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eureka-its-zico · 1 month

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A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad.

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart.

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary.

Vital.

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance.

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over.

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help.

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty.

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day.

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer. If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave.

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops.

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him.

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it.

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well.

Halsey had found something. Really found something.

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it.

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way.

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code.

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her.

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot.

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated.

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands.

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you.

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him.

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up.

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away.

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away.

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns.

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal.

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win.

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets.

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky.

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point.

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty.

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood.

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman.

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat.

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you.

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment.

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this. Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company.

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance.

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form.

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel.

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline.

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head.

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.”

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited.

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence.

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives.

You were supposed to be a lucky one.

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world.

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born.

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly.

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left.

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony.

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard.

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills.

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale.

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak.

“Thao, can you come play?”

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over.��

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you.

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.”

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him.

You didn’t waste any more time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers.

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’.

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass.

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew.

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit.

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation.

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened.

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter.

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him.

Could you have gone around?

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared.

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut.

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather.

“And where did you run off to this morning?”

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned.

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning.

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named.

Either that or joining the resistance.

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him.

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention.

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent.

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut.

“Enough!”

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name.

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned.

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins.

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything.

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls.

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later.

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle.

This was a kill zone.

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle.

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed -

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground.

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay.

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome.

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward.

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes.

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan.

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar!

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence.

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit.

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.”

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time.

Except this time - no…NO!

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of.

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it.

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him.

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather.

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste.

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed.

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward.

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped.

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie.

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame.

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see.

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you.

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue.

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie.

Except that wasn’t what happened.

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him.

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told.

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back.

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball.

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt.

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan.

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon.

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality.

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you.

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.”

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him.

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest.

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him.

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain.

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather.

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect.

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it.

This Dr. Halsey.

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low.

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe.

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage.

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next.

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.”

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather, and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back.

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth.

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 - helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him, had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious.

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside your grandfather's gut.

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life.

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact.

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor.

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back.

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while.

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking.

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in.

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt?

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it.

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you.

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked.

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils.

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat.

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question.

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it.

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit.

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t.

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for.

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back.

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step.

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect.

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy.

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed.

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda.

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head.

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin.

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take.

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing.

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind.

You didn’t understand until you did.

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child.

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful.

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.”

Gone.

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage.

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed.

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke.

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

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levi-venn · 13 days

Text

The First Toothpick

Chapter Eight: It Ain't Forever

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair, Tech, Hunter, Jango Fett

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: It's time to part ways. Cad and Crosshair aren't ready.

Read the previous chapters here:

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 (Coming soon)

Also Available on AO3

In the week after Skatter’s attack, Cad made sure the kid got plenty of rest.

This meant Cad had to relax too, just to keep the kid from sneaking off to train with his sniper rifle (which he tried, several times).

They watched holofilms together, ate Baron Burgers, Nectrose Freeze, and anything else not allowed in the Kamino facility, and most importantly Cad taught the kid how to play Sabaac and Dejarik, then how to cheat at both.

It was…nice.

The kid seemed happy, too.

When the day came to return to Kamino, however, a heavy silence fell over both Cad and the kid. Not that either one of them were much for conversation, but this felt different. An oppressive weight instead of a calm blanket.

The kid curled up in Bossk’s chair aboard the Justifier, a subdued look on his face as he cleaned the already pristine sniper rifle, while Cad stayed in the cockpit, boots on the console, leaning back and gazing at the stars as they streaked by.

This quiet moment should’ve been spent planning how Cad would spend his credits. It was a real lucrative job and there was plenty to think about, but Cad’s brain had other plans. His thoughts floated down the ladder and into the common area where the kiddo’s future had yet to be determined.

Cad wasn’t being paid extra to care.

“Am I your son?”

Fuck you, Jango, Cad thought, pulling his hat over his eyes and sinking into his chair. You should’ve hired Embo for this.

The Justifier soared through wispy gray clouds towards Tipoca City, morning mist coating the viewport, glittering as the sun dared to peek through the stormy sky.

“Kid,” Cad called out. “Get your shit together. We’re here.”

There was no answer, but he heard rummaging and a weird scraping sound. He was about to yell again when he remembered why the kid was quiet.

Right, augmented fucking vocal cords .

The Justifier landed, and Cad climbed down the ladder to find the kid standing with his nose practically pressed against the hatch, white-knuckling the strap of his rifle, and the heels of his boots bouncing rhythmically.

Cad smirked, guessing the kid was eager to get back. “Got your bag?”

The kid stopped bouncing suddenly. He nodded, but didn’t look up.

“Got your rifle?” Cad prompted, hoping the playfully dumb question would pull an equally playful hiss out of the kid.

The kid just nodded at the door.

“How about fingers and toes?”

That got him. The kid cracked a brief smile and glanced up at Cad just long enough to reveal why he was avoiding eye contact.

Those damn watery human eyes. Too easy to tell if they’re angry, scared, or just on the edge of cryin’.

Cad punched the release and the door slid open. The kid bolted down the ramp and across the long bridge.

Cad was about to follow when something crunched under his boot. He looked down. Metal shavings littered the ground, leading back to the kid’s chair. Bossk’s chair.

Well, shit. Cad let out a short, raspy laugh. That lil bastard. Bossk’s gonna be pissed.

In neat handwriting, carved into the back of Bossk’s chair were the words: Crosshair was here.

The “o” was drawn like the fine crosshair reticle taken from both Cad’s scope and the upgraded scope he made for the kid.

Cad rubbed the residual metal shavings away and contemplated the name.

“I think I came up with a name,” Cad said, perched on the fence as he watched Jango feed the fabools.

“Oh yeah?” Jango glanced up, wiping sweat from his brow beneath a ridiculous, but functional straw hat.

“Yeah, but don’t laugh.” Cad hugged his knees. “I mean it.”

“Caddy…” Jango sounded hurt. “I laugh a lot, but I take names seriously. It’s your legacy and you deserve a good one.”

Cad hated how badly he wanted Jango to approve of this name. It shouldn’t matter. It was his name. Deep in his gut, it felt like his name. But if Jango rejected it…if he told Cad he didn’t deserve it…then would Cad reject it too?

“Spit it out, or I’m gonna start calling you Cad the Conqueror. Cad the Carnage Collector. Cad the Caped-”

“Bane,” Cad snarled, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Cad Bane.”

Jango tilted his head, taking off the dumb hat and giving Cad a thoughtful look. The fabools started bouncing impatiently against Jango’s legs.

“Cad Bane…”

Just hearing his new name from Jango’s lips already felt like an affirmation. But when that honest smile spread across Jango’s weather-beaten face, Cad knew it was official. “Oya, vod. That’s your name. Cad Bane is who you are.”

Cad tilted his new, wide-brim hat down a little, hiding his eyes. “You can keep callin’ me Caddy, if’n ya want. Just you. No one else.”

“I’d like that,” Jango said. “Caddy Bane and Jango Fett. Partners in crime, yeah?”

“Always,” Cad said. And he truly meant it.

He thought Jango did, too.

Crosshair…

Cad felt a tightness in his chest. That kid’s fate’s carved in durasteel. You know it. He knows it. Jango sure as fuck knows it.

Cad turned back to the bridge to find the kid - Crosshair - waiting for him outside the facility, rain soaking his silver hair.

He was waiting for Cad.

Sticking a toothpick in his mouth, Cad lowered his hat against the drizzle and strolled down the bridge towards the kid.

