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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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YoshiRalphElan: I blame double-XP and US holiday weekend. On the story: sounds like they both needed a chance to shop together. I liked Dha’s complete acceptance of the shopping binge.

 

Irishfino: “They leave everything to the imagination” indeed. Quinn, sneaky? Never! Very cute piece.

 

Alaurin: One of the things I like about your Cathar characters is how much their culture is part of them. They’re not humans with fur and claws. They’re Cathar. I also like the weaving together of the various class stories.

 

Jorgan buying the dress was beautiful. A lovely gesture, I can see him doing ut.

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I'm going to try my best to participate here more, since I miss writing and it helps me a lot to keep my head straight, but I feel unwelcome on Tumblr due to some events that have happened.

 

Prompt: Changes

Character: Latula Alyssum

Note: Sorry - you know who you are, if you're still here.

 

 

I stared at myself in the mirror, more of my body visible than I'd like in my new Jedi training vest. The skin over my abdomen was growing taut again, but the white marks stubbornly refused to fade. "See what you did to me, Valyra?" I said in my languid, heavily accented voice - the one that marked me not just as a stranger, but as the enemy.

 

Valyra cooed at me from my bed, and when I looked over at her I couldn't help but smile. I tied on a linen tunic and scooped up my daughter, holding her close and breathing in her soft, sweet baby smell. Valyra would never know the real meaning of my defection. She'd never know what it meant to be afraid to speak because your voice gave you away. And I prayed she'd never know she was my link to my old life.

 

My uncle had agreed to promote me on one condition: that I provide an heir for our house. I agreed; I let him choose my child's father and did with him what was expected of me. I had thought, back then, that I could change the Empire, but I couldn't. So I left, I presented myself to the Jedi, and they let me pay lip service to their Order and then walk away. I could say I was a Jedi Knight, if I wanted to, but I wasn't going to receive any of the Order's secrets. It wasn't what I'd thought I was walking into.

 

I looked back at the mirror. Something was off about my appearance. Something that made me seem too young, too privileged, too much the polished Sith noblewoman who really only belonged in the highest echelons of Imperial society - certainly not here. I couldn't figure out what it was.

 

Valyra giggled and grabbed my hair, and suddenly it struck me. My hair!

 

My beautiful, long, golden hair - I'd taken such time to care for it. Every day I swept it up into a shining coif that looked easy and effortless. Nothing else marked me as a woman of breeding the way my hair did. It was more than status, it was me.

 

I set Valyra down on my bed again, and she cooed at me. I went to my desk and pulled out a small knife, one I usually used for opening packages or mail. I unpinned my hair and let it fall over my shoulders. I picked up a section of it, close to the side of my face, and held the knife up to it - then stopped for a long moment. This act was symbolic, it was the loss of the girl I had been. What if I hated the new Latula? What if she was a disaster, a villain, a horrible mess? I felt my hand shaking, and then in the blink of an eye I saw a curtain of golden hair fall to the floor.

 

I swallowed. I'd cut it to the length of my chin. For a moment I panicked, but it was too late now. In an odd sort of frenzy I hacked at my hair, chopping it short and straight. When I was done, I was surprised at how I looked - so severe, older. The scar on my face, acquired during my journey to the Republic, stood out more. My eyes looked harder and my face looked more angular. But everything about me looked stronger.

 

The new Latula wouldn't lie anymore. She would face the truth no matter how painful it was. I turned to look at my daughter.

 

* * *

 

It didn't happen like I'd said it did.

 

I begged my uncle to allow me one provision: let me choose my heir's father myself. I swore he'd be Sith, too. I implored him to trust me, let me at least know the man whose child would be growing inside me. The concession was fair, but my uncle warned me that I should choose wisely, for he'd be providing future generations of our house with his own lineage. I agreed.

 

He would have done anything for me. I had plucked him out of the streets of Nar Shaddaa and made him my apprentice. Seducing him was easy, no matter how much he loved the Chiss girl who worked for me. Hero worship was a powerful drug. I took him to my bed secretly, night after night, and I only saw what I wanted to see. I believed he might love me like I'd come to love him. In the Tatooine desert, he rejected me for the last time, and I sent him away.

 

His wife, my servant, might think she's special. She might be. I can't downplay her importance to him - but before she gave him a child, I did.

 

How many times had I whispered his name in the dark, when his breath was on my neck? A common Imperial name, a corruption of an old Sith word: vaelmyr. Feminized, valyra. I gave his daughter his name, and he'd never even know if he met her. Or maybe he would.

 

She had his eyes.

 

I held her close. Let them both forget me; their betrayal was still alive. Her name was Valyra.

 

 

 

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Elliotcat: Welcome back, do please contribute here. We've missed you, thread-starter!

 

Latula's introspection is so very personal in your story. I especially liked her statement at the end of the initial part, that she would face the truth. Leading into the second, where she retellls the story without the fringe and almost-lies. Really well done.

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Our regularly scehduled prompt provider won't be with us today, so we booked a replacement. Appearing now *drum roll*

 

Week of 12/6/13

Heritage and Antiques---Star Wars is full of special things. Old things. Things with personal meaning, things revered as holy. The lightsaber your father wanted you to have when you were old enough. Your grandmother’s silver (or silver ship) you hope one day to give to your grandchildren. The insignia of your squad’s first commander, the one whose bravery won her (or him) a medal and gave your squad its reputation. The holocron that corrupted (or redeemed) your master. What things, places, or heirlooms are special to your character?

 

As always, there’s Night of the Living Prompt. Use any prompt you like. See the list here:

http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=5223753&postcount=1675

This week’s featured NotLP is:

Ceremony---Some of our characters don’t stand on it, for others it is the most important thing. It could be coming of age, marriage, graduation, retirement, or something else. Large and formal, small and casual, secular, religious, cultural, or both. Once in a lifetime, or something that recurs yearly or monthly or daily. Characters participate in many ceremonies during their lives and in various capacities. Write about a special one.

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Prompt - Heritage and Antiques

Title - The Mother's Gift

Class - Jedi Consular

No spoilers

 

 

Gareb walked into Nadia's quarters with a little smile hiding under his mustache. Nadia turned, saw him, and beamed. She strode over and hugged him warmly. He accepted the embrace and pulled back after a moment.

 

"I have something for you," he said. "Jedi are not usually allowed to have possessions, but I have had this for many years; I want you to take it."

 

Nadia raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

 

Gareb reached into his tunic pocket and pulled out a shining gold chain with a blue gem at the end. He placed it around her neck and stepped back to examine her. It beautifully matched her tattoos, he decided.

 

"It was my mother's," he explained. "I had no sisters, so it was passed to me."

 

"It's beautiful," she replied, and hugged him again.

 

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Hooooooly freaking stories! Like tribbles, I tell you! TRIBBLES! (yes, I dropped a ST reference there. I'm sorry, I'll go to my room now.)

 

In answer to Bright's question:

 

@DSM, Question, so the characters who use "Lt.," "Capt." and other rank abbreviations pronounce the short version as written?

They pronounce the entire word. I only use the abbreviation if it accompanies a name. Otherwise, it should be the entire word, indicating that specific person (Lt. Jorgan or Lieutenant). I get kinda lazy and don't want to spell it out all the time :o

 

 

I'm going to take a rare pass and just say that there's a lot of good stuff since before TG. I have so far enjoyed all of it, and welcome back Elliotcat! I'll work on keeping up with the comments going forward! In the mean time, I have more Trooper goodness that hopefully you'll all enjoy!

 

Prompt: Behind the Scenes (sort of?)

Class: Trooper (Kiera'Kian)

Title: The Price You Pay to Play the Game, Pt.3

Words: A wee 1,749ish

Timeframe: A day'ish after this, and about 5 days after this

 

Mando'a Trans: (Osiik - Poodoo)

 

 

She sat in a dark corner booth of the Silent Sun Cantina. Her only company at the table was a half empty Durosian tequila bottle, a shot glass, and a plate of various slices of citrus fruits.

 

Jorgan had been pulled back to active duty shortly after they’d bagged Kar’wa, and Jonas had been on assignment since the incident with Garza. Bro’Kian had been trying to check in on her regularly, but as much as she loved her brother, his concern was becoming annoying. She’d turned to spending her nights here, as they usually ended in some fracas or another. Being the Silent Sun, no one really cared much. Fighting was a popular item on the menu, next to the watered down whiskey.

 

“Captain, what a charming establishment you’ve chosen to spend your time in.” The voice was commanding, with a hint of irritation.

 

Well speak of the devil… She looked up and saw Gen. Garza, hair pulled into a pony tail and hanging in front of her chest on the left side, dressed in civvies and a duster. No military insignias anywhere, but Kiera was sure the long coat was armored none the less. She remained silent as they locked eyes.

 

“Might I join you?”

 

Kiera waved her hand to the empty seat across from her, “By all means. I was just leaving.”

 

“No, Capt. Kiera’Kian, you weren’t." Garza said with an authoritative tone, "We have some things we need to discuss.” She produced a folder and tossed it on the table. Pictures of Kiera working the bounty job slid out.

 

“Things such as, what did you think you were doing, taking a bounty dressed in HAVOC squad armor? You have a review coming up to determine your eligibility to lead HAVOC-VG! Unless you’re planning a sudden career change to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps, this is unacceptable. The board will have a field day with this!”

 

“Really? REALLY?! I helped people, Garza! Were you even aware that this piece of osiik was from Czerka? That they have a plan—“

 

“—to consolidate the Black Sun under one leader, and franchise them across the galaxy like a chain of McNerf’s? Yes, as a matter of fact, I was fully aware of that. We’ve been aware of that for months now, and already had people involved through the SIS. They’re not happy with you, by the way. You flushed several million credits of time and work down the drain with your little ‘hero of the people’ act.”

 

Kiera wore an incredulous look, “You knew? YOU KNEW?! People are DYING down here, you heartless b*tch! Things became so bad they posted a karking bounty! A man lost his daughter! And you all just sat back and let it happen?!”

 

Lower your voice, Captain!” Garza hissed. “We hardly need an audience in a place like this! Yes, we knew. Yes, it is a tragedy what has happened to these people. However, you again refuse to see the bigger picture.”

 

“What could be bigger than protecting the people we took an oath for? Bigger than saving a father from losing his only daughter because no one would listen to them?”

 

Garza shook her head and sighed. ”So you’ve taken down Czerka’s hired muscle. You think this operation was so critical that they couldn’t replace him with someone else? With someone meaner? Tougher? The fact of the matter is, Captain, all you did was supply short term relief. Within a month’s time, there will be a new Czerka face consolidating Black Sun. This time though, they’ll send someone trained for military combat, and smart enough to spot any infiltration attempt we might have planned. Someone who will make Kar’wa seem like Master Shan of the Jedi Council. These people will be begging for a thug like him after a week. That is the bigger picture.”

 

“So we take him down, too. We take down every stupid flunky Czerka hires. We send them a message... by sending back their heads.”

 

Garza shot her a battle hardened look, “You’re dangerously close to crossing a line there, Captain. I understand you're frustrated, but you’re HAVOC, and HAVOC doesn’t act like some war-crazed Mandolorian Chieftain!”

