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#swtor fan fiction
sullustangin · 3 days
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woke up to a fragment from the “The Man Who Lived for Tomorrow” freshly baked.
~~ ”Are you sure you want to do it like this?” Theron gestured between the two of them. “I look like a sleaze with a torn shirt, and … dancing girl outfits and blaster burns aren’t exactly bridal wear.”
Eva turned from the gangplank door, the ship’s light catching the glitter that had somehow survived with shocking resilience.. “Told you this … we don’t have to —“
“I want to,” Theron insisted, firmly. “But do you want something else? More?” Eva’s bare left shoulder rose in a shrug. “You’re here. The crew is here. I might cause Lana’s ulcer to strangulate or something if I called her now.” Then there was a short, humorless little “heh.” “And Rogun’s not here to give the wedding toast, but we sorta expected that….” An expression between humor and grief played across her face. “And then we became friends.”
The ship’s door opened and the sunlight of Aargonar flooded in. It was dawn.
Theron took Eva’s hand in his. They’d made it to dawn. Together. ~~
@vexa-legacy
@grandninjamasterren - this might have been stirred by your Traitor run
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bardic-tales · 2 years
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REFLECTIONS (SI X IA)
Novel: Fall of Darth Jadus
Pairing: m!SI (Darth Jadus / Darth Noktis) x f!IA (Cipher Nine / Cynthia Prescost)
Fandom: Star Wars
Word count: 2981
Warning: Suggestive languages and themes, Death of Main Character, Language, disturbing imagery. Minors DNI
Premise: Cipher Nine must come to terms with her Sith lover’s death, but she finds herself overwhelm by her other Sith companion.
Author’s Note: This idea has been floating around in my head since my husband and I both restarted our original characters. Some of it is taken from an RP that we were running in chat while we were questing.
It also takes place during the Heart of Terror Act for the Imperial Agent. We have decided that Adaki is using their Force bond and occasionally Force teleport to be with her physically. He is testing everyone’s loyalty, especially Cynthia’s. After all, she will be his Empress when he democratizes fear and tries to take the Emperor’s place.
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1.
The Empire had almost completed its grieving steps and Darth Jadus had been dead for several months before Cipher Nine only begun to understand the full weight of her grief.
Right after Darth Jadus’ death, she went into survival mode, not allowing herself to grieve properly. She had the Empire and its welfare to think about. Her grieving would have to wait. And wait it did.
She sat up in the darkened room and squinted against the blackness.
Nine wondered how she could feel the gap in her life that the Sith’s death left behind. She didn’t know the man long, but he left an impression upon her life that hardly anyone else had.
He just overcame the loss of his fiancée, too, she reminded herself. She didn’t openly weep when he told her the tragic tale of how his fiancée was taken from him and how he searched the entire galaxy for her. It affected Nine in a more subtle way.
While she and Jadus didn’t share a kiss or other similar intimacy, there was a warmth to their interactions. He once told her that he would not pursue a relationship with her until she was sure she understood the dangers of becoming involved with a Dark councilor. Jadus would not lose someone he cared for again.
After enough time in the darkened silence, she was able to fall back into her usual fitful sleep. There was nothing refreshing about it. That was when the dreams would come, her mind’s endless search for her one great tragedy.
The dreams were always the same. Jadus’ death would play over and over in her mind, though from a perspective she never had. She never witnessed his death, but in her dreams, he died right in front of her. The method was always different, but the result was always the same. She failed him.
Quickly, another of these nightmares overcame her. Jadus was standing before her, speaking, but she could not make out the words. Whatever it was, it seemed important, urgent, even.
Nine tried to cross the distance between them, but she couldn’t lift her feet. She took a step forward, trying to fight the resistance, and the distance between them grew. The flagship’s floor crumbled away. A tomblike silence immediately followed, as blinding, fiery stars twinkled around the sundered starship.
I’m only dreaming, she told herself, to wake up, but it didn’t work.
“You failed me, Cyn,” Jadus lamented, reaching for her in vain. “You failed me.”
“Jadus!” Nine cried out as she reached for him. She could almost touch him, almost brush his fingers with her own. This had been the end of her nightmares from the time he was lost to her. He continued to die in many ways. Each time was more gruesome than the last, but the end result was always the same. Nine couldn’t make it to him in time.
Blood seeped from a wound upon his chest and soaked his dark leather outer robe. It pooled within his gloves until it streamed off his finger tips into a widening pool upon the sundered ground.
Jadus dropped to his knees. The bottom of the lightsaber hilt attached to the belt looped around his waist clattered against steel flooring. He looked up at her. His metallic helmet glinted in the neon emergency light. The Klaxon alarm drowned out any other thoughts or sounds, except his voice repeating those terrible words once again. “You have failed me, Cynthia.”
Nine sat up in the blackened room. She blinked against the darkness and tried to get her bearings. Everything looked unfamiliar to her. Gone was the ruined starship, the gore, and her lover. The only thing that remained was the crushing weight of her failure.
Her heart raced, and it was the only sound she could hear in the night’s perpetual stillness. She was utterly alone.
The silence was suddenly broken by the cacophony of the door being caved into the room. It turned end over end until it smashed against the metallic dresser in the far corner of the room. Wires and cords dangled from the top of the metal door frame.
Adaki stood on the other side, his hand outstretched. The Zabrak had used the Force to gain entry into her room. He stood there, his carmine-colored chest glimmering in the naked golden fluorescent hallway light. Twin onyx stripes raced diagonally across his hips, and their pointed tips disappeared beneath the waistband of his loose-fitting raven trousers.
“What are you doing, Lord Adaki?” She hastily pulled the covers over her breasts, pinned the top of the blanket under her arms, and stared at the interloper.
“I heard you cry out?” he said as he stepped into the room, unable to hide the concern on his countenance for a fleeting moment. “Are you alright? What happened? Were you attacked?”
“It was a bad dream,” she said, almost laughing at the outrageousness of the situation. “Are you going to bash down my door every time I have a nightmare, my lord?”
“That sounded like no ordinary nightmare, and they are hardly harmless. Nightmares can cause great damage. A powerful Sith could attack you in your dreams.”
As she continued to press the sheet against her body, Nine turned away from him. She known he couldn’t sense her thoughts of feel her emotions. Most Sith couldn’t. Imperial Intelligence trained her well.
Not well enough, she relentlessly reminded herself. If someone hadn’t placed a block within her mind and dampened her connection to the Force, she would have been able to sense that there were two targets for the dissidents: one on Dromund Kaas and one above the planet, her lover’s star destroyer. Jadus’ words echoed in her mind. Nine failed.
“The Sith in my dreams cannot hurt me.” The skin bunched around her eyes as she stared at the wall. Wetness clung to her thick eyelashes. She blinked the tears away. “He’s only a ghost from my past.”
Adaki set down on the bed beside her. The plush mattress sunk beneath his heavy weight, and her body shifted towards him from the disturbance. His scent drifted to her, reminding her of desert trees mixed with blossoming flowers. The Zabrak’s cologne was like himself: powerful, intoxicating, and a bit sensual. It was the fragrance of desire.
“Was it Lord Jadus again?” The words were unusual spoken by him, coming from a Sith. There was almost a gentleness to his tone, but she knew how treacherous he could be. Since she had traveled with Adaki for a brief time before she met Jadus that first time, she knew he was a brutal man who discarded things like a person threw away trash.
With those doubts in her mind, it still took only a second to lower her defenses. The dream and its aftermath left her vulnerable. The knowledge she failed not only the Darth in charge of Imperial Intelligence but also the man she had come to love left raw, like a pat of butter stretched thinly across toast.
“It always is.” Nine dared not look at him. She swallowed the lump thickening in the back of her throat, but it wouldn’t go down easily. Nothing was ever easy now in the wake of Jadus’ death.
“You will discover the truth behind his assassination, Cyn. You are the best that Imperial Intelligence has to offer. You will unmask the conspirators and bring them all to justice.”
“Fuck justice,” Nine responded coldly. “I will bring them vengeance. I will make them suffer for what they have done. I will make them pay for robbing the galaxy of Jadus’ greatness.”
Adaki stared at her, apparently dumbstruck by her confession. His countenance took on a hungry expression, like he saw her with a renewed sense of passion. It was clear that she surprised him.
“You would make a wonderful Sith, my dear,” he purred. “If only you would let me train you.”
Jadus asked to do the same thing. He had told her that looking at her felt like he was staring into a font bubbling over with raw Force energy. She was a beautiful and terrifying person. That was what had attracted him to her.
Nine had never considered herself particularly unique. She was only a citizen working for the Empire and didn’t feel as if she had any connection with the Force. If she had, she surely would have felt something. And that, itself, had worried Jadus.
Was that the nature of a relationship that an Imperial had with a Sith? One or both of them would meet death. She understood any apprentice that Jadus had would eventually try to kill him. That was the reason that she had refused Jadus’ help, his offer to train her. Any training from any Sith would make her lose her sense of identity and would eventually pit herself against the one who trained her, in this case, the man she had loved.
It doesn’t matter. Nine didn’t kill Jadus, but he was still dead. She was still responsible. She should have anticipated it, should have known that the conspirators would go for the second most powerful Sith in the galaxy. The death of such a prestigious council member would be how she would make the Empire crumble if she were a terrorist.