The kid was sniffling and wiping his eyes. “Stupid rain,” he hissed, though the mist was nothing compared to the raindrops falling from the kiddo’s eyes.

“You’re gonna be okay, kiddo,” Cad said and pressed the control panel, opening the door and pushing the kid gently inside.

The kiddo angled his head up at Cad. “But what about-?”

“Crosshair?” A small voice echoed from far down the hallway.

Cad turned to find a small boy, shorter and skinnier than the kiddo, standing in a gray jumpsuit, a datapad in his hand, and large yellow goggles magnifying his bright, brown eyes.

“Tech,” the kid’s voice cracked as if trying to call out louder than his augmented vocal cords would allow.

Crosshair broke into a run.

So did Tech.

Cad leaned against the wall, thumbs hooked in his belt, watching the two kids collapse into each other in a hug so hard they fell to the ground.

“Guess you missed me,” Crosshair hissed a quiet laugh, sitting up.

“An educated guess considering I don’t like losing my balance,” Tech said, adjusting his crooked goggles. They sat in the middle of the hallway, side-by-side, Tech's head on Crosshair's shoulder as they talked. “Wrecker cried two nights ago because he thought you were retired. I told him crying was a waste of energy since we have no proof if you were alive or dead.”

“I bet that made him cry harder,” Crosshair said.

Tech sighed. “It did and Hunter made me apologize.”

“Did…Hunter miss me?”

Before Cad could hear the answer, his attention turned to the familiar, assertive footsteps of his former mentor.

“Welcome back, Cad,” Jango said, standing beside Cad, helmet tucked under his arm. “Did the cadet give you any trouble?”

“Not any more than I used to cause you,” Cad said, folding his arms and tonguing his toothpick. “He’s ready to deal with anything y’all throw at him.”

“Good to hear.” Jango pulled out his datapad. “Well, deal’s a deal.”

Cad felt a buzz in his duster pocket signaling a heap of credits was just added to his account.

“Appreciate you taking this on, Cad. Knew you'd see it through.”

Cad and Jango stood there, both watching the kids as if they were at a park in the middle of Coruscant rather than a facility equipped to turn children into killing machines.

Cad sensed Jango wanted to say something, the hesitation apparent on his twitching lower lip and the way he glanced over at Cad watching the kids. “Either say it or don’t, but don’t keep lookin’ at me with those anooba pup eyes, Jango.”

“You could stay. Help train these kids to be prepared for…the future.”

“I ain’t gonna train kids to become soldiers that die for someone else’s cause.”

“It’s more complicated than that, Cad.”

“No it ain’t.” Cad said and spat his toothpick. It landed on Jango’s boot.

“If you change your mind-”

“I won’t.”

Jango sighed. “Fine. Take care of yourself, okay, Caddy.”

It felt like a knife had sheathed itself neatly in Cad’s chest right in the hole Jango left when he abandoned him. Cad refused to look at him. “Always do.”

Jango walked away. So did Cad.

And just like that, the job was over. The contract was closed. Cad Bane had no more business here.

Cad got as far as the exit sign before stopping in his tracks.

If I leave now…what happens to Crosshair? He deserves better, but what the fuck am I gonna do with a kid? Crosshair Bane, son of a bounty hunter whose profession is to piss off half the galaxy? Who has to look over his shoulder for bastards like Skatter every day of his life? What kind of future is that for the kiddo?

Then again, what future does he got right now?

Cad spun around. “Fett,” he snarled. “We need to talk.”

Jango looked back at Cad with a measured look. “What do you-”

“Not here,” Cad said, he glanced back at the kiddo eyeing him curiously before his attention was pulled back to Tech who was talking non-stop about something on his datapad.

“This way,” Jango said, and walked around the curvature of the hallway, stopping at a subtle door leading into a viewing room overlooking an obstacle course.

Jango set his helmet down and leaned against the glass pane. Far below the room, a group of identical kids dodged live blaster fire and were chased by skinny beige training droids Cad had never seen before.

Cad pulled out another toothpick and stuck it between his fangs.

“What’s wrong, Cad?”

Cad watched two of the kids crumple to the floor, while their brothers leapt over them, scrambling to safety from a barrage of blaster bolts.

Fuck this…

“How much do you want for him?” Cad asked.

There weren’t many things that threw the famous Mandalorian off his game, but Jango actually flinched. “What?”

“How much do you want for the kid? He and I work well together. He's better off with me.”

“With you,” Jango said dryly. “He's better off as some bounty hunter’s lackey?”

Cad rested his thumbs against his belt buckle. “I’d teach him all I know. He’d be…my legacy.”

Jango’s face fell, and for a split moment, Cad thought maybe this longshot would pay off.

“I’ll give you your credits back right now,” Cad continued. “And add more to sweeten the pot. Just name a price.”

“Dammit, Cad,” Jango sighed. “It’s not up to me. Even if it was, he’s part of a squad. We can’t split them up.”

“I’ll take the lot, then,” Cad said, feeling a little dizzy at his own proposal. He’d need a new ship. They’d need new clothes and a lot more food. Crosshair ate like he was part airlock. “Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, the whole-”

“Stop,” Jango snapped. “Dank farrik, Cad, what you’re asking is impossible. This isn’t for me to decide.”

“Your DNA runs through their veins. If not you, then who else do I gotta pay off?”

“This isn’t about credits. What they’re doing in this facility is a lot bigger than either of us. They aren’t orphaned kids…not like you. They’re-”

“Don’t fucking say it.”

“They’re property of their sponsor. Which isn’t me.”

Cad felt his hope start to lose its grip. “Jango…”

“You need to leave,” Jango said, standing up and slipping his helmet on. “Bringing you here was a mistake. It’s better for…all of us if you leave and never return.”

Cad’s hope plunged into the icy depths. He bared his fangs. “This is kraytshit, Jango. This whole program, this whole facility. It ain’t right and it ain’t you. And...I ain’t leavin’ without him.”

“Leave. Now. I’m not telling you again.”

And then Jango did something unimaginable to Cad Bane. He squared up, helmet on, and a hand over his blaster, like he was ready for a duel at high-noon. Of all the people in the galaxy, Jango was the last person Cad expected to face him like this.

His mentor, his hero, his best friend.

There was a time when he’d do anything for Jango Fett.

…Those days were dead and gone.

And Cad, for the first time in his life, surrendered. “Have it your way, Fett.”

For most folks, it was near impossible to read a Mandalorian’s expression once that helmet was on, but Cad felt Jango’s regret in the subtle way the helmet tilted.

“Caddy Bane and Jango Fett. Partners in crime, yeah?”

“Always.”

“Just one last thing,” Cad said, keeping his hands up and away from his blaster.

Jango’s scoff came out staticky through the vocoder. “You got a lot of nerve asking for anything else, Bane.”

“It ain’t much, just…get rid of Lieutenant Pynk. He’s a shit teacher and these kids ain’t gonna get anywhere with him. Choose someone like you. Hell, you teach ‘em. But not him.”

Jango didn’t move for several long seconds, then his posture relaxed. “That…I can do.”

“I got your word?” Cad pressed, lowering his hands slowly.

“You have my word,” Jango said. He didn’t remove his helmet. The last time Cad would see Jango was through a damn t-visor. “Goodbye, Bane.”

Cad made his own way back to the main hallway towards the docking platform’s exit.

The kid was waiting for him, blocking the door. A toothpick in his mouth, arms folded, and a boot making black streaks against the pristine white wall.

“Figured you’d be with your brothers by now,” Cad said.

“I want you to meet them,” Crosshair replied, looking down at the floor.

