I decided to finally get a proper Star Wars blog
I'm probably gonna post mostly about Republic Commando, Legends Mandalorians, maybe the Thrawn books, and a bit TCW. I might branch out though.
Also, this is my first real tumblr blog, so please excuse if I'm sometimes a bit confused
she/her
This is supposed to mainly be a Star Wars blog. My niches there are Republic Commando, Mandalorians, and also Zahn's Thrawn books. I do branch out sometimes, though, too. And I really like Mando'a, but am by far not as good at it as I'd like.
My main is ybereneth, but since that is just an uncurated pile of randomness, this is only relevant for likes, asks, etc.
I sometimes draw or write, but don't expect too much, as I lack any sort of consistency.
Generally, please be nice. It is possible to like or dislike different things, and to discuss different topics, and have different opinions and takes, without being rude, hateful, or spiteful.
If anything comes up, feel free to dm me or to send me an ask.
Jaing, Prudii, and Komârk donât get a lot of love but I have lots of headcanons for them so here they are:
-Jaing is the troublemaker, and Komârk is a bit of a cynic, so while the three of them are together, Prudii is running on a caf, two breath mints, some kind of food from the cafeteria, and two singular brain cells, just trying to KEEP THINGS TOGETHER while Jaing and Komârk act like idiots
-Jaing and Komârk arenât actually idiots. In fact, they are obviously very effective. They just like screwing with Prudii whenever they see him.
-Prudii is the nicest. Heâs sweet and will is the type to give you a random hug whenever. Jaing will give hugs occasionally, but not often unless itâs Mird. Komârk has given two hugs in his life. Once to Kal, and once to Prudii when Prudii got super stressed about the possibility of being reconditioned after the first battle of Geonosis
-Prudii has caf with blue milk and sugar. Jaing has some shots of espresso. Komârk is straight up black caf.
-Komârk acts like he hates Mird. He doesnât, and gives him pets when Jaing and Vau arenât around.
headcanon for a game thatâs over a decade old: at some point Scorch taught himself to juggle thermal dets, much to the horror of the rest of Delta Squad
based off this post, i present to you an au maybe 5 people will understand!
mercs/501st/rebel legion repcomm au*
*all dramatics in this au are based off of the characters and their dynamics in the series, not real world people, i feel like i have to say this because i'm a currently acting mercs officer
kal is an alor'ad, vau is the ver'alor (no really, trust me on this), and gilamar is the ruus'alor
kal has been the alor'ad for like 15 years now. nobody ever wants to run against him and the entire clan is dreading the year he retires. he never wants to retire, he's going to be trooping when he's 90
kal is ex-military (and in the mercs' military/vet group), discharged when he got shot in the ankle. he works as a substitute high school teacher, so he's mostly retired and treats the mercs as his job. he does a troop at least once a month, usually more
kal joined the mercs straight out of the military because he needed some kind of community and a hobby to keep him busy. pretty quickly he went from Military Hard Ass to Mr Rogers
he's INCREDIBLE at running cons, coordinating between multiple organizations, figuring out booth setup, managing the table schedule, and generally keeps things running very smoothly
kal and vau FUCKING HATED each other at first. they only got away with constant bickering because the alor'ad at the time was jango, who did not give a shit about the 'conflict resolution' part of his job and dumped alor'ad duties on the first person who was willing to do it as fast as possible (this was kal- jango quit the month after kal got approved)
before kal joined, vau was good friends with jango, and he's pretty pissed with him initially for quitting and leaving THIS LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER in charge, but vau didn't want the job either, so
the main reason kal and vau hate each other is that vau's dad was an air force officer (vau never enlisted because his dad wouldn't let him) and kal was army. instead of being reasonable about this, they build about 18 stratified layers of resentment
all their beef is external- they actually agree on most things related to the costuming clubs. they eventually start to bond over being annoyed by the same things, and mutually caring about their other club members. they get drinks after a small troop once and talk it out, and because they dont have Kamino And Vau Almost Killing Atin fucking up their relationship, this actually works. everybody is SHOCKED when vau runs for ver'alor the next year
vau is very happy with being ver'alor because he doesn't mind doing paperwork and merch stuff and finances (all of which kal is... pretty bad at) and he gets to be involved with all decision making, but kal does all the Social Organizing (which vau is very bad at)
mird is a fuckass little white dog that vau puts in various star wars costumes for events
alternatively mird is a doberman or shepherd breed that vau still puts in star wars costumes. i couldnt decide
vau does not talk about what he does for work. everyone is scared to ask
gilamar is the ruus'alor because it is his job to tell everyone not to breathe in bondo fumes or resin dust. this is my entire reasoning
he is actually a veterinarian, not a human doctor. everybody asks him for medical advice anyways
rav hosts most of the armor parties, she owns a ranch house (and horses), and also hosts an annual bonfire party. parja lives with her.
