a little commander colt scene from the most recent installment of cmon’s amazing series, raising warriors (set in @thefoundationproject‘s soft wars!verse, where i now live). wow i’m so glad everyone was totally fine after the battle of kamino! close one guys! :’)))
Dimly, Alpha was aware of the cadets springing into action. Crosshair started firing at the mass of droids, every shot resulting in another droid hitting the ground. Tech tapped frantically at his datapad, muttering about diverting any droid reinforcements. Hunter reached to pull a pair of vibroblades from a belt looped around his waist, throwing them at the super battle droids in the area. Wrecker bowled a piece of Kaminoan lab equipment from across the room, knocking down over a dozen.
All of this was recognized as if over a great distance. The majority of Alpha’s focus was stolen by Ventress and the hold she had on Colt.
Colt was a good man. He oversaw Alpha’s work with the ARCs and while Alpha normally would have resented the supervision, Colt had been one of his earliest trainees.
Commander Colt had been skittish as a trainee and a bit clumsy, but energetic and headstrong. He had earned the name when another trainee had laughingly compared him to a fathier colt - wobbly, uncertain, fast, and unbelievably stubborn. He had grown into his energy, though - become one of the hardest-working troopers Alpha had ever met. If Colt didn’t know something, he worked until he figured it out, and he was never reluctant to ask questions when someone knew more than he did.
Yes, Colt was a good man, a strong commander, and a favorite vod. Alpha couldn’t let Colt die, especially not the same way he had almost died on that failure of a mission.
Even if the thought of seeing those cold eyes and that disgusted sneer made his jaw clench until it ached.
Since the title of this is half of a Mando'a phrase, I had to dissect the phrase as I tried to figure out exactly which words I needed. And, since I think better when I physically write things down, there has just been a piece of paper with different versions of ‘Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc’ on my couch since this chapter was posted.
Tidiness really isn’t my strong suit, as you can guess.
