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aeon2407 · 4 months

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Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 9: Lesser Evil

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

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Imperial Palace, Coruscant

Palpatine was... worried. It wasn’t a feeling he experienced often, but there it was. Vader, his most utilized enforcer, was nowhere to be found, once again chasing down Kenobi, this time somewhere in the Deep Core, right after the initial battle on Krownest was over. That damn obsession the weakling Skywalker had for his old Master would be Vader’s downfall, and Palpatine needed to find a backup apprentice soon. That redheaded boy that’d been harassing his operations would be quite a Sith from what he’d seen, he’d be a suitable replacement.

Thrawn was occupied with Krownest, and until that portion of Mandalorian Space was stabilized he’d be indisposed. Palpatine was aware enough to recognize the Mandalorians for the threat they were. Thrawn was the best option, even if he’d rather have him elsewhere.

And then there were the Tagges. It was no secret to anyone that Domina Tagge was making moves at every moment of every day. He’d hope that having Killian and Sanya Tagge be high-ranking Separatists would’ve weakened The House when the CIS inevitably lost the war, and he’d be able to nationalize TaggeCo as part of the reparations.

He did not foresee Cassio and Domina Tagge committing parricide and completely cutting out the Separatist leadership, or TaggeCo starving the entirety of Serreno when Dooku decided to move on Tagge Space by force. He ruled the galaxy, but the Tagges controlled it, and nothing short of a brutal and public incursion to seize TaggeCo would take that control from them. They were a problem, a problem he didn’t know how to solve.

And was that dread in his stomach? Something was about to happen, he could feel it in the Force, but what?

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Containment Cell Two, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Hera was thinking over the offer. If what Lapin Tagge said was true, the Tagges fully intended to remove Palpatine from power, one way or another. Should they succeed, the Rebellion would be rendered irrelevant and unnecessary unless the Dynasty proved to be just as bad or worse than the Empire. The offer was simple. Join the Armada or any department of their operations and they would guarantee amnesty for her. She’d get a stable paying job no matter which department she chose, along with healthcare and other benefits.

But what made her truly consider it was them saying TaggeCo could restore Kanan’s vision, and that they had an hour to decide before the ISB’s Major Partagaz came to interrogate them and the offer expired. She’d heard of Partagaz before, a Clone Wars hero that was involved in so many secrets his name had to be redacted, leaving only ‘Partagaz’ on his illustrious, medal-filled record. She’d also heard horror stories about his interrogation techniques. The man was psychological warfare personified.

Hera caressed her stomach. She was deciding for two. The offer was made almost an hour ago. She was running out of time. The toggle was flicked. “Tell Lapin Tagge that I accept the offer.”

If any of her family rejected it, she would only be able to watch as they were taken away. The child inside her was the priority now.

It took ten minutes for a guard component to arrive and release her. She looked down the hallway to see Sabine, Kanan, Zeb, and Tristan being guided out of their cells. Chopper was nowhere to be seen, and Ezra was looking at them with stubborn eyes through the ray shields. She wanted to talk to him, to beg that he accepted before it was too late, but that was the moment two ISB officers arrived. She recognized Wullf Yularen, and the other must be Partagaz.

Hera stared back at Ezra with pleading eyes as she was escorted away and the two officers made their way over to her son.

“Where are you taking us?”

“To The Lady. The specifics of your arrangements still need to be made.”

Well then, time to see what her future would look like.

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Recovery Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

“Wait, you two were engaged?” Yana was looking between Yissa and Artur in shock, all three of them now somewhat dressed and on a different bed while Merri blissfully twitched on the other one, barely conscious. Yissa was blushing lightly and Artur just shrugged.

“Our families arranged it. Yissa chose me out of a lineup and Aunt Mina gladly paid the bride price to get the Hammerlys into the blood web. By the way, Yissa, six million was criminally low.”

“Well, I didn’t have much of a say in things, Artur.”

“Alright, cut it out, both of you. What happened after you got engaged?” Yana interrupted before they could argue again. She’d only just managed to make them get along.

Yissa looked at her wyf. “Well, we got engaged, went on a few dates mostly for the publicity, and then on my wedding day I found a note detailing the best route out of the building to the nearest recruiting station. The rest you already know.”

Yana did know. It was broadcasted live a week after the Youth Corps placed her on Corulag. The Runaway Bride, climbing down the side of the Hall of Citizens with no less than thirty kilos of jewelry on her dress, hotwiring a speeder, and gunning it for the nearest Imperial recruiting station will forever be imprinted in her mind. Yissa had inadvertently inspired her.

“Who placed that note there? Did you know?”

“I don’t. Whoever it was didn’t leave a name.”

Artur spoke up. “I do.”

Both women looked at him, and Yissa’s eyes widen as she registered the look on his face. She tackled him in a hug. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

Yana was connecting the dots. Artur left that note, making sure to keep himself from suspicion in the process. Why? Did he not like Yissa? Or was it the arranged marriage he didn’t want? Did he not want to get married? To anyone? To her? What if he-

No. Stop. Bad brain. He loved her, that much she knew. That was enough. Now, just one last thing.

“What are we gonna do about Merri?”

Before any of them could deliberate on it, Lapin poked their head in. “Everyone, check your personal message stack. Artur, Operation Titanfall is a go. Get dressed, you’re needed on the bridge.”

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Conference Room One, The Acquisitor, Tagge Armada

The trip from the Levinbolt to the Acquisitor was silent, save for Lapin relaying instructions to the pilot and giving a clearance code on approach. The Spectres were all huddled in one corner, heads down. They all took the deal. They were selling out. They were leaving the rebels, leaving the cause, behind to save themselves. Chopper was missed, but Lapin had assured her that the droid was safe and untouched, and that she’d get him back eventually. Ezra, on the other hand…

Why was he so damn stubborn? Hera knew why, but this was unwinnable. You didn’t go up against the Tagges and expected to survive. You just didn’t. If it was the Empire she would’ve been right there with him, ready to die before giving up or giving in, but it wasn’t. Unlike the Empire, the Tagges realized that while not everyone could be threatened into submission, anyone could be bought, you just needed to find the right currency.

She had been bought. They offered her a damn good life, and even promised new eyes for Kanan as a ‘signing bonus’. In the end, she was selfish. For once in her damn life, she chose the selfish, self-serving option.

Did she regret it? Maybe. Too late to back away now.

Sabine was staring at her boots, leaning on Tristan for support. Her father was still in the brig, so was her riduur. She needed to use this opportunity to negotiate their releases, secure them protection like what they offered her. Some cynical part of her brain told her to leave her mother out of it. Ursa Wren abandoned her own family, let her see what it felt like. That line of thought did nothing for her guilt.

She was running away again. First her family, now the Alliance. Once a coward, always a coward, she supposed.

A voice snapped them out of their thoughts. “We’re here. Landing now.”

A squad of guards in gray, red, and gold escorted them from the moment they left the shuttle to the moment they walked through the doors of the conference room. Lady Domina was there, sitting at the head of a long table, datapad in hand.

“Captain Syndulla, Commander Dume, Captain Orrelios, Lord and Lady Wren. Sit down, if you please.”

Eyebrows raised at the formal address of their ranks, or title in Sabine’s and Tristan’s cases, but the five of them sat down at the other end of the table.

“I’ve been told that you five have accepted my offer. This meeting is just to finalize some finer details and give each of you a chance to… negotiate.” Her eyes turned to Sabine. “Your parents, in particular, can still be spared, if you can offer me something equally valuable in return.”

Sabine and Tristan both glared at her, rage bubbling up. Their parents were people, not bargaining chips. But to this woman that’s exactly what they were. “What do you want?” Sabine growled.

A smile, deceptively sweet. “A life for a life. Your father, mother, and husband, for Jan Dodona, Gial Ackbar, and Saw Gererra.”

All four sets of eyes widened. “Why Saw? What’s so special about him?”

Sabine felt, rather than saw, Domina’s eyes hardened. A screen appeared in the middle of the table and a news report from HNN was played.

“Controversy from the Senate Building today as Senator Ulric Tagge of Tepasi accused several other senators, including Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, and Bana Breemu, of colluding with notorious terrorist Saw Gererra to cover up a planetwide genocide on Jegsziv, a world in the Expansion Region that has long been classified as a Class-4 bioweapon after a supposed mining disaster infected the planet’s atmosphere. Along with that, new evidence from the ISB has apparently been brought to light on supposed connections between several senators and the insurgent organization known as the Rebellion or the Alliance. All of the accused senators have, at this point, refused to comment on the allegations. This is Alton Kastle, reporting live on HoloNet News.”

She looked at the four stunned rebels. “Before you ask, no, that wasn’t propaganda. The allegations are real. Every single one of them.”

Kanan could feel the truth from Domina Tagge, so at least she fully believed what she was saying, and he told the rest of them as much. Hera was disgusted. Not exactly surprised, not with Saw, but she was surprised about Senator Organa or Mon Mothma covering it up.

Regardless, there were also the connections between the senators and the Alliance. If those charges stuck, and the ISB being confident enough to arrest two prominent senators publicly was alarming, the Alliance would lose their best assets in the Core, their eyes and voices in the Senate, and would also have to mount a rescue mission that was likely an ambush.

No matter which way this went, the Alliance just took a possibly lethal blow. Morale would be low, and if either of the senators talked the Empire would have enough information to rout the entire rebellion.

Sabine was… glad. Shamefully, she was glad. If the Alliance was doomed, then there was almost no reason for her to stay when there was an alternative that would end up overthrowing the current regime anyway, and with many more resources under them. Wait. Idea.

“How would you feel about including Alliance personnel into the deal? My parents, Ezra, and the Alliance. The same deal you offered me.”

Domina raised an eyebrow. Bold, this one. Expectedly so, but still bold. “Unlike your Alliance, Lady Wren, I operate on guarantees, not hope. Defined terms. Hard boundaries. So, make me a proposal, and I will consider it. Until then, this negotiation will be strictly focusing on your immediate family.”

Shoulders sagging, Sabine nodded regardless. It was objectively reasonable. The Lady was being generous enough. Testing that generosity was not the best idea, not right now. “Fine, but I’m coming back to that later. I’m not leaving them to fend for themselves, not if I can help them.”

A nod. “Fair enough, although you understand that you need to betray two important rebel commanders to get your parents back, don’t you?”

Hera took control of the situation before Sabine could answer. “We need some time to discuss. And some privacy.”

Lapin looked at Domina, got a nod, and escorted the four rebels into a side room. “You have five minutes. Again, I hope you choose wisely.”

Hera waited until the door is shut before turning around. “I’m going to ask this very seriously. Are we going to give up Admiral Ackbar and General Dodona to save the Wrens and Ezra?”

Sabine looked around. If it was just up to her, she would do it in a heartbeat. At least Dodona and Ackbar had a chance to escape whatever ambush was coming their way. The others were doomed if they couldn’t help them, right here, right now. Her found family seemed to share that line of thought, and Kanan confirmed that Domina was being truthful.

“I’m not part of this Alliance, and this is a choice between two strangers and my parents for me. I’m choosing my parents.” Sabine nodded in agreement at her brother’s statement. Despite what her mother’s actions might have indicated, family truly was everything to a Mandalorian.

It came to a vote. Zeb was hesitant, but eventually he relented that at least the two rebel commanders had a chance to evade capture. Hera looked around. “Alright, we’ll tell Domina where to find them. Hopefully they can escape. Now, what about Gererra?”

Sabine looked at Tristan. “I have an idea, but I need you to agree to it.”

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“So, do you have a proposal for me?”

Sabine stared at those eyes, those icy blue eyes, and almost buckled. Somehow, the woman looking at her was more terrifying than most of the beings she’d encountered so far. “Yes. We’ll give you intel on Ackbar and Dodona, in exchange for my father, Ezra, and protection for any Alliance personnel that wants it.”

“And Gererra?”

“We don’t know where he is.”

“Shame. Amnesty for your father, Commander Bridger, and consideration for any defecting Alliance personnel in exchange for Ackbar and Dodona. That’s my final offer.”

Sabine looked around, getting one last round of confirmation. “Done, but we need to get them back before you get your intel.”

“Perfectly reasonable. What about your mother?”

A second of hesitation. Domina analyzed it. Ah, so that was how she wanted to do this. If her guess turned out to be correct then Wren was more ruthless than she thought.

Her guess was proven right when Sabine turned back to her. “She abandoned her son. Her family. Let see how she likes it.”

Domina smiled. “As you wish. Lapin, arrange transport for Alrich Wren and Ezra Bridger from the Levinbolt. Now, regarding your positions within TaggeCo, have any of you given any thought as to what you want to do?”

Hera was the first to speak. “Piloting. I want to fly, and none of that orbital nerfshit either. I want to travel deep space.”

Lapin checked their datapad. “There’s always a cargo pilot position open at TaggeCo, and 3rd Scout Platoon on the Enterprise is requesting a new pilot. I’m guessing you’d want a job away from combat?”

Hera frowned. “How’d you figure?”

A pointed glance at her stomach. Of course they knew. Of course. “Yes, I’d like something calm for a while at least. I’m guessing I’ll be hauling cargo across the galaxy?”

“Not right away. There’s a training course on procedures and protocol, then you’ll fly shorter deliveries first. Understand that all of you are effectively on parole, and you will be treated as such. You will be under surveillance, your movements and access will be restricted, and you can be subject to randomized check-ins from a TaggeCo enforcer at any time. This is the only way to peacefully keep Great Uncle Wullf off your backs.”

Hearing Colonel Yularen, Scourge of the Rebellion, referred to as ‘Great Uncle Wullf’ was jarring, but Hera forced herself to move on. “I’ll also need the Ghost back. It’s a modified freighter, I can use it for deliveries.”

Went unsaid was that the Ghost has been her home for over a decade, and she didn’t want to lose it too.

Domina shook her head. “TaggeCo has very strict standards for the vessels in our fleet. Besides speed, the Ghost doesn’t meet any of them. You can have it back as a personal spacecraft after the ISB is done examining it.”

The tone left no room for debate. Once again, Hera had no desire to get on this woman’s bad side. Domina turned her gaze to Kanan. “Every freighter requires a copilot and a security officer. Once we restore your sight you can get both certificates in three months. Would that be acceptable, Commander Dume?”

Kanan frowned. “It is, but how did you know-?”

“Your original name? We have access to the Jedi Archives, Commander, including the list of members and their blood samples. A simple DNA test was sufficient.”

His brows shot up. “You have access to the Archives!?”

“A replica of it, yes.”

“How!?”

A chuckle. “A Lady needs her secrets, Commander. A Tagge even more so. Now, your surgery is scheduled for tomorrow, and you all will be processed into our system a week later.”

Her eyes turned to Sabine and Tristan. “If either of you want to join the Armada, there are positions available for you both in either Weapons or Engineering. All enlisted, no officer posting. The next intake for the NCO Academy is full so you both will have to start at Private E-1. Not to worry, with your skill you’ll be promoted to Spec-4 soon enough. Any further and you’ll have to take the NCO exam.”

Sabine thought about the ranks for a second. “Wait, you-“

“Use the same rank structure as the Imperial Army? Yes, up to Marshal. No sense fixing a system that works. The Navy ranks are similar.”

Sabine thought about it. “And you’re sure there are no officer posts for us?” Being an officer would come with privileges and authority, and they’d also get paid more.

Domina shook her head. “No, but even if there were neither of you have a baccalaureate, so you’re both ineligible for commission. You’ll be given the opportunity to earn one as you serve, but I’d recommend rising through the enlisted ranks first before you go for a commission.”

Sabine looked at Tristan. He nodded. He wanted to keep fighting. “We’ll enlist.”

Lapin tapped their datapad. “You’ll be sent to our primary facility on Tepasi for basic training, then assigned to a ship or a planetside base. We’ll make sure you two are assigned together. I’m classing you both as Weapons Engineers. Your new uniforms and rank devices will be provided before you leave. Here are your contracts, take your time reading, feel free to ask any questions.”

While Sabine and Tristan read through the contracts, Lapin shifted to Zeb, who was offered the chance to become a Dax by Master Ordis and was eager to take it. While the Armada patrolled and protected Tagge Space, the Dax acted as protectors of Tepasi itself. The elite warrior sect of the Temple of Lotus, the symbol of Tepasi faith, and under the command of the revered Grandmaster Teshin, who was once a Dax himself, they protect and serve Tepasi, not any family or faction.

Zeb had met them before, when he escorted the Royal Family to Tepasi for a diplomatic trip. They were honorable and just. To be a Dax would be an honor.

Lapin finalized some of the paperwork. “Well, if you’d come with me, Commander Dume, we’ll get you prepped for surgery. Any preferences on eye color?”

Kanan turned his head to Hera, feeling her out in the Force. “Blue. Bright blue.”

“Done. Follow me. You can accompany him, Captain Syndulla. Captain Orrelios, you’ll need to swear in and be initiated into the Tepasi faith. Seeker Rell will guide you to the ship’s prayer room to get the process started.”

A short man in a white set of leather armor approach the door, hood drawn up to the forehead and head bowed. “Follow me, Initiate Garazeb. I will guide you on the first few steps of your new journey.”

Zeb shot one last look at Tristan and Sabine, still sitting at the table. He waved them goodbye, nodded at Kanan, saluted Hera, then followed the Seeker out. A new journey. An honorable one.

Sabine waved him off. “Will we get to see him again?”

“That depends on scheduling. You’re allowed leave while on duty, and the Dax have ample free time between shifts and missions. Captain, Commander, if you two will stay here a while more, your exchanged prisoners are docking now.”

The door opened five minutes later, both Ezra and Alrich escorted through the threshold in cuffs. Ezra was also sporting a Force dampener around his neck. Kanan felt a chill through his spine. He could hear his apprentice, and by tomorrow he would be able to see him, but he couldn’t feel him. Where there should’ve been a bright conduit of the Force, there was only… a Human. A normal Human. It was jarring, and terrifying, and… stop. Stop that line of thought. As long as Ezra could behave, he’d be just fine.

Things would be just fine. As long as The House kept its word and there were no other complications.

…

He just jinxed them all, didn’t he?

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Docking Bay 74, Coruscant Spaceport, Coruscant

One ‘Codi Lerobi’ checked through customs at the spaceport and made his way to the central hub. He needed to get information, reorient himself with the Core, then make it back to Bay 81 in time for his flight to Tepasi. He didn’t notice the plainclothes ISB spoof sending a message through his comms.

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The Stinger Mantis, Tanalorr, Koboh Abyss

Life was good for Cal Kestis. He had an integral part in the Hidden Path, he had a daughter to care for, friends to hang out with, a safe world to settle on, and, after a slip up with Merrin about using his last name on her citizenship forms since she didn’t have one of her own, he had a very scary and very loving wife.

So of course the galaxy decided that now was the perfect time to drop a bomb in his lap.

“Kestis? It’s Jung. Obi-Wan Kenobi is on Coruscant. He has a ticket to Tepasi at 2115 today under ‘Codi Lerobi’. I got a holo enclosed with this message as proof. Thought you’d want to know. Gonna try to keep ISB away from this as long as I can. Jung out.”

Cal tried his best to not get his hopes up as he opened the file and looked at the holo. That… that was Master Kenobi. No doubt about it. Older and rougher, but that was him. He should… he should go meet him, right? At the very least Master Kenobi would be safe on Tanalorr, and a Jedi like him surely had many things to teach.

But he promised Kata he’d be there for her natal day next week, and Merrin was so excited about it…

“BD, calculate travel time for me. Here to Coruscant.”

“Beep boop.”

He winces. “How about to Tepasi?”

“Beep beep boop.”

“That’s better. We’re going there. Extraction job, quick and easy. No one needs to know, right?”

“Boop boop bah.”

“Don’t be like that. She won’t even notice! Come on, get the engines started.”

They were just lifting off when his comms cackled to life. “Cal, where are you going?”

Cal froze. Shit. She was supposed to be busy with some ritual in the basement. “Just a quick check in with a contact, making sure everything’s still safe over there.”

“Over where?”

“Uhhhh…. Naboo. Yeah, the cell on Naboo. I’ll be back in two, three days tops. Tell Kata I love her?”

“…You don’t need backup?”

“Uh, no. No, it’s okay. Just a standard check in, shouldn’t be any trouble. Besides, one of us needs to arrange things for Kata’s natal day and we both know I’m useless.”

“Yes you are. Alright, be safe. You take care of him, BD.”

“Beep boop.”

“Alright, gotta go. I love you, Merrin.”

“Love you too, Cal.”

“Beep beep bah!”

“Yes, and you, BD.”

Cal laughed as the comms cut off. “Alright BD, set course for Tepasi and take us out.”

Time to get a Jedi Councilor back. What could possibly go wrong?

5 notes · View notes

aeon2407 · 8 months

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Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 8

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

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Recovery Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Yana couldn’t slice the door. Whoever was in charge of The House’s cybersecurity was almost as good as Odo, which meant they far outstripped her. “All right, they're not going to let us out. Let’s have it.”

She was a direct person by both nature and nurture, and sometimes got very confused around highborns, which both Artur and Yissa were. More than that, they came from two prominent lines of Founders. But Artur was Army, and Yissa was disowned, so this might just work.

Artur tapped into his electro-tattoos and tried to forcibly override the control panel, not realizing that Lapin programmed it to fry anyone opening it from the inside. Ended up with his ass on the floor and his tattoos steaming, groaning in pain.

At the moment Yana was glaring at both of them, tears starting. Her chest hurt and her heart was trying to rip its way out of her chest. “You deserved that. I'm not going to fight both of you. I'm tired and I have seppies to squish. Let's have it out. All of it. Now. I love both of you. I chose you, Yissa, which is apparently not enough. Artur, I chose the Chimaera because - as Lady Domina said - I wanted to fly, not nest. I was twenty. I needed to find out who I am. And I did. Who I am is not someone who puts up with this pussyfooting around and highborn head games. Both of you shoot straight with me, or both of you let me go."

