#team besh
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Getting Closer
23: Once you meet your soulmate, it becomes physically uncomfortable to be away from them for long. From this prompt list. Codywan
At first Obi-Wan attributed his exhaustion and headaches to the stress of suddenly being thrust into a war, but no amount of sleep, proper meals, exercise, or meditation seemed to help. If anything, his symptoms seemed to get worse. There were times his vision blurred or his nausea got bad enough he wound up curled in a ball in the ‘fresher.
The healers couldn’t find anything wrong with him and they, too, suggested it might be stress-related, but whatever the cause was, Obi-Wan was getting sick of being sick.
“Maybe you met your soulmate and didn’t realize it.” Anakin was grinning when he said it, but there was a worried light in his eyes.
Obi-Wan huffed in annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous, Anakin. Even if the odds weren’t astronomically against that sort of thing, where, exactly, do you suppose I might have run into them? On Geonosis?”
“It could have been one of the droids. Or the bugs!”
“That’s racist and I’ve taught you better than that.” Obi-Wan leaned against a wall to catch his breath and wait for everything to stop spinning. They were supposed to be on their way to the clone barracks for some meeting of Anakin’s.
“Anyway, I’m quite certain my soulmate is not a Geonosian and droids do not have souls.” It did get him thinking about it, though, much to his irritation. Where else had he been, though? He’d gone to Geonosis straight from Kamino and then...
A troubling thought occurred to him. But he’d been following Jango Fett, not moving away from him, and any discomfort should have ended when Mace killed him.
“Come on, Master Mine, let’s not keep Rex and the others waiting.”
“I hardly see why I need to be here for this,” Obi-Wan said, taking the proffered arm. “If Master Che and her team can’t figure out what’s wrong with me I may not even be allowed to fight.”
“You can always advise me.” Anakin grinned.
“I’ve been trying to get you to listen for ten years without any luck,” Obi-Wan said. “I doubt you’ll start now.”
It made Anakin laugh and that made him feel a little better. He perked up a bit as they approached the barracks. He even released Anakin’s arm and stretched a bit as they approached the guards on duty.
As soon as they entered the barracks proper Obi-Wan felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He stopped dead in the hall as realization sank in.
“Obi-Wan?” Anakin turned to look at him. “Are you okay? Do you need to rest again?”
“I’m fine, Anakin,” he said, which was true... for a certain value of the word.
“Okay, well, Rex is in room 31-Besh, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
“Yes, of course.” He smiled, ignoring the speculative look he got in response. “Lead on, Padawan.”
They hadn’t gone far before they ran into a pair of clones. One had the medical symbol stenciled on his pauldron and a tattoo of a bacta patch on his neck. He was haranguing his companion, whose expression was one of grim determination.
“Just because you’re feeling better now doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way, Commander,” the medic warned.
“I appreciate the concern, Patch, but I’ve been out of commission for too long already. I need to get back to-”
The clone commander froze in place as he caught sight of Obi-Wan. Which was fine, since Obi-Wan’s feet felt glued to the floor. They stared at each other.
“Oh! Generals, sirs!” The medic- Patch- saluted. “Sorry for the interruption!”
“That’s alright,” Anakin said, relaxed as ever. “Is everything alright?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Patch moved to stand in front of the Commander. “We were just, uh, returning to the barracks!”
“Alright then, carry on.” Anakin gave them a dismissive wave and continued on his way.
Obi-Wan didn’t follow. His heart was hammering in his chest and his palms had gone sweaty. Somehow, he managed to wet his lips and speak.
“Hello there.” His voice sounded loud to his own ears. Was it too loud? He smiled, unable to look away from the Commander. “I’m Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. And you are...?”
“He’s fine, General, sir,” Patch said, now standing directly between them and breaking their eye contact. “Just needs some sleep and he’ll be ready to perform all his duties! Sir.”
Fear wafted off him, brushing against Obi-Wan’s shields. He frowned.
“Master?”
Anakin was a bright ball of confusion just at his periphery.
Pushing past Patch, the Commander held out his hand. “Commander CC-2224.” His smile was hesitant, but it warmed Obi-Wan to his core. “My friends call me Cody.”
“Cody.” Obi-Wan repeated, loving the sound of it. He reached out, grasping Cody’s forearm, Mando-style. “It’s very nice to meet you, Cody,” he said, unable to stop his smile.
“Wait,” Anakin said, somewhere far away. “Him??”
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” He tilted his head. “I have a feeling there’s a lot we need to discuss.”
���I...” Cody’s expression wavered for a moment. “Yes, sir. I think that might be a good idea.”
Anakin had drawn Patch off to the side and the two were having an intense whispered conversation.
Obi-Wan realized he was still holding Cody’s arm and released it, feeling heat rise in his face. “Please, call me Obi-Wan.” He gestured at the hall. “I trust you to lead the way... Cody.”
This was going to complicate things immeasurably, but if it led to both of them being happy then maybe it was worth it.
#jedimindfic#codywan#found this in my drafts#I assume I was planning to write more#but this works as-is
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anong thoughts mo sa kathniel beshy besh
im v happy for kathryn ngl... kasi personally hindi ko style si daniel. idk vibe lang nya, hindi para sakin, pero gets ko why she stayed. like kathryn was v was love w him, even after lahat ng mga scandal w daniel and the whole padilla fam.
i j hope walang backlash kasi they deserve a breather yk? its gonna be so tough for them to move from the entire love team, esp kathryn.
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Zenél:
- Chily Team
- Flash
- G Ras
- Instant Cold Turkey
- Kegyelemkettes
- Pettik Ádám (Besh o droM)
- Zebulon
perceid vannak orbán!!
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Creamy Feta Spread with Roasted Olives & Sundried Tomatoes
“The tradition of the Sunday feast accomplishes more than just feeding us. It nurtures us.” ― Chef John Besh
As I write this, I feel a sense of disbelief that we are well into autumn. September seemed to rush by. This summer our teenage son Lukas got his first job and is playing junior varsity football. So we have been running back-and-forth with practices, team dinners, games, and work. Even…
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#feta cheese#feta dip#feta spread#olive dip#olive spread#olives#olives and feta cheese#roasted olives
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So, I rolled another Agent. Ra'eun Tolvik.
He attended the IAOZ (Imperial Academy of Ziost) with Hulac and the two were close friends. They were in the same squad (and by default the same company) together. 1st battalion, Besh company, 2 platoon, 3rd squad. They were battle buddies whenever they needed to be and were on drill team together, being co-commanders their final year. They were the armed exhibition duet.
He also reached the position of Cyper agent, though Ra'eun would be sold out by a contact during a mission and be apprehended by the Republic. He'd spend the rest of the war, and then a good chunk of the war against the eternal empire, in a Republic prison.
In the break between KOTFE and KOTET, Hulac would learn of his whereabouts and have him freed. After recovering, Ra'eun would be offered a place in the EA and would take it.
I'm thinking of doing a fic about the two and their time in the IAOZ.
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The Coming Storm pt1 section 3
Sodaln would turn to the troopers, “We are going to assist Besh Squad; they are currently pinned down from the looks of it.” He motioned down one of the branching paths in the trench line. “We are going to split up and clear our way to the bunker and meet back up there.” They both nodded at him and began to move out. As Sodaln fought his way toward the bunker he would take note of the drop off in enemy resistance, they were retreating? But why he asked himself, they held the advantage in this part of the trench. He would get his answer when he reached the bunker and spotted the two troopers from before entering it. Then there was a sudden explosion knocking him on his back, his ears ringing he slowly propped himself up on the side of the trench wall and looked toward where the bunker entrance once was. It was a trap this was why the Republic was falling back, they were setting traps in their own lines in the hopes of making the attackers pay for every inch they take. An hour later Sodaln would regroup with a number of Imperial soldiers and they all moved onto the base. By the time Sodaln and his team made it to the jamming tower there were only four of them left. “Shut down this tower and maybe we can get some reinforcements out here.” He said as the only other Chiss among them began typing away on the console. Sodaln would look to a holotable displaying the base layout and the location of the walkers of which would blink out every few seconds as the other units completed their tasks. “Mid Captain Sodaln!” The Chiss shouted. “Jamming signal is down and we are getting scattered reports from HQ, they claim to be under attack!” Sodaln looks up from the table surprised by the news. “That cannot be possible. We have completely tied up the Republic forces down here and the Empire holds the void.” The holotable would begin to show new contacts appear from above the base, seeing this Sodaln would move to the nearest window to get a visual on what is coming down on the. They looked like some kind of dropship with troops equipped with jetpacks jumping from them into the base attacking both Imperial and Republic troops. The enemy troops looked like a type of droid he hadn't seen before, Sodaln would look back to one of the Imperials to give an order but would be knocked unconscious as a rocket fired from the new enemy blew away a large section of the wall of the room they stood in. Sodaln would awake a week later on a ship and in two weeks time would be heading back to Ascendancy space with what was left of his fellow Chiss after talks with a Chiss name Aristocra Saganu brokered a peace deal between the Chiss Ascendancy and a new galactic power that stunned the greater galaxy, the Eternal Empire of Zakuul.
