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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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@Ereiniel, “My lord, I … ah … hot pants?” Marvelous.

 

@almostinsane, I figured that love was actually a pretty useful emotion for a Sith. After all, they're all about passion. What could be more passionate than love, lust, jealousy, envy, etc. Love's all about powerful emotions! But as for parents, that direction you took is rather Sith-y. The Inquisitor line has a lot to do with family (at least so far), so I was surprised that the warrior one hasn't.

 

@Striges, I actually think that the tense and perspective really suit the situation. It really conveys a sense of being overwhelmed.

 

@Tatile, those two stories caused my heart to go hnnnnrgh. The first one, because of how it ended :( and the second one because of the adorbs. My heart goes out to Broan.

 

And thanks for your comment, I'm glad you liked it! Though it's too bad the best line got censored. But if that didn't get in, there's no way I could write about what happened in that taxi ;)

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And thanks for your comment, I'm glad you liked it! Though it's too bad the best line got censored. But if that didn't get in, there's no way I could write about what happened in that taxi ;)

 

Tumblr. Tumblr is your friend~

 

Speaking of, I should probably use my Tumblr for something.

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Ereiniel - Omg, Captain Hot Pants - too funny! Your sw is fun :)

 

almostinsane - Xerxes and Vette's interaction is interesting, and I often think of Vette as terrier-like, so her constant poking and proding made perfect sense.

 

Striges - Jurial's connection with the Force is beautiful, as is how he values life. Beautiful.

 

Tatile - "No, you're my weird peach man." So damn cute.

 

QwibQwib - Welcome! A Sith who's a happy drunk - funny and a very welcome addition! :)

 

***

First Day

 

Those Left Behind

bh - Skari & Crae

no spoilers

 

 

I have spent the past months in the company of creatures who move on two legs. More time than any since I left Malek on Kasnee 8. It felt good to be out in the wild again, like part of me had been smothered and only now could breathe. The bite of the mountain wind in my nose, the scent of cold-dried leaves beneath feet. There is a rhythm to walking through woods, following the small paths animals make winding back and forth through the trees, each step a heartbeat.

 

Skari and I had driven as far as we could, but the dense woods made it difficult to move through on speeders, so we were on foot. The lock of hair that always falls into her face blew back as she moved swiftly through the forest, small wisps breaking loose from the spiraled knot she kept her hair in. A Chiss, in armor, scars on her face, and yet she didn't look out of place here, didn't feel out of place. A wild creature in this wild place, wearing the skin of civilization. I grinned at her ground-eating stride, allowing her to forge ahead. The way her hips swayed as she moved was distracting, but worth the hunger it sparked. She glanced back at me, her brows drawn down in a scowl. She is the fire in this cold wild place.

 

We reached the edge of the clearing: an abandoned building, a weathered fence...it all looked very innocent.

 

Creatures who live in the underworld depend on escape routes. They cache supplies and credits, hide exits, and survive by being able to leave a location, even an identity, behind if necessary. An underworld creature without an escape route will go to ground, fight with his back to the wall, but it will be in vain. He is not one for direct confrontation, and there he will die. Akko Nadras was losing his escape routes.

 

The pack had been busy sabotaging his transports, slicing his accounts. Soon Nadras would find his foundations crumbling beneath his very feet. Without credit to pay them, his personal army would unravel. Without transport, he would be trapped. And then, I would kill him.

 

The hunt for today? One of his personal shuttles. It was hidden far out in the wilderness, high up on a mountain side. A small job, but necessary. Skari had the explosives expertise; I had the tracking. She wasn't happy about being alone with me. My cat is wary and beautiful, as always.

 

"This the place?" Skari asked, looking around. The clearing was dotted with hardy flowers, the type that poke through snow on the leading edge of spring. The break in the trees revealed the mountain range extending down the ridge line - one old grandfather of a mountain after another.

 

I moved past her, examining the fence. "It's sound. Sturdy for old construction." I vaulted the fence and started across the clearing towards the structure. I looked back. She hadn't moved. Her face was softer, almost gentle as she looked out at the view. "You coming?"

 

She started, her face settling back into the scowl she wore so often. "Yeah."

 

I grinned and walked back to the fence, meeting her as she approached. I leaned onto the fence. She stopped, took a step back and raised an eyebrow. I grinned, "Like what you see?" My grin widened as a blush started across her cheeks.

 

"Let's go." She scowled at me.

 

"You're allowed to enjoy." She fiercely ignored me and reached for the fence. I touched her hand, and she snatched it back, glaring at me. "When was the last time you let yourself enjoy...a view?"

 

"None of your f**king business, Crae," she snarled. There was pain in her face. Old pain. Can't hold her. Wouldn't let me.

 

"When?"

 

She frowned at me.

 

"Why the f**k does it matter to you?" she asked, half bewildered.

 

"When was it?"

 

She paused, searching my face with those suspicious red eyes, weighing the risk. I am a patient man.

 

"My father..." She stopped, looked away. I waited. "We would sit for hours and watch the sun set on the mountains."

 

"What happened to him?" I asked quietly, not wanting her to dart back to her hidey hole.

 

She sucked in a harsh breath. "He died," she finally said, her eyes still caught on the ancient gray stone, her mind very far away, "they both did."

 

My curiosity burned. My cat's past had made her who she is. I needed to know.

 

"How?"

 

"Imperial agents. On Nar Shaddaa. F**kers just couldn't let us go."

 

Who could? "Where were you going?"

 

"Republic," she said, scowling, "my...my sister was Force sensitive. My parents were taking her to the Jedi."

 

"Your parents died. Your sister?"

 

"The smuggler who was transporting us found her, took her to the Republic. She's a Knight, now," she said, pride breaking through the old hurts.

 

Satisfaction sang in my veins. A sister. A secret. "She's blood. Your family."

 

She smiled sadly. "She has her own family. Doesn't need me and my mess of a life."

 

Ah, my cat. My dear disaster. "You got left behind. Didn't make it to the Republic?"

 

"The smuggler couldn't find me. Thought I'd died in the explosion. Left with Esma."

 

"Which left you on Nar Shaddaa, alone." I pulled myself up on the fence, sitting on the top rail, watching her.