“Kiddo…”

“I told them all about you. They want to meet you. Please…”

Cad knew if he walked into a room with three more kids like Crosshair, he’d be putting himself in another impossible situation.

“Can’t. Trust me, it’s better this way.”

“Are you coming back? Can I train more with you?”

“You got all the trainin’ you need. I ain’t bein’ paid to do more than I did.”

“I just…” Crosshair looked up at Cad with large, heartbroken eyes. “I want you to come back.”

“It can’t happen.”

The look of devastation hit Cad’s heart harder than if the kid had shot him point blank.

“Okay,” the kid mumbled, his eyes falling to his own boots as he started to walk away.

“Wait. Just…hold on a sec,” Bane sighed and knelt down. “C’mere.” He took off his toothpick pouch and opened the flap showing Crosshair the mythosaur skull burned within. It was stuffed with toothpicks. “You hold onto this for me, okay? It’s my lucky pouch so I’m gonna want it back one day. It better be in good condition or I’m kickin’ your ass, ya hear?”

Crosshair cracked a smile and took the pouch.

“Roger that,” he said and clipped it to his belt next to his own pouch filled with more toothpicks and a melted starsbar.

“There’s…something else.” Cad said against his better judgment. He pulled out a small chit. “This chit has my personal frequency on it. Memorize it, then destroy it. If things fall to shit here and you need a - whatever the military calls it - an ‘ evac’ out of this whole damn life, you comm me and I’ll come getcha.”

Crosshair took the chit.

“Bane?” Tears started to escape the kid’s brave, glassy eyes. “Is my life going to fall to shit?”

Bane rubbed his face and huffed. “I don’t know, kiddo. But no one really knows what life’s gonna throw at us. What I can tell ya, is that what you're feelin' now, it ain’t forever, and it sure as hell ain’t the last time we’re seein’ each other. I promise ya that.”

The hug came out of nowhere. Little arms wrapped tightly around his neck in a death grip.

Cad Bane didn't know what to do. He knelt there. Stunned.

“What? Duros don’t hug? At all?”

“What the fuck is a ‘hug’?” Cad asked, sneering behind his beer.

“You’re fucking with me…” Jango swayed on the cantina stool. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to our shitty little crew and I wanna hug about it.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you…need a big ol’ mando hug.”

The hell of it was…Cad wanted that hug. Desperately.

He had needed a hug since he was old enough to understand what loneliness meant.

And a hug from Jango Fett - the first person Cad ever truly trusted, someone who was always going to be there for him - sounded damn near perfect.

But that’s the thing about wanting something this badly. It only makes life more painful when it’s taken away. Cad was used to losing those that mattered to him.

If he ever lost Jango, he didn't think he'd recover.

“No hugs. Duros custom.”

“Fine, fine,” Jango hiccupped. “Can’t fuck with ‘Duros custom’.”

A few minutes later, Cad tentatively leaned against Jango’s shoulder.

And a minute after that, Jango quietly draped a loose arm around Cad's neck.

They sat like that for a while.

It was nice.

Too nice.

But he tried to enjoy it while the moment lasted.

Cad gave Crosshair a strong pat on the back and waited for the kid’s grip to loosen. He didn't. He sighed and rested a hand on the kid's back.

“Listen, kiddo, people like you n’ me are survivors. We’re too damn stubborn to let this galaxy swallow us whole. Just keep your head up, keep those boots moving forward, and follow your gut n’ your gut alone. Got it?”

Crosshair mumbled something, but it was muffled against Cad’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna be okay, Crosshair.”

The kid suddenly pulled back, cheeks wet and he sniffled loudly. “Do you like it?”

Cad wondered if that innocent and hopeful expression on the kid's face is what Jango saw when Cad told him his new name.

Cad smirked. “You’re still Kiddo to me, but…yeah, Crosshair. You did good.”

The smile lit the kid’s whole damn face up. It was a wider smile than this galaxy deserved. A smile that Cad used to wear whenever Jango gave him that coveted approval.

“Go on, then,” Cad said, gently prying himself away and standing up. “Go be with your brothers.”

Crosshair gave a little salute, without a trace of sarcasm. “Bye, Bane.”

Walking back to the Justifier, Cad hoped that Crosshair would use that comm chit before Cad left orbit.

The practical side of him knew that the next time they saw each other, they’d both probably be completely different people.

And he wasn’t wrong.

***

The Clone Wars came and it was a profitable handful of years.

Cad made a lot of money off of desperate people and power-hungry gangsters alike. Whenever a job in Coruscant was available, he’d swipe it up, if only to scope out the clones stationed there.

He never did see a silver-haired clone among the troops, just a sea of identical helmets. He didn’t like the idea that any one of them could’ve been Crosshair.

His personal frequency remained quiet for years. Long after the Clone Wars was over…after the Empire made everything more complicated.

When the comm finally came in, however, it wasn’t from Crosshair…

…it was from one of his brothers.

“You got a lotta guts callin’ me,” Cad sneered, recognizing the soldier in front of him. “Figurin’ after our lil showdown over the lil lady's bounty you’d wanna steer clear.”

Hunter’s snarl reminded Cad a lot of a lil kid long ago, snarling in the wheat field, angry at himself for missing a target and angrier at the bounty hunter shooting at his feet for hesitating.

“Trust me,” Hunter said. “This wasn’t a call I wanted to make, but I’m not callin’ for me. It’s for Crosshair.”

Cad’s sneer faltered. He sat up. “What happened?”

Hunter’s surprise was evident on his face. Guess he didn’t figure Cad Bane cared about anything but credits. That was true…but he’d do anything for the kid.

“Come to these coordinates,” the soldier said. “He needs help…and he asked for you.”

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #tbb tech #tbb #bad batch tech #crosshair #cad bane #star wars the clone wars #tbb hunter #the bad batch hunter

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whovianwatchingstartrek · 6 months

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A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 078 - Slave Market Rescue

Star Trek: Enterprise - Season 4 Episode 4 - Borderland

We start this one with a cold open on a Klingon War Ship, which picks up two humans, who then precede to kill everyone aboard.

After the intro, we cut to a Starfleet prison, where Archer is visiting someone, specifically a prisoner who is apparently a genius for genetic modification. This guy and archer have the start of pretty interesting philosophical discussion about how inventions can bring both positives and negatives into the world, and the inventor's responsibility over those consiquences.. It's pretty on the nose way to bring an episode's theme into play, but it is an amazing theme to cover. The episode is about genetic engineering, and uses the example of nuclear science as a comparison example, but I'm also kind of reminded of another example in the Haber Process, a chemical process that can be used to make Fertiliser for crops really cheaply, but was also used to produce poison gas in World War 1.

Apparently, the humans who massacred that Klingon ship were genetically enhanced humans stolen by this prisoner. Archer is tasked with finding them, and bringing them back to earth. The Prisoner, his name Arik Soong, brings fantastic energy as a villain. I love his small innocent jabs at everyone, like telling Malcolm he "hasn't been seeing his share of the publicity". The way he delights getting under everyone's skin is just great, and I love that he seems to have some genuine parental love for the Augments. He is a fascinating villain.

It's lovely seeing Enterprise finally fixed up from the Damage the Xindi put in it. T'Pol has now officially joined Starfleet, and it's kinda cute that he got her a gift for signing up. I love the slight redesign that the bridge has received. The blue really makes it look a lot nicer than just the cold grey over the previous seasons had. A lot less utilitarian, and more homely.

While hunting the Augments, Enterprise is hit and Run by an alien group called The Orion Syndicate, apparently slavers, who transport 9 people off of Enterprise, so Enterprise's current mission is diverted to rescue them.

