Guess what people? This chapter is more than DOUBLE the size of my normal chapters! Very proud. I've been working hard. You're welcome.

No content warnings. Please enjoy another chapter of Bariss...

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Chapter 15

They were testing the Geonosian parasites down the hall. Bariss knew from the chatter of the clone scientists and the wrinkle in the Force.

It wasn't a disturbance, exactly. Not in the way the Jedi typically described a disturbance. It was very minor, with an odd sheen, like light on the wing of a butterfly, and while meditating Bariss found that many of her emotions from the supply mission were folded into the neat crease. Further, the more she prodded, the more those emotions guided her down the hall, left at the first junction, through the second door on the right, past the cleanroom airlock, to a laboratory originally designed for virus detection and biomedical engineering. It had taken days to get just that far.

Every physical direction she acquired from the wrinkle first required succumbing to a new emotional barrier, each possessing its own visceral reaction from her mind and body. Bariss knew what it was. The Force was giving her impressions of the past. They began with panic, which only worsened the more she suppressed the feeling, and then shifted into a blood chilling terror and a tingling sensation from her fingers and toes, which then morphed into her limbs numbing, and then total loss of autonomy.

This was also how it happened on the shuttle. The parasite slipped from the infected clone's hand to her face as her panic increased. Its epidermis was not slimy, as she expected, but hot and rubbery and entirely foreign. The clones clicked around her as it slipped up her cheek. Her heartbeat spiked and that bone-chilling terror forced a scream from her lips and the worm paused sadistically, as if drinking in her fear, before it sprang up her nostril with a squeal.

It burned.

Her eyes watered and she cried out from the pain, and then her skull erupted in a splitting headache like the worm was drilling through the bone (which it very well may have been doing) and that agony far outweighed the previous, until her eyes rolled back in her head, and her limbs went limp. She couldn't breathe to scream, she lost all self-control, and though her brain was awake, her body was under the parasite's command.

Bariss supposed, from the safety of her medical suite, that experiencing it all again was a test like one might take in the Jedi Knight trials.

As far as she was concerned, she passed with flying colors.

Though the invasion was torturous, sitting meekly and purposelessly in bed was just as wretched, so Bariss dedicated herself to meditating on the wrinkle over and over and over again. Eventually, she discovered a unique Force ability. She could manipulate the impressions.

Bariss knew she was not the first Jedi to achieve this. In fact, she was not the first being to achieve it, if one was to consider lucid dreaming in the same category. But this type of manipulation manifested itself within the Force, so Bariss did not need to be asleep to capture and replay and rewind the story and time. She clutched her saber in her remaining fist and used an impression of the day's events to dive into the memory, sifting through moments at will.

Certain things became clear.

First: she remembered that her master—rather, her old master— Bariss shook the thought away— had detailed dead Geonosians in her mission report from the queen's catacombs. Master Luminara Unduli had been taken, and Master Kenobi and Skywalker went after her and found that the parasites could resurrect, albeit temporarily, a deceased host. The Geonosians could walk, run, fly, and use fine motor skills under the parasites' commands. Which suggested that the parasites had some capacity to resuscitate dead muscular and nervous tissue.

Bariss had plenty of dead muscular and nervous tissue to test that theory.

Second: while Bariss was still on this medical station, she wouldn't be for long.

She still needed full-time assistance, of course. Her intestinal damage was irreparable. Instead of standard food, (let alone front-line rations), she ate an exclusive soft food diet, with most of her nutrition fed to her through tubes. Breathing was difficult without a machine, she was paralyzed from the waist down, and her concussion and punctured lung set off a chain of events, a ramification of brain damage and her coma. She'd worked through most of it in physical therapy, but the fine motor skills in her right-side fingers and arm had vanished overnight, as had feeling on her left side. Even the muscles in her face went slack, though somehow phantom pains from her stump remained. Bariss was glad her maste— Master Unduli— had left for Dantooine before seeing this deterioration. Her lip drooped and the skin below her eye sagged. Her speech was affected. Garbled. She didn't talk much because of it. Composure was the essence of a Jedi.

But the med station staff had worked long and hard to steady her for transport, in spite of her incurables. Bacta and surgeries had done their work on her other internal injuries. She no longer had broken ribs or vertebrae, her singed stomach was patched, and her lung had been mended. The medical droids had taken the translucent tube out of her chest a couple days ago. It was excruciating having it in, and excruciating taking it out, yet Bariss was glad it was gone.

