#'why would she uses a lightsaber' bc it's cool next question

[cloudyysworld]

As an Asian girl you don't know how happy I am when I see Sabine- an Asian Mandalorian and Jedi, anyone hating her and calling her Mary sue for being force sensitive and welding a lightsaber is lame 😒

[likeholymary]

— one with the force

the phantom menace ii: 4.6k words

AU: What if the Clone Wars never happened, but instead Darth Sidious cast aside the Rule of Two, forging a new way for the Sith and began amassing an army of Sith warriors to overthrow the Jedi and the Republic?

A/N: (not my gif) (excerpt below is from The Clone Wars: Wild Space by Karen Miller, slightly altered to fit the story). hello beautiful friends! the beautiful gif credit goes to @pixelahsoka. this chapter has a LOT of content so just keep that in mind! also, kind of cheesy ending but whatever, hehe. also, yes, to confirm, obi-wan and rhea are a force dyad. however, it will (hopefully) be better than the sequels, bc i felt like it just came out of nowhere. their romance will be a slow-burn to them actually accepting it, with them still being at least semi-romantical along the way, so look forward to that! this chapter is filled with a lot of fluff, and a very angsty ending. this is the last chapter set during the phantom menace, so the next chapter will be set during attack of the clones, where most of the AU aspect will begin to pick up! comment below or send me an ask if you would like to join the taglist and be notified about the upcoming chapters! again, i am so grateful that you are even reading this, and if you feel compelled to do so, please reblog this post so your mutuals can read it as well! i love you all:) masterlist

mentions: death, blood, fighting, MAJOR angst, force connection, sadness.

The Master and Apprentice began their departure from the Jedi Temple on their Naboo, and Obi-Wan did not think it wise. 

Not after the Dathomirian man had appeared on that Maker-forsaken dustball with a red lightsaber, which only meant one thing – the Sith had returned.

He breathed in the pale glow of the planet’s moon, not taking time to look up and watch the stars glitter above, instead making short strides behind Qui-Gon, the shadow of the Naboo ship creeping its way across to cover them in more darkness, further darkening Obi-Wan’s mood and attitude towards the continuation of this ill-fated mission. 

Having just left the council’s chambers, he felt immense frustration, not only at the council, but at his Master as well. Not only was he ready to face the Jedi Trials which the council seemed to be denying him the right to, now his Master was all too eager to take on the latest lifeform they had picked up on their Naboo adventures, a boy believed to be the Chosen One by his Master.  

Not only was the boy too old, but Obi-Wan could sense it just as the council had – a great fear was buried deep within this Anakin Skywalker. A fear that was all consuming, and was growing slowly within him since they had left Tatooine and the boy’s mother behind.

Why could his master not sense it as he and the council did? Did he just assume ignorance for the possibilities to witness the forthcoming of a prophecy? He never understood his Master’s obsession with the old Jedi prophecies. It was an area of interest he sorely lacked, something that he felt put a strain on his relationship with Qui-Gon, something he realized that Qui-Gon probably wished Obi-Wan was intrigued by, but both of them knew that their Master-Apprentice relationship would never be like that of Dooku and Qui-Gon. 

Rhea, however, had been Dooku’s apprentice and shared a similar, if not less, affinity for the supernatural and old ways of the Jedi. Perhaps he could pay her a visit once his mission was completed, or even send her a message over their datapads like they used to before they got increasingly more busy as padawans. 

Surprise began to grow in him when he saw Rhea standing on the platform beside the ship. She had been waiting on him. As Qui-Gon began to speak to Anakin privately, Obi-Wan ran over to her with a small grin on his face. He should have known she would be here, for every time he simply thought of her, it seemed she was always nearby, as if she were watching over him.

“What are you doing here?” He beamed.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but notice the blush dusting her cheeks, even in the shadow of the ship. 

“I couldn’t just let you leave without saying goodbye, now could I?”

“You said goodbye to me before the council meeting.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, groaning in annoyance before she began to simper quietly, punching him in the shoulder. “Well, yes, but I couldn’t give you this in front of the council, now could I?”  She held out her arms, opening them in anticipation for one of their rare hugs. When they were younglings, it was of course more sociably acceptable for them to embrace, however as the years began to pass and after many scoldings from each of their masters, they hid it away for special occasions or the few moments they would ever share alone, which were few and far between.

Obi-Wan buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the sort of meadowy scent she always seemed to carry, as if she were the greatest meadow within the galaxy, filled with thousands of flowers constantly doused by the warm air and golden sunshine, only to be damped by a cool spring rain. She was a wonder, in his eyes.

Rhea’s arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted his head so he could carefully place his chin on top of her head, ever so sweetly. She equally breathed him in, sighing as she inhaled the overwhelming musk of rain, leather and perhaps even some old oak and a few of his dusty books. He always did become overly invested in his new findings, nose deep in his studies, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two stood there for but a moment, taking every part of each other in as if it were the last time they would see each other, and to Rhea, she felt like it was.

“Promise.. promise you’ll come back?” Obi-Wan pulled away, simpering down at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

“When have I ever not?”

Rhea scowled for a second, her face quickly softening once more. “Just promise me, you idiot.”

“Fine, I promise you, dearest.”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname, breathing out a short laugh, before launching herself further into his arms, her fingers lacing through his shortly buzzed hair. Now for this, well, she wasn’t sure what Master Windu would have to say if he saw her like this, but she knew that it would be a deep scolding. It seemed so stupidly forbidden for her to just be lacing her fingers through his hair, but she paid no mind to the Jedi Code in the moment. 

Rhea was his dearest, and he her Ben, and yet, the pain of the loss of her Master still fresh on her mind, reminded her why she could not become attached to this overly-complex relationship the two padawans shared. 

It’s time to let go. 

And yet, she couldn’t. And neither could he.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat on the Queen’s ship while they flew through hyperspace back to Naboo. It seemed such a foolish idea to be returning to the invaded planet, but he did as he was told just as he always did, and followed the willful lead of his master. They were but a small force, two Jedi, a Queen and a handful of her people. What could they really do? If the Sith really had returned, could they really defeat them as well as an entire army?

The Queen had suggested they call upon the aid of the Gungans, but Obi-Wan questioned if that would work as well. The Gungans seemed to have a deeply seeded hatred for the people of Naboo, as it was obvious that in the past the former had treated the other like insolent fools. He wasn’t sure that he could disagree after spending so much time around Jar Jar Binks.

A light bit of laughter echoed in his mind, and it sounded like Rhea. He must have just imagined talking to her, Rhea giggling at his comments and avidly agreeing while coming up with her own quippy comment.

Obi-Wan could not help but miss the girl.

Alone in his small room aboard the ship, he tried closing his eyes so as to meditate, folding his hands together as he crossed his legs, breathe in, breathe out.

But she was still there.

Get out of my head.

He thought almost mockingly, knowing that she surely couldn’t be listening to his thoughts from such far a distance.

Why don’t you get out of mine, Ben?