 

Skari's jaw clenched. "I grew up fast."

 

Her tone. My muscles bunched, eyes narrowed. "How fast?"

 

"Not fast enough."

 

Kitten. Can't fix it. Wish I could.

 

"There was a girl. Human. We scavenged in the same area, hid together from the bleeders and the slavers and the other monsters. Said we'd stick together, forever. Pinky swore."

 

She sucked in a shaky breath.

 

"After they..." She closed her eyes. "I hunted them down." She laughed, a harsh sound. "Didn't know what I was doing, just a skinny blue girl with a knife, had never killed before. Should have gotten killed. Almost did."

 

"What was her name?"

 

She glanced up at me, searching my face suspiciously. "Why do you care, Crae?"

 

"You cared for her."

 

She took a breath. "Londaria."

 

"Londaria," I said, committing the name to memory.

 

She stared at me, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow.

 

"Come here," I said, offering my hand.

 

She hesitated and then took a step forward, put her hand in mine. Triumph roared in my chest at the feel of her small hand, slender and strong, in mine. I pulled her up to sit next to me and let go.

 

She sat for a long time, looking out at the mountains. "They all leave," she whispered, her voice nearly lost in the wind.

 

I touched her chin, drawing her gaze. Her eyes are solid red, but her face is so expressive. So little is hidden. All the hurts and hopes and worries out there. "Not all of them," I said quietly, "Not all of them."

 

Author's Note:

This one's been giving me fits. Crae, you're a pain in the a** :mad:

 

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Finally getting to replies! Doop.

 

 

I am formally holding you responsible for sending tea through my nasal passages and out onto my keyboard- ew but :p not sure why this line cracked me up the way it did. It just seems so Pierce-like :)

Pierce can’t help it. He can be awesome. Sometimes. It’s on his dossier.

 

Fino, aw. Ald being domestic.

Ald loves cooking and playing host. It’s something Inusitus focused on to get Ald to stop being such a wild child.

 

Fino - the meal times with the Fury crew are so family-like; ok, a dysfunctional family, but still, they're adorably domestic

So… they’re a normal family? [snickers]

 

@ Fino: Just one big, almost happy, kind-of-getting-along group of people sharing meals. Fun ensues.

Just like any other family gathering. :D

 

@irishfino - I'm intrigued. As nice as it is to see Ald and the crew being a (mostly) functional family, the whole thing seems just a little... weird. Vette, Pierce, and Quinn as an effective combat team? Vette being civil to Quinn? Quinn not just noticing but actively pleased by Vette's happiness? What is this strangely endearing sorcery?

In combat, it is important to put your differences aside. In a group of three, if one goes down, that is a third of your man power. If Pierce goes down, that’s at least half. They focus on the fighting, not so much the (to put it mildly) dislike of one another. As soon as the mission is complete, it’s business as usual.

 

As for Quinn, he’s not so much pleased by Vette’s happiness as he is pleased by the fact that she’s talking to Ald. There’s a part I haven’t written yet, but things get tense on the Fury for a long period of time. Ald considered Vette a friend and when she stops talking to him it hurts him dearly. This hurt bothers Quinn more than anything since he is an indirect cause of it. Once she starts talking to Ald again, progress in repairing their friendship starts and Ald is in a better mood which means Quinn can relax just a tad. He and Ald are not back together at this point, but his happiness is still important to Quinn.

 

@ Fino. - Ald & Quinn.. I don't think I need to say more :)

Nope. :D

 

Quinn and Ald require more study time, I should say. Perhaps you should make them study partners? :p

Oh, they will have more study time. It might not make its way on to the forum, perhaps on that site for deviants such as myself. We’ll see.

 

And I’ll tell you. ;)

@irishfino, you wrote someone calling Quinn boring. Color me astonished. :p

[pulls out a color chart] What color is that? :p

 

@irishfino - I like that Ald goes into this realising fully that Quinn is a plant, but decides to play the game through just to see what's underneath.

At this point, Quinn is useful for his skills and he seems to be fairly interesting. No point in killing him. Yet. >.> <.<

 

@ Irishfino: Interesting first impressions, especially given how their story goes later.

First impressions are important to establishing roles in the beginning of any friendship/partnership/job. They set the stage for later judgment and can be rewritten, albeit painfully in some cases. Quinn’s first few dealings with Ald shape how he sets his calculations. Ald, on the other hand, is open to the idea of there being more to the officer and is far more flexible than Quinn is when his first view isn’t his only view. Fun times are to be had.

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@Fino: Totally agree with Ald on his first impressions. Quinn's so sexy when he's mad. Why so serious? I liked seeing their first impressions of each other, knowing how they end up. I wish we could've at least asked Quinn why he chose to come with us when he supposedly had the pick of the entire galaxy, because it was so freaking transparent - but like Ald said, at least he's cute ...

 

@Kabe: I'm not quite finished with the JK storyline (she's L44), so I was a bit hesitant to read your story with its spoiler caveat - but I'm very glad I did. I absolutely loved the Saresh Drinking Game. Every time that holo in the Taris spaceport turned on, I wanted to change the channel to The Real Housewives of Coruscant or something. (I hate how the voice follows me out of the spaceport, if I leave before she's done talking - I'll be standing in the middle of Olaris and then I hear "TOGETHER!" and it freaks me out.)

 

- I really liked how Remi and Lord Scourge, after all was said and done, were able to give each other a purpose to move forward. Who knows, maybe Scourge will

 

eventually learn to accept the Jedi teachings and point of view (like Lord Praven, but not necessarily to that extent), especially given that he's seen firsthand what happened to the Emperor and doesn't want to end up like that. He's shown that he's open-minded enough to question the precepts he's lived by for centuries, and he can learn from Remi in the same way he taught her to question what she's learned as a Jedi.

 

@Striges: It's an interesting point that Andalar didn't join the Great Hunt, sacrificing honor for honor - prestige for principle. There are so few bounty hunters who operate mainly on principle, and it's refreshing to see that some of them strive to do their jobs with honor. I liked Rixik's reaction to his decision to do that, but I would ask, do "honorable" and "reasonable, intelligent, and practical" have to necessarily be mutually exclusive? Andalar's a good foil for Rixik - they complement each other, but I can see why Rixik would consider him a threat to his survival, and (presumably) vice versa.

