Hey this was super fun to start thinking about and getting into. It’s a real formative time for Eva.
Thanks so much for the collab @damarlegacy and for allowing me to borrow Rax for these!
The first time he heard of Coruscant was when his brother Talcyn came home from bombing it in the war. A chaotic skyscape of sun, smog, and skyscrapers, is what he had said with a confident sneer that Evacios could still see in his mind’s eye. Now standing in the spaceport looking over the same sky that his brother had flown under the day of the Sacking, he could finally say with full confidence he agreed. Squinting in the sunlight, the sky was a rich gradient of golds and burned coppers, due no doubt to the pollution in the atmosphere. It was probably majestic to others, but being able to see over the gaudy Senate plaza full of a skyline of construction cranes and glass, and Evacios couldn’t help but bristle with disdain.
“First time in the capital, ey?” a man said, sidling up beside him like it was his every right to do so. People of the Republic generally had a base familiarity in their social interactions - which is no doubt why he thought he could just come up and talk to him without any preamble. He swallowed his pride and put on a smile.
“Yeah! Yeah, it’s quite a view,” he heard himself say. No trace of any accent beyond the smallest lilt of a Mantellian one borne of Intelligence speech classes and at least a hundred hours of internet holovids. Best to get in practice where he could, he had to do everything in this accent for the foreseeable future, and a quick glance to his compatriot saw not even a batted eyelash from the older man. “Can’t believe I made it.”
“Enjoy it, kid,” he said. The stranger was about to pull away before a second thought nearly visibly flashed over his weathered face. “And hey, welcome! To the beating heart of the Republic.” A friendly smile, a clap on his back, and he waited until Evacios nodded in acknowledgement.
“Thanks a lot. I intend to.”
A tagged taxi drive to an affordable hotel where he was going to have to stay for a few days while he searched for an apartment to live. After taking the time to thoroughly look over the room for any sign of surveillance he set his singular bag onto the side. The hotel had the basic amenities to it, as did the room, but he was a long way away from the luxury of home that was to be sure. Not that it really mattered, the job came worse and any suburban landscape - even Coruscant - was better than the places he’s bunkered down in. It was almost a bit liberating, to not have to worry about the need of esteem and fashion. He passed the hotel’s bar and restaurant and started walking to the office. He’d see how he felt about being free of the burden of society in a week.
He had a name, a street address, and an office number on a singular email a couple of weeks back. The building itself was fairly nondescript, the bottom was a normal office building, receptionist and all. The young man pointed the way towards the stairs - sorry the elevator was out of service - and Evacios started making the climb all the way up to the seventh floor. He caught the surveillance cameras out of the corner of his eye, careful to keep his head down and watch his steps up instead of back at the camera as he finally got to the seventh floor and pushed open the door.
The floor itself only had a singular hallway, five doors on each side with a mailbox for each, enough space for just some modest small business office spaces. Nothing special and that was on purpose. He decided against looking winded from the trek up, the SIS had his “file” and knew his history.
Kestas Canis, born in a small town on Ruan, stationed on Ord Mantell, career soldier, and made Sergeant. Was a candidate for Special Forces but instead of going into military, was transferred into SIS instead. Good marksmanship scores, smart soldier, with a little something-something that made him a good candidate for the SIS. It was enough to give him this chance - give Intelligence this chance. Now he just had not not fuck it up especially with the constant reminder of his deception right front and center. At least to him.
For show he checked the ink on his hand where he wrote down the office number and then wiped his hands together to get rid of the ink. Using the door panel next to it, the gray metal door slid open and he stepped through. Inside was a small waiting room, a small seating area, a desk with a young man behind it. He was clean, fresh faced, nice looking enough to catch someone’s interest but fairly forgettable. Three doors, a side office to the right, another to the left, and one directly behind the desk of the secretary. There was also a very, surprisingly nice, aquarium with some tropical fish along one wall, coupled with a table with holopads along it. It was deceptively normal, beyond the fact that he was given this address in the first place, his gut told him this place was inherently off. The young man looked up from his holodisplay expectedly at him with a piercing brown gaze. This was definitely the right place.
“Sorry, am I in the right place?” he asked. The secretary looked a little nonplussed as he looked to his computer once, then back up.
“Sergeant Canis?” he said and Evacios nodded, making a note to straighten out his navy sports jacket as an “afterthought” before straightening to present himself. “Through this door,” he said without any preamble, gesturing to the door behind him.
