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uwingdispatch · 2 years

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A Soft Touch

Notes: Poe Dameron/Reader, gender neutral reader, post-sequels, mild hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader, domestic fluff

CW: discussion of active shooter-type incident/domestic terorism, chronic illness, chronic pain, references to PTSD, implied sexual intimacy

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

You’re at home when you get the emergency alert on your com. An armed First Order loyalist has been nearby, purportedly targeting the area because of the number of ex-military who had settled there after the war. Arsix immediately goes around the house closing all the curtains and checking the locks on windows and doors.

If you’ve learned anything from all of the books you’ve read it’s that there will always be terror. There was terror before the Clone War—in the oft-heralded High Republic, even. There was terror before the Empire as well as after it fell. There would always be beings that want to do harm. Even in times of peace, especially in heavily populated cities that serve as seats of government. So you know that in a way this is normal. Still, your heart begins to beat a little too fast

Your com beeps again with warnings to not approach the subject, to remain calm and call authorities. You take a deep breath. Poe should have already been home from work. He’s only a few minutes late—it’s no reason to panic, but you’re panicking anyway. The sweating, the nausea, the ringing in your ears—it’s setting in, and all you can do now is ride it out.

When you hear the door open, Arsix has you flat on your back on the couch with an icepack on your face. “Poe, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” he says. “Are you all right?”

You hear BB-8 rolling in and Arsix beeps at both Poe and his droid about their tardiness upsetting you.

“It’s not their fault,” you say.

Poe is already at your side. He moves the ice pack so he can see you, and immediately you see the distress in his eyes.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“Just hold me,” you tell him.

You sit up and scooch over to make room for Poe and as he settles in, his arms wrapped around you, you lay your head on his chest, listen to his steady heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry I made you anxious. I left work a little late and I didn’t think I’d hit traffic…”

“I meant what I said to Arsix. It’s not your fault. My body just…I mean you know what it’s like.”

“I do.”

You’ve held Poe’s hand through panic attacks of his own. No one makes it out of a war unscathed, and on top of the unfathomable loss he’d experienced, there had also been the terror. Being held prisoner on multiple occasions. Torture. The blaster wound that, left untreated between the star destroyer where he’d been shot and the Battle of Exegol, had nearly cost him his arm.

“I’m glad you’re here, though,” you say. “You make me feel safe.”

Poe kisses your forehead, warm and sweet.

“You make me feel safe, too, sweetheart,” he says. “I promise everything will turn out okay.”

“Should we put on the holonews?” you ask. “So we know when—”

“No,” Poe says. “BB-8 sliced into the police coms. He’s going to tell us when they know something.”

“How did he manage that?”

Poe laughs. “I honestly don’t ask questions anymore.”

“How are you so calm right now?” you ask. “This person out there, somewhere near us…wanting to hurt people like you.”

“Because if I let that fear in, it will control me. And I can’t be in that dark place again. I’d rather be here, with you.”

You reach for Poe’s face, the stubble that’s grown in since he shaved this morning rough against your palm, his hair falling out of place as he leans in to kiss you. You run a hand through his wild curls, his lips soft as he pulls you in deep. You can’t help but smile as his hands start sliding down your back toward your hips.

Arsix rolls into the room beeping about your elevated heart rate, and when you both look up, she warbles something about a false alarm and scoots away.

You can’t help but laugh as Poe strokes your cheek. He’s trailing his fingers down your neck when he notices what you’re wearing.

“Is this my scarf?” he asks.

“Is it?” you reply, knowing that both of you know it’s not only his but one of his favorites.

“It suits you.”

You weren’t sure how many dates you’d been on with Poe—mostly because it took a few outings for you to figure out whether these outings were actually dates. Most of your plans had come about casually, as if on a whim. But tonight he’d asked you ahead of time if he could take you out. And when he picked you up he looked…dressed up. Where you’d usually seen him in some combo of jeans and a t-shirt with his resistance jacket—or occasionally a flight suit—tonight he wore (very) well-tailored brown pants with a collared shirt and a scarf.

“What’s wrong?” Poe asked, reaching across your front door’s threshold to take your hand, sneaking in a little caress with his thumb over your knuckles.

“Nothing,” you said. “You just look really, really nice.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s about time I tried to impress you a little.”

“I’m impressed,” you told him. “Let me just grab my coat—”

You were interrupted as you almost tripped over your tooka cat, a plump creature you’d taken home with you after seeing him in the window of a shelter soon after coming to Chandrila. He had three legs and one eye, but his heart was as loving and mischievous as any other tooka.

“Hey, little guy,” Poe said, crouching a bit to offer his hand for a sniff.

The tooka hissed and retreated to circle your feet.

“Huh,” he said. “They usually like me.”

You laughed. “He’s protective,” you said. “We’ve both seen some hard times. But if you show him who you are, he’ll probably come around.”

Arsix beeped from down the hall to remind you to take your com. As you grabbed it from the kitchen counter, Poe called into your apartment, “Don’t worry, Arsix. I’ll have her home before dark.”

“You absolutely will not,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow, but took your hand again and you walked with him out to his landspeeder.

He was about to open the door for you, but stopped. There was a look of consternation on his face for only a moment before he said, “I know traditionally this is done after I bring you home. But I just…I really want to kiss you. Would it be okay if I—”

“Please.”

