It finally occurred to me to share my latest work here. 😆 This is not a new fic to me, but I've been sitting on it for a couple years and finally got around to posting.
It's set during Star Wars, TCW era, and features my OC Jedi baddie, Kalinda Halcyon, and the gooey marshmallow trapped by plastoid armor, OC clone Captain Stonewall. Plus, approximately a million other OCs with the occasional canon character sprinkled in for flavor. I also had a fun Republic Commando detour about half way into the fic, so eventually you'll see some of those characters stumble through. 😘
Here's a snippet:
The bacta bay was silent now. Stonewall entered the vast room, lit by the rows of bubbling tanks, each with a figure suspended within the pale-blue liquid. The clone captain’s leg ached a little, but the painkillers were doing their job, though his steps were slower than he liked.
Which seemed to be the theme of the day. He tried to ignore that thought, at least right now. He could brood anytime, but right now he had to find his men — and his general. She hadn’t said she’d be here, but Stonewall knew her habits.
Only a few medics were at work in the bacta bay now; most of the others were in the medbay proper, tending to the troopers who hadn’t warranted a tanking. The sickly-sweet scent of bacta hung in the air, sticking to the inside of Stonewall’s nose, and he almost replaced his bucket. Instead, he swept his gaze over each tank, noting the clone trooper held within. None of them were who he searched for. He continued down the rows.
As he went, he tried to focus on his Jedi general. Kali?
The silent call wavered in the void. Stonewall was obviously no Jedi and could not feel her presence the way she could his, but they were able to speak in this silent way. Apparently, Kali had spoken to others she…cared about, deeply, with this mind-speech, which made Stonewall feel a lot of different ways. It’d started months ago, during a mission to Florrum. By now, Stonewall had almost gotten used to the sensation of hearing his Jedi’s voice in his mind.
But she wasn’t answering now. The thought made his pace quicken and he tried again. Kali? Are you here?
You’re getting warmer, she replied, and he exhaled in relief, though it was short-lived. Though she spoke like the wry woman he knew, there was a frayed edge to the words, like she was barely holding herself together.
He paused to peer down the nearest row, then moved forward.
Colder, she sent. Turn left, then look right.
He did, and spotted her at once: a slight, dark-haired Human woman standing between two bacta tanks on the end of this row. Stonewall’s pace quickened as he met her, and he grimaced over the imbalance in his gait. Along with the myriad of cuts, scrapes, and burns he’d sustained on Gandowyne, he’d taken a blaster-bolt to his upper thigh. Bacta had worked wonders, but he’d have a limp for the next few days, at least.
Well, there were worse things.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/85804121/chapters/226789561