Obi-Wan was shaken. There was absolutely no way-

I’m still here. Could you help me get out? You’re thinking about me too much, and I’m a little offended that you’re annoyed of my presence.

Obi-Wan then snapped his eyes open, and there sitting in front of him was none other than his dearest, greatest life companion, Rhea Illyria, with a smile of a thousand stars.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

Rhea Illyria sat on her bed in her quarters inside the Jedi Temple, breathing in, breathing out, as she performed her daily morning meditation. She knew many other padawans and younglings who hated the act of meditation, but she found it rather peaceful, a time to focus on the energy of the Force, to feel it moving around her and all other life forms.

She, however, became momentarily distracted by the thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his departure back to Naboo. She sighed, wishing she could have gone with him. There was something in the Force, something that felt like a warning about the planet of Naboo, and those who invaded. No, not the invaders... The ones controlling the invaders, pulling the strings. Who were they? The Sith? Or was it something... something much greater and evil in all forms and aspects?

Rhea worried for Obi-Wan and his mission, and she couldn’t help the thoughts consuming her not only of the danger of his mission, but of the padawan and their untold and unseen embrace. 

However, there was a nagging feeling in her gut. The Force pulling her towards something... No, someone.

She could just reach out, and suddenly her eyes were meet with the galaxy, planets dancing by as the stars glimmered all around her. She was walking among them, slowly, as if moving through the tides of the deepest oceans.

Breathe in, breathe out. What is the Force pushing you towards?

Rhea could see something ahead, a silver shape slowly getting closer as she continued to wade her way through stars and the black dusts of the galaxy.

Someone was thinking intensely. Someone was annoyed.

She couldn’t help but giggle at the notion of the Gungans being quite unintelligent creatures, or at least Jar Jar Binks, the creature someone was thinking about.

The closer Rhea got to the shape, she noticed it took the form of the ship from Naboo, the ship that carried its queen, the ship that carried him.

Someone was Obi-Wan.

This had to be some dream, she thought. She must have drifted into some sleep while she was meditating. But at the same moment she drifted through space, she breathed in, and could feel the sheets of her bed curl around her fingers, sense the starflower in the corner of her window, could smell the caf she so desperately needed each day after her meditations.

Despite trying to refocus on her true surroundings, Rhea became lost in the stars once more when something pushed back against her.

Get out of my head.

Rhea huffed, and began to more faster, willing the stars around her to move, to allow her closer access to the ship. She continued to wade and move through slowly, yet determined.

Why don’t you get out of mine, Ben?

She could feel his confusion, and despite her own, she couldn’t help but find some joy in this strange place. How she was able to drift through the stars to the other padawan was certainly not a normal occurrence among the Jedi, nor within the Force.

He couldn’t believe she was there either. He was thinking about her, thinking about how he missed her, which tugged at something within her she had never noticed before.

Her fingers finally grace the cool metal of the ship, however, they moved through its surface, and she was able to pass through, allowing the Force to guide her to her dear friend.

At the same time, he became frustrated by her presence distracting him from his own meditation.

I’m still here. Could you help me get out? You’re thinking about me too much, and I’m a little offended that you’re annoyed of my presence.

She was no longer floating within the ship, and instead now found herself grounded, sitting cross legged across Obi-Wan.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

“Ho-how are you even here? I must be dreaming, there is no way that this could possibly be real. I mean, have you ever read about Jedi being able to communicate with each other over vast distances such as this? This is simply impossible!”  Obi-Wan rambled, tugging at his chin, brow furrowed as his mouth gaped slightly at the sight of Rhea.

She however, rolled her eyes, unamused this time by his consistent desire for the knowledge of just about everything. This had to be under the category he loved the least, and she treasured the most – the supernatural ongoings of the Force.

“Ben!” She finally shouted, smacking him on his forehead to get his attention.

This brought Obi-Wan to attention, but also caused both padawans to touch their forehead and hand respectively.

“How did you do that!” “How did I do that?”

Rhea and Obi-Wan were, to say the least, perplexed and befuddled by the situation before them. Obi-Wan, deciding the best course of action was to hypothesize how this anomaly could have occurred in the Force, decided they should each ask one another questions regarding just how this had happened.

“What were you doing when this,” he motioned between them, “happened?” Rhea bit her bottom lip, furrowing her brow just as he had. “I was meditating. It’s morning back at the Temple, so I was doing my morning meditations...” Obi-Wan’s hand remained on his chin, his forefinger rubbing incessantly across his upper lip. 

“As was I. Continue, please,” he spoke so softly, she almost wondered if he was trying to be quiet so no one would hear them and come looking.

“Well, my meditations were interrupted by thoughts of you.” Obi-Wan paused his menstruations, his eyes darting to meet hers.

“You were thinking about me?” 

“Well, yes–” “Why?” She grew flustered, a growing pain pounding in her chest, sharp and yet harsh. Her hands began to sweat as she started to wring them out like some old tunic on washing day, her eyes swooping to avoid his ever piercing-blue gaze.

“I don’t know, why were you thinking about me!” She retorted.

It was one of the few times Obi-Wan got speechless and she could not help but gleam with pride at catching his tongue. She knew this trait would probably die with age, the older her got the further he became closer to the title of a silver tongued master, however she knew she would look back on this moment and know she had trumped him at his own game.

“I–” However, he never got a singular thought out, as Qui-Gon began to shout Obi-Wan’s name like he were some incessant father trying to find his son after a long game of hide-and-go-seek.

Obi-Wan cursed under his breath, a moment of panic coursing through him, but when he looked back from the door to Rhea, she was gone, and he once again was alone, feeling a strange and overwhelming sense of sadness.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

Rhea tried to continue her day as usual, but her gut instinct inside of her told her that there was something more to her apparent Force projection than it just being that. No... she knew there was something more to this event that had just occurred in not only her life, but Obi-Wan’s. Everything felt like it was going to change.

Unfocused in her training with Mace Windu, he scolded her throughout the day, noting her lack of focus and charging her with consistent complaints about her lack of balance. 

How could she feel balanced? How was she supposed to feel balance after she lacked control over her own capabilities through the Force? How could she feel balance when it had alluded her since the day her Master abandoned her for a life without her as his apprentice? 

How could she feel balance without anyone there to guide her? “The Force, guide you, it will.” 

Rhea nearly ran over Master Yoda who now stood in the Temple’s halls in front of her, smiling just as knowingly as he had every day she could remember. 

“Master Yoda, I didn’t see you there.” “Loud your thoughts are. Many things on your mind, are there not?” 

Rhea could not help but feel guilty and caught. Surely though, Master Yoda could be the one to help her. She had so many questions weighing her down, aching to be asked, and yet she felt ashamed to even think them to herself. Now, it seemed that there were those who were listening. 

“Master, I just feel so lost.”

Yoda hummed, chuckling to himself as if he held all the secrets of the world to himself and would just become amused by the ongoings of the beings around him.

