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swtorpadawan · 2 months

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Chaos is a Ladder

Author’s Notes: The following story takes place on Hutta during Act III of the Class stories. I name-drop a lot of minor NPCs from the game, so I hope you’re into that sort of thing. Content warnings for references to off-camera extreme violence.

“Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them.” - Petyr Baelish, aka 'Littlefinger', HBO’s Game of Thrones, season 3, episode 6, "The Climb"

Loyalty on Hutta is a complicated thing. The woman who called herself Linh noted to herself in a detached moment of clarity, drawing her consciousness away from the nearby stench of death and the distant sounds of fighting.

Nominally, of course, everything on Hutta was controlled by the Hutts. Any attempts to wrest control of their adopted home world away from the Cartel over the centuries – either by the native Evocii or by the various rival crime lords and organizations that thrived on the nearby ‘Smuggler’s Moon’ of Nar Shaddaa – had been ruthlessly crushed.

But in practice, the Hutt Cartel ruled Hutta solely through fear.

And it was an effective and even a pragmatic fear, one that allowed a relatively small number of Hutts to each rule over their own private fiefdom, with the backing of countless guards, servants and slaves, aided by any number of semi-independent mercenaries and bounty hunters, and supported by a culture that ensured that however much Hutts might quarrel, fight and rage against each other, they always seemed to band together the moment the status quo of their world was challenged; even if one Hutt did fall, another would simply take their place or absorb their territory, with predictable consequences.

But it was still a control built on the foundation of fear nonetheless. Meaning that any loyalty anyone showed to the Hutts was an illusion, and that illusion was virtually everywhere.

Based on her own training and experiences, Linh had always suspected that the moment peoples’ fear of the Hutts was eclipsed by their fear of something else, those illusions would be dispelled, and those people would turn.

And that suspicion was now being confirmed as people were now turning on Suudaa Nem'ro, more popularly known as Nem’ro the Hutt, leader of the Nem’ro Clan and lord of the industrial town of Jiguuna.

It had all started less than an hour ago.

The unnamed Houk had shown up suddenly at the entrance of Nem’ro’s Palace, calling out the Hutt and bellowing a series of extraordinarily graphic and imaginative threats against Nem’ro’s person.

This had initially been little cause for concern to Linh and most of the other occupants of the palace at the time, who initially took this development for a rather convoluted suicide attempt. This Houk was clearly insane and was looking for a way to die.

Then Nem’ro’s guards had converged to intercept the intruder… and they had been the ones who started dying.

The amused indifference of the populace had turned to concern and then to fear.

Then the fear had turned to panic.

As the Houk made his way through the palace, killing anyone in his path in a merciless onslaught, everything had descended into chaos. Every second the Houk had spent viciously cleaving his way through defenders with his vibro-blade was a second where resistance seemed to melt away.

The panic had turned to rioting, as everyone’s immediate goals had shifted.

It wasn’t just the Houk’s doing, of course. Had all the guards, servants, hangers-on and guests in Nem’ro’s palace bravely united to stand against the assailant, they surely would have taken him down eventually.

Surely. Linh thought to herself in reassurance, even though she was not completely certain at all.

Many of the occupants of Nem’ro’s palace were perfectly willing enough to feign bravery when the odds were overwhelmingly in their favor and there was a chance for personal gain. But they were quick to turn and flee the moment that equation was in doubt.

No. This crisis was the result of people on Hutta fearing something else more than they feared a Hutt. The instant that happened, all bets were off. Tomorrow, or a year from now, a new equilibrium would inevitably reemerge, with some other Hutt in charge.

No one cared about that now.

The majority of these people simply wanted to survive today.

Far worse than these sheep were the many individuals in the palace and throughout Jiguuna who had instinctively started taking advantage of the chaos. Many saw the opportunity to finish old scores with a rival at a moment when they figured they could get away with it. One or two were petty enough to simply took the chance to mug some of the wealthier patrons of the lord of Jiguuna. A few even risked looting the treasures of the Hutt’s palace.

Fools. Linh thought to herself. She didn’t know how many of these opportunists had made it out of the palace, but she had to assume it wasn’t many. No amount of credits (or personal satisfaction) were worth your life.

Not when everything is falling into anarchy. Linh thought to herself.

She heard fighting – or rioting – in the distance. She counted herself lucky.

For her own part, by the time the intruder had stormed through the palace cantina, where Linh usually spent her days, she had wisely made herself scarce, slipping out into the streets of Jiguuna in the confusion as she gripped her hold-out blaster.

Linh was an observer. By training and inclination. Now she finally had a moment to reflect on what she had observed during her final moments in the palace. Most of it seemed irrelevant. Who was running. Who was fighting. Why was dying.

One thing she was certain of was that Nem’ro’s luck had finally run out.

At what seemed to have been the penultimate moment, only one of Nem’ro’s remaining lieutenants, Carnus, seemed willing to take up the challenge posed by his fellow Houk. The two had come to blows in the cantina, even while Nem’ro could be heard bellowing down the passageway in a panic for more of his guards to come to his side to defend his bulk, and offering outrageous rewards to whomever could end the threat to his life.

When even Carnus had fallen beneath the newcomer’s rampage, the writing on the wall had become clear: Nem’ro the Hutt was doomed. No one else would be willing to die for the Hutt. It was simply a matter of survival now, and who could run the fastest.

If the Lord of Jiguuna wasn’t already dead, he would be soon.

Still outside, cocooned in her moment of clarity, Linh realized that it was a fall that had been a long time coming. Things had seemed to be slowly deteriorating in Jiguuna for nearly two years.

It started with Karrels Javis. She decided.

He had been Nem’ro’s most capable and reliable lieutenant before he’d been killed. He was certainly capable of violence, but Javis had understood that violence was a tool and not philosophical approach to everyday life. He’d been pragmatic and reasonable, usually taking pains to avoid putting decisions to his boss when the Hutt’s temper was acting up.

Officially, Javis had met his end by an assassination team sent by Nem’ro’s rival, Voontara Fa'athra.

(Linh knew better than to believe that story.)

Nem’ro’s reprisals against Fa'athra’s supporters had been unprecedented even by Hutt levels. Armed with a data file retrieved from Voontara Fa'athra’s palace by the so-called ‘Red Blade’, there had been a bloodbath in Jiguuna with dozens of Fa'athra’s supposed sympathizers in the town purged on Nem’ro’s orders.

Still. Linh thought to herself. Despite his cold-bloodedness, the Blade she’d briefly met, that supposed pirate – with his cool, emerald eyes and chiseled jawline – had been capable. Very capable. He was just the sort of person I could have used to get off Hutta, now.

Unfortunately, he was far from here, on some job or another that she couldn’t even imagine.

It had taken weeks for the city to calm down.

Even after the dust had settled from the purges, and even after the victory celebrations Nem’ro had held when Fa’athra had fled Hutta in apparent defeat, there was a sullen air to the place. As if whatever little vitality Jiguuna could have claimed before had been sapped, and things were continuing purely on momentum.

