Just keep your word and keep that hot pocket and anyone else away from her.”

The amusement was back, “You have my word. Now come, we are leaving. While you were playing, I was making sure I could leave with you. Hutts can be so picky at times.”

Odd and Shay were both filled with dread as they followed behind them. Odd looked at Shay before putting on a strong face at her wary expression.

“Wait, I have one more thing that I have to do,” Odd said as Shay and the Sith turned towards him curiously. Quick as can be for someone of his size, he throw a small bolt at Abe’s backside, shocking him and causing his hair to stand up.

“That's for touching her without permission.”

Everyone was quiet before Lord Shall laughed loudly as his apprentice grimace. Odd smirked as Shaynasa shook her head, both of them feeling a bit better about their new path.

#odd-verse #oc: oddosal #oc: shaynasa #swtor kotfe #swtor kotet #my swtor #swtor #pre-class story #sith inquisitor #sith assassin #sith sorcerer #sith

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