May 23
I love drawing faces yippee!!
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I love drawing faces yippee!!
the second story of my second series for the chimaera adventures
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The best medicine from @shards-of-silver
Pyrondi: Ship Social Director (2371 words) by PierceTheVeils Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carvia/Pyrondi Characters: Pyrondi (Star Wars), Hammerly (Star Wars), Eli Vanto, Karyn Faro, Lomar (Star Wars), Carvia (Star Wars), Chimaera Crew Members (Star Wars), Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Wutroow | Kiwu'tro'owmis Additional Tags: Inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), marshmellows, Games, Ficlet Collection, Light-Hearted, Drabble, Medbay, light shippiness, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Women in the Military Summary: A drabble/ficlet series featuring our favorite weapons officer bringing cheer to the Chimaera.
Being sick, having surgery, recovering from the surgery, heading back in because of an encapsulated infection, hospitalized again, coming back out and needing a wound nurse once a day - it sucks. But fluffy goodness with my favorite character is just what the doctor ordered. Thank you @shards-of-silver, for such effective meds.
Why nobody wants to play Scrabble with Pyrondi and Thrawn
"Q-U-E-E-F. Queef. That's a triple letter and a double word score-"
"Pyrondi. I admittedly am not a native speaker of Basic, but I sincerely doubt that is an actual word."
"I assure you, Admiral, that it most certainly is. Isn't it, Vanto? I can even conjugate it. Queef. Queefed. Queefing-"
"I am going to fucking strangle you, Pyro. You always do this. Stop laughing, Hammerly."
"Then what does it mean, Commander Vanto? Are you unwell? you're turning that color again-"
The Card Game at the End of the Galaxy.
They got the Lady as repaired as one could hope. The damned whales apparently used the refined Clouzon fuels to come back here to die after spawning. The Chimaera's crew had been too busy dying or with damage control to see the beasties having it off in hyperspace. Grace and Little Gods only knew if she'd hold together making the jump, but with the materials of other crashed ships, they'd been able to put her back together.
Shipwide Communication: All Hands
"Lesbains of the Chimaera, what is thy wisdom?"
Pyro's Pyrotechnic Love Life - Chapter 3
For @contentment-of-cats. Also on AO3.
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Evergreen Forest, Krownest
“Actually, how did you two meet?”
It’s been two hours since Artur left, two hours since a Mandalorian wearing the most colorful armor she’s ever seen stripped his weapons and took him away in stuncuffs.
Sabine Wren, Sundari Academy defector and Phoenix Squadron’s weapons expert, took him away in cuffs.
Yana’s been keeping herself busy by helping with digging a trench for shelter and fortifications in case the Wrens decide to go for violence and rigging the Disciple’s databank with a generous amount of dentons. That and casual conversation. Odo’s question caught her attention, and she took a moment to decide if answering it now would cause her anxiety to show.
To Sith hell with it. Everyone here was family to her, anyway.
“Uh… he had to attend a full year at Royal after they left Terra, General Tagge’s orders. Apparently jumping straight from Lieutenant to Major required some extra leadership training.” A few chuckles. “Anyway, he was there my final year. We met in Professor Partagaz’s Criminal Psychology class. We got to know each other in the sparring ring and on the range, though. He went back to batt the day after Jashin and I commissioned.”
A smile crept onto her face at the memories, pushing the anxiety and stress back. The challenges, the banter, The Kiss, the sex.
Most of her paid leave for the next four years was spent taking his private shuttle to Coruscant or Spira or Bespin or wherever they could find real meat on the grill and a good, soundproofed hotel room. She loved being loud and a bottom and vulnerable with him, just like she loves doing it all with Yissa now. It was liberating, especially for someone with her upbringing.
“It was tough, you know?” Now that she was talking and comfortable doing it, everything started to spill unprompted. “Dating someone on the other end of the galaxy, working the jobs and the hours we did. But we made it work. We made it work for four years.”