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Pieces - Chapter 1
Hi everyone!
Happy 45th Anniversary to Star Wars and Kenobi eve!!!! As a contribution to the celebrations, I've decided to kick off posting of my Commander Wolffe/OFC fic 'Pieces'!
For the posting schedule, I'll aim to release fortnightly on Sundays.
Synopsis:
Having trained her whole life to keep the peace, Jedi Padawan Issa Straun is thrust into the start of the Clone Wars, expected to take command of the 104th alongside the gruff Commander Wolffe. They wade through battle after battle, trying to find their feet sharing the responsibility of leadership under Plo Koon, but what neither of their training could prepare them for was how the war would leave scars to last a lifetime.
Chapter 1
AO3 Link
Pairing: Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun
Warnings: M - Canon typical violence, cursing
Word Count - 6.5k
A/N: I would just like to take the chance to thank the INCREDIBLE @wild-karrde who has listened to my ramblings about this fic month after month, who has dutifully beta read all my work and dealt with my abysmal grammar and punctuation. This story probably wouldn't exist without her backing and support and I am just eternally grateful, so thank you my friend!! 💚
Masterlist | Next Chapter
Blaster fire rained down, smashing into the crates surrounding them and making the commander wince as he ducked down further to protect his head. We need a new plan to get around these sniper droids. Across the battlefield, he watched as the rest of his troops got pushed back by the enemy’s ambush, retreating for whatever cover they could find. One of the shinies was knocked to the ground as he turned his back towards the enemy for cover, his shout of pain hardly registering over the battering of blaster bolts around them.
A trickle of sweat slid down the commander’s temple beneath his helmet as he flexed his jaw at the sight of his downed trooper. Osik. “Sir, we’re pinned. Besh team can’t advance until we take out those snipers,” his sergeant’s voice crackled over their helmet comms, sounding more frustrated by the second. You and me both, the commander thought as he ground his teeth together even further while more debris showered over them from the enemy’s onslaught. The entire mission had gone aft up the second their boots hit the ground and they were faced with a much larger enemy force than intelligence had suggested.
The commander’s head cycled through images of previous battle simulations, trying to find any similar situations which could spark inspiration from the catalogue in his mind. After a few seconds, the memories behind his eyes halted on simulation 309216, one from his ARC training. We’ve got you now clankers. He felt it as his body thrummed with the pace of battle, his heart battering against his rib cage as he sucked in a few breaths before clicking on his comm.
”Alright troopers! Listen up. Aurek and Cresh teams, send out four troopers to distract the snipers, Besh will provide cover fire while the remaining groups make a break for the towers and load them with droid poppers. Any questions?”
“No sir!”
“Good. On my mark… three… two… one, NOW!”
Just as Aurek and Cresh teams made their advance, a monotonous voice cut through the blaster fight and stopped the clones in their tracks.
“SIMULATION TERMINATED.”
Immediately, the battlefield around them fritzed out of existence, leaving the troopers in a daze as the bright lights of Kamino’s training facility came back into focus once more. The soldiers present moaned at the loss of the battle, their adrenaline running high and blood boiling for the continued fight.
Their helmets snapped upwards as the speakers in the room crackled to life once more. “CC-3636, please report to Taun We’s office,” a Kaminoan’s voice boomed through the tannoy, echoing off the simulation room walls.
Wolffe looked around. He could practically feel his troopers’ excitement in the air as the realisation of what was about to happen hit everyone in the room. It’s time. Since his helmet was on, he allowed himself a smirk before addressing his men. “Looks like we’re shipping out boys.” The room erupted in cheers and whoops, brothers in arms clapping each other enthusiastically on the back as they got ready to fulfil their true purpose. With an added spring in his step, Wolffe exited the training room to find out exactly who their battalion would be assigned to.
About damn time.
—---
Issa stared intently down at the sleeve of her auburn robe. The stitching had started to come apart, leaving some loose threads dangling from the seam. She pulled at one of them but it refused to budge, causing her face to scrunch at the offending string, as if it was personally mocking her. Beside her, a modulated chuckle sounded from her Master as he placed a clawed hand over her blue one, making her pause. “Relax, little one.”
“Sorry, Master,” the Pantoran sighed, not quite understanding why she was so nervous. Well that was a bit of a lie, it was very clear why she was nervous. Preparing to meet a battalion of cloned soldiers so that she could fight in a full-scale galactic war wasn’t really an everyday occurrence for the Jedi. She looked up at the Kel Dor next to her who was peering out the side of the transport they were on. Master Plo radiated tranquillity from his every pore and Issa had never been more jealous. There was so much unknown in their future that she was unable to let her feelings flow out into the Force. What was war like? How long will we be fighting? What will the clones be like? Can I actually fight and be the leader the army needs? The list goes on. Her mind refused to be silent as each question bounced back and forth.
Trying to refocus, the young woman paid attention to her teacher once more. “Master, how are you so calm?” Issa questioned, hoping to find comfort in Master Plo’s inevitably wise words.
He turned to face her, a friendly softness around his eyes that always seemed to pull some of the weight off of her shoulders. “Because I trust in the Force, Issa. As do you. This new chapter may seem daunting and uncharted, but it is for the greater good of the galaxy, for the good of the Republic. I believe you are ready for this challenge. It will be difficult and there will be loss, but in the end, the light shall always prevail. Ensure you don’t forget that, even in the darkest of moments.” As expected, she hung off his every word. His conviction bathed her mind in a wave of calm and helped quell her spiralling nerves until they became nothing more than whispers.
“I’ll try my best to remember that,” Issa replied with a smile which finally reached her dark eyes. Plo Koon nodded, a fond look overcoming his face as she put on a determined front. Compared to other humanoid species, Kel Dors lacked the usual facial tics hinting towards what emotions they were feeling. It’d taken years of spending time with her Master, but Issa now prided herself on being able to read the minute changes in his expression behind his mask.
With a slight jolt, the transport finally came to a halt. They could already hear the hustle and bustle of the ship yard: identical voices barking orders, people dashing about, drills and hydraulics hard at work. It was time. Issa pushed the goggles on her face higher up her nose out of habit and a need to do something with her hands. Her nerves settled into the pit of her stomach once more.
“Ready, Commander?” Plo asked, his equivalent of a slight smirk evident behind his mask.
The Pantoran smiled back at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “About as ready as I’ll ever be, General”.
As they exited the shuttle, they were immediately hit with the notorious Coruscant smog. The humid and stifling air was made worse by the fumes being pumped out from the lower levels, so thick you could practically chew it. Coruscant had been Issa’s home for practically her whole life and she adored it, but the tangible atmosphere was one thing she always wished could be changed.
“Master Plo, Padawan Straun it’s good to see you both,” a voice sounded from behind them. They turned, coming face to face with Master Shaak Ti, looking as poised and elegant as ever as she made her way towards them. Her hands were clasped under the long sleeves of her cloak as she strode forwards. “Are you ready to meet your men? I must say, from my brief interactions with them so far, I believe the 104th are some of the finest soldiers the GAR have to offer. You’ve been dealt a good hand.”
“We’re pleased to hear that,” Plo replied as the pair fell in step with the Togruta. The two Masters chatted while Issa took in her surroundings with unreserved awe. The shipyard was an explosion of noise; there was always something being hammered or drilled. Amongst the racket, the smell of oil and fuel hung thick in the air, making her smile. The scent reminded her of fond times with her Master in the Temple’s shuttle bay as he taught her the ins and outs of spacecraft maintenance on his ship ‘The Blade of Dorin’. The name always did make her chuckle.
Her warm thoughts were interrupted when Master Ti asked her a question, shocking her back to the present. “Issa, how are you keeping? Are you looking forward to your new assignment?”
“I’m well Master, thank you. As for the war, I’m… ” Issa pondered what phrase would effectively communicate her current emotions, “athirst… for what may come. Wars like what we are gearing up for are things I've only read about in legend. But I am content in our decision to protect and fight for the Republic.”