Illustrating her point in fact, just a few weeks ago, Nem’ro had come down with a rare flesh-eating disease, placing the Hutt’s life – and his sizable bulk – in jeopardy. This development had led to considerable tension among the Hutt’s various lieutenants and supporters, as everyone jockeyed for position should Nem’ro ‘tragically’ pass away. There had been a number of killings, discreetly passed off as ‘isolated incidents’ by Nem’ro’s security, and Linh was fully convinced that there’d have been an outbreak of open infighting throughout the organization if it had lasted any longer.

Fortunately for what still counted for the status quo in Jiguuna – and for Nem’ro, personally – a Republic doctor had arrived one day at the palace before that came to pass, having heard of the Hutt’s plight. Linh had noted he’d been on ‘watch list’ for her true employer, as the man had previously worked for the Balmorran Resistance and had more recently been working with some upstart Jedi Knight running around the galaxy. This doctor apparently had enough pull to get an appointment with the Hutt, and within a few days, Nem’ro was on the road to recovery.

Even with Nem’ro cured, however, things had never quite gotten back to normal in Jiguuna. There was too much bad blood by then. Too much pressure on Nem’ro’s organization to produce refined fuel to cover his trade agreements with the Sith Empire. Too much lost inertia. Too many people with too many ‘what if’ thoughts.

It had been a powder keg. And the attacking Houk had lit the wick.

Now she was outside the palace, and the only person on Hutta who knew that her real name wasn’t Linh and that she wasn’t just a small-time private fence with a pretty face working out of Nem’ro’s cantina was lying dead at her feet.

Lycus Mattle had (officially) been a freelance hired gun in Jiguuna, occasionally taking jobs with Nem’ro’s gang. An older mercenary, he was respected enough that the local ruffians usually gave him a wide berth. He usually made a place for himself just outside the palace at the bazaar, should anyone seek to hire him.

He had also been, like Linh, an operative of Imperial Intelligence, and a subject of the Sith Empire.

And now he was dead, with multiple blaster wounds having caught him in the chest.

Linh also spotted a trio of slain Rodians lying nearby. She recalled them having visited the palace earlier that day, planning some scheme or another. Apparently when they had fled the carnage, they had decided that their best bet was to kill the lone, human gunman, take his weapons, and then to decide what to do next to get away from the carnage.

Lycus Mattle may have been old for being a supposed merc. (Truth, he was older still for being a field operative of Imperial Intelligence.) But he had taken all three of his attackers with him.

Linh found herself taking some small satisfaction from that fact. Over these last two years, the older agent had become a partner to her; part mentor, part confidante and part protector should anyone on Hutta ever give her too much trouble. She was glad he’d given better than he got.

But that didn’t change the reality that her only real ally – and her best chance of getting off Hutta alive – was now gone. Linh knew how to use her holdout blaster, and she’d received basic self-defense training. But she had no illusions as to how long she’d last in a deteriorating hellhole like Jiguuna, much less if she ran into that Houk.

She processed all of that as her fingertips gently lowered Lycus’ eyelids.

“You were a good partner, Lycus.” She whispered to herself, unexpectedly finding herself wiping a tear from her eye. “The best.”

‘Lycus’ hadn’t been his real name, of course, any more than ‘Linh’ had been hers. But in the two years she’d been on Hutta, it had been the only name she’d ever known him by. She didn’t know his real name and it was unlikely she ever would. ‘Lycus’ would have to do.

Now he was rotting in a trench on Hutta, and she didn’t even have the time to bury him properly.

Fortunately for her, she didn’t need Lycus to be alive to help her out of this predicament.

Linh looked around the plaza again to make sure the coast was clear.

She needn’t have worried about being observed. The whole area seemed completely abandoned. People had either fled for cover or had decided now was as good a time as any to engage in violence elsewhere in the town. Nem’ro may have been a ruthless crime lord, but as had been the case in the palace, his authority had also been the only thing holding some people back.

And that was gone now. She continued to hear the sounds of unrest in the distance. People were dying. But she didn’t have time to think about that.

Residing in the palace as she normally did, Linh could have been searched by Nem’ro’s security at any time. (Indeed, more than one visitor to the palace had found themselves wearing a slave collar for carrying around unauthorized contraband.) So it made sense for Lycus to keep their ‘sensitive equipment’.

Taking a deep breath, Linh carefully detached Lycus’ weapons harness and utility belt from his body and reached into his vest. A moment later, now holding his pass-key, Linh inserted it into her deceased partner’s holo-transmitter.

By itself, the equipment was mundane. Only a thorough inspection by a skilled engineer would have uncovered any anomalies in its manufacture.

Linh took off her necklace from inside her blouse and carefully snapped the pendant in two. She then held the now-exposed circuits against the power cell compartment of the holo-transmitter until they seamlessly slid into place, completing the circuit. After a few moments diode on the advice turned red.

Excellent. Linh smiled. The direct line was secure and would be all but untraceable.

“This is Infiltrator Ninety-nine.” Linh’s voice had changed, but she kept her voice low as she spoke into the transmitter. “Requesting immediate extraction. Confirmation Code Delta-Beta-Nine-Four. Please respond.”

With that, she exhaled. It was the first time in years that she’d used her own voice. An Imperial voice. It felt liberating, really.

A moment later, the holo display started to flicker.

She had expected a junior Watcher to pick up her communications signal at headquarters in Kaas City. Or perhaps – if the Watchers were hard-pressed with the war effort at the moment – a Minder or at least a Fixer. Following protocol, they would direct an Intelligence Asset Recovery Team to her aid, and get her off this cesspit of a world.

Instead, she saw only a rotating Imperial Insignia appear in the holo display, as an automated voice spoke.

“Attention all personnel: By the order of the Dark Council, Imperial Intelligence has been dissolved. Any and all ongoing operations are hereby terminated. You are ordered to immediately report to Dromund Kaas for reassignment to the Imperial Military. Long live the Emperor.”

The holo-display went dead.

Linh’s jaw dropped in shock.

No. she silently whispered to herself. Impossible. It couldn’t be true.

She attempted to toggle the call button again for a few futile moments.

Nothing.

Her free hand the nearby tent pole for support. If she hadn’t been crouched down, she’d probably have fallen over.

The implications of this announcement were staggering.

The Sith Empire was over a thousand years old. And Imperial Intelligence had been a part of it since the beginning, cleaning up the messes of the Sith and the Imperial military.

Oh, there had been purges of the service throughout that history. Usually due to some perceived operational failure or another. Occasionally a Minister of Intelligence would be “retired” and the powers that be would insist on “changes in personnel” to make way for the new regime.

But for the Empire to dissolve the service now at the peak of its war with the Galactic Republic…

Madness. She thought to herself. Without Imperial Intelligence, there would be chaos. Not just for the Empire, but with respect to her immediate situation.

Linh needed assistance just safely getting off Hutta, much less getting back to Dromund Kaas.