 

- I loved the balance Jurial struck between fighting and contemplation - doing both for what he believed was right. I especially loved his conversation with the captain at the end - it's a very important lesson for all of us to remember, that it's not how long you've been in a certain position, it's how you conduct yourself and how you use the qualities you possess that make you worthy of holding that position. I'm a recent law school graduate, so I can really sympathize with Jurial's point of view. I'll definitely remember what he said in the coming months.

 

@almostinsane: I love how Vette was able to see in Xerxes the things he couldn't (or wouldn't) see in himself. He really seemed to be set on fulfilling the traditional Sith 'archetype' that he was willing to ignore, or change, who he really was - and I'm glad Vette was able to begin to show him that he didn't have to be a stereotypical Sith to fulfill the Sith ideals. Vette's much better at reading people than I'm sure most would give her credit for, and her comments, from what little she's seen so far of Xerxes, were very perceptive.

 

@Tatile: Aw, Broan/Rochester <3. It's such a great follow-up to your last story. I'm glad we get to see how far he's come from that day at the club, and that he's happier now.

 

Also,

I have a terrible habit of ending these shorts on speech.

I totally do the same thing! I find that it makes for a great ending. :)

 

@QwibQwib: Welcome! Kaaste is a hilarious drunk!Sith, and Briel's quiet amusement at Kaaste's antics while still being deferential was great. Wonder what will happen with them (or if Kaaste will wake up tomorrow and not remember what happened, or how he got home). I look forward to seeing more of them in the future!

 

@Hoyden: Oh, Crae. Even from the beginning he's quietly examining, probing, prying. Devious joy at finding out other people's secrets that they find difficult to talk about, and are probably telling him in confidence. I really enjoyed seeing how he and Skari began their alliance (if that's in fact what it is ...). Here we go again with me wanting to believe that he means well - and this time, by the end, I almost believe it. Almost.

Edited by Ereiniel
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The character index linked in my sig is up to date!

 

@Ereinel, Eryn!Quinn is going to have a very, very bad time of it, isn't he...

 

@almostinsane, good to see you back! Did your consular Zantel ever get going to pry his brother Teague out from Imp hands? As for Xerxes...Vette's a pushy broad, isn't she? (The answer is yes. The answer is always yes.) I got a laugh out of Big Daddy Sith and Big Mommy Sith hooking up a power coupling to make baby Xerxes.

 

@Striges, Jurial's voice works, and I like it. I love, love, love at the end, the implications of his having the writings of the Warrior-Poet. (Ugh, quest description but I don't have the quest text ready to hand.)

 

@Tatile, I wonder whether that nagging feeling will always be there for outcast minorities. Like, sure, I made it, but...even the people close to me must recognize I'm just an alien.

 

@Qwib, I loved this! Sith can, of course, be absolutely blunt about a great many things, including matters of great political delicacy...it's just somehow a hundred times funnier if they're dead drunk while holding forth on the subject. I applaud Briel staying so very aware through what could've ended very badly. :D

 

Kaaste propped his feet up on the table. "'We're both servants of th'Empire. Brothers-in-arms, y'know?" It was difficult for him to form coherent words, but he continued nonetheless. "I'm a patriot. But most Sith're too busy comparing ***** to give a **** about what's good for th'Empire or its people."

 

"I. . ." Briel hesitated while he tried to hide his bemusement. ". . . I can't say I've ever heard someone say that before."

 

He shrugged. "Feel free t'quote me i'the future,"

 

I'm still giggling uncontrollably over this.

 

@iamthehoyden, Crae, having run his prey ragged, finally closes. I like how proud he is of it.

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First Day on the Job

 

Varenne, Torian, and the beginning of a beautiful friendship. This takes place three years after the first part of my Teachers and Heroes entry. Some minor BH Taris spoilers. 850 words.

 

--

 

A Dubious Endorsement

 

Varenne shivered in the damp cold. She’d never been to Dromund Kaas before, and so far she didn’t like it. The Mandalorian scout who found her on Alderaan had brought her and three others here to start their training. She was the youngest, at eleven, to be scouted. It was intimidating, being surrounded by people she didn’t know, who were all standing around in heavy armor and carrying large guns, talking amongst themselves in a language she did not understand.

 

She and the others were led up to a platform set up in front of the crowd that had assembled to welcome them. They were presented, one by one, to the gathered Mandalorians.

 

“And our youngest recruit is Varenne Girard of Alderaan,” said the scout, consulting his datapad as Varenne stepped forward. “Her candidacy has, uh, been endorsed by … Tarrant Killesa.” His voice trailed off ominously.

 

Instead of the polite applause that followed the other three introductions, Varenne was greeted with silence. She looked out at the assembled group apprehensively. Some of them had disapproving looks on their faces. Actually, a lot of them did.

 

“Send her back!” yelled someone from the back of the crowd, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Killesa’s a dishonorable chakaar. Nothing but trouble. Nothing good can come of keeping her here.”

 

Shabuir! Send her back!” A number of people joined in with their objections.

 

Tears filled Varenne’s eyes. She had thought that joining the Mandalorians would be a wonderful opportunity to

develop her talents, but now that she was here, she began to wonder if it was a good idea after all. What did they have against Tarrant? She had never felt so unwanted in her whole life.

 

“Where’s your honor?” a young voice called above the din. Everyone turned to look at a blond boy, standing near the front of the crowd. “This isn’t how we’re supposed to welcome new people to the clan.”

 

“Shut your little face, arue’tal,” yelled the first objector from all the way in back. “Nobody cares what you think. Not after what your father did.”

 

The boy’s face turned red with anger and embarrassment, as he tried to push his way back through the crowd. “Don’t … ever …”

 

“Settle down, everyone,” called the scout, waving his arms to quiet the crowd. “Who would like to serve as mentors to our newest members?”

 

The other three recruits were quickly claimed and they left with their new mentors. Varenne was left standing alone on the platform, looking forlornly out at the dispersing crowd. The boy who had defended her was still standing there, peering up at her with some curiosity.

 

“Thanks,” she said sadly.

 

“Sure thing,” said the boy, still looking up at her.