There was silence for a few seconds. Yana was just about to give up when Artur spoke.

“You know how I feel, Yana. It hasn't change. I love you, and if you want to share yourself between me and Yissa I’ll accept it. I...” A sigh. “I just want to be with you, by your side, all the way.”

Yana turned to Yissa. “I chose you. Is that enough?” She was very lucky to be loved by both, but if it made one or both unhappy she'd walk. Nobody deserved to have love used like a knife in the heart.

Yissa looked at her, then Artur. She was seeing him in somewhat of a new – or rather old – light, the light that made her choose him out of the list her parents gave her all those years ago.

She was also coming to terms with the fact that her mistrust of him, from the moment he stepped foot onto the Chimaera, had nothing to do with him being a Tagge, and everything to do with her not believing that she’d be enough to keep Yana from leaving her and coming back to him. Artur was just so… him, and she’d been so wrapped up in those thoughts she’d failed to notice the love and trust her lover, her wyf, gave her. “Yes, Yana. It's enough.”

Yana exhaled. Worst part is over. “All right. Do either of you have any more issues with me?” Both of them shook their heads. “No issues? Good. Now we can talk about how this is gonna work going forward.”

Both of them were looking at her as if she was supposed to be leading them, as if they didn’t both outrank her. “You can both have me, but you have to work out your issues with each other before that can happen. If I take both of you, it is all the way. Absolutely equal. I have your backs, you have mine, and you need to have each other’s. It's a mean old galaxy full of assholes – we have to be a unit.”

Artur had no problems with Yissa as far as she could tell. Yiss was the one who needed some work here. The Sensors Officer was refusing to look either of them in the eyes, ashamed of herself now that she had time to reflect.

Yana came to her. Luckily she was short and could look Yissa in the eyes from multiple angles. Nothing really needed to be said. Well, that wasn’t true, but it could wait. For now, Yana simply wrapped her arms around Yissa's front and her wyf started crying.

And Yana was a sucker. Yana was the comforter and the make-better one. “I love you. I always will. I will never stop. Even if I die.”

“I know that Yana. I know. It's just... I see the way you look at him, and then I find out about little pieces of your relationship through Jash and Aylin, and it just feels like even though you love me, you'll still realize that he's the better choice. The one that truly has your heart.”

“But do you see the way I look at you? There is no better choice. You’re both unique, amazing.”

And she was truly crying now, bawling in Yana's embrace.

Artur kept his eyes averted, admittedly a little uncomfortable with seeing his ex-fiancé this vulnerable. He had the same conversation with himself their second year, same doubts about whether Yana would fall out of love with him and find someone new. Someone better.

He had Revy, Aunt Mina, and the Twins there to set him straight. Yissa didn't even have family to turn to without breaching professional boundaries.

Yana would never abandon Yissa. Yissa – like her – had no family, disgraced and disowned when she ran from her own wedding to enlist. They've been family since six months after Thrawn came to the Chimaera.

Once Yissa was done crying and Yana released her, Artur scooted closer. Gently, slowly. She was still emotional, easily spooked. He looked at her and opened his arms with a soft, faint smile. She sank in, muttering apologies into his shirt as they hugged. He didn’t say anything, but she understood.

All was forgiven.

Yana’s comlink chimed and she deftly switched it off, hugging Yissa from the back. The graft on her shoulders throbbed and was promptly ignored.

However, she was troubled. Her family was the Chimaera, her loves Yissa and Artur. They could go back, all three of them. Phyrre, Jash, and Odo already liked Artur and they would accept him into the circle the way they did Yissa. In her own opinion she was not ready for command, but she knew it was inevitable at this point.

Cherno and Vergilio were of the opposite view. She got tossed in the deep and and came swimming in like a fireswan. Thrawn happened to agree with them. She had been forced to grow into a command no smaller than that of an Imperial Navy Commander, four ranks above her own, and had flourished. Faro thought that she could use another year or two before her first official command, but that she was ready if needed.

Yana was getting that promotion, whether she liked it or not.

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Command Bridge, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Phyrre watched the security feed with glee. A pool has already been started fleetwide. Jash had a month’s pay on a triad marriage, Odo on a concubine. She had her own pay on a classic husband-wife-wyf setup. Lapin was vibrating with excitement in the command chair, already picking out dresses.

The core family and relevant blood ties were already informed and Cassio, being Baron, was in charge of preparations to bring Pyrondi into the aristocracy. Yissa was already a Lady before being disowned so she was a simpler case.

Meanwhile, Tonio was having a fit. His best Weapons Officer AND his best Sensors Officer!? POACHING!

Lapin decided that their job here was over. “Captain Virgilio, the bridge is yours.”

“Copy that, Marshal.”

“Prepare my shuttle. I’m going back to the Acquisitor.”

“Yes, sir. Informing hangar technicians now.”

When it came to wedding preparations, especially for The Eldest of The Eldest, it was best to discuss things in person.

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Executive Quarters, The Acquisitor, Tagge Armada

“They might want to be married in uniform. Lady Ilyana might need to marry Lady Yissa first, then marry Artur. The Hammerlys will have tookas.”

Domina considered things. “The Hammerly Family won't accept being merged into House Tagge, Lapin. Their pride as a fellow Founder won't allow it.” That would be a problem.

“They disowned Lady Yissa, my Lady - finders keepers, losers weepers.” Red dress. Red and gold. Tagge colors. “Lady Yissa has a little bit leftover from draining her trust fund, but that's the last of her connection to that family besides her name. And I think Artur prefers to be married in Special Forces colors. Maybe the red Barony Sash on top?”

“Still, Tagges are expected to be of a certain… financial state. It’ll be a substantial amoun-“ A pause to look at Yana’s business account.

Lapin shrugged. “Lady Ilyana bought an older Arquetiens after graduation so her accounts are a little low. None of the Nerds have needed to work since they founded Find Out Inc. and patented the Pyrondi System. They could retire tomorrow and be very comfortable.”

The Nerds, formerly the Four Demons of Royal Imperial, were millionaires, one and all. Pyrondi System, KYS System, Invisi-Hull, PNM, there were a dozen patents under their names, consolidated into Find Out Incorporated. They made more a month in royalties than Thrawn did a year as Grand Admiral. “Why didn’t Yana, or the rest of the Nerds, use their wealth to find accommodation on Canto Bight? Why ask Artur?”

Lapin looked into it. “Hmm. All of their fees are on autopay, but otherwise I don’t see any activity on any of their company accounts for the past two years. My guess? They forgot that they’re rich. They seem humble enough to not focus on wealth.”

Domina smirked as she opened her comlink. “Let’s test that theory, shall we? Phyrre, my dear, I have a question for you.”

An audible gulp. Adorable. “What is it, Lady Domina?”

“Do you remember Find Out Incorporated?”

“Of course. My friends and I founded it in our third year at Royal to patent the Pyrondi System. What about it, my Lady?”

“Why didn’t you use the royalties to get accommodations while on leave? You have more than enough.”

A very telling silence. “You all forgot about those accounts, didn’t you?”

A sigh. “Yes we did.”

“That’s all I need to know. Thank you, darling.”

Lapin was chuckling. Typical nerd behavior. Domina giggled in amusement as she ended the call. “Take a million from Yana as a dowry. That should appease the more traditional relatives. Recommend investments and saving plans for the rest. If she's going to be a Tagge, she's going to be a proper one. That means adding extra zeroes to this number, Lapin. Get it done.”

“Of course, auntie.”

“Also, offer the Nerds jobs. Multiple options, salaries in the third bracket should do nicely.” It would be beneficial to keep her friends close by. She'd need a support network to deal with life as a Tagge.

Lapin handed her a datapad. “A list of those from the 7th approaching retirement, or who might be waffling on renewing commissions. If we want Thrawn, we have to offer more, and we can.” The Dynasty had outlived more regimes than they had fingers and toes. The Seventh had nearly 3000 ships, split into multiple task forces. They could beat it.

Domina had been interested in Thrawn ever since he was a lieutenant. Wanted him in the Armada when he made Captain. Now was her chance. “Sources close to Cassio told me that Thrawn joined the Navy to protect his people with a military force.” A Pause. Ah. Idea. “Is the High Marshal position open, Lapin?”

A corresponding Pause. “It can be. Where are you going with this?”

A Resign Sigh. This was the best option she could see. “Offer him the Armada. All of it.”

Shocked silence. “Are you sure, Lady Domina?”

Domina noted the formal address. Lapin was serious. “Yes, I am. Thrawn has proven himself loyal to the hand that provides for him. We need to make sure that it's my hand.”

The Armada itself could confront the Imperial Navy head-on. A million ships, including thirty thousand Domina-Class capital ships, armed to the teeth with the best hardware money couldn’t buy. Consolidated yet modular and flexible in deployment. Over two billion soldiers, all highly trained and carefully vetted. Unlike the Imperial Academies, TaggeCo spared no expense and cut no corners in making sure that their troops were the best in the galaxy.

If Thrawn accepted, eighty percent of the 7th would go with him. All of the women in the fleet would. Domina wanted that fleet. It was only ever Thrawn, maybe that mathematical genius aide of his, but this? This was a prize. She told Lapin to handle the talent acquisition, and also to discuss with Artur about an open Marshal position. Time to bring the man home. Most, if not all, of 1st SCAR would come with him. Yet another prize that she couldn’t pass up.

Palpatine would do nothing against her. He couldn’t. If the Dynasty collapsed, TaggeCo collapsed. If TaggeCo collapsed, the Empire would be reduced to the Core and nothing else. The Seswenna sector would go all in with Tepasi, and the Expansion Region with Seswenna. Tagges around the galaxy had their hooks in the Inner Rim, Mid Rim, Outer Rim, even the Unknown and Wild Space. If he killed the Dynasty, 95% of the Empire would die with it.

She checked on the status of Spearhead, then kicked her plan into action. Lucrative job offers by the millions were sent out to every name on the list. All she needed were for the Nerds and Thrawn to accept and the rest would follow. She’d essentially be annexing the 7th Fleet into the Armada.

Vader made use of the shock and confusion to slip a sighting of Kenobi into the records, then mobilized the Inquisitors and left for Byss. He’d get rid of them once they were there. Lapin prepared to welcome the Grand Admiral and Commander Vanto. Lady Karyn too, after a moment’s consideration. There were offers on the table in the form of insignias, gleaming on the literal table.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thrawn analyzed the room. The decoration was subtle, yet prominent. An air of elegance, and also an intimidating yet subtle statement of their strength and wealth. Interesting. Meanwhile, Karyn reminisced on the few times she’d been here before, when she was still fooling around with Cas.

Eli stared at the insignias on the table. High Marshal, Fleet Admiral, Vice Admiral. Looked at Thrawn. “They're handing over their armada. All of it. To you. Now.”

Thrawn raised an eyebrow and looked at Lapin, who nodded. “Yes, we are. In exchange, we want you to secure an expansion of Tagge Space to every available system nearby, and improve our officers' tactical prowess. We've also sent offers to every member of the 7th that potentially wants to come with you, which is to say most of them.”

Thrawn’s mind was processing this admittedly unexpected turn of events. They have just offered him everything he could’ve wanted in an ally. After all, nothing was more incorruptible than a Tagge’s self-interest.

Lapin cleared their throat. “But first, I want to know what you think about… overthrowing the Empire?”

The first response was quick to come. “Are you with the Rebellion?”

A scoff. “Oh Margulis no. I stand with my family, Grand Admiral. That won’t change anytime soon.”

“I assume the Dynasty intends to replace the Empire?”

“We do. How do you feel about that?”

Eli knew that Thrawn had been bound ever tighter to the Empire, and that if Eli himself was having doubts lately, that Thrawn was having them, too.

And, on the surface level alone, Thrawn was just handed over three hundred times the amount of ships he had as Grand Admiral, even more firepower, and as much funding as he desired to finish the Defender Project. Although, the project could technically be scrapped and the Sienar contract terminated, then a similar project could be created at TaggeCo. Eli would handle that. His CO had no subtlety.

Thrawn weighed every factor like always. The Empire was so dependent on TaggeCo that it would cease to be without them. The House of Tagge was an empire of its own. Why not just replace the entire regime? It would be risky, especially with Palpatine's Sithly nature, but it could be done.

He picked up the insignia and the Force wobbled. In a cell on the Levinbolt, Ezra felt his heart seized up and his stomach dropped, feeling like his destiny just got bitchslapped.

Eli assumed that Fleet Admiral was for Faro, so he picked up the last one. Vice Admiral. Flag rank. Still an aide, mind, probably Chief Aide, but Vice Admiral Vanto had a very nice ring to it. He looked at Thrawn. The message was clear. ‘You go, I go.’ Faro was telling him the same thing with her eyes.

All three of them took their plaques off, put the insignias on, and sat down. Lapin smiled from the head of the table. Lady Domina would be so pleased. The Rebellion’s command would be decimated once they started, but the rest would have to be put on the backup engine. They'd serve as a distraction while the Tagges pulled off the coup of the millennium. No prolonged battle, no great war. Subtle setups, then one night to assassinate Palpatine and the galaxy would have an Empress Tagge on the throne.

“Welcome to the Tagge Armada, High Marshal, Admirals. Shall we get to work?”

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Deputy Director’s Office, ISB Headquarters, Coruscant

Partagaz and Yularen were having lunch and chatting at Yularen’s desk when the intel came. Domina was essentially annexing the 7th Fleet into the Armada. They looked at each other. The coup has begun. Time to put their control of the ISB to good use.

Partagaz got a request from General Tagge to get himself to Krownest for ‘extensive and advanced interrogation of the Spectres. Immediately made his way back to his office to pack. Yularen called for his private shuttle. No way was he missing this.

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Imperial High Command, Coruscant

Motti heard about the poaching attempt from Domina a little while ago and now he was in a crisis. At first, he had been glad. Thrawn produced results, yes, but the Chiss did it a little too well and he wouldn’t have put it past Palpatine to eventually make him Naval Chief, kicking Motti himself out of the IHC in the process.

Then he heard that every woman in the 7th would be going with him and he was elated. Women in the Navy was fine, but Thrawn’s command was nearly 25% women, with women in senior command positions. That felt weird to a man like Motti, and so he was glad that they were leaving.

And then he sat down and thought about it. About 20% of the 7th as a whole was expected to stay. That was over a million sailors that were, while undoubtedly talented, too off-center for the other fleets. Where would they go?

Maybe he’d encourage transfers to the Army, make it Cassio’s problem. His cousin’s been complaining about a shortage of skilled officers anyway.

Palpatine wouldn’t be happy about losing his largest fleet, but Conan Antonio Motti didn’t make Naval Chief by not knowing how to nerfshit his way out of things.

His comlink chimed. Not the work one, not the personal one. The hidden one. He reached in and checked it with shaking hands. ‘Operation Titanfall is live. Stage One.’

If he got this message, Uncle Wil and Uncle Wullf got it too, so would Uncle Hurst, Uncle Moradmin, and Siward. The entire High Command was in on this, besides Vader that was.

Another message. “Vader is in.”

HOW THE KR-

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Command Bridge, The Visionary, First Fleet

Karyn finally got that fleet she always wanted. It was with the Armada instead of the Imperial Navy, but the feeling was still incredible. Lapin had told her to get use to her new flagship, the Visionary, so she made her way there while Thrawn and Eli went back to the Harbinger.

Karyn expected many things as she stepped into the bridge. She didn’t expect her ex to be there, looking out the viewport.

“Cassio. Oh kriff me”, she groaned.

He turned around, that damn smirk on his lips. “Not exactly the best place, Karyn, but if you insist…”

“Kriff off, Cas.”

She was happy to see him, but damn her if she ever let him know it.

He chuckled. “The fleet is yours, Fleet Admiral Faro.”

It was hers. All hers. Finally. Time to overthrow a regime.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Command Bridge, ISD Harbinger, Seventh Fleet

High Marshal Thrawn. That would take some getting used to. Eli hadn’t expect to call him anything besides Admiral or Grand Admiral for the rest of his career. Vice Admiral Vanto, though… That was just fun to say in his head. He was finally flag rank, and now to see who’d accept it. Thrawn took his seat.

“Lock down the ship, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir.”

A click on his armrest comm.

“Attention crew of the Harbinger, this is Thrawn. As of twenty standard minutes ago, I have resigned my commission with the Imperial Navy and accepted an offer to become High Marshal of the Tagge Armada. My mission is to lead a coup against Emperor Palpatine and instate Lady Domina Tagge as Empress. Most of you have already received your own offers. Whether you accept them or not is your own prerogative, but should you accept, report to the secondary hangar bay in one hour. Should you not accept, report to the primary hangar and you will be allowed to leave. Whether you warn Imperial High Command or not will be irrelevant. Thrawn out.”

Another click to cut the feed. “Monitor all attempts of outside contact, Lieutenant. Report to me immediately and have them detained.”

“Right away, sir. And sir?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Long may you serve, High Marshal.”

Thrawn’s lips quirked up slightly. Long may they all serve.

A chime on his sensors. Ah, Colonel Yularen and Major Partagaz were here to question their prisoners. Good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Galactic Senate Chamber, Imperial Senate Building, Coruscant

Ulric was already preparing for the next Senate session when The Message came, followed immediately by an information package from Uncle Wullf. Evidence proving Mon Mothma, Breha Organa, and a slew of aristocrats and senators covered up the genocide on Jegsziv to save Saw Gererra’s ass, financial ties between Mothma, Organa, and the Rebellion, recordings of Leia Organa’s holocalls to rebel agents to plan the theft of her own ships…

Everything he needed to have them kicked off the Senate was there. The ISB was already standing by for arrests, simply waiting for him to present the data in front of the Senate and on record.

And so he did.

“The Senator for Tepasi has the chamber.”

“Thank you, Grand Vizier. Fellow senators, something has come to my attention just this morning that I feel requires an immediate response. If you all check your datapads, I have sent you the same information package I received from Colonel Wullf Yularen. Alarming, yet irrefutable, evidence of several beings in this very chamber covering up a planet-wide genocide, a genocide that killed over a billion people, just to save one man from rightfully being prosecuted for his crimes: Saw Gererra, a known insurgent that has been on the Empire’s Most Wanted list since its conception for charges such as terrorism, mass murder, and biological warfare.”

A deep breath.

“Inside that package, you will also see evidence financially connecting Senator Mon Mothma and Senator Bail Organa to the insurgent group known as the Rebellion, along with ISB recordings of Princess Leia Organa orchestrating with rebel agents on ways to steal Alderaanian ships for the rebel fleet. Senators, I motion for the removal and arrest of those named and accused by this evidence until a proper investigation into their crimes is completed.”

The vote was as one-sided as he predicted. Once Riyo Chuchi, a vocal supporter of Mothma’s, voted against her own friend with a horrified and disgusted look on her face, Ulric knew it was over.

In the end, they arrested Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, a host of other senators previously held in high esteem, and ISB troopers were moving to contain Alderaan and arrest Queen Breha.

The Grand Vizier and Emperor Palpatine ended the session early once it became clear that the Senate was too chaotic to be productive. Ulric smiled privately. His part was done.

Now he simply hoped that the others could do their parts.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Recovery Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Yissa had some time to think as she got a double hug. Did she like men? Or was it just Artur? She didn’t bed men, that was certain, but loving them? Hmm.

She decided to experiment, putting a hand on Artur's jaw and guiding him closer. Silently asked permission before tentatively meeting his lips with her own.

There was a fluttering in her chest that definitely wasn’t there the first and last time she kissed a man years ago. Yana was not going to disturb this. However, she found that watching them kiss felt Good. Yissa pulled him in closer, moaning lightly as Yana slid her hands up and under, then roamed. Things were heating up and she was glad.

Merri Barlin was in the corridor outside the medbay, trying to listen in and nursing a gigantic crush on Artur, and slightly smaller ones on Yissa and Yana.

Phyrre saw, snuck up behind her, unlocked the door, pushed her in, then relocked the door.

Her eyes widened. Yissa was spread wide, Yana stuffing her face between her legs while Artur railed her from behind.

They stared at her. She stared at them. Blushed. Stammered out an apology and tried to unlock the door.

Yissa recognized the marks of a Phyrre and Jash tag teaming. Meanwhile, Yana was melting into the bed, Artur making sure she came again before pulling out. Merri’s eyes widened even more at the size. She… Had Not.

Yissa patted the bedding. “Come.”

Merri obeyed the order like a good sailor. Looked at Yana. The little carnivore had been kriffed nonverbal and was currently the consistently of pulled taffy. “Well um… What now?”

Twin smirks answered her. Merri shivered with anticipation.

Oh well, to hell with it. “Yes.”

#star wars #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #star wars rebels #sw fanfic #pyrondi #star wars empire #hammerly #karyn faro #artur tagge #lapin tagge #domina tagge #conan antonio motti #cassio tagge #wullf yularen #major partagaz #merri barlin

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aeon2407 · 8 months

Text

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 7

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

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Command Bridge, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

“Captain Pyrondi, come in.”

Yana groaned in frustration. What now? “This is Pyrondi. Send traffic.”

“Captain, there’s an unknown ship on approach. Pilot claims to be a bounty hunter with two dead members of Clan Wren. Wants to collect the bounty and requested that the ship captain deliver the bounty in person. Guild ident number checks out. Orders, sir?”

A contemplative silence. “Have a squadron of guards at the hangar bay and wait for me. I’m on my way. Captain Virgilio has the bridge.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Yana told the task force to wrap up and set course back to Tepasi, then went to change. She hasn’t worn traditional hides in too damn long, and it’d also throw the bounty hunter off-kilter.

A full security detail was already there by the time she got to the hangar. Chief General Tagge designated her a high-value asset when the bounty on her head, from way back during her last year at Royal, was recently reactivated. Four million credits turned a lot of heads her way. It also earned her the nickname ‘Unkillable’ amongst Mandalorian clans.