Tenderly he took your face in his hands, a playful smile in his eyes as he leaned in, first touching his nose to yours and then capturing your lips with his. It was brief and it was sweet, and you leaned into it, your hands wandering over his muscled chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Poe rested his forehead against yours. “Should we go?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said.

Poe kissed you again—a little peck—before opening the speeder door for you. As soon as he slid into the driver’s seat, Poe took your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this safe.

It was late when you realized neither of you had eaten since lunch. BB-8 offered to go pick something up, but Poe insisted on cooking. “I need to do something with my hands,” he’d said. You knew at this point that Poe was feeling more than he wanted you to see. That keeping his hands busy was a way he could keep his mind busy. As he went through the cupboards for ingredients, you rolled your thumb over your wedding ring, thinking of all the stories Poe had told you about his mother.

Poe had learned to cook from both of his parents, but he especially liked making a dish his mother taught him when he was young and which his father continued to make for him on difficult nights into his teens. He’d taken to making this for you on evenings that you needed comfort as well.

Later, as you and Arsix are cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the leftovers, BB-8 lets out a long chirp—loud enough to wake up Poe, who had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner. He sits straight up from what you know is a heavy sleep, clearly alarmed.

“BB-8,” he says, “you have news?”

The droid chirps and whistles, unable to contain his own relief as he wobbles in place. Suspect in custody. Threat neutralized.

“Did anybody get hurt?” you ask.

BB-8 whistles low. Several injuries. No deaths.

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe says. “Now get the hell out of the police coms before you get caught.”

Poe meanders out to the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, gently kissing your forehead. “You didn’t have to clean up,” he says. I know your back hasn’t been great this week, I would have done it when I woke up.”

“I’m feeling better tonight,” you say. “And Arsix did most of it. I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been trying not to show it, but I know you’re feeling the stress of the day, too.”

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He leans in, touches his nose to yours.

You run your fingers through Poe’s hair, his curls having grown a bit long in recent months, threaded with silver.

“I’m sure you get away with a lot just because you’re pretty.”

The truth is Poe isn’t keen on his hair going gray—a point of vanity that you’ve talked him through more than once. How you love the silver that’s come in since you met, back when his hair was mostly dark. Just as you love the way his eyes crinkle in the corners every time he smiles.

He lets his hand wander down your back toward the hem of your shirt and you think you know where things are headed when your tooka-cat jumps up on the counter, knocking over an empty canteen. You’ve shooed the tooka away when you see the spot on Poe’s shirt

“Poe, you’ve got a bit of sauce there.”

You’re turning to get a stain stick out of the kitchen drawer, but he surprises you when he says, “I guess it has to come off, then.”

He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs out of it, tossing it over a chair, and pulls you toward him. His skin is warm as you touch your hands to his firm chest, his broad shoulders, the tattoo on his left bicep of a tree his mother planted on Yavin IV, the intricate blossoms falling down his arm. Somewhere underneath is a scar he chose to conceal. “To move forward,” he’d told you, years ago.

“So how much better is your back, sweetheart?” he asks.

“It’s good,” you say, leaning into a soft, hungry kiss with one hand on his shoulder and the other at the back of his neck, giving his hair the lightest tug.

There were only a few people left in the little restaurant when you and Poe decided to order after-dinner caf. It was late, but it seemed that neither of you wanted to leave yet. Like if you stayed in this spot forever, the night couldn’t end.

Poe had started to seem a little nervous. As if he hadn’t told you intimate details of his life on the day you met. Or kissed you before getting in the speeder tonight.

“I don’t think you ever told me where you grew up, General,” you said.

This drew a smile from him, a man clearly proud of his service, but not so proud as to not enjoy a little teasing.

“Yavin,” he said. “Yavin IV. My parents settled there after the last war. A bunch of families did.”

“That sounds nice,” you said. “And very warm, if I recall.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you think I’m going to need a new jacket for winter?”

“Probably,” you said. “So you’re a new arrival?”

“I’ve only been here for six months,” Poe said, running his thumb along the edge of his caf cup. “Chandrila, I mean. Hanna City. Just…got offered this teaching job by a friend of a friend and…a new start sounded nice, you know?”

“I came here for that, too,” you said. “Three years ago. And there’s a doctor here, a specialist who has been helping me. And after the war…it was a bit of a perfect storm of reasons to make some big changes. So I did.”

Poe’s face turned a bit serious for a moment. “A good doctor can be hard to come by.”

You noticed he was clutching his left bicep. “Old injury?”

“Healed by a good friend. A very good, very patient friend.” He sighed. “Mostly healed. Some wounds never heal right, you know?”

“I do know, actually,” you said. “If you ever want to tell me about it, I’m happy to listen.”

For a fleeting moment, the look on Poe’s face told you he’d gone somewhere you couldn’t follow. “I swear, Kalonia was ready to kill me herself by the time I left the Navy,” he said. “But that’s another story for another time.” He reached across the table to take your hand.

You looked up and realized you were the last two in the place. “I think they’re waiting for us to leave.”

“You want me to take you home, huh?” he asked.

“Mostly I just want you to kiss me again.”

The two of you had barely made it to the speeder when Poe pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your lips that was both satisfaction and invitation. An electric feeling ran through your body as you deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his soft, dark curls. And the whole sky felt more open and vast than you had ever known it to be, as you let yourself live in this moment, wondering at the fact that somehow the two of you were alive, that your lips fit so perfectly together, that no matter what you told him about the difficulties of your life he still seemed to see you as a whole person.

You’d brought yourself close to tears when you said, “Now you can take me home, Poe.”