the clones are mostly not biologically related, but all of them for some reason or another lack family connections and have latched onto the costuming groups for that community. kal hasn't legally adopted any of them (he met them all at least as late teens/adults) but most of them refer to him as their dad/grandpa
the nulls are all masters of the craft. they have like 4+ approved kits each across the mercs, 501st, and rebel legion. jaing has the most approved kits: 2 custom mandalorians, a rotj boba (the madman), an arc lieutenant, stormtrooper, sandtrooper, imperial officer, generic jedi, darth vader- (the list continues and he has more in the works. he also is in Droid Builders)
mereel only has less approved kits than jaing, he has more if you count his joke kits. approved he has a custom mandalorian, a darth vader, a general grievous (yes this is a thing, you stand in the cloak and puppet the grievous), and a generic clone
for joke kits, he has a Bedazzled Mando, Sexy Darth Vader, Sexy Boba, a halo mashup, Male Twi'lek Hooter, Rainbow Jedi, and more
a'den specifically likes making helmets and has an entire wall of just helmets
all the nulls have lighting and mechanical parts to die for (whistling birds that actually move into place, fog machine in the jetpack, motorized and lit rangefinder, programmed voice lines activated by glove gestures, blasters with lights and sounds)
mereel also made an e-web prop
bardan joined rebel legion first with a jedi and still sometimes wears it but as soon as he found out about the mercs he made armor and didnt look back
bardan's lighting and programming game is also insane, he also likes droid building and lightsaber hilt building/programming
bardan has only done his jedi and one mando, but he's constantly helping everybody else with their armor. he's at every armor party. he's the best tailor in the whole goddamn area
zey is some kind of regional command/app team for the rebel legion (im not familiar with their command structure sorryyyy) and does not want to wear armor because it's hard to put on and rough on your body and also difficult and expensive. he's very good as a regional officer. kal only drives him a little crazy sometimes, they generally work together very well
etain is rebel legion with a custom jedi, and she's had mando armor in the works for literal years. bardan is about to kidnap her for a weekend to get it done already. she loves building blasters and helped mereel with the e-web
bardan is the clan's jor'alor (runs social media). before he joined that was vau's job. vau is ASS at social media and kept posting his dog. bardan actually would prefer to be the ru'cabur but he can't give social media control back to vau, it would be a disaster, so he's just also unofficially doing ru'cabur stuff (historian, lore expert)
at cons bardan usually runs a mandalorian history panel and includes a Mando'a Crash Course section where he gets the audience yelling phrases. he gets to nerd out to an actually interested audience for about 45 minutes, while wearing mando armor, with a power point. this is ideal for him
laseema has a twi'lek mando but prefers to handle rather than troop, she only wears her armor 2-3 times a year
i could go on but tbh if you read all of that already ily
kal and vau are legendary at bounty hunting (its a con game) and every con they have a competition to see who brings in more bounties. they are in their 50s and 60s and they are kicking the kids' ASSES. ordo is BEGGING kal to kit down and eat, he's been in armor for 9 straight hours and is no longer capable of doing the stairs. kal is refusing because he's two bounties down. vau won't kit down either because kal isn't. gilamar has to force them both to go kit down at the same time. yes this is a terrible example for the officers to be setting
cant shut up won't shut up. fenn was the ver'alor before vau, and the only reason he quit was because he got dragged into regional command. he doesnt WANT to be in regional command but he can't get out of it now and he's really, really good at it
