#jetpacking

[empressxmachina]

big spoon cuddling

r/wholesomememes - big spoon cuddling

6,439 votes and 80 comments so far on Reddit

[divinecatchaos]

And just for the person who referred to Weiss being the big spoon to Pyrrha as “jetpacking”...

[kaasknot]

Commander Fox Week Day 2: High-speed Chase

Teen and Up

Gen

Fox, Thire, OCs, Jetpacking shenanigans, Police dickery

@loving-fox-hours

***

Fox walked through darkness, but he didn’t turn on his helmet spots. Up ahead was the pure white glow of arc lights; they were more than enough to illuminate the duracrete tunnel he was in. “Head’s up,” he said over private comms. “Incoming in one.”

“Oya, sir,” Thire replied. “Gonna show us how it’s done?”

“It’s been a long time since jetpack training.”

Thire’s snort came through Fox’s outputs in a burst of static. “Don’t even try to pretend you can’t outfly us.”

The glow of the lights brightened, increasing to almost unbearable intensity after the darkness of the tunnel, until Fox found himself at the edge of a man-made cliff of duracrete. Massive columns rose twenty stories high, marching into the shadows; the far wall, though there was one, was so distant that the lights couldn’t reach. In the center of this cavernous space, flecks of red and white rose and fell through the air, spurred on by short jetpack bursts. Thire stood beside him on the edge of drop-off, supervising.

“Welcome to the sewer, Commander.”

Fox smiled, safe in privacy of his bucket. “Thank you, Thire. Anyone turf it, yet?”

“Dash came close. He’s not great at recovering after a stoop.”

Fox observed for a while, listening intently, but he didn’t hear any external calls. “Are you on company channel?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Patch me in.”

“Ooh, is it COMSEC sneaking time?”

“Big brother’s always listening,” Fox said, deadpan, and Thire chuckled as he hopped the frequency to Fox’s bucket. Chatter poured in: movements, angles, plans of attack; swift and clear. Fox had heard what CorSec called comms discipline, and it couldn’t hold a candle to Kaminoan training.

But there was always room for improvement. Fox picked his targets, then easy as letting go, he stepped off the edge of embankment.

Breathless freefall. Not as far as a HALO jump from Coruscant’s spires into the abyss, but enough to get the blood pumping. He opened thrusters a second before he would have been bug squash on the bottom of the diversion channel, then he was rocketing upwards toward the training group.

“Bravo one, we’ve got a bogey incoming, vector 2-3-9!”

Too late. Fox burst through their formation, tagging no less than three IR sensors “dead.” Izzy was sloppy on the regroup; as Fox had predicted. He tackled him in midair, knocking him out of formation and pinning him against one of the massive columns that supported the storm drain ceiling—as well as however many unfathomable tons of city on top of it. Izzy flailed; Fox didn’t give him time to fight back, springing back into the fray before gravity caught him. If Izzy couldn’t recover from a takedown like that, he’d deserve the compression fractures he got.

“Bravo one, bogey is hostile, repeat, bogey is hostile!”

They tried to outflank him, but even regrouped they were slow to act. Confused. They had altitude on him, but their hesitation bought him time to cartwheel over the left wing’s head and kick the emergency stop on his jetpack. He plummeted like an 80 kilo trooper wearing 40 kilos of armor.

Fox knocked two more out of commission before he called ENDEX. The survivors trailed after him to the drop-off, where Thire waited with his victims.

“Okay, shinies,” he said, popping his lid and breathing in the cool, musty scent of Coruscant’s underbelly. “What did we learn?”

“Never piss off Commander Fox,” one brave victim said, answered only by a few nervous chuckles.

Fox kept his expression stern. “Wrong. If you were smart, you learned to expect the unexpected. Policing Coruscant isn’t flying pretty loopdies in a storm sewer. You will be facing real people, some of whom are fucked in the head, some of whom hate your guts, and many of whom are operating two ton speeders or blasters that can nail you in the eye from a thousand meters. We’re not infantry, but that doesn’t mean we’re not in a warzone. Oya?”

“Oya, sir.”

Fox nodded sharply, then turned to Thire. “Your show, Commander Thire.”

“Oya, Commander.”

Fox turned back down the tunnel, shoving his bucket back over his head. They weren’t infantry, but they were still soldiers. They’d do well.

***

A/N: I based Coruscant’s storm sewer system off G-Cans, Tokyo’s flood drainage system (thanks to @tiender for telling me about it)

[shawnlenore]

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[nailbats]

HIGHLIGHTS FROM MCRCHICAGO!!! shakes my fist that i didnt get the Chicago exclusive shirts 😭😭😭

[nailbats]

my weekend so far is new hair and new tattoo 😎🤩💕

[nailbats]

DID MY FIRST ARTIST ALLEY!!!!!! SO FUN!! MADE NEW ART FRIENDS!! Love supporting other artists, this is what art is about

[nailbats]

smth self-indulgent: made a sticker to pass out for free at my first artist alley event on Sat to promote my webcomic that will be released late December online! So I’m hightailing all my website making this week LOL

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