She’d been Informer-99 for the last three years. She had hoped to be promoted to ‘Minder’ someday, perhaps eventually serve as a station chief on some planet with a more enjoyable climate. (After spending so long on Hutta, Alderaan sounded positively divine.)

All her career goals were gone now. Dead as Lycus.

Dead as Imperial Intelligence. She thought to herself.

She felt her breathing start to become more rapid as she continued to process.

And what sort of future could she expect if she even made it back to the Imperial capital?

A career in the Imperial Military would be a dead end for her, and a waste of her talents. At best, she’d be stranded in some subordinate clerical position in the Ministry of Logistics, running statistical reports and fetching caff for her superiors.

At worse, she’d be pressed into an auxiliary combat battalion where all her intelligence would be wasted, and she’d be killed off in some useless battle or another.

No. She stopped herself. At worse, I’ll be indentured directly to one of the Sith.

She shivered at the thought, remembering all the stories she’d heard at the academy.

Nothing could be worse than that.

Linh felt her grip on the comm device tighten further.

The Empire had abandoned her. It was no longer home.

She felt a sense of panic start to grow. And then the anger of the injustice of it all.

No. She stopped herself again. That was what her instructors at the academy had trained her not to do.

Unlike Sith, operatives did not have the luxury of giving into their anger. Angry agents made mistakes, as did agents in a state of despair.

If she was to survive, she had to think clearly. She had to remain calm.

She had to remember her training.

After a moment, she felt her breathing relax and her brain started to work again.

First things first. Linh decided to herself, following her training.

Dealing with the immediate situation had to be her priority.

She dropped the holo-communicator on the ground and rose to her feet. Pulling out her holdout blaster, she pointed it at the discarded device.

Then she fired twice.

In a flash, the only physical evidence connecting her to Imperial Intelligence on Hutta had been destroyed in a smoking wreck.

Linh exhaled a breath she didn’t know she’d been keeping.

It feels cathartic. She allowed herself a grim smirk.

Next order of business.

I can’t stay on Hutta. Linh concluded. She’d seen enough conflict among the Hutts to know that sooner or later, and probably sooner, the Cartel would move in to fill the gap left by Nem’ro’s sudden ‘absence’. Once that happened, anyone still around who had even been in the palace at the time of the attack would either be shot on sight or they’d find themselves indentured and sent to the gas mines.

The Hutts did not take betrayal well. By their logic, every resident of Jiguuna should have sacrificed themselves to save Nem’ro. To show clemency to Nem’ro’s surviving supporters would only encourage dissent and disloyalty in other Hutt courts and territories.

She had to get away from the Houk, the Hutt Cartel and the Empire. If she were lucky, she and Lycus would be presumed dead in the paperwork. If not, she’d be a wanted renegade.

But first, she had to get off Hutta.

She had identified the problem. Now she needed to find a solution.

What are my assets? She continued following the steps of her training.

She regarded her holdout blaster.

Honestly, it had been no more than a deterrent in the Palace. Virtually anyone on Hutta would have outgunned her in a shootout, and if she did run into that Houk, it would count for nothing.

She had a few credits on her, but if people were already fleeing to the spaceport in a panic, she doubted those would be enough to get her anywhere.

Nothing drove up inflation like a life-or-death situation.

Thinking to herself, she dug through her hidden pockets and pulled out a thin piece of plastic. Carefully unpeeling a label, she regarding the revealed card.

Her backup identity. Not her identity as ‘Linh’, small-time criminal on Hutta. Nor her ‘real name’ she’d been born with in the Empire. But a new one entirely.

Jheeg – the local Arcona fixer who Intelligence had once worked with – had been killed after several security failures involving that business with the agent impersonating the Red Blade. (Linh had privately suspected that Lycus himself had done the job on Jheeg, though she could never prove it and she knew better than to ask.) Jheeg had once provided her and Lycus with backup cover identities if they ever needed to suddenly flee the planet. (Lycus had insisted on the precaution; he never really talked about what he’d done for Imperial Intelligence before this assignment, but it was now clear to her that he had been jaded by his career and was aware of the possibility of a situation such as this arising.)

The identity was still valid; or at least it’d be valid enough in a pinch. It wouldn’t have fooled a review by Imperial Intelligence, she was sure. But if Intelligence no longer existed, it just might fool the Empire.

Regardless, she could build a new life for herself.

But all that would have to start with getting off Hutta.

Her training kicked in again:

Who are my allies?

Rex Geer might have been persuaded to help her. He’d bought her a drink or two at the cantina, and she’d considered taking things further to cement a potentially valuable contact. But Nem’ro’s top street lieutenant – who had led the defense against Fa’athra’s incursion during their conflict – had been one of those killed during the unrest from Nem’ro’s illness a few weeks past.

Stabbed in the back in a back-alley. Linh recalled to herself, with regret. Like as not, his own men had killed him just for the prospect of a promotion.

Oren Ward would have been another potential ally. The bounty hunter had fostered a ‘school-boy crush’ on her, Linh knew. But he and Burnok had departed Hutta months ago for greener pastures after Oren had recovered from his carbonite imprisonment at Fa’athra’s palace.

She tried to think of another protector-type who might still be alive and willing to help her. She came up empty.

It doesn’t look good. Linh admitted to herself, as she tried to reconsider the situation.

In truth, obtaining the services of a ‘hero gunman’ to defend her was a secondary concern, even if having such a champion would have been reassuring. By now, she was convinced that the Houk could have torn through anyone she could think of if he spotted her, possibly even a Sith or a Jedi.

What she really needed was someone with the credits and the connections to get her through the spaceport and off-planet. If it was already locked down by the Cartel’s people, she’d need someone with Nem’ro’s security codes to get off-planet.

She smiled grimly to herself as a stroke of inspiration came to her mind.

Fortunately, Linh had realized that she knew of just the right person who could provide both.

Surprisingly, getting back into the palace had been a simple affair. Evidently, nearly everyone still capable of walking had already fled by now.

Linh knew she was taking a huge risk just coming back here, but she saw no other options. If her quarry was still alive, they’d be inside. As she made her way through the cantina, she tried not to pay any mind to the corpses she was stepping over. She’d known many of these people for the past two years, and while she personally found most of them unpleasant, she also knew that looking at their dead faces now could easily plunge her into a pit of despair.

None of that would help her.

She made her way down the corridor, holdout blaster drawn and at the ready.

Remember your training. Linh reminded herself for what felt like the tenth time. She was no true field operative. She’d known from the start at the Academy that she never be a Cipher agent. But she knew how to navigate a dangerous building. Certainly, one that she’d lived at for two years.

She carefully snuck past the receiving chamber to the throne room. She could hear sounds from within that didn’t sound remotely human or sentient, for that matter. Not ‘fighting’ sounds exactly, but…

No. she continued on. I won’t think about that.

As she finally approached her destination, hoping against hope that her target was still inside, she nearly tripped over some wreckage on the floor. Looking down, she recognized it as the remains of P8-47, the astromech droid that frequently acted as one of Nem’ro’s messengers.

