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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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ok, fun topic! Looking over the thread, it appears many of the topics are assuming that the person you are writing about is the guy/girl from the class storys. Thus, I will write seprate entrys for each of my two people. First is Meanken, one of the most sadistic imperial agents you will ever meet. Also, as this will tie into the upcoming story, you should know that part of his backstory is that he was formerly a bounty hunter.

 

warrning-extreme violence within

 

 

A chiss with a hideous knife scar across his face and a black trenchcoat was sitting in a cantena on hutta, waiting for his contact to arrive. This man was known only as Agent Meanken. Said contact was apparently a criminal of some sort looking to trade some information to the empire. Mean sat at the bar, bored, drinking heavily as he waited. Then he saw the man, and both stared at one another as they identified each other.

 

"Well, well, well" the contact said "This is unexpected."

 

Meanken glared at the man, all pretenses of doing business with him gone. "Accun. The one that got away."

 

"Nice to see you remember me, sport. Good to have fans. So, I take it bounty hunting didn’t work out for you? I mean, why else would you be sucking the empires...."

 

Meanken interrupted him as he tossed a knife at him, some nearby customers backing off as the rest gathered to watch what was about to become a bloody fight. Accun dodged the knife "Woo, watch those knives! You could hurt someone!"

 

"DIE!" Mean jumped out of his seat and charged Accun, tackling him and knocking him to the ground. Accun tried to whack mean across the head with his blaster, but mean blocked it and impaled his hand, pinning it to the ground. Accun screamed as Mean took out a second knife and used it to cut open accun's chest. He then ripped out his intestines, and shoved them into accun's mouth. He then held shut Accun's nose as he slowly suffocated on his own intestines. Mean only grinned sadistically as he watched Accun die and said "Where's your quips now, huh?"

 

Once Accun was dead, he dug around accun's pockets until he found the information he was told to get. He then got up and walked out of the cantena, the people who were watching quickly jumping out of his way.

 

Edited by meanken
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Meanken, usually I'd say that more description is a good thing, but your case... ew. *shudder*

 

lol, glad I had an impact, at least

 

but, ya, the topic just so happened to be rivals and such, and well.....he is not kind to them in the least, as you saw.

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Meanken, that needs a violence and trigger warning.

 

Agreed. If you're going to have any violence - especially violence to that level - in this thread, at least have the decency to put warnings in front of it.

 

 

lol, glad I had an impact, at least

 

Not laughing here. That scene strikes me as having been written by a teenage boy who thinks violence is something fun that happens without consequence, without regard for the pain or repercussions involved. It was unnecessary ultra-violence, the kind that is applied to things and not people.

Edited by Tatile
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no idea what a trigger warrning is, but you are probably right in that a violence warrning is needed, lapse in judement on my part, sorry:( will edit it in a minute

 

Trigger warnings are basically things like {TW: Abuse} - they're there for people who might have had prior experience or are sensitive to these topics, so that they are not surprised by the content or so that they can avoid completely. If someone's aware that something that could trigger a panic attack of negative emotional/mental state is present, they can then mentally prepare themselves adequately if they then chose to continue reading.

 

Authors should provide trigger warnings out of respect for their audiences.

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ok, sorry to anyone who was angered/offended by that issue. I have disided that I will NOT be doing something like that again (considered deleating it, but it's already up with the proper warrnings now) sorry again, it was not my intent to offend
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ok, sorry to anyone who was angered/offended by that issue. I have disided that I will NOT be doing something like that again (considered deleating it, but it's already up with the proper warrnings now) sorry again, it was not my intent to offend

 

It's all about learning. You can do violence that is visceral and realistic without being grotesque. By describing the crunch, the pain and the reactions, you can achieve a reaction from the audience without having to reach for something that is, essentially, *word beginning with P*

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Prompt: Enemies, Rivals, and Nemeses

Class: Bounty Hunter (no surprise :rolleyes: )

Words: 900-ish

Spoilers: non at all. Set pre-game by eight years there abouts. In Leer's timeline, it's after she's become a cyborg but she's still in training and hasn't yet met Damin (my IA). Not sure how great it is, in a bit of a writing slump.

Warning: mild torture but nothing that big or explicit.

 

 

I pull the trigger with a little heart. I miss the targets dead centre by millimetres. A little heart isn't enough. I'm not sure where to find more from.

 

You could always use- No! Never. I will do this on my own. Just like I used to. I take a shaky breath. I can do this on my own. Like how you killed all those men on your own? How many were there? Twenty? Thirty? Forty? More than you can even remember. Shut up! I don't need to remember them anymore.

 

It's become hard to remember things distinctly of everything before the change. I know the facts but I can't see the images clearly and I can't pinpoint why, but it terrifies me. Can you even remember what your family looked like? Can you even remember what you looked like before?

'You know,' a voice too familiar and arrogant begins. I withhold the a shiver but I can't stop my fists clenching or my hair standing on end. I heard him coming but I hoped he would walk on by. I thought when he stopped and watched me only stand and stare he would keep walking. But wherever he is gong can wait for his protégé to pull a trigger no matter how long that finger takes to move.