bardan is arligan's biological son which makes him going mando even funnier. he still wears his jedi a couple times a year but just prefers wearing armor. there is no philosophical or moral beef, he just wears the jedi when his armor needs repairs or he needs to be essentially wearing normal clothes instead of armor for some reason. zey jokingly calls him a traitor about this
bardan really wants to get arligan in armor and is totally willing to build it for him. arligan isnt really interested
bc zey was in rebel legion when bardan was a child, this means BABY BARDAN IN JEDI COSTUME
part of the reason he had his hair long is so that he could grow out a padawan braid without it being conspicuous at like, school. when he goes mando/is an adult so he was going to lose the braid anyways, he cuts his hair and specifically asks arligan to cut the braid and its goofysilly but also like... a moment
bardan and arligan doing lightsaber play fights..... oh im weak.... arligan teaching 8 year old bardan to do the ani-obi and bardan keeps dropping the crappy kids plastic toy lightsaber hes using (which is why hes using a crappy toy rather than one of the dozen fancy metal neopixels theyve got lying around)
DECOR/MERCH
the idea of all the characters having SOME level of nerdy star wars decor is so so charming to me
kal doesnt have a ton of decor but he does collect challenge coins, multiple of each, which he freely gives out to people especially if they dont have one yet (wish that was me but theyre usually like 10 bucks each so..... hes spent thousands in challenge coins alone)
kal's patch jacket goes HARD. leather jacket with the patches well organized and spaced, had bardan sew them on so they're very well done with matching thread and shit, red rank rope
vau has a few decor items but its all very tasteful art, professionally framed. hes got like, an original new hope poster or something that hes gotten as many cast members as possible to sign
vau has a patch jacket but it only has the club back patch, clan patch, and rank rope. all his other patches are in a drawer
if i dont watch it im going to be doing art of everybody at a post-troop pizza party wearing their racing shirts and trading coins and trading cards
speaking of trading cards, vau takes a small stack from everyone who gets them made and sends a couple out with clan merch (fenn started this, hes just continuing it)
FUCK I COULD DRAW WHAT THEIR TRADING CARDS WOULD ALL LOOK LIKE OH NO.
bardan and zey have the most unhinged home decor. basically all of it is star wars themed. thats kind of what happens when youre a single dad raising a kid and youre both heavily involved in star wars communities, you get a darth vader waffle maker
etain doesnt buy decor so much as she makes it herself. she puts a lil star wars flair into a lot of her stuff and has smaller items like a lightsaber keychain
kast is her dad and is also rebel legion (no command) and has been friends with zey since high school, which means ETAIN AND BARDAN ARE CHILDHOOD BESTIES
etain and bardan trick or treating, but not in their club costumes, but usually in matching themed costumes- one year bardan was link and etain (who pitched a fit at the assumption she would be zelda) was the great deku tree.
Delta Squad Week Day 6: "Afternoon" & "Where's my caf?"
Another late entry. Sorry for that. Also, you get only one chapter of a fic that is mapped out to be three in total - I just couldn't get the whole thing done in time because of the dreadful duties of real life. Again, I'm sorry. I hope you still enjoy this first chapter.
Elementary, ner vod (3395 words) by BlueMarbles
Chapters: 1/3
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: RC-1207 | Delta-07 | Sev, RC-1262 | Delta-62 | Scorch, Delta Squad (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Investigations, detective pastiche, why is the caf gone?, squad dynamics
Summary:
All Fixer wants is to spend his afternoon unwinding with a cup of caf and a detective HoloNovel - his favourite genre. But when his caf - including a mug that holds sentimental value for Fixer - vanishes from Delta Squad's quarters, he has to launch an investigation of his own.
@deltasquadweek 2025, Day 6. Prompts: "Afternoon" and "Where's my caf?"
