#Galactic federation of planets
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thelarrylockenchanne1 · 12 days ago
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pluralzalpha · 6 months ago
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Galactic Gazetteer: Omicron III
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AKA: Omicron, Omicron Ceti III, Mira III
Class: M
Quadrant: Alpha
Primary: Omicron Ceti A (Mira)
Distance from Earth: c.300 ly
Native life: limited to plants
Immigrant life: pod plants, humans (for a bit)
Colonised: 2264 to 2267
Affiliation: United Federation of Planets
Appearance: TOS "This Side of Paradise " (1967)
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Fun fact: only plants can survive on Omicron due to the constant bombardment of Berthold rays, which kill animal tissue within a week. However, humans were able to colonise the planet when alien plants arrived from spores through space, infecting the colonists with spores that protected them from the rays and kept them in perfect health.
Another fun fact: unfortunately, the spores also turned everyone into blissed out crazies. Captain Kirk put a stop to everyone's fun.
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mentagenesis · 10 months ago
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The Hidden Prehistory of Planet Earth.
by Daniel Wolfert. While researching my highly rated and positively reviewed book MENTAGENESIS: Free Your Mind To Create Your Future! I came across much information in the ancient historical texts and traditions of many different cultures (Sumerians, Egyptians, Greeks, Celts, Hindus, Native Americans, etc.) that indicates the Earth has a long and interesting history that modern academics deny…
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dogmatik · 1 year ago
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Three Seconds.
Rick runs his tongue across his teeth, finds a split above his left canine sluggishly oozing blood. He presses into it, the wound covering his soft pallet with liquid-iron. He used to love the taste of blood, it was exciting, made him see red. That was a long time ago, back when he was with the flesh curtains, doing mostly earth coke in the galactic equivalent of shitty truck stops. Now the taste just pisses him off, reminds him that some nameless waste of carbon actually got a hit in. He can feel a drop of spit and blood plop onto his thigh. He spits and the blood splatters a lurid pink against the concrete floor. He'd wipe his face, but his hands are tied around his back, zip ties of all things dig irritating impressions into the thin skin against his wrist. His knees ache where they're pressed against the floor below him, the cold seeping in through his pant legs and promising a good week of creaking pain if he manages to make it out of this shit hole alive. Fuck, he's too old for this shit.
Rick is pulled very sharply from his thoughts when he hears the door open behind him, followed by strong, steady foot falls and much lighter shuffling ones. He recognizes the later, and his guess is confirmed when Morty stumbles into his line of sight. He doesn't look hurt, his clothes are dirty and there's dust sticking to the tear tracks along his cheeks, but no pain graces his features. Just fear. If it weren't for Morty he'd already be out of here, fucking plastic zip ties were the last thing that would stop The Rick Sanchez. His captor knew that though, and they both knew that the ties were really more of a formality anyway. So yeah, he could've left an hour ago, but with the couple of blows to the side of his head knocking loose his augmentation controls he wasn't convinced he'd find Morty wherever they were keeping him on their ramshackle compound before they decided to take him out back and put the sorry little bastard down.
Speaking of, there's a laser gun pressed snug against the base of Morty's skull. Their kidnapper is a Melvonian, bipedal and mostly humanoid apart from their second set of arms, eyes and various other appendages. Wink. This one is male, about middle aged for his species, his skin tone an admittedly pretty shade of mauve. It's a shame, the guys hot, too bad as soon as he lets his guard down he'll be dead. "Morning Sanchez, I've brought your little buddy. Say Hi little buddy." The man grins, shaking Morty by the bruising grip on his bicep. "Ow, H-hi, grandpa Rick." he winces. "So here's the deal. We've got a really important fight coming up, and that portal tech of yours sure would come in handy." "I don't get involved in interstellar politics, and neither does my badass tech. Bite me." The guy shoves the gun harder against Morty's head, eliciting a squeak of fear and causing his knees to wobble like a new born calf. "Don't interrupt me." Rick rolls his eyes, but stays quiet. For Now.
