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kunoichi-ume · 4 years

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30 Uncommon Character Development Questions: Noara Starspark

No one asked, but I wanted to do these for Noara. Writing the last little bit has been a struggle (between new job, this quarantine stuff and the fucking earthquake it’s a wonder I can concentrate on anything) so making myself think about these questions is a good exercise. Plus it was a good reason to use this beautiful sketch that @dingoat‘s Ahuska did of my beautiful Jedi girl.

30 Uncommon Character Development Questions and because I did all 30 of them I put it under the cut, just to be polite.

What position does your character sleep in? ( i.e; stomach, side, back, etc. ) Describe why they do this — optional. In a bed that is in a safe location, as much ‘hers’ as any bed ever is, Noara is a starfish. Stretching out across the surface, wrapping the blanket around her limbs, moving in reaction to whatever is happening in her mind. In the field? She doesn’t move much, sleeping lightly enough to wake if anything about her environment changes. It’s not about getting a good night’s sleep in that situation, just getting enough rest to keep going.

Does your character have any noteworthy features? Freckles? Dimples? A scar somewhere unusual? etc. Noara has a noticeable scar on her right cheek but few people look close enough to see the claw mark scars on her neck that she received at the same time. The wounds there were thankfully not as deep as the one on her face.

Does your character have an accent? What does it sound like? Not really, she grew up on a planet that isn’t known for any particular accent and speaks a fairly basic form of Basic with little deviation/special pronunciations.

Do they have any verbal tics? Do they have trouble pronouncing certain words or getting their thoughts across clearly? When she is flustered or nervous she doesn’t quite stutter but she has a hard time getting the words out and will often start to say one and then have to stop midword to change it because it’s not the one she wanted to say.

What are their chief tension areas? Her shoulders and lower back. She tries her best to present an image of a strong, mature Jedi Master that is capable to carry the heavy responsibilities given to her.

If you were to pick one song — and only one song — to describe your character, what would it be and why? Choosing just one is hard, I have a whole playlist for her and most of them could work as the “one” song to sum Noara up but I think I need to go with Brighter by Patent Pending. It is a great mix of being optimistic about the future but also jaded and weighed down by the past, which is very Noara. She has a hard time dealing with everything that has happened to her but refuses to let it define her and never looses sight of the hope that life will get better.

How does your character perceive themselves? Positive? Negative? Neutral? She tends more toward the negative. Noara has no illusions about her lot in life, she is important to a lot of people but not because of who she is - just for what she can do. Her abilities are far more valued than she is for just being herself. Depending on the version of her this is more extreme, in I’ve Got You she is very convinced her abilities are the only why people are around her, in Jedi Sitters she feels like she is a failure as a Jedi because of what happened when she was under the Emperor’s control (and the very fact she was able to being manipulated so completely) and my Sith version of her that I don’t talk about as much as I would like to has no illusions that anyone cares about her until a very stubborn Mandalorian/Republic spy Fynta enters her life.

Are they a quick thinker or do they need time to sort through their thoughts? Quick for sure, she is pretty impulsive actually. When she has time to sort through her thoughts she usually ends up second guessing and doubting herself. Gotta make those choices before her insecurities can catch up.

Does your character dream or are their nights filled with an empty blackness? Describe a dream they’ve had or a night they couldn’t sleep and what they did to preoccupy their time. This one also depends a bit on which version of Noara. In I’ve Got You she doesn’t dream often, or even deal with nightmares, until Valkorian decides it’s a good way to try and manipulate her. Jedi Sitters Noara has constant nightmares and avoids sleep as much as possible, staying up later with caf or meditating until she passes out from exhaustion. Sith Noara’s life is a nightmare, why would sleeping be any different?

If they had a choice, would they prefer a subway or a bus for public transportation? It would be a major trial for Noara to ever be on a subway, it would be very triggering for her claustrophobia. Busses only work because she can see out the windows, doesn’t feel as trapped as she would knowing she was inside a tunnel underground.

What do they think of creation? Do they believe in evolution or do they believe in God? What is their religion like? Noara trusts in the Force but has never been a very religion driven person. She knows the Force is there, and what it does, but big questions like “how did life begin?” don’t really concern her much. Scholars can figure that out as far as she is concerned.

Describe 5 unusual characteristics your muse has.

Despite being a virginal space monk, she loves romance stories - especially ones with hot scenes she can live vicariously through;

Rarely sits in a chair the way it’s meant to be sat in, like perched on the back of a chair or couch, lying on a couch so her head hangs off the cushion and her feet are draped over the back, both feet folded underneath her when on a bench type seat;

Exercises almost obsessively, always working out because sitting still is difficult for her unless she has something to occupy her mind;

Taps her fingers, shakes her leg or fiddles with her thumbs when feeling impatient or anxious;

Wears dark purple makeup in a traditional Nabooian style because it makes her feel like she belongs somewhere, like she had a home at some point, and she doesn’t openly acknowledge the reason being that she has no idea where she is from and feelings like she is missing part of herself by not knowing.

Have they ever been so overwhelmed they had to stop and take a break from something? Yes, it usually ends up with her chasing the bottom of a bottle or working out until she can’t go on anymore.

Are they a team player or do they prefer to be solo? This is such a hard choice for her, Noara likes having people at her back but hates the idea someone could get hurt if she messes up or isn’t fast enough.

Can they multi-task or must they focus on one subject at a time? She is very tunnel minded when it comes to a task, until that one is done she doesn’t really notice the other things she needs to do and often gets overwhelmed if there are too many things to do all at the same time.

What are their best school subjects? What are their worst? List five of each.

Best: Physical Education, Technology/mechanics, Languages, Flight/piloting, Literature.

Worst: History, Philosophy, Biology, Home Economics like sewing/cooking, Math.

Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people? Extrovert, even if she has to force it sometimes. She likes crowds because the focus isn’t going to be on her when there are lots of other people around.

Are they a leader, do they prefer to follow, or would they rather just stay on the sidelines altogether? Noara is in a weird place where this is concerned. She leads, because people look to her for it, because the Jedi Council assigns leadership positions to her, but in almost every case she thinks there is someone else would would be better qualified.

If your character was suddenly challenged, would they rather run away or stay and fight? Noara is a fighter through and through, sometimes to her own detriment, but running away is never her first, second or even third choice. Lana getting her out of the spire was a test of the Sith’s patience in every way.

If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would that person be and why? This depends on the version of Noara.

In I’ve Got You that was the Emperor, but she would never consider that murder. It’s justice and he earned it.

In Jedi Sitters she would give anything to be able to kill the Sith who controlled and abused her after the Emperor “gifted” her to him.

Sith Noara would kill… well most people she has interactions with, but Darth Ira who stole her from the Jedi would be at the top of that list.

Your character has been granted 3 wishes; what would they wish for and why?

First she would wish for peace between the Empire and the Republic - even with magical wishes she doesn’t think they could ever merge into one collation but if the Empire and Sith could see reason and stop the needless violence she would be satisfied.

Second, Noara would ask for the ability to save all the people under her protection - failing to keep someone safe who trusted her is devastating every time it happens.

Third she would want to know her family, who they are, where they are, why they let her go.

Does your character trust people right off the bat or does it take them some time to warm up to someone? It depends how well she can read them through the Force. If she can feel their sincerity she trusts fairly easily, even when the person is a Sith like Lana. If someone is shielding their intentions from her she is very cautious about them.

Do they prefer romance or affection? What is the quickest way to your character’s heart? Affection. Romance for so long is such an unattainable concept to her but affection is rare, something that makes her want to reach out to the person offering it and never let go. Touch starvation is very much something Noara deals with before she has a certain Mando to cuddle next to at every possible opportunity.

Does your character have any enemies? If so, who and why? The Emperor, Valkorian, comes to mind. Most Sith would see her as their enemy as well.

Do they have any weird bedroom habits? Any unusual kinks? Because so much of her life is making choices and giving orders she doesn’t feel qualified to give, she likes letting someone else take charge. She isn’t a sub in every encounter, but Torian having his way with her - and giving her firm directions - is a sure way to get her going.

How does your character prepare for bed? Do they sleep at all or can they stay awake for days on end without trouble? When on her ship or whatever location is serving as a home base at the time, she cleans her face and lets her hair down, changed into pajamas if she doesn't expect a sudden awakening. In the field she doesn’t do much other than assure herself she found a safeish location though her preference is to use an energy stim or two and stay awake and aware - something she has done for days at a time before finally crashing.

If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be? Why didn’t you keep me?

Are they afraid of death? Do they have any regrets? Before Torian, no. She never questioned that she would become one with the Force and it would be a more peaceful existence than her life was. After, and especially after learning his people’s thoughts about the afterlife, she has many doubts about what she believes and if they would be together again. Regrets are a big problem for her, no matter how she feels about death she is going to have plenty of those.

Does your character get restless when things are too quiet or do they favour solitude and silence? Why? So restless! Noara always needs to be doing something, even if it’s meditation. If her mind or body doesn’t have something to do she gets anxious.

Finally; if your character was forced to eat one thing for the rest of their life, what would they choose and why? Well most of her life she has eaten prepacked field rations, the Star Wars equivalent of MREs. So making a responsible, balanced choice she would say those. She needs the nutrition to keep up with both her active lifestyle and maintain her muscle mass. As a petite woman with a high metabolism she has to be conscious of what she eats to keep herself in good condition. Idealistically? Cake, with the loophole that it can be ANY kind of cake. She enjoys sweets and they are such a rare treat for her, the idea of getting to try lots of different varieties and flavors would be very tempting.

#swtor #Jedi Knight #OC: Noara Starspark

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tishinada · 4 years

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Too Much Information: Character Interview

Tagged by @cinlat Thanks! Since you picked Fynta, I’ll go with my favorite trooper, Tery.

► Name ➔ “Po’teryal” aka Colonel Tery.

► Are you single ➔ Marriage isn’t for career officers, or at least not in my mother’s ideas of the military.

► Are you happy ➔ Happy? Not unless it’s military issue. (Koth, if you say anything...)

► Are you angry ➔ Have I talked to General Garza recently?

► Are your parents still married ➔ Pretty sure my mother was never married. Not a topic for dinner conversation in our home.

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ A Republic high security prison cell.

► Hair Color ➔ Gray.

► Eye Color ➔ Err, red? Chiss eyes don’t come in any other color.

► Birthday ➔ Not sure, to be honest. I never believed the date military intelligence gave.

► Mood ➔ Surly.

► Gender ➔ Female.

► Summer or winter ➔ Winter. I’m Chiss.

► Morning or afternoon ➔ Morning. In the morning, you can still have hope for how the day will go.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ That’s...still under discussion. (Hush, Koth.)

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ No. Still not sure I believe in love at all.

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ I did, though I’m not sure you’d really call it a relationship. Finding out that Balkar knew the SIS had implanted a tracking device in me and never told me...was kind of a deal breaker.

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Not that I know of.

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ No, of course not, why would you ask? (Koth, dammit, stop laughing.)

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ That’s a little personal, isn’t it?

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ If I have, they were very good at keeping secrets.

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ No.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ I’m a lot more comfortable with lust. It’s predictable, reliable, and easily ignored.

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Hot Coruscanti lemon tea.

► Cats or Dogs ➔ I’m not sure what those are? Er, tauntauns?

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ A few best friends. I’m...not exactly an extrovert even before you throw in dedicated officer.

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Wild night out, but alcohol-free now. I can still enjoy brawls, anyway.

► Day or night ➔ Night.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Not since I was about 8.

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ Only when drunk.

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ No. I learned as a child to plan. At least once I realized that I couldn’t wish away being a Chiss. Next question.

► Wanted to disappear ➔ Maybe.

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ Eyes. You can tell whether you can trust someone from their eyes. Smiles lie.

► Shorter or Taller ➔ I’m perfectly happy at my height.

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Intelligence first. I...don’t trust easily or quickly.

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook-ups, until recently. (Koth, hush, I know where you sleep.)

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ There was ever only my mother. She gave me everything she had to give. Can...we talk about something else?

►Would you say you have a “messed up life”

➔ My mother was a traitor, I grew up a Chiss in the Republic on a first name basis with half a dozen SIS agents, and I spent my entire career in the Republic with my superiors suspecting my loyalty and being sold out by one person or another. No, my life wasn’t messed up at all.

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ No. Where would I have run TO?

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ How can someone be a friend if you hate them?

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ As I have very few, yes.

► Who is your best friend ➔ It’s a tossup between Elara Dorne and Aric Jorgan. (Koth interrupts: “Dorne, definitely Dorne. Jorgan takes too much fun from interrupting us.”) Koth and I are...still defining our relationship.

► Who knows everything about you ➔ Jonas Balkar comes closest. We’re...still friends, at least.

Let’s see, I’ll tag @riajade01, @celith-wraine, @rainofaugustsith.

#swtor #character interview #po'teryal aka tery #tery #chiss #Trooper

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cinlat · 1 year

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Whiskey and Tihaar: Alderaan Part Two

You can read it by following the above links (for better formatting), or below the cut (for lazy formatting).

This AU is purely self-indulgent. Most chapters will feature a mutual’s OC that they have graciously trusted me with. Everything about this universe is my excuse to play with Fynta and Aric in different roles and have them interact with all the original characters in this fandom that I’ve come to love. Thanks everyone!

Chapter Summary: Every time Fynta and Aric make a little headway, something reminds them that they have nothing in common. These two need a good mediator, and thankfully, one is on the way. Word Count: 5,522 Special guests: @tishinada Ucevi @kunoichi-ume Noara

Alderaan Darth Nemesis Safe House

"Well, that could have gone better." Fynta stared at the darkened archway where Aric had vanished. She still felt his fury and hated that she was the cause. Ironic since she'd spent their first couple of weeks together pushing the Cathar to his limits because. She'd wanted the measure of his temper. Now, she had it.

"He doesn't seem to like me," Nora mused from her position in the opposite entry. She'd held back, keeping Aric at bay while Fynta tried to convince them both not to kill one another. The Chiss hummed in thought, and Fynta silently cursed Ucevi for her secretiveness for once. She knew what was coming before Nora spoke. "He's not Sith, not with the way he wields the Force."

Slowly, Fynta turned to face her hostess. Red eyes widened, then snapped to Fynta. "Please tell me that you didn't bring a Jedi into one of my secret havens."

Though Nora's tone was sweet, the underlying threat was obvious. Fynta blew out a breath and tried to think of a reasonable excuse. "Technically, the Jedi brought me here."

Pale brows reached Nora's hairline, but it was her apprentice who spoke. "Did he defect?"

Noara was still in her early twenties, not yet granted the title of Lord of the Sith. She was strong in the Force, but with too gentle a heart to use it for evil. Thus, she was Darth Nemesis's studious assistant in the public eye. Only a chosen few knew that the girl had once been a Jedi Padawan.

Fynta shook her head. "No, he's still very much a pompous ass." She sighed. "But he's a vital part of my mission. Grandmother approved."

"Does this have anything to do with that information you wanted about Nox?" Nora asked with a wary side glance at her apprentice. Fynta opened her mouth to respond, but the Chiss raised one manicured hand. "Never mind, I don't need to know. So long as Ucevi deems it critical, I'll allow whatever this is." She waved that same hand past Fynta towards where Aric had gone. Judging by Nora's expression, she wasn't pleased with how well the Jedi knew the layout of her safehouse.

Dropping her hand, Nora turned to her apprentice. "Be a dear and activate the service droids. We'll stay only long enough to refuel and restock. Then, I feel as if it's best that we are in the eye of the public while Fynta and her Jedi complete their task."

"Yes, my lord." Noara waited for her master to turn away before leaning closer to Fynta. "Meet me on the blaster range in half an hour. I want to show you my birthday present."