“I don’t understand what you mean, my Lord.” Nine folded her arms around her chest, still pressing the thin sheet to her body. She felt naked and exposed as her bare shoulder brushed his own.
Adaki leaned forward and watched her. She swore she saw that emotion in his eyes before, but how could she? They briefly traveled together when she was given her first assignment by Imperial Intelligence. That was before Hutta and before she swore fealty to Darth Jadus. There was surely no romance or interest between them, as there wasn’t enough time for it to blossom.
“As I told Lord Jadus,” she said, “I’m nothing special. Nothing that would require training from a Sith of your magnitude, my lord.”
“I have told you before to call me Adaki. Pray, I do not ask again.”
“My Lo — Adaki, are you sure that is wise? People will gossip.”
That was not the only reason she was protesting. Darth Jadus had her call him by his name, too, so much so that he insisted on it much like the Zabrak was currently doing. It made their interactions seem personal and intimate.
If she would have known then what she knew now, she would have insisted on keeping things formal with him. Her heart wouldn’t have been split in twain, otherwise. He might have survived. He might have been at her side now …
“People gossip,” Adaki said. “That is what they do. It would be simpler to stop the sun from rising than to stop the common rabble and their incessant talking. I don’t waste time worrying about what people say behind my back, only I they venture to plotting against me. That is wholly unwise, however.”
“As you say, Adaki,” she conceded.
“You are wrong, you know?” he added. She glanced at him, confused.
“What do you mean.”
“You said you are nothing special. Nothing that a Sith of my magnitude should show interest in. You are wrong. There is something there, elusive, but it is there. You have some connection to the Force, that much is clear. I can feel that much, but it is muted. It is difficult to describe, almost like a limb that has been severed, the memory remains.”
“As you say, Adaki, but I still can’t feel it.”
The truth was that she didn’t feel anything he described. Even if what he said were true, Nine was sure that if she had any connection with the Force that would require training she would have shown talent. Still, she knew there was no sense in arguing with a Sith Lord. It would be a fruitless exercise as his decision was already decided; Adaki rarely changed his mind after that.
How do I know that? Nine thought. There was something more to their relationship, the familiar sensations lighting her memories, but the more she was around him, the more her thoughts felt cloudy, as if she were peering through the memory with a thin gauze of fabric covering the past.
Adaki raised his right hand, but she didn’t shrink away. Despite the fine hair lifting up on her arms, she didn’t sense any danger. He clutched her face and covered her mouth, left nostril, and chin in a tight grasp. His fingers bite into her flesh.
Nine still wasn’t afraid. She felt as if she had finally come home after being lost, as if something from a long distant past had finally clicked into place. It was strange to her that someone like Adaki felt the way he did. She never was led by her heart, always putting the Empire before her needs, but it didn’t make sense that two Sith Lords had made her question her loyalty to her obligations. This was unlike her.
Adaki stared into her eyes, and she looked back. His hand slid down her face until he gripped her chin and jawline, exposing her neck and lips to him. His gaze dropped to her mouth. A chill traveled up her spine, overshadowing any grief she may have felt. It was replaced by an urgent need, the desire burrowing itself within her mind, eclipsing everything else.
Kiss me. If she could have thought straight, she might have considered that maybe he was clouding her mind and guiding her emotions. She may have demanded he leave and allow her to mourn her fallen lover, the other Sith Lord who died from her failure. Instead, the only thing that Nine could think about was the Sith Lord sitting next to her. Once again, she silently pleaded for him to kiss her.
“I can.” He stared into her eyes as he spoke. “You should be able to to. You reach out for the Force, grasping at nothing instead. Constantly and fruitlessly, you try to catch it. You are unaware of this? You are. It is such power. It calls to me. It is … seductive.”
His words traveled through her like the clear note of a tuning fork. The only thing she could feel was desire. Maybe, that’s what he was talking about. She had no experience to draw on nor anything to really compare it to.
All she knew was that he was the opposite of what she knew a Sith should have been. He cared — at least, when it came to her. Adaki was the first one who rushed to her after Jadus’ death, offering to travel with her and lend his aid, and who was she to refuse him.
Her mind felt dull once again, but she wouldn’t look away from him. He commanded her full attention much like her lover did. There was so many things about Adaki that reminded her of Darth Jadus, and it made it easier for her to let her guard somewhat down with him.
He was exciting to her, a breath into a dismal imperial life. She couldn’t deny the way sparks seemed to fly when he stared in her eyes nor could she deny the guilt burrowing deep within her gut. Her other lover’s death was too recent for her, to fresh in her mind.
What should I do? Nine was quickly becoming overwhelmed.
“You have power over it, even if you don’t know.” He bent his head forward and his mouth hovered before hers, the black tattoos revealing to be a dark gray with a splash of crimson flesh from his lips. “You are also reaching out to me, beckoning me, trying to overwhelm my senses. You aren’t doing that intentionally?”
“Doing what intentionally?”
“Making me want you.” The words should have served as a sobering slap to the face, but it had quite the opposite effect. She narrowed her eyes at him, sizing him up like prey. Her tongue darted across her lower lip briefly as she looked him up and down.
“You want me?”
“Absolutely.”
There was one hitch in his plan. His entrance made it so they were not alone. The door still lay against the wall. Cables still hung down from the entrance way, revealing where the door once was.
It appeared that wouldn’t deter him. Adaki leaned down and brushed her mouth with his, a soft gesture that she thought she had imagined until he deepened the caress. His fingers glided along her jawline, up to the side of her face until he lost his hands within her mass of hair. He grasped the dark strands and tilted her head back.
His lips did not leave hers throughout the entire time. He nibbled at her bottom lip, pulling the flesh between his teeth, before letting it go.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she could taste his minty toothpaste he had used previously that evening. . She closed her eyes. This wasn’t what she had planned when they had both retired to their separate rooms that evening, but if she were honest with herself, this was what she had wanted from the time they departed her ship and hailed that first taxi to the promenade.
Adaki pulled away. His mouth shimmered with her saliva before he ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, still tasting her, but soon after that, he recomposed himself and she doubted that they even shared an sort of an embrace.
Nine was the first to speak. “Don’t stop.”
“There are more important matters to attend to, Cyn. Take that frustration you feel and use it to see to your revenge. Don’t let this cloud your purpose.”
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clevermird · 1 year
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Title: The Road to Coruscant
Prompt: Allies @shortfictionweeklychallenge
Rating: Teen
Characters: Feyte Saien (female Jedi Consular), Mallena Dayne, (female Republic Trooper), Eyrie Lancaster (female Jedi Knight), Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Aric Jorgan, Corso Riggs, T7-01, Qyzen Fess
Pairing(s): None
Four young women find themselves on a ship bound for Courscant. Each brings their own companion, their own mission, and their own past, but when the Sith Empire attacks their ship, they find themselves in an alliance, and their biggest problem isn't what they'll do when they reach their destination, but if they're going to reach it at all!  
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Mallena threw down the datapad in frustration. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate already! Now, Command was saying that not only would her armor be delayed again- as if running around a war zone in her jumpsuit wasn’t enough of an incentive to find a her some!- but the shuttle that would take them to Coruscant needed repairs. Instead, they would have to travel on The Esseles, a much slower transport.
Sergeant Jorgan looked at her curiously. Just keep your mouth shut, Mallena willed. After the shouting match they had on the way here, she was in no mood to explain herself to her former CO.
She checked her chrono. Their ride left in twenty minutes. “Time to go,” she said, grabbing her duffle bag and slinging her rifle over her shoulder. They threaded their way through the crowds on Citadel Station to the docking level.
Esseles’ passenger lounge wasn’t particularly crowded, so she dropped her bag on a couch and sat next to it, cradling her rifle in her lap. At least she might get a nap in during the trip. And it would save her an awkward shuttle ride alone with the sergeant.
She knew that at least part of the tension was her fault, but he had been the one to start it. Yeah, getting demoted and placed under the command of your former subordinate probably sucked, but she hadn’t been any more responsible for that than he’d been. She was sorry she had yelled at him, but he had to come apologize to her first.
Four more passengers entered the lounge and Mallena’s eyes widened. They didn’t say there would be Jedi on this trip.
She’d never seen a Jedi before, and she wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. One was a Mirialan, with rich green skin and neat geometric tattoos in a slightly darker tone on her cheeks. Despite her plain, practical outfit- leggings, boots, and a layered tunic in various shades of brown- and the lightsaber hilt that hung from her belt under a light robe, everything about her said “soft”. Gently curving features, large eyes, chin-length light brown hair, it all told Mallena that she probably preferred studying to sabers.
In contrast, her companion, though a tad shorter, was all trim muscles and sharp angles. She wore leggings and boots as well, but in place of a robe, she wore a short-sleeved overtunic wrapped at the waist. She must have injured her eyes, because they were covered with a small, close-fitted mask. Her short hair was steel grey and combed back from her face, though she couldn’t have been much older than Mallena herself.
The Mirialan said something to the Trandoshan next to her, a green-scaled hulk with a missing eye and several broken spikes. He (at least Mallena thought it was a he) growled in response. He wasn’t a Jedi, was he? He didn’t have a lightsaber. The other Jedi crossed the lounge and sat a few seats away from Mallena, leading an ancient astromech droid.