You’re surprised to find Poe in the kitchen when you wake—he should be at work.

“What are you doing at home?” you ask.

“Academy told everyone to stay home today,” he said. “The whole school district, actually. Just in case.”

He's a flight intstructor at one of the public schools. Poe had been offered teaching jobs before at fancy private institutions and more than one of the military academies, but it was a public school that finally lured him in. As he told you soon after you met, “everyone deserves the opportunity to learn to fly.”

You breathe in the aroma of freshly brewed caf, and Poe pours you a cup before you even think to ask. On ice of course, sweetened.

“What do you say we go out today?” he asks. “Unless you have any work you need to get done. I was just thinking, after last night, it might be nice to just…go do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we could just go downtown, see what’s going on. Maybe hang out in the park for a bit, visit those shops you like down by the water…”

“Slow down, Poe,” you say. “Let me go get dressed. And then we can go anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Within reason.”

“Okay,” he says. “But first, just one thing.”

He pulls you close, taking the cup of caf out of your hands and placing it on the counter.

“I thought that was mine,” you say.

He tugs at the tie at the waist of your robe, pushing the soft fabric away from your shoulder so he can kiss you there—and then your throat, your jaw, and finally your lips. And you are so happy to be kissed by Poe that you forget the caf, the kitchen, the rest of the galaxy as his strong arms pull you close and he presses his body flush against yours. There is nothing between you but the slightest whisper as he lets one hand linger on your hip.

“Stars, you’re beautiful,” he says. “Did you know that? How beautiful you are?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you say.

“It’s true.”

“I believe you.”

You could stay in this moment forever, but your elbow bumps the cup of caf on the counter and you’re right back in your kitchen on Chandrila—and there’s caf running down your leg.

“Kriff,” Poe says. “I’m so sorry—I’ll take care of this.”

“We’ve both seen worse things than a caf spill,” you say.

He smiles and says, “We have, haven’t we?”

Poe waves you out of the kitchen and you head back to the bedroom to clean up. You throw on something casual as Arsix comes in to check on you and remind you to take your morning meds.

“Thanks, I almost forgot,” you say. “It looks like Poe and I are going to be in town today. Do you need anything while we’re out?”

She beeps excitedly about a new paperback she was hoping to find at a local bookshop, and you have her send the info to your datapad. You’re always happy to bring home new books for your odd little droid—everyone needs hobbies, and Arsix has been an invaluable companion. Sometimes you wonder how you coped without her for so long.

Poe is waiting for you in the kitchen with his jacket on. “You look perfect, sweetheart” he says, the smile on his face saying just as much as his words.

You’ve spent so much of your life being told that you’re broken or—perhaps worse—a burden that it’s stunning to see yourself through Poe’s eyes. You kiss his cheek and are about to head out to the garage when he stops you.

“Just a minute. I have…” Poe pauses and pulls a scarf from his pocket—his scarf—and ties it loosely around you neck. “There,” he says. “Now we’re ready to go.”

When he takes your hand you feel a bit of the electricity from the first night he kissed you. Every kiss that night felt both new and familiar and every touch still carries some of that thrill. You spot the speeder bike in the garage—a recent acquisition—and suggest that today might be a good day to take it out.

Poe is more than happy to entertain this idea, and when you hop on the back of the bike and wrap your arms around his middle, you have no idea what the rest of the day will bring. But pulling out of the garage and away from the driveway, you’re grateful that whatever comes next it will be with Poe.

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this fic is a soft landing for you, and that you feel seen and loved. Really just wanted to create something sweet since the last fic I posted was a little intense. Tagging some folks who I think would enjoy:

@justrunamok @writingbylee @princessxkenobi @zinzinina @aerynwrites @galaxtic-writings @belfry-bat @phoenixhalliwell @laserbrains @r1-sw-lover @darthanakin @disastersim @infinityrevengers @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @noclue32 @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @mintpurplemnm @multifandom-fic-rec-blog

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars sequels #established relationship #domestic fluff #hurt/comfort #soft!poe #tw: active shooter #disabled reader #chronic illness #anxiety #and obviously there's a tooka-cat #droids with hobbies #uwingwriting

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kira-mortham · 8 months

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Compilation of random Star Wars sketches. I've been drawing Drax a bit more lately, he is very flumfy

#star wars #original character #star wars art #star wars oc #original species #kira mortham #jedi #padawan oc #jedi oc #master and padawan #falleen oc #kaminoan oc #star wars droids #creature #loth cat #tooka cat

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kordell-fein · 9 months

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OС challenge. Day 7. Extraordinary. "From the very beginning, everything went wrong" and a continuation of the previous topic, but with an important addition: someone interfered in the usual course of events or something happened. And the cat came...

#star wars oc #b1 droid #tooka cat

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jarenka · 1 year

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Yesterday I saw another tiktok with a cat riding roomba. Do tookas ride MSE-6-series repair droids? I think so.

#star wars #Darth Vader #tooka cat #my art

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spiralingemptyness · 7 months

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I want more… clone hc pt. 2

why not more hc, I’m bored and wanna ramble… sorry if I repeated any.

99 is the best vode, he knows everything. If a brother is said, he’ll hug them, give words of encouragement and stuff and a mysteriously some illegal contraband that whatever the clone likes will randomly show up.