The droid had been sweet to her on occasion, and she’d once considered recruiting him as a source. She’d discarded the idea, however; he’d been frightfully loyal to Nem’ro.

Pity. Linh steeled herself from the discovery as she continued down the hall into the next chamber, peeking around the corner.

Two Twi’leks were standing within, with the larger male gripping the younger female’s wrist violently.

“The credits, girl!” Toth'lazhen hissed, slapping the beleaguered woman across the cheek as she cried out.

One of Nem’ro’s senior lieutenants, Toth'lazhen had risen to pre-eminence after the death of Karrels Javis. His reputation for brutality had endeared himself to the Hutt.

Linh had been carefully studying Toth'lazhen for some time now as part of her duties to Imperial Intelligence. The Twi’lek lieutenant normally spoke in the perfect Huttese of his boss.

The fact that he was now speaking his native Twi'leki was telling. If nothing else, based on that fact alone, she’d know that Nem’ro was finished.

Linh had always assessed him as something of a fool and a brute. Today, she was seeing evidence to support that opinion.

Unfortunately, his present victim was the one she’d been seeking.

Juda was a young but highly intelligent green-skinned Twi’lek, unusually amiable for a resident of Nem’ro’s palace. For the past two years or so, she’d served as Nem’ro’s paymaster, taking over when his old accountant, an old human cyborg named Yalt, had made the mistake of going over to Fa’athra’s side.

(She did not want to think about the price Yalt had paid for that mistake. Juda had proven more reliable.)

Today, Linh had decided that Juda was her best chance of getting off Hutta.

Apparently, Toth'lazhen had decided the same thing.

“Please.” Juda cried out, struggling against his grasp. “Let me go! I’m just trying to get out of here.”

Toth'lazhen slapped the girl again as she cried out. Linh noted a bruise forming beneath Juda’s eye.

“You can run once I have Nem’ro’s money.” He snarled.

Part of Linh’s mind, trained for ruthless pragmatism, related to Toth'lazhen’s position. He was self-interested individually willing to do whatever it took to get off Hutta alive.

The same applies to me. Linh admitted.

On the other hand, he had turned his back to the doorway. And something about the way he was abusing Juda did not sit well with the suddenly unemployed Imperial operative.

His mistake.

Linh scowled, as the major domo raised his hand to strike the weeping girl again. Any thought of negotiating with Toth'lazhen had fled her mind.

The holdout blaster – set for silent mode – was relatively low-power. But she was less than five meters from the attacking Twi’lek, with more than enough time to put three rounds through his back.

If Toth'lazhen tried to scream out in pain, that scream was cutoff with the second round. The third was only for certainty’s sake.

Juda blinked in surprise as her attacker fell dead to the floor, looking up at her erstwhile rescuer.

The two women’s eyes met. Much to Linh’s surprise, as she gazed into the Twi’lek’s violet irises, she felt herself gulp.

Was it the adrenaline? The fact that Toth'lazhen was the first person she’d ever killed with her own hand? The look of gratitude in Juda’s pretty, violet eyes?

“Thank you.” The young Twi’lek whispered, falling back into her desk chair in relief. She held herself gingerly, slowly rocking back and forth.

Linh silently nodded, swallowing and lowering her blaster. Her throat felt dry. Whatever guilt she felt for killing the Twi’lek was being suppressed by the adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

“Toth'lazhen would have killed me.” Juda said quietly continued, swallowing. “Or worse, he would have sold me off to slavers. Before he even got off planet. The moment he had as much of Nem’ro’s money as he could get his hands on. When he didn’t need me anymore. That’s why I didn’t give into him.”

She looked away, sniffing.

“I’d have been a loose end.”

Loose end. Linh thought to herself. She herself was now a loose end to the Empire, her years of training and service amounting to nothing. She was on her way down; she had to find a way up. Who better to…

Out of the corner of her consciousness, she spotted Juda eyeballing the still-drawn blaster.

Jarred back to the present, Linh put away her weapon, calmly.

“I’m not Toth'lazhen.” She offered reassuringly, glancing down at the dead lieutenant. “If you can help me get off planet, maybe I can help you, too.”

Juda nodded, glancing over at a satchel on her desk.

“I can do that. I was right about to run for it myself when Toth found me.”

Linh tried processing the young woman’s reaction. With the immediate threat removed, her practical intelligence seemed to shine though. She found it refreshing. Inspiring, even.

“You don’t have anyone else here on Hutta?” Linh asked.

That question seemed to strike a nerve. The Twi’lek flinched, closing her eyes in pain as her body rocked back and forth again.

“My mother… passed away a couple of months ago.” Juda’s lip trembled. “Nem’ro didn’t even give me the day off to go to her funeral.”

Linh recalled that she hadn’t seen a family member in years. She had no way of knowing if her parents or brothers were even still alive by now. Nevertheless, she felt a wellspring of sympathy bubbling within her for the young Twi’lek.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured awkwardly. She quickly decided to change the subject. “So. You had a plan to get out? Or just sneak past the Houk?”

Juda took a breath as she gathered herself, gazing down at Toth'lazhen’s corpse absent-mindedly.

“There’s an underground tunnel.” She explained. “It runs along the old gas pipes beneath the town. The entrance is hidden behind the bar in the corner.”

Juda pointed. Linh recalled there was hardly a room in the palace that didn’t have its own bar.

“It comes out west of the palace, near the spaceport. Nem’ro never thought he’d need a way out of his own palace, but Karrels knew he might.”

The Twi’lek smirked.

“He had me budget the construction as ‘palace defenses’. Poor guy just never had the chance to make it out when his time came.”

Linh smiled appreciatively.

“So. That tunnel gets us to the port. Any ideas about what happens next?”

Juda returned the smile, clearly emboldened by the praise. The attractive Twi’lek had drawn plenty of looks since she’d started working at the palace. It was a good bet that up until today, few had been foolish enough to make a move on Nem’ro’s paymaster, especially not after what happened to his previous accountant.

Neither of us work here anymore. Linh thought to herself.

“I know Mekks, the communications officer at the spaceport.” Juda assured her. “He knows how the Cartel operates, and how to make it look like someone shot their way out of there without getting anyone killed… in return for a sizable bribe, of course.”

“Of course.” Linh found herself smiling sincerely for the first time in what felt like days. Fear and bribery were the only things that turned the gears on Hutta. “Then we just need to find a ride off-world.”

Juda’s smile widened, as she reached in and pulled a datapad out of her satchel. Linh could see a stack of pads along with credit sticks and a few strips of flimsi. Clearly, the Twi’lek had been preparing for this trip well.

“Nem’ro took possession of a small freighter last week.” Juda informed her. “Some smuggler who ditched his cargo from the Imperials.”

She bit her lip as she looked down at the records.

“I still have the access codes. And the license. By the time anyone checks, it’ll be legally ours.”

Linh let out an impressed whistle. This was more than she could have hoped for.

