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flightlessangelwings · 4 months

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His Strength

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count- 3.8k

Dialogue prompt- “ hey! get away from them! “ and “ don’t worry about me; are YOU okay? “ Action prompt- [ SACRIFICE ]: sender sacrifices themselves, either fatally or otherwise, in order to save the receiver’s life.

Warnings-s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fwb to lovers, protective!Din, bounty hunter reader, injury, brief violence, brief torture scene (not super descriptive and no needles or anything like that), light angst, happy ending, mutual pining, feelings, no use of y/n, ambiguous on where in the timeline it is but razor crest lives

Notes- We made it, this is the last of my Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023! I actually had a different idea at first, but after some personally tragedy, I wanted to write something a little more angtsy. Don't worry tho it's still a happy ending and no major character death! Thanks so much to those who have supported this year theme endeavor with me!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date!

When you first partnered with a Mandalorian bounty hunter in the guild, you never expected how much it would change your life. What started as a one time alliance for convenience turned into a partnership built on mutual respect for the other. And everything changed even more the day Mando came to you asking for help with a child he had taken in. He had told you what happened, and how he made the decision to save the child instead, and it awoke something within you that day. Even as he rescued the child from the Client, you stayed by his side and as the two of you traveled the galaxy, you felt the dynamic shift between you two.

It changed the Mandalorian that day too. From under the armor, he had always respected you, but seeing you with the child made him feel something he had never felt before. He found that his gaze lingered on you when you weren’t looking, and he found himself wondering what life would be like if you and the child could stay with him forever… as a family.

Neither of you were sure when it happened. You were just partners one moment, and the next, became something more. There was never a whisper of it spoken out loud, though, just both of you knew something shifted. Even if it was simply for release, it changed everything between you two. He even murmured his real name to you in the throws of passion- a gift you treasured and kept safe in your heart.

Sweat lined your brow as you writhed beneath the Mandalorian. His low grunts echoed from under his helmet while you bit your lip to stifle your moans. Din, as always, never took anything off, only freed his cock. You stayed mostly covered as well, something you wondered if he did to keep things feeling leveled, as if he didn’t want to feel like he was overpowering you. Only your bottoms came off, and even then they stayed around your ankles.

It started fast, heated, and fiery. The first time you and Din slept together was quick, as if you were both concerned with the moment running away from you. He just pushed your pants down enough and took you against the wall. And even with the rush, it was still a more intimate connection you had ever felt in your life. You couldn’t tell at the time, but Din felt the same way.

Over time, it moved from the wall to Din’s bunk, and from hot and hurried to slow and sensual. Din at times handled you with sure care that you wondered if he thought you would break. The way he caressed every inch of you made your heart flutter in your chest as you looked at him with a glazed over expression. Neither of you were sure when exactly it happened, but something changed as the two of you came together time and time again.

You felt it with every thrust of his cock. Though you never saw his face, you felt the emotions behind his movements and his touch. You looked into the darkness of his vizor, locking eyes with him behind it. A louder moan escaped your lips as he rocked into you again, filling you to the brim.

“Din…” you murmured as you ran your hands across his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he groaned in a low tone that went right to your core.

You whimpered at the care that lined his voice. Moving before you could second guess yourself, you let go of his broad shoulders and reached down for your own top. You grabbed and pulled it over yourself in one swift movement, exposing more of your body to Din.

He paused as his helmet nodded up and down as he soaked in the sight of your bare chest, “You’re beautiful,” he groaned as his hands wandered across your breasts.

Mirroring your action, Din surprised you by quickly removing his gloves so that he could touch your bare skin. Both of you gasped when his large hand cupped your jaw first, then trailed down to your breast. He remained inside you yet stayed still as both of you froze in the moment. Din’s thumb brushing across your nipple was the only movement save for the way both your chests expanded with your heavy breaths.

A whimper escaped your lips as Din caressed your breast, gently pinching your nipple as he fondled you. He worshiped your body with his touch and you could hear the heavy breaths from under his helmet. Heat rose between the two of you as he kneaded your breasts.

Din murmured your name as his hand trailed up your chest and along your arms until he took your hand in his. Leaning forward, Din pressed his forehead against yours as he covered your body with his own and resumed his thrusts.

This time, you couldn’t hold back your moans. Between the way he pounded into you and the emotions that came with the intimacy of the moment, you couldn’t help the way you cried out. Din’s cock hit spots deep inside you that you never felt before, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he groaned, “Me too…”

His hand clasped around yours as he sped up his thrusts, rocking into you with abandon. You arched your back into him as you squeezed his hand right back, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your climax quickly approach.

“Din… I’m…” was all you could get out before your orgasm hit you. Your entire body trembled under his beskar-clad one as you came hard on his cock. Your cries echoed in the small space as you felt Din hit your sweet spot over and over again, making you feel a pleasure unlike anything you ever experienced before.

Din growled your name as his hips became more erratic until he too hit his peak. He dropped down onto his elbows, all while never letting go of your hand as he felt wave after wave of pleasure crash through him as he spilled himself deep inside you.

Heavy breaths filled the small space between your bodies as Din rode out your orgasms together. With one final deep thrust, Din groaned as he stilled himself for a moment until he pulled out of you completely. You let out a soft whine at the loss as you felt your body pulse from the aftershocks of your powerful climax.

He gave your hand one last squeeze before he finally let go, and Din immediately grabbed your shirt so that you could cover yourself.

Mumbling a hushed “thanks,” you maneuvered yourself in the tiny space to dress yourself, slipping your shirt on before shimmying your pants back up. Vaguely, you felt Din’s gaze on you as he helped you move around on the cot. For a moment, you didn’t dare look at him. The emotions were too overwhelming after what happened. Something changed in the air between you two, but neither of you were sure how to address it.

That was when you noticed his hand still lingered on your body, holding you tightly. “Din…” you started in a whisper.

But you were interrupted when a coo from a distance made you both look up. Grugu babbled happily as he made his way outward the bunk and climbed in, settling himself in between you two.

You smiled brightly as you finally looked at Din, “We didn’t wake him did we?” you asked in embarrassment.

“I hope not,” he replied with a soft laugh in his tone, “I’m sure it’s fine,” he reassured you.

You couldn’t help but giggle as the little child made himself comfortable between the two of you. Faintly, you heard his laughter with yours and it made your heart soar.

Din tilted his head affectionately, “Rest now,” he cradled your face, “We all need some sleep.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wiggling your way around where Grogu already made himself comfortable, you laid down on your side and exhaled deeply. Din did the same after you were settled and he placed himself so that he could wrap his arm around both you and the child, holding you both close, keeping you both safe.

“Goodnight,” you murmured before you drifted off. Surprisingly, it took you no time to fall asleep, perhaps because you were warm and comfortable… and safe.

The Mandalorian, however, laid awake for some time, just listening to you and Grugu sleep. Everything he could ever want in the galaxy was tucked safely in his arms, yet it all felt so far at the same time. He knew neither you nor the child were truly his, yet he felt like the three of you were already a family. If you only knew just how much you meant to him…

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you mumbled.

Din glanced over at you, but said nothing. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before he stepped in front of you.

The alleyway felt like it closed in around you. Dim lights led the way as you, Din and Grogu tracked the fob and the bustle of the city faded into the distance. It was quiet, but not calming. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt wrong, and everything in you screamed to turn around.

Din's presence anchored you, though, and you stayed at his side as you carefully made your way toward where the fob guided you. With each step, it beeped louder until you all turned down one last alley that led to a small shack.