“I understand your apprehension. The weight of war is a heavy one.” Issa nodded at the wise woman’s words and the trio fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. That was until Issa felt the mood shift around them in the Force, a wave of mischief passing over her from the Togruta to her left. “To prepare you for what’s to come, if you would ever like to hear a first person account from the wars of the Old Republic, I'm sure your Master would be happy to oblige.” Issa couldn’t stop herself before a bark of laughter escaped her at Shaak Ti’s deadpan jab at her Master’s age, the woman’s face remained serious until her eyes met Plo’s mask and a small smirk graced her lips.
“I see your sense of humour is as sharp as ever, Master Ti.” Plo replied with a chuckle, before grumbling under his breath. “You’ve been spending far too much time with Kit.” As their humour subsided, the Togruta continued to lead them to their meeting point.
—----------
A small transport ship lowered to reach the three of them, a gust of wind from the descent making their Jedi robes dance behind them. The bland shuttle landed with a muted clang before the doors whooshed open to reveal a Kaminoan and clone trooper.
The Kaminoan moved in almost slow motion, a strange sort of grace in the way her long limbs glided, carrying her off the transport with the clone in tow. “Welcome Jedi Master Plo Koon and Padawan Issa Straun. I am Taun We, aide to our prime minister Lama Su, and overseer of the Jedi’s cloning contract. We will be leaving the 104th battalion in your capable hands.” Taun We then moved to guide the clone forward to greet the Jedi personally. “This is CC-3636. As a Clone Commander, along with having some enhanced features in his DNA, he has undertaken extra training beyond a standard Clone Trooper, including our specialist ARC programme. His record is exemplary, and he will be a fine asset in leading your battalion.”
The soldier who stood before them wasn’t in the standard white plastoid Issa had witnessed on Geonosis. Instead he had maroon paint adorning his armour and the pattern of a wolf covered the sharp edges of his helmet. Someone's an animal fan. The patterns and colour continued down the rest of his armour, and it was all finished off with a black kama, the edges piped in a matching red-brown shade.
The commander removed his helmet before speaking, allowing the Jedi the chance to see him for the first time. Issa took the opportunity to study the man before her. Visually, he seemed to look like almost all the clone troopers she’d come across before, with his identical features and what seemed to be a regulation haircut. His presence however held something unique. His face was very no nonsense. Despite barely being a decade old, it seemed he’d furrowed his brows to the point where even if he relaxed them, two lines would forever be present between his eyes. The man’s frame was also slightly broader than the average clone, making his military stance all the more imposing.
“General Plo, Commander Straun.” The clone nodded at them each in turn as a greeting. Issa was impressed by his greeting. He’d noted how Kel Dors were to be addressed by their first name. He brushed up on his homework.
It would seem given his rank, Issa and the clone commander would be working quite closely together. The thought made Issa’s stomach do another nervous flip. CC-3636 radiated this serious and gruff attitude which contradicted everything about Issa’s own positive and excitable nature; she prayed to the Maker that they didn’t clash too badly.
“General Ti, it’s good to see you again,” the clone offered politely, pulling Issa out of her thoughts.
“Likewise Commander. I like the new look. I take it the ARC’s rubbed off on you and your brothers after all.” The Togruta smiled warmly at him, and CC-3636 changed slightly before Issa’s eyes. The coarseness surrounding him softened ever so slightly at his familiarity with Shaak Ti. With a tiny smirk of knowing, he nodded an affirmative at the woman before she continued. “I was just filling Master Plo and Issa in on how fortunate they are in being assigned your battalion.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir.”
The pleasantries were interrupted by Taun We. “Master Ti, as much as I regret bringing this introduction to an end, we must continue on if we are to introduce the next battalion to the arriving Jedi.” She announced before turning to stride back towards the transport she’d only just exited from.
“Yes of course.” The Togruta turned to face the remaining people on the platform to bid them a farewell. “Master Plo, Issa, Commander, I wish you all the best. May the Force be with you.”
—
The Venator Class Star Destroyers were incredible, their size dwarfed the countless gunships housed in it’s bays, as well as casting a large portion of the humongous landing deck they were on into shadow.
The group strode up the large ramp, the commander in front as he led them onto their vessel. The sight which awaited them was something Issa probably couldn’t have prepared for. A sea of white armour which seemed to go on for miles stretched out before them as they approached. The troopers’ shiny plastoid was a stark contrast to the metallic walls that surrounded them.
The commander moved from their side and towards the ocean of soldiers. “ATTENTION!” At his order, every single one of the troopers stomped their feet together and raised a hand to their helmet in salute. The noise was thunderous, practically shaking the durasteel they stood on. CC-3636 turned back to face them, his chest puffed out with pride. “General, Commander, the 104th welcomes you to the Triumphant.” Issa tried to keep her cool, but she couldn’t help it as she gawked at the sheer number of soldiers before her. There were easily hundreds of them, all neatly stood in rows upon rows, making perfect rectangles. These were the men that would blindly follow her into battle, who would follow her orders and trust her without question. She couldn’t help it as a shiver ran up her spine at the thought of such responsibility.
With a raised hand, Master Plo stepped forward to address their men. “At ease.” His baritone resonated across the platform, the acoustics of the space replacing the need for a microphone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am General Plo Koon and this is my Padawan and Commander, Issa Straun.” He paused for a moment, allowing Issa to provide a small nod in way of greeting to the troops. In unison, the clones shouted a chorus of “SIRS!” and moved their hands back to their sides.
And so the fun begins, Issa thought.
—
With all the soldiers and gear loaded, Issa and Plo were led on a tour of the ship by CC-3636. He walked with perfect posture in front of them both, pointing out key areas of their new home as they passed them.
The trio finally reached the bridge. As soon as they set foot into the room, all the personnel milling about immediately shot out of their seats and into salute. “General and commanders on deck!”
“At ease,” the Clone Commander announced. Around them, the clones quietly continued on with their previous tasks as if nothing happened. This is going to take some getting used to.
One of the men on deck walked up to the trio, clad in his grey Republic naval uniform. “General Plo, Commander Straun,” the new clone greeted them politely, a slight starstruck look in his eyes. He spent a second too long looking at the two Jedi before CC-3636 cleared his throat with an unimpressed look, shocking the poor trooper back into a military stance. “Uh, sorry Commander Wolffe, I’m just here to report that all the cargo has been loaded and stored as requested.” At the mention of his apparent name, the commander’s eyes widened a tiny bit. Issa dared say he looked uncomfortable, which caused her brow to furrow. Why wouldn’t he want us to hear his name?
“Very good, trooper. Report back to your station.”
After the shiny clone disappeared, Master Plo spoke up, a slight tint of concern around his eyes at what was a clear oversight on both the Jedi’s parts. “Our sincerest apologies Commander, we weren’t aware some of you had chosen names for yourselves. How would you prefer that we address you? We’d be happy to use names over your designations should you request so.” Plo offered with a kind look.
CC-36- no Wolffe, on the other hand, looked unsure as his gaze flitted between the two Jedi. “Ah, that’s really up to you, General.”
Issa stepped forward and smiled at the gruff soldier. “Well Commander, we’d like to know what you’d prefer, honestly.”
The man studied the two for a moment longer before sighing. “My name would be good, sir. It’s more efficient to use in battle than our designations I suppose.”
“Then it’s settled,” Plo declared with a slight clap of his hands. “If possible, could you please find someone to gather a list of each clone’s name and designation so that we are better able to address the men?”
Wolffe looked slightly taken aback at his request. He quickly tried to school his features back into neutrality but Issa noticed the tiny upturn on one side of his mouth. “Of course, sir.” The clone turned on his heel to pass on the request to the relevant person, leaving the Kel Dor and Pantoran standing at the heart of their new bridge. Master Plo gave her a proud look and she smiled back at him, chuffed that they’d started off on the right foot with their commander.
----
It had been a rather long and surreal morning getting settled on the Triumphant. After Wolffe concluded the tour of the ship, the three of them had begun on their more senior responsibilities, which involved being holed up in a meeting room with Plo and Wolffe for hours on end, and while she loved her Master, this entire military thing had gone from zero to a hundred very quickly, and the young Jedi could really do with catching her breath for a few moments. Thankfully, her stomach rumbled at an opportune time, causing Plo to dismiss them both to get themselves fed before they continued their planning session.
Wolffe offered to show her to the mess hall but she politely excused herself so that she could pass by the refresher first, needing a moment to herself.