Shaak ti is buff and can hold her own if not demolish the Alphas on the training mats (The Rancor battalion found that out the hard way)

Jek, Rys and Thire became close after the mission with Yoda, Thire is still close with the commanders on Coruscant, but he’s even closer with the other two

While Hound may be a sergeant, he’s still an honorary commander member, he became the little brother of the group

…Thorn didn’t die on Scipio, nope, no way. Amidala saved him, always carrying a blaster or smth.

Dogma became really good at braiding hair because of all the time he braided Tups hair, so after Umbara when he definitely goes to Coruscant, Amidala finds out and sometimes ask him to do her hair.

Colt may essentially be Buir of Kamino, but all the alphas (especially 17) out Buir him, and it can be very comedic how a big burly alpha is hauling a ARC commander just to force them to sleep.

Fox absolutely denies or threaten to black mail shebse squad if they bring up the fact Fox was the first to fold and call Alpha-17 buir.

Colt and Wolffe have regular holo-calls just to shit talk Ventress.

Rex got adopted into Shebse squad after he bit Cody (Wolffe was proud)

When Kix is on shift in medbay, most of the time Jesse is there with him, he doesn’t have to be their but he’s a good batch mate.

Each shebse squad member have a quirk in fighting droids: Cody punches and spin kicks them, Wolffe bits them, Rex throws his blasters at them if they run out of ammo, Fox for some reason carry’s a high voltage taser, Bly drop kicks them, and Ponds throws rocks at them to catch them off guard

On multiple occasions animals like Loth cats and Tookas have been snuck on board the venators and multiple times have had to been taken off board

Fives has a girly scream, Torrent found out after he was caught singing in the barracks

Comet (and Plo Buir) can convice Wolffe to take care of himself (little brother privileges), unlike Boost, Warthog, and Sinker who have to sedate him of physically haul him away from the bridge

MEDICS GIVE STICKERS, if a your a good patient, you get a sticker. So there is a lot of vode with stickers inside or outside there armor

Colt keeps himself loaded with weapons, many different types of blasters, check. Lots of vibroblades and vibroswords (that he stole from commando droids), check. It will take a solid 10 mins for him to de-weapon himself

after Khorm, Plo threatened Captain Ozzel…. It was terrifying, Kit Fisto was both shocked and absolutely scared of getting on Plo Koons bad side.

Monnk collects different shells and rocks from the ocean floor and give them to different vode

kit fisto taught his battalion how to fish, just randomly, out of the blue he said they were going fishing and they went fishing

Ashoka definitely stole the ‘I’m no Jedi’ line from Rex.

everyone form the 212th and some 501st members were more traumatized by a bold Kenobi than the fact he faked his death to be a bounty hunter for a time period

kix has trouble staying warm after the cyro-freeze, like he’ll be bundled up in layers on tatooine

quinlan snuck into fox’s office once and was hit with a data pad on the head when he scared him and got himself a concussion, safe to say he doesn’t sneak up on fox anymore

clones have a sweet tooth

Once Hound got hurt while chasing a suspect and Grizzer went absolutely feral on the person who hurt him, it took Thorn and Stone just to separate him from the suspect, (fox and thire were just watching in shock as they helped hound)

padawans always use vents for travel (ex. Echo: where’s the commander. Fives casually: oh she’s in the vents. Echo: oh.. WHY IS SHE IN THE VENTS)

(Might be in the other one) The corrie guard have a bet everytime a battalion is on leave, the bet is: which members of what battalion will have the most in the drunk tank.

medics have to have a smex-ed meeting with every new shiny that boards

Bly (respectfully, cause he is a gentleman) asked Aayla to wear armor, the next day she was wearing Bly’s spare armor. Bly couldn’t stop blushing the whole day and it made his tattoos orange

When one or more of the Shebse squad is on leave, they bully fox into going to 79’s with them or to take care of himself. Safe to say, that whenever that happens the corrie guard can relax a bit

the most annoying patients for medics is any CO or jedis, all medics curse like sailors

when Kix was a medic shiny he hadn’t yet mastered the disapproval stare or the ‘shut the kark up and do what I say’ stare, so the vode listened to him just because it was so cute and funny, they quickly learned to stop thinking like that.

once after a battle Obi-Wan found Cody lying star fished on his back, he kicked a droid and broke his foot and collapsed once his foot gave out. Obi-wan just sighed, forced healed his foot a bit and carried him to the medics (Cody was turned into a sputtering and flustered mess)

Rex was already being corrupted by Skywalker’s tendencies when he was just a lieutenant in the 212th, Cody was horrified and wanted to bash his head into the wall.

Boil and Waxer secretly adopted Numa after Ryloth, each just co-parenting her

Kids on coruscant would sometimes come up to a guard member and hand them a paper of a drawing, ask for a hug, or just give them goodies. The guard now has a wall full of drawings given to them by kids in the barracks

the guard have stupid names for operations, it’s just a serious op about observing and trying to take down a drug ring (with vos’s help) and it has a name like “operation: too high to fly”

the cadets will hang off from any limb they can reach of their clone trainers and shaak ti

medics will lay on a cot with an injured clone on it to help them sleep, they’ll either be sleeping with them or doing data work

so yah… I’ll make more. Might make some of cod, fnaf , Dc, etc. as well and try to do art as well

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trooperst-3v3 · 7 months

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My Senator Weems costume is coming along pretty well. And the tooka I’ve adopted is being friendly with Pudge and Miu Miu.

Excellent!

Tell me: Does the tooka shed as much as the cats?

