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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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@Yoshi and Alaurin - Well, I'll be honest, me and my Staff NCO self wouldn't have stopped with the techs. I'd have done a good ole fashioned "stomp and drag" through the entire base and turned right around a done it again just general purposes and good measure. Voslic however is in a unique spot. You normally wouldn't see a major in any branch in command of a small unit like this. Squadrons maybe but I think even today most of your squadron COs are Colonels. Majors are sort of like older versions of boot lieutenants. They are commanders in training and have no real power other than what a CO would give them. Major's, even salty old SpecOps HAVOC commanders wouldn't have the weight to throw around in a situation like this. What a GOOD one would have is the gall to pull some underhanded tricks and bide ones time until a favorable situation presented itself. Voslic could fight for 4X and his ship and whatever else, but in the end, even if the base CO might be sympathetic (which we know this one is not) Voslic would probably only wind up pissing him off and put him on the wrong side of things anyway.

 

 

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Yoshi – I enjoy your BH Dha. Good guy to have in your corner covering your loved ones.

 

Alaurin – Your family stories are a joy to read. Love both story lines you have going. It’s interesting to read the trooper from your perspective. Well done.

 

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Everything else is coming up drivel this week.

 

I posted this on tumblr a while back. It fits for the prompt and I haven't posted a Varrel Umrahiel story in a while.

 

Prompt: Heritage and Antiques

 

Character: Varrel Umrahiel

 

Title: A Dangerous Project

 

Occurs after Bitterness. Spoilers for both Sith Warrior and Sith Inquisitor act 3. Also kind of spoilers for Lord Scourge story. Longish; 2700 words.

 

 

The door to the shop opened with a tinkling of bells. Varrel looked up. Old-fashioned, mechanical chimes, simple tuned metal tubes hung above the door, its movement inducing them to sing. He stepped inside and the door closed behind him. Somehow, the fading sound did not put him at ease.

 

Vegetation filled the shop. It was a piece of Dromund Kaas’ jungle transplanted to a Kaas City alley. Heavy-trunked trees emerged from shallow pots on stubby stands, their twisted branches reaching for rain-smeared skylights. Smaller plants crowded around their bases, disciples seeking an audience. Closer inspection showed him most of the plants were not Dromund Kaas natives at all, but transplants from other worlds. Why they seemed to fit together here he could not tell.

 

Under normal circumstances, Varrel would have admired the art and care taken to mold the living plants into their distinctive, more-than-natural shapes. But for some reason they contributed to a gnawing sense of unease. Perhaps this was not such a good idea after all. He turned to leave.

 

“Going so soon, my Lord?” a sibilant voice asked him.

 

Varrel turned to the speaker, resisting the urge to ignite a lightsaber. It was a woman, or at least he thought so, her slender body bent and humpbacked and crooked with age. He towered over her, and he was not a tall man by Imperial standards. Diaphanous green fabric drifted around her like a fog. Patterns resembling leaves printed on it in white and varying darker shades made her seem like a forest shadow. Her face hid within the irregular design. He couldn't even look directly at her. His gaze slipped away, as though she didn't want to be seen. "I don’t see what I'm looking for," he said at last.

 

She tittered and tilted her veiled face up to his. A blue-furred, catlike creature peeked out from beneath the shroud on her shoulder. It trilled and leapt down, taking her hump with it. Varrel felt a pr*ckling on his skin, like tiny fish biting. She pushed back her veil, revealing parchment pale skin crowned with copper white tresses. Where her eyes should be were bare sockets, fragile old woman's skin filling them without hint of injury or scar and flowing like a waterfall into her hollow cheeks. He started despite himself.

 

"Ah. I see nothing at all, yet I think I can help you," she said.

 

Creeping things slithered up Varrel’s spine. He thought of Luti-Baya, the evil witch in his homeworld's folktales. He pushed the thought aside. She was a Miraluka, an uncommon species, nothing more. "Perhaps an orchid for my wife, " he said.

 

"For your wife, yes, but not an orchid, I think," she whispered. Her clawlike hand brushed a nearby flower. The spike of crimson blooms nodded agreement. "And not entirely for your wife. Nor your son. Varrel Umrahiel, Wrath of the Emperor."

 

“How do you know me?” he accused. Had spies penetrated his estate? More correctly, were there spies he did not know about?

 

The blue feline peeked out from behind thick leaves. “I know many things, Varrel Umrahiel, Wrath of the Emperor,” she said.

 

“You have me at a disadvantage, grandmother,” he said. He used the kinship term as he might on Atresia, though it was uncommon here in the Empire.

 

The old woman laughed, a sound like the wind scattering dried leaves, “Yes, I do,” she said. Her eyeless face grinned wide, “Call me Kruvaûsh-ortay. Or just Kruvaûsh. We need not stand on formality. Come, let us discuss things in private.” Her finger stabbed at the display window facing the street. The glowing ‘open’ sign, barely visible from this side behind wide, leathery leaves, switched to its blue ‘closed’ option. A second flick of her finger and the door latch locked with a click.

 

Varrel’s heart raced, “You are Sith,” he said. His hands again strayed to his saber hilts.

 

Kruvaûsh dismissed his accusation with a last flick of her wrist, “Oh, pish-posh,” she laughed, “I have some minor talent. All my kind do. The Sith don’t have all the answers,” she said. Her empty eye sockets fixed him with a stare that couldn’t exist, “You know this, or you would not be here. Come." Reluctantly he followed her to the rear of the store. She pushed aside a curtain made of hollow wooden beads and led him into a back room.

 

Varrel saw no plants here. No living ones. Instead, branches hung drying in bundles from the ceiling. Roots poked out of granular desiccant medium. Prepared samples rested on countless shelves, flimsiplast tags depending from each exotic item. An automortar ground along in the corner, patiently reducing a specimen to powder. Varrel knew this place, knew this smell. The apothecary shop in the town where he grew up. Struggling even then. Kolto and modern chemicals replaced the old cures, but a few of the old people still went there for medicine instead of the medcenter.

 

“Have a seat. Forgive such base accommodations, my Lord Umrahiel,” she said, indicating a plain wooden stool. Kruvaûsh hobbled to the workbench, "Tea?" she asked, switching on a kettle. Her hand reached for a flattened clay teapot and she crumbled a pinch of leaves and twigs into it.

 

Not Luti-Baya, Varrel realized, but Hora-Baya. The Old Crone of the Mountain. Brewer of poisons, worker of dark magicks, eater of unwary travelers. Who also, when she was so inclined, bartered for favors.

 

"It isn't poisoned," Kruvaûsh said at Varrel’s silence.

 

"What makes you think I believe it is poison?" he asked. He thought of poison and she mentioned it. It could not be a coincidence.

 

Kruvaûsh waved again in dismissal, "You are Sith. Of course you think it is poisoned."

 

"Tea, then," Varrel said. Not a coincidence.

 

The crone laughed, "And you accept, proving you do not fear me," she said. She poured hot water into the pot and replaced the lid. “I know why you are here,” she said as the tea brewed.

 

She could not. Could she? “Why am I here?” he asked.

 

She turned to face him, green veil fallen again over her non-eyes, “You want what every old man wants. Not that,” she giggled, “that you have.”

 

Varrel flushed despite himself. His first thought at her turn of phrase had indeed been carnal. And as quickly dismissed as indecorous. “What, then?”

 

“What everyone wants at the closing of their lives,” she said, “when the end is no longer far distant, but there waiting at the end of the garden path. Only a few small steps away. When you realize, like all living beings, that you are not willing to surrender to death.”

 

The crone did know why he came. “Death comes for all,” Varrel said. But he did not believe it. Did not want to believe it. Not for him. There was still much unfinished.

 

Kruvaûsh chuckled, and Varrel thought of tree limbs creaking in the distance. “But not for you, eh? I know, of course. How far is my garden-gate, Wrath of the Emperor? How long before death comes for me?”

 

“I could not say,” Varrel answered.

 

“I can. And it is soon,” Kruvaûsh groped for a pair of cups and poured the tea. She brought a wide cup to Varrel. The tea-scent rolled up, herbal and spicy with overtones of sweetroot. “Do you know, it is said that the last Emperor’s Wrath served for over three hundred years?” she asked, changing the subject.

 

In fact, he had not inquired much about the previous Emperor’s Wrath. The thought never occurred to him. Odd that it had not. “He was not Human, then?”

 

“He was Sith,” Kruvaûsh said, taking a sip of her tea, “but even they do not live so long. It is said he felt nothing, that he traded all his feelings and emotions for eternal life and eternal youth and strength. For what is eternity without the vitality to enjoy it?” she said with another giggle.

 

The whisper-bird who, for the love of a prince, sold her voice to Hora-baya in exchange for human shape.

 

“How could he keep his power, then? With no emotions?” Varrel asked, “is that not the Sith way?”

 

“Ah. On that subject, little is said. Whispers, perhaps, behind closed doors, that he found a new path to power,” Kruvaûsh said. She set her cup down. “So. What are you willing to trade, Varrel Umrahiel, New Wrath of the Emperor? What price would buy eternal life and vitality?”

 

The prince who traded his human form and his kingdom to Hora-Baya for that of a talloc-forest, so he might always hear his beloved whisper-bird.

 

Varrel took a sip of his tea. He tasted a warm waxy sweetness and alien spices with a background of soil and roots. He set the cup on the workbench, “Why should I believe you can grant it?”

 

Kruvaûsh tottered toward him, “Because I can.” Her twiggy fingers reached out for his face, long nails skittering down his cheek like a scrambling beetle, “You know I can, or you would not be here,” she whispered.

 

He seized her hand, fragile bones like matchsticks in his grip, “Then what would you charge for such a favor, grandmother?” He sensed truth in her words. Yet also deception. A camouflage-moth spreading its tattered wings against a treetrunk and hoping predators will pass it by.

 

Kruvaûsh tipped her head, “Such a favor demands another favor in return.”

 

“What favor, grandmother,” Varrel growled, tightening his grip a fraction.

 

Whisper-bird-girl wandered the forest for the rest of her life, always seeking her prince but never finding him.

 

If his grip hurt her, she did not show it. “To be named later,” she said, “if you do not like my solution, the favor is forfeit. Agreed?”

 

Forest-prince provided food and shelter for her, but never heard her beautiful voice again.

 

Like the tea, Varrel did not care for the flavor of Kruvaûsh’s proposed bargain at all. Yet what option had he? He was an old man, his garden small now, its gate near. So many things left undone. All other avenues cut off. “In principle,” he said, releasing her.

 

Kruvaûsh cackled, “Excellent! Excellent choice, Wrath of the Emperor. We have preparations to make, you and I.” She hobbled to the ranks of shelves, to a section holding old-fashioned bound books. Words and diagrams on flimsiplast pages or material even older. Her claws ran across their spines as she sought the volume she wanted.

 

Varrel stood, “I expect you will send me off to retrieve some artifact or other, then,” he groused.

 

She turned back to him, “Artifact? Artifacts are so popular. So passé. Everyone has them now. As though the ancient things hold all the answers. Well, some of us do,” she laughed at her own joke, steepling gnarled fingers, then went back to her books, “No, no, my Lord Varrel Umrahiel. These are the old ways. The old magic, Sith magic. Alchemy, my Wrath. The art of transformation through the Force and elixir and ritual. We do not need to find an artifact. Ah, yes,” she selected a volume and removed it from the shelf. She blew dust and powder off its leaves. Clutching the book to her chest she turned to him, “we will make one.”

 

Varrel reached for the book, "You cannot make an artifact," he scoffed.

 

Kruvaûsh pulled back, "Not yet, not yet," she said, "Of course you can make one. Do you think artifacts simply happen? Someone makes them, why not you? I will research further. But there are things you must do in the interim."

 

Varrel frowned. In for a credit, in for it all. "Of course," he said.

 

Kruvaûsh clucked her tongue, "You are as bad as a new apprentice. Which you need. Take an apprentice."

 

"I have an apprentice," Varrel said.

 

"Not your wife. Not Jaesa. And not your son, either," Kruvaûsh said, "Pick a promising student, but no one close. As Wrath you must have hundreds of prospects begging for a chance to learn from you. Pick one of them. Young and healthy. Preferably male.”

 

His scowl deepened, “Why male?”

 

“So your wife will suspect nothing amiss, of course,” Kruvaûsh said, “new mothers can be so odd.”

 

He did not want an outside apprentice. Especially not now. Apprentices were trouble. “Any more guidance?”

 

“Yes, Lord Varrel Umrahiel,” Kruvaûsh said, “You must choose a thing. A special thing, one that is a part of you. No, no,” she said as he reached for a saber, “not a lightsaber.”

 

“The saber is part of me,” Varrel objected. It was his weapon, an extension of himself.

 

The crone shook her head in disapproval, “Every Sith has a lightsaber. Every Jedi. Not a lightsaber, with its energy cells and mechanical parts. Something personal, Lord Umrahiel,” her eyeless face looked up at him, “Yes, you will know it when you discover it. Bring it when you return.”

 

Varrel’s thoughts had gone to the paired dueling blades he kept, resting quiet in their case. He did not want to relinquish them to the old crone. She had something sinister in mind for them. “I will consider it,” he said.

 

“Oh, do more than consider, my Lord Wrath,” Kruvaûsh said, “The work will fail if you do not desire its completion with all your heart. Faith is as important as formulae. An essential ingredient. Remember this. Be mindful in your choices.”

 

Her last statement sent a shiver up his spine, setting off the creeping things that had taken up residence, “I understand,” he said.

 

That is why whisper-birds cry and nest in talloc trees, and why talloc tree leaves are curved and contorted like ears.

 

“Good, good,” Kruvaûsh said, “go now. I will contact you soon.”

 

Varrel bristled at her bare dismissal but turned and left without comment. The blue feline skittered out of his way, miaowing and complaining. The wooden beads clacked with his passing, followed by the bright chimes and the hiss as the shop door closed behind him.

 

The sign on her door remained closed and she made certain the latch locked closed in his wake. Kruvaûsh waited until the tsunami of Lord Umrahiel’s Force presence faded into Dromund Kaas' constant churning maelstrom. She had been none too pleased with this vessel at first. But she found its unique Force senses granted an unexpected advantage. She could not read minds, but she discovered certain kinds of thoughts shared a similar hue, regardless of species, gender, or age. Umrahiel's thoughts of danger when presented with tea, or of sex when she suggested what old men wanted. Easy, then, to take advantage of his assumptions.

 

Kruvaûsh settled in to her work, flipping to the proper section of the ancient volume she'd chosen. She did not expect Lord Umrahiel would like the solution she crafted for herself; she had to choose another for him. So many options. But a male apprentice gave him a fallback position if the first failed. She thought he would not, though, assuming he accepted the inevitable. His thoughts when she told him to find a personal thing showed the proper resonance. She did not know what object he thought of, only that it was the right one for the ritual she had in mind.

 

She brought up a recent image of Jaesa Umrahiel née Willsaam on her tactile display and ran her wizened fingertips over her curves. Thickened now with motherhood and maturity. She remembered a younger woman from her days observing the Dark Council. Darth Baras' machinations were not soon forgotten. Brown hair, eyes showing the dark side’s power, lovely figure even now. Yes, thought Kruvaûsh-ortay, the Witch of the Mountain, the woman once known as Darth Zash. She would do nicely. Very nicely indeed.

 

 

Note:

The Yovshin blades Varrel recalls are first mentioned here.

 

Edited by Striges
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Managed to get comments in before the prompt changed:

 

YoshiRalphElan: Quinn’s intro to comics. I expect he’d excuse the entire episode as “research on the apprentice’s weaknesses”. Yes, that sounds appropriate and not at all like he’s enjoying the comics himself.

 

I also really liked Dha’s stories. In the first, the heirloom-that’s-not. Nicely done. We’ve all been thinking in terms of special old things, great job turning that on it’s head and showing more of Sha’s backstory. And the last one, where even with Dha’s relentless security and precautions were not quite enough.

