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I. First Impression

When he hears Obi-Wan call Qui-Gon Master, it is as if the ship has lurched beneath him; he has been terribly no–what slaver would go through such an elaborate ruse to capture one boy, even a top racer? And he can sense the rightness, as surely as if he were beholding the wonders of the Jedi Temple already. (He is not sure what those wonders are, as mostly when he imagined Jedi they were flying or fighting, but right now the air seems as imbued with promise as with oxygen.)

So he assesses Obi-Wan again, and sees a man younger, less scarred, than Qui-Gon’s example had lead him to imagine Jedi to be; were he raised in Mos Espa, Anakin thought, Obi-Wan would be...what? A gambler, a farmer, a vagrant? He does not seem to fit any of those molds. On Tatooine, anyone with such...such a shy sort of politeness, paired with the authority and skill shown by the fact he carried a lightsaber, would be left alone.

II. Conflict

Obi-Wan was waiting when Anakin arrived in the apartment. He looked at the grease stains on Anakin’s brown-clad flanks, at the dirt tracked in across the immaculate Temple carpets. He knew better by now than to ask where Anakin had been.

Instead, he chose, “What did you learn?”

Anakin looked confused. He passed into the suite, began to undo dirt-stained tabards with his back to his teacher. “I learned that winning a couple races means attracting young fans who want advice.”

“Hmm. And do you advise them?”

“A little.”

“Be careful. If too many beings recognize you–I’ve given up telling you not to flee the temple on every whim, but Padawan–”

Anakin disappeared into his room, leaving the door cracked open. Obi-Wan thought about when the carpet-cleaning droid next made its rounds.

Anakin said, “I know, Master. I never stay long afterward. And there’s only so much to teach. They won’t ever be like me.”

The arrogance slipped out effortless and sincere, and Obi-Wan knew he was right; no one without the Force–no one with, if Obi-Wan were honest–could do the things Anakin did. But the difference between Master and apprentice was not as different as that between those with the Force and those without.

A memory came to Obi-Wan then, something that he wasn’t sure would be right, but that nagged at his brain until he revealed it. “Qui-Gon once told me that a good teacher’s greatest desire is for his student to become more talented than himself.”

“I think that’s a bit foolish,” Anakin said, and it was as if he had insulted Qui-Gon. “That could leave the teacher in danger. And it might not be possible. Everyone has so much talent. So many midi-chlorians.” He emerged into the sitting room, wearing a fresh tunic.

He felt what he had done and said, “I’m sorry,” and then, “I mean, I just think as a statement it’s too absolute.”

“That it is,” said Obi-Wan soberly.

III. Their Finest Hour

There is a moment, during the great hurtling final flight of the Invisible Hand, when in the storm of the Force Anakin slides aside into the calm center and sees Obi-Wan. He cannot spare a glance from the controls and readouts, but from the Jedi Master’s presence in the Force he can picture his mentor’s expression with almost no effort; jaw set beneath his beard, blue eyes straight ahead, hands loose but white on the armrests. Anakin knows how much Obi-Wan hates to fly, and so his unexpected, Force-borne calmness is a patch of serenity.

They could all die here, now, but Anakin has faced death before, and he cannot help but revel in speed, in how gouts of fire rip from the ship’s hull and flash past, cooling from white to red. He hears every crack and strain of the hull and understands their meaning as if they were language, Huttese or Basic or the song of the Force. He has always met action with action, but here by his Master’s example he meets it with silence, potential readiness, a calm center. For just a moment.

IV. Each Other’s Creations

It is on Mustafar, as their lightsaber blades cross like reality and its reflection in the mirror, that he realizes without a doubt that he is stronger than Obi-Wan. Not more experienced or more controlled–certainly not a better teacher. But he has always been more talented, and this, he realizes, makes the Council’s denial of his Mastery moot. He is apart from their system.

So they fight, strike-twist-strike-deflect-set, oh-so-precise, and Anakin thinks he has nothing more to learn.

***

And so, after another fight, in which the lightsaber blades were blue and green but nevertheless purer reflections of each other than were the blue and blue, one aspect of the Force asks another, “Master, can you possibly forgive me?”

“Of course. You have learned that no one should ever stop learning.”

“I know.” But a bit of rakishness remains. “That’s such a cliche.”

Obi-Wan had been trusting Anakin to pick up his platitude instead of the truth of what he said. “It isn’t. I say that everyone should keep learning, not that it is impossible to ever stop. Many stop. They become too used to a repetitive world.”

Anakin considers, replies; “I know now that we were all slaves to Palpatine; I was, and the Republic, and perhaps the Jedi. But I won’t confuse a Master who restricts one world with a mentor, who expands it, ever again.”

And because it is the Force speaking, two of its strongest aspects fused with itself again, Luke feels their thoughts, and breathes in deep the cool clear air of Endor, and smiles at his father.
Without access to fanfiction.net I'm getting twitchy. I'm not review-hungry, or I'd like to think I'm not -- I'd do this whether others read it or not. But knowing that others do read it now, I don't like leaving them without. And it's one of my favourite things to talk about.

So, would you like to see more of my fan fic on this site?

This is the first chapter of a series about Masters and Padawans, inspired by [link] .
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Queen's Blade

Summary:

From the moment you were born in this world, your role has already been decided. As well as the one who protects and the one who is going to be protected. Imperial Force's Commander!Anna. Elsanna

A/n: Well, I read Queen's Blade Hide and Seek, and I thought... the sisters' relationship is quite the same. ... somehow. No, it won't be like Queen's Blade, so no worries. XD

And yes, I'm aware that I should be doing my other fanfic instead of making a new one, buuuuut... Anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen and Queen's Blade

Special Thanks: exDerelict for beta-ing!

Chapter 1: Prologue : It's predetermined


"Anna?"

"What is it, Daddy?" Five-years-old Anna asked, clutching her precious Elsa and Anna dolls.

"Do you love Elsa?" The king of Arendelle asked. He smiled at her, but his smile much like all his smiles, never once reach his hardened eyes.

'What?'

Anna blinked at this unexpected question, but she smiled broadly.

"Of course!" The strawberry blond beamed. "Anna loves big sister Elsa so, so, so very much!" She answered honestly, a big smile on her face.

"And Elsa loves me, too!" Little Anna added. She was so sure of it, and she couldn't bear the thought of her sister not loving her back.

He replied with a cynical smirk, but his daughter was too distracted to notice it. Anna was clutching the dolls tightly together, afraid to separate them by some clumsy move on her part. Much like her sister, little Anna believed that doll Anna and doll Elsa should never be separated.

"I see... In that case..." The king replied, carefully considering his next words. "Do you know what you will be…when you grow up?"

Little Anna blinked, another unexpected question.

"Umm, I will be a princess with Elsa and we will be together forever?" She replied innocently, unsure what her father was getting at.

The king snorted and chuckled.

The young are so naive.

"You know that you and your sister are the first and second in line to the kingdom of Arendelle... right?" He stared and Anna blinked before she slowly nodded in affirmation.

"One is the rightful heir and the other, the future commander of our imperial forces," he continued, and Anna's eyes widened.

The future commander of the imperial forces?

"The 'one who protects' and the 'one who is going to be protected'…"

What does he mean by that?

The small five-year-old looked up to find her father's duplicitous grin.

Imperial forces? Heir? I thought me and Elsa are the heirs? Anna wanted to say it out loud but the severe aura surrounding her father terrified her, and Anna knew punishment awaited her if she were to interrupt him.

"From the moment you were born into this world, the future was already decided for the two of you." The king explained, determined that Anna would understand what he meant.

"Elsa is the heir?" Anna asked, looking up and clutching the dolls even closer.

"And that makes you the Imperial Force's commander; the one who will stay by Elsa's side forever..." The king added darkly. He prized his heir dearly, and the fact that she had magic powers only amplified her value to him.

Elsa required protection from forces from within and beyond their borders who would try to claim her power for themselves, that much was certain. And who better to protect the rightful heir than her younger sister, whose devotion already knew no bounds?