 

“That’s starting to sound better and better the longer this conversation goes on!” Kiera pointed her finger at Garza. “Czerka’s a Megacorp! We make it too expensive for them to send people! Make it so dangerous, that the mercs taking this job have no choice but to increase their asking price based on the ‘loss of life’ hazard! They lose money, they’ll quit! That ‘big picture’ enough for you, you old bag?!”

 

“Cute, but no. You’re still inside the box, Captain.” The older woman stated matter-of-factly. “You underestimate Czerka’s ability to spend. Hiring noted mercs isn’t even a drop in the bucket for them. Eventually, they’ll start paying the Mandalorians to come in. Right now, it’s nothing more than a business plan, Kiera’Kian. When it becomes personal, then it becomes a secret war. The loss of life will be multiplied tenfold, because they’ll use guerrilla tactics. How many children will these parents lose then? And if things go south, Czerka can just claim these are ‘rogue elements’ in their system. Their connections in the Senate will cover for them, and Czerka walks away, untouched.”

 

“So we sit back, and watch these people suffer?! Just sit on our hands until we get concrete evidence on Czerka, while people like Tam Daral lose loved ones to these creeps?” Kiera’s tone was angry.

 

Garza rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Captain, who do you think pushed for the ‘bounty bill’, as it’s being called, to be approved? Who do you think secretly supplied the cash to Mr. Daral’s little group so they could pay a bounty in the first place? There’s no way they could afford a decent hunter on their meager salaries. The military can’t be seen getting involved. A show of might would cause Czerka to up the force of their response, and rally their supporters in the Senate to come down on us. Quite frankly, not even I have enough pull to block Czerka's pawns, especially after the favors I burned to save your career.”

 

Keira sat up and narrowed her eyes, glaring at the grey haired general. “What do you mean, you ‘saved my career’? You just demoted me, as well as put me on forced leave! How is that saving my career?! With a demotion for dereliction of duty on my record, it’ll be damn near impossible to get another promotion! Ever!”

 

“Kiera’Kian,” Garza shook her head, “you need to learn to see the difference between the fight you’re involved in, and the war you’re involved in." She smiled a crooked smile, "In that regard, you’re a lot like your father was, in his younger days.”

 

“'The General' isn’t the issue here. What exactly did you mean, you saved my career?” Kiera pressed.

 

“The Senate has been after us since before you were recruited into HAVOC, Captain. Ando Prime, the hearing after Tavus had defected, so many other things you aren’t aware of… the Senate feels we have too much autonomy. Feels we act without their discretion far too much. Those greed driven monkeys don’t even have the first clue of how to run a Spec Ops division!” Garza spat. “They’ve been trying harder and harder to rein us in, and bring us under their control.”

 

A look of shocked realization dawned on Kiera's face, “... they wanted me court marshaled. Stripped of rank and thrown in prison…”

 

Garza smiled approvingly, “Now you’re starting to see the big picture. They wanted an example made of you, a HAVOC commander. Something to give them a foothold. I had to issue a severe enough punishment to keep them at bay. I had put in for promotions for you and your brother before you took off to retrieve Lt. Dorne. Your insubordination and desertion of duties wouldn’t be chronicled until after your success with the Gauntlet operation, so the promotions went through unhind--”

 

“Wait,” Kiera looked puzzled, “there was a holocall took place before we took off to get Dorne. You were aware of me taking off to find her, before you put in for the medals.”

 

“Call? What holocall? There is no record of a holocall made close to a week and a half ago, at approximately 1430hrs, from my office. If there’s no record, then obviously, I can’t have known about it. Until your brother returned from the mission and informed me, I was unaware of your actions. So I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” The grey haired General grinned slightly, as she feigned ignorance. “As I was saying, the promotions had been approved by that time, and so technically you were a Major...” Garza paused and, uninvited, took a pull from the tequila bottle.

 

“… and since I was a Major, if you stripped me of a rank, I’d be busted back down to Captain, so I didn’t gain anything, but I didn’t lose anything.” Kiera whispered in stunned enlightenment.

 

“Captain, are you suggesting that somehow, I planned this, making it look like you had been severely reprimanded, and your career halted so that any action the Senate wanted to take would be nullified? Because I would never try to circumvent the Senate like that. It would be considered inappropriate.”

 

Kiera chuckled and shook her head, downing her shot glass. “No Ma’am. I would never suggest that my CO was involved in inappropriate behavior like that. It would be rude of me. As such, I would not need to apologize for my behavior over the past few months, since you obviously were not involved in a scheme of that nature.”

 

Garza nodded and stood up from the table. “As long as we’re clear on that. By the way, your hearing has been scheduled for the day after tomorrow, at 0800hrs. Wear your dress blues, and adhere strictly to protocol, as Supreme Commander Rans and Fleet Admiral Numinn will be present. Good night, Captain.”

 

Kiera smiled at her drink, as the grey haired General walked away.

 

Looks like someone owes her little brother an apology for doubting him. The old bag isn’t so bad after all.

 

She was half into a citrus wedge and a shot when something occurred to her, which caused her to almost cough up her alcohol. Something she had heard, but hadn’t registered during the conversation.

 

Wait a sec… how does she know 'The General', and how he used to act? He’s never mentioned anything about knowing Garza, even after we got promoted to HAVOC…

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

So I may have taken some liberty with Garza's personality here. Hopefully, I stayed pretty close to canon with her.

 

In the DSMverse, I see Garza as being the foil to Fenn'rys. She's got connections, is always three steps ahead, and like Fenn'rys, is willing to do what's necessary to get the job done. However, she's still loyal to her subordinates, sacrificing them only as the ultimate last resort, and defending them as a parent would.

 

... a really strict parent, but a parent none the less.

 

 

Edited by DarthSillyMonkey
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Comments/Replies:

 

Alaurin: One of the things I like about your Cathar characters is how much their culture is part of them. They’re not humans with fur and claws. They’re Cathar. I also like the weaving together of the various class stories.

 

Jorgan buying the dress was beautiful. A lovely gesture, I can see him doing ut.

Thank you for the lovely comment! I'm glad you like how I've portrayed my Cathar characters and Jorgan. I haven't found that much info other than what's on Wookieepedia, so I've kinda ran with that to give them their culture and society of sorts. This next piece will show a little more of that. As for Jorgan buying that dress for Mallay......I gave myself warm fuzzies with that! :D

 

 

@Elliotcat: Welcome back!!

I felt my hand shaking, and then in the blink of an eye I saw a curtain of golden hair fall to the floor.

 

I swallowed. I'd cut it to the length of my chin. For a moment I panicked, but it was too late now. In an odd sort of frenzy I hacked at my hair, chopping it short and straight. When I was done, I was surprised at how I looked - so severe, older. The scar on my face, acquired during my journey to the Republic, stood out more. My eyes looked harder and my face looked more angular. But everything about me looked stronger.

 

The new Latula wouldn't lie anymore. She would face the truth no matter how painful it was. I turned to look at my daughter.

That part was so emotional and telling.....I like how she's cut away her past with her hair and is taking a fresh start! Nicely done!

 

 

@Yoshi: What a lovely gesture, giving such a meaningful heirloom to Nadia.

 

 

@DarthSillyMonkey: I like what you've done with Garza and I see her the same way......she'd do anything to get the job done, but is very protective of her people. She's also a sly one, doing her best to punish Kiera without really changing anything.

 

 

Now for the continuation with the guys. Did Jorgan maul Balkar.......you're about to find out! :rolleyes:

 

 

Title: A Girl Like That…..

Prompt: Culture Shock maybe,

Character: Aric Jorgan, Corso Riggs, and Jonas Balkar

Setting: Thunderclap, just after the last one

Spoilers: Trooper Nar Shaddaa

 

 

“Look, it’s obvious you have something for Tia,” Jonas told the pacing Cathar, “I’ll back off…..I was mostly messing with you anyways.”

 

“It’s not that,” Aric sighed, sitting back down, “I have no business even thinking about her like that…..and neither should you, Balkar. Same goes for her sister.”

 

“Because you’re her CO,” Corso asked, “I guess there’s probably rules against that sort of thing, huh?”

 

“That’s part of it,” Aric shrugged, “There aren’t really any rules saying you can’t do that, but it’s not exactly encouraged either.”

 

“Well then,” Balkar replied, “What’s the problem?”

 

“It’s who she is,” Aric admitted, “Her family was practically royalty with our people. Bloodlines are very important in our culture and both of her parents come from very prominent clans, with Council Elders tracing back to our origins. My family was more common, working class…..soldiers.”

 

“Her father and uncle were in the SIS,” Jonas argued, “I don’t see why you or I, for that matter, wouldn’t be accepted.”

 

“As colleagues maybe,” Aric replied, “Not as someone he’d want for his daughter.”

 

“Yeah, but from some of the video feeds I’ve watched of their mother’s speeches, someone who was very popular by the way, and not just with Cathar, it sounds like they were trying to get away from some of that,” Jonas countered, looking at Aric for confirmation.

 

“Somewhat,” Aric nodded, “After our homeworld was destroyed by the Mandalorians, the few surviving Cathar were spread out across the galaxy, eventually making settlements on other planets. My ancestors settled on Rendili, others went to planets like Taris and Ord Mantell.”

 

“You would think that those few survivors wouldn’t be picky about status,” Corso spoke up, “Wouldn’t they want to…..uh….encourage any unattached members to…..well, you know….”

 

“Repopulate the species,” Jonas finished, seeing the younger man’s embarrassment.

 

“Yeah,” Corso nodded, blushing a little.

 

“You would think,” Aric shrugged, “and many of the lesser bloodlines, like mine, had that attitude and fell away from some of those old traditions. However, the older, more prominent clans, like Kat and Tia are descended from, still hung on to those beliefs and carrying on the bloodline was really big with them. Regardless of social status, in no way would another species be considered a suitable mate since they wouldn’t be able to have children, and a commoner like me wouldn’t be allowed to tarnish the precious bloodline.”

 

“I may not know either of them very well,” Jonas argued, “but neither Kat nor Tia seem to have that attitude. Look at where they’re at now…….Tia’s a soldier herself and Kat’s a Bounty Hunter!”

 

“He has a point,” Corso agreed, “Think about it…..they haven’t been part of that life for ten years and it seems to me that with everything going on with Shange’s clan, people might not feel the same anymore. Didn’t they wipe out two of the prominent bloodlines? I hate to sound callous, but maybe some of those ideas died with them.”

 

“It’s possible,” Aric replied, “Honestly, I haven’t really kept up with that stuff much. My family never really involved themselves much with the politics of our people or the Elder decisions, they were loyal to the Republic. They kept up with news and events, but that’s about it. I was barely more than a kit when Shange was making news with his views against our people joining the Republic, but I remember my parents thought he was a dangerous radical and were happy when he disappeared.”

 

“Well, you might let that that stuff deter you,” Jonas shrugged, “but I’m certainly not. Besides…..it’s not like I’m looking for anything permanent.” The agent visibly shivered at the thought, “At any rate, what do you want to do about Tia’s current situation?”

 

“I still think we should get her the hell out of there,” Aric answered, “I was in the Military Acadamy when Kat and Tia’s parents were killed and many of our people suspected Shange’s clan was behind it, especially when they wiped out another bloodline soon after. I might not have been involved with our society, but it was all over the news and what happened to those people wasn’t pretty. They’ve already tried to kill Kat once, and they’ve located Tia. Their first attempt to take her failed, but it’s only a matter of time before they try again.”

