Of Gods And Heroes:: Star Wars Verse - Tumblr Posts
@multitudescontained
Sparks gently fly as the tools between her fingers work to unravel the wires stuck in the long-dead android’s circuits. The scavenger sits quietly as cybertronic parts lay scattered across the floor among the tools needed for welding. Instead, they’re being used for dismantling the androids in an abandoned ship on the planet Utapu.
Utapu was once a place of war. Shimabukuro understood that much. It was also a place where unseen treasures could be found. She understood that very well. As she works she hears something. Tilting up, she stops welding to hear for the sounds again, realizing that she may not be the only one in this desolate ghost ship.
Shimabukuro sets her tools aside. If there’s another scavenger, then she has to protect the values she has. If its a stranger, then it’s all the more to worry about because the uncertainty can lead to dangerous situations she isn’t equipped for at the moment. She pulls off her welding mask, revealing avian features along with a missing eye.
Gathering what she has, she hastens to grab everything scattered across the floor, flinching any time the parts make noise, just to give off her location. She’s running out of time, but this ship has many nooks and crannies she can at least hide in. Provided the bracelets adorning her talons don’t give too much noise away.
@multitudescontained
Sparks gently fly as the tools between her fingers work to unravel the wires stuck in the long-dead android’s circuits. The scavenger sits quietly as cybertronic parts lay scattered across the floor among the tools needed for welding. Instead, they’re being used for dismantling the androids in an abandoned ship on the planet Utapu.
Utapu was once a place of war. Shimabukuro understood that much. It was also a place where unseen treasures could be found. She understood that very well. As she works she hears something. Tilting up, she stops welding to hear for the sounds again, realizing that she may not be the only one in this desolate ghost ship.
She halts when she hears a distant shot. Climbing out of the abandoned ship she’s in she pops up to inspect what it could be. She can’t see anything for miles for there was nothing but red sand. But the one sound was enough to indicate this place was no longer safe. That she had to leave so that she wouldn’t be next.
Disappearing back into space, she reemerges a couple moments later with everything she had with her. Jumping out onto the red sand, the instability of the sand pulling her in. From there, she makes the trudging journey through the red grains because her talons cannot grasp such loose footing.
Through the loose footing, she eventually climbs her way onto the red hills, hoping to gain sight of her ship. She sees her grey ship stand out against the red. But she looks around to figure out where the sound came from. She wants to make sure where it is so she can avoid it. She assumes either it’s someone blasting or someone being blasted. She didn’t want to find out for herself.
crimson red is all he sees, like bright blood staining crimson sands underneath a salt surface; he remembers Crait like he remembers his name, ingrained into him like an angry scar, vivid and defined- but this is all rough edges, all violence and dark memory.
he is stronger than this- a descendant of the Empire, a soldier of the Order, empowered by the memory of the Sith, he is stronger than this, and he will soldier on, come hell or high water, through anything the worlds have to throw at him, with the rusty taste of hot blood in his mouth and the sting of salted sweat in the wounds; he will always, always keep going, until the deeds are done.
so To hefts his blaster, drags himself up from the ground, ignoring his busted nose from where the butt of the rebel blaster smashed into his visor and knocked the tinted transparisteel into his face, and aims. squeeze the trigger, he tells himself, and shoots down the fleeing rebel. score.
She hears it again, only for them to continue many times. It it raises the adrenaline levels in her blood as a fear creeps in. Trying to calm down by breathing, her breaths only come out ragged. So she stops and tries breathing slower through her nose. Sliding across the sandy hills, she descends towards the hiding place that contained her ship.
The quicker she leaves, the less of a chance she won’t be seen. That way she couldn’t be shot at. That way she wouldn’t die on this planet. She should’ve taken that job instead of just scavenging here for valuable parts. But that’s in the past. She can’t think about that right now. She needs to think about getting out of here.
She didn’t see anyone before because they blended into the sand. The instant glimpse of crimson armor is enough to force Shima to hide behind a large piece of debris, out of sight. Now she’s at a crossroads of dead and life, all potentially decided at the next move.
Already she was grabbing something heavy from her bag of treasures, ready to throw and distract, running at the chance. Bad enough that this person from the First Order adding to the major trouble. She pauses when she hears a thud, a heavy one at that.