If not, maybe I can convince K8-T3 to hang out with that instead.

I love Pudge and Miu Miu, but Katie keeps bringing them to our quarters to play and my sofa is constantly covered in cat hair.

Soon, I'm going to have to find a vaccum droid to live with me full-time. And with all the other droids that already live in my room, I have no idea where it's gonna fit.

#st-3v3 #star wars #sequel trilogy #stormtrooper #reblog #captain phasma #halloween #costume #weems #wednesday #tooka #K8-T3 #pudge #miu miu #droids

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jedimasterbailey · 8 months

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Hey baby 😘 for the Jedi ask game I am going to focus on the most popular misunderstood Jedi that deserve all the love (sorry for the bombardment dear 🤣):

Mace: 14, 33, 41, 42

Luminara: 31, 34, 35, 45

Barriss: 30, 32, 36, 47

Mace 💜

14-How does Mace like to meditate?

I feel like Mace LOVES to mediate with others even though he can meditate alone just fine. He also comes off as plant guy to me, so I feel Mace’s favorite spot is in the Temple gardens with his Padawan Depa and later Caleb, but Mace wouldn’t turn anyone away, he would even let Anakin mediate with him if the man gave him a chance. Given his position within the Order and his fighting style (being able to channel dark side energy without giving into it), Mace is under a lot of stress at times so being around others be it loved ones or others, puts his mind and spirit at ease and I find that to be a beautiful thing. Most Jedi see Mace as an open and caring man instead of the intimidating Master others may see.

33-If Mace was able to survive Order 66, how would he live?

Mace would most definitely get the hell away from Coruscant as soon as he can and as far as he can. With all that’s happened, Mace would know he cannot take on the rising Empire alone especially wounded so he would need to flee and recoup somewhere safe until he can get back on his feet. I don’t believe he would return to his homeworld for obvious reasons, Mace would want to charter to some backwater planet where he can lay low and avoid Imperial attention. I don’t believe Mace would be want to be an active Jedi for a while because trauma, but he like Obi-Wan would do what he can to survive until he makes peace with what’s happened. I can see this going one of two ways. Either Mace lives a comfortable life of solitude helping out when he can or he could became a part of the Path and aid other surviving Jedi and Force sensitives in time of need, passing on his wisdom, possibly reuniting with Kanan in the process.

41-Is Mace more of a droid person or a critter person?

Mace seems to be a guy that’s all about life and with that comes critters. He would definitely be the dad that lets Depa bring in all the stray Tooka cats, birds, etc. because he enjoy taking care of things and being around animals help him relax like his plants.

42-What’s something Mace will never forget?

Okay I’m going to give a happy answer to this and a sad answer to this. I’ll start with the sad one to get it out of the way; I don’t believe Mace will ever forget the fact that if he had followed through in killing Dooku, that things could have ended differently. Maybe the Clone Wars would not have started that day and so many Jedi would still be alive. If you’ve ever read the Legends book “Shatterpoint”, you’d know that Mace constantly beats himself up over his decision to spare Dooku due to personal feelings. As for the happy one, I believe Mace could never forget all the milestones of his little girl (Depa) growing up from Padawan, to Knighthood, to making her a member of the Council, and to meeting his grand Padawan Caleb.

Luminara 💚

31-A Jedi Luminara looks up to the most?

Obi-Wan Kenobi 💙 I think Luminara would be in awe of someone who has dealt with so much tragedy in his life yet still chooses the light. Despite losing his Master and witnessing his death, taking on a Padawan when he wasn’t ready, losing his old flame, etc. Obi-Wan stays true to his Jedi ways and I believe that would inspire Luminara to do the same since she will inevitably deal with tragedy later. We don’t know anything about Luminara’s past, but given we don’t know who her Master was for sure, it’s safe to say that Luminara may have already faced grief and suffering in her past and perhaps leaned on Obi-Wan during those times only for her to return the favor. I would also say that Anakin isn’t far from being number one to her either since Luminara does openly praise him and trust him despite teasing him on his recklessness. I think she respects Anakin’s unorthodox way of thinking when she herself can’t think of another solution.

34-Luminara’s favorite food.

SWEETS! Luminara will never turn down a pastry, candy, etc. because she has the biggest sweet tooth and always has. You will always catch her eating a chocolate croissant or something with her morning coffee and she will always have her dessert after dinner. Barriss picks up on the habit as well because those two women need just has much sugar as they do caffeine to get through the days 😅

35-Luminara’s drink of choice.

A chai tea latte, hot or iced depending on the weather. Given the amount of stress Luminara is constantly under, she needs her caffeine (like Barriss only I headcanon her to be a huge coffee drinker) but she’s a classy lady that turns to tea more than coffee plus she loves some spice in her drink. Not to mention she can’t get drunk often so better to stay safe. Barriss knows that after a long day of work, that her Master loves to decompress with her chai and her Padawan will happily fetch that drink for her at the local space Starbucks anytime.

45-How was Luminara brought to the temple to become a Jedi?

I like to believe another Mirialan woman, possibly Master Katri (who I also headcanon to be Luminara’s Jedi Master) discovered baby Luminara on their homeworld of Mirial by chance as if the Force pulled them together. I also love the idea of Luminara possibly hailing from a very affluent family (like Dooku) or perhaps even Mirialan royalty of some sort but they happily give her to Katri as being a Jedi is a huge honor in Mirialan culture.

Barriss 💙

30-Her most embarrassing moment.