“Careful,” Din hissed under his breath to you.

You and Din each hovered your hands over your weapons, ready to strike. Din scanned the area, and when he found no movement, he nodded to you and opened the door slowly. You held your breath as the two of you pointed your blasters into the small space, ready for anything. However, as you inched closer, you noticed that the target laid still. Scrunching your brows, you reached a hand out to check, and with a sigh you turned back to Din, “He’s already dead.”

Din let out a soft grunt. You were right- something was off about this. But, before he could even reply, an explosion knocked both of you off balance. He shouted your name as he instinctively tried to reach for you, but you were knocked too far away from him.

A yelp escaped your throat as you found yourself thrown against the nearby wall. You groaned as your body ached, but you forced yourself up onto your elbows. Grogu’s pram was pushed next to you, and through the smoke in the distance where the front wall used to be, you saw numerous shadows appear. Din laid on the ground on the other side of the space, groaning as he too pushed himself back up.

Acting quickly, you shot up to your feet and grabbed onto the pram, “Get out of here, Grogu,” you told him and you gathered your strength, “Get out of here and get help,” you strained as you pushed the pram as hard as you could, sending it hurling out the window and into the darkness. You watched it disappear for a moment before you turned to your companion, “Din,” you breathed.

He looked over at you, but before he could even say your name, another figure appeared behind you and knocked you unconscious. Din yelled, both in fear and in anger, and attacked the enemies with everything he had, fighting until he too found his world completely black.

You felt the pain before you opened your eyes; your entire body ached. Faintly, you heard voices and clamoring around you, and it took you several seconds to blink your eyes open. When you did, you found yourself in a brightly lit room with several men around you. Gasping, you tried to move, but you found yourself strapped down- your wrists were bound at your sides and your ankles were tied at the end of the table you currently laid on.

“You joined us just in time,” a sinister voice spoke.

Snapping your head in the direction of the voice, you saw a tall man with a rod in his hands. The rod sparked at the end, and you knew immediately what it was for. You spat a curse at him as you struggled to get out of your binds, but that only amused him.

“She’s feisty,” he commented, “I see why you keep her around, Mando,” he moved aside to reveal Din behind him, also bound but in a different way.

The Mandalorian was on his knees, his wrists cuffed together in front of him, and several men strained to keep him in place. His shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths, and you could hear the snarl in his breathing.

“Maybe now you can tell us where the child is,” the man continued as he stepped towards you, the rod pointing right at you.

“Get away from her!” Din shouted, “Let her go!”

He ignored him, the rod hovering just above your skin, “Let’s hear how pretty you are when you scream,” he hissed.

“No!” Din struggled in vain as he tried to break free.

The searing pain from the rod against your skin made you scream before you could fight it. Pulse after pulse of electricity shot through your entire body, and it was the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Your eyes snapped shut as you tried to wriggle away, but it was no use. You were trapped, and there was nothing you or Din could do.

Your screams went right to Din’s chest, “Stop!” he shouted. Fueled by his rage at seeing you hurt, Din finally broke free of his captors and with a grunt, knocked them out. “It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Din panted, “Don’t hurt her.”

Din smashed the binders that held his wrists together, shattering it, before he grabbed his small vibroblade that he kept hidden. The room turned into a frenzy as the other men attacked him, but he fought them off until he reached the leader, the one who hurt you.

Amused at the scene, the leader pulled out a blade of his own and countered Din's attack, “Is this… love, Mandalorian?” he asked as he parried Din's attack.

The Mandalorian just growled as rage consumed him. He went blade to blade with the leader a few times, but he soon made a mistake. Din glance over at you, still bound to the table with tears in your eyes. He hesitated for just a moment as the sight of you like that broke him, and that was when the leader stuck, stabbing Din right between the plates of his armor.

“Has a woman made you soft?” he teased in a low voice as he drove the blade deeper, "How sweet," he spat.

Your eyes went wide as your mouth opened to let out a scream, but nothing came out. Instead, all you could croak out was a hushed, "Din..."

Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed and thrashed in your binds, desperate to do something. Maniacal laughter filled the room as Din slumped down, the blade still in his body. You whimpered as you tried to fight through the pain that coursed through your body and free yourself, but it was no use. This was the end. And you didn’t even get to tell him…

Suddenly, the wall on the far side burst open in an explosion and dozens of Karga’s men flooded into the room. They fought off your captors in a heated fight. And through the flames and blaster fire, you saw the familiar outline of the child, who waddled over to you. It was the last thing you saw before you passed out from the pain.

Din woke with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was getting stabbed, hearing you scream and then an explosion. He had no idea where he was, but he did notice that his hands weren’t bound anymore. And the pain had dulled to an ache in his side. But, more than his own injuries, he was more concerned with where you were. Thankfully for him, your voice was the next thing he heard.

“Din,” you gasped, “It’s alright, we’re ok,” you were right next to him.

Din laid back down with a groan as the pain suddenly intensified. But it didn’t matter, you were here, and you were ok. He whispered your name, “What happened?”

“Grogu found backup,” you sounded tired, “Karga and the others found us just in time.”

He groaned, “Grogu?! Where is he?”

“Shh,” you tried to calm him, knowing how much the kid meant to him, “He’s alright. He’s resting in the next room. It took a lot out of him… healing us…”

“Are you alright?” was his next question after a pause.

Your eyes went wide, “Don’t worry about me. Are you ok?”

Din cupped your face, “As long as you and the kid are alright…”

“Don’t say that,” tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. You let out a shaky breath before you added, “Din, you… You sacrificed yourself… For me…” your voice trembled.

He groaned as he slowly pushed himself up to sit. You mumbled incoherent concerns as you helped him up, and once Din was upright, he found himself almost eye level with you due to the height of the cot. Din let out a heavy sigh as his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the way you looked at him. Though he hated to see tears in your eyes, he noticed the care and concern that highlighted your features.

“Din…” you breathed as he cupped your face once more.

As he gently cradled your face in his hand, Din murmured, “Keeping you and Grogu safe,” he hissed slightly from the pain, “Is all that matters to me. You two are all that matter to me.” Din spoke in a sincere voice.

Fresh tears filled your eyes, but not ones of sadness. You longed to hear him say those words, and now that you heard them, the emotions became overwhelming. “I care about you too, Din,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch, feeling his thumb brush across your cheek, “You and the kid… You’re my family. My everything.”

Din let out a deep breath, “I trust you,” his tone was soft, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

He slid his hand up your face to rest over your eyes. Your mouth dropped open as a sigh escaped your lips, but you said nothing and made no attempt to move. You put yourself completely in his hands, knowing you were safe in them. But, you gasped when you heard the hiss of his helmet, and felt the gentle breath from Din’s own lips.

Din leaned in and tenderly placed his lips over yours, using his free hand to keep his helmet covering the rest of his face. You both moaned softly into each other as you savored the feeling of your lips together for the first time. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet it held all the emotions the two of you held close to your hearts. Now that everything was out in the open, though, you and Din both felt like you could share this vulnerability with each other.

You tilted your head to the side as you placed your hands on Din’s armored chest and parted your lips in a silent invitation. Din eagerly took it and deepened the kiss by darting his tongue past your lips. He groaned into you and pushed his chest more into your body as the taste of you sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. A tear of his own slid down his face as he memorized the taste of you and the feeling of your face against his.

As much as neither of you wanted to break away, you needed air. Reluctantly, you both parted at the same time, sharing the air that you both inhaled. Din carefully pulled his helmet down and covered your eyes, taking a moment to admire the subtle features of your face as you kept your eyes closed.