 

“What’s your name, kid?” Varenne asked, hopping down from the platform and landing in front of him.

 

“Torian Cadera. Not a kid.”

 

“Sorry,” said Varenne quietly. “It wasn’t meant as an insult. I’m only eleven.”

 

“It’s fine. So am I.” Torian pointed at a nearby tent with a fire pit in front of it, and they headed in that direction. The smells coming from the fire pit were delicious.

 

“What’s an arue’tal?” Varenne asked.

 

Torian was silent for a few long moments. “It means ‘traitor’s blood,’” he said, so quietly that Varenne almost couldn’t hear him. “My dad led a rebellion against Mandalore. I was two. Barely remember him. Probably a good thing. When I grow up I’m going to find him and kill him.”

 

Varenne was shocked. “Kill him? But he’s your dad!” She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to do that. She loved her parents and missed them so much, and she’d only been gone for two days.

 

“I want to get my honor back,” Torian said shortly. “Got to kill him to do that.”

 

Varenne frowned. She didn’t understand the Mandalorian way of thinking. Killing your family to regain honor? It was weird. “I’ve got another question. Why does everyone hate Tarrant? He’s like my big brother. He taught me what I know about shooting a blaster.”

 

“Last year. Great Hunt. Didn’t end well for him,” Torian replied, looking away. “Lost pretty bad, took it hard. Felt everyone else was jealous of him and tried to ruin his chance. He’s gone now. Don’t know where.”

 

“Oh,” said Varenne in a small voice. “I was kind of hoping he’d be here.”

 

“Nah,” Torian said, shrugging. “Nobody talks about him much. Must’ve been really bad.”

 

“Do I have to kill him to get my honor back?” Varenne asked nervously.

 

“Can if you want,” Torian answered. “If you think you have to. It’s different with me – it’s about my family name, my family honor. They don’t let me forget it. But you, it’s not about your honor. They just don’t like you because they don't like your friend.”

 

Varenne still didn’t understand, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah. But I wish they gave me a chance first.”

 

“Well, we can be outcasts together,” Torian said with a humorless laugh, handing her some barbequed meat on a stick. “At least we won’t have to face it alone.”

 

Edited by Ereiniel
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@ Almostinsane: Vette is not OOC:

 

Big Daddy Sith and Mommy Sith hooking up a power coupling and making you.

absolute Vette.

 

Vette and Xerxes are going to be an interesting pair, I think. Assuming, of course, that Vette’s curiosity doesn’t end up getting her into big trouble. You do illustrate that a person doesn’t have to model the behavior he’s been shown, and I like that Vette is the one to observe that about Xerxes.

 

@ Tatile: “My weird peach man”. I love turning the “alien” epithet on its head—to another species, humans are aliens and everything we consider within the range of normal is odd. But I also like the other gulf you show here. Between Sith and non-Sith in the Empire. I can’t help but suspect that’s going to be an ongoing issue for those two.

 

Rixik’s scar: two words. Chick Magnet. But mostly arrogance and an unwillingness to let a mercenary street doc mess with his face. He also uses it as a marker in reverse, keeping his face concealed (helmets and such) when he doesn’t want to be seen.

 

@ QwibQwib: Welcome to the thread! Drunk Sith are great, even if the profanity filter caught a great line. Also fun to have your Agent trying to maintain composure, walking a fine line between indulging a drunk (possibly even more unpredictable than usual) Sith and sedition.

 

@Iamthehoyden: Oh, Skari. Sad…and then I see Crae filing this information away for use later. Hopefully for a nice use, but you never know.

 

@ Ereiniel: I really like how your characters are so tied in with the story as presented. Also how your BH has a longer relationship with Torian than the game shows, how she already knows about Blood, or has an inkling. Really fun to read.

 

To Rixik’s eye, “intelligent, practical, and/or reasonable” are exclusive with “honorable” because honor requires a person to consider how others perceive you, for good or ill. Honor constrains your actions for an artificial constructed rule. Rixik barely follows rules with obvious consequences (laws), so conforming to some made-up rules with no obvious consequences is stupid. Survival and opportunity are his two main drivers, and he doesn’t have much use for anything that gets in his way.

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After finishing that first story, I got into a writing mood! It's a bit short, but it's good for a laugh.

 

Night of the Living Prompt: Bad Timing

Characters: Keeper, Briel, Kaaste

 

 

Keeper was not amused. "Agent, turn off that damnable racket!"

 

I apologized profusely before checking my holoreceiver. "It's a Sith, sir."

 

He muttered something under his breath, but then waved for me to take it.

 

I took a deep breath and answered it. "Lord Kaaste, to what do I owe this honor?"

 

"My mission was a great success, thanks to the data you provided me with."

 

I bowed my head. "I'm glad you are pleased, milord."

 

He grinned slyly. "I was very pleased with your performance, both--"

 

I had to interrupt before Keeper overheard any more. "Milord, now is not the time to be discussing that." My voice was hushed, and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. No doubt others could see it.

 

"I'd like to meet up with you again sometime." He hadn't seemed to have gotten the hint. "We could discuss it then."

 

I was frantic. "My lord, I am in a meeting."

 

His eyes widened and seemed a little embarrassed. "Oh. Well, I, uh. . ." He coughed. ". . . I will contact you later."

 

"Glory to the Sith," I replied.

 

I gave a sigh of relief when he turned off his communicator. When I looked back at Keeper, his eyebrow was raised but he did not say a word about it before continuing with the meeting.

 

 

 

Author's note

 

One, I love Keeper. Two, I always wondered what would happen if nearby NPCs could listen in on your holocalls.

 

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Keeper was not amused. "Agent, turn off that damnable racket!"

 

I apologized profusely before checking my holoreceiver. "It's a Sith, sir."

It's not healthy to shake from laughter this much I don't think. Ah, Sith, noisy, barging in places they really shouldn't be, generally not giving a sh*t. This pairing is proving to be very amusing :D

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After finishing that first story, I got into a writing mood! It's a bit short, but it's good for a laugh.

 

Night of the Living Prompt: Bad Timing

Characters: Keeper, Briel, Kaaste

 

Love it. I love Keeper from the storyline, he's always struck me as the kind of person who wants the Agent to get the job done, but no non-job-related fraternizing when you should be working!