 

'My commander always told me pretend the target is the man that's *********** your wife while you're away on duty. I haven't missed a shot since.' He draws his gun and shoots the dead centre of the target, only glancing at it quickly before turning his dark green eyes back to me.

 

I didn't know you would give a **** about that, I think wryly to myself. But I don't comment. I only stare at the target with a perfect shot and far too many very near hits.

 

'That will be a difficult tactic for me to take on, General, since I'm not married, a man and I have never met your wife.'

 

The General gives me the smile he used to: the indulgent, charming one that always earned him a kiss and more. Now, it only makes me want to extend a knife and carve those lips off his face. Maybe I will. When the time comes. I don't think 'if'. There is no 'if' about it.

 

'True, baby doll, but I'm sure you can find a replacement.' I force my fingers to unclench but I can't force myself to look at him. I stroke the gun in my hand with my thumb and an idea forms in my mind. An impulsive and foolish idea.

 

'I would much rather pretend it was you, sir.' I raise my gun to shoot him but he anticipated the move.

 

Electricity jolts down my body from my forehead to my feet and I drop the gun but I don't even notice it's clatter to the floor or the absent weight from my hand. Every small crevice in my body, every part of me screams in pain. Everything except my mouth. I set my mouth tight and keep it closed. My will keeps me standing for as long as the pain continues. He wants me on my knees and I refuse to. It isn't the first time this has happened. But electrocution isn't something your body can get used to.

 

After what might have been moments or hours or minutes, my body decides it has a different idea to whatever part of my mind can still think the single word 'stand'. My legs collapse and the rest of me is forced to follow. And then all the pain goes as if it was never there, not even leaving a sting.

 

The General catches me and holds me close to his chest, crooning to me as he would a small child. I vomit to the side and hope I managed to get his shoes. I roll back in his arms and faint.

 

When I open my eyes, I see that perfect smile where his perfect lips part enough to reveal just the right amount of perfect teeth. I remember I used to feel happy to wake up to that smile. He holds the controller in front of me and the perfect smile disappears into that sadistic grin that I realise now always lurked under the surface. How could I have been so dumb for so long?

 

'Did you really think I would forget about this, baby doll? You need to be smarter than that. I will have to have your tutors tortured for such negligence.' I want to spit on his face, I want to snatch the controller out of his smooth, long fingered hand. I want to put a blaster bolt between his eyes and I want to watch him die. Wait, wait, wait.

 

'No, sir.'

 

'Clean yourself. I expect you ready and in our room within the hour.' He drops me and walks away on brisk heels that echo through quiet corridors. I land in my own vomit and feel it's wet warmth soak through my tank top.

 

Wait, wait, wait.

 

But I didn't know then that I would make a choice that would make me wait seven long years. I would remember the sound his shuttle made as it flew away and remember it as the sound of freedom. But some things are more important than freedom.

 

Wait, wait, wait.

 

 

Edited by EverSteam
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Prompt: NotLP - Family

Feat. Xania and Xareen'alay

No spoilers.

 

Note:

 

 

This is set somewhat into the future when Xania meets her real mother.

 

 

 

 

 

Xania entered the makeshift meditation chamber. It was impressive, she thought, that such a room could have been carved out of the ice: it was nothing more than a domed structure to the untrained eye but she could feel the presence of the Force hanging in the air, coating the smooth surfaces like a blanket. The outside cold did not penetrate this deeply, seemingly kept at bay by an unseen hand and she felt strangely calm.

 

Something was calling to her from the depths of the darkest reaches of her mind, asking her to be here, wanting her to see. She had felt this presence before, during her meditation. The feeling was nothing more that a speck of dust falling on her skin, at first. With time, it became stronger, first like a whisper, then the whisper became louder until it tugged at her mind, wanting her to take a leap and discover the source of such interference within herself.

 

She stood still for a while, oblivious to her surroundings, focusing on that same whisper that had guided her in this place. Her eyes were open but she was not using them, letting her inner sight guide her deeper within the cavern, following the icy corridors as if following a thread left behind by whoever wanted her here.

 

She stopped. Could it have been a trap? It seemed all too easy, but why would someone lure her so far out on such inhospitable planet just to kill her, with no one to witness such act? Not a Sith. No, she thought, a Sith wanting to take her place would have wanted her demise to be as public as possible just to gloat and show the council who was stronger.

 

'Could it be...' she mused. A jedi? Why would a jedi want her here? And who was this jedi? She smiled, looking forward to the coming battle for she would not allow a jedi to simply lure her here and not consider the consequences.

 

'I'll play along, jedi, for a while longer'

 

Entering a smaller chamber, Xania heard that very familiar whisper once more and she let her eyes focus on the source: an older woman was looking at her. She was wearing heavy robes the color of a rainy sky, her hands folded within the large sleeves. She just stood there with a look of determination yet, she seemed burdened by something unseen. Xania met her gaze and, for a few moments, they both stood motionless, in silence.