Once the durasteel door hissed shut behind her, she leaned over the sink and met her own gaze in the mirror. Issa’s navy and burgundy robes were askew on her shoulders, making her frown. The traditional clothing for Jedi had its place for many reasons, but oh how she missed her own clothes. The robes were heavy and loose, sitting draped over her thin frame, nearly drowning her figure. Guess we’re not known for being style icons, but still. She always felt like a youngling in her robes, almost as if she’d never grow into them despite being fully grown for a Pantoran, and above average height at that. Her delicate hands pulled at the neckline and readjusted her belt until she was happy that everything was back in place where it should be. The long, double-ended hilt of her lightsaber caught the light as she fidgeted, making her pause. She smoothed a hand over the engraved metal, attempting to draw some emotional strength from her weapon as the kyber crystal buzzed slightly beneath her fingertips.
Now somewhat pleased with her outfit, Issa began to give the rest of herself a quick once over. Her silver hair was scruffy from where she’d been running her hand through it. That, on top of the baggy robes, was not quite the look of professional Commander she was going for. Sighing, she lifted her goggles off her head and placed them on the side so that she could undo the bun atop her head. A groan of relief escaped her as the icy strands fell from their tight style. After messing about with it, she threw half her hair back up and left half down, her Padawan braid extending beyond her shoulder length cut. Finally content with her hair, she moved to rub at the indigo indents around her eyes. Despite not being able to see her own reflection without her eyewear, she knew from years of wearing goggles that the marks were present. As she relaxed her face, her mind began to wander back to the new weight that sat on her shoulders. Commander of a battalion. Issa was curious to know if she’d ever get used to the thought of such responsibility.
Before she could get herself worked up again, she turned on the tap and splashed some cold water on her face, jarring her back into the present moment. She dried her features and pulled her goggles back on, feeling like her whole self once again as the world around her came back into focus. Issa met her own gaze in the mirror once more. “Stop stressing, Straun. You’ve got this,” she instructed her reflection with a new determination. She could do this. She just needed to go out there and be the Commander that she wanted to be. The rest would fall into place she was sure. With a quick nod to herself, Issa mustered up all the confidence she could and exited the refresher, ready to continue on her personal mission.
——
Loud chatter bounced back and forth within the mess hall walls, all the identical voices combining into an almost white noise as Issa selected her lunch from the datapad in front of her.
The Jedi grabbed her tray and studied the room around her. She was greeted with a sea of white armour and grey naval uniforms. Her heart rate picked up as nerves began to roll through her mind. She was very much the odd one out here.
Closing her dark eyes, she took a deep and steadying breath. I came in here to get to know the battalion better, so that’s exactly what I’ll do. Issa rolled her shoulders back and began to hunt for a free seat with determination.
After a bit of wandering and feeling a few stares on her back, she finally clocked an empty space.
She plonked herself down with a shy smile and a hello to the troopers around her. All the men at the table had stopped eating and instead taken to staring at her like she’d grown two heads. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Despite her confidence in herself as a Jedi, Issa couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward under the gaze of all these soldiers. She went to push her goggles up the bridge of her nose before scratching the back of her neck. “Sorry, I can go,” she muttered as she went to grab her tray and stand up again, embarrassment tinting her cheeks a pale lilac.
A quick chorus of “no no no,” rang out, and she paused half raised off her seat. A trooper with silver hair cleared his throat. “Sorry, Commander. Please sit down.” He looked at his brothers who’d taken to playing with the food on their trays. “We just weren’t expecting you to sit with us is all. But we definitely don’t mind.” His tone was sincere and he flashed a toothy smile which eased Issa’s worries. As her embarrassment faded, she sat herself back down next to the men. “So what brings you to the mess hall, sir? Other than the obvious.”
“I wanted to meet the people I’d be fighting alongside,” she said simply, tucking into her serving of pale soup. The steam from her meal caught on her goggles and fogged them up ever so slightly.
One of the others spoke up, a trooper that looked the most unique out of them all. His hair was shaved except for two stripes which ran down the centre of his head. The left side of his face from his jaw upwards was decorated in silvery scar lines, creating a delicate and intricate pattern across his skin. “But you’re a Jedi, sir. You know you don’t have to sit with a bunch of clones right?”
“Does Commander Wolffe sit with you?” At her question, the men turned to look at the clone sat at the end who she now recognised. “Ah, sorry Wolffe. Didn’t see you there.” He waved her off as he continued shovelling food into his mouth and reading his datapad. “Anyway, my point is while we may look different, we’re one battalion. I’m nothing special. I eat, sleep and breathe the same as you. I thought this might be as good a place as any to get started in getting to know one another.”
“That’s uh, nice of you sir,” the silver haired clone replied.
“You can all call me Issa while we’re having downtime if you like. I'm not quite used to the formalities just yet.” They all turned again to look at Wolffe, almost asking his permission. He shrugged as if to say they can do what they want and a few troopers at the table smiled. “Well since we’ll be using names, would you gentlemen mind telling me yours?” Issa asked.
“I’m Sinker,” the man with the silver hair stated. “That one with the dodgy hair is Boost, self proclaimed comedic genius and all round di’kut.”
“You love me really,” Boost tutted back.
“Huh, maybe you are funny actually.” Boost pouted at Sinker’s sarcasm, making Issa chuckle. Sinker next pointed to the clone whose head was buried in a datapad. The distracted man seemed to be of a slighter frame compared to the men around him. He also sported copper hair shaved short on the sides, the curls from his fringe falling into his eyes as he looked up at her. “The nerd there is Book. Kid is obsessed with learning new stuff, but he’s killer at strategising.”
The next clone had longer and messier hair which fell into soft waves framing his face and he gave her a friendly smile as Sinker continued. “This is Cloud. Not got much awareness of what’s going on around him most of the time, but he’s one of the best snipers and slicers in the GAR.” Finally he turned his gaze towards the last clone at the table. His hair was shaved off and an intricate tattoo of a Vexis sat atop his head, giving the clone a rather imposing aura. “Oh and the short one down the end opposite Wolffe is Two-Pint. In love with heavy class weapons and despite the name, can drink the entire battalion under the table.”
“It’s nice to meet you all. You clones really do have some wonderfully unique names,” Issa acknowledged.
Boost piped up with a smirk. “Well when you’ve got a million other people to compete with, you end up scrambling for options.” They continued to tuck into their food as they chatted, any awkward tension that remained from when Issa first sat down quickly dispersing, which warmed her insides far more than the soup ever could.
“Sir- I mean Issa-” Book paused, and the Jedi nodded approvingly, urging him to continue. “You’re Pantoran, correct?”
“I am.”
“I understand that Pantorans tattoo their faces with gold markings to communicate things such as family relations, wealth, social status etcetera. Might I ask what yours mean?”
“Isn’t that a little personal to ask someone, Book?” Two-Pint scolded around a mouthful of bread, sendings small crumbs flying towards Wolffe who somehow managed to frown harder at the heavy gunner.
“No it’s fine, I can understand his curiosity.” Issa smiled at the excitable clone who beamed back at her. “You’re right, Pantorans do mark their faces for those reasons, but given that I don’t really know my biological family and I don’t have many personal belongings, my markings are ones which show me being part of the Jedi Order. I’m not the first Pantoran, so my predecessors came up with a variety of meanings and designs for Pantoran Jedi to choose from. We go through a few milestones in our lives as Pantorans which grant us the honour of getting markings. Culturally, Pantoran Jedi are supposed to undertake their trials before the age of 25, within the next two years I should have most of my markings. As for the ones I have now,” she traced the two straight golden lines running vertically from her hairline to the start of her silver eyebrows, “these two represent life and the Force.” Her fingers then moved to the single line running from her bottom lip straight down her chin. “And this one symbolises the two coming together. For even in death, there is always the Force.”
Book looked enthralled as he typed away at his datapad, abandoning his lunch in favour of documenting Issa’s every word. “That’s fascinating, thank you.”
“No problem.” Issa nodded at him and a warmth spread through her chest as she watched Book’s fingers fly across his device. She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected when going to meet the clones, but something about Book’s excitement for life and information surprised her. “While we’re on the topic of physical features, can I ask you a question, Boost?” Issa looked over at the man, who nodded as he shovelled more food into his mouth. “Your hair is pretty different compared to everyone else’s. I was wondering if there was a particular reason behind it.” She saw his cheeky demeanour immediately change at her question, shifting to one of longing and remembrance.