“Thank you, thank you so much,” he offered. The receptionist widened his eyes and tightened his lips in recognition of it but clearly had no time to regard him any further. There was just the smallest of second glances. Maybe he was also trained in some sort of personnel training, or maybe he really was just an annoyed receptionist. Either way, he moved past the young man and opened one door into a small entryway with another door just a couple of feet past. A red light was by this second door until the first door closed. It flashed green and he pressed the corresponding touchpad button.
Then things made sense.
Inside was a much larger room than he expected, a corner desk on one side with a full on archive behind it and an impressive holodisplay for the desk’s built in interface. On the other side of the far wall was a full floor-to-ceiling grid of displays, all of them showing a different scene, all of them showing active feeds. He could quickly identify more than a few in Nar Shadda, some probably around either Coruscant and Corellia - but it was impossible to ignore the person in the room any longer than that. Sitting on the edge of his own desk, a man who maybe had half a foot and forty pounds on him sat straight backed, arms and ankles crossed. Dressed in military khakis wearing Major stripes on him with a flash of defiant blue in his tawny brown hair.
He read the write up on Major Cyrus Rax on the way over, all that Intelligence had on the official stuff he had done, things he committed, things he admitted to, and rumored skirmishes with the Empire as well as official ones. But he hit into the wall of his hard blue gaze and small scowl and stopped dead. He couldn’t help but smile, unbidden. Showtime.
“You better be Kestas,” he said gruffly.
“Yes, sir,” he said, and straightened like he was going to stand to attention. He saw the pained look and rub of his chin from Rax.
“Y’know, calling me ‘sir’ anywhere except this room would get us both fuckin’ shot. So don’t. I’m your handler, not a CO,” he got to his feet. Maybe he was unconscious of the fact that he was an imposing figure or maybe he did keep that in his back pocket, Evacios wasn’t sure what to make of him quite yet. “We good?”
“Yes, s-” he purposefully caught himself and tucked his hands into his pocket, taking the chance to take another scan of the room. “-So what do I call you, then?”
“Rax. Major. Papi. Whichever.”
“Well if ‘sir’ is suspicious, wouln’t ‘major’ be too? Some random sergeant getting orders from a random major?” he laughed a little nervously but then quickly shut up and showed his hands sheepishly. “I’ll, um, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Shut up, some people have nicknames. But, let me tell you something. Real heart-to-heart,” he actually turned from him at this point, walking around his desk, Evacios noted his favored side. There was a rumor with a fight that came to mind but he’d have to look into it later. In the meantime the burnmarks on the side of his neck were oddly purposeful - letters? High Sith was always hard to recognize out of context. “Try-outs are slow, boring, and belong on the Huttball field. When you come into my fucking office, I need to not be commanding you, I need someone to take initiative. Can you take initiative Kes or are we both standing around with our dicks in our hands wasting each other's time?”
“What’s the mission, Rax?” he said simply, lips lifted just a touch into a smile. The bluster either how he just was or designed to put the fear of command in him. Either way, Rax leaned over his desk and gave a contemplative nod.
“Don’t be smug about it,” he handed over a datapad from a drawer. “Addition to that?” He sank a digit against the screen and pushed it a bit, Evacios took the hint and he gathered it up before it got to the edge. “I’m gonna need you to slice the surveillance of the neighborhood, make sure I know about it first if you make a mess. You understand.”
“Absolutely, anything else?” Evacios asked.
“Yeah, if you don’t do it? We can find you a nice analytical post on Quesh. Now get out, thanks, my soap opera’s about to start,” he stood back and fell back into his seat. Resting his hands laced on his stomach, he propped his feet up on his desk as, from behind, a title of some novella came up on the desk’s display. He tipped the datapad toward Rax and tucked a hand into his denim pants as he turned and started to read it. “And give it to Jones in the front when you’re done.”
He gave a two finger salute over his shoulder, edged around a Nautolan woman with an armful of similar datapads that he quickly looked over. Aqua skin, white markings, lithe, and maybe looking a little pissed. He offered a smile and nothing more as he waited for the lights to change from red to green on this quick series of doors. By the time he was out the second door he could confidently hand it back to “Jones”, the receptionist, and simply continue walking.
