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weyrwolfen · 1 month

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Eidola: Chapter 20 - CT-22-1981 Snap

Rating: T

Characters: Gen, Clone Trooper OCs, Captain Rex, Ahsoka Tano, and other canon members of the 501st/332nd and the Bad Batch

Warnings: canon-typical violence; references to self-harm, injuries, and substance abuse; PTSD; it’s post-Order 66 and nobody is having a good time (but they’re all working on it)

Summary: The mission was never to bring down the Empire. Not really. The mission was to save every single one of their chipped brothers. But if doing do helped break the Empire’s stranglehold on the galaxy? Well, that was just a bonus.

“The kriff are those?” Snap asked without thinking. He almost flinched at his own language, half-expecting somebody to call him on the profanity. But there weren’t any kids around anymore, so he could say kriff again, all he wanted.

Osik’la consolation prize. He missed Gida and the other Lawquane kids already.

Fuse set down the odd carrier full of vials, each containing slips of some kind of plant, suspended in a hydrating nutrient gel. The leaves were dark green with rusty orange veins, but Snap didn’t recognize them. Cut had made sure they knew everything there was to know about the plants they’d been keeping on base, and whatever these ones were, they were new.

“A soporific, hopefully,” the medic said, leaning against the work bench. Snap pulled a sour expression, to which Fuse elaborated. “A sleep aid. Apparently you can dry out the leaves and make a tea with them.”

Right.

“A tea, huh?” Snap asked, not really expecting an answer. Kriffing everybody on base seemed to have sleep issues, at least some of the time. Insomnia. Nightmares. Whatever. Snap definitely had, especially at first. He’d kind of evened out over the last several months, but he still had his moments.

“It’s not as strong as the tabs, but at least it’s not habit forming,” Fuse answered anyway. “If we can get a decent crop of our own going, then we won’t have to worry about spotty supply issues either.”

Well, alright then. Half of their hydroponics units had been emptied out and the plants shipped off to Wadj, so it wasn’t like they didn’t have the room to experiment.

“What’s it’s chem-profile?” Snap nudging aside the box of scraps he’d been about to take to the reptavian colony and leaning closer to the mystery plants. He pulled one of the vials out of the carrier and gave it a closer look. At least it had been grown in something similar to the matrix their own machines used. If they’d been in actual kirffing dirt, like those pop-peas Rasp had brought back… what? Two missions ago? Kriffing nightmare, prepping those for the frames, and half of them had died anyway.

“Uh, no idea,” Fuse admitted, fishing a small datastick out of one of his belt pouches. “But they came with this?”

Snap took the stick and scowled. “Came from where?” he asked.

Fuse shrugged. “It was in the latest delivery of supplies the Mandalorians unloaded.”

That might be good news. Their grow units were Mando-design, maybe they’d luck out and whatever data was on this stick would have the correct chem codes up front and center. If not, Snap would have to figure out how to manually program one of the units again. He was pretty certain he remembered how to do that.

He was a heavy gunner, not a kriffing farmer. This hadn’t been part of his training.

But Cut and Suu had worked hard to teach Snap and his brothers before they’d shipped out, and Snap wasn’t going to let them down.

He grumbled a thanks to Fuse, who took that as his cue to beat a retreat back out of the workroom door.

There was a stack of datapads tossed on the end of the long workbench. Snap picked one up at random and plugged in the datastick. It took a second, but the file did eventually open.

Snap glanced through the text. Apparently the plant was called maara vine, chem profile 3, light level 1. Easy enough.

“Hat Trick!” Snap yelled, pretty certain that his brothers wouldn’t have worked their way so far down the halls as to be out of easy earshot.

The reptavians screeched in response from the neighboring room.

“Yeah?” Hat Trick said a few moments later, leaning over into the doorway.

“Can you handle this?” Snap asked, nodding vaguely in the direction of the crate of scraps. “The medics just dropped a project on me.”

Hat Trick grumbled something, no doubt uncomplimentary, under his breath, but he did pick up the crate and hit the door panel with his elbow. The demanding edge to the reptavians’ shrieks intensified when the door slid open.

Snap scrolled through the text, eyes catching on the pertinent sections. He traded the pad off to one hand and picked up the cradle of slips in the other. There was an isolated growing rack in the room Suu had set aside for the cadets’ science modules. It would probably be a good idea to keep these things separate from the food crops. Accidentally dosing the entire base’s meals with a sleep aid didn’t seem like a smart plan.

A group of Mandalorians had taken over the training mats in the back of the base’s gym, which was setting Snap on edge. It wasn’t like he’d been planning on sparring this shift, but he tended to get his hackles up around unfamiliar natborns.

Usually, this was a peak time for the gym facilities on base, but so many brothers had shipped out that the space felt weirdly empty, even with the addition of five Mandalorians. Not that Snap was entirely alone with them, there were a few other brothers in the room. Ajax was on one of the inclined benches, doing sit ups with a weight held against his chest. Whelk was guiding Feral through a few exercises.

Snap stacked his armor against one of the walls and took a few minutes to stretch out. Then he picked out a weight machine which would let him keep an eye on the rest of the room. The scavenged and improvised training equipment relied on actual, metal weights instead of grav-resistance generators, but Snap found he didn’t mind the clank of the objectively more primitive gear. He set the weight a notch higher than he had last time, settled into the chair, and curled his hands around the grips.

Counting reps wasn’t nearly enough to keep his mind fully occupied, but the Mandalorians were providing more than enough of a distraction. He didn’t know any of their names, but their armor was distinct enough that he was starting to recognize at least some of them on sight.

Black Cuirass with the Red Chevrons was currently kicking Orange Spaulders with the Weird Spikes around the informal ring. One of the ones he’d heard called a Nite Owl was acting as a referee or a spotter. Her armor was painted in the same colors as Kryze’s, mostly blues and grays, but it was far simpler in design. Two others, Three Shades of Green and Gold and Gray Stripes were standing off to one side, helmets angled towards one another, clearly talking about something, even if Snap was far too far away to overhear.

He couldn’t see any of their faces, but if he had to guess, Snap would have said that Orange Spaulders was younger than Black and Red, even if he was the taller and broader of the two by quite a bit. He was fast, but uncoordinated to a degree that would have gotten a sixth-year cadet sent to remedial training. Or worse. Black and Red, by comparison, moved like she knew what she was doing. The two of them were sparring with blades, and every point Not-Kryze had called so far had been in Black and Red’s favor.

The longer the fight went on, the more one-sided it became. Orange Spaulders was obviously letting his frustration get the better of him, getting more aggressive and less controlled with each successive attack. Black and Red wasn’t having any of it, dancing just outside of her opponent’s range and adding some well-placed kicks whenever he tried to charge her.

Not-Kryze called the match, right after Snap had finished adjusting his machine’s grips to their next configuration and started on his second set of reps.

Kark, that kid was skimming for trouble. He stomped out of the ring, body language all but shouting his anger and embarrassment. Snap snorted to himself, thinking of all of the karking awful osik that would have happened to him or any one of his brothers if they’d dared to act like that with one of their trainers.

And then, the puffed up di’kut turned and said something to Feral and Whelk, who were the closest two clones to the sparring ring. Whelk’s head snapped up at whatever had been said, but Feral?

Feral froze.

And then he bared his teeth in a way that couldn’t have ever been misinterpreted as a smile.

The weights slammed down with a sharp clang of abused metal when Snap released his grips mid-rep and rose.

Given his name, Snap would lay good credits on Feral always having been a little bit off, but anymore he came across as brittle, in a dangerous kind of way. He reacted oddly to things. Unpredictably. And maybe Snap had been in the 437th during the war, not the 501st, but Feral had been assigned to hydroponics, and that meant he was Snap’s responsibility.

And Snap was going to tear a strip out of that puffed up natborn, for whatever the kark he’d said to his little brother to get such a reaction.

Whelk had already moved to put himself between the Mandalorians and his brother. Snap didn’t hear what the medic was saying. Truthfully, he didn’t hear much of anything, except for a distant ringing in his ears. His vision had tunneled down dangerously as he crossed the room.

Snap was maybe six steps away from introducing himself to Orange Pauldrons, fist first, when someone intercepted him, fingers driving inward against the inside of Snap’s left bicep and down toward the bone, which sent a jolt of burning pain shooting along Snap’s nerves and made his arm involuntarily jerk back in a pained, defensive curl.

Kark, that really kriffing hurt.

Karking Corries.

Because of course it was Ajax. Of course it was. Whatever the kriff those painful ‘grab-and-squeeze’ techniques were, they weren’t part of the standard training regimen back on Kamino. And Ajax liked to feign complete ignorance whenever any of his brothers tried to ask him about them.

At least the moment Snap’s forward momentum stopped, Ajax loosened his grip enough for Snap to catch his breath. Kriffing ow.

“… Still recovering from a head injury,” Ajax was saying, when Snap got his head on straight enough to actually listen. Ajax was also giving Feral a hard side eye. “So, no. CT-37-4148 will not be cleared for sparring any time soon. However, CT-22-1981 or I would be happy to spar with any of you.”

Snap wasn’t sure if the use of their designation numbers was intentional, or if Ajax was also slipping into old habits around unfamiliar natborns.

He also didn’t exactly care all that much, just then.

Movement on the periphery of his vision drew Snap’s attention, and he tensed when he noticed Three Greens easing his hand off his holstered blaster.

Ajax’s hand went slightly tighter again, in obvious warning.

Snap didn’t relax, but he also kept his mouth shut. Kriff.

Apparently even Orange Pauldrons had realized he’d stepped in osik, if the tense, defensive set of his shoulders was any indication. He did manage to mumble a very half-hearted, awkward, “Uh, sure.” And then, when Not-Kryze shifted her stance pointedly, he amended, “I mean, I would be honored to.”

Ajax gave Whelk a very pointed look, and the 501st medic nodded minutely. Feral didn’t look very happy with being herded up off his bench and away from the situation, but he went along with it anyway. No one sane crossed a medic, and even if Feral wasn’t always on the right side of that line, even fewer of the clones on base would cross any of the Corries.

“I’ll suit up,” Snap said, eyes sliding back to Orange Pauldrons. The kriff had that overly-tall shebs said?

Ajax nodded, but he didn’t move to do the same. “You prefer blades?” he asked casually.

Too casually.

Snap refrained from snorting. So it was going to be like that?

By the time he’d strapped on his lower plate and rose to start in on his upper armor, Ajax was already in the ring, completely unarmored, holding two blunted practice knives against Orange Pauldrons’ full plate and powered down vibroblades.

Snap knew where he would place his wagers though.

“First to ten points,” Not-Kryze was saying, when Snap walked back within easy hearing distance, bucket in hand. She had her arms crossed over her cuirass, but her helmet was canted at an angle Snap would have called ‘dubious,’ or maybe even ‘concerned.’

But Ajax, unarmored and functionally unarmed as he was, just nodded and said, “Understood.”

Not-Kryze simply stepped back out of the ring, dropping her arms and making a brief gesture of invitation with one hand. Under her breath, Snap could just hear her mutter under her breath, “Your funeral.”

Ajax didn’t look terribly concerned. He simply widened his stance and raised both practice daggers in a reverse grip, dulled edges facing forward and down.

Orange Pauldrons looked conflicted. He was tense, obviously knowing he’d stuck his foot in it, but his pride was also stung. He took an uneasy stance of his own, single vibroblade leading, balled fist back and ready to punch.

Ajax just waited, expression so blank he almost looked bored.

Orange Pauldrons stepped forward, making a small feint with his blade.

Ajax stepped smoothly to the side, squaring back up with his opponent.

One more cautious jab, then another, slightly more emphatic. Then Orange Pauldrons lunged forward, fully committing to a powerful, backhanded slash with his blade.

The Corrie dropped low under the attack, left arm raised, knife angled up to catch or block any retaliatory swipe, and slammed his other fist, gripped around the hilt of his other practice blade, into the inside of Orange Pauldron’s right knee, in the gap between the man’s cuisse and greave.

The leg buckled.

Ajax rose even as his opponent staggered, catching Orange Pauldron’s arm in the hook made between the back of his blade and his left vambrace, right hand reversing, then diverting at the last second so that the side of his forearm, and not the tip of the practice knife, struck the side of the Mando’s neck, up close to the juncture where his helmet just covered his jaw line.

Orange Pauldrons dropped like a stone.

The other Mandos shifted there own stances at that, clearly adjusting their assessment of the fight unfolding in the ring between them.

Snap probably should have put his bucket on. He was having a hard time not smirking, because he clearly knew something Not-Kryze and the other Mandalorians were only starting to suspect.

Ajax was pulling his punches.

That knee-strike could have been debilitating if Ajax had wanted it to be, tearing up cartilage and tendons to the point that only bacta could have really fixed it.

Ajax wasn’t an ARC, or an RC, or any of the other named designations for special forces within the GAR. The Corries weren’t exactly sharing whatever hierarchies and training specializations the Guard had built for itself, but the three of them had been on a hand-picked team which had been sent to Mandalore and help subdue a rogue Sith. None of them were pushovers, the rare times their brothers could entice any of them into the ring, but of the three Guards, Ajax was indisputably the best.

Orange Pauldrons rolled on his side with a muted groan and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

Not-Kryze cleared her throat, but her voice was cool and steady when she said, “One, zero.”

Orange Pauldrons took a more defensive stance and waited, right leg visibly wobbling, clearly meaning to approach the rest of this fight with a little more caution.

Ajax obliged him, leaping forward with a quick series of punches and kicks. The Mando did manage to successfully block them, but he was also back on his heels, fully on the defensive.

And that was clearly what Ajax wanted, because the second Orange Pauldrons misjudged, staggering on his injured leg, Ajax was on him, deflecting his left arm high and directing an upwardly angled punch into his unarmored armpit.

Snap, having never actually been punched in the armpit before, didn’t know what the kriff Ajax had hit with that move, but Orange Pauldrons made a noise that sounded like the worst parts of a wheeze and a squawk.

Kriffing Corries.