 

“I hope you have a good reason for this, jedi” Xania said, breaking the silence, spitting out the last word.

 

“There is no need for conflict, Xania” the older woman replied, calmly.

 

'How does she know my name? Who is she?' Xania was surprised to hear her interlocutor pronounce her name. Surprised and annoyed. Who was this woman who was using her name so easily?

 

“I do not know who you are and I do not care. All I need to know is why you have been so bold as to ask me to come here”

 

“The fact that you have not yet drawn your lightsaber means that there might be still hope for you yet.”

 

“Do not test my patience, jedi. I have not yet attacked you because I do value knowledge and you may provide answers. That is the only reason why you are still alive.” Xania was intrigued by such character and she decided to play a deadly game of hunter and hunted. However, who was the hunter had yet to be determined.

 

The jedi turned away from Xania as she started to pace slowly around the room. “There are not many ways to say this but, I believe you need to know who you are and where you come from.” she said.

 

“Oh, good. I'm in for a history lesson and the topic is me? This should be interesting” Xania replied, almost mockingly.

 

“You were the daughter of a merchant and were raised on Dantooine”, the jedi continued “Later, when you were almost six-teen, the freighter in which you and your family were travelling was captured by pirates and you were sold into slavery.”

 

'She knows much. Why do the jedi keep such information?'

 

“Eventually, you found the Force. Or, more likely, you learned that it was within you from the very beginning. And thus, after freeing yourself, you were brought to Korriban where you learned how to be a Sith.”

 

“This is all very interesting” said Xania “But have you considered telling me something I do not already know? If you wanted to confirm such events, I am sure that your jedi council would have been able to answer any questions you may have.”

 

“I am not finished”

 

The commanding tone of the jedi's voice took Xania by surprise. But what surprised her the most, was the ever so slight tinge appearing as she heard the jedi council mentioned. It had been present for but a moment and it tasted so very familiar to a Sith; it tasted of anger. Xania decided to let the woman speak.

 

“What you may not know, is the identity of your real parents.” continued the jedi “Your Force sensitivity comes from them”

 

“Well, it had to come from somewhere. Parents, the environment, the suns of Tatooine. It does not matter. All that matters is that I have it and...”

 

“...and that you are going to use it to climb the ladder of your Sith empire till nothing opposes you.” the jedi sighed “Sith are so predictable.”

 

“Because the jedis are not?” asked Xania with a sneer

 

“Would you believe me if I told you that I once had a daughter who was taken from me by the very council I once respected?”

 

“And why should I care?”

 

The jedi now faced Xania, took a deep breath, and, without hesitation, she replied “Because that daughter is now standing in front of me”

 

Silence fell, heavy, uncomfortable. Xania did not want to care but, somehow, such revelation had caught her by surprise and, what was the most appalling for her, was not knowing how to strike back which in turn, was helpful as she felt angry at her own weakness. And her anger shook her, forcing her to lash out.

 

“And you truly expect me to believe this? A complete stranger that plays with the Force suddenly tells me that she is my real mother and that I should believe it?” her anger becoming stronger, she wanted to punish her for such an affront.

 

“I do not expect you to believe me. I am only asking that you search for the truth. You have the life that you have lived and now you have another version of it. I can only tell you what I know to be true”

 

“Enough!!” Xania shouted and her voice was followed by a crackling of energy that erupted from her outstretched fingers, illuminating the chamber in a blueish light. But her outburst was brushed aside as the jedi simply lifted a hand in front of herself, absorbing the attack. And, just as it started, is was over.

 

“Do not simply lash out at everything and everyone, Xania. Pain is not erased in such manner.”

 

“Do not presume to teach me about pain, jedi” Xania replied through gritted teeth “nor should you presume to know anything about me” Her anger was peaking. She was angry at such presumption and yet there was something holding her from striking back, just as she had done many times before. There was something about this jedi that was unsettling.

 

“I would have wanted to know you more than anything but such knowledge was denied to me.” she said calmly, her voice was peaceful, with an almost soothing tone to it “Maybe it was also my fault for I should have fought harder. Maybe I should have just lashed out.” she paused “Maybe, one day, you will realise that jedi are not so predictable, after all. Go now, for I am sure you have more important things to do than to stand in an icy cavern talking to a foolish old woman.” Having said that, she simply turned away from the younger Sith.

 

Xania spun around and walked outside the chamber and into the maze of corridors leading outside. Something had stopped her from mustering her strength and she felt almost ashamed because of it.

 

As she walked outside, the bitterly cold winds assaulted her body but she paid no notice.

 

She was seething.

 

 

 

Edited by Selentar
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Everstream - gosh that's a bit unnerving. I hope she gets the revenge she so richly deserves.

 

Selentar - Everything about Jedi just kind of... sucks :p even when they're trying to be nice, even in Xareen'alay's case of trying to communicate with her long-lost daughter, there's something that's just so pretentious and snobby about them.