 

“On that, we agree,” Balkar nodded, “but if we’re going to extract her, we need to make it look good. If the Imperials or Tavus even suspect she went along with us, they’d probably change any plans they have in the works.”

 

“You have something in mind?” Corso asked.

 

“I do actually,” Jonas smiled, “and you’re probably not going to like it, but I got the idea from what happened last night…….we kidnap her.”

 

“And how do we do that?” Aric eyed the agent, looking thoughtful.

 

“Easy…..well sort of,” Jonas answered, “I’ll contact her, saying I want to take her out…..to make up for our time being cut short at the ball. The two of you come with me and when she answers the door, we snatch her.”

 

“I’m not sure I like this,” Corso told them, “It doesn’t feel right, especially given how adamant she was about sticking with her mission.”

 

“Would you rather Shange’s clan get her?” Aric snapped.

 

“No,” Corso shook his head, “but they’re not going to stop just because she’s with us.”

 

“No, they probably won’t,” Aric agreed, “but at least she wouldn’t be on her own and distracted with keeping her cover.”

 

“You have a point,” Corso admitted, “I still think she should have a say in it, or at least we should talk it over with her sister.”

 

“I don’t see the problem with that,” Jonas replied, “We can try to meet again this evening, but in the meantime, we can still make preparations. First thing we need to do is get the two of you on her visitor list…..I’m already on it.”

 

“You got a way to make that happen?” Aric asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the agent for his last remark.

 

“I do, but I’ll need your help,” Jonas explained, “One of my people, a slicer named Niall Piv, can hack into the casino database and get the two of you on that list. However, Niall isn’t much of a fighter and you’ll need to escort him to the Club Vertica’s security station in the Lower Industrial Sector.”

 

“Dorne and I can take care of that,” Aric assured Balkar.

 

“Good,” Jonas replied, getting up, “I’ll go talk to Niall and let him know what we need him to do. Meet us in two hours at the Republic Embassy on the Promenade.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Aric nodded, “I’ll arrange for us to meet with Kat this evening to discuss this. I’m sure Val will want to have a say as well.”

 

 

After Balkar left, Corso decided to ask something he’d been curious about, “What made you think about the bloodline thing anyways…..you didn’t seem to be concerned about it before.”

 

“Hearing her talk about her parents regularly attending high society functions like that ball last night made it hit me about who she really was,” Aric sighed.

 

“Does that change anything for you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Aric shrugged, “I mean, I still find her attractive and there might be more to it than that, but I’m not sure if I should act on it now.”

 

“For what it’s worth, and I don’t mean to offend, but I think that bloodline stuff is crap,” Corso told him, “I meant what I said earlier, Kat and Tia have been away from that life for ten years and neither of them seem the type to put much stock in it…..if they ever did.”

 

Edited by alaurin
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I read everything you posted, I liked everything, nearly missed one story, but went back to read it after I read a comment on it, and decided to skip further commenting in favor of writing at least a small story for the current prompt.

 

Prompt - Heritage and Antiques

Title - Gone

Class - BH to be (Thorns aka Nat)

Words - About 350

Spoilers - no spoilers

A few weeks after this.

 

 

Nat didn’t want to believe his eyes. It had been there yesterday! Now it was gone, the spot where it used to lie now occupied by a locket. He pressed his nose to the glass of the shop window. The reflections from the lights of the shop fronts behind him obstructed his view, so he placed his hands at the sides of his head to block them out. His gaze wandered over the mixed assortment of objects displayed in the pawn shop’s window. Chronos, jewelry, knifes, other weapons, strange coins from strange worlds, parts of other people’s lives. The ring he was looking for wasn’t there. By the dust that covered the display he could tell that the window hadn’t been redecorated. He could even see the outline of the ring in the dust where it wasn’t hidden by the locket. It was gone, his mother’s wedding band was gone.

He had wanted to buy it back one day. He had even started to save the money. But saving money was so hard. They seldom had enough to eat without putting single credits aside. Nik had argued, that mom had sold it so they didn’t have to starve and that she wouldn’t have wanted them to starve now. He was right, of course. And they wouldn’t need the ring anyway. Girls were gross. Why one would want to marry one was beyond his imagination. But his mother had stopped in front of the window every time she went down this street. He had seen her eyes fill with tears. He would have loved to see her smile when he brought the ring back home. But it was gone now, gone like her.

He nearly failed to hear the ringing of the door bell as the shopkeeper stepped out of his shop to chase him away. He took to his heels, running until he had rounded a few corners. He finally slowed down. It wouldn’t do to draw any more attention. He would have to do worse than smudging windows today, to get enough to eat. Sometimes he wished mom wasn’t watching too closely.

 

 

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Leave it to “I’m traveling with nothing on me but a pen and a $5 bill to write on” to come up with a story. 280 words, no spoilers, for Calline and her not-quite-standard T5-M7.

 

 

“They still on us?” yelled Calline from the bridge. The Boorcati Ch’at Baversco shuddered.

 

“Take a gun!” yelled Mako from one of the turrets.

 

Gault ran to do so. “I don’t suppose we’re planning on relocating to a spot with fewer Imperial fighters?” he yelled to the ship in general.

 

Calline gritted her teeth and cut another bone-rattling evasion.

 

“Now would be good!” called Mako.

 

Next to Calline, T5-M7 whistled. “T5 = counting hyperspace tomatoes”

 

“Is she beeping about vegetables?” yelled Gault.

 

“Calculating,” translated Calline, and suppressed a yelp as a laser blast forced her to throw another hard turn up.

 

“I think the ship’s navicomputer would’ve been faster,” yelled Mako.

 

The ship’s navicomputer was a cheap Aratech knockoff older than Calline herself. She grunted and kept flying.

 

“T5 = counting hyperspace tomatoes”

 

Gault coughed. “I hope she does know that, like any self-respecting career criminal, I had the computer precalculate quick jumps to the nearest hyperspace lane, and all she needs to do is update our ship’s mass and pick up the coordinates to our nearest local hub.”

 

Silence.

 

“…T5 = knew that”

 

The laser fire intensified. Calline watched her own ship’s return fire streaming across the spacescape while she flipped and ducked and wished her day was going better than this. Then, in a single beep, the astromech was ready. Calline slammed the controls and the Boorcati streaked to the safety of hyperspace.

 

The crew made their way out of the gun turrets and to the bridge. “There,” said Gault, rolling his shoulders, “that was almost painless.”

 

“Almost,” said Mako, rolling her eyes.

 

He turned his attention to Calline. “Are we going anyplace worthwhile? I’m strangely hungry for a salad.”

 

 

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First, some comments!

 

@Bright,

“Is he beeping about vegetables?” yelled Gault.

*giggles* I love T5 and his odd little quirks. But then, I have a weakness for astromechs.

 

@frauzet, Oh, that story was heartbreaking. Terrible that their mother had to give up such a precious thing; worse still to know it’s gone forever.

 

@DSM, I’ve not gotten terribly far on my trooper, but Garza definitely strikes me as the type to let certain terrible things happen for the good of the bigger picture. And for someone like Kiera, who’s the one on the ground seeing these things go on, that must be terribly frustrating.

 

@Yoshi, A lovely, thoughtful gift. And I think this is the first story I’ve read (at least in a while) with Nadia. She seems to be one of those companions you hardly ever hear about.

 

@elliotcat, This was a great story. I really liked the different versions of Latula's past; the lie and then the hard truth. The pain she carries definitely comes across.

 

@Irishfino, Quinn aiding Narithia in her subversion. I like it!

 

@alaurin, Girl, you are prolific! I need to steal some of that inspiration :D

“I’ve never seen her smile like she was when we walked in,” Aric muttered, looking a little sheepish, “I’d like to see that again and if a simple dress can do that……well, I can afford it.”

Dammit, you keep making me like Cpt. Grumpypants! Ugh, just the sweetest thing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, gentlemen,” Garza interrupted, sarcasm just dripping from the older woman’s tone as Val finally stopped laughing long enough to answer Kat’s question, “Do women oogling over men offend you? Maybe you’ll think twice before ever watching a cantina dancer again.”

Ha! That might be my favorite Garza moment yet.

“Her family was practically royalty with our people. Bloodlines are very important in our culture and both of her parents come from very prominent clans, with Council Elders tracing back to our origins. My family was more common, working class…..soldiers.”

I really like the cultural aspects you’re bringing into the story. The idea of a caste system among the Cathar is interesting.

 

 

NotLP: Family, for Ellis

Spoilers: None

 

A rare moment of solitude aboard the Elektra gave Ellis the opportunity to unwind in peace. Mel and the others disembarked for supplies and other errands that morning; a whole day of quiet had much more appeal than venturing away from the ship. Perhaps then he could finally get some work done without interference from the stoic, silent one and the red-skinned beast that fancied himself funnier than he actually was. They seemed to take turns watching him, waiting for him to live up to the promise of his family name.

 

Mel had actually asked him to come with them on the excursion, a kindness he didn’t quite understand. She was no closer to trusting him again, but she’d softened of late. Even made him tea the past couple mornings. It was impossible to hope that the woman would ever fully forgive his deceit. But to just come to an easy coexistence would be heaven enough for him. And if he could do it — if he really could save her — maybe then she’d absolve him of his sins.

 

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. If he could do it. After years of study, he was still no closer to a solution. Hell, he couldn’t even keep his own demons at bay. Every day he felt himself slipping closer and closer into the monsters’ grasp.

 

Mel’s mother spoke of the killiks as if they were mischievous children that didn’t know any better than to brainwash the poor souls unfortunate enough to stumble too close. That they meant no real harm despite the fact that they stole an entire decade of her life. But Ellis thought of them as he’d always known them: evil pests that needed to be eradicated. They were responsible for so much pain for so many people he cared for. If he had his way, he’d cure his and Mel’s affliction and wipe out the fiends in one fell swoop.

 

The doctor stewed in his anger. Behind him, the holoterminal popped to life with a buzz-hiss. He hardly noticed. Everything on the ship was ancient, and Mel refused to upgrade the technology until it was completely beyond repair. Ellis made a note to tell her about the malfunctioning holo and went back to his work.

 

“Ellis.”

 

That voice. He knew it well, and yet it had been so long. Impossibly long. He left behind the mountains of files and rushed to the holoterminal. With a quick twist of the dials, a fuzzy image came into focus. “Mother?”

 

Llyala Lokin smiled sweetly at her grown son. He had been so small the last time she’d seen him, just a boy. She barely recognized the tired-looking man in front of her. The years apart had not seemed like so many until then. “We have missed you.”

 

Ellis stepped back from the ghostly holo. She was so close. How could it possibly be real? How could she know to find him here? Why now? “You died. How—”

 

“We did? We don’t remember,” she said dryly. “We were sent away. Eckard, your father, he told us he was finished with us. That we could no longer be of use to him. He told us it was best if we returned to the hive. And so we did.”

 

“But,” Ellis’ head swam with conflicting emotions. His cheeks reddened as he thought of his father’s last days. Of how he mourned for the man who took away the only person in the galaxy who had loved him. He blinked back tears, wondering why it had been so easy for her to go. “You just left?”