Snap broke down and decided to put his helmet on, because he was dying here, and he didn’t trust in his ability to keep a straight face for much longer.

Not-Kryze looked at Orange Pauldrons, who was bent double, left arm tucked against his chest, clearly trying to catch his breath. “Two, zero,” she said, and then asked, tone flat, “Zane, are you out?”

“No,” Orange Pauldrons, Zane, managed to say as he straightened into a defensive stance once more, bristling angrily.

A very small, Snap would call it mean, smile curled up one side of Ajax’s mouth.

He took a ready stance very close to Zane, almost daring the Mando to reach out and grab his unarmored opponent.

And because the only thing keeping Zane on his feet was pride, and because Ajax was intentionally stinging it, the di’kut lunged forward and tried to do just that.

Except Ajax threw one of his knives at the man’s visor and followed through with the unexpected distraction by driving his heel onto the top of Orange Pauldron’s booted foot. His synthleather, not beskar, covered foot.

Caught thoroughly off guard from yet another unexpected burst of pain and flailing to regain his compromised balance, Orange Pauldrons barely seemed to notice when Ajax dropped low to sweep his other foot out from under him.

He hit the ground hard, helmeted head clanging loudly against the floor.

Ajax, retrieved his knife and rose, dropping into a ready stance again.

Zane looked up at him briefly and then let his head drop back down on the floor again. “Yeah, no. I’m done,” he admitted, sounding hoarse through his helmet’s vocoder.

Ajax nodded and offered the Mandalorian a hand up.

Snap wasn’t particularly discrete about the fist bump he offered Ajax when the Guard walked past him, but when Ajax returned the congratulatory gesture with an otherwise blank, composed face, Snap also leaned over and whispered just loud enough for his bucket’s mic to engage, “What the kriff did he say to Feral and Whelk?”

“He asked if they had ever fought a Force user,” Ajax said quietly. “I suspect he meant Maul, but Feral and Whelk took it about like you’d expect.”

Force. They were lucky Feral hadn’t dove on the di’kut, right then and there. Everybody knew, but nobody talked about what had happened on Coruscant, when the Order had gone out. That had been true, even before the eight 501st survivors had been brought back from Hadros.

Something of Snap’s scowl must have shown through his bucket, because Ajax said, “Weaver and I will handle any explanations, but I suspect it won’t be necessary.” He glanced pointedly over his shoulder, and Snap turned to follow the pointed look. Not-Kryze and Gold and Gray were hovering over Orange Pauldrons, who had slumped back down against the wall. It looked like the two of them were giving the shiny, and with his helmet off he looked barely old enough to even be a shiny, what looked to be a very quiet, but very thorough dressing down.

Good.

They did not need a bunch of Mandos accidentally dumping salt into those particular wounds. Not if they wanted to maintain the uneasy peace on base.

Ajax gave Snap a pointed look, and then continued off in the direction of his own armor, point apparently made.

“So,” Snap drawled, catching the Mandalorians’ attention. “Any takers for another spar?”

Three Shades of Green crossed his arms across his cuirass and snorted. “Depends,” he said in a deep, oddly accented voice. “Do you fight as well as him?”

Snap grinned under his bucket, and even though he knew he wasn’t in Ajax’s league, he still answered with, “Only one way to find out.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Snap grumbled, hitting the control pad with his elbow. “Calm the kriff down.”

The reptavians, if they understood him at all, did not calm the kriff down. In fact, they only got louder. The ear-splitting screeching did settle down into slightly more tolerable hissing when he opened the cover on the food chute and poured in the day’s allotment of kitchen and gardening waste.

They were pretty little things, mean as osik and vicious, but brightly colored. Snap and his brothers collected the feathers, whenever they cleaned out the enclosure, but it was more out of force of habit than anything else. Ris wasn’t using them in lessons for the cadets anymore, and Ferin wasn’t popping in at off hours to request stuffing for the bedding and soft tubie toys Suu had asked him to make for Gida.

It felt wrong to just incinerate them though. Wasteful. Maybe they’d figure out something else to do with them.

One of the bigger females took a flying leap over her sisters and hit the grate in front of Snap’s face and clung, sharp talons catching on the heavy metal wires which twisted together to make the walls of the cage. He jerked, spilling some of the food waste on the floor for his troubles.

“Duchess, you shebs,” he said, shaking the last few scraps into the chute and then setting the empty crate aside. He bent down to pick up the scattered fruit peels and other, less identifiable bits of organic debris. When he rose and moved to drop them into the chute, the reptavian, Duchess, hissed and rattled at the walls of her cage indignantly.

Snap sighed, but shifted the pile of scraps into one hand so he could poke one of the larger pieces of peel through the study, metal grate.

The violent little ingrate snapped the orange sliver of rind and threw her head back, swallowing the food in one go.

He offered her another piece.

He really shouldn’t get attached to any of the reptavians, they were here to be food after all, but he couldn’t really help himself. Duchess was a little shabuir, but she had an unusually bright, blue-green crest of feathers down her back, and he’d named her, so that was apparently that.

Honestly, it was a safe enough choice. The brothers assigned to the kitchens had gotten into a habit of taking the males for meat, once their red-ruffed manes came in, but leaving the females behind to keep laying more eggs. It wasn’t like she was going to end up in his rations any time soon.

Not that he’d been eating the reptavian meat dishes lately anyway. But that was just because he didn’t like the flavor. Really.

Snap poked the last bit of food through the cage and then showed his hands, back and front, like a sabacc dealer. “No more,” he said, and the little osik hissed at him anyway. As if there wasn’t a giant pile of additional scraps in the bin on the floor. “You can karking well fight your sisters for the rest.”

The reptavian cocked her head to one side and gave him the most scathing glare out of her bright, red eye, before seemingly taking his words at face value, leaping down off of the wall of the cage and landing on two of her siblings, who screeched in indignation.

While the flock was thoroughly distracted, he walked around the corner of the cage and started unlatching and sliding open the nesting drawers.

Cut had walked Snap through the process of sorting eggs before he’d shipped out. The trick was, they changed colors when they were fertilized. The off-white eggs went straight into the freshly emptied crate, while the darker tan ones stayed in the drawers to hatch the next round of voracious little monsters. Any eggs with a more ambiguous color could be held up to the room’s overhead lights. The fertilized ones usually had an opaque band of shell around the middle.

There were enough unfertilized eggs this time to fill the bottom of the crate, carefully stacked three deep.

Maybe they could get the Mandos who’d signed on to take shifts in the mess to make more of that spicy egg casserole.

He’d left his helmet in the workroom while he’d dealt with the reptavians. After he punched a message into his vambrace alerting Spoons that the eggs were ready for pickup, he picked it up and noticed an alert flashing inside. Pulling it on, he found a message from Weaver waiting.

Apparently the Guard wanted to know if Snap would be interested in the additional help, which, kriff yes! Especially since they were expecting a bunch of returning Mandos as soon as the mission to Abainya was settled. Reading further, he found the catch.

The whole list of volunteers was made up of unfamiliar, Mandalorian names.

He’d have to ask if Delta, Link, and the other 501st brothers would be willing to put up with them though. That might be a hard sell. As for Snap himself, he found he didn’t mind the idea that much.

“New toy?” Snap asked, grabbing the seat next to Tenor. Somebody had shoved the exercise equipment into even closer quarters to make room for two rows of metal-composite benches scrounged up from kark even knew where. He could have stayed upstairs to eat his lunch, but why do that when he could take in a show instead?

Tenor looked up from the small knife he’d been rolling over and over in his hands. It was a simple-looking thing, barely longer than his hand, with a straight spine, a curved edge, and a handle wrapped in some kind of braided cordage. Definitely non-regulation, but the edge looked sharp enough.

“I guess so,” Tenor finally replied. He sounded weirdly conflicted. “Woves showed me how to make it.”

Snap speared one of the cubed, red chunks out of his bowl – a Difranian helituber [chem profile 2a, light level 6], unless he missed his mark – and stuck it in his mouth, chewing slowly and considering. He’d really thought he’d learned all of their newest brothers’ names at this point, but he didn’t know anybody on base named Woves.

“Who’s Woves?” he finally asked, stabbing at another tuber chunk.

Tenor eyed Snap for a second before his gaze pointedly slid across the still-empty sparring ring, to the Mandalorians clustered on their own set of benches. There was a wide gulf of empty space between them, but Tenor’s voice still dropped low when he answered, “See the pale one in the gray and green armor?”

Wait, Woves wasn’t a brother?

It didn’t take long for Snap to find his target. Tenor hadn’t been kidding about the man being pale. Pale hair, pale skin, pale shades of green and gray over a pale gray bodysuit. He was speaking to two other men whose armor Snap did not recognize. “The one who looks like he fell in a vat of bleaching agent?” he asked, also speaking in a quiet tone of voice.

“Uh huh,” Tenor said, carefully testing the edge of the blade with his thumb. “I don’t know. He says he owes Buckler for something, but Buckler shipped out, so I guess I’m the next best thing.”

Snap’s eyes widened suddenly, looking down at the odd blade in a new light. “That’s not…” he trailed off.

“Beskar?” Tenor asked with a snort. “No. Just some spare alloy the recycler kicked out.”

Oh. That was a little disappointing. But still… “Think he’ll teach you how to make armor too?”

Tenor’s expression twisted weirdly again. “Maybe?”

That had a lot of potential. It wasn’t exactly a secret that while plastoid was cheap and easy to work with, it wasn’t the strongest material out there. Snap wore his armor like a second skin and poured his soul into maintaining his paint, but at the end of the day, his plate was mass-produced gear for a mass-produced army. “Let me know when you start taking orders for durasteel,” he said, only half joking. He was sure the Reaper and Raider teams would get first dibs, but just because he wasn’t on the front lines anymore didn’t mean he’d turn down a sizable upgrade in his equipment.

“Who’s taking durasteel orders?” Ding asked, sitting down on the bench behind Snap and Tenor. Some of the remaining brothers from engineering and the deck crew were filing in after him.

“Nobody,” Tenor grumbled.

“Tenor,” Snap said, at the exact same time.

Ding looked back and forth between the two of them, one eyebrow inching upwards.

Tenor just heaved a very put-upon sigh and said, “One of the Mandos taught me how to make this.” He held up the cord-wrapped blade. “And Snap’s reading way too far into it.”

“Let me see,” Ding said, sticking out a hand, palm up, for the knife.

Tenor handed it over, and Ding eyed it appreciatively.

Snap didn’t comment, even if he was sorely tempted to. He didn’t actually think he was reading too far into anything. Mandalorians took their weapons and armor very seriously, and they had this whole cultural thing about making them. Instead, he just speared a spike shoot [chem profile 2, light level 2], popped it in his mouth, and chewed on it.

“They’re certainly trying awfully hard to win us over,” Ding said, flipping the knife around and handing it back to Tenor hilt first.

Snap pointed his empty fork at Ding. “Right?” he said, thinking of the first batch of maara vine leaves he’d passed along to the medics.

Tenor just glowered.

Snap didn’t know what the kriff his problem was.

“But we’re still under orders to conceal the location of our other bases,” Tenor finally said.

Arches leaned around Ding, joining the conversation with, “You think they’ve told us about all of theirs?”

“No,” Tenor replied, sharp and obviously annoyed. “But I also think Lady Kryze hand-picked people who were the most likely to keep the peace.”

“And then threatened them if they didn’t,” Arches agreed.

This was all starting to sound an awful lot like politics, which was firmly Corrie business and not Snap’s.

But at the same time, he wasn’t sure he agreed with the political conclusions his brothers had reached, so he asked Tenor, “Think she asked Woves to teach you how to make knives?”

Tenor didn’t have a quick answer for that, cynical or otherwise.

Neither did any of the others.

“So, speaking of Corrie business,” Ding finally said, clearly dropping the subject. “Ajax is fighting…” he scanned the board some enterprising brother had hung up on the wall. “Ergan Vayn. Who the kriff is Ergan Vayn?”

“Red helmet,” Cutter volunteered, from his seat a few spots down from Ding. “And the cuirass painted to look like a ribcage.”

Right. Snap actually did recognize him.

And after that would be Zipps, who’d joined a few other brothers in erasing his number from the bracket and replaced it with his actual name, and Black and Red, whose name Snap had finally learned was Lytra Krest.

She’d knocked Snap out of the competition yesterday, and while his back still smarted from the bout, he couldn’t exactly argue with the way it had ended. Krest was kriffing quick and fierce. Zipps was going to have a time with her.

“The Abainya mission went well, so Captain Rex should be getting back soon,” Snap said, leaning back to grin at Cutter. “Rumor is, he’s going to fight whoever wins this bracket.”

That got some very interested looks.

“And does the Captain know about that?” Ocher asked dryly.

Snap grinned.

“Weaver’s supposed to tell him.”

The mess was packed, with third shift cycling off for their late meal and sleep cycle, first shift grabbing caff before rotating on duty, and several newly arrived Mandalorians, fresh from Abainya. Half of them were missing pieces of armor, exposing bacta bandages and a variety of medical braces underneath. The smell of burn cream filled the room, even over the sharp scent of heavily spiced food.

Snap tried to make his way through the room without bumping into anybody, assuming for every injury he could see, there were probably three more hidden under body suits and armor plates.

He found Ocher and Nails already at the caff station. Ocher was adding sweetener to his caff, but Nails was filling his own mug out of a smaller carafe containing hot water. Snap wouldn’t have pegged Nails for a tea-drinker, but whatever.

Except the little fabric pouch he dropped in the cup had a medical tag hanging off of it, and Snap’s sleep-fuzzy brain finally made the connection.

“How’s that working?” he asked Nails, nodding at the mug in his brother’s hands.

Nails looked up sharply, as if expecting some kind of a trap, but after only a moment’s pause, he just shrugged. “Well enough,” he admitted, but then he grimaced a little. “It’s bitter as all kriff.”

“Ask Fuse if you can add some sweetener or something,” Snap suggested, reaching for a cup of his own. “Gotta be something that can mask the flavor without mucking with the effects.”

Nails scrunched up his nose, but he didn’t outright reject the suggestion.