“Sounds like a plan.” The former Imperial operative felt everything start to fall into place. She smiled again to Juda but found the Twi’lek’s smile had suddenly grown cautious.

“And after that?” Juda asked, uncertainly.

Linh paused, remembering her earlier considerations concerning her own future. Assess potential resources. Her instructors had taught her.

To Nem’ro, Juda had been a competent, unambitious underling who always did what she was told.

To Toth'lazhen, Juda had been nothing but a source of quick credits, to be used and disposed of.

But to Linh, she could be much more.

“You know.” She began. “Between my connections, your financial skills, and Nem’ro’s credits… I think we have enough to start our own ‘consulting’ business. Look around the galaxy. Lots of people are going to need ‘special assistance’ setting up new operations for themselves with all this fallout. Conflict brings chaos. We’ve both seen that here today. But it also brings opportunity to people who know how to seize it.”

Even as she spoke, Linh felt herself gaining confidence in this plan of action. She’d need time to work out the details of course, but at least now she had a direction. Later, they could take on some hired muscle for security. Linh knew what to look for in a dependable mercenary so that she and Juda could avoid emergencies like this one in the future.

Linh finally extended an open hand towards the Twi’lek.

“Partners?” she asked.

Juda chewed her lip for a minute, regarding Linh and the offered hand.

The Twi’lek suddenly grasped Linh by the shoulders fiercely and leaned in. Juda’s lips met those of the former Informer of Imperial Intelligence, kissing her passionately. Linh felt her entire body go rigid with shock at the gesture.

It had been more than a year since she’d taken actual comfort in the touch of another, and Juda was certainly attractive. A warm feeling started to grow in the pit of her stomach.

She felt her lips and then her hands start to respond on impulse, surrendering herself to the sensation.

Juda suddenly pulled away as the stricken Imperial tried to regain her breath.

“For luck.” She offered by way of explanation, giving Linh a dazzling smile. She finally took Linh’s hand, giving it a friendly shake.

“Partners.” She declared.

Linh could only catch herself against the desk as she regained her footing and blink.

Definitely more than just a source of quick credits. She confirmed to herself.

Juda, meanwhile, had ducked behind the bar with her satchel over her shoulder. Pushing a crate and a rug out of the way, the woman opened the hidden trap door down to the tunnel, then looked back over at Linh.

“Come on.” The Twi’lek smiled. “That Houk might come poking around any minute.”

Linh swallowed and moved to comply.

As she followed Juda through the trap door and down into the escape tunnel, she felt confident she was taking the first step towards her future.

Time to climb the ladder.

THE END?

Author’s Notes: There are any number of corrupt and even ‘evil’ powers within the SWTOR story. As much as we might loathe them, it’s fascinating for me to think that if any of them suddenly weren’t there, the vacuum would make room for something even worse.

Those of you who have played the Bounty Hunter class story too many times will know from the Companion cut-scene dialogue that Skadge killed Nem’ro the Hutt off-screen, a revenge killing for an earlier betrayal that landed Skadge on Belsavis in the first place. The idea of Skadge successfully rampaging his way through Nem’ro’s palace, where we spend so much time as an Imperial Agent / Bounty Hunter at the start of the story, was fascinating to me. (How many of the NPC’s we interacted with earlier actually survived???) Skadge is probably my least favorite character in SWTOR, but the idea of him being the star boogey-man of a grisly horror film, slaughtering dozens of people, that concept intrigues me.

Each class has an NPC on their starting planet that provides a mission directing the player-character to the trainer on-planet. Linh is the NPC on Hutta that directs Imperial Agents to the on-planet trainer, Lycus Mattle. With the many changes in the game over the years, those missions are largely redundant, worth only a smidgen of XP. But some of those cutscene interactions were memorable to me, including Linh’s. I decided I had to do something with her at some point.

This story was the result.

Juda is another fun character from the Bounty Hunter story. She’s Nem’ro’s paymaster on Hutta, and later unwittingly engages in some minor skullduggery during the Great Hunt. Fortunately, my own bounty hunter, Xadya, chose not to hold her indiscretions against her. (Mako would not have approved if Xadya had taken Juda out!)

As always, I love the idea that our characters leave a deep mark on the places they visit, for good and for ill. Gahraath Vaiken, my Cipher Nine in the Halcyon Legacy, was rather vicious when he started out as an Imperial Agent on Hutta, a bit too eager to demonstrate his own ruthlessness. He’d eventually mellow a good deal, but at the time, Linh was both physically attracted to him while simultaneously left with the impression of a cold-blooded killer who would easily dispose of her if it suited his mission.

(Which he absolutely was. But like I said, he’s softened a good bit by the end of the class story.)

Virtually every name I dropped within this story is an actual NPC from the missions on Hutta. (And some of you may also have picked up on an appearance by a certain unnamed mustached field medic companion from another of the class stories. 🤓)

The ‘Informers’ title is, in fact, a specific canon designation within the old Imperial Intelligence organization, much like Ciphers, Watchers, Minders and Fixers. They aren’t mentioned in the game itself; they do come up in The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance novel where Ula Vii is presented as an example. Something we don’t talk about enough is the impact the dissolution of Imperial Intelligence would have on the Empire and the greater galaxy, especially at the peak of the war. You’re literally talking about hundreds or thousands of agents and operatives either completely cutoff from the Empire without recourse or suddenly pressed into the service of the Sith or to an Imperial Military that treats them like cannon-fodder. (Remember how Cipher Nine was treated on Corellia?) The fallout from that sudden absence would be profound for the Empire, as well. Imperial Intelligence literally existed for centuries, and nature abhors a vacuum.

No wonder Marr had to establish Sith Intelligence a few years later. Their entire system would have been in a perpetual state of collapse without it.

I tweaked the layout of the palace a little bit for narrative reasons. It’s significantly larger here, which makes sense given how many people seem to live there.

The Informer-Ninety-Nine moniker is an Easter Egg reference to “Get Smart”. (A show waaaay before my time. I’m old, but not that old.) It just tickled me, so I tossed that in.

The ‘For luck’ kiss is an obvious homage to the scene from Episode IV: A New Hope. (Don’t worry – Juda and Linh aren’t related. 😉 ) Further, Juda’s line about a smuggler’s freighter was a Han Solo & Jabba reference.

Tagging @oolathurman , as they once mentioned she loved the character of Juda.

Also tagging!

@a-master-procrastinator @anchanted-one @distressed-gizka @eorzeashan @justiceforc3po @kemendin @magicallulu7 @nikkeisimmer @sadiebwrites @the-cloudwatcher @the-raven-of-highever @tishinada @zabrakghoul @swtorhub

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nari-writes · 6 months

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What's a fic you want to write but are scared of?

Oh man. Aw man. I presume you mean something like "dang this is gonna be massive and I don't want to dive into it" but.

But.