She was in steady condition now, and though the clone officers whispered about her being a miracle, all Bariss saw was the depletion of valuable Outer Rim medical supplies and the occupation of a bed another patient needed. She was no longer welcome here at the station.

Not that she would be welcome home on Coruscant either.

The Masters weren't dull.

To the High Council and the High Command, who were still debating the role of Jedi leadership in the Grand Army of the Republic, her condition was a burden and an abnormality. Jedi did not get permanently debilitated; they recovered, or they died.

To the Republic people, who consumed an incredible amount of Holonet propaganda about the "Jedi unite for peace" and the "boys in white", her injuries directly contradicted both ideals. Without the classified details including the parasites in the mission, it would look like Bariss was suffering consequences of betrayal from her own troops and fellow Commander. Or consequences of betraying them herself.

The Council would hide the mission from the public, and she suspected that Ahsoka might have stood a sham trial for her actions, to save face before the Senate. Though, the Jedi Masters' lack of control on Geonosis, their failure to isolate a parasitic weapon in enemy hands, and their failure to conduct research on said weapon deserved far more of the blame for Bariss' injuries than Ahsoka did. The Masters' neglect created a ripple effect to their supply mission. And, potentially, could have affected the outcome of the war, if more hosts had been claimed by the worms. Imagine, a whole platoon, a whole army of Jedi and clones fighting their own forces…

The Republic would fall.

If the Council wasn't dull, neither was Bariss. She knew it was better for the Jedi if she simply… disappeared. Despite her old master's conviction that the Jedi were peacekeepers, Bariss was an unwanted casualty of war. She bore the fallout of their dodged blaster-bolt on her body. So, she would be secluded to some facility under pretenses of care and tied hands.

And third: the worms were not isolated, studied, and controlled before the supply run because of Master Skywalker's recklessness. Master Kenobi wrote up a full report, claiming a desire to study the parasites, but Skywalker squashed it. Bariss remained in this living hell because of his impulsive actions, and because his Togrutan padawan deemed it so, against Bariss' own wish for the girl to take her life.

Bariss sequestered the anger inside her, letting it sink into the abyss of her Force signature. She forced herself to be calm and collected.

She would not heal. She'd been told as much by her ma— by Master Luminara Unduli— and by the doctors that hovered over her night and day. The phrase echoed through her mind hour after hour. There's nothing more we can do. But after a while, Bariss did not let it concern her.

After all, they were testing the Geonosian parasites down the hall.

By now, she imagined the GAR was learning of the worm's capabilities, just as she had, but they would not likely use them to their advantage. In fact, if the Council learned of her plans, they would surely disapprove. Until… she'd completed her own research. At that time, if her hypothesis was correct, her value— Bariss shook her head. No, the value of her research— to the Republic and the Jedi would skyrocket, and she would be welcomed back to the Order with open arms.

Something black from her core hissed revenge. But Bariss tempered it again. She breathed a sigh.

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.

This was not revenge. This was knowledge and restoration. This was a path to the greatest healing implement the galaxy had ever known, and she may be the only Jedi with the resolve to explore it.

But she didn't have much time left. She would be deported from the medical station… today. At 2100 hours, she would ship off for Coruscant under the Council's orders. So now was her last chance to get her hands on those parasites.

Bariss opened her eyes and blinked at the wall of her medical suite. There was nothing there to look at but the chronometer, and it registered 18:57. In exactly three minutes, a droid doctor and clone assistant would come to check on her, bringing dinner and taking her vitals. And Bariss would be ready for them.

She watched the chrono count down the seconds, then adjusted herself on the bed. Drool slipped down the sagging side of her mouth, but Bariss quickly wiped it away with her hand. As usual, her whole abdomen ached like one big bruise, and she didn't feel anything from her legs, but her severed arm still smarted like it remained. Sometimes she really could feel her fingers… except they didn't exist anymore.

Bariss listened for the drip of her IV fluids. Painkiller filtered into the steady flow. They used to have her on a heavier medication, but it diluted her senses until she couldn't track time or events. She'd felt like she really was losing her mind, and so she asked for something lighter. It meant surviving with raw and itching hurt, but that was a small price to pay. Jedi were not meant to live comfortably. She peered at the IV from the corner of her eyes, making herself as quiet as possible under the mechanical breathing of her oxygen mask.