Not for the first time, Mallena wished they would hurry up and issue her new Havoc Squad armor already. When she had her helmet on, she could stare at people all she liked without them knowing. Well, maybe a Jedi still would. They could read your thoughts, couldn’t they? She hoped nothing embarrassing popped into her head in the next few hours.
The ship shuddered slightly as it entered hyperspace. Finally on their way.
A few minutes later, a pale blue Twi’lek wandered up. “Have you heard anything from the crew?”
“About what?”
“There’s talk that that the Empire’s going to break the Treaty of Coruscant and attack.”
“I didn’t hear, but it doesn’t surprise me.” Given what they had just scored with Havoc Squad, they probably thought the Republic was ripe for the taking.
The grey-haired Jedi stood and approached them. “They wouldn’t be that foolish. We control twice as many planets as they do. Their military might be stronger, but they wouldn’t have the resources to sustain a long-term war.”
“Still, if they were-“ Jorgan’s words were cut off by the familiar sound of an explosion. A second later, the ship rocked, throwing Mallena off balance. Grabbing her seat to keep from falling onto Jorgan, she reflexively searched for her rifle.
“What was that?” said the Twi’lek.
“I don’t know.” Mallena was starting to have a bad feeling about this whole situation.
The ship rocked again, and something hit the large door that separated the passenger lounge from the rest of the ship. The other Jedi and the Trandoshan jumped out of their seats. Another impact, and the door bent in a bit. Someone screamed.
Mallena didn’t wait to see any more. Shouting at Jorgan to follow her, she charged toward the door. It shuddered open and she paused just long enough to see that the intruder was a giant droid before she opened fire. The grey-haired Jedi slashed a leg off the droid as the Trandoshan and the astromech fought to keep its attention. Whatever her personal issues with Jorgan were, she had to admit he could work that autocannon pretty well. Blaster bolts from in front, behind, and around her rained down on the droid.
And then, almost before it had really started, the shooting stopped. Mallena blinked in the smoke and looked around. Most of the passengers were huddled behind tables and couches, but the twi’lek passenger from earlier approached them warily.
“Looks like the rumors were true,” said Mallena. A sense of heaviness settled over her. If the treaty was broken, that would mean all-out war couldn’t be far away.
“If the Imperials are trying to board the vessel, we have to get to the bridge and protect the captain,” said the Jedi.
“You’re right,” replied the passenger.
“Wait,” said the Mirialan. “Who’s going to protect them if more droids show up?” She pointed at the cowering civilians.
“I’ll do it. Hurry!”
Mallena wasn’t sure if one woman with a blaster and no apparent combat experience would be adequate, but there was no time to argue. She, the two Jedi, Jorgan, the Trandoshan, and the droid jogged down the hall. Around the first bend, she saw how the droid must have gotten in: a boarding tube.
“Wait up!” called a familiar voice. Mallena looked back. It was the Twi’lek freighter captain from Ord Mantel. What is she doing here? She wondered. The captain ran towards them, bright blue lekku bobbing. A human man with dreadlocks was behind her, carrying a rifle and wearing what looked like repainted Republic military armor. Mercenary? Co-pilot? Bodyguard? Boyfriend? No telling.
While they waited, Mallena took the opportunity to examine the boarding tube. It was designed with a pointed tip to penetrate the walls of the ship without causing decompression , then expand to allow the occupants to exit into the corridor. “Clever.”
“We might have to adopt that technology, sir,” said Jorgan. “It could be useful for high-risk insertions.”
“Maybe an atmospheric version for buildings too.” It was a good idea.
“What do you want?” said the grey-haired Jedi as the Twi’lek and the human caught up with the rest of the group.
“To help defend the ship, of course. You don’t think I’m just gonna sit in there and wait for the Imps to come to me, do you?” She grinned and tossed her lekku over her shoulder.
“Alright, let’s go.” The Jedi set off again. They encountered several more droids on their way to the nearest elevator, but nothing on the scale of the one that had attacked the lounge. Despite the danger she knew they were in, Mallena found herself feeling better about the situation than anything that had happened since she had joined Havoc Squad. This is how it’s supposed to be. We’re the good guys, they’re the bad guys, and we’re protecting innocent civilians.  
They piled into an elevator and stepped onto the bridge. Crew members worked frantically at their stations. Through the viewscreen, Mallena could see the Imperial cruiser that pursued them.
Another turbolaser blast rocked the ship and a console at the front of the bridge erupted into golden flames. As Mallena approached, she saw an officer hunched over a man’s body. “Captain? Come on Captain, you can make it.”
“Sir, he’s dead” said another officer. “You’re the captain now. Orders?”
The man- who must have been the ship’s first officer- threw up his hands. “I don’t know! The Imps took out our forward turbolasers, and our shields can’t take much more of this.”
Mallena had heard enough. She stepped forward. “Listen. Your men are counting on you, and I don’t care how hopeless it looks, you need to step up and lead.” She might get in trouble for that later, but they’d never survive this if no one was leading the ship.
The Mirialan Jedi put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. The Force is with us, and we’re here to help. What do you need?”
He took a deep breath. “Sorry, Master Jedi. I’m First Officer Haken.”
She bowed. “Jedi Feyte Saien and this is Qyzen Fess. And I’m not a master. I only just graduated from my apprenticeship, in fact.”
First Officer Haken cast a questioning look at the rest of the group.
“Lieutenant Dayne, sir.” Mallena saluted. I didn’t even get used to being a sergeant, and now a lieutenant.
Jorgan saluted as well. “Sargent Jorgan, sir.”
The other Jedi stood with her hands behind her back. “Jedi Lancaster. This is T7-01. What do the Imperials want?”
“We’re not sure,” replied Haken. “But there must be something on board they want. Otherwise why risk breaking the treaty?”
The twi’lek straightened up from where she’d been leaning on a console. “I’m Captain Jessasi Silver, and this is Corso.”
Haken ignored her. “I was thinking maybe the Jedi should-“
“Sir!” shouted a crew member from the lower section. “The Imperial ship is hailing us.”
“Let it through.”
The holodisplay on the com console flickered to life, displaying an image of a muscular man with dark hair. He wore a high-ranking Imperial officer’s uniform and looked insufferably arrogant to Mallena.
“This is Imperial Grand Moff Kilrun,” he said in a voic that confirmed her assessment. “We have reason to believe that your ship is carrying a fugitive from Imperial justice, an “Ambassador Vin Assara”. Let us have her, and your ship may leave in peace.” Yeah, right, thought Mallena.
“I’ve never heard of her,” said Haken.
“Hmm, lying, or just incompetent? No matter. My agents aboard the ship have confirmed the Ambassador’s presence. Surrender her, or I’ll be forced to destroy your ship.” The holoimage disappeared.
“Pleasant fellow isn’t he?” said Captain Silver.
Haken’s expression had turned steely. “I need you to help Commander Narlok repel the boarding party. They are not taking this ship.”
“Yes, sir!” Haken wasn’t technically in her chain of command, since he was Navy and she was Army, but under the circumstances, it didn’t matter much.
They found Commander Narlok, a loud-voiced Mon Cal, in what looked like some sort of empty storage room. “This is it, men!” he shouted. “Let’s make these Imps pay for attacking us.” The men – maybe half a dozen – shouted enthusiastically and Mallena joined in. She needed all the boost she could get.
The seal between the doors in front of them glowed. After a few tense seconds, they burst open, spilling men into the ship. “Surrender!” shouted their commander.
“Not a chance!” Mallena fired her rifle into the smoke. Dodging a shot, she continued firing in a spray pattern. Every time a soldier fell, another one took his place. She would have to stop and reload soon.
The grey-haired Jedi was a blur of blue and green lightsabers as she cut men down left and right. Still, they kept pouring through the opening. Five shots left. Four.
“How many are there?” she wondered aloud.
“No idea, sir,” replied Jorgan. Three shots. Two. One. Time to reload. Pulling another power pack out of her belt pouch, she dived behind a box. The spent pack was stuck. Why now? She looked up. An Imperial soldier stood over her, raising his blaster to fire. There was no way she could get her sidearm out in time.
He crumpled to the ground, triumphant expression still on his face. Mallena peeked out from the box and saw Jorgan swinging his cannon towards a new target.
A voice blared from the intercom. “This is the Ambassador. It was all a trap! The Imps have the bridge locked down.”
Mallena swore. They had to finish this. She got back on her feet and raced towards the boarding party, screaming at the top of her lungs. The first man fell, shot through the chest. The second was prepared, but a blaster bolt between the eyes stilled him too.
She pushed her way towards the doors. There they were. She pulled out a grenade, armed it, tossed it in.
Immediately, she dived away from the door, covering her head with her arms. The concussion rippled up her legs and broke on her back, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Her vision darkened.
When she looked up, Jedi Lancaster was pulling her lightsabers out of the last Imperial’s body and the Trandoshan was methodically checking the bodies for survivors. Mallena’s vision was fuzzy and her head spun when she tried to get up. Maybe she should just sit here for a few minutes.