“Come with me, you will.” Yoda motioned for her to follow him, as he guided her toward the meditation room. He sat down on a small chair meant for younglings, and she sat adjacent from him, not really knowing if a meditation session was going to help. After all, it’s what got her into this conundrum.

“Close you eyes. Focus not on your surroundings, but the Force.”

Rhea breathed in, breathed out, closing her eyes as she began to let go of her surroundings, allowing them to fade away. 

“See what is in the Force that troubles you, and tell me what it is.” 

She wasn’t sure if she should reach out again. What if she connected with another Jedi like she had with Obi-Wan? But surely, that would not happen. She had been thinking of him, just as she was now.

Images then began to flow through her mind. A beautiful green planet under siege by the droid armies of the Separatists, a cloaked man with a red lightsaber watching over her as she slept, Dooku the day he left her without even looking behind, her connection with Obi-Wan earlier that morning, him falling...

“I see the droid armies invading Naboo.. A Sith watching over me. Dooku leaving the Jedi Order.... and..”

“More there is?”

“Yes..” Rhea whispered, but she couldn’t focus on the grainy voice of Yoda. She kept reaching out, as if pulling the Force towards her like a rope, trying to yank it so it would release all of its secrets it was holding from her.

And into the Force she fell.

Everything around her was blurry, she couldn’t focus on anything except the strength of the Dark Side coursing before her. It was Obi-Wan. And he had given into all of his anger and hatred, an overwhelming tsunami of darkness coating every inch of him and not it began to creep upon her, splashing her with the emotions flowing out of him.

No, he cannot give into this. She thought, watching as he fell into the pool of darkness waiting to swallow him whole.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

His master was dead. 

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon crumpled to the floor, and he screamed in agony as he was trapped behind the laser shield, hopelessly witnessing the death of his Master.  And he could not help the growing rage and hatred that began to engulf his entire being, becoming greater with each second as he practically jumped, ready for the laser shield to move so he could slaughter this hunter before him, this Sith, this darkness.

His face twitched, his mouth curling downward into a snarl, complete loathe shining in his eyes which now darkened as he turned his gaze upon the Dathomirian. 

The Sith trailed before him like some wild beast waiting for its prey, stalking like some dark creature.

A moment before the laser shields even began to move once again, Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber, seconds before a red bladed lightsaber was ignited as well. The shields moved, and Obi-Wan raised his saber, going to strike the beast of red and darkness down, going to strike for the kill out of the rage and hatred in his heart.

The darkness was consuming him, but Obi-Wan did not care. How could he care now? His master was dead, and this creature seemed a powerful foe within the Force, something that should be put down for the sake of the Republic and the safety of its citizens.... something that should pay for its crimes against the Jedi, it’s crimes against him.

He blocked every twist and twirl it made with its lightsaber, blocking its attacks by pushing back against it with more fervent and less coordinated attacks. If he could only strike it down... 

Obi-Wan lifted his lightsaber, slashing through the center of its double-bladed saber, cutting the pieces in half as one went out. He flipped over the creature, slashing at his center and sorrowfully missing him by an inch. 

This creature was quick, but he had to be quicker, he had to be. What would his Master say if he failed him? What would Rhea say if he were to fall, just as Qui-Gon had moments ago? He would not dare break a promise to her.

The creature kicked him in the face, but he did not let it affect him, instead holding out his lightsaber in front of him, looking for the best place to strike him down.  As their blades locked, Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as he pushed against the creature, his eyes glaring deeply into those sickly-yellow ones, now pushing down against his blade. Anger filled him, and rage too, however, the Sith lifted its hand, using the Force and propelling him across the room, and into the shaft. Obi-Wan grabbed ahold of a light as he began to fall, holding on for dear life as the Sith once again began to trail above him, stalking like a creature in the night. He watched helplessly as it kicked his lightsaber down into the shaft, the weapon, his life, now falling down just as hopelessly as he felt. 

Obi-Wan had to keep on holding on. He had to get back up there, he had to avenge his Master’s death. 

No.

As the Sith caused sparks to rain down from above onto him, attempting to get him to lose grip and fall, Obi-Wan could hear her speaking to him.

Do not give into the darkness. Do not give into the anger or hate. Rise above.

A second voice this time came.

Trust only in the Force.

Qui-Gon.

Rise above. 

And for a moment, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Rhea was there, almost floating before him, but he couldn’t see anything around her, only she was in his mind. 

I will stand together with you. Rise above. 

“It occurred to Obi-Wan then, with a clarity that was startling, given the dark side hurricane howling through him, that Yoda was wrong about the dangers of attachment. Or at least that he wasn’t altogether right. It was true that attachment could weaken a Jedi’s resolve. But it could also strengthen it … as he was strengthened now by his love for Qui-Gon, and Rhea. Without them he would have failed long before this moment. And so, leaning on them, he continued to fight.”

And so, Obi-Wan opened his eyes, using the Force to propel him upwards as he jumped, landing behind the Sith and now focusing his energy, not through the Dark Side, but now back through the Force, allowing it to guide him now. Qui-Gon’s fallen lightsaber now flew into his hand as he landed, and with a swift movement of his wrist, Obi-Wan cut through the Dathomirian man, ending the terrors he had caused, as he fell down the shaft, thus causing yet another fall in the rise of the Sith.

For a moment he stood and just breathed, thanking the Force for his strength found in his love for his Master and friend.

Obi-Wan, sensing his Master’s lifeforce still flickering within him, ran to his side, cradling his head as gently as he could, holding onto some form of hope that his Master could still live. 

“It’s... it’s too late.”

“No, no!” 

“Obi-Wan..” Qui-Gon croaked, as best he could, the color draining from his face slowly, marking him with death as his lifeforce continued to flicker, dimming with each passing second. “Promise... promise me you will train the boy.”

“Yes, master..” Obi-Wan wept in response. Qui-Gon raise his hand to wipe his tears, and Obi-Wan rested his cheek lightly against his finger, wishing that this wasn’t the end.

“He is... the Chosen One. He will bring balance. Train him. Help him. You and Rhea must help him....”

Obi-Wan now momentarily forgot his grief, filled with confusion at the mention of his friend. 

“Rhea and I? Master, what do you–”

“There is more to the prophecy than what you know..”

“What, Master, I–”

Qui-Gon hushed him, before uttering his final words. “Train him.” He uttered his final breath, and Obi-Wan, cradling him, felt as if he were destined for some infinite sadness.

╔═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╗

Rhea supposed Naboo was a truly beautiful planet, one to behold amongst the galaxy, but it seemed so bleak and somber now with the death of Master Qui-Gon Jinn. 

She watched the pyre his body laid upon gather with flames that rose to meet the stars in the sky, the smoke dancing among the small lights glittering above.

Standing beside the young boy from Tatooine who introduced himself as Anakin Skywalker, she listened silently to the loss of sound in the Force that was Qui-Gon’s lifeforce. They all felt it, the small darkness that passed over them at the loss of such a wise Jedi.