“I, uh…” He cleared his throat and Issa cursed herself for asking him to relive a clearly painful memory. “The style’s called ‘the double stripe’. It’s to honour my batchmates, the squad I went through cadet training with. They all died on Geonosis.” His face was sombre as he remembered each of his closest brothers. Beside him, Sinker placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, which the other man leaned into gratefully.
“I’m so sorry, Boost.”
“Ah, don’t be. They went out like heroes, which is all any of us can really ask.” He gave her a sad smile before clapping his hands together and rebuilding his mischievous persona. “Anyways, enough doom and gloom. Let’s find out more about you, Commander. What’s with the goggles?”
Issa chuckled as Boost formed two circles with his fingers and put them around his eyes to mimic her eyewear. “Nothing fancy, I just can’t see very well.” She shrugged and the men all looked at each other.
“So you’re telling us that the almighty powerful Jedi we’ve been hearing about for ten years, can have crap eyesight?”
“I’m only Pantoran, I’m not a god.”
“You’re really ruining this for us sir. I hope you know that,” Sinker explained with a sigh.
“Well I can still fight blind don’t worry. Though if Master Plo loses that mask, he can’t breathe. I’ve always carried a spare around with me just in case.” Issa rolled her eyes with fondness, while the clones just stared blankly at her as she joked.
Wolffe looked dumbfounded as he spoke up for the first time. “So between the two of you, we haven’t got one fully functioning Jedi?” Issa quickly felt the weight of the table’s gaze which made her squirm with awkwardness. Just had to stick my foot in it, didn’t I?
“I suppose not. But I’ve never seen Plo lose his mask, and I always carry spare goggles on missions, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“No offence, sir, but that doesn’t fill me with much confidence.” Without another word, Commander Wolffe grabbed his tray with an unimpressed look and left the group, his sass having cut Issa, leaving her mouth hanging slightly agape as he exited the mess.
———
Wolffe entered his new quarters as the day drew to a close. His boots clanged against the durasteel flooring as he dropped down onto his firm bunk. His room was small, more akin to a closet, but it was neat and it was private, and privacy was something he never expected to have in his life. It was a blessing and a curse to have some space to himself. On the one hand he much preferred his own time and quiet, never one for much socialising, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t miss the small sounds of his brothers just living around him: the snores, the laughter and the chatter. It was all he’d known for his entire life. It’ll take some getting used to.
The soldier took a moment to reflect on what would be the first day of the rest of his life. He’d finally been assigned his Jedi, and should he do his job right, they’d be the people he’d spend the war fighting alongside. General Plo Koon was one of the few Jedi he remembered from Geonosis, he didn’t fight alongside him directly, but a six foot Kel Dor on a battlefield stood out amongst the more common species within the Jedi Order. The general was mostly what he expected of a Jedi; reserved, wise and welcoming. He couldn’t put his finger on it but there was just something about the Kel Dor that put him at ease, as if a sense of knowing told him that his general would be someone he’d proudly fight alongside. Then there was the padawan, Straun. He found it interesting that while the young woman had been under the mentorship of the general for what must be years now, they were remarkably different people. She was clearly inexperienced, and cared far too much about what the men thought of her as a leader. She was quick to talk, which was a trait he didn’t favour in others usually, but she seemed to be trying at least. Wolffe supposed that her efforts were better than a removed leader who didn’t value the lives of his brothers. As commanders though, the two of them were very different, and it unnerved him that he wouldn’t really know her abilities as a leader until they were thrown into battle.
As he let out a long exhale, Wolffe’s gloved fingers unclipped his helmet from his belt and held it in his lap, the black visor staring back at him as he took in every sharp edge and line of paint across his bucket. The commander took a moment to think back on the battle of Geonosis. Those few months ago, he’d worn white plastoid armour, with only pips and yellow paint to signify his rank. Following the start of the war, the Alphas back on Kamino had taken Wolffe’s batch in and commended them on their efforts on the desert planet, for leading their brothers to their purpose to fight alongside the Jedi and defending the Republic. They’d taken them on for the new ARC training programme as an experiment and pushed them to their limits with a gruelling training regiment. There were points where Wolffe wondered if they’d make it, but in the end, all five of them survived and became the first ARC Commanders. A small smile made its way onto Wolffe’s face at the memory.
The five commanders stood in parade rest, Alpha-17 strolling in front of them, appraising his graduating students. Wolffe supposed they did look different from where they started. While the new training routine had brought out different strengths in all of them, they’d all gained more muscle mass and no longer looked as lean as the standard troopers.
“I’m pleased to announce you’ve all passed ARC training. You five are our first of many ARC Commanders. Congratulations.” 17’s face remained neutral, but underneath all the bravado, they all noticed the pride, burning like a roaring flame within him.
Wolffe held his own passive military expression, but chanced a glance at Fox next to him just as his ori’vod did the same to him. Their eyes met and the corners of their lips twitched ever so slightly. “We’ve actually done it.” the words were barely above a whisper as they fell from his lips.
The commander was brought out of his memories when his datapad began chiming next to him, the screen lighting up and pulling his attention to it.
-Command Chat Active-
Cody: so… everyone met their Jedi then?
Bly: yep
Wolffe: mhmm
Ponds: yeah!
Fox: funnily enough no I haven’t.
Cody: sarcasm just because you’re jealous Fox? It’s not a good look on you
Fox: mir’sheb
Cody: Love you too, foxy. Anyway, thoughts?
Ponds: Master Windu is awesome.
Cody: Bly, Wolffe?
Bly: … The General seems nice enough
Fox: But?
Bly: But what?
Ponds: you’re being suspenseful again Bly, just spit it out vod
Bly: Okay. But this goes nowhere as I’m trying to be a good Commander and all
Bly: but… WHY DOES MY GENERAL REFUSE TO WEAR ARMOUR. I’M GONNA GET RECONDITIONED WHEN SHE INEVITABLY GETS SHOT :’(
Fox: Well, seems this Jedi business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
Wolffe: You want to talk about armour?! How about both my Jedi having major physical impairments?! One can’t breathe in most atmospheres and the other can’t kriffing see! They’re walking target practice for the clankers.
Cody: at least you haven’t got to deal with the Padawan from hell
Bly: don’t act like you’ll actually deal with him. We all know you’re gonna put that on Rex.
Cody: it’s called delegating, it’s what good commanders do ori’vod
Cody: at least General Kenobi seems sane enough.
Wolffe: I dunno, didn’t he teach the special one? His recklessness has to stem from someone
Ponds: *the chosen one
Wolffe: dork
Cody: … you make an excellent point
Fox: about the general or Ponds?
Cody: both
Ponds: :(
Cody: General Kenobi is going to turn out crazy isn’t he?
Ponds: they’re not called the disaster lineage for nothing
Cody: THEY’RE CALLED THE WHAT?!
Ponds: hmm maybe I shouldn’t have shared that
Bly: *gasp* Is General Windu a gossip?!
Ponds: I can neither confirm nor deny
Fox: Ponds got the best General. The rest of you are probably going to die. It was nice knowing you.
Cody: I’d tell him to Kriff off but he’s probably right
Wolffe: eh I’ll do it anyway. Kriff off shabuir
Fox: bite me ad’ika <3
—-Fox renamed the chat to CC’s Anonymous—-
Ponds: Seems appropriate
Back to TJ's Masterlist
#IT'S OUT IN THE WORLD!#BEHOLD MY CHILD OF A FIC!#I am SO excited to finally start posting this!#any reblogs are super appreciated!#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#commander wolffe#cc 3636#commander wolffe x ofc#commander wolffe x oc#commander wolffe x issa straun#plo koon#master plo koon#104th battalion#wolfpack#wolffe#wolffe x oc#wolffe x ofc#OC Issa Straun#oc clone troopers#OC Book#OC Two-Pint#OC Cloud#clone trooper oc#star wars fanfic#star wars fic#clone wars#clone wars fic#swtcw
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I FINISHED IT
For the record, the draft of Seize the Light was finished on Wednesday, 16th March 2022. I started writing it as my main writing project in June 2021.
Current Stats
Word Count: just under 245,000 words.**
Chapters: Fifty chapters.
Chapter length: 5,000 words per chapter on average, with some outliers.
I’m expecting the word count and chapter length to fluctuate a bit as myself and the beta team make edits over the next couple of months. Though I hope the chapter count stays the same!
Upcoming dates
April 18th, 2022: Opening crawl and some concept art released.
May 4th, 2022: First two chapters released with more concept art.