Jorgan’s legs approached her. Squatting down, he met her eyes, his lips moving but inaudible over the ringing in her ears. She couldn’t read lips as well as she would have liked to, but she thought he was asking her if she was alright.
“I think I will be once I can hear again.”
“Are you sure? What’s your name and rank? How many fingers am I holding up?” The ringing was fading a bit now, and she could make out the words with a bit of concentration.
“Come on, Jorgan.” When he continued staring at her, she sighed. “My name is Lieutenant Dayne. And you’ve got three fingers.”
“Alright, that’s better.” He stood and offered her his hand.
She took it and let him pull her to her feet. She only felt mildly nauseous, so she must be getting better. “Thank you for shooting those Imps off me.”
“Just looking out for my CO, sir. I’m sure you would have done the same.”
She managed a grin. “Call me Mallena.”
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eorzeashan · 6 months
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once in awhile I like to imagine AUs where Eight isn't the Hand, but a former one who made way for the new Hand and instead found himself a different role as personal companion to Jadus and a proxy body he occasionally possesses in order to not show his face or have his real physical body out in the open while experiencing the world through Eight's eyes. Sometimes he acts as his messenger. Other times he's simply 'ferrying' the master around, as if his body were a mere vehicle for Jadus to ride in.
Eight is also, as far as others are concerned, the oddly cheerful servant who lives in his house and keeps checking on the new Hand, and it's hard to tell when it's Jadus or just him keeping an eye on the new personnel... as both are equally elusive in their own ways. Whether he offers helpful or cryptic advice not to be heeded lies entirely up to interpretation, but his allusions to his past are mysterious- and troubling.
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bentarb · 5 months
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For a long time I've toyed with the idea that my Sith characters in The Fenrir-verse might end up having to leave the Sith Empire and end up making their own order of Force Users. I've come up with a set of tenats that their order would follow, and I'd like some opinions on whether the tenats could be followed and still have it be an order of Darksiders.
Love can grant power as much as hate and is not to be dismissed.
Family is a treasure to be cherished and protected. Not a tool to used, nor a hindrance to be removed.
Relics, weapons, and armour of The Force belong to Force Users.
Weapons forged with The Force are not for practice. To draw them means intent to cause harm.
A weapon forged with The Force is an extension of the one who forged it. To alter it without consent, is an insult.
Knowledge kept hidden grows stagnant, and is forgotten. Knowledge shared amongst those able to use it, can be refined and perfected.
Study of The Force takes priority over any other discipline.
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starwarsandstuffs · 3 months
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First chapter of my new fanfiction in the SWTOR fandom (in French) around a breakup of a platonic relationship and the consequences linked to it. Includes the OC of a very dear author friend @introversiontherapy 🥰🥰🥰
I plan 6 chapters (maybe a little more) for this fanfiction.
And what is certain is that this will not be the only fanfiction that I will publish in 2024! 😈
About fanfiction
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Original Alien Character(s), Female Sith Inquisitor, Original Human Character(s), Male Sith Warrior, Darth Malgus, Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython.
Relationships: Original Sith Character(s) & Original Sith Character(s), Original Sith Character(s) & Darth Malgus, Original Sith Character(s) & Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython
Summary: Sofonisba, Sith Inquisitor, has lost a dear friend. Raxn, a Sith warrior, left overnight. This departure greatly torments the Twil'ek who, to escape her pain, puts herself in the service of Darth Malgus. But forgetting is not that easy. By fleeing, she only sinks deeper into depression to the point that Darth Malgus feels obligated to do something to help her. But it's hard to help someone when your whole thing revolves around the dark side of the Force... But maybe somewhere in the Galaxy there are more knowledgeable people on this subject.
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thelastenvoyyy · 1 year
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Guess who’s been plotting 50+ chapters for an epic SWTOR fanfic which talks about the collapse of the Sith Empire, has the majority of my Legacy come together, a ton of OC and NPC deaths, and at least three love dodecahedrons? ✋
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This is the master post for links to all the fics I've written. If it doesn't have a link I haven't posted it, and if it isn't listed it isn't drafted yet.
This is also so people can see what I've got on my desk. I kinda bounce around wips like a ping pong ball so... yeah. I'll update it as I get more drafted.
For specific genres of fics these are my other master posts.
Scifi
Star Wars
Horror
Fantasy
One shots
Spice
Kofi
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Clone Adoption Agency (Collab with @the-churroguy ) SF
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Balcony oneshot
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Cottagecore Sylvanas F
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Sith Acolytes (Collab with @the-churroguy ) SF
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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Warhammer oneshots (Collab with @the-churroguy ) SF
The Black horror
Wisteria tides
The rebel and the angel
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Blood and Tides (Collab with @the-churroguy ) F
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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CT-1313 Commander Ghoul oneshots (Collab with @cloned-eyes ) SF
Midnight Snacks
Marine life
Birthday cake
Recognition
Drinks and regrets
One room, two beds
Past and present
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The Tiny Town of Merin Falls (Amber Haze blog)
Part 1 (Intro)
The Attic
The Angel experiment
Halloween 2019
This is a fic I originally wrote to be an r/nosleep series, but the rules for that sub are a bit too constraining now, so I'm putting it out here. If anyone wants to do the in character version of it, i may make a character blog and update through there. But we'll see if it goes well.
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Mansion Madness (Collab with @the-churroguy )
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Gay Pasta Punks (Collab with @the-churroguy )
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Luck and Clover (Collab with @thereclusivedm)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Pokemon oneshots
The first steps
(big thanks to @saradika for creating some awesome dividers and headers go check out their master list!!)
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lonewolfel · 2 years
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Fictober 2022 Day 11
Prompt: 6 - "Adaptable, I like that."
Fandom: SWTOR
Rating: Gen
Relationships: N/A
Characters: Arcann, Major Jaqee Soti (Republic Trooper), Jorgan, Ciece Kal (Bounty Hunter), Mentioned Thexan, Mentioned Onorshash Haly (Jedi Consular), Mentioned Vaylin
As Arcann boarded the ship a feeling of dread washed over him. He knew that no one wanted anything to do with him in the Alliance, and it wasn't like he could blame them. He had tried to kill everyone here multiple times including his own family.
Now Arcann was on a ship full of them going on a mission to help defeat Vaylin. His own sister. He really couldn't blame Thexan for wanting to leave him. He truly was awful. 
The Alliance itself was interesting. At first, he had thought that it was simply a ragtag group of unorganized rebels. Then when the Alliance began to gain more victories he suspected that it was an organized machine. In some ways both of those were correct. 
The Alliance was organized with leaders that ran the show, but it wasn't like Zakuul. Everyone got a say there were discussions that often led to chaos. It made Arcann wonder how anything is ever done. Not that he has really seen them. He only has what Thexan and Onorshash would tell him.
Arcann was very much the pariah of the Alliance and it was as clear as day. The second that he entered the room all the people would go silent and glare at him. If looks could kill they would have killed him a thousand times over just in a day.
Now he was on a mission with those very people. Arcann had a feeling that they needed a sacrifice or were going to kill him, but Thexan trusted them not to so Arcann was going to go along. After all, he owed his twin that much at least.
The ship was bustling. The various crew members were going about their business trying to get everything for the mission prepared. They were so busy that they didn't even glare or notice him. Arcann continued to move forward to ensure that he was not blocking anyone's way. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.
"Arcann." Major Soti said from behind him. He turned around and looked at the small Mirilian woman. She was wearing her usual armor but it did nothing to stop Arcann from wondering how a small breeze doesn't knock her over. "Follow me."
With that, the alien bobbed and weaved through the mass of working bodies with an ease that Arcann couldn't in his wildest dream replicate. Finally, they reached the meeting area. There, there were a variety of people some of whom Arcann has never seen before. 
"Now that everyone  is here we can get started." Major Soti said
"According to our informant, the ship will be in a position in 2 standard republic hours." A male Cathar said. Major Soti nodded her head. Arcann tried to calculate how many hours and minutes it would be in Zakuulan time, but he quickly gave up. He had droids that had done it for him before so he never bothered to actually learn. Now he wished he had at the very least he could known when they will arrive.
"Correct, the area is pretty much dead space. No one but Zakuul uses this area making it pretty much unknown to the rest of the galaxy." Major Soti said. Arcann looked at the area. The info was right this was only used by Zakuul.
"And the Republic and Empire are too cowardly to explore." A cyborg said. Arcann looked them over and saw that most of the cybernetics were made using beskar. This likely meant they were a Mandalorian. 
"Something like that." Major Soti agreed reluctantly. "So we will be splitting up in groups of three. Jorgan you and your group will be attacking the lower deck and sabotaging as we go along. Ciece you and the rest of the Mandalorians are going to be attacking the upper level of the ship. You'll be hitting the armory. Make as much of a mess as possible. Me and Arcann will handle the bridge."
"Adaptable, I like that." The cyborg said. They grabbed their gun as if prepared to fire. 
"Major..." The Cathar started. Major Soti gave him a look.
"We've been over this Jorgan. I know what I am doing." Major Soti said. Jorgan looked as if he disagreed still but he backed down. "Now everyone get ready. We all need to be in position 30 standard minutes before we arrive. May the Force be with you." 