Obi-Wan stood on the other side of Anakin, who looking up to him, asked, “What will happen to me now?”

“The council has granted me permission to train you. You will be a Jedi, I promise.”

Rhea still could not believe that Obi-Wan had not only become a Jedi Knight, but had also defeated and killed a Sith lord. How they had come to rise again, was still a mystery, but it caused a shroud of confusion and chaos to flow through the Force.

It was hard for Rhea to muddle through, her mind now more clouded and confused than ever, the events having transpired seeming to all be connected — Dooku leaving the Order, the Chosen One supposedly being found, the Sith returning, her bond with Obi-Wan...

It all seemed too obvious in her mind to not be connected, but Mace Windu continued to tell her to be mindful of her thoughts, even if he didn’t know of her bond with Obi-Wan, he still saw her point of view as a quick jump to conclusions.

As the procession ended and people began to filter out from the area of the funeral pyre, she stayed even as little Anakin left along with the other Jedi, staying by Obi-Wan’s side, just as she had promised.

“You’re still here.”

He said, nonchalantly, not even bothering to turn to face her.

Rhea looked up, turning her gaze to fixate on his face. He looked... tired, almost old, held down not only by exhaustion but by the overwhelming sense of loss and sadness which was now being carried by the duty he felt to honor his masters final wish.

“Just as I said I would always be. Right by your side.”

He sighed, turning to look down upon her, his blue eyes meeting with her darker ones.

“So, you really were there, speaking to me.”

“I suppose I was.”

The two were silent for a moment, simply staring into each other’s eyes as if understanding everything they wished to say. Rhea reached up, cupping his cheek softly as tears began to fall down his face.

She then got up on her tippy toes, being much shorter than him, and placed a slow kiss on his forehead, soft and lovingly and holding every hope she had within her.

Obi-Wan sighed softly, “We can’t tell anyone about this bond. Not until I have figured out what exactly it is.”

“We.”

“What?”

“Not until we have figured out what exactly it is. We’re in this together. I told you this already, but you don’t seem to be getting it through your thick skull. I stand by you. Always.”

[queen-scribbles]

Trouble in Paradise

Loosely (and I mean loosely)inspired by me being peeved there’s no story solo difficulty for Kaon Under Siege bc I wanted to throw rakghouls at my newest child. This would be set somewhere mid- to late-Act 2, title is part pun, part me not being able to think of anything better

He had a bad feeling about this.

Tragen had learned long before his Sith training, to trust his gut. He’d since figured out it was less his gut and more the Force, but what it heralded was the same. Which was why, when dread curled through him, he stopped Jaesa with an outstretched arm. “Wait.”

She froze in her tracks and shot him a questioning look. “Master?”

“Something isn’t right.” He could have done without the ominous breeze that picked that moment to blow through, ruffling their hair and clothes.

“You mean besides the fact we haven’t seen another living soul since we touched down?” Jaesa said wryly, brushing back her hair.

Despite the danger, Tragen couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, besides that.”

“Good to know I wasn’t being paranoid.” She surveyed the remaining distance between the shuttle landing pad and the resort building. “I thought it was just me. So, what do we do?”

“We proceed.” He really didn’t care for how lacking in light the whole area was. “With caution.”

Jaesa nodded and fell in step behind him a good ten paces as they resumed course for the building. Neither of them spoke the remaining distance, hands drifted halfway toward the hilts of their lightsabers. Nothing happened, which was almost worse, as the sense of wrongness didn’t abate.

There should be something, some evidence of why a resort like this had gone abruptly and completely silent. But there wasn’t. No bodies, no signs of attack, no lingering odor of anything airborne. Just silence and the seemingly empty building. Tragen could see why the Twilight Paradise’s investors had been looking for a “skilled individual” to investigate. Something about the scenario made the blood run cold.

A faint sound broke the silence as they reached the first doorway, a rustle or chitter from inside, and Tragen barely restrained himself from igniting one lightsaber. It had probably been curious wildlife, there was no reason to be so jumpy--

Something grey and spiny charged at them with an unholy cry halfway between a roar and a howl, closing the distance faster than should be possible.

Tragen swore as his hands closed around the hilts of his ‘sabers, but Jaesa was faster. The pale green blades of her lightsaber blazed through the air as she swung the weapon in an instinct-driven attack. It struck true; the headless corpse of their would-be attacker dropped less than a foot away.

That’s a... He drew his lightsabers but didn’t ignite them. He had a very, very bad feeling about this. “How the hell did a rakghoul get off Taris, let alone here?!”

“Don’t look at me,” Jaesa shrugged as she shut down her lightsaber. The silence seemed to ring with the absence of the comforting hum. “I’m as lost as you.”

“Right. Well, definitely be on your guard,” he muttered, liking the view of winding hallways and blind corners even less now. “Where there’s one rakghoul, there’s always more.”

They both knew why, they’d seen it on Taris.

Jaesa’s knuckles went white around the lightsaber’s hilt. “We’re still checking for survivors, though, aren’t we, master?”

“Of course,”Tragen assured her. This was a civilian facility, not a military installation. He’d never be able to live with himself if they didn’t. “We should eradicate all the rakghouls, anyway, we can sweep for survivors as we go.”

She nodded, and he could see the relief mingled with trepidation in her eyes.  “Alright. Do you want me to take point?”

He shook his head, fingers sliding to rest over the power switches on his lightsabers. “I’ll do it. You watch my back.”

Another nod. “As you you say.”

The first few rooms they passed were empty, though so thoroughly wrecked it look as if someone had tossed in a grenade, not unleashed vaguely sentient monsters. The horrible rising tension made Tragen itch to flick on his ‘sabers, just to be prepared. But the extra fraction of a second it would save wasn’t worth surrendering the element of surprise. He restrained himself, though it grew more difficult with every room void of rakghouls and survivors both.

Where is everyone? Jaesa was wondering the same; he could see it in her face when he glanced behind him. A resort facility this large, they should have encountered someone--or something--by now. 

The next door he tried was locked. Tragen raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Jaesa and gave a nod. Be ready. He clipped one lightsaber back to his belt and knocked on the door. “Is anyone in there?”

No answer. No sound of any kind--which, sainted stars was unnerving. He tried again, slightly louder, with the same result. Despite the lack of reply, he could hear someone in the room, and even knowing it was probably rakghouls he couldn’t just walk away without checking. He ignited the lightsaber still in his hand and drove the orange blade through the door. It wasn’t reinforced at all and he easily sheared a large hole.

With the same howling roar as the one outside, a trio of rakghouls hurled themselves through the opening. One’s trajectory impaled it on his still-ignited blade, but Tragen and Jaesa were forced to dodge the other two. They quickly assumed a back to back combat stance.

Fortunately, rakghouls were dangerous more for their ferocity than their intelligence, and these were no exception. They charged in with lumbering speed and clearly telegraphed strikes that were child’s play to avoid. There was a brief rush of cool air behind him as Jaesa lunged forward with a swipe of her own, green blades humming through the air. She scored a hit across the chest of one rakghoul and it screeched angrily as the pungent odor of burned flesh filled the air.

