Specimen47

“There's another one.” Nicole sighs as she flicks the binoculars at my lap. They fall short of my thighs and bounce off the rough floor, flipping upside down as they come to a stop between us. I stare at the chaotic web of scratches that scar every visible inch of the black plastic—including the fresh ones cut deep, just now, on the underside. How she managed to keep a cheap piece-of-junk like this in one piece while out here in The Wastes is beyond me, but there it is. Miracles can happen. “No thanks,” I tell her. “I know what a Jimmie looks like.” Her shoulders bump upwards in a quick shrug and her palm

Anakin was not the eavesdropping sort—okay, who was he kidding, yes he was—but this... this he felt a little guilty for. He hid himself in The Force, disguising his presence and rendering himself invisible to the galaxy. Then he peeked around the corner. There she was. A little Togruta padawan who wasn't so little, or a padawan, anymore. She leaned forward on a supply crate, legs bent in front of her, as she whispered into the comlink in her hand. Anakin didn't have to ask. He knew it was Rex. It hurt that she couldn't confide in him—isn't that what padawans and masters should do?—but he understood. Understanding didn't

He woke up to the sound of shrill screaming and the offensive CLANG of pebbles colliding with the scrap metal over his one window. “Guh?” the blond mumbled confusedly into his drool soaked pillow, his half naked body tangled within a single, old gray sheet on an ancient and flattened mattress. Just above his head was a poor excuse of a shelf—small rusted metal nailed haphazardly to the wall. Pressed close to the wall on said outcropping rested a small silver device which beeped twice before humming to life, and shot a thin beam of light beside the blonde’s head below. The light morphed into the image of a miniature young w

It’s raining again. Ahsoka can feel the cold droplets seeping through the old fur-lined jacket she hugs tighter around herself. Her headtails are growing, and these days she doesn’t see the point in hiding them anymore. Any half-brained bantha could see she was a Togruta, anyway. And so what? There are lots of Togruta out there. She suppresses the urge to deliver a magnum sized kick to the small can shaped droid hobbling past her feet and looks up instead. Ice-cold drops hit her face. The tall permacrete buildings towering around her block out most of the sky. Everything looks gray. They’re nothing compared to the home she l

I had a dream, once. It was dark and I couldn’t see, so I walked. No direction, no reason, just walked. And it wasn’t the kind of dark that feels suffocating, that feels thick and tight and hides the monsters so you can’t tell if you’re imagining the gleam of a fang or the smell of blood. No. It was the kind of dark where you can’t tell your hand from your face and you can’t be sure if, with every step, that you’re actually moving. The kind of dark you imagine emptiness to be, and it stretched forever. Or it seemed like it did. And then, after walking for who knows how long, I stuck my hand out through t