Odo looked fascinated, Yissa was pointedly uncomfortable, Jashin knew all of this already, but it was Faro who asked the tough question. “Why did you two break things off? I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault, but he was crying his eyes out that night.”
“We both needed more than what a long-distance relationship can offer.” Pyro automatically used the same reply she gave Jashin back then before she registered the rest of what was said. “Wait, how did you know he was crying? We broke up at Tagge Manor.”
Now it was Faro’s turn on the backfoot. She obviously hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Um… uh…”
Her mentor was uncharacteristically nervous, stumbling over her words like a new ensign, and it took Yana a few seconds of staring before it clicked.
“OH SHIT!”
Everyone jumped back at the volume, and some snow fell from the branches above. Yana was looking at Faro with an unmistakable mixture of surprise and disgust, the galactic expression for when one finds certain people in certain… situations.
Everyone waited with bated breaths for Pyro to finally spill whatever it was she figured out. And when she finally did, it was with an appropriate amount of horror in her voice.
“You kriffed Cassio Tagge?”
Karyn reminds herself, yet again, to cram a filter somewhere in her mentee’s vocal functions. Maybe Thrawn can help.
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It took another two hours of huddling around and bundling together in their little tarp-covered trench, with Karyn suffering and refusing to acknowledge the bombardment of questions aimed at her, before Artur came back with a Gauntlet starfighter and an escort of jetpacked Mando troops, just before his self-appointed deadline. There was blood splattering his face and coating his fingers, snow in his hair, a blaster burn on his right bicep, and a burnt right gauntlet.
He held his head high despite the injury though, his weapons were back where they belonged, and there weren’t cuffs on his wrists anymore. Something was different about his escorts too. Their stances were no longer hostile, more professional and in some cases even a little deferential if you squint and look from an angle.
Beside her, Pyro must’ve noticed the same thing and came to some sort of conclusion, because Karyn heard her let out a surprised gasp followed by a string of very colorful words, in multiple languages to boot, that would’ve made Marinith proud and Thrawn tell her things about herself.
It wasn’t until her surrogate son lifted the tarp and told them it was time to go that Karyn noticed what Pyro must’ve earlier. There was a lightsaber on his hip. More specifically, the fabled Darksaber, last known to be in the possession of Sabine Wren.
That would explain the escort. The questions now, however, would be whether Artur had to commit sororicide to become Mand’alor, and what he was going to do with the title.
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Hydian Way, Hyperspace
Artur took a detour close to Mandalore and launched the saber into orbit. “Ni jor'naycir te dha kad'au bal te gai be Mand'alor. Vercopa te projor verda alorir”, he had muttered to himself, voice as flat as when he was Vader’s left hand, then punched in the coordinates for Cantonica and all but yanked the lever. He didn’t want, or need, the title of Mand’alor. Someone else can have it.
A collective sigh of relief was let out from the bundle of people behind him as the familiar warped lights of hyperspace flushed the cockpit a shade of blue. The troop bay on a Gauntlet wasn’t small by any means, but between the number of people and storage cubes, four of them ended up having to sit on each other’s lap. Of course, with two couples among them it worked out perfectly.
He spent the next two hours or so in silence, checking everything from the navicomputer to the engine readings with the precision and decisiveness of someone who gave Soontir Fel and Han Solo a run for their credits during dogfights at Cliffside.
It was a shame Solo deserted on Mimban. He was looking forward to getting the man back into the Carida flight program, or maybe Skystrike would’ve been a better fit. He was definitely good enough to fly for the Empire, maybe even with SCAR Wing One.
The cockpit door sealed shut as Pyro lean against his shoulder from behind. A hand trailed down to his chest in a comforting hug, and he instinctively covered it with his own, lightly squeezing and rubbing her calloused palm with his thumb.
Yana felt a mangled mix of emotions slam into her heart at the touch. Safety came first, then love. Peace. Vulnerability. Longing. Guilt.