Fynta grinned. She'd taught the youth to shoot once she'd recovered from her stay in Nox's reeducation cells. Noara had come a long way from the skinny child barely holding onto her sanity. Fynta hadn't planned to become someone's hero that day, but she'd never regretted her choice to steal Nox's newest pet. Ucevi had placed the girl with Nora shortly after, and Noara had flourished under that gentle tutelage.

"Deal." Fynta agreed, then she cursed and reached for Noara's arm as the girl turned to leave. "Make it an hour; I need to handle Aric first."

Noara's expression turned serious. "Be nice to him. It can't be easy being surrounded by your enemies. I don't need to know what you're up to, but I'm going to guess it is parsecs outside of his comfort zone. But, he's still here."

"Yeah." Fynta chuckled, then ruffled Noara's dark bangs like she used to. It was hard to see her as the adult that she'd become, rather than the adolescence Fynta had grown to care for. She widened her smile and made a hand gesture of honesty. "I'll be nice, promise." Rolling her eyes, Noara left to do her master's bidding while Fynta followed after Aric.

The walk to Aric's room seemed to be too long and too short at the same time. Fynta stood outside the door with her knuckles poised to knock but unable to make the connection. She had no idea what to say to mend the sort of hurt that she'd felt in Aric before he shut her out. Even now, Fynta could sense the Cathar's restlessness, but it paled in comparison to what they normally shared. He'd walled off his emotions so that Fynta only caught glimpses of what leaked around the seals.

Fynta shored up her defenses and rapped her knuckles against the door. No answer came. Sighing, she extended her senses to confirm that Aric was in the room, then knocked again. Fynta considered breaking the locking mechanism, but given his mood, she decided against it. "You know this door won't keep me out," Fynta called.

The threat worked as expected. Aric's door slid open, but he stood across the room with his arms folded and familiar scowl fixed in place. He'd donned his armor, everything but the trademark cloak. A strange heaviness rose in Fynta's chest at the sight of his chest plate and greaves. "What do you want," he growled, finding a spot above her head to stare at.

To apologize. At least, that's what Fynta meant to say, what came out was completely different. "To see if you're still sulking."

Aric snorted and looked out the window, maintaining a firm glare at the snowcapped scenery beyond. Nora's hideout was nestled into the side of a mountain, according to the schematic that Fynta had found when they arrived. She hadn't ventured into that frozen hellscape. Clouds covered the moon, throwing the room into shadow that left Ari's eyes glaring in the glass. Fynta opted for casual contempt and propped one butt cheek on Aric's bed. "You realize why I couldn't let you kill her, right? That's even if you got close enough to try. You've vastly underestimated that woman's power."

One side of Aric's mouth lifted in a lopsided sneer that revealed the tips of his canines. Fynta thought the expression was adorable, but managed to keep that thought to herself. When Aric didn't respond, she reached for him through the Force.

"Don't," Aric growled, taking a step away from Fynta as if that could weaken their connection. She felt a surge of panic, quickly tamped down, but present all the same. Aric's glare turned to his feet, and Fynta realized for the first time that he hadn't looked at her since she'd walked in. "Just—stay out of my head."

Fynta stood and took a step closer, noting the repeated spike in fear. It wasn't surprise or anxiety, but the raw terror of trapped prey, an emotion she'd become well acquainted with in her line of work. Fynta had never thought to inspire such feelings in the stoic Cathar, though. "What's wrong?"

When Fynta moved again, Aric snarled in earnest. The sound brought her up short. She'd heard him growl in many circumstances, most involving her, but none had ever felt threatening. Aric moved into a loose-limbed defensive stance. "You almost had me," he said, tone low and edged with malice. "You almost convinced me that there was more to the Empire than what the Order thought. But it was a lie. You're just like all the rest."

"I'm—" Fynta sputtered, red coloring her vision and rage boiling through her veins until lightning crackled between her fingers. She bared her teeth and jabbed one of the sparking digits at Aric, holding onto her control by bloodied nails. "You have no idea what you're talking about you self-righteous, pompous di'kutla utreekov."

Fynta had the short-lived satisfaction of seeing the Jedi's brows climb his forehead before she spun around and stormed from the room. She slammed the door hard enough that sparks sprung from the safety mechanisms. It might have jumped off its tracks, but she didn't care enough to look back.

Alderaan Private Residence of Darth Nemesis

Aric stared at the mangled wreckage of his door. Not only had Fynta's outburst short circuited the electrical system, but it had ripped part of the track out of the frame. Without the right tools, Aric wouldn't enjoy the false security of a locked door again.

Sighing, Aric nudged the leaning slab of metal and watched it groan outward. An almost hidden spark of light distracted him. When Aric looked up, the young woman from earlier stood in the hallway with a tray while her pale blue gaze focused on the carnage that had once been his door. "I take it the talk didn't go well?"

Aric snorted a laugh before he could stop himself, then sobered with the reminder that this woman was also a Sith. There was a familiar gentleness in her, though. "Who are you?"

"Oh, right." The woman wiped a hand on silk pants so green that they almost looked black, then extended it to Aric. "My name is Noara Starspark. I'm Nora's apprentice."

Cautiously, Aric accepted the greeting. When their hands touched, he felt the warmth of Tython in the back of his mind. It reminded him of a stream he liked to visit as a boy. A place covered by trees, where the breeze brought with it the crispness from higher in the mountains. "You're not Sith," Aric decided before his higher brain caught up with his instincts.

"Not really, no," Noara answered, then lifted the tray. "A gift from my master, may I?"

"Nothing stopping you." Aric kicked the door for effect.

Only after the shock wore off did Aric realize that Nora must be Darth Nemesis's given name. He kept the younger woman in sight while she went to one of the many tables around the room. Aric folded his arms. "Your master won't be mad that you call her Nora in front of me?"

The young woman waved a dismissive hand. "There are millions of Noras in the Empire, and her birth records are sealed. Good luck weeding her out." Noara set the tray on a dark wood table and removed the lid to show the half drank whiskey from his doomed game with Fynta and two glasses. "You seemed fond of this one."

Aric eyed the gift, wondering what sort of poison had been slipped into it. As if reading his thoughts, Noara smiled. "It's not tampered with. All I did was put the stopper in. When I was cleaning up, my master suggested bringing it to you. I'd hoped that Fynta would be here, but…" She trailed off and left the drink and glasses alone. "If there is anything else you need, please let us know. You are Nora's guest, and thus under her protection. We will leave first thing in the morning to avoid any further stress."

"You said not really," Aric ventured, picking up in the middle of his thoughts. When Noara's head tipped to the side, he reworded his question. "When I said you weren't Sith. What does that mean?"

A small, sad smile pulled at Noara's lips. "I was a Padawan. Nox killed my master and took me for his apprentice." Aric nodded, watching the branches of Darth Nox's control grow before his eyes. Fynta hadn't been exaggerating when she spoke of her former master's reach. "Fynta found me in one of his cells. I don't remember much about how we got out, only that my rescue is what sparked her resignation from Nox's service."

Aric unfolded his arms. There was a lot that Noara left out, but the idea that she and Fynta were so closely connected intrigued him. "How old were you?"

"Thirteen," Noara answered, then shrugged. "I think. I lost a lot of my earlier memories during Nox's intake process. It's why I wasn't returned to the Jedi; I couldn't remember where I was from until months later. By then, Nora had already accepted the position as my new master. They offered me the choice to return, but I preferred it here."

"In the Empire," Aric grumbled, reevaluating the ease with which he accepted Noara in his space.

Noara let out a delicate laugh. "No. I don't care about Empire versus Republic. I chose to stay with Nora because in the few months I lived with her, I learned more about the Force and my connection to it than in years on Tython. She encouraged me to explore, and—" Noara stopped and laughed again when Aric snorted. "Not like that. She taught me to find my way to meditate, to discover where my strength flourished. She was patient and kind."

"That's not the Darth Nemesis from our files," Aric admitted. Fynta had warned him that nothing was as it appeared in the Empire, their Sith included. Ucevi had been cordial and welcoming. Aric had to assume from her relationship with Fynta that the woman was higher ranking than she seemed. Could it be possible that Darth Nemesis was the same?

A kind smile made Noara look younger still. "It's all a disguise. Nora has a real chance to make things better for the Empire, but no one will back her if she appears weak. So, we leak stories to the news to bolster the sort of reputation the Empire expects from their Dark Council members."

"That's barbaric," Aric replied with a curled lip. The thought that someone would use murder and torture to bolster their societal standing made no sense. Then again, he'd never understood the way a Sith's mind worked, even now that he'd spend time with so many.

Shaking her head, Noara poured two glasses of whiskey and lifted hers in cheers. "That's politics." She took a sip, smacked her lips, then continued while examining the glass. "The senators in the Republic are no different, only the reverse. They pretend to be better than they really are. Nora, she just wants to get her foot in the door."

Aric downed his share of the whiskey, hating how much he enjoyed the burn. "What else can you tell me about these Sith?" He needed a better understanding of who to be vigilant around. Though Aric knew it was folly, he trusted the word of this once Padawan. Despite her upbringing in the Empire, he sensed no deceit in her.

Noara shrugged. "You need to trust Fynta as much as she trusts you." Aric lifted a brow, and the girl's smirk returned. "She cares about your opinion. And, whether you like it or not, she's adopted you. Welcome to the club."

With a final salute, Noara drained her glass and placed it upside down on the tray. "If Fynta says they are safe, then they are. Simple as that. Ucevi is a good woman. If you don't threaten her family or her network, you'll be fine. As for my master…" Noara trailed off. "Well, she regrets upsetting you. Fynta mentioned that you hunt Sith and Nora is on your list. For the sake of the Empire, forget about tonight and Darth Nemesis. We need her alive more than you can imagine."

Noara stepped away from the table, bowed the way a Padawan would to her master, then headed for the door. She paused to run a hand over the damaged wall, "I'll send a repair droid."

Then, the woman was gone, leaving Aric with more questions than he'd had before. He'd grown up with two simple truths: the Empire was the enemy, and Sith were evil. The picture Noara painted blurred those lines. And, every Sith that Aric had interacted with so far had been cordial despite knowing who and what he was.

Aric poured another glass of whiskey and swallowed it in a single gulp, letting the burn in his throat signify the fires of this new trial. He had made a promise to Fynta, one that he would keep on his honor as a Jedi. The galaxy would be a better place without Nox. After that, Aric couldn't promise anything.

Alderaan Darth Nemesis Safe House Two Days Later

Aric only left his quarters late at night, when he was certain that he'd be left alone. He walked the silent halls, stopping to admire the snow outside. Fat white flakes drifted lazily onto statues of people he didn't recognize, lending them a ghostly quality.

Closing his eyes, Aric reached out and felt for Fynta. Her chaos was quiet, lulled into the almost peace of sleep. Darth Nemesis and Noara had left the morning following their disastrous introduction, as promised, with the latter stopping by to bid Aric farewell and wish him luck. In return, he had promised to consider the girl's request. Aric had been alone ever since.

Ucevi was scheduled to arrive in the early morning hours the next day. The closer the moment came, the more Aric regretted reaching out to her. When he had agreed to let the Sith Blood shield his mind, Fynta was still speaking to him. As it stood, he'd only caught glimpses of the woman as she drifted through the estate. Aric could find her if he wanted, but he wasn't ready for that conversation. Fynta had invaded his thoughts in a moment of vulnerability, and she'd wrested his control away. He couldn't forgive that so easily.

An alarm chirped, and Aric looked towards the east to catch the drive plume of a small ship. The panel next to him illuminated with a warning of an incoming vessel, then clicked to green when it recognized the access code. Aric's pulse leapt into a staccato when he realized that Ucevi was early.

In the back of Aric's mind, Fynta stirred. He hadn't realized that he was still connected to her, and quickly withdrew before she could accuse him of spying while she slept. He started for the hangar, then thought better of it and went to his room. Though wearing his armor wouldn't protect Aric from a mental attack should Ucevi decide to avenge Fynta's wounded pride, it made him feel better.

Aric had expected the women to go to bed. He knew that Fynta and Ucevi shared a past relationship, though could only speculate on its nature. Fynta hadn't fully admitted to it being romantic, but Aric had his suspicions. So, when someone knocked on his door less than an hour after Ucevi's arrival, Aric jumped.

The void behind Aric's door must have been Ucevi, because Fynta showed up as a mirror, rather than a lack of being, when she hid from him. Squaring his shoulders, Aric answered the door and found himself looking up into the golden eyes of a smiling Sith Lord. "Good evening, Master Jorgan. May I enter?"

Aric stepped back, surprised again by how large the woman was. His mind had made her smaller, stamping the standard female frame onto someone who was anything but. Still, Ucevi moved with a sinuous grace that made the black fabric of her flight armor shimmer in the light. Shaking himself, Aric poked his head into the hallway and found it empty. His chest squeezed, but Aric told himself it was for the best.

"How are you healing?" Ucevi asked, stopping to pour a glass of the whiskey that Noara had brought two nights before. She inhaled the fragrant alcohol with a satisfied sigh, then smiled at Aric. "You look better than when we last spoke."

"Autodoc says everything is good." Aric stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands flexing without anything to do. Eventually, he folded them into his robes. "My DNA is altered, but no signs of transformation. So far, I haven't noticed any significant changes."

Ucevi sipped her whiskey, then nodded. "That's good." She lifted the glass in Aric's direction. "And, we might be able to use that to our advantage. If Nox got a read on you while on Rishi, the rakghoul venom could have fundamentally altered you enough to hide you from his sight. In theory, at least."

"So, you're a specialist on rakghouls now?" The casual conversation eased some Aric's tension, enough that he could move further into the room, at least.

Ucevi shrugged one bare shoulder. Her flight suit left impressive biceps exposed, a trend that Aric had noticed that the Sith Blood employed often. He couldn't decide if it was an intimidation tactic, or because she was proud of her physique. He supposed both were possible. "I read over the thesis of a colleague. The man is a little too interested in rakghouls if you ask me, but his research is fascinating."

Aric spared one more look over his shoulder, expecting Fynta to walk in complaining about lost sleep, but not surprised when she didn't. Sighing, he turned back to the red woman. "As entertaining as this topic is, we should probably—"

"Of course." Ucevi drained her glass, then gestured at one of the plush chairs decorating Aric's room. "If you'll make yourself comfortable. This may take some time since your essence is unfamiliar to me."

Aric did as instructed, perching on the edge of the cushion. "What can I expect?"

Ucevi leaned one hip against the desk and folded her arms. "I'll start slow. It will be uncomfortable at first. I'll need to compartmentalize the various sections, if that helps. I'll see some of your memories, though I promise not to linger. You'll feel my presence, but there shouldn't be pain unless you fight me. If there is anywhere that I should avoid, it's best to tell me now. I will not be gathering intel, so any classified information should remain so."

The brow stalks above Ucevi's eyes pulled together. "This is an unprecedented event. If I encounter resistance, I'll move on unless you want me to push through, but those areas will remain vulnerable. Shielding isn't a blanket process, but a precise, almost surgical practice. It takes trust and time, both of which we are desperately short on. So, I'll ask one more time, are you sure about this?"

Aric wanted to say no. He wanted to walk out of the room, board Fynta's ship, and return to the Republic. Nothing had terrified him so much since his childhood fear of the dark. Now, Aric was inviting the darkness into his soul. Letting out a shaky breath, Aric met the woman's burning gaze. "This is the only way to keep those bastards out of my head, isn't it?"

"Not the only way," Ucevi admitted with a tilt of her head. "But, certainly the most expedient."

"Then, let's get on with it." Aric leaned back in the chair and folded his hands in his lap. "All of it." After all, he didn't sit on the council, and he didn't carry any of the Order's secrets. Aric had never been good at it.

After a few failed meditative breaths, Aric gave up and glared at the fireplace. It was impossible to relax while preparing to let a Sith in. He anticipated pain, because no matter how much he tried, Aric knew he would resist.