With the heavy object in hand, she slowly peaks out from her hiding place to inspect what had happened. She often heard of stories of soldiers of the First Order, immovable, with no fear, almost as if they were robots. After all nobody’s seen underneath their masks.Something didn’t add up to those stories, as they came in numbers with their monotone masks.
Moving slowly, she approaches the unmoving soldier. Grasping the blasters away from him using her talons she throws them away from reaching distance. Gently kicking the body checking for a sign of conscious function, a part of her is still screaming to run. Kneeling next to him, she tilts her head in curiosity. Nobody’s seen what a storm trooper looked liked beneath the helmet at the battles. Until now, as curiosity gets the better of her and gently she pulls the helmet off, wanting to know what was underneath that helmet.
“It’s that obvious?” She asked, chuckling a little as she returned his smile. He did look a little cute and she wasn’t even drunk. “I wouldn’t say I know everything though. There’s some that have to be learned. Experience counts for the tricks that can’t be learned easy.”
“Sometimes it takes me out of the fighting, away from that. So it hasn’t been that dangerous,” She added. She’s often trying to stay away from the fighting, into the quiet. Into the peacefulness even if it’s not forever. That’s one of the many things she liked about scavenging. Money was good too.
She did find it a little odd, that the topic of the rebellion against the first order was brought up so easily. She often found it best not to bring up a subject like that so early in a conversation. She personally didn’t like the fighting, relating to more of the rebellion. This fighting was no good for anybody, and nobody comes out the winner when everybody’s dead.
She keeps her drink in her hand, but doesn’t drink. She’s occupied with talking to this new stranger.
“What about you? What is it that you do? You from around here?”
Her eyebrows burrowed in confusion over this revelation...She slowly reached out and touched his face, only to find her fingers starting to coat with blood from the gashes on his face . Upon further inspection she realized that the crimson on her fingers was blood. Blood coming from a storm trooper.
She immediately backed up realizing that this was a person. A normal person, that could be seen in one walk of life or another. A person under the helmet of a deadly storm trooper. A storm trooper that bleeds just as anybody would.
She starts to get up to leave, to run away from him and get out of here just as she originally planned, but then she looked back at the bleeding person. She felt conflicted knowing this was a person, not a robot, an unmovable being that charged into battle fearlessly.
She decided against her better judgement to go back. Slowly tearing apart her cloak to make bandages she knelt beside him again, wrapping the bandages around his head and anywhere else that was bleeding. Maybe today her sympathy is what will get her killed today.
Taken aback, she's unprepared. She wasn't prepared for any of this, meeting one of the many in the First Order, offering her help to him, and now this; a thank you from a storm trooper. Today is turning out to be...unexpected. A lot of firsts for one thing.
“It’s no problem,” She calmly offered, scratching the back of her head. She’s kept a good feet of space between the two of them. It was somewhat close enough to keep an eye and monitor him, helping him in case he needed any.
“How’s your head?”
She inquired, concerned. She didn’t know how to deal with a red storm trooper like this. She wasn’t used to helping one either. She did what she could, having read from the old medical texts she had found on her trips. She found them interesting and useful. Though it didn’t cover any steps of fixing a cloak after ripping it apart to make bandages. She hopes she’ll find one that does though.
“Shima. Nice to meet you Ash,” She warmly smiled as she reciprocated the handshake with her left. Her full name was Shimabukuro Hotal. Shima was just shortened so as to save attempts on pronunciation, and to avoid any intentional botched attempts.
She holds up her drink taking a sip. The alcohol slowly seeps into the nerves of her body, loosening, calming her after all she’s been through. Even if it will result in a painful headache come the morning.
“Hope you find him. And when you do, that he learned to fix his mistakes already,” She added, unknowing of the person they speak of was To. The one she met on her travels. She sometimes she wondered how he was. She hoped he was doing far better the last time they met. Away from here, from the fighting.
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as a permanent fate. You’re right, they didn’t choose this life. But what if instead of fighting against that life, you use it to your advantage in helping them. Don't adapt to it, make it adapt to you. Use it to help others
“There’s always a place to go, you just don’t know what it is yet.”
“You know, Stormtroopers, they’re just… people. They don’t deserve to have to fight this war just because they were given to the Order, or taken by force, even. They deserve to be able to have lives of their own, like anyone does.”
“I chose this, though. I don’t have anywhere else to go, now. I’m stuck for life.”
“I’d be grateful if you did. It’s bound to happen whether it’ll be years or tomorrow from now. So what better way to learn now rather than later?”