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a-shy-blueberry · 2 years
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Chapter Two: Just A Drink
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A/N: The smut starts in this chapter ;)
Fandom: Star Wars the Old Republic
Pairing: F! Cipher Nine x Theron Shan; F! Darth Nox x Lana Beniko
Genre: Romance, Action, Smut
Chapter Summary: A forced girls' night out leads to interesting entanglements when Nine meets a handsome gentleman in a red coat
Warnings: Swearing, SMUT, Oral Sex F! Receiving, Safe Sex
Word Count: 2.4k
Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
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Nar Shadaa
Two Months Later
“Kaliyo, I really don’t need to go out, I’ll be perfectly fine here, I even have plans.” she tried to plead. The Rattataki had shown up to her Nar Shadaa apartment, two bottles of some kind of swill she was always trying to get Nine to try in tow. And Nine knew her night was going to go awful.
Kaliyo looked her over with a smirk.
Nine hadn’t done much in the months following the Korriban incursion. Keeping her head down, she was torn through file after file looking for connections between the two attacks, sharing what she could with Lana.
“Ah got a hot date with a holo-novel and some knitting do we? Come on, we’re going out, I need a drink and you’re as close to fun as I’m going to get with these stiff imperial bastards.” 
She had a point, even if one of her crew went, it wasn’t as though anyone else would survive a night with her, and if someone didn’t supervise Kaliyo, chances were she’d start a terror cell or buy a casino. It also hadn’t helped that Nine hadn’t been out for fun since well before Arkous’s call.  
“Fine, I’ll go but, no Rodian Ale,” Nine said. 
Kaliyo slumped her shoulders and stuck out a pouty lip, “Aww, you’re no fun.”
“Barfing my guts out isn't fun!” Nine exclaimed.
“It's fun for me,” Kaliyo said with a smirk, and with that, Nine headed to her room to find something suitable for tonight.
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They arrived at the Slippery Slope without much incident. Kaliyo dressed in her usually long gray duster but, Nine had opted for a white long-sleeved shirt under a sleeveless black leather jumpsuit. The material left little to the imagination but, if things went sour, it wouldn’t weigh her down. 
Plus it would get her some free drinks. 
Kaliyo was quick to find her catch of the night and disappeared within ten minutes of arriving so Nine sat at the bar and ordered a Corellian Whiskey.  
The Cantina was relatively full, some new dancer apparently was performing but, the bar itself was decently empty. Two gentlemen sat on the end opposite her, one obviously scouting out the crowd, the other had his head down in his drink.  
Nine smiled, she could relate to that, it seemed like Kaliyo was always dragging her off somewhere to have fun only to leave her at the bar. At least it wasn’t one of those little holes she loved, where blood spilled more than beer, and the whole place smelled of rot. Nine shuddered at the memory completely engrossed in her own head.
“Tequila Sunrise for the lady,” the bartender slid the drink to her and continued, “Courtesy of the gentleman over there.” 
Nine looked up, peering at the blonde-haired man the bartender gestured to. 
It was the desperate man from the end of the bar, who began waving to her, then he started pointing to his friend who looked like he wanted to drown in his drink. Nine lifted her whiskey so they could see it, and threw it back. Then taking the drink of nightmares, she strolled to join them at the end of the bar. 
“I hate to say it but, I'm not really a sunrise kind of girl.” She handed her drink to the instigator with a look and followed, “I think this drink might suit you better.” With that, the quiet guy laughed.
“Careful Balker, I think she's got you figured out,” he teased. Balker gave him a look. 
“Well, well, I know when my efforts are in vain,” said Balker, waving his hand in an airy motion. “I'll just have to console myself with some other beautiful young lady,” with that he walked off leaving Nine alone with his compatriot. 
“I guess now would be the part where I would ask you to join me,” Nine looked at the man and weighed her options, granted it had been months since she'd even been close to getting any action, and he certainly was attractive, still something seemed off, but Nine brushed it aside as merely paranoia and took a seat next to him. “The name's Theron,” he said gruffly. 
“Oh, I'm Ni-...,” Shit she had slipped, covering quickly she finished, “Nila, you may call me Nila.” Theron shot her a raised brow and Nine hoped he would let it pass. 
“Okay Nila ,” he emphasized. “Would you care for a drink?” 
They talked for what seemed like hours, real talk, or at least as real as he could be with a total stranger, and as it grew late, Theron didn't want the night to end. He had found this woman to be utterly charming. He had been around operatives for a while now, many of the women in the SIS had displayed their ability to charm but, that always came off different from the real thing, with Nila it didn't have that edge.
She was utterly gorgeous, Her eyes were the color of Alderaanian skies. Her light brown hair cascaded down to her waist in gentle waves. Her lips were red but bare, as was most of her face. Thin silver cybernetic enhancements were adorned to her temples, which caught his notice. Her nose was small but it had a slight upturn that made her look youthful and innocent. He could have admired her face for days but, he had been a little distracted by her outfit. The fabric was a glossy leather that tightly her figure, showing off just how toned she was. As if that wasn't enough, the suit added a plunging neckline. Oh, my stars that bodysuit just about made his mouth water. Well, truthfully it did make his mouth water which is why he spent the better part of the night face down in his drink. It was as if she had been created to seduce.
Nine interrupted Theron's discreet observation “So… would you like to continue this over a cup of caf, perhaps at my place?” Theron looked at her slowly and swallowed hoping his voice would come out clear. 
“I wouldn't mind a cup of caf.” 
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 Nine was silently cursing the door to her apartment as she tried to jimmy it open, Theron's mouth was pressed into her neck as he tried loosening her shirt to expose her shoulder. When the shirt came free, he pressed a trail of kisses from her collar bone to her shoulder, oh my stars . It shouldn't feel this good yet. 
She threw her thigh against the door finally getting the door open. Now just to make it to the bed . She had turned back to Theron, hands intertwined in his hair, leading him towards the room. Sensing where to go, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted. Nine wrapped her legs around him and began to press soft kisses against his temple, making her way to his mouth. When she met her mark, she gently pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and felt the groan in his throat before she even heard it. 
Stumbling into the room, Theron laid her on the bed and they quickly started removing hers and his boots. Nine shrugged the sleeves off her bodysuit and carefully peeled it off of her leaving only a simple black bra, and thankfully black lace panties. Theron looked at her new state of dress and his eyes grew dark with lust.
Nine stood up off the bed and wrapped her hands around the lapels of his jacket. She pressed her lips to where his soft spot on his neck met his collarbone and moved up to his jawline. Keeping him distracted with her lips, she took his hand and moved it to cup her breast, Theron began rubbing the silken fabric of her bra with his thumb. When his hand moved towards the clasp of her bra she swatted it away. 
“I seem to be awfully underdressed in comparison here,” she teased in a singsong voice, allowing her hands to spread across his chest under his jacket. Theron got the message quickly, dropping his jacket on the chair beside them, he took her hands and wrapped them around the edge of his shirt. Nine lifted and bit her lip to avoid exclaiming out loud. The pale sinewy skin of his abdomen radiated heat under her fingertips and all she wanted to do was run her hands all over him. While she was distracted, Theron lifted his shirt over her head. Nine looked up to see hard shoulders and sculpted biceps, and with that, she let out a small whine. 
“Like what you see?” he teased. Nine’s face went flush. Theron grasped her hand and brought it to his chest, spreading her fingers so she could explore. Nine’s fingers traced the edges of his pecks, darting inwards to graze his nipples. Theron gasped. 
Nine moved her hands tracing the lines of his abdomen, as she grew closer to his belt her touch got lighter. When she reached the soft patch of skin in between the edge of his pants and his belly button, Theron had stopped breathing, the bulge of his cock was straining against his pants. Nine grasped his buckle, and after fumbling with it for a minute, she finally found the small button on the underside of the buckle and the belt came off. 
Theron pushed her onto the bed, dropping his pants as he approached her. His erection was plain as day through the thin fabric of his boxers, Nine’s mouth went dry. She wanted him inside her. 
“I’m not going to last long if you keep looking at me like that,” Theron said, his voice husky with lust. Nine realized she had been biting her lip and tried to control her expression. She sat up curling a hand behind his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips. Theron’s hands moved to her waist, then traveled upward to the clasp of her bra, waiting a moment, he looked at her for approval and she nodded. With a flick of his fingers, her clasp was undone leaving her breasts to pool into the loose bra. Theron removed one strap, and then the other, and Nine removed the arm that had been holding up her bust. When he looked at her his eyes darkened and he slowly ran his tongue over his lips, “May I?” he asked. 
Nine could barely choke out her reply. He started by cupping her breast, gently running a finger over her nipple, softly squeezing it, teasing it till it hardened. Then he brought it to his mouth and the cipher could no longer contain her pleasure. “Oh fuck,” she exclaimed, her voice breathy, elated by the sensations she was feeling. Theron brought his other hand to cup her unattended breast and began the same process again. Twirling her nipple between his fingers only to move in with gentle teeth, nipping, kissing, sucking. Her hands grasped for purchase, clinging to him as he drove her wild. “Theron, please,” she begged. Theron pried her hands free from him and laid her on the bed. He moved his mouth down, across her stomach, down to her thighs then rested there, gently kissing the insides of her thighs. 
“Does the lady have a request while I’m down here,” she could feel him smirking into her leg as his kissing darted closer to her cunt, only to move away. 
