Crosshair: “WE DON’T WORK WITH REGS.”
...also Crosshair: “ALL HAIL THE EMPIRE!”
Crosshair: “WE DON’T WORK WITH REGS.”
...also Crosshair: “ALL HAIL THE EMPIRE!”
Last week on one of my super rare jaunts outside my house because Florida is a Covid swamp I double-masked up and ran to Levi’s at Disney Springs at opening to drop off my Phoenix Squadron jacket for the last of its custom embroidery, and since it was totally empty, I made the little walk up to the Star Wars Outpost to see if anything new came in.
While waiting in line to pay for a cute little Baby Yoda I’d been waiting for, I stood behind a single dude, no friends or family around, who was holding in his arms five sets of Imperial binders.
It has been a week and I’m still thinking about that dude and his five sets of Imperial binders. On one hand I vehemently and aggressively do not want to know what he’s doing with them and with whom, but on the other, I truly hope he’s happy and living his best life.
Imperial Guard - Astra Militarum - Heavy Weapon
I’ve always fear to ruin the drawing with a bad colour phase. What do you think? Are the colours enriching the picture or ruin it?
Lana : Hey commander! *Gives him the comlink* It's Vette, your girlfriend
Sith Warrior : Oh you god damn asshole how many times must I remind you? Vette is not my girlfriend! *Takes the comlink* Hello baby
ladies & gentlemen........her
Ashara : I love you
Sith Inquisitor : Oh yea? Then why should I trust you? Everyone I knew was wild and savage like some mad dogs!
Ashara : ...
Sith Inquisitor : Aren't you gonna say something in return?
Ashara : ...Meow
Other Half DDH Space Diamonds Imperial IPA (Picked up at Windmill Farms). A 4 of 4. Probably the best I’ve had from Other Half, and that’s saying quite a bit. Just an absolutely insane amount of varied tropical fruit in the nose on this, and a ton more to back it up in the body. A creamy body with a nice soft mouthfeel and a nice balance of bitterness in the background and fruit sweetness up front. Simply excellent.
Gen Two Imperial Thread here!
"DEAD MEN WALKING" (by Steve Lyons) Book cover art by Gray-Skull --- My DeviantArt My Twitter My Patreon
Krennic: Ugh, why did you invite me here?!
Tarkin: We didn’t.
Thrawn: You invited yourself.
Vader: No one likes you!
I kinda regret making a normie human for my latest Skyrim playthrough, but I wanted to do something new and different, because I always end up playing the same way.
...and I mean yeah I ended up doing blacksmithing and archery and stealth like I always do, BUT i’m also doing lots of quests and enjoying the game. But since I’ve sworn to try different stuff, that means I won’t be marrying Scouts-many-marshes this time... Probably. He’s so sweet though. But NO, I must find someone else.
Warhammer 40,000 2nd edition.
A nice reminder of what the Imperial Guard used to have before becoming the Astra Militarum and Cadian only!
When you accidentally unleash a chaos cult on a planet and leave it for your brother to clean up...
Grand Duke Michael Mikhailovich (1861-1929): The Marrying Kind (7 of 10)
Michael and Sophie’s first child was Anastasia ( after Michael’s sister.) Through her life she would be known as Zia. Four years later, the couple had a second daughter, Nadejna (Nada). Their last child, Michael, was born two years after Nada. He would be known through his life as Boy Torby.
The family eventually established themselves in Cannes where they were at the apex of the European social scene. They were able to live in Imperial style and Michael never lost touch with his Russian relatives, many of whom had summer villas there. Michael derived his income from his states in the Caucasus and a factory that bottled mineral water. The couple’s dinner guests included the Prince of Wales (who met his famous Mistress Alice Keppel at their house). They spent summers in England, autumns in Paris and returned to the Riviera to winter.
After going there to recuperate from his stroke, Michael’s father continued to live in Cannes where his daughter Anastasia had a villa. The rift between father and son mended. Michael was allowed to go to Russia for his father’s funeral and interrement.
Photos: Various photos of Miche-Miche, Sophie and their children. They were a handsome family.
Well that’s Loyat and Watcher One recreated in the cc. Just need to figure out agent Galen and I’ll have everyone on Ryscha’s second crew.