A wave of chaos rose in Aric's mind, and he jolted forward to see Fynta stalk into the room. Before he could think better of it, Aric was on his feet. "You came."

"I said I would, didn't I?" Fynta snapped, though the relief of Aric's greeting was palpable. It wasn't until that moment that he realized Fynta hadn't been avoiding him because she was angry, but because she thought he was.

Walking around the chair, Fynta put her hands on Aric's shoulders and pushed him back onto the cushions. When he was seated, she remained behind him. Her next words were directed at Ucevi. "Where do you want me?"

The Sith Blood looked between them, a single brow stalk raised. "There is fine." Aric wondered if Ucevi could sense the conflicting emotions rising within him, or his relief that Fynta had come. If so, she didn't comment on it. "So long as Master Jorgan is comfortable. I may need your help calming him until we've been properly introduced."

"That part sucks," Fynta muttered, squeezing Aric's shoulders. She added a playful wink. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

You need to trust Fynta as much as she trusts you. Noara's words echoed in Aric's ears, and he nodded. Trust was not something that came easily to a Jedi. They were raised to see into people's hearts, and few of those were pure. Then, he'd met Fynta. While she would lie to someone's face to get what she wanted, her intentions were laid out for all who cared to look. Every act of evil was backed by the desire to do good. She was the enigma that he'd been taught to fear. And yet, Aric continuously placed his life in her hands.

Dipping his chin to Ucevi, Aric inhaled until his lungs burned, then let the air out in staggered breaths so that his pulse would slow. Ucevi set the desk chair in front of Aric and lowered herself into it. Her hand hovered above Aric's knee. "I'm going to touch you now. It solidifies our connection and keeps me grounded while I'm in your thoughts. Do I have your permission to begin?" Aric nodded, his focus torn by the warm hands on his shoulders and now his right leg. Ucevi hunched into a more comfortable position. "Now, I need you to enter a meditative state."

Aric glanced behind him to where Fynta stood. "How does she manage this with you?"

"Practice," Ucevi chuckled. "I take it you tried to teach her too?"

"She's a lost cause," Aric answered, letting the banter ease him into a calm mindset that would make meditation easier.

Fynta's hands tightened almost to the point of pain. "You're both assholes."

Ucevi's chuckle seemed to vibrate the air around them, and Aric realized that he'd already slipped into the first stage of meditation. It was like falling asleep, half in and out of consciousness. Sounds were louder, while the rest of the room muted to grey, then black as he went deeper.

Aric lingered in that calm place until he lost track of time, then a flash of green trees and babbling brooks shimmered into view. He stood with his master, overseeing the construction of the Twi'lek village that had barely survived another Flesh Raider attack. Aric wanted to track the culprits down, but his master denied his request. Anger filled him, quickly overshadowed by helplessness as a small boy dug through the burned rubble of his.

The oily sensation of the Dark Side brushed Aric's consciousness, and he was transported to a battlefield. Red filled his vision, and Aric threw his blade up in time to avoid being hewn in two. The Rattataki Sith bared pearly teeth in a snarl. His eyes were as red as the weapon he wielded, his teeth stained with blood. Aric pushed the man back, then Ucevi was there. In the chaos of the moment, all he saw was another Sith. He was outnumbered and desperate. Aric reached for the Force and found it denied to him.

Panic seized Aric. He'd felt this before, remembered the stab of electricity behind his eyes. The memory was barely a fragment of the pain Aric felt, and he cried out. "Focus, big guy." The words fluttered through his mind like leaves on an autumn breeze. Aric breathed the hot agony away, pouring all of his concentration into the target shaped tattoo that hovered before him. It inspired feelings of safety, and Aric clung to it.

"Fynta, back off, you're too close." A disembodied voice ground out. "Damn it, Aric you have to let go."

Aric's vision spiraled, specters overlapping so quickly that he couldn't make sense of them. The sting of a whip against his back. A child huddled in the corner of a tiny cell. The wrinkled skin of a Flesh Raider. A boulder looming in the distance. The shame in dark blue eyes as they looked away. Burning muscles, and the thin air of a mountain peak. Blood pouring through his fingers.

"Almost there," the voice rasped. There were familiar cadences in that strained sound that made Aric feel guilty, but he didn't know why.

"I'm still here," Fynta whispered. Her warmth enveloped Aric, acting as a buffer between him and the onslaught of anguish and rage. "Trust me."

With those final words, Aric surrendered to the gentle pressure of Fynta's touch, and the images faded. He blinked, revealing the solace of an eternal void, his hands entwined with hers.

Alderaan Darth Nemesis Safe House

Aric inhaled as he came out of the trance, then slouched deeper into his chair. Fynta let go of the Jedi's shoulders and went to her old friend. Ucevi sagged against the desk, a sheen of sweat coating her face, neck, and chest. Fynta pushed back the dark strands of hair that had come loose from the Sith's pristine bun and steadied her. "Are you okay?"

When Ucevi's gaze met Fynta's, it burned with something just short of anger. "Do you realize what you've done?"

"You'd have killed each other." Fynta forced a smile and pretended that her stomach wasn't trying to empty itself. "Stubborn as an akk hound with a new bone, the both of you."

Ucevi wouldn't have stopped until she'd shielded Aric, and he would have shredded both of their minds trying to escape. It was in their natures, a nurturer and a warrior. Still, Ucevi shook her head. "I can't undo this."

"You couldn't have stopped it," Fynta countered, sitting back on her heels to give Uveci room to straighten. The woman's deep crimson skin had paled, and her hair hung limp with sweat.

Shaking her head, the Sith Blood pushed into a backward arch to stretch her muscles. "I could have barred your entrance, or—"

"It wouldn't have changed anything," Fynta interrupted, but she placed her hand on the woman's knee to soften the sharpness of her tone. "Something happened on Rishi. A connection developed. All I did was replace a rope bridge with a permanent structure."

Ucevi leaned forward again, taking Fynta's chin in strong fingers so that she had no choice but to look into the Sith Blood's eyes. "A rope bridge can be burned. What you've done can't be broken. Even after death, his soul might cling to yours."

Jerking her chin free, Fynta shoved to her feet and stalked a few steps in each direction. Her gaze settled on Aric, who'd slumped into an uncomfortable looking position. "It's done." She ignored the rapid beating of her heart as she did anything that terrified her. Eventually, Fynta would need to face this issue, but it didn't have to be right now.

The soft expletive that Ucevi released made Fynta wince. She kept her back to the woman so that Ucevi wouldn't see the fear Fynta struggled to hide, but she knew it was futile when the Sith Blood sighed. "Help me get him onto the bed. He needs rest."

So do you, Fynta almost argued, but she joined Ucevi in pulling Aric from the chair and dragged his heavy ass to the plush mattress. Ucevi pulled the blankets back with a wave of her hand, then they deposited their Cathar burden more or less in the center of his bed. Ucevi studied him for a moment, then shook her head. "It seems rude to leave him in that uncomfortable armor, but I doubt he'd appreciate it if we removed it."

Fynta snorted a laugh and tugged the blankets over Aric. He was there, chasing fitful dreams in the back of Fynta's mind. If they weren't careful, these episodes of shared pasts could become a dangerous distraction.

When Fynta looked up, Ucevi was still staring down at the sleeping Jedi. "You'll need to be more careful about how you treat him."

"What do you mean?" Fynta didn't think that a Force bond affected someone's strength, but she didn't know much on the subject.

"No more casual flirting." Ucevi glanced up, and the reprimand was clear in the set of her jaw. "Any feelings from before will be amplified, and given a Cathar's nature, you could trick him into believing that you're his lifemate."

Fynta took an involuntary step away from the bed, which coaxed a rueful chuckle from her old friend. "Exactly. So, either submit to a lifetime of monogamy, or destroy all possibility of him becoming too attached to you. Those are your options."

"Fierfek." Fynta hugged her arms around her torso and glared at the prone Cathar. She hadn't considered that, nor the fact that she'd have to deny her nature to keep them from both making terrible choices. There was regret too, buried so deep that Fynta almost didn't recognize it. She liked Aric, and the thought of pushing him away when they'd come so far hurt in a way that Fynta couldn't describe.

"Fine," Fynta spat, then circled the bed and took Ucevi's arm. The Sith Blood didn't complain when Fynta pulled it over her shoulders, or when she angled them out of the room. For now, she'd take care of the Sith at her side. Later, Fynta would worry about the Jedi in her head.

#whiskey & tihaar #fynta wolfe #aric jorgan #sith fynta au #jedi jorgan #sith fynta/jedi jorgan au #tish oc: ucevi #ume oc: Noara starspark #a turning point #for better or for worse #swtor

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cinlat · 2 years

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Whumptober: Day 9

A look into the development of Sith Fynta and Secret Jedi Ahuska’s rocky relationship. As requested by @dingoat (I’ve never written Ahuska pov before, but it was the only one that made sense. I hope I did her justice.) Better late than never, right?

9: The Very Noisy Night Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

Word Count: 482

Ahuska yawned and rubbed one eye. Her datapad chirped another warning that the door to the stable had been breached. It was probably a chunk of ice lodged in a seal again, a common occurrence this time of year.

The closer Ahuska climbed to the surface, the colder the temperature became. Finally, she heard the sound of the storm raging outside. Being one of the individuals less bothered by the cold, Ahuska wasn’t surprised to be the only one treading through these halls.

One more yawn and a few blinks brought Ahuska around the final turn to the stables. She expected to find nothing amiss. She’d also expected to find it locked. It was none of those things, and the bloody hand print next to the caved-in durasteel mechanism made her wish that she’d thought about a weapon.

Easing the door open, Ahuska groped inside for the rake she’d left after mucking the stalls. The wood felt reassuring in her hand, though the state of the door meant that it probably wouldn’t do her much good against this particular intruder.

Ahuska moved with the quiet steps that came with years of working around skittish animals. Her ears pricked any sound that didn't belong. A tauntaun near the central heater snorted, and a female voice answered. “Don’t see what you’re complaining about. You’ve got all the fur.”

Any fear that Ahuska felt was quickly replaced by irritation. She knew that voice, and nothing good ever accompanied it. Sighing, Ahusha set the rake down and stopped at the stall where one of her larger females was pressed into the corner. She stepped onto the built-in bench to look over the gate.

“What exactly are you doing?” Ahuska’s eyes adjusted quickly, revealing her own personal Sith nuisance huddled by the gate under the tauntaun’s blanket.

Fynta didn’t bother looking up. “Dying.” The woman curled deeper into the rough material, then hissed and pressed a hand to her side. “Your animals are loud as shit, by the way.”

“Yeah, well, you’re in her territory and she’s pregnant. You’d be grumpy too. Why are you—” A dark stain drew Ahuska’s attention, and she scowled. “You’re bleeding on my fresh straw.”

“My bad.” Fynta’s words slurred a moment before she tipped and her head thumped against the wall.

Ahuska growled, then sighed, then rolled her eyes for good measure. She should clean and treat Fynta’s wounds. Technically, she should get the woman to the medcenter. But, given her current location, Ahuska couldn’t help but wonder if that might invite more trouble. Of course, it would; it’s Fynta.

Shoving the gate open, Ahuska apologized to its normal occupant before dragging the intruder out. She’d need to clean up the blood, but first, she had to tend to the Sith. As Ahuska laid her burden out on the floor next to the heater, she resigned herself to a long night.

Again.

#whumptober2022 #whumptober #sith fynta #secret jedi ahuska #sith fynta au #i do love their dynamic here #not friends #not REALLY enemies #and ahuska is generally just too nice to turn fynta away #in return fynta MIGHT have taken care of one or two individuals who got curious about ahuska #not that she'd tell the bothan #ahuska probably wouldn't approve of murder...

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cinlat · 2 years

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Whumptober: Day 4

4: Dead on your feet Hidden injury | Waking up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

This is taking another dip into @dingoat and @askshivanulegacy werewolf au. Where Fynta gets to be a bad guy. (Thanks guys!)

Word Count: 489

Fynta was cold. Not just physically, but to her core. Darkness surrounded her, pierced by vivid snatches of conversation and color. Teeth the size of a vibro blade, the sound of tearing flesh and panicked shouts, brilliant blue eyes, and so much red.

“She’s spiking again.”

Fynta writhed in the confines of her weightless prison. The pain had reached a crescendo so long ago that all she felt was the memory of it. Her bones had broken and been put back together, her senses made stronger. The air smelled and tasted sour when Fynta remembered to breathe.

“Test the new inhibitor chip.”

That voice, low and gruff, authoritative. It sparked new memories; new pain. Fynta stood over a closed coffin, her fingers bloody and a still beating heart in her hand. She considered squeezing. “I can offer you the chance for vengeance.”

Fynta scoffed, knowing without seeing the older woman at her side. She tucked the heart away, out of sight so that no one else would see it. Maybe if she left it there long enough, even she would forget. “You didn’t see what I saw.” There had been six of her then, now she was diminished.

“You know that I can do it.” The older woman touched Fynta's shoulder, and she jerked away. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“You’ll make me into one of them, a monster like those things you sent us after?” They had been unprepared, convinced that it was just another Sith or horror of science and technology. Had she known, he—no, she wouldn’t speak his name; not yet. Besides, he didn’t believe in the Manda, so where had his soul gone.

The voice faded to a whisper that echoed through Fynta’s thoughts. “Sometimes, we must become the monster in order to defeat it.”

“Inhibitor chip active…pulse dropping. General—I think it’s working. We should—”

“She owns you now,” a familiar voice, gruff with exasperated amusement said. It belonged to the heart, speaking from that hidden place where Fynta had left it. “She’ll turn you into her.”

Fynta shrugged. Just long enough to avenge you. The heart sighed, then fell quiet. Fynta wanted to call it back, but the voice clutched at her chest and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe. Better to let it rest.

“Bring her out.”

“It’s too soon. There are tests—yes, General.”

Fynta’s grey world brightened to blue bubbles and blurred images. She shied from the light, pressing against the cool, hard surface to put space between her and the unpleasant stimuli. Only after it had dimmed did Fynta blink through the medicated haze of her tank. The woman on the other side was familiar. Wrinkled cheeks pulled into a wide smile, sharp eyes crinkling at their corners. “Welcome back, Captain Wolfe. Are you ready to work?”

Pale fur and yellow eyes flashed in front of Fynta’s mind. Her blood boiled, heating the water until the glass cracked. “Good,” General Garza smiled. “Very good.”

#whumptober2022 #day 4: waking up disoriented #fynta wolfe #werewolf au #general garza #fynta as a bad guy

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cinlat · 3 years

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Whumptober 2021: Day 19

No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH bitten | bleeding | stabbing

Characters: Sith Fynta & Ahuska ( @dingoat) Fandom: swtor Affiliated Fic: Whiskey and Tihaar & Top Shelf

Word Count: 804 Rating: T Guest: Ahuska *art by Dingoat

Fynta didn’t like stables. She didn’t like animals, or the crunch of hay beneath her boots, or the potential surprises that hay hid. She hated the smell of animal feces and musk. So did the Sith she had traveled with.

Picking her spot, Fynta planted one foot and brought the clunky lightsaber up in an arc. The blade’s output had been reduced enough to cause only mild burns without the potential for severing limbs, and scorched the wooden support beam it rebounded off of. Fynta hissed out a curse and staggered into one of the stall doors. It swung open, dropping her onto her ass and sending a shock of pain through her torso so intense that it stole her breath.

Boots thumped across the grated floor to reveal the silhouetted image of a Bothan against the lights. “What the shabbing hell are you doing in here?” Pale eyes darted to the lightsaber still burning in Fynta’s hand, the smoldering of the hay it touched, then Ahuska’s lips pulled back to show an impressive array of teeth.

