#carmois devora

[alyssnighthawk]

‘Fictober19, Day 1

Prompt: “It’ll be fun, trust me!”

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Rating/Warnings: General / no warnings

Second day and I’m already behind. Whoops.

-

10 ATC

“It’ll be fun, trust me!” Carmois’ mocking tone rose with each syllable as he followed Zamrise into the cargo hold, carrying a misshapen tarp. “You said that last time, you IDIOT!”

His voice ended in a shout as a small scrap of black fur barreled into his legs from behind before making a beeline for the stack of crates. Not this again. Swearing as he saw the kitten’s target, the open crate of rations they were delivering, he unceremoniously tossed the tarp over the kitten, sticking his tongue out at the buried lump of fur as the tarp thudded to the ground. 

“Don’t look at me!” Zamrise barely concealed his laughter as Carmois rounded on him, finger raised. “Last time I said that, you ended up with Hela. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

An innocent mewl filtered through the canvas as Hela struggled to escape her prison.

“See, she agrees!”

“No, nothing wrong with her,” Carmois rolled his eyes as he successfully retrieved the kitten from under the tarp. “Except the fact she’s torn up the past three crates of rations we’re supposed to be delivering to Ord Mantell, remember? Does the name Skavak ring a bell?”

He adjusted the squirming kitten under his arm as he pushed past Zamrise. The Twi’lek captain followed him out, alternating between horrendous kitten impressions and jokes (“This is a purr-fect situation, isn’t it Carmois?” “Oh, there’ll be Hela-n this ship before you cool down, won’t there?”). After the fifth joke in a row (why couldn’t the refresher be closer to the cargo hold?), he rounded on Zamrise. 

“We’ll lose money off this run at this rate, and all you can do is make jokes?”

Zamrise winked, patting Carmois’ shoulder as he passed by.

“Relax. You love her, admit it!”

Carmois rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“I hate you,” he sighed.

-

“Hela!”

Carmois jumped as Zamrise’s surprised cry tore through the ship. He threw down his datapad, wincing as a sharp crack sounded as the datapad hit the floor before darting out the door. If that kitten makes me break my datapad, I’m going to k--

Oh, blast it all.

Carmois skidded to a stop by Zamrise, looking over the Twi’lek’s shoulder as Hela rolled around in a nest of wrappers, the unfortunate victim of her initial assault lying to the side, its lid discarded as the contents devoured. He almost laughed as he saw the amount eaten; where in the galaxy did Hela get her appetite from? His amusement quickly faded to renewed frustration as he tallied the lost credits in his head. 

They definitely were going to lose money.

“Make that four crates.” Zamrise scratched his chin, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Maybe I should lock the cargo bay.”

Carmois glared at Zamrise as Hela gleefully dug into the rations.

“We’re going to die broke, and it’s going to be because of this stupid animal.”

This time, it took more than ten minutes to corral Hela, the kitten darting through every gap the smuggler left open. Groaning, Carmois kicked one of the wrappers out of the way as Hela squeezed between two mercifully unopened crates. Hela perked up a second later, tail twitching as she stalked towards the kicked wrapper.

Grinning, Carmois kicked another wrapper, watching as Hela changed course, her haunches tensing as she prepared to pounce. He managed to kick one more wrapper before she was soaring through the air, letting out a triumphant squeak as she captured the wrapper in her claws. 

Bending down, Carmois scooped the kitten up, ignoring her playful growls as she commenced attack on his fingers instead. Better his fingers than the cargo. Speaking of cargo, where in the blazes did Zamrise go? He turned around, scanning the room--

Of course. Leave me to clean up your mess.

Carmois muttered a few choice words towards his friend before stomping out of the cargo hold. Zamrise’s ship, Zamrise’s mess. After double checking the locks were in place and couldn’t be unlocked by a wayward kitten, he set Hela down on the floor, planning to list off some guidelines in hopes that Hela could understand that, no, cargo isn’t food, and, yes, you can terrorize Zamrise.

Putting her down was a mistake.

He was cut off mid-breath as Hela took off, careening down the hallway as fast as her undersized paws could carry her. He almost shouted after her, already formulating a plan to coerce Zamrise to get rid of the kitten on Ord Mantell before he paused, watching the kitten disappear into Zamrise’s quarters. He had no idea if his friend was in there, but at least Hela was out of the cargo hold.

Not my problem anymore.