Luckily, Soong has access to the slave market planet, so he and Archer transport down together for the rescue. Archer's plan is to buy out the prisoners, which works for most of the captives, but T'pol was already sold. The plan to save her involved starting a full blown Riot. However during the process Soong attempts an escape of his own. Archer does successfully bring him back to Enterprise however.

Throughout the episode, we keep cutting back to the augments, and while I'm sure the whole power struggle between Malik and Raakin is plot important, I didn't really care much for them at all, at least until the end. Malik's ruthless takeover and murder of Raakin though was great at setting him up as a villain.

During the escape, some Orions open a firefight with Enterprise, but the Augments show up in their Klingon ship. They fight their way through enterprise, take archer hostage all for rescuing Soong, then make their escape.

This episode was a good set up for the coming story arc. We've got a phenomenal pair of villains, an amazing theme to play with and one hell of a cliffhanger. I'm excited for this arc.

Also, just because of how my day worked out, I ended up watching this one with my Partner, who has never watched an episode of Star Trek before and I'm still taking through Doctor Who. His review is that it "wasn't bad"

#whovian watching star trek #my partner also watched it #star trek #star trek enterprise #star trek ent #star trek: enterprise #enterprise #ent

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smowkie · 10 months

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i finished my bingo card from @ficreadingchallenge! i've already requested a new card, because this was great fun, and it made me read things i otherwise wouldn't have. thank you for hosting this event 💗🥰

list of fics under the cut

1. de-aging/kid

Thunder Song by almaasi

Garashir, DS9, 10,776 w, rated gen

summary:

After crash-landing on a stormy L-Class planet, Garak and Bashir begin to de-age rapidly. Now a scrawny pre-augment Julian must take shelter with six-year-old Elim, a tentatively murderous but desperately lonely boy. Julian can barely speak – and without functioning translators, Elim’s words are useless. But what they can do… is sing.

2. gift giving

Thinking of You by stateofintegrity

Garashir, DS9, 788 w, rated teen

summary:

Garak receives tangible proof that Julian is always thinking of him.

3. bodyswap

when I looked to myself I was somebody else by mythicalqueen

Kiradax, DS9, 5,829 w, rated gen

summary:

She turned towards the noise, her eyes widening in shock when she saw her own body sitting up on a biobed. She looked for a reflective surface, her mouth falling slightly open when she found one. Or rather, Kira’s mouth. She reached up and touched her nose to confirm what she was seeing. “Julian, I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but I'm Jadzia.” Julian raised his eyebrows and Kira turned towards them. Confusion took over her features, followed by disbelief and then realization. She rolled her eyes. “So that's why it feels like there are seven other people in my head. There are.”

4. hurt/comfort

Cold and Comfort by GenuineSnoof

Barisi, SVU, 9,717 w, rated teen

summary:

Sequel to "The Horrible Past, all the Fish and The Deal". Rafael gets locked in a dark garage by accident for hours.

5. rec'd by a friend (@rieraclaelin)

in the burning light we see by elysiumwaits

Adoribull, DA, 1,009 w, rated teen

summary:

It's not only the snows of Emprise du Lion that have chilled Dorian to the bone.

6. under the influence

A Certain Vulnerability by AreYouReady

Lwaxana/Odo/Quark, DS9, 1,181, rated teen

summary:

Quark makes Lwaxana a Margarita. Odo makes an arrest.

7. road trip

Just Ourselves - and Immortality by archea2

Wincest, SPN, 4,119 w, rated teen

summary:

Turns out soon is Sam on a bridge, and that rare species of hug that lasts enough Mississipis to flood all of Wisconsin and Dean’s heart into the bargain. And it’s only the beginning, the wind promises, ruffling Sam’s hair over the back of his neck and Dean’s fingers. (Written as pre-Wincest, but can easily be read as Gencest.)

8. mythical creature AU

Draconids by anonymous

Garashir, DS9, 1,569 w, rated gen

9. new (to you) pairing

And A Time To Learn by rommunisms

Jake/Nog, DS9, 2,566 w, rated gen

summary:

Set after 1x11 "The Nagus". Jake has been teaching Nog to read; Nog wants to return the favour.

10. daring rescue

Odo's Hero by imnotokaywiththerunning

Quodo, DS9, 1,337 w, rated gen

summary:

In a change of circumstance, Odo relies on Quark to get him out of trouble. It goes about as well as Odo expects.

11. historical AU

The Solicitor and the Chauffeur by Robin Hood (kjack89)

Barisi, SVU, 7,080 w, rated teen

summary:

“Not a footman either,” Sonny told him, lifting the soup tureen and bringing it to the table. “I’m the new chauffeur.” “Are you indeed,” Rafael murmured as he carefully ladled soup into his bowl. “Then Carisi it is, though I should love to know your given name anyway.” Something about the way he said it — or maybe just the way he looked up at Sonny, his green eyes mischievous — made Sonny blush, and he hurried to return the tureen to its spot, less he accidentally drop it and make even bigger a fool of himself. “Oh, uh, it’s Dominick, m’lord, but everyone calls me Sonny.” “Sonny,” Rafael repeated, sounding amused once again. “Of course you would be.” Sonny frowned slightly but before he could ask what exactly he meant by that, Rafael continued, “And you needn’t call me ‘my lord’, I haven’t a peerage yet.” “Yet, my—I mean, uh, sir?” For some reason, the question caused Rafael’s smile to disappear. “Yes,” he said stiffly, stirring his soup with his spoon. “Truth be told, I’m engaged to be married to Lady Calhoun.”

12. domestic/curtain fic

the way you sound in the morning by CrimsonPetrichor

Winterfalcon, MCU, 828 w, rated gen

summary:

Bucky is on his second cup of coffee and three chapters into The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when Sam finally stirs beside him. -- A slow morning with Sam and Bucky.

13. free space

14. happy ending

From the Dust by katiemariie

Garashir, DS9, 9,384 w, rated mature

summary:

When Sisko returns to linear existence, he tasks Julian with a special mission that takes him to Cardassia and Elim Garak.

15. angst

still by brewrosemilk

Buddie, 911, 9,368 w, rated teen

summary:

For the first time, Buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. Dirt to dig at. A door to break through. Something. There’s nothing. “Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." Inspired by Castle, S05E22: Still

16. lyrics title - listen to the song too!

Where Everybody Knows Your Name by shinealightonme

Jake Sisko & Quark, DS9, 7,329 w, rated gen

summary:

Probably the best way to prove that Jake doesn't need everyone hovering over him is not to go into business with Quark. But at least Quark isn't going to make him talk about his feelings.

17. podfic

Are you... scared? by allandrogynouscreatures read by SweetPollyOliver

Quodo, DS9, ~3 min, rated gen

summary:

While Quark and Odo are arguing in Odo's office, the station's power goes out.

18. unfinished/in progress

Fairy Tales in Deep Space by airandangels

Garashir, DS9, 21,555 w, rated gen

summary:

An interesting anthropological experiment: tell Elim Garak human fairy-tales, and see what he thinks the morals are.

19. holiday fic

A Game of Secrets by AstroGold

Garashir, DS9, 4,764 w, rated teen

summary:

It's a universal truth: Secret Santa gifts can get really elaborate. For Star Trek Secret Santa 2019

20. gen fic

Soldiers Were Children Once by sixbeforelunch

Quark, DS9, 1,297 w, rated teen

summary:

Quark understands these Federation types better than most Ferengi. This hasn't gotten him a moon yet, but maybe someday it will make him enough for a large asteroid. Set during the Dominion War, no specific spoilers.