He chuckled, not bothering to mask his insincerity.

Yes, the kingdom of Arendelle would prosper one way or another, regardless whether they reigned over the control of the ice export or not.

The little girl chided herself: Of course Elsa is the heir! She's so smart and perfect! Yet she smiled at the thought of her wonderful Elsa being crowned someday and ruling the kingdom alongside her. As her Imperial Force's commander.

"You accept your sworn duty, right Anna?" The king asked, but the hardened way he spoke made it clear that there was ever only one answer.

"Of course, Daddy!" Anna replied, clutching the dolls on her left arm as she mustered to give her father a proper salute

"Of course you would," he remarked, pleased with her expected response.

"It's the role you were born to play." He added, hazel eyes meeting Anna's turquoise ones.

"So my life is pradatermi-wha?" Anna blinked; she tried to remember the hard word she has recently learned.

"Predetermined?" The king prompted, and Anna nodded eagerly.

"Yes, Anna. Everything is predetermined for people like us." The king explained and patted his youngest daughter on the head with as much affection as he would to a prized steed.

"Our roles are predetermined. There is no room for failure."He paused, deciding he should provoke his daughter to do his bidding.

"You must make certain that you never fail, Anna. Elsa is the heir, and that means there will be many enemies who will want to harm her. Failing her could make bad things happen. You wouldn't want your precious Elsa to get hurt now, would you?" Her father provoked and Anna's eyes widened.

If she failed, Elsa would get hurt.

She couldn't bear seeing her sister get hurt.

A shadow of realization crossed little Anna's face, before she beamed resolutely and nodded furiously.

"Of course not, Daddy! I won't let anyone hurt big sister Elsa!" She chirped happily, and her father gave her a self-satisfied smile before he stood up. "Your sword training will start tomorrow." He informed before leaving, without so much as second glance back.

I won't let anyone hurt Elsa, Anna thought determination shone on her turquoise eyes.

This time, a maniacal grin found its way to the little princess's face. "Only I can keep her safe." Anna muttered stubbornly as she ran off to find Elsa.

And I will keep her safe from any harm.


A/n:That was pretty short. Oh well, it will do for a prologue, I guess.

Warning in advance? The Anna in later chapters. She could also turns Yandere/Tsundere.

From the moment you were born in this world, your role has already been decided. As well as the one who protects and the one who is going to be protected. Imperial Force's Commander!Anna. Eventual Elsanna.

Beta read by exDerelict

Also, sketched cover since I'm not done with it yet.

on ff.net: www.fanfiction.net/s/10249660/…
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Donning his battered orange jacket and a worn pair of pants, Admiral Carth Onasi abandoned his military dedication -- and posture -- in attempt to fit in with the crowd. He'd been tracking down various information brokers and well-traveled smugglers with hopes that someone would have news of Revan. Unfortunately, due to his promise, his selection was restricted to whatever scum was stupid enough to work in whatever Republic territory he was stationed at.

In this instance, he had been recommended the services of an up-and-coming Bothan sludge news reporter who seemed to know more about the celebrities she was stalking than their own mothers. He'd reviewed the reports local authorities had filed against her and found it incredibly easy to predict what nightclub she would make her next appearance at. Driven by the desire for information and the need for a stiff drink, he found himself seated next to her at the club's strategically lit bar.

Despite the fact that her fur was dyed in a manner that competed with the sun and that her clothing fit three sizes too small, it was her age that caught him off guard. He was pretty sure she wasn't old enough to fly, let alone be in the vicinity of a cantina. She was a regular, though: the bartender had served her drink before she had finished sitting down.

He considered initiating conversation in a subtle manner, but a direct approach was much more successful: "Hey, beautiful."

Offended, she deliberately looked around the entire room before granting the graying man a response: "Excuse me?"

"I... was just admiring your... color scheme."

Sipping her drink, she stared at him for a moment; her eyes were the same shade of yellow as the rest of her, "Are you lost? Can I help you?"

"Actually, yes. I'm looking for a friend of mine."

She snorted, "Qel-Droma's dead, old man, get over it."

"I need to find Darth Revan. I'd be willing to pay if you have any information."

Her fur ruffled nervously in recognition and she considered Carth over her drink for a handful of moments, "That kind of information is worth more than you make."

"If you know something, something current, I'll find the credits," he promised.

It was a long time before she spoke again and he watched as something shifted in her actions; she seemed to have matured between drinks, "I... I only met him once. Revan was... very persuasive. I would have followed him to the edges of the universe, if he would have let me."

"She."

She arched an eyebrow and assumed a demeaning tone, "I assure you the Dark Lord of the Sith was a man. He was tall and handsome; built and ...powerful," she toyed with her straw unconsciously, lost in a memory. The trance ended and her expression soured, reverting to the angry child, "You'd know that if you were friends! You're just another creepy Republic officer trying to rat me out! Leave me alone, old man."

"She," Carth repeated, dismissed by the informant. He watched her leave the bar and work her way across the room, stopping periodically to remind people what they owed her, before abandoning his own drink.

'Go home, sister. You deserve a better life.'

Warm, tropical air greeted him as he left the club and made his way back to the base. At the height of their mission, Revan had reached out and connected with so many people.

'They were loyal. They would have died for you. How could they forget you so easily?'

It wasn't the first time he'd been corrected; history was biased and he'd witnessed first-hand as Revan's legend contorted over time. Someone as influential and stubborn as Revan had to be male; it was natural to assume so. Without her presence, society refused to believe it had danced on strings pulled by a woman. Even he, who had stood by her side and pledged his existence, was starting to believe it had all been a delusion of grief.

Revan was the embodiment of fear, he'd discovered. To the Jedi, Revan was the fallen one who would tear the Order apart. To the Mandalorians, Revan was a warrior more brutal and cunning than they could imagine. To Bastilla, Revan was a legacy she could never live up to. To Carth, Revan was woman: strong, beautiful, determined and burdened by fate.

'Just like my wife.'

Maybe they were right: maybe he had been tricked, tugged along by his heartstrings like a kath pup. Hed seen how Revan could control strong wills with a simple gesture, and he'd seen such manipulative acts used on the Sith and Jedi alike. Revan displayed similar command over Bastila, too.

'Maybe... Maybe a kiss was all she needed to... Damned woman! You should have just killed me on the Star Forge.'

He banished the thought.

Even if Revan had peered into his memories and used them to get close to him, she had touched him in a way that only his wife could. Like his wife's death, Revan's disappearance pained his continued existence.

It exhausted him to consider the measures she had taken to assure he would not follow her. She was persuasive; he wondered how many of the stories she'd conjured herself. It would be typical of her to destroy herself to protect him.

She had to have loved him. She had to come back. He just needed more patience.

Stories, the very fabric of time, had a nasty habit of stretching and fraying, eventually straying so far from their original form that they have to be tossed aside.

'Stories. That's all they are.'

He loved her too much to believe otherwise.

"She."
Title: "She"
Catagory: KOTOR, Carth/LSF!Revan
Rating: PG
Words: 949
Notes: The decision to make Revan a guy just pisses me off! Where's all the awesome Sith Lord power in it being a guy? Powerful Jedi falls to the dark side and causes mass havok then falls in love with a whiney would-be redemptor. Pfft. It's so much less annoying with a woman as the main character.

Written on 07/07/06, in... well, I didn't get anything else done that day.
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Grand Army of the Republic

:Trooper Profiles:

Nickname: Tike

Alias: Flak

Early in his initial days of training as a young clone, Trooper Tike demonstrated advanced reflexes. As a result he was siphoned off from his batch and began training as an advanced pilot. Though all clones receive a basic level of flight training, the Corp he was inducted too excelled with V wings, and co-pilot/gunnery crews of the Y-wing and LAAT Gunships. This being said, Tike flew more missions that he did march in the trenches.