Turning around, Carmois wandered into passenger lounge, plopping down on the clawed-up bench mere seconds before an unholy screech echoed through the ship:

“NO! NOT MY CAPE!”

Carmois smiled as he kicked his boots up onto the dejarik table, watching Hela dart through room with a torn piece of cloth in her teeth. Maybe she would be handy to have around after all.

[alyssnighthawk]

‘Fictober Day 5

Prompt: “I might just kiss you.”

Fandom: SWTOR

Rating / Warning: General / none

(These will be out of order before I catch up)

-

Nar Shaddaa’s neon lights danced through the small window of the warehouse, illuminating the trashed room where two figures worked with a desperation topped only by spies trying to escape once their cover was blown. 

Well, only one of them was working. The other was pacing like a caged akk dog, occasionally offering what he believed to be helpful input. But both of them felt the prominent cloud of destruction hanging over them if they weren’t able to access the shipping manifest for their handlers.

Rujia’s shoulders tensed as she transferred the last file to the datastick. This was their last chance; they had already tripped the alarms in all the other avenues they tried. It was by luck they managed to find a final backdoor into the security system, but if they weren’t successful this time, it would be game over. 

Death wasn’t on her agenda. 

“Try now,” her voice was barely above a whisper as she pushed away from the desk.

Carmois stopped pacing, rushing to her side an instant later. He placed a hand on her shoulder, reaching out slowly towards his datapad. One squeeze of her shoulder, and Carmois plugged the drive into his datapad. Her breath caught in her throat as they watched the lights blink as the system tried once, twice, to read the files.

Loading, loading, loading.

Before their eyes, a scrolling list of numbers and words filled the screen, and Rujia let out a shuddering breath.

Success.

Carmois gasped, and before Rujia could even release the tension in her shoulders, he was picking her up from the chair. She let out a squeak of protest, but it was drowned out by his laugh.

“Aria, you did it!” He twirled her around the room, and she couldn’t help but laugh in return as she went around and around and around. “Stars, I might just kiss you right now.”

Still laughing, she looked up as he placed her back down. As she met his gaze, she opened her mouth to ask what else needed to be done before she saw the look in his eyes.

He was serious.

Slowly, she felt the smile disappearing from her face. No, no, she couldn’t do this, not now. She stepped back hesitantly, hating the feeling as she felt her face grow cold. Carmois stepped back, a wary grin appearing on his face as he raised his hands. The serious look in his eyes was long gone, as if it was never there in the first place, replaced by his usual carefree facade.

“Or not. I mean, I’d rather keep my body in one piece if that’s okay with you,” Carmois sighed, running a hand through his already tousled hair, “I’m just going to go over there now. Need to, uh, check our supplies.”

Rujia waited until he disappeared through the door before she fell back into the empty seat. Her head dropped into her hands as she groaned, alternating between wanting to slam her head on the desk and wanting to chase out the door after Carmois and-- 

No. She had a job to do, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, let Carmois kriffing Devora mess with her head. Besides, whatever he felt for her (which would be stupid of him), there was no way she was going to fall for him, however charming he may be.

So why was her heart threatening to hammer out of her chest?

And why the hell could she feel herself blushing?

[alyssnighthawk]

‘Fictober18, Day 3

Prompt: “How can I trust you?”

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Rating/Warnings: General / no warnings

Darn school and having to study instead of write

-

Maybe starting a cantina brawl wasn’t the best way to escape after all.

Rujia stumbled, hugging the wall as she skidded around the corner of the alleyway. Behind her, several members of the Kintan Kings were shouting, following the giant brute who’d caught her. Well, almost caught, she thought as she slid the code cylinder into one of her vest’s hidden pockets.

Vaulting over a rubbish bin, she started scanning for the exit before she slammed into a wall. Not a wall, she realized as a scaled hand grabbed the collar of her vest and yanked her upwards, but one of the gang members. Tucking her legs in, she pushed herself off of her Nikto captor, her left shoulder screaming in protest as he snatched her arm in an attempt to keep a hold on her.

Swinging around, she planted another kick, this time to his jaw. Roaring, he tossed her away, drawing a long, crooked knife from his belt. Flipping over, she placed two shots in the Nikto’s head, pushing herself up with her right arm as the other’s shouts grew louder, shadows converging near the entrance.. the only entrance. A mental timer started in her head as she scanned around her for any escape routes.