21. fic with no comments yet

Practice by Dirge

Odo & Quark, DS9, 309 w, rated gen

summary:

"Ah. You broke into my desk drawer again."

22. rarepair

Monuments to Self-Loathing: A Par'Mach Comedy by katiemariie

Worf/Quark, DS9, 14,142 w, rated teen

summary:

Set somewhere in season four, Worf struggles to adjust to life on the station, choosing to spend his off hours alone in his quarters. When Sisko gives him a gift that obliges him to remain in public, Worf opts to hang out at the bar where he becomes a better father, rescues the innocent townsfolk, and strikes up a relationship with one person on DS9 he somehow doesn't hate talking to: Quark.

23. fic written by someone who follows you

More Simple Than Plain by LadyDrace @ladydrace

Garashir, DS9, 2,887 w, rated teen

It's the "crashed on a planet" trope, with additional "aliens made them do it". Except no one does it, and the aliens are something in the air. In any case, Garak goes feral, and it's cuter than anyone expected.

24. secret identity

Tech Support by kenshincha

Stony, MCU, 9,018 w, rated gen

summary:

A series of stories where Steve mistakes Tony for tech support and Tony goes along with it.

25. didn't know they were dating

Nice by Writer_Lethogica

Winterfalcon, MCU, 3,069 w, rated teen

summary:

Based on the fanart piece "nice" by villanette, Bucky has a mostly uneventful night at the Wilson household as he waits for Sam to come home from a mission. EXCERPT: “You need sleep,” Bucky said. Because while Sam took the mantle of Captain America, Bucky took the title of Captain Obvious. Sam snorted. Nice. Sam’s head fell onto Bucky’s shoulder lightly. “Really? I was thinking about just hanging out down here all night. Maybe throw a party,” mumbled Sam into Bucky’s skin. “Go up. I’ll meet you up there,” murmured Bucky, glancing over at his open prosthesis.

#Smowkie talks #summer fic reading bingo #ficreadingchallenge #Garashir #Kiradax #Barisi #Adoribull #Wincest #Jake x Nog #Quodo #Winterfalcon #Sambucky #Buddie #Stony

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buttermynutter · 2 years

Text

Signed, Viktor | 15/18

Transcript:

My personal magician,

I have been unbelievably stupid. I realize that being under stress - especially caused by physical ailments - is supposed to make oneself rash, but this truly wasn’t a mistake in the realm of falling into a lake or accidentally lying that you’re a council member to a council member that caught you after hours.

Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this lightheartedly already, but truly, the relief I feel is enough to heal me of anything. I cannot fathom my luck in that you came across me, though I still wince at the fact that you had spent a night by the bridges just to wait for me. I didn’t consider how easy it would be for you to make the choice to make a journey yourself; leaving you behind put you in harm's way much more than I realized. Either way, my heart is in your hands - even if I survived the serum, the night air would've gotten to the last of me.

The staff has informed me that Singed’s formula was indeed made to augment one’s performance, but only for a short period of time until it results in a downwards spiral, which explains why I was able to make it to as far as the bridges. Although they also told me it addles the mind, I’m afraid that all the choices I made leading up to it were my own. I wear constant reminders of it, as my veins have darkened tremendously and absolutely everything is cold to the touch, but I suppose you already knew that.

It still pains me to think that you had to bear the brunt of my audacity, so it surprised me a bit that your letter was of only concern without any sort of malice - though, knowing you, I should have expected it.

I very much don’t deserve it, but a tremendous weight was lifted off my shoulders as the nurse presented me your note. It was an even better feeling than opening my eyes to the light and realizing that I had been given another chance, no matter how dismissive of myself I was before. Holding that letter felt like it was a pane of glass that could shatter in my hands at any time, though I did damage it a bit with my tears. However, I realize mine have only made your burden heavier, so I will try my best to explain the unexplainable.

First of all, I have been told that I should recover from this specific calamity. I will be prescribed medication for blood pressure; it won’t be a cure-all, but I’ll no longer have to worry about bloody noses, headaches, and my bouts of dizziness. Of course, the problems run much deeper than that, so it would be a bit like putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

But, since I’m a unique case - in Piltover, at least - a Noxian consultant that was already visiting the hospital will be sent into my ward later today. It’s rumored they’re a sorcerer, so their help may be all I need. Naturally, I cannot simply ask them to help me using magic (legally, but when has that stopped me). However, if magic can scourge cities and breathe life into rocks, surely it can into my inconsequential self. If it can't, then, well. We'll just cross that bridge when we come to it, though I'm sure the both of us have faced enough bridges in these past few days.

Not to mention, I rather not have false hopes of my recovery to begin with. Either way, they have been to the edges of Runeterra from Ionia to Shurima, so I’m sure they have seen enough to have at least some solution, if not just to extend my life expectancy - I have been given a month or two to live on, but there are far too many things I want to do with you to merely pass without a fuss.

Don't fret too much at this information, I myself am not despairing. If even after all of this, after you miraculously came across me, after the serum was successfully drained from my body, and the strings on my soul are still cut, then it must be truly meant to be, as we were.

More importantly, I am sorry. One thing has weighed heavily on my mind, and my worries about it were certified once it was mentioned in your letter - the “Love”. No, I was not second guessing my feelings for you, and it pains me to know that I’ve caused you to think that. If there was any grip of reality I had during that episode, it was my affection for you. The only reason I had altered my salutation was because I didn't want it to come across as just trying to soothe the blow of the letter's contents; even now, I want the ability to take full accountability for my mistakes.

To be honest, I think a small part of me also wanted you to be angry at me. The last thing I'd wish for is you to blame yourself, and anyhow, any negative feelings directed towards me would be warranted.

I hope I haven’t worried you further with a lack of response these past few days, this is the first time I’ve woke since the bridges. This sickness may not be my fault, but my poor reception to it is, and I can only carry it with me.

I thought that maybe if such drastic measures were effective, then our days could go unchanged, that you would see me to be as strong as I see you. All my life I have been doing things alone, and I suppose I wasn't used to the fact that I didn't have to anymore, that I had my best way of living in front of me. Yet, I still tried to keep that way safe, forgetting that they could not only do so themselves, but would just as soon run into the danger on their own.

I will take care not to throw away my life so quickly in the future - I only wanted to be the best I could for you. Every time I look at you, every time you laugh, every time you plants with such care it’s as if you were watering paper, I believe more and more that you’re the one for me until I can’t remember there even was a time that I didn’t think you were. I just couldn't stand the a possibility that someone as wonderful as you would be stuck with somebody who can't even stand up on their own, much less accompany you on your adventures. You’re simply so full of life, and I am nothing if not the opposite.

Now, I know that none of that quite matters, because the most I can do is love you with all I have, both in ability and time.

While unconscious, my mind was still very much active - of course, mostly with thoughts of you. If it had not been, I don’t doubt that I would’ve merely let go. I already have an idea of how to repay you - it's not nearly as much as you deserve for all your suffering, but it's a start. Hopefully, I'll be here long enough to enjoy it to its fullest potential with you.

If it’s anything to you, I’m able to receive visitors starting tomorrow. Just know that there’ll be two cups of awful hospital coffee and a bedridden admirer waiting.

Love love (extra for compensation),

Viktor

━━━━━━━

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#signed viktor #arcane viktor #viktor/reader #viktor x reader #viktor #viktor x you #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #arcane league of legends #netflix arcane #league of legends x you #league of legends x reader #league of legends #league of legends fanfic #viktor the machine herald

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regentstreetclinicdubai · 1 year

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Non Surgical Nose Augmentation

Nose augmentation is a very popular request at Regent Street Clinic Dubai. The main indication is for the dorsal hump at the bridge of the nose and this area can be treated very effectively by experienced clinicians.