This is a perfect excuse to segue into: I don't want to write this fic because I'll stick my foot in it. 'Cause of the relationship focus (PLATONIC!) that would just. The two factions of people who would see it would Both be angry/annoyed. Reading comprehension in this decade is horrendous. And I don't want to get death threats from people who won't read my explanation/won't get that I'm doing this for comedic purposes and ALSO as someone who ships a tiny-ass rarepair I do not want to engage in the....adjacent queerbait of "this is possibly an inherently romantic concept but I am playing it ENTIRELY straight"???

And then ALSO I don't ship them so I also don't want to fall into the trap of my OWN DANG SELF where I LOVE writing romantic drama and will potentially-possibly actually-accidentally turn it romantic simply because I love writing pining so much. It could be fun! I can see why their dynamic would be SO PAINFUL (and fun) to ship but I don't, but I know writing this WOULD MAKE ME want pinning involved. Because I love writing Romance. I'm a goddamn romance/fluff/plot author. It'd be there. A spectre. Haunting me. Cackling in a little :3c fashion. I know myself. I know myself. I will fail. I'm weak and the internal pressure of writing this would lead SO well to pining and then I'd probably get attached because I can justify so much so easily and when I write people stuck in romance-esque situations I make it Work for what I Like and I DON'T want to do that because I DON'T want to con myself into shipping this.

"what the fuck are you talking about Nari," you ask, "and why the hell are you adding so many disclaimers before you even go into the fic idea???"

So Dick Grayson gets married to the Red Hood.

(this is platonic) (BEAR WITH ME) (THIS IS PLATONIC)

1 x Bludhaven Cop finds out that he's gonna get called upon to testify against the Red Hood and due to some absolutely WILD Shenanigans that will never make more than a singular mention in the fic, the Bludhaven court currently is running around with Diana's lasso of truth and/or some other artifact that makes it LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE to lie on the stand. You WILL tell the truth. It is great for weeding out false confessions. The crooked cops and judges are incensed and trying to get rid of this thing ASAP but Dick has spent months trying to keep it safe and Still Working and he- he can't get rid of it.

And if Dick Grayson, Bludhaven Cop, current third witness in a case revolving around the Red Hood, gets on that stand...Oh Fuck He Knows So Many Red Hood Secrets. He 👏 knows 👏 so 👏 many 👏 secrets 👏

So Dick Grayson, Bludhaven Cop, sleep-deprived and panicking, goes: FUCK.

Well I can't be forced to testify against my spouse.

Jason howls when he hears what Dick has decided. He is absoLUTELY going along with this, this is the dumbest shit his brother has gotten himself into, how the FUCK is he gonna explain it to his co-workers. Jason is DELIGHTED at how stupid Dick is being. This man's a moron.

"oh I need to work within the confines of the law" YOU ARE A VIGILANTE, DICK, says Jason, cackling. Steal the damn thing!

BUT IT'S BEEN SO HELPFUL FOR THE COMMUNITY AND DECREASED FALSE ARRESTS, says Dick, so, so sleepy and so so emotional as a result. I CAN'T TAKE AWAY THEIR HOPE, JAY.

They do not have a ceremony. Jason grabs one of his lieutenants to act as signatory/witness and they go to the one branch of city hall that's in Crime Alley because Dick needs it done now and the case is in a week. There are three leaks in the ceiling. They are taking advantage of Jason's reputation to a) skip the line and waiting period and b) convince the magistrate to accept Jason's so incredibly fake ID:

(Chew. Chew. Pop.

Dick kinda wishes there was a polite way to say 'hey can you spit your gum out before it makes my brain explode from how not-seriously you're taking this super serious matter?' but he has a feeling something will get lost in translation, and the look on the registar's face is already deadpan and unimpressed.

Chew.

"And that's your legal name?" she asks, and the gum pops. Jason tilts his helmet, and Dick can imagine his grin; can hear it when Jason says,

"Definitely a legal one."

"You file your taxes under the name 'Red Hood'?" she inquires, her drawl filled with such a level of derision that Dick knows why she's chewing gum, now. It's to highlight how much she doesn't give a shit. Why is every resident of Crime Alley like this?

Her name tag says her name is Monica - Monica, like this is a normal day with a normal person! - and there are four people behind him with cellphones. There's a security guard behind them with a cellphone. He's not even calling the cops, he's definitely just recording them. Dick wants to vibrate out of his skin.

"Yep," says Jason, popping the p obnoxiously. "I'm an LLC, baby."

"Look, Monica," Dick says, shoving the bystanders out of his mind and giving her his most charming grin. "When secret identities come into play, getting married is a bit difficult. Dick Grayson is definitely dating the Red Hood-," holy shit he finally managed it without sinking into the depths of his 'how the fuck did we end up here???' self-spiral! "-which means if I want to marry him I have to marry the Red Hood. If I suddenly show up with some new, random husband that doesn't have this shiny primary-coloured helmet, isn't it going to be a bit weird?" And here's the part he can actually say with sincerity, even if, in this context, it'll mean something different- "I love him. I want to get married. But I need to protect him. Please?"

Monica looks at him. She looks at Jason. She pops her bubblegum, and then reaches for her stamp.

"Congratulations," she says, and slides the wedding certificate under the glass. "Enjoy domestic bliss.")

(We #loveMonica. She cares just barely about the legalities of marrying a crime boss and is Not Paid Enough to Deal With Anything Else).

Anyway, other things that occur that @midnightluck and I talked about, everyone say <3 <3 to Lucky for having the funniest goddamn words. Wildly out of order/messy/random humour things that occur (under readmore because this post is INSANELY long):

Precinct is Not Surprised by Officer Grayson revealing he has a partner, due to conversations like this:

(phone rings) "Grayson here. Wha--oh, hi. What? No, I didn't touch your book, you know I don't read your books. No, I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Chaucer, I just don't have the time-- can we. Can we not. Look, I don't know, maybe it's on the nightstand where you left it after that concussion last week? No, not the one with the grenade drawer, though we do need to talk about that, how do you go through so many so fast? No, I know that, that's why the spare room is your armory, I don't have a problem with that--yes, I know, but that doesn't mean-- ugh. You know what. No, I'm at work. This can wait. Uh huh. Uh huh. No, I want Thai. Thai. You owe me satay for this and you know it. What? Yes, we're still on the Robinson case; whatcha got for me? Uh huh. Uh huh. Really, them? Oh, I know that address, isn't that that warehouse where Timmy--yeah, haha, right? Oh, right? For sure. Let's get that picture printed; he'll hate it. Uh huh. Okay, gotta go, some of us have a day job--no one pays you to be a zombie, okay? Okay, see you at home. Bye."

Reasons why people think it is the Red Hood:

police officer Dick is doing a thing at work and suddenly! The Red Hood appears at his raid/bust/whatever! And he's all "drop the weapons or I'll get another duffle bag" and Dick goes, "Everyone chill a sec," pulls out his phone and is like, "Hey, Red Hood, are you in Blud right now?"

"No? You know I've got that thing at the harbour tonight. Why would I be in Blud?"

"Well, I've got a Red Hood and that's definitely your jacket and hood he's wearing, like, a couple iterations ago but it's yours. You piss off any magic users lately? Trip into any time slips? Dimensional mirrors?"