Rick can see the twitch in one of the mans four eyes, he's still smiling, but he looks angry, a little crazed. Damn, it really is a shame this dude's gotta die. Forgive him for thinking with his dick here, but crazy is pretty much the only type that can keep up with Rick for too long, and the guys got two sets of pecs. Drool. "As I was saying, your tech would help us a lot. Someone from my group has tried and failed to get the machine from you peacefully. Clearly peaceful is not a approach you sway to. Now it's my turn. So here is my ultimatum: Give us a working portal gun and blueprints to build more, or I send a laser through your grandson's head. Simple, no?" He cocks his head to the side, tone light, like he's discussing which restaurant he wants to go to and he's not the perpetrator of a goddamn hostage situation. Morty has been so quiet, eyes trained on Rick. It unnerves him, the genuine panic on his grandson's face. He needs to focus.
Rick's been doing some mental math, trying to figure out how to get through the zip ties and the gun out of this big idiots hand before he pulls the trigger. He can see the safety is on, but he'd recognize a Fentel 16 anywhere, and you can bypass the safety by pressing down the trigger and holding for three seconds. Kinda always struck Rick as defeating the purpose of the safety, but the Fentel series is pretty much exclusively used by criminals, so the company only put a safety on the thing in the first place to get past Galactic Federation manufacturing guidelines. He's not sure he can get to Morty in 3 seconds from here. He needs to think of something, fast. "Listen muscle man, I'm telling you I'm not giving you or your little gang my portal tech. I don't care how righteous you think your cause is, there's a billion other warmongering douchebags in this star system alone who think the exact same thing. I'm not contributing to that." The guys fucking built. Rick isn't short by any means, a cool 6'4" un-slouched, but this guy has at least a foot or so on him. Plus he's pretty sure the dudes forearm is at least the size of his thigh; side note again: Drool. Anyway, he's not sure he can take him in a wrestling match for that gun, especially considering the two extra arms. If Morty reacted quick enough maybe, but the kids little wrists are bound like Ricks are, and he looks scared enough to be nauseous. Rick can't count on him on this one.
"I've been following you a long time, I can tell when you're stalling." Rick can talk a fish out of water on good days, but revolutionary types are a notoriously stubborn breed. He'd know, he was one. Still is, though its been a while since he's been in a fight over anything but his own self-interest. That thought stings just a little. Don't have time for that one, Back in the vault it goes. Rick can see Morty trembling, and can see his chest stuttering when he holds his breath to stop the shakes. It makes Rick's chest hurt a little, like something in there was knocked loose the same time his augmentations were. Rick stops looking at him. "Morty's a shit bargaining chip by the way, Broh. I've got a coupon for a new one from the citadel in my back pocket right now." Rick bares his teeth, smells his own blood on his breath. "Besides, I've been to your pitiful little planet shit for brains, I know your species has a thing about killing kids. You're all too sentimental." Their captor laughs, two of his four eyes squeezed shut in mirth, the other two still diligently trained on Rick "For The Rick Sanchez? I'm willing to make an exception." He grins, double canines glittering blue-white as he switches the safety off and the gun comes alive with a mechanical hum, neon purple lights flicking on incrementally, indicating the charge.
Fuck, there go his three seconds.
