Wonderful I like Akaavi's reasoning behind Mandalorian animosity for Jedi.

 

Not sure if she'd really need help rescuing her man though. I hope you write more about them.

 

Thanks. And this is actually part of a bigger story I've been writing/thinking up. She didn't come to the Jedi readily, trust me.

Mix It Up, with my smuggler Nic and my old Giradda the Hutt homegirl Crezelle! No spoilers.

 

 

Nic didn’t like the look of the docking bay the Blast Radius settled into. It was mostly okay, except the Chagrian contact who had paid for her shipment of reactive duraplex casings wasn’t there; instead there was a voluptuous Chiss woman in practical work clothes.

 

Reactive duraplex casings were a little too expensive to be playing loose business with.

 

She settled down and signaled Akaavi and Risha to come with her to meet the strangers. “Hiya,” she called. “Name’s Nic. Can I do something for you?”

 

“I had to take over the pickup,” explained the Chiss. She had a shameless Imperial accent. “I’ve got your credits.”

 

“I have some reservations about surprise pickup switcheroos,” said Nic.

 

“You could try to reach your original buyer, but he’s a little too dead to answer. I’ve got your asking price, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

 

Um. Nic eyed the scar running down one side of the Chiss woman’s face. “…Great! I think we can do busin…hello, what have we here?”

 

The reason for the subject switch was a tall slim human male…probably human? His eyes were black, all black. He was strikingly handsome and possibly less crazy than the Chiss.

 

The Chiss smirked. “This is my associate Vector. I’m Crezelle, by the way. Vector here helps me with diplomatic relations.”

 

“Really? Facilitating diplomatic relations is a specialty of mine.” Nic was pretty sure she actually heard Risha rolling her eyes. “I’m Nic. We should trade tips.”

 

“Greetings. This could be a constructive exercise,” said Vector cautiously.

 

“I sure think so. Whaddya say? Drinks, stims, and other interesting activities over at the cantina tonight?”

 

“Ah…tonight is less than practical for us,” said Vector. He looked down at Crezelle. “If we are to make the Dance of Gathering, we will have to depart soon.”

 

Crezelle tilted her head and grinned. “Where are your manners, Vector? If our new friend wants interesting activities, we could invite her.” She looked to Nic. “You girls can come along, if you want to see how Killiks party.”

 

“I do not want to see how Killiks party,” said Akaavi levelly.

 

“What are Killiks?” said Nic.

 

Crezelle’s grin broadened. “Oh. Oh, I think you’ll like it.”

 

“Um. Imperials who ‘know what I’m going to like’ very rarely give me things I like.”

 

“You ‘Pubs are awfully uptight about that kind of thing. Come on, live a little.”

 

“I want to live a lot. Not trusting Imperials helps with that.”

 

“Your loss. Guess I’ll have to keep the membrosia for myself.” Crezelle giggled. “It’s a high like nothing you’ve ever had, I guarantee.”

 

Risha made a small alarmed noise. Nic perked up. “Is it, now?”

 

*

 

Nic and Risha reeled off Crezelle’s lovely ship with their arms wrapped around each other for support. Crezelle’s ship was really lovely. Her crew was lovely. The membrosia of the Killik hive was entirely lovely. The bugs, after the pheromones overcame her initial hysterical meltdown and gibbering fear of arthropods, were lovely.

 

“Thanks for the lift home,” said Nic, remembering her manners.

 

“We are traditionally the designated driver,” said Vector. “You’re welcome.”

 

Crezelle slipped her arm around his waist and hardly swayed at all. “Come back any time to enjoy the nest, sweetie. But next time, keep your hands off Vector.”

 

“I kept hands off,” said Nic. “There were no hands. Right? There weren’t any hands.”

 

“There were hands,” reported Risha.

 

“Oh. Uh, sorry?”

 

Crezelle chortled. “Well, honeybee, I do owe you one for Voss. So I'll be gracious this time." She winked at Nic. "As for you, I can’t fault your taste.”

 

LOVED IT. LOVED it. Loved IT. LOVED IT.

 

One more time?

 

L-O-V-E-D I-T.

 

Okay, I'm done.

 

Been busy this week so I sat down and read everything in one shot. That was 7 awesome kinds of fun and killed a couple hours. I'll share mine tomorrow... er. later today? I still can't decide if it's cannon or not. I think J R Ward is having an effect on my writing. If anyone reads Black Dagger Brotherhood then you'll see it right away.

 

*edits story again*

Catching Up with a companion of my Human Smuggler, Teague Kilrik, speaking to my Miraluka Jedi Counselor, Zantel. Spoilers for the Smuggler Storyline follow. Implied male!Smuggler/Akaavi Spar.

 

 

"We need to talk, Jedi."

 

At the best of times, Mandalorians were not the sort of people to be trifled with, even by Jedi or Sith, but the Mandalorian woman standing before him looked like she would tear the Temple apart if he refused, not to mention she had somehow found her way on the Jedi homeworld of Tython unnoticed and was demanding member of the Jedi High Council's time, techstaff in hand. Nonetheless, Zantel sensed something. Anger, yes. Undoubtedly. But there was also worry, desperation, and fear. Not for herself, but for someone else.

 

"I did not know Mandalorians used stealth belts."

 

"It is a friend's. I needed to talk to you without killing a Jedi if he was foolish enough to get in my way."

 

"Who exactly are you? You must know who I am or you would not have gone to so much trouble finding you."

 

"I am Akaavi Spar and I did not come here for pleasantry. This concerns a matter of clan. Your clan."

 

"A Jedi has no clan. He detaches himself from familial entanglements in order to serve the Galaxy better," the Miraluka stated with a frown, "And my parents are dead and my brother...."

 

"Needs your help, Jedi," Akaavi interrupted impatiently, "Or I wouldn't be on this accursed planet!"

 

The Jedi Master frowned slightly, unconsciously biting his lip, a habit that he had not repeated since childhood. His brother brought back old memories. Good ones and, more recently, not so pleasant ones.

 

"Teague chose his own path long ago, Mandalorian. First when he turned to crime and again when he led a fleet of pirates against the Republic and Empire over Corellia."

 

"He refused to be the Republic's or anyone's dog after the Empire tried to use him."

 

"He killed innocent people!"

 

"There is no such thing."

 

Zantel frowned even more, releasing his irritation into the Force, "I'm not about to use my influence to make the Republic free him."

 

"Who says your Republic caught him?”

 

For a moment, there was silence from the Jedi, but, at last, he spoke quietly.

 

“If the Empire has him, he's dead already. They wouldn't take a chance with a prisoner like him.”

 

Zantel heard rather than felt the impact of her fist on his face.

 

“Hut'uun! You'd just let your own blood, your ori'vod, your own brother die without looking for him or avenging him?”

There was silence and for a moment, Zantel felt himself remember a familiar presence, one crackling with laughter and mischief even as Zantel warned that he would get them both in trouble. Despite himself, visions of that same person in the hands of the Empire arose, of long torture by machines and cruel soldiers, of a Sith Lord worming his way in his brother's mind.

 

“Family is paramount to Mandalorians. To ignore bonds of blood is the greatest sort of betrayal to us, and this is why we despise Jedi. You forget everything for the sake of a stagnant Republic, run by strangers. I will find him without your help, Jedi.”

 

With that, Akaavi turned her back on the Jedi, but just as she reached the doorway, he spoke.

 

“I will go... My brother always did need someone to rescue him.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed it. It's my first story here.

 

I don't have Akaavi yet. Now I want her. My friend's gunslinger rolls with her and wanted to SGRA her. Now I think I'm going to want to as well. Bravo.

I don't have Akaavi yet. Now I want her. My friend's gunslinger rolls with her and wanted to SGRA her. Now I think I'm going to want to as well. Bravo.

 

oh shes the only female i want to sgr. corso better pray they wont let my smuggler dump him for her latter on.

i don't think he would know how to handle walking in on f!smug with another girl.

Catching Up with a companion of my Human Smuggler, Teague Kilrik, speaking to my Miraluka Jedi Counselor, Zantel. Spoilers for the Smuggler Storyline follow. Implied male!Smuggler/Akaavi Spar.

 

 

"We need to talk, Jedi."

 

At the best of times, Mandalorians were not the sort of people to be trifled with, even by Jedi or Sith, but the Mandalorian woman standing before him looked like she would tear the Temple apart if he refused, not to mention she had somehow found her way on the Jedi homeworld of Tython unnoticed and was demanding member of the Jedi High Council's time, techstaff in hand. Nonetheless, Zantel sensed something. Anger, yes. Undoubtedly. But there was also worry, desperation, and fear. Not for herself, but for someone else.

 

"I did not know Mandalorians used stealth belts."

 

"It is a friend's. I needed to talk to you without killing a Jedi if he was foolish enough to get in my way."

 

"Who exactly are you? You must know who I am or you would not have gone to so much trouble finding you."

 

"I am Akaavi Spar and I did not come here for pleasantry. This concerns a matter of clan. Your clan."

 

"A Jedi has no clan. He detaches himself from familial entanglements in order to serve the Galaxy better," the Miraluka stated with a frown, "And my parents are dead and my brother...."

 

"Needs your help, Jedi," Akaavi interrupted impatiently, "Or I wouldn't be on this accursed planet!"

 

The Jedi Master frowned slightly, unconsciously biting his lip, a habit that he had not repeated since childhood. His brother brought back old memories. Good ones and, more recently, not so pleasant ones.

 

"Teague chose his own path long ago, Mandalorian. First when he turned to crime and again when he led a fleet of pirates against the Republic and Empire over Corellia."

 

"He refused to be the Republic's or anyone's dog after the Empire tried to use him."

 

"He killed innocent people!"

 

"There is no such thing."

 

Zantel frowned even more, releasing his irritation into the Force, "I'm not about to use my influence to make the Republic free him."

 

"Who says your Republic caught him?”

 

For a moment, there was silence from the Jedi, but, at last, he spoke quietly.

 

“If the Empire has him, he's dead already. They wouldn't take a chance with a prisoner like him.”

 

Zantel heard rather than felt the impact of her fist on his face.