“Easy,” Fynta gasped, holding up her hands and deactivating the weapon. Movement of any sort sent a wave of agony through her side, but she swallowed it and clambered onto unsteady feet. “It was on low, see?” Fynta pointed to the darkened wood, but that only added to the rage in the Bothan’s eyes.

Ahuska looked into the stall that Fynta had struck, then snorted. “You’re lucky that one was empty. Now out. You are not welcome here.” The shove that accompanied the command hadn’t been gentle, but not strong enough to elicit the curse that exploded through Fynta’s clenched teeth.

Ahuska’s ears flicked forward, then she sniffed the air. “You're hurt.”

Fynta huffed a pained laugh at the accusation in Ahuska’s voice, then pressed one hand to her side. Though neither were particularly friendly, their paths had crossed enough over the years to develop a peculiar relationship built on secrets, lies, and grudging trust. “Blasters aren’t very good at deflecting lightsaber strikes.” She’d managed to hide the blistered skin from her fellow assassin, but Fynta couldn’t take the chance of it happening again.

“Neither are you, apparently,” Ahuska retorted. Outwardly, the Bothan still wore the same look of contempt that Fynta had become accustomed to. On the inside, she was light and warmth. Fynta hated how much that drew her in.

Sighing, Ahuska held her hand out for Fynta’s lightsaber. Seeing no reason to deny the woman her request, she handed it over. The worst she could do was add another burn to Fynta’s ego. Ahuska flicked the blade on, lifting one brow at the pale blade. “This isn’t yours.” Again, accusation laced each word, this time, Fynta had earned it.

Shaking her head, Fynta forced a grin. “I...lost mine shortly after joining the academy. That one’s on loan.” Though, its previous owner wouldn’t be coming for it again. Fynta had started with a red blade, like all Sith at the academy, but had promptly spaced. At the time, Fynta had hated everything it stood for. She hadn’t seen the practicality of such a weapon until it was almost too late.

Ahuska chose not to ask about how Fynta had acquired the weapon. Checking over her shoulder, both of the Bothan's ears swiveled towards the entry. Fynta reached out, sensing for life beyond their quiet sanctuary. Seemingly satisfied, Ahuska activated the blade and performed a complex array of steps that left Fynta envious.

When she was done, Ahuska nodded. “It’s a good weapon.” She deactivated the beam and offered it back to Fynta. “The problem lies in the operator.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.” Fynta hooked the hilt on her built, hating its unfamiliar weight immediately. “They aren’t really my style.”

“Clearly.” An awkward silence settled between them, then Ahuska growled. “If I teach you how to use that, will you go away?”

Fynta’s brows lifted before she could shield her reaction. “You’d teach me to wield a lightsaber?” Ahuska’s ears flattened and she looked away, arms folded against her chest. She hated Fynta for knowing what she was, the only sour note in the rhythm that had drawn Fynta to her years back. For her part, Fynta harbored incomprehensible jealousy of the once Jedi who’d been adopted into a clan, while Fynta’s had thrown her to the Sith.

Heaving a breath that made her wince, Fynta nodded. “Deal. Teach me how to use that damn light sword, and I’ll stay out of your stables.”

“Fine.” Ahuska unfolded her arms, looked like she might offer to shake on the agreement, then changed her mind. Her gaze slid to the side that Fynta still cradled, then rolled with exasperation. “Come on, I’ve got a first aid kit over here. Meh gar kyrayc, shuk bah ni.”

#whumptober2021 #no. 19 #prompt: stabbing #fandom: swtor #medium: fanfiction #sith fynta au #dingoat's oc: Ahuska #frenemies #almost mutual respect even #almost #things are happening #ahuska played a huge part in how fynta learned to use a lightsaber #or her variation of one at least #backstory for whiskey & tihaar

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dingoat · 2 years

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Just ONE word?!? *sighs* okay fine. How about CONFIDE?

[A little late for your birthday, but I've dropped into your Whiskey and Tihaar universe for it, because Ahuska and Fynta's dynamic there is so much fun to play with and any confessions in that particular world are so much more loaded than in the regular universe where honestly I think Ahuska just trusts Fynta implicitly! Apologies for any janky paragraphs, I am way too tired to proof properly, but hopefully it runs together well enough and most importantly I hope I did okay with Fynta! ~1,500 words, please enjoy! <3]

---

There were a lot of things Ahuska hated about being stationed at the Imperial base, and the line for the canteen was one of them. She was a Mandalorian, which immediately put her below the troops and field agents who were actual Imperial citizens, and she didn’t even have the distinction of being a brutal front line warrior to encourage the average trooper to afford her a little respect. No, she worked the stables, she tended the mounts, and though her work was crucial to the squads setting out on this planet’s unforgiving terrain it earned very little favour for herself, personally.

And then, of course, was the small matter of her being alien.

Time and time again, it gave arrogant Imperials more than enough reason to simply not see her, cut in front, pretend their time was somehow more valuable than hers. She’d learned long ago that biting back was simply not worth the effort; there were poor few individuals here who’d have her back, and she wouldn’t put them out over so petty a thing as having to wait a little longer on her dinner. Or a lot longer.

Her stomach growled and with it her frustration grew, but she kept her head low and her eyes to the front, forcing a courteous nod when an officer actually had the good grace to apologise for stepping in front of her, and explain what a hurry he was in. Not enough of a hurry to slide in front of the Sith acolyte three steps ahead of them both, mind.

And then a shadow fell over her. “Surely you could find yourself another post, if you hate it so much here?”

Ahuska forced her gaze to remain forward, though her ears flattened at the voice over her shoulder. Like hell she was going to give a candid answer with die hard Imperials quite literally surrounding her. She bit her tongue, curbed her instinct to pry toward Fynta through the Force to try and judge her intent, and satisfied herself with simply glowering at the back of the officer’s head. Keeping a low profile suited Ahuska just fine, and having too much of anything to do with the Sith woman could only ever jeopardise that.

And yet, she couldn’t help but notice that she moved down the line a whole lot faster with Fynta hovering behind her.

It was a bitter flavour of gratitude that prompted Ahuska to hang back a step and wait, once she finally had her serve, falling into stride alongside Fynta once she likewise had a full tray. “Do I really make it that obvious?”

The woman grinned so broadly it bunched up the tattoo across her cheek. “Some Sith might make a three course meal out of the bad vibes you’re putting out there. Why, if you were a Jedi you’d be putting the Order to shame.”

Ahuska knew Fynta was trying to get a rise out of her, but that knowledge didn’t stop it from working. “Good thing I’m no sort of Jedi then, huh,” she snapped, letting her steps steer them both toward a quiet booth over by the furthest wall of the mess hall, in much the same way she’d direct the movements of a kath hound that was getting ahead of itself. In truth, Ahuska made a point of letting her feelings bleed through when in heavy Imperial company, using them to disguise the teachings of her past and turn aside any Sith casually seeking out hints of Sensitivity amongst the crowds, and as much as they got her hackles up Fynta’s jabs actually helped keep up the pretence.

She couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, if she did it on purpose.

“It still begs the question of why you bother sticking around,” Fynta pressed, not bothering to wait for an invitation before helping herself to the seat opposite where Ahuska settled. “I can’t make any sense of you. I mean, if you were in the business of rescuing poor lost souls like I’d first wondered, surely you’d have made a move on me by now?”

Ahuska gritted her teeth and dwelled so long on her response that for a time, it seemed as though she was in fact done speaking for the night.

Fynta physically felt the moment Ahuska’s resolve shifted, and was watching her expectantly before she opened her mouth to speak.

“Is there anyone from… before, who you’d do anything to see again? Someone you miss with all your heart…” she trailed off, witnessing Fynta’s expression.

Now it was the Sith who was decidedly sullen, and Ahuska glanced aside, not wanting Fynta to feel as though her moment of bitterness had an audience.

“I’m sorry,” Ahuska murmured, very softly, with no intention of prying. “For whatever happened. But I do. I did. I…” she toyed with her food for a moment, wondering whether it was worth continuing. If it was safe to do so. It was an uneasy alliance that she seemed to share with Fynta, and she knew that the once-Mandalorian was far better placed to make her life a misery than the other way around. She couldn’t even be sure why Fynta hadn’t done so already, except that she made herself mildly useful, that she preferred to keep out of trouble, and…

Ahuska carefully turned her eyes back toward the blonde woman, and wondered again if the jealousy Fynta so often flashed her way wasn’t also coloured with a dab of hope. Perhaps Fynta let her be, because she was a symbol of the hope that someone could find a comfortable life amongst the clans, despite how the Force might have tried to twist their life otherwise.

She bit her lip, then sighed as she went on. “I watched Imperial troops drag my dearest friend away, once upon a time. I thought they killed him. He was as good as dead, as far as…” As far as the Force was concerned. “...as far as I knew.” A tired, bitter smile tweaked at one side of her snout. “I saw a lot of people die, but losing him was one of the worst. I went about my new life, sure, but I never forgot him. Now imagine… imagine how it would have felt, to see him again, fifteen years later.” Fynta lifted a brow. “You don’t look as happy as a reunion like that should have made you.”

“Mmm. Imagine how I would’ve felt, having him look back at me like I was a stranger.”

Fynta hesitated. A chill had settled about the bothan that made her uneasy. “So you grew up. That’s not–”

“He doesn’t remember me, Fynta. He doesn’t remember… anything. Sure he’s sweet with me, now, gives me more time than half the mando’ade I know. I guess I could make myself content with just knowing that he’s okay, that he survived, but…”

“You miss him.”

“I can be sitting with him, talking to him, and still miss him so fierce I want to scream. They did something to him, Fynta. He loves the people who took him, and talks to me like we only met a year ago. I don’t know what to do, except to stick around as close as I can, and maybe… maybe if they ever try to do something worse, at least I’ll be around to try and stop it.” She stared at her plate, but the thought of putting food in her stomach the way it was churning at that moment made her feel faint. She pushed it away. “I don’t know.”

It was plain that Fynta hadn’t expected her ribbing to have received quite so somber a response. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hold the bothan’s trust on the matter, but nor did she take lightly the fact that it had been freely given.

“Who..?”

Ahuska quickly halted the obvious question with a wave of her hand. “Probably best you don’t know. Bad enough you have me to be holding your tongue about, hm? I’ll… mmmh, I’ll let you know if I ever want an extra set of eyes on him, but right now I’ve got this. It’s not anybody else’s problem to deal with. But that’s why I put up with all these trooper shabuire walking all over me.” She snorted. “After seeing him smile at me all polite and distracted and ask what my name was, nothing much else hurts at all.”

“You put up with them, but you still hate them.”

“Of course,” Ahuska managed a tired smirk that showed a bit of fang. “But pain and hate are different things, you should know that. And both of them keep me safer out here than being a well of inner peace. I’m sure you know that too.”

Fynta huffed, and offered her own smirk back in return. It was easier than smiling. Safer than actually showing any sort of heart.

“What I know is that you aughtta be eating.” She pushed the plate back toward Ahuska. “Stables aren’t going to clean themselves. I don’t think you can afford to let yourself get all wobbly at the knees on us.”

“Is that an Imperial order, my lord?”

Fynta grinned at the heavy sarcasm in Ahuska’s tone, and was fairly sure she wouldn’t ever take any enjoyment from hearing the bothan say such a thing in sincerity. “If it has to be. There’s people counting on you, after all.”

#one word prompts #one word drabbles #I'm really not remotely doing drabbles for these #oh well #ahaha #whiskey and tihaar #or maybe this is #lime and bitters #hahahaha #or is it wolf and wolfe?#anyway #dingoat writes #sith fynta au #swtor fic

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dingoat · 3 years

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[So, @cinlat has been dabbling in a Sith au for her Fynta, with cameo slots available for various other characters to come hang out. And just the little bit of contemplation we had about where Ahuska might slot into this particular version of events, I wound up inspired enough to dabble with a scene! So welcome to an Ahuska who still wound up adopted into Mandalorian life, but has not forgotten/repressed her early years. Rather than their usual easy friendship, she and Fynta wind up butting heads more often than not and bumping into one another more than either would like. Apologies if I’ve gotten Fynta totally wrong, I will put up a disclaimer that I’m throwing this out here without any sort of proofing from Cinlat so she gets the final call as to the authenticity of this scene! I’ve also borrowed @askshivanulegacy’s Blakk for the ride, I think I needed a little cathartic fluff to counterbalance all the fluff-gone-wrong happening elsewhere hahahaha.]

‘Not on My Watch’

“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take a speeder…”

Ahuska lifted a hand to cut him off, raising a finger and shaking her head with a smile. It was no secret that the young bothan was soft for this particular Imperial Agent, even if her clanmates were quick to remind her that no self respecting human Kaas citizen would pursue anything more than a functional work relationship with her, a rudderless, stable-working alien.

She chose not to listen to what her clanmates had to say.

“Because a speeder won’t pull back when it feels the ice getting too thin or warn you when you cross a wampa’s path, that’s why.”

Cipher Blakk rolled his eyes and pulled the zipper of his insulated parka higher, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his face properly protected from the frankly absurd level of chill. “It’s not as though I plan to park on an ice sheet…”

“Uh huh, and you’ll know exactly what’s under the two inch layer of snow that’s just fallen…”

He huffed, and she laughed, opening the stall door against which she was leaning to lead out the young tauntaun buck she already had saddled and haltered. “Quit fretting. Thunder here is a solid ride and a soft touch, he won’t give you any problems, and I’d trust him over any autopilot to get you safely back to base if something goes wrong.” Blakk felt some unexpected warmth rise in his cheeks, and while he wondered for the thousandth time why she cared so much that he got back safely, the buck lowered his head to snuffle through Ahuska’s hair. She raised a hand to give the tauntaun a firm rub on the cheek and horn. “Yeah, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’ll be good for the Empire’s elite, won’t you? Won’t you my good soft woolly buddy…”

Ahuska’s ears flicked at the same moment as Thunder’s twitched, and a heartbeat later Blakk’s head turned as well, hearing the heavy rasp of an iron gate lifting.

Ahuska had been stationed on the remote Hoth outpost for the last month and a half, more than enough time to get to know the sound of every latch and door in the stables, and the animals that spent their lives here knew them even better. Her sky blue eyes turned to ice as she squinted, staring down into the lower level. “Who… oh.”

Her lips turned to a tight, flat line as she recognised the figure down below, and the coolness in her expression was enough to prompt Blakk to lift a brow. “Ahh, is something the matter…?”

“We’ll see. What is she… oh, oh no, no no no…”

The Cipher suddenly found himself with a set of reins thrust into his hands, with Ahuska taking the liberty of closing his fingers around them and squeezing tight. “What… what are you…?”

“Hold him. Hold him tight and don’t let go for a second, distract him with this if you can…” She shoved a pinkish rock of some sort toward him, and with his hands full he was forced to stoop and hold it under his chin, expression nothing short of bewildered.

“I don’t… oh, gods no,” Blakk had the profound discomfort of realising then that it was a block of salt, as Thunder pressed forward with an eager little warble and began to lick at it. He made a tiny sound of dismay. “Ahuska…!”

But she was already gone, not even sticking around to have a snigger at his predicament, darting down the stairwell rather than waiting on one of the stocklifts. “Oi! Oi, di’kut, what’n Kad’s name do you think you’re doing---!!”

The object of Ahuska’s anger turned, unnaturally blue eyes flashing with irritation, and then immediately turned back to the stall door she’d been about to open.

“Don’t you dare touch that! Who the hell authorized you to be down here and what the shab d’you think you’re doing opening straight up into the yards?” Rather than heading straight toward the Sith, Ahuska veered to the far wall where a harsh wind blustered through the now gaping entry to the outdoor paddocks, and slammed her fist against a set of controls.