 

“He told us you were to attend university. You wouldn’t need us anymore. We didn’t want to become a nuisance to anyone.”

 

“You’re my mother.” His voice trembled, and he sank to his knees in front of the holo as if worshipping at the foot of an old, cherished god. “You could never—”

 

“Shhhh. It’s alright.” Llyala watched her son, so broken and small in front of her, with interest. Almost close enough to touch, to comfort. She remembered the boy he used to be, the frightened child who longed for his father’s love, who didn’t understand why the man held him at arm’s length. Oh, how he used to cry after the tests. It was the loneliness that always got to him. Days and days of quarantine every time Eckard thought he’d had a breakthrough. It took weeks to get the boy to sleep without nightmares each time he was returned to her. She wondered if he ever outgrew them.

 

Her fingers reached out to him, but they only cut through the hazy image. “We need to see you, Ellis. We’ve been searching for you for a while now.”

 

It was more than he could have dreamed, this living ghost standing in front of him. Talking to him. Bidding him to come home. He scrambled to his feet, smoothed the messy locks of hair that had grown unruly over the past few months. “Wh-where are you? I’ll leave today.”

 

“We’ll send you the coordinates. Please, Ellis. Come as soon as you can.”

 

“Of course, mother. Just- just don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there soon. I promise.”

 

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YoshiRalphElan: Gareb’s gift must be precious for him. Jedi are supposed to have no families or possessions. Giving Nadia something so connected to both is special indeed.

 

Alaurin: The lack of “official” culture is part of why I like your exploration of it. There’s nothing contradicting canon sources and you’re internally consistent. Murghir, a throwaway in the BH line, become significant, as does Shange. Within that framework, it makes sense that Aric is conflicted for a whole number of reasons. It really adds depth to his character.

 

DarthSillyMonkey: One thing Garza knows how to do is how to play the political game, especially manipulating the senate. Kiera’s anger is understandable, and so is Garza’s. You make it clear they both are sure they’re doing the right thing and approaching the problem in the best way.

 

Bright: T5=adorable. I almost suggested “Language” as a prompt and I had T5’s nonstandard droid language in mind. Plus Gault’s constant contingency planning. Love it!

 

Frauzet: So sad. Thorns looking through the window and wanting the ring to be there. You can almost feel hope draining away.

 

Marissalf: More ghosts. This is an interesting turn of events, I’m curious to see where it goes.

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Do we have a "Choices" prompt? I couldn't find one. In any case...

 

Prompt - I Love This Bar

Title - Making a Choice, Pt. 1

Class - Sith Warrior

Takes place somewhere during Act 2, probably immediately following Hoth, no spoilers

 

 

Methic walked into the Nexus Room cantina, clad in a stylish blue-and-gold jacket. After his latest mission, he needed some time to relax and celebrate. The Nexus Room was the best place to do it. Vette and Jaesa came in behind him. Vette was clad in a one-piece black evening gown that was scandalously short; Methic had seen undergarments that covered more leg. Jaesa, on the other hand, wore a full red floor-length dress, but it was tight in all the right places and her top was so low-cut it might as well have been a corset.

 

The song playing over the Nexus Room's speakers ended, and a new one began. Vette and Jaesa both squealed in delight and moved toward the dance floor, dragging Methic with them.

 

"I love this song, Master!" Jaesa said over the music. "Dance with me!"

 

"No, he's dancing with me!" Vette replied, and without waiting for response she pulled Methic toward her.

 

Vette began dancing in time with the music, gyrating her hips in tight circles. She did several pirouettes and resumed her dancing, bopping her hips side to side. Methic, watching her, decided that she was a credit to her species; the natural dancing talent that the Twi'leks were famed for definitely existed in Vette. Her lekku began to twitch along with the song, and by the time the song reached its final verse, the lekku were quivering in pure ecstasy.

 

An annoyed Jaesa grabbed Methic by the arm and dragged him back over to her. By that time the song had ended, and now a more primitive song that was almost completely drumbeat began playing. Jaesa grinned and began twirling her hips and bouncing her chest in beat to the song. Watching her move, Methic wondered if she could even have undergarments on, given the tightness of her outfit. Deciding she couldn't, and realizing he didn't like where his train of thought was headed, he politely excused himself to get a drink.

 

What the kriff is going on? he wondered.

 

 

Prompt - Goals and Ambitions

Title - Making a Choice, Pt. 2

Class - Sith Warrior

No spoilers

 

 

It was five hours later, one A.M., when they finally returned to the Fury. It was much later than Methic had wanted to stay out, but as the night had dragged on Vette and Jaesa had tried more and more furiously to attract his attention, and both had refused to leave. Finally, they relented and returned to the ship. As soon as they did, they returned to their respective quarters, leaving Methic standing in the middle of the main hold in confusion.

 

What in the world had happened that night?

 

Deciding to end the confusion once and for all, Methic strode quickly to Jaesa's quarters and, seeing the privacy lock was not on, slid the door open–to see her finish strapping on her bra. Embarrassed, he turned and tried to scrambled out the door.

 

"No, wait!" Jaesa exclaimed, a bit of panic in her voice. "I mean–" her voice turned sultry, "I don't mind. I have nothing to hide, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Come in, Master."

 

Methic reluctantly walked in. Jaesa, standing in the middle of the room, had made no attempt to cover up; clad only in her underwear and bra, she stood with her hands on her hips.

 

"What did you come for, Master?"

 

"I came," Methic said, "to find out what you were doing tonight, at the Nexus Room."

 

"Oh, that?" Jaesa grinned and took a step toward him. "I have discovered something. I love you, Master. I want to be with you."

 

Methic sighed and closed his eyes. Jaesa didn't love him. He knew what was happening; they'd been going into battle together for months now, fighting side by side and forming a bond that was closer than most. Since Jaesa had only ever been close to Nomen Karr before, she naturally mistook that kind of a relationship, with a man close to her age, for love, and reacted accordingly.

 

"Jaesa, you're not in love with me," Methic said. "You're–"

 

"Yes, I am," she insisted, reaching out to grab his bicep. She rubbed her hand along the muscle and fairly cooed in delight. "So firm," she said. She pressed her breasts close to his body. "Do you find me firm, too, Master?"

 

Methic sighed. "Jaesa. Listen to me. There's only one way to tell if you really love me. We will go out. On a few conditions: you are fully clothed, you sit at least several centimeters away from me, and you talk to me instead of trying to seduce me. If you really do still think you love me, I'll consider it."

 

Jaesa nodded. "Very well, Master."

 

Satisfied, Methic turned and left her room, returning to his own...to find Vette, equally scantily-clad as Jaesa had been sprawled on his bed. Methic groaned and slammed his head into the doorjamb.

 

"I need a shower," he grumbled.

 

 

 

At this point in time, Vette and Methic have established a mutual attraction for each other, but are not in a relationship. And yes, this is Light Jaesa.

 

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Prompt - Guilty Pleasures

Title - Secret Stash

Class - Sith Warrior

No spoilers

 

 

Quinn knocked on Methic's door. "M'Lord?"

 

"You may enter," replied Methic's voice.

 

Quinn hit the button and walked in the door. Methic sat reclining on his bed with a datapad flashing colorful images in his hand. Frowning, Quinn walked over and stood over the Sith. Methic did not look up from his datapad. Finally, he sighed, pressed pause, and threw the datapad down on the bed beside him. Quinn caught a glimpse of the image on the screen–

 

"M'Lord, what is that?"

 

"Comics," Methic said with a smile. "I read comics."

 

Quinn hesitated. "Uh. Yes, M'Lord." He frowned. "Comics, M'Lord...featuring women dressed like that? It strikes me as uncomfortably impractical for combat."

 

Methic chuckled. "That's Lady Marvelous. She's blaster-proof; she doesn't need to dress practically. Besides, it's a comic."

 

"Yes, M'Lord, but it's not practical! What's the fun of reading it if it's not–" he paused. "Who is that?"

 

Methic grinned. "That's Ma'em Snow. She's a Sith Lord who can travel through time."

 

Quinn's eyes traced over the expert drawing of Snow's figure. "Well...perhaps comics can be fun." He plopped down on the bed beside Methic. "Where should I start?"

 

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Taking from the last prompt or thereabouts:

 

@Yoshi, I love Methic’s consternation at the ladies of the crew. What a pair of questions…well, offers…to have to answer on the spot. Meanwhile, by my records your Nadia story is the fifth in the history of the thread to give Nadia a spoken line (and probably less than tenth to show her at all). And yay, comics fans!

 

@marissalf, I realize there’s a parade of unreliable narrators in this story, but I can so see Doctor Lokin summarily dismissing someone who can no longer advance his interests. We’ll see what trouble Ellis gets into now.

 

@frauzet, your story of Nat and the ring is heartbreaking. The note at the end about hoping his mother wasn’t watching too closely…ouch. Nice short, evocative piece.

 

@alaurin, why do I feel that catnapping isn’t going to end well for the would-be catnappers? Well, we’ll see how the Trooper’s plot progresses…

 

@DarthSillyMonkey, Garza lays out the big picture. It’s sort of a maddening big picture, but it is what it is and she was never the type to shed tears about the situation in front of her.

 

@elliotcat, wonderful to hear from you! Latula’s intense awareness of all the social markers about her verges on the painful. Then again, she’s always been forced to watch these matters of status and usefulness.

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Today I’ve got a trio, two of which qualify as shorts. A prompt coming from a brain that isn’t mine seems to work wonders!

 

Heirlooms for the Ruth!verse’s Rylon Niral, Ruth and Quinn’s son. 350 words, spoilers for the end of Ruth Means Compassion (it occurs between RMC and the next major arc). Game spoiler for the Sith Warrior’s Act 3 antagonist.

 

August, 28 ATC – 17 years after the confirmation of the Wrath

 

the planet Arrend

 

 

“Dad?”

 

Rylon had withdrawn after his mother’s death. In the absence of a remedy for it Quinn had little choice but to entrust him to Jaesa’s tutelage – Rylon’s own idea – and return himself to work. Now, as he had for all of Rylon’s life, he visited when he could and spent the rest of his days fulfilling his duties.

 

“Can I ask you something?” They were in Rylon’s dormitory on Arrend, and the boy slouched as he spoke.

 

“Go on,” said Quinn.

 

“What did you do with Mom’s lightsabers?”

 

He had nearly burned them with her in the end. Only the ingrained abhorrence of waste stopped him. There was still one Sith worthy of wielding her weapons, and one youth who might take comfort in them. “I’ve saved them,” he said.

 

“Can I have one?”

 

“You can have both, if you wish.”

 

“I wouldn’t really use two. Can you bring me the one she took from Darth Baras? I want the one she beat him for.”

 

The one representing her personal victory. The other she had used was the one that had belonged to her father, and his father, and his father before him. Rylon Niral was of a proud legacy. He didn’t see the significance now. He liked the flash; he didn’t yet appreciate the continuity. He would, in time. Until then Quinn could hold it in trust. “I’ll bring it the next time we meet.”

 

“Thanks.” Rylon half turned away. “You know, you could keep the other one with you. She wouldn’t mind.”