 

“Hut'uun! You'd just let your own blood, your ori'vod, your own brother die without looking for him or avenging him?”

There was silence and for a moment, Zantel felt himself remember a familiar presence, one crackling with laughter and mischief even as Zantel warned that he would get them both in trouble. Despite himself, visions of that same person in the hands of the Empire arose, of long torture by machines and cruel soldiers, of a Sith Lord worming his way in his brother's mind.

 

“Family is paramount to Mandalorians. To ignore bonds of blood is the greatest sort of betrayal to us, and this is why we despise Jedi. You forget everything for the sake of a stagnant Republic, run by strangers. I will find him without your help, Jedi.”

 

With that, Akaavi turned her back on the Jedi, but just as she reached the doorway, he spoke.

 

“I will go... My brother always did need someone to rescue him.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed it. It's my first story here.

 

Welcome to the thread! I like Akaavi's attitude. I love me some Akaavi in general. I'll have to jump on the "I would've SGRed her in a heartbeat" bandwagon here.

Kaavi is my homegirl! Don't know if I would have sgr'ed her, but her and my smugg are really close. Now with the customization I put on Risha, meow, I would have SGRd her in a heartbeat. I apparently like em pretty with attitude.

Catching Up with a companion of my Human Smuggler, Teague Kilrik, speaking to my Miraluka Jedi Counselor, Zantel. Spoilers for the Smuggler Storyline follow. Implied male!Smuggler/Akaavi Spar.

 

 

"We need to talk, Jedi."

 

At the best of times, Mandalorians were not the sort of people to be trifled with, even by Jedi or Sith, but the Mandalorian woman standing before him looked like she would tear the Temple apart if he refused, not to mention she had somehow found her way on the Jedi homeworld of Tython unnoticed and was demanding member of the Jedi High Council's time, techstaff in hand. Nonetheless, Zantel sensed something. Anger, yes. Undoubtedly. But there was also worry, desperation, and fear. Not for herself, but for someone else.

 

"I did not know Mandalorians used stealth belts."

 

"It is a friend's. I needed to talk to you without killing a Jedi if he was foolish enough to get in my way."

 

"Who exactly are you? You must know who I am or you would not have gone to so much trouble finding you."

 

"I am Akaavi Spar and I did not come here for pleasantry. This concerns a matter of clan. Your clan."

 

"A Jedi has no clan. He detaches himself from familial entanglements in order to serve the Galaxy better," the Miraluka stated with a frown, "And my parents are dead and my brother...."

 

"Needs your help, Jedi," Akaavi interrupted impatiently, "Or I wouldn't be on this accursed planet!"

 

The Jedi Master frowned slightly, unconsciously biting his lip, a habit that he had not repeated since childhood. His brother brought back old memories. Good ones and, more recently, not so pleasant ones.

 

"Teague chose his own path long ago, Mandalorian. First when he turned to crime and again when he led a fleet of pirates against the Republic and Empire over Corellia."

 

"He refused to be the Republic's or anyone's dog after the Empire tried to use him."

 

"He killed innocent people!"

 

"There is no such thing."

 

Zantel frowned even more, releasing his irritation into the Force, "I'm not about to use my influence to make the Republic free him."

 

"Who says your Republic caught him?”

 

For a moment, there was silence from the Jedi, but, at last, he spoke quietly.

 

“If the Empire has him, he's dead already. They wouldn't take a chance with a prisoner like him.”

 

Zantel heard rather than felt the impact of her fist on his face.

 

“Hut'uun! You'd just let your own blood, your ori'vod, your own brother die without looking for him or avenging him?”

There was silence and for a moment, Zantel felt himself remember a familiar presence, one crackling with laughter and mischief even as Zantel warned that he would get them both in trouble. Despite himself, visions of that same person in the hands of the Empire arose, of long torture by machines and cruel soldiers, of a Sith Lord worming his way in his brother's mind.

 

“Family is paramount to Mandalorians. To ignore bonds of blood is the greatest sort of betrayal to us, and this is why we despise Jedi. You forget everything for the sake of a stagnant Republic, run by strangers. I will find him without your help, Jedi.”

 

With that, Akaavi turned her back on the Jedi, but just as she reached the doorway, he spoke.

 

“I will go... My brother always did need someone to rescue him.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed it. It's my first story here.

 

I like this! And welcome to the thread. Akaavi doesn't get near enough face time around here, and you captured her really well.

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note:

 

I'm glad so many people like my story. I'll be sure to write more.

 

 

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

 

Captain Aric Jorgan was looking for an excuse. Any excuse. The tactics of the last battle they'd had. The weather outside the ship hangar where the Blue Bukk rested for the night. The Weequay passed out from too much alcohol and glitterstim laying in the same room where she was... what was she doing?

 

Curiosity burned his chest, but he had no excuse to go look. Not one that wouldn't make him look like an idiot at least. He'd been fighting making a fool out of himself in front of her for going on six weeks now. She was politely pretending not to notice.

 

So when the holo in the middle of the room signaled an incoming message, Jorgan answered immediately in an attempt to get his mind off her. When the man on the other end of the holo asked for her by her first name, Jorgan had to fight not to bristle and 'accidentally' sever the connection. Instead he put the call on hold and pushed back his shoulders, crossing to the crew quarters where she was.

 

She was in front of a small mirror brushing her hair while Tanno Vik snored like a charging rancor on a bed in the wall. Words died on Jorgan's lips as he looked at her profile, looked all those lustrous black locks falling down her back. Ipha always wore her hair up in a snag tail. Jorgan had had no idea how long her hair actually was. He had the strongest urge to bury his hands in the waves as they cascaded down her shoulders and-

 

Crap. The holo. He really needed to get it together.

 

Jorgan cleared his throat and she tilted her head in his direction and smiled. “Captain,”she said quietly by way of greeting. Vik snorted in his sleep and jerked nearly onto the floor.

 

“You have a call,” he said gruffly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

 

Her features took on a comical look of confusion. Jorgan found himself liking her slightly over exaggerated facial expressions. She spoke with words that didn't always mean what they were supposed to and looking at her face would tell him how she really felt. Unless it was one of those times when she deadpanned and then all bets were off.

 

“I do? Who is it?” she asked and, faster than he imagined his fingers would have been, she scooped her hair back into its tail and snapped the holder into place. The pieces that were still too short to be held back drifted into their places at her cheeks and the she pushed impatiently at the fringe that flopped back down over her forehead. Jorgan wanted to be the one that swept it from her eyes.

 

“He wouldn't give me a name,” he said unhappily.

 

“Oh, that's promising,” Ipha sighed. She followed him into the main body of the ship and bent over the holo. Jorgan turned to give her privacy but she stopped him in his tracks with his name. “You should stay here, Jorgan. You know, in case I need a witness.” She flashed him a grin and a wink and he took up residence against the wall, out of sight of the caller. He wanted her to smile at him again.

 

But she fired up the holo and blinked in surprise at the man calling for her. “Oh, Dr. Drend. N- uh, nice to see you.”

 

“Ipha,” the man said, drawing the ahhh sound of her name out longer than was really necessary. Jorgan disliked the man instantly. “How many times have I told you? Call me Cobiat. I thought we were good friends.” Drend's voice was oil over metal, slippery and sleazy.

 

Ipha quietly cleared her throat and side stepped the unspoken suggestion. “So, how are things?”

 

“Ipha.” Again with the distended ahhh. Jorgan felt the urge to throttle something. “Please tell me it's not true. It's not true, is it?”

 

“Ah, true? Probably. Most things people say about me are true, especially the unflattering stuff.” Ipha flicked a glance at Jorgan but he was glowering at Dr. Drend's image.

 

“I heard an unfortunate rumor that you've been recalled to active service. And since my holocall was redirected onto the Republic's spec force flagship, I have to guess it is true. I can make some calls if you'd like, pull some strings. I can have you back in the laboratory by the end of the week.” Drend's voice was warm and expecting, like it was obvious she would fall to her knees in gratitude.

 

“Oh. Uh. That's a very kind offer, Doctor. But, ah, I actually requested to be returned to active duty.” As though to illustrate her point, she fell into a relaxed parade rest.

 

“No!” Drend cried dramatically. “This can't be! Is there anything I can do, anything I can say that will make you change your mind, Ipha?”

 

Every time Drend said her name, Jorgan wanted to rip the guts out of the holo, just to shut him up. The smarmy lab rat had to be more than twice her age. And that was being kind.

 

“I'm a soldier first, Doctor. Always have been, and I always will be. Maybe when I can't contribute in the field anymore I'll go back to the labs.” Ipha kept her tone very even, very conversational. She had made the mistake of being friendly with Cobiat Drend when they had worked together on a project a year ago. He had taken her friendly interest in him as something else entirely and trying to shake him off was like trying shake a womp rat off your leg.

 

“Your brilliant mind belongs with us, Ipha. Surely you can understand the risk you're taking. If I- we were to lose you, the medical field would suffer greatly.”

 

“I think this is going to work out, Doctor. You conjure up the technology, and I'll see it tested on the field.” Ipha started to pace in front of the holo, her mind going in a different direction than what Drend certainly wished for. “In fact, I could make adjustments and fine tune on the fly. If Dorne and I put our heads together, seeing the practical applications and implications of any new medical tech you send our way, we can put your projects through their paces and get them into the hands of soldiers that really need them that much faster.” Ipha paused and smiled brilliantly at Drend and Jorgan's chest constricted. “The way I see it, this is the perfect kind of partnership.”

 

Drend eyed Ipha for a moment and Jorgan could see the wheels turning in his head. But after a moment, the good doctor smiled and nodded. “You are certainly one of a kind. And you will be missed greatly on the 'conjuring' side of things. But you will keep in touch, won't you? We can talk... medical tech and you can give me your honest opinions on the usefulness of our creations.”

 

Ipha inclined her head. “Always happy to talk shop, Doctor.”

 

“Please. Call me Cobiat. I insist.”

 

Jorgan's fist balled at his side and he consciously flexed it. The only thing keeping him from doing something gravely embarrassing was that Ipha had no apparent interest in this guy. At least, not the way he wanted.