Harmless, maybe a bit of a shit, perhaps stepping into shoes too big for his feet just yet, he hoped he conveyed that image well enough so far. He could stand to develop the character more later as time moved on and he got “used” to spy work. Until then, harmless he hoped he remained.
Well, seems even here the Intelligence agencies policed their own. He just didn’t know he’d get into messing with Coruscant Security so soon.
Did you all know that @b-e-m-l-t and I met when she caught me a butterfly net flitting around and adding to a nsfw week? And a friendship was forged. One of my fav trash children, her Cyrus Rax.
Edit: fixed the head shape a little but it’s already out there!
Happy patch day, my character Cyrus is a Garlean in FFXIV :) 🍾
The lighting and pose in this piece were referenced from a Leyendecker painting, because Garlemald is a delicious blend of dieselpunk and fantasy deco.
Slips "“You’re hot when you’re mad.” into ur prompt box
Anger had still been burning high in her system when she made the text through the secure network, but Caspira doubted that particular burn would ebb anytime soon. She’d always been good at nursing anger, using it to cover the emotions that were a little bit harder to face head on. A meet in Nar Shaddaa, easy enough. A note at the end to clarify that it wasn’t an emergency so that when Rax showed up - and he would - it wouldn’t be with guns blazing or a medbag in tow.
He ambled into the cantina just as she was clearing out a seat for him; some hopped up twi'lek who thought the empty seat next to her meant she was looking for company. He’d have a good reminder why it was important to remember one’s manners up until the black eye healed. Laughing at the unfortunate twi'lek as the junkie scuttled out the door behind him, Rax moved to the empty seat just as Caspira dropped herself gracelessly back into the one she’d been keeping warm for a few hours.
“Somebody’s in a mood. What’s wrong, Empire cut down your allowance?” Settling himself comfortably at the bar next to her, Rax hooked his fingers around the neck of her beer bottle and slid it free of her grasp. Her hold lingered, hard and stubborn, for a split moment before giving it up.
“Come on Rax, I’m freelance now.”
“Bullshit,” His laugh still managed to lift a corner of her mouth in a smirk. “But sure, why not. I trust you.”
“I trust you too, explicitly.” Her answer was dry but concise and the wary tightness in his shoulders vanished once their challenge and password was complete. There would never be trust between them, but it was also something she’d never volunteer unless the situation was free of looming danger.
Rax nodded in satisfaction and tipped the bottle back for a swallow. And then glared at her in disgust. “This is warm.”
“It is, yes, your powers of observation are astounding. Cold one on me though.” Her hand dropped atop the bar once she’d signaled the bartender, folding tightly over the other in a white-knuckled grip. The look she cast his way still had undertones of repressed emotion, anger tingling through her nerves as she stole the bottle back from him and dropped it noisily on the ground. It shattered, splattering his boots with warm froth.
“What the shit, Cas, seriously.”
“I’m just…” Frustration had her cutting the sentence off before she could finish it, molars grinding. “Having a bad day.”
“No shit. Somebody yanking your leash again?” Twisting the cap from the cold bottle of brew as it was delivered into his hands, he took a swig and kept needling. “Cybernetics in a bind? You’re acting like somebody kicked your varactyl. Whatever it is, you’re gonna talk about it though because I didn’t haul my ass all the way out here just to get my boots ruined.”
“They’re not ruined.” Drawing in a breath, she abandoned the slump-shouldered slouch against the bar to prop her elbow up, turning to angle her shoulders toward him. “I don’t want to get into detail about it it’s just…” As odd at it was to be spilling her guts to somebody that always been on the other side of the fence idealogically, she shoved down the urge to clam up. She could talk to Rax. Even if it might earn her more ridicule. “Jean and I are…” A shrug, hand slicing through the air.
Rax stared at her a moment as if to gauge the sincerity of her statement before giving her another nod, palm slapping against the bar table. “Good.”
“Good!” Outrage shimmied through her, the red core of her cybernetic eye flashing.
“Fuck Cas, yes. Good. Look at your history!” Aiming a finger in her direction, he gave it a good shake. “Different sides of the damn galaxy, forget different sides of the road. So you left him, or he left you. Good! You almost kill him again, or what?”
Color rose to her sharp cheekbones, anger thinning her lips into a flat, disapproving line. “You’re an asshole, I don’t know why I even called you.”
“You called me because I’m an asshole.” And yet he reached out, hooking fingers about her wrist when she moved to stand. “Calm down, look. I know you’re pissed, but this is probably for the best.”