 

A Force-blind couldn’t very well be seen wearing a lightsaber. Still, Quinn knew he could at least keep it among his personal effects. Not a tool to be used, but a reminder. Something he could keep with him when the best but hardest to face reminder was away. Something Ruth had fought to reclaim from a troubled history, something she had made a part of her.

 

Maybe Rylon understood after all.

 

The youth picked his satchel up from where it rested by the door. “I’ve gotta get to class,” he said, looking at the floor. “See you later.”

 

Quinn couldn’t think of anything to say except “Farewell.” His son was already out the door.

 

Note:

This is a story about love. I don’t have enough father-child moments…something about how I’m always killing or banishing parental units.

 

 

Heirlooms with young Wynston and his Intelligence partner Bas Ravni (early career, a couple of years into the cold war). They’re usually all business. Well, business and drinks. Anyway…900 words, no spoilers.

 

 

The explosions in the city were those of weakened superstructure snapping and secondary ignitions blowing away the remaining reserves of gas and plasma. The bombing itself had stopped hours ago. It was, according to predictions, the last run.

 

Wynston and Bas Ravni had had only partial success in their mission. By some measures they were lucky to get out with their lives. By others, they had just pulled off something so mediocre as to count as a failure. It left them both grim; they only really got along when they were succeeding.

 

They stayed out of on their way back to the speeder pad. Once they reached their ship they could talk strategy, figure out how best to salvage or at least spin matters to advantage. Until then, Wynston just wanted to be off this smoking slice of hell. Bas gave off much the same vibe.

 

They reached a road clear enough of debris to force some movement in the open. Wynston and Bas took a thorough look around. The only living thing in sight was a young dark-haired boy, seated on the curb, crying.

 

Bas looked at Wynston.

 

Wynston looked at Bas.

 

“We don’t have time,” they said together.

 

Wynston looked at Bas.

 

Bas looked at Wynston.

 

“He’s just a child,” said Bas.

 

“We can just get him to the relief workers,” said Wynston.

 

“If we’re quick about it,” said Bas.

 

“It doesn’t have to go on the after action report.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Bas started down the dustblown street to where the child sat.

 

Wynston moved alongside, slowly so as not to frighten the child. Not that he seemed to notice. Wynston squatted before him. “Hello.”

 

The boy squalled and kept on crying.

 

Bas knelt to one side. “It’s okay,” she said. “Sh-sh, it’s okay.”

 

“What’s your name?” said Wynston.

 

“Look it up,” mouthed Bas.

 

Wynston commenced a wrist-console scan.

 

“It isn’t safe here,” said Bas. “We can find some people to help.”

 

The boy looked up. His face was puffed and reddened by tears. “Don’t wanna go,” he mumbled.

 

The files came up: the boy was a resident of the city. His local family was all confirmed dead already. At least Wynston could get his name.

 

“Rennick,” said Wynston. “You should come with us, to someplace safe.”

 

Rennick locked his dark eyes on Wynston. “I want my mum.”

 

“I can’t bring you to her. But come with me, we’ll get you a meal and some shelter.”

 

“Come here, honey.” Bas, in a glow of warmth Wynston had never seen from her, drew the boy into her arms and hugged him tight. She caught Wynston’s eye over Rennick’s shoulder. “Move,” she mouthed.

 

He rushed here and there to monitor their surroundings while Bas carried Rennick on her hip. He briefly wondered whether the pale dust made as eerie a contrast with his blue hair as with Bas’s black. It wasn’t a good look for her. Up and down over hills and broken pavement, around wrecked buildings. If Rennick noticed the human-sized shapes strewn around the ruined landscape he didn’t say anything. That was for the best.

 

The line to the relief tent straggled on for minutes, possibly close to hours. Wynston and Bas took up their stations in line with Rennick between them.

 

“Is Mum up there?” said Rennick.

 

“Your mother…isn’t coming back, Rennick.” The boy’s face was squinching up. “But,” Wynston said hurriedly, “I talked to her before…before I had to go.”

 

The boy scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. “How come?”

 

“She was out trying to help people. Hold on.” Wynston searched in his jacket for a few seconds and produced a palm-sized red-phobium medallion etched with some stylized animal. “She gave this to me to give to you. Do you recognize it?”

 

The boy sniffled. “No.”

 

“She said it’s been in her family for a long time. She always meant to give it to you when you were old enough. I suppose…you can take care of it now.”

 

Rennick accepted the medallion, clutching it in pudgy hands. He turned it over and over, too fascinated to keep crying for the time being. The line shuffled on and Rennick moved with it. The soldier handling paperwork got ever closer.

 

“I think we can leave you in good hands,” said Wynston. “You hang on, all right?”

 

Rennick nodded, clutching the medallion to his chest.

 

“Be a good boy,” said Bas. She looked to the weary soldier. “You take care of our Rennick, all right?”

 

“The hell are you?” said the soldier, eyeing their streamlined outfits and relative cleanliness.

 

“That’s not important. You just look after him.” Wynston squeezed Rennick’s shoulder. It was goodbye enough.

 

Bas broke the silence on the way out. “What was that all about?”

 

“What was what?”

 

Bas crossed her arms and grinned down at him. “Maybe a kid doesn’t know when you’re lying, but I do.”

 

It was the one success of the day. It might even last long enough to be helpful. Wynston shrugged. “I saw it on the ground while we were evacuating. I thought it might do him some good.”

 

“And the real owners?”

 

Wynston clenched his jaw and looked around. “Somehow I doubt they’re coming to claim it.”

 

Her full lips curved up. “You softie.”

 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” They were professionals, and shouldn’t get comfortable as anything else. They both knew it. “This was your idea, Bas.”

 

“You were right there with me, Wynston. I thought you only played the numbers game.”

 

That was the tricky thing. “One is a number.”

 

 

 

 

Heirlooms with Mama Savins, way over in the long-neglected Vierce!verse. 400 words, no spoilers.

 

 

The master bedroom of the Savins house in West Ford City was small and spare. A bed, a chest, a vanity, a wardrobe, a patterned wall hanging, all of them well-made and old. Elara Dorne was used to austerity. By contrast this kind of simplicity seemed warm and snug.

 

Elara’s soon-to-be mother-in-law invited her to sit on the bed; then the greying woman unpacked the chest at the bed’s foot just enough to uncover a tiered and mirrored jewelry box. She set it on the fluffy comforter and then sat opposite Elara, leaning in to push the box open.

 

“These are lovely.” Elara passed a hand over the collection without touching anything. There wasn’t a lot, nothing so extravagant as flamegems or Coruscas, but the collection was clearly curated by someone with elegant taste. Earrings, chokers, pendants, bracelets, rings, even a couple of brooches. Elara found herself running fingertips over a chain of white pearls. “Oh, these are beautiful!”

 

“Try them on,” urged Mrs. Savins.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“If you like them. Go on.”

 

Tentatively Elara took up the necklace, weighed it in her hand, examined the clasp, then secured the strand around her neck. It fell just to her collarbone, comfortable and cool.

 

“Oh, they look fine on you.” Mrs. Savins was beaming in the mirror. “I’d like you to keep them.”

 

“Oh, Mrs. Savins. I couldn’t.”

 

The older woman dimpled. “Please. I got them from my mother, and…well. At my age it’s safe to say the only daughter I’ll ever have is -in-law. That means this is for you. Besides, I never wear fancy things.” She looked to the mirror and waited for Elara to meet her reflection’s eyes. “Won’t Vierce think you’re a vision?”

 

What did Vierce think of formal clothes? She had never had occasion to find out. Then again it was hard to imagine he’d be unhappy. As long as someone else was doing the dressing-up, anyway. “I could save these for the day of,” she said. “I think they’ll go nicely with my dress.”

 

“No doubt they will, dear. And anything else you like here is yours.”

 

She could gladly take the whole package: room, home, and family. Everything Vierce offered without realizing just how much he and his had to give. Elara disciplined her voice to steadiness, barely. “Thank you.”

 

 

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@bright, three great pieces! Rylon wanting his mom's lightsaber was awesome, Wynston helping the child was great, and Elara getting Mama Savins' pearls was sweet! :)

 

Also, may I just say that the inspirational part of my brain is on fire right now; I've got another one!

 

Prompt - Heritage and Antiques

Title - Hard as Steel

Class - Bounty Hunter

Spoilers for Taris BH storyline

 

 

Dha finished pulling his gauntlet back on; he'd stripped off and cleaned every section of his armor, and now he was done except for his helmet. Picking up the gunmetal bucket, he began sc****** the Tarisian grime off with a rag, leaving the scratches and dents; they were honor marks, now. Dha and the others were on their way to Quesh and Jicoln Cadera was on his way to fertilizing new plant life on Taris.

 

Torian walked up to Dha's quarters and stopped outside the door, rapping once on the jamb. Dha looked up and jerked his head, signaling permission to enter. Torian walked in and stood stiffly beside Dha, watching him clean his helmet in silence. Finally, he summoned the courage to speak.

 

"Where'd you get the buy'ce?" he asked, referring to Dha's helmet. "It's a Neo-Crusader model; those things have been out of service for the better part of 300 years."

 

Dha stopped cleaning and looked up at Torian. "I know what you're expecting, kid. Family heirloom, some great piece of armor worn by one of the great champions of the Mandalorian Wars, passed down from generation to generation until it finally came to me. Right?"

 

Torian shuffled his feet. "Uh...yeah, kind of."

 

"Sorry, kid. Wish I could tell you that. I wish it was something like that. But it's not." He put the helmet aside for a moment and stood to look Torian in the eyes. "It's salvage. Bought it on the black market on Nar Shaddaa. Along with all of my armor, though I've replaced bits and pieces." He gestured to the suit he wore. "I was dishonored, Torian. Got kicked out of the clans and left my armor behind. When Braden summoned me for the Great Hunt, I wanted to hunt as a Mandalorian again, wanted to rejoin the clans in honor...so I used what credits I had to buy up what beskar'gam I could find."

 

Torian frowned. "Oh."

 

Dha grinned and patted Torian on the arm. "Yeah, 'oh.' I wish I had a family history better than yours Torian, but I don't. I'll tell you about it sometime, but basically my family was killed and I'm the only one still alive that I know of right now." He paused. "What about you, kid? Anything you wear a family heirloom?"

 

Torian nodded curtly. "Yeah. When I killed Jicoln I took his gauntlets." His lips curled wryly. "I still need a good buy'ce, though. Jogo and the others wouldn't let me have one since I was arue'tal."

 

"Don't worry, kid. We'll get you one. Soon as we finish our Quesh hunt we'll have enough credits to have Mandalore's smiths craft you...and me...proper helmets, ones that are ours." He gestured to the battered, dirty helmet on the side table. "And that goes on the trophy shelf."

 

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Replies!

 

 

@irishfino, Quinn is such a priss.

I would hate to take that man shopping. He'd pick anything grey, I just know it.

 

@Irish: Oh, that was a dirty trick.....hehe![

Quinn is always plotting ways to irritate people, lol.

 

Irishfino: “They leave everything to the imagination” indeed. Quinn, sneaky? Never! Very cute piece.

And, this time, his mission may be a success. XD

 

@Irishfino, Quinn aiding Narithia in her subversion. I like it!