See more: https://www.regentstreetclinicdubai.com/nose/

#Non Surgical Nose Augmentation #nose bridge augmentation #Nose Augmentation Dubai

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drravenblackwoods · 6 months

Text

Name: Sheila

Age: over 300 years of age

Gender: Female

Species: Augment Klingon experiment/ half Betazoid.

Hair color/length/style: Long, Straight, black stops at her waist.

Eyes: Dark Green

Exotic Features: She has a triangle heart-shaped face with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Her porcelain pale skin is adorned with freckles. She has a button bridge nose.

Height: 5'5"

Weight: 130 pounds

Likes: Drawing, visiting the holo deck, horse back riding, sceneries, ocean views, other planets,

Dislikes: crule politics, bullies, heights, dark places, deep end waters, abused animals.

Flaws: loyalty/ loyal, kind, caring, shy, introvert,

Fears: in her dislikes

Job: Medical assistant

Mother: unknown

Father: Lieutenant Spock

Family:

Spock May have sons and daughters just not sure how to make this family tree

Spock’s parents death of his mother.

Spock and oc has a daughter (Raven)who ends up marrying Khan John Noonien Harrison Singh. (Raven oc mother and father)

They have a daughter ( 1 generation) who marries male characters.

Daughter and maybe others as well. The daughter marries male oc and has another daughter of ( 2 generation).

Daughter marries in 3rd generation.

Fourth Generation is oc and Data.

Other generations may just either have a daughter or more than one kid.

Bio: Sheila, a 300-year-old Augment experiment, stands out with her long, straight, black hair and dark green eyes. Her porcelain skin, adorned with freckles, frames a triangle heart-shaped face with a sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Standing at 5'5" and weighing 130 pounds, she has a button bridge nose that adds to her unique features.

In her free time, Sheila enjoys drawing, exploring the holodeck, horseback riding, and appreciating sceneries and ocean views on various planets. However, she dislikes cruel politics, bullies, heights, dark places, and the mistreatment of animals.

Her loyal and caring nature is complemented by her shyness and introverted tendencies. As a medical assistant, Sheila uses her skills to help others. Her fears are rooted in her dislikes, making her a compassionate character with a depth of experiences from her augmented past.

Sheila's journey began in a secret research facility where she underwent augmentation experiments. Straying away from her Klingon roots, the experiments endowed her with unique abilities and longevity, leaving her as a living testament to scientific exploration gone awry.

Despite her extraordinary abilities, Sheila found solace in simple pleasures. Drawing became her refuge, a way to express emotions that transcended centuries. The holodeck offered her a glimpse into diverse worlds, fulfilling a wanderlust that had spanned centuries.

Her role as a medical assistant became more than just a profession; it became a calling. Sheila's kindness and loyalty endeared her to those she assisted. However, her shy and introverted nature sometimes kept others at arm's length, concealing the complexity of her experiences.

As she navigates the vastness of the galaxy, Sheila's fears are a constant reminder of her augmented past. The echoes of dark places and mistreatment linger, shaping her into a character both resilient and compassionate, with a rich tapestry of experiences that transcend the boundaries of time and species.

Sheila's centuries-long existence has bestowed upon her a unique perspective, and her fascination with sceneries and ocean views stems from a desire to witness the beauty of countless planets. Horseback riding provides a connection to a simpler time, a reminder of the past she cherishes.

Beneath her calm exterior lies a fierce aversion to cruel politics, a disdain for power plays that harkens back to the ethical struggles of her experimental origins. Bullies trigger a deep-seated empathy, a reflection of her own experiences with adversity.

In contrast to her quiet strength, Sheila's flaws lie in her loyalty and kindness, sometimes making her vulnerable. Yet, these qualities also forge meaningful connections, creating a dichotomy that shapes her relationships. The fear of the deep end waters mirrors the unknown depths of her own augmented history, a mystery she grapples with as she navigates the vastness of space.

Sheila's story is one of resilience, compassion, and the constant pursuit of understanding both herself and the universe that unfolds before her.

In the corridors of starships, Sheila's footsteps echo with the weight of centuries. Her drawings, often depicting distant galaxies and alien landscapes, serve as windows into her mind—a mind that holds memories and wisdom accumulated over three centuries.

As a medical assistant, she encounters a myriad of species and ailments, each patient adding another layer to her understanding of life and its fragility. Her loyalty to the healing arts is not just a duty; it's a way to bring light to the dark corners of her augmented past.

The holo deck becomes her haven, where she can escape into holographic realms that mirror her dreams and aspirations. Yet, the shadows of her fears lurk, reminding her of the struggles she overcame to embrace the beauty that surrounds her.

Sheila's journey is a tapestry woven with threads of exploration, kindness, and a quiet strength that defies the limitations of time and species. In the ever-expanding universe, she remains a beacon of resilience, her story an unfolding odyssey through the cosmos.

Love:

Sheila's path intersects with Khan Noonien Singh, a figure from Earth's turbulent past, when their respective journeys bring them together on the vast stage of the galaxy.

Khan, with his magnetic charisma and storied history, finds an unexpected connection with Sheila. Her augmented past strikes a chord with his own experiences, creating a unique understanding that transcends the boundaries of time and origin.

Their interactions are a blend of shared struggles and quiet companionship. Sheila's artistic endeavors captivate Khan, providing him with glimpses of beauty he hadn't fully appreciated before. In turn, Khan's strength and resilience inspire Sheila, offering her a perspective on facing challenges head-on.

Their loyalty to each other grows, a bond forged not just in the stars but in the depths of their shared histories. Together, they navigate the complexities of the galaxy, a formidable duo balancing the echoes of their pasts with the promise of an uncertain future.

In the quiet moments shared between Sheila and Khan, there's an unspoken understanding that transcends the vast expanse of space. Sheila's gentleness complements Khan's intensity, creating a dynamic that surprises those who witness it.

Khan, once a symbol of power and ambition, finds solace in Sheila's artistry and the simple pleasures she holds dear. Her love for drawing becomes a shared passion, as they sketch out visions of a future where their augmented pasts don't define them.

Sheila, in turn, becomes Khan's anchor, tempering his more ruthless instincts with her caring nature. Their connection is a testament to the transformative power of companionship, each filling the voids in the other's life.

As they traverse the galaxy together, Sheila and Khan become a formidable team, not just in the face of external challenges but also in the internal struggles they help each other overcome. Their love story unfolds against the backdrop of the cosmos, a narrative of redemption, understanding, and the enduring strength found in unlikely unions.

Sheila's strength, both physical and emotional, becomes a source of inspiration for Khan. In moments of vulnerability, she holds him with a gentle resilience, helping him confront the echoes of his tumultuous past.

Their love is a silent force, expressed through shared glances and the touch of hands. Sheila's drawings often feature Khan, depicting him not as a conqueror, but as a man reshaped by the redemptive power of their connection.

Khan, in turn, recognizes Sheila's inner strength—the quiet resolve that carried her through centuries. He becomes her protector, not out of dominance, but out of a deep understanding of the fragility of her augmented existence.

Their bond is a sanctuary, a place where vulnerabilities are embraced rather than exploited. In the vastness of the galaxy, Sheila and Khan find strength in each other, their love a testament to the transformative power of compassion and shared resilience.

As they navigate the stars together, Sheila and Khan engage in rituals that strengthen their connection. Long walks through the holographic landscapes, where Sheila's love for sceneries aligns with Khan's rediscovery of the beauty in simplicity, become a cherished routine.