During a mission with Ahsoka and their respective Masters, Barriss gets caught by both Luminara and Anakin kissing Ahsoka in a closet or something. Anakin starts to laugh whilst Luminara is all stoic (even though she is trying so hard not to laugh and rub it in Barriss’s that she knew along) and is like “sorry to interrupt Padawan, carry on.” causing Barriss to blush real hard and almost faint this Ahsoka has to calm her down and reassure her everything is alright 🤣

32-Her thoughts on flying.

I don’t believe Barriss would have much of an opinion on flying. She can do it but she’s not obsessed with it nor does she hate it. To Barriss, flying is just getting from point A to point B and that’s that. She most definitely wouldn’t be pulling stunts like Anakin or Ahsoka because as a healer safety comes first 👍🏻

36-Her guilty pleasure.

Reality holotv, Barriss needs something to remind her that her life while traumatic and chaotic isn’t nearly as bad as others.

47-Her best quote.

I can’t remember which Medstar book it was but Barriss was explaining Jedi philosophy to one of the doctors she was working with and this particular quote made me love her all the more 💙

“A Jedi’s strength doesn’t come from her lightsaber but rather the strength of her heart.”

This quote has me feeling all the feelings for multiple reasons. One, it perfectly captures what it means to be a Jedi. It’s not about power, it’s about inner strength. Two, again with Barriss’s role as a teenage war hero and medic, she really does have to dig deep to find her courage in order to help people in disastrous situations. It’s not easy, but she does it and I find that kind of bravery beautiful. Three this quote just speaks to me on a personal level as I’ve dealt with plenty of traumas and tragedies in my real life but somehow I find a way through even when I want to give up. Barriss is an inspiration and she must have gotten that wisdom from somewhere either from Luminara herself or someone else in her Jedi family 💙💚

Original Jedi Ask Game Questions

#love you wife of mine 💚💙#devondeal 💚💙#barriss offee #obi wan kenobi #luminara unduli #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #mace windu #jedi ask game #star wars ask game #ask game #pro jedi #jedi #jedi order #star wars #the clone wars

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not-so-allegiant-general · 5 months

Text

GingerPilotWeek 2023

adopting a pet

Hux felt terrible on Ajan Kloss. He hated it there. Hated every second. Living in the jungle was not something he was used to. And the rain. It remained him of Arkanis. He usually hid himself far from people in the camp to actually do some work. He was siting on the ground now, as he heard some strange noises and moved closer to the trees looking there curiously. He heard a meow and looked down at ginger fur with red spots of blood.

"Hey…" He extended his arm. Cat brushed head on his fingers, meowing. "Hey beauty." He murmured looking closely "who did this to you? That looks awful." He picked a poor thing up carefully. "But i think you will be fine." He took the cat to his quarters. Wash it and took to medical. Doctors looked at him like he was mad but patched the cat with bacta and gave her anti-inflammatory shot. Hux took her to his room. Poe came in the afternoon looking for him.

"Hey. You've been at medical? Everything alright?"

"Pffaskin gossip mongers and animals abusers. That's what you are."

Poe raised his hands.

"Woah woah. Calm down. What's going on? What animals?" Hux glanced at him and raised blanket. " It's a tooka" he said dumbly.

"How did you guessed that?"

"Ow… Poor little sweetheart. What they said at medical?" Poe crouched down to have a better look. Hux relaxed a little.

"She will be fine. I named her Millicent. She is staying"

"Of course she is. Look at you. " He scratched cat's head. " You think that one of our people did this to her?"

"Well it was a knife cut. And big parts of her ear and tsil are missing. To clean to be made by a predator."

"Bastards." He huffed. "But she is under great care now" he smiled glancing at Hux.

"I demand investigation. I am not leaving it like that."

"Look Millicent what a devoted dad you gained. Alright. I can check cameras and talk to droids. But well don't have high hopes. They could do it in the forest as well…"

"I know." Hux sighed petting Millicent. She purred and laid down on his knees. Hux smiled brushing finger through her fur. Poe sat down next to him.

"How you doin Hux?" He smiled.

" Leave me." Poe sighed and nodded.

"Alright. I… I will go. But i will check on both of you tomorrow. Goodnight sweetheart." He petted Millicent and smiled to Hux. " Sleep well"

Hux watched him carefully when pilot exited.

"Do you think he truly cares?" Millicent meowed and stretched her back. "Well… I didn't think so, but he keeps haunting me. Every day. But i guess you are right… I guess i could try.."

Millicent purred brushing her head against his fingers. He smiled " No worries. I will take care of you. We are both strays. We have to keep up together." He scratched her.

They both found home. For Millicent, it was a warm morning in her humans bed. For Hux, it was waking up next to Poe Dameron every day, watching his steady breath and listening to his heartbeat.

And although it wasn't easy, and they all had scars it was worth trying.

#gingerpilotweek2023 #gingerpilot #millicent the cat #armitage hux #poe dameron #poe x hux #millicent

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sleepingsun501 · 1 year

Text

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

Taglist: @ariadnes-red-thread @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @wizardofrozz @moodymisty @ellichonkasaurusrex @ttzamara @nekotaetae @misogirl828 @wild-karrde @kaminocasey

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imperial-strategist · 7 months

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*steals a mouse droid and dresses it like a tooka before setting it loose again*

*rips off the furry covering and sends the mouse droid on its way*

If you want a real game of cat and mouse, cadet, you may be in for more than you bargained for.