“Look at me,” he said gently.

You blinked your eyes open, and knew from the way he tilted his head to the side that he was admiring you. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you felt his eyes stare at you through the darkness of the visor. “Thank you,” you whispered, “For saving my life,” you slid your hand in his.

“You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din murmured as he squeezed your hand and moved his free one to cup the back of your head, “I’ll always protect you,” he continued in a low tone as he guided your head closer to his until your foreheads touched. Din knew his love for you and Grugu didn't make him weak, despite what the leader said. In fact, it made him stronger than ever, it drove him to fight harder to protect you both.

You let out another deep breath as your eyes closed and you cherished the moment. Being held by Din made you feel safe and warm, even with the cold armor he wore. You felt the warmth of his touch, the warmth of his love, even through the beskar. “Let’s go see our kid,” you broke the silence with a smile in your tone.

Din let out a soft, amused huff that told you he was smiling too, “Yeah,” he murmured, “Let’s get our family back together.”

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galesdevoteewife · 4 months

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Some thoughts on Act 3 cutscene, endings and the line “To know you love me for the man I am"

[ Gale romance spoiler all the way to the epilogue ]

In my vanilla playthrough, the particular act 3 cutscene dialogue which Gale wanted the crown caught me off guard. It was one of the rare bg3 moments that stirred complicated feelings within me. (to a point I was considering maybe I should romance Emperor lmao) The structure of his proposal felt thoroughly planned and scripted. Every question I raised was met with a well prepared answer.

Too ambitious? It's not for myself; it's for us, for the greater good. Too dangerous? What have we done that wasn't risky? We're up to the task! Power corrupts? Just a means to an end. I’ll still be me, just an improved version. Now I only need a kiss.

I viewed it from the perspective of him hard-selling the player a difficult decision, and the entire conversation felt strategic. Topping it off with the famous line, “With you, I forget my goddess. I love you.” Such a powerful, attention-grabbing statement delivered with utmost sincerity. It's likely that the player would remember only this line, also making it more difficult to reject him. While I don't doubt his love for them, his motives were a question to me.

One of the things that makes Gale's darker path unique is that everything looks beautiful—voyage through the galaxy, kissing lovers, his voice, so tender and sincere. There's no eerie light, no violence, no bloodshed.

Some thoughts on his true intention and how insecurity is the must-solve in Gale's romance arc

In my opinion Gale’s main emotional knot in relationship is the insecurities he harbors. He holds a logic that he is loved (or tolerated) because of his power. Gale Dekarios wanted to be seen and loved but he "holds a poor figure next to Gale of Waterdeep". While there are exceptions like Tara, his mother, and perhaps Elminster, who love him for who he is; it's not his default to believe that people would appreciate him without his power/achievement/service.

With that in mind and let's circle back to why he wants godhood.

If the player reject him in the boat scene, his instant reaction is: “But I could be so much more to you.” If they reject godGale: “I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?” –Not a word about the better world. I wasn’t convinced he wanted the godhood “for the betterment of all”.

Instead, what he truly wants is the player’s heart... and I think he believes that obtaining the crown and godhood can win them over. Awkwardly, he would need their help to get rid of the elder brain and he is trying hard to convince them.

Some argue that godGale quickly transforms into the type of passive deity he despised, but I hold my opinion on how deeply he cares about the world in the first place. True, he could sacrifice himself to save the day, but he always says "it's the right way/fate" with nothing empathetic for the general folks. I am suspicious that he says it to dismiss the player's concern.

A bit of addition to this theory. Seeking godhood is not a new ambition for him, according to Elminster's epilogue letter. In my canon, he desired it for Mystra if not for the player, attempting to draw closer to her as an equal.

Gale, the god of ambition

Ascending without resolving inner conflicts is like thrusting a dagger into redemption Durge's hands, potentially exacerbating the situation. The ascension path strengthens this twisted logic. Looking at the godGale romance ending cutscene, he gets to dress the player in matching outfits, hold them in his arms, in his realm, in his symbol. They are finally his, and he would believe it’s the power that made it happen.

However, this would lead down to a never ending thorny path with an insatiable hunger. As a god of ambition, it's in his nature to desire more, continually pursuing additional power because it's a viable all-purpose solution in his mind. He will work his way up to the god rank, might even consume a few, "bringing chaos that even trembles the heavens" —according to Raphael. And guess what? In the dnd universe, there are even superior beings above AO.

Nonetheless I hold hopes and optimism towards the godGale romance. I don’t see anything stopping the player from starting to make things better and nudging him into better use of his godhood. Ambition is not necessarily a bad thing. However, at the point where the game ends, this path is a dimmer one.

Some thoughts on the line: “To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command... None have loved me so purely before.”

When I first saw this line and my tav reacted with a sad face I thought she was thinking “Huh? But i love you for your magic too??” xD

It just doesn’t make sense if he is drawing a conclusion that the player would love him for a 0 magic muggle Gale. He is a wizard. His alliance with the player was built on him contributing to their journey with his magical ability, and their romance was sparked by a shared moment through the weave.

My interpretation is that what he meant by “the magic I command” was referring to the mighty power he used to possess, and “the man I am” was everything he showed you—his love for magic, nerdy side, witty jokes, cooking… things that he thinks define who he truly is. In my canon, he probably went through a long period where his title/talent was all that mattered to people, for his portfolio was way too strong (if I read my dnd materials right, lorewise he could be a legendary character even. I will make a post once I put my findings together). The Chosen of Mystra (among the 22 known chosen in more than a thousand years, some of them are even Mystra’s daughters), the prodigy archmage with the gift to conduct the weave. He could have experienced hurt multiple times as people showed little interest in his personality, then he fell back to conceal Gale Dekarios behind the Gale of Waterdeep fortress. However, this consequently blocked him from building real friendships/relationships.

His circle is small, yet I suspect it's partly because he wouldn't let people come close enough to see Gale Dekarios. Even in Act 3, he still wants to keep it between the player and himself. At the beginning of the journey, he denied the player's attempts to know anything other than his profession. If the player is a wizard, he would even play authority and "apprentice" them. By the by, here's an interesting reading about how he might be masking.

Professor Dekarios of Illusory school

Lastly, my favorite path for Gale! Ugh, it just melts me to see him smile that wayyy (How can Tim and the team be so genius and make the expression distinctive???? I mean, he has been smiling all the time, but especially sweet in the epilogue???) He is content. He knows he doesn't need the mask, nor power, or godhood for the player and him to be each other's. From my point of view, it's an arc of self-acceptance and unknotting. He is convinced power isn't everything, and he chooses to teach illusory magic (gotta admit, destruction-force wise it’s almost a harmless school) for he is the one who wants magic for realizing imagination and the one who shed tears over burned roses.

The path in which Gale Dekarios believes that he is seen, understood, loved, and finds peace. Nothing I would like him to have more. I hold true love for this fictional 3D man *wipe away joyful tears*

Sidenote [1]: Some hate Gale for thinking he's only “pretending”. I personally think he is a well-layered character, for there are so many ways to explain him and plenty of room for ambiguity, making it fun to think about his thinking.