#tadaaa#rick and morty#fanfiction#rick and morty fanfiction#r&m#writing#Melvonians#alien species i made up for this fic. theyve got four arms. four eyes. a set of human-ish genitalia. skin tones range from blue to red.#will probably build a little more for them? their planet is called Milvos. theyre decently technologically advanced.#theyre under galactic federation jurisdiction obvi. but at the time of this writing theyre in the midst of a civil war abt planetary border#basically theres rlly only a few habitable portions of their planet. and theres government bodies controlling those portions. they require#certain prereqs for individuals to gain access to those places. theres a sizable group(that this guy is apart of) who believe these borders#shouldnt exist and cause unnecessary and avoidable harm.#thats why the want the portal gun tech. to infiltrate these gorvernment bodies and either demand change or execute dissenters.#the fentel series of lazer guns r manufactured by tentellis corp. mainly a weapons manufacturer#but they do some defense/security stuff too. mostly lasers tbh.#the fentel series is one of like 7 or 8 gun series theyve made. fentel series are hand-guns#theyre on of the better mid-priced hand guns. so theyre very common#anyway no one cares abt my pretend guns#G-126#dats this rick and mortys designation btw#g-126 morty is much less competent/confident then c-137#hes skittish but much more sincere and empathetic. this in part bc g-126 rick is a comparetively tender guy#like theyre still assholes dont get me wrong. but g-126 takes shit way mire seriously. he makes it clear he cares about his family.#that gives morty the room to b vulnerable more often. which in turn helps him retain at least Some of his childlike traits#uh idk i might write more about this dimension. diane didnt get like. blown up they just divorced LOL#bc rick is still rick and he was kinda too young when he got diane preggers#also rick is autistic and so is morty because i said so#they bond over it. although rick is an asshole abt it. but he does let morty info dump on him abt shit he already knows so.#uh wow writing a novel in the tags sorry
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ancienttheblackangel · 2 years ago
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Tiamat herself traveled to Earth to help seed life and created a giant, androgynous, humanoid race, the Namlu’u, to act as guardians of the Living Library on Earth. The Namlu’u were the race that the Greeks called the Titans. The giants that were the “parents” of the “gods” — meaning a race of 50–60 foot tall humanoids who existed here before the Annunaki arrived.
Digital Painting via @ancienttheblackangel
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writing-prompt-s · 11 months ago
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The Galactic Federation makes first contact with Earth just to inform us that the planet has been divided up between several advanced civilizations, with no regard for our established national borders
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andypantsx3 · 11 months ago
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𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 : 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 1.7k of unedited alien prince shouto thoughts based on this post from the other day! sfw, gender neutral reader. several elements of this universe were borrowed from my fave sci-fi novel; see end notes for deets!
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he's beautiful—the todoroki prince. tall and strong in his high-collared uniform, strapped with lean muscle and handsomely humanoid. he's the first thing that snares your gaze as your party is guided into the hall of the sun—the reception dome that overlooks the rise of the star yuuei in the morning sky, used by the ruling family to receive visiting dignitaries.
it is morning, in endeavorian planetary time, and the sun has begun to rise. its light is weaker than you remember from back home—almost watery, pooling like quicksilver in the panes of the dome's ceiling.
up at the front of the hall, it catches in the strands of the white half of the prince's hair. from what izuku has told you, it's the half that indicates he's part of the himura bloodline. the himura dynasty has ruled the yuuei system from its capital planet of endeavor iv for tens of thousands of earth-years. it's the second longest line of unbroken rulers in mapped galactic history, an impressive feat.
the other half of the prince's hair is a fiery red, like that of the man who stands next to him—todoroki enji, the general of intergalactic renown, who donated half of prince shouto's genome as well as his clan name. each time a himuran royal from the main line marries, izuku had explained, talking at lightspeed in the podship, they take a branch name, typically sourced from the primary gene-donator. it helps keep inheritance lines clear.
prince shouto looks like he's inherited empress rei and todoroki enji's genes in exactly half—his coloring split down the middle, though his features are perfectly, almost hauntingly symmetrical. he wears a pin of flint at his collar that symbolizes his gender—one of yuuei's thirteen official designations. from what you understand from izuku, it most closely aligns with earth designation "man".
it's embarrassing how much you notice about the prince as you file into the hall, stationing yourself right at the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, so you can still see todoroki shouto.
"you don't think they'll reject the treaty and kill us all, do you?" denki mumurs nervously as he presses in behind you.