June 15th, 2022: Weekly posting schedule begins for the remaining chapters, along with (hopefully) the soundtrack.
Episode VIII: Seize the Light is coming soon to a web browser near you. In the meantime, why not refresh your memory of my TFA Tweaks and subscribe to the series, if you haven’t already? And feel free to spread the word.
In the meantime, here is some very basic concept art. The Aurabesh words at the top do, of course, say, “Episode VIII: Seize the Light”.
(Image description: a brown hand holding a green kyber crystal, and two lightsabers - one silver with blue blade, the other black with red blade and has a cross-guard - on a beige background. Above them are stylised black letters in “Aurek-Besh” font.)
@twackycat @tathrin @iwillpunchyouinthenose @corellianhounds @bethagain @starlight-science-soar @asiminthering @casualoddities @kermoodle @coffeequill @colorofitall @fanfoolishness
#storyteller's sequel trilogy#sequel trilogy rewrite#sequel trilogy#episode viii: seize the light#the novelisation not the screenplay#<-- it's a long one so we have that tag#after Episode IX is also written i'll write Episode VIII's abridged form
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Role Swap!AU where the Holts are Altean and advisors to the royal family. When the boys find Allura, it’s Pidge that comes out with her. Most of the Earth events are the same, but Pidge & Allura are distressed because they know what happened to their parents but not Coran & Matt. It’s like they just disappeared. Record showed they were put in sleep pods too but they aren’t there.
Sam Holt was the Yellow Lion’s pilot and was killed with the other Paladins. Allura is a dedicated leader and believes she can best serve the team by piloting the castle ship. Pidge is reluctant, because of her dad’s death, but she pilots the green lion. She still goes with Shiro to get it, and the team still thinks she’s a boy. But Alteans don’t care much about gender roles, so she never really thinks to correct them.
Meanwhile, Haggar is a lot more fierce in this universe. The Galra are more ferocious and have a violent mastermind as their tactician. The team dubs him “The Chessmaster.” Overall, there’s a lot more “running and trying to establish base but constantly being hunted down” then in the main universe, because of how cunning the Chessmaster is. There’s also a mysterious figure usually in the shadows whenever Haggar is around. Shiro has memories of him but his PTSD makes it hard to recall anything useful.
Because of this, it takes longer for Shiro to get his bayard and the team to incapacitate Zarkon. It still happens, but because Pidge is an Altean pilot, she figures out the Shiro clone situation much, much sooner and Allura is able to remedy things. Also, Haggar is asked by the Galra generals if Prince Lotor should be summoned. Haggar scoffs and says that Honerva’s son is useless, but her son will be able to lead them to victory. The shadow figure steps forward and kneels, stating that he’s ready to do as his mother requires.
This universe is darker and team Voltron struggles a lot with gaining their footing. The Chessmaster spreads anti-Voltron propaganda that actually works, and the team has a hard time getting alien societies to trust them. It’s made worse by the fact that anti-Altean messages have been reinforced since Altea was destroyed, so the team tries to hide the fact that one of their pilots is Altean and not human. It’s difficult enough getting people to listen to Allura, their non-pilot Altean leader.
Lotor actually joins up with Voltron in this universe. Because of “Haggar’s Son,” he was pretty much completely cast aside by Zarkon at a young age. He had a nanny but was never given any real power and mostly grew up isolated and alone. When he became an adult, he tried to further his mother’s research in power sources, and he got trapped in the belly of a Weblum for thousands of years until Keith saved him. So basically, he has emotional baggage but he’s not crazy like his main universe counterpart.
Things go a bit better with Lotor on their side, but the sucker punch really comes when Allura and Pidge find out who the new prince and the Chessmaster are. Back when Altea was destroyed, Matt and Coran were put in the sleep pods. But they set the timers to last only a few minutes. They then snuck out, against Alfor’s orders, in a last ditch attempt to sabotage the Galra fleet and save everyone. But Haggar caught them.
Seeing Matt, a talented young man with so much potential who felt very familiar to her warped mind, she decided to take him as her son. This, of course, meant he needed many....modifications. Revisions to both his mental state and his body. It was similar with Coran, whom she had once loved like a brother. He became her Chessmaster. Their fates were worse than death, and discovering the truth crushes Allura and Pidge.
(Inspo partially from @adreamsart who told me an AU where Haggar makes Matt her evil henchman, and art by @besh-drawing-stuff for a role swap AU where the holts replaced the Alteans)
#altean!pidge#altean!holts#altean!matt#holt siblings#pidge#allura’s advisor pidge!au#kat’s aus#my aus#vld#voltron#katie holt#pidge gunderson#dark!au#angst#dark!coran#dark!matt#torture#brainwashing
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May 29, 2020
Around 9:30am, biglang nag-invite para sa meeting ng team. Earlier than nung na-set na schedule. It was not the standard meeting. Kamustahan lang. Nasabihan na to prepare our selves sa mga susunod na mangyayari. Round the table. Say what you want to say. Pero wala ako masabi. Nauna iyak ko. Ineexpect ko na eh.
Around 10:15am, nagmessage sa akin yung manager namin. Important matter. Alam ko na. Di naman nagmemessage sa amin yun. Naiyak na talaga ako.
Through Skype call kasama ang PRD (HR). Grabe iyak ko, wala pa sinasabi. "Are you ok?" Besh, umiiyak ako, malamang di ok. Then inexplain sa akin yung situation at bakit kinakailangan. Kasama ako sa malalay off na employee. Last in, first out basis. Naiintindihan ko at ineexpect ko naman kako. One year and 3 months pa lang ako. Malas nga naman. 😔
That same time, sinabi ko agad sa family ko. May ilang kaibigan din na nakakaalam. 😭
Inexplain sa akin yung termination contract. Mga matatanggap ko. Effective ng araw na yun mismo. Naka work from home pa ako. May personal na gamit pa ako sa office. Natatawa talaga ako kasi ito na, wala na akong trabaho. Pero inisip ko yung activities and action items na naka assign sa akin. Pano ko ieendorse? 🤣 Earned praise tuloy mula kay manager. Second job ko ito. Gaya sa nauna kong work, ayoko ng iniiwan yung trabaho ko na ganun na lang. Gusto ko maayos pa rin.
So ayun. Inayos ko lahat ng files ko, mga kailangan gawin. Nagpaalam at nagpasalamat sa team. Got some personal messages from them. Somehow, nakagaan ng loob.
3pm. Tapos.
___________
Ang sakit mawalan ng trabaho dahil sa impact ng Covid-19 sa aircraft industry. ☹️ For the past few months, nakadepend ang pamilya ko sa akin — ako lang may trabaho. Ngayon, nawala pa. 😔 Job security. Yan inaassure sa akin nung una dahil sa mga projects namin. Sa kasaamaang palad, Last In First Out. (May work naman na si mother this June, kaso magtatanggal na rin ng employees ang school. What more if kaunti talaga ang students na mag eenroll ngayon.)
Mabigat at masakit sa kalooban. Still grateful. Di naman sila nagkulang.
Compensation and benefits wise - masayang masaya ako.
Magandang working environment - matiyaga sa pagturo at pagguide sa akin ng mga katrabaho ko, para ko silang magulang (them being same age as my parents haha).
Di rin sila nagkulang sa panahon ng pandemya - WFH schedule, care packs during Enhanced Community Quarantine, provided ang shuttle service, masks, alcohol, etc.
Grabe lang talaga impact ng pandemic sa aircraft and commercial airline industry.
Minalas lang talaga. Sabi nga sa nabasa ko... 2020 is a leap year. That leap right into some bullshit.
Tough times, tough shit. I'm built for this. 💪
Maraming maraming salamat sa pamilya at mga kaibigang nagcocomfort sa akin.
May 30, 2020.
Nagising ako ng 4:30 am. Walang alarm clock na gumising. Inisip ko, ganitong oras naliligo na ako, nagpreprepare pumunta ng work; 5:30am, lakad na papuntang pick up point ng shuttle. 6:20am, nasa work na, ako pinakamaaga.
Pero sa isip ko na lang yan.
Gumising lang ako.
Nalungkot. Naglaba. At natulog muli. 🤣🤣🤣
Nya ngay garod. 😔😔😔
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#CulionPromoDay December 12, 2019: Six (6) Promos today and 4 of that involves @missizacalzado 💚 Our last leg is a shoot with Team @starstudioph 💜 Kakapack up lang! Kalokaa! Lagaree! Besh, thank you!! Labaaan!! @culionfilm @mmffofficial #culionmmff2019 #culionmovie #mmff2019 #breakthestigma #alvinyapanfilm #teammsb #rickylee https://www.instagram.com/p/B5-ukHOhf3Y/?igshid=867gcynwzs7r
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Little sonic AU I thought up...