Chapter 1
Fixer was walking through the corridors of Arca Barracks, looking forward to the HoloNovel and the caf waiting for him in his and the other Deltasâ quarters. Not long ago, the concept of leisure time had been foreign to him, unsettling even. It hadnât been something the clones had been given back on Kamino, and naturally, there was none to be had behind enemy lines or in battle, either.Â
Like all his brothers, Fixer had been conditioned to believe that his entire existence revolved around his purpose as a soldier, with not much leeway for interests and activities beyond his skills related to that. But as the war went on, he and his brothers had been exposed more and more to the outside world, and Fixer had learned to enjoy things in life that had nothing to do with the purpose heâd been bred for.Â
The issue was, while his interests had indeed broadened, the war was still raging, and days off were rarer than a clean debrief, so their chances to just relax were very much limited. And even then, strictly speaking, a lot of what one could choose to do did break the regulations. He was well aware that some of his other commando brothers outside of Delta Squad used to sneak out of the barracks to go to clubs, the theatre, or bars. Obvious rule break: they were supposed to stay in the military complex, nicely stored away, out of the civiliansâ sight.Â
It wasnât Fixerâs style, but he also didnât judge them. For one, who was he to deny any of his brothers a little bit of fun? But more importantly, he, too, was breaking the rules. The clones didnât get any form of monetary compensation, so he had to pull his HoloNovels from dark corners of the HoloNet, obscuring his trail so that he wouldnât be caught. Ironic, given that the novels he loved so much all centred around detectives solving crimes, letting him figure out who was the delinquent together with them. He liked the structure of that, the way all the pieces fell into place eventually. So unlike how things tended to go in war.
The door to Delta Squadâs quarters slid open with a smooth hiss, and Fixer came to a sudden halt. His datapad with the sliced novels was lying on the table where he left it, alright, but where were his brothers? And where the kriff was his caf? The one that heâd gotten just earlier, steaming hot and delicious for his reading session?
He checked his chrono. When he had left this room exactly 18 minutes ago, Sev had been sitting on his bunk, tinkering with his deece as usual, Scorch had been watching Force knows what on the HoloNet, datapad conspicuously turned away from his brothers so that they couldnât see. And Boss had taken a long-needed nap. They hadnât mentioned any plans when Fixer had left for a loo break that eventually evolved into an impromptu chat with Atin, whom heâd run into, so it was surprising to see them all gone now. He checked his comm, anxious that he had missed new orders coming in, but nothing. Odd.
Even more odd, though, was that his caf was gone along with them. His brothers were free men, after all - or as free as any of them were, anyway - so on a lazy afternoon like this, they could go wherever theyâd please, as long as they were staying in the complex. His caf, however, was very much his, and obviously didnât have legs to walk away with, which meant somebody had stolen it.Â
This was upsetting. Not only had he been looking forward to his downtime, but also, along with the caf his favourite mug was gone, one of his very few private possessions. It even kept the caf warm, at precisely the perfect temperature. And he couldnât just get another one. Not without credits he didnât have. And even if - it wouldnât replace the sentimental value.Â
And while his brothers knew what that mug meant to him, they were the only logical suspects. Usually, nobody else came to this room, and barely anyone knew the code for the door, so it must have been one of them. Nobody was crazy enough to break into a room in the barracks, just to steal some caf.
Alright then. He had planned to spend a lazy afternoon reading about Cirok Uâlms solving a case, but it looked like he had a case of his own on his hands now. So he was going to do what Cirok Uâlms would be doing: Looking for clues and deducing what had happened.
He sat down at the table, grabbed his datapad, and opened a new file. âBoss, Sev, Scorch,â he wrote down in a spreadsheet, ready to collect evidence. His eyes examined the table in front of him. There were a few splashes of caf were his mug had been. They had already mostly dried, meaning they must have been there for at least five minutes or so. But Fixer was sure that he himself hadnât caused them. He wouldnât ever spill caf.Â
Boss, diligent as he was, wasnât the type to spill drinks either, and Sev had the precision of a sniper. âSplashed caf,â Fixer wrote down in Scorchâs column. So for now, he would focus on him.Â
He frowned. Option one, Scorch had walked away with it. Option two, he had simply drunk the caf, and then hid the mug in a feeble attempt to try and cover up the transgression. Either way, he decided, it couldnât hurt giving Scorchâs bunk and locker a sweep.