Sidenote [2]: I inevitably project some of myself onto him. The concept of “you don’t need to try so hard, pretending to be someone else to be accepted by the world. you only need to find the right band.” is a kind thought that’s so cozy to me.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #gale romance #bg3 spoilers #bg3 gale #bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 datamine #And NO bombing him is not even an existing option for me #Galeology #not fixing but loving

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geek-antic · 10 months

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Soundwave is a powerhouse and an enigma and we don't talk about it enough so i'mma just gonna make a compilation of "how the hell did he do that" and "what the hell is he" moments that i've managed to find from across several transformers continuities

first off is from the first IDW comic continuity

this is never explained, so i can only assume its because soundwave is technically an outlier but i haven't seen a panel that shows other outliers having "off the scale" readings, whatever that means.

and then in the last moments of this continuity he sacrifices himself to save the universe/earth by using his outlier ability along with the enigma of combination to essentially connect the dead to the living in the entire galaxy for a hot minute . idk how the hell he did that or how he knew to do that, my money is on bad writing but i digress.

next up Transformers Prime

tfp fans: elaborate on that. tfp writers: no. transformers prime soundwave is definitely a powerhouse and an enigma for several reasons but number one is this god damn scene with ratchet exclaiming soundwave isn't your standard cybertronian and then to my frustration the show refuses to explain why.

also he can open portals. the only explanation for that is in the novels where he actually was part of the invention of spacebridge technology. i guess he could've incorporated that into himself, which frankly is kinda unheard of in of itself. but still I feel inclined to tell him that skywarp called and they want their powers back.

Next, we have the game Transformers: fall of cybertron. where he scavenges together all of megatrons parts and puts him back together which, yeah sure why not? it's essentially like putting a corpse back together but then he just REVIVES HIM??

with his mind completely intact despite having been decimated by Metroplex and being dead for several hours. excuse me sir but that shouldn't be possible. I guess I could just chop it up to the writers being a bit loosey goosey with their own rules for the world but it's still quite a feat. but thinking back to G1 where he did the same thing with skyfire I guess they assumed it's just something he can do?

although skyfire's revival was a bit more reasonable considering he was still in one piece and frozen solid which they explained to be the reason as to why he was kept intact. but I'm assuming that's why the writers were like "well let's just have him do the same thing for megatron" and everyone was like yeah okay why not. also like a lot of things in G1 this inbuilt high voltage canon/defibrillator is never brought up again which is hilarious and par for the course for G1.

there are several more moments throughout all the tf continuities where soundwave just does something inexplicable but these are a some of the moments that stuck out to me the most. I welcome others to add onto this post if they wish. because I'm sure I've missed some "how the hell did he do that" moments that would be a shame not to bring up.

#geek rantics #soundwave #character study #ish #I have several crackpot theories in regards to soundwave #purely based on moments like these #tf soundwave #IDW1 #IDW #transformers #tfp #transformers fall of cybertron #G1 #tf idw comics spoilers #I guess but not really

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faceofpoe · 1 month

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"Don't make the same mistake twice."

Because I am fully in camp 'Clone Operative dude is someone devastating under that helmet' do not clown us all on this writers and a spiteful at condescending assholes on Reddit hopeful part of me just really wants it to somehow be (saveable) Tech so we can have a reunited-for-one-last-fight-full-Batch-back-together finale-

The narrative argument for somehow-Tech-returned:

(also see: my (much shorter) narrative contemplation for Cody)

I have a sneaking suspicion that our character development focus is going to shift from Crosshair to Hunter for the back half of the season. Crosshair feels a bit... done? He chose Omega over the easy out on Lau, he's owned up to making mistakes, embraced his place among the squad again ("much worse" than Hunter - lol), he's had his faceoff/heart-to-heart/mutual saving each other rapid progression with Howzer - yeah I imagine there are still things we're going to learn about what he went through/possible ramifications therein, but as far as accepting who he is/his place/etc I think we're winding down on his focus.

Bringing our attention to the end of ep 7 and Rex & Hunter's convo about walking away, and his convo at the end of s2 with Echo about an unwinnable fight and so on. He just wants to protect his squad but the walls are closing in, and Omega won't be content just running and hiding.

And this brings me to the end of season 1 and Crosshair's rather lacking motivational speech about why they should join the Empire finally - they're meant for more than wandering aimlessly as fugitives, etc, and he tells Hunter - "Don't make the same mistake twice."

Now in s3e5, in what felt like the galaxy's most unfinished conversation ever, Hunter tells Crosshair he has "regrets" - but what exactly are they?

Fleeing Kamino in Aftermath, presumably not.

But the number of times in season 1 when he's given the opening to revisit the whole "leaving our own behind" thing and just - doesn't? Everyone else starts in on the "wait maybe the whole thing was the chip?' convo in ep 3 and he shuts it down to focus on the crisis at hand. He later says he's mad at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega says they'll find a way to get him back and he nods but - I don't think the notion is ever revisited?

Rex emphasizes how the chips are impossible to resist.

They *see* what it does to Wrecker.

Howzer refuses to flee Ryloth with them because he won't abandon his squad - knows they're good men, hopes he can convince them that they're not doing the right thing. We get a brief contemplative look at that, and the look back at Crosshair after they flee but.

After Kamino and after Bracca, sure, maybe the risk of even trying to get to him would seem too high - but we never even get a conversation about it, about finding a way to recover Crosshair and get the chip out now that they know how to do it.

He's also the most skeptical one about the Plan 88 message even after a presumably decent chunk of time has passed, after he knows the chip is gone, after Crosshair saved Omega on Kamino.

So - thesis, please - my narrative argument for wintersoldier'ified-Tech isn't about very mean visual teases callbacks, and it's not about undoing Tech's sacrifice or carving out room for a Tech redemption arc (because we wouldn't need it) (seriously this one baffles me, what?) -

It's about Hunter getting the chance to not make the same (actual) mistake twice, writing off one of his squad as a lost cause and leaving them behind.

(I'm also still really hung up on meeting Phee on the line "Better late than dead" but that's a different conversation)

Thank you for coming to my Tech talk.

#help we're entering 'poe left unattended with tbb' territory that's traditionally been reserved for andor #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #bad batch #bad batch spoilers #look I can't fathom how dude could have survived there was literally a whole cable car falling on top of him #but like #this fucking show lol #this is the part where someone is going to point out a very obvious conversation I've forgotten about that discounts everything I just said #but until then #lol

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david-talks-sw · 1 year

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Luke Skywalker in 'The Last Jedi' (1/2)

Luke in The Last Jedi... love it or hate it, it's a difficult subject.

I personally stand somewhere in the middle. I don't think Luke was "ruined"... I'd argue that, from a purely in-universe perspective, his subplot actually tracks with what was previously established in the original films.

There are issues, but I think they are mainly found on an out-of-universe/structural level (which I'll get into in post 2/2). For now, let's take a deep dive and unpack why this portrayal isn't all that problematic.

The most commonly-heard argument is that:

"They ruined Luke's character! He would never go into exile or abandon his sister and friends!"

Simply put, Luke used to be:

an optimist

so brave he'd risk his life to save his friends,

aspired to become a Jedi.

Whereas, in The Last Jedi, he's:

jaded and depressed,

hides/abandons his sister and friends, like a coward,

says the Jedi need to die?!

Now the fact is... Luke is 24 years older when he goes into exile, 30 years older in The Last Jedi. People change, with age.

In Luke's case, he matured from an impatient kid who'd rashly run to save his friends, like in Empire Strikes Back, to a grown-up who makes hard choices and restrains himself from doing that, even though he desperately wants to.

Luke tells himself this is a self-sacrifice, this is for the greater good.