“Gaah, that’s one thing I didn’t miss about Taris,” Jaesa muttered as she stepped back, close enough Tragen could feel the warmth of her presence behind him again.

“Agreed,” Tragen said with a chuckle, not taking his eyes off the rakghoul menacing him. He calculated the angle, hoped he had it right, and tossed one lightsaber with a sharp flick of his wrist.

He’d had it right. His lightsaber nearly bisected the rakghoul before returning to his hand. He swiveled to help Jaesa just in time to watch her roll one shoulder back to avoid the injured rakghoul’s retaliatory swipe.

She spun her lightsaber and cut off half its arm, then stepped back into the space Tragen had just vacated. The rakghoul scrambled after her and she cut it down with a hard strike to the base of its neck.

“Nice work,” Tragen said, deactivating his lightsabers and letting them hang loosely in his hands.

“Thank you, master,” Jaesa replied with a breathless smile. “It’s tricky fighting something you have to avoid entirely.”

He nodded agreement,peering into the room and wincing at the pair of bodies on the floor. “You know what we need?”

“A preventative shot of the rakghoul vaccine?”

He snorted a half-laugh at the gallows humor-- and the truth at its heart--as he brushed his hair back behind his ears. “Besides that, then. A staff roster, guest list, something like that. So we know how many people were here when it started. What we’re potentially facing.”

“We’d need the front desk or a computer hub,” Jaesa said thoughtfully, brushing hair out of her eyes. “And we’d have to check all the rooms, even ones that are silent. To... count.” She looked ill at the thought.

Tragen rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It will be worth it for the peace of mind. Both for us, and the families we can notify.”

“Closure, I know.” She nodded. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

It wasn’t too much farther before the hallway bent around a corner, which Tragen and Jaesa rounded cautiously. There were no rakghouls lying in wait, but there was a hospitality kiosk set into the wall just past the corner.

“Keep an eye out while I see what I can find,” Tragen instructed as he clipped his lightsabers to his belt and stepped into the small alcove.

Jaesa nodded. “As you wish.” The glimmer of a smile pulled at her lips as she took up a defensive stance facing the hallway. “How much has Vette managed to teach you?”

“Enough that slicing into a non-military system shouldn’t give me too much trouble.”

She laughed softly at that, and then both of them fell silent under the gravity of their circumstances and turned their focus to the tasks at hand.

It only took a minute or two for Tragen to download the information they needed to his datapad. It was not encouraging.

“Full staffing complement of sixty, room for thrice as many guests...” Tragen sighed. “This is turning into a nightmare.”

“Were they full?” Jaesa asked, expression horrified at the thought. 

He checked. “No, thank the stars. Twenty staff and... fifty guests. Seventy if you include the personal aides some brought, which I suppose we should.”

They went back to the room and were able to ID the bodies, both staff. There was no way to tell for the rakghouls, however, aside from finding all the bodies and any survivors and then assuming anyone unaccounted for had... changed. He was going to have nightmares for weeks. And a look at Jaesa as they pressed on--fighting rakghouls, identifying the dead when they could--made him think she felt the same. They’d accounted for almost half the people who were supposedly here, though only a fraction could be ID’ed, when Tragen’s pounding on a locked door brought not rasping chitters but a shaky, “Who’s there?”

“Help,” Tragen replied, shooting Jaesa a surprised and wary look. “Open the door.”

“H-How do I know you won’t turn into one of those... monsters?”

“You don’t,” he bluntly. “But we are the only rescue that’s coming. And how do I know you won’t turn?”

There was silence, and then the muffled roll of multiple voice in pitched debate before the door hissed and slid open.

“Who are you, then?” demanded the man closest to the door, clearly a noble from his dress and manner both.

Tragen’s own posture straightened in response, years of childhood lessons not allowing otherwise. “Lord Tragen Xo’ric, and my apprentice, Jaesa Wilsaam. We were investigating at the behest of Senet Tyral. What happened here?”

There was a derisive snort from one of the other nobles, a woman whose intricate hairstyle was just beginning to unravel. “You can blame Arik Thul for that, my lord. The fool thought the Twilight Paradise would be the perfect place to unwind after serving a tour on Taris, and I hear he rushed or skipped some of his people through the departure procedures so he didn’t lose any of his reservation time.” She scowled. “You can see how that ended.”

“I can,” Tragen nodded. There weren’t even ten people in the room; five nobles, one’s personal attendant, a pair of bodyguards. “How did you escape?”

“Heard screaming and locked ourselves in,” the first man replied. “We’re lucky; this room is meant as a meditation chamber so the walls are thick. If we hadn’t heard, we’d be dead or worse.”

Worse, indeed. Tragen repressed a shudder. “So none of you came in contact with any rakghouls?”

“Not for a moment,” the woman declared. “How do you plan to get us out of here?”

He glanced at Jaesa and she gave a subtle all clear nod. None of them were lying by omission; they all believed they were uninfected. “For now, you’re going to stay here, with the door locked. My apprentice and I need to finish clearing the facility of hostiles. Once it’s safe, we can evacuate you.”

“What if you don’t come back?” piped up a small, nervous man in the back of the room. 

It was a good question. They’d been lucky or skilled enough so far, but either of those could run out at any time. “We came in a shuttle. It’s on the east wing landing pad. If we’re not back in an hour, run for it. But give us time to clear more of the rakghouls or it’ll be a bigger death wish than staying here.”

They all nodded understanding and Tragen left, beckoning Jaesa to follow. The door slid shut so close behind them it almost snagged the trailing scarves of Jaesa’s armor.

 “Nervous bunch,” she commented, “not that I blame them.”

“The only thing that bothers me is how they know what happened if they locked themselves in as soon as they heard screams,” he murmured.

Jaesa thought for a moment. “One of the bodyguards probably linked into the security feeds when they arrived. Most do, even in places that frown on it. The safety of their patron is paramount.”

Something in her voice made him think that was experience, not just a guess. So he simply grunted in reply as they kept walking.

A few moments’ silence lapsed before Jaesa spoke again. “Master... what’s to stop them from running for the shuttle now, without us?”

“Well, nothing, if they decide not to heed my warning,” Tragen shrugged. “But we can always have the others pick us up in the Dawn as a last resort. After the place is clear. It would just mean a bit of a wait.”

“So long as you have a plan,” she said, inclining her head.

“Did you ID our survivors?” he asked in return, pausing to glance down a new hallway.

Jaesa nodded. “The one who opened the door is Pascal Vinick, the woman’s Asha Dellis, the nervous one is Jorman Ryk...” she ran through names for the others as they walked and Tragen did his best to commit them to memory.

“Alright, then,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s clear the rest of this place out.”