“This animal is… Shen-Four-Seven, isn’t it?” Fynta Wolfe, Assassin for Sith Intelligence and Infiltration, glared at the Bothan stablekeep who stood firm in the gateway, as though she could somehow block her passage while the heavy gate groaned back shut. She cut a strong silhouette against the glaring white world outside, framed with reflected light and fluttering snowflakes.

“Star, yeah, that’s her.” Ahuska’s tone was curt. She didn’t enjoy dealing with Fynta any more than she explicitly had to. Never mind that the Sith knew far more about her than Ahuska was comfortable with, but the fact that Fynta thought she could just slip on some beskar and mingle amongst the clans as though she weren’t an out-and-out Sith grated at her terribly. The nerves struck were just… a little too close to home.

“Then she’s the one I’ve been assigned while I’m on duty here. And since I’m not here to take riding lessons, I don’t see why I need to answer to you of all people, stablekeep.”

Ahuska bristled as the steel gate locked shut behind her, putting an abrupt halt to the chill wind. “Maybe ‘cause every last one of these animals has been assigned to me while I’m on duty here, and I don’t give a damn if you’re the Emperor himself, you don’t take one outside without my say-so. Not a taun, not a vulp, not a gods-damned arctic womp-weasel! So you can take your fingers off that latch and let me do my job, or you can deal with the shab’la stampede you’re about to let loose. It’s stable master, by the way.”

Fynta knew Ahuska wasn’t the type to lie for the sake of a power trip. The bothan’s conviction and ferocity at this moment was enough to give her pause and slowly arch a brow, though her tone was flat and unconvinced. “Stampede. You mean the whole three out in the main yard.”

“Mmm.” Ahuska’s tone was equally flat, but there was something smug about the way she lifted her chin and stared down the bridge of her muzzle toward the Sith. “Those three first, if Thunder up on the balcony doesn’t fling himself over to beat them to it.” She gestured upward and over her shoulder with a thumb, toward where Blakk diligently kept a firm but wary hold of the tauntaun buck Ahuska had left in his care. The agent swiftly averted his gaze when he realised attention had momentarily turned his way. “Then the seven in the exercise yards ‘cause let’s face it, those fences aren’t gonna stop a buck in rut, and maybe the dozen in the outer…”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse what?”

“A buck in rut?”

“I said what I said. I know it doesn’t look much like the seasons change here on Hoth, but believe me, there are seasons, and we’re in the thick of one right now. Your little Star there…” Ahuska dipped her head toward the stall door that Fynta remained precariously close to opening, though to her credit her fingers were looser on the handle than they had been moments before. “Is a very, very appealing little lady at the moment. She gets lead out through the back to be worked in the yards on the south ridge or not at all, and when she’s being groomed and treated in here this gate…” She slapped the metal surface behind her with the back of her hand. “Stays shut! I wouldn’t even recommend her for a mission today or tomorrow unless you were absolutely certain of no wild herds en route and let’s face it, you can never be certain of that…”

Fynta hadn’t exactly paled, but she was definitely looking less confident about taking her assigned mount out onto the slopes. She found herself feeling unwittingly grateful that the blasted bothan had been here to intercept her, and then an equal measure of furious at herself for feeling grateful at all. “Alright, alright, fierfek, just get me a more suitable animal ready as soon as you can, I’ve wasted enough time here already…”

“Of course, my Lord,” Ahuska’s grin was far too toothy, her flourished salute and bow far too exaggerated to be genuine. She enjoyed watching Fynta bite back her seething a little too much. “And let me know what shebs-for-brains gave you Star to begin with so I can have some words.”

“I’ll try to find out,” Fynta lied. No way in hell was she going to let Ahuska know that, in a bid to get herself in and out of Hoth as swiftly as possible, she might have forged a signature or two on a requisition document here and there, and arbitrarily assigned the tauntaun to herself. She straightened, stepping away from the stall, and stared Ahuska squarely in the eye. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She didn’t give Ahuska the opportunity to respond, making her way smartly off down a corridor. The bothan might come across as meek as a runt nerf calf most of the time, but Force be damned if she didn’t find a spine and a half where her animals were concerned. Fynta couldn’t decide whether she was impressed or irritated, and just found herself hoping that Ahuska would be able to find the same amount of backbone if anyone ever pressed her about matters that remained better left unspoken.

She really didn’t want to see another decent Mandalorian having their arm twisted into Imperial service.

Ahuska, meanwhile, had every intention of keeping Fynta waiting; she had another Agent of the Empire to finish dealing with first, and she wasn’t going to rush seeing Blakk and Thunder off soundly for the sake of a single agitated Sith. Her hackles were already smooth and the set of her ears fully relaxed by the time she made it back to the upper level, though the way Blakk’s wide-eyed gaze settled on her when she flashed him a grin threatened to dishevel her all over again.

“Didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

“No, you were great- I mean he, he was great. Thunder was… great. Perfect. No trouble.”

Ahuska might have plenty of backbone when it mattered, but that didn’t stop certain moments making her utterly weak. She coughed into her hand, glancing aside as she took back the reins and returned the remains of the salt lick to her pocket. “Ahh, uh, right, good. Good! Where have you got your gear then? Better get him all loaded up for you.”

---

[And now a bonus for everyone who got this far, hahaha, have some zipped up Hoth geared little Imperials. Ahuska thinks they’re both ridiculous for complaining so much about the cold.]

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cinlat · 3 years

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Blood in the Breeze: Ch 8 (Conspiracy Theories)

Parts one and two of this series linked.

Read every chapter on FFN or Ao3.

Summary: Jorgan faces the next of life's many hurdles, Kozen finds himself on the strangest planet he's even seen, Elara makes a decision, and Zolah juggles the alliance and one irritating commander

Chapter Word Count: 5,811 Chapter Rating: T Characters in Chapter: Fynta Wolfe, Aric Jorgan, Zolah Holran, Vector Hyllus, Kaeto Vaa, Darth Kozen, Torian Cadera Elara Dorne, Shillet Jorgan, Alexei Dorne

Author’s Note: Entire chapter under the cut for those who don’t want to follow the link. Also, Noara Starspark belongs to the lovely @kunoichi-ume

Odessen Alliance Base Commander's Quarters Four Days Later

Jorgan forced himself look in the mirror, grimacing at the unfamiliar scrape of fabric across his brow. It took time to fit a soldier for an enhanced eye patch, leaving him with only the rough material to protect the damaged nerves from outside stimuli. Jorgan exhaled and told himself to be grateful that it hadn't been worse. There was still a chance of recovery, though slim. Medical science could do miraculous things; it had given Fynta a completely new leg. But, the technology on Odessen had been reduced to scraps; even with the brilliant minds behind them, Jorgan's partial blindness persisted.

"The pirate look suits you," observed a voice behind Aric. The Cathar shifted his gaze to find Fynta's reflection leaning against the wall with a grin. "Very sexy." His lip pulled back far enough to show teeth, but that had never fazed her. With a sigh, he pushed away from the mirror and turned to greet his wife.

"Been there, done that." Jorgan tried to focus on humor rather than the crushing fear about what came next. His latest scans hadn't been encouraging. Too many hits taken over a lifetime of service to a government that Aric no longer had faith in left him feeling wrung out. Maybe it was just his time; so many others had fallen while he'd persisted, the good soldier, the survivor.

Fynta pushed off the wall, closing the space between them and snaking her arms around Jorgan's body. They were tight, secure in a way that nothing else felt. "How about a shower?" Her nose wrinkled when she rubbed her face in the fur of his bare chest. "You smell like kolto." Jorgan grunted, waiting until Fynta disappeared into the fresher to pull the eye patch free. A milky film covered his right eye, a part of Dr. Oggurobb's experimental treatment. Had Yuun not backed the Hutt, Jorgan would have told the worm where to shove it before submitting to a Hutt, but the Gand had been insistent.

Lifting one hand, Aric shut his good eye and waved in front of his face. Only vague shadows registered from the damaged nerves. Familiar panic clenched around his heart. What if this was all he ever saw? He could learn to shoot left handed, but it would take more time than he had left to become even passable at it, much less an expert marksman. Fynta would still go out there, fighting a war on multiple fronts without him. Jorgan couldn't stand the thought of being left behind again, of losing her when he could have prevented it. Even Fynta could only resurrect so many times.

Fynta swung out of the fresher, using the door jam as anchor. "You coming, soldier?" Her body was uncovered and begging for Jorgan's attention. He smiled, finding joy in the image, even if it didn't translate to sexual desire. His gaze slid over Fynta's curves, settling on the hint of silver peeking around the corner. She'd once been where he is, unsure of the future, the subject of uncertain technology, and self conscious. It had taken nearly a month before Fynta would let Jorgan touch her false leg outside of maintenance. He would move past this, in time.

The swells of peace and overlapping waves of panic were exhausting. Jorgan let Fynta pull him into the fresher, uncomplaining as she undressed him. Fynta's touch remained playful instead of seductive, with little pats here and fingers sinking deep into the fur there.

"How about a massage?" Fynta asked when she stepped into the shower. It was too small for them both, but Jorgan remembered ways that they'd overcome that handicap. A smile tugged at his lips as he followed. There would be no impressive feats of balance this time, Jorgan could barely keep his own feet as it was, but he'd learn.

As Fynta worked soapy fingers over Jorgan's body, he released a sigh that eased the irritation he'd felt moments ago. Stress sloughed away, puddling at his feet with the suds while Fynta searched for every tense knot in his back. A low pur escaped before he could stop it, and Jorgan cleared his throat while turning to face his wife. "My turn."

Fynta grinned, somehow managing to look past Jorgan's damaged eye and conceal whatever emotions it triggered. "I heard that." Turning to present her back, Fynta wiggled her hips playfully against his groin.

"You heard nothing, woman." Jorgan bent forward to nip Fynta's shoulder while he brushed her hair aside. It was nearly to her shoulder blades now, half the length it had been before her encounter with Arcann, and covered the lightsaber scar on her back completely.

Fynta groaned when Jorgan found a particularly tight spot. Her eyes were closed, forehead resting against the rough, cave wall that still lined most of the base's interior. Moments like this were all that kept Aric going some days. The simple, domestic bliss that made him feel like more than a number in a report. "We need a vacation," he decided. Fynta snorted a laugh, then coughed up the water she'd sucked in with it. He smirked. "I'm serious, just you, me, and—"

Jorgan's hands fell from Fynta's shoulders, hanging heavy at his sides. Shillet, his daughter. He was going to lose her, and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. With all of the confusion of the last few days, that had somehow slipped to the back of his mind. Aric's pulse quickened, room spinning until he had to brace one hand against the wall to keep from tipping. The comforting caress of steam had become a suffocating curtain.

Fynta's hands were on Jorgan's face. With a stubborn pull, she forced him to meet her eyes. "Tell me what you need, Aric. I'll make it happen."

Staring into those hard, blue eyes, Jorgan grounded himself in the belief that Fynta could accomplish anything that she set her mind to. The woman never gave up, even when there was nothing left to fight for. It was in her blood. Aric's voice broke. "I want my daughter back."

Fynta nodded, popping onto her toes to place a light kiss on Aric's lips. "Okay." She finished rinsing the soap from her hair and reached for the nozzle. "Down time is over."

Jorgan watched the last of the water circle the drain, his worries pushing through the steam and scattering what little comfort their shower had afforded. "Where are you going?" Fynta wrapped a towel around herself, then tossed one to him. He knew the set of her shoulders and that firm twist of her mouth. She'd be pulling boots on in less then ten minutes and heading for the door. Jorgan just wasn't sure in which direction.

Fynta paused while drying her hair, a sad smile pulling at her lips. "We've got work to do."

Planet Unknown Abandoned City

Kozen ignored the small probe that nudged at his hip again. The thing seemed intelligent in a rudimentary sense, stubborn in its directive of which Kozen still hadn't ascertained. He stood, stone still in the middle of a ruined courtyard, and focused his mind outward. Kaeto's presence called to him, like a siren song that lured sailors to their deaths in tales of old. He hadn't been apart from her in years, and now that absence was a physical pain. Kozen's chest tightened with each flair of battle adrenaline that trickled through their bond. She was near, engaged in combat, but still out of reach.

The probe chirped until Kozen turned a searing glare on it. He'd worked around droids long enough to know that they harbored a certain amount of self awareness, enough to act in their best interests. An active lightsaber was enough to stand his guide down. Once an agreement had been established, Kozen closed his eyes and reached through the Force once more. He felt...nothing. Not like in the empty lamentation of his youth when he stretched too far into the Dark Side of the Force, this was the absence of life after Vitiate had destroyed Ziost. Whatever had existed on this strange planet had vanished long enough in the past that there was not even an echo of the beings who'd once inhabited it.

There. Golden light pierced through the nothingness, twisting with violent intent. It grew in his mind, snaking through the empty streets and finally coalescing into what could only be Kaeto. Kozen's eyes snapped open, and he ran headless of what lay around the vine covered corner.

Within minutes, the sound of blaster fire, punctuated by the clank of Kaeto's swords, reached Kozen. He barely took a second to gauge the gap, then leapt without breaking stride. Shock waves traveled up Kozen's legs when he landed on the balcony across the street, forcing him to slow so that they didn't give out on him. Figures darted in and out of view to the east, lit by flashes of color. Kozen pushed the discomfort of his aching legs down and broke into a run once more.

Years of similar abuse to his body were beginning to catch up to Kozen. No Sith ever truly believed that they would live to the age where time posed more of a threat than the enemy. Kozen had led a hard life, using himself as a battering ram against the Empire's many foes. Though she never spoke of it, he knew that Kaeto suffered similar ailments. All warriors fell to decay eventually.

As Kozen drew near, he realized that there were staff sabers interspersed with the blaster fire. Knights in full Zakuulan armor stood back to back with officers from their fleet. One, particularly burly female had partnered with Kaeto. Kozen spotted a war droid circling around to flank the pair and propelled himself into a leap that brought him down on top of its dome. His weight alone would have been enough to topple the machine, but the red blade jutting from the central node ensured its demise.

The droid quivered, seized, then fell to the side. Kozen rolled away from the wreckage and came to his feet next to Kaeto. The Knight spun to engage before marking him as an ally. Her staff lowered, then sailed through the air to skewer the battle droid that had cornered a group of fleet officers. With that final stroke, the battle was over.

"We appreciate your aid." The large, female Knight's voice rasped through her damaged helmet while she walked to collect her weapon. Kaeto's eyes met Kozen's briefly, brushing his mind, while they searched one another for injury.

"Join us," Kaeto offered, her thick accent sending a shiver down Kozen's spine as it always had. Her lilting challenge had stayed his blade when they first met. That hint of other worldliness that captivated a mind that had been segregated his entire life. Kaeto had been the first Togruta that Kozen had met, and he'd been loath to admit over the years how much he enjoyed seeing the variety their galaxy held.

The Knight shook her head. "We have picked up transmissions from other vessels in distress. It is my duty to protect them." A note of hesitation entered her voice as the helmet shifted between Kaeto and Kozen. "There is news that Mistress Vaylin has been found. She's called us all to arms."

A snarl built in the back of Kozen's throat, his fingers itching to draw his blade and end the woman's chance to regroup with their enemies. Kaeto spoke, ignoring the tumult that she no doubt felt boiling within him. "Thank you for the warning. Go in peace, and may we never meet on the battlefield."

"And you," the Knight replied, then turned to her people and motioned towards their designated path.

Kozen watched the group pick their way through the droid debris, clipping his lightsaber to his belt. "It's a mistake to let them live."

"Perhaps." Kaeto retracted her sword blades and shoved them into the harness that crossed her back. In the next instant, her arms were around Kozen, startling a grunt from him. "Words can not express how pleased I am to see you." Slowly, Kozen returned his lover's embrace. He let Kaeto's warmth douse the flames of his rage, making way for the relief that she too was well.