 

Bright: All three of the shorts were just beautiful. Wynston showing his true colors even that early. Quinn telling himself he kept the sabers for practical reasons alone. Mama Savins’ pearls: something old and something new for Elara at the same time.

 

Irishfino: Given saber crystals are supposed to be chosen and special to the person using the saber, the idea that they don’t outlast the user is touching.

 

sthrift: Oh, very suspicious stuff going on here indeed. I love all the military details and how you’re developing this story. We’ve got just enough information to know that Havok’s in bigger trouble than they suspect.

 

Alaurin: Corso’s gift is so nice, given how Bella felt about showing him her artwork in the first place.

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Alaurin – Your family stories are a joy to read. Love both story lines you have going. It’s interesting to read the trooper from your perspective. Well done.

Thank you!! I'm glad you're enjoying the two different storylines. I've kinda taken a few liberties with Tia's version, but it's been fun to write.

 

 

@Striges: I really like how you wove the lines from the folktales throughout the story, it really gave a unique perspective to things, both telling of Varrel's homeworld and past, but also making that connection to his current situation. Also, your descriptions are so vivid and wonderful.......I wish I had that ability!!

 

Alaurin: Corso’s gift is so nice, given how Bella felt about showing him her artwork in the first place.

Thanks! I wanted to have him give her something for her art, to encourage her to keep at it.

 

 

 

Ok, I'm veering a bit off course with this next thing and I profusely apologize in advance, but it isn't pretty and a bit dark. I have no idea where this came from, suffice to say that I have issues and likely need therapy.....:eek:. It's kinda longish....~3100 words.

 

 

Title: A Damaged Soul

Prompt: Dreams and Nightmares, Bad Memories, a little Turning Points, some Affection

Character: Roslynd-JK

Setting: Emperor’s Fortress, Defender

Spoilers: JK Act 2 finale/Act 3 beginning

 

****warning: violence, torture, and mentions of/allocations to rape.*****

 

“Let him back in or scream,” Ros laughed coldly as she turned the dial up further, “Either way, it doesn’t matter. He always wins and you’re foolish to resist.”

 

“I’ll never let him back in,” Kira gritted against the pain, “Fight him, Ros! Fight that monster’s hold on you……I know you can!”

 

“Fine,” Ros spat, “If that’s the way you want to play it……I’ll play…..your pain is a game to me, pathetic little Jedi and I will take great pleasure when you scream!” With that, Ros turned the dial to its highest setting and laughed as Kira’s screams filled the room.

 

 

With a scream of her own, Ros sat up in her bed, disorientated for a moment until the memories came hurling back. The assault on the Emperor’s Fortress had gone terribly wrong and she, along with Masters Tol Braga, Leeha Narezz, and Warren Sedoru had been taken over by the Emperor, their wills no longer their own. She’d finally broken the hold of the emperor, with the help of both her deceased father and former mentor reaching through the Force to pull her back into the Light. Her mind was once again her own and when the overseer led her into the torture chamber where Kira lay shackled to a table, Ros turned on him, ending his life and quickly freeing her friend. She and Kira fought their way to the hanger, only to find the Emperor’s Wrath, Lord Scourge there with the rest of her crew. The huge Sith went down on one knee, pledging a temporary allegiance to her. He explained that he needed to speak with the Jedi Council immediately and promised to explain further once they’ve made their escape. Time was of the essence and recalling Master Orgus' words to her, a leery Ros agreed to let Scourge accompany them. They quickly board her ship, and thanks to Scourge’s help, made their escape with little resistance.

 

As soon as they were in hyperspace, Scourge told them of the Emperor gruesome intentions to use a dark side ritual that will give him unlimited power but devour the entire galaxy. Scourge further explained that he had a vision that Ros was the one to stop the Emperor once and for all and he wants to aid her in any way he can. Ros agreed to take him before the Jedi Council, then plotted course for Tython and retreated to her quarters to meditate, finally succumbing to sleep.

 

Ros lay in bed, silent tears pouring down her face as the memories of torturing her padawan…..now a close friend, filled her mind. Eventually, the young Jedi cried herself back to sleep.

 

 

“Hey there, handsome,” Ros purred, leaning over the medic, “Want to play…..doctor?”

 

“Hey yourself, beautiful,” Doc grinned, “What did you have in mind?”

 

“I could tell you,” Ros arched a slender eyebrow, letting her tongue slide across her full upper lip as she began to unbutton his shirt, “but I’d much rather show you, lover.”

 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to hear you call me that!” Doc whispered, slowly eyeing her near naked body as she let her fingers drift down to his waist, “I hope I’m not dreaming this time!”

 

 

Once again, Ros jerked awake, horrified and disgusted as those memories returned. What did I do? She wondered, hot tears of shame stinging her eyes. She tasted bitter acid in her mouth as anger filled her. Please Force, give me the strength to come to terms with this. She was happy her memories were returning, truth is much better than the unknown, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to get past the things she’d done. I know it’s selfish, but I hope torturing Kira and sleeping with Doc is the worst that I did. She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling sick and dirty, knowing she would need to confront her friends and beg their forgiveness. After a while, the tears stopped and sleep claimed her again.

 

 

“No!” Ros spat, sneering at the Chagrian as she pushed the button on the remote she held in her hand, “Alien filth, you dare say no to me! I’ll teach you your place……”

 

Anger flooded her at the soldier’s stubbornness and she depressed the button over and over, laughing cruelly at his twitching body. Sergeant Rusk refused to give her the satisfaction of voicing his pain, so she called on the dark side of the force, now swirling through her like a heady smoke, and raised her hand, joyfully watching him struggle for breath as she closed her fingers into a fist.

 

 

This time, she woke with a sob and got up, not wanting to relive anymore just then. She pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, then silently made her way to the cockpit. She sat there, quietly staring at the stars streaming by, letting the tears fall.

 

 

A little while later, Kira found her friend in the cockpit, her long, white blond hair unbound, tears running down her face. Her usual golden tone was pale and the redness in her eyes told Kira she’d been crying for a while. It hurt her to see her usually joyful, energetic friend so forlorn. She sat in the seat next to Ros and finally spoke, “What is it?”

 

“Oh, Kira,” Ros sobbed, “I did such terrible things!”

 

“You’re remembering then?”

 

“Flashes,” Ros nodded, her voice hoarse, “I was torturing you, torturing Rusk, and I did things with Doc……”

 

“I know,” Kira hugged her master and friend, “but Ros, you weren’t in control. No one understands better than I do what it’s like to have him in your head. You helped free me of that and I’m so very glad your father and Master Orgus were able to help you be free at last.”

 

“Please, Kira,” Ros begged, her breath hitching, “I only had flashes…..I don’t want to remember things in my dreams. Help me fill in the gaps.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“We didn’t see you for those first few weeks. After you all were healed, the Emperor sent the other masters away, and focused his attention on retraining you as a Sith. Then he decided to toy with you,” Kira began, “According to Scourge, who was responsible for keeping track of you while on his fortress, the Emperor was fascinated by you. You had the strongest will of anyone he’d come across in centuries. You had finished your abbreviated Sith training, so he wanted to test his control over you and flaunt his victory.”

 

“By making me torture my own friends,” Ros finished.

 

Kira nodded, “As far as I know, TeeSeven was kept with Scourge after being fitted with a restraining bolt. Doc, Rusk, and I were kept in separate rooms, but each had surveillance cameras and a monitor. We could see each other and were forced to watch as you were taken to each room by the overseer and Scourge when you finally returned this past week. I think others could watch the feed as well. I was first…..we were both to be punished for the Emperor losing his hold on me,” Kira paused, shaking a little at the memory, “The overseer had you strap me to a table and……”

 

“I was supposed to break you,” Ros whispered, the tears flowing again, “He wanted back in your mind, but you kept resisting. I turned the dials, causing you to be electrocuted over and over again until you finally gave into the pain and screamed.”

 

“I held out as long as I could,” Kira nodded, tears filling her eyes as well, “I knew that someday you would break free and I held on to that. I didn’t want you to remember causing me pain……I can tell what it’s doing to you.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Kira,” Ros whispered, “I remember it now, it’s like I could see myself doing it, but I couldn’t stop it……I was like a puppet…..the Emperor’s sick little puppet.”

 

“I know,” Kira sighed, “I think the worst thing was seeing your eyes……they were orange. You have no idea how relieved I was this morning when you came in and your eyes were back to their silver color. I knew it was the real you back in control.”

 

“Thank the stars Master Orgus finally was able to get through and help me break the hold,” Ros smiled, remembering her old mentor’s words to her, then she sobered, “So you saw what happened with Doc and Rusk?”

 

“Yes,” Kira admitted, “Doc's turn came the next day, the Emperor’s way of humiliating you……making you seduce the man you’d rebuffed time and time again. You walked into the room and the overseer removed your robe. You had on some skimpy slave outfit and……stars, this isn’t easy to tell you and it was so strange to see, but you started flirting with Doc…..and you could’ve given Bella a run for her money,” then an annoyed look crossed Kira’s features, “and he didn’t resist at all. In fact, he looked like a kid let loose in a candy store when you started removing his clothes and he was definitely enjoying himself when you……..”

 

“When I had sex with him,” Ros shook her head, “I think I should apologize to myself for that one!”

 

Kira giggled at that, “You should apologize to everyone but Doc…..we had to see it.” Once again a sad, pitying look came over Kira’s face, “I can’t speak for the rest, but I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sounds. I felt so bad for you and so pissed at Doc for not even trying to resist…..especially considering what Rusk had to go through.”

 

“I know I tortured him,” Ros nodded, “but the flashes with him were very brief.”

 

“The third day was Rusk’s turn, time to put the ‘alien filth’ you dared consider your equal in his ‘proper place,’” Kira sighed, dreading having to tell this part, “Once again, the overseer led you to his room and removed your robe. You were in the skimpy costume again and like with Doc, you attempted to seduce Rusk. He resisted at first, so you tortured him. He had on a slave collar and you had the remote, turning up the dial each time he refused your advances. He pleaded with you to fight that monster controlling you, and he never once screamed his pain. We could see the agony on his face, but he never let it out. However, in the end, after shocking him, choking him, and cutting his armor away, you…….”

 

Ros felt sick as the rest of those memories began to return, thankful she hadn’t eaten, “In the end I had my way and essentially raped a member of my crew,” she spat, disgust and self-loathing evident in her tone.

 

“No Ros,” Kira hugged her, seeing the horrified look on Ros’s face, “It wasn’t really you and in the end, Rusk gave in. I think he realized you’d remember this eventually and didn’t want you to have that on your conscious. He took over the aggressive role, Ros. You didn’t rape him…….he made love to you.”

 

“I know Jedi aren’t supposed to want vengeance,” Ros replied, her tone dark, bitter, and promising, “but I swear, I’m going to make the Emperor pay for what happened to you and Rusk.”

 

“And for what he did to you, Ros,” Kira added, “You were a victim, too and I really hope you can realize that someday.”

 

“Not anymore,” Ros replied, her voice strong in its determination, “Thank you Kira, you really are a true friend. Now, I’d better go have a word with Doc and apologize to Rusk.”

 

Ros decided to take a long hot shower before confronting Doc and Rusk, the warm water soothing as the memories washed over her. She stood there, crying for what she did to her friends and her damaged soul. After scrubbing herself thoroughly, she eventually finished, donning on her heavy robes, pinning up her long, thick hair, and went down to the med bay to find Doc.

 

The medic was inventorying his supplies when Ros walked in, “How you feeling, gorgeous?”

 

“Sick actually,” Ros answered, glaring at him.

 

“Well, I’m sure ole Doc has a remedy for that,” Doc grinned, apparently missing the dangerous glint in the Jedi’s silver eyes as he swaggered up to her, “What say you close that door and I’ll make you feel better.”

 

“What say I use one of my lightsabers on the more sensitive parts of your anatomy,” Ros retorted, “I know that’d make me feel better right about now.”

 

“Hey, come on now,” Doc held out his hands, taking a step back, “It wasn’t my fault……you seduced me!”

 

“Believe me, I am really sorry about that, but you could’ve at least try to resist,” Ros shot back, “Rusk did!”

 

“And he got tortured for his efforts and it changed nothing!” Doc argued, “It was stupid and pointless.” Then his voice softened to a more seductive tone, “Come on, beautiful, we enjoyed ourselves…..there’s nothing wrong with that. So I gave in without a fight and you don’t have a memory of torturing me as a result…..that’s got to be worth something, right? If you want, we can try again and I’ll pretend to resist…..”

 

“It took the darkest force user in the galaxy controlling my mind to make me sleep with you once,” Ros snapped, “Unless that happens again, and I assure you, the chances are slim and none, we won’t ever repeat that experience.”

 

“So you’re saying there’s a chance,” Doc called out as she turned to leave, wincing at the snort of disgust she gave on her way out the door.

 

Stars, I don’t know why I keep that creep around, Ros thought as she made her way to the galley. She found the Chagrian mulling over the food choices in the pantry, distaste evident on his face.

 

“Sergeant Rusk……Fideltin,” Ros softly called out, feeling a little shy, awkward, and extremely nervous all of the sudden.

 

Rusk turned, smiling at the young Jedi. He noted the heavy robes she wore, the hint of redness in those silvery eyes and knew she remembered what had happened, “Master Roslynd,” he bowed, “Is everything alright?”

 

“I’ve told you many times you can simply call me Ros,” the ghost of a smile lit up her face, “You're part of my crew and I consider us friends......I certainly don’t expect you to use a title.” Then the smile faded and she bowed her head in shame, “Although I can understand why you wouldn’t want me for a friend anymore.”

 

“None of that was your fault, Master…..um, Ros,” he assured her, the memories entering his thoughts, never that far to begin with. Even dressed as she was now, he had a difficult time forgetting the way her golden skinned body, the perfect blend of lean, hard muscle and soft, full curves, looked in that scrap of an outfit the overseer made her wear, “The blame lies with the Emperor…..I’ve read up on force compulsion and the chances of someone fighting off such a powerful dark side force user are…..”

 

“I don’t want to talk about facts or numbers or chances,” Ros interrupted, “I want to talk about what I did to you. It doesn’t matter who was in control……it doesn’t change the fact that I tried to seduce you and tortured you when you resisted. I’m so very sorry you had to go through that, Fideltin. I hurt you and I……I raped you…..and…”

 

“No,” Rusk countered softly, hating that she blamed herself and disgusted with the Emperor for making her do those things, “You didn’t rape me, Ros. I knew you would break free someday. I fought hard to keep the pain to myself and when it got to the point that I wouldn’t be able to keep from letting it out, I gave in. I knew what was going to happen and I didn’t want you to live with the memory of taking me by force, so I took control and……” Rusk swallowed hard, feeling his blood heat up as he recalled what happened, “I…..tried to give you a better memory.”

 

Ros nodded, feeling a warm flush come over her as she recalled the moment that happened. The stoic, military minded Chagrian had been very gentle with her and it was the single good memory she had, “You did……and I can never thank you enough for that kindness. I’m just so sick over what I did and I hope you can forgive me someday.”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Rusk shook his head, “I’m sorry you had to endure what that monster put you through and I’m relieved you were able to regain control. I promise you, we’ll make him pay.”

 

“On that, we agree,” Ros nodded as Kira entered the galley.

 

“We’re almost to Tython,” Kira told Ros.

 

“Thanks, Kira,” Ros nodded, “I’ll go contact the Temple.”

 

After Ros was gone, Kira turned to Rusk, “I never got the chance to thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For being a much better man than Doc,” Kira smiled, “and for what you did in the end.”

 

“You mean for taking advantage of a young woman, our friend, being controlled by that freak?” Rusk shook his head sadly, “I don’t think I deserve thanks for that.”