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@Tatile, I should invest in a tumblr for that purpose. And I don't know how Keeper would react to um... amorous fraternization on the job, especially when a Sith was involved. I figured the eyebrow was IC, though.

 

@iamthehoyden, Thanks! I'm glad you like them. They can be noisy, can't they? I enjoy writing them :)

 

@Ereiniel, Briel knows when to hold his tongue. And Kaaste definitely remembers what happened afterward :p

He grinned slyly. "I was very pleased with your performance, both--"

 

I had to interrupt before Keeper overheard any more. "Milord, now is not the time to be discussing that." My voice was hushed, and I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

 

 

@bright_ephemera, Briel knows to watch what he says even when drinking.

"I'm a patriot. But most Sith're too busy comparing d*cks to give a sh*t about what's good for th'Empire or its people."

I was really pleased with that line myself.

 

@Striges, see above :D

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NotLP: Affection

 

Sniper Lessons

bh - Skari and Crae

no spoilers

 

Skari leaned back on a tree and crossed her arms. Her eyes kept sliding to the lean, brown man settled on his stomach, watching the compound far below through his rifle's scope. He hadn't moved in an hour and, even so, he was distracting. Had been distracting all week.

 

In planning sessions, where she was supposed to be concentrating on how Nadras's forces were unraveling, all her attention was on a warm hand resting at the base of her spine. At dinner, where there were ongoing arguments over whether a frontal assault or infiltration would be better, her brain blanked out at his brief touch on her thigh. When she was supposed to be prepping equipment, she lost minutes remembering him stroking her cheek as she headed to bed the night before. She scowled. Her heart needed to stop pounding when he got close, and her head needed to refocus on the job at hand.

 

"Any movement?" she asked, needing something concrete to think about besides the way his hands handled the rifle. They were strong hands, calloused, wide across the palm, long fingered, but not thick. Capable. She jerked back to attention as he looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.

 

"What?" she snapped, feeling blood rushing to her cheeks.

 

He grinned and looked back through his scope. "Nadras is holing up. Fortifying the central entrance. Going to ground."

 

"The diehards still there?"

 

"Yep. Stupid or loyal. They're likely to be difficult to get through."

 

"Missiles, motherf**ker, missiles," she said with a grin.

 

He grimaced. "Take them out from here."

 

"You won't get them all," she said, "minute they start dropping, the rest of them are going to hide like f**king rats." She walked over to stand next to him, peering down at what looked like ants on the ground of the compound far below. "Could you really hit them from here?"

 

He shrugged, the movement shifting the long sleeved undershirt he wore. The day had warmed slightly, mostly dried the ground. There will still patches of snow here and there, but it was warm after the cold of the last weeks. "Thousand meters. I rarely miss till it's double that."

 

She whistled. "Sh*t, I'm lucky if I can make 500."

 

He looked up at her, his expression inscrutable, "Not that it matters, since you prefer point blank range."

 

She shrugged. "Never did much long-range. Don't know how."

 

"Come here," he said, shifting away from the rifle on its stand, making room for her. "Lay down on your stomach," he directed.

 

She frowned and then lay down where he'd been. The body heat left on the flattened dry grass warmed her.

 

"You'll need to spread your feet apart," he said, grasping her leg right above the knee and pulling her leg over. He didn't remove his hand. Skari's heart started to pound. She glanced back and him. His golden predator's eyes were narrowed, intent.

 

"Now," he said, running his hand lightly up her side to her arm, leaning over her back, shifting her elbow an inch to the right, "you want to be comfortable, rest on your bones, not your muscles. Sniping takes patience." There was something about the way he said it, Skari glanced up at him to see him running his gaze up her body.

 

"What are you up to, Crae?" she asked warily.

 

"What? Don't trust me?" he teased.

 

She snorted and looked down the sight of the rifle. He reached around her with both muscled arms, his body draped half over hers, and adjusted her grip on the gun slightly. "Your scent," he said, dipping his head into the crook of her neck and sniffing, "it keeps me awake some nights."

 

Skari's heart was pounding in her chest. "D-don't be ridiculous, Crae," she stuttered as a shudder rocked her body.

 

He brushed her neck lightly with his lips. "All woman, no chemicals, and a hint..." he sniffed again "...of durasteel. Intoxicating."

 

"You're crazy," she whispered, her body heating.

 

He lightly traced her spine from the nape of her neck down, and then further still. She froze, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would break out of her chest.

 

He grinned against her ear, "Breathe, honey."

 

She sucked in a breath and moved, letting go of the gun, twisting in his grasp. "Crae, I d-don't think..."

 

He caught her lips with his. She gasped, ready to push away, but he didn't attack, just savored, tasted. He increased the pressure and then backed off, looking at her, his arms still around her. She stared into his eyes. This close they weren't just gold, there were slices of green shot through the iris as well, and dark brown. She reached towards the burn scars on his face and then hesitated.

 

"It's okay," he said, his voice steady although she could feel his heart beating fast where he pressed against her. She touched his face, watching his intent eyes.

 

"It's okay, honey," he said again, a fierce smile in his eyes and on his lips, "I won't hurt you."

 

Skari bit her lip and then sucked in a shuddering breath. "F**k it," she said and leaned into him, meeting his lips with hers.

 

Author's Note:

Crae completely distracted me from the need to actually have a prompt....or a title. Pulling up the text editor to post led to "shoot! I need a prompt!" Ah Crae, what am I going to do with you?

 

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Night of the Living Prompt: First Impressions

Charaters: Malavai Quinn and Vette

Universe: Aldrdinar, the Silly Sith Warrior

 

Quinn on Vette

 

 

What an annoying creature. She called herself a free Twi’lek, and, yet, here she was, indentured to a Sith Apprentice. And she talked. Non-stop. Just talked. She didn’t even make sense half the time. Chatting. Chattering. Noises. It was all noise. As soon as he joined the crew, she made it clear she didn’t do “domestic duties.” He handed her a mop and broom and told her that she did, in fact, do domestic duties. He knew that wasn’t what she meant, but she needed put in her place: beneath him, but not – dammit. She was back, pestering, poking, prodding, trying to distract.