Their love is evident in the small gestures—Khan carefully tending to a collection of exotic flowers from different planets, and Sheila surprising him with intricately designed sketches that capture moments of joy and serenity.

In moments of adversity, their bond becomes an unbreakable shield. Sheila's loyalty and kindness balance Khan's intensity, creating a formidable team that conquers challenges not through force, but through understanding and support.

Through shared laughter and quiet conversations under simulated starlit skies, Sheila and Khan find strength in vulnerability, and their love story becomes a harmonious melody echoing through the vastness of the cosmos.

Captured by a rogue faction in an unexplored region of the galaxy, Sheila and Khan find themselves facing a new kind of challenge. Separated from the familiar embrace of starship corridors, their resilience is put to the test.

Despite the confines of their captivity, Sheila's artistic spirit persists. In the dimly lit cell, she sketches scenes of freedom and shared laughter, offering a visual escape for both of them. Khan, usually a force of confrontation, restrains his impulses, recognizing that their strength lies in unity rather than defiance.

Their communication becomes a silent language—a glance exchanged across the room, a touch that conveys reassurance in the face of uncertainty. Sheila's loyalty to Khan and his protective instincts amplify, creating an unspoken vow to overcome adversity together.

In the face of captivity, their love deepens, transforming the cold cell into a haven where their shared strength becomes an indomitable force, ready to defy any challenge the galaxy throws their way.

A twist of fate leads Sheila and Khan to find themselves frozen in cryogenic tubes, suspended in time for hundreds of years. As the galaxy evolves around them, the once dynamic duo becomes relics of a bygone era.

During their frozen slumber, Sheila's drawings take on a surreal quality, capturing dreams and memories that transcend the boundaries of time. Khan, once an emblem of power, now exists in a state of suspended animation, his intensity frozen in an eternal moment.

Awakening in a future they could not have anticipated, Sheila and Khan navigate a changed world. The contrast between Sheila's artistic sensitivity and Khan's historical perspective creates a unique lens through which they explore the advancements and challenges of the new era.

Their love, preserved in the cryogenic embrace, becomes a thread connecting past and present. Together, they face the disorientation of temporal displacement, drawing strength from the enduring bond that transcends centuries.

#star trek #khan noonien singh #khan noonian Singh x female reader #khan noonien singh x oc #star trek oc

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revivesurgery · 11 months

Text

The Ultimate Guide to Plastic Surgery in Miami: Your Path to a Perfectly Sculpted Body

Welcome to the ultimate guide to plastic surgery in Miami, where your dreams of a perfectly sculpted body can become a reality. With its sunny beaches and vibrant culture, Miami has become a hub for individuals seeking to enhance their natural beauty through cosmetic procedures. Whether you're looking to reshape your nose, enhance your breasts, or sculpt your body with the best liposuction, this guide will provide you with a comprehensive overview of the plastic surgery options available in the Magic City. From world-renowned surgeons to state-of-the-art facilities, Miami offers a wealth of resources to ensure your journey to self-improvement is safe, successful, and satisfying. So, if you're ready to take the next step towards a more confident and radiant you, join us as we navigate the world of plastic surgery in Miami, where the possibilities for transformation are endless. Let's embark on this journey together and discover how Miami can help you achieve the body of your dreams.

Popular Plastic Surgery Procedures in Miami

Miami is known for its diverse and cutting-edge plastic surgery procedures that cater to a wide range of aesthetic goals. From facial enhancements to body contouring, the city offers a plethora of options to help you achieve your desired look.

One of the most popular procedures in Miami is breast augmentation. Many women choose to enhance their breasts to achieve a fuller and more proportionate figure. Whether you desire a subtle increase in size or a more dramatic transformation, Miami's plastic surgeons are renowned for their expertise in breast augmentation procedures. They offer a variety of implant options, including saline and silicone, to ensure you achieve the natural-looking results you desire.

Another sought-after procedure in Miami is rhinoplasty, or nose reshaping. The nose is a prominent feature of the face, and many individuals seek rhinoplasty to correct imperfections, such as a crooked nose, a hump on the bridge, or a bulbous tip. Miami's plastic surgeons are skilled in creating balanced and harmonious results that enhance your facial features while maintaining your unique identity.

In addition to breast augmentation and rhinoplasty, Miami is also known for its expertise in body contouring procedures, such as liposuction and tummy tucks. Liposuction is a popular choice for individuals looking to remove stubborn fat deposits that are resistant to diet and exercise. It can be performed on various areas of the body, including the abdomen, thighs, arms, and neck. Tummy tucks, on the other hand, are ideal for individuals who have excess skin and weakened abdominal muscles due to weight loss or pregnancy. Miami's plastic surgeons have mastered the art of body contouring, providing patients with beautifully sculpted bodies and enhanced self-confidence.

With a wide range of plastic surgery procedures available in Miami, it's important to research and consult with a qualified plastic surgeon to determine which procedure is best suited to your individual needs and goals. By choosing the right procedure for you, you can embark on a journey to a more confident and radiant self.

Choosing the Right Plastic Surgeon in Miami

When it comes to plastic surgery, selecting the right surgeon is crucial for achieving optimal results and ensuring your safety. Miami is home to a myriad of skilled and experienced plastic surgeons, but it's essential to conduct thorough research and choose a surgeon who is board-certified and has a proven track record of successful procedures.

Start by seeking recommendations from friends, family, or trusted healthcare professionals who have undergone plastic surgery in Miami. Their firsthand experiences can provide valuable insights into the quality of care and results you can expect from a particular surgeon. Additionally, read online reviews and testimonials to gather a broader perspective on a surgeon's reputation and patient satisfaction.

Once you have a list of potential plastic surgeons, schedule consultations to meet them in person. During these consultations, ask about their experience, training, and credentials. Inquire about their specific areas of expertise and the number of similar procedures they have performed. Take note of their communication style and how comfortable you feel discussing your goals and concerns with them. A good plastic surgeon should listen attentively, provide honest and realistic expectations, and address any questions or apprehensions you may have.

During the consultation, ask to see before and after photos of previous patients who have undergone the procedure you are interested in. This will give you an idea of the surgeon's aesthetic style and the potential results you can expect. Additionally, inquire about the surgical techniques they use, the facilities where the procedure will be performed, and the safety measures in place to minimize the risk of complications.

By carefully evaluating your options and selecting a qualified and reputable plastic surgeon, you can have peace of mind knowing that you are in capable hands. Remember, your safety and satisfaction should always be the top priority when choosing a plastic surgeon in Miami.

Preparing for Plastic Surgery in Miami

Preparing for plastic surgery is essential to ensure a smooth and successful procedure. By following a few simple guidelines, you can optimize your chances of achieving the desired results and minimize the risk of complications.

First and foremost, it's crucial to maintain open and honest communication with your plastic surgeon throughout the preparation process. They will provide you with specific instructions tailored to your procedure and individual needs. These instructions may include dietary restrictions, medication adjustments, and lifestyle modifications leading up to the surgery. It's important to follow these instructions diligently to ensure your body is in the best possible condition for the procedure.

In the weeks leading up to your surgery, it's also important to adopt a healthy lifestyle and prioritize self-care. Eating a balanced diet, staying hydrated, and getting regular exercise can help strengthen your immune system and promote faster healing. Additionally, avoiding smoking and excessive alcohol consumption is vital, as these habits can impair the body's ability to heal and increase the risk of complications.

Another crucial aspect of preparation is arranging for a support system to assist you during your recovery period. Depending on the type of procedure you undergo, you may require assistance with daily activities, such as cooking, cleaning, and transportation. Enlist the help of a family member, friend, or professional caregiver to ensure you have the support you need during this time.

