(no subject)

[meatbrained]

( five + one )

how it works:

i. post a comment with the characters you play.
ii. go around and prompt other players with a 5 + 1 prompt (e.g. "Five times Hope said sorry and one time he didn't")
iii. write a fic for the prompts people leave you!
iv. enjoy your fic? we hope?

Comments

[mismanagement]

1.

[Guess what! Maketh's weird hat-thing has some not-so-cute origins in canon.]

"Sir," she begins, staring down at the hat, "wouldn't a combat helmet be more efficient?"

The quartermaster just shrugs. "You needn't look like a soldier, Minister Tua."

She glances down at the rest of her uniform, which does include armor. It's been tested, though not on her.

The quartermaster taps the sides of the hat, with its strange, overly large earpieces. "You can listen to reports given from your field officers, as well as anyone in your security team. And, for other moments, you may find yourself needing the reassurance of the Empire. When not communicating with your soldiers, you will no doubt enjoy hearing the voice of our glorious Emperor. Consider yourself lucky, Minister Tua. Not many are honored with his presence while on duty."

Is that not counterproductive? Maketh wonders. An officer must focus completely on her task. But she takes the uniform without complaint.

After that, the Emperor's voice is always in her head.

2.

The first time that Maketh sees her uncle, she's six years old and hiding under her mother's long coat. It's raining and cold, the dead of winter, and half their crops have died. A bad year. They have not eaten a proper meal in three days. They'd been expecting bandits when Maketh saw the approaching lights, or at least her mother had, but that's not what comes.

There are six of them, though only one, the tallest man, removes his helmet. The rest linger at his back, sitting on their speeders and watching through faceless combat helmets. Though she does not know this now, all of them have painted their kill tallies on their arms.

Her mother stands at the fence line, one hand looped through a long, bladed weapon meant for farming, and the other resting on her hip. "What, then?"

"Sister," the man rumbles. Maketh hides before she can see his face. "You would die shamefully."

"I would live on my terms," Maize retorts, and hits him. Maketh cries when she hears it, afraid of what will come.

Words are exchanged. Eventually the man leaves.

Later, her mother puts out a meal on their table, fried fish and Mandalorian curry, and bottles of wine for trading when the weather breaks.

"That," her mother says, "was your uncle, child. You'll thank him properly when you're grown."

3.

Agent Kallus stares her down. "Do you trust me?"

Maketh just returns the look, already bored of his posturing. "I know you'll do your duty, Agent. Is that all?"

She watches him go and thinks, that one is dangerous. She'll have to watch him.

4.

The Empire says, it's better this way. Says, they need to die. It's better with them gone.

So they die. Maketh signs on the report. The Empire is always right.

5.

Her uncle's name is Harper Rosen. Maketh sees his face for the first time when she's sixteen, staring down at the death report and wondering what she's meant to do with her parents' farm. It's been given to her along with a notice of their passing. The official report has determined that bandits were responsible, very tragic, obviously it had been dealt with through the proper channels, and would Cadet-Commander Tua be interested in selling her land?

He finds her at the bar, still trying to decide what out to be done. She doesn't know him at first and watches him with suspicion, the scarred man with hard eyes and painted armor. Nonetheless, he smiles and takes a seat at her side. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"I don't know you at all, sir."

"You were a little thing back then." The man orders himself a drink, a bottle of the establishment's best wine. "And your mother wouldn't hear of my meddling. Stubborn woman, my sister."

"Oh," Maketh says. "I'm supposed to thank you."

Harper Rosen bares his teeth in what might be a smile. "Are you? Hmm. Your mother's dead, girl. And that man of hers might have been useless, but he's gone as well. Someone needs to avenge her."

Maketh stares at him. "I'm about to graduate."

"To become what, exactly?"

That should be obvious to him.

The man - her uncle - laughs. He does it in that same, soft way her mother used to. "You ought to come with me, before they end what you are. No daughter of Mandalore ever became an officer."

"I will," Maketh snaps, suddenly tired of this man telling her what she can and cannot become. She's about to graduate and take her commission, and doesn't have time for his Mandalorian nonsense. It doesn't matter. The old ways are dead and he's a stranger to her.

Harper Rosen looks her up and down. "I was told to warned you. That's all. My debt is paid."

He leaves. Maketh forgets him. He was an old, stupid man. He didn't know anything.

and one time she didn't

She thinks, I can survive, and contacts the rebels.

Agent Kallus smiles and sees her dead.