"Because he’s the last Jedi and a symbol of that it then becomes this self-sacrifice, he has take himself out of it, when he knows his friends are dying, when the thing he’d most like to do is get back in the fight." - Rian Johnson, The Empire Film Podcast, 2018

And Rian Johnson didn't want Luke to come across as a coward, so he also gave Luke an argument that initially seems to make sense:

The Jedi way is flawed and inevitably leads to arrogance. Proof: the Sith originally came from Jedi. His own new order is no exception to that rule, even if he thought it was (in his arrogance, he believed his own legend).

So if he leaves and stays in exile? No more Jedi, no more Jedi-turned-darksiders that can mess up the galaxy.

The Force will keep trying to balance itself and a new, worthier source will appear (in the form of Rey).

But while his reasoning that "the Jedi are inevitably arrogant" seems sound and reasonable... it's wrong.

Just like Dooku's reasoning that "the Jedi are corrupt" seems sound, but is ultimately wrong.

Just like Anakin's rationalization that "the Jedi are evil" seems sound nope, that one doesn't even seem sound, it's just plain wrong.

Where is it wrong, in Luke's case?

Well, he's rationalizing his actions by blaming the Jedi religion, instead of admitting his own failure.

"The notion of, 'Nope, toss this all away and find something new,' is not really a valid choice, I think. Ultimately, Luke's exile and his justifications for it are all covering over his guilt over Kylo." - Rian Johnson, The Art of The Last Jedi, 2017

"In his own way, [Luke is] trying to disconnect, he’s trying to throw away the past, he’s saying 'Let’s kill [the Jedi] religion. It’s the thing that’s messing us up, thins thing right here, let’s kill it.’ And the truth is, it’s a personal failure. It’s not religion, it’s his own human nature that’s betrayed him." - Rian Johnson, The Empire Film Podcast, 2018

He fucked up, plain and simple.

But it's not because “he’s a Jedi and that made him arrogant and the Jedi mentality is flawed”, as he claims early on in the movie.

He failed because he's flawed. Luke is human and had a moment of weakness where he was scared shitless and acted on instinct.

Yoda's spirit helps him realize this, and he fixes his mistake by allowing Leia and the resistance to save themselves. And as he does it, he acknowledges the importance of the Jedi and their teachings.

And it's also why, in The Rise of Skywalker, he has the maturity to admit that he wasn't staying on the island out of some self-sacrificial gesture, as he kept telling himself. Truth is, he was afraid. Afraid he'd screw up again.

Do the movies go about this in an emotionally-satisfying way? That's debatable. But, on paper, I don't think Luke's behavior in The Last Jedi is too much of a shark-jump considering how

THE ORIGINAL IDEA CAME FROM GEORGE LUCAS!

In the couple of months after the Disney sale, Lucas developed the Sequels with Michael Arndt in late 2012/early 2013, and concept art was made by artists like Christian Alzmann.

Note: the image on the left got a “Fabouloso” stamp of approval from Lucas!

Lucas’ sequels would feature a Luke Skywalker who was a figure like the jaded, reclusive Colonel Kurtz in the movie Apocalypse Now (which, fun fact, Lucas helped write and was originally set to direct).

The reason why Luke was in self-imposed exile wasn’t specified, all we know is that he was:

hiding from the world in a cave,

haunted by the betrayal of one of his students,

and spiritually in a dark place.

Other concept artists, like James Clyne, tried to illustrate the First Jedi Temple and some of the designs were approved by Lucas, such as the one below.

Eventually, Kira the female Jedi-wannabe protagonist (who eventually became Rey) would seek him out so he can train her.

This Luke would be a much more prominent part of Episode VII (instead of only appearing at the end) but still died at the end of Episode VIII.

For sources and more information about George Lucas’ plans for the Sequel Trilogy, read this post.

The only part that wasn't detailed by Lucas were the specifics of why he went into exile. But all in all, this sounds pretty similar to what we got in The Last Jedi.

"Luke would never try to kill Ben!”

I agree. And he didn’t try to kill Ben. He stopped himself.

And this version of the event?

This didn’t happen.

What Kylo tells Rey is his version of the story. And he thinks he’s telling the truth... but his recollection of the event is warped as this was obviously a very traumatic event for him.

"I don't think he's lying actually. In my mind, that was his experience. [...] I think that it's probably twisted a little bit by Kylo's own anger and his own prejudices against Luke, but I feel like he's actually telling her the truth of his experience." - Rian Johnson, Star Wars: The Last Jedi commentary, 2017

The narrative frames the third version of the story as the one that’s objectively how events went down. Because Rey believes him, and Rey is both the protagonist and a stand-in for the audience.

Now, if you think Luke’s word is unreliable and you have an easier time trusting Kylo’s version of the story, go to town.

But I think that if you actually believe would Luke would never try to kill Ben, you’d take Luke's second retelling of the story at face value.

I know I do.

“Okay, but he would never consider killing a child, like Ben. He saw the good in Darth Vader!”

First off, Luke refers to Ben as "a scared boy" because, he's a middle-aged man. But objectively, Ben was 23 years old.

But also, I mean... with Vader, Luke actually had the luxury ignorance.

Do you think would have truly gone on that Second Death Star if he had actually witnessed Vader:

choke his Padmé,

kill Obi-Wan,

actively try to kill Ahsoka,

murder Jedi younglings,

betray and hunt down his other Jedi brothers and sisters,

and cold-bloodedly kill countless innocents, one by one?

There’s a difference between watching him kill Ben Kenobi (who still ‘lived’ as a ghost and talked to him seconds later) and hearing a couple of rebel pilots get blasted in the trench run, and actually seeing all the horrors he’s committed.

Don't get me wrong, Luke knows Vader is evil, absolutely. But if he had seen this side of Vader, the needlessly cruel side...

... I'm not sure he'd have been as compassionate.

Proof: Obi-Wan, someone who deeply loved Anakin (to the point where he could never bring himself to kill him), someone that genuinely wishes that Luke can redeem him... also feels that, realistically, attempting to do so would be pointless.

And hell, even without really seeing all the massacres Vader committed, the second the latter threatened his sister, Luke went berserk and almost killed him!

So the question becomes:

“What could make Luke - trained Jedi Master, long-time optimist and overall compassionate to a fault - consider killing Ben?”

All we’re told is that he looked into Ben’s mind and saw darkness and the destruction, pain, death, and the end of everything he loves.

The specifics are left to our imagination. They could include:

the sight of Kylo slaughtering his parents and Chewie with a smile on his blood-smeared face,

the smell of Han's burning flesh in the air,

the wails of Chewbacca as he's run through by Kylo,

the faint sound of Leia's tears hitting the ground,

the destruction of the New Republic's citizens and planets.

Whatever it may have been, it was intense. Because Force-induced visions are vivid as hell, as has been shown throughout the franchise.

It's not like watching something on a TV, you're there, all your senses are affected in an extremely powerful way.

And the vision Luke experienced scared him so much that even shortly after it, when looking at a sleeping young man, all he sees is that evil monster from the vision. So he tremblingly draws his saber.

But it's evident that Luke wasn't thinking clearly or rationally.

His base emotions had taken the wheel, he was being tempted by the Dark Side.

"He doesn’t give in to the Dark Side, it’s a moment of temptation to the Dark Side. It reminds me very much of when Vader is tempting Luke, when Luke is underneath the stairs in [Return of the] Jedi, lit with that very beautiful half-and-half, the duality of these two sides of him being pulled. And that’s really what that moment is for me, it’s a moment of temptation to the Dark Side for Luke." - Rian Johnson, IGN, 2017

And yet despite seeing all that... Luke catches himself.

It's not the first time that Luke almost does something horrible to a family member and catches himself. Again, 24 years prior, he almost murdered his own father in a fit of rage.

