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I'm not a fan of horror, but I can appreciate when it's effectively done, which I think this episode was. And I liked that in the midst of all the horror each of the three protagonists got told something that they needed to hear but weren't necessarily ready to yet. Spock got Your human characteristics are a strength, not a failing (and shown, viscerally - pun intended - what happens to people who try to cut out vital parts of themselves, i.e., Una's Illyrian biology and Pike's explorer/commander identity). Kirk got You can't save everybody all of the time (and most especially you can't save family, whether it's David or Sam). And La'an got You're not Khan, you're not a monster, and you are one of us (meaning Starfleet, but also, less positively, possibly the dead).
How they deal with what they hear is interesting, though. Kirk, at this point, is a decent person but only just starting to become particularly self-reflective in the wake of the scavenger vessel from last season and parenthood in this, and pretty soon he's also bleeding out from a gut wound. It's not that he doesn't hear what he's told, but he's got a lot on his plate, so it kind of gets brushed aside - in the middle of dying, our decent guy is still trying to save La'an more than himself - or at best filed for later on.
Spock's already been on a journey of self-discovery, so he's in a reasonable place to start dealing with what he's told; once he's finally able to stop reacting and start acting, he resolves Trek's decades-old and frankly increasingly tedious ruminations on being half-this vs half-that with none of it adding up to a whole person by choosing not to cut out either his humanity or his Vulcanness, but to engage in a cultural practice that we know, thanks to Amanda and Michael, is (all snobbery aside) perfectly accessible to both species - namely logic - instead. Breaking out of that trap is what allows him to break out of the Griffin's trap and see what's really there.
La'an is the one whose journey of self-discovery re. her Augmented ancestry* has been increasingly forced on her, and who is profoundly unwilling to embark on it because she's afraid of what she might find, and so she doesn't hear what she's told. Instead, she hears what she fears, and what she fears begins to take her over to the point where she (temporarily) becomes it, like Rose Harper did before her. I'm so interested in where her story is going to go through the rest of this season - and I guess that if we really had to have That Episode last season, at least this is a good thing salvaged from it.
*And I wonder, just how recessive are those Augmented genes anyway, in a woman who can drink multiple Klingons under the table without getting so much as a hangover and has done so multiple times?
This low-key getting-on-each-other's-nerves wrangling is delightful and I want more of it as they make their way towards being besties and Erica letting Scotty ride pillion on her restored motorbike.
I'm trying to think of code names Kleya and Luthen could use when discussing assembling the Aldhani strike team over comms, and so far I've got Gorn as the Archaeologist/the Contact (i.e., he's the one on site), Vel as the Courier, Taramyn as the Security Guard, Cinta as the Assessor (because she's the one who checks what shape 'the artefact'/the team is in) and Nemik as the Removalist (who gets them out of there), but I'm stuck on something for Skeen. It's very annoying!
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Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Andor (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Characters: Kleya Marki, Davits Draven
Additional Tags: Post-Star Wars: Andor (TV) Season 02, Kleya Marki is not a wet cat, or a poor little meow meow, or any other kind of sodden mammal, she is a dragon, and certain things are going to fucking burnÂ
Summary: She's known since she was ten years old that bridges are for burning. Here, now, at the end of everything, why should anything be different?
Takes place in the same continuity as A Common Language.
~~~
What happens when two immovable objects meet. :)
Had it ready, thought I might as well post it. It’ll be a bit of a wait for Chapter 3, though...
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: Andor (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Characters: Kleya Marki
Additional Tags: Post-Star Wars: Andor (TV) Season 02, Kleya Marki is not a wet cat, or a poor little meow meow, or any other kind of sodden mammal, she is a dragon, and certain things are going to fucking burnÂ
Summary: She's known since she was ten years old that bridges are for burning. Here, now, at the end of everything, why should anything be different?
Takes place in the same continuity as A Common Language.
Posting this mainly as a commitment to keep working on it, so updates will be irregular, but they will happen.
Ugh, just got my first scambot comment on AO3, on the chapter I spent a year trying to write. Well, I say 'just' - it came on Monday, but either it was deleted after posting or someone else reported it or something else happened, because I never saw it on the site, and I hardly ever check the email account linked to my AO3 account so I didn't see it until just now and also, there's nothing I can do about it any more.
Nasty slimy weasel thing*. Wish I could set it on fire, and the kudos that came with it, which I was happy about when I saw it. Especially as it was on that chapter, which I was feeling weirdly fragile about already. I've blocked the account that sent it, but that doesn't do much.
I really hate how this spam/scam comment plague is making fic posting the opposite of fun.
Chapters: 7/8
Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & Sabine Wren, Sabine Wren & CT-9904 | Crosshair
Characters: Sabine Wren, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Ezra Bridger, Minor Original Character/s, Batcher the Lurca Hound (Star Wars), CT-9901 | Hunter, Emerie Karr, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Clone Trooper Deke (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: Intergenerational friendship, mentor-protegee relationship, Pre-Slash, Sabine needs a break, the whole Ghost crew needs a break actually, Sabine backstory, Sabine and Crosshair talk about art, Sabine does art, Crosshair is trying to be a good mentor and possibly succeeding, also Omega goes on a mission, and certain Sabine/Omega intimations are if not explored then at least entertained, okay let's call it Sabine/Omega pre-slash, not 100 per cent Rebels S4 compliant
Summary: In the aftermath of Malachor, Rex reaches out to an old friend to arrange some leave for Sabine, Zeb and Ezra, and Sabine, quite unexpectedly, gains a new one.