 

Both very good shorts :3

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Prompt: Enemies, Rivals, and Nemeses

 

Character: Rixik (BH)

 

Title: A Fitting End

 

No, not Rixik’s end, not yet. That one’s still in the works. Spoilers for climax of Bounty Hunter Chapter One. I don’t often do scenes directly from the class quests, but this one is.

 

 

Rixik leaned against the wall outside Tarro Blood’s cell, “Shock collar looks good on you, Blood,” he taunted.

 

Tarro bounded to his feet, “You slime. Like you would have done any better.”

 

“I already have, stoopa,” he retorted.

 

“Let me out and we’ll settle this like Mandalorians. A duel to the death.”

 

“Fat chance,” Rixik laughed, “I like you in there. Plus I’m not a Mandalorian.”

 

Blood pounded his fist on the bulkhead beside the energy barrier, “I demand a duel! If you’re afraid to fight me you don’t deserve to win, you coward!”

 

“Afraid?” Rixik leaned in, mere centimeters from Blood’s face on the opposite side of the barrier, “You think I’m stupid enough to let my competition back in the game? What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

 

Blood crowded as close as he dared to the barrier, “You are an honorless coward, aruetti. You won’t win this hunt. I have friends. Mandalore will hear of your conduct.”

 

Rixik snorted, “Not likely. This ship’s about to take a one-way trip into a wormhole,” he straightened, “I admire your tactics, by the way. One cheating bastard to another.”

 

“Don’t mock me! I’m a Mandalorian!”

 

“Yeah,” Rixik drawled, “Right now you’re in a cage with a shock collar on your neck. I’d say that makes you a prisoner.”

 

“Let me out! Fight me!” Blood insisted.

 

Rixik strolled over to the control console. Digging around, he located the controller to Blood’s shock collar. He looked up, “I think I’m going to leave you right where you are. So you can go down with the ship, knowing an Alderaanian noble got beat by a Twi’lek slave,” He leaned forward over the terminal, letting Blood see the controller in his hand, “And I didn’t even have to cheat.” He triggered Blood’s collar, sending the Mandalorian twitching to the floor of his cell. Rixik watched him flop for a while then stopped the current, “Feels good, don’t it?”

 

Chakaar!” Blood snarled, pushing himself off the ground. He spat a bloody glob at the cell’s barrier. The liquid bubbled and steamed, “You can’t do this to me! I’m Tarro Blood!”

 

“I just did, bukee,” Rixik gloated. He set the controller down on the floor just outside Blood’s cell and sauntered off to complete his contract, the Human’s invective music in his ears.

 

 

Notes:

vocabulary notes:

aruetti: Mando’a, outsider or traitor; colloquially a "non-Mandalorian".

Chakaar: Mando’a, thief, petty criminal, scumbag; Literally: "grave robber"; general term of abuse.

stoopa: Huttese, stupid.

bukee: Huttese, boy.

 

Other notes: How to turn a lightside choice into a darkside choice. Why leaving a guy trapped in a cell when you’re sabotaging the ship to self-destruct is a lightside choice, however, is beyond me. It seems much more cruel than straight up killing him, especially in single combat like he asks for. Given how the game handles completing the contract for the Eidolon on Nar Shaddaa, I would expect the opposite alignment values.

 

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EverSteam - Perfect for that prompt. Leer's ultimate enemy.

spoiler for EverSteam's story:

 

Even after he's dead, he's largely who she keeps fighting. The bits and pieces of him and his work that are strewn across the galaxy and left in her. So glad she kills him.

 

Selentar - I liked this a lot. The showdown in the ice cave was very picturesque.

 

Striges - I loved this. And Rixik tweaking Blood there at the end "I just did..." :D

 

Thank you all for the reading material! I'm working on some original pieces at the moment, so my fan fic is temporarily getting set to the side. I'm sure I'll be back to it, sooner or later :)

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Enemies aren't always tangible things, and sometimes the enemy is ourselves.

 

 

Miriah flipped the coin in her hand in the air and watched it catch the light as it rotated in the air and dropped into her palm again. She was lying on her bed, having been in this room for almost eight hours now, and she was bored. Bored to tears. A prisoner on my own ship, she thought, and I did it to myself. No tequila, no music. Just herself, her bed, and her thoughts.

 

Why did I allow this to happen, she wondered. She looked at the door, and sighed, knowing she’d try to weasel her way out soon, but not quite yet. She’d been angry at first, pounding the door with her fists and feet, to no avail. When she grew tired of that, she started begging, seducing her captor with her voice. No dice, she thought. She crept to the door, pausing to put her hand on the lock pad, and swore when it only beeped at her.

 

“Damn it, Corso, let me out of here!” she yelled.

 

“Have you slept, at all?” he asked her, knowing from experience what her reply would be, and only shook his head at her growl of frustration.

 

Risha watched their exchange with her knowing smirk. “You know, farm boy, you could go in there and tire you both out enough to rest, and the crew wouldn’t have to pay to bury you when she finally overrides the lockout on her door,” she told Corso, laughing as he fumbled to enter the door code.