The sound of scraping metal jerked Kozen's attention to the lone figure who hadn't followed the group. "Chakaar," Torian spat, offering another kick for good measure. Kozen hadn't felt the Mandalorian's presence. But then, he'd been too focused on finding Kaeto. One day, he would run straight through an ambush in a frantic search for her if he didn't control his emotions better.

Kaeto pulled away to greet her travel companion. "We should get moving too. More of these droids won't be far."

"Must be getting close to some kind of factory," Torian agreed. His holo chirped, revealing a flustered Theron Shan when the Mandalorian managed to pry it off his belt and answer. Torian offered a lopsided grin. "Never thought I'd be glad to see a Republic spy before."

"Yeah, well, never thought I'd be searching for a Sith, Jedi, and Mandalorian because I cared about their wellbeing, but here we are." Shan paused, then snorted a humorless laugh. "Remind me to turn that into a joke if we live."

Kozen allowed himself a heavy sigh. "Focus, Agent Shan." Despite their denial, Kozen saw little difference between the spy and the Alliance commander. Both were irreverent, disrespectful, and lacked professional timing.

"Right." Theron tapped on his datapad, pausing once to wiggle one of the wires that ran between his implants and the device. "You three are the last to be accounted for. We've found some kind of...I don't know, temple, maybe? Anyway, it's secure for the moment. I'm transmitting coordinates."

Torian's comm chirped, overlaying Theron's image with a plotted map section. The signal flickered, and Theron cursed. "I'm losing you. Just, get here ASAP. Theron out."

"Guess that means everyone else is okay," Torian added to the silence that followed Theron's departure. With rifle cradled in his arms, the Mandalorian chief checked their coordinates and motioned to the direction he deemed suitable. "Shouldn't be far."

Coruscant Residential Sector Apartment 7865

"Don't be preposterous." Elara moved the kettle from the heat and readied hers and Alexei's cups. "I couldn't possibly, and you'd do well to stop badgering me about it."

Alexei growled, not a sound he'd have dared ten years ago, and ran calloused fingers through his hair. The blonde strands had darkened in recent years, whereas Elara's had maintained the lighter coloring of their family. She wondered if it had to do with the stress of his job or something else.

"Stop that," Elara chastised, hiding any amusement behind her teacup. She firmed her tone so that her baby brother didn't think he could charm her into agreement. "You sound more like Balkar every day."

"That's my point." Alexei gestured at the apartment around them with the wave of one hand. He was in the sort of mood where the only acceptable solution to any problem was his. Elara sighed and stirred her tea with the spoon that she'd left in her cup while he beat the proverbial dead bantha. "I've got people, connected ones, with my best interests in mind. Wouldn't you like to have that kind of security too?"

Elara fixed her gaze on the amber liquid swirling beneath her fingers. She'd had that, once, until a single act of bravery had ripped it all away. Nothing had been the same since Fynta's disappearance, and each year only grew more difficult. She was tired of this conversation with Alexei, tired of defending her choices to a little brother who'd made his own share of questionable decisions.

Lifting the tea to her lips, Elara answered with a low, patient tone. "Those connections would grow perilously thin should the children and I suddenly vanish." She sipped, hoping her words would sink into his thick skull this time.

Alexei lowered himself on his elbows to put himself within Elara's line of sight, chin propped in his hands. She got a glimpse of the little boy who'd talked her into all kinds of mischief when they were younger. It warmed her heart, despite his infuriating persistence. "We've thought of that."

Elara's will faltered, eyes burning with the tears she'd stopped shedding months ago. Alexei gentled his voice and took one of her hands. "Listen, Balkar won't leave me hanging. I've got a plan, all I need is one solar day's notice. You and the kids could be free, Elara. Just think of it."

It was a tempting offer. A chance to leave this musty apartment that had never felt like home no matter how many trifles she filled it with. Hope leaked through a crack in her resolve for one, dangerous breath. "Alexei—" The door opened to reveal a more pressing obligation, one that couldn't be put off any longer. They pulled apart, though not before Elara gave her brother's hand a squeeze. "We'll talk more about this later."

Swiping quickly over her cheeks, Elara painted on a smile. "Hello, lovelies, did you have a good day?"

"Does it matter?" Shillet snapped as she helped Tayl out of his jacket.

Elara cast Alexei a pleading glance. He scowled a final time, then forced a jovial tone as he swiveled towards the children. "Who wants to help me dismantle a computer console?"

Tayl's face brightened as he scrambled away from Shillet to follow his uncle into the electronics room. Shillet stared after them, longing etched into her young features, then sighed and started for the opposite side of the apartment. "Let's get this over with." It was packing day, a day that they'd all ignored for so long that now there was no way to avoid it.

Elara accompanied Shillet to her room. It felt like it took longer than it should have, her broken heart dragging at her feet. When Elara crossed the threshold, it was to find Shillet sitting on her bed next to the laundry that Elara had folded earlier. With a breath for courage, Elara crossed to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer.

"What about this one?" Elara lifted the pink shirt with the lead singer from Shillet's favorite band on it. "Does it still fit?"

The Nautolan shrugged one shoulder while she folded a pair of pants. She'd matured a lot in the last year, taking on the womanly curves that marked her passage out of adolescence. They stood in her room, quietly cleaning out the drawers. Elara wanted to comfort the girl somehow, but there was simply nothing that could remove the sting of betrayal. Not by those who had raised her, but the Republic who had brought them together.

Setting the shirt aside, Elara went back to the dresser to choose her next task. Shillet was almost packed, with only the bare bottoms of plastic drawers to mark this injustice. She blinked away more tears before they could fall. Elara had tried everything to find a way out, even going so far as to plot an escape attempt with Balic, but none of their plans survived the initial stage.

A soft, blue sweater was squished into the corner, trapped between the joints of Shillet's dresser. Elara tugged it free without snagging the fabric and smiled. "I remember this one." She turned to show it to Shillet. Jorgan had purchased it as a surprise after the girl had begged all day. He'd given her a firm no, then changed his mind when she took it well. The joy that lit her face when he arrived unannounced a week later, bearing the gift, would live in Elara's memory forever.

Holding the sweater out, Elara offered it to Shillet. To her surprise, the Nautolan turned away and busied herself with lotions and soaps. A knot formed in Elara's throat at the rejection until she realized that Shillet hadn't packed any articles that held sentimental value. She was retreating, leaving all evidence of love behind so that she wouldn't be reminded of what she'd lost.

Elara's comm chirped in the other room, and Tayl appeared a moment later with it in hand. She'd just folded the sweater and set it on Shillet's bed when she realized that particular device shouldn't have been within his reach. "I'll take that, son."

Tayl handed it up, standing on his toes to peek at the frequency. He was due for a haircut, but Elara hated to deprive him of the only physical trait he'd inherited from his father. Ruffling those dark locks, Elara stepped out to answer in the privacy of her room.

Once the door was secure, Elara found herself face to face with Fynta's miniature form. Her stomach churned, though Elara wasn't sure if it was with joy at seeing Fynta, or dread at what news she might carry. "My old friend."

"Hey." Fynta was in a pair of black running shorts and some sort of shirt with reflective tape across her shoulders and stomach. She didn't give Elara a chance to ask what that was about. "I don't have long. I'm sure your apartment is bugged but we've got to act soon."

Elara's pulse quickened. "What's wrong?"

"A little bird told me that you're in need of a vacation." Fynta looked over her shoulder and waved someone off. Elara wondered if it was Aric, if he'd ever speak to her again. The thought of losing a treasured friendship made it difficult to breathe, but she pushed it aside to focus on the meaning between Fynta's words.

Fynta continued as if there hadn't been an interruption. "Tell Malcom that you want one more fond memory with the kids, choose somewhere in the Core Worlds, something suitably family friendly."

"They'll be watching," Elara warned, only just parsing out what Fynta intended. She made a mental note to have stern words with Alexei later. Though she wasn't sure how, he was most definitely involved. "If the commander allows it, there will no doubt be an armed guard assigned to watch for foul play."

Fynta nodded. "Of course, I wouldn't expect anything else."

Elara waited for more while someone shoved a datapad into Fynta's hands. She signed it, then pointed at another person that Elara couldn't see and made shooing motions. "Sorry, we're in the middle of a...thing here. Anyway, you won't know when we'll strike. Go to this place, have a great time with the kids. When the moment is right, Shillet will simply vanish and you'll have a couple of government paid alibis."

"What if they lock down the park before you get away?" Elara asked, options and plans forming in her mind. Shillet had begged for nearly a year to visit Adventure World, and it fit all of Fynta's parameters.

Fynta shook her head. "Don't worry about us. When Shillet disappears, search for her. Get your guards involved, hell, ask local security to shut everything down. They won't find us."

Elara hesitated. "You're sure?" Before Fynta could answer, Elara added. "This isn't a mission for Havoc Squad or the specialists you have there. It's a little girl, and everything depends on you being right."

Leaning forward, Fynta pinned Elara with those deep blue eyes that had reassured her for years. "We won't mess this up. You have my word. Now hold on, someone else wants to say something."

Elara expected to see Balic, heart lifting with the possibility of seeing her husband. It was a surprise when Aric entered the frame. A thick band of leather wrapped around his head, creasing the fur and giving him a sinister look. Balic had told Elara about the infection and his treatment. Despite the tension between them, it was good to see the Cathar upright.

Aric took the comm from his wife, retreating to somewhere less crowded judging by the drop in noise. Jorgan's throat moved, jaw working the way it did when he was trying to control his temper. Finally, the Cathar blew out a breath. "I'm not happy with how things worked out, but I understand why you did it." Elara nodded, unable to think of anything to say that would make things more comfortable. Aric sighed. "We'll fix this. For everyone."

"Thank you," Elara managed through a tight throat. Jorgan nodded, and she knew their time was up. "Give Balic my love, and take care of yourself, Major."

"You too." The image winked out, leaving Elara with the sick sensation that she'd never see those surly features again. Once Shillet was free, there would be no need to risk contact. Especially if she could manage to get Tayl to them as well. The boy would be safe with his father, and she'd make Balic see the wisdom in cutting ties with her...somehow.

Tucking the comm beneath her pillow, Elara walked back into Shillet's room to find her and Tayl snickering under their breaths to one another. The stack of shirts still sat on Shillet's bed, and Elara breathed out. Soon, the girl would be where she belonged, and Elara would sleep peacefully knowing her children were safe.

Crossing the room, Elara picked up the discarded clothes and tucked them back into the drawer. "I think we can leave these here a little longer."

Odessen War Room Emergency Council Meeting

CONNECTION FAILED

"Shit-fuck." The datapad skittered across the table, unbalancing piles of equally useless information before clattering to the floor. Zolah blew out a breath and curled worn fingers into her hair until the pain at her roots smothered the irritation building within.

Zolah Holran, who had once been prized for her ability to solve puzzles, was failing. There had been no situation that her rationale couldn't pierce through, and yet two weeks later, Theron was still missing, and she was no closer to picking up a trail. That algorithm had been her last idea, and it mocked her with repeating lines of catastrophic decline.

Warm hands rested on Zolah's shoulders, fingers tightening to show support. She righted herself, ignored the furtive glances from her techs, and stood. "I'm going to take a walk."

Vector relinquished his grip and offered a soothing smile. "We will maintain vigil." Zolah experienced a moment of weakness and almost asked Vector to join her. He would have, if only because that was the sort of man he was. In the end, Zolah turned without voicing her desires and left him to the search for their missing piece.

Cool air filled Zolah's lungs when she exited the information room. She often forgot how hot it got in there. After hours, the stifling atmosphere became just another meaningless irritation to be ignored while numbers flitted across her screen. A chill drifted along her arms, but Zolah refused to rub it away. She embraced the discomfort as proof that she was alive, and while she still drew breath, the hunt for their lost companions wouldn't end.

There had to be a way to marry a Force-users ability to connect over impossible distances with technology. Notiac and Solish assured Zolah daily that they still felt the life force of the rescue team. Kozen, Lana, and Kaeto were still alive, though nothing could be said for the others. Zolah refused to be daunted by that and pressed on with ever more inventive ways to track any kind of signal. Perhaps another visit to the resident Findsman was in order. Yuun had been working on the situation from his end as well. It had been a couple of days since Zolah had checked in with him.

As she walked, Zolah noticed the faces around her with an absent awareness. She trusted her implants to ping any suspicious behavior while the majority of her mind focused on building the next step. What had begun as a stairwell with numerous avenues of exploration had been whittled down to a rickety ladder that Zolah pieced together as she moved upward. She balanced on the shards of her failures and searched for new materials with which to begin again.

Zolah's proximity alarm sounded, and she jerked her shoulder away to avoid a young woman's distraction. Noara Starspark backed past, pausing mid-sentence when she realized how close Zolah stood. The Jedi pressed a hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Agent Holran."

With a wave, Zolah's gaze slid from the woman to the newly opened door she'd emerged from. There were others milling about in a conference room usually reserved for council business. Fynta's voice leaked from the doorway, setting Zolah's already frayed nerves on edge. Her implants performed a perfunctory scan of each face that filed from the room, connections forming at a speed unenhanced brains couldn't manage.

"I trust that I don't have to remind you of the consequences should this information leak," Fynta called after the retreating mass while Zolah pressed against the flow of the traffic. "I'll know if anyone talked." Hirani raised her middle finger with a laugh while Felix's girlfriend let out a wry chuckle. Zolah ignored them and stormed towards the commander.

As soon as the remnants faded out of the room, Zolah positioned herself directly in front of the woman. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"My job," Fynta answered as she stepped around Zolah to gather napkins and disposable cups from the conference table. Had the damn woman fed them snacks while divulging sensitive Alliance intelligence? "Keeping people who need to know in the loop."

"They didn't need to know," Zolah argued, hands balled so tightly into fists that her nails pricked into the skin of her palms. "What did you tell them?"

The smirk on Fynta's face almost overrode Zolah's ability to keep her hands to herself. Stopping to toss trash into the bin, Fynta dusted her hands on her pants. "That we're doing all that we can. Shab, Zolah, after two weeks, people at least need to know that we're aware that their soldiers haven't come home. Most of those women have been here longer than I have. I highly doubt any of them are a security risk."

Pressing her fingertips into her temples, Zolah blew out a long breath. If she let Fynta's brashness get the better of her, the woman won. Her only defense in this situation was cold logic. Finding the calm deep, deep within herself, Zolah began again. "Matters like this need to be cleared with the council, despite your hunches about who is reliable and who isn't." When she looked up, Fynta studied her with the narrowed eyes and head tilt that Zolah had become accustomed with. Despite her effort, Zolah bristled at the unwanted examination. "What?"

"You look like osik," Fynta observed without a hint of irony. It had been days since Zolah slept longer than a couple of hours. She survived mostly on caffeinated teas and stims.

"Not that I blame you," the commander continued. "If that were Aric, or any member of my family out there, I wouldn't stop until they were found." She didn't move to touch Zolah, but the slight shift of weight onto the forward foot revealed the habit. Fynta covered it by wiping crumbs from the table into her hand. "Still, you need to get out more. Take a day off with Vector and picnic in the mountains. Do something other than stare at screens, just for a few hours today."

Zolah accepted the suggestion without any real consideration. Of course she wouldn't take a day trip into the mountains, neither would Fynta if their situations were reversed. It was a pep talk fit for the average grunt, and Zolah was offended that Fynta would attempt it on her.

Shrugging, Fynta dumped her collection into the bin and started for the door. "Just a suggestion. If there's nothing else, I've got things to do. Let me know if anything changes."

It wasn't until after Fynta left that her words tickled a vague sense of deja vu. Fynta had cleared her calendar the day before, an issue that Vector had handled while Zolah worked on the useless algorithm that had vexed her all morning. The commander had claimed that it was to help Jorgan through his healing process, an orbital vacation, as Fynta called it.