 

Note to Self: when the time comes, kill the Twi’lek first.

 

 

 

Vette on Quinn

 

 

He was kind of cute, in an overly stiff, utterly Imperial, total a*s hat kind of way. It would be fun to annoy him.

 

And annoy him she did.

 

Edited by irishfino
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Double-post!

 

Prompt: Night of the Living Prompt: Family

Characters: Aldra, Aldrdinar, and Malavai Quinn

 

 

The Little Things

 

 

 

 

It had been a week since he had nearly been sliced into quarters by that Padawan from their rescue mission. A liberal application of a kolto tank and a favor called in to a Sith healer had him nearly at one hundred percent. But nearly one-hundred percent was not one hundred percent and he felt it in every muscle, every tendon, every nerve as he moved. His chest was still tight, new skin, new muscle. Hard to breathe the way he was used to. He would adjust. He always did. He pressed his fingers into his side. There was no pain, this time, but it would return. It always did. He finally found enough downtime to research possible causes, what sort of chemicals were used, if it was some sort of disease, man-made or otherwise. He started with Balmorra first, the most obvious place to find information on whatever this was. Information on necrotizing biological weaponry being used by the Resistance matched well with what he was suffering from, but so few survived exposure it was hard to find information on whether or not it was a recurring issue. The few who had survived were in no condition to speak. He sighed and sat back in his chair. He wasn’t coming up with much and with his body still on the mend he was already tired. It had only been sixteen hours of non-stop research. He hadn’t even taken a break to use the refresher. He decided now was as good as time as any to meet his most basic needs.

 

Aldra greeted him as he left the refresher.

 

“Pardon me,” he said quietly as he edged around her.

 

“Wait,” her little voice squeaked.

 

He stopped and turned toward her. She fidgeted under his blank stare. He noticed and immediately shifted to his kid face and dropped to his haunches.

 

“Did you need something?” he asked gently.

 

“I – I – thank you,” she murmured. “For – for helping dad come get me.”

 

A genuine smile spread across his features. “You are most welcome, Aldra.”

 

She smiled when his smile appeared. “Are you a dad, too?”

 

His smile dropped a little. “I am, yes.”

 

“Are you with my dad?”

 

“I am the Captain of the ship.”

 

“I know that, but are you two together?”

 

He stared at her for a long moment then shook his head. “No, we are not.”

 

“Really?” Aldra asked with an arched brow ridge. “He seemed really worried about you. Even brought in Aldria to heal you.”

 

“Your father considers me a valuable asset to his chosen team,” he said stiffly. His smile was completely gone as he said, “That is all, Aldra.”

 

The little girl squinted at him for a moment as if focusing really hard on some unseen problem then nodded sagely.

 

“I came to get you for dinner,” Aldra said with a smile. Something mischievous sparked in those golden eyes.

 

He nodded to her and stood. As he turned to walk to the conference room, the little girl snatched his hand. He allowed her to lead them to the conference. He wasn’t going to fight a child, especially not Ald’s child, on something so simple as hand holding, but it made him uncomfortable. He didn’t mind children, but her small hand in his made him think of his son. He would be eleven soon. He wasn’t much older than Aldra, about four years if he remembered correctly. Which he did. Exactly four years then. Four years, three months, six days if he wanted to be exactly exact. Which he did.

 

When they entered the conference room, the seating had been rearranged slightly, Quinn was now moved down a spot with Aldra taking his usual seat. It didn’t bother him at all. The girl needed to spend time with her father and now was the best time as, after finalizing everything, she would be moving to Korriban. As Aldra lead him to his seat, he wondered if she would encounter Julien there. His son. His Force blessed son. Perhaps he would be able to get a letter through to him at the Academy. With the Wrath on his side, at least one could get through, right? At least one. But, the question remained, was the Wrath on his side?

 

He sat down and glanced at Ald. Ald’s face remained impassive. He studied the Captain with an all too familiar blank stare. Not so much as a greeting or a smile. Even his plate remained unserved.

 

“Aldra, we have another guest,” Ald said with a smile.

 

“Yes, papa!” Aldra beamed.

 

She grabbed a plate, stood on the seat of the chair, and served Quinn his meal. He couldn’t help, but smile with wonder and amusement at her antics. And Ald. Quinn felt a chuckle bubble in his throat when he turned his eyes to Ald and was met with the smile of a proud and happy father. The chuckle died quickly as did the smile on his face. He missed his son.

 

 

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@ QwibQwib: “It’s a Sith, sir.” The blanket excuse that even Keeper can’t argue with. Much fun to read.

 

@ Iamthehoyden: Always the stupid with that man. I enjoy watching this story develop. Skari’s and Crae’s perspectives changing, yet in some ways remaining the same.

 

@ Irishfino: There are certain people who are both easy and amusing to annoy. Quinn is definitely one of those (in a totally *sshat kind of way). Interesting to think of Quinn as a dad.

 

@ Bright: Jurial saved the works of Avamarivash for a number of reasons, not the least of which being because it was not the “right” choice. I had planned on including more biographical information in the story…but as usual, Jurial has his own mind :).

 

I’ve added a pic of Jurial (not the best, I’m afraid) to his last story, and here as well, so you don’t have to go back to the other post to find him. Not thrilled with the kilt portion, but at least he’s no longer Shrek in a bathrobe.

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Ok. This is really nerve racking but here I go... (does this ever get any easier??)

 

Prompt: Zombie prompt - My First

 

Characters: Bounty Hunter (because my brain's too small to have more than one character in it at a time) and Torian

 

Words: 1,900

 

No spoilers on anything at all.

 

Apologies that it's slightly AU since it strongly Torian's ignorance of her past, but the prompt was here and... :o

 

 

 

'First kill, Torian?'

 

I fill up his drink and my own. He thinks.

 

Eventually answers. 'Thirteen and it was just a Pub soldier. Nothing special. Wasn't personal. Lot more followed her.'

 

I raise an eye brow and lean back into the chair and throw my feet on to the consol between us. Sitting in the cockpit for a change. Was watching the stars go by when Torian joined me. Not sure how talking about how long till landing on Belsavis turned into drinking and reminiscing. Think it was when he silently took a seat and eventually asked if I'd ever been to Belsavis before.