Re-sharing this because I finally got my brain into gear and tidied up the tags into something more accurate. :)
In this chapter, it’s time for the Specters to leave Pabu, but Crosshair has a few things left to say to Sabine first, and Sabine has a few more things to learn about Omega too.
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Chapters: 7/8
Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) & Sabine Wren, Sabine Wren & CT-9904 | Crosshair
Characters: Sabine Wren, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, CT-9903 | Wrecker, Ezra Bridger, Minor Original Character/s, Batcher the Lurca Hound (Star Wars), CT-9901 | Hunter, Emerie Karr, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Clone Trooper Deke (Star Wars)
Additional Tags: the ghost crew needs a break, Intergenerational Friendships, Sabine backstory, Sabine does art, certain Sabine/Omega intimations are if not exactly explored then at least entertained?, also Omega goes on a mission, and Sabine and Crosshair continue talking about art, Crosshair is trying to be a good mentor, I think he's getting there, farewells and possibilities, not 100 per cent Rebels S4 compliantÂ
Summary: In the aftermath of Malachor, Rex reaches out to an old friend to arrange some leave for Sabine, Zeb and Ezra, and Sabine, quite unexpectedly, gains a new one.
At last, I finished this chapter! It only took a year...and twenty-two days...and yes, I still have to write the epilogue...
Anyway, it’s time for the Specters to leave Pabu, but Crosshair has a few things left to say to Sabine first, and Sabine has a few more things to learn about Omega...
I'd caption this "In which Kleya fucks up everything for everyone, zero regrets", but let's face it, Dedra fucks everything up for herself entirely on her own, no assistance needed, Kleya was just the icing on the oh-look-it's-the-consequences-of-my-own-choices cake for Dedra.
Dulau stars in the world premiere production of Alexi Kaye Campbell’s Bird Grove
Oh, cool! What's On Stage just did a bonus episode of their podcast interviewing Elizabeth Dulau (Kleya from Andor) ahead of the press night (on 23 February) of her new stage show Bird Grove (written by Alexi Kaye Campbell), in which she plays Mary Ann Evans, the young woman who would eventually become the great Victorian translator, editor and novelist George Eliot. There's some great discussion of the play, and a few cool tidbits about Andor and Kleya too.
And now I'm really wishing I could teleport to London to see the play; it sounds like just my thing...
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Posting this first scene from a post-Andor story as a commitment to keep working on it even when writing feels like pulling teeth. It takes place in the same continuity as A Common Language, so hopefully (I really, really hope) working on this will unblock me enough that I'll finally be able to finish that too...
Bridges (are for burning)
The downpour cut out as abruptly as it had begun.
For a moment she almost didn’t notice, the drag of her boot-heels and the resurgent dull pounding in her feet and neck and head drowning out the sudden silence in her ears, but then heat surged up through the floorboards to fill the hut, thick as blood and stinking of rot, and choked her to a halt. She stood, stock-still, and fought to breathe as sweat began a sticky crawl through her hair and along her neck and down between her shoulder-blades, trickling down her breastbone and spine and under the waistband of her pants to pool behind her knees and plaster heavy fabric hot and tight against her skin.
Something scraped at her scalp, faint, insistent, infuriating. It wasn’t until she was able to force a hand up to her head against the weight of the hot air at last that she realised it was a hairpin, slipping loose – looser – amidst the snarl of hair that two days ago, or three, or maybe none at all, had been a nurse’s tidy bun. Under her fingertips the strands felt damp and rough, almost frizzy, from the humidity –
She’d stripped every last hint of curl ruthlessly out of it for the first time the night before they’d moved to Coruscant for good; Luthen had grumbled down the Fondor’s short corridor as she’d worked, something about inventory and time, but she’d ignored him, every pass of the smoothing iron a reminder to herself of what she needed to be for as long as they were there: sleek, shining, smiling, silent, a glossy empty mirror for the Empire’s great and greedy to see themselves reflected in and so see nothing at all.
The pin dropped from her fingers. The knot of hair slid further down her neck, but didn’t unravel; there was another pin in there somewhere, holding what was left of the tangle together, and she dug her fingers into the mess after it, wrenched the thing free and heard it skitter and bounce across the floorboards behind her, but it still wasn’t enough, there was still something –
There.
Hair tumbled loose, over her shoulders, down her back; suddenly she could breathe again, hear again, move again, and she wheeled around sharply towards the door. Somewhere outside – not close by, not this time – there were voices shouting and a platoon’s worth of boots sploshing down muddy tracks, and beyond them…
Her fist closed tight around the last pin.
Beyond them were the low grumble and rising whine of engine after engine as transport ships and fighters came and went from the base on Yavin IV.
Stay here, okay? Vel had said before she’d left, smiling that moist-eyed, pitying, patronising smile. There are no maps of Yavin Base, and no trail markers either. We don’t want you getting lost again, do we? I’ll show you around properly when you’re feeling better, just as if she hadn’t been finding her way through fields and trackless forests since before she was old enough to do up her own fucking shoes.
She flung the pin away hard behind her, hoping spitefully that it’d break something Vel cared about, and stalked out into the jungle without even waiting to hear it fall.
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