The scene in Ben's hut intentionally parallels that outburst he has in Return of the Jedi.

A terrible future is presented before Luke.

He reacts instinctively, is tempted by the Dark Side.

He snaps out of it.

Even the angle and framing of the shot is designed to match:

tumblr_video

"Some of these parallels are just “it’s a close-up of the same character” but this one was very intentional. It’s why I had him look down at his mechanical hand holding the saber." - Rian Johnson, Twitter, 2019

The only real difference is that, in Return of the Jedi, Luke only comes to his senses after a frenzied onslaught during which he actively tried to kill his own Dad.

24 years later, despite having witnessed that terrible future even more vividly than he did on the Second Death Star, he catches himself merely seconds later. Instead of going on a whole rampage, he stops the moment the lightsaber turns on.

I'd call that "progress".

"But Luke should've learned his lesson and known better than to give in to the Dark Side!"

Resisting the temptation of the Dark Side is by no means a one-and-done thing. It's not a power-up that you get, it's a constant struggle.

"I think it disrespects the character of Luke by treating him not as a true mythic hero overcoming recurring wounds & flaws, but as a video game character who has achieved a binary, permanent power-up." - Rian Johnson, Twitter, 2019

Dave Filoni says so too.

"In the end, it’s about fundamentally becoming selfless, moreso than selfish. It seems so simple, but it’s so hard to do. And when you’re tempted by the dark side, you don’t overcome it once in life and then you’re good. It’s a constant." - Dave Filoni, Rebels Remembered, 2019

Hell, even George Lucas stated something along those lines:

"The Sith practice the dark side and are way out of balance. The Jedi aren’t as much out of balance because they’re the light side of the Force. They still have the bad side of the Force in them, but they keep it in check. It’s always there, so it can always erupt if you let your guard down." - George Lucas, The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

Learning the lesson once doesn't mean you've learned it forever. Especially with the Dark Side, which poses a never-ending battle.

In-universe examples: Anakin learned to let go of his attachments during the “Padawan Lost” arc of TCW.

A year and a half later, he’s butchering kids because he can’t let go of his attachments.

And during wartime, Yoda found himself repressing his darker instincts and ignoring their existence. Thus, when he had to face them, he struggled to acknowledge and control them.

So considering Luke didn't go "rampage mode" with Ben, as he did when he tried to kill Vader, I think he deserves some credit.

Finally, I've heard this insane argument many times, as a response to the above points:

"Yeah but Luke wasn't actually trying to kill Vader! He was holding back, he was trying to keep him alive!"

And, uh... no. He wasn't.

He lost his shit, folks. And almost killed Vader.

Like, right here?

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t moved his saber to intercept Luke’s blade, Luke would’ve stabbed Vader in the face.

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t held his sword up in time, SWISH, there goes the top of his helmet AT LEAST, if not the rest of his head.

⬆️ If Vader hadn’t dodged he’d be chopped in two.

⬆️ If Vader’s arm gave out slightly sooner, if his blade faltered just a little lower, if he loosened his grip on his saber a bit, Vader would be cleaved in two.

My point is that if you swing at someone with a lightsaber? They’ll get chopped. And if you aim for the head or the chest? You’re trying to kill them.

Before Luke got a grip, throughout that whole rampage, the only thing that kept Vader alive was his own skill.

Otherwise, Luke would’ve murdered him in a fit of rage.

If Luke was holding back, then the theme of "resisting the Dark Side" completely falls apart.

There's no indication that he was restraining himself, in he script.

And just look at the imagery.

Luke is surrounded by darkness, symbolizing how he's being seduced by the Dark Side, he's being tempted to give in to his anger towards the man who hurt his friends and took his hand.

Then Vader threatens Leia.

And the next time we see Luke, he's silhouetted, his face is all black.

Luke was originally trying to hold back and talk Vader down, but fails to control his instincts and gives in to fear, to anger, to the Dark Side... and goes all out.

He swings at his father furiously and keeps swinging, until he cuts off Vader's hand... and he is about to deliver the final blow…

… when he sees Vader’s mechanical hand and realizes that by giving in to his anger, that path will inevitably lead him to become exactly like this half-machine half-man laying at his feet. That’s where the path to power leads.

And so he makes a decision:

He’s a Jedi. Like his father before him. His compassion for Anakin is stronger than his hate for Vader.

That's the narrative intent.

It has to be.

Because if he had been "holding back" throughout that entire bit, then the stakes are lowered immeasurably, John Williams' saddening score is misplaced, the lightsaber choreography is misleading, etc.

For the above-listed reasons, I think Luke's portrayal in The Last Jedi doesn't really contradict anything in the previously-established lore. It works, it's the typical "old cowboy needs to get back in the saddle" trope. Frankly, I can defend this subject all day long... so where's the problem?

The problem comes in at an out-of-universe level. While it's not inconsistent... it's also not satisfying.

The thing is, if you...

... take one of the most brave and optimistic characters in the franchise, then open the film saying "well, now he's jaded and in hiding", without giving us context on how he became that way...

... take a character whose arc was specifically about controlling his emotions, then show him be ruled by those emotions without providing context for what made him do that...

... then that kills the suspension of disbelief, for a lot of fans.

And, as such, they'll have a much harder time going along with what you're saying.

Because "show, don't tell" is one of the most basic principles in visual storytelling. And we weren't shown:

"Ben being increasingly violent during training",

"Luke sitting Ben down and having a talk with him, only to be ignored" or

"the horrors Luke saw in Ben's head".

I have no doubt that those things happened, in-universe.

But if we're talking about a movie-going experience, many were left emotionally-unsatisfied.

Because all that stuff was in there... but only subtextually. It was up to the fans to imagine on the details. Normally, I'd argue that's what Star Wars is all about: allowing fans to dream and think outside the box. But in this specific case, I think many fans would've rather had a more complete and explicit story. Because it's Luke Skywalker.

And yet... even these structural and writing issues had a logic behind them, and if you ask me... there was no other direction that this story could be taken in.

We'll explore this in more detail in part 2/2.

#Luke Skywalker #The Last Jedi #Rian Johnson #Star Wars episode VIII #star wars #jedi order #meta #long post #Ahch-To #in defense of the jedi #episode 8 #Ben Solo #Kylo Ren #Mark Hamill #star wars sequel trilogy

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wisefoxluminary · 1 year

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After watching Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3, I've had a long and hard think about how Peter and Rocket's relationship was portrayed in the film and I think there is clear homoerotic subtext between them. For clarification, homoerotic subtext is when a close friendship between the same sex is portrayed similarly to a romantic one. Here is the instances it was implied throughout the gotg trilogy.

*Spoilers for Guardians of The Galaxy will follow*

When Rocket's life hung on the balance, Peter went to great lengths to save him. Throughout the film, he refers to Rocket as his "best friend". He blames himself for Rocket's injuries as he was drunk at the time and couldn't stop him from getting hurt. When Rocket laid flatlining on the bed and was near death, Peter didn't give up on him. He had hope that he would get out of this alive. He wasn't going to lose another friend. Peter had a heartbreaking, visceral reaction to watching Rocket die before him. He needs Rocket more than anything. He is the one that holds him together even in his darkest moments.

When Rocket comes back from the afterlife, alive and well, Peter hugs him tightly along with Groot, showing how much he cares about him.