The caff sloshed into Snap’s mug, near to overflowing. He bent awkwardly to sip some of the excess off, so he wouldn’t spill more.

“Let me know when you’re headed out to-,” Snap paused, eyes landing on the closest Mandalorians, and rapidly adjusted what he’d been about to say. “Your old corps, and I’ll pack up a couple of the plants for you.”

He probably should have run that past Fuse or one of the other medics first, but whatever. If the tea was working, it was working, and Snap knew perfectly kriffing well that their brothers on Wadj were having at least as many sleep issues as the ones stationed on the Draboon VIII base.

If anything, Nails’ expression got even more sour. “I’ll probably kill it.”

And now it was Snap’s turn to shrug. “So give it to somebody with a clue,” he said, picking up his cup and stepping a little to the side, so he wasn’t blocking access to the caff anymore. “I’ll send instructions. They’re kriffing hard to kill.”

Truthfully, the vines were growing like weeds. Snap was going to have to start cutting them back one way or the other, and he knew perfectly kriffing well how many grow racks they’d packed up to send with the Lawquanes.

Nails nodded, coming to some conclusion that made him square his shoulders a little. “I’m on the next ship out,” he said.

“Good,” Snap replied, because it was good news, even if it didn’t leave him much time to prep the plants for transport. “I’ll get some cuttings ready to go.”

The Captain turned to eye Weaver flatly. “This is the ‘diplomatic effort’ you needed my assistance to pull off?” he asked, tone very dry.

A wave of badly suppressed snickers rippled through the crowd, clone and Mandalorian alike. The gym was packed, standing room only, even with extra chairs dragged in from all over base. Snap had given his entire team the shift off to attend, and he was pretty certain the other teams on base had done the same. No kriffing way was he going to miss this, but hopefully somebody was off minding the comms and life support systems.

Weaver, to his credit, didn’t quail under the Captain’s thinly veiled accusation. “It has been remarkably good for morale and inter-faction cooperation in your absence, Sir,” he said mildly.

Captain Rex sighed like his soul was leaving his body, and he eyed Ajax critically.

Ajax, who was already in the ring with his bucket tucked under one arm, just smiled placidly.

Kriff.

Never let it be said that the Corries lacked stones.

“I’m guessing Commander Fox gave you some pointers?” the Captain asked, sounding more than a little resigned.

Ajax’s smile got just a little sharper. “No more than Commander Cody gave you, Sir.”

The Captain pulled on his bucket and asked, “Rules of engagement?”

“First to ten points,” Panz said. And wasn’t that saying something, that they’d tagged a medic to referee this fight?

“First to submission,” Ajax countered blandly, tugging on his own helmet.

The Captain tipped his head to one side, then the other, obviously making a show of stretching out the muscles along his shoulders. “First to submission,” he agreed.

Panz looked like he wanted to murder both of them.

Weaver held out a hand expectantly, and Captain Rex’s shoulders moved like he’d just huffed a laugh which was too quiet to be picked up by his helmet’s internal mic system. He drew both of his blasters and handed them off, but he didn’t stop there. His charge packs followed, then a pair of thermal detonators, and then he unsnapped his pauldron and draped it over Weaver’s arm before loosening his utility belt to access the fasteners for his kamas.

Ajax’s smile widened into a grin that showed off most of his teeth.

Snap figured he knew where the Captain was coming from. He wouldn’t want to offer up the Corrie any free hand holds either.

Manx elbowed Snap in the ribs and tipped a bowl of fried, spiced legumes [chem profile 7, light level 3] in offering.

Kriff, yeah. Snap took a handful and popped one in his mouth.

“You got any bets riding on this?” Manx asked.

Di’kutla question. Everybody had bets riding on this fight. Maybe not in credits, but in favors and intel, shift assignments and bragging rights. Snap had overheard three Mandalorians joking about proposing marriage to the winner. At least, he thought they’d been joking.

“Captain Rex, of course,” Snap said, with only the smallest flicker of doubt. Betting against the Captain was generally a losing proposition, but Ajax was really kriffing good. One way or the other, it was going to be one haran of a show.

By the time Captain Rex stepped into the ring, he’d pretty well stripped down to his bare plate, with only a single vibroblade hanging off of his belt, which seemed only fair, because Ajax had also kept his two knives in the custom sheath he kept in the small of his back. Neither one of them drew their weapons though, they just fell in on either side of the wide ring, watching one another.

“I will call the match, if I think it’s medically necessary to do so,” Panz said darkly and then stepped back, out of the ring.

How the kriff the medic managed to make being a total wet blanket so threatening was a complete mystery to Snap.

But apparently that was all the signal either man needed, because both of them were moving, Ajax in a wide circle and Captain Rex in a smaller pivot, tracking his opponent without giving ground, letting the Guard close distance, if that was what he really wanted.

Apparently Ajax did want that exact thing, because he was abruptly spinning, directing a kick towards the outside of Captain Rex’s leading knee.

Kriff, he was fast, but Captain Rex was a gen one, amongst the oldest CTs in the GAR, and that experience showed. He drew back, just enough to shift out of immediate range.

If Snap had been in the ring, he’d have surged forward, trying to take advantage of Ajax’s exposed back when the initial kick missed, except the Guard wasn’t stopping, continuing his rotation even as he dropped lower, pivoting to the opposite foot and then following through with sweeping reverse kick at the Captain’s ankle.

But it looked like the Captain had anticipated that move as well, because he shifted his stance one more time, lifting his foot just high enough to pass over Ajax’s lightning-quick kick. Then he planted his foot and followed through with a kick of his own, with the full weight of his body twisting to add force to the blow.

Ajax managed to roll away, tumbling with the force of the kick and darting back up to his feet, seemingly unscathed, with an unnecessary, almost playful bounce in his stance.

One of the Mandos whooped, breaking the breathless silence of the crowd.

“Get him!” one of Snap’s brothers, probably Boar, shouted.

Snap had no idea which ‘him’ that was directed at, but it probably didn’t matter.

He kind of felt like he should have been taking notes: Ajax’s speed and precision against Captain Rex’s economy of movement and punishingly powerful blows.

When Snap would have tried for a block or a dodge, the Captain accepted the hit, shifting just enough that Ajax’s strike glanced off of his armor instead of the more vulnerable spots exposed between the plates. That gave him a fraction of a second more time to close distance with the Guard and slam a knee into Ajax’s side with enough force to make the plastoid creak in protest.

Instead of retreating out of the range of one of Captain Rex’s incoming punches, which was definitely what Snap would have tried, Ajax actually twisted to the side, reaching up and grabbing the outside of the Captain’s wrist with his right hand and then snapping an open palm against the back of Rex’s elbow. And maybe the hit didn’t land exactly dead on, because the Captain was already shifting his trajectory to minimize the damage, but it certainly got his entire attention.

Snap normally would have been yelling out suggestions and making additional side bets, but he found himself utterly riveted. Sure he barked out a laugh or cheered when one of them managed to pull off some ridiculous move, but he didn’t exactly have the words. This was ARC osik, or whatever version of that training the Guard had put together for itself. The kind of half-mad druk that would have had them digging latrines for the duration of the war if their commanding officers had ever caught them pulling such dini’la stunts mid-battle.

Except this wasn’t a battle, which was kind of the whole point. It was fun.

Ajax had somehow managed to rip off the Captain’s belt, for some karking reason. It had ended up tossed into the crowd and picked up by Weaver for safe keeping.

Snap wasn’t sure what the kriff Ajax’s plan had been, because that stunt had been both intentional and the source of his current limp. Seemed pretty stupid, just highly, uncharacteristically di’kutla to Snap, but whatever. All it had managed to do was made the Captain’s plackart hang a little awkwardly low. It wasn’t even affecting his movement noticeably.

Of course, the Captain had picked up a slight limp of his own from one of Ajax’s sharp punches which had actually managed to land more or less on target, and that was affecting his mobility at least a little.

Which was a kriff-ton more than Snap probably could have managed against either of them, so maybe he should withhold judgment.

Except then Ajax tried to tackle Captain Rex head on, which ended up earning him one haran of a slam to the mat, followed by a swift kick across the bucket, hard enough to break its magnetic seal and spinning it dangerously to the side, no doubt utterly karking his vision. So maybe Snap had seriously overestimated Ajax’s previous displays of intelligence and strategy.

But then Manx sucked in a sharp breath, drawing Snap’s attention back to the Captain, and holy kriffing kark! Was that a vibroblade hilt sticking out of the Captain’s ribs?

Kark. It was!

Granted, it wasn’t in all that deep, just kind of jammed in between the Captain’s hanging plackart and his cuirass. For just a moment, Captain Rex stood perfectly still, his arms frozen at his side like a statue. Then, one hand inched upward and grabbed the hilt, easing the powered down blade out from his side. The Captain gave the blade a brief inspection before dropping it on the floor. A thin trail of red ran down the Captain’s plackart, enough to make Snap wince, but the Captain’s visor remained unreadable. That is, until it snapped up towards Ajax, who had managed to roll further away and get up on one knee, but was still scrambling to either straighten up his helmet or tear it off.

Captain Rex took one step towards Ajax, but Panz stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand in the middle of his cuirass, scowling fit to strip armor paint. “Armor off, you’re both done.”

Snap booed.

He wasn’t the only one.

Except then one of the Mandalorians, a tall one in orange and midnight blue armor, took it one step further and walked into the ring, complaining loudly. The second, the absolute moment his hand touched Panz’s shoulder, the medic whipped around and drove a fist into the man’s throat, sending him staggering backwards with a rasping gasp.

“You’re done too,” Panz said, pointing a finger at the wheezing Mandalorian.

Captain Rex collared Cutter, who was in the process of taking violent offense with anyone laying a hand on a brother medic.

Not-Kryze and Krest ended up stopping a few of their people from doing something equally incendiary. Between the three of them, and Weaver, who’d helped a clearly concussed Ajax to his feet before laying into the closest troopers, they eventually got most everybody calmed down and chased out of the gym.

Maybe it was the promise that once the gym was fit for use again, they’d start a new bracket. And whoever won that could have another go at the Captain, assuming he wasn’t deployed somewhere off-base by then. And if he was, then Ajax would be around to do the honors instead.

Assuming the medics signed off on whatever additional injuries the two of them were clearly hiding under their armor.

Snap wasn’t too worried, there hadn’t been that much blood to mop up. And he would know, he’d ended up sticking around with Cutter, Boar, and two of the Mandalorians to put the room back into something resembling order. They’d all five been there to see when Ajax and Captain Rex finally had been escorted off to the infirmary by Panz and Fuse. They’d both been smiling.

Snap knew perfectly karking well that he didn’t stand a chance of making it to the finals, but after he erased the names from the board and redrew a blank bracket, he went ahead and added his name, not his number, to one of the empty slots.

AN: Previous chapters are available here.

Dividers by @freesia-writes using helmets by @lornaka. More designs available here.

I've been mentally restructuring a few things about this fic, so I have a question for you all if you're game. Do you prefer one long fic with distinct parts within it or multiple separate fics linked together as a series? I'm leaning towards option 2, but I thought I'd poll the audience. Thanks in advance.

#eidola tcw fanfic #star wars #tcw #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfic #tcw fanfic #clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars fanfic #original clone trooper #clone trooper oc #oc clone trooper #clone troopers

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stedefxckingbonnet · 6 months

Text

requests info/intro!

hi, everyone!

i thought i'd take a quick second to introduce myself and to also formally open up requests. i'm already working on a few things, but requests really do always help and feel free to submit them at any point--but, we'll get to all of that in a moment!

my name is lavinia, and i am a uni student studying both theatre (dramaturgy specifically) and creative writing! i love to sing, act, write (obviously haha), read (i am a huge fan of classic literature, as well as donna tartt, mona awad, sally rooney, elif bautman, and ottessa moshfegh's works), go to concerts, go to the movies, style/design clothing, paint, collect records/cds, and so much more! this barely scratches the surface really but, if any of you share these interests, always feel free to reach out!

anyhow, as i said, i will officially be opening requests, and at the moment here is the media and the characters i will write for:

Our Flag Means Death

Izzy Hands (my BELOVED)

Ed Teach

Stede Bonnet

Lucius Spriggs

Jim Jimenez

Oluwande

Mary Bonnet

(more available upon request! these were just sort of my first instincts.)

Gilmore Girls

honestly, i'm pretty open to anything unless it's dean. just request and i'll see what i can do!

Gossip Girl

Blair Waldorf

Serena Van der Woodsen

Dan Humphrey

Nate Archibald

Chuck Bass (like sometimes)

Rufus Humphrey

more available upon request.

The Fosters/The Good Trouble

Callie Adams Foster

Mariana Adams Foster

Brandon Foster

Jamie Hunter

Gael Martinez

Dennis Cooper

Malika Williams

more available upon request.

Select Wes Anderson and Tim Burton characters. just ask!

Enola Holmes

Tewkesbury

Sherlock Holmes

Little Women (2019)

Jo March

Amy March

Beth March

Meg March

Laurie

Friedrich Bhaer

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

Padmé Amidala

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Leia Organa

Kylo Ren

Finn

Poe Dameron

Ahsoka Tano

more available upon request!

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Basically me just saying I'll write Mr. Darcy. but more characters available upon request, of course.

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff and Britta I'm a little iffy on but with the right request, maybe. don't hesitate to ask!

The OC

Seth Cohen

Ryan Atwood

Summer Roberts

Marissa Cooper

The Umbrella Academy

Klaus

Viktor

Ben

Five

Diego

Allison

Luther is like, not preferred for me but if you feel strongly about him and have a good request, i’ll consider it but don’t get your hopes up too high!

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Neal Cassidy

August Booth

Jefferson (The Mad Hatter)

Mulan

Ruby Lucas (Red Riding Hood)

Belle French

Mary Margaret Blanchard (Snow White)

David Nolan (Prince Charming)

Peter Pan

Robin Hood

Any others, feel free to ask! I know I left Mr. Gold (Rumple) off, but that's only because it depends with each request. Also, please specify if you want it to take place in Storybrooke pre or post curse, or in The Enchanted Forest.