Zolah's instincts gnawed at her. It wasn't uncommon for Fynta to sneak away, not since regaining her memories and realizing what losing five years of her life meant. Still, the timing felt off. Fynta was many things, a list of negatives too long for Zolah to number, but the woman wouldn't slink off at a time when so many close to her were unaccounted for.

Retrieving her personal datapad, Zolah pulled up launch requests from the night before. The Thunderclap had been given permission for a late evening orbit. Zolah reviewed the fuel allotment and navilogs, suspecting most of the latter was falsified. Fynta couldn't know that Zolah had begun requiring a crew chief signature fuel requests, though, and there was no way to fake those numbers. One brow lifted at the readout. "What are you up to?"

Perhaps, Zolah might take the commander's advice into consideration. On a whim, she opened a line of communication to the only other woman capable of running this alliance. The Miriluka appeared in Zolah's palm, still in the process of attaching her mask. Zolah pretended not to notice the smooth skin where eyes should be and greeted the Jedi with a cordial tone. "Master Carlo, I wonder if I might ask a favor of you."

#blood in the breeze #series: meet me on the battlefield #fynta wolfe #aric jorgan #things start happening #i've been waiting forever to use that shot of jorgan in his new eyepatch #full chapter post #better formatting on ao3 or ffn

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kunoichi-ume · 5 years

Note

7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in. 8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom? 17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite? 23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it. 41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading: 46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? 😁

ThisFanfiction Questions

Wow that is a lot of questions, nosy much? Jk thanks friend :D

7. List your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in.

I don’t know that I have proper NoTPs just ones I am not really fond of - especially in fanworks. Idk why but for some reason fanfiction about a canon couple is just boring to me, I already know they are together so why would I need more stories about it?

One Piece: Luffy and well... anyone. He is too in love with adventure to have a romance and lets be real, always feels like a little kid unless he is in one of his “gotta win or everyone is screwed” serious moments.

Fairy Tail: I do not like Ju.via and Gray, enough that I don’t even want to chance her name ending with this in her tag because many people in that fandom are toxic and last time I dared say I don’t like this ship I got bitched at for it. Sorry, I just don’t find stalking someone until they give in to be romantic.

Naruto: I do not get people liking Sasuke with pretty much anyone, but especially Sakura or Naruto. He is an ass to them repeatedly and they both deserve better - and being very honest, he deserved much stricter punishment for all the ship he pulled.

Star Wars: I am going to preface this with this: I haven’t seen Clone Wars. Not all of it. Probably won’t. But I don’t like the Obi-Wan and Satine relationship. Everything I have seen of it just doesn’t jive for me, even though both voice actors are adorably sweet and meeting them was a blast.

Swtor: I have not done all the romances yet, so this may change, but the SW and Jaesa is just... disappointing. Its mostly about her being possessive and manipulative and very little actual romance. The other SW relationships prove is doesn't have to be that way, so why is she? I get that they were probably going for the whole “fallen Jedi going balls to the wall crazy” but yeah, didn’t need to happen and I hated it so much I cut the romance planes I had for her and Tully even though I already planned to write it differently.

8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom?

I started playing Swtor and didn’t know about the romance options so when I could suddenly flirt with Doc I even stopped playing to turn to my husband and go “omg I can flirt with this guy?” He knew this of course and was just like “yeah...” (Honestly I had made a trial account for swtor when it first came out and if I had known about the romance options in the stories I probably would have staying with it instead of forgetting about the game). It was only a matter of time before I wanted to write a story about Noara and Doc, because I did totally ship them until a certain blond Mandalorian made his presence known.

17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite?

First otp... I think that would be Nami and Trafalgar Law from One Piece. I love them so much, even now despite not being active in the fandom and soooo behind on both the manga and the anime. They are not my current favorite though, that has to be Noara and Torian.

23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it.

Oh goodness a fic I am especially fond of? And why? Thats a tough one because I have little bits of love for all of them but I mean.... A Poor Stand In is probably one of my favorite things I have ever written for many reasons, the subject matter, approach and reactions mainly. Plus it just makes me laugh, I find it very funny on a lot of levels. Still waiting for someone to ask me wtf is wrong with me that I wrote this but since no one has maybe people are more into Khem then they like to admit? ;)

On a more serious note I am very fond of Well Played Cadera because I like the blend of Noara’s anxiety and fears, the arguing, the humor. Torian is a little shit in it and is so right to be, and it works too. He is figuring out how to get his Jedi to listen to him, even if it means taking off all his clothing.

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

I have been terrible about reading fanfiction lately but seeing as how my Goodreads challenge is sitting at 98/30 for the year I am going to cut myself some slack and just say I am on a sicfi romance novel kick that is taking precedence over fanworks. That being said there are some that of course I am following and even if I am a little behind on I totally intend to catch up.

Heart on a Trigger by @cinlat

Part 4 of the Meet Me On The Battlefield series about Mandalorian turned Republic Trooper Fynta Wolfe and Aric Jorgan, plus a large cast of other amazing characters (like Cormac, I love that big fluffy teddy bear). I am sure anyone paying attention to my blog is surpsied I am keeping up with this one, I get sneak peaks at updates before they come out (or are even edited properly) and my girl Noara is a small background character.

Something Better by @shimmersing

This was recently finished and omg, I need to go read it all but I just know it’s going to be good. I adore the way Shimmer writes Aitahe and Erithon and, honestly, it being a non-canon couple availabe in game makes it just that much more appealing to me (because no matter how this JC and Trooper end up together, it’s new to me and not just rehashing the game, makes it exciting!).

Abundance of Faith by Laivaaja

The Summary: Star Wars Fan Comic: Emperor Palpatine's suspicions of Darth Vader grow intolerable, which will cause the Empire and the Imperial Navy to be torn into two separate directions. Several officers will step up in this time of confusion, and Darth Vader will form new surprisingly faithful alliances.Yeah that’s it, great art, comic book story telling, Vader being surprised by his men. It’s a fun ride.

Chaos and Opportunity by @inquisitorhotpants

I haven’t read it in a while, but anything I have read as many times as I have this one needs to be on this list. I love the dynamic between Marr and Kryn and how their relationship develops and the way this story doesn’t accept canon (I was so concerned about Marr’s in game death and at least in this story about them that didn’t happen and I for one am thankful for it).

The One That Got Away by @punsbulletsandpointythings

Another SW but not Swtor one, this one has so much wonderful angst, fluff, humor and love in it and every update has left me dying to know what was going to happen next. Give me some time travel possibly doomed from the start romance any day.

46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why?

Humm... of works only written by me probably I’ve Got You even though I haven't updated in ages (I have been working on it the last few days though, that has to count for something) because it is what really got me back into writing after not doing it in a long time and the main story really exploring how a Jedi and a Mandalorian can work out in a relationship.

Of things I wrote with @cinlat Thunder and Scars for sure. The whole undertaking of this fic was both so much fun but also such a labor of love and heartache. There is one scene in it that even thinking about it now makes me tear up a little and I am not usually that emotional. Exploring those emotions through Noara and the family she found with Fynta, Cormac and Aric was a wonderful learning experience both for her as a character and me as a writer.

#Fanfiction meme #about me #and my writing #and my reading #and fics I am obsessed with #cinlat

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kunoichi-ume · 5 years

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May Drabbles, Day 5

Prompt: tied together (Illness) Characters: Republic Trooper Darvc Lewton, Jedi Knight Noara Starspark, and Smuggler Juliaddi Lewton (Basically Noara and two of the three siblings she never knew about) Word Count: 1683

“What about savrip pox? Did you ever get that growing up?”

Noara frowned at the question, “I’ve never even heard of that.”

“Really?” Juliaddi asked, “but everyone gets it when they start school back home.”

Leaning back into her seat, Noara tried not to let that one hurt. Tonight, was about getting to know her siblings, not dwelling on the painful side of finding them. All the little reminders that even if they were tied together by DNA, they were strangers. “I didn’t grow up on Ord Mantell, remember? Back on Naboo swamp fever was the one everyone got in the wet season.”

Darvic frowned into his drink. “Do I want to know what swamp fever is?”

“I don’t know,” Noara said, smiling mischievously the way Fynta had taught her. “Did you want to eat dinner tonight?”

“Not another word sis.”

Noara grimaced. It still felt so… unreal. The idea of having siblings, being referred to one felt like she was pretending to be someone else. Looking across the table she could see the slight resemblance between herself and Darvic. His eyes were the only ones she had ever seen another human have almost as light blue as her own and after Kadu had pointed out the similar shape of their noses she hadn’t been able to unsee it.

Juliaddi on the other hand didn’t look anything like Noara. She had a fuller, curvier figure and suntanned skin, deep blue eyes and blonde hair. If Elara and Kadu hadn’t confirmed that they shared a familial DNA match, she would never have believed they were connected. Finding her “long lost” family was nothing like it was in her stories, where it was a fairly common troupe. There was no instant connection, no unexplainable connection.

No sudden unconditional love.

“Please don’t call me that,” she said, dropping her eyes to the tabletop.

Darvic sighed heavily. “Fine Noara but you realize it doesn’t change anything,” he spat, making Noara sink further into her seat in. “You’re stuck with us, that is how family works.”

“Darvic!” Juliaddi grabbed his arm and shook it, glaring up at her older brother.

“No Juli, I am fed up with her trying to push me away anytime I bring up the fact she’s my sister, our sister,” he said, glancing at her before pinning Noara with a hard stare. “Running from the truth won’t change it.”

“You want the truth?” Noara, temper having finally snapped, said before standing and planting her hands on the table, “the truth is that you are a stranger, one who expects me to have some sort of connection to them but I don’t and you know why? Because your parents gave me away and moved on with their lives. Why should I want anything to do with any of you, I bet you never even thought about me during your happy perfect childhood.”

Darvic shot to his feet. “You think mom and dad just moved on? Fuck Noara, they still mourn giving you up and you are making it worse by refusing to let us tell them about you.”

“And I have to care about that why?”

He sputtered angrily a few times before managing to speak. “Because that is what family does. They are there for one another and try to spare the others as much pain as possible.”

Tears filled Noara’s eyes and she stepped back from the table, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “And where was this supposed family of mine when I was being tortured by the Sith? Hm Darvic? Where were you when I needed you?”

“Okay that is enough, both of you!” Juliaddi had so far allowed them to snip at one another, she knew her brother well enough to know that he had to get things off his chest before getting past it, but this was going too far for her comfort. “Shab I am the youngest here, why are you the two behaving like children?”

Standing, Juliaddi circled the table and carefully wrapped her arm around Noara’s shoulders. Motioning for Darvic to follow she led them from the table to the couches in the Defender’s common room. The rest of Noara’s crew had given them the ship to have some quality bonding time but so far that had been a bust, she only hoped she could salvage this somehow. Noara was trembling as Juliaddi helped her sit and immediately took up the space next to her. Darvic sat on the other side, shame coloring his cheeks.

Juliaddi and Darvic had a very limited view of what had happened to Noara to require the full time supervision of her personal squad of retired spec force troopers but they had discussed it at length and come to only one conclusion. Whatever it was, it was bad. The kind of thing they wouldn’t wish on their worst enemy. Noara’s outburst had all but confirmed their theories.

“Noara-” Darvic started before Juliaddi cut him off.

“No, you’ve talked enough, my turn.” Juliaddi glared at him until he nodded his agreement to be quiet then turned her face to the woman sitting between them. “Noara, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you, but you deserve to know who your family is. That we are out there, and we care about you. Mom and dad never forgot you, my whole life every picture they have of you has been set out. They are all over the house, mom even put one in the kitchen so she could see you when she cooked. She always said letting the Jedi take you was her greatest regret.”

“Then why…” Noara waved her hand in irritation when her voice cracked, and she couldn’t say the words.

Darvic wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “They didn’t know how to raise you with the Force,” he said gently. “Dad told me once that as an infant when you’d cry in the middle of the night all your toys would fly around the room. They didn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself or someone else. They didn’t know what else to do to get you trained to use it and they didn’t want to deny your powers or be afraid of them.”

Noara frowned down at her knees, “I guess that makes sense, but it still hurts you know?”

Juliaddi took one of Noara’s hands, forcing her to release the white-knuckle grip, and laced the fingers together. “What hurts Noara?” she prompted.

“Knowing that they replaced me as soon as I as gone,” she whispered, unable to look up at either of them. “We aren’t supposed to talk about it or even think about our families, but kids are going to talk you know? And we all kind of came to the same conclusion. Our families didn’t love us. Not enough to keep us.”

Darvic stiffened beside her and Juliaddi sucked in a sharp breath at her words. “But that isn’t true, we do love you Noara,” Darvic said emphatically.

“I’ve been told my whole life that family, attachment and love were the first steps to the darkside.” Noara shook her head sadly, “those aren’t fears I can just forget. It takes time.”

“I’m sorry Noara, I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I just was so excited to finally find you I never realized how hard this must be fore you.” Darvic tightened his arm around her shoulder comfortingly.

Juliaddi nodded, “same, I always wanted to meet my big sister. I guess we got a bit carried away.”

Laughing suddenly, Noara leaned back against Darvic’s side, “I don’t know how to be a sister at all, what makes a big sister any different?”

Scooting closer, Juliaddi hugged Noara so they were both holding her from either side. “Don’t worry, I have fourteen years of this big sister stuff under my belt. I’ll show you.”

“And we will try and be more patient with you,” Darvic said, “if you will give this a fair try.”

Noara nodded, “okay.”

“Would you please let us tell mom and dad?” he continued. “You don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to, but they should know. The Jedi Order never…” Davric sighed, “they would never tell us if you were on coruscant when the temple was attacked. They won’t admit it, but I know they are both scared that you died that day and it’s their fault.”

Noara shivered at the memories his words stirred. She hadn’t been on Coruscant, but she remembered the day it was sacked in perfect clarity. The way the masters all behaved and the pain in the air that filled her senses as the names of the dead were revealed. Knight Sovro’s name was among them, the man who saved her the year before when she ran afoul of a Sith. Noara had never lost anyone before and being told to meditate on the pain of knowing she would never see him again had been anything but helpful.

‘Okay,” she said softly, “you can tell them, but I am not ready to face them.”

“That’s okay, we’ll call them later, when we get back to my ship. They are going to be thrilled,” Juliaddi said, smiling. “In the meantime, do you like movies? How about we watch a movie and relax for a bit?”

Darvic laughed, “this is why I brought her along instead of trying to bond with you alone. Juli is good at breaking the tension, right?”

I’m seeing that,” Noara agreed. “A movie sounds good, with popcorn.”

Her siblings exchanged a smile over her head. “Yep, you are definitely one of us.”

It was still strange, sitting on the couch with her brother and sister hugging her from either side. Like a dream that felt too real. Noara had no doubt it was going to be a long road, accepting them as family and building those relationships they should have always had, but if they could be patient with her Noara was beginning to think she could manage. One itty bitty step at a time.

But first, popcorn.

#Swtor #May Drabbles '19 #whydidwedothis #OC: Noara Starspark #OC: Juliaddi Lewton #OC: Darvic Lewton #My writing

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kunoichi-ume · 5 years

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Word Count: 2178 Characters: Jurr Jinn and @cinlat‘s Kadu Jadon & Fynta wolfe Series: Jedi Sitters A/N: For those not familiar with Jurr, she was in an accident as a child that caused brain damage and her memory is solely dependent on implants. Jedi Master Kadu Jadon is a healer who specializes with cases such as Jurr’s who need round the clock medical supervision. (Totally stole this from @cinlat‘s first story about these two adorable characters because it explains them so well. I took her banner too, cause these two are so cute and I love how Jurr is looking at him here.)

Cinlat wrote this wonderful story about Kadu’s pining for Jurr and I just had to write them meeting, and how much Jurr does not like the idea.