"I'm not letting him go"

Peter and Rocket share the same interests in music. They both share ownership of the zune. Rocket can be heard singing along to the music like Radiohead's Creep in the vol.3's prologue. He has formed a special connection to music the same way Quill has had. The connection is utilised when Quill nearly sacrifices his life to get the zune back for Rocket. "I got this back for you" is a very powerful message. Music is the thing that brings them together and makes their bond stronger. His love for Rocket made him get the zune back. It was all in the name of love.

When Peter is away, Rocket would listen to his music as a way of remembering him and to feel that his presence is always with him. Rocket may love to make fun of Quill, but he is everything to him.

Peter and Rocket would argue about who was captain and bicker and throw insults at one another constantly. It was what made up most of the tension between them. They are like a couple arguing, with unresolved sexual tension they choose not to deal with.

Peter has lost so much in his life that he has become a shell of a man. Rocket is scared of losing people and desires to push people away. He blames himself for losing his friends all those years ago and can't bear to lose another. He is scared of disappointing them. They both understand these flaws and help each other work through it.

When the Guardians were in the Kyln Prison in Vol 1, Rocket wasn't afraid to defend Quill from those who desired to kill him. He was his bounty and if they wanted to get through to him, they had to go through him and Groot.

In Avengers Endgame, Rocket wore Star Lord's scarf as a mark of remembrance after his captain was dusted.

Rocket comes to pull Peter out of his drunken state. In that dark period of his life, when he was mourning Gamora in a unhealthy way, Rocket was the only one that was there for him. He took him out of that dark place and was there for him every step of the way.

Peter appoints Rocket captain and leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy at the end of Vol. 3 because he sees so much of himself in him. He has so much respect and honour for the raccoon after everything that he went through, that he needs someone who can protect those who can't fight for themselves. Those who were once in Rocket's position.

In the mid-credits scene, when Rocket and the new Guardians talk about their music tastes, Rocket introduces the team to the song "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone, a song that holds a special place in his heart because it was Peter's favourite song. The way he talks about the song prior to playing it is quite melancholic because it reminds him of Peter. Now that he's gone, he misses him with all his heart.

My personal headcanon is that Rocket had feelings for Peter, but was too angry and stuck in his ways to admit it. When he was drunk, It hurt Rocket to see Peter in such a dark and depressing state. When Rocket gets hurt, it spurs Peter into action and it makes him realise how much he cares about the raccoon.

#roquill #guardians of the galaxy #peter quill #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy vol.3 #homoerotic subtext #peter quill x rocket raccoon #short essay

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antianakin · 6 months

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Sith Ahsoka AU where Ezra doesn't come get Ahsoka in the World Between Worlds (or misses her maybe) and so Ahsoka and Anakin fall through the Sith Battlestation. Ahsoka's connection with Mortis and the Daughter combined with the exploding power of the Sith Battlestation end up glitching and backfiring on Anakin when he tries to kill Ahsoka and he dies instead, while Ahsoka lives but only just.

Palpatine arrives on Malachor to pick up Anakin's pieces and put him back together again only to discover he's too late this time. But Ahsoka is lying there on her last breath, broken enough both physically and mentally to succumb to Palpatine's torture and manipulations and powerful enough to be worth the effort. Yes, she'd make a workable replacement for this loss. And of course everyone who knew her thinks she's dead, so they're not going to come looking for her or try to save her until Palpatine's work is done and he's prepared to present his new and improved apprentice, Darth Malis, to the galaxy.

Ahsoka doesn't re-appear until shortly after the Rebels finale, after Kanan's died and Ezra's disappeared, but still before the events of Rogue One. The plans still make it to Leia and everyone on Scarif dies, but this time it's Ahsoka on the Death Star, capturing Leia and waiting when Obi-Wan arrives with Luke and Han.

And Obi-Wan isn't expecting her at all. He'd been able to feel that Anakin died, but certainly had no way of knowing that Ahsoka had even survived Order 66 let alone that she'd been captured by Palpatine and tortured into becoming his new Sith Apprentice in Anakin's place. He wasn't expecting Anakin to be waiting anymore, but the last thing he could've expected was Ahsoka. He's so glad she's alive, but this is the worst way to discover that fact, and it's a little difficult to be calm in the face of this revelation.

Thankfully, Ahsoka's not expecting Obi-Wan, either. Palpatine, knowing how Anakin had obsessed over hunting Obi-Wan down and banking on Ahsoka thinking no one would ever come to save her or care for her again as a way to break her, had kept that tidbit of information from her. So Ahsoka is just as surprised to see Obi-Wan alive as he is to see her, and she's incapable of doing anything to keep her emotions from controlling her anymore. She's still powerful, and faster than Anakin was, but she's still living on life support of some kind and Obi-Wan's got more practice at handling this kind of grief and pain, giving him the upper hand in the battle. So when Luke and Leia show up, Obi-Wan doesn't need to sacrifice himself to keep them safe, he can overpower Ahsoka and run back to the Falcon with the others.

Most everything stays the same, because the Emperor figures out who Luke is and still wants him as an apprentice instead because Ahsoka is broken and Luke is more powerful. Obi-Wan is able to bring Luke and Leia to Yoda years earlier, so they both get trained up together (and they know that they're siblings the whole time). A few more Jedi survivors show up to help the Rebellion while Obi-Wan, Luke, and Leia are on Dagobah: Reva, Quinlan, Cal, Kata Akuna, Ezra (who is miraculously found prior to ROTJ because I want him there, maybe my man was resourceful and got himself back sans Thrawn all on his own).

When they finally make it to Endor, Obi-Wan and Leia stay on the ground to help the Rebellion while the others all go to confront the Sith with Luke. Luke strikes the final blow against the Emperor and the Rebellion takes out the shield around the Death Star, throwing everything up there into chaos. Ahsoka flees and they all have to give chase. Luke and Reva try to offer her a chance to change, to come back with them, to heal. Ahsoka doesn't take it, and the next time the Death Star is hit, she lets herself fall deep into the Death Star's mass.

Quinlan offers to be the one to tell Obi-Wan that Ahsoka didn't make it. Obi-Wan mourns, but he's also already mourned her. He could tell that there was very little of the girl he'd known left in the monster Palpatine had made of her. She'd rejoined the Force now and she was at peace. He wished she could have found healing and known how much she was loved before she died, but he can't begrudge her this choice, especially since the choice to kill Darth Malis brought the reign of the Sith to its end and restored balance in the Force.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #sith ahsoka #dark ahsoka #sheev palpatine #obi-wan kenobi #reva sevander #luke skywalker #darth malis au

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marvelstars · 10 months

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Anakin Skywalker & Darth Vader politics

One of the first things that got my attention when I started seeing star wars for the first time, was the way the story flowed so easily between action, politics and warfare and just like every other story of its kind, no hero or group of heros get to shine if their villain isnt something of a challenge for them, physical, moral or political and this is where Vader proves to be such a good antagonist.

Vader is someone who isn´t just strong in the force, he´s physicaly strong, he´s terrifiyng, he´s someone who in a New Hope is a highter up of the Empire and in ESB and ROTJ he´s clearly the second in comand of the Empire, Rogue One shows other Grand Moffs, with the exception of Tarkin, wanting to get his approval to get close to the Emperor and in that way obtain greater political power.

We get a glimpse of Vader´s politics in a New Hope, along with his martial role in the Empire as part of the Order of the Sith/former Jedi and his role as enforcer of the Empire, being one of the few highter ups if not the only one, to engage in open warfare with the rebel alliance.