"no, i don't think so," izuku's gentle voice drifts back to you. he's a three-star ethnologist, studying for a command ethnology post. subsequently he's the most informed of any of the cadets that have been sent along with the treatise party. you and denki are just mechanics, sent along in case anything goes wrong.
"the alliance would be too much trouble for the yuuei," izuku explains. "they have good relations with the surrounding galaxies and tight control over a lot of resources. but the alliance is really large now, compared to the last time they approached the yuuei. they'll likely want to accept at least a loose federation with the allies."
up on the platform at the front of the hall, prince shouto blinks long and slow, like an earth cat. you realize with a start it's the first time you've seen him blink at all, and the subtle reminder that he is not just an extraordinarily handsome human man but the prince of an alien species makes your skin prickle.
"don't you think it's weird they are all this pretty?" denki asks. "it's weird, right?"
"definitely weird," you laugh, your eyes trailing over prince shouto's blade-straight nose, his pert, perfect mouth. "possibly illegal under intergalatic law."
prince shouto stills all of a sudden, and there is the tiniest tilt of his head. two heterochromatic eyes flick over your way, and you are completely embarrassed by the way your stomach swoops in response. you just manage not to grab onto tenya's uniform to steady yourself.
one of the prince's eyebrow arches almost imperceptibly, and you wonder if he's heard you from this distance—but no, that would be insane.
denki picks up his commentary, emboldened by your playing along. you think the prince's eyes linger just a little too long on the gap between izuku and tenya's shoulders, but then you're distracted by the reception beginning.
the alliance treaty officer strides forward, flanked by a few of the other officials your crew had ferried here. she performs an elaborate bow, as do the other officials. from izuku's muttering you gather it's some sort of ritualistic greeting, and empress rei at least looks pleased with it, waving a gentle hand to gesture the party forward.
there is some shuffling as various aides set up a table and a series of holo-tablets, along with various inks, a leathery roll of endeavorian traditional parchment, and—
"is that a knife?" you ask, peering at the long obsidian blade placed on the table in front of the officials.
izuku's fluffy head of green curls inclines. "treaties are sealed twice. once in the alliance fashion and then again in the local custom, to make it binding per both systems. blood pacts have been used in yuuei for millennia."
the brush of something over your face has your gaze turning back to the prince—to find him staring straight at you, those unblinking eyes boring into you.
"izuku, weird question. can the yuuei hear across rooms?" you ask, suddenly self-conscious.
a green eye peers back at you. "only in the event of their pair bonds—the yuuei are documented hearing their matepair across approximately ten earth-kilometers. i think we're safe over here though. why?"
matepair. the world settles strangely under your skin, as the prince's eyes brush across it.
"uh, matepair?" you echo.
tenya gives both you and izuku a quelling look, but it's not enough to deter izuku from ducking down to explain in slightly quieter tones. "the yuuei look human but they pair differently. they form a parapsychic bond with only a single partner, which they maintain and uphold for life. it's not just cultural—it's like a physical compulsion. they cannot take another pair, and they cannot be separated for long periods or they grow sick."
prince shouto is still staring straight at you, and it's not quite comforting enough to know that he cannot possibly hear you.
it's only his role in the ceremony that seems to eventually break the prince's weird focus in your direction. he steps forward to perform his duty as empress rei's chosen heir. you almost flinch as the knife draws across the pale skin of his palm, and he adds several drips of silvery blood to the parchment, symbolizing yuuei's intent to uphold the treaty across future monarchs.
the flesh of his palm knits itself back together in seconds, and another little shiver goes up your spine. those mismatched eyes flash back your way as he steps back, and the various aides and officials once again converge on the documents.
there is a brief flurry of activity, various bows and oaths, some stilted endeavorian verse. the chief treaty officer looks relieved when it's all over, and the royal family steps down from the dais to greet the rest of the visiting party, as is the customary honor granted to allies to the yuuei. tenya ushers you into the queue near the back with denki, a symbol of your lower status as mechanics.