 

“No,” Kira told him, “Doc took advantage of her. You made love to her instead of letting her rape you…….that makes all the difference in the galaxy. I’m not sure she’ll ever be able to forgive herself for torturing us or get past her disgust over seducing Doc…….but she wouldn’t have been able to live with the memory of violating you.”

 

“Do you think she’ll ever be the same?” Rusk asked, the thought of that beautiful young woman, with her laughing eyes and unending optimism, wallowing in guilt and self-loathing was enough to still his heart with sorrow.

 

“I don’t know,” Kira sighed, “Her very soul was damaged, and only time will tell if she’ll let herself heal. All we can do is be there for her. I just wish we had time to take her home to her family.....if anyone can bring her back to herself, it's her mom and sisters.”

 

 

Author's Note: (JK Act 2 finale/Act 3 beginning spoilers)

 

I hope this was a believable scenario for what happened while Ros was under the Emperor's control. This isn't everything, just what happened to her crew. I always wondered what happened to Doc, Rusk, and T7 since the only things that are shown in game are the torture of Kira.

 

Edited by alaurin
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Week of 12/13/2013

Signed, Sealed, and Delivered – Our universes see a lot of contracts made, whether verbal gentlemen’s agreements, electronic documents, or witnessed formal pacts. Sometimes contracts are entered into willingly; sometimes they’re coerced. Sometimes they’re broken; sometimes they’re protected against outside challenges. Sometimes old agreements come back at an unexpected time. Write about a contract your character made or avoided.

 

And, as ever,

Night of the Living Prompt: Keep on using any prompt you like! Check out the list at http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=5223753&postcount=1675.

This week's featured NotLP:

...Like No One's Watching - When we're alone we often indulge ourselves in things that might embarrass us if others knew. Bad music, bad dancing, whatever it is, we'd be pretty mortified if someone caught us. This time, write about your character's secret indulgences - and how they react when it's discovered.

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So....long time in coming, but I have some more Lixor for you guys.

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Syyris saw the fugitive walking towards her. She and the other SpecOps officer had been ordered to escort the man, who they had been told was a dangerous Sith. He was a Pureblood, like she was. And probably an oddity in the Republic, also as she was. She felt for the man, but she had her orders. Her companion put the man in cuffs, and pulled him to the waiting speeder.

“Move along, Sith,” Syyris’s companion said threateningly, which seem unnecessary. He looked completely defeated. Just like she had been before……she didn’t have time to be angry. She needed to get this done, get the hell out of here, and get a strong, strong drink.

“One moment,” the prisoner said, “I’ve got one not-so-humble request before I go.”

“What would that be?” Syyris inquired, perplexed.

“Can I pay my respects to the Senate?”

“The people who just had you arrested? Okay, sure,” And Syyris stifled a laugh as their prisoner flipped his middle finger at the Tower.

“Okay, I’ve done what I wanted. Let’s ride.”

Well, he was awfully damn cheery for somebody on his way to prison. When they had caught her, she had been almost suicidal with grief for her family. House Kallig was no more. She could sense the Force in this man, as well as an unstoppable power and humor. He would rise again, and Hell help them when he did, because she could sense that he would kill everybody who had sent him here.

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

“Wow,” Lixor joked as he was pushed into his cell, and it was his cell, as in he owned the whole karking building. He looked up at Syyris, grinning, “Never been in my own prison before. Should be fun.”

“Listen up, Sith,” the still-masked SpecOps officer said threateningly, “if you attempt to escape, you will be shot. If you make trouble, you will be shot. If you attempt bribery, you will be shot.”

Attempt to escape, officer?” Lixor replied as the officer turned away, “I’m insulted. I will damn well succeed at escaping.”

 

 

 

Sorry that took so long for so little :p

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In order to not make a fibber Magee out of myself, and thus ensure that Santa doesn't give me a lump of coal in my stocking instead of underwear and socks, we will have comments!

 

Strap in, this is gonna be a loooooong ride....

 

 

@Alaurin:

“For what it’s worth, and I don’t mean to offend, but I think that bloodline stuff is crap,” Corso told him,

There are times where you just gotta love how simple Corso is, and how his naivete tends to cut through the BS. I like the maturity contrast between the Corso in this story and the Corso in Bell's story (who comes across as older/wiser). It makes them seem different, even though they're the same person, keeping that aspect fresh.

 

Y'know, Doc was my favorite companion for my male Guardian. We'd go out, have cool adventures, I'd take a little damage, he'd heal me, then try to convince me to spend the night on the town with him... good times. Since coming to this thread, I've started to really dislike Doc (and like Corso. WHAT THE HELL PEOPLE?! It's like a Bizarro SWTOR!). I really enjoyed the Ros story. When you go through that part of the JK story, you reaaaaally want to end it all there and have it out with the Emperor. Her memory coming back was really well done.

 

@Frauzet: As always, love the old Thorns stories. They always get me in the feels. That feeling of wanting to do something redeeming while in a situation where you're doing what's required to survive has to be hard on a kid. What I love is that the lessons don't go south with Thorns. He's hardened, but he still remembers where he came from.

 

@Bright: Love the addition of T5 to Call's crew. And as always, Gault managed to put a smile on my face with the salad comment.

 

Quinn's discussion with his son was very sweet, in a Quinn sort of way. I like how he immediately traces the importance of each saber and makes them sort of a milestone for Rylon's maturity level.

 

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

I really, really do love Wynston as a character so much. It's this type of thing that makes him so endearing to me. He can make the hard choices, do his duty, but he never shirks his 'humanity' when possible.

 

 

 

@Marissalf: Ok, I understand now. It's not Ellis' fault he's EVIL. He was just born OF evil, and evil's in his genes. I love that Ellis overlooks any chance that his Mother might have Hive-Minded ulterior motives for a chance to see her again.

 

Sorry, I just happen to be very anti-kilick... because they're EVIL!

 

@Yoshi: Ok, Methic in the bar getting hit on by both his female crewmates... I was crying. Well played, sir. And then when he whips out the comics? Jumped a notch on my "like" scale.

 

I loved Dha's convo with Torian. In a galaxy like SWTOR, you almsot expect Champions to be bred from a lineage that has a long history and heirlooms passed down from the ages. So often, that's hardly the case. Torian's disappointment, I felt, was right on. Dha's non-chalantness showed he'd learned that heirloom armor or black market armor, the only thing that matters is whether it keeps you alive in the field.

 

And then the house scene. I pictured it sort of like a ranch house, those guys circling around. Gave me a good visual with how you laid out the battle.

 

@Irishfino: It struck me how touching the piece is, for being as short as it is The item he was passing on meant the world to him, and in order to pass an item like that on, the person receiving it must be just as worthy. Nicely done.

 

@Sthrift: As always, your military terminology makes me feel like I'm on the base with them. Loved that when they rolled out of bed, they were all business and butt nekkid. That made me laugh. Looking forward to seeing the Sith come into the open and see what's REALLY going on on Ord Mantell.

 

However, I got to agree with Yoshi, Bro'Kian would've let Tanno run wild. Appropriate the ship? That's one thing. Appropriate the Empire's worst nightmare and staunchest Defender of the Republic? Hope you brought body bags.

 

@Striges: HOLY FREAKING CREEP FACTOR!! That was AWESOME! The descriptiveness and some of the lesser used adjectives made it feel like you were there, in the shop, feeling what the Wrath felt. And you FEARED the crone! Dude, then to find it was Zash after all that time? I applaud you, sir. Most excellent offering.

 

 

 

 

 

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:eek: behind again

 

Comments:

 

@bright_ephemera: T5-M7 is adorable.

Maybe Rylon understood after all.
Precious moments to cherish.

 

And I think I like Wynston more with every story I read about him.

 

Elara realizing that she was receiving so much more than just a heirloom, <3

 

@marissalf: So maybe Ellis isn't a monster, but his father certainly is or was. How will he get to his mother, what will happen when he does? Waiting for the followup.

 

@YoshiRaphElan: Vette and Jaesa fighting over Methic could get interesting.

featuring women dressed like that? It strikes me as uncomfortably impractical for combat.
That's a question I ask myself often when I visit the fleet, or go raiding. Playing on a PVP or PVE server has its drawbacks.

 

Dha seems to be very practical, good trait in a BH

 

@irishfino: *sigh* great way to describe Geltie's emotions.

 

@sthrift: Apart from the thrilling story, I like the details about military life that you put in your stories.

 

@alaurin: What a perfect gift from Corso and Bowdaar. Makes me see Bowdaar differently.

That goes for Rusk too. Two of the Republic side companions I didn't spent much time with.

 

@Striges: Awesome story. I love the intertwining with mythology.

 

@Xakthul: Lixor didn't hold back when confidence was distributed.

 

 

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Thank you for the kind comments on my last story. I had considered to let Thorns find the ring again someday, but I decided against it.

 

It took me some time, but here is the next part of Nikeo's story on Ord Mantell. Takes place right after this

 

Prompt - Communication Breakdown

Title - Hating Ord Mantell XII

Class - Trooper (Nikeo)

Words - About 1550

Spoilers - Spoilers for Ord Mantell Trooper and general quests

 

 

The mission room was empty except for Jorgan and a technician when Nikeo entered. The rest of his Squad should have been there by now. He wondered briefly what could have happened that would get them to delay the operation, when Jorgan addressed him.

 

“Ah, Sergeant, welcome back. Grab yourself a seat. You’re gonna be observing the op here with me.” the Cathar said.

 

Nikeo was puzzled. He didn’t have time, he had to join the others. Unless—Nikeo furrowed his brow. What had that damned Cathar done? “Observing which op? Where are Commander Tavus and the others?”

 

“Havoc Squad is infiltrating the separatists’ stronghold to retrieve the ZR-57 as we speak.” Jorgan explained.

 

“What? I was to accompany the Squad. We were to meet here in five minutes. What happened? What did you tell Tavus to make him change his mind?” A minute ago Nikeo thought that the short walk in the evening breeze had helped him to calm down. The effect had worn off rather quickly as it seemed. He spread his fingers, frantically trying to avoid balling them into fists. The urge to plant one in Jorgan’s face was undeniably there. But also undeniably that wasn’t an option. At least none with desirable consequences, however satisfactory hitting him might be.

 

Jorgan didn’t fail to notice the effect his news had on Nikeo. He raised an eyebrow, but his voice remained calm and firm when he elaborated. “Commander Tavus,” he emphasized the rank, “was very clear: Under no circumstances can I send you in to join Havoc on this mission.” He punctuated his words with a jabbing gesture. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised, I honestly thought you were starting to come along, but I guess Tavus still isn’t convinced you’re ready for the big time.” Jorgan sounded sincere.

 

Nikeo took a deep breath. So there was nothing to do about this now but to put a good face on the matter. “I trust Commander Tavus’ judgment.”

 

Jorgan nodded. “Maybe next time, Sergeant.” Jorgan sounding sympathetic somehow didn’t help at all.

 

Trying to hide his disappointment as best he could, Nikeo helped himself to a cup of caf and took a seat next to Jorgan. The minutes passed in silence. The Squad was nearing the entrance to the stronghold. There was no unnecessary communication. Suddenly the quality of the silence changed. The calm of the squad was replaced by—nothing, a slight static, the signal was gone. The technician was typing away at the keyboard. The signal didn’t return, neither audio nor visual. Nikeo and Jorgan both leaned forward. The technician started to sweat. At last he turned away from the monitors.

 

“Lieutenant, sir! We’ve got a situation here!” he said excitedly.

 

“Talk to me, Ensign. What’s going on?” Jorgan demanded sounding still calm.

 

“We’ve lost contact with Havoc Squad, sir! Comms, video, locators, everything. It’s like they’ve disappeared completely.” The technician sounded like he was going to panic.

 

Jorgan ordered him to get back to his terminal and get him Havoc’s status. The technician tried, but his attempts provided no better results than the previous ones. The connection to Havoc Squad remained dead. As it seemed it wasn’t any problem with the equipment on this side.

 

After a few minutes of waiting Nikeo got up to address Jorgan. “Send me in, Lieutenant—they may need assistance. If somebody has been leaking information to the seps, as we both suspected, the seps will have had a welcoming committee waiting for Havoc Squad. But they won’t be expecting me, sir.”

 

But Jorgan was hesitant. “It’d be breaking Tavus’ orders—”

 

“Lieutenant,” Nikeo interrupted him. “With all due respect. I know that you read my record. Ranked first in the Academy in Forward Assault, Search and Destroy, and Advance Recon. I can do this, that’s what I’ve been trained to do. We can’t afford to loose the bomb again. I know I am still inexperienced in the field, but you saw me out there, I am neither dumb nor hotheaded.” Although interrupting him with this little speech might not have been the wisest move to prove that. “Why do you still think that I am not mission worthy?”

 

They looked each other in the eyes for a few heartbeats. Jorgan nodded finally. “As I said, Sergeant, it wasn’t my decision to keep you here. Although we might be lucky we did.”

 

That was when the technician admitted defeat. “Still no signal from Havoc Squad, sir. I think we may have lost them.”

 

Nikeo shot a questioning glance at Jorgan with a slight nod at the technician.

 

After a short moment of consideration Jorgan put Nikeo’s worries at ease. “No, I trust him, he isn’t a spy. None of his information was leaked.”

 

That made Nikeo start as well as the technician. “You planted false information to see which got leaked?”

Nikeo thought about Giz for a moment. He had told the smuggler, for that was what he was when you got to the heart of the matter, that Havoc Squad was heading towards the stronghold. Could he be a spy, too? In league with Zal—no Iolith—all along? One big set up? His gut told him that that wasn’t the case. Giz was honest—well at least as honest as could be expected from someone taking the law not always quite literally. Nikeo had to trust somebody. Giz wanted his ship back, Corso hated the seps and probably was an even worse actor than Nikeo himself. Yes, he thought he could trust these two. Whom else could he trust? Jorgan! He realized that he trusted the Lieutenant. He didn’t like him after the way he had treated him, but that hardly mattered now. The Lieutenant would do what was necessary to see this mission succeed.

 

“You got to work with what you have, Sergeant.” The Cathar admitted. “All right, people, listen up. This mission will not fail on my watch.” Jorgan declared then. “We are not gonna let that bomb get away again! Infiltrating that stronghold is a mission only Havoc Squad can pull off. Lucky for us, we have one Havoc trooper left! Sergeant—you’re going in there! The ZR-57 must not remain in separatist hands. Is that clear, Sergeant?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Nikeo confirmed firmly.

 

“We were hoping to get the bomb back intact, but we’re way south of a best-case scenario here.” Jorgan noted. “So here’s the new plan: We have the deactivation code for the ZR-57. We disarm the bomb—leaving the seps with nothing but a big, radioactive paperweight.”

 

“You’ll have to hijack the separatists’ comm system to broadcast the code. This data spike should do the trick.” The technician detailed as he handed Nikeo the small device.

 

Nikeo looked at it, nodded and tucked it safely away in one of his belt pouches. He was familiar with these.

“Can you get me in contact with our outpost near the stronghold, Ensign?” Nikeo inquired.

 

The Technician looked at Jorgan, who looked questioningly at Nikeo.

 

“I read the last report from that area, sir.” Nikeo explained. “As far as I know they were planning an assault on the stronghold. I’d like to know how far they proceeded. If I sneak in alone in a borrowed sep’s uniform I don’t want to get caught between the lines. If they already launched their attack, sneaking in will not be possible anyway. Regardless, I want to know as much as I can about what I am getting into. I want all the latest intel on the stronghold, and updates till I get there.”

 

Jorgan nodded, the hint of a smile playing on his face. “You heard the Sergeant, Ensign. Contact Beach Camp!”

 

The technician established a connection with Sergeant Vandal at the Beach Camp in a minimum of time. The man was a tad busy but had vital new information for them. He had recruited two civilians—Giz and Corso—to clear a landing pad for some shuttles that would be heading to the stronghold. The two of them had already managed to infiltrate the stronghold by acting as members of the retinue of one of the separatists’ leaders who held a gathering today. Sergeant Vandal agreed to send one of the shuttles to Fort Garnik to pick Nikeo up. He’d be entering the stronghold through the back door.