“Stars, Theron please,” she pleaded, and he pulled at the waist of her underwear, freeing her to him.  He carefully slid a finger into her folds, caressing the tip of her clit between his finger and thumb. When she had just about had too much, his tongue joined them. Nine’s fingers curled their way into his hair, trying in vain to hold on, Theron began to moan into her until she came, pleasure rocking her body into spasms. 
“Oh Nila, you’re drenched,” he said, licking his lips of the remains of her orgasm. Nine sat up still shaking and pulled his chin towards her bringing him into a sloppy kiss, the salty taste of her still fresh on his lips. Nine took his shoulders and flipped him so he was lying face-up on the bed. 
“Do you have a condom?” she asked. 
“Inner pocket of my jacket,” he said, and Nine lept off the bed to grab it. She returned grasping a synthskin condom, she unwrapped it and stuck two fingers in to begin the unfurling process, with her other hand she pulled down the waistband of his underwear drinking in the sight of his erection. She almost forgot what she was doing at the sight of him, he was thick, with the prettiest pink mushroom head that made her wanna bend over and suck him dry.
"Nila~," she shook her head, quickly putting on the condom and pulling off his boxers, straddling him between her legs. 
She hovered over him, letting her pussy slide over his cock, coating it in her juices. Over and over, the tip just catching against her hole but never angling herself for it to slide in. 
“Does the gentleman have a request while I’m here?” she teased a coy smile on her lips. 
“Oh fuck Nila,” he said. 
Nine smirked, “I don’t think that was a request.”
Theron gave her a pointed look, “Fuck. Me. Nila,” he said, enunciating every word, with that Nine lifted, grabbing his cock and lowering herself onto his shaft. Oh, my stars . Nine began to move, and Theron quickly followed moving together, slow at first but the pace increased as they both grew closer. “Oh Nila,” he gasped over and over, it wasn’t her name but, it was as close as he could get and the thought of his gasping Nine pleasured her immensely. 
“Theron,” she moaned lifting herself off of him only to bury the complete length of him inside her. She was on the edge, just a little more and she would finish. Theron looked like he was holding on so she pushed another full thrust, her fingers finding their way to her clit to apply just the right amount of pleasure, cumming so hard she saw stars, her own orgasm putting Theron over the edge and he sputtered into the condom. Both of them gently rocked against each other as waves of pleasure passed over them. 
When they both finished Nine dismounted. Theron got up, disposing of the condom and cleaning up before crawling back into bed. She laid there, wondering what to do next, would he leave? Should she ask him to stay? The scenarios rand through her head till Theron tugged her next to him and she nuzzled her head against his chest. It wasn’t long before she had drifted asleep, pleasantly encircled in his arms.
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Do not interact with 18+ works if you are under the age of 18, do not copy or repost my works, or share on other platforms. All characters belong to Bioware. Do not follow if you are under the age of 18 or do not have an age in your bio or if you have filled out the age verification form
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sullustangin · 1 month
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Fluffy February 2024 Master List
Huzzah! I wrote 29 things for Fluffy February (ok, 28 things plus one very fluffy chapter for my bigger fluffy fan fic).
Highlights: I developed my canon for both Lenn Teraan and Cole Cantarus. I wrote another Akaavi/Mako piece (someone needs to write them an epic Carbonite Years fic). I posted my most explicit work so far (is that a low light?). Dr. Oggurobb has decided to weigh in a lot lately.
I'll post the round up list, and then reblog with the AO3 link.
Snow -- 10 ATC - the smuggler crew lands on Alderaan
Eavesdrop -- 22 ATC -- Someone is spying in the cantina.
Entertain -- 21 ATC -- Theron and Eva do an intel drop at a casino.
Learn -- 10 ATC -- Eva learns how to dance from Lenn Teraan.
Planet -- 29 ATC (chronologically "now" in canon) -- Eva buys a planet. Because.
Fire -- 36 ATC -- Eva, Theron, and the big family on Odessen roast marshmallows.
Recovery -- 24 ATC -- Eva recovers from the Nathema Conspiracy. Risha makes sure of it. CW for untended anorexia.
Smile --over the years -- Theron's teeth may not be real, but his smiles are.
Storm -- 5 ATC -- Eva meets her first magnetic storm.
Care -- 21/22 ATC -- After Theron is injured, Eva makes sure he gets the care he needs.
Quest -- 39 ATC -- Theron and his band of adventurers... need to go to bed.
Discipline -- 40 BTC -- the Grand Admiral headcanon/backstory that's been rattling around.
Splurge -- 25 ATC -- Eva buys Theron a gift that isn't exactly what he wanted.
Free space! I added to Elysium, for a little while.
Craft -- Carbonite Years -- Akaavi knits something for Mako for the first time; in terms of the relationship, that's a big deal.
Spontaneous --- Theron and Eva rope Lana into one of their schemes.
Pleasure -- 22 ATC -- Eva speculates on some of the alternative universes in which she met Theron differently.
Pain -- sometime between 25 ATC and 29 ATC -- Bit of a kinky piece wherein Theron has his old scars replaced by Eva. This is Explicit for sexual activity, biting, bruising, and blood.
Shadow -- the legend of the Voidhound, from a child's perspective.
Partners -- 21 ATC -- A Theron/Eva heist fic, with their radio comms as cover
Reward -- 40 ATC -- Dr. Oggurobb finally retires... or so he thinks, thanks to Bowdaar.
Sacrifice -- 29 ATC (between patches 7.2 and 7.3) -- Theron sacrifices one of the few things to survive from his childhood. Eva is a pregnant person in this fic, so CW for that.
Dance - Eva dances with Jace Malcom. This is a continuation of an eventual post-Nathema fic about a party.
Apology -- 28 ATC (Between Elom and 7.3) -- Theron liberates Arcann from his job at a fast food join in Dromund Kaas by punching him in the face. No, I will not elaborate (I will totally elaborate).
Kiss -- 21 ATC -- Theron thinks about the his views on good morning kisses in the early days after Eva's return.
Rain -- 21 ATC -- Theron finds Eva out in the rain after Koth is worried about her. It's not as bad as it looks.
Protect -- 14 ATC -- Dr. Oggurobb meets the Voidhound on Makeb.
Shy -- 13 ATC -- Cole Cantarus becomes friends with benefits with Eva (she pays at the bar).
Fresh -- anytime after 23 ATC -- C2-N2 tries to start spring cleaning on Virtue's Thief. "Tries" is the operative word here.
Taglist
@fluffyfebruary, @ayresis, @starlightcleric, @ermingarden, @blueburds-but-swtor, @vihola, @commanderlurker, @sarpndo, @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond, @vexa-legacy, @grandninjamasterren
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bardic-tales · 1 year
Text
Searching (SI x IA)
Novel: Fall of Darth Jadus
Pairing: m!SI (Darth Jadus / Darth Noktis) x f!IA (Cipher Nine / Cynthia Prescost)
Fandom: Star Wars, The Old Republic
Word count: 881
Warning: Slavery. Implied Rape. Implied Torture. Minors DNI
Premise: Cynthia Prescost must come to terms with the tragedy in her life, but she finds it may be easier if she were to just disappear.
Tag List: @arrthurpendragon @perasperaadastrawriting @starryeyes2000
If you would like to to be on my tag list for notifications on my fan fiction, please let me know. If you wish to be taken off this taglist, feel free to tell me!
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“If I ran away, would anyone search for me?” Cynthia Prescost said as she looked up into her companion’s eerie gaze. As if he had just drank sour milk, the Sith Lord frowned.
It’s the truth. How many times had she just wanted to get away? She almost lost her will to live when she learned that any memories that she had of Leon were planted within her.
Her companion had once compared what happened to her as being raped, as she had her memories forcibly taken from her and replaced with a version that was not true.
He was right. What happened to Cynthia was a violation. Everyone she knew brutalized her, and then she had any remembrance erased. It wasn’t the first these people ripped happiness from her life. Whether it was her unborn child or time spent with a loved one, nothing was sacred to those who held her leash.
It doesn’t matter to me if Leon is not real, Cynthia thought,as it hurts either way. Knowing Leon’s memory was superimposed over an Iridonian Sith Lord’s couldn’t change the feelings that she had or the warmth and passionate heat that she remembered. Leon was the man she loved, not the Sith Lord whom the Dark Council and Imperial Intelligence tried to replace.
When it was revealed that her memories of Leon were false, it felt as if Imperial Intelligence and the Sith pulled a rug from beneath her feet. She couldn’t accept that every memory she had was truly about the one who oversaw Imperial Intelligence and her career, the mysterious Darth Jadus. Did he know what was going to happen? Was that why he sent her away when Harkun contacted him to discuss how Jadus’ son was advancing in the Sith Academy?
No. Cynthia could see no reason for a deception such as that, except a niggling doubt planted itself inside her mind. He took over and molded Imperial Intelligence into his vision. Was it all for his ambitions?
“It matters little in the grand scheme of things, Cyn.” He grasped a crystal wine glass by its stem, lifted it to his mouth, and drank before he spoke next. “You cannot flee from your destiny. Your fate is to be by my side.”