During his flight time he successfully managed to earn the new alias "Flak" due to his impressive record of ruined crafts. He was shot down twice in different Torrent fighters, 8 times in gunships, and twice again as a Y wing gunner. Suffice it to say, "Flak magnet" seemed far more appropriate for the damage his ships sustained. He was always cracking jokes that if he wasn't surrounded in metal...he'd have died as many times as a small company. Flak reached a conclusion that he was saving the Kaminoan's money by being nearly invincible. He loves the face he hasn't been shot down in a V wing....this is because if you look closely at his mission log...he's never flown one.

Flak himself is a sharp-witted clone pilot. His puns break tense mission moments, but he never goes far enough to be considered a clown. The pilot makes a great team member and loyally fights next to any veteran pilot or flight crew. He serves as a moral compass and informs officers of the general feeling of the troopers beneath their command. Honest, tactful, witty, and one hell of a gunner/ weapon coordinator. He never leaves the cockpit without a pistol strapped to his leg.
Character description of a Clone Pilot OC of mine.
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Chapta Four: Wartrakk

Say of Da Day: “Dats da risk of playin’ scar poka.” – Fergritz

Due to the scarcity of parts, a lack of vehicles, and a generally lazy attitude - none of the Orks had left the forgery for the past three days. Brudz’ bike wasn’t big enough to carry four Orks (two of which were Nobs), and the unfortunate Mek had be slogged with the task of producing something Oric and Jamz could ride on.

Oric studied the plan Brudz had drawn. “Yew got ta be jokin’!” he snorted in disgust, “yew wanna use me precious Tankabell ta make dis?

“Dere aint nuthin’ else I c’n use ta make somefin dat’ll heft yew an’ Jamz’ big butts!” Brudz argued, “Me bike barely survived one big Nob!”

“Dis is ‘n’ insult ta Tanky!” Whinged Oric. “I won’t let yer do it.”

Brudz didn’t win many arguments with a Nob, but she wasn’t going to lose this one; at least that’s what she hoped. If she did lose, she would have to think of another way to transport everyone. “Fine, walk to da waagh, I got me bike, ‘n’ Cezzy c’n come wiv me but no one else can. Besides, what’s more insultin’ to ya Tankabell? Bein’ a giant scrap heap, or bein’ made inta somefin’ dat acshually works?”

Eventually, after reviewing the plans, and being assured that there would be plenty of guns added, Oric allowed Brudz to use the remains of his tank to construct a new vehicle. “Fine, but make sure she don’t git ruined.”

After folding the designs up (which looked no better than a five-year-olds picture) and stashing them in her back pocket, Brudz walked over to her tool box and flipped it open. “Spanner… hack saw… stick thing… rivet gun… phew, what’s dat stink?”

Cezzy’s distinct giggle-snorts echoed in the forgery. Everyone looked around and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, with something large and squishy clutched in her hands.

“What da heck is dat?” Jamz asked, putting down the Gretchin he was going to eat. “Iz dat our lunch?”

“Hee! Hee! Hee!” Cezzy-Po giggled again maniacally. “Dis iz me latest medicle break-frew!” The Dok walked into the forgery, and sat the thing on an empty work bench. Everybody walked over to have a look.

A fleshy lump squirmed on the bench top; it appeared to be some kind of Frankenstein Ork creation. Cezzy poked at it with a scalpel, explaining, “Dis ‘ere is a legless squig, which I added bits ‘n’ pieces to. See, it gots Ork fingahs for legz, Ork ears, an Orky toe fer a tail, ‘n’ I gave it an extra liver ‘n’ kidney.”

Nobody was really sure what to say. Except for Jamz, who looked hungrily at it. “Can we eats it now?” he asked.

The squealing, grunting, experimental squig tried to clamber onto it’s ‘legs’ but continued to toppled over. Cezzy picked it up, and sat it on it’s finger-legs. “It ain fer eatin’, Jamz. ‘Sides, de yer really wanna be eatin’ bits of dem Deff Skullz? Dey’s nasty, smelly Orks.”

Jamz shrugged; he rarely cared about what he ate, as long as it was filling.
Everyone watched the squig as it walked unsteadily on its finger-legs, stepping backwards and forwards shakily. It overbalanced, and fell of the work bench, falling to the floor; it’s stiches split open, and its guts popped out.

Cezzy shrieked, “Me squiggy! Me poor lil squiggy!” She got to her knees, and started stuffing the organs back into the twitching squig.

“Why’s I suddenly feel all ‘ungry…” Brudz wondered aloud, walking off towards the pile of scraps to start work on the vehicle.

For the rest of the day, the Orks all worked; Cezzy experimented with her squig, Jamz went to get some more beer, Brudz worked on her machine, and Oric and the Gretchin fixed the hole on the wall.

By the time night came, everyone was hungry and sleepy. The four Orks sat in the middle of the forgery (the kitchen had been turned into a laboratory thanks to Cezzy-Po, and was now a bio hazard) eating meat roasted over the molten metal tubs, and drinking fungus beer Jamz had bought with the teeth they bashed out of the heads of the dead Death Skullz boys earlier that day.

It didn’t take long for the arguments to erupt; Jamz had decided that Brudz was not to have any beer until the vehicle was completed; and Cezzy-Po was restricted to two beers due to her inability to hold her drinks very well.

As soon as Jamz and Oric were virtually incapacitated due to the sheer volume of beer consumed, Cezzy approached Brudz who was sulking near a furnace to keep warm. “Hey, sis, yew wanna ‘ave shome beer?”

“Dem two turd-fashed bilge-spewz drank it all, or didn’t yer notice?” She snapped in reply.

Cezzy stood next to her sister by the furnace; a sly smile crept across her gob. “I kept a few teef… enough ta git us some beer.” She pulled a small handful of bloody teeth from her pocket to show Brudz. “So, wadoya say, me ‘n’ yew go git some beer, eh?”

“Cezzy, dat would be a good idea, ‘cept yews fergettin dat we is only two Orks. We run inta any of dem Deff Skullz, we’d be croaked fer sure!”

“What, yew scared?” Cezzy taunted. “Big chikin.”

“I aint scared! Jus’ concerned fer yer safety, yeah…”

“Yew? Scared fer me safety?” Cezzy scoffed, “Unlikely! Yer jus’ bein’ a coward. An’ I knows a way ter ensure our safety, anyways…” She put the teeth back into her pocket, and pulled a jar out of another pocket, and unscrewed the lid.

“Dat’s blue paint,” Brudz said looking into the jar. “Are ya suggestin’ we put dat on, and pretend ta belong to da Deff Skullz?”

“Yep!” Cezzy nodded. “But we’ll also need ta change outta anyfin’ red, so’s we dun look suspishesh. I’s got dat sorted, too. Follow me.”

The sisters crept to a corner of the forge where a large messy bench stood. Cezzy quietly pulled open some drawers. Inside, were scraps of clothes. “Let’s git changed, den we c’n finally git some beer.”


Twenty minutes later.


None of the street lights worked; most were missing completely, or bent and broken. But that was no concern for an Ork; their cat-like eyes gave them better night vision than most un-genetically modified humans.

Brudz and Cezzy-Po walked down the street with blue faces; their red garments had been swapped for anything that would fit. Brudz wore a convict’s shirt, and Cezzy wore black boots; she also took off her bandana. Neither, however, were going to leave their weapons behind.

Many other Orks were out; some drunk, some fighting, some gambling. Brudz spotted a group of Evil Sunz Orks, distinguished by their red clothing, having a face-eating competition.

“Somefin’ jus’ occurred to me,” Brudz whispered to her sister. “What ‘appens if we git into a fight wiv our real clan, da Evil Sunz? Dey won’t believe we aint wiv dem Deff Skullz.”

Cezzy tried to explain to her sister why it was important that they had best not be recognised by the Death Skulls, and that getting into a brawl with the Evil Sunz was a risk worth running. “We killed some o’ dem Deff Skullz, so they’d likely kill us if dey recognised us. We aint killed no Evil Sunz, so dey won’t be as likely to kick our ‘eads in, see?”

The sisters were about to cross the street to get to the pub when a pair of large hands grabbed them on the shoulders. “Oi, where’s yew two fink yer goin’?”