The man that stepped out of the ship was tall, lanky in that aristocratic way that suggested a runaway or disgraced noble, probably Kuati given the unique complexion. He had two bodies in Mandalorian armor on the cart behind him and a facial scan confirmed them as Clan Wren and the hunter as disgraced Kuati royalty. She nodded, a trooper handed her the box of credits to pass to him, and she turned to walk away. What a waste of her time.

The last thing she felt before blacking out was a sharp, searing pain in her back. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Tagges were no stranger to strangling worlds and systems, either in retaliation for an offense against them or just to get their way. Before the Republic existed, Helric Tagge rigged the Hydian Way, causing a collision in hyperspace that resulted in Alderaan, Chandrila, and Coruscant losing five thousand ships. The cost was so great that Alderaan swore pacifism, and Chandrila never built another warship. The resulting famine on Coruscant killed over two billion people. Nobody could prove a thing.

TaggeCo, already a multisystem conglomerate then, swooped in and grew exponentially. Brutal yet subtle suppression of any and all competition in its infancy, bribes, blackmail, extortion, assassination, orchestrated disasters. In twenty years, TaggeCo grew from a conglomerate to a supercorporation, then an empire of its own, spanning nearly the entire known galaxy.

When the Republic was created, Coruscant was picked as the capitol, but recorded history showed that Tepasi, and Helric himself, sat at the head of that table.

At the height of the Clone Wars, The Dynasty declared Tagge Space a neutral territory. The CIS tried to muscle in when Domina took the throne from her father Kyric, mistakenly seeing the change in leadership as a weakness to exploit. All of a sudden, Serenno had food riots, the Banking Clan lost all Tagge deposits, and the Techno Union didn't get a new contract, or any contract for that matter.

The Tagges opened their own bank and trading platform, offered high interest rates for low balances, and sucked away the masses. The Techno Union was replaced by TaggeCo workers, staffed through an aggressive recruiting campaign instead of leaning on the Republic Youth Corps for cheap labor like so many others. Domina bought every credit of Republic debt from the Banking Clan for a quarter of the price and squeezed the Senate’s economic balls just to remind them who was in control.

The likes of Kuat and BlasTech were all concerned with protecting their bottom lines while the Clone Wars raged on. Domina, however, saw the opportunity to revolutionize and took it. The Empire presented another such opportunity and she took that one too, getting the largest piece of War Mantle and a bunch of other military contracts to herself.

The Dynasty earned itself another name: The House, as in ‘Don’t bet against The House.’

Kuat wouldn’t stand a chance. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Secondary Hangar Bay, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Yissa was assigned by Virgilio to help receive and prepare Artur for surgery. As much as she was jealous of the man, she didn’t want him to die, and as such put every drop of effort into her work, carefully lifting him onto the medsled before swiftly cutting off his shirt, revealing a set of electro-tattoos, then his pants, with a pair of scissors.

She stopped dead to stare at his crotch, now only covered by his blacks. Remembered Yana’s dimensions in her head. How the kriff…

She shook her head and got back to work. Thank Coru she left him at the altar and ran. He might not even fit inside her, much less Yana. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes you beat the odds and sometimes you don't. It was good luck that Ilyana had changed into her tuskie-hide tunic before meeting the ‘bounty hunter’ since the hide already had mild energy-dissipating properties. It was bad luck that the shot landed, partly burned through the back of the tunic and cloak, and dropped her in her tracks. The assassin was a male member of the Kuati Royal House, a fake declaration of disownment and an initiation into the guild set up by the Matriarch herself.

Yana didn't remember anything, from her point of view all she did was wake up in a bacta tank on the Acquisitor, painkillers up to the eyeballs and staring without comprehension at the medics outside her tank before her brain glitched out again.

Hurt.

“She's waking up.”

“Put her under again. That cloned skin graft is taking. She can't move for another few days at least.”

Ilyana woke up screaming. The pain was too much for tears. Too much for breathing, but her body did it stubbornly. In and Out. The simple motion blacked her out again and this time, Faro closed her hands over Yana's, creating a soft squeezy in her grip. “Squeeze, Yana. Squeeze it hard.”

And she did. The pain rode away from her like a leaf on the surface of a stream, and Yana sank in. Oh. No pain.

A soft darkness took her away to a place of strange silver starlight, paths and gateways, and Yana floated there. She watched herself be born, live, and die so many times, so many different outcomes. Then at one critical moment when her legs failed her, when hope failed her, her uncle threw her into the transport and shut the hatch.

All those other lives went dark as if someone flicked a switch and crumbled away. And then the dark bloomed with so many new lights, new colors, branches of light from one gateway to another.

“You’re the one who wasn't supposed to live. He’s the one who was never supposed to be. And you have both set me free.”

The voice was familiarly unfamiliar. Yana whirled around. A man, shoulder length brown hair, scar under his right eye, and ridiculously tall, was floating a ways away behind her.

“Who are you?” He was so... familiar. She could've sworn that they've met before.

He gave her a small smile, one full of kindness and pain. “My name is – was – Anakin Skywalker.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Secondary Medbay, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Artur woke up… refreshed? What in the- Oh, wait. There’s the pain. Ow. Looked down. Signs of recent surgery on his left knee. Artur gave it a tap, felt his knuckles hitting metal. Prosthetic, most likely courtesy of TaggeCo R&D to feel this natural.

Looking around, he recognized the secondary medbay on one of the Armada’s capital ships. Not the Acquisitor, but certainly a Domina-Class. He stopped a passing medical droid. “Where am I?”

“Ah, Lord Artur. I am glad to see that you are awake. You are in the secondary medbay. You suffered a-“

“I know that. Which ship am I on?”

“The Levinbolt, milord.”

“Thank you.”

The Levinbolt. Spearhead. Auntie Domina mobilized the Armada, which meant someone gave her the code. Who knew the code? Him, Dad, Aylin, Domini, Lapin, Aunt Domi, Yana… Yana. Margulis bless that woman.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, milord?”

“Is Ilyana Pyrondi on board?”

“Captain Pyrondi is currently undergoing post-surgery recovery in ICU Unit One, Lord Artur. Would you like to relay a message?”

She’s undergoing what!? Focus. Observation, assessment, action. In that order. “No. No message, thank you.” He waited for the droid to move out of sight before starting his ‘action’.

Medical Sergeant Eylod was the unlucky soldier assigned to watch over Major Tagge while he healed in post-op. He’d gone out for a cup of caf. It had taken him two minutes. When he came back, the bed was empty and the Major was nowhere to be found. “Oh grace be damned, not again. Sergeant Eylod to Captain Virgilio. Major Tagge escaped from medbay, sir. No tracks to follow.”

A sigh through the comms. “Of course he did. I’ll tell the guards around Pyrondi’s bed to be on the lookout and make a few calls. Prepare restraints and standby for updates.”

“Yes sir. Standing by.”

Max Veers was in the middle of a meeting when his personal comms chimed. Why the hell was Virgilio calling him? Did something happen to Artur? “Excuse me, gentlemen. This would take but a moment.”

Exit the room. Secure surrounding environment. Accept the call. “General Veers speaking.”

“Sir, Captain Virgilio here. Lets say, hypothetically of course, that Major Tagge went missing from medbay and there was no visible trace of his whereabouts. Where should we look first?”

A Long Suffering Sigh. “Was he alone?”

“Yes sir.”

“He’s in the floors. Or a large vent somewhere. Check for loose panels. If that is all?”

“That is all, General. Thank you.”

“Tell me when you find him. Veers out.”

Sigh. Lock emotions out of face. Reenter the room. “Apologies, gentlemen. Where were we?”

He remined himself to send a recording to Artur to berate the boy remotely.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

World Between Worlds

“General Skywalker. We studied your tactics in history class.”

A smile and chuckle. “I know you do. Word of advice, most of my so called 'tactics' were just me making shit up as I go.”

A scoff. “And yet when I do it I get a reprimand and a ton of lip. Why are you here, General? What is this place?” For a moment she was afraid that this was the After, but the stars reassured her that it wasn't. Part of her was sad, because at the end of her life she hoped to see her parents and kin again.

“This is somewhere... else. Most who know about it called it the World Between Worlds. We can see the past, present, and future here. You've just witnessed the change you made on Destiny.”

“General, with all due respect, Destiny is a bunch of-” Awake. Faro and Thrawn both hovering over her. So MUCH pain. Squeezed the squeezy. Okay. Black, then starlight and General Skywalker peering down at her. “Ohthathurtohthathurt.”

Yana cleared her throat. The pain lingers. “Excuse me, General. As I was saying, with all due respect, Destiny is a bunch of nerfshit.”

A Sigh, full of weight and pain. “I wish that were true. So much suffering could have been avoided if more thought like you, but Destiny is what it is. The simple fact of your continued existence and Artur's being at all is proof of Destiny. The Force itself has changed around both of you.”

Yana was... confused. “How so, General? Artur I get, he's a great man who will go on to do great things, but I'm just a humble officer.”

Anakin channeled his inner Drama Queen Kenobi before his next words. “The two of you form a dyad in the Force.”

And the child was absolutely unimpressed. He knew he liked this one for a reason. He should drop her on Obi – trying to be invisible on Tatooine – and see how it goes.

Yana didn't know a dyad from Orn Free Taa's left asscheek. “I saw all the other lives I could have lived, but one wiped them all out, and a bunch of other lives resulted. Destiny's a sloppy way to run a universe.”

“My old Master told me that Destiny gives people hope for something better, not only for themselves, but for others, for the future.”

“Even so, General, my point stands. Hope doesn't mean much if the thing giving hope makes a mess of everything in the first place.” She continued, “And there is nothing so cruel as giving people false hope, sending them looking for miracles instead of solutions, selling them a gilded bantha turd. We're fighting against false hopes and false promises right now. 'Restore democracy!' and 'Freedom' and 'Rights.' Democracy takes work, freedom needs infrastructure, and rights are balanced with responsibilities. But then again, telling people to use their brains instead of sitting on their ass has never been motivational.”

Her shoulders were burning. “Shit. The pain meds are wearing off again. Be right back.”

And she disappeared back to the material world once again. Anakin used the time to think. Did he agree with her?

…

Yes, absolutely. He and Vader seldom agreed on anything, but they did now.

Yana opened her eyes. Squeezed the squeezy. Silent scream because she did not have the energy for sound. Thrawn and Faro were still hovering over her.

“Welcome back, Ilyana.”

“No. I have to go back. I was talking with General Skywalker.” Needle in arm. Squeezed the squeezy. Out again. Thrawn started. Went out to contact the Executor and check what Vader was doing.

“And another thing. Corruption is contagious - it comes from the top down. Since you're a figment of my imagination, I'm going to tell you my life story. I was born on a world called Jegsziv-”

Vader was meditating, not to be disturbed. Tepasi breakout in ten. Plenty of time.

Anakin listened as Ilyana told her story. By the end he was incredibly pissed off, disgusted with Gererra as well, but calmed himself. First things first, clarification. “I'm not a figment of your imagination, Ilyana. I'm real... and alive.”

Yana felt her brain stopped. “What do you mean, you're alive? I don’t wish to contradict you, sir, but you died during the Battle of Coruscant.”

“My identity did. My body survived.”

“So you’re… someone else now? A new name?”

“Yes. A name given to me when I Fell. Darth Vader.”

“I’m sorry, sir. WHAT?!”

Artur felt a familiar flutter in the Force, what little of it he could feel, from his hiding spot under the flooring. Yana. That meant she was still alive!

Ben felt someone Tepasi dancing in the Force, and… Anakin. Not Vader. Not Darth. Anakin. He told Owen that he was leaving for a while, then took the next shuttle to Coruscant. It was the best place to reorientate himself with the Core before going to Tepasi.

He meditated during the fourteen-hour shuttle ride and attempted to get into the World Between Worlds again. He was successful this time and started looking for Anakin, pointedly ignoring the gateways.

Yana stumbled slightly. “Okay, I think they gave me too many drugs.”

Anakin smiled in understanding. “Once you wake up fully, Ilyana, go call Vader by my name. You’ll see.”

“Alright, fine. For the sake of argument, how did we meet?”

“Devastator’s command deck, above Terra. You were still a third-year cadet. Piett brought you aboard to install the Pyrondi System and update our targeting software.”

Yana couldn’t argue with that. Her shoulders were flaring with pain again. “Waking up. But if I call Vader by your name and dies I’m haunting you.”

A chuckle. “Deal. Make sure you try to relax through the pain. I’ll see you soon.”

And then she broke the surface of consciousness, the pain slamming into her. This time Lapin and Lady Domina were the faces greeting her. She whimpered. “What happened? It hurts so much.”

Lapin’s lips thinned. “You got shot. We've grafted cloned skin onto your back and taking you to Recovery. Putting you back under in three, two, one...”

And back under she went. Yana knew enough about medicine to know that she'd be under for a while. Decided to kill time by talking with General Skywalker again. “HEY. YOU THERE?”

Ben tripped over his own feet at that one.

“I'M OVER HERE.”

That was Anakin. He broke into a flat run.

Yana went looking, stopping occasionally to shout back and forth, almost like echolocation. Ben followed the shouting.

Anakin was standing in front of a gateway looking into the Jedi Temple by the time Ilyana found him. Lines of clones were marching up the steps with a cloaked figure in the lead. He looked at her as she approached. “Any improvements, Ilyana?”

“I got shot, sir. I’m not sure yet.” She looked at the gateway. “What’re you looking at? I can’t see anything.”

“You can't, but I can. This was my Fall. Trying to see if I can redeem myself from this.”

“Maybe I can't see it because it isn't mine. Why did you fall?”

A painful sigh. “Love. Anger. Desperation. Arrogance. Poor judgement, in the end. I committed some very heinous acts on the final day of the Clone Wars.”

Ben traced the pathways and saw two figures, one tall adult and a child, staring at a gateway. Ventured closer. The two had their heads together, talking. “Anakin?”

Yana jumped to intercept the stranger – an old man, then a young man, shifting back and forth. “Halt. Identify yourself.” Her clothing flickered from furs to service grays to formal whites with gold epaulets.

The stranger raised his hands placatingly. “My name is Ben Kenobi, young one.” His body settled on ‘young’ and he looked down. “Well, Obi-Wan Kenobi now. What’s your name?”

Yana's uniform darkened, senior lieutenant insignia on the chest, Seventh Fleet emblem on the shoulder. “Senior Lieutenant Ilyana Pyrondi, WSO of the ISD Chimaera.” Then it flashed back to the leathers and furs almost stubbornly, then to a red and gold wedding dress, then back to the uniform.

Between the dress and the uniform was a very brief flicker of white and gold. Obi Wan observed with interest. “Well met, Lieutenant Pyrondi.”

Ilyana studied him, then turned to ask Anakin, “He's a Jedi?”

Anakin had Darkness in his eyes. “My former Master. The man who crippled me and left me for dead on Mustafar.”

She was still standing in front of Anakin and raised her arm cannon. Suspicious of the Jedi – having only heard tales of the worst.

“Lower your weapon, Ilyana. He won't attack me. Not here.”

For a second, the bridge of the Chimaera flickers around them. “You're unarmed, sir.”

“I'm one of the most powerful Force-sensitives in recorded history, Ilyana. I'm never unarmed.”

“Copy that, sir. But if he moves wrong I'm ventilating him.”

Obi-Wan silently thought that this one might have been too young to have ever seen a Jedi. Or that she was passed over for some reason. She was strong in the Force, but also weak in the Force. And what was it with Anakin and small violent brunettes?

Oh well, at least this one wasn't dying in front of him, although there was still a lot of physical pain around her. He lowered his hands slowly and sat down. Anakin did the same. Something was different about his former Padawan, but what?

In the material world, Artur had finally managed to navigate his way to the Recovery Room. He climbed out of the floor grate carefully and stumbled to Yana’s bedside, idly making a note to recalibrate the pressure and sensitivity in his new knee before being cleared for active duty as he grasped her hand gently and looked at the monitors. Grafted skin directly onto blaster burn. Nasty business. Yissa was already there, slumped against the bedding and fast asleep.

Artur's touch got through and Yana leaned slightly off to one side. Maybe this was the place that the Dreamwalkers went? There was no one left to ask, but her people called this the world of dreams.

Yana manifested a comfortable chair and took a seat. The pain was present but distant, and from time to time she could see horrible injuries on General Skywalker. A head burnt and scarred, missing limbs and more burn marks across his body, dried blood everywhere. Her own pain throbbed slightly at the sight of him. This must be what Vader look like under that suit.

Sometimes both of them were covered in blood. Sometimes she was, too. In the medbay, her fingers curled around Artur's. One thing about Thrawn, he always act to minimize civilian casualties where others do not.

There were times when she questioned her own role in the Empire, where she questioned whether, by seeking to protect all the little Yanas, she was making more of them? Thrawn had said to command without doubts and regrets, and that the clarity of hindsight is either vanity, foolishness, or madness. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't. The nature of Imperial service was that you didn't usually have time to reflect on such things, but she had time now.

In the outside world, Artur pressed his head against their joined fingers and fell asleep right before Revy came in to check on the Little Demon. Paused. Pulled out her comm. “Recovery Room clear. No sign of him.” She gently pulled two more beds over and deposited both him and Yissa onto them before leaving silently, making sure that they were both tucked into Yana’s sides. Messaged an update to Lapin.

Yana pulled on his presence for some comfort, the way she used to less than two years ago. Suddenly, the three of them were joined by a very big, very confused man.

“OH GRACE AND OH SHIT. Artur. Wait. Let me put him back.”

The wedding dress appeared on her again and then confusingly the comfy chair became a command chair. Obi-Wan was amused. Like most people her age, she was feeling the pull of multiple destinies.

Anakin shot a warning look at him. “Don’t use the D-word, Obi-Wan.”

Ah, one of those. Obi-Wan nodded in understanding.

Yana was so very confused about her clothing, panicked over Artur being here, and annoyed at her inability to send him back. Artur, meanwhile, fell back on his training. Observed, then his eyes landed on Anakin. A nod of acknowledgement. “Lord Vader.”

Anakin gave Yana a look that just screamed ‘Told you so’ and she glared at him. Suddenly, they were on the Chimaera’s bridge and she was once again in that damned white uniform.

Artur looked at her, glancing down at where a rank plaque would be before coming to attention. What was he smirking at? “Grand Admiral Pyrondi, sir.”

Yana directed her glare at him. “Don’t you start with me.”

Anakin was impressed. She had an unprecedented level of control over this plane of existence.

Their surroundings shifted again. This time, they were on a cold, grassy plain. Pyrondi flinched as if she’d touched fire, and they were back in the World Between Worlds.

Artur and Anakin both looked at her in understanding. "Your home world?" Anakin asked.

“Yes. I don't want to talk about it.”

The scene shifted again, this time to Coruscant and the Imperial Throne. Artur's outfit turned into royal attire and a crown materialized on his head.

Obi-Wan looked at the girl and the newcomer, then at Anakin. “What did you do?”

He had finally realized what was different about Anakin. The burden of Destiny was gone from him. The Anakin in front of him was the Anakin before he had to be The Chosen One. The one he would've become if the burden had never rested on his shoulders at all. Hardened by war, but not weighed down by colossal expectations.

Anakin just looked at him. “I didn’t do anything, Obi-Wan. What did you do?”

“I heard this one.” He pointed at Yana. “Yelling her head off looking for someone, and I heard you. The next thing I knew, I was here.”

Anakin probed into the Force only to find that his Master-Padawan Force bond, the one he’d shredded and burned, slowly putting itself back together.

They had a lot to talk about, so Yana pulled Artur to the side, still keeping her arm cannon close to aiming at this ‘Kenobi’ and still staying close enough to listen. Things were so mutable here. She needed to have some discipline or she’d be standing in her blacks soon enough.

Artur's outfit shifted again, this time back to the black of Special Forces. Yana glanced at his rank plaque and smirked at him. “Grand General Tagge, sir.”

Like she said. This place was so mutable.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Undisclosed Location, Ryloth

Ahsoka shifted as she slept. Her dream was so strange. Anakin. Obi Wan. A Tagge, and it was obviously a Tagge, that she'd seen somewhere before, and a woman that was somehow familiar. All of them standing in the World Between Worlds, the same one Ezra had pulled her into.

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World Between Worlds

Anakin shifted between himself and Vader, all the pain slamming back into him as destiny – fine, he could see why she hated that word – tried to shove things back on track. The future wasn't set just yet. Anakin might not be the Chosen One anymore, but the outcome could still be changed back. Vader – Anakin – Vader decided that they needed to get rid of Palpatine, and fast, before the Force did something drastic to any of them.

Obi-Wan saw the moment that decision settled. “You can’t. He’ll kill you.” Despite past actions, he didn’t want that to happen.

“If I don't, Obi Wan, how long do you think it will take for him to kill them? The galaxy deserves a better destiny.”

Artur looked up at him. He was tall, but Anakin was ridiculous. “Would our chances be better if you get your organic body back?”

Yana thought about it and shrugged. “If they can put my back together, the Tagge medics can restore you.”

Anakin turned to Artur. “Can they do it? Regrow my body?”

Artur shrugged. “As long as there's still something organic inside that suit. It's gonna be slow, and extremely painful, but we can do it.” A contemplative pause. “But if Darth Vader disappears, the entire galaxy is going to go nuts. Besides, nobody can hide from Him. Or so I hear.”

“There are blind spots in the Force. Even for a Sith.”

Artur nodded, a plan forming in his brain. “Good. So we move you to one of those blind spots and... regrow you.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. The things money and lack of oversight can achieve.

The Tagge scion looked Anakin in the eyes. “There’s a prototype battle armor that TaggeCo is developing. We can modify the exterior to look like your suit for after the procedure. The galaxy is gonna need some stability once Palpatine is gone.”

“I never want to see that suit again. I'll breathe on my own, or not at all”, Anakin said softly. He was tired.

Yana nodded in understanding. There were times that she honestly wanted to stop breathing after she was torn away from her world and family. “Understood, sir. Do you want that suit burned or scrapped?”