Searching Scorchâs bed - which was, contrary to military standards, not made - didnât yield any results other than the conclusion that his brother should swap out his pyjamas for fresh ones. Thus, Fixer moved on to the locker. Stacked armour plates, a few datapads, fresh changes of fatigues, several pieces of ordnance that were clearly not meant to be stored outside the armoury. And, for some Force-forsaken reason, a paper garland, and a dead potted plant Fixer remembered Scorch had liberated from a diner. But no mug, nor any smell of caf either. Fixer paused. Scorch taking the caf with him had been the more likely option, anyway. But how to catch him red-handed?
The door slid open, and Scorch came in, hair wet, and only a towel wrapped around his hips. Fixer, still at Scorchâs open locker, froze, trying not to look guilty. Scorch stared at him, and Fixer stared back.
âAnd what exactly do you think you are doing?â Scorch asked. His eyes flickered to the dead plant. âTrying to have a chat with Bob or what?â
Fixer frowned, somewhat distracted by that revelation. It wasnât a good look being caught snooping around your comradeâs stuff, pod brother or not. But also, who in their right mind would call their stolen, dead potted plant Bob?
The truth, Fixer decided, was the best option. âIâm investigating.â
Scorchâs eyebrows shot up. âInvestigating? I think you have read one too many of these Cirok Uâlms stories that you love so much, ner vod. Or the ones with that little old lady⊠whatâs she called again?â
âMadame Maar-Pâell,â Fixer said matter-of-factly. âAnd no. Iâm not playing some fun little game imitating literary characters. This is serious. Somebody stole my caf. And my mug. You know very well how much I love that mug! And I am afraid, brother, that you are the prime suspect.â
Fixer hadnât thought it possible, but Scorchâs eyebrows rose even higher. âMe? Little old me? What have I ever done to give you the impression Iâd steal from you? You hurt my feelings, brother.â
âFor one, the thief spilt some caf. Fits your profile best. And also, you have stolen from me before. Remember those flashbangs you took from my pack without asking?â
Scorch rolled his eyes. âWe were⊠how old back then? Four? Five? And I have apologised. Besides, I am a demolition expert. I can be precise when I want to, and if I were stealing from you, I definitely would.â He loosened his towel, and it slipped to the floor, leaving him entirely in the nude. âAnd as you can see, vodâika, there is nothing on me where I could hide your precious mug. I went straight from here to the refreshers and back. And who in their right mind would bring caf to the shower? I might be a bit crazy sometimes, but not that particular brandâŠâ He walked over to the locker, shoved Fixer to the side nonchalantly, and began dressing in a fresh set of fatigues.
Kriff. Scorch was right. The moist towel and wet hair clearly proved that his claim about having been at the refresher was right, and in the barracks, refreshers not only werenât any places where you could hide a mug, but a lot of brothers who would take it for themselves on top of that. Fixer had to reevaluate. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he walked back to the table again, looking at the dried spots as he sat down.
âYouâre right, it doesnât check out. But you left the room after me, which makes you my witness. Mind sitting with me and answering a few questions?â
Scorch, now fully dressed again, joined him, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. With a wide grin and his best imitation of a vaguely squeaky granny-voice he said: âSo, Mr Uâlms, letâs solve this case, shall we?â
Fixer loved his brothers - he firmly believed he was part of the best squad there was - but sometimes Scorch specifically could be the most annoying creature in the galaxy. âCut it, diâkut,â he said. âThis is a serious matter. My mug is gone, and I want it back. Preferably before our free afternoon is over.â He paused. âBesides, canonically Cirok Uâlms and Madame Maar-Pâell have never met. Different authors, different stories. Also, set decades apart. And different vibe, too.â He knew he should be happy that Scorch was even roughly able to name his favourite characters, but it still pained him that his brother didnât have a clue what they were actually about. âSo, when exactly did you leave for the refreshers, and were you the last one to leave the room?â
Scorch tilted his head. âWell, when I left, the others were already gone. But so was your caf, if I recall correctly. I thought you had gotten back and taken it with you.â He paused. âSo, who is your new prime suspect now, chief detective? Has Sev finally snapped and gone on a caf killing spree? Or has Bossâ calm demeanour been a farce all these years, meticulously designed to make you feel safe, just waiting for the right moment to snatch away your beloved mug?â His grin was devilish.