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gaeasun · 8 months

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Ok I have watched both episodes of Ahsoka so gonna make a list of pros and cons. will be much more serious cons than serious pros. Not spoiler free!

pros first:

there is a very cute loth-cat. adorable. stole my heart. best live action tooka creature so far.

All or most of the human casting and portrayal was very spot on. Ryder was great and so nice to hear a familiar voice, Sabine was good, also chopper was spot on in everything.

actually all of the droids carried the humor for the episodes. very funny.

the lightsabers look and sound cool.

the non-lightsaber fight was good (and by that i mean sabine kicking around those droids)

SABINE DOES NOT HAVE THE FORCE THANK GOODNESS WAS REALLY WORRIED THERE

sabines art skills are relevant. love it.

yeah thats it i think. sry if you were here as an optimist.

Cons:

NO REX WHERE IS HE

they've got to stop stabbing people with lightsabers without killing them. star wars medicine was already inconsistent, this is pushing it.

where is jacen syndulla. If ahsoka is going to take an apprentice why not him? WHY SABINE THAT MAKES SO LITTLE SENSE.

yeah going on that again. she was training to be a jedi without force. BUT WHY. Sabine has always been a Mandalorian, shes been so proud and happy to be a Mandalorian. she literally threw that away to be a jedi. she hid her armor and grew out her hair and there was no mention of her Mandalorian family? the one she reconciled with?

the casting for hera and ahsoka is not good, the makeup and prosthetics are worse than that, but worst of all they do not actually sound like the characters at all! going into those in detail:

ahsoka and hera just do not have the face shape of their counterparts. i do get that it can be difficult since no one has anime eyes that big. but the face shapes look wrong and every time i look at them it doesnt look or feel like im watching beloved characters brought to life

the prosthetics and the makeup on hera and ahsoka look like either that department got a pittance or they just didnt care that much. even simple details that wouldn't effect stuntwork. like the circle patterns on Hera's lekku, or like how Hera's lips are much too dark and Ahsoka's are much too light. Ahsoka and heras head-tails are way to short as well. if you want to explain it with stunt reasons, than why are heras so short as well? also somehow there is zero texture on hera's lekku, but Ahsoka's look like an old rubber hose that shriveled up? and her montrals are so short and point backwards. if the people making this show are going to take such beloved characters and put them in irrevocable media, these details should have been figured out! if it wasnt feasible than they should never have made it live action in the first place.

the actors for ahsoka and hera do not sound like them. i dont mean their voices sound the exact same, but i mean the inflection and the wordings sound nothing like the animation. a good actor should try to mimic that but it wasnt done. ahsoka especially had such emphatic and varying tone in clone wars and rebels, while live action ahsoka sounds like shes trying to win the stoic master of the year award.

ahsoka apparently learned an entire new lightsaber style! because she only held her lightsabers in reverse grip one. time. and also when she was a kid she was flipping circles and cartwheeling and handspringing and theres none of that here. if yoda can do it in 2008 they can figure out a way for her to do it too

listen. ahsoka has gone through way too much character development to be constantly looking like she doesnt know what shes doing. shes struggling too much in fights, and she doesnt seem to understand sabine at all. she has been a very strong character in the past, and this is because she has gone through many experiences that gave her incredible development.

the plot does not make sense. how on earth does an ancient device know where thrawn went? why is this connected to the dathomirians? are they going to bother explaining this? probably not.

#honestly at this point im disappointed #if you're looking for good things theres not much here yet.#ill hold onto hope tho #because that is what star wars is about #g gives a thought #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka show #ahsoka show spoilers #if you have more pros by all means let me know ill edit them in

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questforgalas · 3 months

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Tags/Warnings: none

Words: 1.5k

Masterlist

For those who prefer Ao3

The objective was supposed to be simple: cut off the Separatist army's advance to the capital of Kaller by engaging them in a bottleneck at the mountain pass on the main road. Intel was solid, the Separatists were outnumbered, and the troopers of Jedi General Depa Billaba’s battalion could smell the victory before the LAATis landed.

Only one thing they couldn’t plan for: the desperation of the Separatist leadership. Cocky excitement soon gave way to frayed nerves as a never ending number of droid battalions marched through the mountain pass, unbothered by the bottleneck the Grand Army of the Republic forced them into, wiping out the front line before one full battalion was lost. Commander Gray assessed the field, relayed the new orders, and the lines were reformed, the clone troopers hanging onto their last tethers of hope as they volleyed back at the droids. Still, the droids’ rhythmic, savage march pushed them back.

Bravery is a powerful tool. Desperation is its master.

The call for reinforcements went out in the night, and the troopers dug to the deepest parts of their training, the deepest roots of their honor, to hold on against the onslaught. The dark hours turned light, and like the sun rising in the sky, the hope of every trooper emerged when the transmission came in that the reinforcements arrived and were en route to rendezvous. That almost an hour ago, and while the troopers dug in their trenches, popping fire, taking down any droid in their vision, more and more took the fallen droids places.

The clones were created for war and engineered for victory. Casualties were expected. Losses weren’t. However, facing down the metallic wall steadily marching towards them, Commander Gray offered up a small Mandoan prayer and prepared to raise his rifle until it couldn’t be picked up again.

Now, like most clone commanders, Gray was a practical man. He knew the Jedi believed in the force - believed that it worked and guided the universe in ways he didn’t bother to try and understand - and he knew that desperate words muttered under helmets did more for the mind than it did for the course of their fate, but as he watched a boulder fly down the mountainside perfectly in line with the first two rows of droids, he wondered for a moment if the force really could understand him.