Drip. Drip.

The medication was still active. It would be for another two hours, until they came for her again, to take her to Coruscant. She glanced at the chrono. 18:59. The seconds counted 57… 58... 59… 19:00.

She waited another beat. Footsteps crossed behind her door. The durasteel swooshed to the side.

"Hello Commander." A clone voice said, punctual as usual. Bariss couldn't see him yet, reluctant to turn and stress her pain, but by the affability in his voice, she knew he was Cordie. "I've brought your supper. And your doctor."

She heard the clatter of a food tray on the side table next to her bed, and then he came around to the front, making himself visible to her.

He wore the same face as all the clones, brown skin and brown eyes with dark hair. Like many, Cordie kept his hair cropped short, in the standard military crew cut. His face sported no markings of battle, as some of his brothers' did, but instead maintained smooth tan skin, a little pale from his lack of sunlight. As far as Bariss knew, Cordie had spent the majority of his career on this medical station. He did not smile at her, but he tipped his head in a respectful nod and his eyes were warm. He'd always been kind to her, with a lack of pity. Bariss appreciated that.

Behind him, a 2-1B medical droid lurched to a halt by her monitors, scanning the readings and vital signs. It approached her and gave her arm a quick prick with a syringe, drawing a small portion of blood. Bariss didn't flinch. This was standard procedure.

The droid carried the blood sample to a monitor recessed into the wall and deposited it inside the machine for testing. A moment passed and a beep vocalized confirmation of a scan complete. The 2-1B downloaded the data and turned to face the bed.

"Vitals are steady." The medical droid said, fixing its visual processors on Bariss. "Another dose of pain medication will be administered in—" The droid's voice clicked in monotone. Bariss repressed a sigh. "Two hours."

Bariss ignored the 2-1B as Cordie slipped back to her bedside. "I have three options for you, Commander. Which would you prefer?"

He held up each plastic container in succession. There was a red, grey, and blue option of mush, but Bariss wasn't focused on her dinner choices. She wished the clones would stop using that word. Commander. She wasn't a commander anymore. According to Master Lu— to her old master— she wasn't even a Jedi.

With a shaky motion, Bariss extended her hand toward one of the food containers Cordie held out to her. The grey one. He shrugged.

"I would have picked the blue one myself." He set the food tray with the other containers on her lap, and pried open the grey sludge's lid, plucking a spoon from its plastic wrapping.

Now was the time.

Feigning like she couldn't control her arm, Bariss slammed her extended hand down on the corner of the food tray, catapulting its contents into the air, across the room to splat onto the tile floor. The tray clattered with a loud clank and Cordie's eyes went wide.

Bariss took in a small breath, which, to Cordie, might have translated like she hadn't meant to fling her dinner everywhere. The tray rattled against the tile before settling, and for a moment, all Bariss could hear was the automated hiss of her oxygen mask.

Step one was complete.

"Guess there's no opportunity to change your mind tonight, Commander." Cordie sighed, staring at the mess. He dropped the plastic spoon into the grey semi-solid and pushed it into her hand. "The lids all popped off. I'll have to get a cleaning droid."

At her bedside, the med droid beeped. "Motor control in right hand has regressed." It said, and it tapped the datapad it carried. The screen flickered with added input into Bariss' file.

Cordie gave the medical droid a frown but stayed quiet, stepping toward the call button on the nearby wall. Bariss followed him with her eyes, her heartbeat spiking. Time for step two. Her elbow trembled over her blanket, and she clutched the food container tight.

"Cohrdie…" She gargled, hating the way her numb lip curled, but her voice got his attention. She rarely spoke now. "I wand ta go foh a walhk." She held out her grey mush to him shakily, wrinkling her nose in an effort to convey what she couldn't verbalize.

"Not hungry?" He asked, lifting a brow.

She dipped her chin an inch and blinked a slow affirmative. Going for a 'walk' was more going for a 'ride', but it'd become a sort of ritual between the clone and her, as an escape from the same blank walls of this room. They'd traversed the halls of the med station just about every route possible. He pushed her hoverchair past the checkup rooms, the OR, the officer quarters, the cantina… and the labs. Sometimes they'd get clearance to tour inside rooms, but they'd never gone inside the Geonosian parasite lab.