Cezzy and Brudz turned around; a large Nob with a blue face stood glaring down at them. He had a large gun slung on his back, a huge knife strapped to his leg, and he wore leather pants with studded leather boots and had a bare chest.

Unsure what she should say, Brudz turned to her sister, only to find the Dok was ogling the Nob from head to toe. “Snap outta it!” She said, punching her preoccupied sister.

“Ow!” Cezzy complained rubbing her side, “Why’d ya do dat?”

“Coz yew was starin’ at dat Nob likes ‘ee waz a carton o’ beer!” Brudz hissed.

The Death Skullz Nob stood there watching as the two sisters’ argument dissolved into a cat fight. The pair only stopped when he shot his gun into air, spraying empty shells over the pavement. While the pair were frozen on the spot he growled, “Aint yew pair meant ta go see Gharkhus?”

Brudz and Cezzy shook their heads without speaking.

“Den what’s it yer doin?” He asked.

The sisters pointed to the pub, saying at the same time, “beer.”

“Yew gettin’ beer fer Gharkhus?” He questioned them.

“Look,” Brudz said as politely as possible, “Yew musta mistaken us fer someone else. We aint doin’ any errands for dis Gharkhus fella. We’s goin to da pub, ta get beer fer ourselves.

The Nob didn’t look impressed; he was about to talk, when Cezzy pipped up, “Yew wanna come?”

His expression was swift to change. “Well, a few more beers would be real good…”

“Exscuze me while I talk to me sistah ‘bout somefin’…” Brudz put an arm around her sister’s neck, and pulled her away from the Death Skull Nob. “Whadoya tryin’ ta do? Git us killed? If ‘ee finds out, we’re croaked!”

The Nob walked over, and looked at them suspiciously. “Find out wha’?”
“Er…” Brudz tried to think of a believable story. “Dat we’s skippin’ our duties fer a few drinks…?”

Surprisingly, the Nob smirked. He leant over, saying, “I won’t tell if yew don’t.”



Many beers later, the Orks sat at a crooked table playing scar poker; a game, where alcohol or a winning hand was the only shield between yourself and pain. Several rounds of poker would be played, and each round, the winner would drop out until only one loser was left. That unlucky loser would have to hurt themselves in whatever way had been decided for that match. Two more Death Skullz Orks had joined the sisters and the Nob, and both enjoyed scar poker very much.

Everyone had introduced themselves; the big Nob the sisters met on the street was named Fergritz; he was proficient at stabbing things, and handy with a gun. The two smaller Orks were Oglak and Murkagro, your regular slugga boyz.

“Dey all looks da same…” One of the slugga boyz muttered. In actual fact, he had his cards facing outwards and was too drunk to realise he was looking at the pattern on the back of the cards. “I finks I’s gonna win dis one…”

It was the last round of poker to decide the loser; Oglak and Cezzy were pitted against each other.

“I gots a flush,” the Dok announced, putting her hand down.

Oglak did the same. “I got five aces.”

“Ba! Ha! Ha! Ha!” Fergritz laughed drunkenly. “Turn da cards ovuh, stupid.”

Oglak did as he was told, revealing two three’s, a jack, a nine, and a five. “Aww, fridgin’ dammit, can we redo dat round?”

Brudz snorted with glee; the bet for the round was that everyone got to smash a beer bottle on the loser’s head. “No way, it aint our fault yer too blind ta see da difrince ‘tween one side o’ da cards an’ de uv’er. But ‘ere, yew c’n use dese coz I feels sorry for ya, sorta.” She handed over her driving goggles to Oglak. “It’ll ‘elp ta save yer eyes frum all da glass, heh heh…”

Once Oglak had put on the goggles, the smashing began. He was left slumped on the floor, bleeding. “Dooya fink maybes we ovuh did it a wee bit?” Murkagro asked.

“Ee wanted ta be dealed in, soz it’s iz own fault.” Fergritz replied with a shrug. “Dat’s da risk of playin’ scar poka.”

And so the night went, with more scar poker, and more beer. And then some more scar poker and even more beer.


The two sisters staggered through the door to the forge, arms over each others shoulders and a bottle in each hand. The sun had risen a long time ago.

“Boss, dere’s some Deff Skullz walkin’ in!” A Gretchin yelled out.

Oric ran over, gun raised, only to lower it screaming as loud as possible, “WHERE DA ‘ELL ‘AVE YEW TWO BEEN?”

Brudz tried to talk, only to collapse to the floor vomiting. Cezzy drank the last of her beer, burped, and sat on a crate.

“It’s nearly lunch time,” Oric growled angrily, “An’ dat one’s sposed ta be buildin’ me ‘n’ Jamz a fingy ta travel on! Why da flammin’ ‘ell she gots a fork stuck in ‘er ‘ead? An’ why’s yew all dressed in Deff Skullz outfits?”

Brudz dragged herself across the floor; she apparently had no use of her legs anymore. “I jus’ lost a game o’ scar, poka, dassall… nufern ta worry ‘bouts…”

Cezzy bent over and pulled the fork out of her sisters’ skull, nearly falling backwards. “We was ‘avin’ da foo beersh wiv Fergritz, musta lost track ‘o’ time, yeh… hic…” She held onto a crate, and lowered herself to the ground, ready to fall asleep. “Anywayz, g’night gwumpy.”

Oric was too angry to say anything; he just stood there making snarling sounds, and shaking with anger. Jamz stomped over, looking down at his sisters. “Did yew two go to da pub?”

“No…” Brudz lied instinctively.

“Den where’d ya go?” Jamz asked, tilting his head, but there was no response. Both his sisters were asleep.



Brudz was startled awake when she felt the cold wash of water over her face; it wasn’t gentle, and it sure didn’t feel refreshing. Instead, she felt like she was drowning.

Oric pulled Brudz’ head out from the toilet bowl, the flush chain still in one hand. The mek coughed and spluttered; she gulped in fresh air, only to have her head once again thrust into the water. Oric pulled the chain flushing the toilet. When she resurfaced, Brudz was fully awake. “Yuk! You filthy Ork! What makes yer fink I’ll do anyfin fer an ass’ole like yew?”

“I let yer sleep fer two hours in yer own puke puddle, dat was more’n’ generous of me.” Oric said standing up, and throwing Brudz out of the bathroom door into the forgery. “NOW I WANTS ME NEW VEHICLE SO GIT A MOVALONG YA GIT!”

The mek got to her feet, coughing up some water. Her clothes smelt of stomach fluids, beer and cigar smoke, but she ignored it. She had a throbbing head ache, and felt giddy. However, she wasn’t about to say no to an already enraged Nob. She felt lucky her brother hadn’t already wrapped his claws around her throat and throttled her.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t git yer panties inna knot yer dumb Ork, I’s on me way…” Brudz mumbled, heading to her work station.



“Body parts! Oh! How wundaful!” Cezzy-Po was in a giant laboratory-slash-hospital. Shelves were lined with organs, limbs, and bits of flesh. She ran over to one shelf and grabbed some livers; from another, she grabbed intestines. She filled her arms with jars and bags of body parts, before taking them over to a band new sparkly metal bench.

Cezzy-Po put everything down, and trundled over to a surgery bed where an unconscious battle-torn Ork lay. “Ah, how convenient, shomeone ta experiment on! Tee-hee!” She kicked off the brakes, and wheeled the bed over beside her bench.

Beside the bench was a cupboard. Cezzy pulled open the doors; the sparkle of all the stabby things inside nearly blinded her. There were needles, scalpels, knives, saws, drills, callipers, tongs, scissors, more needles, a pizza cutter and endless amounts of other surgical equipment.

The Dok grabbed a few items and prepared to cut open her patient. She planned to cut him open and take out the less needed organs and replace them with some more useful ones (like a second liver).

In final preparation, Cezzy put on a pair of headphones, and turned on her music player. “Time fer cuttin’!”