Astrakhan in the early 20th century
[So, @cinlat has been dabbling in a Sith au for her Fynta, with cameo slots available for various other characters to come hang out. And just the little bit of contemplation we had about where Ahuska might slot into this particular version of events, I wound up inspired enough to dabble with a scene! So welcome to an Ahuska who still wound up adopted into Mandalorian life, but has not forgotten/repressed her early years. Rather than their usual easy friendship, she and Fynta wind up butting heads more often than not and bumping into one another more than either would like. Apologies if I’ve gotten Fynta totally wrong, I will put up a disclaimer that I’m throwing this out here without any sort of proofing from Cinlat so she gets the final call as to the authenticity of this scene! I’ve also borrowed @askshivanulegacy’s Blakk for the ride, I think I needed a little cathartic fluff to counterbalance all the fluff-gone-wrong happening elsewhere hahahaha.]
‘Not on My Watch’
“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take a speeder…”
Ahuska lifted a hand to cut him off, raising a finger and shaking her head with a smile. It was no secret that the young bothan was soft for this particular Imperial Agent, even if her clanmates were quick to remind her that no self respecting human Kaas citizen would pursue anything more than a functional work relationship with her, a rudderless, stable-working alien.
She chose not to listen to what her clanmates had to say.
“Because a speeder won’t pull back when it feels the ice getting too thin or warn you when you cross a wampa’s path, that’s why.”
Cipher Blakk rolled his eyes and pulled the zipper of his insulated parka higher, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his face properly protected from the frankly absurd level of chill. “It’s not as though I plan to park on an ice sheet…”
“Uh huh, and you’ll know exactly what’s under the two inch layer of snow that’s just fallen…”
He huffed, and she laughed, opening the stall door against which she was leaning to lead out the young tauntaun buck she already had saddled and haltered. “Quit fretting. Thunder here is a solid ride and a soft touch, he won’t give you any problems, and I’d trust him over any autopilot to get you safely back to base if something goes wrong.” Blakk felt some unexpected warmth rise in his cheeks, and while he wondered for the thousandth time why she cared so much that he got back safely, the buck lowered his head to snuffle through Ahuska’s hair. She raised a hand to give the tauntaun a firm rub on the cheek and horn. “Yeah, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’ll be good for the Empire’s elite, won’t you? Won’t you my good soft woolly buddy…”
Ahuska’s ears flicked at the same moment as Thunder’s twitched, and a heartbeat later Blakk’s head turned as well, hearing the heavy rasp of an iron gate lifting.
Ahuska had been stationed on the remote Hoth outpost for the last month and a half, more than enough time to get to know the sound of every latch and door in the stables, and the animals that spent their lives here knew them even better. Her sky blue eyes turned to ice as she squinted, staring down into the lower level. “Who… oh.”
Her lips turned to a tight, flat line as she recognised the figure down below, and the coolness in her expression was enough to prompt Blakk to lift a brow. “Ahh, is something the matter…?”
“We’ll see. What is she… oh, oh no, no no no…”
The Cipher suddenly found himself with a set of reins thrust into his hands, with Ahuska taking the liberty of closing his fingers around them and squeezing tight. “What… what are you…?”
“Hold him. Hold him tight and don’t let go for a second, distract him with this if you can…” She shoved a pinkish rock of some sort toward him, and with his hands full he was forced to stoop and hold it under his chin, expression nothing short of bewildered.
“I don’t… oh, gods no,” Blakk had the profound discomfort of realising then that it was a block of salt, as Thunder pressed forward with an eager little warble and began to lick at it. He made a tiny sound of dismay. “Ahuska…!”
But she was already gone, not even sticking around to have a snigger at his predicament, darting down the stairwell rather than waiting on one of the stocklifts. “Oi! Oi, di’kut, what’n Kad’s name do you think you’re doing---!!”
The object of Ahuska’s anger turned, unnaturally blue eyes flashing with irritation, and then immediately turned back to the stall door she’d been about to open.
“Don’t you dare touch that! Who the hell authorized you to be down here and what the shab d’you think you’re doing opening straight up into the yards?” Rather than heading straight toward the Sith, Ahuska veered to the far wall where a harsh wind blustered through the now gaping entry to the outdoor paddocks, and slammed her fist against a set of controls.
“This animal is… Shen-Four-Seven, isn’t it?” Fynta Wolfe, Assassin for Sith Intelligence and Infiltration, glared at the Bothan stablekeep who stood firm in the gateway, as though she could somehow block her passage while the heavy gate groaned back shut. She cut a strong silhouette against the glaring white world outside, framed with reflected light and fluttering snowflakes.
“Star, yeah, that’s her.” Ahuska’s tone was curt. She didn’t enjoy dealing with Fynta any more than she explicitly had to. Never mind that the Sith knew far more about her than Ahuska was comfortable with, but the fact that Fynta thought she could just slip on some beskar and mingle amongst the clans as though she weren’t an out-and-out Sith grated at her terribly. The nerves struck were just… a little too close to home.