Quinn likes Nari because Jedi kidnapped and turned into a Sith reminds him of Jaesa. Also, Gelt likes her, so he put forth an effort.

 

Thanks for reading everyone!

 

 

 

Prompt: Heritage and Antiques

Characters: Geltie and Narithia (who belongs to MilaniGrey)

 

More Than Us

 

 

“It was my mum’s.”

 

It was the simplest thing in the Galaxy. Four words that, on their own, meant nothing, but strung together meant everything to him. All of his pain coalesced into those four words, rending his soul asunder and throwing what remained to the wind.

 

He refused to bare himself to this Galaxy, but to her he had no choice. He couldn’t stop himself.

 

“It –” she started.

 

“No. She was like you,” he said quickly. “Please, Nari.”

 

“It’s an honor.”

 

He tried to hide the shaking in his hands as he handed over the simple silver, double-bladed lightsaber hilt to its new owner. He tried to hide the moisture gathering in his eyes.

 

“There’s no crystal,” he said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice and failing. “It crumbled when she died.”

 

“Occulus –”

 

“Geltie.”

 

“Geltie, I will treasure this. Always.”

 

He nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break with emotion.

 

 

Edited by irishfino
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This is what I get for getting wrapped up reading stories posted in the Fan Fiction here. Behind on comments, replies and writing.

 

Part 4 of the story I started.

Trooper

No Spoilers

About 2700 words

 

 

Elara knew something was wrong even dead asleep. She had become accustomed to her husband’s presence in the bed next to her. “He must be on the edge of his side of the bed.” She thought sub conscientiously. He called her a heater and for a big guy like her husband who hot natured to begin with, snuggling wasn’t much of an option. Especially after…..”mmmm” she thought dreamily. She scooted toward his side of the bed.

 

She frowned when as she went to drape her arm over him, he wasn’t there. Then her arm felt the edge of the bed. Her eyes jerked open and she remembered just where they were. She was immediately alert when she thought she heard something outside. She rolled back toward her side of the bed, reaching under her pillow as she rolled passed it and rolled out of bed and onto the floor ending in a crouched position, back against the wall, pistol at a high port.

 

The first thing she noticed was Voslic standing a few meters away with his back against the same wall. He had a blast rifle held at low port and was cautiously looking through thru the blinds. She glanced at the chono on the wall to note the time. She listened intently before moving again.

 

Slowly, she stood and carefully stepped up to the opposite side of the window from Voslic. She looked at him intently and arched her eyebrows. He slowly shook his head and continued to watch out the window. Elara moved her face close to the window and began scanning the darkness outside. Movement at the office door brought her attention back to the interior.

 

Aric stood at the edge of the doorway armed and armored. Voslic looked toward the exec questioningly. Aric said nothing but signaled (3) three with his fingers and pointed up meaning Yuun had gained access to the roof. Each member of Havoc was assigned a number. Elara watched as Jorgen then signaled (2) two and slashed his hand flat in front of him; Tanno was unaccounted for.

 

Elara went back to watching the sector that she could see. The moonless night didn’t help. She could see shadows and vague outlines of what she knew were buildings and more shadows. She kept her eyes moving, not settling on one area or object. “If you do that,” she remembered Voslic telling her one night during a training op, “eventually, what you’re staring at will move.”

 

“If you see something, don’t look directly at it.” She was repeating to herself when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Not really movement she thought. No, more the shifting of a shadow. The glanced around the area she thought she had seen something. This time she saw it.

 

“Movement one o’clock.” She quietly spoke.

 

Voslic glanced at her. “Switch.”

 

Elara smoothly crouched and duck-walked to the other side of the window. Voslic stepped away from the wall and ghosted to where Elara had been. “Alley at one o’clock, second deck.” She said as they changed positions.

 

“Got it. Jorgen, what has M1 got?”

 

“Wait one.” Jorgen spoke quietly into his tact mic and waited for a minute. “Skipper, we got at least two teams moving around out there, plus two singles. M1 thinks one of the singles is Tanno.”

 

“Roger that. Switch with Elara so she can get dressed. Elara, armed and armored. Hurry up.”

 

Elara blushed. She realized she had rolled out of bed naked. Somewhat of a relief was that Voslic was in the same state. She moved as Aric came in took up position where Elara had been. Her blush worsened as Aric gave her a knowing look.

 

She quickly dressed and snapped up a rifle. She moved behind her husband and tapped him on the shoulder. Voslic moved away and got himself armored up. He was just about to go toward the main hall when a flash of light took them all by surprise. He turned back and joined Aric and Elara at the window.

 

“Lightsaber.” Aric whispered harshly. “Twelve o’clock.”

 

“Orange blade. Looks to be attacking multiple targets.” Elara replied.

 

“Jedi?” Aric asked.

 

Voslic shook his head. “Ever known a Jedi to use an orange blade? M1, what’s going on out there?”

 

“Sir, one group I designated Herf Besh (Hostile B) has ceased to exist. One of the single targets I was tracking, designated Usk Aurek (Unknown A), merged with Besh just before they ceased to exist. Group designated Herf Aurek is moving back to originating area. Single designated Forn Aurek (Friendly A) is moving this way.”

 

“Yuun confirms Forn Aurek is Tanno Vik. He approaches in the front hatch now.” The Gand reported from the roof.

 

Tanno slipped in the door a few seconds later. He walked into the C.O.’s office and sat down. “It is way to karking bat **** crazy out there.”

 

“M1, status?”

 

“All clear for the time being. I have lost Herf Aurek but continue to track Usk Aurek. Target is moving away toward the last known position of Herf Aurek.”

 

Voslic’s brow creased. “OK Tanno, chapter and verse.”

 

“OK, went and found a card game like you suggested. Some guys from the 124th Ranger Battalion, 3rd RID (Republic Infantry Division). Some good guys there Skipper, mostly Corellian. Anyway, they’ve been here a month and they are bored. They haven’t seen a day of training, at least none organized by the cadre here at the fort. They’ve seen other units training.” Vik looked at the desk and then to Voslic. “Wouldn’t happen to have anything in that desk that a poor young Republic Jarhead could fight off a powerful thirst with, would you Skipper?”

 

Voslic shook his head then opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of Corellian whiskey. He poured Tanno a shot and passed the glass to him. Vik downed it quick and smacked his lips. “Much obliged Skipper.”

 

Voslic waved it off. “You were saying?”

 

“Yeah, so these guys said it was the damnedst thing. They’ve tried to interact with these other units but they won’t have anything to do with them. Said they aint heard them say word one. It’s like there are four or five units of mutes out there. There’s one other unit here in the same boat as the 124th.”

 

Aric stood watching the front hatch just outside the office. “What happened after the card game?”

 

“OK, that’s when everything went bat **** crazy. I’m leaving their barracks when a couple buildings over I see this robed individual skirting in and out of the shadows. I make to follow and see what they’re up to right? Well, I lost him/her/it after a few minutes but they were headed this way. Behind me, I heard a bunch of noise like armored infantry trying to be sneaky. Moved worse than a nerf through a timber stand. So I doubled back. Came across this group also headed this way in plain armor. No marking, nothing. I figure to follow them a little ways and find out what’s up.”

 

Vik sat back and stared at the overhead for a moment. He looked like he was trying to puzzle something out. “We were about half way back, when I felt something moving. I fell back into some deep shadows and, Skipper, I swear that was the first drink I’ve had since the cantina, I saw a figure, in dark heavy armor jump across the alley above me. Then I saw an orange glow and heard what sounded like a saber.”

 

“Could it have been your robed friend?” Aric asked.

 

“No. Taller and bulkier. Didn’t move the same way.”

 

Voslic gave an impatient wave of his hand. “And then?”

 

“Well Boss, I skidaddled back here. I could hear another group moving around to the north of me and I figured if I didn’t get a move on, I was gonna get myself cut off. Then yall wouldn’t have all this valuable intel that’s probably worth at least another shot of that fine Corellian sippin whiskey.”

 

Voslic ignored Vik and stood, arms crossed staring at the table. After a few minutes Aric spoke up. “Orders sir?”

Voslic glanced at his chrono. “OK, it’s 0110. I want a fire watch for the rest of the evening along with M1. Elara, you and Yuun take the first watch. Aric, you and Vik relieve them at 0300. Get what sleep you can.” He turned and went back to the bedroom. He unbuckled his chest armor and placed it neatly by the rack then rolled into bed. He wasn’t surprised when Elara followed Aric into the room.

 

“What do you think is going on here Skipper?” Aric asked when the door was secured.

 

“I don’t know, but I think we need to scramble some back up. This is looking very bad.”

 

Elara sat on the edge of the bed. “Is that a Sith operating here on a Republic base?”

 

“It would appear so. Tanno’s description of dark heavy armor would fit the profile wouldn’t it?”

 

Aric growled low in his throat. “But to what end?”

 

“I guess we need to find out.”

 

The rest of the night passed without incident. Havoc fell out the next morning at 0500 for PT. After the daily seven and a five klick (kilometer) run, Voslic showered, dressed in a fresh uniform and headed over to the headquarters. He had sent the rest of the team over to the cantina to try and get morning chow since they were not welcomed in the mess hall.

 

Voslic mounted the steps and entered the building. He moved down the main corridor to the base commander’s office. He half expected the man not to be in until 0900 or so and surprised when he entered the office and found the C.O.’s orderly behind his desk. He was about to ask to see the C.O. when the colonel stepped out of his office.

 

“Ah, Major Halyard. Come in and have a seat. Jenks, would you be kind enough to bring caf in for the Major and I?”

 

The orderly stood from behind his desk. “Of course sir.” Then turning his attention to Voslic asked, “Cream and sugar sir?”

 

Voslic was a bit taken back by the change in attitude. “Uh, plain, thanks.”

 

The colonel waved Voslic into his office. “Come in Major. Please have a seat.”

 

Voslic sat cautiously eying the colonel suspiciously as he did. If the colonel noticed he didn’t let on.

 

“So Major, I understand this isn’t your first tour here. Some time ago against the Separatists, correct?” He didn’t wait for Voslic to answer before continuing. “I got here just as that campaign was winding down. Didn’t see much action except for a couple minor engagements.”

 

“Yes sir. Myself and Captain Jorgen both served here together.”

 

“The Cathar? Good officer is he?”

 

“One of the finest I’ve served with.”

 

The office door opened and Jenks, the colonels orderly stepped inside carrying a tray with two cups and a carafe. He set the tray on the corner of the colonel’s desk and looked at the colonel askance. “That will be all Jenks. I think the Major and I can pour our own caf. And hold my calls for the time being please.”

 

The orderly nodded once and left the office. Voslic stood and poured himself a cup and sat back down. He waited for the colonel to pour his cup and seat himself in the chair next to Voslic. They both sat silently for a few moments enjoying the rich taste of the caf. Finally the colonel put his cup on the desk and faced Voslic.

 

“Major, I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot the other evening. I wish to apologize for the way myself and some of my staff reacted and treated you and yours. Petty service rivalries should not stand in the way of such a gracious offer by Special Forces Command to send one of the finest combat units in the Republic military to assist in training our fine young men and women. Major, no, Voslic, I’m truly sorry.”

 

Voslic sat and thought about what the colonel had just said. It was quite a turnaround from the other evening and had taken Voslic completely by surprise. He hoped that the shock he felt had not shown on his face. “That’s appreciated Sir. Havoc was feeling mighty unwelcomed.”