She didn’t pull away.
“Did you…”
“No.”
“Are you still…”
“Not anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, Yana.”
…
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay.”
…
…
“It’ll crush you whether you talk about it or not, Artur. Better here and now than on the job.”
An acknowledging hum. Pyro knew the man well enough to leave it be.
“Does Faro know?”
…
“She does.”
“You told her?”
“Dad did.”
“Wasn’t his place.”
“It was, actually.”
“Says who?”
“Me. Gave him permission and everything.”
“Oh.”
…
“Still can’t believe they…”
A grimace from her. A chuckle from him.
“How’d you think we met?”
…
…
“Fair enough. Was it as gross for you as it is for me?”
“I’m in the Army, Pyro. Unit morale is basically contingent on sex, and we don’t usually have the privacy you sailors do.”
A deadpan and slightly confused stare.
“No, it wasn’t gross to me. They both liked each other, they both seemed to have enjoyed it, and it didn’t affect any careers, so I didn’t care either way.”
“Huh. Haven’t thought about it that way.”
“I can tell.”
A light smack on the head. “Asshole.”
A shared chuckle.
“In her defense he was quite charming back then, and…”
“I really don’t want to think about it more than necessary.”
“Fair enough.”
“Thank you.”
“Everyone else asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Not you though.”
“Wanted to check up on you.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The conversation lulled into silence from there, but neither of them minded it, Pyro content with leaning against the man who had once made her of all people happy at the thought of marriage, Artur content to keep holding her hand and rubbing her knuckles. It was a pale reflection of what they once had, but it was the best he’d get.
The navicomputer chimed, signally their imminent exit from hyperspace. With a noticeable amount of reluctance, Yana pulled her hand out from under his and made her way back.
Don’t say it, Tagge. For all that’s good and proper, don’t say it.
“You know, if it wasn’t for Hammerly, I would’ve asked if you wanted to try again, now that we’re posted on the same ship.”
Damn it.
Yana paused, her hand hovering above the door control.
“If it wasn’t for Yissa, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.”
She opened the door and walked away.
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Hyperspace Penthouse, 49th – 53rd Floor, Mon’t Car’l Tower, Canto Bight, Cantonica
“So this is what owning a whole region of Space gets you.”
“No, this is what the War Mantle contract gets you.”
“Nah, this is Founder money right here.”
“Can’t be. The Hammerlies were Founders too, and they’re rich, but not this kriffing rich.”
“Tarkin has the one below us, though. Must be an exclusivity thing.”
“You say that like the Tarkins didn’t own Eriadu pre-Empire.”
Karyn and Yissa quietly found seats for their sore and tired bodies, letting the junior officers gush to their hearts’ content while Artur hauled their cubes into the kitchen. To be completely fair to the looies, it was one hell of an apartment. Curved, floor-to-ceiling transparisteel windows on either side and an open concept balcony allowed plenty of light into the living room and provided one of the most spectacular views any of them had ever seen, overlooking a glistening ocean as the dimming lights of sunset caught the waters just right.
Circular living rooms haven’t been in style since the Clone Wars, but this one walked the line between modern and classic and looking no less classy doing it. Couches, armchairs, and pouf couches lined the windows, balcony, and around the large wooden caf table, circular of course, placed in front of the fireplace.
Oh right, there was an actual fireplace here.
The circular, glass-bottomed infinity pool on the second floor led into a decorative waterfall down to the balcony that can double as a refresher, and there were lounge chairs and parasols nearby.
The kitchen was open, only separated from the living room by a marble island and the change in flooring from hardwood and plush carpets to polished stone tiles. Every kitchen appliance under any sun in the galaxy can be seen, sometimes more than once, and Artur had said that there were service droids available for restocking any foodstuff they wanted, whenever they wanted it.