 

“I never thought it’d come to this Sergeant. I don’t need to tell you what happens if you don’t pull this off.” Jorgan reminded him after the connection was closed, but he sounded confident.

 

“I’ve never failed a mission before, and I’m not gonna start today.” Nikeo knew what was at stake.

 

“That’s what I like to hear! I’m sure you can guess how much security they’re likely to have. Breach the perimeter, use that data spike on the comm terminal and shut the ZR-57 down for good. Thousands of lives are on the line here, Sergeant. We’re counting on you. Good luck, Sergeant!”

 

Somehow that made up for a lot of the trouble Jorgan had put him through earlier. He trusted that Nikeo was able to get this done. And getting some reassurance felt good, for the task at hand wouldn’t be easy to accomplish. But like he had already stated, he had no intention to fail.

 

 

Notes

 

I took the ingame conversation once more and added and altered some things. I hope I didn't bore you.

Guess I had to explain to myself why Nikeo won't balk at the prospect of working with the Cathar long-term.

 

No proofreader, so probably more errors than the times I had one :rolleyes: although I get the feeling that my English is improving. Writing has lost some of its hard-work-feeling. Statistics on my usage of internet dictionaries might render a different picture.

 

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Prompt - Shopapalooza

Title - Shoppin', Shoppin', Shoppin'

Class - Smuggler/Trooper

No spoilers

 

 

Dankin buttoned his jacket and walked into the military surplus office, shuffling his credits in his pouch. He pulled the pouch open and divided the credits up, handing a third to Corso, a third to Akaavi, and putting the last third back into the pouch.

 

"Spend carefully, my companions," he said brightly. "Don't want all our credits to go to the Republic!"

 

Corso chuckled and walked immediately over to the blaster racks. Akaavi turned and began slowly walking the perimeter of the store, looking for anything interesting. Dankin stood at the entrance, arms crossed and eyes sweeping lazily across the room. A Republic officer, clad in red and gray and with a store identification badge on his shoulder, walked up to Corso and began showing him the specifications on several of the blasters.

 

"Dankin?" a voice said from behind him.

 

Dankin turned slowly. Major Prudii stood behind him, arms crossed. Jorgan and Tanno Vik nodded to the smuggler and slid past, into the store. Prudii reached out a hand, which Dankin accepted and shook.

 

"Been too long," Dankin said. "How's the wife?"

 

"Not here," Prudii replied. "She's safely away until the baby's born."

 

Dankin cast a wary eye around the store. "You broadcast that any louder in non-public areas than you do in extremely public ones?"

 

"Relax," Prudii replied. "We're in a Republic Army base. Nothing to worry about as long as we're behind friendly lines."

 

"But those friendly lines are getting closer and closer as the enemy pushes," replied Dankin. His head nodded out toward the battlefield. "The Empire is pushing up against our borders with every passing second. And from what I hear, they're making their push." He leaned close. "Tonight."

 

Prudii tensed. "What kind of push?"

 

"The whole shebang. Artillery, infantry, air support. They'll start with a bombing run, and an artillery strike on your shields. By the time they're down, the infantry will be right outside your shields...and you won't be able to evac."

 

"How do you know this?"

 

"Info from some underworld friends in the Empire's camp."

 

Prudii nodded. "Thanks. I'll tell the base commander."

 

There was the sound of a sharp cry, and Dankin and Prudii whirled to see Corso grab the shop worker by the shoulder and hurl him to the ground before jumping atop him. Dankin's eyes widened as he realized what was going on. He turned and jumped to the floor as the grenade rack lit up. As it exploded, it engulfed the rifles and detonated their power packs. Then it was all over. Dankin rushed over to Corso. His armor was battered, and his face was bruised. He was unconscious.

 

"Blast," Dankin hissed. "We need to get him to the medbay. Now."

 

Tanno and Jorgan reached down and picked him up, quickly carrying him out of the store and toward the medbay across the base. Dankin looked down at the shop worker, who'd survived the blast relatively uninjured due to the armored Corso atop him. Grimly, Dankin looked to Prudii.

 

"It's begun," he told him.

 

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Index is up to date!

 

Comments/Replies:

 

@Yoshi: Oh-no!! Not a good ending to the shopping experience at all!! I really like how you have your different characters regularly interact with one another......always fun to see!

 

@alaurin, that was very surprising and you actually just made me like Rusk. I'll never look at him the same way again, personally. I don't know what I honestly would've done in the same situation, but I sure know what I wouldn't have done–and that's what Doc did. Bloody moron. :mad:
Thanks! I hope liking Rusk is a good thing....:). It was an ugly situation they were all put in and certainly not an easy one. Its been a while since I finished the JK storyline and I hope I did ok with the companions.

 

 

@DarthSillyMonkey: I'm glad you are liking my stuff and thank you......I've tried to make Bella and Val's versions of Corso a little different from one another while trying to stay mostly true to his character. Bella's Corso is a little older and more mature and Val's Corso is younger and more niave.....this next installment will show a little more of that. As for Doc, I've never liked him much personally......maybe it's because I'm female and his flirting comes across as a little sleezy. Also, my JK is very light side......maybe I could see the romance happening for a DS JK, but Ros will not end up romancing Doc.....I have someone else in mind for her ;). It will be interesting to see Doc from a male character's perspective......Jakob is on Tatooine right now, so it will be a little bit before I get to find out.

 

 

@frauzet: Oh, I liked that next part and what you did with Nik and Jorgan. Their situation at the end of Ord is a very awkward one and I enjoy seeing how different people write about that.

 

@alaurin: What a perfect gift from Corso and Bowdaar. Makes me see Bowdaar differently.

That goes for Rusk too. Two of the Republic side companions I didn't spent much time with.

I'm glad you liked those stories.....that last one about Ros was not an easy thing to write and I felt really bad for what I put them through! I didn't spend much time with Bowdaar or Rusk the first time around either which is why I'm re-leveling the characters I'm writing about. I want to get a better feel for them, since one of them will be playing an important role soon.....

 

 

Ok, storytime!!!! I'll now take you back to Kat, Tia, and Val's saga......kinda longish ~2700 words, definitely more cheerful than the last one!

 

Title: Just Another Day on Nar Shaddaa….

Prompt: Good/Bad Memories, some Affection, and a little Signed, Sealed, and Delivered

Character: Valaya-Smuggler

Setting: Nar Shaddaa, just after this

Spoilers: Smuggler Nar Shaddaa

 

 

 

“Everything alright, Captain?” Corso asked as they climbed into the taxi. They’d gone to the Eco Terrorists hideout only to find that Momi wasn’t there. Her friend, Tyrka, was and after a little ‘hostile negotiation,’ Val found out that Momi was with some scientist, Lazhae. They left the unconscious Tyrka and decided to meet up with Drooga’s pleasure barge to see if Ga’ram knew anything about Lazhae and where they might find him.

 

“I think so,” she answered, eyeing him carefully, “Why do you ask?”

 

She’d been quieter than normal as they made their way through the Red Light District, only speaking when necessary, and Corso worried that she might be feeling the stress of everything that’d been happening these past few weeks. He had to admit, it was a lot for anyone to take in……she’d had her ship stolen and had been reunited with her long lost friend only to have her disappear a few days later, seemingly to defect. She later found out Tia hadn’t really defected, but had taken on a very dangerous mission behind enemy lines. The self-proclaimed loner was then saddled with him, and later Aric, someone she blamed for Tia being in her current predicament. She seemed to get used to the both of them during their time on Coruscant and they finally got her ship back. However, Risha entered the picture with a bold business proposal, which a mistrustful Val agreed to go along with under the agreement that her missions to help bring Tia back came first. Then it was on to Port Raga, where Val was nearly blown up and next came Taris, after seeing a gut wrenching message from Tia. Taris was far from a pleasant place and soon after their arrival, Val found herself coldly torturing a man for information for the second time in her young life, something that both he and Aric could tell troubled the pixie like Mirialan.

 

If that wasn’t bad enough, he ended up kissing her a couple days later when she tried to wake him. He felt a jolt to his body as he recalled how far he’d gotten before realization came in. He was so afraid he’d scared off the woman he was already so smitten with, but luckily, she had feelings for him as well. They were taking things slowly, Val being inexperienced and knowing nothing about relationships. She seemed to be a little more comfortable after her girls’ night with Risha and Elara, so Corso hoped they’d been able to help her. He’d noticed she’d started dressing a little differently, simple changes that made her clothing less concealing and the effect was stunning. The Mirialan was petite, but with help from Risha and Elara, her small curves showed through nicely and Corso definitely noticed. It made him wonder what she’d bought while shopping at the lingerie boutique.

 

“You with me, Corso,” Val asked, breaking into his thoughts as the taxi was landing, “You seemed a million klicks away there….”

 

Corso blushed as they got out of the taxi, a little embarrassed at the direction his thoughts had taken, “Yeah, just thinking about everything that’s happened these past few weeks.”

 

“I’m fine, Corso,” Val assured him softly, touching his arm, “I’m just a little tired, that’s all……and really eager to get this delivery over with so we can get the void off this planet. Being back here isn’t easy for me.” She swept her arms out in front of her, “All of this brings back memories…..Kat and I used to work the Red Light district, running cons and pickpocketing. Tia used to dance in Club Ufora and Zyra cleaned there.” When she saw the look on Corso’s face, she shook her head, “No, things like what happened to those Republic Fleet officers weren’t going on then, at least not that blatantly. The owner we just dealt with is new and there were never slave cages when Tia and Zyra worked there……in fact, that whole area was part of the club. That’s where the dancers worked.”

 

They’d rescued one of the officers from the club and went on to free his fellows deeper in the Red Light sector, but unfortunately, it was too late. Most of the men had been killed, and a Rattaki doctor was grafting their faces onto Imperial soldiers. They would be used as sleeper agents, planted on various Republic ships. Corso and Val rescued the commander and the doctor was taken into custody, barely able to stand upright after Val delivered her own brand of justice to his nether region.

 

“I still can’t believe she was a cantina dancer,” Corso shook his head, unable to equate the young, talented soldier he’d met with the dancers he’d seen in cantinas, “She was only seventeen when she was taken into the military.”

 

“She started dancing when she was sixteen,” Val corrected, not surprised by the shock on his face, “and by Nar Shaddaa standards, that isn’t young at all. Tia’s boss had hinted at wanting Zyra to dance and she was only twelve.”

 

Corso felt disgust burning in his gut at the idea of a child dancing for men’s entertainment and it must have shown on his face because Val squeezed his arm, “I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it. This is Nar Shaddaa and if you don’t have money, you do what you have to in order to survive……it’s just how it is and it’s neither easy, nor pretty……it’s life on the streets.”

 

“I’m so sorry you girls had to live like that,” Corso murmured.

 

“Me too,” Val nodded, “So why all the concern for me?”

 

“You just seem a little off this afternoon,” Corso told her, “I was worried stuff might be getting to you…..”

 

“Don’t be,” Val sighed, feeling a little giddy at the fact that this sweet, thoughtful, handsome man wanted to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t used to someone caring about her well-being like that. For so long, it had just been her, Tia, and Kat….and Tia had been gone for these last five years, “I’m dealing with things……I just sometimes need to process, that’s all. I’m not used to being around so many people either and that can be overwhelming to someone like me. Since Kat began her part of our plan, it’s just been me and SeeTwo on that ship…..until Ord.”

 

“And now you’ve got me and Risha on board,” Corso finished, “along with regular visitors.”

 

“More each day it seems……but hey, I’ll adjust,” Val shrugged, “If I need some alone time, I’ll just lock myself in my quarters with a HoloNovel.”

 

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Corso whispered, feeling guilty for having insisted on accompanying her back on Ord.

 

“Please, don’t be,” Val told him, having a good idea where his train of thought was headed, “I’m glad you came with me. I have so much uncertainty in my life right now, but you’re not part of that. You’ve been there for me, a constant since Skavak stole my ship that awful morning. I value that……you, Corso,” and because it seemed to be the natural thing to do, Val leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed that sweet man, who responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close as he deepened the kiss.

 

“Better?” Val whispered, a little breathless, and a shy half smile formed on her lips as her cheeks colored slightly. Corso simply nodded and took her hand as they continued on.

 

“Besides, it’s not so bad to be around people,” she grinned at him, her blue grey eyes dancing, “Wow, never thought I’d say that…..but it’s true. I’m getting used to Risha……I still think she’s keeping something from us, but I get the feeling its personal. Elara is really nice and under that grouchy exterior, Jorgan is a good man.” Val couldn’t help the sudden giggle that escaped with the memory of waking him up early that morning to help with Kat.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“I shouldn’t……he’d be mad.”

 

“Did something happen?”

 

“Uh, kinda……okay, but don’t ever tell him I said anything to you,” Val whispered, “Elara, Mako, and I needed help getting Kat out of the tank this morning and you’d locked the door. You must have been out because Risha was pounding for a good five minutes on it. Anyways, we decided to just wake Aric. Well, when we went into the rec room, he was……ummm…..sorta having……uh dream. A really good dream…..you know.....about..”

 

“About Tia,” Corso finished, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice, “Yeah, he told me before Balkar showed up at his ship. Please tell me you girls didn’t say anything to Kat……it’s not exactly something a guy has control over.”

 

“You’re the only person I’ve told,” Val grinned, “and I can’t speak for Mako, but I really don’t think Elara is ever going to say a word. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Aric that uncomfortable before……I mean, that must have been one hell of a dream and he was begging her to stay…….I think he really likes her.”

 

“Well, that’s something he has to figure out,” Corso sighed, not wanting to reveal too much……it wasn’t his place and he considered Aric a friend.

 

“Yeah, I get the idea he’s a little unsure about things,” Val nodded, “I feel kinda bad about my snarky comment after we put Kat in the tank…..calling him out the way I did. My people skills really aren’t that great sometimes.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Corso assured her, “Maybe it helped him think on it a little.” He knew all too well the result of that……one of the reasons the Cathar ended up sleeping on the rec room couch in the first place. As soon as Val left, Aric had done a little soul searching and the realization that he felt more than just simple attraction slapped him in the face. After seeing the look on his new friend’s face, Corso steered the rattled Cathar to the Rec room for a beer and Huttball to help ease the shock.

 

They spotted some Imperials ahead, but Val was in a hurry and didn’t want to waste time fighting. She touched the stealth generator on her belt and Corso, seeing that signal, stepped closer to her. As soon as she felt Corso’s hand on her hip, Val activated the generator and they quietly made their way past the Imperials unnoticed.

 

A short time later, Val and Corso were boarding Drooga’s pleasure barge. They saw Bowdaar being led away by Drooga’s guards and he barked a greeting to Val. Val waved, wondering what the kind Wookiee’s fate was going to be. She spotted the blue skinned Twi’lek and they approached him immediately.

 

“What’s the story with Bowdaar?” Val asked Drooga’s nasal voiced assistant.

 

“He belonged to a gambler,” Ga’ram explained, “The gambler owed Drooga a debt and the Wookiee became collateral until the debt is paid. Unfortunately, that was months ago and we haven’t heard from him since.”

 

“What if the gambler never returns?” Corso asked. Val already had a good idea of what the answer would be before Ga’ram spoke.

 

“Then he becomes Drooga’s property to do whatever he wants with,” Ga’ram shrugged, “However, I trust that the Wookiee’s fate isn’t the reason you are here.”

 

“We got a lead on Drooga’s female shanjaru,” Val told Ga’ram, “Momi Andrell is in cahoots with some scientist, Lazhae…….any idea who that is?”