Anakin smiled. He knew he liked her for a reason. “Burned, Ilyana. I don't want a single piece of it to survive or be usable.”

“When I was small, the Dreamwalkers would talk about artifacts that sapped life energy, but gave the user great power. I think that's for the best.” A twitch of a smile. She might just give this man her kyber turret prototype and see what it would take to destroy that suit.

Anakin smiled. A small, wain smile. “The myths I grew up with were all about Ekkreth. He was supposed to be our liberator, our vengeance against the depurs. Maybe, once the Old Bastard is gone I'll go back to Tatooine and finally make that happen.”

Yana smiled back at him. “I'll help you.”

A better destiny. Obi-Wan considered The Two. One not supposed to live, the other not supposed to be. “Now we just have to figure out how you disappear, Anakin.”

“Test-flying a new fighter is always a good bet.”

Artur looked at Obi-Wan. “Confirmed sightings of Kenobi in the Core?”

Anakin smirked. “That could work.”

Obi-Wan thought about it. It could work. Maybe. “It would have to be the Deep Core. Somewhere you can't be tracked at all.”

Artur opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought hard. Opened it again. “There is a facility... just one, in the Deep Core. We use it for more... controversial experiments. We can regrow you there if you can get to it without raising suspicion.”

Obi-Wan was watching Chaos at work. The living Force was always chaotic, and perhaps that was the Order's biggest error. He remembered an old story about a king trying to drive back the tide, but the ocean had its way, washing over the king and his castles of sand.

The Order was once that castle, the Council the king and Palpatine the wave. Now, the Empire was that castle, Palpatine the king, and The Dynasty was the ocean that would wash over the galaxy.

Obi-Wan listened carefully as they planned out details of his ‘sightings’ and ‘suspicious movements.’

Anakin idly noted that Piett and Veers would have a cat. Ozzel might stroke out again with any luck. He himself was all in. Operation: Tidal Force was underway.

Speaking of. “Artur, can you do something about Ozzel while I’m gone? Pretty sure he's a rebel plant.”

“Silent removal, sir?”

“That's preferable.”

“You got it, sir. I'll make some calls.”

Yana looked around. “How are we getting out of here?”

Artur shrugged. “Wait for the pain meds to wear off?”

“I think I might be in surgery, that's why I've been under for so long.”

“You're not. You're just doped up on painkillers and sedatives to let the bacta have maximum effect.”

“I’m on my way to Coruscant right now”, Obi-Wan chimed in. “Is Byss close to where Anakin’s going?”

Yana had never even heard of the place before. Artur had. “Not really, but it’s the closest planet to jump from. Still a four-day trip in hyperspace though.”

Obi-Wan nodded, looking at Yana. Why did she look familiar? He suddenly realized who she was. “You’re Cadet Yeet.”

Yana closed her eyes and swore like the sailor she was. Her Royal days really were coming back to haunt her. Anakin was confused. “Who?”

“Don’t ask, sir.”

Anakin made a note to look up ‘Cadet Yeet’ once they were done. If even Obi-Wan knew about it from the ass end of Tatooine, it was something worth looking into.

Yana felt the pain coming back. “I’m waking up soon. Everyone agree on the plan?” Nods all around. “Great. We’ll see you both soon.”

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Recovery Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

She woke up fully if slowly, her back from shoulders to waist pounding like a rotten tooth. Those were some strange, strange dreams. The graft was a thin pink line. TaggeCo medical tech really was the best in the galaxy.

Artur was stirring from her right side. She hugged his head and gently ran a hand through his hair out of habit. He looked up at her. Blinked the sleep out of his eyes. “You had the same dream I had, right?”

“Lord Vader and the strange old man in the starlight world?”

“Yeah.”

They fell into a long-lost habit, Yana tucking herself into his chest while he propped himself up into a sitting position. “We’re really gonna stage a coup, huh?”

“Eventually, yeah. My family’s been planning this since Order 66.”

There was so much more Yana wanted to ask, but Yissa was waking up next to her. Artur gently pushed himself away and off the bed before she could see her wyf cuddling her ex. He knew how much loyalty meant to her. Wouldn’t help her cheat, not even with a cuddle.

Artur stumbled slightly as he went to the door. It was locked, programmed shut. “Override code: Tenno-Zero-Two.”

It refused to open. There was a note on the wall next to it. “I’m taking over temporarily. Get your shits together and sort yourselves out. This has gone on long enough – Lapin.”

That was the Voice of Domina speaking. The ‘or else’ was unspoken, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Lapin meant the problems between him and Yissa. Speaking of, she was glaring a hole into the back of his head.

Oh, as they say, shit.

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contentment-of-cats · 9 months

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Fic dump.

Things Said Over Whiskey (968 words) by cathouse_mary Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Wullf Yularen, Gilad Pellaeon Additional Tags: Drinking, Gossip Summary: Two old navy men in a bar ten years after RTS.

Care (73764 words) by cathouse_mary Chapters: 25/? Fandom: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn, Star Wars: Rebels Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Relationships to be added, Pellaeon/Marinith, Pyrondi & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Thrawn/Pyrondi Characters: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Pyrondi (Star Wars), Hammerly (Star Wars), Gilad Pellaeon, Albus Marinith, Voss Parck, Dagon Niriz, Lomar (Star Wars), Agral (Star Wars), Original Imperial Characters (Star Wars), Original Female Imperial Character(s) Additional Tags: Being Lost, post-Lothal, Whump, injuries, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Blankets, No Beta We Die Like Clones Summary: The 7th fleet is decimated, lost, and trying to survive being abandoned in deep space. Thrawn is recovering from his injuries, his officer corps dead or injured.

Love's Sucker Punch (1526 words) by cathouse_mary Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ilyana Pyrondi/Artur Tagge Characters: Original Imperial Characters (Star Wars) Additional Tags: These Idiots Summary: Artur Tagge meets the most infernal pest.

This is a fanfic of a fanfic of a fanfic - the fanfic of my fanfic is below and I am cocreator because we FAFO this thing.

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life (27258 words) by cathouse_mary, Aeon_2407 Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars: Rebels Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Hammerly/Pyrondi (Star Wars), Ilyana Pyrondi/Artur Tagge, Karyn Faro/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Agral/Yve (Star Wars), Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla, Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren Characters: Original Characters, Artur Tagge, Pyrondi (Star Wars), Hammerly (Star Wars), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Karyn Faro, Gilad Pellaeon, Agral (Star Wars), Lomar (Star Wars), Yve (Star Wars), Woldar (Star Wars), Cassio Tagge, Domina Tagge, Lapin Tagge, Original Imperial Characters (Star Wars), Original Stormtrooper Character(s) (Star Wars), Chimaera Crew Members (Star Wars), Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, C1-10P | Chopper, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Ursa Wren, Alrich Wren, Tristan Wren, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Wilhuff Tarkin, Conan Antonio Motti, Wullf Yularen, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, The Force (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Chimaera means family, Sorta angsty at the beginning, but a lot more fluffy and funny later, I promise, No Beta We Die Like Clones, Everyone Is Gay, The Mandalorian Darksaber (Star Wars), Canto Bight | Capital City of Cantonica (Star Wars), Planet Krownest (Star Wars), Clan Wren (Star Wars), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Romantic Angst, Everyone Needs Therapy, Especially Artur, Established Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Karyn Faro, Established Hammerly/Pyrondi, Force Visions (Star Wars), The World Between Worlds (Star Wars), Alternate Timelines, Blood and Injury, Violence, Child Abandonment, House of Tagge Summary: What is it about the obscenely rich yet kind and funny officers that has Pyro gravitating to them her entire love life? Luckily, there were only two so far that fit the criteria. And her ex is transferring to the Chimaera. Not too bad. Right?

#wullf yularen #gilad pellaeon #thrawn #pyrondi #eli vanto #agral #lomar #hammerly #imperial characters #a whole mess of characters #fic dump

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aeon2407 · 6 days

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Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 10

Late post. Quite late actually. But here you go. Dedicated to the amazing @contentment-of-cats as always. Also on AO3.

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Command Bridge, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead, Fleet One

“Marshal on deck!”

Everyone snapped to attention as Artur stepped onto the bridge, in the uniform of a Tagge Armada Marshal – minus the cape, that was for ceremonies – and took his seat.

“As you were, everyone. How long until breakout?”

“Two minutes, sir.”

“I saw that the Executor stopped around Naboo for a few minutes. What was that about?”

“Uh… They stopped for Lord Vader, sir. He took his personal TIE for a separate mission after Death Squadron affirmed their loyalty to the Dynasty. They will arrive right after us.”

“Ah. All good, then. We’ll be expecting a guest coming up from planetside within the next few days. He is to be considered arm and dangerous at all times, but at the moment he is an ally and should be treated as a guest of honor. The name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. The codeword is ‘High Ground’. Any questions?”

A murmur of confusion, some small requests for clarification, and they were all settled. No one mentioned Order 66 or the numerous warrants and bounties on Kenobi’s head. They were all committing treason soon anyway.

“Captain on the bridge.”

Artur turned around. Yana and Yissa were both wearing the distinct red and gold uniform, the rank device for Captain and Commander respectively shining on their collars. “Commander, Captain, glad you could join us.”

Yana smiled at him. “Happy to be here, sir.”

“Stent, I’m reassigning you to late watch. Take a break.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Commander Hammerly, Sensors is yours.”

“Yes, sir.”

She took the newly vacant spot, getting herself used to the layout. Jashin, Odo, and Phyrre were already settled in, all three staying as senior loots after the jump over but would be promoted soon. Brilliant officers should be in command. Yana was the Levinbolt’s captain the same way Marinith was the Chimaera’s captain, so she took a spot next to the chair. “Orders, sir?”

“Break out over Tepasi, check in with Armada HQ, then pick up Kenobi. I have a meeting with the core family tonight to go over the details. Are you sure you’re up for this? The Empire gave you a second chance.”

“TaggeCo gave me a second chance, helped me break free from the exploitations of the Youth Corps when Commandant Martal wasn’t able to. My loyalty is with my family and the Chimaera first and foremost, but the rest of it is with you.”

A warm smile. A loving look. “Good to hear. Lieutenant Agral, how long to breakout?”

“Thirty seconds, sir! Slowing down hyperdrives, stabilizing sublight engines.”

“Lieutenant Lomar, signal Tepasi Control, tell them we’re on approach. Request Drydock One and a full resupply.”

“Aye, sir. Tepasi Control, this is Armada battleship Levinbolt on final approach, twenty seconds to breakout. Requesting Drydock One and a full resupply. How copy?”

“Levinbolt, Tepasi Control. Good copy, Drydock One on standby.”

“Commander Hammerly, be on the lookout for any approaching vessels once we break out. We’re an Armada ship, not many have legitimate reasons to dock with us.”

“Copy that, sir. Sensors at full range, we’ll see them coming.”

“Sir, breaking out in five.”

“Captain Pyrondi, you have the bridge. Lieutenants Lomar, Agral, report to my office once we land.”

The two exchanged glances and sounded off their affirmatives. Artur left to update the family and get himself updated on other parts of the plan. A coup on this scale took plenty of moving parts, and therefore plenty of chances for something to go wrong. The key was quick, decisive responses to the thing that went wrong.

They were still in the delicate stages. One false step could send it all burning up. He needed to make sure that didn’t happen.

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Commanding Officer’s Office, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

“Lieutenants Agral and Lomar reporting, sir.”

“Come in you two. Take a seat.”

They did so, sitting with perfect academy posture. Artur stared at them. “I’ll get to the point. This is about your families. You two are already onboard with this plan, but we want to make sure that the Agrals and the Slicing Clan are with us too.”

The House was powerful, but not all-powerful. There were factions they didn’t mess with unless they absolutely had to. The Slicing Clan was on top of that list, and the Agral name was known throughout the galaxy for a reason.

The two looked at each other before turning back to him. “We can’t speak for our families, sir, but with permission we can call them. I think both of our families will agree to it.”

Artur nodded. Well within expectations. “Permission granted. Get an encrypted line and call them.”

Hopefully they were amenable to Titanfall. The Agrals would be a problem, but if the Slicing Clan turned hostile their best course of action was mutual destruction. That alone spoke volumes to their power.

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Tagge Armada HQ, Unlos Tagge, Tepasi

Thirty Hours Later

“So that’s why, even with the tentative agreements between us and both factions, King Jashin Agral Sr. and Matriarch Shiya Lomar want to meet. Should be a simple discussion on the finer details, nothing too complicated. How are things on other fronts?”

Domina leaned back in her seat as Artur finished his report. It was just the two of them in this room, catching each other up on things. Not even Lapin was there.

She scrolled through her datapad. “Neither Organa nor Mothma have cracked, not that we expected them to. The ISB is putting pressure on their families, Organa specifically has to worry about his daughter being charged with accessory to treason. As for Mothma, she’s been shown footage of Narkina 5, specifically what female prisoners go through. There are fates worse than death. We’ll let her stew in it for a few days then offer her a deal for information.

Ulric is doing his job, gaining allies and influence. Palpatine is getting delayed or outright falsified reports from all agencies. Orman reported that Vader is regenerating without issue, apparently the midichlorians are helping him along. We’ll take Coruscant when he is back and fully reacclimated. Should take another three days for him to fully form, then he’ll start the recovery process.”

Artur nodded. “I’ll prepare the fleets and inform Thrawn. What about the Spectres? Any news?”

“Yes. Kanan Jarrus was released from postop today. His body accepted the eyes seamlessly and he’s undergoing nerve therapy to reacclimate himself to sight.”

“Good. That’s good. Death Squadron?”

“Enough resistors to fill two ISDs, Vader deemed the rest to be loyal to him and by extension to us. The resistors are scattered in brigs across their fleet.”

“Shame, but expected. What do we do in the meantime?”

“You’re still on leave. As far as Palpatine is concerned, everything is normal. Keep it that way until it’s time to strike. Go prepare. Train with that new knee. Be with your girlfriends, which by the way, are you sure you can handle three, Artur?”

“Three?”

“Yes. Ilyana, Yissa, Merri.”

“Merri?! No, no, she’s… uh, I’m not sure, but-“

“Let me stop you right there. That girl has been crushing on you for years. I know because she was one of the scouting targets for the Armada. You took her virginity and left her to wake up by herself in a cold and empty medbay. Whatever you feel, make it clear to her. Don’t pussyfoot around like you did with Ilyana all those years ago. Be solid, be firm, make a tactical decision.”

Artur nodded. In hindsight, he could’ve at least taken Merri to his quarters before leaving for the bridge so that she’d wake up warm and with some privacy. Shit. “I’ll talk to her after my bridge shift. Thanks Auntie, needed that.”

“I know, kiddo. Go on, your fleets need you.” A chime on her comms. “On second thought, standby. Lapin just received code ‘High Ground’ over comms. Kenobi’s at TIS. Go pick him up. Put him on the Levinbolt while I arrange transportation.”

With a nod, Artur stood and left the room, mind still debating the Merri Barlin Situation. He needed to talk to Yana and Yissa. It was as much their say as it was his, and of course that was assuming Merri would even accept their little arrangement in the first place.

One step at a time, Artur. One step at a time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arrival Gate, Tepasi Interstellar Spaceport

Obi-Wan was calm. He was on the right path and he knew it, it was just a matter of navigating that path. Said navigation now required him to get involve with the Tagges to get Anakin back, so that was what he was doing.

So why did he feel so exposed sitting here? Oh, right, security cams. He’d spent all of two hours on Coruscant. It was still strange being back in the Core, even if Tepasi had more nature. Not that it was a particularly high bar, every planet had more nature than Coruscant.

A man was approaching him. Even without looking, Obi-Wan knew who it was as the other man sat down next to him. That volatility and wrongness in the Force was unique to one and only one being. “Artur, pleasure to-”

“Don’t use my name, don’t say anything, just put this cloak on and follow.”

Right. A Tagge would naturally attract attention, especially here, and attention was the last thing either of them wanted right now. Obi-Wan took the offered cloak – gray and white – and slipped it over his head before following the scion to a speeder outside.

“We’re taking you to one of our ships in orbit. You’ll be treated as a guest, but try anything or be anywhere you’re not supposed to be and I’ll put your old ass in the brig myself, understood?”

“Understood. I’m just here to save Anakin and kill Sidious. That’s all.”

A silent nod turned into a silent drive. Obi-Wan took the time to meditate and tried to reach out to Anakin. He knew they had him in a blind spot in the Force, but he tried anyway, just to be sure. Eventually, they arrived at a private landing pad, where a TaggeCo shuttle and a squad of black-armored stormtroopers – SCAR Troopers – were already waiting.

Artur parked the speeder in the back of a nearby hangar. Obi-Wan tensed instinctively as one of the troopers – an officer with cropped brown hair– approached them. “All good to go, sir. Still as planned?”

“Still as planned, Revy. Kenobi, this is General Revy Maklar, my ground forces commander. You answer to me, her, and Ilyana Pyrondi, in that order.”

Obi-Wan was staring. He couldn’t sense Revy at all. She knew that too, judging by the knowing smirk on her unhelmeted face. “What’s wrong, Kenobi? Never seen a Force Null before?”

So that was what she was. He’d suspected, given that there was nothing in the Force where she was supposed to be. Not the blank void like what most droids were either, just natural air where there should’ve been a Human woman. He’d also noticed the scar on her neck, the surgical mark of a freed slave, but wisely avoided commenting on it.

“Pleasure to meet you, General. Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service.”

She shook his hand and motioned for him to follow. The trip up to the Levinbolt was as silent as the trip from the spaceport, Obi-Wan growing increasingly unnerved sitting between a Force Null and the non-Sensitive Apprentice of Darth Vader. They said nothing to him besides the necessary instructions as the shuttle landed in a hangar bay. Artur escorted him personally to his quarters, bigger than anywhere he’d slept in before, even Satine’s chambers.

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay here. We’re arranging a transport for you to Anakin on Byth, but until then you’ll be confined to this ship. Here’s your access card, don’t lose it. Any questions?”

Obi-Wan took the card and turned it over, tucking it into his robes. “How is Anakin? Have there been any reports?”

Artur’s expression softened. “He’s fine. Should be fully formed within the next few days, then he’ll need to go through the recovery process too. Uncle Orman’s with him – best bioengineer in the galaxy. He’ll make sure Anakin is stable, but you’ll need to be there for your old padawan, both physically and emotionally. We need the Chosen One at his best for what’s to come.”

Obi-Wan sighed, relieved. Anakin was stable and would recover. The severe damage he’d done to him on Mustafar would be healed. “Thank you. For doing this. Helping him. Thank you.”

“Wasn’t exactly for altruistic reasons, but you’re welcome regardless. Get some sleep if you want, there’s food and drinks in the preservation unit under the countertop, spare clothes are in the closet. Call for help if you need anything.”

Obi-Wan thanked him one last time and was left alone. He tried to sleep off nerves but couldn't, so he got a bite to eat. Good food, better than anything he had on Tatooine by far. Then he took advantage of the shower – hot water on a combat ship was a ridiculous level of luxury – and the clothes being provided. Different stuff, different styles ranging from casual sleepwear to formal suits.

He settled on light gray robes that he recognized as belonging to the Tenno, the Tepasi religious sect in the Temple of Lotus, just without any of the regalia denoting title or achievements. They were light and comfortable, airy yet warm, just like Jedi robes. He hesitated before throwing his robes into the washing cycle but did so eventually, clipped his and Anakin’s lightsabers onto the leather belt, and left for the bridge.

….

Where was the bridge again?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thirty Minutes Later

“Master Kenobi. I trust you had no trouble finding your way around?”

The teasing smirk on Artur’s face told them both that he knew damn well otherwise. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. “You really are Anakin’s apprentice.”

“I’m Vader’s apprentice. Get it right.”

“Apologies.”

“Accepted. Your transport arrangements will be ready in an hour. Until then, there’s a meditation room and a dojo onboard.”

“Dojo please. I need to practice before we take on Sidious.”

“Right this way. Captain, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.”

Obi-Wan noted the distrustful glare from the captain, Pyrondi if he wasn’t mistaken, and almost shrunk away. He followed Artur out of the bridge as the tiny captain turned back to her datapad.

A shiver shot through his spine. Small Brunettes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Stinger Mantis, Tepasi Sovereign Space

Sixteen Minutes Later

“Unauthorized shuttle, power down and stand down immediately. This is your final warning.”

So obviously some mistakes were made.

That was an understatement actually. Many severe mistakes were made.

Cal was locked in probably the most powerful tractor beam he’d ever encountered, with more firepower than he could’ve imagined aiming at him, and no backup to speak of. He was kriffed.

“BD, open a channel to that ship.”

“Beep boop?”

“Just trust me on this, buddy.”

“Boop boop bah.”

“Thank you bud. Tagge battleship Levinbolt, this is captain of the Stinger Mantis speaking. I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m here to see Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know he’s here, so don’t bother denying it.”

A beat of silence. “Power down and stand down. I will not repeat myself again.”

A woman, the same one that identified herself as the captain of that posh ship keeping him trapped. She had an edge to her voice, a cold sort of fury that told Cal he’d better obey or she’d erase him from existence.

“Copy that. Powering down now.”

The first thing he did was cut comms with the Levinbolt. “BD, send a signal over the encrypted line. Request backup and extraction for two, then hide in the floor.”

Some arguing and beeping later, BD was finally squirreled away in the hidden compartment under the caf table and Cal was ready to fight his way out if necessary. The Mantis was reeled in via tractor beam and he tucked himself into the little corner next to the boarding ramp.

The plan, as stupid and suicidal as it sounded, was to fight his way through the initial boarding party, find himself either a set of armor or uniform, find and disable the tractor beam, then fly out. Simple, right? Cal split his saber in two, prepared to deflect blaster bolts and ready for a fight from all angles as the Mantis settled into the hangar bay and familiar bootsteps approached.

