Countdown (1/3)

The radio crackled on. Robin clutched the microphone as steady as she could, the poor thing not used to the rough location of Steve's beat up Beemer.

"Evening, Hawkins," she announced into the mic. Not in her typical bravado. This was all Robin: trembling, scared, but defiant against it. "This is Rockin' Robin, here with Sailin' Steve in what very well may be our last broadcast."

She adjusts her spear, getting Steve to double check his shield. Not easy to do while speeding down the road, but when their destination is the same no matter where he goes, it doesn't quite matter anymore, does it?

"It's been a pleasure serving you lovely people and WSQK Radio," Robin continues, her voice shaking less as the certainty of her words takes over. "But it's time for us to sign off one last time."

"The end of the world is calling, baby," Steve says, loud enough for the radio to pick up. It's the first time he's ever dared to speak into it, and the wave of power it gives him makes him feel possessed. With the way his hand moves off the wheel to twist the knob of the barely functioning sound board between them, turning the music up as he accelerates and fueling his words, he may as well be. "We're here to pick up the call."

Steve grips the stick in front of the sound board, clutching the leather as familiar as the denim beneath his war clothes. "We've got one final song for you all, dedicated to an old friend of mine."

He smells ash. Tastes blood on the tip of his tongue. Feels the sting in his sides like a call from the other side.

Not painful. Hopeful.

Daring.

Trusting.

Fueling.

"We're gonna finish what you started, bud. I'm gonna make him pay."

As the first notes of the guitar solo to "Crazy Train" begin rattling his car, as his fingers tighten impossibly more on the wheel and a tear rolls down his cheek, he feels the ghost of a hand on his shoulder.

Ring laden.

Strong in its fear. Familiar in its loss.

Steve grits his teeth. Takes a deep breath as a calmness burns just as bright as the fire of vengeance.

"Eddie Munson, this is for you."

Then he shifts the stick, grips the wheel, and speeds straight into the apocalypse.

stop normalizing ai use in fandom 👎

March 8th, 2026

The US government on school shootings, online harassment, and police brutality: There's nothing we can do. Offering Thoughts and Prayers.

The US government when one CEO gets shot and a lady quotes a meme at an insurance rep: Ohhh jail!!! Jail for terrorists 1000 years!!!

I think the blond interpretation from the Clone Wars series was because those were predominantly New Mandalorians, of, uh, Kalevala? Or Sundari. The Mandalorian sector has several planets with several moons, we were only getting a peek at one specific population. Or, conversely- we can consider that the ethnic homogeneity of the New Mandalorians was a feature of result of their politics. Perhaps Concordian folks are both darker skinned AND more likely to prefer their armor and older ways. Perhaps the Core-influenced politics DO skew humanist, and that's reflected in the New Mandalorian's population. They're a specific political faction in a specific locale. (Or they were saving their animation budget for Jedi backflips.)

I love when the clones are somewhat mandalorians by culture but seriously if I have to read one more time “the mandalorians were all blond and pale, thin and slander, not like us, the vod’e were too broad with dark skin” mandalorians adopt absolutely anything and everything why do you make the clones feel like they can’t ever be accepted as mandalorians cause of their ethnicity??? This galaxy is the epitome of diversity, racism against clones exist, specism exist, but at least wait for the empire to write about racism between humans pls