A chain was hung from the upper rafters in the forgery. At the end of it, was Cezzy-Po, hanging upside down with the chain wrapped around her. Several feet below her were a bunch of Gretchin standing on a stool, clawing at her hungrily.

“…Got offa plane to da country da-da da… drove to da mountain na na na… crack on da corna ‘n’ shumone dead… la la la, la la la la-la. Dey gots guns on ‘em yea, eh, eh eh-eh…”

“SHUT YER MOUF!” Jamz throw an old bone at Cezzy-Po, rudely awakening her from her slumber.

“Gorkers! Huh? What da? Where’d I put dat pancreas!” She stammered, confused. “Hmm? Aaaagh! Git away from me, yew ugly snots! I’ll make ya inta me next test subjects, if yer git any closa!”

The Gretchin scrambled away; they didn’t want to risk being near Cezzy-Po now that she was awake after seeing what she did to the squig.

Jamz raised his gun, causing Cezzy to panic. “Don’t shoot me!” She screamed, “I swears I didn’ sell any of ya organs, I SHWEAR!”

The gun burst to life for a few seconds and the chain broke. Cezzy plunged towards the ground only to land in Jamz’ open mega-claw uncomfortably. “I ‘ad da greatest dream…” She groaned painfully.

“I wants yer ta shave me back,” Jamz growled. “But I wasn’ gonna let yer go anywheres near me wiv a blade in yer ‘ands whiles yew were wasted now, waz I?”

He grabbed on end of the chain, stood Cezzy on the ground and pulled; she spun around like a spinning top, and nearly fell into a tub of molten metal. “Geez!” She whinged, “Be a bit gentla, wouldja? Me stomach’s feelin’ foul still.”


As punishment for sneakily going to the pub when they were strictly ordered not to drink beer, Brudz and Cezzy were worked hard for two days without any food. Brudz had her leg shackled together after trying to do a runner for the meat and Cezzy sustained several broken ribs after accidentally cutting one of Jamz’ main arteries open from a shaky (underfed) hand.

It was almost sundown when Brudz picked up the last rivet. She had managed to talk Jamz into letting her sister help her. “Jus’ dis one liddle rivet…” She said wearily. “Den I c’n eat ‘n’ sleep ‘n’ be as lazy as I pleases.”

Cezzy prodded her sore chest tenderly. “Yeah, an’ I c’n sleep off me brokin ribz.” She picked up the lump of metal, and held it against the back of the rivet.

The rivet gun rattled for a few seconds, and the job was done.

“Finished!” Brudz screeched out with joy, throwing the rivet gun to the ground.

Before them stood a thing big enough to support two large Nobs with ease. It was made from the caterpillar track and gears from the right side of the tank, with some extra wheels added to the front and sides for stability and steering purposes. Two seats were perched above the track, with foot rests either side so it could be rode like a motor bike.  At the back a shoddy engine was affixed to turn the gears and provide a backrest for the second seat. The handle bars at the front were attached a tripod of wheels with which to control the direction of the vehicle; a machine gun was also mounted on them, as well as the throttle. Something that resembled a train’s snow plough was bolted over the tripod of wheels for protection.

“So, what iz it, exactly?” Cezzy-Po asked.

“Just some kinda wartrakks, I spose.” Brudz surmised. “It don’t fit inta any uv’er category dat I c’n fink of.”

Jamz and Oric came over to inspect the vehicle. “Whadija do to da name plate!?” Oric said in horror, as he saw the scrap of metal that used to be his pillow was riveted to the front of the handle bars. “Did I tells yer ta change it? No! It sposed ta say TANKABELL!”

“I ‘ad ta cut it shorta,” Brudz snapped, “’coz it waz too damn big! Yew’ll jus’ ‘ave ta do wiv ‘Tanka’ fer da moment. Anywayz, undo dese stupid chains on me legs.”

“Now don’t be so ‘asty.” Oric said, mounting the vehicle. “I gots ta make sure dis fing works, first.”

“I wants ta drive!” Jamz snarled, reaching out to grab Oric. “Git off!”

Envisioning her newest piece of work being caught between two Nobs fighting, Brudz quickly calmed her brother. “I made da back seat ‘speshly fer yew, Jamz. It got a back rest, an yew c’n shoot yer guns coz ya hands  are free.”

Jamz contemplated it for a moment, before deciding that a back rest didn’t sound too bad after all. He jumped on behind Oric. “Don’t crash us, or I’s’ll kill yer.”

“Damn right yews ‘ad betta not crash dat fing,” Brudz lectured, “Yew do, an’ I aint makin’ yer a new one! You’ll be walkin’ to da waagh.”

The vehicle took a few turns to start. It rumbled to life and a cloud of thick black smoke erupted from the exhaust.

“It’s alive!” Cezzy joked.

Oric and Jamz listened as Brudz gave them a quick run-down on the vehicle.
“Now, dis fing can’t do sharp turn coz it’s a single trakk. Da only fing steerin’ it, iz doze fwree wheels,” she said pointing to the three wheels behind the plough. “yew try an’ turn it too tight, an’ most likely yew’ll just roll or somefin’. Also, dis fing needs a battery ta start. I madez it so, if’n dat battery dies, yer can start it up by ‘ookin’ Jamz’ mega armour up to da engine at da back dere.”

The Gretchin opened the large fold-up door which opened onto the street. The girls walked out onto the pavement to watch. The boys drove the ‘wartrakk’ out slowly.
“We’ll be back inna while.” Oric said, and the two Nobs drove off.

It was a noisy contraption, which spewed vast amounts of smoke, but that was nothing unusual for an Ork vehicle. Brudz and Cezzy watched as it disappeared down the stretch of road, wobbling slightly.
First and foremost, I would like to point out several things about my Ork story:

1. No, the ork girls in my story don't have boobs and no they don't have the other accessory.
2. Orks in my story do not breed like humans.
3. If you haven't read the prologue, READ IT because it explains wtf ork girls actually are/do
4. Yes I like toilet jokes so either skip them or love them when you come across them
5. I like pizza. Wait. That has nothing to do with the story... yet.


Well, I finally got off my lazy arse and decided to upload the rest of my Ork story. I will be slowly uploading it to DA... chapter, by pain staking chapter. It takes me more time than I like to think about to format it for here. Why on earth can't we just upload our word or works documents!? It would make life much easier D:

Thus far, I've written over 20 chapters and a prologue; if you're wanting to read ahead of my uploading to DA, you can view it here on fanfiction dot net: [link]

_________________
Prologue: [link]
Chapta 1: Off Ta WAAAAGH! - [link]
Chapta 2: Da Fate of Tankabell - [link]
Chapta 3: The Imperials - [link]
Chapta 4: Wartrakk - [link]
Chapta 5: Arrival At Octavius Three - [link]
Chapta 6: Da Snakebites - [link]
Chapta 7: Confrontation -[link]
Chapta 8: Da Goffs Arrive - [link]
Chapta 9: Da Big Brawl - [link]
_________________
Chapta Notes

Doopey-doo... nyeh, another day, another beer. If you like the scar poka... wait til ya see chapta 19...
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Order 66: 21st Nova Corp.

Snow flutters through the smoky gray haze,

Rising to my feet, ice crunches beneath my gear.

The enemy clanking, far across the bridge, eludes my gaze,

The tall Jedi approaches as does the commander; dissolving our fear.

Igniting his blue saber, Mundi stands upon the barricade,

“Forward!” he orders…as many have done before..

Shouldering our rifles we press on to follow the glowing blade,

Fires flair, lasers glaze, missiles burst; battle after battle we’ve endured.

My brothers fall...the payment of an ungrateful republic,

You’ve ordered us again to follow you to hell.

We’ve been told our sacrifice is symbolic,

I’m not afraid to die, but after this…it’ll be you who is the shell.

New incoming order! Our lives are no longer yours to sell!
Random first attempt at a series of Order 66 poems.

I'll be interested to know what you think. I seldom write this way so we'll see how it goes.