 

 

 

 

I've so enjoyed everyone's work over the past couple of months. I think (hope) I'm through the block for now :)

 

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@Striges I just finished chapter 1 so I could read this yay! I loved your take on it. I wish there were a few options in there to punish *spoiler* a bit more, and yes the dark side/light side point distribution continues to boggle the mind.

 

@Magdalane Welcome back! The early years of Corso and Mir always make me laugh and wonder how they ever managed to get together :)

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Memories

 

Broan

 

 

 

Broan sat on the bench and placed the holo-recorder next to him. The wood was cold and dewy, and the damp had seeped through his robes, chilling him. Unconsciously he reached out to the Force to warm himself. Even in the darkness of pre-dawn, he could see where the cliff began. Under it, and reaching off into the distance, was the faint, ethereal glow of the jungle fungi. The noise of night animals rang out from the jungle, adding to his calm, rather than taking from it. The sky began to lighten, far out on the horizon, and he pulled the holo-recorder into his lap.

 

The first rays of golden-red sunlight pierced through the grey and the new day began.

 

"When I was first taken... no, when I was freed from my home, I had no idea there was such a thing as the sky or stars. I'd never left those tiny, windowless rooms, but I knew outside them there were just more walls, more ceilings... more endless boxes," Broan sighed and watched the sun as it began to rise. The shadows of the jungle lengthened and the tips of the highest trees started to glow. "I was shuffled through tunnels, into cars and onto shuttles, from one planet to the next. I thought everything was just a series of boxes, one after the other.

 

"Master Istier - he was the one who started my training - took me to a Jedi home on some random planet. We left one shuttle and got into an omnibus. It was night and it was dark and I didn't even think to look up. I went to sleep in a room I'd never known before, with people I'd never met, but I was tired and I slept the night through.

 

"I woke up in the morning and I'd never been so scared before. There was a hole in the wall and someone was shining this massive light through it," Broan wiped away a tear and chuckled quietly. "It took one of the older boys ten minutes to calm me down. He had no idea what was going on. They took me outside so that I could understand better what was going on and... I just sat in that garden for hours. They had to drag me back inside when it became dark. I did that for three days. Got up before dawn, sat in the garden and went back in after dark. I watched the sky change from pink to blue and grey and purple and... I was so scared I thought it was just going to fall down because nothing was holding it up there."

 

Broan wiped the tears as they began to fall. The sun had almost entirely risen and the gold was giving way to the blue day sky. Clouds were coming over from the west. There were only a few small minutes when the skies over Kaas City were clear and they were quickly going.

 

"I don't know how many sun rises you've seen, probably all of them. You grew up with the sky and the stars. With grass and wind and water that comes from places other than bottles. I just want to say that, the next time you're down here, I want to watch the sun rise with you."

 

Broan turned the holo-recorder off and stood. The wind was picking up and it was rapidly getting colder. He began the long walk through his Lord's estate. Heavily scented flowers lined the paths and bopped up and down in the wind. It would rain again today. It always rained on Dromund Kaas.

 

 

Edited by Tatile
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Will catch up and comment in a bit.

 

Enemies gave me a chance to finish writing a long-abandoned passage. I was going to delay this 'til I had written through Vierce's Alderaan and Balmorra but it just isn't flowing. This comes after the long-ago Worlds Colliding scene on Balmorra. It takes place toward the end of Balmorra, after some fragile friendly functioning but before he really notices her. (It occurs very shortly after the Nar Shaddaa resupply run during which the Cross Faction AU splits off.) No game spoilers. 2100 words.

 

There's a paragraph of overlapping material (just recapping that he submits some paperwork before bed) between the old scene and this one.

 

 

 

 

I filled out the form before I went to sleep. One request for transfer, right then and there. It was stupid, but what the hell else could I do? I couldn't be near her and I couldn't sabotage her career just because I didn't like her. I submitted the request and then lay down knowing it was going to be a rough night.

 

The holocall woke me up mid-yell. Just another nightmare. I coughed a little, pulled on a halfway presentable shirt, and rubbed my neck in a doomed attempt to ease the tension there while I answered.

 

"Captain Savins, what is this?" snapped General Garza.

 

"General, sir. That's a request to transfer out of Havoc Squad, sir."

 

"Why are you wasting my time with this joke?"

 

"It isn't a joke, sir. Lieutenant Jorgan is perfectly qualified to step up to command. I think my talents would best be used elsewhere."

 

"If you're doing this to complain about Sergeant Dorne again…"

 

"It's not a complaint, sir. But I can't perform under fire when she's around. That's a reflection on me, not her. I'll be better off next to someone who doesn't have an Imperial background."

 

"Stop being ridiculous. I will not tolerate you discarding the mission over a personal preference."

 

"This isn't a preference! I don't know what's going to happen if…if something happens at the wrong time."

 

"If you require psychological assistance for your situation it will be arranged, but you're not going anywhere, Savins."

 

"'Psychological assistance' won't save my people in the field."

 

"No. You will. Now you have work to do, Captain, and I expect to see results. That's all there is to it." The holo winked out.