Is that even my fate? Certainly, she wanted to flee after the events occurring with Hunter and his men. It would have been easy to just disappear into the Galaxy, but this Darth — the one who called her his Tai’Shan, his mate, and his Hand — would not allow such a decision.
Darth Jadus, or as Darth Noktis as he went by presently, was instrumental in her healing. He never pressed her for physical affection after her time on Corellia. She would recoil from any touching her.
After she told him what had happened, he comforted her by revealing that he knew how she felt. While she shied away from any affection, he threw himself into his trauma and hoped to bury what happened between his ex-wife and him on Iridonia. His pain fueled his drive, seeing him through the trials on Korriban.
I’m not as strong as he is. It would be easier for Cynthia if she just walked away from the life she knew.
It, however, would not be as easy as up and leaving. As an agent, Imperial Intelligence would send out an official statement to other agencies, stating that she, as an asset, would be unreliable and must be disavowed.  
It had happened to her before. Once Hunter had revealed her identity, Imperial Intelligence declared her a liability. They paired her with a Sith who was not Darth Jadus.
Unbeknown to her, Imperial Intelligence and the Dark Council had ordered a hit out on her, sending a group of assassins unaffiliated with the Empire to do their dirty work. It would seem that sending their own to kill a co-worker would lower morale.
What happened to the rogue force-users? It was a question that had plagued Cynthia since. They were to strike after the Cipher Agent dealt with Hunter, erasing her from every known agency as they had done before. She was sure that those force-sensitives planned a horrific death for her.
It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Darth Jadus disappeared around the time the monastery burnt to the ground and all that dwelt within perished.
In the end, that was all it amounted to. The priests and assassins had obviously made many enemies, among Imperials and Sith, alike.
It turned out that being the Hand of Jadus amounted to nothing, as he disappeared when she needed him the most. How could she relay on such a person? She couldn’t. No one wanted her. Not even this man who professed to love her. This was her truth, the one constant in Cynthia’s life that remained the same.
“What if my destiny is to be forgotten?” Her gaze flitted around the room. She found it impossible to look at him.
“Then,” he said, “my destiny would be to find you once again. I would scour the entire galaxy if need be. I would sacrifice lives and shake the very foundations of the Empire to reveal your location.
“I have done so before. I would do it again.”
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clevermird · 1 year
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Chapter two is up!
Title: The Road to Coruscant
Prompt: Allies @shortfictionweeklychallenge
Rating: Teen
Characters: Feyte Saien (female Jedi Consular), Mallena Dayne, (female Republic Trooper), Eyrie Lancaster (female Jedi Knight), Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Aric Jorgan, Corso Riggs, T7-01, Qyzen Fess
Pairing(s): None
Four young women find themselves on a ship bound for Courscant. Each brings their own companion, their own mission, and their own past, but when the Sith Empire attacks their ship, they find themselves in an alliance, and their biggest problem isn't what they'll do when they reach their destination, but if they're going to reach it at all!  
After repelling a boarding party with her new allies, Feyte finds herself meeting a hero - and learning why you never do that
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Feyte looked around. Bodies lie scattered around the opening that the Imperial boarding party had blown in the door and she reached out with the Force to check for signs of life. None. “Qyzen?” she called over the hubbub.
The Trandoshan hurried back to her. “What is wrong, Herald?”
“I just wanted to check if you were hurt.”
“Scorekeeper is with us. I have no injury.”
“Good.” Feyte looked around. One of the soldiers from Commander Narlok’s group had been shot, if she remembered the chaotic firefight correctly. There he was, lying on the floor near some crates, another man bent over him. She hurried over.
“Is he alright?” she asked as she approached. He didn’t look alright. A blaster bolt had charred a hole in his shoulder that wept clear fluid. Sweat ran down his pain-contorted face and he was biting his lip.
“A med team’s on the way, ma’am,” replied his companion.
Feyte squatted down next to the wounded man, wishing she hadn’t left most of her things in the passenger lounge. “May I?” He nodded and she laid her hands on his chest, near but not on the wound. His beating heart pulsed under her fingers. Now, how did Master Yuon teach me to do it?
Closing her eyes, she let the Force swirled through her, flowing down her arms and through her fingers into his body. “Just relax,” she murmured, more to herself than him.
“Feyte? Come over here, you need to hear this.” Eyrie’s voice.
She opened her eyes. The man was staring at her, but he at least looked a little less haggard. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.” Getting to her feet, she joined the group that had gathered around Commander Narlok. The Twi’lek from the lounge stood next to him, looking worried.
“Go on,” Eyrie said.
“As soon as the attack started, Mandolorian commandos from the Imperial ship stormed the bridge and took the crew hostage. They’ve got everything locked down; you can’t even get up there.”
One of the soldiers who had come with them – Lieutenant Dayne, if Feyte remembered right – stroked her chin. “There should be some way to override the lockdown from outside the bridge.”
Commander Narlok shook his head. “The only person who would know is Chief Engineer Salen, but he’s probably down in Engineering and the coms are out.”
“I’ll head down their right away,” said Eyrie, turning to leave.
“Wait!” The twi’lek called, stopping her in her tracks. “The Mandolorians are led by a mercenary called Ironfist. He’s never been captured, defeated, or even driven back.”
“That’s only ‘cause he’s never fought me,” said the other Twi’lek before the woman could continue. This one had introduced herself as Captain Silver, Feyte thought. It looked like she was joking, although there was no way to tell for sure. She certainly didn’t look like the type to best trained Mandolorian mercenaries. The brown leather jacket she wore was oversized and covered in scuff marks and her loose white shirt was coming untucked from her pants. As she spoke, she flicked one of her elaborately painted bright blue lekku and a sparkle played across green eyes.
The twi’lek who had been speaking frowned in confusion. “Regardless, you should be careful.”
Eyrie was also frowning. “We well. Thank you, Ambassador.”
Ambassador? This must be the Ambassador Asara that the Grand Moff had mentioned. Feyte wondered how she’d missed it before. “Why are the Imperials chasing you?” she said before she’d had time to think about it.
“Because of my work. I travel to Imperial-held planets and convince them to come over to the Republic.”
A burst of admiration filled Feyte. “That’s amazing! And a very wise strategy. Hopefully it will allow us to avoid some unnecessary bloodshed. May the Force be with you and grant you safety and success.”
She looked over her shoulder. The rest of the group was leaving her behind. “I have to go. But I would love to talk about your work some time.”
As she ran to catch up with the others, Qyzen slowed his long strides to keep pace with her. “Scorekeeper does not give points for battles avoided.”
“She also doesn’t give points for slaughtering innocents, which is what we’re trying to avoid by stopping a war.” She didn’t doubt his certainty that she was the Herald, but she did wonder why the goddess had chosen her. Trandosian culture was so different from her own. I hope she tells me what it is I’m supposed to do.
The engineering level was darker and dingier than what Feyte had seen in the rest of the ship, the light clustered into a few work areas, but she didn’t feel any malice about the place, just a practical desire for efficiency over comfort. Across the room, a shielded door separated the group from the beings Feyte could feel behind it. They were worried, but not panicked, so their defenses must still be intact, but they didn’t have much time. A droid and a tech were already fiddling with the door panel.
“Identify yourself!” shouted one of the men guarding the tech as he raised his rifle.
“No way!” Captain Silver pulled out her blasters and dove behind a nearby crate. Her friend charged toward the soldiers with a whoop as the room lit up with blaster bolts.
Feyte sighed. A fight had been inevitable, she knew, but couldn’t the captain at least have given her the chance to find a nonviolent solution? She pressed against the elevator doors, eyes sweeping the battle, trying to prevent any of the Imperials’ shots from hitting her allies with bits of debris from the floor. Now that it had come down to it, she didn’t object to the killing, but she wasn’t a warrior like Eyrie. She would be far more useful here.
Eyrie sliced through the last droid before Feyte had even needed to draw her lightsaber. It remained on her belt as she approached the shield door with the rest of the group.
Bent over the door panel, Lieutenant Dayne tapped a few buttons. Although the shield remained in place, the door slid open ponderously, revealing several men working on the machinery. They turned around, some drawing weapons, but relaxed when they saw who was standing there. Feyte felt their relief emanate into the Force.
“Jedi?” said a balding man in a grey uniform. “What are you doing down here?”
Feyte stepped forward. “We need to know how to override the Imperial lockdown.”
“What? The Imps pulled the lockdown?” The man, probably Chief Engineer Salen, made a frustrated noise in his throat.
“Yes sir,” the lieutenant replied. “Commander Narlok sent us.”
“Well, thanks for getting them off our backs. But there’s no way to get rid of a lockdown from here. Maybe if we were out there, I could figure something out, but that’s not gonna happen till the lockdown ends.”
“Well that sucks,” said Captain Silver. “Anyone got another idea?”
One of the other engineers stepped forward. “What about a reactor reset? That would reboot the mainframe.”
“It would also vent the engineering compartment. We’d be sucked into space!”
Captain Silver sighed. “Never mind.”
Chief Engineer Salen bit his lip. “Wait. Shutting down the secondary power conduits should do the same thing, without venting the compartment.”
“There’s no time for that,” said Ambassador Asara. She looked out of breath, like she had run most of the way there. “Commander Narlok and his men are being overwhelmed, there’s no time to try things that we don’t know will work. I’m sorry. You and your men will be remembered, I promise.”