If anything the gentle platitudes made her more angry and she did rise, stepping into him to twist her fingers in the loose collar of his jacket and tug. Head tipped back to grin up at her, he squeezed her wrist. Hard.
“Shit Cas, you’re pretty hot when you’re mad.”
And despite everything, she managed a laugh but kept her grip on his collar, lowering her face until they were eye to eye.
“And don’t you forget it, Rax.”
Smiling as he dropped his hand from about her wrist, he moved it to her face instead. Fingers traced the hard set of her jaw, resting on her cheek for a moment before he used the quick splay of fingers across her scarred features to give her a playfully rough push away. Her head rocked back with a muffled laugh.
“Hey, it’s shitty when this sort of thing happens but you guys are more off-and-on than traffic lights.” He shrugged amicably as Caspira settled back into the seat next to him, still angry but no longer raging. “But hey, I’m a stand up kinda guy. I’ll hold him down while you beat him up. Don’t say I’ve never done a thing for you.”
Caspira has Complex Thoughts about Rax. On one side he’s a Republic soldier through and through with the ideals and values that come with such. It’s taken her a while but she sees where his priorities are and how they tie into his life and has more or less figured out where he stands in her world as well. He should be an enemy, but he’s really not. Even if she was aware that he was back in the SIS (and she might be!) it wouldn’t change their dynamic, it would only change the public nature of it.
He’s a good guy, easy to prod and poke and needle and she does love to do those things. But he’s also super loyal to his cause and even more loyal to his friends and she’s like.. frenemy #1. So she sorta trusts that he’s not gonna try to kill her or get her caught. On the flipside, she will more or less bend over backward for people that actually trust her (and Rax does “trust” her but he also trusts her to be who she is) so he gets the same treatment. Imp Cipher she might be, be he is strictly off the books. Rax trusting her to be who she is also plays into that. He knows she’s terrible and doesn’t expect her to change and it’s nice if a bit grim, to be accepted as the monster you occasionally are.
Caspira likes Rax. He’s big, he’s loud, he’s noisy, he’s super full of life and gives no shits. He’s somebody that she occasionally wishes she could be, so living vicariously through him is fun for her. She can and has asked him for help, and he’s given it to her. They’ve broken one another’s noses. And he will let her invade whatever secret crash pad he has and that she knows about, to recover from her life. But he also judges the shit out of her, and she does the same to him.
If they were on the same side, shit would be crazy I bet!
We all have a favourite OC. A character that has a special place in our heart. Out of all your SWTOR, Bethesda, BioWare, DnD and other realms characters, which one is yours?
I thought this was going to be hard, but it was not. It was between 3, but I only got the energy to draw 1 rn so its gonna go to my boi Cyrus Rax.
SWTOR, Republic military, big, loud, bold, broken nose, bi, married, father of 2, held together with cybernetics, and a crackshot with a rifle at 2k. Got misinterpreted pretty often by characters and players, but hes got some hella friends, and a large semi-tame pig roaming around his house on Alderaan. I miss writing him a lot.
All My Circuits was on the HoloTV. The couch cushions contained burger crumbs from the Weenie Hutt Jr.‘s they had earlier. Tex was still eating his fries on one end of the sofa, Cyrus leaned up, chin on hand at the other.
“Not soon enough,” Came the smaller, hatted hunter’s reply.
“Well I’m fuckin’ bored.”
The leather creaked and squealed as the muscled freeloader slid himself closer. It all happened so fast…
He grabbed Tex’s hat and held it over his head. An angry Tex scowled as he reached up to grab it, but couldn’t reach.
Just like his hat, Tex, too, was grabbed with the other large paw. Brought closer.
…Closer still.
It was almost slow-motion to him, but Tex’s thoughts were hyperspacing away where he continued to wonder why Cyrus hadn’t let go yet. Was this going to be a fight? Were they gonna have to throw down, right here, right after lunch?
And then lips. Full, wet, surrounded by itchy stubble.
Large, onion-breathed mouth enclosed over the other.
And…was that a tongue?
Yes. Yes it was. There were no words any longer. Only the longest, wide-eyed pause he would ever experience in his entire blink of a life in this galaxy. Then it got worse.
“Hey, sorry I took so long guys, some Trandoshan was trying to sell me insur–”