<><><>

It was an arduous task that took almost all of the allotted hour, but they did eradicate all the rakghouls they found in the place. Between the numbers of those, and the dead bodies they matched to the staff and guest lists, almost everyone was accounted for, numbers-wise if not specifically. There weren’t any other survivors, though Tragen held out ever-dimming hope until the end. But there was no evidence the handful they hadn’t found were anything but rakghoul food, ghastly as the thought was.

After double-checking the last suite, he and Jaesa headed back to the meditation room and the waiting nobles. They were both silent, despite it being no longer necessary; drained both physically and emotionally and in no mood for conversation.

They collected the nobles, with minor protests about the danger from Dellis and Ryk, and were halfway back to the shuttle when the ground trembled. Without a word, or breaking stride, Tragen and Jaesa drew their weapons. Ryk made a small, worried noise when Jaesa shepherded him along, stumbling over his own feet.

The tremor came again, and Tragen cursed under his breath. Rakghouls were burrowers, how had he forgotten?

Sure enough, just as they exited the building, the ground shook and rumbled, then tore open to disgorge a trio of rakghouls.

“Dammit!” Tragen ignited his lightsabers. “Jaesa, get them to the shuttle!”

“What?!” she snapped, surprise edging the word. “Not without you!”

“I’m right behind you, go!” he snapped back, spinning to face the rakghouls. Two were small and runty grey, but the third made up for any perceived advantage he may have had. Red and gargantuan, it almost trampled its cohorts in its rush to attack.

Jaesa was beside him in a whirl of green blades and teal robes, cutting down one of the runts. “I’m not leaving, master!”

Tragen threw one lightsaber in a vicious arc toward the big rakghoul’s head. He grabbed her arm with his--briefly--free hand and pushed her toward the shuttle.  “Get them safely aboard”--he caught the returning lightsaber--”and start warming up the engines so we can get out of here!”

With one last reluctant glance, Jaesa did as he asked. The big rakghoul swiped at her as she ran, and Tragen wasn’t quite fast enough to block it. Nasty claws snagged the trailing teal scarves of her armor, shredding one and ripping the lower half of the other one clean off.

Tragen let out a Force-amplified roar that had both remaining rakghouls cowering. He cut down the second runt in the breathing room that afforded him, but the big one recovered faster than he expected and he was forced to backpedal away from angry slashing claws. Behind him, the shuttle engines whined to life, and he drove the rakghoul back with a brutal two-blade strike so he could risk a glance in that direction.

Almost, almost, almost. Just a few more seconds’ delay and he could light out for the still lowered boarding ramp. It would be nice to kill this thing first, though. Be able to report they had neutralized the entire colony before it had a chance to become a real threat. He threw himself at the rakghoul, lightsabers buzzing in opposed arcs, and scored two cuts across its chest.

The rakghoul bellowed and lashed out in the same moment Tragen sensed Jaesa’s presence moving closer again. The distraction of the latter kept him from fully avoiding the former, and the claws tore through robes, armor, and flesh to send him tumbling.

“Master!” he heard Jaesa cry out as he fought through the waves of pain.

And we were doing so well, he thought wryly. Gritting his teeth, Tragen rolled onto his back--

--and immediately crab-scuttled backwards to get away from the charging rakghoul. It bellowed angrily when its strikes missed, and he flung the lightsaber he hadn’t dropped at its head.

It was a rushed toss, and he missed, sort of. The blade carved deep into its shoulder instead. Still enough to further injure the seriously wounded monster, even if it wasn’t his goal. Whether by luck or some perverse instinct, the rakghoul batted his lightsaber out of the air as it spun back towards him, and the hilt went flying to the side.

“Tragen!!” Jaesa had moved past concerned and now sounded alarmed, voice louder as the engines shifted pitch, nearly take-off ready.

Weaponless but not defenseless, Tragen ignored the pain in his chest and scrambled back a few more paces before throwing out one hand to push a wave of crushing Force toward the rakghoul. In the same heartbeat that took hold, he felt the Force wrap around him and yank him backwards toward the shuttle, faster than he would have been able to move on his own even uninjured. He barely missed crashing into Jaesa when he hit the boarding ramp, only vaguely registered the clatter of his lightsabers landing next to him through a fresh jolt of pain.

Jaesa scooped up his lightsabers with one hand and grabbed his arm with the other, half-supporting and half-dragging him into the shuttle. They collapsed just inside the cargo bay as the door closed, Tragen hissing pained breaths between clenched teeth and Jaesa already calling the Force to aid them. “Let me see, master.”

A hand closed over her shoulder and jerked her back. “Get away from him!”

Jaesa yanked free of Vinick’s grip and wheeled on him. “My master is hurt and I need to heal him. What’re you doing?!”

“Think, girl, what if he has the rakghoul plague?” Dellis snapped from behind the surviving guards. “It clearly cut deep enough.”

“He doesn’t!” Jaesa fired back vehemently.

“Forgive me if I’m not willing to risk all our lives on just your word,” Vinick sneered, grabbing for her arm again. “Not with this.”

Jaesa dodged his grasp and looked ready to protest further, so Tragen pushed himself mostly upright and added his two credits. “They’re... right.” Stars, talking hurt. Not as much as the fear in Jaesa’s eyes, but pretty close. “Jaesa...” He hissed a sharp breath and tried again. “Jaesa, you need to get the shuttle out of here.”

She dropped to one knee next to him again, and he could sense her worry when he held up a hand so she’d keep some distance. “But you’re hurt! And this is bad.”

He knew that much. “Let me... worry about that.” He pressed one arm over the wounds. “You get us back to the Fleet. Seal the cargo bay door in case I-”

“You won’t!” Jaesa cut him off forcefully.

“I don’t believe I will, either,” Tragen said, half-smiling at her passion. He truly hoped he wouldn’t. That was an ugly end. “But I won’t risk your life, or the lives we just saved, on that hope.”

“Tragen...” she said softly, hands curling into fists.

He didn’t scold for letting the facade slip. No one could hear them. “Seal the cargo bay door, and once you’re in the cockpit, seal that as well. Just in case they weren’t... weren’t telling us everything.”

Jaesa nodded, clearly not happy but willing to do as he asked. “Just... hold on.” Her hand drifted up as if to squeeze his or try to heal him, but she remembered and held it back as she stood.

I’ll do my best. He waited until the door had closed behind her to let out a loud hiss at the pain and call on Force to heal himself at least some. It wasn’t a focus of his, and he wasn’t nearly as strong with the Force as some, so he achieved neither the pure white radiance of Jaesa’s healing nor the menacing purple-black when his fellow Sith used it to pull themselves back together. Instead the energy that gathered in Tragen’s palm was a thin, flickering lavender. It didn’t do much, no matter how hard he concentrated, but he did feel some of the damage knit itself closed. 

Exhausted from the effort of what little he’d managed to accomplish, Tragen leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, and redirected his energy to staying awake. He wasn’t bleeding to death, that was sufficient for now. If he drifted off, there was no guarantee he would come to as himself and that possibility scared him more than he wanted to admit. Especially to Jaesa, which made him extra glad she was sequestered in the cockpit.