Bedrooms lay spread across the five floors, and Odo joked that he could finally sleep soundly without the others’ ‘nightly activities’ disrupting him. Unfortunately, Jashin and Phyrre seemed to have taken that as a challenge.
“So, is this good or no?” Artur asked from the kitchen, a warm yet amused smile on his face as he watched the lieutenants acting like a clowder given a new shiny toy, which wasn’t all that far from the truth. Honestly, the behavior reminded him of getting Pyro that MM9 for their third anniversary.
Hammerly turned to him from the pouf couch, noticeably more relaxed. “Yeah, this is good.”
Her answer came out in breathy whispers, which got a giggle out of Yana as she curled up on her wyf’s lap, falling asleep in seconds as her daily allocation of manic energy is spent.
They came to Canto Bight for the nightlife, but tonight will be strictly recuperation, either physically or, in some cases, mentally. They have a month. They can waste a day.
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Medical Ward, Wren Stronghold, Krownest
Ursa hasn’t slept for two days, despite her son’s urging, despite her husband’s kind but sobering words saying that there was nothing she could’ve done. Despite that darasuum dar’manda and his cutting accusations.
Bridger sat on the ground next to her, meditating like the proper jetii child that she knew he wasn’t. Or maybe he was praying, she could never tell with his kind. Sabine floated in a bacta tank nearby, still unconscious from blood loss but breathing steadily through the respirator. Her left arm was preserved in a cryostasis unit next door along with her right leg. That demagolka had taken both in one fell swoop.
The older jetii was working with Tristan and Captain Syndulla to look for methods of reattaching limbs. Right now, their best lead was the neuropathic connectivity research conducted by the Kaminoans to install inhibitor chips and fix ‘defects’ in their clones. The three of them were enroute to salvage whatever remained of Tipoca City. The Lasat was venting his anger by sparring her guards into the ground, and Ursa could’ve sworn she heard the droid listed at least fifteen different war crimes in a plan to exact revenge. She might just help out.
But first, she had to address the accusations to Sabine when she wakes up. How do you tell your until-recently estranged daughter that she wasn’t your first child?
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Canto Casino, Canto Bight, Cantonica
Vacation Day 5. Leave remaining: 30 Days.
At this rate, he’ll have four billionaire crewmates instead of just the one by the time they get back shipside. Jashin was afraid to even think about what they’d do with that much money.
It’s been going on like this for the past four days. Artur supply the creds then loudly loses at a no-limits table to attract the high rollers, Yissa keeps track of the cards, Pyro comes in with her big, beautiful brain and wipe them out while Phyrre distracts the floormen in a shimmering dress that was extremely flattering on her. He’d be tempted to rip it off if it wasn’t more expensive than his entire career so far.
This must be entertaining for them, because so far they’ve wiped out every multimillionaire and billionaire at Tagge Palace, KDY Grand, and Coruscant InterGalactic.
All of them would be nursing lifetime bans from every casino on the planet if it wasn’t for the House of Tagge signet gleaming on Artur’s finger. As it were, no one has tried anything yet, but Jashin and Odo were watching from the bar just in case.
Faro has been joyfully on a bender the entire week they’ve been planetside, drowning in every combination of alcohol under the galaxy that wasn’t lethal for human consumption. Given the nature of her job, no one begrudged her the indulgence.
Artur had very thoughtfully left a stim, a few bacta pads, and some water by her bed after hauling her back the first night. He also left a bucket with a note saying ‘you deserve this’ and a smiley face. The bucket has proven itself incredibly useful every morning thus far, and they rolled a dice every day to see who’d have to empty it.
Back to the game though, Artur let out an exaggerated groan as he tossed his cards onto the table and walked off. Trohren Kuat grinned, happy to finally get one over a Tagge as he dumped his entire credit chit, twenty-eight million total, into the game. Time to wipe out this pretty little lass. Maybe he can offer her a chance to earn them back later. Taking Artur Tagge’s creds and the brat’s little bedwarmer would really make his night.
