Watercolour-style tattoo of an X-wing starship in front of a planet with purple and blue splashes, on a calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

X-wing starship and planet on a calf

Other · Colour · Photo

A tattoo on the calf shows an X-wing style starship in front of a large orb with orange, teal and green tones. Purple and blue wash flames and splatters surround the design, and small dark dots and strokes add texture. The painterly, loose shading and bright colour fill the lower leg and dominate the composition.

Other Planet Nebula Splatter Space

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The kettle had been shrieking for a minute before I noticed, which is how I knew the Ferrous Marrow had got into my head again. Dessa Quill stood in the galley of the Second Tithe with her boots on the wrong feet and a half-drunk tin of ration tea going cold in her hand. Outside the viewport the orange world of Kestrel Deep hung like a bruise held up to the light, teal storm bands wrapped round its belly, and her wingmates were already burning out toward the blockade without her.

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She had been a hull-welder once, before the Republic needed pilots more than it needed people who could keep a seam from splitting. Her old crew chief, a gravelly woman called Ottilie Brand, used to say you could tell a starfighter's temper by how it sang in a turn. Dessa's X-wing had sung all through the Pellen run, a thin high note like a wet finger on glass, and it was singing now as she bolted up the ladder with the tea spilling down her sleeve.

She was three seconds late off the rail. The purple nebula smeared across the cockpit glass as she punched through the fringe, and the stars became long green threads that snapped away behind her. For a moment there was nothing but the orb ahead, enormous and burning, and the familiar shiver in her palms.

When the blockade lights resolved, her wingmates were already gone, and only the ink-dark splatter of debris drifted where they had been. Dessa keyed the comm and said, to nobody, "Still here." The static answered with a sound she chose to believe was laughter.