I can still feel you through our Force bond, her voice swirled through his mind.

Damn. Forgot about that. He chuckled, resisted the urge to close his eyes. Just get back to the fleet as fast as you safely can. Don’t let me distract you.

Her reluctance and concern were palpable, but he did feel the intensity of her focus lessen.

In a bid to stay conscious, Tragen started mentally reviewing the mission. He ran over everything; what could’ve gone better, what could have gone so much worse. The last group of rakghouls they’d dispatched before collecting the nobles had nearly gotten him and Jaesa both. That would’ve been... well, he didn’t want to think about it. If he was the only one to get hurt, he could live with the way things had gone. Besides, assuming he didn’t... turn, his injuries were relatively easy to mend.

That was what he would focus on. Not the other part.

<><><>

In the end, his efforts proved futile. Pain, blood loss, and exhaustion all worked together to drag him into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

Despite the seeds of concern planted by Vinick and the other nobles, Tragen woke very much himself. Relieved he hadn’t transformed into a monstrosity from the depths of civilization's worst nightmare, he shifted to a moderately more comfortable position and took stock of his surroundings.  He was in a medbay; probably Vaiken Spacedock, seeing as it was a large room with four other beds, and everything about it screamed bare essentials. Serviceable but basic, no luxury features, clearly meant for quick turnaround, whether due to recovery or death. Despite it being a shared room, he was the only current occupant. He appreciated that almost as much as he did being right next to the large viewport displaying a truly dazzling quantity of stars. All his other concerns and questions were forgotten, just for a minute, as he turned to drink in the magnificent view.

“I figured you’d like that,” Jaesa’s voice came softly from behind him. “I know how much you love the stars.”

Tragen turned to give her a grateful smile. “You figured correctly. Thank you.”

She nodded, frozen in the doorway, arms hugged tight around herself. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“That makes two of us,” he chuckled, sliding over so she had room to sit on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

“After you passed out and scared me half to death, you mean?” Jaesa asked, eyebrow arching toward her hairline as she took him up on the unspoken invitation. “We made it back here without incident, and I warned them before we landed that we were fleeing a rakghoul infestation, so they were set up for quarantine by the time we docked. None of us, you included”--she shot him an I told you so look--”showed any sign of carrying the plague, but we all got the vaccine to be safe.” She flashed a tremulous smile. “They actually gave you a double dose before they got you in the kolto tank. To be safe.”

So that was why there was barely a twinge in his side. “How long?”

“Just a day. Apparently it looked worse than it was. There are scars, but...”

“All healed?” Tragen finished for her.

“All healed,” Jaesa confirmed, giving his hand a tentative squeeze. “Just... next time try not to get so banged up.” The wavering smile was back. “I doubt I’d do well with a different master.”

He squeezed her hand in return and smiled. “Trust me, the experience is not one I’m eager to repeat. You’ll be stuck with me a good while yet. Apprentice.”

Her smile gained some confidence at the gentle teasing. “I’m relieved to hear it. Master.”

“So, where are the others?” Tragen asked after a few seconds.

“Around.” Jaesa gestured vaguely toward the hall, the movement pulling her hand free of his. “I told them it would probably only be a few days before you were ready to travel again so not to leave the fleet. Everyone’s doing their own thing. Oh, and Tyral Incorporated sends their sincerest apologies for putting us in harm’s way.”

He smirked. “Did you have a conversation with a corporate rep?”

���One full of apologies and promises of compensation,” she nodded. “She was most adamant Tyral Inc had no idea what had happened when they asked you to look into it.”

“I’m sure they didn’t. That’s why they wanted someone who could handle themselves; not knowing what had happened.” Tragen crackled his knuckles and looked out the viewport again. “And all’s well that ends well; there’s no hard feelings from me. Baras might be another story if he catches wind of what happened.” He sighed. “I suppose you should find someone who knows how long before I can leave and relay that to the others, so they can be preparing.”

“Of course.” Jaesa stood. “I’ll find out and let them know. I”m sure they’ll be glad to get back to business.” A half-smile. “Well, maybe not Vette. I think she’s having too much fun separating people from their money at pazaak. But everyone will be relieved to know you’re alright, master.”

“Thank you, Jaesa,” he said with a warm smile. “You’re doing an excellent job.”

“Just trying to follow your example,” she said shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she headed for the door.

And doing an excellent job. He didn’t say it--she didn’t need the point reiterated--just watched her leave. After even the echo of her footsteps was gone, Tragen slipped his hand under the loose medbay-issued tunic and ran his fingers up his ribcage until he found the ridges of fresh scar tissue. They had healed much better than he would have expected.

All that was left for him to do, then, was rest until he was cleared to leave and thank his lucky stars the trio of new scars were all he had to show for tangling with several dozen rakghouls.

<><><>

It was only one more day before the medical staff deemed him fit to travel and Tragen made his way back to the Empire Dawn and his waiting crew. Jaesa’s prediction had been correct; they were all happy to see him “back in fighting shape” as Pierce put it. Tyral had compensated generously for the danger and trouble--on top of footing the medical bills and promising to handle contacting families of the deceased--and Baras hadn’t seemed more than mildly disgruntled when informed his favorite underling was “indisposed”.

All in all, not a bad outcome for the amount of trouble he and Jaesa had found at the Twilight Paradise, Tragen decided. Not bad at all. 

[rogue-rook]

many highlights from The Stolen Century from a first-time TAZ listener (here there be spoilers)

oh hot damn a flashbacks episode!!!!!

“everything begins, and i mean that quite literally, with the light of creation”

the IPRE has some real nostalgic space exploration nasa vibes to it

travis: “i would like to state that, canonically, magnus calls him “cap’nport” because magnus, like I, loves portmanteau”

suggested names for the ship boat thing: boaty mcboatface, spinnaker (which just means boat), stinky spinnaker, laser spinnaker, hyper spinnaker, flying boat, tail spinnaker, fighting spinnaker, lightbringer, sky spinnaker, sky boat, sky weaver, star dancer, starblaster! the winner! starblaster!

the way they arrived at “starblaster” was such peak mcelroy Creative Nonsense

the reporters at this IPRE press conference have had increasingly silly names

justin: “taako and lup go to a bar and do what they always do at a bar, which is hustle people at pool” i love them so much! i didn’t love taako all that much for the majority of this story but now i think he’s cool as shit

I’m so SO SO SO SO SO EXCITED for lup to be a part of this and be a real character and not just a fucking GHOST haunting taako’s umbrella

magnus wants to go train with the bear of power and that’s the most on-brand thing for him to possibly want to do

travis: “magnus doesn’t kill animals if he can help it” not animals, but of course he has no problem killing dwarves, elves, liches, wizards, ya know, all those PEOPLE he’s killed

justin: “taako and lup are gonzo, they're out of here" magnus: “i’m like checking on bear cubs and making sure everyone's okay" merle: “im like increasing everybody’s speed with spells’ very on brand of everybody here

travis: “okay griffin i have a very important question that i should have asked before-” griffin: “is about your fucking hard candy supply?”