 

'A woman, huh?'

 

'Yeah. Happened on a Republic flag ship.' He tells me the details of the mission. Like the way it animates his features and voice. Seems like a good memory. Wish mine was as good.

 

'If you could have chosen your first kill, who would it have been?' I ask when the narration ends. He frowns again and the vibrancy disappears, leaving a serious expression and dark eyes.

 

'Jicoln.' Answer is sure and firm. Should of been able to guess. But I'm not used to remembering details about lives. To do that, you need people in your life in a way that doesn't involve mutilation or death.

 

'What about you, Champion? Imagine your first kill is quite the tale.'

 

I wave the question away and try not scowl. Not the honourable story he thinks it will be. Not honourable or interesting. 'Nothing to brag about. Long time ago now. More interested in hearing about the first woman you slept with.'

 

'Only tell you if you tell me about your first kill,' he retorts sternly. I look at him with vague surprise and a lot of amusement. Mando punk can be a little stubborn and persistent.

 

'Fifteen or sixteen. Was a soldier, like yours. Happened on Corellia. It was personal. Not much else to tell.' I shrug again and take my feet off the consol as I lean forward to fill up his glass, despite it being still full. He takes it and I fill up mine again. Return to my reclining position.

 

He nods and wavers. Can tell he's thinking about asking about it again. He seems to come to a decision. Wasn't the right one.

 

'Why'd you kill him?'

 

'Like you, Torian. But I don't like you enough to not kill you when you ask too many questions.' Liar. He nods and frowns, his shoulders becoming rigid. Wrong thing to say but had no choice when he asks questions I don't want to answer.

 

Wouldn't be here if it weren't for all that ****. Haven't decided yet if the now is good enough to balance out the then. Really don't think it is. Travelling through space killing people you want to and getting paid for it with a dysfunctional crew held only together by the common element of nowhere else to go and no one else to be with as well a shared desire to have plenty of credits isn't exactly the ideal or dreamt of life: a dysfunctional crew that includes a whining teenage girl, a sly and roughish Devaronian, a Jawa and the galaxies most annoying droid. I don't know how to characterise Torian. Only know he makes me feel... strange. And someone making me feeling anything more than irritation is a confusing novelty I don't have time for. How is this better than being controlled by a sadistic General and one of the galaxies most powerful organisations?

 

'Starting to think you just don't want to tell me about your first woman.' I pause and tilt my head to the side, evaluating the gorgeous blonde Mando in front of me. 'Or man.'

 

'Woman,' Torian replies sternly with a small smile. But his eyes remain intent and I know he knows I poorly changed the subject. Can't meet them so I twirl in my chair to watch hyperspace and Torian slowly does the same. But he doesn't watch the stars - eyes seem as fixed on me as always.

 

'So tell me about her. Was she Mando? Hot? I imagine you going for brunettes.'

 

Image of Mako and Torian is strong in my mind. I don't know why I linger in the corridors to watch them eat or listen to them talk before moving on. I don't know why it makes me feel a little weak to hear her laugh with him. I don't know why I sometimes wait alone for him to come and see me after, like he did tonight. I don't understand why it makes me hurt somewhere in my chest when I imagine him looking at her in a way he'll never look at me.

 

He shakes his head and though he doesn't smile, I can tell he's teasing. 'Like you, Cyare. But I don't like you enough to not kill you when you ask too many questions.'

 

I almost return the smile. 'Like to see you try.'

 

Torian chuckles and the sound surprises me. First time I've heard him laugh at something I've said. Doesn't seem to have that problem with the Jawa. Though the Jawa doesn't come with the constant danger of stabbing him if he asks too much or says something wrong...

 

I glance at him and like the small happy smile that's there, partially hidden by a hand. But I'm quick to look away.

 

'Don't have a death wish,' Torian eventually says.

 

We pause again. Can feel his eyes wander to me every now and again but I never look at him. Just keep drinking.

 

'Like red heads best.'

 

Choke on my whiskey and glance at Torian. Small smile tugs at the corners of his lips and his eyebrows show the most smug amusement I've ever seen them wear. Scowl at him and shake my head. Brush any allusions aside and restrain my free hand from impatiently flicking my red hair back from my eyes.

 

'So your first was a red head, huh?'

 

'No. Hoping my last will be.' Torian shakes his head and looks out the window. 'First had blonde hair.' His eyes return to me and I immediately gaze away again. 'What about you? First man?'

 

I shrug and empty my glass. 'Just a man,' I sternly reply.

 

'Black hair?'

 

I don't reply for a long moment. Image of the General's black hair, green eyes and light smile clouds my vision and blocks out the stars. I shake my head but it doesn't go. I shiver as his smile only gets wider and wider.

 

'Miss. First was just a dirty brown. He was a soldier. Not my choice and not my first kill either. Got around to him eventually.' I don't know why I just told him that. Kid has a way of making me say things I'd rather not.

 

'Kill all the men you sleep with?'

 

I glance at him sharply. Subtle teasing look disappears under my fleeting glare. Clench my fists and look away.

 

I try a smile as I reply, 'seems to be the rule so far.' They deserved it.

 

'Remember that.'

 

'Why? Had you been thinking of sleeping with me until then?' I smirk at him and keep my tone light. Don't know I'm doing this to myself. I know he wasn't. So I don't know why I am so eager to hear it. 'I don't think Mako would be too happy to hear that.'

 

'Probably not,' he replies simply. Certain flippantness of the comment makes me look at him curiously. Smile as I remind myself they're not together despite the hopes she forces on me every night. Ignore how he didn't deny my flirting accusation. I'm too smart to read anything into it. So why is your blood pumping faster?

 

'First love?' I ask curiously. Never thought I'd be playing this game more than once with the Mando punk. Never played with some who gives answers with bluntness but no crudeness and an open honesty that has no arrogance. Wonder how you had to grow up to have that.

 

'Think it's my turn, Cy- Champion.' Smile twitches at his lips. 'Your first heart break?'

 

'First? Been so many I can't remember back beyond the last ten.' I don't know why I make the jest. The delivery is detached and mocking. I sigh, shake my head and laugh at myself. Feel I owe him half an answer.