Merlin

Arthur

Gwen

Morgana

Nimueh

Lancelot

any others, feel free to ask. i am just starting S2, keep that in mind.

i'll just start there for now, as honestly it's been a bit since i've written an x reader and i don't want to overwhelm myself much! but please, feel free to request at any time! I will update this frequently, as I am always either getting into new things or remembering things I already love. I am mostly dedicated to OFMD right now, but you may also leave requests for other fandoms and I will keep them on file, or who knows, perhaps even get to them sooner than you may imagine! Have a wonderful day (or night!), and don't forget to request!

yours truly,

lavinia

me filing through all of your requests (hopefully!)

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clonewarsarchives · 2 years

Text

Clone Wars Features in Star Wars Insider

[see chronological list below cut]

Cast interview

#108 Double Trouble (Matt Lanter and Ashley Eckstein)

#110 Voice of the Force (Tom Kane)

#111 More than a Hobbie! (Corey Burton)

#112 The Voice Will Be With You, Always (James Arnold Taylor)

#115 The Journey of Barriss Offee (Meredith Salenger)

#116 Attack of the Clone (Dee Bradley Baker)

#116 The Perils of Padmé (Catherine Taber)

#117 The Duches and The Jedi (Anna Graves)

#117 Boba Fett is Back (Daniel Logan)

#122 The Sultry Sith (General + Nika Futterman)

#122 Master of Villaninous Voices (Corey Burton)

#123 Matt Lanter and the Rigors of Mortis!

#123 Coming of Age (Ashley Eckstein)

#123 It’s CAT versus JAT!

#125 Talking Tarkin (Stephen Stanton)

#129 Taylor Made (James Arnold Taylor)

#130 Super Trooper (Dee Bradley Baker)

#132 Back from the Depths! (Sam Witwer)

#199 Sam Witwer Unleashed!

#199 Ahsoka Lives! (Ashley Eckstein)

#201 The Animated Anakin (Matt Lanter)

Crew interview

Dave Filoni

#95 Fighting the Clone Wars (with Catherine Winder, producer)

#102 Directing the Troops & The Creator Strikes Back (George Lucas)

#104 Send in the Clones

#114 Bringing Back the Bounty

#115 Ready for Battle

#116 The Art of Mandalore

#117 The Unusual Suspects

#120 Third Wave

#121 Mythmakers (with George Lucas)

#125 Clone Ranger

#134 Behind and Beyond the Battle Lines

#140 Unexpected Journeys

Guest director/Animation director

#107 Creating Clones (Rob Coleman, director for 1.06-7)

#130 Animated Discussion (Keith Kellog, animation director)

#132 Notes from the Frontline (Walter Murch, director for 4.08)

#133 In Pursuit of Perfection (Duwayne Dunham, director for 3.11 & 4.01)

Sound/Music

#107 Sounding Out the Troops (David Acord, sound designer)

#117 Sound Affects (David Acord)

#116 Tales of a Sound Droid (Matthew Wood)

#111 Score de Force (Kevin Kiner, composer)

#126 Score Wars (Kevin Kiner)

Writer

#103 Cloak of Darkness (Henry Gilroy, Season 1)

#125 A Writer’s Tale (Katie Lucas, Nightsisters arc)

#126 The Write Stuff (Christian Taylor, Mortis arc)

Others

#108 Final Cut (Jason Tucker, editor)

#113 Second Strike (Cary Silver, producer)

#129 Producing Magic (Cary Silver)

#120 Back with a Bang (Joel Aron, CG Lighting and Effects Supervisor)

#124 Making Maquettes (Darren Marshall, concept artist)

#134 Darth Maul Death Sentence comics interview

#137 Cast & Crew Q&A

Short Story

#136 Reputation (Cad Bane)

#139 Speaking SIlently (Captain Rex)

#144 Hondo Ohnaka’s Not-So-Big Score

#159 Kindred Spirits (Asajj Ventress, prequel to Dark Disciple)

General/Meta articles

#118 Rise of the Bounty Hunters (Season 2 trivia)

#132 Rogues Gallery - Bounty Hunters from 4.17 The Box

#139 Rogues Gallery - Ahsoka’s younglings

#142 The Show that Changed Star Wars

#159 Asajj Ventress: A-typical Anti-Hero

#160 Ahsoka Tano: A Hero of Our Time

#179 Mortis: Planet of the Force

#195 The Comeback Clones (character profiles)

Episode Guide

#106 Cover + S1.01-10 Episode Guide

#125 50 Great Reasons to Rewatch Season Three

#134 10 Amazing Moments from Season Four

#136 S4 DVD highlights

#139 100 and Counting!

#200 Season 7 episode guide

in Chronological order

#95 Fighting the Clone Wars (Dave Filoni and Catherine Winder)

#102 The Creator Strikes Back (George Lucas) & Directing the Troops (Dave Filoni)

#103 Cloak of Darkness (Henry Gilroy, series writer)

#104 Send in the Clones (Dave Filoni)

#106 Cover + S1.01-10 Episode Guide

#107 Creating Clones (Rob Coleman, animation director)

#107 Sounding Out the Troops (David Acord, sound designer)

#108 Double Trouble (Matt Lanter and Ashley Eckstein)

#108 Final Cut (Jason Tucker, editor)

#110 Voice of the Force (Tom Kane)

#111 More than a Hobbie! (Corey Burton)

#111 Score de Force (Kevin Kiner, composer)

#112 The Force Will Be With You, Always (James Arnold Taylor)

#113 Second Strike (Cary Silver, producer)

#114 Bringing Back the Bounty (Dave Filoni)

#115 Ready for Battle (Dave Filoni)

#115 The Journey of Barriss Offee (Meredith Salenger)

#116 Attack of the Clone (Dee Bradley Baker)

#116 The Perils of Padmé (Catherine Taber)

#116 Tales of a Sound Droid (Matthew Wood)

#116 The Art of Mandalore (Dave Filoni)

#117 Sound Affects (David Acord, sound designer)

#117 The Duches and The Jedi (Anna Graves)

#117 Boba Fett is Back (Daniel Logan)

#117 The Unusual Suspects (bounty hunter lineup)

#118 Rise of the Bounty Hunters (Season 2 trivia)

#120 Third Wave (Dave Filoni)

#120 Back with a Bang (Joel Aron)

#121 Mythmakers (Dave Filoni and George Lucas)

#122 The Sultry Sith (General + Nika Futterman)

#122 Master of Villaninous Voices (Corey Burton)

#123 Matt Lanter and the Rigors of Mortis

#123 Coming of Age (Ashley Eckstein)

#123 It’s CAT versus JAT (Catherine Taber and James Arnold Taylor)

#124 Making Maquettes (Darren Marshall)

#125 Clone Ranger (Dave Filoni)

#125 A Writer’s Tale (Katie Lucas, screenwriter)

#125 Talking Tarkin (Stephen Stanton)

#125 50 Great Reasons to Rewatch Season Three (EPG)

#126 The Write Stuff (Christian Taylor, screenwriter)

#126 Score Wars (Kevin Kiner)

#129 Taylor Made (James Arnold Taylor)

#129 Producing Magic (Cary Silver)

#130 Super Trooper (Dee Bradley Baker)

#130 Animated Discussion (Keith Kellog, animation director)

#132 Back from the Depths! (Sam Witwer)

#132 Notes from the Frontline (Walter Murch, director for 4.08)

#132 Rogues Gallery - Bounty Hunters from 4.17 The Box

#133 In Pursuit of Perfection (Duwayne Dunham, director for 3.11 & 4.01)

#134 Behind and Beyond the Battle Lines (Dave Filoni)

#134 Darth Maul Death Sentence comics interview

#134 10 Amazing Moments from Season Four (EPG)

#136 S4 DVD highlights (EPG)

#136 Reputation (Cad Bane, short story)

#137 Cast & Crew Q&A

#139 Rogues Gallery - Ahsoka’s younglings

#139 100 and Counting! (EPG)

#139 Speaking SIlently (Captain Rex, short story)

#140 Unexpected Journeys (Dave Filoni)

#142 The Show that Changed Star Wars (General)

#144 Hondo Ohnaka’s Not-So-Big Score (short story)

#159 Asajj Ventress: A-typical Anti-Hero (General)

#159 Kindred Spirits (Asajj Ventress, short story prequel to Dark Disciple)

#160 Ahsoka Tano: A Hero of Our Time (General)

#179 Mortis: Planet of the Force (General)

#195 The Comeback Clones (General character profiles)

#199 Sam Witwer Unleashed!

#199 Ahsoka Lives! (Ashley Eckstein)

#200 Season 7 summary (EPG)

#201 The Animated Anakin (Matt Lanter)

#insider #masterpost

79 notes · View notes

sinisterexaggerator · 2 years

Text

Masterlist - (NSFW 18+)

Multi-chapter:

Stars Above!

Ao3 link | Tumblr Masterpost | Zulara

Cad Bane x OC (Smut / Porn with Plot / Character Study / Sexual repression / inexperience turns into a sex addiction.)

Summary: Zulara Anu Trattu, an alluring Twi’lek-Human hybrid, was handed off into slavery by her alcoholic father; he lost a game of sabacc to the owner of Kayson’s Weapons shop located on Tatooine. Rather than pay his debt - his home and his entire fortune - his daughter is relinquished and taken from her native home of Lothal to Mos Eisley by her new master, an alien, adept at obtaining weapons on the black market, one who offers contraband to trusted customers; those who want to fight to protect themselves as a new Empire rises to power. A fascist galactic dictatorship has replaced democracy, the senate, and the Jedi are nowhere to be found.

Cad Bane is on the hunt - he’s been offered a job by Tour Aryon, the Imperial Governor of the desert planet – figure out who's been selling weapons to would-be rebels; remaining groups of Separatists, straight out of Mos Eisley. He has a hunch, but Kayson would never risk himself, his reputable business . He has another to do it for him - a certain someone - and she has the most luscious lips, the widest hips …

He’s seen her dance, smelled her pheromones, and watched her work diligently for her employer. One thing’s for sure: things aren't always as they seem.

***

Beauty and the Bounty Hunter

Ao3 link | Tumblr Masterpost

Cad Bane x Second-person POV / OC (Smut / Humor.)

Summary: You are Aurora Ordel: the pinnacle of femininity gone wrong. Smart, sexy, but with a sassy mouth. Hailing from Corellia, you live on Coruscant at your career’s behest. You are a “Chief Design Engineer” for The Galactic Empire; inventor of the Onager-Class Star Destroyer - this super weapon is your pride and joy.

Your employer is Palpatine; you answer to Darth Vader; and Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin is always barking up your skirt.

You are also beauty who has met with beast – a surly, ill-tempered bounty hunter who you like to swap spit with. Your problem? Everyone’s out to kill you for being such a kriffing witch, and on top of that, you’re addicted to that Duros dick. Your solution? Make Cad Bane your (on call) bitch.

*Inspired by an anonymous reader request and dedicated to my Duros hoes. “There’s no shame in it.”

***

I’m so glad you’re not dead

Ao3 link | Tumblr Masterpost

Cad Bane x Ahsoka Tano (Smut / Humor / Cad Bane is “infatuated" by one of the very last "Jedi.")

Summary: Ahsoka Tano encounters Cad Bane on the planet Daiyu while gathering intel for the Rebel Alliance. She is in her 30s now, and Cad Bane is an “old man.”

THIS IS A CRACK FIC. IT’S DUMB AS HELL. It has now become a multi-chapter fic by accident, and also, the crack may turn serious, also by accident. Whoops.

One shots:

The Interrogation

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane x F! Reader (Smut / DP in vagina sex - Cad Bane has two dicks.)

Summary: You have been captured by Cad Bane, though he is not after you. You have information that he seeks, yet you are shy. Perhaps there is a way he can persuade you to squeal, albeit one that is a bit unorthodox.

***

Size Matters

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane x F! Reader (Smut / Size kink / Voice Kink.)

Summary: Extensive fingers, long-reaching, your fantasies brought to life on the vertex and crooks of their multi-jointed lengths. Blue flesh, cold and smooth with a faint roughness that paralyzes you when they caress your human skin. Marks are left in the form of horripilation, the bristling of micro hairs on your aching body, as you pine for the hunter’s patented ministrations. Cruel, while at the same time tantalizing, stimulating your already sultry sex, dampened to the deepest, darkest depths that he can fathom.

***

The Code

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane x F! Reader (Smut / Mildly Dubious Consent.)

Summary: You're a naïve bounty hunter, trying to earn a name for yourself, but you don't know anything about your new profession or its Code of Honor. You piss another hunter off by stealing his quarry; he sends you on a wild goose chase with the premise Cad Bane is an old man, retired, and it's time he paid his dues.

You realize too late he's no easy target, and he's out to teach you a lesson or two you won't soon forget.

***

Damn you, Fennec Shand!

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane x F! Reader (Smut / Mildly Dubious Consent / Sickfic.)

Summary: It had taken Cad Bane two days to get his ship into the air, whereas Todo 360 had failed to make appropriate repairs. The Justifier is going down over an icy planet, and you are one of its few residents. The Duros is in bad shape by the time you find him; it's getting darker; there is a storm brewing in the distance. Todo begs you not to let his Master die - you have a choice to make.

*This story takes place after the episode of Bad Batch entitled “ Bounty Lost” where Fennec Shand sabotages Cad Bane’s ship and leaves him stranded on Bora Vio. By the way he holds himself, it is evident he is injured. Well, I fuck him up even more.

***

The Existential Crisis of an Elder Duros; or, “Had too much to drink.”

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane alone with his own dark thoughts.

Summary: World-weary. No. Galaxy-weary. That’s a word you might put to it. The overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of just being over it.

***

Trigger Happy

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane masturbates / Cad Bane x Fem! Reader (Involves fantasy scenarios.)

Summary: Cad Bane is alone on his ship in the darkness of deep space. He lets his mind wander to that soft mammalian skin, so warm and inviting. How easy it would be to bite and mark with his teeth...