“What does Kuat have?” Odo asked in a whisper as Artur settled next to them at the bar, eyebrows raised in alarm as the man sighed.
“Either Pure Sabacc or nothing of value.”
“And Pyro?”
The sigh led into a predatory grin, the one even Thrawn has learned to be apprehensive of, as Pyro called and placed her cards down gently. “Idiot’s Array.”
The look on Kuat’s face was pure aurum, and Artur took the opportunity to mockingly toast the man from across the floor with a glass of Kuati gin. A raised eyebrow as the older man rose from his seat hostilely reminded both of them how KDY got such a good deal on their slice of War Mantle, and how easily they can lose it. He lost his father’s favor. He still had his aunt’s.
Artur turned to look at Pyro, smiling gently at the smug and gleeful expression on her gorgeous face as she transferred the eighty-million-credit pot into her chit and skipped to the bar.
The haul was now nine hundred million split four ways. Phyrre gets double on account of marriage, and Artur and Yissa were happy to hand over half their shares each.
“Great job, darling”, Yissa said as she glided up next to her wyf, planting a kiss on her lips now that Pyro can drop the act of being Artur Tagge’s trollop, part of their plan to hook Kuat in given the man’s inexplicable despisal of the House of Tagge, which worked like a kyber charm.
Pyro preened at the compliment and pulled her wyf back in for another kiss, a soft but blazing one that drew a few stares. It was unlike her, really, to be this brazen, but Yissa definitely wasn’t complaining.
“We should be going back. It’s late”, she breathlessly said. Yana nodded mutely.
Artur was the only outsider that recognized the love and lust in her eyes. First time he saw it when it wasn’t directed at him, though, and the realization made his gin taste sour instead of that familiar bitterness he was looking for.
Damn it. Why was this so hard?
“She’s right. It’s 0200. We should head back and catch some sleep before sunrise.” Artur did his damn best to keep any emotion besides joy and contentment out of his voice. Verdict’s still out on whether he succeeded.
With that, he downed the glass, tossed a 5000-credit chip onto the bar, and gestured for everyone else to follow. Odo hasn’t been drunk since making Junior Lieutenant, so he was the designated driver while Artur rode shotgun. Jashin already had Phyrre in his lap behind the driver and was using every last bit of self-control he had left to not take her then and there, taking the edge off slightly by starting a loud and heady make out session, both drunk out of their minds. Next to them, Yissa had Pyro in a similar position, just with more snuggling and cuddling than kissing.
Artur found his knuckles turning whiter by the minute on the armrests, and his heart was pounding in his ears. And if Odo noticed, he certainly didn’t comment on it.
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Hyperspace Penthouse, 49th – 53rd Floor, Mon’t Car’l Tower, Canto Bight, Cantonica
Vacation Day 7. Leave Remaining: 28 Days
Artur was suffering. That much he knew.
He also knew beforehand that being around Yana and not being with her would be a stab to the heart, but after a string of failures against a frustratingly elusive Saw Gerrera he needed an out from under Vader to keep his troopers safe, so when Tarkin gave him a choice between 1st Battalion staying with the 501st or reassignment to the Chimaera as an independent unit he took it, thinking that the wounds had healed.
No regrets on the choice, but he was a fool for thinking that he could ever move past Ilyana Pyrondi. Tagging along on this vacation was just unnecessary torture.
Maybe it was lackluster soundproofing, something he has been wanting to fix for a while, but Hammerly seemed to be extra loud these past few nights, and the twisting feeling in his heart was making it hard to sleep, so he’s been tiring himself out by painting his knuckles red with death stick dealers and spice peddlers in alleyways and taking an ice bath in the morning.
And now they were at the beach, and for the first time since learning how to, Artur Tagge didn’t want to swim.