 

The colonel nodded. “I understand that. Anyway, hopefully we can put that behind us and move forward. Now, I was going to call you over this morning for just this purpose but I exit my office to find you already here. Something on your mind?”

 

“Yes sir, a few things. We were sent here to instruct, but we’ve seen no training requests. Your orders about our uniforms, well we don’t have a lot of our issue with us. And finally, there have been some odd things happening since we got here.”

 

“The training requests we have and I’ll ensure that the S-3 shop (Operations and Training) get those requests out to you this morning. I’ll rescind my uniform order for your troops. As for odd things going on around here, what has struck you as odd?”

 

“Voslic took a sip from his cup to give himself time to frame his response. “Well sir, officers transferring without much notice, a few of the units here not interacting with other training units and then there was an incident last night.”

 

The colonel frowned. “Last night?”

 

“Yes sir. Seems there was a good bit of troop movement last night or early this morning. Put us on edge.”

 

The colonel smiled and nodded his head. “Training ops last night, I assure you. MOUT (Military Operation in Urban Terrain) training, nothing more. The units you speak of are Republic Army Special Forces on joint training as one unit. They are under orders to keep to themselves. And Major, as I’m sure you will understand, we have many officers in and out of here on a regular basis. Needs of the service and all that.”

 

“Yes sir.” Everything the colonel had said made sense. Voslic couldn’t help feeling that the explanations fit too well.

 

“Splendid. Is there anything else I can help you with Voslic?”

 

“Yes sir, there is one other thing. If I could use the base holocom to call my parent command. I was instructed to check in from time to time and I also need to check with our S-1 (Personnel) on a temporary replacement for my corpsman.”

 

The colonel’s eyebrows lifted. “What’s the problem with your medic?”

 

“She’s pregnant sir. Soon, especially if we were to go operational, I’d need a replacement for her.”

 

“I see.” The colonel seemed ready to grill Voslic about is pregnant corpsman but then seemed to think better of it. “Unfortunately Major, our transmitter is down. Not sure how it will take to get it fixed.”

 

“Then I’ll need permission to head off planet to the station so I can use the holocom on my ship.”

 

The colonel sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of all types of ill tidings this morning Major. Your ship was commandeered for another mission.” He noticed the storm gathering on Vosic’s face and quickly added. “Oh it will be returned to you as soon as possible. Needs of the service, Voslic and we needed it for a specific mission.”

 

Voslic stood abruptly startling the colonel. “If that is all sir, I need to get back to my folks.”

 

The colonel stood and offered his had to Voslic. “Of course Voslic. No hard feelings?”

 

Voslic shook the man’s hand. “Of course not sir.” Voslic hoped it didn’t sound as forced as it was. “Thank you for your time and caf sir.”

 

“Don’t mention it. My door is open to you at all times.”

 

Voslic left the headquarters and made his way back to the barracks. He was lost in thought until he opened to the hatch to go inside. The noise and general bedlam told him something bad had happened.

 

 

 

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Yeah Yoshi, suspicious is one way to put it.

 

Next installment

Part 5

 

 

 

Voslic walked into the barracks and into a **** storm. His jaw clenched at the scene arrayed before him. M1 was literally backed into a corner with two Republic techs standing in front of him. His shoulder cannon held one tech in place while the other stayed out of reach from the droids massive left arm. Two other techs stood between them and the rest of Havoc. Both stood with one hand resting on blasters and one hand out toward Havoc as if to ward them and their protests off.

 

As for the members of Havoc, Tanno and Yuun stood on either flank, poised to move in if the situation went further south than it appeared to have gone. Jorgen stood in the middle, seemingly staring down the two techs facing him simultaneously. Elara stood behind and to Jorgen’s right. Threats, curses and regulations (supplied by Elara of course) flew back and forth between the two groups. What made matters worse was that both sides appeared to be itching for a fight. Voslic had to give the techs credit for being brave or curse them for being completely brain dead.

 

Voslic watched for a few seconds until he saw that Vik was probably about to instigate the fight. He took a deep breath and with his best parade ground voice he shouted. “AT EASE!” It always amazed him that it worked every time. The room went from complete bedlam to hearing a pin drop silence. All eyes were now on him.

 

Voslic let the silence stretch for a few moments as he made eye contact with everyone in the room. He paced the width of the room twice watching the group until he was ready to start. He finally stopped in the middle of the room, feet shoulder width apart, body fully erect and hands now firmly on his hips. “Would someone care to explain by all that is holy what is going on here?”

 

He shot up one clenched fist as soon as he finished to forestall the expected outburst from everybody there as they would all want to tell their version of what was happening. “Capt. Jorgen, you first please.”

 

Aric nearly snarled as he answered. “These four showed up here just after you left claiming to need to do ordered maintenance on M1. The next thing we know, he’s in the corner threatening to send them to see the Maker. When we finally got a straight answer out of them, they have orders to remove M1 from our barracks.”

 

The senior tech stepped forward a step. “If I may sir?” Voslic locked him with a withering look that made the man wish he had kept his mouth shut. Finally Voslic motioned him to continue. He swallowed hard before he spoke.

“Sir, we have orders from base maintenance that come from the commander’s office. We are to remove this droid for inspection, maintenance and possible reassignment.”

 

Vik spoke up. “Skipper, the dura-steel can back here aint my favorite member of Havoc, but he belongs to us. Give me the word and we can disappear the lot of them.”

 

Voslic nearly laughed but his amusement. “Stand down Tanno.” He glanced at the tech. “I don’t think that will be possible to comply with those orders. That droid was assigned by Republic Marine Special Forces Command. How am I going to explain how I let four techs walk in here and take MY droid?”

 

“Sir, I’m afraid I have my orders.”

 

Voslic looked back at M1. “What about it M1? You want to leave with these gentlemen?”

 

M1’s servos whined as the droid stood a bit taller before answering. “Quite frankly sir, I’d rather have a rocket attached to my armored butt and shot into the nearest sun.”

 

A second tech spoke up. “See, that’s why you grunt units shouldn’t be allowed this kind of gear. When was the last time a memory flush was performed on this unit? And there’s not even a karking restraining bolt! Regulations state that droids, ESPECIALLY combat units have restraining bolts.”

 

Voslic blanched inward as he felt Elara’s eyes on him. She could spout regulations to protect him most of the time. Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.

 

Emboldened now, thinking that he had scored points with regulations violations the second tech continued. “Now, SIR, you need to stand your people down and order this droid to submit to the restraining bolt.” He took a sudden step back as Voslic speared him with near laser bolts from his steel gray eyes.

 

“Watch your tone son. You may not be worried about upsetting most droids, but you may be better off upsetting a Wookie than this one.”

 

Voslic took a long look at his droid then moved toward the back of the barracks where M1 stood. When he was close enough to the big battle droid he placed a hand on a cold dura-steel shoulder. “Don’t worry ‘Garand’. We’ll work this all out and you’ll be back with the squad in no time. Understand ‘Garand’?”

 

The droids eyes seemed to dim and he sagged in on himself a bit as if he resigned himself to his fate. Then he straightened, the eyes brightened and he almost seemed to smile when he looked his C.O. in the face.

 

“Understood sir.”

 

“Good.” He patted M1 on the shoulder. “Excellent.” Voslic turned to the techs. “You will give us time to say our farewells to him.” It wasn’t request and the techs backed off. Voslic glanced around at his team. He stopped at the incredulous look Jorgen had affixed him with. Voslic gave a subtle shake of the head and moved toward his office. A few minutes later, he watched M1, restraining bolt in place march out of the barracks flanked by the four techs.

 

Aric burst into the office as the outer hatch slid shut. “Are you karking serious?!” He nearly screamed. “What’s next if you let them get away with this?”

 

Voslic noticed Elara had slid in behind Aric and now leaned against the wall facing him. By the look on her face, he could tell she was thinking the same thing, but as his wife and a lieutenant, she would not question him right now.

 

Voslic turned his attention back to the furious Cathar. “M1 WAS next.” Voslic replied tiredly.

 

Aric leaned down and placed both hands on the desk in front of him. “What do you mean ‘next’?”

 

“They ‘appropriated’ Corellian Serenity. ‘Needs of the service’.”

 

Jorgen growled. “Needs my furry butt. Did you call Gen. Garza?”

 

“Unfortunately the base transmitter is down. According to my new good friend the colonel who I had the privilege of having a fine cup of caff with this morning.” Vosic ended bitterly.

 

Elara pushed herself off the wall. “What do we do now?”

 

Voslic stabbed a button on his desk console and to bring up the display. Routine message traffic, including training requests began to download.

 

“We train.”

 

Edited by sthrift
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@sthrift, Voslic has more patience than me; I'd have kicked every one of the techs out of there. Nobody touches da Forex. :mad:

 

Prompt - (Un)invited Guests

Title - Night Visit

Class - Bounty Hunter/Trooper

No spoilers

 

 

The sun had set on this part of Mandalore, and Dha was locking down the perimeter of the homestead. Clad in a tan Balmorran Arms jacket and brown pants rather than his usual armor, and armed only with a single pistol, he patrolled the entire plot of land very carefully. Satisfied, he returned to the house, shut the door, and locked it with his ten-digit access code. With a clank, the fortified beskar door locked. Now no one short of an army could get in that way.

 

He completed his ritual by walking through every hallway and room in the house, checking just in case. When he was certain that all was as it should be, he returned to the living room. Blizz, Treek, and Gault had already retired for the night; Skadge was in the kitchen, scavenging food from wherever he could; Torian stood in the corner watching a bolo-ball game on the HoloNet; and Mako and Elara sat on the couch, conversing softly, with Crysta sleeping softly in Mako's lap.

 

"All clear?" Mako asked as Dha approached.

 

He nodded. "All clear."

 

He sat down beside her, and the three of them conversed softly for some time. Elara had just stood and was going to bed when the security alert chimed. Dha quickly stood and walked over to the main console. Torian switched off the vid and walked over beside Dha, while Elara ducked behind the couch and Mako rushed out, carrying Crysta in her arms.

 

"Approaching speeder," Dha hissed tightly. "All black, no markings, definitely armored."

 

"I'll wake the others," Torian replied.

 

Dha nodded and pulled his blaster smoothly from its holster. Elara crawled over to the center table and picked up her sidearm. Dha motioned for her to stay down; no way was his pregnant sister-in-law getting involved in a firefight. The speeder was close enough now that he could hear it through the reinforced door. Gripping the pistol more tightly, Dha opened a slat on the door.

 

"Who's out there?" he barked in his give-me-the-right-answer-or-you-die voice.

 

As a response, he got, "Open up, slime-rot, or we blow the door down!"

 

"I think not. It's reinforced beskar, you chakaar. Now clear out before I vape you."

 

"We're here for the woman," growled the voice.

 

Rage boiled in Dha's blood. He slid the blaster through the slat and fired. There was a yelp of surprise, and then a low, dark chuckle.

 

"Fine. Have it your way. Now you all die."