Hope you liked it.
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Here you see experimental rules for the Sevarus pattern Chimera. A modification that first appeared during the campaign on Sevarus.
It might take a few seconds to load, its more than just a single picture ;)


This PDF was created for the Doom of Sevarus Prime, a unofficial warhammer 40.000 campaign, if you wanna know more about it check our projct page. [link]

Chimera Games Workshop
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Title: Alternate Refuse Ending
Author: JohnnyDepp-Fan
Timeline: I think the title is self-explnatory xD
Characters and parings: Alais Shepard and Liara T'Soni, Reaper AI, Admiral Hackett, Joker, Dr. Chakwas, Garrus

-----

Was this really happening? She had to choose between TIM's solution, turning everyone into a synthetic/organic form, which sounded a lot like what Saren wanted to do in the first place, or destroying the reapers and the Geth and EDI along too? 'were all my efforts in vain?' she thought hopelessly "You're asking me to change everything...everyone, I can't make that decision, I won't. I fight for freedom, mine and everyone's, I fight for the right to choose our own fate. And if I die, I'll die knowing I did everything I could to stop you. And I'll die free" Shepard said full of determination, she couldn't do it, none of these 'solutions' made sense to her, she could only assume the crucible was just a big trap from the reapers to get her to do what they wanted either that or we built this thing wrong

"So be it" the child said with harbinger's voice this time "the cycle continues" with the child's voice again

"Like hell it does!!!" a male voice said over Shepard's comm

"Hackett?!" Shepard replied surprised and confused "what..... how..... were you listening?"

"Every last word Commander and we're all a hundred percent behind you, we won't be winning by getting helped by a reaper, we win for ourselves or we die trying!!" Hackett said

"Then so be it...." Shepard said mocking one of the AI last statements

"You will all die, the crucible is the only way" the AI replies, still with the child's voice

"Then we will die free, and we will die FIGHTING!!" Shepard said as she discharged her gun at the AI's head, though it disappeared after the first few shots "Hackett, can you get me out of here?... I don't plan on leaving all the fun to you" she said full of confidence again, although she felt awful, she tried to sit for a bit but ended up lying down on the floor, she decided to stay like that for a moment

"It's gonna be difficult, but I'm sure Joker won't mind a little challenge" Hackett replied

"Of course he won't" Shepard said amused, but as she waited there, lying on the floor, she could see the fight from there, the alliance and alien fleets were getting decimated by the reapers "Hackett we gotta organize if we wanna win this thing, tell the units to regroup and attack one reaper at a time if possible… and patch me through so I can speak to all of them"

Hackett took a moment and then replied "It's done, talk now Shepard"

She took a deep breath "soldiers… this is Commander Shepard, the crucible is not an option anymore, stop defending it, we can't use it" she said with regret "I know you all thought this was our last chance, but don't lose hope, don't stop fighting. We can win this!!! Remember what you're fighting for, your friends, your family, your loved ones, the future of all the races in the universe, they're all trusting in you, in us!! We can do this!!! We can defeat the reapers by our own means!!! Show them not to underestimate us!! LET'S GIVE THEM HELL!!!" she could hear cheers over the comm when she finished talking, she wasn't sure if they could truly win, but she sure as hell wasn't gonna go down without trying. She closed her eyes for just a second....

"Shepard?" who was calling her "Shepard, Normandy here, we're coming to get you"

"Joker... glad to hear your voice..." she said with effort "I think I'll patiently wait here if you don't mind" she was so tired

"Hang on Shepard!!" Joker said "I'm getting through the reaper's defenses, since you disagreed to go with the reaper overlord's plan, they've stopped defending the citadel, just hang on a little longer, don't you dare dying on us now!!"

"No....sir, wouldn't dream of it" she said. After a few moments she saw the Normandy getting closer and landing, the door opened and Liara was the first one to come out, half limping half running to her, when she got there she threw herself over her body hugging her, it was hurting her a little but she didn't care

"I thought I'd lose you again" Liara said tearing up, Shepard could hardly move but she managed to put a hand on her cheek "I'll never leave you again" Shepard said smiling at her "and shouldn't you be on the medb---" Liara interrupted her with a kiss and replied "look who's talking, come on let's get you out of here" Shepard hadn't noticed but Garrus was already there to help her get to the Normandy along with Liara

"Good to have you back Commander" said Joker when she stepped in

"Told you I'd be back before you knew it" she replied "now get us out of here joker, we have a war to win"

"Aye, aye, Commander" Joker said as he returned to the controls again

"And you need to come to the medbay Commander, let's patch you up" said Dr Chakwas, who Shepard hadn't realized was there

"My place is here doctor the fight is not....." she coughed "over yet"

"No, but your fight might be over soon if we don't give you some medical attention" Dr Chakwas replied

"Fine.... but just give me the necessary to keep me going a while longer" she complied

"Fair enough" Dr. Chakwas said "quickly bring her over"

Dr Chakwas stayed true to her word, she patched up Shepard real quickly and in a few moments she was back limping on to the bridge with Garrus's and Liara's help "what's the situation Joker?" She asked

"not good Commander, our fleet is getting badly damaged, we've managed to destroy 2 reapers by going full at them one at a time like you said, but there are still a lot of them, and our numbers keep going down by the minute" Joker replied

"Dammit!! There must be a way to defeat them...." she thought of her conversation with the reaper AI... maybe.... "Joker patch me through with Admiral Hackett"

"Patching through" said Joker

"Commander I hope you have some good news because the situation is not looking good" Hackett said

"I'm not sure if it will work sir, but I just thought of something" Shepard replied "the reaper AI said that he created the reapers, that he controlled them, so I was thinking, maybe if we destroy it......"

"…We destroy the reapers" Hackett finished

"Or at least we weaken them" Shepard replied

"But how do we destroy it?" Hackett asked

"Well there was a moment when the AI talked with Harbinger's voice, I've heard it enough times to recognize it" Shepard said "So… maybe the AI is actually Harbinger? Our data says that Harbinger is the oldest Reaper in their ranks, maybe he is the first reaper ever created, if he's not the AI maybe he's connected to it somehow?"

Hackett considered this for a moment "I guess that's our best shot right now" he said "everyone, change of plans, attack Harbinger, I repeat, attack Harbinger, every ship in the fleet, aim for Harbinger, we need to destroy him, give him everything you got!!!"

-----

"It was a long and terrible battle, after defeating Harbinger somehow, all the other reapers shut down for a split moment and then they started attacking again, but they were… weaker, slower, we could actually avoid their attacks, their shields weren't as impenetrable as before. It was the first of many victories, defeating Harbinger was the hardest part, many lifes were lost but we gained much in return, apart from the reapers being weaker now, we started gaining knowledge, knowledge of our enemy.

"After that first victory on earth we salvaged the remains of the reapers we defeated, and while our soldiers were risking their lives on the front lines many groups of scientists worked hard to learn from what we found, even though the reapers were weaker now we still could use their technology to develop an edge against them, new ways to resist, new ways to fight, the first was a signal that when used by multiple ships it could disrupt the reaper's shields making them even weaker and thus the reaper was easier to destroy, we also developed better weapons, better kinetic shields for our ships that made them more resistant to the reaper's attacks; later we upgraded the signal I said earlier allowing it not to only disrupt the reaper's shields but also to disrupt their sensors, they could not detect us as easily so surprise attacks were possible sometimes. Of course we also used this reaper tech to upgrade our weapons and defenses on our ground troops, even though reaper ground troops were weaker now too, husks were slower, banshees biotics weren't as powerful as before, brutes didn't charge as often, marauders defenses were lower, ravagers didn't spawn swarmers anymore.

"But this didn't mean we didn't have loses, we lost many lives, we lost cities, entire planets, but we learned from it too, we learned to work together, to help each other, without that, our victory would have never been possible. It was a slow and painful war that lasted from 10 to 12 years, but in the end we won, we did the impossible, and it's all thanks to Commander Alais Sh---"

"What are you doing my love?"