you don't mind, as the thought of reaching prince shouto has your stomach doing what feel like backflips in your gut. the longer the delay the better.
izuku had walked everyone through the appropriate greetings on the podship, a few murmured words and a hand touch at chest-level—extremely hard to mess up, even for you. but nevertheless your pulse kicks up the closer you draw to the royal family.
there's a long line of them you greet first. offshoot branch members, then general todoroki enji, whose enormous palm burns hot against yours and who looks he'd rather take your party's hands off than touch them. then rei's unchosen heirs—the princess fuyumi, prince natsuo—and a gap where prince touya would have stood, were he not offworld.
and then you're standing in front of prince shouto, your pulse pounding in your ears. he's extremely tall up close, clearing six feet easily, broad across the shoulders and handsome in a way that almost makes your teeth ache. the yuuei look deceptively human, but this near you can see the tiny details that separate them from you—the slight double-point to their ears, the silvery undertone to their skin, the prolonged space between their breaths and their blinks.
and of course their inhuman beauty. they don't quite look like regular people, and it sparks a tiny note of wariness in the primeval part of your human hindbrain.
prince shouto's mismatched eyes pin you, silver and blue, as a sudden, silvery flush creeps across his face. you hold your hand out in greeting, trying not to wonder if you've somehow managed to offend him already—but instead of pressing his palm against yours, his long fingers suddenly grasp yours, clasping tightly.
beyond him, empress rei freezes too. all at once you can feel every single himuran noble turn to look at you, hundreds of eyes pinning on you.
reflexively, words tumble out of you. "shit did i—what did i do? were you supposed to get a different hand thingy?"
you can hear the treaty officer's horrified inhale at the terms shit and hand thingy, deployed in crass galactic standard in front of a literal prince. you immediately wish you could take them back, but from the look on the prince's face, he's already heard them.
something at the corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile.
"y/n," he says, in a deep tone. it's crisply accented and just as beautiful as the rest of him.
it takes you a second to realize prince shouto has used your name, which he could not possibly know considering the uniform you'd been issued for the yuuei visit has no unique identifiers on it. you glance down at yourself, then back up at him, befuddled.
"how did you—? where did you—?" you garble out. "did denki put you up to this? how do you know me?"
prince shouto's fingers smooth over yours, delightfully warm, calloused and sure. "i would know you in any universe," he says, voice soft. behind you, you hear princess fuyumi make a tiny sound of delight.
you blink. "universe? what—uh, what universe? how would you—?"
but shouto leans in, tugging you closer with those deceptively strong fingers. he's so very warm up close, and so beautiful it makes your brain short circuit, especially as he lowers his face to yours. a shiver rolls down your spine as his other hand takes you gently by the chin.
and then he murmurs a single word before pressing his mouth to yours—
"matepair."
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𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: credits where they are due!! the idea of a space general dna donator, an overarching space alliance pursuing a treaty, & the flint pin denoting gender were taken from my fave sci-fi novel winter's orbit by everina maxwell! (if you love heartfelt gay love stories in space i am actually begging you to read it).
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boopjuice · 6 months ago
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Human's Are Space Orcs: Sticks and Stones
Tools are hardly uncommon in the Galactic Federation. Without them, not a single species would have been able to advance, create sustainable food sources, societies, spacecraft. But, for most species, tools have advanced alongside the species.
"Human Jane, what is that you are holding?"
"A stick."
"... Why do you have a stick?"
"In case I need to scratch my back, duh. Or to hit the engine if it acts up again."
Humans, as with much else, didn't get the memo.
Chi'l'zak had spent several cycles with humans, even spending time on their native planet and some of their interstellar colonies. Their weather was horrifying, and their culture so diverse it gave xem whiplash. It was on one of these trips that xe learned of the human's particular affinity for tools.