the entire set up of this arc is so fun and good 

justin: “yeah i've got a fucking genius plan and I'm gonna fix everything! come close, griffin, because I'm about to blow your game wide open. I’m going to make a fake light of creation. I’m gonna spend this year like a survivor contestant on their last legs, crafting a false hidden immunity idol. I’m going to craft, to the best of my ability, a fake light of creation. a decoy, if you will!” THIS IS GENIUS

taako: “okay, that’s all well and good but lup and i are going scrapping. this is the most civilized- this is the most technologically advanced place that we’ve been to yet, and I wanna load the ship up with all the valuable mechanical components I can find, so I’m going fucking looting, I’m gonna destroy as many robots as it takes, I’m gonna take these motherfuckers apart piecemeal, so I can take whatever cool magic is powering them. I’m going to loot this motherfucker to brass tacks, I’m gonna just loot and pillage” merle: “burnt earth” taako: “yes exactly”

lup: “i believe one of these times we’re going to get this right. and we’re going to find a way to defeat the hunger and save everybody inside of it. I have to believe that to keep doing what we do, becasue I have to believe that I’m going to get those 15 dollars back from greg fucking grimmaldis” lup is as cool and funny and DOPE as I was hoping she would be

one of these eps, they just kicked it on a beach for 35 minutes and were shitheads about merle’s attempt at gifts. the literal goddamn definition of a bottle episode. im only like 75% sure davenport was even in this fucking episode

travis has named magnus’s fish, magnus’s father-in-law, a rando reporter at the IPRE press conference, and a kid at one of the stolen century planets “steven”. all of those people/fish are called steven, because apparently travis has a thing for that name

clint just called lucretia “lucinda”

well now i understand why merle’s died 50 million times

taako: “i got bad news for everybody. our arch-nemesis is MORRISSEY”

magnus gets excited to learn to carve wood bc its something he could do with knives and weapons and shit and im like oh THATS the most magnus thing he could possibly do!!!

hey cool so barry and lup’s adorable love OWNS MY ASS

that was the sweetest falling-in-love story ive ever heard and it was like 5 fucking minutes. @ fanfiction writers throw all your barry/lup friends-to-lovers fics directly at my head PLEASE

davenport: “lup can you blow it up?" lup: "can i...blow up a mountain?....well, YEAH! but lets save that for a last resort" the legato conservatory person: “i'm going to firmly request that you don’t blow up our sacred mountain”

taako: “hey I’m taako, from TV” griffin: “uh okay-” justin: “what?” griffin: “you haven’t been on tv yet” clint: “it’s aspirational” justin: “yeah, its aspirational. hey I’m taako from TV. you’re all pretty wanged. you’re pretty fucked. there’s good news and bad news, and the bad news I’ve already covered, with the fucked-ness that you are”

jesus, shit got DARK

oh my god the voidfish that magnus saved in the stolen century is the same one on the bureau of balance base. that’s some heart-tingly shit. that’s that GOOD STORY SHIT

griffin: “your adventures in the back half of these cycles are more fraught than the first half” OH IM SORRY? MORE FRAUGHT??? REALLY, GRIFFY?

griffin’s judge character dude: "magnus, you have fought with others your entire life, throughout your adolescence you celebrated strife. i didn't mean to make that rhyme"

one of the future crimes accused of the IPRE crew is “cruelty to a child who loves them” and im like oh. maybe i shouldnt have wanted somebody to call them out on being mean to sweet ango

oh man i wanna hug lucretia so bad and take care of her and make sure she’s okay

griffin: “she wouldn’t go on to found the bureau of balance for decades, but this horrible lonely year, that’s when she became Madame Director” okay, yep, i love her, and i just remembered i was worried for SO LONG that she was hoarding the relics for her own gain and jesus christ IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT THAT, EVERYBODY, I REGRET IT SO BAD

magnus reading fisher the voidfish a story more like GREAT JOY AND HAPPINESS

justin: “taako like walks by [the voidfish] and you just hear him shout ‘give him the complete works of nathaniel hawthorne next!” griffin: “YOU FUCKING HATE THAT GUY!” justin: “fuck that guy” clint: “what do you have against nathaniel hawthorne???” justin: “he is the worst writer and everybody has to read him and it makes kids HATE reading” clint: “last of the mohicans???” justin: “thats- not him, thats james fenimore cooper” griffin: “BOO-YAH!!! [singing] take him toooo schoool” justin: “yall i know the name of TWO authors from that time period, and he did the ONE pull, that’s gonna sound so fucking smart” oh man maybe I really need to reevaluate my ranking of Favorite Mcelroys, justin just reached for the Deepest Cut To Make Me Love Him

magnus: “i don’t find anything useful in this library, so let that be a lesson, kids, you’ll never find anything useful reading books” yeah take that, you punk ass book jockeys

griffin: “I base it on just how much i like the scene, right? so take plus two bond” whoa what GRIFFY DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A SYSTEM FOR THIS SHIT?? HE’S JUST HANDING OUT BONDS AND ASSETS WILLY NILLY????

magnus: “oh, could i have been learning magic instead of feeding books to my buddy?” griffin: “your scene was really good though” magnus: “oh man i could have become a wizard” yeah and break the continuity of THE ENTIRE GODDAMN SHOW

this Lup and Taako’s Greatest Day chaotic destruction is the most fun shit that’s happened in this show

taako: “I pull off her blindfold to reveal this planet’s ONLY DMV. there’s one DMV on the entire planet” this planet has no people and no animals and no living anything besides the 7 ipre crew and yet there’s a DMV leftover from whatever civilization used to be here. UH UH UH SURE JUSTIN

jesus christ i can’t believe lup’s lich form dabbed in the goddamn middle of this ritual

travis: “griffin, i know this wasn't in the instructions you sent us, but I want to make a lightsaber, can I do that?" griffin: "absolutely not!"

the KrebStar is a dope name

griffin: "so like a lotta bear stuff, then, huh?" travis: "look im leaning into it"

travis: “I’m going to name the helmet BearFace- ya know, naming stuff isn’t magnus’s strong suit- and I’m going to call the pendant 2th Necklace”

griffin: “and she’s holding an umbrella” justin: “fuck you” THIS MOMENT IS SOOO GOOD

justin: "I think i speak for the rest of us, and like the entire audience, when i say I cannot wait to see what these fucking 7 items are"

“that was the last conversation you had with your sister” hey griffin. fuck you

“not all exits are equal” HEY GRIFFIN. REALLY REALLY FUCK YOU

oh man lucretia. i can’t believe you did that to everybody. man that’s. that’s rough

this is heartbreaking holy shit. barry begging his bestfriend TO KILL HIM so he won’t forget the love of his life is SOME GUTWRENCHING SHIT HOLY SHIT

this is a really amazing story and I’m so impressed with the way it evolved from a goofy mcelroy joke podcast into such an amazing compelling story