"Alais!" Liara said shocked "you scared me, I'm sorry did I wake you?" She was on her study, which was right next to their bedroom, sitting on her desk, the time capsule she had started to make so many years ago in front of her

"No, I just woke up and didn't find you beside me" Shepard said walking toward her "So I decided to come looking for you, in case someone had taken you away from me" she teased as she leaned forward and kissed her softly on her forehead, she chuckled

"I just couldn't sleep so I decided to come finish my little project I started so long ago" She said pointing to the time capsule "although no longer for the purpose I created it for thankfully"

"Oh yeah I remember… I can't believe it's been so long" she said, nostalgia on her face "but… what is its purpose now then?" she wondered

"Well now it's only a reminder to future generations to not let history repeat itself, and to not forget that union makes strength, work together above all" she replied "I don't want some future race to forget this and create another 'catalyst' again" she said annoyed

Shepard laughed "I like how you think" she offered her hand to help her up and then brought her closer, putting her other arm around her waist "one of the many reasons why I love you" and she kissed her passionately, and then…

"Mom? Dad?" that broke them apart, their little daughter was standing on the door of the study, sleepy "I had a nightmare"

Shepard and Liara looked at each other amused "you did?" said Shepard walking toward her daughter and carrying her "what monster dare scares the daughter of Commandeer Shepard?" she said smiling at her "come on back to your bedroom Benezia, I'll scare those monsters away and stay till you fall back sleep, ok?"

"Ok…" Benezia said as she put her arms around Shepard's neck

"I'll meet you back in bed in a sec" She whispered to Liara smiling

"All right" she whispered back as she looked at that beautiful picture, the two most important people in her live. 'Oh well, guess this is almost finished anyway' she turned off the time capsule and put it away on her desk, 'I better go back to bed, maybe sleep will find me now' She went back into the bedroom and got into bed, after a few moments she saw Shepard coming in "Is she back to sleep already?" she asked

"Yeah, I just told her a story" she said as she walked towards the bed "her favorite actually" she smiled and got into bed

"Really? And what is that?" Liara asked as she put her head on Shepard's shoulder, and Shepard put her arm around her

"The one where I rescue my favorite beautiful blue scientist from a desolate planet where she managed to get herself trapped in" she said as she caressed her cheek with her hand

Liara laughed "Is that her favorite? Or yours?"

"Well you know what they say, like father like son, or daughter in this case" she chuckled, they stayed like that for a moment, and then Shepard said "Liara I've been thinking… don't you think it's time we got ourselves another child?"

That took Liara aback "Really?" she said as she looked at Shepard

"Well yeah, wouldn't you like that? I mean I gotta admit I thought I would be really bad at this parenting thing, but… I actually like it, I love our daughter so much, I don't see a reason why we couldn't have another one" she said "There's peace in the galaxy, what better moment than this to make our family bigger? Sure Thessia is not completely rebuilt yet, but we've managed to have a good life here and to give our daughter the life she deserves, we can keep doing that for another child"

Liara didn't know what to say except "Yes…" and she kissed Shepard "I love you Alais" and she kissed her again

"I love…. When you call me by my name" Shepard said and Liara gave her a playful punch laughing, Shepard laughed too "I was kidding… I love you too Liara"
well after playing the EC and seeing the refusal option, i thought, I hoped, Bioware had actually listened but then..... came the slap in the face.... "no you lose, everyone's dead,go pick red, green, or blue" it made me angry, and then it made me sad, sad that Bioware had wasted this opportunity to make an EPIC ending and instead decided to troll their fanbase as always, well at least i feel that way, no offense to those who still love Bioware or had their faith restored in them with the EC

But anyway seeing as they weren't gonna give us the ending a lot of fans wanted, well the ending I wanted, I won't speak for other people, I decided to write how I expected and hoped the Refuse ending would play out if I had enough EMS and made all the right choices through the trilogy :)

At first i thought well let's make Shepard and company win conventionally, but it has been stated so many times that it can't be done (even though the whole series bases itself in going against impossible odds AND winning, but whatever) that i didn't want to go against it, so I thought well if the godchild created and controls the reapers and he's part of the citadel, why not destroy the citadel hence destroy him? maybe that would destroy the reapers too, and....wait.... that was part of the problem in the first ending (the destruction of the citadel)...and there are probably still a lot of people in there, and the citadel is much times bigger than a reaper, is it even possible to destroy it?..... (apparently yes but it would take several days as i read on ME wiki) so no, what was I thinking :lol: and then I remembered the "so be it" line, delivered in Harby's voice (well it sounded like harby's voice to me) and thought of the Indoc Theory well what if harby IS actually the reaper AI, he's supposedly the oldest reaper, maybe he's the first one ever, so even if he's not the reaper AI maybe he's connected to it somehow? well that kinda made sense to me xD so I decided to go with that, but more with the connection part than Harby being actually the AI, so if that was the case (and given that I actually wanted a fight with the reapers, not winning by a magic space explosion that kills them all) I thought well we (supposedly) can't beat the reapers conventionally because they're too strong, so why not making them weaker by killing Harby? xD so that's what I did, I wanted to describe the fight properly but I'm not that good of a writer :( so I decided to make some sort of an overall narration on how the war was won, and I thought of the Refuse ending we got, and Liara's time capsule seemed like a good way to do it xD

Wow that was long ._. (If you're still reading, thank you :lol: ) so anyway this is my ending to my Shepard's Journey, I refuse all of Bioware's endings, I wanted my happy ending and my little blue children and they refuse to give them to me so I made my own :XD:

If you like it please comment I would love to hear your opinion, and if you don't, tell me why and we can have a civilized conversation, please refrain from making hate comments :) as always constructive criticism will be well received :)

Also I don't know if there are any plotholes in my story, I did my best to keep them from happening, I'm familiar with ME lore but not as much as other fans, so if anyone finds one please let me know and I will try my best to fix it :)
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7th Sky Corp. – The 212th Attack Battalion –


Called across the galaxy; following the wake of the Jedi.
Ordered to Teth, Christophsis, Ryloth, Umbara, even back to Geonosis.
Missions have been completed with valorous success.
Missions have also gone awry with tragic costs.
Attacking Coruscant was a desperate measure for the CIS.
Not one planet allied to their cause will elude the souls of our boots.
Down and down their capitals will crumble.
Enigmatic our missions have become.
Rifts are forming in the sand of Utapau as my troops tight-rope down.

Called by the Supreme Chancellor’s Office on my comlink.
Order 66
Destroy the Jedi at all cost with extreme prejudice.
You should have died in that fall… If only that order came in before I handed you that    
                                  bloody saber…
A beloved group to say the least!

No commander is listed in the title..but if you look closely down the side..well, you'll figure it out ;)

Feel free to leave a comment or thought! Enjoy!

If you'd like to see another group or Jedi, just shout!
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Systems Alliance Earth HQ, Vancouver, Earth, Sol, Local Cluster.



Shepard found himself alone in the dark, the solid walls relentlessly enclosing around him. The pressure pounding him was suffocating, his eyelids was growing heavy, then a sudden beam of light drew his gaze towards a barred window. He mustered his scattered strength to get up on his feet, pulling himself to the tiny window in the dark cell.
A city was engulfed in flame, the haunting horns of the Reaper horn could be heard resounding over the sky. "No…No…" his fists bashed helplessly against the cell bars.
He was abruptly drawn to the sight of 10 reaper destroyers pursuing an Alliance vessel. The unmistakable silhouette helped Shepard to identify the Normandy SR-2, dodging an unrelenting barrage of high-energy laser with a series of acrobatic evasive maneuvers. With a blink, his sight was attached on the Normandy itself. From orbit, he could see the planet's once towering metropolises consumed by the Reaper downpour. Cairo, Cape Town, Madrid, Jakarta, Emden, Seoul, Shenyang, Warsaw, all of them lost.
The Normandy pulled up to break off from orbit, only to take a laser beam at its portside and knocked out its cyclonic barrier. He watched as it desperately steered right to evade incoming fire, before a second precision laser beam sent its hull into an exploding death trap, completely blinding his sight.
His body returned to the dark cell again, left to rot and wither in the darkness.



