#rc-1262

I wanted to make a rough drawing for May the 4th, but I just can't seem to draw armor in a simple way. So of course, I'm late this year again.

I started with a rough style for Sev and ended up with a cleaner one for Boss. In the end, I had to rework the characters several times so they would all look consistent.

I used Magic Poser Web to make the reference for the whole drawing. I initially planned a more classic back view of the characters, but while experimenting with the tool, I ended up liking the top view better.

For Mird, I used this nice walking dog 3D model to help with the anatomy (along with some Shar Pei references). I reused my previous design I made for it, but this time I fixed the legs so it has four back legs instead of four front ones. I tried several poses for the front leg and ended up choosing the one that felt the most dynamic. I'm pretty proud of the result.

The cockpit was quiet and peaceful when you were the only one awake. Scorch never liked the silence. He had told Sev that when he was still and alone, his thoughts grew too loud, but Sev didn’t mind being the one up late to make sure the ship stayed on course without incident. Sure, he was tired and his muscles ached from being in the heat of battle for days without end, but Boss would be up to relieve him soon. For now, he got to cherish his time alone and enjoy the view that being in hyperspace gave him.

The door behind him hissed open.

“Trouble sleeping?” Sev asked. Boss wasn’t supposed to be up for another hour.

“How can anyone sleep with Fixer snoring louder than the engines?”

Sev turned to look, not at Boss, but at Scorch. His brother crossed his arms and leaned against the control panel. Fixer’s snores were as annoying to Scorch as Boss’s gravely cough had been to Sev the last couple of missions. At least gargling bacta could keep their Sergeant’s coughs at bay for some time. Fixer’s sinuses didn’t care if he drank the entire container, his snores weren’t going away anytime soon.

“Plan H240.” Scorch shot a mischievous smile at his brother. “I’m doing it.”

“He’s going to kill you.” Sev shook his head and fought down the smile trying to creep onto his face. Plan H240 had always just been a joke, but he couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about seriously doing it himself.

“You can keep my helmet to remember me by,” he snorted and headed for the door. “What do you think would be big enough to use?”

Sev cast one last look out the viewport to make sure everything still looked fine before following Scorch. This was something he didn’t want to miss. He could already hear the sound that elicited Scorch’s loathing before they had even made it to the bunks. The almost perfect repetition of it echoed softly around them. He almost felt bad for his older brother. It wasn’t like Fixer was doing it on purpose, and sleep was such a rare and precious thing to all of them, but his curiosity to how it would all play out kept him from stopping what was about to happen.

Scorch rummaged around as quietly as he could until he pulled out a medium sized jug that he waved in the air triumphantly then headed for the ‘fresher. Light spilled across the floor as the door opened. Boss shifted in his sleep, his breathing hitching for just a moment before resuming it’s steady, deep pace. Sev shot a quick look at the two sleeping Commandos as the sound of water flowing from the tap whispered its way toward him. Waking any Commando suddenly was dangerous. Waking them this way was unfathomable…. And they called him psycho. They all needed to take a harder look at Scorch.

Water sloshed over the edge of the jug slightly as Scorch moved silently across the room. Sev felt like he was watching a large beast stalk its prey through thick underbrush. He hesitated as he loomed over Fixer’s sleeping form. His eyebrows knitted together. His teeth dug into his bottom lip. For a moment, Sev thought that Scorch had changed his mind.

Until the water made contact with Fixer’s face.

The Commando jolted upward, his head hitting the top of the bunk. Scorch jumped back instantly. Sev inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“Kriff!” Fixer shouted, grabbing his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Boss was awake.

Fixer stood up, water dripping from his body and falling to the durasteel floor like rain. Sev knew that Fixer was just as lethal as the rest of them. He had seen his brother kill on several occasions, and he also knew that Fixer preferred hands-on combat with a melee weapon better than anything else, and right now, Sev found himself grateful that Fixer was only in his blacks.

“What the kark is wrong with you?” he shouted when spotted the empty jug in his brother’s hands. Fixer slammed his palms roughly against Scorch’s chest. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Boss stepped between the two and nodded toward the ‘fresher. “Go dry off.”

His tone left little room for argument, but Fixer didn’t move instantly. He only stood there glaring into his younger brother’s eyes as if trying to rip out his soul through his eye sockets. Boss stood unwaveringly between them until Fixer turned away and disappeared through the door of the ‘fresher before turning to look at the smug grin on Scorch’s face.

“What the hell possessed you to do that?” Boss asked, folding his arms across his chest. His face was set in the ‘no-nonsense, serious boss’ look that he used mostly when dealing with Jedi.

Scorch shrugged. “C’mon, Boss. Don’t act like you’re not tired of his snoring too.”

Boss narrowed his eyes. “You won’t have to worry about his snoring because after you clean up the water, you get to keep watch in the cockpit for the foreseeable future.”