But it´s on ESB when we get to hear his appeal to Luke towards his main motives, we get a sort of "motives of the wolf" Vader´s pov is to rule the galaxy with his Son to put "Order in the Galaxy" and "Stop the destructive conflict between the rebel alliance and the Empire" this is an actually compelling argument, because since a New Hope we could see Vader didn´t cosider the DS necccesary for the Empire, he defended it because it was part of his role within the Empire and didn´t have the power to overrule the Emperor or Takin on it´s use and creation but it isn´t something Vader himself approves personally and actually looks at it as source for greater trouble within the Empire. He after all called it " A Tecnological terror" this coming from Vader who is himself a cyborg used for bloodshed is a very definitive description. Vader hates the Death Star because he thinks it´s a real abomination, to the galaxy in general and to the force in particular.

So we get a character who´s definitely a villain but whose pov comes from a place of wanting to bring stability to the galaxy, this isn´t a character only interested in power for power sake like Tarkin or The Emperor or who wants more personal power for himself for it´s own sake, he suggests to Luke to take on the Emperor once it became clear the Emperor would not allow Luke to live if he didn´t fell to the darkside and this compliments quite nicely the story when it´s revealed Vader used to be a "good guy" the father of Luke and Leia, a Jedi who believed in peace and justice for the galaxy but whose vision was twisted by the darkside and the Emperor, we know how this story ends, with Vader chosing Luke, his family and justice once again at the cost of his own life and the defeat of the Empire an institution in which Vader/Anakin actually believed so it can´t be said Vader didn´t sacrifice everything he had to save the life of his Son and give the galaxy a chance without the Empire ruling it.

The prequel trilogy presents a very interesting reason to the source of Vader´s political ideology, his history was already interesting if he was just a character interested in politics, who became dissapointed in the Jedi Order, Like Count Dooku but what we find the the PT is even more visceral than that, say what you want about Anakin´s political ideology but as a former slave in a lawless world, ignored by a corrupt republic whose check and balances where only there to keep the status quo in which the interest of the banking clan and the corporations were more important than everybody else and not address the different challenges of the wider galaxy, I could see a young Jedi like Anakin thinking

1.- The System doesn´t work

2.- This system is actively hurting for the people of the republic and for my people in particular.

3.- The republic doesn´t care for the slavery being run on it´s very own underworld, it´s happy to ignore it.

4.- The Jedi Order are the guardians or peace and justice but they are not interested in changing the status quo, they are there to keep it.

Those ideas didn´t came just from Obi-Wan´s discourse over his dislike of politicians or Palpatine´s grooming tactics, those ideas come from the person, the kid who once dreamed to "free all of the slaves" and who grew quickly dissapointed when he learned of the reality far away from his homeworld, just like Padme grew dissapointed in the Republic ignoring the plight of her world but unlike her, Anakin had even less tools to bring to the political debate. As a Jedi he could talk and discuss his beliefs with Padme or Palpatine or even Bail Ordana but he knew neither had any oblitation to give much thought about his ideas, especially when they thought it came from a naive boy unfamiliar with politics, he may have been so but he was certainly familiar with the failures of the republic and it´s consequences.

I can easily see a character like this developing the idea the galaxy needed a stronger force to help put order in the galaxy and while he´s made fun of for thinking this way, I don´t think his idea was Palpatine´s Empire or the "Benevolent Dictatorship" like Vader believed in, Anakin´s idea about someone making people agree most probably came from the way he saw the Jedi Order Operate, with Yoda at it´s head, obviously in the Council they all took votes but Yoda´s influence there when there wasn´t an agreetment was clear and I could see this as Anakin´s vision for the republic, which even has some reflections in the real world, on institutions whose main function is to help open debate when the congress is blocked given it´s disagrements.

Anakin´s tragedy, when it comes to his original political beliefs, comes from the fact that he felt the need to forget his own ideals of freeing slaves, to fit himself into the chosen one the Jedi said they needed, even if they weren´t sure about that prophecy and sometimes put it in doubt and Anakin himself often thought it was just a myth, he broke himself up into different pieces to try to appeal to the people important to him or had expectations on him, he tried to be the Jedi the Order needed in times of war, the teacher Ahsoka needed, he tried to be the friend Palpatine expected, believing he genuinely cared for him, he tried to be a representative of the republic by caring for the well being of people around the galaxy and he did all of this no matter the damage to his mind. He tried to be the husband Padme needed him to become once she became pregnant and their marriage was no longer something that could be hidden so he decided to abandon his Jedi identity to be true to his responsibilities as Padme´s husband and father of their children or at least that was his idea before he had the dream of Padme dying.

So when he has his final breakdown, falls to the darkside and his very vision is twisted by the darkside, Padme no longer recognizes her husband because he effectively isn´t thinking like her husband did, Anakin agreed the Republic needed reform and order but not at the cost of an iron fist like Vader believed. So when he told her he wanted to name her Empress and do everything they always wanted to do, she knew those were not the words of her beloved husband but of a broken man led to madness by all the forces around him and by Palpatine in particular, she saw the signs but didn´t expect it to end like this. I believe this is the reason why Padme and not Obi-Wan understood better what happened to Anakin and hence why she insisted he could be brought back, he just was closer to him, knew him in his home on Tatootine and his closenes with Palpatine.

Padme was right, because while Vader´s mind was certainly twisted by madness and the supernatural influence of the darkside and Palpatine´s grooming, his vision of a galaxy in order came from Anakin´s original innocent/idealistic idea of justice and freedom, of a galaxy that could be more fair than it was before. Vader never truly turned to the darkside despite Palpatine´s best efforts, because there was a part of the person Anakin was that stubornly refused to die and his past and identity were a big part of that. This identity is what Luke calls to life on ROTJ, the identity of the person who believed in compassion as unlimited love, who believed in helping each other to lead to a more fair galaxy.

I enjoy a lot all of Anakin´s and Vader´s relationships, I believe all of them have their charm and bring something to the characters involved but I believe his identity or the importance of his political beliefs in both his fall from grace and his redemption are sorely ignored or worse reduced to a meme or a joke and is such a shame because I don´t think Anakin/Vader´s character and story can be fully understood without bringing this part of the him to the discussion.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #padme amidala #obi-wan kenobi #palpatine #yoda #luke skywalker #star wars #prequel trilogy #original trilogy #politics #long post

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eureka-its-zico · 13 days

Text

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

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

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

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

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

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

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

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

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

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

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

Vital.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

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

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

Honesty.

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

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

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

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

More cryptics. More hoops.

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

Halsey needed him.

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

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

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

“Yes, I know.”

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

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

Halsey had found something. Really found something.

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

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

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

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

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

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

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

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

“I was only saying-“

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

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

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

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

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

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

I Should’ve been softer…

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

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

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

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

“A major asshole.”

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

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

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were supposed to be a lucky one.

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

“Yes.”

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

————

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

You were an anomaly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thao, can you come play?”

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure? Caster -“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Thao?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Could you have gone around?

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

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

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned.

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

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

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

Either that or joining the resistance.

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

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

“And there it is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough!”

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

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

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

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

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

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

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

This was a kill zone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you are?”

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

Liar!

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

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

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

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

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

Except this time - no…NO!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

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

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

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

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

“No!”

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

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except that wasn’t what happened.

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

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

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

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

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

“Riz!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

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

This Dr. Halsey.

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

_________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subject Cobalt?

Was that supposed to be you?

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

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

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back.

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

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

“Reach.”

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

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

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

“Are you going to kill me?”

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

“Why would we kill you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What program?”

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

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

UNSC propaganda.

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

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

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

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

“John.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t understand until you did.

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

“What is this?”

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

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

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

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

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

Gone.

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

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

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

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

“What do you need me to do?”

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

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