He wasn’t ready for them to pump gas into the ventilation system.

BD squeaked in alarm as Cal slumped, unconscious. He tried to fight back as troopers in black armor flooded the main cabin. The droid managed to shock one of the troopers before another one turned and shot him point blank with a restraining bolt. BD felt his programming freeze and locked up as they scooped him up into a durasteel box.

After years of fighting, running, and hiding, Cal Revano Kestis, one of the last Jedi Knights left alive, was finally captured.

His comlink chimed and was promptly turned off. On Tanalorr, Merrin frowned, told Greez to babysit Kata, and took her fighter to Naboo. ‘Quick check in’ her ass, her idiot of a husband was probably captured or on a suicide mission somewhere.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TaggeCo Veteran Rehabilitation Centre, Tepasi

Kanan, or Commander Dume as he was registered here, had been diligently going through every exercise they wanted him to. Some were very useful in helping him regain hand-eye coordination, which had atrophied over the past year, while others were useless to him on account of Force sensitivity. He went through all of it regardless, being with Hera in their dorm after every long day.

It was a wonderful thing, being able to see her again. She was as beautiful as the day he last saw her, perhaps even more so now. He got to watch, and listen, and feel, as the child, their child, grew more and more in her womb.

Life under the Tagges had restrictions and he knew there would be plenty of compromises in the future, but at least his family was all safe and any new additions wouldn’t be born on the run.

So of course, in typical post-Order-66 Jedi fashion, he felt one of his old creche-mates, his best friend of all people, appear over orbit and almost immediately dulled. Not dead, but unconscious.

He went through his day, went back to his dorm, and immediately grabbed the comlink next to his bed. Lapin had given him their personal comm code for emergencies. “Lapin?”

“Is this about the Jedi we just caught?”

“Uh, yes. I think I know him. You got Cal Kestis right?”

“Yep. If you wanna talk to him, I can arrange that.”

“Please do. He was my best friend back before.”

“Keep your inbox open. I’ll send details after I’m done eating.”

“Thank you.”

They ended the call right as Hera walked in. Kanan filled her in on what happened, which led to a long conversation about his time in the Temple.

Kanan didn’t sleep that night. If there was one thing he knew for certain about Cal, it was that the man could be more stubborn than Master Windu, and just as good with a lightsaber.

It was going to be an interesting conversation.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Residential Wing, Tagge Manor, Tepasi

Lapin rubbed their eyes and sighed. How many kriffing Jedi were still alive!? And why was half of them suddenly their problem?

They called Artur and told him to tell Kenobi about what just happened. They had three Jedi right now, all of them connected one way or another. Might as well put them all in a room together and see what comes out of it.

#star wars #star wars rebels #sw fanfic #pyrondi #star wars empire #hammerly #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #cal x merrin #obi wan kenobi #domina tagge #lapin tagge #hera syndulla #scar trooper

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aeon2407 · 1 year

Text

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 1

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

IMPERIAL MILITARY INTERNAL COMMUNICATIONS NETWORK

From: MAJ Tagge, Artur K.

[[email protected]]

To: SRLT Pyrondi, Ilyana K.

[[email protected]]

Classification: Personal Unclassified

[AUTOMATICALLY TRANSCRIBED FROM AUDIO TRANSMISSION]

SUBJECT: Heads Up

Hey Yana,

I know you’re probably on leave by now, but that’s exactly why [sizzle] [flora rustle] I’m sending this before we go dark on comms, just on the off chance I manage to reach you in time. So, according to STORCOM, we’re being transferred to the Seventh to supplement your ground forces. I only just got the orders, and apparently we should be moving on the second Primeday next year, thirty-two hours of hyperspace after that to reach Lothal, so I’ll be shipboard in two weeks.

Vader was not pleased, to say the least. Tried to threaten me into staying with the 501st, but luckily Veers intervened before I could say or do something really stupid and throw my life away. Personally, I can’t wait to get off this ship. The Executor is a fast track to promotion, but still, you know?

I’m sending this because I wanted to give you fair notice before we pack up over here. Looking forward to catching up the past year and a few over some caf whenever you’re up for it.

By the way, I know it’s two days early, but have a prosperous New Year Fete, Pyro. Say hi to Faro for m- Oh [expletive], gotta go. Miro, blow it! Revy, get up there. [explosion] Don’t let them pass! Oh [expletive] [blaster fire] [expletive] [expletive] [expletive] [expletive] [expletive]

[TRANSMISSION END]

Signed,

MAJOR Artur Kyric Tagge, 1st Battalion, 75th SCAR Regiment, Stormtrooper Corps, Imperial Army

Confidentiality Note: This message is intended only for the individual or entity to whom it is addressed and may contain information that is privileged, confidential, or otherwise protected from disclosure. Dissemination, distribution, or copying of this message or the information herein by anyone other than the intended recipient is prohibited under Article 22, Section 337 of the Imperial Legal Code and punishable by prosecution. If you have received this message in error, please notify the Imperial Security Bureau immediately and destroy the original message and all copies.

Status: Seen

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: SRLT Pyrondi, Ilyana K.

[[email protected]]

To: MAJ Tagge, Artur K.

[[email protected]]

Classification: Personal Unclassified

SUBJECT: Better not be dead you [expletive]

You’re not just gonna leave me hanging like that you [expletive], especially not after that last message. Are you ok? Alive? I’m getting kind of worried here, so you better respond or I’ll be using you as live ammo when you get here.

Prosperous New Year Fete to you too, Artur. Faro said hi.

Signed,

SENIOR LIEUTENANT Ilyana Kaiti Pyrondi, Imperial Star Destroyer CHIMAERA, 7th Fleet, Imperial Navy

Status: Received

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: SRLT Pyrondi, Ilyana K.

[[email protected]]

To: MAJ Tagge, Artur K.

[[email protected]]

Classification: Personal Unclassified

SUBJECT: Please don’t be dead

It’s been a week. Please respond. I’m pretty sure you haven’t died because if you were then it’ll be all over the HoloNet by now. So, either you’re tanked or you can’t access your account for whatever reason.

I hope you can get back to me before the transfer. I miss you.

Signed,

SENIOR LIEUTENANT Ilyana Kaiti Pyrondi, Imperial Star Destroyer CHIMAERA, 7th Fleet, Imperial Navy

Status: Received

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Command Bridge, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

“Do you know why they’re coming to us specifically, sir?” Yissa Hammerly asked as she followed Commodore Faro onto the bridge. She didn’t answer right away, didn’t even turn to acknowledge the question, as they both came to a stop beside the command chair, just behind the crew pit.

“Sir, you have a transmission from Grand Moff Tarkin. I’ve taken the liberty of transferring him to the holocomm in your office and asking him to hold while I inform you and oversee temporary transfer of command”, she informed Thrawn, unable to fully suppress a smirk at forcing Tarkin of all people to basically shut up and wait. Thrawn turned to make eye contact with his XO, red eyes glowing with amusement as he stood.

“Thank you, Commodore. I would very much appreciate it if you would listen in and contribute”, he said, maintaining eye contact all the while as Faro’s ears turned a shade at the attention. The corner of his mouth quirked up ever-so-slightly as she gave him a sharp nod.

“The bridge is yours, Commander Hammerly”

“Yes, sir”, Hammerly acknowledged, resisting the urge to role her eyes at the two ranking officers. Those two might as well have been bending each other over the armrests for how obvious they were. She knew, the entire bridge crew knew, so did Pellaeon and Yve. Fraternization policies within the Seventh were much looser than what the ICMJ dictated, both Thrawn and Faro being of the opinion that all crewmembers were mature, consenting adults and could therefore do whatever the kriff they want with each other as long as it doesn’t interfere with their duties or affect morale, but no one expected the CO and XO of the entire fleet to bunk each other so soon. Still, Yissa had to admit, those two make for a cute couple.

Faro stayed behind just long enough to whisper into her ear. “I don’t know why they’re coming to us, but the system flagged a personal message from their CO to Pyrondi three weeks ago. You should ask her.”

Hammerly nodded mutely and carefully placed herself in front of the chair as Faro followed her commander out of the bridge, shooting a glance to her right at Pyro, her precious Pyro, who, to be fair, had been a little spasmodic and distracted lately. Well, more than usual, that is, which was a feat she didn’t think even Thrawn could’ve accomplished.

It was when she saw Yana lose focus on station with her eyes welded to Personal Datapad #3, the one hidden beneath her console, that Hammerly’s curiosity won out.

“Lieutenant Pyrondi, a word.” Hammerly was careful to keep any and all hints of intent out of her voice as Pyro jumped slightly, almost flooding the console with a horrifying amount of caf, before turning her way. “The bridge is yours, Commander Woldar”

“Understood, Commander Hammerly”, the third officer acknowledged, giving her a questioning look. ‘Not now’, she answered with her eyes as Yana followed her outside.

Once she’d made sure that they were alone, Yissa slipped them into a closet and faced her lover immediately.

“You’ve been off lately. What’s going on, Yana?” she asked, face soft, tone firm, letting Yana know that she wasn’t in any trouble but also that there was no point trying to deflect. They wouldn’t lie to each other, ever, but deflection, or partial truthfulness, was a common tactic from Pyro whenever she tried to get out of being chastised.

Of course, Pyro being Pyro, she tried anyway.

“Going on with what, Yiss? I’m just a little tired lately. A bit homesick. Missing my ma’s Fete dinner got me in a mood. I mean, you know how good her cooking is, an-”

Cock her head, raise her right eyebrow, hand on hip. Yana broke.

“Fine, fine. It’s about the transfer, alright?”

“What about it?” Yissa pressed, voice turning inquisitive as she leaned down to look her lover in the eyes, right hand moving from her hip to cup Yana’s cheek. “We’ve had transfers before. Hell, I was a transfer from the Thunder Wasp. What’s so special about this one?”

Yana took a deep breath, almost like bracing herself for impact, and stared at her feet. “Their CO is Artur Tagge”

Before “I know, so what?” could leave her mouth, Yana followed up. “We’ve been good friends for a long while now, and you have nothing to worry about, but… He’s my ex. And sometimes it’s hard to forget that.”

Hammerly stopped short. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. But the shock quickly fell to the wayside as she saw Yana’s face. She seemed… heartbroken, but in a different way than expected. A familiar way.

“He hasn’t been responding to my messages, and in the last one he sent he was attacked. I can’t get in touch with him, STORCOM won’t tell me shit, and even General Tagge doesn’t know anything about it. I’m worried, Yiss.”

Yissa, knowing exactly when to use words, silently wrapped her arms around Yana and held her tight. The twinge of jealousy in her chest can be dealt with later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: MAJ Tagge, Artur K.

[[email protected]]

To: SRLT Pyrondi, Ilyana K.

[[email protected]]

Classification: Personal Unclassified

SUBJECT: Sorry

I’m okay. Sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner. There was a spy on the ship, that’s how they ambushed us. ISB detained the entire battalion for a week, and they didn’t allow us datapad access. Yularen himself got involved in this one, which really expedited the whole thing, and the rat is enjoying a nice vacuum sleep now.

You might’ve heard that we’re on our way now. I picked up something for you as a more personal apology.

Again, so sorry I made you worry, Pyro.

Signed,

MAJOR Artur Kyric Tagge, 1st Battalion, 75th SCAR Regiment, Stormtrooper Corps, Imperial Army

Status: Seen

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Primary Docking Bay, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

0900 Hours – Galactic Standard

Thrawn stood in front of the docking bay, Hammerly to his right and his Deathtrooper guards behind them. Faro had the bridge.

The muscles in Hammerly’s throat and arms are tight, her facial heat slightly above baseline human range. Her expression has shifted slightly from its usual resting state, indicating agitation or protectiveness.

The Revenant, a Katarn-Class shuttle along with a small Lambda, the Disciple, came out of hyperspace and made their way toward the Chimaera, nine TIE/ag escorts surrounding it in a staggered defensive formation, led by a TIE Phantom fighter. Thrawn noted with some satisfaction that the Army, or at least the 1st Battalion, has seen fit to install hyperdrives onto their TIE fighters, if not shields. But to his understanding, that was more likely to do with Major Tagge’s willingness to upgrade equipment at his personal expense than strategical clarity from High Command.

His superior ears picked up the hum of quad turbolasers powering up and holding their charge a little too long before reverting to standby. The Chiss crinkled his eyebrows slightly in concern. Pyrondi had defensive protocol timing memorized and always executed them perfectly. That prolonged targeting period was extremely irregular, and therefore quite concerning. Perhaps the shuttle failed to transmit proper clearance codes in time and she got apprehensive, but it was worth investigating, nonetheless, especially if her health was involved. He wasn’t so demanding an Admiral as to deny his officers time off to recover if they ever need it.

As the Revenant made its final approach, Thrawn’s wrist comm informed him that three Sentinel-Class shuttles along with their TIE/IN escort compliments, composed of ten fighters each, have docked at the Harbinger, and six more Sentinels with TIE/ad escorts are being processed aboard the Dark Omen and the Inexorable. According to IHC operation files, the 1st Battalion had a total personnel count of 650, composed of 30 officers, 500 combat enlisted, and 120 additional personnel in various ancillary elements. In Tarkin’s words, they were here as a ‘test of merit and leadership proficiency.’ Whether that test applied to Thrawn or Major Tagge was left unclear, but he will assume that it was both until more information becomes available.

The Revenant’s troops marched out in a loose wedge formation, utilizing the wider aft ramp instead of the side door. Their rifles are all at the ready instead of carried or slung. The majority were armed with either TL-50 or DC-15 blasters and a WESTAR-35 pistol holstered at the hip or upper thigh along with at least one vibroblade strapped to the armor.

The pistol and vibroblade seemed to be part of the standard loadout, as every trooper he could see had them, but a fair number had E-11s snipers or Z-6 cannons as their primary. Their armor was, according to the files, made out of a duraplast-titanium alloy, colloquially known as titanplast, instead of the standard plastoid, coated with anti-thermal and antiglare, and was being considered for standardization across the entire Corps by recommendations from both Major and General Tagge and with heavy encouragement from its manufacturer TaggeCo. A metal tab, just under the rank plaque for officers and encoded into the pauldron for enlisted, marked every single one of them as being SCAR-qualified and therefore part of the elite Imperial Special Forces, a membership also denoted by the black coat of paint on their armor.

Their body stances indicate widespread exhaustion and minor injuries, and there are blaster marks on a majority of their armor, indicating that the battalion has recently seen combat.

There was one glaring thing though.

“Sir, isn’t Major Tagge supposed to be on that exact shuttle?” Hammerly voiced his question out loud. Thrawn gave her a sharp nod of confirmation before they walk toward the highest-ranking trooper in his sight, a brunette Captain who was coordinating cargo offload with her helmet tucked primly under an arm. She eyed him as they approached. Her expression is tense. Her eyes indicate a level of caution and distrust commonly found in tightly bonded groups when approached by an outsider.

“What’s your name, Captain?” Hammerly asked, a touch more authoritative than what he’d expected. The Captain reacts to the tone of voice as a provocation. Her cheeks flare with extra heat, the muscles in her torso and shoulders are tight and body stance indicate heavy desires to physically attack Hammerly.

“Revy Maklar, sir”, she outright sneered at Yissa, who reeled back at the disrespect. If it had been naval personnel, Thrawn would’ve given them a non-judicial punishment for insubordination and disrespecting a superior officer. But Maklar, whose name he recognized as the battalion’s XO, held a commission from the Army, not the Navy, and therefore does not answer to Hammerly, even though she was the fleet’s 3IC. As per regulation, the only naval officers who can command the Army component of a fleet or task force are the CO and XO, first and second in the chain of command respectively, and the captain of whichever ship that component was on.

“I apologize for my second officer’s hostility, Captain Maklar. Do you know where Major Tagge is? We were expecting him in this shuttle”, he intervened before the situation could escalate. Pyrondi might be the more explosive of the duo, but Hammerly’s temper was infamously short and she already had two non-judicial punishments for assault along with a court martial for sending three superior officers into bacta tanks. Thankfully Thrawn had been able to stop the Admiralty from demoting her back to Captain. The three unsurprisingly well-connected officers became the priority targets of Colonel Yularen and swiftly arrested and dishonorably discharged for harassment and attempted sexual assault. The court martial on her record has stalled her progress towards flag rank, though. Another one would likely stop her incredibly promising career dead in its tracks.

Maklar adjusts her posture and tone instinctively, showing respect for commanding officers. “Major Tagge should be in the secondary bay, sir. He came on the Disciple.”

With a grateful nod and a quick word of thanks, Thrawn dismissed the officer back to her work, turned on his heels and gave Yissa a blank stare, just long enough for her to notice, before making his way to the connector between the two shuttle bays.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Officers on deck!”

Every pilot and engineer in sight snapped to attention. Both aforementioned officers noticed the Major immediately. Armed and dressed similarly to his troopers aside from the black pauldron with red lining prominent on his shoulder, denoting him as both an officer and a member of Special Forces Command, one notable difference in the man’s setup was the gauntlet on his right arm, an armored power cord running between the bodysuit and titanium plates, tight against the outer contours of his arm and ending at his jetpack. Another was the vibrosword prominently strapped to his hip.

He was standing next to two stasis tanks, Xoxtin nearby, lips quivering and barely holding back tears, comlink forgotten at her feet. Hammerly raised an eyebrow at the sight. There’s one hell of a story there, she was sure. Whatever, or more likely whoever, could reduce the obnoxiously proud and insubordinate Aliana Xoxtin to tears rightfully earns Yissa’s apprehension, if not respect.

Then again, if anyone could ignore Xoxtin’s familial connections and terrify her at the same time, it would be a Tagge, especially Cassio Tagge’s children. She’d heard stories of the Tagge twins, Aylin and Domini, from Pellaeon, stories of how no one on the Harbinger, not even the group of officers who let their little head do most of the thinking, dares to touch the pair of ensigns with anything even resembling ill-intent after the last person to do so, some idiotic second lieutenant trying to blackmail the girls into his bunk, actually got his commission stripped, kicked down to enlisted, and shipped off to Bracca as low in the ranks as you can go to serve out the rest of his naval commitment.

With that thought, she turned her gaze to the living legend and regard him, this time as Yana’s partner instead of Commander Hammerly, as he talked with Thrawn. Clean-shaven oval jawline, sharp brown eyes, and dusty brown hair trimmed into a guard six created the image of a proper soldier. Slightly tanner skin tone, the kind that you can’t get from any sun in the galaxy, puts his mixed heritage on display. The scar running down his jaw and the muscular build evident even under his armor marked him as a seasoned combatant and a war veteran.

Despite standing in front of a superior officer, a Grand Admiral no less, he held himself with the dignified posture expected of Core nobility, proud and tall. And by the Celestials he was tall, head reaching the tip of Thrawn’s pointed ears and able to maintain eye contact with the Chiss simply by tilting his chin up slightly.

Truly, his appearance lived up to the stories and commendations. The Heir of Tagge. The Pride of Tepasi. His Lordship of the Beskar Nerve and the Durasteel Spine. The young lieutenant who took control and led a decimated platoon during the San Diego Offensive to a stalemate long enough for reinforcements to arrive, earning himself a Distinguished Medal of Imperial Honor and a brevet straight to Major in the process, confirmed in rank the month after. He should be a Lieutenant Colonel in two to three years, especially with concurrent victories during the Terran War and an extra four years in the 501st already on record. Way too young, in her opinion.

Hammerly scanned his eyes. None of the disdain or smugness that she’d expect, only a fair amount of reserved respect directed at Thrawn. He shot her an inquisitive glance, trailing his eyes downward before snapping them front once more. Hammerly felt herself seethe.

Was he kriffing serious!? Copping a look at her chest in front of a flag officer and his own troops? No, calm down. He was probably checking her plaque, nothing more. Get yourself together, Hammerly. Stop assuming the worst. You’re secure in your relationship, damnit. Act like it.

“Commander?”

Yissa snapped her eyes towards Thrawn, embarrassed at being caught losing focus. “Sir?”

To anyone else, Thrawn looked at her the same way he looked at anyone else. Blank, critical, analytical. But to Hammerly, who had been at his side ever since he was XO under Commander Cheno on the Thunder Wasp and she was still just a wee little lieutenant, the concern and disappointment in his eyes were clear. The concern warmed her heart, but that disappointment hit her like an ISD’s orbital bombardment.

“Escort Major Tagge to his quarters and answer any questions he may have. Ensure that he is settled in without issue, then report to my office.”

“Yes, sir”, Hammerly responded, keeping her eyes firmly forward. She didn’t want to see how disappointed he was in her any more than necessary.

“Very well. Lieutenant Xoxtin, for future reference, you are expected to prioritize a crewmate’s safety and wellbeing above protocol, understood?”

It was a testament to how broken Xoxtin was that she didn’t even afford him the subtly derisive reply, only a meek nod in response. Hammerly felt a crease form between her brows. What the hell did Tagge do to her?

“Good, lead Sergeants Golovan and Emiri to the medbay then return to your post immediately.”

Without waiting for a reply, he dismissed them all and turned back the way he came, undoubtedly making his way back to the bridge. Hammerly turned towards the portside corridor, gesturing wordlessly for Tagge to follow.

“Commander?”

Yissa took a deep breath to calm herself, not wanting to make too bad of a first impression, before turning back around. “Yes, Major?”

“I was told to report to the Army Operations room as soon as my battalion has settled in. Can you direct me on how to get there from my quarters or should I ask a crewman later?”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’ve been on a Star Destroyer before.”

“Lord Vader made modifications to the Executor’s layout. I’m not exactly sure where the bunks would usually be.”

“Ask for Chief Petty Officer Laminar, she’s good with directions.” She was also generously proportioned, even more so than Hammerly herself, and an amazing flirt, but he didn’t need to know that did he?