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Patience is a Virtue

Ao3 link | Tumblr post

Cad Bane x Male Reader (Smut/Mildly dubious.)

Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold, by a cold-blooded, cold-hearted killer named Cad Bane. You hire him in hopes of seeking retribution on your crooked partner who is a crook, and you are too, dealing in priceless artifacts. The trail’s gone nearly cold as well, and the hunter’s getting restless; you promised him five-hundred-thousand credits, but you find yourself offering up something else to sate his appetite: yourself.

Ficlets (Fem!/ GN X Readers / Misc.): * Contains Smut

The lil’ lady’s house - Fluff.

The green-eyed monster - Cad is jealous of Hondo Ohnaka.

Daimyo Bane - Cad Bane is the Daimyo of Tatooine (AU).

The Storm - Gn! Cad Bane tries to comfort you / fluff.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub, Cad Bane's in a tub - Reader gives Cad a bath to help him slough off his dry scales.

Don’t bite Bane - Reader bites Bane and experiences his reaction. *

More than you can chew - Reader cockwarms Bane (first entry). *

Lemmie see - Gn! Fluff / “caretaking” when you cut your finger.

Smile - Gn! You give Cad Bane a compliment on his smile / fluff.

Only good girls get seconds - Fluff and a kiss. You try to steal Bane's toothpick.

sick till I see you - Gn! Cad Bane has had a tough time of it. He comes to you for a little TLC / fluff.

An Unlikely Muse - Gn! reader. You are an artist with an artist's block until Cad Bane comes to call. *

Headcanons:

Cad Bane Part 1

Cad Bane Part 2

Cad Bane Part 3

Cad Bane Part 4

Old man Bane has the horny

How does Cad Bane treat you if he loves you?

How does Cad Bane feel about marriage?

What kinds of things make Cad Bane happy?

Spiran caf

Only work as hard as you have to

My explanation of Cad Bane’s breathing apparatus.

Cad Bane's accent and voice modulation

Armorweave

Freelancer

Bane's scars

Bane’s favorite color :)

Jango Fett x Cad Bane, and its connection to Todo

Banaka / OPT

Love letters / Handwriting headcanon

Love bites and Banaka / blood bonds.

Loss of "virginity" and Duros anatomy discussion.

Duros sexuality

Duros dick

Extras:

Cad Bane Speech Patterns:

Cad Bane’s Arsenal:

Padawan Killer

Code of Honor

Reptilian?

Cad Bane mentored Boba Fett

Did Cad Bane work for the Ohnaka gang?!

Cad Bane and Hondo Ohnaka were friends.

Best Bounty Hunter

Bane's a sentimental bastard.

Cad Bane is complicated.

Gateway Duros

Jedi Path mention

Death / birth

Language is fun!

Todo 360

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Return to the Main Masterlist

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x You #Cad Bane x Reader #Star Wars #Duros #Star Wars Smut #Masterlist #x you #x reader #original female characters #fanfiction #Todo 360 #Headcanons #Clone Wars #Bad Batch #Book of Boba Fett #Anonymous Ask #Reader Requests #Star Wars Fanfiction

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burnwater13 · 1 year

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Finally! Someone had told the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter his name. Grogu. That’s right. Grogu. It was a name. Like Ahsoka was a name or Djarin was a name or Peli was a name.

It’s not like Grogu had picked it for himself. He hadn’t. It was just the name he was called at the Jedi Temple. He didn’t know why they had called him that or who had named him. No one he knew admitted to being the one who did that.

But if you said it out loud, he would turn his head and ask ‘What?’. It got his attention. That’s what names were for, right? To get your attention. When Din Djarin finally said Grogu’s name, ‘Grogu?’, Grogu had been surprised and grateful and had paid attention to the Mandalorian. Which, as it turned out, was just what Din Djarin had wanted.

Yup, the Mandalorian liked that power. The ability to say a word and capture Grogu’s complete attention. There weren’t many other ways to do that to people. The Mandalorian had found ‘Hey, kid’ less than satisfactory because Grogu always assumed Din Djarin had been talking to someone else.

But now that he knew Grogu’s name, just who was being summoned, or scolded, or teased was no longer a mystery. It was the owner of that name, Grogu.

Even the Imps and their collaborators didn’t know his name. They were the ones who called him ‘The Child’, like that was going to be specific enough. Although, who knows, maybe in Gal Basic ‘The Child’ meant ‘little green guy who could use the Force but wouldn’t unless he really liked you or really disliked you’. Gal Basic was strange that way.

The other strange thing was that lots of people seemed to have more than one name. After all, the Mandalorian wasn’t just Din or Djarin. Nope. He was both. Din Djarin. Like Peli was Peli Motto and Ahsoka was Ahsoka Tano. Even the Imps had two names, like Moff Gideon or Stormtrooper FN-2187.

Grogu wondered why that happened. Did people just decide on a second name? Did their parents decide? Was it a governmental action? He could see the Empire really liking the ability to make people carry a name of their choosing, you know, since names had power.

Look at all the Darths for example. Darth Sidious. Darth Vader. Darth Maul. Darth Tyranus. Darth Bane, who started the whole thing. They weren’t brothers, or children, or family. So the name didn’t tell you anything about them really, except to cross the street if you heard anyone say ‘Uh, oh! Here comes Darth [insert name here]!’ It was about the power.

Grogu wondered if he actually needed to learn to speak in Gal Basic now. Just to balance the power out with the Mandalorian. It seemed like the thing to do. If he could say Din or Djarin or Mando… he just might get the tall guy’s attention when he actually wanted it. That would definitely change their working dynamic.

“Din, want frogs!”

“Djarin, want sleep.”

“Hey Mando when are we going to visit Greef Karga again? I miss IG-11!”

He could just imagine the Mandalorian’s face if he learned how to say any of that stuff. He had to imagine it since Din Djarin, Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, was wearing his helmet all the time again. Which reminded Grogu that he didn’t know the Armorer’s name. Did she even have one? Or was ‘Armorer’ like ‘Grogu’? Just a singular name that covered the whole territory of the person? Maybe.

In which case, maybe Grogu meant something like Armorer did. It was a job. Or a skill set. Perhaps he was called Grogu because he was strong with the Force? Then anyone else strong with the Force would be called Grogu… nope. That didn’t work. Lots of other people had been strong with the Force without being called ‘Grogu’.

It was also possible that the Jedi had run out of other names for their younglings and had called him Grogu because it was the last name left. He’d never heard of there being two Jedi with the same name. No Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, one and Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, two. Or prime, or whatever other designator would be needed to prevent confusion.

Now he wondered how that worked across the galaxy. There were a lot of people. Did folks just have letters and a bunch of numbers appended to them so you would know the difference? That didn’t even seem real.

Nope. Grogu liked his name and would keep it. Maybe someday he would be known as Grogu Mando, because he was a Mandalorian now. But until then, Grogu was just fine.

#the mandalorian #grogu #din darjin #calendar prompt a day

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saggitary · 1 year

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I posted 182 times in 2022

That's 182 more posts than 2021!

40 posts created (22%)

142 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hannah-schooler

@sees-writes

@muguathepapaya

@kote-wan

@trashbrain2000

I tagged 121 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#the clone wars - 58 posts

#ahsoka tano - 47 posts

#captain rex - 35 posts

#clone wars - 26 posts

#sag’s stuff - 25 posts

#clone troopers - 21 posts

#arc trooper echo - 20 posts

#clone wars headcanons - 19 posts

#arc trooper fives - 17 posts

#tales of the jedi - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#like anakin carries newly de-aged ahsoka onto the resolute and every clone in a 1mile radius goes

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok I don’t know what it is, but Howzer looks so much like Rex. I know you probably are all like ‘well no shit they are clones’ but if u look at like Rex and Fives side by side THEY BARELY LOOK ALIKE. Same with Rex and Jesse and everyone else, but u put Howzer and Rex next to each other and they look so alike. Like I’ll see edits and the top bit of Howzer gorgeous hair is cut off so u just see the buzzed sides and I have to do a double take because for a second I think it’s Rex.

These are all from the Umbara arc so they all have the same design model (Rex, Fives, Jesse, Hardcase)

See the full post

346 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

I think it’s hilarious that we are all in agreement that the CC batch of Cody, Wolffe, Bly, Fox, and Ponds adopted Rex because his old batch was a bunch of assholes

367 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

Clone Wars Headcannons

All over the place but yeah enjoy

Ahsoka will let her men test out pick up lines before shore leave and give them tips on how to better pick up girls

Ahsoka picked up her eye rolling habit from Wolffe

Fives and Echo refer to Rex as “oh captain my captain” (Rex is very annoyed)

Clone troopers sleep better when they cuddle up with someone

Anakin has given Ahsoka and many of his men heart attacks when he randomly removes his prosthetic hand

There are painted line of the Resolutes floor near the medical bays to mark how far troopers have made it when they attempt to escape the medics

This usually ends with the medics full body tackling their vod and occasionally their Jedi

Hardcase has the furthest mark with Fives very near behind him

Much to Wolffe’s dismay young animals love to imprint of him during campaigns, he says he hates it but Sinker once saw Wolffe carrying around a baby loth cat wrapped in one of his blankets

Rex is a natural blonde due to a mutation and I will die on this hill

Fox and Wolffe have the highest spice tolerance of their batch and their brothers are very concerned for them

Based on the scene in the Umbara arc where Tup is hanging onto the gunship handle with 2 hands, he is a very nervous flier

Ahsoka noticed that Tup was a nervous flier and now tries to get on the same ships as him to help keep him calm

The 501st has different tallies up throughout the barracks for random things like ‘how many times the general loses his lightsaber’, ‘best quotes for the week’, etc

Clone troopers speak mando’a, kaminoan, and basic fluently

Rex always wins arm wrestling contests, even against Anakin

Ahsoka learned how to play sabacc from the Wolf Pack and has been banned from playing in most 501st circles because she always wins

The CCs have the ability to sleep with their eyes open and Wolffe and Fox actively chose to do so to creep everyone else out

Cody has broken his wrists and his shins from fist fighting droids but he continues to do it

Many troopers in the 501st have also attempted to fist fight droids but quickly stopped when the medics refused to treat them

Anakin has also attempted to fist fight droids and damaged his cybernetic hand enough that he had to get a new one

Ahsoka purrs when she sleeps close to other people

Hardcase almost cried when he first heard Ahsoka purr because he thought it was cutest damn thing

Capture the flag is the 501st’s favorite down time activity

Cody has hidden drugs in Obi-Wan’s tea to make him sleep which Obi-Wan was rather offended by but continued to accept all tea given to him by his commander

Ahsoka set up a projector in the rec room and on hyper space trips she plays holomovies so her men can be ‘cultured’

Ahsoka is good friends with Padme and Riyo Chuchi and regularly gets together with them for girls nights

Rex has gotten a tattoo while drunk but Cody is the only one that knows about it

See the full post

487 notes - Posted December 6, 2022

Ahsoka and the 501st Headcannons

- Ahsoka is known for going to the barracks to comfort troopers after a campaign. She will sit with them for hours and listen to them and offer a shoulder to cry on. It’s not uncommon to find a group of shinies huddled around her on the floor

- Speaking of shinies, some of them (esp when Ahsoka was still pretty small) they’d hug onto her like she was a stuffed toy, and she didn’t mind at all. If it made her trooper feel better then she would do so happily

- If a trooper finds something cool on a campaign, like a pretty rock or a flower, they will give it to her and she keeps all the little gifts they give her

- She has lets some of Torrent play around with her sabers, and even taught Fives some of the basic lightsaber stances so they could mock duel

- Ahsoka knows what kind of music each trooper likes and will share songs she finds that she thinks they will like with them. She also was able to barter for a portable speaker that they could keep in the barracks or rec room

- She and Fives started a prank war that eventually involved all of the 501st and the 212th

- Echo helps Ahsoka study because he’s actually enjoys reading��‘boring’ stuff. Jedi temple work is actually a lot more interesting than REG manuals

- It started with Jesse, but one day while he was bored in the rec room, he asked Ahsoka (who was doing course work) if he could try to do a push up with her sitting on him (like in some of the holovideos he’s seen). She says yes. Rex walks in to see Jesse doing pushups while Ahsoka is typing out an essay on his back

- Pretty soon there is a competition between the veterans in the 501st on who can do the most pushups with Ahsoka sitting on them. Hardcase held the record until Rex stepped in and beat him by double

- There is an ongoing debate on how tall Ahsoka is, she argues that you measure from the tips of her montrals, her men argue its the top of her forehead.

- “Why would you measure from my forehead my mortals are literally attached to my head, the ARE the top of my head!” “even if we measured from your montrals, you still short as kriff.”

- Because Togruta don’t have hair, she is fascinated by it. Originally she only messed with Anakin’s hair but soon her men started letting her touch their hair was well. She would sit there playing with it for hours if they would let her (and many times they did because it feels good)

- They began teaching her some sayings in Manda’o and in return she taught them a few things in Togruti

- they all complain whenever they have to fly with her, but in reality they prefer her flying to their generals (and she is actually a very good flyer but they would never admit that)

- If Ahsoka hears someone insult her or say anything inappropriate about her, she ignores it, you say something about one of her troopers, she will not hesitate to jump them (Rex has had to haul her away from many brawls)

- If the troopers hear someone insult them they ignore it, if someone catcalls or insults their commander that person better pray to whatever god they believe in because they are about to meet their maker

- Ahsoka and Anakin started a karaoke tradition with the 501st but it stopped after Ahsoka left the order

- After Ahsoka left the order the clones still found themselves picking up small gifts on campaigns, and some chose to keep them with them in case Ahsoka ever came back

571 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I see your “Ahsoka Tano gets de-aged and Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Plo enter dad mode” and I raise you:

Ahsoka Tano gets de-aged and battle tested, top strategist and captain of the 501st Rex, melts and enters ultimate ori’vod mode as soon as he sees his commander tiny. The 501st as a whole fights over who gets to carry her around the ship and Anakin watches his extremely competent and experienced battalion fall to pieces as soon as they see baby Ahsoka.