When GUN shot Maria at the ark, they took her with them back to earth to receive medical attention BeShe did, and they kept her prisoner on one of the gun bases. During sonic forces, that base gets destroyed and is covered with overgrowing wildlife. The gun members flee, and because Maria hid, they didn’t take her with them. She survived yet again and now lives in the overgrowing base with her new regal look. She carries around old gun weapons to defend herself with and cares for the lovely plants that grows within the base. The entire base is like her big, unruly garden.
Bonus: Shortly after though, still during sonic forces, the plants start to die off due to the War. Maria, while trying to find out what’s going on with her garden, comes across Sonic and the two team up to save both her garden and the world.
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Know What You Signed Up For
Prompt: Written for Chocolate Box 2019
Pairing: Theron Shan/Female Smuggler
Rating: M
Tags: Trapped In Elevator, Elevator Sex, Post-Nathema, Angst
Read at [AO3]
"Wait! Hold the-"
A hand shoves its way through the disappearing crack in the elevator doors, followed by an arm and then by the wedging body of the woman Theron Shan simultaneously wants to see most and least in the entire galaxy. The Commander seems to feel the same, judging by the way her mouth forms and abandons options before settling on a terse, "Theron," and a fixed gaze on the opposite wall.
Well, at least they can share an elevator again. That's progress.
No eye contact. No small talk. There's a caf in her hand that someone else put there, and he knows that by now it's gone cold with exactly a quarter left in the bottom of the cup. Don't need a chrono when Cats is around, just read the rings inside the rim. Old mug, new mug; she gets through the day with the reflex of an open palm and a nod of thanks to the supplier.
Not him, anymore. A year ago it would have been, now he knows he'll be running into her refueling team on the other side of the elevator doors. Corso or Risha if they're on base. Lana if they aren't. Theron watched Gault do it once last week.
That one hurt a little, if he's being honest.
He did the right thing. Theron wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been sure and he's still sure of that. Cats must agree, on some level, because he spent enough time with her file before Korriban to know what happens when someone double-crosses her. She'd offered him the open palm, not the blaster to the nuts. Alliance pardon. His old quarters, even, not a demotion down to the barracks.
No eye contact, though. No inappropriate flirting during briefings. No even-more-inappropriate smacks on the ass after briefings. He hasn't tried bringing her caf in the morning but he doesn't need to try his access code to the Majestic Princess to know that it won't work anymore. Theron's got just enough of a routine reestablished now to see exactly how many holes she's left in it.
The elevator grinds to a halt and Cats nearly plows into the doors, too focused on escape to realize they've failed to open. She turns on him, eyes closed.
"You shouldn't have sliced the elevator."
He hadn't sliced the elevator. Not since he came back. Before, sure; even though it earned him an entirely deserved lecture about professionalism from Lana every time. She's absolutely right - it's bad optics for the Commander of the Eternal Alliance to have poorly-concealed public sex and it's inconvenient for everyone who's forced to take the emergency stairs while the elevator is out of commission.
(What Lana never seemed to consider in her arguments was that the Commander of the Eternal Alliance really, really liked getting off in places that were inconvenient for everyone. And that she had fantastic breasts. Theron was smart enough not to bring this particular counterargument to the table.)
Seeing as they're not even on "friendly smile in the hallway" terms right now, though, slicing the elevator for some unprofessional behavior with his ex hadn't been on the schedule for the day any more than sharing an elevator with her.
"Not me."
He jams the panel a few times, just to confirm that that definitely isn't going to do anything useful. Starts considering the interference of the shaft and various Alliance communications routing times - is he still in Lana's priority queue? Theron is busy calculating how likely it is that he can climb up the shaft without his infiltration kit, both with and without Cats, when he gets an override message. Loud and clear, from the woman herself, who is suddenly much closer than before and looking down at him with his own confusion.
"I want to kiss you," she murmurs, almost to herself. "Can I... is that...?"
Theron gets it. He really does. It was a question he asked on Nathema, on Copero, on Umbara. After every time they pass in the hallway, at every briefing and four hours after the doors of his empty quarters close behind him every night. Thing is, it isn't a question he's managed to tease out the answer to, and if she's asking, it's probably best just to put her tongue in his mouth.
Yeah, he thinks, as his lips tilt up to press against hers, probably for the best.
"You're an idiot," someone says, and he's not sure which of them says it or who it's for. Either of them. Both of them, probably, and he doesn't care because all he can taste is her. Every gray day lighting up, every lonely fantasy dissolving into the way she grinds against him.
She's right, or he's right. About anything. About everything. They are idiots and they are unprofessional and they are broken and they are wearing too many clothes. Her hands are already fumbling at his belt, the familiarity of years of their least appropriate hobby filling the gap sense leaves. That can't- well, if she gets those hands where she wants them this is going to be over too soon, and the last confused scraps of his mind he hasn't tasked to getting her out of her shirt kick in long enough to shift them to his shoulders.
"You first," he says, running his fingers under the shirt, over the soft skin of her stomach as it tightens in his wake. His lips find her jaw, her neck, kissing his way down as nervous hands fumble at each button and clasp.
She has fantastic breasts.
It's selfish but he takes a moment here. Rests his face between them to feel her heartbeat against the warmth of her skin, the softness in that gap, the way she smells of sweat and life and everything home. No regrets. If her heart is still beating, he did the right thing, no matter what it means for him now.
Cats squirms under his nose and he shifts a hand up to cup a breast before she gets impatient enough to move it there herself. Noses against her nipple playfully, because he knows it annoys her, but doesn't hesitate to draw it into his mouth. Sweat, salt, sweet as he circles his tongue. Slow, like he wants, like he's missed. She moans, bends, and he takes advantage of the moment to reverse their positions, press her up against the metal of the elevator wall. To gaze up at her, past the gentle swell of her breast, as she meets his eyes and her lips part invitingly once again.
"Theron," she says, and he groans appreciatively against her in response, sucking her deeper. "Theron."
This time her hands tug at his hair, insistent against his arousal. Blinking, he pulls back.
"They're going to repair the elevator." She drops each word slowly, like she's explaining a foreign concept. Of course they'll repair the elevator, three quarters of the base is underground. They'd never get anything done if they didn't.
"Okay."
"We need to be done before they finish."
Oh. Right.
His hands make quick work of his belt and even quicker work of hers; his lips placed just so in the crease of her hip elicits the same gasping laugh it always does. The kisses he plants along her inner thighs while he unlaces her boots are just as awkward but in only a moment they stand chest to chest, his erection brushing the loose ends of her shirt, her sex warm and slick as he cups it in his hand. Lets her grind against him, just how she likes, no rhythm but that rhythm that's just her.
"Please," she says, "Please, please. Please." She repeats it, eyes searching his, and he's idiot enough to hope that she's asking for everything he wants to give, not just this. Not just the smooth slide inside her, the way her hips tilt to meet his own. The way she moans when his hand moves between her thighs, right there, using everything he's ever learned about her to drive her desperately over the edge.
Her lips close around the skin at the base of his throat and pull. He wouldn't have left a mark on her now, wouldn't have dared, but she does and that's when he loses control. Stars. He comes apart.
No eye contact, no pillow talk. She turns away to tug her jacket back over her shoulders. His belt is straightened and every hair back in place when the doors give their warning creak.
One, two, three. Like clockwork, Lana's flat glare appearing between parted doors.
"And there they are," she says, motioning towards the nearby engineers. "No worse for wear. That's a Code Besh resolved."
"Good work, troops," Cats salutes with a wave of her caf. Another mug is presented and exchanged on the downswing. Looks like Risha's on rotation this morning, and she wrinkles her nose as Cats brushes by her on their way to the exit.
"Really?" Theron murmurs, as soon as Cats is out of earshot. "Non-Emergency Maintenance Code Besh? The elevator was actually broken, Lana, we could have been-"
"Don't play the fool, Theron, it doesn't suit you," she snaps. "Your algorithm hasn't changed. You didn't even bother to switch encryptions." Her glare softens, slightly, into something like a smile. "For what it's worth... I'm happy for you."
Theron woke up alone last month and last week and this morning and he hasn't understood a single thing that's happened in the past thirty minutes. Kriff it. With a chipper wave in Lana's direction, he heads to the cantina for lunch.