“Thank you, Commander. Much appreciated”, he said, giving her a smile that she couldn’t help but be skeptical of. There was something about him she couldn’t stand. It was probably just her blueblood Corulagi upbringing telling her not to trust a Tagge under any circumstances, even if Cassio was technically her distant, very distant, uncle. But then again, Yissa was related to Tarkin in pretty much the same way, and she doesn’t trust him either. Same with Romodi and Kuat.

Yissa refuses to acknowledge her relations to Motti as they made their way to the officer’s country. This was shaping up to be an interesting deployment.

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aeon2407 · 10 months

Text

Chapters: 4/?

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars: Rebels

Rating: Teen And Up

Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Hammerly/Pyrondi (Star Wars), Karyn Faro/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Agral/Yve, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added

Characters: Original Characters, Pyrondi (Star Wars), Hammerly (Star Wars), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Karyn Faro, Agral (Star Wars), Lomar (Star Wars), Yve (Star Wars), Woldar (Star Wars), Gilad Pellaeon, Albus Marinith, Cassio Tagge, Original Imperial Characters (Star Wars), Original Stormtrooper Character(s) (Star Wars), Chimaera Crew Members (Star Wars), Sabine Wren, Ursa Wren, Tristan Wren, Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, C1-10P | Chopper, Alrich Wren, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Wilhuff Tarkin

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Chimaera means family, Sorta angsty at the beginning, but a lot more fluffy and funny later, I promise, No Beta We Die Like Clones, wlw, Everyone Is Gay, The Mandalorian Darksaber (Star Wars), Canto Bight | Capital City of Cantonica (Star Wars), Planet Krownest (Star Wars), Clan Wren (Star Wars), Unresolved Romantic Tension, Romantic Angst, Everyone Needs Therapy, Especially Artur, Established Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Karyn Faro, Established Hammerly/Pyrondi Summary:

What is it about the obscenely rich yet kind and funny officers that has Pyro gravitating to them her entire love life? Luckily, there were only two so far that fit the criteria. And her ex is transferring to the Chimaera. Not too bad. Right?

Source: archiveofourown.org

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aeon2407 · 1 year

Text

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 2

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

There will be some, in my opinion, important character building for the next chapter or so. I need you all invested in Artur for this story to have the appropriate impact.

Mando’a Translator: https://lingojam.com/Mandoa-EnglishTranslator

Mando’a Dictionary: http://mandoa.org/

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Senior Officer Quarters, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

Artur had a feeling that Commander Hammerly didn’t like him much as he was left alone in his new room to unpack. They knew each other from the voluntold social events on Coruscant his aunt dragged him to, her family being immortalized next to his in the Avenue, and she was cold and disinterested then, but never agitated like he’d just seen her.

And to think Aunt Domina honestly thought she could finesse the two of them into a marriage. He’ll readily admit that she was gorgeous, and if anything time in service has only made her prettier, but if his aunt thought that was all it would take to get him chasing after her, then he’ll readily let her keep underestimating him.

Getting into that publicity stunt of a relationship with Syal after he and Pyro split got the head of house off his back easily enough, although that too ended soon after he introduced her to Soontir. The wedding was nice though, and she seemed genuinely happy, which was good.

A chime at the door pulled him back into real-time and he didn’t even have time to turn around fully before getting slammed ass-first into his bed by a gray projectile with the strength and velocity of one of Revy’s left hooks. And that comparison unfortunately came from firsthand experience.

“You’re here. You’re actually here!” Aylin screamed into his face, causing him to hiss and flinch slightly as the noise punched against his bacta-coated eardrums. Aylin noticed, but then when did she ever not notice, and pulled away from her tight hug in concern, allowing him to see Domini standing still at the doorway, at attention and pointedly eyes-front.

Artur felt his heart break. They’d had an argument on Tepasi last year, an argument that resulted in a fractured jaw, a vibroblade being drawn, his body being slammed through the dining table, three crashed speeders, a night in TPD lockup, and nine million credits in public damages. They’d both said things that should never, ever be said to family, things Artur wasn’t even sure he’d say to a rebel.

His father deployed him around Hutt Space for two months as punishment the very next day. Damn near busted him down to Captain for ‘conduct unbecoming an officer’ and only just about stayed his hand.

The worst part? He remembered what they argued about. Gently lifting the older, and much shorter, twin off his lap and onto the mattress, he walked slowly towards Domini. “I’m off-duty, Domi. At ease and come in.”

She stepped through the threshold, allowing the door to slide shut behind her without a word. He gently tapped a finger under her chin to make her look at him. They simply stared at each other in silence, and two minutes later he had an armful of hysterical ensign squeezing the life out of him. Her singular rank tile was digging into his chest. He didn’t care. He simply squeezed her back and let the guilt bleed out of them both. Apologies can come later; they needed this now.

A genuine smile spread across Artur’s face, his first smile since the recent botched Gerrera mission that took two of his best. He felt the smile get wider as Aylin wiggled into the middle of the Tagge sandwich. They were home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Army Operations Room, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

He was late. Not the best first impression he could’ve made, but he ended up hugging the twins all the way back to their transport, on the other end of the ship, before their favor runs out.

Artur made a note to see what he can do to repay Gilad Pellaeon. Commander should do nicely, maybe Commodore once Faro inevitably gets promoted into the Admiralty. Those snots in High Command hate the idea of women in command, especially the Core World naval ones like Motti, but they were also pragmatic. They’ll promote her eventually, and if not then some strongarming is par for the course with flag rank.

Fixing the collar and doing a quick onceover of his uniform, making sure he had the small bag for later, Artur handed his cylinder to Miro. “How are they?”

The new sergeant, his first draft pick fresh from SCAR School barely a year ago, looked at him, featureless through his helmet but perfectly readable. “Relkus is stable and sleeping off his meds, sir, but Lieutenant Pryl has been fading in and out for the past twenty minutes. Emiri’s with them now, and Captain Maklar will be coming over as soon as the meeting is over.”

“I’ll be there after a tour of the bridge. Notify me immediately if there are any developments.”

“Yes sir. Permission to switch post and stand guard at medbay, sir?”

Artur smiled gently. “Permission granted, Sergeant Golovan. Open the door, then you’re dismissed.”

Right on cue, the door slid open. Miro returned his cylinder, gave him a customary salute, and basically bolted down the hall.

Chuckling at the man’s eagerness, Artur stepped into the room and immediately felt five important sets of eyes on him, along with every other officer on their post.

Both his XO and OPSO were here, Pik and Waffle he recognized as adjacent upperclassmen from Scarif, and the last person was wearing a Major plaque atop a standard, with the exception of the stylized chimaera on his right shoulder, Army Green uniform, the only spot of color in an otherwise Special Forces Black group sitting around the central holotable.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone. Had some personal business to sort out first.”

The Major rose from his seat and extended a hand, which Artur shook. “Cherric Carvia, 2nd Battalion, 504th Infantry Regiment. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Artur Tagge, 1st Battalion, SCAR. Pleasure’s all mine. I trust you’ve been introduced to my senior captains?”

Carvia nodded, sending Vix Shenaad a small smile, one that she returned with a saucy wink. Artur’s eyes widen slightly at the exchange. Vix was infamously flirtatious, if not promiscuous, but already!?

Pushing the surprise out of his mind, he tried to focus on the matter at hand. “So, what is this about? Why are we all here?”

Revy smirked, Vix chuckled, Pik and Waffle stood to attention. What the hell was going on?

Carvia slid a datacard over, looking noticeably miffed. “An informal ceremony. New orders from High Command… sir.”

Artur physically jolted at that. ‘Sir’? Why the hell was his promotion early? Or at all? His father made it clear that there wouldn’t be another tile on his plaque for a while yet.

Gingerly slotting the card into his datapad, he silently read over the lines of Aurebesh.

Oh. Oh. Much appreciated, Your Excellency.

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Commanding Officer’s Office AKA ‘Thrawn’s Gallery’, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

Yissa took her time getting to Thrawn’s office, taking every chance she could to stop and check on operations. A new lieutenant here, a fresh and confused ensign there. Eventually, though, she had to suck up her shame and ‘face the music’, as the Coruscanti saying goes. Professional pride denied her the option of dragging her feet, and as such it took no time at all before the second officer found herself standing in front of the surprisingly unguarded door, wiping sweat off her palms as to not dirty her cylinders before slotting one into its slot.

“Commander Hammerly reporting, sir.”

Thrawn looked at her from his chair, features somewhat obscured by the holographic map projected atop his desk. He gestured for her to come in, and while approaching the desk she recognized the map as a troop movement diagram of the infamous San Diego Offensive.

“Have a seat, Commander. Tell me what you see.”

Yissa complied wordlessly, grateful for the deviation from what she was sure was going to be a brutal dressing down. At first glance, it seemed to be a standard battle map, but upon closer inspection someone, presumably Thrawn himself, has highlighted 3rd SCAR Battalion.

Gently turning the fob, she rewind the chart and let it play out again, taking note of the positioning, movement, and engagements between the battalion, the accompanying 501st Legion, and enemy troops, sorting the decisions into order of quality, then as either proactive or reactive, then by death toll, so on and so forth.

Yissa winced as Companies A, B, and D misjudged and got slaughtered in a pincer maneuver. Most of C Company fell shortly after that. 2nd Platoon held out impressively though, retreating into the city center and adopting shock-and-awe guerrilla tactics for the next four hours before the 4th and 6th Armored Divisions arrived.

Pausing the map, she looked up at Thrawn to see him looking at her expectantly. Taking a moment to sort out the information and her corresponding thoughts, Yissa made her report.

“The commander failed to account for enemy movement and led his battalion to a disadvantageous position here, west of this hill.” She pointed to the position. “Once the Major is killed, the captains saw fit to crest the hill, either to take the high ground or reroute towards the residential area where their specialty training can be utilized fully. This decision was a mistake as they failed to notice these two regiments repositioning themselves on both flanks, here and here.”

Pause to breathe, point to relevant locations on the map, then continue. “Company C was rearguard and as such survived slightly longer than the rest, but the lieutenant in command of 2nd Platoon seemed to be the only one who realized that relocation to and bunkering down in an urban environment was the most viable option. The guerilla tactics used afterwards to prevent Terran military reestablishing a foothold in the city contained multiple errors and left the platoon exposed to enemy fire on several occasions but were overall quite impressive given the situation.”

“As astute and observant as always, Commander. Everything you said was correct. What else do you see?”

Frowning, Yissa leaned forward and let the battle play out again.

And again.

Finally, she saw it. “The lieutenant didn’t retreat. He repositioned for a counteroffensive.” That revelation recontextualized the entire final four hours and her impression of the lieutenant in question, which she realized was Tagge himself. He wasn’t reserved in combat, he was brutal. He inspired loyalty, evident by the way his troops didn’t show any sign of hesitation in their movements. Those same movements indicated that he has a brilliant mind for tacti… No. Oh no.

She looked at Thrawn with dawning horror. If she knew him, and she was somewhat confident that she did, he did in fact had a punishment for her and forced her to figure it out herself. That smirk, that very rare, very smug victorious smirk, confirmed it.

“Yes, Commander. For the foreseeable future, you will be mentoring him in exospheric and fleet force warfare.”

Sometimes, she really wished the ICMJ didn’t frown upon the homicide of one’s commanding officer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Command Bridge, ISD Chimaera, Seventh Fleet

The entire bridge officer corps was looking on in silence and a hearty dose of ‘what the kriff’ as the Chimaera’s WSO slam into Major Tagge for a hug with the velocity and accuracy expected of a Pyrondi Firing Solution, trademark pending, causing him to stumble back a step. The ‘what the kriff’ factor doubled when the senior officer wrapped his arms around the tiny lieutenant and squeezed her tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, Pyro could be heard muttering rapidly into his chest. It took Woldar a full twenty seconds to comprehend the situation unfurling before his eyes, and another ten to muster the willpower necessary to separate them. Pyro obviously needed this, whatever this was, but that didn’t change the fact that main watch doesn’t end for another two hours and there were professional standards to maintain.

The Commander decided that in this case basic was best and took a second to fill his lungs. As third officer, he didn’t get many chances to do this.

“TEN-HUT”

Detach, on her feet, attention. Woldar glanced towards the helm at Agral, who held up his chrono. One-point-eight-one. Not too bad.

Tagge, on the other hand, took his sweet damn time straightening out his tunic before doing the same to his posture. “Commander Woldar, I assume?”

Woldar took the offered hand and shook. “You assumed correctly. Welcome aboard, Major.”

They exchanged some customary words and the current bridge commander was just about to give Tagge a brief tour before realizing that Pyro was still standing at attention.

“Oh, at ease, Pyrondi. Back to your post.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” There was no mistaking the friendly snark in her voice, and Seffric smirked. The smirk turned into a full smile when he saw Tagge leave a giant packet of Tepasi taffies on Pyro’s console and into a chortle as the man quickly made his way out of the bridge before the lieutenant realize that the candy was sugar-free.

The eventual tantrum of that realization was spectacular, but that’s a story for another time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kuat Drive Yards, Kuat

0815 Hours – Galactic Standard

Five Months Later

Ah, mandatory retrofits, that biannual two-week period mandated by High Command (read: Trohren Kuat) when specific ships have to report to KDY for maintenance and upgrades and when crewmembers use their mandatory shore leave to either spend quality time with their dependents or get absolutely shitfaced and publicly make terrible adult decisions. Sometimes both, as was demonstrated when Pellaeon had to discretely post bail to get a very drunk and very naked Marinith out of CSF custody.

It was the Chimaera’s turn for a retrofit, and with a scheduled upgrade to Class-II that stretched out to a month of the Harbinger and by default Pellaeon leading the Seventh. It was Faro’s turn to draw from The Cap, and out of twenty-two resort and entertainment worlds inside Thrawn’s white kepi, she drew Canto Bight.

Canto. Kriffing. Bight.

Now, no officer ever went broke serving on an ISD, except for that one Captain in the Fourth getting scammed that one time, and without much in the way of creature comfort or physical temptation in their portion of the Outer Rim they all had quite a chunk of credits squared away, especially with a decent number of senior officers in their little group. But Canto Bight, contrary to the myths and endorsements and adverts of being an affordable resort world, was the epitome of indulgence, which meant absolute luxury, which translates to absolutely atrocious prices, barely cheaper than Coruscant.

And, according to the rules their young naïve selves agreed on when The Cap came into existence, they now have to spend their leave there. And Odo Lomar would cycle himself out of an airlock before he, or any of the others, let Hammerly use her blueblood status to pay a single credit beyond what her paygrade allowed.

Which leads to today, when all personnel are expected to be at least planetside by 1200 hours standard, and they’ve yet to find a place to stay.

The nerd herd, as the rest of the ship has taken to calling them, were all huddled into a corner table in the officer’s mess, staring at Faro’s datapad as she scrolled through three different booking applications looking for a decent ISB-approved hotel or even a residential unit for rent that they can afford but still has enough room to fit them all.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if Thrawn and his gigantic pay was here with them, but he was on Coruscant, voluntarily for once, to get in touch with an art curator, some guy named Luthen, about ancient star maps. Woldar went back home to see his parents, and Cherric was with his new girlfriend and SCAR Company D on a training session and hunting trip to Bogano. Pik was already drafting his eulogy.

The housing situation has gotten to the point where Pyrondi left to get Tagge for consultation, much to her wyf’s reluctance, and Phyrre already proposed sleeping in the ship to cut costs. That one earned her a flick under the nose from Faro.

Agral 14 – 15 Yve. Jashin was doing better than his wife for once.

They were just about to give up, break tradition and draw a second location when Pyro came busting in, Tagge stumbling behind her, being dragged by the sleeve. It made for a hilarious sight that put an amused smile on everyone’s face and drew a snort from both Yve and Agral, seeing the Chimaera’s new Stormtrooper Commander being dragged around like a disgruntled tooka by an officer half his height, a third his size, and three ranks his junior.

Odo laughed right alongside Faro when Pyro got onto her tiptoes and pushed him down into a seat by the shoulders. Artur Tagge was damn tough and took shit from no one, not even Faro, but Pyro, and Pyro alone, had him by the heartstrings and everyone on the ship knew it. Yissa especially so.

“Tell them what you just told me, sir.”

Tagge made a show of sighing dramatically, blatantly taking and chugging half of Pyro’s caf, the lieutenant’s indignant protests bouncing off his kepi, before looking around the table. “My family has a penthouse in Canto Bight. It’s high up, private, and within walking distance of every attraction you could think of. No one’s using it right now, and there are more than enough beds if you want it, but I’ll have to come with you to actually get you through the door, which means I’ll probably be butting in on your vacation too.”

Lomar looked around to see everyone, even Yissa, seriously considering it. On one hand, he was offering a high-class place, seemingly without a catch, and Pyro has vehemently vouched for him since he first got shipboard.

On the other, having him and Yissa in the same place may very well end their vacation early and force Thrawn to deal with a court martial offense. Those two haven’t been on good terms since they started working together. Or, rather, Yissa wasn’t entirely on board with Tagge, most likely some remaining jealousy, while, as far as he could tell, the SCAR Commander was genuinely trying to bridge the gap. The two were professional enough when necessary, but the undertone of tension and hostility during their training sessions, why Thrawn thought that was a good idea was beyond him, was hard to miss.

“Where is this penthouse, anyway, sir?” Agral asked, already pulling up a detailed map of the city on his own datapad.

“Mon’t Car’l Tower.”

Appreciative sounds all around, but no one was really surprised. Mon’t Car’l Tower was the pinnacle of residential luxury in the Outer Rim, famously housing military leaders and purrgils of industry such as Conan Antonio Motti, Raith Sienar, Trohren Kuat, Wilhuff Tarkin, and yes, Cassio Tagge, during their rare trips to Cantonica.

Agral typed in the address, eyebrows and hair merging into a singular fiery mess atop his head as he spun the map around and highlighted a few other locations. Yve looked down from her seat atop her husband’s shoulders and her eyes widened with a soft “wow”

Lomar leaned over to see the screen and whistled. Fifteen-minute airspeeder ride from port, across the street from the Canto Casino, surrounded by clubs, bars, and nudie bars, and right on the beach with a private slice of the coastline. This was convenience of location like nothing he’d seen before. It was perfect.

“I say we go for it”, Faro spoke up. “Could do everyone here some good to get to know you better, Artur.” Lomar definitely did not imagine the side-eye she sent Hammerly at that statement.

He glanced at her, amused. “No-plaque leave, Auntie Karyn?”

“No-plaque leave.”

He looked around with a relaxed smile, putting his plaque on the table as everyone else did the same, gesturing their assents to let him join. “Well, in that case, everyone please call me Artur.”

Odo smiled. As long as Hammerly behaves, there shouldn’t be any problems.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jashin ought to punch Lomar in the mouth for jinxing the whole damn thing, because this right here was a massive problem if he’d ever seen one, but his beloved wife’s already beaten him to it, and now Yissa and Yana are taking turns slapping him upside the head and cursing him out like the sailors they are while Faro gives him her you-kriffed-this-up-and-I-am-holding-you-accountable glare, the one that has seen countless incompetent enlisted, NCOs, and officers alike disappear from the Chimaera. It wasn’t his fault really, but sailors were a superstitious lot.

He wanted to contribute to the violence, he really did, but Yana stuck him with pulling their storage cubes out of the wrecked shuttle while Phyrre tries to get a fire going nearby using some oil from the ship’s secondary reserve tank.

Maybe she can still be spaceworthy with some fixing, but for now, lacking the proper resources and tools, the Disciple was just a giant chunk of dead weight, the newest feature in this dense and snowy forest they’ve found themselves in, somewhere in the Mandalore sector. Artur had a theory and had ventured offsite to confirm it. They can still use the ship for shelter if needed, but other than that it was useless.

Solar radiation storms. The scourge of all spacefarers and the magnetic property of which the Interdiction Program was originally based upon before the nerds at Sienar decided to use gravity wells instead. Throughout his twenty-four years of living almost exclusively in hyperlanes and six years of Imperial service, Jashin has never been through one. So of course, his first encounter with the dreaded phenomenon would be getting yanked out of the Hydian Way with their engines burnt out on a flimsy little Lambda instead of the tough-as-Faro Star Destroyer he’s been helming for the past five years.

They got lucky, though. If the momentum of being forcibly returned to sublight hadn’t carried them into a nearby planet’s atmosphere, the storm would’ve left nothing for the fleet to find. It was a sobering thought.

A rustle behind him got Yissa and Faro aiming their holdout pistols in his general direction and Yana pulling an unholy amount of ‘blaster’ out of her ass, both hands needed to lift the rainbow-tipped RSKF-44 she previously had hidden… somewhere. He didn’t really want to know.

“Nice reaction time everyone, but it’s just me”, Artur said as he emerged from the bushes, white tunic covered in snow, and stopped suddenly to stare at Pyro’s arm cannon.

A deep, resigned sigh. “I can’t convince you to get something that actually fits in your hands, can I?”

A grin, the slightly manic grin of a trigger-happy gremlin. “Nope.”

Pop the ‘p’ for extra effect.

“Okay. So, good news: I know exactly where we are”, Artur said.

“And where’s that?” Lomar piped up now that the two small but violent officers had stopped their brutal assault on his skull.

Another sigh. “That’s the bad news”, he said, looking straight at Yana. “We’re on Krownest.”

Never in his life has Jashin seen a person go through so many emotions in so short a time. Pyro’s skin must’ve paled at least four shades in the time it took him to realize why Krownest sounded familiar.

The reports of Mandalorian Clan Wren leading an insurrection and killing Viceroy Saxon just a few months ago came to mind, and he suddenly realized that they’d crashed deep inside rebel territory, where the general reception for Imperials was a blaster bolt between the eyes.

Oh, as they say, shit.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evergreen Forest, Krownest

It took an hour for Wren’s cadre of soldiers to reach the crash site, another five minutes for them to notice the blaster barrel sticking out of the ground nearby, and by then the Chimaera crew already had their shots lined up.