Marshall Commander Cody aka the ori’vod of half the GAR let’s baby Ahsoka sit in his lap as he does reports and carries her to meetings. The 212th take turns escorting the tiny commander to the med bay to be checked up on (because god knows how many diseases they come into contact with as they travel around the galaxy). Obi-Wan watches one of the best legions in the GAR fall prey again and again to his grandpadawan’s tooka eyes.

All of this only happens if they can pry Ahsoka from the 104th. Wolffe refuses to let Ahsoka out if his sight when she is with them, usually resorting to carrying her everywhere. Rarely has anybody seen Ahsoka not being carried, either on the shoulders or in the arms, of Commander Wolffe. Those in the 104th that had known Ahsoka before she became Anakin’s student and the commander of the 501st don’t trust her well-being with their other brothers. It’s not that they doubt their brothers’ with Ahsoka, it’s just that they feel much better when she is safe with them. Completely normal. Plo watches his serious and battle hardened battalion soften as soon as they get their hands on baby Ahsoka.

I raise you, the clone troopers born from Jango Fett’s DNA, a mandalorian through and through, see a child and immediately adopt it.

1,253 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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fangirlingindefinitely · 2 years

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Ahsoka Tano series Part 3. I really like her and so I keep drawing her. That’s it. Part 2 linked below.

Image Description: This is a fanart of Ahsoka Tano in her Clone Wars season 7 outfit (longer montrals and headtails, blue tunic, grey armor, blue lightsabers). She is visible from about hip up, and is holding her lightsabers, one of which is visible. Her expression is determined and fierce. In the background, there is a stylized sun with a combination of straight and swirly rays extending from it. The sun is behind Ahsoka’s head. The sun and it’s rays are varying shades of orange and yellow. End of Image Description.

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awesome-art-by-choolee · 2 years

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Making a digital concept vs hand-painting... So here's the story: A wonderful client requested hand-painted fan art of Star Wars' Ahsoka Tano and her 3 trooper clone buddies. I've always hated using gouache and acrylic, but many illustrators swear by them for vivid, opaque colors. So after designing a concept digitally, I gave these paints a second chance. Still not a fan. 😝 Digital tools are so much faster, more flexible, and less messy! Granted, traditional paints still hold their charms. But due to the extra time and mess, —and lack of an UNDO BUTTON— from now on I will no longer be accepting commissions for hand-painted originals. I'm also reducing my intake of portrait commissions, and focusing mostly on murals and character design. What do you guys think of this plan? 😮 Any ideas or advice? #starwars #ahsokatano #starwarsfanart #gouachepainting #digitalpainting #illustration #comicart #femaleheroes #clonewars #lightsaber #cintiq #photoshop https://www.instagram.com/p/CfKvNxet-La/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#starwars #ahsokatano #starwarsfanart #gouachepainting #digitalpainting #illustration #comicart #femaleheroes #clonewars #lightsaber #cintiq #photoshop

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jedi-qui-gon · 5 months

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Happy Tano Tuesday!

My favorite version of Ahsoka Tano-

Love Ahsoka’s design in Star Wars: Rebels. And her outfit in the series is my favorite one. Second would be the one from Star Wars the Clone Wars Season 7 during the Siege of Mandalore.

#Ahsoka #Ahsoka Tano #Tano Tuesday

0 notes

weyrwolfen · 6 months

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Eidola: Chapter 17 - CT-25-9102 Sketch

Rating: T

Characters: Gen, Clone Trooper OCs, Captain Rex, Ahsoka Tano, and other canon members of the 501st/332nd

Warnings: canon-typical violence; references to self-harm, injuries, and substance abuse; PTSD; it’s post-Order 66 and nobody is having a good time (but they’re all working on it)

“Sketch! Sketch!”

Sketch, who’d been walking down the Scythe’s ramp, overfilled rucksack dragging at his sore shoulders, looked up to see Pry running full-tilt across the hanger bay, grinning like a loon. The other Reapers had stopped whatever they were doing to watch Pry’s progress, no doubt wondering what all the fuss was about.

“What?” Sketch called back, nudging the brother in front of him, Knots, to try to get him to start moving again.

“The bacta everybody brought back from Wadj was enough,” Pry gasped as he skidded to a stop at the edge of the ramp, panting like he’d just outrun a pack of commando droids. “The Captain’s lifting the rationing.”

Oh! Well, maybe that was news worth sprinting across base to deliver. “Does Canvas know?” Sketch asked, grinning wide enough to match Pry’s ebullient expression.

“He’s taken over one of the empty bunks. Come on!”

“I thought they were blue.”

“They were, but they were green before that.”

“How does that even work?”

“No idea. Some kind of Force osik.”

“What’re you thinking about getting?” That last question came from Pry, distractingly close to Sketch’s ear.

Sketch looked up from his flimsipad and found Pry peeking over his shoulder. They were both sitting on the floor, outside of the room Canvas had commandeered. It was in the section of the residential floors that had been given over to natborns and brothers with natborn families, but most all of them had already shipped out to Wadj, leaving the smaller, private rooms temporarily unclaimed. Sketch assumed that wouldn’t last for long, not with all the new Mandos arriving on base, but for now, this part of the base should be safe enough. Besides, Weaver had apparently signed off on the whole thing, so it wasn’t like anyone with any authority was going to come tell them they had to move.

Nano was inside with Canvas now, which meant that it was Sketch’s turn next. He had a lot of ideas, designs he’d been working on for ages, but he needed to choose one. Just one, to start. The rest could come later.

The brothers behind Sketch and Pry in line – Midge, Rancor, Vista, and a freshly cleared brother from the latest rescued batch whose name Sketch hadn’t caught quite yet – kept up their conversation in the background.

Sketch was only half-listening, letting their words wash over him, but Pry was still waiting for an answer, so he finally admitted, “I’m having some trouble deciding.”

“I heard Vader did it. Changed them,” the conversation continued, further down the hall.

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah. I mean, he wasn’t Vader then. It was before.”

“Huh. That’s karked up.”

“Understatement.”

Pry was eyeing the page in Sketch’s book. “That one would be pretty wizard,” he said, pointing at one of the smaller doodles in the lower, lefthand corner of the page. It was a drawing of a chipped stone knife, cutting edge crude and scalloped, with a handle wrapped in intricately-knotted cording.

In the second year of the war, Sketch had been stationed on a moon so remote it didn’t even have a formal name, just a number. XR-33-419 had been pretty boring, in all honesty. They’d been tasked with guarding a small base with a stockpile of supplies nobody had seemed interested in either deploying or stealing. It had been nice at first. He could draw whenever he wanted, and nobody was actively shooting at him, but after a while, the boredom had started getting to him.

Their CO, Sergeant Ellis, had been stationed there since the beginning of the war. Nobody knew who he’d pissed off, to get stuck with such a jerkwater assignment for so long. Sketch had liked him well enough, but he had to admit that their CO had come across as more than a little weird. The Sergeant had cultivated all sorts of obscure hobbies he’d picked up from watching holonet videos on a contraband datapad.

One of them was chipping primitive stone tools out of the surrounding volcanic rocks. Sketch hadn’t really seen the appeal at first, but after a while, he’d gotten bored enough with endless, uneventful patrols to give it a try. He’d never quite gotten the hang of it. The Sergeant had never stopped trying to teach Sketch, had actually been way more patient than Sketch himself had been, the couple of times brothers had asked him to teach them how to draw.

In the end, Sergeant Ellis had ended up making so many blades during those doomed demonstrations that he’d started handing them out to the other brothers on base. Sketch had carried his for the rest of the war, even after he’d been transferred back into a front-line battalion. It had even gotten him out of a tight spot once, when he’d been grabbed by one of the giant, semi-sentient plants on Felucia. Apparently, if you knew how to work it correctly, natural volcanic glass could be pretty kriffing sharp.

Force only knew where that knife was now. He had no memory of what he’d done with it, once his chip had activated. Probably chucked it in a trash receptacle somewhere, seeing as how it had been decidedly non-regulation.

He also didn’t know what had happened to Sergeant Ellis. He’d asked some of his brothers in the control center to check, but they’d never found anything. The designation number he’d known had been attached to a brother who’d died at the First Battle of Geonosis.

Maybe Sketch had remembered the number wrong.

Maybe the Sergeant was still stationed on XR-33-419, making his rock knives, except apparently Sketch had remembered the moon’s stupid designation incorrectly too. They couldn’t find any record of the place.

Maybe Sketch had knocked more than a few screws loose, during the chip or after. Maybe none of that had ever happened.

Kriff, he was going to have to sit down and chat with Sling again, wasn’t he?

“Yeah,” he’d said to Pry noncommittally, not wanting to talk about it. He flipped to the next page in his book.

Their brothers continued their conversation, which seemed to be annoying Pry, assuming Sketch was interpreting the glower his brother threw over his shoulder correctly. “So, now they’re green again.”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, but why are they green?”

“Maybe she changed them back?”

“How does that even work?”

“I don’t know. Whatever he did to them, but in reverse?”

“I’m going to get Commander Tano’s markings on my shoulder,” Pry finally said, turning his attention back to Sketch’s book. Some of the art wasn’t really appropriate for Canvas to use, detailed studies of ships or buildings or people Sketch had seen, so he flipped past those pages quickly. “Maybe in 44th silver? I think Canvas said the machine they found can do the fancy metallic stuff.”

Pry’s plan wasn’t exactly surprising, especially now that the Commander had given everyone her blessing to use her markings as a semi-official symbol of their operation. Or at least that was what Jesse had said on the flight back from Wadj.

Sketch had come up with a couple of designs incorporating her mirrored marks too, but he wasn’t happy with any of them just yet. It felt wrong, to only credit her for their work here and not the Captain, but referencing Rex was a little harder to pin down, graphically speaking. There were his jaig eyes, of course, but those had a kind of cultural weight Sketch wasn’t comfortable claiming for his own. Not without doing something to actually earn them. He’d been playing around with incorporating a pair of DC-17s, but it was all very much a work in progress.

But Pry’s comment about metallic inks did give him an idea. Sketch turned a couple more pages, looking for another half-completed design he’d been playing with, off and on, for weeks.

It didn’t take long to find it: a pair of crossed scythes, shorter-bladed and longer-handled than the purely agricultural variant. He’d first seen them on the belts of some local farmers on a few of the Mid-Rim agriworlds. That style of blade had apparently worked just as well on grain as pirates, and Sketch had figured they’d make just about the perfect symbol for the Reapers.

He’d only mentioned it to a couple of the others, but they’d all like it. Feathers had been enthusiastic enough that he’d insisted on renaming their ship. Sketch was supposed to float the design past Jesse and Ridge for approval, whenever he got around to finishing it.

He hadn’t realized they’d be able to get metallic tattoos. It got him thinking about the design again.

Maybe if he added a couple mirrored slashes, near where the handles crossed. That would be kind of reminiscent of the Captain’s jaig eyes without actually being them, and adding in the top half of the commander’s markings above that sort of filled in the visual dead space nicely. Oh, and he could continue her paired lines below the crossed scythes too. Now that was an idea…

The door next to Sketch swished open and Nano stepped out, a bacta patch peeking out from under the high collar of his blacks on the side of his neck. “You’re up,” he said, smiling down at Sketch, who was still sitting on the floor.

Osik! Maybe he’d have time to rough out the design for Canvas? He’d heard something about sanitizing the equipment in between uses. Or maybe he should just stick with one of his other designs, so he could finish working up this one?

“What does it feel like?” Pry asked while Sketch started to push himself to his feet, turning the question around and around in his head.

“It tingled some,” Nano admitted, starting to reach up to maybe rub at his neck, but he arrested the gesture before he’d actually made contact. “The improvised stuff we had on the Fearless used needles instead of lasers and stung a whole lot more.”

That was interesting. In the privacy of his own mind, Sketch could confess that he hadn’t realized there would be a difference. He bent over to pick up his helmet.

“Quartz said they used to be two different greens. Like, regular green and kind of yellow green.”

“Shouldn’t they have matched? I thought the colors meant something. You know, like spiritually.”

“I don’t think they do.”

“I mean, red means something pretty kriffing specific.”

“Yeah, okay fair. But I think that’s an exception.”

“Sith-flavored Force osik.”

“Exactly.”

“I swear some of the 91st said purple meant something about balance.”

“She got new crystals,” Pry said loudly, interrupting the ongoing debate which had continued, unabated, further down the line in the hallway. “She went into that Force temple and brought out a big chunk of kyber. So did everyone else on that–”

Sketch, who’d actually heard all of that straight from Jesse, didn’t stick around to listen to the rest. He just stepped into Canvas’s improvised studio and let the door whisk shut behind him, muffling the rest of Pry’s lecture.

Canvas looked up from whatever he’d been doing to the device in his hands, the intricate, geometric lines of his own facial tattoos crinkling at the corners of both eyes. “Got a design ready for me?”

“Uh, more like too many designs, and I’m leaning towards one I haven’t even finished,” Sketch admitted awkwardly.

“Well, let me take a look,” Canvas said, gesturing for Sketch to sit down on the stool next to him. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

The bacta patch pulled at the skin across the back of Sketch’s neck and down onto his upper back. It itched, but beneath his armor, there wasn’t a kriffing thing he could do about that right now. Honestly, he should have taken the stupid thing off hours ago, but he’d gotten a little waylaid.

The Martez sisters had arrived earlier in the shift to drop off their latest shipment and pick up the gold-plated pleasure craft which had been junking up the base’s exterior. Apparently there’d been some kind of haggling to be done with the chop shop owner who’d agreed to take the thing, because while he was very much in favor of earning credits and sabotaging slavers, the craft itself was well-enough known in certain circles to be a liability if it was recognized. Also, there’d been news of some sort, way too sensitive to discuss out in the hanger, amongst the rank and file. Commander Tano, Captain Rex, and both of their remaining Corries had disappeared off with the sisters to deal with whatever that situation was shaping up to be.

And that had left the hanger bay unusually light on clones this shift.