"You fight against the inevitable, Shepard. Dust struggling against cosmic winds…"

==

Shepard woke up gasping on his bed, with a cold chill running down his spine.
"Just a nightmare…" He peeked at the holographic clock on a drawer next to his bed, it was still 8 in the morning, the 14th February, 2186.
"Today it's Valentines' Day, and yet I'm stuck in house arrest." he sighed then slowly paced to a large window with a scenic sight of the city of Vancouver. The scene drawn out some distant memories of Shepard, the February night was chilling, he cuddled himself around the knees to get some warmth. He had watched couples walking by with their arms locked tight on each other, holding delicate gifts in their palms, but then all he could do was to sit in that alley in his ragged clothes, still bloodstained from his last brawl with a local gang…


Pushing those old memories away, he shoved his fingers into the pile of holo-movies he's been hoarding since his house arrest. "Um… Fleet and Flotilla, finished last week. Hamlet: All Elcor Cast…almost choked myself at that one. Blood Rage Unleashed…watched over 2 times. Citadel Musical …nobody's watching that. Blasto: The Hanar Spectre…alright I'll give it a try."
The screen from the omni-tool player flickered open. Before the intro was played , a tall, muscular figure sudden barged in through the door.


"Commander. Uh, sorry, Shepard, I don't know you are busy" said James Vega saluting him. "I told you not to call me like that anymore, Lieutenant." Shepard closed his omni-tool player and stood up to greet his friend, "So, what's this about?"
"Someone wanna see you down in the lobby."
"What? Don't tell me it's another interview or tribunal again."

"The reception didn't specify who but come on, it isn't like you got anything better to do, loco." He gave a smirk and gestured to leave the apartment.
"Alright, lead the way, James."
They swiftly strode through the halls of the Alliance HQ. When the elevator door opened at the lobby level, he inhaled deeply to prepare himself for the barrage of questions waiting for him before he stepped out into the waiting lounge. Awkwardly, there were no reporters or some bureaucrats waiting…


"Shepard!" a familiarly pleasant voice called out to him, and he knew there was no mistake.
Liara reached out her palms and put them on Shepard's arms.
"I missed you." She leaned closer and whispered into his ears.
"I made a promise, remember?" Shepard replied by pressing his head gently to her cheeks, embracing her scent as it swelled over him.
"Uh…uh… I better get going, see you later Commander." James turned away in a bizarre manner and hurried into the elevator nearby. Though Shepard was pretty sure he gave a blink at him before the door closed.
Knowing that they are not watched, Shepard grabbed hold her palm and led her to a position against a wall next to the lounge. Liara had realized his intentions and welcomed it by looking at him with an arousal smile, Shepard returned it by tenderly pressing his lips onto hers.
"Shepard, everyone is watching us!" she giggled as a flush spread over her cheeks. Shepard looked back and saw a crowd of Alliance officers and soldiers gathered in a semi-circle, their curious staring left him speechless.


Liara grabbed hold of the brief seconds to drag Shepard to in a less crowded corner. "I'm sorry about that, didn't mean to embarrass you." He gestured to sit down on a nearby bench. "No, it's my fault. I should have called you before I come."
"You haven't told me why you'd come here, I thought you'd be on Hagalaz."
"I have some research to do at the Mars Archives, the Prothean ruins there may contain some information I am currently tracing, something that may help us when the reapers come. I just need to grab some necessary items on Earth before heading out to Mars. Besides, Admiral Hackett was the one who gave me access to the archives. He also… mentioned that you were kept here."

"You came for me." He thanked her with a light kiss.
"Well, I did remember my promise to you." She locked her arm with Shepard's. "Meanwhile, I ran search over the extranet recently. I learnt that today is a special occasion in human traditions, one that you share with your… bondmates."
Liara lowered her head, like what she always does when she feel shy.
"Yeah, that's the idea. How about we…"
"I'd love that, but I still have some business to attend to, but I do have some free time later. May be tonight?"
"Tonight."
He nodded to assure her.



==

After giving his farewell, Shepard then hurried back into the elevator and up to the residential wing of the Alliance HQ complex. His heart pounding vibrantly in his chest with uncertainty, he knew well this might be his last chance to be with her.
When the door opened, he found James standing next to it with his arms crossed and a smirk on a face. "Hey, how did it go, Commander?" "Laugh it up, James." He tagged along when Shepard walked past him. He had to keep up with Shepard's speed as he quick-paced through the halls. "Hey, where're you goin'?"
"Visit a friend." Replied Shepard without looking back, he eventually stopped at the Alliance Café counter. "Shepard, good to see you still kickin'" Rupert Gardner's bold, rough voice greeted him.
"It's nice to see you again, Rupert. Listen, I have a favour to ask."<i.



==

It was deep in the night by the time Liara returned to the Alliance HQ, the once bustling halls now fell into silent. She followed Shepard's message and made her way to a secluded balcony overlooking the city.
A mellow scent of Asari honey mead filled up a cozy atmosphere warmly illuminated by a set of candle lights. Shepard stood waiting next to a set of dining table. "Come on in."
They took their time to have their dinner. Unlike the many times before, they did not have to dine in the Normandy's mess hall or to worry about the next mission.



==

He found Liara leaning against a rail after he had finished cleaning up the tables.
"You know, the view is probably better up there." He gestured to lead her to an elevated platform just next to the balcony. Grabbing hold of her hand, Shepard gave her a lift to the platform.
Liara gently rested her head on his chest as they cuddled up on the floor under the nighttime sky, densely dotted by a trillion stars sparkling in the milky way, she gasped at the wondrous scenery hanging above them. "It's easy to forget how beautiful this galaxy is, isn't it?"
"Only when someone even more beautiful is sitting right next to me."
"Flatterer. But knowing that the Reapers are still out there, and that you will do whatever it takes to save the galaxy. Goddess, what if… if?"
"Shhh…"He tried to comfort her by caressing her while wiping the tear droplets off her cheeks. "No matter what happens to us, I know that somewhere, up there, we can have a place free of the terror of this war. Together, Liara, we can do it." He reached out for her right hand and held it tightly as he placed their interlocked fingers on his chest.
Looking back at her love's eyes, Liara found them gleaming with tiredness. She need not meld their minds to touch the torments dwelling deep within it.
"Actually I'm more worried about you than myself. How are you really?"
"I've been having nightmares, I saw the Normandy destroyed, Earth in flames. The fact that every minute I'm kept here is another minute we lost to prepare ourselves scares me. So many lives will be lost, I just don't know if I'm ready for this."
"If you wish, I may be able to help you."
"Of course I do."
"Close your eyes."


His world darkened into emptiness, the plain black curtains encompassing him retracted and all of a sudden he was re-witnessing the spine-chilling images from his nightmares. He was back in that dark cell again, watching Earth consumed in fire. But this time, a bright yet comforting white flash materialized in front of him, shattering the nightmares into ashes and carried them off in its path. When the blinding flash went past him, Shepard opened his blurred eyes again. He found himself standing under a doorway next to a living room with Liara leaning on him, her radiant blue skin tone was brightened by the mild rays of a setting sun. They watched as two Asari babies played with a pony toy on the floor. "Daddy!" they ran into Shepard's hug, who then lifted them up to his shoulders. Their vivacious smiles drew a contented, peaceful one from him in return. He looked back at Liara and closed in for a kiss as the sun sank beneath the horizon behind them. The image of them together gradually faded to a silhouette.


Shepard woke up at the sight of Liara's crystal-clear bluish iris gazing upon him.
"I love you, thank you, for everything."
Okay, so this one took significantly longer time to write than I expected. Anyway, I always thought that there's a lot of details between Mass Effect 2 and 3 going missing. Especially the relationships between Shepard and his/her team or love interest. So, I created this to fill up the relationship gap between the two games, especially after you completed the Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC.
Be sure to listen to this while reading it to improve the immersion: [link]

Mass Effect series and all Characters Mentioned belongs to Bioware
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