10.. 9… no open vents near the floor. There was one several meters up but no visible handholds to scale the wall near it. 8.. 7… she wouldn’t be able to dash out of the entryway. 6.. 5… maybe she could--

A small shower of dust and grit rained down on her head, and she glanced up, spotting a flash of copper hair as someone waved her down on the rooftop. A split second of decision - to trust a random stranger or risk getting caught by the gang members - before she was sprinting towards the rubbish bin she had seen earlier.

Shouting in an attempt to distract the Nikto as they barreled around the corner, she unhooked a flash grenade from her belt, priming it as the distance closed between her and the bin. 2.. 1.. Now. Leaping onto the plastic top, she lobbed it into the middle of the group as she landed, twisting away from the bright light as it exploded.

Sprinting across the length of the bin, she hurled herself off the edge, grabbing the narrow divet in the wall she had seen earlier, feet scrambling to find footholds. Spying another ledge two meters above her, she pulled one of her legs up and pushed herself upwards, gritting her teeth as her left shoulder bounced painfully off of the wall.

Shouts came from below her, and she took the risk of glancing downwards, flinching as a blaster shot slammed into the wall above her. She cursed and launched herself upwards, throwing caution to the wind as she continued scaling up the wall. Blaster bolts and the occasional piece of debris sailed past her, threatening to dislodge her grip at any moment.

C’mon, c’mon, almost there.

She was reaching for the ledge of the roof when one of the bolts seared the top of her glove, pain flaring briefly through her now nerveless fingers. Gasping, she threw her left arm up, ignoring the ugly pop as she tried to grasp the ledge. Her stomach dropped as her fingers brushed the edge before dropping, and she fought the urge to scream in terror. There was no way she could survive the fall.

Her left arm jolted, and she yelped as it took on the full weight of her body. Glancing upwards, she saw the boy who’d flagged her down earlier grasping her arm, face scrunched in effort as he held on. Before her mind could process that she wasn’t in fact dying, her body had already sprung into action, swinging her feet around to find purchase on the wall again.

The Nikto had stopped firing when she fell, believing her to be finished. Realizing a second later after she did that she wasn’t about to die, they renewed their effort to kill her.. and her savior. Grunting, the copper-haired boy heaved, pulling her over the ledge and onto the rooftop. For a few seconds, both of them laid on the gritty surface, gasping for breath.

The boy was the first to move, grasping her left arm to help her up. Her head foggy from the pain, she snarled in response and shook him off, rising unsteadily to her feet.

“Kriff, sorry,” he murmured, grabbing her right arm instead to steady her, careful to avoid the burn. She was about to shake him off before the world tilted alarmingly, her mind sluggish as she fought to stay standing.

“Whoa there, take it easy,” he continued in the same quiet, reassuring tone, “C’mon, I can get you a medpack and somewhere to hide. I take it those guys aren’t your friends?”

“How can I trust you…” she trailed off uncertainly, but obediently shuffled along as the boy led her towards an access hatch she hadn’t noticed before.

“I can leave you back there with your obvious friends, but I’m inclined to think that you guys have a rocky relationship at the moment. Besides, you can barely stand and your arm looks like it’s seen better days. I can help you.. if you let me.”

Rujia barely heard him, concentrating on the pain in her shoulder. What had her trainers said? Deep breaths, keep your heart rate down, focus on something else - your mission. Right. Right… by the time his words had sunk in, he had stopped their slow progression, turning to stare her in the eyes.

“Hey, are you alright? Don’t zone out on me now.”

He was worried? Fine, she could work with that.

“Yeah.. I, I’ll come with you,” she responded slowly, blinking several times. Her compliance wasn’t easy to fake at this point.

He stared at her for a second more, worry lining his face. She studied him, the intense look in his green eyes, at the faded freckles running alongside the bridge of his nose, the tight line of his lips as he asserted that she could make it wherever they were going. Right then and there, against everything Imperial Intelligence had taught her, she decided to trust him. For the time being.

“I’m Carmois,” he grinned, finally deciding she wasn’t about to try and run.

She offered a tight smile in response,

“Aria.”

[alyssnighthawk]

‘Fictober18, Day 2

Prompt: “People like you have no imagination”

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic

Rating/Warnings: General / no warnings

Never let Zamrise near droids again. 