Xe was at what Human Sarah had called a 'beach' at one of the colonies, and xe saw as an adolescent human began to dig a fire pit. Except, instead of using a shovel, he had grabbed a nearby piece of driftwood and began to use it to dig. Xe was certain the efforts would be fruitless, the stick being rounded and not suitable for digging. But in twenty minutes there was a pit a meter deep, deeper if one counted the walls the adolescent human had made from the excavated sand.
Xe had brushed it off as human stubbornness and continued with xir trip unfazed, until Human Lake had wanted to go hiking. Chi'l'zak agreed, not truly understanding the point of simply walking up and down mountains but willing to try the experience and see if maybe xe could gain some anthropological notes on the subject. Halfway up the mountain Human Lake called a halt. he wandered into the trees for a moment and returned with a stick almost as tall as he was.
"We can rest here for a while. I've been needing a new walking stick, and this one's just gorgeous."
"But, Hu- Lake, why do you need walking assistance? You have been perfectly fine up until this point. Are you injured? Should I apply first aid?"
"Nah, I'm fine, 'zak. I don't need one, they're just nice to lean on when you're hiking. Plus their fun to have. makes me feel like a wizard, y'know? But I gotta smooth this one down if I'm gonna use it, or I'll have splinters in my hands for days."
Chi'l'zak didn't mind the rest, and took the time to simply observe the flora and fauna in the area, absorb some nutrients from xir pack of supplies, and-
*scrape* *scrape* *scrape*
As Chi'l'zak looked over, xe found Human Lake seated on the ground, legs fcrossed in a manner that was normal for humans but made xir fur stand on end. He had balanced the stick across his legs, and was scraping it with a rock he'd apparently found nearby.
"Human Lake, what are you doing?"
"Smoothing out the stick, like I said." He didn't look up from the task he'd set himself too, continuing to scrape the rock along the stick, occasionally hitting it against small branches to knock them off.
"Yes, but why are you using a rock? Surely there are better tools. I have heard tell of a common smoothing agent, 'sand paper,' that would be better suited to the task."
"Don't have sandpaper on me. Besides, the premise works the same. Rub two rough things together and the softer things gets smooth. Sure, a rock isn't going to have as fine a grain as some sandpapers, but it works in a pinch."
"but we are not in a 'pinch', as you say. We are perfectly capable of taking the stick back with us and getting sand paper."
"Look, the rock works just fine for me, and it's cheaper. No point wasting money when i have the tools to do the job already."
"Human lake, that is a rock. That isn't a tool."
"Sure it is, if you get creative enough. You can use it to smooth things, hit things, if you angle it like this you can probably use it to dig, and you could always throw it. Hell, I'll bet you this end here could be used to open that stupid finnicky pressure lock Jacob's been complaining about."
"But it isn't mean to do those things. It could damage the lock worse, or break the wrong things."
"Look, 'zak, i appreciate the concern, but a tool is what you make of it. If I've got some nails I need hammered down and all I've got to hand is a rock, then I'm going to use the rock until the rock breaks or the nails are hammered. Just because we have tools better designed for a task doesn't always mean we need to use them. Sometimes old ways work just fine."
Chi'l'zak was quiet the rest of the time Human Lake used the stone to smooth the surface of his new walking stick, and had quite the interesting talk with him the rest of the hike about old human tools, how they were used, selected or constructed. Xe learned about spears and bows and how some still used those tools for hunting. Learned of tools used in leatherworking, all made of bone since the first leatherworkers had found nothing better to work with, and modern human's hadn't either.
"Anthropological Notes: Humans are excellent at creating and using tools, as are most other species. However, humans are slow to abandon old types of tools, some using the same methods prevalent centuries ago in order to complete a task simply because they have the old tools to hand. Humans are also adept at improvising tools, able to use one item for many different functions depending on their needs.