 

Dha shut the slat just as blasterfire pelted the door. It would take them all night to get through if they tried that way. So they must have some other way through, some way that Dha wouldn't have thought of normally–

 

There was a sharp crack, and Dha whirled to see Elara, smoking blaster in hand, over a black-armored mercenary who'd just walked in from the back hallway. Dha's gut churned. The garage! He moved down the hallway, shielding Elara with his body. He was one turn away from the primary garage when there was the report of a blaster firing. Dha ducked back just as the bolt slammed into the wall beside him.

 

"Kark!" he growled.

 

Two black-armored troops stumbled around the corner, and Dha fired into the first one's chest. He dropped like a stone. Elara picked off the second before he could return fire. Suddenly, a fist-sized sphere rolled around the corner. Dha's eyes widened.

 

"Get down–grenade!"

 

He flattened himself atop Elara. The grenade exploded, sending shrapnel flying into the corridor. Dha winced as it pierced his unarmored back, tearing his shirt and flesh to shreds. Somehow he managed to stumble off Elara and roll around to fire at the next trooper now coming around the bend. He shot him cleanly under the jaw, killing him instantly.

 

"Get...Mako!" Dha snapped to Elara. "Get the others!"

 

"You're hurt!" Elara exclaimed.

 

"I'll live. Just go!"

 

He stood, staggering to lean up against the wall as he did. Elara ran back the other way, head down. Dha snapped off another shot as another black-armored soldier rounded the corner. The mercenary dropped, his blaster discharging harmlessly into the ceiling. Dha gnashed his teeth in pain, the shrapnel in his back nearly sending him into unconsciousness, but he held on through sheer determination.

 

Holding his pistol high, he fired again, and again, and again. Three more troopers dropped. He was creating a wall of bodies that the enemies were now having to stumble to get over. And then suddenly there was a hail of blasterfire as Gault and Torian sprinted into the corridor, their weapons firing. Torian ejected his knuckle vibroblade and leapt in, sweeping his fist. And then, as Treek and Skadge followed them down the corridor, Dha finally got a break, dropping down to his knees and exhaling.

 

"Dha!" Mako exclaimed. She ran up to his side. "Are you all right?"

 

"I'll...live," he bit out. "But...we need to clear these guys out now. Elara...Crysta?"

 

"Elara and Crysta are in the nursery. I activated the L1-L defender droids. They'll be fine."

 

Dha nodded. "Just...kill these chakaare and be done with it."

 

He staggered to his feet beside Mako, who opened fire grimly with her pistol. The flow of mercenaries wasn't so constant, now; their numbers were reducing as Torian, a blur of blades and blaster bolts, and the others cut them down mercilessly.

 

"Take me...outside," Dha said. "I want to kill their leader myself."

 

Mako nodded, knowing better than to argue. Dha walked up to the front door and entered the ten-digit code. The door swung open. The enemy commander stood with two bodyguards in the center of the yard. The commander–dark-skinned, with hair dyed a gaudy orange and joyless, gray eyes–stood with his hands on his hips, his expression cautious but unworried. His bodyguards both had blaster rifles trained on Dha and Mako.

 

Out of the corner of Dha's eye, he spotted the greenish-tan blur moving around behind the enemies' unoccupied speeder. All he had to do was stall for time...

 

"Who are you?" he asked.

 

"Come to negotiate? Had enough?" The enemy commander stepped forward. "Who I am is not important, scum, but if you must know I am Commandant Va'ex Rethel of Corporate Security."

 

"Corporate Security...what? Mandalore isn't even in the Corporate Sector!"

 

"We were hired," Rethel said with a wave of his hand. "We freelance from time to time. And someone very much wants the child of Havoc Squad's commander. Alive."

 

"That's my nephew, you hutuun!"

 

Shoving himself away from Mako–gently, so as not to hurt her–he stormed forward, his back suddenly not hurting him at all. He just wanted to punch this scum-sucking gutter trash until he bled. The bodyguards tensed, ready to fire...and one of them shrieked in horror as the family's pet strill, Iviin, all teeth and six legs' worth of claws, leapt from behind the speeder and began viciously attacking him. The other bodyguard whirled and prepared to fire on the pet. Mako put a bolt in his gut, and then another in his head.

 

"Just you and me, Rethel," Dha said with a fierce grin.

 

He leapt forward, dropping his blaster. Rethel raised his own weapon to fire, but Dha knocked it aside with a quick backhand and punched Rethel cleanly in the gut. The man doubled over, and Dha brought up his knee into the man's face. Rethel stumbled back; Dha grabbed him by the collar and punched him three times squarely in the face. The first blow split his lip, the second broke his nose, the third blackened his eye. Dha let the man stagger back, and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to Rethel's jaw.

 

The man hit the ground, bloody and bruised. Dha walked over, grabbed him by the collar, and hoisted him up. Fear finally registered in Rethel's cold eyes. Dha headbutted him, skinning open Rethel's head on his cranial horns. Blood wept from the wound, and Dha dropped him.

 

"Mako," Dha said, "take him down to the holding cells. He won't resist."

 

He shot a glance over at Iviin. The strill growled happily, standing over his victim. The man was definitely dead. Dha reached down and petted Iviin on the top of the head. Torian exited the house, clutching at a spot on his arm where a blaster bolt had grazed him.

 

"All clear, alor?" Torian asked.

 

Dha nodded. "All clear, kid. All clear."

 

 

 

Sorry for the length of this one; it kind of just kept spilling out.

 

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Sorry for any confusion, but I had to make a 6th slot for the SFC Index. The spots will always be linked in my signature and maybe if we can get one of the posts on the first page of the thread, it might make it easier for people to find the outlying number 6.

 

***The Prompt Archive and SFC Index have been moved to their own thread which can be found here.***

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Index is up to date!

 

I'm really behind on comments, so these are going to be quickies!!

 

@frauzet: Love the pics!! Oh, what a sad, wrenching moment for Thorns! *sniff*

 

@Bright: T5 makes me giggle! I indexed that story as a Droids prompt......if you want it as something else, let me know. As for the writing thing, hey, you got it down....that's what matters! I once stood in front of the dairy case at the grocery store furiously typing out an outline on my phone because that story popped into my head while I was doing the weekly shopping! I loved the heirloom trio and the Savins family always gives me warm fuzzies!

 

RE: Catnapping......let's just say it's going to be complicated and leave it at that.....for now. ;)

 

@marissalf: That was a sad, touching, and insightful look into Ellis......I might be warming to him a little, but still don't quite trust him yet. Nicely done!

@alaurin, Girl, you are prolific! I need to steal some of that inspiration :D

Have all you want! I need some sleep......I am glad when the muse visits me so much though.

Dammit, you keep making me like Cpt. Grumpypants! Ugh, just the sweetest thing.
Sorry.....my bad. I really like the guy though......yes, I have issues! I like Gault too.....

Ha! That might be my favorite Garza moment yet.
I know that woman has to have a sense of humor beneath that stern facade.

I really like the cultural aspects you’re bringing into the story. The idea of a caste system among the Cathar is interesting.
I'm glad people are liking the liberties I've taken with the Cathar society and culture. I'm always anxious writing about stuff like that.....worried it won't make sense or come out that well.

 

 

Alaurin: The lack of “official” culture is part of why I like your exploration of it. There’s nothing contradicting canon sources and you’re internally consistent. Murghir, a throwaway in the BH line, become significant, as does Shange. Within that framework, it makes sense that Aric is conflicted for a whole number of reasons. It really adds depth to his character.

Thank you again.....I feel better knowing that people don't think its off the wall or hate it. Aric's conflict is really going to be tested soon......

 

 

@Yoshi: Looks like your muse has kicked into overdrive!! Oh dear.....what a difficult and possibly dangerous spot Methic has been put in! Oh, and the Secret Stash and Quinn's end sentiment made me laugh! That was a very touching moment with Dha and Torian.....I can see them forming a bond.

 

 

@Irishfino: That was a very touching gift for Geltie to give to Narithia! *sigh* :)

 

 

@sthrift: Welcome back and nicely done! This is turning into a real nail biter for me.....and I have to agree with Yoshi, Voslic showed great restraint there, but I'm sure he has a good reason for it.

 

 

I hope I didn't miss anyone and if I did, I'm really sorry and don't worry, Santa probably already has me on the naughty list this year.....

 

 

Here's a little something I posted on my Tumblr a couple of days ago, but since it is the gift giving season, I decided to post it here as well.

 

Title: A Beautiful Surprise

Prompt: Gifts

Character: Belladonya-smuggler

Setting: XS Freighter, sometime after this.

Spoilers: none really, just who the Smuggler companions are

 

 

“No cheating,” Corso’s voice whispered in her ear, “I saw you trying to peek….do I need to blindfold you?”

 

“No,” Bella giggled, “I’ll be good…..promise.”

 

It was Bella’s twenty-sixth birthday and Corso was leading her to their quarters on the ship. Her crew had surprised her with a cake a couple of hours ago and she’d gotten some really nice things from them. Risha gave her a pair of boots she’d been admiring from one of the latest fashion catalogues, Gus had given her a new emergency medkit in a nice, durable leather case, and Akaavi had given her book of Mando’a language. Mallay, Lissa, Kit, Jonah, and their mother had all called her throughout the day with their birthday wishes and Ros called her yesterday, saying she was heading out on a mission and wouldn’t be able to call later. That just left Corso and Bowdaar’s gift, which Bella was being taken to.

 

“Okay,” Corso told her when they stopped, “You can open them now.”

 

Bella opened her eyes and in front of her were the most beautiful wooden desk and chair. All along the edges of the desk, the back of the chair, and on all of the drawers were the most intricately carved designs……something that must have taken a lot of time, talent, and focus. One by one, Bella opened the drawers to find many different types of paper, canvas, and a multitude of pencils, chalks, and paints in so many different, bright, vivid colors. The top of the desk could be propped up however much she wanted. The chair was sturdy, with the same carved designs and a soft, deep green velvet cushion.

 

When she finally found her voice, Bella turned to her husband and friend, “This is beautiful……thank you, both of you. When did you guys do this?”

 

“Bowdaar did most of the work, carving out all of the different pieces and designs,” Corso smiled, “I just told him what I wanted you to be able to do with it and bought the art supplies.”

 

“It was Corso’s idea and he helped put it together,” Bowdaar barked, pride in his work evident on his face, “I carved whenever you were off ship without me.”

 

“Let me guess……there wasn’t really a rat in the cargo hold was there?” Bella smirked.

 

“Yeah, uh…..sorry about that, hon,” Corso blushed, “I might have put one in there to scare you away for the past couple of weeks.”

 

“You did get it out though, right?”

 

“I did….just after you found it,” Corso nodded, grinning at the memory of his bold and brassy wife screeching in terror when she spotted the little critter. He blushed a little as he recalled how tightly that slender, curvy body of hers clung to him when he rushed in that morning.

 

“How did you know that I was afraid of rats?” Bella narrowed her deep green gaze at her husband.

 

“Umm……about that,” Risha admitted, “We were kinda sworn to secrecy.”

 

“It would dishonor us to tell,” Akaavi nodded.

 

“and it would be dangerous to my well-being,” Gus squeaked.

 

“Oh, no she didn’t……” Bella replied as a wicked grin crossed her features, knowing exactly who told, “I know a certain Spec Forces Major who’s going to get a snake for her next birthday!”

 

Edited by alaurin
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