“I appreciate his words, but I think you and I both know it will take more than words to keep me out of the harm that you and your stormtroopers will have to face. Or in fact everybody in this ship.”
It would be nice to learn a new way to fight. All she’d been used to using were her teeth and talons, the same ones covered, so as to prevent the scratching the smooth reflective floors that cover this ship.
“Well...Shit...”
As calmly as she says this, she’s equally scared now. She had known that the Dark side could take him to an edge and push him to a point of no return. There’s the chance th
“I'd understand if he was angry and wanted to ensure the Marcanos didn’t kill anymore, but the Hutts? They deal with everyone, and if there’s a chance they dealt with his killers...”
She stops a second shaking her head “I gotta go find him. Make sure he’s away from the edge. I don’t know how much the Hutts know to provide...but I bet they’ll do anything to keep him leashed.”
She started to gather her things and mentally makes a plan to go to Tatooine trying to figure out the fastest route there. Shima may not have known how to those responsible, but there had to be options. She knows Lincoln needs this, but she wants to make sure he has this the right way.
“You’re more than welcome to come, but if you don’t...I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Dividing and conquering? It’s worth a shot, so here’s hoping.”
She looked back at the one called Cody. Here was a man, no more than a remnant of a war that seemed like yesterday. A war that felt like it ended today, only to pave way for another that would bring an end to everything. In a way of uncertainty. Anytime the future seemed uncertain, somehow friends could be found to help through with the troubled times. For now, she sees Cody as a potential friend.
And she hopes with them, she can make sure Lincoln stays her friend. And she’s gonna need a lot of hope, because of the feeling that it may not be enough to help him. Walking to a shelf, she rummages through until she finds a blaster.
“In case, your lightsaber and Jedi tricks don’t work in certain situations.”
She says this as she tosses the blaster to Kenobi. A gift to a friend before they partake in journey of the unknown. She looks to Cody.
“You gonna be ok with all this?”
“Well…Shit…”
As calmly as she says this, she’s equally scared now. She had known that the Dark side could take him to an edge and push him to a point of no return. There’s the chance th
“I’d understand if he was angry and wanted to ensure the Marcanos didn’t kill anymore, but the Hutts? They deal with everyone, and if there’s a chance they dealt with his killers…”
She stops a second shaking her head “I gotta go find him. Make sure he’s away from the edge. I don’t know how much the Hutts know to provide…but I bet they’ll do anything to keep him leashed.”
She started to gather her things and mentally makes a plan to go to Tatooine trying to figure out the fastest route there. Shima may not have known how to those responsible, but there had to be options. She knows Lincoln needs this, but she wants to make sure he has this the right way.
“You’re more than welcome to come, but if you don’t…I’ll let you know how it goes.”
This wasn't supposed to happen in her head. She was about to speak up and suggest to maroon the captain on a desolate planet (When after all this blew over, she’d go back for him, sending him into the unknown with a new identity and the hope he’d escape).
But that could never happen as she saw a man die in front of her eyes. They widen with terror and shock. Her words are lost and for a moment she can hear nothing but the ringing. The ringing of the dead. The dread realization of what she has done then has led up to this. Something was wrong and she couldn’t breathe.
But there was no way to she would take part in this, Coruscant did not deserve this. There was a feeling starting to emerge, that she needed to stop this. The card of Wido needed to come to her. She was so concentrated on this feeling that she did not notice the card flying to her until it came near to her face, only catching it at the last second.
She looked over to Cole and Jzora, before looking back at To. This was someone she almost considered a friend, almost, had he not killed Widom and attempt to kill the people on Coruscant. She grabbed one of the blasters from the trooper before shooting the super laser with as many as she could before running off with the card.
Her ship was a few miles off from where she was. As a result, Shima did not prepare for the rain and had to create a makeshift raincoat made up of the huge leaves that inhabited the massive jungle. She promised herself a nice shower once she got herself out of here, with her trove of treasures she scavenged from the dead ships,
Getting out of the brush was no joke, the mud kept pulling Shima in and made her talons hard to grip. It was an endeavoring test not to trip over herself. Yet despite it all, Kashyyyk reminded her of her home in the summer of monsoons. The petrichor was always a welcoming smell in the morning and she could only imagine it would be the same here when the morning comes. Eventually, she arrived at a clearing in the middle of the forest.