 

Ipha looked quickly back at Jorgan and Drend turned his head. “Is there someone else here?” he asked, his voice warm over an icy core.

 

“Captain Jorgan and I were going over some tactics before you called. I didn't see a reason to kick him out. He says hello.” The corner of Ipha's mouth lifted in a near mockery of politeness but she gained control of her face in an instant.

 

“I should let you get back to it,” Drend said stiffly. “I look forward to hearing from you again, Ipha.”

 

“Take care of yourself, Doctor,” Ipha said and nodded her head. “Kodrevas out.” She severed the connection and stood for a moment staring at the spot Drend had been. Then she shivered violently as though something slimy had crawled up her spine. “Ugh. I need to go set myself on fire,” she muttered, adjusting the position of her shoulders like she was shaking something off.

 

“Want to just go drink that conversation away?' Jorgan asked, then immediately regretted it.

 

“With you?” she asked, schooling surprise off her face before he fully registered it was there.

 

Jorgan put a hand to the back of his neck. Rubbed hard. Cursed his mouth. “Well, yeah. Everyone else is busy. Or sleeping last night off still. We could go to a cantina.” Why was he still talking? A simple no, I got stuff, sorry would have sufficed.

 

“Yeah,” Ipha said brightly. “Sounds perfect. Since I can't serve Drend a nice tall glass of shut the frack up, you could be a real gentleman and soothe my frazzled nerves by buying the first round.”

 

Now he smiled. “Deal.”

 

 

Author's Note:

This may not be exactly how everyone interprets Aric. But after it was pointed out to me how jealous he was of Balkar on Nar Shaddaa I wanted to explore that side again, since I technically missed it the first time around. However, his jealousies are mostly inner monologue this time. I guess I'm cruel but I get tingly at the idea of Ipha throwing his perfect soldier facade into a tizzy just by being around. I must not be very creative because that's basically what Ellivian does to Quinn.

 

Awesome story. I never played Trooper, but Aric is acting how I would. Loved it.

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

 

Captain Aric Jorgan was looking for an excuse. Any excuse. The tactics of the last battle they'd had. The weather outside the ship hangar where the Blue Bukk rested for the night. The Weequay passed out from too much alcohol and glitterstim laying in the same room where she was... what was she doing?

 

Curiosity burned his chest, but he had no excuse to go look. Not one that wouldn't make him look like an idiot at least. He'd been fighting making a fool out of himself in front of her for going on six weeks now. She was politely pretending not to notice.

 

So when the holo in the middle of the room signaled an incoming message, Jorgan answered immediately in an attempt to get his mind off her. When the man on the other end of the holo asked for her by her first name, Jorgan had to fight not to bristle and 'accidentally' sever the connection. Instead he put the call on hold and pushed back his shoulders, crossing to the crew quarters where she was.

 

She was in front of a small mirror brushing her hair while Tanno Vik snored like a charging rancor on a bed in the wall. Words died on Jorgan's lips as he looked at her profile, looked all those lustrous black locks falling down her back. Ipha always wore her hair up in a snag tail. Jorgan had had no idea how long her hair actually was. He had the strongest urge to bury his hands in the waves as they cascaded down her shoulders and-

 

Crap. The holo. He really needed to get it together.

 

Jorgan cleared his throat and she tilted her head in his direction and smiled. “Captain,”she said quietly by way of greeting. Vik snorted in his sleep and jerked nearly onto the floor.

 

“You have a call,” he said gruffly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

 

Her features took on a comical look of confusion. Jorgan found himself liking her slightly over exaggerated facial expressions. She spoke with words that didn't always mean what they were supposed to and looking at her face would tell him how she really felt. Unless it was one of those times when she deadpanned and then all bets were off.

 

“I do? Who is it?” she asked and, faster than he imagined his fingers would have been, she scooped her hair back into its tail and snapped the holder into place. The pieces that were still too short to be held back drifted into their places at her cheeks and the she pushed impatiently at the fringe that flopped back down over her forehead. Jorgan wanted to be the one that swept it from her eyes.

 

“He wouldn't give me a name,” he said unhappily.

 

“Oh, that's promising,” Ipha sighed. She followed him into the main body of the ship and bent over the holo. Jorgan turned to give her privacy but she stopped him in his tracks with his name. “You should stay here, Jorgan. You know, in case I need a witness.” She flashed him a grin and a wink and he took up residence against the wall, out of sight of the caller. He wanted her to smile at him again.

 

But she fired up the holo and blinked in surprise at the man calling for her. “Oh, Dr. Drend. N- uh, nice to see you.”

 

“Ipha,” the man said, drawing the ahhh sound of her name out longer than was really necessary. Jorgan disliked the man instantly. “How many times have I told you? Call me Cobiat. I thought we were good friends.” Drend's voice was oil over metal, slippery and sleazy.

 

Ipha quietly cleared her throat and side stepped the unspoken suggestion. “So, how are things?”

 

“Ipha.” Again with the distended ahhh. Jorgan felt the urge to throttle something. “Please tell me it's not true. It's not true, is it?”

 

“Ah, true? Probably. Most things people say about me are true, especially the unflattering stuff.” Ipha flicked a glance at Jorgan but he was glowering at Dr. Drend's image.

 

“I heard an unfortunate rumor that you've been recalled to active service. And since my holocall was redirected onto the Republic's spec force flagship, I have to guess it is true. I can make some calls if you'd like, pull some strings. I can have you back in the laboratory by the end of the week.” Drend's voice was warm and expecting, like it was obvious she would fall to her knees in gratitude.

 

“Oh. Uh. That's a very kind offer, Doctor. But, ah, I actually requested to be returned to active duty.” As though to illustrate her point, she fell into a relaxed parade rest.

 

“No!” Drend cried dramatically. “This can't be! Is there anything I can do, anything I can say that will make you change your mind, Ipha?”

 

Every time Drend said her name, Jorgan wanted to rip the guts out of the holo, just to shut him up. The smarmy lab rat had to be more than twice her age. And that was being kind.

 

“I'm a soldier first, Doctor. Always have been, and I always will be. Maybe when I can't contribute in the field anymore I'll go back to the labs.” Ipha kept her tone very even, very conversational. She had made the mistake of being friendly with Cobiat Drend when they had worked together on a project a year ago. He had taken her friendly interest in him as something else entirely and trying to shake him off was like trying shake a womp rat off your leg.

 

“Your brilliant mind belongs with us, Ipha. Surely you can understand the risk you're taking. If I- we were to lose you, the medical field would suffer greatly.”

 

“I think this is going to work out, Doctor. You conjure up the technology, and I'll see it tested on the field.” Ipha started to pace in front of the holo, her mind going in a different direction than what Drend certainly wished for. “In fact, I could make adjustments and fine tune on the fly. If Dorne and I put our heads together, seeing the practical applications and implications of any new medical tech you send our way, we can put your projects through their paces and get them into the hands of soldiers that really need them that much faster.” Ipha paused and smiled brilliantly at Drend and Jorgan's chest constricted. “The way I see it, this is the perfect kind of partnership.”

 

Drend eyed Ipha for a moment and Jorgan could see the wheels turning in his head. But after a moment, the good doctor smiled and nodded. “You are certainly one of a kind. And you will be missed greatly on the 'conjuring' side of things. But you will keep in touch, won't you? We can talk... medical tech and you can give me your honest opinions on the usefulness of our creations.”

 

Ipha inclined her head. “Always happy to talk shop, Doctor.”

 

“Please. Call me Cobiat. I insist.”

 

Jorgan's fist balled at his side and he consciously flexed it. The only thing keeping him from doing something gravely embarrassing was that Ipha had no apparent interest in this guy. At least, not the way he wanted.

 

Ipha looked quickly back at Jorgan and Drend turned his head. “Is there someone else here?” he asked, his voice warm over an icy core.

 

“Captain Jorgan and I were going over some tactics before you called. I didn't see a reason to kick him out. He says hello.” The corner of Ipha's mouth lifted in a near mockery of politeness but she gained control of her face in an instant.

 

“I should let you get back to it,” Drend said stiffly. “I look forward to hearing from you again, Ipha.”

 

“Take care of yourself, Doctor,” Ipha said and nodded her head. “Kodrevas out.” She severed the connection and stood for a moment staring at the spot Drend had been. Then she shivered violently as though something slimy had crawled up her spine. “Ugh. I need to go set myself on fire,” she muttered, adjusting the position of her shoulders like she was shaking something off.

 

“Want to just go drink that conversation away?' Jorgan asked, then immediately regretted it.

 

“With you?” she asked, schooling surprise off her face before he fully registered it was there.

 

Jorgan put a hand to the back of his neck. Rubbed hard. Cursed his mouth. “Well, yeah. Everyone else is busy. Or sleeping last night off still. We could go to a cantina.” Why was he still talking? A simple no, I got stuff, sorry would have sufficed.

 

“Yeah,” Ipha said brightly. “Sounds perfect. Since I can't serve Drend a nice tall glass of shut the frack up, you could be a real gentleman and soothe my frazzled nerves by buying the first round.”

 

Now he smiled. “Deal.”

 

 

Author's Note:

This may not be exactly how everyone interprets Aric. But after it was pointed out to me how jealous he was of Balkar on Nar Shaddaa I wanted to explore that side again, since I technically missed it the first time around. However, his jealousies are mostly inner monologue this time. I guess I'm cruel but I get tingly at the idea of Ipha throwing his perfect soldier facade into a tizzy just by being around. I must not be very creative because that's basically what Ellivian does to Quinn.

 

Oh, I like this reading of Aric. I sympathize very, very much. Both with the "tiniest gesture completely wrecking my train of thought" and the "powerful urge to harm any guy(girl) who treats my favorite person like that."

Edited July 18, 2012 by bright_ephemera

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

 

Captain Aric Jorgan was looking for an excuse. Any excuse. The tactics of the last battle they'd had. The weather outside the ship hangar where the Blue Bukk rested for the night. The Weequay passed out from too much alcohol and glitterstim laying in the same room where she was... what was she doing?