It wasnât always easy for Fixer at the best of times to put up with Scorchâs antics, but now?. âNot funny, Scorch,â he said sourly âFor the last time: I just want my mug back. Be cooperative, will you?â He pulled up his investigation file. âWhen did you leave the room? And why havenât you seen who took it? Or have you and you are just not telling me?âÂ
He added to Scorchâs column in the case file: âFormer offences: Theft of flashbangs. Alibi: Refreshers - wet hair, moist towel. Locker and bunk: searched, no results.â
Scorch leaned over the table, trying to see what Fixer was writing, but Fixer turned his datapad away. Scorch might have an alibi, but he was not cleared enough to be allowed to see the case files, he thought. âInsight into this depends on what you are going to tell me now, Scorchâika,â he said.
âAlright. I left the room for the refreshers shortly after you left. Sev was still working on the deece, Boss asleep.â He paused. âI must have been away for about 7 minutes. Maybe a bit more. Didnât have a chrono on me. Got to the refreshers, queued, realised I had forgotten my shampoo, went back again to get it.â He paused and crossed his arms. Fixer tried to read Scorchâs face, hoping to spot if his brother was lying. âWhen I came back, the other two were gone. And I think your caf, too? I didnât really pay attention, though. Grabbed my shampoo, and went back to the refreshers.â Scorch shrugged. âAnd when I came back, a certain brother of mine was sticking his head into my locker.â
Fixer wrote down Scorchâs version of events. So far, the alibi mostly made sense, if there hadnât been one detail amiss. âSo you came back to get shampoo?â
âYep.â
âBut when you returned, you didnât bring your shampoo with you again. How so?â
Scorch blinked. âYou do know how shampoo works, right? Or do I have to ask Boss to lecture you about personal hygiene? I used it up. The bottle was empty, so I tossed it.â
âMhh,â Fixer said, wondering if it would be worth the effort to check the refreshersâ bin to confirm Scorchâs claim. They all got the same hygiene products standard issue, but somehow Scorch managed to smuggle in a different one ever since they left Kamino. He insisted that it made his hair shinier and his curls more manageable. Not that it mattered, anyway, Fixer thought, considering they were wearing their helmets most of the time.Â
âYou still think it was me?â Scorch asked.
âI wonât make a statement on an ongoing investigation.â To be honest, Fixer was not sure if at this point he should treat Scorch as a suspect, a witness, or maybe even make him an assistant in his quest to find the caf-thief.Â
âYeah. Right.â A pause. âThis is fun to you. Admit it. You are not just reading about Cirok Uâlms, or Madame Maar-Pâell, or Master Pra Unn, no, you can embody them. Pretend you are them. Or Count Pitor Veem-Zey. Or whatâs the other one called? The one with the moustache? UghâŠâ
Fixer blinked. He was both taken aback, flattered and impressed that Scorch knew all of his favourite fictional sleuths. âErkil Poarro,â he said. Â
âYeah. Anyway. Mind if I join in with your little game of deduction? Be the Doctor Uhat Zon to your Cirok Uâlms, your⊠uh⊠no idea how the othersâ friends are called. But you get the gist.â
It took Fixer a few moments to consider. Scorch had been his suspect, but he also had an alibi that seemed to work and - truth be told - doing this together did indeed sound fun. Maybe even a consolation for his wind-down-routine being disturbed. âFine,â he finally relented.Â
âGood.â Scorch grinned and got up. âSince you decided to take the liberty to look at my stuff, I donât know why we should not give Boss and Sev the same courtesy.â
âBut Boss is⊠well, Boss!â Fixer protested.