 

“Unfortunately, yes,” Ga’ram sighed, “Lazhae is a genetic engineer that currently resides in Shadow Town, a small sector that serves primarily as an Imperial prison complex. He’s been known for some gruesome creations and before he was imprisoned, Drooga purchased some of his beast experiments for entertainment…….ghastly creatures, abominations. If Lazhae has the shanjaru, it may already be too late.”

 

“This guy must be pretty bad to be enough for even the Imperials to lock him up,” Val snorted, “I’ll see what I can do though……I haven’t come this far to fail now.”

 

“Watch yourself,” Ga’ram warned, “Shadow Town is a dangerous place to be.”

 

Val and Corso turned to leave as Drooga began shouting for Ga’ram to take the barge to its next destination. The couple hurried to leave Drooga’s before the barge left and nearly ran into a very large Bounty Hunter in freshly polished armor.

 

“Just the woman I was looking for,” the mountain of a man addressed them, “I’m Zank Helrott, Rogun’s personal Bounty Hunter. He wishes to speak with you.”

 

“That’s just too bad,” Val retorted, squinting a little at the glare reflecting off Helrott’s shiny armor.

 

“You like my armor,” Zank laughed, “I polished it just for the occasion…..part of my ritual whenever I close in on a target.”

 

“Well, I really hate to be picky,” Val replied, narrowing her gaze, “But you missed a spot…..no big deal really, those things just always stand out to me……I tend to be a bit of a clean freak. It really annoys the hell out of most people so I apologize……please, go on. You were saying I was about to die or something like that…..”

 

“Yeah,” Zank began, then started checking his plating over, “Did I really miss a spot?”

 

“Afraid so,” Val nodded.

 

“Where?” he asked, “I’m not seeing it.”

 

“I think it’s the angle of the lighting that is making it stand out to me,” Val studied him as she approached, “Here, let me show you……it’s right here.”

 

Par for the course, with that last word Val kicked Zank as hard as she could in his unarmored manhood and the hunter dropped to his knees. Corso already had his rifle up as Val tore the hunter’s helmet off and emptied her blaster into his skull.

 

“You’re never going to stop doing that, are you?” Corso sighed as they left the barge.

 

“Nope,” Val replied, “Why would I stop taking advantage of such an easy weakness? I mean, come on…..that’s just stupid!”

 

“One of these days it’s going to be a woman,” Corso eyed her thoughtfully, “What are you going to do then?”

 

“I figure something out when the time comes.”

 

“You sure about that?”

 

“One thing that living on the streets of Nar Shaddaa teaches you it to read people, something I haven’t failed at yet,” Val shrugged, then turned to face him, “Look, it’s the same as when I was pick pocketing and running cons with Kat. You see your mark, find his or her weakness, and exploit it. It’s the same with enemies or anything for that matter. You think Kat just goes out and kills her target like that?” Val snapped her fingers, “No…..she studies her target, gets all the info she can, figures out a strategy, makes her plan, and executes it. Tia was a dancer in a cantina and she would watch the crowd carefully, planning her moves to appeal to the majority, earning her more tips and repeat business. Now that she’s a soldier, she does the same…..she studies her enemy, much like I do, she sees a weakness and exploits it with whatever is at her disposal.”

 

“I’m glad you ladies are on my side,” Corso nodded.

 

“Speaking of that,” Val snickered, “This little plan that Aric and Agent Balkar cooked up……you better watch yourselves. I think it’s a bad idea for many reasons, but if those two are determined to go through with it, make sure you’re ready for combat because Tia is going to put up one hell of a fight.”

 

“Nothing’s been set in stone yet,” Corso told her, “and I don’t like it much either, but I understand where they’re coming from.”

 

“Well, we’ll talk it out back at my ship later,” Val shrugged, “and I’m sure Kat’s going to have a lot to say on the matter.”

 

Edited by alaurin
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@alaurin: I love pointing out the smudge in his armor to him. Such an obvious diversionary tactic yet he's stupid enough to fall for it!

 

@Yoshi:Thanks! I hope liking Rusk is a good thing....:). It was an ugly situation they were all put in and certainly not an easy one. Its been a while since I finished the JK storyline and I hope I did ok with the companions.

 

You did great! And liking Rusk is definitely a good thing; thanks to you now Skadge is the only companion I truly dislike!

 

 

Prompt - Turning Points

Title - Moving Camp, Pt. 1

Class - Trooper/Jedi Knight/Smuggler

Minor Balmorra world arc spoilers, and a minor JK Act 3 spoiler

 

 

Prudii walked nervously out of Base Commander Madine's office. He hadn't worked with the man since Balmorra, and he was worried there'd be hard feelings about the way things there had been left off. Fortunately, Madine had let bygones be bygones, and he had heeded Prudii's advice–and Dankin's intel. He was prepared to move base at the slightest provocation.

 

"How's Corso?" he asked, stepping out into the sunlight.

 

"Medics say he'll be fine," Jorgan responded for the group. "Has to stay in the kolto for a while though. Shame, too; he'll miss all the fighting."

 

"I got the techs to fire up the ray shields double-front, by the way," Dankin added. "We're ready for them."

 

"Are you going to move Corso to your ship?"

 

Dankin shook his head. "No, the medics said if the enemy attacks, they may go for the landing pads first. If they do, then Corso will be undefended on the ship."

 

"Sounds smart to me," Prudii agreed.

 

The group was headed for the medbay when there was a sharp crack. Instantly, Havoc Squad was on the ground, weapons in hand. Dankin's crew flew for cover, drawing their own weapons as they did. A squadron of Imperial bombers roared overhead, their bombs dropping. The shields quivered but didn't fall. Prudii stood cautiously.

 

"Dankin, get to your ship and lift off, now," he said. "Don't wait for clearance, I'll handle it. But stay in this area; we need to be able to transmit the next location of the outpost to you."

 

Dankin nodded and turned to his crew. "Guss, Akaavi, go get Corso and bring him to the ship. Risha, Bowdaar, you're with me; you'll man the turbolasers."

 

Prudii was addressing his own team. "Jorgan, round up the troops and prepare to defend from attackers. Tanno, Forex, help the engineers break down the base and pack it up. Yuun, HK-51, guard the medbay until all the prisoners are evacuated."

 

Havoc Squad and Dankin's team broke off. Prudii sprinted back to the command center and broke inside to find Commander Madine and Jasin, supreme commander of the Jedi forces, inside, pacing around a holomap of the base and its surrounding fields. He stormed up to Madine.

 

"What the kriff, Commander?" he exclaimed. "Where's the evac order?"

 

Madine and Jasin looked up. "Sorry," Madine offered. "We're a bit busy planning the defense." He motioned to a terminal. "You can order the evac if you want."

 

Jasin turned to Prudii. "Sorry about this, Major. I didn't realize he hadn't called for evac yet."

 

Prudii shook his head knowingly. "No worries, Jasin. Not your fault."

 

Jasin nodded and returned his gaze to Madine. "My Jedi Knights will go outside the shield and fight off the Imperials until everyone is evacuated."

 

"Thank you, Master Jedi," Madine replied. "That would be very helpful."

 

Prudii activated the base intercom. "Attention all Republic forces: make preparations to evacuate immediately. Repeat, make preparations to evacuate immediately. Launch fighters to cover medical shuttles. Injured personnel and civilians out first. That is all."

 

Prudii turned, nodded stiffly to Madine, and followed Jasin rapidly outside. The shield was still flickering, but was now doing so with even more intensity; the Empire had begun launching artillery shells. Soon the shield would be down entirely. Jorgan was leading several squads of Republic soldiers to the camp perimeter. Jasin snapped several orders into his comlink; a moment later several Jedi were moving toward the perimeter, as well.

 

"We'll have to fight long enough for the engineers and maintenance droids to break down the buildings into their compact squares and load them onto the shuttles' mag-clamps," Prudii noted.

 

Jasin took his lightsaber off his belt. "Then we will. May the Force be with us."

 

 

 

I haven't decided on a definitive planet for them to be on right now; just imagine they're in Fort Garnik only the surroundings are less mountainous and arboreal, and more forest and swamp.

 

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And now for a lighter piece before I continue my previous story...

 

Prompt - Culture Shock

Title - Happy Life Day!

Class - Jedi Knight

No spoilers

 

 

Jasin frowned at the utter confusion in Carrick Station. There was always a bit of chaos here, a bit of hustle and bustle. But never like this. People rushed around between GTN terminals and vendors, buying and selling items. Wookiees growled cheerful tunes while red-robed humans and aliens played instruments behind them. And, craziest of all, people were throwing snowballs. Snowballs.

 

"What. The. Kriff?" Jasin exclaimed.

 

"It's Life Day," Kira said brightly. "It's the first year that Carrick Station has allowed open celebration aboard it. The Wookiees and their Master of Ceremonies are taking advantage of it."

 

Jasin felt his Force senses tingle, and he ducked as a snowball shot over his head. He whirled to see a Republic trooper standing there, laughing and pointing at him. Jasin's eyes narrowed.

 

"Master of Ceremonies," he said. "Give me your best snowballs."

 

Jasin took aim and let fly. The snowball smacked straight into the trooper's face. He stopped laughing. Then, with an impish grin, he picked up another snowball. Jasin ducked for cover...only to be splattered as Kira threw a snowball of her own.

 

"Okay," Jasin said, "it's on."

 

Snow flew.

 

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Prompt: Signed, Sealed and Delivered

Corso and Miriah

Minor spoilers for early Ch 1 smuggler storyline

 

 

Miriah walked toward the forward deck and the mess hall in her new boots, a smile on her face, and her feet happy. She spotted her traveling companion easily. Corso stood out among the crowd, his handsome face open and warm to everyone around him. It’s like he has this magnetism, she thought, seeing a child tug on his sleeve. Corso bent to talk to the young man, and when he rose, they were both laughing. He spotted her then, and moved away from the others to walk with her to a table.

 

“I’m starving,” she said, beckoning a service droid.

 

“Bout time,” he chuckled. “I was beginning to think you were one of those girls who only ate on odd numbered days or something.” She grinned at the jibe, and proceeded to order a regular meal. Just to show him, she thought, I’ll even order desert. They sat back to wait on their food, sipping drinks. “I’ll be glad to be on Coruscant,“ he said. “Never been there before.”

 

“Really?” she asked. “I figured with all your time working in shipping goods on Ord you’d have travelled to the capitol every so often.” She nibbled on the bread that had been placed on their table.

 

“Nope, left all that to the guys in the offices,” he told her, slicing another piece of bread and placing it in front of her. “You’ve been there?” He watched her face as she sighed, seeing revulsion and fear before she smoothed her features into calm.

 

“Many times, “ she said, and picked up the bread. “I haven’t been back in a while, though.” She met his calm gaze for only a moment before looking away. “Oh look, here’s our food.” She waited while the server placed their meals in front of them, gave the young man a smile that had him blushing, and began to eat. Corso could only watch as she devoured her food. “Eat up, Riggs,” she told him. “Never know when we’ll get the opportunity to have a relaxed, delicious, hot meal. Have to take advantage of it,” she said, pointing at him with her fork. He smiled and ducked his head. The food was excellent and the company better, he thought. He ate, savoring the fact that they were together as much as the food.

 

Miriah sat back, patting her full stomach. “Now that was good,” she said, and gave him one of her brilliant smiles. He felt himself blush just as their server had. What was it that she had, that made him want to be near her, made him fidget when he wasn’t? “What’s the matter, Corso?” she asked, sipping another Hutt tequila the service droid had left.

 

“N-n-nothing,” he stammered, blushing again. “Just wondering where someone as small as you puts so much food.” Her delighted giggle made him blush deeper. “I figure we’ll be able to find good things on Coruscant, don’t you?”

 

“The only good thing there is my ship,” she said, her mood suddenly shifting to serious. “Believe me, that’s all that’s worth anything on that planet.” She took a gulp of her drink then, refusing to meet his eyes. Her memories of Coruscant felt like a deep black hole, sucking her in. He wouldn’t even sit with me if he knew, she thought. Hell, I wouldn’t sit with me either. She shook her head to clear it, and stood, intending to take her fresh drink with her to her room.

 

Corso stood as well, taking the full glass from her hand. Before she could protest, he spoke. “I want to make a deal with you, Captain,” he told her. “We go to Coruscant, get both your ship and my blaster back, and you tell me why just talking about a planet makes you afraid.” She raised her eyes to his, startled that he’d seen so much in her face, and mutely nodded. He stuck his large hand toward her, and she put her hand in his, feeling his firm grip and hearty shake throughout her body. They walked back to their quarters, neither speaking.

 

Corso murmured a “G’night, Captain,” as he entered his room. The warmth of her small hand spread through him as he reveled in the memory of her touch, and he could do nothing but lie on the small, hard bed, thinking of her.

 

Miriah slowly took off her boots, and fell back on her own small, hard bed. Kark, this is turning out to be a nightmare, she thought. First we get these second rate cabins, then I happen to be working with a man who can see right through me. She turned on her side, trying to get comfortable, and remembered the warmth that spread through her when they shook hands. She felt her body relax, and drifted to sleep.

 

 

Edited by Magdalane
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@Yoshi: Oh no......poor heroic Corso! I hope they all get out of there alright.....GAH, cliffhangers! Also, loved the snowball fight!!!! As for Val, glad you liked her most recent dirty kick gag.......that scene was just asking for it in game!!

 

@Magdalane: Miriah and Corso are so sweet!!! I always love reading about them and hope they can get through Coruscant alright, knowing she doesn't have good memories of that place.

 

 

Ok, so I wrote this silly thing and decided to share it.......hope you enjoy!

 

 

Title: A Dirty Little Secret

Prompt: Like No One’s Watching, Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Roslynd-JK, Mallayse-trooper, Kira, Doc, Rusk, Elara, Jorgan, Vik

Setting: Thunderclap, Defender, just after JK Hoth and before this.

Spoilers: JK Hoth, who the trooper companions are.

 

 

“Hey look, Elara,” Mallay called out, “Our stalker pissed off another girl.”

 

“I see,” Elara grinned, “Two actually…..the Holy Knight was a decoy. Our stalker just got stunned by a Rogue……and now he’s dead.”

 

“Those two are good…..oh, wait, I think they’re going to get him again!”

 

“What are you two doing?” Aric asked as he entered the rec room, finding his mate and their medic laughing at their laptops.

 

“Watching some idiot get his a*s handed to him by two women,” Mallay giggled.

 

Aric watched the scene unfold from Mallay’s screen, wincing at the havoc the two Elven women wrought on the Human Priest, “Oh, they’re just messing with him now. A bit unfair, don’t you think?”

 

“Bringing back unpleasant memories, dear?” Mallay smirked, her blue eyes twinkling when Aric growled at her.

 

“Hey, I was still new at this gaming stuff back then,” Aric tried to defend himself, “and you were a mean little thing.”

 

“HA!” Mallay snorted, “You were the one who kept attacking me…..and you got Elara and Tanno to help you.”

 

“Hey, Elara and Tanno offered……they thought you were being mean too!” Aric grinned as he set up his laptop, “Damn, those two are really sticking it to that poor sucker.”

 

“Trust me, Aric,” Elara insisted, “That guy deserves it!”

 

“And then some,” Mallay agreed, “You should see some of the things he was messaging to me and Elara a few minutes ago!

 

“He was very persistent,” Elara shook her head, “annoying, but persistent. It took Mallay roasting him several times before he finally left us alone.”

 

“Now it looks like he found others to pester,” Mallay grinned, “and they don’t like him any better. You could learn something from that Rogue, Aric…..she’s pretty good!”

 

“I’ve gotten better,” Aric muttered, still not entirely comfortable with the PvP aspect of the game, “Vik said he wanted to grab a quick shower before we start running instances.”

 

“What about Yuun?” Mallay asked, “He was looking tired earlier.”

 

“He went to bed,” Aric nodded, “I think he’s finally getting that crap we all had last week. We’ll need to find three more if we want to try raiding.”