 

Curiosity burned his chest, but he had no excuse to go look. Not one that wouldn't make him look like an idiot at least. He'd been fighting making a fool out of himself in front of her for going on six weeks now. She was politely pretending not to notice.

 

So when the holo in the middle of the room signaled an incoming message, Jorgan answered immediately in an attempt to get his mind off her. When the man on the other end of the holo asked for her by her first name, Jorgan had to fight not to bristle and 'accidentally' sever the connection. Instead he put the call on hold and pushed back his shoulders, crossing to the crew quarters where she was.

 

She was in front of a small mirror brushing her hair while Tanno Vik snored like a charging rancor on a bed in the wall. Words died on Jorgan's lips as he looked at her profile, looked all those lustrous black locks falling down her back. Ipha always wore her hair up in a snag tail. Jorgan had had no idea how long her hair actually was. He had the strongest urge to bury his hands in the waves as they cascaded down her shoulders and-

 

Crap. The holo. He really needed to get it together.

 

Jorgan cleared his throat and she tilted her head in his direction and smiled. “Captain,”she said quietly by way of greeting. Vik snorted in his sleep and jerked nearly onto the floor.

 

“You have a call,” he said gruffly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

 

Her features took on a comical look of confusion. Jorgan found himself liking her slightly over exaggerated facial expressions. She spoke with words that didn't always mean what they were supposed to and looking at her face would tell him how she really felt. Unless it was one of those times when she deadpanned and then all bets were off.

 

“I do? Who is it?” she asked and, faster than he imagined his fingers would have been, she scooped her hair back into its tail and snapped the holder into place. The pieces that were still too short to be held back drifted into their places at her cheeks and the she pushed impatiently at the fringe that flopped back down over her forehead. Jorgan wanted to be the one that swept it from her eyes.

 

“He wouldn't give me a name,” he said unhappily.

 

“Oh, that's promising,” Ipha sighed. She followed him into the main body of the ship and bent over the holo. Jorgan turned to give her privacy but she stopped him in his tracks with his name. “You should stay here, Jorgan. You know, in case I need a witness.” She flashed him a grin and a wink and he took up residence against the wall, out of sight of the caller. He wanted her to smile at him again.

 

But she fired up the holo and blinked in surprise at the man calling for her. “Oh, Dr. Drend. N- uh, nice to see you.”

 

“Ipha,” the man said, drawing the ahhh sound of her name out longer than was really necessary. Jorgan disliked the man instantly. “How many times have I told you? Call me Cobiat. I thought we were good friends.” Drend's voice was oil over metal, slippery and sleazy.

 

Ipha quietly cleared her throat and side stepped the unspoken suggestion. “So, how are things?”

 

“Ipha.” Again with the distended ahhh. Jorgan felt the urge to throttle something. “Please tell me it's not true. It's not true, is it?”

 

“Ah, true? Probably. Most things people say about me are true, especially the unflattering stuff.” Ipha flicked a glance at Jorgan but he was glowering at Dr. Drend's image.

 

“I heard an unfortunate rumor that you've been recalled to active service. And since my holocall was redirected onto the Republic's spec force flagship, I have to guess it is true. I can make some calls if you'd like, pull some strings. I can have you back in the laboratory by the end of the week.” Drend's voice was warm and expecting, like it was obvious she would fall to her knees in gratitude.

 

“Oh. Uh. That's a very kind offer, Doctor. But, ah, I actually requested to be returned to active duty.” As though to illustrate her point, she fell into a relaxed parade rest.

 

“No!” Drend cried dramatically. “This can't be! Is there anything I can do, anything I can say that will make you change your mind, Ipha?”

 

Every time Drend said her name, Jorgan wanted to rip the guts out of the holo, just to shut him up. The smarmy lab rat had to be more than twice her age. And that was being kind.

 

“I'm a soldier first, Doctor. Always have been, and I always will be. Maybe when I can't contribute in the field anymore I'll go back to the labs.” Ipha kept her tone very even, very conversational. She had made the mistake of being friendly with Cobiat Drend when they had worked together on a project a year ago. He had taken her friendly interest in him as something else entirely and trying to shake him off was like trying shake a womp rat off your leg.

 

“Your brilliant mind belongs with us, Ipha. Surely you can understand the risk you're taking. If I- we were to lose you, the medical field would suffer greatly.”

 

“I think this is going to work out, Doctor. You conjure up the technology, and I'll see it tested on the field.” Ipha started to pace in front of the holo, her mind going in a different direction than what Drend certainly wished for. “In fact, I could make adjustments and fine tune on the fly. If Dorne and I put our heads together, seeing the practical applications and implications of any new medical tech you send our way, we can put your projects through their paces and get them into the hands of soldiers that really need them that much faster.” Ipha paused and smiled brilliantly at Drend and Jorgan's chest constricted. “The way I see it, this is the perfect kind of partnership.”

 

Drend eyed Ipha for a moment and Jorgan could see the wheels turning in his head. But after a moment, the good doctor smiled and nodded. “You are certainly one of a kind. And you will be missed greatly on the 'conjuring' side of things. But you will keep in touch, won't you? We can talk... medical tech and you can give me your honest opinions on the usefulness of our creations.”

 

Ipha inclined her head. “Always happy to talk shop, Doctor.”

 

“Please. Call me Cobiat. I insist.”

 

Jorgan's fist balled at his side and he consciously flexed it. The only thing keeping him from doing something gravely embarrassing was that Ipha had no apparent interest in this guy. At least, not the way he wanted.

 

Ipha looked quickly back at Jorgan and Drend turned his head. “Is there someone else here?” he asked, his voice warm over an icy core.

 

“Captain Jorgan and I were going over some tactics before you called. I didn't see a reason to kick him out. He says hello.” The corner of Ipha's mouth lifted in a near mockery of politeness but she gained control of her face in an instant.

 

“I should let you get back to it,” Drend said stiffly. “I look forward to hearing from you again, Ipha.”

 

“Take care of yourself, Doctor,” Ipha said and nodded her head. “Kodrevas out.” She severed the connection and stood for a moment staring at the spot Drend had been. Then she shivered violently as though something slimy had crawled up her spine. “Ugh. I need to go set myself on fire,” she muttered, adjusting the position of her shoulders like she was shaking something off.

 

“Want to just go drink that conversation away?' Jorgan asked, then immediately regretted it.

 

“With you?” she asked, schooling surprise off her face before he fully registered it was there.

 

Jorgan put a hand to the back of his neck. Rubbed hard. Cursed his mouth. “Well, yeah. Everyone else is busy. Or sleeping last night off still. We could go to a cantina.” Why was he still talking? A simple no, I got stuff, sorry would have sufficed.

 

“Yeah,” Ipha said brightly. “Sounds perfect. Since I can't serve Drend a nice tall glass of shut the frack up, you could be a real gentleman and soothe my frazzled nerves by buying the first round.”

 

Now he smiled. “Deal.”

 

 

Author's Note:

This may not be exactly how everyone interprets Aric. But after it was pointed out to me how jealous he was of Balkar on Nar Shaddaa I wanted to explore that side again, since I technically missed it the first time around. However, his jealousies are mostly inner monologue this time. I guess I'm cruel but I get tingly at the idea of Ipha throwing his perfect soldier facade into a tizzy just by being around. I must not be very creative because that's basically what Ellivian does to Quinn.

 

I really really REALLY love this !!! And this is pretty close to how I see Aric, so yeah, lots of fun, plus I adore Ipha!!!

(On a side note, any J.R. Ward-ish bits that end up in your stories will get a thumbs-up from me, hehe. Love the BDB!)

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

Yay more Ipha stories. I picture my Aric as being more direct and cool, but I love the way he is in this story. It does remind me of the Nar Shaddaa/Balkar quest line.

Catching up

 

Ipha Kodrevas- my fem Trooper and Aric Jorgan. This is the prompt where all the Troopers come out to play. 1400 words, mostly dialogue so it goes quick.

 

 

I like that Ipha wanted a chaperone for the holocall; set up Drend nicely.

 

And another medic! Yay! Healers can have cool stories too! Everything isn't all blasters and lightsabers.

I have been fairly busy the last week so I hadn't the chance to comment about some of the earlier entries for this week's prompt.

 

For this week, I combine the prompts! Ha ha! “Catching Up” and “Mixing it Up”:

 

Title: Sure, I Know a Guy

 

This was a lot of fun to read. Look forward to seeing where this story goes next. Even though it seemed a little rushed at the end with that twist (as someone else pointed out, that probably wouldn't happen in the restaurant), it was an intriguing change.

 

Wrote this originally for Health, but didn't post it - I'm glad I didn't, as it seems to reflect a slightly more literal 'catching up'.

 

Catching Up:

 

I always enjoy reading about the background of characters to see the influence that made them who they are. This was a great read for you characters from your earlier post.

 

Catching Up with a companion of my Human Smuggler, Teague Kilrik, speaking to my Miraluka Jedi Counselor, Zantel. Spoilers for the Smuggler Storyline follow. Implied male!Smuggler/Akaavi Spar.

 

Welcome to the Thread! Good to see Akaavi since I really haven't seen many writings including her.

 

My entry(ies) should be up shortly. Finished one (now revising) and trying to finish up the second by tonight so I can post before the new prompt.

Weekly Challenge: Catching-up

Title: Thank You

 

Sith Inquisitor Darth Apostas (Assassin)

No Spoilers

~1400 Words

 

 

 

Weekly Challenge: Catching-up

Title: Thank You

 

Sith Inquisitor Darth Apostas (Assassin)

No Spoilers

~1400 Words

 

 

Darth Apostas sat quietly in the darkened room. Her posture erect, her legs crossed under her flowing black robe. She clasped her hands in her lap, one atop the other, resting peacefully on the elongated hilt of her saberstaff. Under the shadowy hood her shrouded face was expressionless as her cold, unblinking eyes stared straight ahead. Her narrowed vision focused on the sealed door, unwavering.

 

She felt the airlock door open, and the familiar dark aura of her quarry permeated throughout the Fury-class ship. Reaching out with the Force, she could easily hear the footsteps that trekked across the ship’s floor. Darth Apostas registered every step taken in the ship, knowing full well where her target walked all the while concealing herself in the naked darkness of her current room.