 

I stood there for a second letting my vision blur. Garza wasn't going to let me out. I was seriously expected to willpower my way through this. The only decent fair way out was getting closed for no good reason.

 

I went back to bed. The nightmares might be easier to face than the alternative.

 

*

 

I split Dorne off with M1-4X for the day's operations. I pushed hard through the mission, found other things to do, pushed hard through them, too. Jorgan kept up every step of the way. Finally we turned homeward.

 

"Jorgan," I said. "Don't come after me. Keep her away from me. Tell Forex, too. If something comes up, you have the command." I went right to my quarters. I wasn't hungry, and there was no point washing up when I knew I wouldn't feel clean anyway.

 

I sat on the edge of the bed, buried my face in my hands, and tried not to think.

 

When the door opened I knew it was her. She stepped in and let it fall shut. There were two things running in my head just then, like there had been ever since the first time I told myself I had to treat her with some minimum of respect. Part of me felt horrible about doing this to someone who had earned her place here. Part of me wanted to snap her Imperial neck.

 

"Everyone on this ship had orders to keep you away," I said.

 

"Sir, you're needed. Permission to speak?"

 

"Denied, Sergeant."

 

"Our mission is urgent and we can't continue like this. No outside mediation can arrive or act fast enough. This has to be resolved here."

 

"Or you could just keep talking. This may be the first time I've ever seen you disobey orders."

 

"When the matter is important enough, I'm left with no choice." I heard her shifting a little. "I've done it before."

 

As in defecting. I looked up at her. She was giving me this defiant stare. "Well then," I said, since getting rid of her wasn't going to happen. "What do you have to say?"

 

"I served under Moff Brannick," she said steadily. "He was a monster. He did a great deal of damage himself, but he also liked to order other people to do…just, cruelty for cruelty's sake."

 

"I know all that," I said roughly.

 

"I know it, too. I made an effort to report his crimes, but those reports were ignored. Everyone said he was too powerful; what they meant was, nobody more powerful than him cared. It was one of his cronies that started closing in on me, questioning my dedication to the Empire because of my objections. It was the knowledge that sometime soon I would be directly ordered to act against my conscience that finally drove me to defect." She looked away. "I already know what would have been asked. I won't talk about it."

 

"Suits me. You never tell me about that. I never tell you what he did to my people. Shutting up is what makes this work." I kept leaning my arms on my knees and I hung my head to cover my face again. "Stars. I'm sorry, Dorne. I can't do it. I've tried, but I can't. Just knowing you were around them, talking to them. My chest's about to explode. I don't know what to do anymore apart from putting in for a transfer, and that just got denied."

 

"Denied?" she said. She sounded…well, upset. "Captain, if anyone were to transfer out of the situation, I would expect–"

 

"There's enough people out there who would wreck your career for who you are. I won't be one of them. I can't do much but I can offer that. Jorgan could step up here and he'd do right by you, but that avenue's been closed off."

 

Things were quiet for a few moments.

 

"Dorne?" I said.

 

"Yes, sir?"

 

"Why haven't you filed a complaint against me yet?"

 

There was a long pause. She must have considered it. Was she just afraid to make waves?

 

"We were doing well, sir," she said slowly.

 

"I was being slightly less of a bastard."

 

"We get the job done, sir. Havoc Squad has been succeeding in all of its objectives. Besides which you have always made an effort to keep your feelings from contaminating your decisions."

 

My laugh came out as a bitter bark. "If you're going to take up lying you should practice with smaller ones first."

 

"You've made the effort," she insisted. "You arranged my brother's safe passage on Nar Shaddaa. You took the early steps to handle Personnel Division's doubts about my assignment when you could easily have let me hang. Those aren't the actions of an abusive authority. Matters are sometimes difficult, yes. But when it comes down to it you treat me with the same fairness I've seen you extend to others. That…that means quite a lot."

 

I looked up at her. When I was looking at her I couldn't hate her. "You risk your neck out there. You've earned better. If I were any kind of leader I would just deal with…knowing. You do good work. I respect you. It isn't fair of me to ask you to erase twenty-something years of your life just because I can't handle it." I blinked hard. "I hate that I can't handle it."

 

"Sir," she said, after a while. "Do you believe I'm on your side?"

 

Imperial, I thought. Like I just heard. Decorated in their service. She had been in the room with Moff Brannick, saluted him, taken his orders.

 

She had also fought shoulder to shoulder with me. She had done so well here.

 

They valued her there, too.

 

I shook myself back to looking at her face. She was still waiting for an answer. She looked hurt. Not the wounded but steady firmness she usually took on when someone gave her grief. This was different. Plain, open hurt, getting worse every second. "Yes," I told her. "Everything I've ever seen of you backs that up. You're with us now."

 

She nodded. A second later she said "You're aware that I trained at the officers' academy on Dromund Kaas. I qualified for medical specialization in my final studies there. As soon as I had completed that I was assigned to the front lines. At any given time the Empire is embroiled in a thousand conflicts on a thousand worlds. This was the defense of our home, the duty every citizen was called to."