"No? Shit, when's he from, can you tell?"

"It's that jacket with the high collar, with the stain on the sleeve, you know the one? The red piping?"

"Huh. I haven't worn that one since two summers ago, so careful, he might be riding green?"

"Lemme check. One sec--hey! Mr Hood! How do you feel about Tim?"

"…Tim who?"

"…That's not me."

"That's not you. It's not a time dimensional thing, is it, mr Hood. You're just a copycat."

"I bet he found an old safe house, he stole my shit--Hey, asshole! Wait, am I on speaker? Put me on speaker. Hey, copycat! I want my stuff back! And I'm coming to get it!"

and later when the precinct has gotten sort-of-used to Dick Grayson "being married" to a vigilante:

Grayson and partner walk out the station doors and Red Hood descends upon them, gun out, gets right up in Dick's face and says "I swear to god Dickolas if you leave your wet towel on the ground one more time I will start washing it with peppers and make you regret everything."

2. The Precinct All So Fully Aware of Dick Grayson's secrets yeah man they all know it! Dick Grayson is....dating the Red Hood!

"Grayson? Yeah, he's dating the Red Hood, they're basically married--"

"W h a t, we are not--how--what--"

"oh shit, my bad man, y'all broke up? Sorry to hear it. Anyway, Grayson is the Red Hood's ex--"

"I'M NOT."

"-you're still together?"

"We were never together!"

(precinct decides to set up Officer Grayson and the Red Hood because OBVIOUSLY they've got a bond.png)

"you can encourage him away from crime, grayson!!!"

"I can't encourage him to do shit," dick grumbles, "i cant even get him to have a shower if he doesn't feel like it." (dick ignoring the times he has actively bullied jason into taking care of himself)

Every single not-dirty cop is just: no no of COURSE Grayson won't admit it. That's not fair! He loves being a cop. It must be so hard to balance justice with love.

3. married behaviour: Dick Grayson is Never Beating the Allegations

the Red Hood waltzing into the Blud police station all "here to see Grayson please--that way? (The guns are out but then he asks for Grayson and everyone's like oh shit yeah we wanna see this first hand) "Thanks. Dickiebird! Honey bun! Your forgot your lunch at home, puddin' pie!"

"…what."

"now, now, all these nice folks here have told me we're together, so we must be, mustn't we?"

"No?"

"Oh? You don't want your delicious lunch I handmade for you out of love?"

"…I…didn't say that…"

("Don't you love me?" Jason asks, and every single warning sign yells: this is a trap!! Dick contemplates burying his face in his hands.

"At work?" he says instead, wishing he could transplant his pain so Jason would stop finding such joy in his embarrassment.

"Oh, so you aren't bummed you forget your wonderful home cooked lunch at home? You're happy for me to turn around and take your lunchbox back home with me?"

Roll back- his what?

Jason smacks a bento box on his desk, the clear lid showing off tiny red sausages cut into mini replicas of Jason's helmet and tiny guns, and Dick chokes. Jason's face, he can imagine, is gleeful; his tone certainly gives it away. "And after I put in so much effort…"

"No, no, I love you," Dick says, lunging for the box and mentally discarding the stale coffee and sandwich made with slightly-off meat that he'd been planning to get from the cafeteria.)

Gives him the lunch, goes to kiss him on the head but with the helmet he just straight up bonks him painfully, waltzes out again. "See you later for dinner, sweetheart!"

"Sooo, Grayson…"

"can we arrest him? Why aren't we arresting him? He's super wanted, let's arrest him."

"Please, like we'd get involved in your domestic affairs"

Dick torn between Homemade food and god jay why are you doing this. Do you exist only to make him suffer. Why are you the most evil sibling.

The fake is the biggest one, the kickstart, because how would officer Grayson know that wasn't hood unless he knew the red hood well? - but then it's bits and pieces, that Dick doesn't even do consciously, and then Jay finding out and the Lunch Situation Dick gets called in by his captain and he's like no sir I swear sir it's not, I'm not-

I'm doing an undercover op

His captain, not buying that shit for a minute: uh-huh

Barbara: "okay but Deathstroke was bad enough, now you're going after the Red Hood? You've got a dangerous type, boy wonder"

"babs why are you doing this to me"

"don't pretend you don't know >:/"

babs hanging in the bludhaven office during Dick's lunchbreak and ABSOLUTELY supports more rumours. She's Dick's best friend!!! Of course SHE'D know about Dick's ~paramour~.

Dick is going to hide under his desk and Never Ever Come Out Again

His captain realising red hood is less violent when Grayson's on the scene and finally awkwardly is like "look….if it's because the Precinct isn't a safe space for you…"

"IF I REALLY WAS DATING A CRIMINAL IT SHOULDNT BE A SAFE SPACE."

so his co workers start working around it but then Dick gets into a situation where he'd Have to testify and he's like. Shit. and he goes NOPE SORRY CAN'T DO IT, CAN'T TESTIFY AGAINST MY SPOUSE WHO IS. THE RED HOOD. :) MY SPOUSE THE RED HOOD. (is dying)

Moment of quiet then "wait who won the pot? Was it Johnson? Mick, you owe me $20 personally--"

Jason is going to be insufferable.

But also yes, Dick getting wildly congratulated for "finally managing to put a ring on it" or some shit and he's like/ Don't put your head in your hands don't put your head in your hands, don't --

"So how'd you two meet?"

1: "he stole my dad's tires so we kidnapped him" (true)

2: "he attempted to kill my little brother and also my dad" (true)

3: "he saved me from a mugging?" (Embarrassing lie)

and you KNOW he has to say 3 tho, the other two may have come up earlier about Jason and he canNOT let anyone connect them

The bullpen dissolving into yelling as everyone tries to sort out bets. Dick being asked who/how popped the question.

4. Dick Grayson and "I was trying to infiltrate the dirty cops of the precinct but goddamnit being Red Hood's fiance has revealed there are so many of them- and now they're throwing me a stag party. great.

Dick trying to salvage any of his dignity: Red Hood proposed. He was very romantic about it. Read me Shakespeare. Threatened to maim my enemies. Very sweet

"awww.. it's really great that he's so enamored with you Grayson, you deserve it :))"

"and you stopped him at only maiming!!! Dude, nice!!"

"yep. That was his (grits teeth) proposal gift. No more killing."

Jason, busting into their apartment later: DID YOU TELL PEOPLE YOU WERE ENGAGED TO THE RED HOOD?

Except Jason busts in on a contingent of tipsy and delighted cops. Who are like oh!!! Grayson friend!! Celebrate with us!

Jason forcibly cuddled and celebrated with, trying to yell at dick in code: "YOU'RE MARRYING THE RED HOOD? ARE YOU CRAZY? WHAT ABOUT HIS REPUTATION."

Dick: "I CAN'T TESTIFY AGAINST HIM JAY. HE'S IMPORTANT TO ME."