 

Soon the footsteps neared the private room in which Darth Apostas waited. The nonchalant movements by which the owner walked through the ship told Darth Apostas she was still hidden.

 

But not for long.

 

The footsteps stopped at the door to the cabin.

 

Here we go.

 

The door hissed open and in walked a slender, dark figure. The light from the ship’s corridor’s veiled the facial figures of the robed sith, but Darth Apostas knew without a doubt this was who she was looking for. There was no mistaken the dark side passions given off by this pureblood.

 

When Darth Apostas immediately recognized the figure, she released her concentration, dropping the Force shrouding her presence. Instantly, the other sith pulled back her hood and brandished her lightsaber. The bright crimson blade ignited in the blackness, a singular and eerie source of light against the bleak darkness.

 

“I know you’re in here,” the armed woman called out.

 

“You know I’m here because I allowed you to know.”

 

Darth Apostas waved her left hand, throwing a flicker of the Force into the cabin’s lights. The dim light slowly washed away some of the engulfing darkness, but statues and artifacts that aligned the room drew various strange shadows across the walls of the compartment.

 

Perfect, thought Darth Apostas.

 

Uncrossing her legs, Darth Apostas slowly stood up, gripping her saberstaff in one hand. She raised her head and with her free hand pulled back her dark hood. Long, bold red hair flowed out from behind her hood. Her young features were painted beautifully on her slightly paled skin. Her thin lips curled into a small smile while her yellow eyes beamed directly at the sith pureblood standing across from her.

 

“Greetings, Darth Strenua,” spoke Darth Apostas.

 

The sith pureblood slowly raised her head at the unexpected intruder. Darth Apostas saw her more clearly now. Her narrow head and sharp facial features were instantly recognizable, with two pairs of boney figures jutting out from her lower jaw and near her temples. Her hair was a light red, short and groomed to her self-suited style as a sith. Her fierce, yellow eyes returned Darth Apostas’ solemn gaze.

 

“Darth Apostas,” the sith replied. “My lord,” she said with a slight nod of her head without taking her eyes off the intruder. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

“Oh, I assure you, Darth Strenua, in this little meeting the pleasure is all mine.” Darth Apostas began her small walk from the chair across the cabin floor, keeping her distance from the sith. Darth Strenua began her stroll as well, keeping both her distance and her ignited lightsaber at ready.

 

“In fact,” continued Darth Apostas, “I came here to thank you.” She stopped walk and turned to face the red-skinned sith.

 

Mirroring the Darth Lord, Darth Strenua halted and turned as well. “For?”

 

Darth Apostas gave the briefest of smiles before responding. “You see, it was you all those years ago who started me on this grand journey,” she explained with an upturned palm. “You who saw the raw power that was still locked away within me. You who set me on this course to unlock my full potential and reach the position I have now.”

 

“You honor me, my L-” Darth Strenua began.

 

“I am not yet finished,” Darth Apostas interrupted. Any pretenses of formality had vanished in that instant. The slowly building unease between the two women exploded in a final looming disquiet. The tension in the room seemed to gather more strength the longer they stared each other down, and became so palpable one could just have easily cut with her lightsaber.

 

“It was also you who tore me from the body of my mother with her hands still warm. It was you who subjected me to the trials of the Korriban Academy when you should have killed me and ended my suffering. You who prolonged my agony as I came to learn the truth of all that I am. And now I am here to put that agony to rest.”

 

The threat lingered heavily in the air. Darth Apostas’ fist wrapped tighter around the saberstaff in her hand. Her even breathing turned deeper as her rage at the sith woman before her began mounting. She felt the sith’s similar draw upon her passions and the Dark Side of the Force, building towards the eventual confrontation both knew was imminent.

 

Without warning, Darth Strenua roared in fury and charged the defenseless assassin. But Darth Apostas was ready.

 

In the blink of an eye, Darth Apostas had her free hand raised at the oncoming attacker, and with the pulse of her hand the lunge had ended just as it had begun. The quick jolt of Force Lightning stopped Darth Strenua in her tracks as her body seized from the crackles of the deadly power.

 

When the jolt ended, Darth Strenua fell to her knees. Recovering quickly, she quickly looked up at her target to lunge again. She was not given the chance.

 

Darth Apostas stretched out her open hand and immediately unleashed more Force Lightning on the prone sith. As waves of the deadly electricity cascaded over the sith’s body, she began to cry out as the heated energy began to sizzle her skin and boil her armor. As the kneeled sith tried in vain to fight against the unrelenting torrent of lightning, Darth Apostas narrowed her vision and brought all her fury into the stream of voltage.

 

It became too much for the weakened Darth. She suddenly she flopped backwards, and the might of the Force Lightning lifted her back and threw he against the fuselage of the ship. Her lightsaber flew from her hand, the red blade disappearing into the deactivated hilt.

 

Darth Apostas relented to see the smoke rise from the tortured body. Darth Strenua crumbled against the cabin’s wall, her breathing irregular as she fought against the searing pain.

 

Darth Apostas casually approached the sith cowering against the wall, her yellow eyes locked on the broken body on the ground.

 

“Mercy, my Lord,” begged Darth Strenua when she saw the Darth walking towards her. “You said so yourself. Without me, you would not have become so powerful. Please, let me help you so you can become even more powerful! Please…”

 

“Mercy?” Darth Apostas asked as she towered over the sith pureblood. She lowered herself to a knee in front of Darth Strenua. “No. Pay heed to the Sith Code that you cherish so much. You have outlived your usefulness.” Her unflinching gaze remained on the sith as she spoke the next word. “Khem?”

 

Suddenly the hulking Dashade materialized from the shadows of the room. He unsheathed his large vibrosword as his thunderous footsteps marched towards the pair of women.

 

Darth Apostas watched as the sith’s eyes went wide with terror. Her dark pupils dilated at the sudden emergence of the huge creature. Darth Apostas managed a slight smile at the sheer terror that had embraced Darth Strenua.

 

“Yes, little Sith,” the creature growled when it stood before them.

 

Staring directly into the frozen face of the sith, Darth Apostas commanded, “She’s all yours.”

 

Darth Strenua turned back to the woman in front of her. “Please, my Lord! Please! No!”

 

Darth Apostas stood silently and walked towards the door of the cabin, ignoring the final prayers of the pureblood. She closed the door behind her and walked to the airlock as the pleas continued to sound out and fall on deaf ears. As she reached the exit to the ship, the pleas had to turned to blood-chilling screams. And suddenly they were silent.

 

The ship turned deathly quiet. Without looking back, Darth Apostas opened the door and left.

 

Very dramatic, nice build up. I like the appearance of Khem at the end especially.

Weekly Challenge: Catching-up

Title: Thank You

 

Sith Inquisitor Darth Apostas (Assassin)

No Spoilers

~1400 Words

 

 

Darth Apostas sat quietly in the darkened room. Her posture erect, her legs crossed under her flowing black robe. She clasped her hands in her lap, one atop the other, resting peacefully on the elongated hilt of her saberstaff. Under the shadowy hood her shrouded face was expressionless as her cold, unblinking eyes stared straight ahead. Her narrowed vision focused on the sealed door, unwavering.

 

She felt the airlock door open, and the familiar dark aura of her quarry permeated throughout the Fury-class ship. Reaching out with the Force, she could easily hear the footsteps that trekked across the ship’s floor. Darth Apostas registered every step taken in the ship, knowing full well where her target walked all the while concealing herself in the naked darkness of her current room.

 

Soon the footsteps neared the private room in which Darth Apostas waited. The nonchalant movements by which the owner walked through the ship told Darth Apostas she was still hidden.

 

But not for long.

 

The footsteps stopped at the door to the cabin.

 

Here we go.

 

The door hissed open and in walked a slender, dark figure. The light from the ship’s corridor’s veiled the facial figures of the robed sith, but Darth Apostas knew without a doubt this was who she was looking for. There was no mistaken the dark side passions given off by this pureblood.

 

When Darth Apostas immediately recognized the figure, she released her concentration, dropping the Force shrouding her presence. Instantly, the other sith pulled back her hood and brandished her lightsaber. The bright crimson blade ignited in the blackness, a singular and eerie source of light against the bleak darkness.

 

“I know you’re in here,” the armed woman called out.

 

“You know I’m here because I allowed you to know.”

 

Darth Apostas waved her left hand, throwing a flicker of the Force into the cabin’s lights. The dim light slowly washed away some of the engulfing darkness, but statues and artifacts that aligned the room drew various strange shadows across the walls of the compartment.

 

Perfect, thought Darth Apostas.

 

Uncrossing her legs, Darth Apostas slowly stood up, gripping her saberstaff in one hand. She raised her head and with her free hand pulled back her dark hood. Long, bold red hair flowed out from behind her hood. Her young features were painted beautifully on her slightly paled skin. Her thin lips curled into a small smile while her yellow eyes beamed directly at the sith pureblood standing across from her.

 

“Greetings, Darth Strenua,” spoke Darth Apostas.

 

The sith pureblood slowly raised her head at the unexpected intruder. Darth Apostas saw her more clearly now. Her narrow head and sharp facial features were instantly recognizable, with two pairs of boney figures jutting out from her lower jaw and near her temples. Her hair was a light red, short and groomed to her self-suited style as a sith. Her fierce, yellow eyes returned Darth Apostas’ solemn gaze.

 

“Darth Apostas,” the sith replied. “My lord,” she said with a slight nod of her head without taking her eyes off the intruder. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

“Oh, I assure you, Darth Strenua, in this little meeting the pleasure is all mine.” Darth Apostas began her small walk from the chair across the cabin floor, keeping her distance from the sith. Darth Strenua began her stroll as well, keeping both her distance and her ignited lightsaber at ready.

 

“In fact,” continued Darth Apostas, “I came here to thank you.” She stopped walk and turned to face the red-skinned sith.

 

Mirroring the Darth Lord, Darth Strenua halted and turned as well. “For?”