 

'Sixteen. He was older. Don't even try and guess how much older. You'll come up short because of your cultures weird coming of age and marriage crap before you've even started shaving.' I wave my hand dismissively but imagine the motion slapping me as I curse myself for only insulting Torian again. Can't help when someone tries to get this close to me. Instinct is always to cut back.

 

'Makes me curious about you, by the way, "Torian Cadera, Not A Kid".' I don't need to take my eyes from the window to know his frown only deepens. 'Sorry. Anyway. The relationship,' I emphasise the word with scorn, 'lasted an entire eleven or twelve years where it finally concluded when he was brutally murdered.'

 

'Sorry.'

 

'Don't be. I killed him.' Look at him slyly out of the corner of my eye and enjoy the shock, surprise and re-evaluation I observe in his expression. 'Let's just say, his crimes were numerous and constant infidelity was the least of them.' Touching my fake eye before I know it and I wince at the cold metal.

 

Torian nods but doesn't comment. I'm glad. Because I really would kill him if he asked.

 

We drift into a pause as I let Torian work this bit information in with the rest.

 

'So. My turn. Your first heart break?'

 

'Haven't had one.' I throw him an inquisitive look and something close to an encouraging smile. Like hearing others stories without ever telling mine.

 

He shrugs his shoulders and doesn't say any more.

 

'Never loved anyone?' I ask in unreserved disbelief. Even I've loved someone. If it's possible for something like me, it should be more than possible for some one like him. More than a little amazing he isn't already married.

 

'Never said that.'

 

'Interesting. Why are you here if there's a girl waiting for you?'

 

'She's here.'

 

'You know Blizz is male, right?'

 

Torian chuckles again and nods his head. Glad he finds me a little funny. Not used to making jokes. 'I do.'

 

I have nothing else to say. I don't want to hear how much he loves Mako. I don't enjoy torturing myself that much. I can't do this anymore. I turn in my chair to leave but Torian's voice stops me before I stand.

 

'And you, Champion?'

 

Turn my head to regard the Mando coldly with lips in a tight grimace. But I can't keep it in place. Something about being near him makes it hard for me to breathe and stay distant. I laugh and shake my head a little, my hair falling into my eyes again.

 

'I don't love Blizz either.'

 

He doesn't appreciate the jest and frowns. He stares intently at me with those good damn blue eyes that don't allow any doubt or misunderstandings. 'Not what I meant. '

 

'I know what you meant,' I snap back. Feel I just stepped over a line. Wonder if on that side of the line, I'm ugly to him. Wonder if he likes me just that little bit less now. I can't look to his face to find out. I'd rather keep my ideas that can be ignored than see facts that can never be discarded. Why would he ever like a thing like you in the first place? You have nothing to lose. But there is a first for everything... Fool.

 

I swing round in my chair and pick up my bottle from the consol. I push out of the chair and walk away.

 

But I pause at the doorway and quietly say to myself as much as I do to him, 'I don't love anyone. I don't need love.'

 

Liar.

 

 

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Ok. This is really nerve racking but here I go... (does this ever get any easier??)

Slightly easier, but I still end up swearing at myself every time I post a story cause I'm scared no one will like it :o.

 

Ack, these two, I'm all emotional over these two. Love Torian's comment about redheads hehe. And she hurts my heart, all pointy edges outside and vulnerable inside.

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Yes and no. Then there's the refreshing-the-page-twelve-times-in-an-hour hoping someone commented and that they liked what you wrote. Or maybe that's just me :o

 

I do like the sort of poking around the edges going on here. How, exactly, do hedgehogs fall in love when they're all pr*ckly on the outside?

 

(And why for heaven's sake does the profanity filter censor "pr*ckly"??? Argh!)

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When I ignore BH game plot elements (and, for that matter, certain content advisories), it's not because I hate the writers. I promise!

 

@QwibQwib I love seeing Keeper annoyed by the billion annoyances of his job. I really do. I don't actually remember whether he had any reactions in game to my [Flirt]ing with everything in possession of a pulse...pity, I'd have loved to hear that VA have a go at additional icy disapproval with a side of Keeper's trademark angryface. (Oh, wait - he did have one very stiff "When you're quite finished" after I hit on Watcher Two, but that may have been provoked by Watcher Two/Kaliyo sniping as much as my inappropriate advances. The man gets to herd cats for a living...:rolleyes:)

 

(P.S. I have infinite love for Agent/Warrior pairings.)

 

@iamthehoyden, aiee, hands. That's a devastating mindstate :D Also that was way not something I should've been reading at work, so far as having any concentration whatsoever afterward goes. Wow, I love how that went.

 

@irishfino I believe I mentioned that your Vette/Quinn first impression is my favorite Ald!verse story yet. "Kill the Twi'lek first"...perfect planning, Quinn, my boy XD

 

@EverSteam, bated breath was actually involved in reading this. Wonderful tension. And I know so little about Torian thanks to the fact that almost all his stories are bound up in BH spoilers one way or another; he seems intriguing.

 

...rather than mashing F5 on this thread, I keep instant-email notification up. And keep a live-updating email window open at all times, you know, just in case. :o

Edited by bright_ephemera
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Fino, Aldra is so cute :) Very much Ald's daughter. (Not that Ald is cute...er...cause hot is different from cute? Oh dear...brain shutting down...)

Ald spends a lot of time with Aldra when he can. When he can't, he sends her letters reminding her to stay happy. If he has a freer moment, he calls her on the Holo and speaks with her for hours. He adores his little girl. And she's not his only kid. Heeheee.

 

@ Irishfino: There are certain people who are both easy and amusing to annoy. Quinn is definitely one of those (in a totally *sshat kind of way). Interesting to think of Quinn as a dad.

Quinn would be so fun to tick off, it's insane. As for Quinn being a dad, I think he'd be a pretty decent one. I'm sure he's fairly open to his loved ones in private.

 

@irishfino I believe I mentioned that your Vette/Quinn first impression is my favorite Ald!verse story yet. "Kill the Twi'lek first"...perfect planning, Quinn, my boy XD

It's the only logical choice he makes regarding the whole deal with the SW and the Transponder Station, lol.

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