Which was bad news for Sketch, because firstly, he’d been saddled with doing an inventory of everything the Martezes had delivered, and secondly, one of the Mandalorians had cornered him in a dead end made by the walls of newly delivered crates.

Granted, she was a very small Mandalorian, but still.

“Do clones take foundlings?” the girl was asking, all sharp, bright-eyed curiosity.

“Uh…” Sketch said, sounding like a complete idiot, but in all fairness, he was kind of panicking on the inside. He wasn’t entirely sure what a ‘foundling’ was, but he was absolutely sure that Weaver would skin him as a warning to their other brothers if he did something to offend their guests. “What’s a foundling?”

The girl looked at him like he’d lost his mind. She was a tiny little thing, maybe three or four years old if Sketch guessed right. Or, what, seven or so, given that she was a natborn? In any case, she was wearing barely any armor, just a couple bracers and one spaulder over a utilitarian, blue-gray jumpsuit. It’d be cute, if she had been one of Sketch’s younger siblings.

But she wasn’t.

“Like, kids who don’t have any clan to take care of them, so an adult takes them in?” the kid said, sounding like it was entirely possible that Sketch was the stupidest sentient she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.

“Uh, yes?” Sketch said, because that sounded like half a dozen examples on base, where clones had adopted natborn kids.

“Hmm,” the kid said consideringly, like he’d said something far more interesting that Sketch thought he had. “Do you have an Armorer? Because Lira says you do, but Rian says you don’t, because plastoid doesn’t count.”

Kriff, kriff, kriff. He had a better idea of what the kid meant by that, beyond the obvious. Armorers were like religious leaders, or something. Ori had sent around a memo, once a couple weird interactions had started going down between the Mandalorians and Buckler’s team.

Sketch punched a button on his vambrace, again, hoping someone on his squad would see his distress signal and come save him. He didn’t even care that this obviously wasn’t a combat situation. He needed kriffing exfil before he accidentally started some kind of diplomatic incident because he couldn’t figure out how to escape from a kriffing natborn kid without offending her, her natborn parents, who really should be watching their kid better, and whoever else fell in this cadet’s direct chain of command.

His brothers weren’t ever going to let him hear the end of this.

At the moment, Sketch didn’t really care. He didn’t see another way out, short of shoulder-checking the kid out of the way. She was planted right in the middle of his only exit, which was a complete shiny mistake on his part, except this was his base, his home, and he shouldn’t be getting ambushed by tiny Mandalorians here anyway.

“We have brothers who make our armor,” he hedged, taking another step backwards, but he was hemmed in on all sides by crates from the Silver Angel.

“Do you speak Mando’a?” the kid asked, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring at Sketch significantly.

Yes, yes Sketch did, a little. A very, very little. And he wasn’t about to demonstrate any of the words he used most often in front of a political timebomb of a natborn child who he absolutely could not offend.

“Sora! Where did you get to?” another voice cut in, and maybe that might have made Sketch relax a little if he’d recognized them, but he didn’t.

The kid’s face scrunched up, like she very badly wanted to stomp her foot or throw some other kind of tantrum, but she did turn halfway around and reply, “I’m over here!”

The voice’s owner appeared at the end of the row of crates, and of course it was another Mandalorian, except this one was an adult woman, fully-armored in green and blue plate. “I told you not to leave the ship!” she said, storming down the aisle between the crates, headed straight for the kid.

Headed straight for Sketch.

The back of his cuirass clacked against the crates as he took another involuntary step backwards.

A voice, which sounded an awful lot like Sling, was saying in the back of Sketch’s head, ‘Breathe. You’re safe. Just breathe with me.’

Sketch breathed, or tried to, as the Mandalorian woman stomped closer.

He hated this. He hadn’t been like this before. General Talmani had been kind. The natborn officers on the Synchronicity had been professional. Most of the civilians he’d interacted with had been fine. Some had even been nice.

But then his chip had activated, and then the nature of his interactions with natborns had taken a definite turn.

You’re safe. Breathe. You do not answer to them. They haven’t done anything, and if they do, you have the right to defend yourself now. Just breathe.

Kark every last square centimeter of all of this. He was not going to have his first panic attack in a kriffing year because he’d let himself get cornered by an overly-curious if overbearing natborn child and her parent? Sibling? Guardian?

Didn’t matter. She could be Lady Kryze herself, and she still wouldn’t be in Sketch’s chain of command. He was safe. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

He must have fuzzed out for a second, because it took him a minute to realize that the Mandalorian woman was lecturing the kid, not him. Unless he was really misjudging the angle of her helmet’s T-visor, she wasn’t even looking at him.

“… going to apologize to him. Right now,” she was saying, sounding very annoyed.

Which, what? That seemed like a trap.

“That’s not necessary, ma’am,” he found himself saying mechanically.

Both of the Mandalorians were looking at him now. The kid was pouting, and the adult’s helmet was tipped to one side at an angle Sketch might have called ‘assessing’ if he’d seen it on one of his brothers.

The datapad in Sketch’s hands was starting to creak in protest of how hard he was gripping it.

After a very long, very awkward silence, the woman reached up to remove her helmet, revealing what was, in all fairness, a very attractive, seemingly human face. Close-cropped brown hair, high cheekbones, rich brown eyes, and lips that seemed more prone to smiles than their current, small frown.

Sketch didn’t relax even a little, still every bit as tripwire tense as he’d been since the woman had first appeared.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the sound of heavy boot treads behind her drew her attention instead.

The choking, smothering feeling of panic loosened its hold inside Sketch’s chest when he saw the Republic cog on his brother’s helmet.

Jesse.

Thank kriff. Jesse would know how to handle this.

“What seems to be the problem?” Jesse said, sounding perfectly cordial. His stance was anything but.

Sketch didn’t miss the way the woman angled herself, where the slightest twist would put her armored body in between the child and either one of the troopers who were now surrounding her, but her voice sounded utterly calm, even casual when she said, “I’m afraid my little sister cornered one of your troopers with, I’m sure, a large number of highly nosy questions. For which she was just about to apologize.”

The child’s pout intensified, but she did look up at Sketch and mumble, “Sorry.”

Sketch jerked a small nod. “No harm done, ma’am,” he said in the same mechanical tone.

If anything, that made Jesse’s posture go even more tense, but none of that was obvious in his voice when he said, “That’s good to hear. Brother, could you join me?”

Something occurred to the woman then. Unhappy surprise flashed across her features before her eyes shuttered. She put a hand on her sister’s shoulder and turned, backing them both against the long line of crates, opening an obvious escape route for Sketch.

One foot in front of the next, measured and perfect. Above reproach. He even managed a marginal nod, conveying appropriate gratitude as he passed the two Mandalorians. He hated to give them his back, but Jesse was here. His brother, his team leader was here, watching over the situation. Sketch was safe enough, with an ARC as his backup.

When he got in range, Jesse took him by the elbow, his gloved and gauntleted hand solid and grounding.

Sketch took a shaky breath in the privacy of his own helmet.

“I hear you’ve finally come up with a design for a Reaper logo,” Jesse said as they started walking swiftly away, still sounding supremely casual. Sketch was grateful for the distraction.

The Mandalorians weren’t following them. Sketch looked back to check.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, sounding humiliatingly unsteady. “Canvas just finished up the coloring earlier this shift.”

“I hear he does good work,” Jesse said, steering them both towards the bay’s side door rather than the main exit. That led towards the medics’ area rather than the main part of the base, which wasn’t exactly surprising. Sketch didn’t have it in him to protest. He was having a bad reaction, way out of proportion with the severity of the actual situation. He knew that. Knowing didn’t make his heart stop pounding though. “We’ll have to compare notes, after you chat with Kix.”

Kriff, that was right. Kix had accompanied them back from Wadj. It was looking like their Reaper team had picked up a dedicated medic. Kind of a step down from being the functional CMO of their little operation, but Kix had insisted. Jesse certainly wasn’t about to tell his closest brother no, and apparently, neither were his former COs.

Sketch still winced a little. Kix could be kind of intense. “I was going to talk to Sling,” he said, sounding as sulky as the kid had.

Something about that seemed to amuse Jesse, given the angle of his bucket. “You can do that too, but you’re still seeing Kix.”

Kark.

Jesse liked the tattoo. So did all of the others.

Canvas had some kind of personal rule about not copying the same tattoos between brothers without explicit permission, but Sketch was happy to share. That was sort of the whole point of the design, after all.

Smaller versions showed up on Quartz’s shoulder and Mirror’s chest. List added a version to his armor. Feathers wanted Sketch to paint a bigger version on the side of the Scythe. Apparently some of Ridge’s team had gotten wind of it too, not that Sketch had seen what they’d done yet.

Kix surprisingly hadn’t insisted on benching Sketch, but it didn’t escape anyone’s attention that Sketch was always assigned a partner, when he was given any task which might bring him into contact with the Mandalorians on base. He might have protested being coddled like that if it hadn’t been such a relief.

When word of their next mission came down, a major raid on some kind of independent pirate enclave, Kix still didn’t flag Sketch’s file.

When pressed, their way-too-senior team medic had sourly pointed out that Sketch had proven time and again that he was perfectly capable of keeping it together when his mission involved shooting natborns. He just couldn’t kriffing talk to them.

“It’s not ideal, but what is these days?” Kix had said, which was abrasive as all kriff, but also weirdly comforting. If Sketch was a basket case, then at least he was in good company.

For an osik’la, independent pirate base on the shebs-end of Mandalorian space, their target apparently had some unexpected perimeter defenses.

“Hold on!” Feathers yelled over the ship’s comms even as the ship swerved to miss… whatever the kriff had just hit them. Not a missile. Missiles didn’t clang against the hull like that and not explode. Not unless something had gone badly wrong with their internal mechanisms, and clones just didn’t get that lucky.

They were already in atmo, which was a karking good thing, because all of them could hear the whistling howl of air ripping across a new hole somewhere in the ship. Whatever had happened had better not have cut across the Scythe’s new nose art. Sketch had worked hard getting it just right.

His absurdly misplaced priorities almost made him laugh out loud, but he knew it would come out sounding a little hysterical, so he swallowed the reaction back down.

On the other hand, they were already in atmo, which also meant that Dive’s rapid, irregular maneuvers were hitting Sketch’s stomach in a way they just didn’t in zero-G. He had a pretty solid stomach, as such things went, but there were limits. Oof.

“Coming in hot!” Feathers shouted again, which was the only warning any of them got before

the ship rolled to one side, dropped abruptly, and impacted the ground, metal screaming in protest as they skidded across whatever surface Feathers had picked as his emergency landing area.

Sketch must have hit his head, or something, because the next thing he knew, he was staggering out of the half-deployed loading ramp, blaster rifle in hand. The ship was tilted at an awkward angle, wedged up against a wall and listing over what looked like a drain culvert for a massively polluted stream. There was a Kom’rk fighter downed on the other side of the courtyard, burning ferociously and bristling with what looked like four giant, metal spears.

What the kriff? Is that what had been hitting them?

His vision swam a little when he jumped down to the flagstones, staggering to get into formation behind Jesse and the others. Definitely a head injury then. Great.

The only good news was that the base’s defenses got a whole lot squishier now that they were past the automated aerial systems. Pirates were, on the whole, a sloppy, undisciplined lot; and this group was shaping up to fit with that pattern.

Didn’t mean the whole mission went off without a hitch though.

Sketch was starting to feel pretty rough, maybe thirty minutes later when Jesse’s Reapers had reached the base’s large mess hall or cantina. Whatever was served here, alcohol was clearly a major component of it, given the round bar area which dominated the center of the room. Quad’s Raiders had already cleared the space, so the room should have been clear. This should have been mop-up, on the way to back up Ridge’s team, who had run into some pockets of resistance in the base’s brig.

Sketch’s vision was getting worse by the second, and his head was starting to pound, but he just happened to be angled the right direction to see the scrawny weequay peek over the edge of the bar.

A lot of things happened in very rapid succession.

Sketch shouted out a warning.

The weequay pointed something at Torque. It wasn’t a blaster, or at least it wasn’t any model Sketch recognized, but it was clearly some kind of projectile weapon.

His brothers swung around, pivoting their blasters towards the perceived threat.

Torque was raising his blaster too, but he wasn’t going to get it up in time.

Sketch was already moving, throwing himself at his brother.

A shot rang out, a loud crack instead of a sharp sizzle.

Something slammed into Sketch’s back, right as he collided with Torque.

The two of them went down in a heap.

Rings of blue light, stunning blasts in preparation for the possibility of civilians on base, flew over Sketch’s head, in the direction of the bar.

Sketch rolled off of Torque, trying to get his own blaster up, even from this awkward position. Nothing hurt, but something was definitely wrong. His arm wasn’t working right.

Oh.

Oh wait.

Now he hurt.

Right, because shock was still a thing.

There was a lot of shouting happening, but Sketch was having trouble following most of it, especially when Kix appeared in his field of vision and started tearing at the releases on his cuirass.

The inside of his chest plate, as Kix lifted it away, was red. That wasn’t right.

“Slug thrower,” Kix barked to somebody off to Sketch’s left. “Hold still,” he said, obviously to Sketch himself.

Sketch wanted to say something, maybe a joking, ‘Sir, yes sir,’ but all he managed to do was half-raise one hand. To do what, exactly, he wasn’t sure. Everything was hurting now.

Kix pulled something out of his belt, tugged the high collar of Sketch’s blacks down, and jabbed something into the side of his neck.

It was cold.

Everything went dark.

Waking up was a process.

Sketch’s head felt like it was stuffed with fluff. He was lying on his front, face pressed into a soft surface. It was unreasonably comfortable. Maybe he didn’t need to wake up just yet.

The next time he drifted back towards consciousness, he heard voices nearby.

“… Commander’s great,” someone was slurring. A brother. “’S her marks, see? Sort of. She lets us wear ‘em.”

“Is that so?” another voice asked, and even though it sounded soft and kind, it decidedly wasn’t a brother.