 

Darth Apostas gave the briefest of smiles before responding. “You see, it was you all those years ago who started me on this grand journey,” she explained with an upturned palm. “You who saw the raw power that was still locked away within me. You who set me on this course to unlock my full potential and reach the position I have now.”

 

“You honor me, my L-” Darth Strenua began.

 

“I am not yet finished,” Darth Apostas interrupted. Any pretenses of formality had vanished in that instant. The slowly building unease between the two women exploded in a final looming disquiet. The tension in the room seemed to gather more strength the longer they stared each other down, and became so palpable one could just have easily cut with her lightsaber.

 

“It was also you who tore me from the body of my mother with her hands still warm. It was you who subjected me to the trials of the Korriban Academy when you should have killed me and ended my suffering. You who prolonged my agony as I came to learn the truth of all that I am. And now I am here to put that agony to rest.”

 

The threat lingered heavily in the air. Darth Apostas’ fist wrapped tighter around the saberstaff in her hand. Her even breathing turned deeper as her rage at the sith woman before her began mounting. She felt the sith’s similar draw upon her passions and the Dark Side of the Force, building towards the eventual confrontation both knew was imminent.

 

Without warning, Darth Strenua roared in fury and charged the defenseless assassin. But Darth Apostas was ready.

 

In the blink of an eye, Darth Apostas had her free hand raised at the oncoming attacker, and with the pulse of her hand the lunge had ended just as it had begun. The quick jolt of Force Lightning stopped Darth Strenua in her tracks as her body seized from the crackles of the deadly power.

 

When the jolt ended, Darth Strenua fell to her knees. Recovering quickly, she quickly looked up at her target to lunge again. She was not given the chance.

 

Darth Apostas stretched out her open hand and immediately unleashed more Force Lightning on the prone sith. As waves of the deadly electricity cascaded over the sith’s body, she began to cry out as the heated energy began to sizzle her skin and boil her armor. As the kneeled sith tried in vain to fight against the unrelenting torrent of lightning, Darth Apostas narrowed her vision and brought all her fury into the stream of voltage.

 

It became too much for the weakened Darth. She suddenly she flopped backwards, and the might of the Force Lightning lifted her back and threw he against the fuselage of the ship. Her lightsaber flew from her hand, the red blade disappearing into the deactivated hilt.

 

Darth Apostas relented to see the smoke rise from the tortured body. Darth Strenua crumbled against the cabin’s wall, her breathing irregular as she fought against the searing pain.

 

Darth Apostas casually approached the sith cowering against the wall, her yellow eyes locked on the broken body on the ground.

 

“Mercy, my Lord,” begged Darth Strenua when she saw the Darth walking towards her. “You said so yourself. Without me, you would not have become so powerful. Please, let me help you so you can become even more powerful! Please…”

 

“Mercy?” Darth Apostas asked as she towered over the sith pureblood. She lowered herself to a knee in front of Darth Strenua. “No. Pay heed to the Sith Code that you cherish so much. You have outlived your usefulness.” Her unflinching gaze remained on the sith as she spoke the next word. “Khem?”

 

Suddenly the hulking Dashade materialized from the shadows of the room. He unsheathed his large vibrosword as his thunderous footsteps marched towards the pair of women.

 

Darth Apostas watched as the sith’s eyes went wide with terror. Her dark pupils dilated at the sudden emergence of the huge creature. Darth Apostas managed a slight smile at the sheer terror that had embraced Darth Strenua.

 

“Yes, little Sith,” the creature growled when it stood before them.

 

Staring directly into the frozen face of the sith, Darth Apostas commanded, “She’s all yours.”

 

Darth Strenua turned back to the woman in front of her. “Please, my Lord! Please! No!”

 

Darth Apostas stood silently and walked towards the door of the cabin, ignoring the final prayers of the pureblood. She closed the door behind her and walked to the airlock as the pleas continued to sound out and fall on deaf ears. As she reached the exit to the ship, the pleas had to turned to blood-chilling screams. And suddenly they were silent.

 

The ship turned deathly quiet. Without looking back, Darth Apostas opened the door and left.

 

This was very interesting to read. I'd imagine that the Sith Inquisitor might have wanted revenge on those who enslaved her/him. Thanks for writing this.

Sorry it's late this week - today has been kinda crazy. Sooo many tours of my dorm...

 

Week of 7/20/12

 

Exploration - You could travel your whole life and not see all of Earth - so what about people who have an entire galaxy to explore? What new things have your characters uncovered along their journeys? Thank you bright_ephemera for this prompt.

 

Dreams and Nightmares - Sometimes these are literal - a horrible nightmare or a pleasant dream that you don't want to wake up from. Sometimes it's a metaphor - your desires for the future or your greatest fear. Either way, they're a part of everyone's lives. Thank you Striges for this prompt!

Did I suggest Exploration for the sole purpose of typing up this image in my head? Why, yes, I did!

 

1200 words. Sith Warrior Ruth. KOTOR spoilers that you'll get from playing through Republic Taris. No Warrior plot spoilers.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

Well, if I got lost anyway, maybe we could have red and, um, darker red, and darker darker red nav lights. That way we wouldn't ruin the Imperial theme."

 

 

hahaha, imperial aesthetics

Dreams and Nightmares

 

Nosc in the Works

SW spoilerish for the incident.

 

 

 

 

Authors Note:

 

 

Edited July 22, 2012 by kabeone

Dreams and Nightmares

 

Nosc in the Works

SW spoilerish for the incident.

 

 

 

 

Nosc pressed the elevator switch several times. The doors had closed but there was no movement. She frowned and checked her datapad. They were coming down after retrieving one of those glowing boxes with ancient secrets. She was planning to sell it.

 

Suddenly the lift started shaking, she heard a noise as if something snapped, and they were in a free-fall.

 

“Brace yourself,” she yelled to her companion though he was only a foot away from her.

 

“Aaarroooooaawwwaaaahhh.” He yelled back.

 

The elevator landed with jarring impact, the doors broke open, Nosc and Bowdaar stumbled out. She looked around getting her bearings, mad droids pummeled each other and steam vented from pipes.

 

“Bowdaar, I don’t think we’re on the main level of Coruscant anymore.” Nosc said slowly.

 

“OMG, that was my kill.” Someone yelled from behind her.

 

Nosc turned around, a Mirialan wearing dark hooded robes stood behind her. She wielded a doublesided lightsaber and had been stealthed until now. She was looking at a body partially hidden by the broken elevator. A purple beam of light radiated from the corpse.

 

“Right on, loot!” Nosc exclaimed. She checked the corpse, extremely high quality modifiable boots.

 

The Mirialan spit on her.

 

“Whoa what, hey, this wasn’t my fault, for one thing I accidentally fell in that elevator, and for another I didn’t even see you.” Nosc protested.

 

“Yeah right, you must play wow.” She said inexplicably and disappeared.

 

Nosc sighed and shrugged at her companion. A small man came forward, he was an Ugnaught, he squealed to get her attention.

 

“That one is strange,” he squeaked, “she’s been here all day she destroys everything, farming for boots she says.”

 

“I see,” Nosc said feeling smug, “Where am I anyway? I feel like I’ve been here before.”

 

“You are in the Works.” He replied, “The Ugnaughts were sent here as part of our collaboration with the Gree, we maintain the repairs you made here.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Hib-R-ak is not a very good administrator unit; don’t tell him we said so.”

 

“How do I get out? The elevator is broken.”

 

The Ugnaught snorted unhappily. “Only one can fix the elevator, but he’s crazy. He runs this place now he calls it the Works of Ozurist.”

 

“I remember him,” she replied, “he was crazy. Where can I find him?”

 

“Playing with Thermoblast.”

 

“Of course,” Nosc sighed. She pulled out her comm to call Risha.

 

“Hurry up, I’m watching the ‘The Smuggler and the Prince of the Dead Planet.’” Risha answered.

 

“Risha, I’m stuck in the Works, how do I get to Thermoblast again?”

 

“Here I’ll send you a map.”

 

“This map is gibberish; it loops back on itself.”

 

“Do you always need a yellow marker to tell you where you need to go?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fine genius, just follow the yellow line.”

 

“Oh hey, I found some boots, should I save them to sell?”

 

“Let me see, oh no way girl, those are adaptive and modable, I’ve never seen red ones like that. Wear them. I have to go my shows back on.”

 

Nosc followed the yellow line on the map, she passed raging droids but they barely paid any attention to her, she was concentrating so hard, she almost did not hear when someone called her name.

 

“Uhh, Captain?” A familiar voice called.

 

Nosc looked up to see Corso hanging from a pipe. “What are you doing up there?”

 

“Well you know how I switched to a rocket pack right? I was practicing and, umm,” he looked embarrassed. “I kinda got stuck.”

 

“I don’t even understand why you switched.” Nosc said pulling out her blaster.

 

“Hey wait, don’t kill me!” Her first mate said shielding his face.

 

Nosc shot the pipe a few times, the broken piece that had been hanging onto Corso tore off and he fell to the ground.

 

“Thanks Captain,” he said still a little red-faced. “What are you doing down here?”

 

“Elevators broken, we’re going to find Ozurist to go fix it. You should come with us.”

 

“Anything you need, Captain.”

 

Nosc rolled her eyes and continued looking at the map. She realized she had made a wrong turn when she ran into some Imperials. “I think we went too far.” Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something she found very interesting. A very attractive man wearing a grey and black uniform was shackled to a pipe. “Hey handsome,” Nosc said smiling, “Need a hand?”

 

“What?” The man said looking down his nose at her. Then he looked back up at his cuffs and changed his mind. “Why yes, that would be very kind of you, madam.”

 

“I don’t know boss,” Corso said frowning at the way Nosc looked. “He looks Imperial to me.”

 

“Who cares, he’s gorgeous.” Nosc said drawing her blaster again.

 

The man looked terrified, “Wait, wait! There’s a droid repair kit over there, if you just use some of the oil I could slip my hands out of these cuffs.”

 

“Oh fine, we’ll do it the boring way,” Nosc grabbed the oilcan and dripped some over his hands. “You’re cute when you’re terrified you know that?”