“Then she’s the one I’ve been assigned while I’m on duty here. And since I’m not here to take riding lessons, I don’t see why I need to answer to you of all people, stablekeep.”
Ahuska bristled as the steel gate locked shut behind her, putting an abrupt halt to the chill wind. “Maybe ‘cause every last one of these animals has been assigned to me while I’m on duty here, and I don’t give a damn if you’re the Emperor himself, you don’t take one outside without my say-so. Not a taun, not a vulp, not a gods-damned arctic womp-weasel! So you can take your fingers off that latch and let me do my job, or you can deal with the shab’la stampede you’re about to let loose. It’s stable master, by the way.”
Fynta knew Ahuska wasn’t the type to lie for the sake of a power trip. The bothan’s conviction and ferocity at this moment was enough to give her pause and slowly arch a brow, though her tone was flat and unconvinced. “Stampede. You mean the whole three out in the main yard.”
“Mmm.” Ahuska’s tone was equally flat, but there was something smug about the way she lifted her chin and stared down the bridge of her muzzle toward the Sith. “Those three first, if Thunder up on the balcony doesn’t fling himself over to beat them to it.” She gestured upward and over her shoulder with a thumb, toward where Blakk diligently kept a firm but wary hold of the tauntaun buck Ahuska had left in his care. The agent swiftly averted his gaze when he realised attention had momentarily turned his way. “Then the seven in the exercise yards ‘cause let’s face it, those fences aren’t gonna stop a buck in rut, and maybe the dozen in the outer…”
“A buck in rut?”
“I said what I said. I know it doesn’t look much like the seasons change here on Hoth, but believe me, there are seasons, and we’re in the thick of one right now. Your little Star there…” Ahuska dipped her head toward the stall door that Fynta remained precariously close to opening, though to her credit her fingers were looser on the handle than they had been moments before. “Is a very, very appealing little lady at the moment. She gets lead out through the back to be worked in the yards on the south ridge or not at all, and when she’s being groomed and treated in here this gate…” She slapped the metal surface behind her with the back of her hand. “Stays shut! I wouldn’t even recommend her for a mission today or tomorrow unless you were absolutely certain of no wild herds en route and let’s face it, you can never be certain of that…”
Fynta hadn’t exactly paled, but she was definitely looking less confident about taking her assigned mount out onto the slopes. She found herself feeling unwittingly grateful that the blasted bothan had been here to intercept her, and then an equal measure of furious at herself for feeling grateful at all. “Alright, alright, fierfek, just get me a more suitable animal ready as soon as you can, I’ve wasted enough time here already…”
“Of course, my Lord,” Ahuska’s grin was far too toothy, her flourished salute and bow far too exaggerated to be genuine. She enjoyed watching Fynta bite back her seething a little too much. “And let me know what shebs-for-brains gave you Star to begin with so I can have some words.”
“I’ll try to find out,” Fynta lied. No way in hell was she going to let Ahuska know that, in a bid to get herself in and out of Hoth as swiftly as possible, she might have forged a signature or two on a requisition document here and there, and arbitrarily assigned the tauntaun to herself. She straightened, stepping away from the stall, and stared Ahuska squarely in the eye. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”
She didn’t give Ahuska the opportunity to respond, making her way smartly off down a corridor. The bothan might come across as meek as a runt nerf calf most of the time, but Force be damned if she didn’t find a spine and a half where her animals were concerned. Fynta couldn’t decide whether she was impressed or irritated, and just found herself hoping that Ahuska would be able to find the same amount of backbone if anyone ever pressed her about matters that remained better left unspoken.
She really didn’t want to see another decent Mandalorian having their arm twisted into Imperial service.
Ahuska, meanwhile, had every intention of keeping Fynta waiting; she had another Agent of the Empire to finish dealing with first, and she wasn’t going to rush seeing Blakk and Thunder off soundly for the sake of a single agitated Sith. Her hackles were already smooth and the set of her ears fully relaxed by the time she made it back to the upper level, though the way Blakk’s wide-eyed gaze settled on her when she flashed him a grin threatened to dishevel her all over again.
“Didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”
“No, you were great- I mean he, he was great. Thunder was… great. Perfect. No trouble.”
Ahuska might have plenty of backbone when it mattered, but that didn’t stop certain moments making her utterly weak. She coughed into her hand, glancing aside as she took back the reins and returned the remains of the salt lick to her pocket. “Ahh, uh, right, good. Good! Where have you got your gear then? Better get him all loaded up for you.”
[And now a bonus for everyone who got this far, hahaha, have some zipped up Hoth geared little Imperials. Ahuska thinks they’re both ridiculous for complaining so much about the cold.]
Tnen and now Vladimir (Vladimir province)