-

Rujia pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing for the upteenth time that Imperial Intelligence had sent her on this mission solo, or at least had anticipated the Republic’s interference. Sure, she had no issue working with their Barsen’thor, a young girl named Ja’lane Ravine, but kneeling next to her feet was one… no, scratch that.. at least three issues.

Captain Zamrise Rye had salvaged one of the droids laying in a heap near the entrance to the Directive 7 Assembly Chamber. The droid’s chassis was pried open, and Zamrise’s hands were deep into the tangled wires as he muttered directions to himself. Rujia blew out an exasperated breath, crossing her arms.

“Mr. Rye, this is taking far too long. We could’ve easily sliced the door open by now.”

Zamrise flashed a cheeky grin in response.

“Why Miss Fothe, where’s the fun in that?” he exclaimed, digging back into his work, “Besides, who knows how many alarms we’d trip.”

“It’d take less amount of time to disarm said alarms than it is with you fiddling with that piece of trash,” she frowned, watching as he uncrossed the same wires for the fifth time in a row.

“Ah, leave him alone, Kotrana,” Carmois called from the entryway where he was keeping watch. “He just wants a new friend since a certain somebody is still rejecting his courting attempts.”

Rujia hid a smile behind her hand (because Kotrana Fothe had to be professional, definitely not because she found the banter amusing), watching Zamrise’s lekku twitch with irritation, turning a deeper shade of pink than he already was.

“Mr. Devora, are you suggesting our captain here hasn’t been able to seduce a lucky woman with his obvious charm?” she interjected smoothly before he could retaliate.

“Oh, plenty. Just not the one he wants,” Carmois chuckled.

Zamrise muttered a few choice words towards his friend before he froze, his face lighting up with excitement as he crossed several wires over each other and tucked them behind the main motor. He closed the chassis, popping the restraining bolt off as he turned the droid back over.

“Hunter!” he called, “Toss me that datapad on the console behind you.”

Rhina Vhea glared at him from her position as she leaned against one of the processing cores. She had adopted that same pose a lot during Rujia’s time working with the bounty hunter while serving Darth Malgus in his hunt for Darth Revan. It was one of disdain and indifference, and Rujia hid her surprise as the hunter detached herself from her post, scowling.

The datapad skidded along the ground, followed closely by a few phrases in Mando’a that Rujia didn’t have to translate to know the meaning of.

“There’s no way this is going to work,” Rhina muttered as she joined the group. Rujia was inclined to agree with her.

“Ye of little faith!” Zamrise exclaimed, “People like you have no imagination when it comes to the magic of droids. Watch and learn.”

He entered a command into the datapad, beaming as the droid jerked in response, joints whirring as it slowly stood up. For several seconds, the droid ran tests on each of its systems, and, satisfied with the results, turned to face Zamrise.

“Perfect!” Zamrise exclaimed, “Now say, ‘Captain Rye is the best ever,’” he ordered, typing into the datapad again.

The droid’s vocabulator hummed, as if trying to remember how to speak, when there was an audible click, then…

/If it hadn’t been for cotton-eyed Marr,

I’d been a Jedi a long time ago.

Where’d you come from?

Where’d you go?

Where’d you come from, cotton-eyed Marr?/

“TURN IT OFF!!,” Rhina screeched, hands covering her ears as the wretched song burst from every speaker in the room as the droid continued onto the next stanza, eyes glowing red.

/If it hadn’t been for cotton-eyed Marr

I’d been a Jedi a long time ago./

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?” Zamrise shouted over the piercing music, fingers flying desperately over the datapad.

/Where’d you come from?

Where’d you go?

Where’d you come from, cotton-eyed Marr?/

Rujia was about to draw her blaster and shoot the droid herself before a robed figure dropped from the vents above, lightsaber flashing as the droid’s head severed from its body. Other pieces of the droid soon littered the floor as the Barsen’thor stood up.

“There’s no need to torture us with that screeching droid,” Ja’lane chided as she extinguished her lightsaber, “There’s an open vent that drops directly into Mentor’s chamber that bypasses the forcefield.”

Zamrise’s gleeful expression fell as he stared at the now ruined (again) droid at his feet.

“After you, Master Jedi,” he sighed, for once having no retort. Carmois clapped his shoulder in mock sympathy before following Ja’lane.

He’s actually mourning that monstrosity, Rujia realized with amusement as she tailed behind the ragtag group. Maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be a dull mission after all.