 

“He is,” Elara confirmed, “I gave him an antibiotic earlier. I’ll check in on him before we start.”

 

“I’m sure we can find some people,” Mallay shrugged, “Oops, looks like we’ve been spotted spying……Valkyrie just whispered me asking if Studmuffinz was our friend.”

 

*****

 

Sergeant Rusk was making his way through the Defender in search of his new commanding officer. The Chagrian soldier had just finished storing his belongings and was pondering his new assignment. He felt that last mission on Hoth was a success and had enjoyed working with the Jedi masters. However, despite his deep respect for the Order, he was unsure about being assigned under the command of one. He even wondered if his reassignment to Jedi Knight Roslynd was some sort of punishment by General Grayne, but he had his new orders and would give the young Jedi his best.

 

The muffled sounds of laughter caught his attention as he passed the small corridor where Master Roslynd’s quarters were. Curious, he approached and was about to knock when the door opened and Jedi Kira appeared. Behind the snarky young redheaded Human, Rusk could see Roslynd on laying on her stomach across the foot of the bed, her long, thick, white blond hair unbound and nearly reaching her waist, with a laptop computer in front of her. Those silver eyes were dancing with amusement as she turned her gaze from the screen to him.

 

“Told you someone was out there,” Kira smirked back at her friend.

 

“Sergeant Rusk,” Ros smiled at her newest crewmember, “You looked so focused earlier and I didn’t want to bother you. Are you all settled in? Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

“No, Master Roslynd,” Rusk bowed, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve stored my belongings and was just getting acquainted with the ship.”

 

“Oh, I’d be happy to show you around…..and please, just call me Ros,” she insisted, “No need for formalities here…..besides, I’m not a Master yet, just a Jedi Knight and…….oh crap, Kira, he’s back!”

 

Rusk watched as Kira hurried over to the desk where another laptop was sitting and suddenly both woman were intently focused as they furiously typed on their keyboards. Rusk stepped into the doorway, finally tearing his gaze away from the strikingly beautiful Human on the bed to look more closely at her computer screen, and was a little surprised at what he saw. He never would’ve guessed that the two young Jedi were the type to play MMORPG’s. Then a shout of, “Oh, come on……dammit,” came from downstairs and both Ros and Kira were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes.

 

“I don’t think this is ever going to get old!” Kira giggled, wiping tears from her eyes.

 

“I know, right……oh, damn,” Ros swore as she jumped up at the sound of someone stomping up the stairs, “He’s coming upstairs!”

 

Rusk found himself being pulled into the room and Ros quickly shut the door behind him, “What…..”

 

“Shhhhh,” she whispered, stifling a giggle as she touched a finger to his lips. He was mortified to find his body reacting to her touch and hoped it didn’t show, that is inappropriate, soldier…..she’s a Jedi, she’s essentially your Commanding Officer, and you’re nearly twice her age…..he kept telling himself over and over. He could hear Doc muttering as the medic went into the galley and a few minutes later, they heard him going back downstairs.

 

“Okay, you’ve found out our dirty little secret,” Kira narrowed her blue eyed gaze at Rusk, “You can’t tell anyone.”

 

“Is that Fantasy Kingdoms of War?” Rusk finally asked.

 

“It sure is,” Ros raised a slender brow at him, “You play?”

 

“A little,” Rusk admitted, a little embarrassed by that fact, then tried to defend something that was so out of character for him, “I thought it would be a different way to try new strategies. I don’t have much time for that kind of stuff though and I’ve only just finished leveling. This is the first game I’ve ever played……a couple of guys from Hoth got me playing it a while back.”

 

“Hey, it’s not a crime to have a little fun once in a while you know,” Ros told him, not buying the strategy excuse, “It’s our first game too. Oh, he’s back on…..”

 

“Is that Doc?” Rusk asked, putting the pieces together after seeing Ros and Kira killing a Priest and hearing their medic shout when the Priest died, “Why are you killing him?”

 

“Because we can’t in real life,” Kira quipped, sending Ros into another fit of giggles.

 

“I’m sorry, Sergeant,” Ros finally managed after a moment, “You probably think we’re awful, but he’s just such a pest sometimes. He’s always hitting on us, despite the fact that we’ve told him over and over again that we’re not interested.”

 

“You can call me Fideltin…..or Rusk if you prefer,” he told them, “Does he know? In game I mean…”

 

“Nope,” Kira answered, “and we’d like to keep it that way.”

 

“It’s kinda like therapy,” Ros grinned, nodding at the Priest’s corpse, “we play in here because Doc’s not allowed anywhere near my quarters. Oh, hey Kira……we’re being watched.”

 

“I see them…..Firebelle and Nightengale,” Kira raised a brow, “You think their friends of Doc’s?”

 

“Now there’s a scary thought,” Ros shuddered as she started typing, “Doc with female friends……I’ll ask.”

 

“He’s back up……stunning him,” Kira called out as she quickly started typing again.

 

Rusk quietly watched in awe as Ros began unloading a barrage of Holy strikes and Righteous Fury on the Priest while Kira used him as a pincushion from behind, “Remind me to never upset either of you,” Rusk muttered, shaking his head at the carnage.

 

“NOT AGAIN!!” Doc’s yell could be heard from the medbay downstairs, “THIS IS SO UNFAIR!”

 

Ros and Kira burst out laughing again. It was infectious and Rusk felt a smile cross his own face as he watched Ros wipe tears from her eyes, her golden skin flushed from her laughter.

 

“Oh stars,” Kira coughed, holding her stomach, “It’s actually starting to hurt.”

 

“Firebelle says they’re definitely NOT friends with Studmuffinz!” Ros giggled, clutching her own stomach, “Apparently Doc was stalking them earlier and Firebelle had to fry him several times before he finally got the message and left them alone. They were just having fun watching us kill him repeatedly.”

 

“Ugh,” Kira snorted, as Ros typed a response, “I can only imagine what he said……”

 

***

 

Mallay laughed as she got another message from Valkyrie, “I guess Studmuffinz hits on them every time he’s in the same battleground with them. She says she and Darkangel actually know the guy in real life and he has no idea it’s them.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Mallay nodded as another message came, “I guess he’s just as obnoxious in real life, so they bait him in battlegrounds just so they can kill him and laugh when they hear him yelling in the other room.”

 

“I like these girls,” Tanno chuckled from the doorway.

 

“You would,” Aric snorted, then thought of something, “You should ask them if they want to join us for raiding. We need three more.”

 

“Good idea, hon,” Mallay nodded, typing to Valkyrie, “Maybe they know someone else.”

 

****

 

“So Rusk, what do you play?”

 

“An Elven Ranger.”

 

“Nice!” Ros nodded.

 

“You should play with us,” Kira suggested, “Perfect way to unwind and kill time in hyperspace.”

 

“Only you have to promise to never ever tell Doc,” Ros eyed him, “or my sisters……we used to tease Mallay for playing this stuff when we were younger and she’d never let me live it down that I got hooked.”

 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Rusk assured her, the hint of a smile on his usually serious face, “I’m not very good at this gaming stuff yet.”

 

“So what,” Ros told him, “We all have to start somewhere. Besides, you can get to know us and actually have some fun……..hey Kira, Firebelle wants to know if we’d like to run some instances with them.”

 

“Sure!”

 

“They need one more…….Rusk?” Ros asked as she told Firebelle that she and Kira were in.

 

“I don’t know……I just leveled and my gear is terrible,” he admitted sadly. He wasn’t used to having people want to interact socially with him, but was pleased these two did and he found himself wanting to take them up on their offer.

 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Ros told him as she typed, grinning a moment later when she got a response, “Firebelle says to tell you no worries about gear and to get your a*s online!”

 

 

Author's Note:

 

Fantasy Kingdoms of War is a game I made up and was introduced here.

 

Edited by alaurin
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We wish you a merry stories and a happy new comments!

 

... which is a lot different than happy newd comments, which usually happens a week later.

 

 

@Frauzet: Your english looks good to me! Looks like all that writing is paying off! I enjoy the Nik/Thorns stories a lot. I'm a bit sad that there's no more Zal, but maybe she'll worm her way back in later somehow! Eager to see how the storming of the stronghold goes!

 

@Alaurin:

“You’re never going to stop doing that, are you?” Corso sighed as they left the barge.

HAHA! Poor Corso. He's right though. One day Val's gonna come across someone that doesn't work on, and that'll be a day to read about!

 

Studmuffinz HAHAHAHA! Niiice. Poor Doc. NOTHING in game is worse than getting trolled in PvP.

 

@Magdalane: The last part with Corso? where he makes the deal? Loved it! Corso comes across as more than a backwater hick, but less than an overt take charge guy. A perfect mix of "We're in this together" and "I'd really like to know more about her". Nicely done.

 

@Yoshi: The Lifeday piece was a nice, lively precursor to the coming storm (I read that first), especially when his force sense doesn't save him from Kiira's snowball.

 

The battle pieces were great. Nice and tense. I liked how you were able to share the spotlight with all, and not make just one the focus. Everyone had a part, and each part was equally important. Good job.

 

 

 

 

 

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@Magdalane, it's awesome that she shows Corso how she can eat! :cool:

 

@alaurin, I imagine my brother would be Doc...never knowing it was his friends he was getting killed by and getting totally enraged by it. I know he wouldn't hit on female characters though; he's run as too many female alts and had guys do it to him. :p

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I've been so bad on comments that I'm probably on Santa's naughty list by now....oh, kark it, I was probably there anyway!

 

Comments:

 

 

 

Alaurin, love bringing some depth to Rusk, even in the gaming piece. I only had him for a short time with my own JK so to see him in a different light is awesome. The gaming piece was great :D I read somewhere lately that female gamers make up a much larger percentage than most think. And I'm fully behind camping Doc!

 

Xakthul, I'm intrigued by your story, and look forward to more.

 

Frauzet, well done! You showed why there was conflict but also started building trust between Nikeo and Jorgan. Love pulling his smuggler friend in as well!

 

Yoshi, I love your integration of your legacy characters. The shopping story had such an unexpected ending ( and at least my Corso hates the kolto tank). The snowball fight was excellent as well.

 

 

 

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Look kids! What's that in your stocking? It's another Trooper story!

 

... No, you can't exchange it for a PS4...

 

Prompt: Congratulations/Awards / Affection

Class: Trooper (Bro'Kian / Kiera'Kian)

Title: I'm No Hero

Words: 2,920'ish

Timeframe: After this

Spoilers: None

 

Mando/ Huttese trans: (Vod - Brother/Sister) (Vod'ika - Little Brother) (Jag'ika - Little Man) (Schutta - B*tch) (Or'dinii - Moron)

 

 

He leaned against the wall at the head of his bed. As he looked around his quarters on the ship, he saw various medals, awards, pictures... the trappings of a life spent following a tradition of service. Eventually, his gaze fell on a trophy that wasn’t awarded at the Academy for best marksman, or a statue handed down for recognition of service above and beyond.

 

He knew its details intimately. The figurine was crudely made by unskilled 15 year old hands. It was of a man striking a heroic pose – well, it was supposed to be anyways – standing on top of a very special rock that was built into the base. The rock was made up of iron sediment and green crystals. He had found it when he was 11, and had gifted it to his oldest sister.

 

Dressed in ratty shorts and a t-shirt, Bro’Kian stood up from the bed. Elara would’ve chided him for being dressed so casual, totally unprepared for any emergency that might crop up. He loved her, but her overly structured, very military mind could grate on him sometimes. Today, he'd dress like he wanted, because he had taken the day off.

 

He walked over and pulled the statuette from the shelf. His fingers ran over the crude inscription carved into the hardened clay on the base. The shelf was covered in awards from the Academy and Medals of Valor from a dozen different missions as the leader of HAVOC-CMDO. Hell, he even had pictures of noted Senators and Heads of State shaking his hand. For all that, this was the most important thing he’d ever been awarded.

 

The Most Awesome Brother in the Galaxy Award – Love Shira’Vod + Kiera’Vod.

 

He smiled somberly. Right now, he didn’t feel awesome. As a matter of fact, he felt pretty worthless.

 

Kiera'Kian, who had practically stepped on his heels following him into military service; who had been there to save his dumb a*s more than once; who had the guts to disobey a direct order and do what was right, while he sat around debating, was currently sitting at a review hearing which would determine her worthiness to remain in HAVOC Squad... and it wasn’t looking good. To add to his frustration, he was neither allowed to be there or speak on her behalf.

 

One sister who had vanished, and the high possibility of the other lost to a dishonorable discharge… and in both instances, he was unable to do anything for them.

 

He looked at the statuette again and smiled weakly. Yeah, awesome is not exactly how I’d describe me right now.

 

Bro sat down on the corner of his bed, still holding the statuette in his hands. As his mind drifted back, he started to smile, nostalgically this time.

 

Man, it was awful hot when I woke up...

 

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

 

"Shira told you *huff* not to go in there!"

 

"Shut up *huff* and head for the lake! It's gonna *huff* catch up!", he panted.

 

Bro and his sisters had been out playing in the snow around the lake. They knew this area of the woods like the back of their hand, but had never seen the cave they came across. Shira surmised that it was normally hidden by foliage that had receded due to the low temperatures. Bro had spied light glinting off something inside and went to investigate, against his older sister's wishes.

 

"Something is living in there. I can feel it. Leave it alone, Bro."

 

"Don't worry. It's not that deep in there, and you can always calm the critter with your force abilities, right? What could happen?"

 

More than the trio had bargained for, as it turned out. Bro managed to pick up the crystal rock that he had seen, but the huge Bolraida living in the cave was extremely unhappy with the intrusion that woke it, and was now in pursuit of a scarce winter meal.

 

So far they had kept ahead, but it was quickly closing the gap. Their sudden twists and turns were having little effect in slowing the beast down, so they changed tactics and made straight for the frozen-over lake in front of them.

 

"If we get out onto *huff* the lake, it should stop *huff* chasing us!" Shira yelled.

 

They hit the frozen surface and tumbled and slid, their momentum carrying them further out than they had planned. The Bolraida followed out a bit, then stopped and moved around agitatedly.

 

Kiera looked back at the pacing monstrosity, and then over at her sister, "How'd you know that?"

 

Shira wore a triumphant smile, as she tried to stand. "Instincts! It instinctually knows that coming out too far on the ice will break it because of its weight. Animals also don't like frictionless surfaces. It makes them uncomfortable."

 

Bro wiped his nose with the back of his hand and grinned at Kiera. "See? I told you guys we'd be fine. And look!" He held out a rock with green crystals jutting out, "I was able to get this for you, Shira'Vod!"

 

The Bolraida, growing frustrated that its prey was out of reach and feeling safe, began to repeatedly slam its powerful forelegs into the ice, and roared.

 

*CRACK*, they all turned to see a fissure open up in the ice, and begin moving towards them.

 

"Awww, KARK! RUN!" Kiera yelled, as they turned and began to move away from the jagged line that seemed to be chasing them, breaking up the surface in its wake. However, they could only move so fast on the slippery ice, and they weren't as quick as the impending crack. It would only be a few seconds before it reached them, and they were now closer to the center of the lake, where the ice was thinner.

 

Bro got as much traction as he could and launched himself at his sisters, knocking them forward and to the ground where they slid several feet. He then got up as fast as he could and starting jumping up and down. If he could create an opening, the crack would have nowhere to go. He'd be wet and cold, but they'd be safe, and he could warm up back at the house after they pulled him out.

 

"VOD'IKA!! NO!!" Shira's scream was the last thing heard as he fell through.

 

What he hadn't counted on was the lake current still being so strong, and he was swiftly pulled under the ice.

 

The chill was bone-numbing, and he struggled to swim upward. His head throbbed in pain, and his thrashing was using up his one breath of air. He couldn't get purchase on the underside of the frozen surface as he slid along the underneath, the current carrying him to wherever it felt he needed to go. It was getting hard to move. He couldn't feel anything past his torso anymore, and even then it was hard to acknowledge if it was real. He began to lose any sense of direction, and couldn't tell if he was even moving at all. He'd have panicked, if he wasn't so numb.