Scorch raised an eyebrow. âScared of the Sarge, are you? Fine. Youâll look at Sevâs locker, Iâll do Bossâ - deal? So that way Boss is my problem if we get caught.â
Having a partner in - well, not crime - significantly sped up his progress. Nevertheless, going through their brotherâs things didnât yield any results. The mug was not there, and unfortunately, the only thing they learned was that Sev must have left fully armoured and with his weapons, while Boss left both the armour and the deece behind.Â
Fixer, who had noted these things in his case file, wondered what his next step should be. He found himself somewhat distracted by watching Scorch, who was pacing intently back and forth with his hand placed ponderously at his chin. Fixer suppressed a small, fond smile at the sight. Scorch seemed to flourish in the role he had assigned himself.
âSo, we are not getting any further here. Maybe, instead of looking for clues in here,â Scorch gestured through the room, âwe should look for clues in there,â he said and stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at Fixer.
âWhat do you mean?â
âFiguring out a possible motive, diâkut. Why would one of them - or me, even, although we know it wasnât me - go steal your mug? We all know what the thing means to you. You even said so earlier. So. Have you done anything that might make either of them want to get back at you?â
Fixer frowned. Scorch was making a good point here. Of course, there was banter between brothers, teasing, even. And they had occasionally nagged some things from each other, especially when they were younger. In a squad like theirs, what was your brotherâs was yours and vice versa - within reason. And strictly speaking, they didnât even have property in the first place, and all their belongings, just like they themselves, were owned by the Republic. But still. Whenever Boss or Sev - or Scorch, too, most of the time - had taken anything that was Fixerâs, they usually had a more or less good reason. So what could be the cause for one of them tking the mug?
âIt wasnât Boss. Itâs - it doesnât seem like him, does it? And SevâŠâ Fixer paused, âI mean, he was annoyed about me âstealing three of his killsâ, as he put it, last mission. Does that count as a motive?â
Scorch grinned. âOh yes, that very much counts. You know him. If he doesnât get to shoot or stab enough things, he gets antsy. For him, it must be like you stealing his favourite thing away from him. And what happened to you? One of your favourite things got stolen away from you.â He stabbed the air with his finger, beaming. âFixer, my man, I think Sev is trying to get back to you, and we have to find him!â
Fixer was still miffed about his afternoon plans having gone down the drain, but something about Scorchâs excitement was contagious. Yet, he tried to suppress that feeling. With a sigh, he noted down Sevâs motive on his datapad. He frowned. Where could Sev have gone? With his blaster and armour, he might have gone to a shooting range, but there were several ones at Arca barracks. Or he was out and about scaring either shinies or civvies. Fixer started typing on his datapad. âI will try and locate him by slicing into the system and locating his armour tally.âÂ
âDo that if you want, but I think I have a better idea. A faster one,â Scorch said.Â
âWhich is?â
âBuyâce,â was all Scorch said, before, with one large step, he reached his locker, got out his helmet and shoved it on his head. âIâm just gonna link into his HUD, and Iâll see where he is⊠ah, look at that. Sevâika is at the sniping range up on the roof. How very Sev of him.âÂ
Fixer couldnât help but be impressed. Scorch had been fast. With all his focus on having to find Sev, he himself had forgotten about the easy, obvious solution of just utilising the link between the squadâs gear. How embarrassing. He would have to pull off something similarly shrewd to even the scores with Scorch.
It was odd that Sev hadnât mentioned having a range slot today. Fixer pulled up the sniping rangeâs schedule with a few swift clicks on his datapad, and frowned. âSuspicious. You know what? He isnât scheduled for the range today. Right now, one RC-1259, a man called âMarkâ, Rho Squad, is scheduled to be there.â He frowned.