Bariss knew Cordie felt connected to her whenever she requested these 'walks'. She'd asked for them more this week because of it. It had been necessary to create a personal bond, to stimulate trust between them, but as Bariss watched the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile and his tightly bound shoulders relax, she questioned if her strategy was cruel.

"As you wish, Commander. Better we're gone when the cleaning droids come by anyway." Cordie still paced to the communication panel, but he hit two buttons instead of one. The first to call a hoverchair to her room, the second to call the cleaning crew.

A beep echoed from the 2-1B's servers. "I will leave her in your capable hands, officer. I must now make my rounds."

The droid rotated and clomped away. The door to her suite accommodated it with two mechanical swooshes, one to open and one to close. Then a third swoosh, and a new droid delivered a hoverchair and whirled away.

"Alright then." Cordie turned to Bariss. "How about that walk?"

He took the grey glop from her hand and set it on the side table. The spoon slipped from the cup and clattered against the tabletop, dripping more food on the surface. They both ignored it. Cordie turned his back to grab the hoverchair, and Bariss flicked her eyes to the chronometer.

19:07.

There was a splatter of red mush on the wall below the chrono. It slumped down the wall like blood, and then all of a sudden, Bariss saw crimson on the frigate transport. Slick against her hair, bleeding into her headdress' fabric. She felt woozy. The air smelled sick with iron. The transport's temperature plummeted, and the floor shifted beneath her feet. Goosebumps crawled over her skin; prickles coated both her hands. And then a searing heat severed her arm in two.

Bariss suppressed a shriek. She blinked rapidly.

The burning disappeared with her arm. The transport was replaced by her medical suite. It was not cold; her hair was not damp with blood. Bariss lugged her other hand to her stump, feeling the sharp stitching under her fingertips. She swallowed hard. She would do everything she could to fix this.

"You ready?" Cordie asked. He stepped up to her bedside and lowered the bed's railing. "May I?"

She nodded.

Gently, he turned her on her side and inched her up to sitting. This part was the most difficult for Bariss. Movement aggravated her abdomen, and the ache sharpened, so she took short breaths until she was upright. Cordie wrapped a assistant belt around her waist and then stepped up close, lacing his hands under her arms and around her back as if in an embrace. She could feel his breath past her ear. Bariss let her palm drape over his shoulder and leaned into his weight. He lifted her from the bed until she was standing on feet she couldn't feel, then rotated her to float over the hoverchair. Slowly, he lowered her to the seat, until she was sitting upright in the chair, and then stepped back. Bariss exhaled a breath.

Her abdomen throbbed, but she ignored it. There were bigger things at stake.

Cordie removed the belt from her waist and then took the handles of the hoverchair. He steered her toward the door, which swooshed to the side to accommodate them.

"Where should we explore today?" Cordie asked. Bariss couldn't see him, but she heard the corner of his mouth turn up into a half-smile. She pursed her lips.

"Pasht da labs." She tried. She felt her cheeks flush and narrowed her eyes. "Past. The. Labs."

Her mouth felt gummy, and her tongue twisted up, but the words appeared articulated, and so Bariss allowed herself a rare blossom of pride. Through the Force, she sensed Cordie felt the same, but he didn't ridicule her with flattery; only turned the hoverchair toward the labs.

"As you wish, Commander."

Commander. She clenched her jaw. As they drove down the hall, and left at the junction, Bariss' mind wandered over her old command, her master, and her Jedi kin. She'd formed something of a bond with Gree, Master Luminara's clone commander, as a work companion, if nothing else. She wondered if he thought about her absence in battle. And the Jedi she'd grown up with… other than Ahsoka, she wouldn't say she had friends… but she'd had a lineage and some semblance of a community. And her master… the closest thing she had to a mother—

Anger swelled up from her soul and Bariss swallowed hard to abate it. She'd lost everything in one day, and it was all their fault. And she hated that she longed for them still.

Then again, as Cordie approached the door to the parasite lab, she supposed the churning in her gut made it easier to do what she needed to next.

"Wait." Bariss lifted a hand. Cordie pulled the chair to a halt.

"Commander?"

Commander. Frustration bubbled behind her ribs. In a rush, Bariss reached out her hand to his mind, throwing herself into the Force. His presence was there, in front of her, and she snatched at it, and cleared her throat.