 

Was that Shira's voice? How'd she get underwater? I can't see her...

 

The last thing he saw before he expelled the tired breath from his lungs and passed out, was a blue shaft of light poke through the ice (or was it coming up to touch the ice?), and begin to move towards (or away?) from him.

 

He dreamed of warmth, and being wrapped in his mother's robes, as she held him close. She looked so serious for some reason. Trees flew by in a blur, and he felt like he was being carried on the wind. Then he passed out again.

 

When Bro finally awoke, he was in his bed, covered in a number of heavy quilts. He was sweating and tried to remove them, but he was stopped by his mother's hand. She had been sleeping on the side of the bed, but was awake now, and she bent over and kissed his forehead.

 

"Hey, Mom. What happened?", he croaked, his voice hoarse. "Are Shira'Vod and Kiera'Vod okay?"

 

His mother looked exhausted, like she was about to burst into tears, as she stroked his head. "They've been waiting to see you, Honey." She waved at the door and as it unlocked and slowly opened, his sisters burst into the room.

 

"Mom! Is he gonna be ok?"

 

"Can we talk to him?"

 

"Does he need anything?"

 

"Can we stay?"

 

"Can we watch him now?"

 

They tripped over each other with a rush of questions. He saw his mother smile at them as she waved them over.

 

"He was asking for you, girls. Make it brief though. Your Vod'ika needs his rest right now."

 

He saw Kiera, with her medium dark brown hair, and Shira, with her long flowing black hair, lean over the bed and look at him with a mix of concern and happiness.

 

"Hey there, jag'ika. Glad to see you're back. Scared the hell out of us with that little stunt, you stupid schutta! OW!" Kiera grabbed the back of her head where she had just gotten slapped.

 

"Language, young lady! It seems I need to speak with your grandfather regarding the people you associate with when you're around him."

 

"Yes'm. Sorry, Mom."

 

Shira pulled her hair behind her ear, "How are you feeling, Vod'ika?"

 

"Hot. Mom won't let me take off the covers though", he said weakly. The heat was making him sleepy.

 

She smiled, "Behave yourself and do what she says, and we'll make you a special surprise when you're well. Do you need anything?"

 

"Some water might... be... nic-zzzzzzzz."

 

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

 

When he was well enough to resume normal kid-like activities, Shira'Vod and Kiera had made this award for him.

 

"To commemorate the finding of a saber crystal! Mom was very impressed. Famous Treasure Hunter, 'Bellassa Bro' has a nice ring to it, eh?" Kiera had beamed at her cleverness.

 

"To celebrate our Vod'ika, who is, and always will be, our hero." Shira'Vod had said, and then added "and as a reminder to never do something like that again!"

 

As he sat there holding the statuette and reminiscing, the door to his quarters slid open and Kiera'Kian walked in and leaned against the door jam. She was in her dress blues, award ribbons covering the jacket on the left part of her chest, and her infantry rope hanging on her right shoulder. She held her Spec Ops beret in her hand.

 

"Permission to come in?"

 

Bro smiled as he stood, "Permission granted, Captain." He walked over and hugged her, "You got out early? D*mn, I was going to come meet you when it was over. How'd it go? I haven't heard from you in a few days. Was getting a little worried."

 

His sister smiled, "Not as bad as it could've gone. I'm still a Captain, still in HAVOC, but I'm on probation, suspended from my command, and the demotion stands and is on record. And I maaaaay have some new found respect for our CO. She's a crafty--"

 

He stepped back as his sister started laughing, "What's so funny?" He started looking to see if he had stains on his clothes or something. "Is it the shorts? I like these shorts! They're comfortable."

 

She grinned wide, "Man, I can't believe you still have that!" she pointed at the award in his hand, "Reminds me why we never became artisans. KARK, that thing is ugly!"

 

“It’s my favorite award.” He sat down on the bed and looked up at his sister. “Kiera’Vod, I- I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

 

“Why?" She looked taken aback. “Bro, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done that would’ve stopped this”, she folded her skirt underneath her, and sat down beside him. “Remember what Shira said? It’s true. I had to own this.”

 

“I know, but I wasn’t even allowed to speak for you! You took a demotion for my crew, while I got promoted, and I couldn’t—“

 

“Save me? Ok, first off, I don’t need you to save me. I’m a big girl who’s had extensive military training and graduated the Academy equal to you in everything but field tactics. Second, that’s kinda arrogant, you know. Thinking you should have ‘taken the bullet’ instead of me. Elara is your girlfriend, but she’s my best friend. You’re not the end all be all of the Republic, Bro. You can’t save everyone. It’s pure ego to think you can.”

 

His face reddened a bit, “That’s not what I—“

 

"That exactly what it is", she interrupted. "It may not be what you meant, but that doesn't make it any different. You try to carry everything on your shoulders, as though no one else can handle a little adversity. It's worrisome to those who care about you." She pointed at the statuette, "After that day, Mom was always 'listening' for you with the force whenever we went out. Hell, 'The General' wanted to confine you to the house! And you never knew it, but Shira would follow you, when you and your friends would go somewhere she would consider 'unsafe'."

 

Bro looked down at his award, and said in a low voice, "I didn't want you to get hurt is all."

 

She smiled softly, "I know, but it's not like we wanted you to get hurt for us, either. We wound up risking our lives anyway, running across the ice to find you and stay out of reach of that beast. Shira screamed for Mom so loud, I heard it not just in my ears, but in my head. If she hadn't been able to hold you in place, against the current, Mom never would've gotten there in time. As it was, it put a huge strain on her."

 

She stood up and walked across the room to lean against the desk. "Your first thought is always of self sacrifice, never of trusting others with that burden. You want to be in control of the situation, all the time. It's one of the reasons Elara became so comfortable around you so quickly. She's always the one in control, but around you, she could relinquish some of that and experience a little freedom."

 

"Why's that such a bad thing?" He sulked a bit.

 

"Because you can't do it all yourself, or'dinii! HAVOC is a team, not one man. They rely on you to lead them out alive, not dive on every grenade when the first opportunity presents itself. Your life is just as important as anyone else on this team." She walked back over and sat down next to him on the bed again.

 

"I rely on you too, you knucklehead", she slugged him in the arm.

 

"Look, your team is always going to be in danger. It's the nature of Spec Ops. You have to learn to trust their abilities more, or you're not going to be around long enough to make babies with your gorgeous Med Officer."

 

He blushed and sat there, playing with the statuette in silence. Then he sighed and looked over at his sister.

 

"I get it, Kiera. I didn't see it before, but I get it. I didn't mean to jeopardize my team, and the people around me. I was just trying to keep everyone safe... everyone but myself. Thanks, Sis."

 

Kiera slung an arm around his head and put him in a headlock-hug. "No worries, lil'brother! Oh, by the way, I've been assigned to your boat as part of my probation. Isn't that great? Now I can tell you to your face whenever you're being a dumba*s", she grinned.

 

"Yeah, swell, like that's ever stopped you before. You'd better get used to bunk life again," he laughed, "because I'll be dam*ed if I'm sacrificing my spacious master quarters to you!"

 

She grinned evilly, "I'll arm wrestle you for it!"

 

"Seriously," He looked at her with a straight face, "is that how you solve everything?"

 

"Awww, I'm sowwy. Is the widdle prissy Major afwaid he'll be beaten by a girl? I wonder if Elara knows she's involved with a wuss. Major Wuss... yeah, that sounds about right."

 

Bro glared at his sister, "... best two out of three. No tricks, and Jorgan referees."

 

"You're on. I was going to offer up Tanno as ref though. He probably has more experience."

 

"Yeah, with what? Taking bribes?" He grinned as he stood up, "Really, you act like I haven't known you all my life or something!"

 

They both laughed as they went to the mess to get a drink and begin what was later referred to on the ship as Armwrestlemania I: The Battle for the Bigger Bedroom.

 

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

 

On the sandy plains of Tattooine , outside of Anchorhead, the Jedi stopped, her long, dark hair exposed from the front of her cowl, and blowing in the rough wind. She turned her head towards the skies, as if she was listening to something. Staring at the sky, she smiled contentedly before she was interrupted a few moments later.

 

"Jedi, is something amiss? I read no anomalies on the sensors... well, outside of the usual annoyances anyway."

 

" No... no everything is fine" Her eyes stayed over her shoulder, towards the sky. "I felt the mood shift of someone I know. It seems his day has gotten better."

 

"There's another man in your life? Hmm, it seems I shall have to endeavor to impress you more than I already have."

 

She turned to the sandy-blond haired man sporting a goatee, " Come, Tharan. We should get to Grommik's before Czerka spots us on radar."

 

 

 

Edited by DarthSillyMonkey
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Hello, everyone! You may or may not remember me (I completely understand if you do not), but I was here a few months ago posting a few short stories for the Bounty Hunter class (Burzek was his name). Since then, though, I took a break from SWTOR, so I have not been writing much for the game.

 

But, a few days ago, I have picked SWTOR back up and I have started brainstorming a bit more. So, I am going to try to start posting more stories. The story I'm posting now is one I wrote a few months back, but never did post.

 

Hope you enjoy!

 

Prompt: Confessions (possibly Family as well)

Class: Sith Inquisitor

Spoliers: Not really any other than the Female Sith Inquisitor's romance partner

Setting: Aboard the Fury class starfighter (possibly after the Chapter 3 storyline; doesn't necessarily matter with this story)

 

Warning: It's a bit long...

 

 

Anaria usually tried to stay away from water. The Sith inquisitor never knew when her mind would wander toward thoughts of the dark side, usually causing a decent amount of electricity to flow through her body and out from her fingertips. This was why washing was not common for the young woman. Having water flowing over your entire body was a detriment to a Sith and it was especially harmful to Anaria as she was quick to anger and slow to control. An entire line of cleaning materials had been made just for the Sith which would not involve water, but these never quite did get all of the sweat and blood off of a person.

 

But after meeting Andronikus, the Sith could not help but try to look her best for him. The showering had to occur more often.

 

As the water struck her horned skull, Anaria closes her eyes and tries to lose herself in the music of the Sith opera which she had blaring through the speakers inside of the bathroom. "Passion" was the name of the performance. It was a story of the two Sith Lord composer's romance which was used to fuel a Sith's passion of love as they listened to it. Anaria, however, occasionally used it to calm herself as the high notes of Darth Zervany matched and yet conflicted with the low tones of Darth Gerval. It helped her focus on love, lust and relaxing moments and not on anger, hatred, and all of the other emotions she needed for the more "trying" times in her life. The song also reminded her of Andronikus. She had played the song at different points in their relationship and she could not help but grin slightly as the memories of her husband and her filled her mind.

 

Anaria's head rocks slowly back and forth; the Sith Inquisitor having lost herself in the music. The music began to build as the opera began to reach its climax. The female Zabrak recalled seeing the opera in person. At this point, the two would be nearing each other. She could nearly see Darth Gerval's hand reach toward Darth Zervany's as they-

 

Anaria inhales quickly; her eyes closing even tighter. A great pain began to culminate from her abdomen and seemed to spread throughout most of her torso as the symphony's cymbalists hit their instruments with their entire might. The Sith had to bite her lip to keep from yelling as the pain began to grow. It felt as if someone was kicking her repeatedly from the inside of her body and not relenting (the description was spot on, in fact).

 

Anaria was five months pregnant.

 

The Zabrak bends down in a kneeling position as she waits for the pain to subside; her hand reaching for the controls of the water as she does so. Using the Force at this point could cost her her life; she had to physically drag herself to the controls in order to disable the shower heads.

 

Most mothers felt the kicking as a nice, happy feeling, but for Anaria, the baby seemed to wear spiked boots as he slammed his toes against the walls of her womb. Anaria could sense the hatred and anger from inside of her as the dark side of the Force manifested itself inside of her unborn child. Each blow was fueled by the Force, causing an almost unbearable pain inside of her.

 

Anaria hated him just as much as he hated her, though, so she could not blame him as he relentlessly assaulted her from within. The Sith also hated the unborn child's father. The memories of the back-stabbing Twi-lek from Ryloth flowed throughout the Zabrak's mind and her hatred for him grew as well. The power of the Force swelled up inside of her and she forced herself to contain it; drawing on the controlling techniques she had researched from a stolen Jedi holocron on Korriban to keep her rage at bay.

 

Anaria forces herself to stand. The attack was beginning to cease as the young child quickly ran out of energy. The Force enhanced kicks were beginning to turn into harmless pats against her womb. The Zabrak stands still as if leaving herself open for another attack, but she knew that her provocations would have no effect on the exhausted child. Anaria grins to herself, knowing that her passions would always outlive her son's. The female glances down at her belly before viewing herself in the refresher's mirror.

 

She could no longer hide her pregnancy. The morning sickness was easy to excuse and, after finding Force techniques archived on Korriban, her extended abdomen was easy to depress. The luxurious robes she tended to wear when she went outside of her vessel were thick enough to hide her extra weight as well. But, now, her abdominal region was beginning to extend into a small half sphere. Around the others-around Andronikus-it would be impossible to hide. The Zabrak knew that the truth would have to come out.

 

Thoughts of exterminating the miserable creature inside of her crossed her mind numerous times, but she knew that in life the child would be able to serve her better than in death. Every time she would think of him or feel his passions, she knew that her own passions would grow stronger. Anaria knew that a considerable fraction of her power was contributed to the memory of the father and the curse of the son. The child would have to live, there was do denying that, but it did not have to be a happy family relationship. The thing would have his purposes, though.

 

The Zabrak female walks back into the shower, this time setting the different faucets to the "Air" setting. Instead of water, a steady stream of the ship's air supply strikes Anaria's body. It only took a few moments and the woman was rid of any excess moisture and able to slip into her hand sewn silk pair of pajamas.

 

The ship was empty, just as Anaria had requested. She needed the privacy to think and to meditate, but she had requested Andronikus's prescence. The young Zabrak needed to confess what she had been going through for the past half year's length.

 

"Have something you wanted to 'discuss,' babe?" The husky, near-scratching voice of Andronikus reached the ears of Anaria, causing her to immediatly feel relief. The human male had apparently been waiting for her the entire time. Anaria had been too occupied to sense his presence in the Force, but now she wished she had come out earlier-the impression he left in the Force always sent a spike of excitement through the Zabrak woman.

 

"Yes," Anaria starts, stopping immediatly after opening her mouth. She had rehearsed how she would break the news to him, but now (after seeing him in person) her plans seemed to fall through the cracks.

 

You've slain Jedi, Sith, and thousands of the Sith's largest enemies, but you can't break the news of your pregnancy to your husband?

 

"I'm pregnant," Anaria blurts out, keeping a calm and almost bored emotion on her face. The Zabrak could feel the comfort, the easiness, the peace drain out of Andronikus and the emotions of shock and fear rush in to fill the empty void.

 

"We're...pregnant? Already?" the human male asks in disbelief. "The Force really can be manipulated to do-"

 

"It's not our child, And. It's my child," explains Anaria. "I'm about five months pregnant." Now Anaria could sense the shock and fear be replaced by anger, a feeling of being betrayed, jealousy, and even a small amount of hatred for the father.

 

"Who is he and how many parsecs away is he?" Andronikus snaps quickly. The human was on his feet in no time, hand habitually resting next to his blaster.

 

"I would love to kill him as much as you would," begins Anaria. "But I'm still biding my time until I can find the right oppurtunity to draw him out and gut him like the insignificant worm he is," the Zabrak explains, her rage returning to her. "And, before you ask, I had nothing to do with being pregnant. So, how about you sit back down and I'll explain, yeah?" Anaria gently presses against Andronikus's chest with her pointer finger, forcing him to sit back down on the bed. She begins to explain how she had been betrayed back on Ryloth by a Twi'lek by the name of Din Arrod. As a reward for his treachery, he got to keep her as a prize. Anaria went into the specifics as she talked, enjoying the different passions which swelled up inside of not only herself but Andronikus as well.