 

I stayed quiet. If I opened my mouth I would only end up doing something stupid.

 

"There was no choice in serving; it's compulsory for every able-bodied citizen of Dromund Kaas. So I trained. And I served. I thought it was war to be waged as civilized people wage it. So far as we knew the cause was right; the Republic was composed of genocidal hypocrites, their establishments corrupt, their influence utterly destructive. So we were told." She pushed a few strands of hair that had come loose back behind her ear and then met my eye. "It is difficult to get an accurate idea of how the other side does things when all you see of the other side is the blaster fire."

 

"Why are you telling me this?"

 

"Because, sir. I have never known you to do the wrong thing once you've been confronted with the truth." Her gaze was perfectly steady and I couldn't manage to look away from it. "That's one of the reasons I stay. If what troubles you is what you're forced to guess about my past it's better that I disclose what did happen."

 

"I…" I had to cough a little to clear a sudden thickness in my throat. "I see."

 

"Despite all I had been told about the Republic, I was forced to wonder whether it would be better than a system in which unquestioned obedience to leaders such as Moff Brannick was both expected and enforced. I expect that my very presence here tells you what I ultimately decided on."

 

I nodded.

 

"Most of the Imperials I knew weren't bad people. But the system was open to abuse. When stepping out of line invited a quick death at best, one corrupt person in charge of drawing the line could do a great deal of damage. As Brannick did. And as others did. That's why I left and that's why I fight for our side now."

 

I wished I could think faster, sort through the mess of confusion and hurt and disgust and, well, this feeling that I'd been thoroughly humbled. It was a lot to process. Too much, but I had to try for her sake if not for my own.

 

It finally occurred to me that she, standing in front of me, couldn't possibly know which way I would jump on this. She'd laid it all out anyway. Even though she shouldn't have had to defend her existence in the first place.

 

"Dorne," I said slowly, "you are one hell of a human being."

 

"I only do what my responsibilities call for, sir." There was almost a shy tinge to it, but not a bad one. It was a relief and then some to hear her sounding something other than miserable.

 

"This was above and beyond and you know it. Thanks. You shouldn't have had to come explain anything, but...thanks. You've got to be the bravest person I ever met." I smiled a little in spite of myself. "The defection was pretty gutsy, too."

 

She returned the smile. And then she saluted. "I hope this helps, sir."

 

"It already did." I stood to return the salute. Stars knew she'd earned the respect. "Good night, Sergeant."

 

***

 

Jorgan was standing at a poor simulacrum of ease around the corner. He was pretending to read a datapad. His other hand loosely held a riot stick.

 

Sergeant Dorne rounded the corner and raised an eyebrow. "Sergeant, when I finally prevailed upon you to let me pass, I didn't mean for you to post a guard."

 

Jorgan set the datapad aside and gave her a wary yellow look. "He's gone off before." He raised an illustrative hand to his jaw.

 

"He'll do the right thing if you just show him the truth."

 

"I know," said Jorgan. "But sometimes the truth doesn't move as fast as his fist."

 

"He wouldn't." She frowned. "If you were worried enough to prepare to incapacitate him, I should think you would have reported him by now."

 

"I didn't think I would have to. He's decent most of the time, he gets the job done, and before today you were never crazy enough to go after him when he gets like this. Besides, even if I did try to take him off duty. Garza never seemed open to changing the arrangement."

 

Dorne looked back at Vierce's door. "No. She wasn't."

 

He took a moment to digest that statement. Then: "Are we good to work tomorrow?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Him too?"

 

"Him too. In fact, I think things may improve a great deal."

 

Jorgan looked curiously at Dorne, then over towards Vierce's quarters. "All right then," he said, and padded away.

 

 

 

 

Garza comes off as something of a psychopath in her managerial style if the Trooper makes a habit of DS decisions. Her response to all horrible doings is "CONTINUE OPERATING. FOR THE REPUBLIC. SCREW ETHICAL CONCERNS."

 

You can't actually ask to be relieved of duty, but I imagine the request would be received roughly as well as seen here.

 

Edited by bright_ephemera
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I love Vierce's character and personality - how he has to fight the prejudice that used to keep him alive now that his situation has changed, but also wanting (needing?) to cling to it when confronted with the even more horrible truth. It's much easier to hate your enemy when you see them as monsters, rather than victims of circumstance (and all becomes even more complex when the reality is your enemy can be both and neither.)

 

I still need to play my Trooper. I think she's level 2 now :p

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Well, here's something different...a whole new universe! Wow! :rolleyes:

 

NotLP: First Impressions, introducing Sith Warrior Tessa. Minor spoilers for the first part of SW Balmorra. Rather silly.

 

 

 

Sobrik, Balmorra

10 ATC

 

 

“That went well,” Vette muttered, blinking rapidly as they stepped out of the dark barracks into the bright sunlight.

 

“You really think so?” the Sith beside her asked earnestly.