Artur, having learned from Terran snipers the hard way, took point, hitting unarmored necks with frightening accuracy. Pyro wasn’t far behind, barely wasting a shot as her pistol ripped a hole through the beskar plates. Karyn, as ranking officer and with multiple deployments in the Clone Wars, coordinated the rest. The cadre of Mandalorians, supposedly the greatest warriors in the galaxy, dropped like flies.

“I hope you have a plan, Artur, because if you don’t we’re dead.” Karyn said, the briefest hint of nervousness slipping into the edge of her voice. The man in question was busy digging around the bodies’ pouches, pulling out a comlink with a triumphant grin and flicked it on.

“Gar verde cuyir kyrayc, an ashi ti aru'ela narser kelir me'dinuir te adla vencuyot.” Artur spoke clearly, his voice carrying an authority only found in people used to issuing commands. “Ni echoy dayn sha'kajir bal jorhaa'ir at Ursa Wren.”

Yana’s eyes widen at the demand, which made Yissa’s eyes widen at the previously unknown fact that her wyf knew Mando’a. A female voice, young and very obviously confused, traded words with him for a moment before the line went dead.

The group stood there in stunned silence for a second before Karyn decided to break the silence.

“Do I even want to know what you just said?”

He glanced at her, and was that guilt in his eyes? “Basically, I told them that their soldiers are dead, if they send more we’ll just kill more, then asked for a cease-fire and an audience with Ursa Wren. Her daughter just accepted on her behalf.”

…

“You asked for WHAT!?”

4 notes · View notes

aeon2407 · 1 year

Text

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 3

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Evergreen Forest, Krownest

“Actually, how did you two meet?”

It’s been two hours since Artur left, two hours since a Mandalorian wearing the most colorful armor she’s ever seen stripped his weapons and took him away in stuncuffs.

Sabine Wren, Sundari Academy defector and Phoenix Squadron’s weapons expert, took him away in cuffs.

Yana’s been keeping herself busy by helping with digging a trench for shelter and fortifications in case the Wrens decide to go for violence and rigging the Disciple’s databank with a generous amount of dentons. That and casual conversation. Odo’s question caught her attention, and she took a moment to decide if answering it now would cause her anxiety to show.

To Sith hell with it. Everyone here was family to her, anyway.

“Uh… he had to attend a full year at Royal after they left Terra, General Tagge’s orders. Apparently jumping straight from Lieutenant to Major required some extra leadership training.” A few chuckles. “Anyway, he was there my final year. We met in Professor Partagaz’s Criminal Psychology class. We got to know each other in the sparring ring and on the range, though. He went back to batt the day after Jashin and I commissioned.”

A smile crept onto her face at the memories, pushing the anxiety and stress back. The challenges, the banter, The Kiss, the sex.

Most of her paid leave for the next four years was spent taking his private shuttle to Coruscant or Spira or Bespin or wherever they could find real meat on the grill and a good, soundproofed hotel room. She loved being loud and a bottom and vulnerable with him, just like she loves doing it all with Yissa now. It was liberating, especially for someone with her upbringing.

“It was tough, you know?” Now that she was talking and comfortable doing it, everything started to spill unprompted. “Dating someone on the other end of the galaxy, working the jobs and the hours we did. But we made it work. We made it work for four years.”

Odo looked fascinated, Yissa was pointedly uncomfortable, Jashin knew all of this already, but it was Faro who asked the tough question. “Why did you two break things off? I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, but he was crying his eyes out that night.”

“We both needed more than what a long-distance relationship can offer.” Pyro automatically used the same reply she gave Jashin back then before she registered the rest of what was said. “Wait, how did you know he was crying? We broke up at Tagge Manor.”

Now it was Faro’s turn on the backfoot. She obviously hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Um… uh…”

Her mentor was uncharacteristically nervous, stumbling over her words like a new ensign, and it took Yana a few seconds of staring before it clicked.

“OH SHIT!”

Everyone jumped back at the volume, and some snow fell from the branches above. Yana was looking at Faro with an unmistakable mixture of surprise and disgust, the galactic expression for when one finds certain people in certain… situations.

Everyone waited with bated breaths for Pyro to finally spill whatever it was she figured out. And when she finally did, it was with an appropriate amount of horror in her voice.

“You kriffed Cassio Tagge?”

Karyn reminds herself, yet again, to cram a filter somewhere in her mentee’s vocal functions. Maybe Thrawn can help.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took another two hours of huddling around and bundling together in their little tarp-covered trench, with Karyn suffering and refusing to acknowledge the bombardment of questions aimed at her, before Artur came back with a Gauntlet starfighter and an escort of jetpacked Mando troops, just before his self-appointed deadline. There was blood splattering his face and coating his fingers, snow in his hair, a blaster burn on his right bicep, and a burnt right gauntlet.

He held his head high despite the injury though, his weapons were back where they belonged, and there weren’t cuffs on his wrists anymore. Something was different about his escorts too. Their stances were no longer hostile, more professional and in some cases even a little deferential if you squint and look from an angle.

Beside her, Pyro must’ve noticed the same thing and came to some sort of conclusion, because Karyn heard her let out a surprised gasp followed by a string of very colorful words, in multiple languages to boot, that would’ve made Marinith proud and Thrawn tell her things about herself.

It wasn’t until her surrogate son lifted the tarp and told them it was time to go that Karyn noticed what Pyro must’ve earlier. There was a lightsaber on his hip. More specifically, the fabled Darksaber, last known to be in the possession of Sabine Wren.

That would explain the escort. The questions now, however, would be whether Artur had to commit sororicide to become Mand’alor, and what he was going to do with the title.

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Hydian Way, Hyperspace

Artur took a detour close to Mandalore and launched the saber into orbit. “Ni jor'naycir te dha kad'au bal te gai be Mand'alor. Vercopa te projor verda alorir”, he had muttered to himself, voice as flat as when he was Vader’s left hand, then punched in the coordinates for Cantonica and all but yanked the lever. He didn’t want, or need, the title of Mand’alor. Someone else can have it.

A collective sigh of relief was let out from the bundle of people behind him as the familiar warped lights of hyperspace flushed the cockpit a shade of blue. The troop bay on a Gauntlet wasn’t small by any means, but between the number of people and storage cubes, four of them ended up having to sit on each other’s lap. Of course, with two couples among them it worked out perfectly.

He spent the next two hours or so in silence, checking everything from the navicomputer to the engine readings with the precision and decisiveness of someone who gave Soontir Fel and Han Solo a run for their credits during dogfights at Cliffside.

It was a shame Solo deserted on Mimban. He was looking forward to getting the man back into the Carida flight program, or maybe Skystrike would’ve been a better fit. He was definitely good enough to fly for the Empire, maybe even with SCAR Wing One.

The cockpit door sealed shut as Pyro lean against his shoulder from behind. A hand trailed down to his chest in a comforting hug, and he instinctively covered it with his own, lightly squeezing and rubbing her calloused palm with his thumb.

Yana felt a mangled mix of emotions slam into her heart at the touch. Safety came first, then love. Peace. Vulnerability. Longing. Guilt.

She didn’t pull away.

“Did you…”

“No.”

“Are you still…”

“Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Yana.”

…

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

…

“It’ll crush you whether you talk about it or not, Artur. Better here and now than on the job.”

An acknowledging hum. Pyro knew the man well enough to leave it be.

“Does Faro know?”

…

“She does.”

“You told her?”

“Dad did.”

“Wasn’t his place.”

“It was, actually.”

“Says who?”

“Me. Gave him permission and everything.”

“Oh.”

…

“Still can’t believe they…”

A grimace from her. A chuckle from him.

“How’d you think we met?”

…

“Fair enough. Was it as gross for you as it is for me?”

“I’m in the Army, Pyro. Unit morale is basically contingent on sex, and we don’t usually have the privacy you sailors do.”

A deadpan and slightly confused stare.

“No, it wasn’t gross to me. They both liked each other, they both seemed to have enjoyed it, and it didn’t affect any careers, so I didn’t care either way.”

“Huh. Haven’t thought about it that way.”

“I can tell.”

A light smack on the head. “Asshole.”

A shared chuckle.

“In her defense he was quite charming back then, and…”

“I really don’t want to think about it more than necessary.”

“Fair enough.”

“Thank you.”

“Everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Not you though.”

“Wanted to check up on you.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The conversation lulled into silence from there, but neither of them minded it, Pyro content with leaning against the man who had once made her of all people happy at the thought of marriage, Artur content to keep holding her hand and rubbing her knuckles. It was a pale reflection of what they once had, but it was the best he’d get.

The navicomputer chimed, signally their imminent exit from hyperspace. With a noticeable amount of reluctance, Yana pulled her hand out from under his and made her way back.

Don’t say it, Tagge. For all that’s good and proper, don’t say it.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Hammerly, I would’ve asked if you wanted to try again, now that we’re posted on the same ship.”

Damn it.

Yana paused, her hand hovering above the door control.

“If it wasn’t for Yissa, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.”

She opened the door and walked away.

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Hyperspace Penthouse, 49th – 53rd Floor, Mon’t Car’l Tower, Canto Bight, Cantonica

“So this is what owning a whole region of Space gets you.”

“No, this is what the War Mantle contract gets you.”

“Nah, this is Founder money right here.”

“Can’t be. The Hammerlies were Founders too, and they’re rich, but not this kriffing rich.”

“Tarkin has the one below us, though. Must be an exclusivity thing.”

“You say that like the Tarkins didn’t own Eriadu pre-Empire.”

Karyn and Yissa quietly found seats for their sore and tired bodies, letting the junior officers gush to their hearts’ content while Artur hauled their cubes into the kitchen. To be completely fair to the looies, it was one hell of an apartment. Curved, floor-to-ceiling transparisteel windows on either side and an open concept balcony allowed plenty of light into the living room and provided one of the most spectacular views any of them had ever seen, overlooking a glistening ocean as the dimming lights of sunset caught the waters just right.

Circular living rooms haven’t been in style since the Clone Wars, but this one walked the line between modern and classic and looking no less classy doing it. Couches, armchairs, and pouf couches lined the windows, balcony, and around the large wooden caf table, circular of course, placed in front of the fireplace.

Oh right, there was an actual fireplace here.

The circular, glass-bottomed infinity pool on the second floor led into a decorative waterfall down to the balcony that can double as a refresher, and there were lounge chairs and parasols nearby.

The kitchen was open, only separated from the living room by a marble island and the change in flooring from hardwood and plush carpets to polished stone tiles. Every kitchen appliance under any sun in the galaxy can be seen, sometimes more than once, and Artur had said that there were service droids available for restocking any foodstuff they wanted, whenever they wanted it.

Bedrooms lay spread across the five floors, and Odo joked that he could finally sleep soundly without the others’ ‘nightly activities’ disrupting him. Unfortunately, Jashin and Phyrre seemed to have taken that as a challenge.

“So, is this good or no?” Artur asked from the kitchen, a warm yet amused smile on his face as he watched the lieutenants acting like a clowder given a new shiny toy, which wasn’t all that far from the truth. Honestly, the behavior reminded him of getting Pyro that MM9 for their third anniversary.

Hammerly turned to him from the pouf couch, noticeably more relaxed. “Yeah, this is good.”

Her answer came out in breathy whispers, which got a giggle out of Yana as she curled up on her wyf’s lap, falling asleep in seconds as her daily allocation of manic energy is spent.

They came to Canto Bight for the nightlife, but tonight will be strictly recuperation, either physically or, in some cases, mentally. They have a month. They can waste a day.

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Medical Ward, Wren Stronghold, Krownest

Ursa hasn’t slept for two days, despite her son’s urging, despite her husband’s kind but sobering words saying that there was nothing she could’ve done. Despite that darasuum dar’manda and his cutting accusations.

Bridger sat on the ground next to her, meditating like the proper jetii child that she knew he wasn’t. Or maybe he was praying, she could never tell with his kind. Sabine floated in a bacta tank nearby, still unconscious from blood loss but breathing steadily through the respirator. Her left arm was preserved in a cryostasis unit next door along with her right leg. That demagolka had taken both in one fell swoop.

The older jetii was working with Tristan and Captain Syndulla to look for methods of reattaching limbs. Right now, their best lead was the neuropathic connectivity research conducted by the Kaminoans to install inhibitor chips and fix ‘defects’ in their clones. The three of them were enroute to salvage whatever remained of Tipoca City. The Lasat was venting his anger by sparring her guards into the ground, and Ursa could’ve sworn she heard the droid listed at least fifteen different war crimes in a plan to exact revenge. She might just help out.

But first, she had to address the accusations to Sabine when she wakes up. How do you tell your until-recently estranged daughter that she wasn’t your first child?

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Canto Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Vacation Day 5. Leave remaining: 30 Days.

At this rate, he’ll have four billionaire crewmates instead of just the one by the time they get back shipside. Jashin was afraid to even think about what they’d do with that much money.

It’s been going on like this for the past four days. Artur supply the creds then loudly loses at a no-limits table to attract the high rollers, Yissa keeps track of the cards, Pyro comes in with her big, beautiful brain and wipe them out while Phyrre distracts the floormen in a shimmering dress that was extremely flattering on her. He’d be tempted to rip it off if it wasn’t more expensive than his entire career so far.

This must be entertaining for them, because so far they’ve wiped out every multimillionaire and billionaire at Tagge Palace, KDY Grand, and Coruscant InterGalactic.

All of them would be nursing lifetime bans from every casino on the planet if it wasn’t for the House of Tagge signet gleaming on Artur’s finger. As it were, no one has tried anything yet, but Jashin and Odo were watching from the bar just in case.

Faro has been joyfully on a bender the entire week they’ve been planetside, drowning in every combination of alcohol under the galaxy that wasn’t lethal for human consumption. Given the nature of her job, no one begrudged her the indulgence.

Artur had very thoughtfully left a stim, a few bacta pads, and some water by her bed after hauling her back the first night. He also left a bucket with a note saying ‘you deserve this’ and a smiley face. The bucket has proven itself incredibly useful every morning thus far, and they rolled a dice every day to see who’d have to empty it.

Back to the game though, Artur let out an exaggerated groan as he tossed his cards onto the table and walked off. Trohren Kuat grinned, happy to finally get one over a Tagge as he dumped his entire credit chit, twenty-eight million total, into the game. Time to wipe out this pretty little lass. Maybe he can offer her a chance to earn them back later. Taking Artur Tagge’s creds and the brat’s little bedwarmer would really make his night.

“What does Kuat have?” Odo asked in a whisper as Artur settled next to them at the bar, eyebrows raised in alarm as the man sighed.

“Either Pure Sabacc or nothing of value.”

“And Pyro?”

The sigh led into a predatory grin, the one even Thrawn has learned to be apprehensive of, as Pyro called and placed her cards down gently. “Idiot’s Array.”

The look on Kuat’s face was pure aurum, and Artur took the opportunity to mockingly toast the man from across the floor with a glass of Kuati gin. A raised eyebrow as the older man rose from his seat hostilely reminded both of them how KDY got such a good deal on their slice of War Mantle, and how easily they can lose it. He lost his father’s favor. He still had his aunt’s.

Artur turned to look at Pyro, smiling gently at the smug and gleeful expression on her gorgeous face as she transferred the eighty-million-credit pot into her chit and skipped to the bar.

The haul was now nine hundred million split four ways. Phyrre gets double on account of marriage, and Artur and Yissa were happy to hand over half their shares each.

“Great job, darling”, Yissa said as she glided up next to her wyf, planting a kiss on her lips now that Pyro can drop the act of being Artur Tagge’s trollop, part of their plan to hook Kuat in given the man’s inexplicable despisal of the House of Tagge, which worked like a kyber charm.

Pyro preened at the compliment and pulled her wyf back in for another kiss, a soft but blazing one that drew a few stares. It was unlike her, really, to be this brazen, but Yissa definitely wasn’t complaining.

“We should be going back. It’s late”, she breathlessly said. Yana nodded mutely.

Artur was the only outsider that recognized the love and lust in her eyes. First time he saw it when it wasn’t directed at him, though, and the realization made his gin taste sour instead of that familiar bitterness he was looking for.

Damn it. Why was this so hard?

“She’s right. It’s 0200. We should head back and catch some sleep before sunrise.” Artur did his damn best to keep any emotion besides joy and contentment out of his voice. Verdict’s still out on whether he succeeded.

With that, he downed the glass, tossed a 5000-credit chip onto the bar, and gestured for everyone else to follow. Odo hasn’t been drunk since making Junior Lieutenant, so he was the designated driver while Artur rode shotgun. Jashin already had Phyrre in his lap behind the driver and was using every last bit of self-control he had left to not take her then and there, taking the edge off slightly by starting a loud and heady make out session, both drunk out of their minds. Next to them, Yissa had Pyro in a similar position, just with more snuggling and cuddling than kissing.

Artur found his knuckles turning whiter by the minute on the armrests, and his heart was pounding in his ears. And if Odo noticed, he certainly didn’t comment on it.

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Hyperspace Penthouse, 49th – 53rd Floor, Mon’t Car’l Tower, Canto Bight, Cantonica

Vacation Day 7. Leave Remaining: 28 Days

Artur was suffering. That much he knew.

He also knew beforehand that being around Yana and not being with her would be a stab to the heart, but after a string of failures against a frustratingly elusive Saw Gerrera he needed an out from under Vader to keep his troopers safe, so when Tarkin gave him a choice between 1st Battalion staying with the 501st or reassignment to the Chimaera as an independent unit he took it, thinking that the wounds had healed.

No regrets on the choice, but he was a fool for thinking that he could ever move past Ilyana Pyrondi. Tagging along on this vacation was just unnecessary torture.

Maybe it was lackluster soundproofing, something he has been wanting to fix for a while, but Hammerly seemed to be extra loud these past few nights, and the twisting feeling in his heart was making it hard to sleep, so he’s been tiring himself out by painting his knuckles red with death stick dealers and spice peddlers in alleyways and taking an ice bath in the morning.

And now they were at the beach, and for the first time since learning how to, Artur Tagge didn’t want to swim.

Because swimming would mean getting close to a Pyro while neither of them had anything on beside skintight bathing togs. And while he immensely enjoyed the view, being in that particular situation, given the circumstances, wasn’t something he looked forward to.

It didn’t matter, in the end. Bright demeanor, easy smile, friendly banter. That was all he needed to do. When all was said and done, everyone present deserved a good, long vacation, and he refused to be the one to ruin it.

“You might want to unclench your jaw, Artur. Imperial benefits doesn’t include dental.”

The Tagge heir glanced towards Faro, who had just made herself comfortable on the bar two seats left of him, a multicolored drink (surprise, surprise) already in hand. There was a dreaded look of sympathy in her eyes, and Artur turned his head away, forcing his masseter to loosen as he took a large sip of Whyren's Reserve. He felt like drowning in alcohol today, might as well splurge on the good stuff.

“I know how hard it is, trust me, but at some point you have to move on.”

“There is no moving on, don’t you get that?” Artur snapped, seething. He hated the tone she used, the look in her eyes. He was a Tagge, damnit. Son of a General, nephew of a Baroness, heir to one of the wealthiest and most powerful dynasties in the galaxy and a kriffing war hero on top of that. Who was she to pity him?

He snuffed out that train of thought immediately as he glimpsed her wounded expression. She was just trying to care, and it was unbecoming to brag about himself like that, even in his own head. A deep breath helped to calm his racing heart and cool the heat in his blood. “I’m sorry.”

The tone he used was even more pathetic than he thought, and far more than he would ever admit to. A hand found its way onto his shoulder, riddled with old callouses that have softened after years of holding bridge command instead of intensive fieldwork. “Talk to me, Arty.”

“She’s the love of my life”, Artur muttered. It hurts, admitting that fact out loud, but this was Karyn Faro he was talking to, so he was safe. “I’m not being dramatic. I’ve put a lot of thought into it. She’s the one.”

Karyn sat there in stunned silence. She knew that when Artur loved, he loved passionately and unequivocally, but this was a completely different level. What should she say?

“And now you’re not with her anymore.”

Because pointing that out was the best option, Karyn. Good kriffing job.

Artur stiffened, swallowing a scathing sarcastic reply. His body loosened up once again as he leaned into her touch.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yana was conflicted, and that made her feel unthinkably guilty.

She was in an incredible relationship with an incredible woman that is Yissa Hammerly. She was loved. She was cared for. She was cherished and appreciated.

So why was her heart torn between loving this incredible woman and yearning for Artur Tagge? It made her feel filthy and disloyal.

Yana dunked her head under again, letting the cold water wash over her face in an attempt to clear her mind. She knew the feelings still lingered, what they had weren’t something one just moves on from, but she didn’t expect it to hit her like a cargo ship the moment she saw him again. She’d managed to mostly stay strictly friendly with him so far, but now he was so close.

Gah, this was why she hesitated to start things with Yissa. It wasn’t fair to her, but even after trying to warn her off by saying that she still wasn’t over her ex, Yissa still wanted to be with her, and that finally convinced Yana that a relationship with Yissa Hammerly was worth it. And it definitely was.

Yana had come to terms with the fact that she loved both Yiss and Arty in equal amounts, if for slightly different reasons. Now, she needed to choose.

Wait, maybe she didn’t.

A plan was beginning to form in Yana’s mind, more complex than any equation she’d ever tackled, one where she can get the best of both worlds. But if it failed, she’ll lose everything.

Now, where the hell is Jashin?

#star wars #pyrondi #star wars rebels #sw fanfic #hammerly #ezra bridger #sabine wren #ursa wren #darksaber #lomar #agral #yve #karyn faro #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #c1 10p #star wars empire #so completely inspired by @contentment of cats

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aeon2407 · 9 months

Text

Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 6

For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.

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Ilyana deep in thought was Ilyana at the drafting table, operating her own applications, working on the thing that saw her plucked from the Youth Corps and shoved into the Academy.

The new weapons she was working on were small mines loaded with concentrated acid that would eat uncoated durasteel, a silicate drone that would transmit the shielding frequencies of enemy ships on impact, guided drones built from silicates that wouldn't show up on sensors, ventral laser canons capable of sustained blasts and varying it's frequency.