 

"So...you didn't have anything to do with it?" Andronikus asks, still visibly shaken by the news.

 

"Of course not. I would rather kiss a Wookie then to had been with that son of a Hutt," she points out, edging closer toward the human. "You're the only man I've ever really cared about," she adds in a quieter voice. The statement was partially true, but sometimes a partial truth was better then a flat out lie when you dealt with someone as close as your husband.

 

Andronikus rubs one of Anaria's horns with his thumb and pointer finger, saying,"Sure I am, babe," in a disbelieving tone. He leans forward and kisses the woman, but Anaria could sense that several thoughts were running wild in his head. Anaria could only guess what was going through his head at this point (she had already explained her plans for the child as well as everything she could think of about the father and the details in between). Slowly, Andronikus pulls away from Anaria, and asks in a near mumble, "Since I'm being so forgivable here, promise me you'll forgive me as well, okay?"

 

"No promises," Anaria quickly states, not even thinking twice about her response. She leans closer to Andronikus and kisses his ear before making her way to his lips.

 

"I have a child as well."

 

Edited by RatchetGuyClanks
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@DarthSillyMonkey, great story! Good too see the three of them together as kids, and awesome, she's getting assigned to his ship. Keep it up! :)

 

Prompt - Communications Breakdown

Title - Moving Camp, Pt. 2

Class - Trooper/Jedi Knight

Minor JK spoilers, and a Galactic Starfighter companion

 

 

Jasin's lightsaber, cyan in the dim moonlight, reflected red blaster bolts back at the advancing army. He spared a quick look behind him; the cargo shuttles were lifting the med-center now; it would be the first building to go. Even as he turned back to block the next flurry of blaster bolts, the shuttle lifted off, carrying the collapsible building with it as it flew to the edge of the camp to await the rest of the shuttles.

 

The first Imperial forces–battle droids–reached the first line of Jedi Knights and were quickly cut apart. One of the droids ejected a vibroblade from its arm and rammed it toward Unaw Aharo, a Bith Jedi that Jasin had worked with several times. Unaw twisted aside and slashed the droid in half, though the vibroblade made a deep slash in his forearm.

 

"Pull back, Unaw!" Jasin called. "Praven, take his place."

 

The Pureblood Jedi leapt forward, his white-bladed lightsaber a tornado slashing apart droids. Eventually the first wave ended, and Praven fell back beside Jasin. An artillery barrage began, and Jasin quickly gave orders for the Jedi to fall back inside the force field. The artillery slammed harmlessly into the shield, although the shimmering blue field was paling towards cyan, and getting weaker.

 

A blaster bolt splattered against the shield.

 

"The next wave is coming," Jasin said. "Back out. Ready? Go!"

 

* * *

 

Several meters down the perimeter from the Jedi, Prudii and the other Republic soldiers fired efficiently, cutting down Imperial troopers. Beside Prudii, a trooper caught a bolt in the chest and went down. A field medic with a red cross emblazoned on his shoulder pad ran up and dragged the soldier inside the shield. Prudii raised his rifle to eye level and snapped off another shot, taking down another Imperial.

 

"Med-center, barracks, and civilian shuttles are up!" Jorgan called. "They're ready to start loading soldiers."

 

Prudii nodded. "All right. Company C, you fall back inside the shield and load onto the transport. Company B, after them, and then Company A. Havoc Squad, we're here until last."

 

Jorgan nodded grimly. "Right, sir."

 

"I'm with you, too," said a gruff voice.

 

Prudii turned to find Sergeant Rusk standing beside him, cradling his assault cannon carefully. Prudii hesitated, considered, and nodded once.

 

"All right, Rusk," he said, "you're with us." He picked up his comlink. "Ashy, I want you to start the ship's engines. When I transmit, I want you to come pick us up."

 

"Roger," replied the Ratattaki, Havoc Squad's newest member. "Standing by, Major."

 

Prudii turned back to the battle and opened fire, cutting down a pair of Imperial soldiers as they advanced on the retreating green-armored figures of Company C. Prudii pulled a grenade off his belt and chucked it. It landed near a gun emplacement the Imperials had set up and exploded, destroying the emplacement. Prudii waited another ten seconds.

 

"Company B, go!"

 

The blue-armored Company B soldiers began slowly backing up, firing as they went. When the last of them passed through the shield, Prudii and Rusk moved forward to cover the empty spot where Company B had been. Rusk's fire choom-ed heavily as the Chagrian soldier laid down sheets of fire, cutting down Imperials with surprising accuracy.

 

"Company A, go!"

 

It was just the seven of them now–Havoc Squad, sans Elara; HK-51; Sergeant Rusk.

 

Prudii's rifle cracked as he fired another shot. And another. And another. The Imperials were too many, now; they were getting in close. Tanno dropped his rifle, drew his vibrosword, and leapt into the fray. Yuun followed suit, his electrostaff becoming a gray-and-purple blur amongst the black-armored Imperials.

 

"Ashy–now!" Prudii called.

 

"Roger."

 

An Imperial soldier leapt at Prudii, and the Havoc Squad major ejected his gauntlet vibroblade, ramming it into the Imperial's unarmored armpit. The commando fell back, clutching his armpit, and Prudii jerked up his rifle, firing into his helmet. The commando dropped. Forex's shoulder launchers raised up and fired a salvo of rockets into the Imperial troops. Jorgan's rifle shrieked as he sniped off one soldier after another. HK-51 spun between enemies, firing his sniper rifle and wrist rockets in tandem, and ramming his forearm vibroblade into enemies.

 

There was the familiar, glorious rumble of the BT-7 Thunderclap. Its ventral turret cracked, blowing away Imperials and clearing a landing zone. Prudii looked up into the cockpit and saluted at Ashy; the gray-skinned Ratattaki returned the gesture.

 

"All right boys, go!" Prudii said.

 

Jorgan and Yuun backed toward the ship, Jorgan still providing covering fire. Forex and HK-51 went next, reaching the ramp just as Jorgan and Yuun disappeared inside. Rusk, Prudii, and Vik, all three stubbornly refusing to be last aboard the ship, backed toward the ramp together, still firing at the Imps.

 

"Look out!" Rusk shouted.

 

A grenade spun through the air. Rusk grabbed Prudii by the waist and hurled him up toward the ramp. Rusk's heavily-armored body covered Prudii's own as the grenade exploded. The ship rocked and Ashy, reacting instinctively, lifted off. Prudii pulled himself out from under Rusk and farther up the ramp; the Chagrian soldier followed a moment later. Then Prudii realized who was missing.

 

"Where's Tanno?" he asked.

 

"Not sure," Rusk replied grimly. "Lost sight of him when the grenade exploded."

 

Prudii looked down at the field below and saw Vik stagger to his feet as the Imperials advanced. A cold fist rammed into Prudii's heart. He dashed into the ship and into the cockpit. Jorgan had already caught sight of Vik's predicament and was trying to order Ashy back down.

 

"Get down there now!" Prudii snapped. "We're not leaving Tanno."

 

Jorgan nodded. "We're trying, sir. The Imps have arty set up, and we can't get low enough."

 

Heart twisting, Prudii opened a link to Vik. "Specialist Vik, do you read me?"

 

* * *

 

Tanno pulled back. He snatched his pistol from his holster, holding the weapon in his left hand and still wielding his vibrosword in his right. He snapped off a shot at the same time as he swept his sword, cutting down a pair of Imps. Another advanced, and Tanno slammed his foot into the Imp's face.

 

"Specialist Vik, do you read me?"

 

Vik dropped back another few paces, sheathing his vibrosword so he could bring up his comlink.

 

"I read you, boss," he replied.

 

He looked around. Only now did he realize that the outpost–and the force field–were gone. All the buildings had been lifted onto their shuttles and were beginning to fly south. A smuggler's freighter, Dankin's if Vik was correct, and a trio of Jedi Defenders were following them. Only the BT-7 remained, and the Imps were moving in by the hundreds. Only Vik and the dry indentations of the buildings were still on the ground.

 

"Try to pull back a few more feet to some clear space," Prudii was saying, "we'll try to pick you up."

 

Tanno felt like a cannonball was resting in his stomach. He knew what had to happen if Havoc Squad was to survive. Tanno had never been the self-sacrificing type; he'd been the first to cut and run if his life was on the line. He had always been the most vicious member of the squad, the one who was most ready to tear enemies apart limb from limb. He was brave, he knew that. But he was afraid to die.

 

Maybe it was being in Havoc Squad, or maybe it was being here, alone on the ground, but Tanno didn't feel that anymore.

 

"Boss," Vik said grimly, "there's no chance. The second you set down you'll have three dozen Imps running up your ramp. No way I'll get on alone, boss."

 

"Vik–Tanno, I'm not leaving you."

 

Tanno felt resignation bloom. "Yes you are, boss. Don't worry. I'll find you guys. You have my word."

 

Prudii laughed shakily. "We all know what that's worth."

 

Tanno laughed; after all, why not? He was probably going to die anyways; it felt good to laugh. He had to. He laughed until tears streamed down his leathery cheeks.

 

"You're a pal, boss. I'll find my way back."

 

Prudii sounded like he was going to cry. "All right. Vik, the coordinates of the new outpost are–"

 

The line was cut by static. "Boss? Boss?"

 

"–Aurek oh–ght–Vik? Repeat, coordi–rek oh-ei–ety sev–xty. Vik?"

 

Vik didn't read him, but if Prudii knew that he wouldn't leave. "I read you, boss. Tanno out."

 

He shut off his comlink and watched as the BT-7 peeled out. Then he turned his attention back to the advancing Imps. Drawing his vibrosword once again, Vik grimly watched the advancing forces. Time to fight.

 

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The first part of another story arc that's giving me less writer's block than Lixor's. Hope you enjoy it!

 

 

 

Title: Winter is Coming, Part I (please tell me there's no story with this title)

Prompts: Guilty Pleasures, Celebration, Vacation, and lots of family.

Characters (for the whole story arc): Grree (Trooper), J'mpok (Warrior), Xixxaia (Smuggler), Shinzonn (Bounty Hunter), Thrawrn (Agent), P'sy (Bounty Hunter), Troi (Consular), Obbisek (Knight), Kahhless (Warrior), Worrf (Inquisitor), and Xyrro (Smuggler)

Spoilers: Companion identities

Setting: Six years after the Dread War

 

 

Mogh Manor, Corellia

Grree woke up in exasperation at the metallic clanging at his and Elara’s door, “Yes, Forex?”

“Captain,” Forex rattled off, “Government Edict GR-1NC4 has been issued to the military as a warning against Life Day celebrants.”

“What about them, Forex?”

“Havoc has been warned against any ‘fat, old, dancing men’ who may inexplicably throw snowballs or dance around. There is also one of these men on Carrick Station peddling what he calls ‘holiday cheer.’”

“Wonderful.”

 

Grree put some pants and a robe on. Hell, it was cold! Was that snow outside?

 

“Hey, Dad,” Grree heard a new voice call, “Is it supposed to snow on Corellia?”

“J’m?” Grree asked, grinning lopsidedly, “Did you really get up at four in the morning just because you sensed that it was snowing?”

“Uhhh….no. Of course not. I had a totally legitimate reason for being up.”

“Really? What would that be?”

“Broonmark is making burgers. You know how damn good a Broonmark Burger is.”

“That is a pretty legitimate reason. Broonmark, is that you in the kitchen?”

“And me,” Aric called across the hall, as Grree heard a roaring greeting from Bowdaar

<The ship droid informed me of the Day of Life, Captain,> Qyzen interrupted in a groggy tone, <Why do we celebrate fat old men in red robes?>

<I swear to Bacca,> Bowdaar replied, <I will tear that droid’s arms off. It’s much more fun to play chess with HK, anyway.>

Just then, Xixxaia ran into the room. J’mpok’s daughter was a force to be reckoned with. She was easily one of the best shots in the galaxy…..and 17. Grree understood why his son had let her out on her own, though. She was probably the most powerful pirate in the galaxy, currently, and was basically funding their lives, as renegade Sith, former SpecOps officers, exiled Jedi, and famous bounty hunters didn’t make as much money as people would think.

“Hey, Daddy!” Xixxaia asked in her patented ‘hey-I’m-gonna-do-it-even-if-you-vainly-attempt-to-stop-me’ cutsey voice, “Can I go to Ilum to get one of those swank-a*s Gree spheres?”

“Y’know,” J’m replied, “There was a whole edict and stuff warning against the Gree and those Life Day people.”

“Screw that. I’m the Voidhound. I’m so awesome, the Imps don’t know whether to shoot me or bow down and worship me. Naturally, I encourage the latter. ”

<The Herald has told me of the Hound of the Void’s near-godly ego,> Qyzen laughed, <Truly, her ego alone would make many bow before her.>

“Fine, fine, Xix. Go get the speeder. But don’t do anything too illegal or destructive.”

“Pshhh. I couldn’t possibly destroy anything with the uh…..minimal amount of firepower I’m bringing with me. Bowdaar, get the gunships prepped.”

Grree coughed on his drink, “Minimal damage? With gunships?”

Xixxaia pouted, “Oh, Grandpa! I’m only taking two, so I can strafe things in return for money and speeder components. Is that so wrong or destructive?”

“J’m,” Malavai Quinn suddenly interrupted, “We have just taken delivery of 4000 snowballs. Why did you have snow of all things sent to Corellia?”

J’m, Bowdaar, and Xixxaia exchanged a look, and then J’m, with a slightly threatening grin on his face replied, “Winter is coming , Quinn. Brace yourself.”

 

 

 

 

I was just reading Game of Thrones......and this odd idea came up :p

Edited by Xakthul
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Comments, starting from last week's prompt:

 

@Xakthul - Lixor's cheerfulness under the circumstances in intriguing. Neat counterpoint to Syyris's serious thoughts. As for the post-game-plot characters all living together, I love the idea that finances...aren't necessarily that great.

 

@frauzet - of course Jorgan isn't surprised that the rookie is supposed to stay behind. Oh, ye of little faith.

Giz was honest—well at least as honest as could be expected from someone taking the law not always quite literally. Nikeo had to trust somebody. Giz wanted his ship back, Corso hated the seps and probably was an even worse actor than Nikeo himself. Yes, he thought he could trust these two.
An admirable summary of the two when it comes to tactical questions.

 

Glad to hear the writing in general is coming more naturally! Your stories read quite smoothly. I hope fiction is a rewarding way to get comfortable with English, because we all benefit :)

 

@YoshiRaphElan, what a lousy conclusion to a shopping trip! It's neat to see how Dankin gets chatter that Prudii would have no way of knowing. Later on, evacuations are always a mess...at least Dankin and his crew can probably get out in short order. Switching gears to the Supreme Commander using his Force sense in a snowball fight is a great image. And Tanno's predicament is gut-wrenching - really a good emotional moment, bravado and all. I really like that one.

 

@alaurin, ha, Corso trying to sound thoughtful instead of 'drifting off thinking about Val'-y. The encounter with Zank was hilarious...play to his vanity! Then, ganking Studmuffinz...I would probably be right there with them. I like seeing Rusk get some time...My Jedi Knights never really inspired my muse but I do like Rusk quite a lot as a character.

 

@Magdalane, oh, how wounded Miriah must be feeling...of course Corso would want to know why so he can help. The observation from both sides of the small, hard beds was a good touch.

 

@DarthSillyMonkey, I like how much buildup there was before we heard that Kiera is getting assigned to Bro's crew. Nice background, and that award sounds both childish and incredibly sweet.

 

@RatchetGuyClanks, welcome back! It's creepy and Sith-y that Anaria should have such violent feelings about her own child.

 

 

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