 

Vette turned to look at Vrintessia Alamar-Iriath—please, call me Tessa! A shock collar is a bit extreme, don’t you think?—and noted the young woman’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes. “Uh, did I miss some kind of cause for happiness back there?”

 

Tessa nodded. “Do you think he liked me?”

 

“I—uh—“ Vette flailed for words. “Just who are we talking about, here?”

 

“Lieutenant Quinn,” Tessa sighed, her blush deepening as she said the name. “Wasn’t he just dreamy?”

 

Vette tried not to stare too incredulously while she tried to figure out if Tessa had encountered the same Lieutenant Quinn with whom Vette had just been stuck in a room for a very long few minutes. “You…you thought he was dreamy?” she asked after a moment of bewilderment that was rapidly shifting into amusement.

 

Tessa frowned. “You don’t think so?”

 

“Well, I thought that he was, um… Not really my type,” Vette said diplomatically. Tessa was awfully nice for a Sith, but one could never be too careful.

 

“Ah,” Tessa said, nodding sagely. “That makes sense.” She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms out in front of her, her gloves creaking. “I’ll have to be sure to impress him, then.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Vette murmured. “What’s the mission, again? I may have drifted off…”

 

Tessa launched into a detailed explanation about towers and relays and detonators. Vette’s gaze wandered over to the steps leading up to the spaceport and the assortment of people walking up and down it. Balmorra saw all sorts, apparently. There was a Twi’lek woman in Sith-esque robes that left very little to the imagination, trailed by some kind of weird hulking monster thing. Vette made a mental note to stay far away from that pair.

 

Tessa waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello?”

 

Vette jumped. “I’m listening, I’m listening!” she said hastily.

 

Tessa chuckled softly. “Sure you were. Listen, I’ll handle the details, you cover me. The usual procedure.”

 

“We have a usual procedure?”

 

“Sure we do!” Tessa said cheerfully. “I kill the things that need killing, and you take care of whatever I miss. Simple.”

 

“Whatever you say, my lord,” Vette said dryly.

 

“Oh, butter me up, why don’t you,” Tessa said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been over this.”

 

“Is the title really that much of an ego trip?”

 

“You have no idea,” Tessa said seriously.

 

Vette grinned wickedly. “No wonder you’re so taken with that Quinn guy.”

 

Tessa’s blush returned with full force. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s nice to look at,” she muttered.”

 

“I don’t know,” Vette said dubiously. “I thought he was a bit…scary.”

 

“Scary?” Tessa asked, giving her a blank look. “How so?”

 

Vette shrugged. “Maybe it’s just me, but a lot of Imperials just have this certain air…like, say, that guy!” She pointed to a black-uniformed man exiting the spaceport with a petite Rattataki woman in tow. He looked like a nasty piece of work; early forties, short, graying hair, a scar running across his left eye. What was he doing with an alien mercenary type?

 

Tessa looked in the direction that she was pointing and gasped, then trotted off towards the unlikely pair.

 

What the hell is she doing? Vette thought frantically, and hastened after her.

 

The grim-looking Imperial had just made his way down the last of the stairs by the time Tessa was close enough to launch herself at him.

 

“Tessa?” he asked, startled. “What are you doing here—“

 

He was cut off by Tessa’s enthusiastic hug. “Daddy!” she shrieked happily.

 

…well, I’ll be damned, Vette thought. Now that she was closer, she could see that the man’s eyes were the same pale green as Tessa’s. It’s funny, you don’t really think of Sith as having families.

 

“This is awkward,” the Rattataki woman said dryly. She glanced at Vette. “Name’s Kaliyo. This town have any decent cantinas?”

 

“I’m Vette, and I have no idea, but I’m up for finding out.”

 

 

Notes:

I feel like Tessa comes across as way too happy-go-lucky light side here. And this bothers me, because my stories are totally grim and dark and serious, guys. :rolleyes: But then I told myself that it is perfectly okay to be funny, and I can show seriousness later. Oh, and I really hate the ending of this piece, it feels far too sudden and random and ARGH. But I couldn't think of any other way to wrap it up, and I wanted to end it there. *sigh* Writer problems...

 

And Tessa's reaction to meeting Quinn is totally not based on my own, oh no. :o:D

 

So in this universe, Tessa's father is indeed the Imperial Agent. That will lead to some interesting happenings down the line! ;) And yes, that was an Inquisitor with Khem in the background. More on her will come later.

 

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@bright I love the transformation from his difficulty dealing with his Imp hatred to difficulty dealing with what an arse he's been. And that 'hell of a human being' line... <3 <3 <3

 

@tatile The description of Broan's perspective moving from one box to the next was great. It's strange to think about the people who live in a time and place where galactic travel is possible but they've never been outside. Also, the recording about watching the sun rise *swoon*

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Hey everyone!

 

I just wanted to pop in here and say that I love this thread. I often visit and read your work. We really appreciate the support you give and the contribution you make to the community.

 

I ask you, as a fan fiction author myself, to please keep it going! :jawa_smile:

 

D'aww, thank you ^.^

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