Lifting her hood she looked up at the raining sky, as it washed any grime on her away. This place looked unfamiliar, and she wondered if she was lost. She wasn’t sure. She saw something in the ground and decided to pick it up with her talons before grabbing it with her hands, only to find out that it was a simple medium sized rock. Frowning, she shrugged and chucked it into the bush before walking towards a puddle opposite of the bush.
Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.
he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor…
breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead…
sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.
She whipped her head at the sound of sparks, growing concerned at the new thought that she is not the only one in these jungles. Talons now cleaned, she readied them as she balled up her left all black prosthetic arm into a fist, a sudden blade sprung out of the arm. The entire black prosthetic was cherished gift from her father, no longer of this world.
With her blade in hand, she slowly crept to the bush, determined to confront rather than run away, a sense that she had yet to develop in the extended life she has. She rationalized that if her blade didn’t do the trick, then perhaps her heavy bag of treasures would do the trick. That is if she could pull off the trick so to speak.
As she became close to the bush, Shima slowly pulled the brush away. While anticipating the possible someone on the other side, there was also an unsure air she began to breath.
Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.
he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...
breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...
sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.
When she pulled the branch aside, she was greeted with a vivid visage of pure, unadulterated and animalistic red. The second thing she was greeted was a silhouette of a man drowning in animalistic red, only to realize it was just his armor drowning in it and not him. There was a gentle curiosity in her mismatched eyes that only dissipated at the site of a weapon pointed at her.
She slowly back away, to indicate no harm, even sliding her blade back into her prosthetic. She never really got into politics, only knowing there was a war between the Trade Federation and the Republic.
“No, I’m not,” She answered. She was surprised at the harsh baritone of his voice, like thunder in a dark storm. “And I know you’re not one either, but aren’t you a little alone, away from the Republic?”
Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.
he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...
breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...
sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.
She always hated the idea of leaving someone behind, even if they were a clone trooper. It wasn’t strategic, unless you had a plan to go back for them. Especially for clones. Even for them, as they still breathe and bleed the same as anyone did.
“Shima,” She introduced herself as she extended out a hand. Despite the eyes and the possible knowing he was a copy, he was still human. And from the look of it, one in need of help too. Also one who did not do well in the humidity the way his hair curled in the rain. The humidity was kind to no one, but it didn’t bother her as much due to her numbness to it.
“Do you want to go back to them?” Despite the decision?”
Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.
he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...
breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...
sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.
“Obviously you’re not Sev, cause you have a name, so you that makes you as valuable as me,” She pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”
She hated that word, expendable. Her father taught her as a child that life was valuable, all of it, even the copied. That everything was part of a bigger picture and every small detail counted. He was also human given he had emotion towards his squadron. Caring that burned in his armor, even if he didn’t want to admit. There was no need to say it aloud. She could tell, that was all she needed.
“I’ve got a ship a little far from here,” She pointed out in the further depths of the jungle. She also remembered it was beyond a tribe’s territory. Hopefully, no trouble would come to pass. Though, she’d have to make sure he didn’t pass out in that armor.
“If you want, you can hitch a ride with me off this place. And from there, I could help you find your squad.” She offered/
Sev, ever the Commando, is servicing his gun in the jungle of Kashyyyk of all places, trying not to think about having no idea what his next move is, when he hears the snapping underbrush coming towards him; he doesn’t know who it is, but the lack of Wookie noises isn’t comforting him, and he’s leaning towards the likelihood of his visitor being Droids as he quickly reassembles the blaster rifle, scopes it, and aims at the oncoming sounds.
he’s stranded here, no Republic forces remaining on planet, and uncertain of the outcome of the Battle thus far, having stayed in the woods since his being left behind by his squadmates- so he knows he’s got nothing but the fight in his bones and his wits to keep himself safe. however, luckily, he’s got plenty of both of those in his favor...
breath holds in his chest, a mausoleum of ribs and red-stained armor- he stills his finger against the trigger and squints through the visor that synchs to his sniper-scope, waiting for the indication of whether to fire or hold to explode through the bushes ahead...
sweat slides, all tickling droplets, down his hot skin under his plastoid armor, but he doesn’t waver, and doesn’t speak- his deep, snarling, gravelly voice would only serve to reveal his location, and that would not do until he’s sure of who- or what- is coming through the jungle as he waits there in the clearing.