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Revolutions Wrapped in Cute Ribbon

Cal Kestis

Star Wars
Posts
121
Age
20
Species
force-sensitive human
Occupation
Jedi/Scrapper
Profile
link
Chicago-Terran Class C Planet ‘Earth’
2011-Galatic Year 10EMB

@Fiona Gallagher

AU Shamless/Star Wars: Where Ian is sold to the Jedi by Frank as a baby and comes back as Cal Kestis years later.

Grizz was going to kill him. Scratch that: Grizz was going to dump him in a snarlacc pit and let it eat him alive for tens of thousands of years.

He’d just borrowed the Mantis for a little resource gathering, left Grizz and Cere at their hideout, promised that he would take care of her. Aka Grizz’s girl, aka the Mantis ship. When he’d run headfirst into an Empire fleet that was looking exactly for him. Well fuck him to the universe and back.

So he entered lightspeed and jumped to the most backwards, foreign, and desolate galaxy in the known universe. The ‘Milkyway’. Eight planets, one dwarf, only one that had sentient life and it was Class C life. Terra, known by it’s residents as ‘Earth’, was gaining more technology necessary for space travel. But constantly squandered their potential. As far as the Republic, and now Empire, was concerned they were not quite ready.

Which made it a perfect hiding spot from the Empire. No one wanted to visit Terra. It was full of pollution, and it’s technology wasn’t even that good. They were always fighting some civil war amongst themselves. Just a mess of violence.

Problem was: it was quite a few lightyears away to jump. Cal burnt out the lightspeed engine. And as he landed in the outskirts of a city (his cloaking technology easily hiding him from detection), he realized he’d need to build a new one. From whatever Terra had just laying around.

Simple…. Right?

Luckily he was a humanoid like the Terran residents. He still kept his hoodie up on his poncho as the Chicago rain picked up. BD-1 was hidden in his bag around his shoulder, every once in a while peeking out of the bag curiously at the people. Another benefit? Everyone was staring down at their communication devices or definitely not looking at him in the eye. He peeked out from his hoodie, at least the rain was slowing…

There were plenty of beat-up looking vehicles on the side of the street he could scavenge from. But he disliked the idea of just…. Taking from these people. Looking at them, they had the same worn down look as people on Bracca. Scrappers just trying to get by.

A boy was sitting on some steps. And oddly…. The Force was telling him to ask him. And Jedi take the Force seriously. Cal walked up, putting down his hoodie and smiling down at the young man. ”Hi there! Is one of your parents home?”

The boy looked up at him and gave him a scowl (giving Cal an interesting feeling that he knew that scowl from somewhere). ”Fuck off, Ginger-bitch!” And he drew back his arm and punched at Carl’s crotch.

Now here was the thing. Messing with space ships means a lot of nuclear residue. Which means most scrapper uniforms were lined and protected with some measure of anti-nuclear radiation. Especially well-coated was the crotch, for obvious reasons. So the poor kid didn’t punch just some balls. No….

He punched a thick layer of titanium. Cal winced, trying to draw away, pulling up a thigh to protect the kid’s hand, but the kid clearly felt the impact. Drawing away, holding his hand, then his tears welled up and he burst out in tears.

”Oh no… no no no don’t cry.” Cal knelt down, taking out a cooling sim from his belt. ”Let me see….”

”Don’t. Fucking. Touch…..” The boy hyperventilated off, staring down at his hand as Cal firmly but gently grabbed it, spraying the blue mist onto his knuckles, setting there and temporarily dying it blue as it cooled the inflamed area. ”….. What the fuck? It doesn’ hurt…” he took his other hand, wiping away some snot, and wiping it almost absent-mindedly on Cal’s poncho before turning around and running into the house.

”Fiona! Check this out! My knuckles all blue now!”

Cal winced, putting away the cooling spray and curiously looked within the home. ”Um….. hello?”
 

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Pinder, schminder. People should just stick with archery contests, and base all future dates on the results.
All of ya deserve love. Don't forget that. Even the skeleton fella who yells at cats and then laughs to himself
WHAT!? YOU NAMED THE AMPHITHEATER AFTER ATHENA!? But she's not even an artist! She's a boring stick in the mud! What do you do there? Watch old women weave all day? This is egregious! Egregious I tell you!
Hello mortals! It was a beautiful day today wasn't it? I know. I know. No need to thank me. But you're welcome anyways. ;)
This is P5 Royal Battle. It's on sale

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