Sketch tensed, and something started beeping. He was still face-down on a cot, he couldn’t see what was going on. He tried to push himself up, needing to see where he was, needing to assess the current threat, when a hand landed in the middle of his back.

“Yeah, no,” another brother, apparently the hand’s owner, said. “You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was sharp, but the hand on Sketch’s back was gentle, even as it inexorably pressed him back down. “Mirror, I’m gonna need you to stop talking.”

“Sure thing, Kix,” Sketch’s brother, Mirror, said, still sounding very drugged.

Kix. Their medic. The medic.

Kriff, Sketch had been injured, hadn’t he? It was hard to remember.

The weight of Kix’s hand disappeared from Sketch’s back and the beeping sound stopped abruptly. “Mel, could you go check on Chat and Rico?” the medic asked, but the tone of voice made it very obvious to everyone that it wasn’t really a request.

“Of course,” the natborn, this ‘Mel,’ said. Sketch could hear footsteps retreating and a door opening and closing.

“Come on back down, Sketch,” Kix said, hand returning to the back of Sketch’s neck, heavy and grounding. “It’s just Mirror and me in here with you now.”

Okay. Okay, that was good.

“What happened?” Sketch mumbled into his… pillow? It was thicker than the ones he was used to. Softer.

“You got shot in the back,” Kix said dryly. “The slug just missed your subclavian artery, or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. Don’t worry, we managed to dig it out and patch you back together well enough.”

The haze of the lingering drugs was fading just enough that Sketch was able to think through that information, at least a little. “Who’s ‘we’?” he asked. He didn’t think they’d brought any other medics on this mission. Maybe Kipp? He’d been training with the real medics lately, hadn’t he?

Kix was silent for a long moment, but he did answer when Sketch managed to turn his head to look up at his brother. “Mel has medical training,” he admitted, expression very serious. “You were never alone with them. I promise.”

Sketch couldn’t help the shudder that inched up his spine.

“Right,” he said, brain sluggishly working through the implications. At the moment, Kix was here, and that was enough. Sketch let himself relax, just a little.

Now that he’d had his attention drawn to it, he could feel the bandage across his upper back and shoulders. That… wasn’t great.

“Did it mess up my tattoo?” he asked, because that would be just about typical. He’d only just gotten the kriffing thing.

Kix snorted. “Nothing Canvas won’t be able to fix,” he said, sounding more than a little sardonic. “And we took the base, by the way.”

Right. The base. Yeah, that was probably a little more important. “Casualties?”

“Light, all things considered. Kryze’s people got the worst of it,” Kix admitted. “But we can go over that later, when you’re more likely to remember the conversation.”

“Yeah,” Sketch said, rolling his face back into the pillow. He was feeling awfully groggy again. “Okay.”

“I need to go check on my other patients,” Kix said, almost sounding apologetic, but he huffed a small laugh when Sketch managed to flap one hand in permission or agreement or something. “If you need anything, tell Mirror to call me.”

“S’that mean I can talk again?” Mirror asked, still sounding at least twice as out of it as Sketch felt. And he was getting sleepier by the second.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Kix said with an audible sigh. “Try not to talk Sketch’s ear off though. He could use some more sleep.”

Wasn’t that the truth?

The admonition didn’t slow Mirror down for long though. Kix had barely left when he said, “Mel’s alright. The pirates apparently bought them off some Hutts. I know you’ve got issues with…” he paused, apparently recognizing that he was verging into dangerous territory, even in his highly drugged state. “Uh, the point is, they’re one of the good ones.”

Sketch wasn’t in the mood to unpack any of that. “What’d Kix give you?” he asked instead, because even in his own drugged state, he still wasn’t half as karked up as Mirror sounded.

“Dunno, Kix said they’d burned through the regular stuff on you and some of the Mandos,” Mirror said cheerfully. “I got some of the good osik from the pirates’ supplies.”

“Lucky,” Sketch grumbled into his pillow.

“But seriously, you don’t have to worry about Mel.”

Sketch didn’t bother to dignify that with an answer. If he thought about it too much, he was going to tense up all over again, and what he really wanted was sleep.

“They liked your tattoo design,” Mirror tried again, sounding almost hopeful.

That… wasn’t actually very comforting, but Sketch was having trouble pinning down why exactly. Other than his blanket aversion to natborns he didn’t know.

“Going to try to sleep some more,” he mumbled, hoping Mirror would take the hint.

“Right, you do that,” Mirror said cheerfully. “I’ve got the watch.”

That also wasn’t half as comforting as Mirror clearly meant for it to be.

AN: Apologies for the delay with this one. This chapter fought me tooth and nail. I did write a little vignette in the interim, just to try to kick myself out of wy writing funk though. It's called Lazarus and it's from Rex's POV during Echo's rescue on Skako Minor, in case you're interested.

I know that canonically there is already a clone named Sketch. I remembered him pretty early on while writing this chapter, but the other names I tried out just didn't fit. So no, they're not the same person, but also meh, my guess is in an army of millions, there are at least a few clones running around with duplicate names.

Other chapters are available here.

Dividers by freesia-writes using helmets by lornaka. More designs available here.

#eidola tcw fanfic #star wars #tcw #clone wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #tcw fanfic #clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #star wars the clone wars fanfic #clone troopers #original clone trooper

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stopthatmyhandsaredirty · 9 months

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Star Ware Rebels Bechdel Test Rewatch- 2x21 ‘Twilight of the Apprentice, Part I’

Plot

Ezra, Kanan, and Ahsoka arrive at Malachor, a seemingly dead world and home to an ancient Sith Temple, but they are not alone. Paths cross, destinies change, and fates are fulfilled

Female Characters: 2

Ahsoka Tano, Seventh Sister

Male Characters: 6

Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Maul, Fifth Brother, Eighth Brother, Rex

Droid Characters: 1

Chopper

Does it pass?

No, sadly this isn’t a pass. Ahsoka and the Seventh Sister clash sabers but don’t actually speak.

While I find Season 2 to be the most uneven overall, it sure has great premiere and finale episodes. ‘Twilight of the Apprentice’ as a whole is among my favorite Star Wars ever.

Part I is mostly setup for the high drama that is Part II, but this is still a really good one. I’ve always loved the design of the Sith Temple on Malachor. This is also the most interesting version of Maul in my opinion. I love that some of his lines are taken directly from Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back. Maul uses a similar tactic as Yoda, pretending to be a helpless, humble old man before revealing his true power.

I’d also like to note that this is the second episode of the series to feature neither Hera or Sabine.

#Star Wars rebels #rebels rewatch #sw rebels #swrebels #Ahsoka tano #seventh sister #women of star wars #bechdel test

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clonewarsarchives · 2 years

Photo

COMING OF AGE (#123, FEB 2011)

Ahsoka Tano has grown immeasurably since she first became Anakin Skywalker’s Padawan, actress Ashley Eckstein reveals how her time on the show has been a learning curve and why it’s time for Ahsoka to get tough! Words: Jonathan Wilkins

Star Wars Insider: You’ve got a new costume and a new look on the show. As a successful clothes designer yourself, did you have any input in the designs?

Ashley Eckstein: I didn’t have any input, but I thought they did a fantastic job. I’m in love with her new outfit and I hope to be able to sell pieces based on it because it looks fantastic. What girl would not want Ahsoka’s new tights?

So could we see something like that in the Her Universe line at some point?

Who knows? It’s not even in planning stages, but it’s on a wish list of things I’d like to do. I joke with Dave [Filoni, supervising director of Star Wars: The Clone Wars] that he actually is quite the fashion designer. Not only did he knock it out the park with his Plo Koon and Ahsoka T-shirt for Her Universe, now he has designed Ahsoka’s new look.

And she has two lightsabers.

Two lightsabers are always better than one! I thought that was awesome that she got a second lightsaber. One of them is shorter, almost like a lightsaber dagger, which I thought was really cool.

Do you think that’s a sign of her toughening up?

She’s definitely toughening up. She’s spent so much time with Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Plo Koon that she’s taking on their fighting skills, especially Anakin’s. Ahsoka has no fear, no fear at all. She just goes right at it. Sometimes Anakin is so spontaneous that he doesn’t think about the Jedi way of doing things. Obi-Wan is more by the book. Ahsoka is definitely a combination of them both.

Is Anakin a bad influence?

I wouldn’t say Anakin is a bad influence, but he’s not necessarily the best influence for promoting the Jedi way. Anakin does things his own way, so Ahsoka has definitely become more like Anakin. At times she acts in ways that would be against what they would teach at the Jedi Temple. But thinking outside the box like Anakin and Ahsoka do is sometimes the best way to accomplish what you want. You have to take the good with the bad.

The upcoming Mortis episodes are very different from what we have seen to date. What was your reaction when you first read those scripts?

The scripts of the three Mortis episodes really blew my mind. I couldn’t believe that they were allowing us to tackle that storyline. There are some heavy questions about Anakin and who he is. It really affects the movies and ties them into our series. I think that’s what so nice about our show—as we go along, we help explain things that happen in the movies and answer people’s questions about why things are the way they are.

When we first started, some fans complained because our show would be part of Star Wars canon, but now I think they welcome the fact that they’re getting some answers they always wanted.

How did you approach these episodes as an actress?

I had to approach them differently because Ahsoka goes through many personality transformations during this story. She grows up, and she goes through some extremely tough times. Just having to explore those different personalities, but still keeping them true to Ahsoka, was quite difficult for me.

There was one scene I wasn’t quite hitting on the first try. Usually when we record an episode we only do three takes of every line, and then we move on. It’s rare to do more than three takes of something, but this one particular scene we were doing over and over again. I was getting really frustrated that I couldn’t nail it. I was so blessed to have James Arnold Taylor [Obi-Wan] in the studio with me. He came over and said, “Okay Ashley, calm down, you can do this. Try it this way,” which was completely different than how I was doing it. It worked and that’s the take they ended up using. It’s like going to school every time you go into a recording session. I’m constantly learning from the cast.

The animation in that particular scene just blew my mind. The animators continue to raise the bar, but they really went to town for the Mortis episodes. There’s some stunning shots that we truly haven’t seen before.

Would you like to explore other aspects of Ahsoka in the future?

As an actress you always look for challenging opportunities and roles. Now that the cast have all become so familiar with our characters, it can become routine because playing your character becomes second nature. We’ve been working on the show for five years, so you automatically know how your character would say certain lines. To have opportunities that are challenging and [that] give you the chance to stretch your talents is definitely something that I look forward to. Putting Ahsoka into different situations, whether she seems evil, or whether she grows up, or whatever might happen to her in the future, is something that can be very rewarding to perform.

Does it really seem like five years since you started working on the show or has it gone really quickly?

It has gone by very quickly. Where we [the cast] really notice it is in our friendships. We’ve gotten to know each other really well, and we’re like a family. It’s surpassed just a professional relationship where you arrive, shake hands, and say, “Hi, good to see you again,” to where you walk in and give that person a hug and say, “How’s it going? How’re your wife and your children?” That’s where I realize we’re creating a family here similar to our characters and how close our characters are. The Jedi might not like attachments, but we’ve definitely become attached to each other.

What sort of direction did Dave Filoni give for these episodes?

Dave’s direction was imperative for these episodes. It always is, but [especially for] these in particular because they were such a stretch for our characters. We were coming out of our element and we had to give more dramatic performances, so we had to rely on Dave to paint that picture for us. We also went to a new location that we’d never been to before, so it really was uncharted territory! There was certainly a dramatic, intense feeling inside the studio for this story arc! Everybody was very serious, and we were all very into our characters. Matt Lanter, who is such a fantastic actor, takes his character acting very seriously. I like to watch him before he starts recording getting into character; that’s really cool. These are huge episodes for Anakin; he’s the centerpiece of these episodes. Matt has the weight of the story on his shoulders, so to see him get into character and go to that place was amazing to watch.

Did you expect the show to be so challenging on a dramatic level?

I certainly didn’t expect this level of drama. We knew that we were going to be tackling storylines that were set during the Clone Wars, but I don’t think I ever imagined that we would play such an integral part in the overall story of Star Wars.

You have said that Dave is your master and you’re his Padawan. What’s the best advice he’s given you?

To trust my instincts. That was one thing he wanted from the very beginning. He wanted me to bring a lot of myself to Ahsoka, and he still encourages that. The fact that he trusted me to help him create this new character for Star Wars is something I feel honored about. That Dave and George would be open to listening to my opinion is great. They let me bring a lot of suggestions and my own personality to the characterization of Ahsoka.

Dave leads by example. To see how far he’s come professionally over the course of these five years has been incredible. I think he’s just tapping into his talents—he is such a talented man and to watch him, he won’t take no for an answer. If George Lucas says, “Dave you need to go create this,” even if it seems against all odds and has never been done on television before, Dave will find a way to do it, and he’ll do it the best he possibly can. He encourages me to do just that. He’s really a fantastic Jedi Master for me to follow—I’ve learned a lot from him.

Nika Futterman said that she’d like to see Asajj Ventress in a rematch with Ahsoka. Why do you think Ahsoka would win?

Well, Ventress is pretty tough, but Ahsoka’s come a long way since they first fought. I think that it would be a tough battle, but Ahsoka’s got two lightsabers now so it’s definitely more of an even match. I can imagine my tears if Ahsoka lost, because I’ve become so emotionally invested in her that the thought of her not being around is very sad. But what’s the exact quote? “Always in motion is the future?” Who knows what will happen?

Ahsoka’s come a very long way since the Star Wars: The Clone Wars movie. Where would you like to see her go next?

I don’t have any say in the storylines, so I don’t really know her overall story. I think she’s truly going in the direction that I think the fans want her to go in, and she’s maturing in ways that I think they were hoping. I like that she has more responsibility and she’s getting tough. I have to say we have such fantastic writers and obviously Dave is such an amazing supervising director, so I trust where they’re going to take her. They haven’t made any mistakes so far and I don’t see them ever making a mistake with her because they’re truly invested in the character of Ahsoka. I’m honored to be a part of the ride.

#Ashley Eckstein #Ahsoka Tano #Season 3 #insider #i123 #cast #the clone wars

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