 

The man yanked his hands out of the cuffs, he quickly used hand sanitizer to clean off the oil, “What, oh um why thank, uh I’ll be going now.”

 

“Elevator’s broken.” Nosc said eyeing him as he walked away, the view from there was good too. He stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to find the repair guy, come with.”

 

“Boss, I don’t trust this guy, he’s Imperial.” Corso said crossing his arms.

 

Realizing he was stuck in the Works until the elevator was repaired and outnumbered by the Captain and her crew the Imperial officer knelt before Nosc.

 

“Captain Malavai Quinn, at your service, my lady. I am an Imperial, but I pledge my service to you until we can leave this place.”

 

“Hmm,” Nosc said purring, “While you’re down there…”

 

“Umm,” Quinn said panicking, “I’m actually in a relationship right now.”

 

“That’s ok.” She said still smiling.

 

“I’m not, umm not intere…”

 

“Oh, hey boss,” Corso said his face clearing, he whispered loudly, “I don’t think he likes women.”

 

“Wait, what?” Quinn said protesting.

 

“It’s ok, we’re all open minded here,” Nosc grinned, “Come on, let’s go.” The group continued forward.

 

They backtracked to the droid area; Nosc realized there was a side entrance she had missed the first time through, a pile of debris shook as they neared.

 

“Captain?” The voice under the pile rasped.

 

“Gus? Why are you hiding?”

 

“Umm, you sent me on a mission to get some metals and I got lost. So I thought I’d just wait, you know when you’re lost you’re not supposed to move. You’re supposed to wait until someone finds you.”

 

“Gus, no one was looking for you, and you're not supposed to hide when you want to be found, you could have been here forever.”

 

“Well, you found me didn’t you?”

 

“Can we get moving again?” Quinn said sounding annoyed.

 

“Who’s the stiff?” Gus asked looking over Quinn’s impeccable uniform.

 

“Captain Quinn this is Gus Tuno.”

 

“Hey! She’s a Captain too, you guys could discuss all kinds of Captain things together.”

 

“Right,” Quinn said sourly, “of course.”

 

“Look Captain, it’s the Thermoblast room!” Corso said running ahead. He forgot about the fire that periodically came up through the floors, he danced away only to stand on another fiery spot. He repeated this until he found himself running in a circle.

 

“Not the brightest, is he?” Quinn said tilting his head.

 

The group watched Corso run in circles failing to realize he should simply come back outside.

 

“I believe I have a solution,” Quinn said when he tired of watching. “You will need to shut down all four switches that vent the thermal generator. Then we will be able to make our way to Ozurist.”

 

The group headed to the first switch they heard the first vent close. They continued to the second switch but as the vent closed, they heard the first vent reopening. They turned to see the Mirialan flipping the switch to reopen the vent.

 

“Hah,” she yelled at them. “That’s for stealing my boots!” Then she disappeared.

 

“Aww, man,” Corso said, “She’s a griefer.”

 

Nosc frowned as she flipped a switch and moved on, each time she had two or three switches the Mirialan would appear and mess things up. “That’s it,” she said angrily, “there’s only one way to fight a griefer.” She turned to Gus, “Gus, go pull those Cthon on to her the next time she shows up.”

 

“Captain,” Gus said timidly, “I don’t want to die.”

 

“Gus,” Nosc said with exasperation, “We out-leveled this area a long time ago, they can’t even hit you.”

 

“Really?” He asked. She nodded. Trusting his captain, he walked over to a Cthon and slapped it. The slap killed it instantly. “Whhheeeeeeeeee.” He said dancing in place, “I’m powerful!”

 

“Right, now train them on her when she shows up.”

 

“You got it!” he said happily taunting the Cthon, they chased him but could not do any damage.

 

Nosc flipped the third switch, the Mirialan showed up and Gus brought all the Cthon over. Finally seeing a target they could attack the Cthon began pummeling the Mirialan.

 

“Ahh,” she yelled, “I’m reporting you for this!”

 

Nosc flipped the final switch and they all ran up to the control center where Ozurist waited.

 

“Hey, crazy, go fix the elevator.” Nosc said putting her hands on her hips.

 

“Thermoblast is angry, he must be appeased before I can repair anything.” The Twilek quavered.

 

Nosc sighed, she looked out over the Thermal generator. “What’s wrong with him now?”

 

“The fires no longer feed into the pipes, all of Coruscant will freeze.”

 

“Hey boss,” Corso said looking at the control panel and the layout of the Thermal generator. “I think if we reconfigure the auxiliary conduit to vent over to the main cathode, we can safely boost heat generation into three of the four pipes. ” He tapped out the commands as he spoke, soon the generator hummed powerfully.

 

The group stared at him. He shrugged grinning, “I don’t know why but the generator is almost the exact configuration as the inside of a B-206 Fusion Disruptor. It was the blaster I had right before I got Torchy, I called her Spitfire.”

 

“You have saved Thermoblast again,” Ozurist said bowing, “I will now fix the elevator.” The group turned to leave.

 

“Hey,” Nosc said looking around, “Where’s Quinn?”

 

“Right here, Republic scum!” He said standing on a platform, the flames of Thermoblast lighting him dramatically. “While you were toying with the generator, I was reprogramming all of the droids in the Works. I will now commence in killing you and leave this terrible place.”

 

The droids surrounded Nosc and the crew, there were at least fifty of them, they moved menacingly. Quinn tapped out the command, and they opened fire. The bolts splashed harmlessly on Nosc and her crew.

 

“Um, we out level the droids too, Quinn.” Nosc said smiling despite herself. He was so cute.

 

“Oh,” Quinn said writing a note to himself. Stop using droids for assassinations.

 

The Ugnaughts entered the room, “He reprogrammed the droids to stop fighting!” one of them squealed. The Ugnaughts converged on a terrified looking Quinn. “He will be our new leader!” They all cheered and carried him off.

 

Nosc was not sure what he said as they carried him away, she thought it was something like, “I could have planned that better.” She turned back to Ozurist but hey lay on the ground dead. Apparently, he did not out level the droids that fired on them.

 

“Now how are we going to get out of here?” Nosc said throwing up her hands. Her comm beeped.

 

“Hey girl,” Risha said. “My show’s on commercial, I checked out those boots you found, they’re rocket boots. You could probably jump out the elevator shaft if you wanted. Ok gotta go.”

 

“Now she tells me,” Nosc muttered. They walked back to the elevator shaft each using the boots then throwing them back down so the next person could get out. Nosc was the last one up, the weight and usage had worn the boots out and just as she reached the main level, they lost power and she fell. She landed hard hitting her head. Everything went black.

 

***

 

“Boss? Boss?” Corso said.

 

Nosc opened her eyes, Corso, Gus, and Bowdaar leaned over her.

 

“What happened?” She looked around; they were on the main level of Coruscant again.

 

“Elevator dropped a bit and you hit your head. You were out cold for a minute.”

 

“I had the weirdest dream,” she said rubbing her head. “You guys were all there, and also that cute Officer we saw in that Cantina on Balmorra.”

 

“That guy?” Corso said frowning, “Umm, I don’t think he liked women.”

 

 

 

 

Authors Note:

 

 

I'M SO SORRY.

 

 

I'm dying over here, that was hilarious!! I love how Bowdaar was Toto!

Dreams and Nightmares

 

Nosc in the Works

SW spoilerish for the incident.

 

Every. Detail. Perfect. Scarecrow hung up on a fence? Oil required to free the Tin Man? Not to mention that the crazy guy in the works was actually named Ozurist? And then the WoW/MMO mechanics in general, and, and, everything. I nearly died laughing.

 

 

“Oh,” Quinn said writing a note to himself. Stop using droids for assassinations.

 

 

Love. Love love, love love love, also love and love. Love.

 

For that matter, I really am fond of

“I could have planned that better."

as an elegant summation of the character.

Dreams and Nightmares

 

Nosc in the Works

SW spoilerish for the incident.

 

 

 

 

Nosc pressed the elevator switch several times. The doors had closed but there was no movement. She frowned and checked her datapad. They were coming down after retrieving one of those glowing boxes with ancient secrets. She was planning to sell it.

 

Suddenly the lift started shaking, she heard a noise as if something snapped, and they were in a free-fall.

 

“Brace yourself,” she yelled to her companion though he was only a foot away from her.

 

“Aaarroooooaawwwaaaahhh.” He yelled back.

 

The elevator landed with jarring impact, the doors broke open, Nosc and Bowdaar stumbled out. She looked around getting her bearings, mad droids pummeled each other and steam vented from pipes.

 

“Bowdaar, I don’t think we’re on the main level of Coruscant anymore.” Nosc said slowly.

 

“OMG, that was my kill.” Someone yelled from behind her.

 

Nosc turned around, a Mirialan wearing dark hooded robes stood behind her. She wielded a doublesided lightsaber and had been stealthed until now. She was looking at a body partially hidden by the broken elevator. A purple beam of light radiated from the corpse.

 

“Right on, loot!” Nosc exclaimed. She checked the corpse, extremely high quality modifiable boots.

 

The Mirialan spit on her.

 

“Whoa what, hey, this wasn’t my fault, for one thing I accidentally fell in that elevator, and for another I didn’t even see you.” Nosc protested.

 

“Yeah right, you must play wow.” She said inexplicably and disappeared.

 

Nosc sighed and shrugged at her companion. A small man came forward, he was an Ugnaught, he squealed to get her attention.

 

“That one is strange,” he squeaked, “she’s been here all day she destroys everything, farming for boots she says.”

 

“I see,” Nosc said feeling smug, “Where am I anyway? I feel like I’ve been here before.”

 

“You are in the Works.” He replied, “The Ugnaughts were sent here as part of our collaboration with the Gree, we maintain the repairs you made here.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Hib-R-ak is not a very good administrator unit; don’t tell him we said so.”

 

“How do I get out? The elevator is broken.”

 

The Ugnaught snorted unhappily. “Only one can fix the elevator, but he’s crazy. He runs this place now he calls it the Works of Ozurist.”

 

“I remember him,” she replied, “he was crazy. Where can I find him?”