A simple technique of glazing compressed carbon panels onto a hull rendered it almost impervious to standard optical weapons, acids, sensors, and even some direct strikes by torps and mines - it also turned the grey of durasteel a mirror-finish black.

And she remembered.

It was as if she lived a year in a dream, head empty of all but the project under her hands, where her feet took her, of eating and sleeping as if her soul left her body to carry on living. To Ilyana's knowledge, she did not dream. Her barrack said differently.

Over time, she noted that the tasks became more complex, sometimes problems arose, and while they were not pleased with a 'child' telling them their designs were flawed, no one could deny the data or the fact that Emperor Palpatine, Lord Vader, and High Command would not take kindly to having holes blown in their ships by their own equipment.

They pulled her from the welding line one day, sat her in front of the drafting table, and set her to learn. And she did, her hands-on life of building and testing weaponry giving her what she needed even if her limited education didn't.

Then they jammed her through said education. Her life became a series of chairs, then sparring, then shooting. And that was when her instructors found her 'master eye.' If she could aim something at it, Ilyana would hit it.

Sienar tried to keep her, after all the Corulag Academy was right there, and they were her legal guardian along with the Youth Corps. While Ilyana was not the typical prep student, something her classmates made sure she never forgot, she was the proverbial diamond in the rough. The Empire would cut and polish her.

The Grand Inquisitor and Seventh Sister came. Observed. Some Force sensitives had quirks, talents that were otherwise unusable, so narrow as to be ridiculous. Ilyana would be a good gunnery sergeant, at best a weapons officer, or another brilliant mind in R&D, but that was all she could ever be.

With that, Royal Imperial plucked her away, beating out Corulag, Carida, Raithal, and Anaxes, bringing a child from a primitive backwater world, someone TaggeCo was training to fly cargo donks, to the very heart of the Empire. Her destiny offtrack, Ilyana became someone around whom the Force rippled like a pebble into a pond, or the butterfly who beat her wings and created the seed of a hurricane.

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Merri Barlin was from a good Corulag family. Not the Hammerlies, nowhere near, but the Barlins were an old, stable upper-middle-class family and Merri grew up with the hum of the hyperdrive on her parents' ship from the time she was born.

The youngest of five daughters, Merri was the studious one. Not the one picked for academic brilliance, but dogged persistence in her area of interest. The Barlins sent her to a decent school that realized what they had on their hands and shipped her to the Pilot/Nav/Helm Program at Skystrike, who then traded her to Royal in exchange for another recruit.

It was odd that she, Yissa, Phyrre, Jashin, Odo, and Ilyana all in some way revolved around that one point in time and space.

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Anakin remembered the day he first met Artur Tagge. He was still just a Padawan then, sent by the Council with Obi-Wan to recruit a new Force sensitive child on Tepasi in an attempt to get him 'used to the way of things'. He hated it, but knew that even if the family was hesitant in giving their child away, pressure from the local government and the Senate would ensure that the Order got the child.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Things proceeded as usual right up until Obi-Wan told Cassio Tagge what they were here for. Immediately, Anakin understood why the Order was wary of the Tagge Dynasty. The man threatened to go to war with the Order if they took his son. Obi-Wan assured him that the Order didn't work that way, and that the choice always belonged to the parents, or in this case parent, of the child.

Hypocritical of him to then turn right to the Council to help Tagge 'make the best decision' the moment they were in hyperspace.

However, as soon as they landed on Coruscant, the two received a message from the Senate forbidding them from ever attempting to take Artur Tagge. Apparently, the Tepasi system threatened to withdraw from the Republic. Tepasi, and The House in particular, controlled the decision-making capability of the Seswenna sector through their relations to the Tarkin and Motti families, and the entire sector would’ve withdrew with them.

TaggeCo accounted for 82% of the Republic’s economy on its own, with claws everywhere from the walls of the Deep Core to the edge of the Unknown Region. In the short time it took Anakin and Obi-Wan to travel from Tepasi to Coruscant, they had abruptly withdrew everything they own on four different Core systems.

Chandrila went into a silent crisis as everything from crops to industrial products to infrastructure maintenance fell below critical levels. Corulag and Corellia scrambled to suppress the riots as their entire infrastructure networks were yanked out from under them.

Alderaan had it worst, Delaya rioting as they were suddenly out of jobs and public services were suddenly shut down. The Alderaanian Defense Force was deployed to the industrial moon and the suppression had been brutal, resulting in record numbers of emigration from Delaya, crippling Alderaan’s industrial production, with a significant number relocating to Tagge Space. The entire event went down in history as the Core Riots, the worst conflict the Core Worlds had seen since the Hyperspace War. It only stopped once the order making Artur Tagge untouchable to the Jedi Order went into effect and TaggeCo moved back into those systems with more favorable deals. The House finally became wealthier than Coruscant and Chandrila combined.

Anakin had sigh in relief when the message arrived. That was one order from the Senate he'd have no problem following. The reason they wanted the child so badly wasn't even because he was overly Force sensitive like Anakin was, anyway. It was because he was, as Master Windu called it, an “aberration in the Force.”

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When Vader saw the name on his datapad, he had Artur's blood tested. 4700 per cell was barely enough to be recruited into the Order and a few more practical tests concluded that he would never be powerful enough to be part of the Inquisitorious, even though he held himself surprisingly well against Fifth Brother, and even better against Seventh Sister.

There was some potential there though. Enhanced speed, agility, predictive combat ability stemming from what little Force sensitivity he did have. Sword fighting skills from the Dynasty as well. Vader knew a deadly soldier when he saw one, and decided to train the boy in Form V and methods of controlling his midichlorians so as to achieve his full potential.

As it turned out, he was unknowingly cultivating a new future.

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There were always cases that slipped past the Jedi, either due to political circumstances or just because they weren’t strong enough in the Force. Karyn Faro was one such case, evaluated and then rejected before she'd even finished breast-feeding.

But that sliver of Force talent brought her, and others like her, to the Chimaera, and it was enough for those little wings to beat a hurricane to live, for The Cultivators to turn those ripples from The One Not Meant To Be into a supernova, making way for The Aberration to take root.

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The Force screamed at the threads of destiny to stay on track. Artur Tagge was supposed to be aborted. Artur Tagge was supposed to be a miscarriage. Artur Tagge was supposed to be a Jedi, to die in Order 66. Artur Tagge was supposed to die with the rest of his battalion in San Diego. Artur Tagge was supposed to die in the ambush by Saw Gerrera. Artur Tagge was supposed to die in a duel by his mother’s hands.

The Aberration known to the galaxy as Artur Kyric Tagge was never supposed to be captured by Clan Wren or any other Rebel faction. The moment it happened was the moment he took his place in the flow of destiny, and things irreversibly changed. The new timeline solidified when Ilyana Kaiti Pyrondi took command of the Levinbolt and led the Armada to Krownest.

For the first time since the conception of Anakeen Ekkreth, the Force shifted its focus away from The Chosen One, its offspring, and The Catalyst, its descendant, and instead The Aberration and The One Not Meant To Be took their places in a new, frighteningly uncertain future.

Right after Artur’s capture, Vader experienced his first restful, dreamless night in over twenty years. The invisible burden of Destiny was off his shoulders. Now to make sure it stays off.

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Beyond Krownest Atmosphere

Tenth Minute of Krownest Assault

Hera was honestly surprised. Four minutes of weaving through barrage after barrage of fire, taking multiple hits, and they haven’t sent a single TIE to intercept her. Oh, never mind, there they were, flooding out of Star Destroyers like swarms of flies.

She tried to lock on, but these pilots must be Special Forces because she’d never seen any Imperial fly that well. Finally, she locked onto a TIE, and Ezra sent a burst right at it.

The TIE microjumped. The TIE microjumped.

Hera realized with a pit of dread in her stomach that the Interdictors weren’t just there to stop her from escaping, they were acting as anchor points for the TIEs to use lightspeed all over the battlefield. And she thought only TIE Defenders had hyperdrives!? These were Aggressors and Interceptors!

Hera was fast, but it was redundant to say that lightspeed was faster.

A hit knocked Chopper off his wheels. Hera swore. That shot came from behind, but there was nothing on her scanners. These things have cloaking now too!?

“Tristan, on the aft. Shoot it!”

“Shoot what, Hera? There’s nothing here.”

Wait, what? “What do you mean there’s nothing there? We just got shot from behind!”

“I know, but I’m telling you there’s nothing here, at least nothing I can see.”

Shit. Invisible TIE fighters? There were rumors of something called the TIE Phantom, but it was only ever a rumor, never confirmed. Then the Defender showed up and they focused on that instead.

Another hit, this one on portside. Shields down to 60%.

A dorsal hit. Starboard. Aft. Portside. Aft again. They were laying down suppressing fire in all directions, but there wasn’t even so much of a flicker from a deflector shield to let her know where they were as she executed evasive maneuvers. Kanan and Ezra tried to sense the pilot but ran into interference. Vader was so Dark in the Force it was like trying to look through oil.

Shields down to 10%.

It stopped. Completely stopped. An ion torpedo from a fancy-looking capital ship hit them right in the exhaust port, bypassing the remaining shields, and the Ghost was suddenly dead in space.

Hera was in the middle of rerouting the auxiliary when another ion torp hit them in the other exhaust port and suddenly they had no auxiliary at all.

“Wait, that means…” Sabine’s panicked voice came through her comlink.

“We have no life support”, Hera finished the sentence for her.

They weren’t being pulled in. Did the Empire want them to die of suffocation out here? That was brutal, even by Imperial standards.

The Ghost lurched towards the surrounding ships just as she finished that thought. Alright, false alarm, they were gonna be okay. Or as okay as rebels in Imperial captivity could be.

Or not. That was the Executor. That was Vader’s flagship pulling them in. They had two Jedi on board. No no no no no…

Another lurch. They stopped. The Ghost shuddered violently, then was pulled towards another ship, the one that shot those torpedoes.

Next to her, Kanan paled. “Vader just backed down.”

Hera blinked. Say what now?

He must’ve been reading her thoughts, because her lover turned to her. “Vader just backed down against whoever is commanding that ship pulling us in.”

Hera considered their options and realized that sometimes death was preferrable to capture. After all, no one was unbreakable.

“Everyone, prep your blasters. Make sure you have one shot for yourself.”

This was most likely end of the line for most, if not all, of them, but no one here would fall without a fight.

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Command Bridge, SSD Executor, Death Squadron

Eleventh Minute of Krownest Assault

Vader could feel victory at hand. Two familiar Force signatures on board, a new Knight and a Padawan. Their ship had no power, no auxiliary, and caught in his tractor beam.

Just as the portside hangar opened to receive its cargo, an alarm sounded.

“Another tractor beam just latched onto the Ghost. It’s… it’s the Levinbolt, my Lord.”

Vader didn’t acknowledge the lieutenant’s report.

“Hail from the Levinbolt. Captain Pyrondi’s personal codes, Lord Vader.”

Now that one he acknowledged. “Send it through, Captain Piett.”

“Right away, milord.”

“Mine.” The demand was accompanied by a feral growl and nothing else. Under the mask, Vader raised what would’ve been an eyebrow. He had some experience with small, homicidal brunettes. It was best not to confront them if possible.

“Lieutenant, disengage our tractor beam and allow the Levinbolt capture of the Ghost.”

“My Lord? I- I mean, right away, Lord Vader.”

The confusion was palpable, but that was to be expected. Vader had never relented, except to Sidious. But the old Emperor was now doomed to fail, to die while Anakin Skywalker rises from the Dark, and what little sliver of the Fallen Jedi currently still alive wanted the new figureheads of Destiny on his side.

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Command Bridge, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Thirteenth and Final Minute of Krownest Assault

Captain Ilyana Pyrondi was tired. So very, very tired. She wanted nothing more than to neutralize the threat, retrieve Artur, then shed the command rank and go back to being Senior Lieutenant Pyrondi, the Chimaera’s Weapon Systems Officer.

But she was probably looking at a promotion to Captain after this. Her third and final chance, and she’d hold onto this one as long as she got to stay with Her People and the kriff away from Dead Officers Squadron.

She stopped the Ghost just outside of her hangar bay and waited for 3rd SCAR to get back from the surface. Once they were positioned around the bay, she waited for the damn freighter to run out of air, just enough for all aboard to pass out from hypoxia, then cleared the SCARs for entry. She watched their helmet cams as they stunned every rebel they saw on board just to be safe, shot a restraining bolt onto the homicidal droid, then slapped stuncuffs on bodies.

Lapin had provided her with Force-suppression collars, ancient Korriban technology adapted by the Hutts for modern Jedi slaves. As much as Yana wanted to slap the collars onto those Jedi herself, starship captains, especially of this caliber, were not part of raid parties, and the chance of one or both Jedi waking up prematurely was too high to not use the collars immediately.

She had them thrown into separate cells. They were each other’s greatest weapons, and she intended to strip them of that, along with everything else. Every weapon and personal effect was taken and deposited into labeled boxes, their clothes stripped and replaced with containment bodysuits, designed to paralyze the wearer remotely. The droid was forcibly shut down, but not before sending a SCAR to medbay for a minor injury. Even the blind Jedi’s mask was replaced with a blindfold.

She had a single ration pack sent to each of their cells and waited. In the meantime, she turned to her screens. The core of Clan Wren was being brought onto her ships and secured, holdout cells throughout the planet were being routed without mercy, and the planet itself was pretty much pacified. She turned on a frequency and got in touch with Revy.

The assault was over. Time to bring Artur home.

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Wren Stronghold, Krownest

Captain Revy Maklar let her mind wonder as the stronghold was cleared, then back cleared. The assault was way too easy for what was supposedly an entire clan of elite Mandalorian warriors. Why haven’t they done this sooner?

Oh yeah. Politics.

But now, they had a problem. Artur wasn’t here. They found where he was supposed to be, a cell that reminded Revy of her life on Tatooine so much it made the scar on her neck throb. A few chains and a slave collar and it’d be almost a perfect recreation.

Of course Artur couldn’t sit still and wait for rescue. She wouldn’t have, either. But that didn’t help them find him. Her helmet comm chimed. Shit, that must be Pyrondi. “Yes, Captain?”

“Have you secured Artur yet?”

“So, here’s the thing, sir. We cleared and secured the entire stronghold.” Brace for impact. “He’s not here.”

Silence.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S NOT THERE!?”

Revy winced at the volume and almost took her helmet off. “We found where he was being kept. An interrogation room down in the sublevels. There’s a set of broken cuffs, a chair, and two dead guards. We’re sweeping the place again just to be sure, but we might have to look outside.”

“Sir, there’s something here. West Wing, by the window.”

That was Miro. “On my way. Captain Pyrondi, Sergeant Golovan might’ve found something. Standby.”

“Copy that.”

She made her way upstairs and made her way to Miro. “What is it, Sergeant?”

He pointed to a spot outside. Yep, that’s Artur’s mess, alright. “Captain Pyrondi, come in.”

“This is Pyrondi.”

“We found a trail of Mandalorian bodies leading to the forest West of our current location. Requesting aerial support in a sweep search matrix. Might also need a medical crew on standby upon return.”

“SCAR Wing One just finished up here, I’ll send them down. There’s a full medical suite waiting for our dumbass Major’s return.”

Revy chuckled. “Copy that, sir. We’ll find him, don’t worry.”

With that, she signaled for two squadrons. That should be enough for a search party. She just hoped that he would be mostly intact when they find him.

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Secure Communications Room, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Ilyana was having to explain ‘he’s not there’ to The Lady, Artur’s dad, Admiral Motti, Lord Vader, General Veers, and Colonel Yularen. “He just couldn’t sit still. Permission to kill him if he dies?”

Cassio let out a long-suffering sigh. His dumbass son was going to be the death of him. “Granted, Captain. I trust the SCARs already planetside are actively searching for him?”

“Yes, sir. Troopers on the ground and SCAR Wing One above. Standard sweep search matrix.”

“Cassio, when they find Artur, can you please just promote him already? It’ll at least get him out of the field”, Max Veers, the first ever SCAR Trooper and Artur’s old mentor, spoke up. “He’s ready, Cas. Lieutenant Colonel Artur Tagge, SCAR Commander. What do you say?”

“Promotion? I’ll bust him down to Lieutenant for being so kriffing stupid!”

“GENTLEMEN!”

All eyes snapped to Pyrondi, who looked moments away from exploding. “Hash it out in your own time. Stay off my comms unless it’s urgent. Understood?”

They stared at her in shock, but Pyrondi could not be said to be insubordinate when she wasn’t currently operating as an Imperial servicewoman, but a private contractor.

She let out a sigh when no one responded. “Krownest has been completely neutralized. All dissidents have either been captured or executed. A list of soldiers and their number of kills will be provided so that they may be rewarded in accordance with the bounty. I will inform all of you once Artur has been found. If that is all?”

Silence.

“My Lord. My Lady. Sirs.” And with that, she ended the call, then let out a loud, frustrated scream into the void.

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Containment Cell Five, The Levinbolt, Task Force Spearhead

Sabine woke up to a pounding head. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up on a surprisingly comfortable mattress. The room around her was small, but clean. Her body still ached, her head fuzzy and disoriented, but Sabine remembered being pulled in by one of the ships before blacking out. She must be on that ship then. Probably one of the Tagge ships, judging by the luxurious interior on the other side of the two red ray shields acting as a doorway.

She glanced down. Where was her armor? Who the kriff stripped her and put her in… this!?

Someone was walking by. A Human or very similar humanoid, male presenting. Slightly on the shorter side, straight brown hair, gray suit with red accents, datapad in hand. A secretary or assistant, most likely. They looked at her, looked at their datapad, then pressed a button next to the shield and suddenly there was sound in her cell.

“Miss Wren, my name is Lapin, personal assistant to Lady Domina Tagge. I’m here to make you an offer.”

Human then, and a notorious one as well. Their voice was smooth, with a lilt that could’ve only been the sharpness of traditional Tepasi, instead of the thick Corrie accent she’d expected. Sabine saw a button on her side of the room. It looked like a toggle more than a hold-and-talk. After a second of hesitation, she turned it on.

“I’m listening.” She’s not, not really, but when the Voice of Domina Tagge talks to you personally, you need to at least pretend. Questions about her beskar’gam burn on her tongue, but she needs the information first.

“The Lady wants you and your compatriots to join the Armada.”

Sabine stared at them. Stared long and hard for any signs of a joke, which this had to be. To their credit and her chagrin, Lapin didn’t flinch or look uncomfortable at any point. “You’re trying to recruit us into the Empire? Really?”

They looked offended at that. “Not the Empire, Miss Wren. The Dynasty.”

“Same thing.”

“I can assure you it’s not. The Empire is degenerate and corrupt, looking for domination and flaunting power. The House prefers efficiency and effectiveness through convincing others to cooperate. Everyone has a price, it’s a matter of finding the right currency.”

“Your House submitted to Imperial rule.”

“We entertained the Empire and their delusions. But not for much longer. Like I said, the concept is sound, but the Empire has descended into a pit of degeneracy and needs to be removed.”

Sabine saw an opening. “Then help us! Help the Rebellion overthrow them.”

Lapin smiled at her. A Kind Teacher sort of smile. “Then… what? What next? Restore the Republic? With what resources? What kind of political alliance do you have? How many worlds can you guarantee will join you instead of striving for complete independence? How will you maintain the protection that the Empire is providing against pirates and slavers? How will you ensure that the economy doesn’t collapse into a crisis?”

Sabine was stuck scrambling for an answer. She’s… never thought about any of that before. It has always been ‘restore democracy’ but never ‘how do we restore democracy?’ or any of that. “Well, The Dynasty can do all of that, can’t they? Can’t you?”

A nod. “We can. But why would we need the Rebellion?”

She thought about it and came to the most logical conclusion, the one that a Tagge would come to. “You don’t. You don’t need us at all.”

Lapin smiled again. “No, we don’t. But we are always looking for talent. Join us, and you can still have a hand in overthrowing the Empire. If being part of a private military doesn’t appeal to you, there are other options. An R&D job at TaggeCo, perhaps? Mechanical engineering? Your friends will receive the same offer we’re giving you, provided that they are… amenable to our presence.”

Sabine stayed silent. She needed time. She needed to talk to her crew. She told them as much.

“Time you can have, Miss Wren. I understand that this is a lot to process. However, I’m afraid you won’t be allowed to communicate with your friends or family without the Captain’s express permission. Press the button and a crewman will be here shortly to receive requests and answer queries, and I hope you make the right decision.”

With that, they turned on their heels and walked away without another word. She was reeling. She’d thought that capture was going to be the end for her, they all did. They’d be tortured for information then executed without trial for treason. But now?

Now she had a choice. A real choice, if she chose to believe Lapin Tagge of all people.

Was she actually considering this?

…

Yes. Yes she was.

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Evergreen Forest, Krownest

Revy swept the forest carefully. Artur was a master of concealment, something made evidently clear in the months following Terra, and even injured he was capable of fashioning traps and shelter from the environment. She silently cursed Veers for training the boy so damn well as they cleared every nook and cranny her dumbass BC could physically squeeze himself into.

Behind her, Miro stilled and straightened. “Sergeant Miro Golovan. SCR – 1521”, he sounded off loudly.

Revy understood immediately. “Senior Captain Revy Maklar. SCR – 1002.”

Artur dropped from a branch above her head like a sack, bleeding profusely through the makeshift bandages on his knee. Revy opened comms to Pyrondi.

“Artur Tagge is secured. I repeat, Artur Tagge is secured. Requesting medical team on standby. RTB time ten minutes.”

Time to finally wrap this entire operation up. Time to bring the man home.

#star wars #star wars rebels #sw fanfic #pyrondi #star wars empire #ezra bridger #sabine wren #tristan wren #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #darth vader #c1 10p #domina tagge #so completely inspired by @contentment of cats

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