Stunned silence. Feyte could feel the ambassador’s regret and sorrow, but still, how could she even think of suggesting such a thing?
Salen found his voice first. “What? No time? Crazy bitch, shutting down the conduits will work, I swear.”
“Man, I thought ambassadors were supposed to be nice,” muttered Captain Silver.
Feyte waited for Eyrie to agree with the engineer, but instead she just opened her mouth and closed it again without speaking. Not you too! “Eyrie?”
The other Jedi’s presence in the Force was a tempest of pain and confusion. Everyone else seemed to be holding their breath, even Qyzen, who Feyte could normally hear from several feet away.
“Is it really right to sacrifice the safety of hundreds to save these few people?” Eyrie said at last.
“We’re not, though!” Feyte’s heart pounded. “There’s a good chance this will work and then we can save everyone!”
Eyrie took a deep breath and in that instant, all the fear was gone. “You’re right. You’re right” She turned to Salen. “Where are the conduits.”
He too relaxed. “Do you have a map of the ship?”
Sergeant Jorgan produced one and while the others conferred with the techs, Ambassador Asara pulled Eyrie and Feyte aside. “You’re dooming everyone on this ship!” she hissed.
She’s terrified, Feyte realized. “You don’t know that. If we start sacrificing innocent people because of what we think might happen, then we’ve become no better than the Empire.”
The ambassador looked down, but didn’t respond.
“We can talk later, if you want?”
Eyrie cut in. “But right now we have to go.”
The party set off for the first conduit, which Lieutenant Dayne said wasn’t far. Apart from a few droids, the corridors were eerily silent. Tucked into an alcove, their first objective didn’t appear to be guarded, but Feyte kept herself open to the Force, just in case.
Captain Silver knelt in front of the control panel. “Let’s see. . . No labeled shut-off. . . Maybe if I press this button?” An alarm shrieked through the air. “Nope, that must have been the overflow sensor.”
Lieutenant Dayne turned on her. “I thought you said you’d done this before!”
“I have! It was just, uh, a long time ago.”
“Let me do it.” The lieutenant shoved the captain out of the way and bent over the panel. After a moment, the alarms stopped.
“Got some Imps incoming!” shouted the captain’s companion from halfway down the hall.
Feyte squinted into the dimness. There they were, led by a man who hardly looked older than she was. He raised his rifle and fired at her.
As if by her own will, her lightsaber activated and swung up to block the bolt. The Force flowed through her and she used it to grab a piece of deck plating to slam into his head. His presence flickered, then disappeared.
The others made short work of the rest of the squad and hurried toward the next conduit. Feyte hung back, looking at the young soldier’s face. His jaw was misshapen where the plating had hit him and blood dripped from his mouth. It still amazed her that she had the power to kill a man, just like that. It was what needed to happen. . . wasn’t it?
Bowing her head respectfully to his body, she wished his soul a swift journey to become one with the Force and hurried to catch up.
The other two conduits went smoothly and they returned to Chief Engineer Salen unscathed. “See, I told you it would work,” he said to the ambassador. “The bridge should be open now.”
“Alright, let’s go,” said Eyrie.
They piled back into the elevator and stepped out into a flurry of blaster bolts. The Mandolorian commandos that had been waiting for them slumped to the floor almost as soon as they had opened fire.
Another door separated them from the bridge proper. The lieutenant paused with her finger over the controls. “Everyone ready?” she said. The rest of the group nodded or murmured assent.
As the door slid open, Feyte saw First Officer Hakin and the rest of the bridge crew huddled in a corner, guarded by a group of rough-looking men in multicolored armor. It didn’t look like anyone was hurt, but she couldn’t tell for certain.
The Mandolorian leader, a bald Human man with an uneven tan, began a slow, deliberately insulting clap. “I knew you would come,” he said, laughing. “But aren’t there more of you?”
“There’s still time to surrender,” said Feyte. “Cooperate, and you won’t be harmed.”
“Ah, a Jedi. Cowards to the end, aren’t you?” Ironfist gestured to his men, who pulled out a variety of exotic weapons.
Feyte pulled out her lightsaber and activated it as the Mandolorians opened fire. Letting her instinct guide the yellow beam into the path of any shot that came close enough to be a danger, she grabbed hold of the nearest chair with the Force and sent it hurtling toward the nearest mercenary. He fell, stunned, and she slammed his body into his companion. While he disentangled himself, Feyte scanned the rest of the melee. Qyzen and Lieutenant Dayne seemed to be keeping Ironfist, the Trandoshan harrying him with his sword while the human woman peppered him with shots to keep him from fleeing.
Putting up a shield with the Force to stop a well-aimed blaster bolt from reaching Corso where he tangled with another Mandolorian, Feyte felt a slight shift in Ironfist’s intentions. What is he planning?
Before she had time to figure it out, a noise behind her caught her attention and she turned to see T7-01 pumping blaster bolts into what had been a man with a vibroblade. “Thank you!” she called, although she didn’t think he could hear her.
One of the mercenaries had broken off from the rest of the fighting and was headed toward the bridge crew. Feyte ran towards him, propelling any debris she could find. He stumbled, fell, and lay still. A quick slice with her lightsaber finished him off. “Are you alright?” she said to the crew. One or two of them managed to nod.
As she turned back, Feyte heard Ironfist laugh. Something twisted in her gut and she knew that he was about to act. An instant later, she saw them. Rockets launching from the four corners of the room, towards her allies fighting in center. Feyte closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, willing them to stop. Their motion was like a pressure, drilling into her temples and building in her ears until her breath caught in her throat.
The shock of the explosion ripped through her, bursting the tension like a blister. Heat washed over her. She opened her eyes.
No casualties on her side. Good.
If she had caused Ironfist any problems, she couldn’t tell from his expression. Four more missiles launched and Feyte dropped to the floor. If she was going to do this again, she needed to do nothing but concentrate on it.
This can’t go on for very long, she thought as she directed the next set into a wall. Although catching the missiles was straightforward enough now that she wasn’t distracted, she was having trouble finding places for them to go. She didn’t want to punch a hole in the side of the ship or destroy something vital.
Another round shot off and her heightened awareness caught the stress in the ship’s hull. What can I do with this one?
When the answer struck her, it was so simple that she wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her sooner. Standing up – it took much more effort than she thought it would – she used the Force to augment her speed into reaching Ironfist in only a few seconds. He turned toward her as another burst of missiles launched.
Feyte closed her eyes and called the missiles to her. Closer, closer. In the space between heartbeats, she seized Ironfist with the Force and pulled him into the air. All four missiles slammed into his body and the heat from the explosion washed over her. She let the Mandolorian fall to the ground.
Eyrie was gaping at her in shock. “You killed him.”
Feyte shook her head. “Not quite.” There was still a breath of life in his body, rapidly fading. But someone else would have to restrain him. Her hands shook and her vision was swimming.
“I’ll fix that.” Lieutenant Dayne walked over to the prone figure and rolled him over with her foot.
He raised his head, raw with burns. “Go on, then,” he said in a voice heavy with pain but still defiant. “Kill me.”
The lieutenant shot and he slumped to the floor.
Feyte stumbled to a still-upright chair and slumped into it. “I killed him.” She felt numb. She’d killed before, of course, but never anyone so like her in appearance and biology. Logically, she knew it should be no different than the Flesh Raider she had killed on Tython, but it felt different.
Qyzen set his clawed hand on her shoulder. “Was worthy foe, Herald. Scored many points.”
“And you saved us,” said Eyrie. “Thank you.”
A little pride crept through Feyte’s exhaustion and discomfort. She had done the right thing.
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ameliaashdale · 2 years
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I was thinking of rewriting my American Jedi series to take place either during the High Republic Era or Prequel Era. I think it would get more traction that way.
Should I go through with it?
Or is it better keeping it set in The Old Republic?
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bentarb · 1 year
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In my SWTOR FanFic writing, I want to include an alternate Earth but I’ve got a concern about designing the starships.
Part of me wants to design them so they look like they’d fit into Star Wars and won’t seem out of place. But one aspect of the alternate Earth I’m writing is that it developed its technology in complete isolastion, and is incompatible with what’s in the rest of the Star Wars galaxy - i;e, Terran communicators can’t send messages to or recieve them from others, slicing gadgets can’t enter Terran computers, and the droids have no personality and self-determination - so I feel like the designs should reflect that.
Does anyone have any thoughts?
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luchadorbard · 2 months
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A Writeblr Introduction
I'm new to these parts so I figure I might as well introduced myself as seems to be customary from my understanding.
You can call me Luchador Bard. A wandering enjoyer and creator of stories of the written word. I'm a big fan of Pro-wrestling, TTRPGS, Video games, Sci-fi, fantasy and speculative fiction at large.
I'm currently aspiring to be formally published in some form or another some day! Until then, hope you enjoy the journey as much as I do.
I've got a few short stories involving my various OC's (Both from own settings and fan fiction work) Here are some short story examples.
A D&D villain of mine's backstory
My Jedi Consular from SWTOR
I hope to further hone my craft, improve as a writer and meet some fellow writers who share this crazy hobby of mine.
Nice to meet you all.
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