âMarkâŠ,â Scorch echoed. âNever heard of that guy. Rho Squad, you say? Mark⊠Mark⊠MarksmanâŠ? I mean, it makes sense for him to be Rhoâs sniper, and Sev might know him from specialised sniper training, but that doesnât explain why Sev is up there and Mark⊠well, we donât know if he is there, too. Anyway, the plot thickens, ner vod.â
Fixer nodded. He added a new column to the case file and titled it âMark, Rho Squadâ. He also filed this new information under Sevâs column. He smiled. Finally, they were making progress, and that made him very content.Â
Scorch had no such issue with showing his joy more openly. With a wide grin, he flung an arm around Fixerâs shoulders. âWhat are we waiting for? Grab your gear, and letâs go pay Sev a visit!â
Stay tuned for the missing two chapters! Delta Squad Week is a gift that keeps giving, apparently. ^^
I wish there was a note pinned to the front of every Republic Commando novel explaining to new readers that all the characters in these books were purposefully written as morally ambiguous unreliable narrators.
I saw a picture of Daniel Logan (kid boba) wearing the armor and it made me so sad so I thought I should make it even sadder :) Â I love the Fetts so much ;____;
As always please click for better quality <3Â Â
Ref under the cut!
Mandoâa translation (it was hell to write): âIâm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal"âDaily remembrance of those passed on, followed by the names of those being remembered (source: wookipedia)
If more people understood that Jaster is not a goody-two-shoes knight in a white cape fighting for the greater good and with a "standard good person" morale, but a mercenary that follows contracts to the letter who has a code and rules for him and other mercenaries, I think I would tolerate most of the fanon content of him
Exactly, everything we talked about in the server.
Yes he had a strict morale code and stuck to his ethics, and he was seen as an honourable man, but from mandalorian standards, since he was respected for his martial talents.
Yes he wrote his Supercommando Codex in his attempts to reform his people, but this was a codex specifically for mandalorian warriors. Not for random civilians. It was built on the resol'nare and the Canons of Honor. What is important here, is that he saw that mandalorian warriors should be first and foremost mercenaries sticking to a system of rules and behaviour guidelines.
Yes, he specifically distanced himself from unnecessary brutality and barbaric behaviour, and he is still not a sheep herder.
He was the mand'alor, he was the Al'ori'ramikade, he was a skilled mercenary, he fought as the military leader in a civil war caused by his reforms because he wanted to bring structure and ethics into a brutal job, so that it brings you honor. He was loved, admired, respected, hated, fought against. His honourable morales and ethics made him so special, but what tumblr has to understand is that they were for a mandalorian warrior.
Okay I think I said this before but one of the coolest things about Mandalorian characters to me (from an anthropological perspective) is their moral system.
Like, bounty hunting is one of the most common and widely acceptable Mandalorian professions, a bounty hunter is the basis of the entire Mandalorian character and carries a consistent through line in the various manifestations of Mandalorians we see including Jango and Jaster. But bounty hunting is a fucked up job, by our standards. These are people who are freelance law enforcement for whomever hired them, though different ones draw different lines. Largely they are delivering petty criminals or impoverished bail jumpers or tax evaders or even escaped slaves to some uncertain fate, often death, in exchange for money.
And yet Din Djarin, for example, is one of the most steadfastly code-driven and honorable characters and mandalorians we see. Many people have pointed out he is the quintessential Mandalorian. Heâs extremely likeable and he doesnât feel bad or evil. Because to him, heâs not bribable, heâs not swayed by a hard fight or a challenge or begging. Heâs fulfilling his word, carrying out contracts that he agreed to. Heâs providing for his family. Heâs not being unnecessarily cruel or murderous. He goes to great lengths to never break his word. Heâs humble, doesnât buy into traditional gunslinger machismo for the most part. But he also has no qualms about killing anyone he has to in order to complete his jobs, or hurting people and communities because heâs been paid to. Immoral actions can still be done (and often are) with honor in the Mandalorian psyche, because those are two totally different concepts. It seems like, to them, honor is often more important than objective morality. And thatâs really fucking interesting!!
I think we should write Mandalorian characters more through that lens and explore what it means to be the âgood guyâ in Mandalorian history - a history which also is RIDDEN with a legacy of conquest and colonization to boot, though theyâve since experienced multiple genocides and become a wide diaspora.