Cop: "Wait you didn't tell your brother you were gonna have a wedding?!?"

"It was- it was a city hall thing! It's hard to be discreet- Hood didn't want witnesses-"

"Not gonna want witnesses for what happens next either," jason mumbles.

5. Tim Does Not Need to be Blackmailed into Humiliating Dick:

"Here to see Grayson please. That way? Thank you." (deep breath) "D--Dick?"

"Tim? Timmy, oh no, why are you crying, what's wrong, Tim, what--"

"How could you?"

"Little bird no, what did I do, Timmybird talk to me--"

"You're dating a supervillain? What if you get hurt??? Dick, this isn't like you!"

"...how much is he paying you."

"How could you think that of me!"

"Oh. What's he blackmailing you with?"

"I JUST WANT YOU TO BE CAREFUL," Tim howls, scrubbing his eyes and using his stupid babyface to great effect and Dick's gonna kill both of them

Dick finally get him to "calm down" and as they hug and say bye, Tim whispers, "if you think this isn't the funniest shit I've participated in all year you're out of your mind. Blackmail isn't required."

Dick, uncomfortably aware that Tim will help Jason stir the pot in cackling delight if he thinks something's funny, is not comforted by the fact that they're bonding. He is immediatly right, because he later finds pictures of himself drooling on Jason's shoulder, but they've been edited so Jason has on the hood. Several guys in the precinct think it's very sweet

("Aww I just thought Dick would like some family photos for his desk, y'know, officer John? Let him know we support him🥺")

6. Post-wedding wedding gift from the precinct:

"We had a whiparound for you, Grayson; here."

"…Uh. What."

"Well since you're with the Red Hood--"

"UH!?"

"--right, since you're totally not with the Red Hood and have no contact with vigilantes ever and James totally didn't see anyone crawl through your window the other night bleeding, we got you a good first aid kit. So you can learn and be a more supportive boyf--I mean. Just in case. First aid kits are a good staple of any mixed household :)"

Dick later delivering it: "Guys at the precinct got us a wedding present. It's a first aid kit."

"Oh? Cool, we're out of Oxy anyway, good timing--"

"it doesn't have Oxytocin in it, Jay, that's a controlled substance, they're cops!"

"Well then what use is it!"

"Its usefulness isn't the point! Anyway, they themed it."

"WAIT THEY DID WHAT" (immediately delighted and digging through the kit)

Someone has individually drawn tiny red hood helmets on the bandaids

A note like "eyo dick, washable red pen works rlly well if u wanna write notes to your beau on these too"

Jason cackles and puts a bandaid on his perfectly fine helmet because he's so charmed

Dick goes into work one day with a black eye, a small cut on his forehead, and a Red Hood bandaid over it. Jason has written a tiny message on the bandaid like "healing kisses applied".

One of the secretaries who works DV cases very worriedly and subtly approaches him but Dick just immediately says, "No I got mugged, he saved me"

"damn. You get mugged a lot in front of him huh-"

"Well I have that kinda face, I guess"

"good thing you've got someone to save you!"

"…Yes. It's a good thing I get saved. Yes indeed. Love it."

(gasp) "Is this a flirting thing???"

7. Dick Grayson Has a Type, don't you know?

Red Hood manages a short appearance with just the domino, not the hood, and he's dyed his hair temporarily red

(this backfires: Dick shamelessly takes the opportunity to glomp on and brag about his super smart so strong really amazing (little bro)

"he can bench me!! It's so cool! And he's so supportive when he does I feel so safe in his arms :)))"

"you're a loser and I'm gonna hurt you."

"and my enemies~")

8. FAMILY DINNER, BABY

Bruce: so. I heard something interesting the other day. The bludhaven Precinct got to celebrate an engagement

Dick: no

Bruce: congratulations, Dick

Jason, also lowkey dying bc he figured bruce would know but was also kinda not expecting him to bring it up in front of the WHOLE ENTIRE FAMILY

Bruce: I'm sure you've put plenty of thought into your....choice.

Dick: I'm going to self combust and then you won't have a son OR a dining room table. Is that what you want? Is that what you want, Bruce?

Bruce: I just wish you'd invited more family than just. Jason.

Dick: you're dead to me

Jason, mumbling: hey tbf I had to be there

Bruce: "I want you to know I support you, no matter what. Just because Red Hood is--"

Jason: "what, a vigilante? A zombie? A mass murderer? What am I, Bruce?"

Bruce: "--male, I don't see you any differently. You're my son, no matter who you love."

Bruce: I just wish- well, no, it was your choice. But I hope you know a private wedding won't get you out of wedding gifts.

Jason/Dick: nO

Bruce: I took the liberty of having them delivered already :)) And if you would- Just a small ceremony, in the backyard--it would mean a lot to Alfred, and to me--

Jason: OLD MAN WHAT DID YOU DO

Dick: there better be a return policy---

and because it's fucking Bruce he's absolutely using the excuse to get them So Much Fancy Bitch Shit

(And a dog 🐕)

Bruce: a home for a family :))) if you'd like. I know the Red Hood cares deeply for children. --and you know how I feel about your place in Blud, Dick, it's no place to start a family.

Dick: "Please don't tell me you bought us an apartment."

Bruce: "Don't be silly, boys. I bought the whole building. it'll give hood plenty of space to store his things away from the kids!"

Jason: what kids.

Bruce: well, I always presumed, from red hood's behaviour, he'd quite like a few children. Even just to foster.

Alfred coming out stone faced, "congratulations on your nuptials, master Dick. Felicitations."

Dick: "Not you too."

Alfred: Miss Gordon informed me.

Alfred, sounding disappointed as fuck: I'm glad I was informed by someone.

Jason: Bruce I'm absolutely gonna bury you

Bruce: may I meet my grandchildren first?

Bruce: Anyway that was Dick's present. Please give this to Mr Grayson-Hood--oh, did you not hyphenate? I assumed you would, apologies. It's full tuition to Blud U for however long he wants. Do give him my best wishes too.

And then Bruce just. So soft. "And please make sure he knows he's always welcome, if he'd like to join us for family dinners. No matter his profession or choices."

I feel like this line would be Way Too Much for Jason and he'd storm off tho 🥺 and Dick would have to go get him to Chill out.

"it's just Bruce. You know what he's like."

"Overbearing and insufferable?" Jason sneers, hands curled around his elbows, and being "married" has been awkward but at least it's finally started to mend the physical distance Jason's been keeping. Dick knows, when he slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and pulls him in close, that Jason isn't going to go stiff and angry.

"Hey. I have an idea on how to make you feel better," he says with a tease, and Jason grunts. "Okay, no, little wing hear me out. How are we gonna get divorced?"

#dick Grayson #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #batfam #batfam fic #fic ideas i probably won't write #ask aussie #aussie's anons #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #batdad #they have the emotional intelligence of a set of teaspoons <3 #anyway. 🤫 whaaaat me sending this ask to me own self so I have an excuse to talk about this au? you'll never know!#dick grayson & jason todd #nari is writing

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