It's enough for now.
"What is this?" Risha gingerly fishes the sodden spike out of a mug of cold caf.
"Oh, is that where that was?" Cats is flippant, but her hand closes around it with a quickness that belies her tone. Crushes it with the very same quickness, and shoves the unrecognizable remains into a pocket.
"No idea. Must've found it somewhere."
#swtor#theron shan#female smuggler#commanderlurker#m rating#(how the hell do you tag these days)#bp: swtor#bp: theron shan#bp: fs
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Throwback Lang...
“Parang bumalik ulet yung dati” –those were McCoy’s exact words when Elisse returned in the Big Brother house to join the Dream Team. He said that because he was feeling shy again whenever the other housemates would tease them. PBB Vietnam 2.0!
McLisse is the universal ship this season. McCoy & Elisse were featured in every edition which made every housemate giggle, smile, sing along to O Pag-ibig and brought out their crazy fangirling/fanboying sides. We really thank Kuya for keeping up with our WE MISS MCLISSE IN PBB tweets. Everytime they would return, new chapters are being added up to their story. What’s interesting is that these chapters are not just good for just one reading or so. Strangely, some ganaps repeated itself in a really weird way. Weird, weird. As Jolina & Kyla’s Throwback Lang says “Parang umuulit lang ang kahapon…”
The live drama which was a first in the Philippine Television made us cringe. The Dream Team housemates really did well on that task but can we take time and appreciate how the writers manage to write the KimLec (Kim x Alec) story as if it was a tribute to McLisse’s journey inside the house?
Several scenes from the live drama also reminded us of how the teen housemates planned a secret dinner date for McLisse.
It’s crazy. Looking back, (August 2016) MayMay & Edward were just wishing for them to get together already. In fact, one of Edward’s goals inside the house seemed aligned with Aren’s. Haha. In “Titig ng Pag-ibig” it was Alec who requested for Ikay & Aren to help him about the date but whenever we recall how real life-Ikay, MayMay planned the McLisse dinner date after the Swerteen ball, we just couldn’t help but end all our PMSing. The date & the dance happened in real life, guys.
It was nice to reminisce the good old episodes/ganaps that kept us from having bathroom breaks and beg for more oxygen tanks.
Our hearts were pinched everytime Kim would throw a line that was quite similar to what we’ve heard from Elisse before. McCoy tore our hearts apart with his sad face—an exact reminiscence of what we’ve seen during his secret task with the ninja.
#PBBTuloyPaRin episode ended the way it should be. It shook us, but we didn’t sink. We’re meant to keep sailing.
Just like how Elisse finally felt free and relieved for getting a closure with her past, Kim decided to open up her heart to a new love, Alec.
Now to a sadder but hopeful part of the story….
Let’s travel back in time to August 2016 again. A week after the “Closure”, Kuya surprised us with a mass eviction. 2-in-1 housemates, Hashtags Nikko & McCoy got the highest number of text votes, making them part of the Lucky 2 Stars with Jinri. It was that night—that very night when almost everyone in this fanmily felt terribly sad of the idea that McCoy & Elisse had to be apart without having any serious conversation or more time to deal with their PMS. The Lucky 2 Stars still stayed for a day then eventually left MayMay in the house to start the transition to the teen edition.
Our McLisse story is not just an ordinary one. Maymay, the lucky teen housemate who was picked by our favorite celebrity housemates got the chance to meet Nikko, McCoy and Jinri during her first day in PBB. She had also put McCoy in the hotseat, asking him “Mahal mo na po?”
Nikko answered MayMay’s question in behalf of his ka-2in1. He said “Sobra, mahal na mahal. Eh natorpe…” The same person who said “Nakakainis kuya, ngayon lang niya lang nalaman yung halaga ng tao kung kelan wala na” (August 2016) blurted this line now...
6 months ago, Maymay was completely curious about McLisse’s real score, fast forward to February 26, 2017, she was now able to tell what’s really inside McCoy’s heart. “Miss na miss na niya yung pamilya niya tapos mawawala pa yung taong pinaka malapit sa puso niya dito sa bahay mo.”
Parang bumalik ulet yung dati. *echoing*
For the second time, Elisse had to leave without a proper goodbye. This time, there was no PMSing but the nomination and eviction happened on the same night. The housemates were all shocked of how the fast the things turned out and even the viewers, battled with nervousness and time pressure for Kuya only gave us 7 minutes to vote for Kisses, Yong, Cora and Elisse. Elisse had to say goodbye again, leaving the Hashtags as the last celebrity housemates standing in the competition.
How could moments rewrite themselves without further notice? They just came straight at our faces.
McCoy didn’t expect her to go. No matter how many times Elisse joked about leaving “Ba-bye!” or “Mauna ako mag-enrol sayo.” McCoy was not welcoming the idea that she would be the one to leave. It was harder for him this time because clearly, the months they spent outside the house last year and the time they spent inside the house as members of Dream Team made them bond even more.
“Di ko inexpect po yung nangyari talaga, nabigla po ako kasi akala ko di po siya yung lalabas po kuya. sobrang lungkot kuya kasi di kami nakapagpaalam ng maayos. Alam yun ni elisse, masaya ako kasi makikita mo na yung mommy mo si tita, sana mag-ingat ka diyan muna sa labas, wag ka sanang malungkot kung..sa resulta alam kong marami kami na naniniwala pa rin sayo kaya yun pasensya na rin kasi di ko nakapagpaalam ng maayos kasi di ko talaga inexpect ang nangyari kung pwede lang ako makapagpaalam ulit.” -McCoy
Yes, it was really…really sad. In August 2016, Jinri once said “ When Elisse left, he cried.” And now we got to see how McCoy tried to supress his tears in national television.
Crazier things. Kisses was the first one who got saved among the Four nominees. Cora, Yong and Elisse—the 4th Lucky House, Sun and Star.
How strange, right? It was as if everything was ordered in palindrome, even the 2nd week of PBB Dream Team and the 2nd to the last week reflected each other. In their 2nd week inside the house, Elisse became the team captain of the Dream Team squad. The pressure was really on her. She had to make sure everyone was doing their part and learn the stunts. Did they win? Of course, they did. Don’t make us remember how Elisse cried after their victorious performance! Huhu.
Now, 2nd to the last week—The live drama. What was her role this time? Production Assistant. Yeah, we know she had to do it for her to get the ingredients so that he can make a cake for McCoy as a birthday surprise but what did she have go through? a lot, including doing the laundry, ironing the clothes and supervising their scripts. Once again, she was so hands-on with her duties as a PA, a complete recall on how hands-on she was when she was handling the squad as their team captain. They won the task as well.
McCoy cheered for her, M-C-E-J-D. As days passed by, we saw them cheering for each other. McCoy had his lowest time inside the house but she was there to comfort him. Rose stayed beside Jack and comforted him.
The back to back nomination & eviction took Elisse away from McCoy “temporarily” Rose had to leave Jack…. for a while. The series of events brought out the truth inside McCoy’s heart, Elisse is not just his princess but also a cheerleader in his life.
Sepanx is coming. PBB why are you doing this to us!? Thanks for McLisse btw! THE REAL FIGHT IS HERE OUTSIDE THE HOUSE! BRING IT ON!!!
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More worldbuilding for Viri:
In the Alliance's heavily guarded vaults, there are full sets of custom cybernetic limbs for Viri, Lana, Theron, Suvia, and every member of Team Aurek and Team Besh. The prosthetics for the Force users, like Lana and Viri, are imbued with the Force. The idea behind them is that if one of the key members of the Alliance is hurt in battle and loses a limb, it will be able to be replaced immediately, since the long process of measuring and creating custom cybernetics has already been completed.
The entire Odessen base can be evacuated in 5-10 minutes. After Ziost, one of Lana's first priorities for the base was to ensure there were enough evac shuttles, escape routes, underground shelters, and supplies to withstand anything from groundquakes to radiation. When Vaylin's forces attacked Odessen at the end of KOTET, those evac protocols were used to get the base support staff (shopkeepers, cleaners, chefs, laboratory workers, communications staff, etc.) to safety, and not a single one was killed.
Similarly, the Alliance's bases on Iokath, Yavin 4, Tatooine, Manaan and other planets have the same quick-evac procedures and tools in place.
The medical kits carried by Alliance fighters, including Viri, contain kolto, sutures and bandages, the rakghoul vaccine, antibiotics, painkillers, anti-radiation serum and antidotes for numerous chemical and biological weapons.
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