Lastly, mentally preparing for the surgery is just as important as the physical preparations. Plastic surgery can be a life-changing experience, and it's normal to experience a range of emotions, including excitement and anxiety. Take the time to reflect on your motivations and expectations, and discuss any concerns or apprehensions with your plastic surgeon. They can provide guidance and reassurance to alleviate any fears and help you approach the surgery with a positive mindset.

By diligently following your plastic surgeon's instructions, adopting a healthy lifestyle, arranging for a support system, and mentally preparing for the surgery, you can set yourself up for a successful and transformative plastic surgery experience in Miami.

What to Expect During Your Plastic Surgery Procedure in Miami

Once you have completed the necessary preparations, it's time to undergo your plastic surgery procedure in Miami. Understanding what to expect during the procedure can help alleviate anxiety and ensure a more comfortable experience.

On the day of your surgery, you will arrive at the designated facility, where you will be greeted by the surgical staff and prepared for the procedure. This process may involve changing into a surgical gown, having your vital signs monitored, and receiving any necessary pre-operative medications.

Next, you will be taken to the operating room, where the plastic surgeon and the surgical team will be waiting. The anesthesia will be administered to ensure your comfort during the procedure. The type of anesthesia used will depend on the specific procedure and your surgeon's recommendation. It could range from local anesthesia, which numbs only the specific area being treated, to general anesthesia, which renders you completely unconscious.

Once you are under anesthesia, the plastic surgeon will begin the procedure according to the predetermined surgical plan. They will make incisions, reshape or remove tissue, and close the incisions with sutures or other appropriate techniques. Throughout the procedure, the surgical team will monitor your vital signs and ensure your safety and comfort.

The duration of the surgery will vary depending on the complexity of the procedure. Some procedures, such as breast augmentation, can be completed in a few hours, while others, like body lifts, may require a longer surgical time.

After the surgery is complete, you will be taken to a recovery area, where you will be closely monitored as you wake up from the anesthesia. The surgical staff will provide pain medication, if necessary, and ensure your comfort while you recover from the effects of the anesthesia.

Once you are fully awake and stable, you will be discharged from the facility. It's important to arrange for transportation home, as you will not be able to drive immediately after the procedure due to the lingering effects of the anesthesia.

Understanding what to expect during your plastic surgery procedure in Miami can help alleviate anxiety and ensure a more comfortable experience. By following your plastic surgeon's instructions and trusting in their expertise, you can approach the procedure with confidence and excitement for the transformative results that lie ahead.

Recovery and Aftercare Tips for Plastic Surgery in Miami

Recovery and aftercare play a crucial role in the success of your plastic surgery procedure. After undergoing a transformative procedure in Miami, it's essential to follow your plastic surgeon's post-operative instructions to ensure optimal healing and long-lasting results.

Immediately after the surgery, you may experience discomfort, swelling, and bruising in the treated areas. Your plastic surgeon will prescribe pain medication to alleviate any pain or discomfort. It's important to take the medication as directed and avoid taking any over-the-counter medications without consulting your surgeon first.

To reduce swelling and promote healing, your plastic surgeon may recommend the use of cold compresses or ice packs. Applying these to the treated areas for short periods of time can help reduce inflammation and discomfort. However, it's important to follow your surgeon's instructions regarding the duration and frequency of cold compress application to avoid any adverse effects.

During the initial stages of recovery, it's important to prioritize rest and relaxation. Avoid strenuous activities, heavy lifting, and excessive movement that could strain the surgical incisions. Your body needs time to heal, and overexertion can delay the recovery process and increase the risk of complications.

Maintaining a healthy diet and staying hydrated are also essential during the recovery period. Proper nutrition and hydration support the body's healing processes and promote faster recovery. Eat a balanced diet rich in fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains. Additionally, drink plenty of water to stay hydrated and facilitate the removal of toxins from your system.

Follow your plastic surgeon's instructions regarding wound care and dressing changes. Keeping the surgical incisions clean and dry is crucial for preventing infections. Your surgeon will provide specific guidelines on how to care for the incisions, including the use of prescribed ointments or dressings.

Attend all follow-up appointments with your plastic surgeon as scheduled. These appointments allow your surgeon to monitor your recovery progress, address any concerns or complications, and make any necessary adjustments to your aftercare plan. It's important to communicate openly with your surgeon and report any unusual symptoms or side effects you may experience during the recovery period.

Depending on the procedure you undergo, the recovery period can vary in duration. Some procedures may require a few weeks of downtime, while others may require several months for complete healing. It's important to be patient and allow your body the time it needs to heal fully. Rushing the recovery process can compromise your results and increase the risk of complications.

By following your plastic surgeon's post-operative instructions, prioritizing rest and relaxation, maintaining a healthy diet and hydration, practicing proper wound care, attending follow-up appointments, and allowing your body ample time to heal, you can optimize your recovery and achieve long-lasting results from your plastic surgery procedure in Miami.

Risks and Complications of Plastic Surgery in Miami

As with any surgical procedure, plastic surgery in Miami carries certain risks and complications. It's crucial to be aware of these potential risks and have a thorough understanding of the safety measures in place to minimize them.

Common risks associated with plastic surgery include infection, bleeding, scarring, hematoma formation, and adverse reactions to anesthesia. While these risks are relatively rare, they can occur. To minimize the risk of infection, your surgeon will provide you with specific post-operative instructions regarding wound care and hygiene. Following these instructions diligently and reporting any signs of infection, such as increased pain, redness, or discharge, to your surgeon can help prevent complications.

Another potential risk of plastic surgery is poor wound healing, which can lead to unsightly scars. However, with proper wound care and following your surgeon's instructions, the chances of developing noticeable scars can be significantly reduced. Additionally, your surgeon may recommend scar treatment options, such as silicone sheets or topical creams, to further improve the appearance of scars.

In some cases, plastic surgery procedures can result in asymmetry or dissatisfaction with the aesthetic outcome. While plastic surgeons strive to achieve optimal results, individual healing and tissue response can vary, making it impossible to guarantee perfect symmetry. It's important to have realistic expectations and communicate openly with your surgeon about your desired outcome to ensure you are both on the same page.

Rare but serious complications, such as blood clots, seroma formation, or nerve damage, can occur during or after plastic surgery. However, these risks can be significantly minimized by choosing a qualified and experienced plastic surgeon, following pre-operative and post-operative instructions diligently, and attending all follow-up appointments.

To ensure your safety and minimize the risk of complications, always choose a board-certified plastic surgeon who operates in an accredited facility. Accredited facilities adhere to strict safety standards and regulations to ensure patient well-being. Additionally, follow your surgeon's instructions regarding pre-operative preparations, such as avoiding certain medications or supplements that can increase the risk of bleeding or complications.

By being aware of the potential risks and complications associated with plastic surgery in Miami, and by selecting a qualified plastic surgeon and following their instructions, you can minimize the likelihood of complications and enjoy a safe and successful surgical experience.

Conclusion

Congratulations! You've reached the end of the ultimate guide to plastic surgery in Miami. We've explored the popular procedures available, discussed the importance of choosing the right surgeon, and provided tips on preparing for surgery and taking care of yourself during recovery. We've also touched on the risks and costs associated with plastic surgery, as well as the power of real-life stories and testimonials. By arming yourself with knowledge and making informed decisions, you can embark on a successful journey towards a more confident and radiant you. Remember, plastic surgery is a personal choice, and it's important to prioritize your own happiness and well-being above all else. So, if you're ready to take the next step towards a perfectly sculpted body, Miami is waiting to welcome you with open arms. Embrace the possibilities and let Miami help you achieve the body of your dreams.

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