The boulder crashed through the droids, leaving destroyed parts and dust in its wake before flying off the edge, and a laugh erupted from the trees, following the boulder’s path. A figure the size of an adolescent gundark bulldozed its way through the next line, moving at an impossible speed for its size. The figure grabbed a droid by the throat and swung it as if it weighed nothing more than a doll, taking out three more droids with it. The figure’s laugh could be heard above the commotion, shoulders shaking with the force of it, and then it was darting off to its next target.

This is Wrecker - A clone who never met an explosive he can’t hotwire and quivers at the idea of a stealth mission. A warrior brute whose most prized possession is the stuffed tooka doll his brother made when they were younglings. A demolition expert with a heart as gentle as a loth cat.

As Wrecker muscled his way through the next line, another figure followed from the shadows, ducking to the side in pursuit of a cluster of droids. Moving with graceful ease across muddied snow, they wove between enemy groupings without detection. At each cluster they pass, a single shock grenade is placed on the back of the central droid. All targets acquired, they stop and turn, thumb pressing down on a datapad resting comfortably in their hand. Two balls of sparks erupted, and at once, eight droids dropped. Content with their work, the trooper scanned the field, calculating his next attack.

This is Tech - a genius engineered for combat who prefers the solitude of tinkering on his ship. A skilled marksman who’d rather let his modified datapad be the one to shine in combat. A talented pilot whose skills can only be matched by the legendary Anakin Skywalker himself.

Mere seconds have passed since the boulder came through, and confusion takes hold of the enemy. The front line is in disarray from the holes Tech and Wrecker created, and the lesser standing B-1 battle droids begin to fall out of formation. Their heads are spinning, trying to recalculate as they wait for the next order.

Two shadows emerge from the tree line, taking advantage of the confusion, one dashing right and the other left, focusing on the droids now lost on the battlefield.

One prowls on the edge of the chaos like a predator picking prey. A vibroknife sitting in their hand with a familiarity that only thousands of hours of training can grant. Honed in on the separated droids, the shadow makes quick work of their remaining targets, droids meeting their fate before they can say “Roger, roger”.

This is Hunter - An enhanced tracker with the protective instinct of a Loth Wolf. He has no match in hand-to-hand combat, but he’ll find every angle to avoid a fight. The sergeant of his squad, he carries his brothers’ fates on his shoulders on every mission. Every decision. The weight a constant companion.

Where Hunter acts with stealth, his counterpart acts with force. Light on their cybernetic feet, there is nothing subtle about how they takes out the remainder of the front wave. Using their momentum, they put all their force behind their right arm, shoving a cybernetic scomp into a droid’s central system before spinning and shooting another two droids. Sparks fly as the droid short circuits and falls into the frozen mud, but the trooper is already onto the next, systematically eliminating.

This is Echo - A devastating special ops ARC who’d rather spend his time with his nose buried in a book. A trooper with a second chance at life who’s the first to put himself on the line. A brutal strategist carrying a bleeding heart.

The four troopers eliminate the front wave and pause to survey the damage around them, though it’s short lived. Four heads turn as more lines of droids emerge from the dust cloud. One droid raises its blaster, ready to fire, but before Hunter can issue the next order, a blaster bolt from the trees lands directly in the droid’s head. Instantly, another hits, and then another.

Seizing the opportunity, the squad sprints into the gap, but Hunter takes a moment to look up at the cliff overlooking the field. A figure crouches on the rock, protecting the squad’s backs so fiercely that they never bother to look over their shoulders. The sergeant gives a two fingered salute, smiling when he spots the gesture returned with a dramatic flare.

This is Crosshair - Not just any sniper. The sniper. An unbeatable marksman with no equal in all the galaxy. A trooper of few words, but when he does speak, his words are deadlier than his shot. A brother whose thorny exterior lies atop unending loyalty. The destructive combination of severe and unyielding.

Together, this is Clone Force 99. The Bad Batch. The greatest squad in the Grand Army of the Republic. Possibly of any army. Five unstoppable enhanced clones who never knew a mission they couldn’t complete. Stealth or demolition, retrieval or execution, there is no one even close. Five defects who stared into fate’s eyes and said, “Not today”. Five brothers with a bond forged through trials of rejection and experimentation. They only had each other, but that was all they needed. All the galaxy needed.

But unbeknownst to them, the galaxy was changing. On Coruscant, in the heart of the Republic, a hero falls, and a darkness wakes from a century of slumber.

Scattered across the galaxy, the commanders of the GAR receive a transmission. A cloaked figure utters three words.

In a blink, the Jedi order is gone, and an empire rises in place of the Republic.

The age of heroes has ended, and the Batch are thrown into a galaxy they do not understand. Forces out of their control cause a fissure between them, and they are helpless as they watch Crosshair fall into the grasp of the Empire. A year passes. Companions are gained. Standoffs pass. Offers are made. Four brothers mourn another still alive.

Crosshair is consumed by the darkness. Fear his master.

After a year of looking over their shoulders, the remaining Batch find their footing. One a liberator. The others civilians. The Empire’s claws far from reach. Until one day an encrypted file cracks open sealed fissures, and a brother tries to crawl from the abyss.

#tay writes #the bad batch #tbb #crosshair #hunter #wrecker #echo #tech #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb tech #divider by samspenandswords

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