"We should. Tour. This lab." She imbued her words with the Force, annunciating slowly.

Cordie tensed up behind her. She leaned against his mind, tamping the suggestion into the folds of his subconscious, craning her neck to watch him from her peripheral. There was another pause, and Bariss' heart beat loud. And then Cordie's warm eyes glassed over.

She saw his shoulders slump and his chin nod. "We should tour this lab."

He never would have done it if she asked, Bariss reminded herself as Cordie swiped his officer card against the keypad. He was a rule-follower, just like she used to be. And befriending him for this purpose wasn't a betrayal. It was for the good of the Republic which he served. The needle of guilt in her subconscious remained, but the laboratory door slid aside, and Bariss decidedly focused on the Force as Cordie pushed her through the frame.

They were in the airlock now, separated from the lab itself by one door. The Force suggestion she'd given Cordie should have permeated this barrier too, but instead of marching in, the clone's palm hovered over the door controls. Bariss pressed against his presence again.

"You will. Take me into. The lab." She murmured.

"I will take you into the lab."

He rapped the button, the door opened with a hiss, and Bariss saw what she'd previously sensed. Ten yellow, rubbery, six-inch corpses of Geonosian parasites.

They were in various stages, two still in eggs, two partially hatched, and six severed or frostbitten, stretched across silver trays with pins or frozen in a conservator with a glass door. But they were all there, and all dead, and all compiled into the same wrinkle in the Force she'd sensed from her medical suite. Best of all, the room was devoid of scientists.

Bariss had chosen dinnertime for a reason. She'd studied the scientists' schedules, listened carefully to foot traffic outside her door, and prompted Cordie to talk about his clone colleagues out of pseudo curiosity. She'd learned from his sly quips that the scientists worked from early mornings to afternoons. From around 1700 hours to 0300 hours, they were away from the lab; eating, sleeping, writing reports, and attending meetings with their superiors.

But Bariss didn't have ten hours. She had until 2100, an hour and a half away. Even that timeline had shrunken to whenever Cordie's mind tired of taking Force suggestions, which, judging by his fidgeting fingers, was mere minutes rather than hours.

Bariss breathed in the Force, letting herself sink into the meditative state she often utilized in battle. She could feel everything in her vicinity, the pain from nearby patients, the busyness of clone officers, the chill of the worms. And the wrinkle in the Force.

She cradled it around her fingers, and then dove in.

Immediately, her whole body stiffened, racked with bruises and broken bones and freezing cold. Panic snaked along her spine. Her heartbeat spiked. The hair on her arms stood on end. Bariss breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, focusing on the Force and the hoverchair at her back. She let herself feel the panic but understood it wasn't from her present.

Terror replaced the panic. She remembered the way the worm slid up her face and plunged into her nose. The way it burned and then split her head.

Bariss breathed and focused on her physical surroundings. She recognized a snag in her hospital gown, a tie pressing into her shoulder blade. She heard the low hum of the repulsors on the hoverchair, and the steady drip of her IV bag dangling from the chair's handle. Her terror faded away.

A tingle began in her fingers and Bariss fought to ease her pounding heartbeat. This time there was no needling sensation in her toes, just like reality. She took that as a good sign. Pressing each fingertip to her thumb in succession, the prickles petered out.

Everything went numb. Oddly, Bariss felt nothing but calm settle over her, like she was free from the confines of her broken body, instead of trapped within a mind prison. She let the Force roll over her, a blanket of black outer space. She still felt the chill of the past, but it no longer raised the hairs on her arm and shoulders. When she breathed, a haze of steam rose from her lips and floated away from her, until it drifted over a specific Geonosian parasite, pinned to a silver tray on a table in the lab. Bariss heard the worm screech as if from a distant echo and the whole universe seemed to center on it.

Then she blinked, and everything came back into focus.

Her IV dripped, her chair hummed, her gown bunched, Cordie breathed at her back, and the worm remained pinned to the silver tray on the far table of the lab. Bariss couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"This. Is what. We were. Exploring. For." Bariss said, her voice tinged with the Force. She felt Cordie's mind ingest the suggestion easily. With a twitch of her finger, she designated the specific worm in his thoughts. "We will. Take the. Parasite. With us."