In relation to Incident 739, human crewmembers should not be allowed to bring items such as sticks or rocks on board without prior authorization, lest the engine be completely dismantled again."
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specialagentartemis · 2 months ago
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Inspired by @clonerightsagenda’s thoughts about the Ambiguously Brown Spacefuture trope, I kinda want to see more creativity with how Earth is treated in spacefuture sci-fi.
There are plenty of examples where Earth is the center of everything. Star Trek is the obvious one: it’s a bustling interstellar multispecies space society, and Earth is where Starfleet is headquartered and it’s often reflexively and unthinkingly treated by the narrative like it’s the most important planet in the Federation. (Most of our main viewpoint characters are Human, so it’s the most important planet to THEM because it’s their home, but even beyond that, Earth is treated as critically key to the Federation in a way that, say, Betazed is not.)
More recently, the common trope is that the centers of society and culture and economy and politics are elsewhere. Other planets are important, and Earth is either an unimportant backwater that no one really cares about, or galactic humanity has nearly forgotten about it entirely. This is explicit in Becky Chambers’s Wayfarers, strongly implied in The Murderbot Diaries, and one line in Ancillary Justice suggests that too. Ofc this isn’t entirely new—from what I understand it’s what’s going on in Dune too.
And they do this for obvious reasons: the authors are all interested in social and political worldbuilding that is not tethered to real Earth nations, politics, prejudices, and general baggage. Second-world fantasy authors are allowed to do this with no strings attached, but sci-fi authors who want to do social worldbuilding from the ground up have to justify why people don’t appear to identify as Chinese or Latino or Hopi or American anymore (and more often than not, not Jewish or Catholic or Muslim or Hindu or Baha’i or whatever either), why those identities don’t come into conflict with the new planetary identities and spacefuture religions the author wants to write about. It’s been so long that the origin of humanity is forgotten or irrelevant.
Star Wars is honestly underappreciated for the bold, creative, unique choice to have a bustling interstellar multispecies space society with lot of humans… and no Earth. At all. Where do humans come from? Irrelevant. Not Earth though.
And honestly I wish more sci-fi that wants to write in this space took more of a cue form Star Wars to just own it. (I actually thought the Imperial Radch HAD done the same thing—functionally a second-world fantasy, but in a spacefaring setting—until Kat pointed out the reference to arguing over which planet was the real origin of humanity.) If you posit your space future as our future, but Earth is no longer relevant and is generally forgotten… I guess it depends on how far out it is, but it strains my credulity that no one remembers or cares! The Jews in the spacefuture don’t know/remember/care where Jerusalem is? Muslims in the spacefuture decided that going to Mecca just kinda isn’t worth it? The spacefuture Papal seat is no longer in Rome and the future Catholics don’t know or care that it was ever anywhere else? All the Hopis left the Three Mesas and all the Navajos left Dinétah and all the Māori left Aotearoa and then just… forgot about it? Really? That isn’t true after hundreds and even thousands of years today; why would it be true hundreds or even thousands of years in The Spacefuture?
There are some works that do a little more complexity with spacefuture planetary societies and cultures vs. memory of Earth—the Vorkosigan Saga positions Old Earth as a culturally important memory even if it’s not a politically important planet, and The Locked Tomb makes Earth a holy center place that is mythicized more than it’s known or inhabited, for magic necromancy reasons.
I’d like to see more of that, Earth holding some sort of unique place in spacefuture humans’ culture in a historically informed way, even if you actually want to write about other things. Or go the Star Wars route and proudly proclaim that this takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, don’t worry about it.