 

“Playing with Thermoblast.”

 

“Of course,” Nosc sighed. She pulled out her comm to call Risha.

 

“Hurry up, I’m watching the ‘The Smuggler and the Prince of the Dead Planet.’” Risha answered.

 

“Risha, I’m stuck in the Works, how do I get to Thermoblast again?”

 

“Here I’ll send you a map.”

 

“This map is gibberish; it loops back on itself.”

 

“Do you always need a yellow marker to tell you where you need to go?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Fine genius, just follow the yellow line.”

 

“Oh hey, I found some boots, should I save them to sell?”

 

“Let me see, oh no way girl, those are adaptive and modable, I’ve never seen red ones like that. Wear them. I have to go my shows back on.”

 

Nosc followed the yellow line on the map, she passed raging droids but they barely paid any attention to her, she was concentrating so hard, she almost did not hear when someone called her name.

 

“Uhh, Captain?” A familiar voice called.

 

Nosc looked up to see Corso hanging from a pipe. “What are you doing up there?”

 

“Well you know how I switched to a rocket pack right? I was practicing and, umm,” he looked embarrassed. “I kinda got stuck.”

 

“I don’t even understand why you switched.” Nosc said pulling out her blaster.

 

“Hey wait, don’t kill me!” Her first mate said shielding his face.

 

Nosc shot the pipe a few times, the broken piece that had been hanging onto Corso tore off and he fell to the ground.

 

“Thanks Captain,” he said still a little red-faced. “What are you doing down here?”

 

“Elevators broken, we’re going to find Ozurist to go fix it. You should come with us.”

 

“Anything you need, Captain.”

 

Nosc rolled her eyes and continued looking at the map. She realized she had made a wrong turn when she ran into some Imperials. “I think we went too far.” Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something she found very interesting. A very attractive man wearing a grey and black uniform was shackled to a pipe. “Hey handsome,” Nosc said smiling, “Need a hand?”

 

“What?” The man said looking down his nose at her. Then he looked back up at his cuffs and changed his mind. “Why yes, that would be very kind of you, madam.”

 

“I don’t know boss,” Corso said frowning at the way Nosc looked. “He looks Imperial to me.”

 

“Who cares, he’s gorgeous.” Nosc said drawing her blaster again.

 

The man looked terrified, “Wait, wait! There’s a droid repair kit over there, if you just use some of the oil I could slip my hands out of these cuffs.”

 

“Oh fine, we’ll do it the boring way,” Nosc grabbed the oilcan and dripped some over his hands. “You’re cute when you’re terrified you know that?”

 

The man yanked his hands out of the cuffs, he quickly used hand sanitizer to clean off the oil, “What, oh um why thank, uh I’ll be going now.”

 

“Elevator’s broken.” Nosc said eyeing him as he walked away, the view from there was good too. He stopped and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We’re going to find the repair guy, come with.”

 

“Boss, I don’t trust this guy, he’s Imperial.” Corso said crossing his arms.

 

Realizing he was stuck in the Works until the elevator was repaired and outnumbered by the Captain and her crew the Imperial officer knelt before Nosc.

 

“Captain Malavai Quinn, at your service, my lady. I am an Imperial, but I pledge my service to you until we can leave this place.”

 

“Hmm,” Nosc said purring, “While you’re down there…”

 

“Umm,” Quinn said panicking, “I’m actually in a relationship right now.”

 

“That’s ok.” She said still smiling.

 

“I’m not, umm not intere…”

 

“Oh, hey boss,” Corso said his face clearing, he whispered loudly, “I don’t think he likes women.”

 

“Wait, what?” Quinn said protesting.

 

“It’s ok, we’re all open minded here,” Nosc grinned, “Come on, let’s go.” The group continued forward.

 

They backtracked to the droid area; Nosc realized there was a side entrance she had missed the first time through, a pile of debris shook as they neared.

 

“Captain?” The voice under the pile rasped.

 

“Gus? Why are you hiding?”

 

“Umm, you sent me on a mission to get some metals and I got lost. So I thought I’d just wait, you know when you’re lost you’re not supposed to move. You’re supposed to wait until someone finds you.”

 

“Gus, no one was looking for you, and you're not supposed to hide when you want to be found, you could have been here forever.”

 

“Well, you found me didn’t you?”

 

“Can we get moving again?” Quinn said sounding annoyed.

 

“Who’s the stiff?” Gus asked looking over Quinn’s impeccable uniform.

 

“Captain Quinn this is Gus Tuno.”

 

“Hey! She’s a Captain too, you guys could discuss all kinds of Captain things together.”

 

“Right,” Quinn said sourly, “of course.”

 

“Look Captain, it’s the Thermoblast room!” Corso said running ahead. He forgot about the fire that periodically came up through the floors, he danced away only to stand on another fiery spot. He repeated this until he found himself running in a circle.

 

“Not the brightest, is he?” Quinn said tilting his head.

 

The group watched Corso run in circles failing to realize he should simply come back outside.

 

“I believe I have a solution,” Quinn said when he tired of watching. “You will need to shut down all four switches that vent the thermal generator. Then we will be able to make our way to Ozurist.”

 

The group headed to the first switch they heard the first vent close. They continued to the second switch but as the vent closed, they heard the first vent reopening. They turned to see the Mirialan flipping the switch to reopen the vent.

 

“Hah,” she yelled at them. “That’s for stealing my boots!” Then she disappeared.

 

“Aww, man,” Corso said, “She’s a griefer.”

 

Nosc frowned as she flipped a switch and moved on, each time she had two or three switches the Mirialan would appear and mess things up. “That’s it,” she said angrily, “there’s only one way to fight a griefer.” She turned to Gus, “Gus, go pull those Cthon on to her the next time she shows up.”

 

“Captain,” Gus said timidly, “I don’t want to die.”

 

“Gus,” Nosc said with exasperation, “We out-leveled this area a long time ago, they can’t even hit you.”

 

“Really?” He asked. She nodded. Trusting his captain, he walked over to a Cthon and slapped it. The slap killed it instantly. “Whhheeeeeeeeee.” He said dancing in place, “I’m powerful!”

 

“Right, now train them on her when she shows up.”

 

“You got it!” he said happily taunting the Cthon, they chased him but could not do any damage.

 

Nosc flipped the third switch, the Mirialan showed up and Gus brought all the Cthon over. Finally seeing a target they could attack the Cthon began pummeling the Mirialan.

 

“Ahh,” she yelled, “I’m reporting you for this!”

 

Nosc flipped the final switch and they all ran up to the control center where Ozurist waited.

 

“Hey, crazy, go fix the elevator.” Nosc said putting her hands on her hips.

 

“Thermoblast is angry, he must be appeased before I can repair anything.” The Twilek quavered.

 

Nosc sighed, she looked out over the Thermal generator. “What’s wrong with him now?”

 

“The fires no longer feed into the pipes, all of Coruscant will freeze.”

 

“Hey boss,” Corso said looking at the control panel and the layout of the Thermal generator. “I think if we reconfigure the auxiliary conduit to vent over to the main cathode, we can safely boost heat generation into three of the four pipes. ” He tapped out the commands as he spoke, soon the generator hummed powerfully.

 

The group stared at him. He shrugged grinning, “I don’t know why but the generator is almost the exact configuration as the inside of a B-206 Fusion Disruptor. It was the blaster I had right before I got Torchy, I called her Spitfire.”

 

“You have saved Thermoblast again,” Ozurist said bowing, “I will now fix the elevator.” The group turned to leave.

 

“Hey,” Nosc said looking around, “Where’s Quinn?”

 

“Right here, Republic scum!” He said standing on a platform, the flames of Thermoblast lighting him dramatically. “While you were toying with the generator, I was reprogramming all of the droids in the Works. I will now commence in killing you and leave this terrible place.”

 

The droids surrounded Nosc and the crew, there were at least fifty of them, they moved menacingly. Quinn tapped out the command, and they opened fire. The bolts splashed harmlessly on Nosc and her crew.

 

“Um, we out level the droids too, Quinn.” Nosc said smiling despite herself. He was so cute.

 

“Oh,” Quinn said writing a note to himself. Stop using droids for assassinations.

 

The Ugnaughts entered the room, “He reprogrammed the droids to stop fighting!” one of them squealed. The Ugnaughts converged on a terrified looking Quinn. “He will be our new leader!” They all cheered and carried him off.

 

Nosc was not sure what he said as they carried him away, she thought it was something like, “I could have planned that better.” She turned back to Ozurist but hey lay on the ground dead. Apparently, he did not out level the droids that fired on them.

 

“Now how are we going to get out of here?” Nosc said throwing up her hands. Her comm beeped.

 

“Hey girl,” Risha said. “My show’s on commercial, I checked out those boots you found, they’re rocket boots. You could probably jump out the elevator shaft if you wanted. Ok gotta go.”

 

“Now she tells me,” Nosc muttered. They walked back to the elevator shaft each using the boots then throwing them back down so the next person could get out. Nosc was the last one up, the weight and usage had worn the boots out and just as she reached the main level, they lost power and she fell. She landed hard hitting her head. Everything went black.

 

***

 

“Boss? Boss?” Corso said.

 

Nosc opened her eyes, Corso, Gus, and Bowdaar leaned over her.

 

“What happened?” She looked around; they were on the main level of Coruscant again.

 

“Elevator dropped a bit and you hit your head. You were out cold for a minute.”

 

“I had the weirdest dream,” she said rubbing her head. “You guys were all there, and also that cute Officer we saw in that Cantina on Balmorra.”

 

“That guy?” Corso said frowning, “Umm, I don’t think he liked women.”

 

 

 

 

Authors Note:

 

 

I'M SO SORRY.

 

 

OMG so funny!!!

Holy crap so funny!!

Edited July 21, 2012 by iamthehoyden

Dreams/Nightmares

 

What Dreams May Come

JK

some general Scourge-story spoilers, Chap. 3 JK spoilers [had to edit this in, sorry if anyone got spoiled!] continuing the Esma/Scourge thing

 

 

 

Author's Note:

 

 

Edited July 21, 2012 by iamthehoyden