Jurr had to force herself not to run across the hanger toward the Thunderclap. To say she was excited about her new posting would have been an understatement. Part of her still thought this was a dream and that if she pinched herself she’d wake to find herself back in the Coruscant barracks that had been her home since her last deployment had ended. Her assignments were never long term, every CO she’d ever had felt she was a risk to the rest of the team and would dispute her posting with HQ until she was shuffled back into the mix of other soldiers with no permanent assignment.

This time would be different. Thanks to a chance encounter with Fynta Wolfe, the commander of Havoc Squad, that had turned into as much of a friendship as Jurr was able to maintain had helped her land the mother of all promotions.

Commanding Officer of Havoc Squad. Spec Ops. The best of the best.

Part of Jurr was terrified, unsure how she could ever be good enough to fill the Major’s role and the other couldn’t wait to start. She’d have a place, with no one to complain to HQ until they sent her away. Instead of being the liability she would have to be the backbone of her team.

It was going to be hard, but she could do it. She had to, the constant shifting around was slowly killing her.

In the end she managed to keep her dignity as she approached the ship with only the lopsided grin on her face hinting at how eager she felt. Jurr had been on the Fury before, after a rather rowdy bar fight ended up with her nose broken. Fynta had been thoughtful enough to have her medic tend to it. The woman did a great job too, Jurr’s nose was as straight as ever.

Major Fynta Wolfe was waiting for her in the main room of the Fury along with the Cathar male Jurr might have remembered being introduced to.

The blonde woman grinned when Jurr walked in, meeting her in the middle of the room to clap Jurr’s shoulder with her hand.

“Good to see you again Major,” she said with a grin before turning to the Cathar. “Sorry I’m terrible with names…” Jurr let her voice trail off, hoping to prompt him to fill in the blank.

“Kadu Jadon,” he supplied, holding out his hand. Jurr took it in her’s and was surprised by how much warmth she could feel. “It’s good to finally meet you, Trev talks about you often.”

Jurr almost dropped his hand in shock. “You know Trev?”

Kadu smiled at her reaction. “I do, we have been friends for a long time. If even half of what he says is true it’s going to be a pleasure working with you.”

She stepped back, eye narrowing into a glare as she turned to face Fynta again. “Excuse me? I thought I was getting to put together my own crew.”

Fynta grimaced. “You will, Garza just wanted me to put forth some names and well, Kadu here is part of the deal.”

Jurr crossed her arms tightly, her heart suddenly pounding at the implication of Fynta’s words. “Are you saying that there are conditions to my promotion?”

“It wasn’t my idea but yes.” Fynta gestured at Kadu, “he’s a Jedi healer that’s going to look after your health while in the field.”

Jurr saw red. This was so far out of line she couldn’t even think of a good comparison for it.

She was an adult damnit. A Captain in the Republic Military!

She did not need a babysitter.

It didn’t matter to her that he was a jedi, or a healer, he was there to babysit her and that was unacceptable. The nerve of that… Jurr paused in her internal tirade to take a few deep breaths before she said something she would regret to one of the very few friends she had.

Fynta Wolfe had done her a solid, recommending her for the positing of Havoc CO. HAVOC. Jurr wasn’t sure there were words for what a big deal that was to her. She had never expected her career to go far. When she made Captain she was told it was the farthest up the chain she qualified for, with her disability.

Not for the first time she wondered how different her life could be if she just wasn’t broken. Oh the doors that would open for her. She would know so much about herself that she couldn’t answer now, like her name or date of birth. Who knew how far her career could go then, she had a natural aptitude for soldiering after all. Hell she might not even been a soldier and maybe, maybe if she hadn’t been in that accident, she would have a family. Or a face that didn’t look like it had been run over by a speeder because, well, it kind of was.

Without these drawbacks all the things she knew she would never have, like love, would be possible.

And now her dream promotion was being tainted by the same blemish on her life.

“Jurr?”

Fynta’s voice pulled her out of her sulking and she spun around to fix the major with a one eyed glare.

“I do not need a babysitter.”

“He isn’t a babysitter.” Fynta retored, gesturing at the Cathar standing next to her, bag still slung over his shoulder.

“Then what is he?”

“He is a doctor, a healer Jurr, and a warrior.” Fynta stepped closer, “and he is here on Trev’s recommendation.”

“Why can’t I just have Trev with me?” Jurr didn’t care that she was actively whining now. The unfairness of the situation had her on the edge of an emotional breakdown.

“You know why, Trev has his own posting and none of the special skill Kadu has.” Fynta sighed. “Jurr you are making me be the reasonable one here and I don’t like it.”

Jurr folded her arms over her chest. “Easy for you to say, you're not the one who isn’t trusted without a minder.”

“What do you call Jorgan?”

Jurr looked up at her skeptically, “I hardly think the two things compare, do you?”

“Would you want it to?” Fynta asked with mischievous smile. Jurr’s face fell and Fynta knew she had crossed a line she shouldn’t have. She hadn’t come prepared to deal with the kind of emotions she could see the younger woman trying to hide and realized she was going to see some backup if this transition of power was going to go smoothly.

Crossing the room, Fynta punched in a holofrequency she had used several times recently to help get Jurr’s promotion set in stone. The holo only rang twice before it was answered, displaying a holographic image of a young man with more visible implants than even Jurr possessed.

“Hey Major, this is an unexpected surprise.”

Skipping all plesentaries, Fynta got right to the point. “Trev I need you to explain our arrangements to Jurr, I’m not in the mood to argue with her.”

Kadu was surprised by the sudden concern on the other Jedi’s face.

“Where is she?” he asked, not bothering to ask for any details about why he was needed to help explain the situation.

Fynta grabbed Jurr by the upper arm and hauled her in front of the holo. She had just turned to snap at the manhandling when Trev smiled and said, “what’s new, JJ?”

Kadu watched in fascination, sensing the sudden flare of the Force in a woman who he swore was a null a moment before, as the aggravation on her face melted and the tension in her posture released.

“Trev,” she said with a smile, “what are you doing here?”

Trev looked past her toward Fynta, “can you give us a moment?”

“Of course, we will just be over here,” she said, ushering Kadu toward the conference room. Once they were inside Fynta grimaced. “Sorry about that, I told Jurr about you but as you can see, her memory issues aren’t exaggerated.”

Kadu nodded and set his bag down before leaning back against one of the tables. “Is she going to accept me on the squad, or should I look forward to an argument everytime she sees me?”

Fynta shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. Jurr’s memory can be so unpredictable sometimes it’s hard to know if she will recall someone or not. The only advice I can give you is that the more she interacts with someone the more likely she will remember them.”

The holo clipped to the soldier’s belt chimed and she pulled it off to check the incoming frequency. “I need to take this, I’ll be back and hopefully Trev can calm her down.”

Kadu watched her leave the room before sighing. He had taken this assignment as a favor to his friend, but Trev had failed to mention that the Jurr he always spoke so fondly of would hate the idea. He hoped the man could soothe her concerns away because, honestly, the healer in him was fascinated by what little he knew of her condition.

As the silence of the conference room settled around him, Kadu could hear the conversation from the other room. He didn’t particularly like eavesdropping, but short of plugging his ears there was little he could do to prevent his acute hearing from picking things up.

“Trev you don’t understand,” Jurr said from the other room, sounding obviously frustrated.

“Then I need you to explain it to me,” Trev said with far more patience than Kadu ever imagined he had. “I thought this promotion was something you wanted.”

“It is,” she sighed, “but I don’t want my entire life to be dictated by how broken I am.” The tone of her voice made Kadu wish he could see her face, to see if he was imagining the pain there.

“You are not broken Jurr,” Trev said firmly. “You’re are just a little different, that’s all.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Jurr said as Kadu decided to chance moving closer to the door. If he was going to hear their entire discussion, he might as well see it to give himself a better measure of the woman whose health he would soon be in charge of. “You’re implants don’t hold you back the way mine do.”

“I know, but you can’t let that stop you Jurr.” Trev smiled kindly, “if you do then you’re letting it win.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Jurr crossed her arms, “honestly Trev if I had anywhere else to go I think I’d just bag this whole army thing.” She tried not to think about how lost she would be without the military and that, if she managed to live long enough to retire the way Fynta had, she would probably have to return to the doctors and their experiments for lack of a home to return to.

“You don't mean that Jurr, you love being a soldier. The traveling and getting to help people, and don't even try to say you don’t love blowing things up.”

She tried not to smile, annoyed that he had seen through her bluff. “I do I just… I’m tired Trev. I’m tired of being shuffled around because no one wants to deal with me, and being treated like an invalid and a liability. Half my COs wouldn’t even listen to my ideas because they doubt my ability to think critically.”

“That’s why this is such a good opportunity for you. You will be the the CO, no more being shuffled around and Kadu is a good man. He’s been my friend for years.” Jurr looked away from Trev with a petulant expression on her face. “Jurr look at me.”

Reluctantly she turned back to his holo with a frown.

“I know this is hard to accept, but I had a really good feeling about this.” Trev smiled, “such a good one that I send you a package of your favorites.”

Jurr’s face lit up in a grin, “really? Will it be here soon?”

“It should be yes, but you can only have it if you accept the position and be nice to Kadu.”

Her grin turned back into a frown. “How ‘nice’ do I need to be?”

Trev laughed as Fynta walked back into the room, her own holocall over. “Just don’t shoot him and we have a deal.”

“Deal.”

“Oh good, you talked some sense into her.” Fynta smiled as she gave Jurr a friendly punch to the shoulder, before waving Kadu back unto the room. “You’ll see. This is going to be good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jurr grumbled, looking over at Kadu before a mischievous gleam entered her eye. “If you think keeping up with me is going to be easy, you are in for a surprise.”

Kadu wasn’t sure if he was concerned by the look in her eye, or excited, but he was looking forward to finding out.

#swtor #swtorhub #OC: Jurr Jiin #Fynta Wolfe #Trev Brawlin #kadu jadon #Jedi Sitters #My writing

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kunoichi-ume · 6 years

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Clashing Abdominals

Wow I feel like it’s been ages since I had something finished to post. This is set in an AU where Noara is part of @cinlat‘s oc Fynta’s Alliance and I will be totally honest, it is a silly cracky fun fic about what would happen if Fynta, Noara, Cormac, Pierce and my trooper oc Jurr were left alone in a bar together.

Obviously Cinlat owns Fynta, and this version of Cormac is her brain child because she took the npc and gave him the life he deserved (and god I love him so much).

On ao3.

Aric Jorgan was used to walking in on strange situations. It was a common occurrence in his life ever since Fynta showed up, and only became more and more frequent as their unique family grew. Life on Odessen had only amplified it. It was almost as if the Alliance was some sort of magnet for the most excessively boisterous personalities in the universe.

Really it was a miracle they accomplished anything.

But even he had to admit walking into one of the back rooms of the cantina to find Cormac and Pierce shirtless while Fynta and Jurr took turns tossing credits at their abs was high on the list.

“Bloody fucking hell woman,” Pierce snapped when the credit Jurr threw fell directly at his feet. “Throw it properly.”

The eyebrow above her one golden eye arched up dangerously at him. “Don’t be pissy with me just because you’re losing,” she returned, flicking a credit at Cormac’s torso to emphasize her point. The credit hit his abs and ricocheted toward the far side of the room.

Pierce glared at the other man, “I don't know how but you are cheating.”

Cormac laughed loudly. “How could I be cheating? There is literally nothing up my sleeves,” he said holding up his arms and flexing impressively.

Aric crossed the room to stand next to his wife, watching as Pierce demanded Jurr throw another credit at him. “Do I want to ask what is going on?”

Fynta grinned at him, “Cormac bet Pierce that his abs are better for bouncing a credit off of. Jurr and I have been taking turns throwing ‘em.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the two shirtless men, and then back as his wife. “Alright, how is Cormac winning? They are almost the same physique wise.”

Moving so she was out of Pierce’s line of sight, Fynta subtly gestured to the side of the room. Following her direction, he saw Noara and Torian sitting on a bench against the wall. He hadn’t noticed them before and at first thought it was strange she wasn’t in the thick of things, until he noticed the sly smile she sent his way. She was leaning against Torians side and had her arm hanging down between his legs to keep it out of sight. From Aric’s angle he could see her gesturing slightly everytime Jurr threw a credit chip. Without glancing behind him he could tell who Jurr was aiming at, Noara would gesture toward the floor and Pierce would groan, and jerk her hand to the side when Cormac would guffaw smugly.

Somehow, even after years of working with Sith, it hadn’t occurred to Pierce that a nearby Force user could be influencing the credits. Granted from the angle the soldier had it looked an awful lot like Noara was very preoccupied with the Mandalorian sitting next to her.

“That’s it,” Pierce growled after Noara once again flicked her hand toward the floor making the credit land in the pile at his feet. “You girls are doing this all wrong.”

Aric had his back to the man and could still feel the moment he realized what he had said. Being able to see the glare Fynta was shooting at him, and knowing Jurr well enough to know she was giving just as good, helped.

“I mean,” the Imperial soldier said carefully, “you two are doing this wrong. I demand a new bowler.”

“Really?” Jurr scoffed, “just accept defeat.”

“Never. Jorgan, c’mon help me out here.”

Aric leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling and sighed. He’d wanted to see what trouble his wife was getting into, not join in their antics. Cormac and Jurr both called for him to join them but it wasn’t until Fynta pushed him toward the other men that he gave into the inevitability that he would have to do it.

Making his displeasure known, Aric crossed the room to where Jurr was waiting for him with a fist full of credits. She passed them over with a grin and her usual odd one eyed wink. The Cathar rubbed one of the credits between his fingers as he studied to the men standing in front of him.

“You both look ridiculous,” he said after a moment, “you know that right?”

Cormac laughed and Pierce glared at him. “Just get on with it,” he snapped.

Narrowing his eyes at the Imperial, Aric flicked the credit at him forcefully. Pierce grunted when it hit him harder than any of Jurr’s and cursed loudly when it fell at his feet.

“Asshole,” Pierce muttered, rubbing his abused abs.

Aric grinned at him, flashing sharp teeth, “you’re the one who wanted me to play.”

Pierce scoffed and gestured at Cormac, “you better hit him as hard as you did me.”

Shaking his head, Aric flicked a second credit. As expected, it bounced off his abs and flew toward the back of the cantina.

“Fine,” Pierce growled, throwing his arms up, “you win. This time.”

“And once again the best abs prevail,” Cormac whooped happily and bowed dramatically before starting to collect the credits off the floor.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pierce grumbled, taking the shirt Jurr offered him and pulling it on roughly. “I know you cheated.”

“No proof, no guilt,” Fynta said with a grin. “And now you get to buy the next round.”

Sighing heavily, Pierce nodded before gesturing at Jurr, “come help me carry shit.”

“Oh, you do know how to talk to a lady,” she said, punching him in the arm but starting toward the bar anyway.

As they were passing where Noara and Torian were sitting, Pierce stopped dead. Everyone in the room watched as he stared at the young Jedi who, to her credit, had a great pazaak face as she looked up at him.

“Need something Pierce?” Noara asked, smiling a bit too innocently.

“You know,” he bit out, once the pieces fell into place, “I expect that kind of dishonestly from a Sith, not a Jedi.”

“Ouch, you wound me.”

Pierce folded his arms over his chest, “what did he bribe you with.”

“Not much,” she grinned, raising her hand, waving at something behind him and catching the pouch of credits that flew into her hand. “Just my share of your money.”

Pierce laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he started toward the bar with Jurr at his elbow, “so much for the poverty of Jedi.”

#Swtor #Aric Jorgan #lieutenant pierce #Balic Cormac #Fynta Wolfe #Cinlat's oc #OC: Noara Starspark #OC: Jurr Jiin #Hey look #a star wars fic with fuck in it #Boohya

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