"We will take the parasite with us." Cordie repeated in monotone. Bariss sensed that the 'we' helped him accept the suggestion, drawing from that bond she'd cultivated through all their walks around the station. He shuffled around Bariss' chair and plucked the worm from its table, tray and pins and all, and placed it in her lap, as if it were just another food tray.

"It'sss time. To geht. Me. Back to my. Room." Bariss swiped a pair of fingers through the air before Cordie's glazed brown irises.

He nodded slowly and Bariss exhaled the small breath she was holding.

"It's time to get you back to your room, Commander." He said.

Bariss knew she was slowly losing him, but this Force suggestion was something he always recited to conclude their 'walks'. He conformed to it effortlessly. It only took a moment to swivel her hoverchair and push through the airlock door, then the laboratory door into the hallway. There were no personnel crowding the passage, much to Bariss' relief. She kept quiet anyway.

Soon enough, her medical suite came into view. Cordie pushed her up to the door, which swished open, and nudged her forward.

She'd timed everything perfectly.

In the far corner of the room, a cleaning droid puttered about, still tidying up her dinner spill. As Cordie transported her towards the bed, Bariss immediately set into the parasite's metal pins with her one good hand. She tossed them on the tray and plucked the worm from its place.

Part of her recoiled at having to touch the parasite again. She stamped that thought down as her fingers pinched springy skin betwixt them. Before Cordie's awareness could return, Bariss shoved the worm out of view under the sheets at the foot of her bed. Then she called to the droid.

"Gahrbage!" She gargled. Her words were beginning to slur again, since the effort it took to maintain perfect speech drained Bariss' energy, but it didn't matter. The droid understood and shuffled over. Bariss slid the tray and pins into its waiting metal gripper and saw how it would look like a dinner tray to an inattentive passerby. Completely forgettable.

Behind her, Cordie's blurred consciousness seemed to be redefining, because he made an odd snuffling sound and softly cleared his throat. Bariss twisted to glance at him. He was squeezing his eyes shut, and then blinked a few times. When he lifted his gaze fully, it settled on Bariss with a puzzled twinge.

"Thaynk you, Cohrdie. Fohr your kindnessh and assistansse." Bariss drolled, bowing her head to him. She meant the words, not just for the reasons Cordie didn't understand. She swallowed hard as the needles of guilt pierced her again, but Cordie warmed at her words.

"Of course, Commander." He said, all trace of his confusion gone. Approaching her, he raised her from the hoverchair and helped her back into her hospital bed. Bariss was careful not to squash the small lump under her covers as she adjusted her weight.

"I'll be back in a little over an hour." Cordie said to her. "Seems you've got a ride to catch back to Coruscant." He shot her a teasing wink.

Bariss gave him a short nod in response. He followed the cleaning droid out the door.

She was alone.

Bariss reached down, ignoring the strain on her abdomen, and pulled the dead parasite from its hiding place to hold before her eyes.

Already, she could tell the specimen wasn't near as pliable as its living form had been. Death and the cold had stiffened it. But the scientists had already cut tiny, thread-like samples from the worm's skin, thin notches like stripes. That told Bariss all she needed to know. She could work with this.

She laid the worm to the side and reached for her lightsaber hilt on the bedside table. Clutching the metal cylinder in her fist, she swiped at the pommel cap with her thumb until it dropped into her lap.

In preparation for this goal, she'd spent plenty of time dismembering the weapon. She'd rebuilt the interior as a capsule, hollow except for an isolated pocket to hold her kyber crystal. The blade wouldn't ignite at the push of a button anymore, but it would be the perfect casing for smuggling an illegal Geonosian parasite off of the medical station.

Best she could, Bariss wrapped the worm in a strip of bandage she'd been coveting and tucked it inside the lightsaber hilt.

It was a perfect fit.

No one would touch the lightsaber until Coruscant, when the Jedi might want to take her kyber crystal back. That gave her plenty of time to plan anew.

In her hand, she swiveled the saber between a reverse and forward grip, and for the first time since she'd been on the station, Bariss smiled.

...

Oooooh, it's all coming together! I know I'm the writer and I have it all planned already, but I'm super excited to see how it all pans out. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Just a reminder that I usually post every two or three-ish weeks on Thursday evenings, so check Fridays for new updates.

Thanks again for reading, and as always, please review if you feel so inclined.