Because swimming would mean getting close to a Pyro while neither of them had anything on beside skintight bathing togs. And while he immensely enjoyed the view, being in that particular situation, given the circumstances, wasn’t something he looked forward to.
It didn’t matter, in the end. Bright demeanor, easy smile, friendly banter. That was all he needed to do. When all was said and done, everyone present deserved a good, long vacation, and he refused to be the one to ruin it.
“You might want to unclench your jaw, Artur. Imperial benefits doesn’t include dental.”
The Tagge heir glanced towards Faro, who had just made herself comfortable on the bar two seats left of him, a multicolored drink (surprise, surprise) already in hand. There was a dreaded look of sympathy in her eyes, and Artur turned his head away, forcing his masseter to loosen as he took a large sip of Whyren's Reserve. He felt like drowning in alcohol today, might as well splurge on the good stuff.
“I know how hard it is, trust me, but at some point you have to move on.”
“There is no moving on, don’t you get that?” Artur snapped, seething. He hated the tone she used, the look in her eyes. He was a Tagge, damnit. Son of a General, nephew of a Baroness, heir to one of the wealthiest and most powerful dynasties in the galaxy and a kriffing war hero on top of that. Who was she to pity him?
He snuffed out that train of thought immediately as he glimpsed her wounded expression. She was just trying to care, and it was unbecoming to brag about himself like that, even in his own head. A deep breath helped to calm his racing heart and cool the heat in his blood. “I’m sorry.”
The tone he used was even more pathetic than he thought, and far more than he would ever admit to. A hand found its way onto his shoulder, riddled with old callouses that have softened after years of holding bridge command instead of intensive fieldwork. “Talk to me, Arty.”
“She’s the love of my life”, Artur muttered. It hurts, admitting that fact out loud, but this was Karyn Faro he was talking to, so he was safe. “I’m not being dramatic. I’ve put a lot of thought into it. She’s the one.”
Karyn sat there in stunned silence. She knew that when Artur loved, he loved passionately and unequivocally, but this was a completely different level. What should she say?
“And now you’re not with her anymore.”
Because pointing that out was the best option, Karyn. Good kriffing job.
Artur stiffened, swallowing a scathing sarcastic reply. His body loosened up once again as he leaned into her touch.
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Yana was conflicted, and that made her feel unthinkably guilty.
She was in an incredible relationship with an incredible woman that is Yissa Hammerly. She was loved. She was cared for. She was cherished and appreciated.
So why was her heart torn between loving this incredible woman and yearning for Artur Tagge? It made her feel filthy and disloyal.
Yana dunked her head under again, letting the cold water wash over her face in an attempt to clear her mind. She knew the feelings still lingered, what they had weren’t something one just moves on from, but she didn’t expect it to hit her like a cargo ship the moment she saw him again. She’d managed to mostly stay strictly friendly with him so far, but now he was so close.
Gah, this was why she hesitated to start things with Yissa. It wasn’t fair to her, but even after trying to warn her off by saying that she still wasn’t over her ex, Yissa still wanted to be with her, and that finally convinced Yana that a relationship with Yissa Hammerly was worth it. And it definitely was.
Yana had come to terms with the fact that she loved both Yiss and Arty in equal amounts, if for slightly different reasons. Now, she needed to choose.
Wait, maybe she didn’t.
A plan was beginning to form in Yana’s mind, more complex than any equation she’d ever tackled, one where she can get the best of both worlds. But if it failed, she’ll lose everything.
Now, where the hell is Jashin?
Two awkward military lesbians try, and Yularen gives the 96th Task Force their marching orders.
Click here to go right to the new chapter.
Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hammerly/Pyrondi (Star Wars) Characters: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Karyn Faro, Hammerly (Star Wars), Pyrondi (Star Wars), Lomar (Star Wars), Agral (Star Wars), Eli Vanto Additional Tags: shore leave universe Summary: Once upon a time, there was a bridge nerd and her name was Pyrondi. A tale of the bridge crew's early days.