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reginaldqueribundus · 2 years ago
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the Sarek family is hilarious to me because you have so much drama in one place. there have got to be at least 3 like, holo-documentaries or whatever about them. how could you not?
you have Sarek, the patriarch: one of the UFP's top diplomats, who knocks up a Vulcan princess then goes “hrm I am ambassador to Earth therefore I should marry a human” and he does, upsetting all sorts of the worst kinds of people on his home planet and causing racist hate groups to try to blow him and his family up multiple times, and seems honestly more put out by his son joining Starfleet than his other son becoming Vulcan Moriarty
Amanda, the matriarch: an accomplished educator and quite possibly the only well-adjusted member of the family, but when her son Spock shows up on her doorstep after growing a beard, having a mental breakdown and apparently murdering several medical staff she still shrugs and hides him in the family mausoleum
Sybok: Amanda's stepson from the aforementioned princess fling, who becomes an antiestablishment criminal mastermind with an edgelord fake name, hooks up with a hot space pirate, finds religion, starts a cult, takes an entire colonial government hostage sparking a diplomatic incident involving three galactic superpowers, and hijacks a Starfleet ship to the galactic core to find the Vulcan Garden of Eden, where he dies fighting god in hand-to-hand combat
Michael, a traumatized human girl Sarek brings home from a work trip, who joins Starfleet, becomes their first-ever mutineer, goes to prison, saves the Federation from a war most people think is her fault and gets “killed” in a highly classified, very suspicious incident involving an experimental starship and a series of red lights that appeared across the galaxy like a divine omen (oh, and returns 900 years later to solve the dilithium crisis, kill the head of the Emerald Chain and save two entire star systems including her siblings' homeworld)
and last but not least Sarek & Amanda's one-of-a-kind hybrid baby. Spock, who gets accepted into the Vulcan Science Academy, tells them to go fuck themselves when they're racist about it, runs off to Starfleet instead, gets so famous his arranged marriage falls apart resulting in him publicly strangling his own captain to death except not really, steals the Federation flagship twice, invents time travel, saves the entire planet Earth, dies and comes back to life, goes into his dad's line of work and achieves peace with the freaking Klingons as his opening act, then after a long successful career suddenly dips to go do extremely dangerous underground activism on one of the most paranoid authoritarian worlds in the galaxy to unify the Romulans & Vulcans who've hated each other for over a thousand years — and he isn't around to see it but it eventually works. then he fucks off with the VSA's high-speed prototype ship full of the most dangerous substance known to science and gets sucked into a black hole of his own creation, never to be seen again. and this is just the stuff that's public knowledge!
then you dig into the novels where Sarek's ancestor basically makes out with Zefram Cochrane 5 seconds after meeting him and Amanda tells the press her husband has a huge cock
I love them
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reactorshaft · 1 year ago
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Padme, the child queen, who wears her stoic face of diplomacy under a ten pound wig and headpiece, who poses pillar-straight under even heavier 50 pound elaborate gowns, who pleads to the Galactic Senate to help her planet. Her planet was blockaded, her cities invaded, her people captured and detained in camps. The queen Padme, whose pleas were democratically ignored due to the greed of corrupt senators allied with the Trade Federation that sought to seize her planet. Padme, the young queen, with her back straight and her face calm and unlined, had to bear their dismissal. Padme, who assisted in the defense of her planet with two Jedi and a boy they pulled from slavery. A boy who called her an angel and did not hesitate to risk his life to help save hers when thousands of galactic representatives so recently declared the lives of her and her planet not worth the risk or effort.
And years later when this boy cries over his mother, only just dead, and admits to slaughtering those who captured and imprisoned her, Padme thinks, “This is a man who will do anything for me, will slay my enemies, will be the anger I should not feel. He is worth the risk and effort.”
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thelarrylockenchanne1 · 15 days ago
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Oregon coast power outage
youtube
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pluralzalpha · 9 months ago
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Galactic Gazetteer: Corazonia
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Type: Dyson ring
Class: M (inner surface environment)
Quadrant: Alpha
Inhabitants: Corazonians
Affiliation: United Federation of Planets
Appearance: LWD "In the Cradle of Vexilon" (2023)
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Fun fact: built over 6 million years ago by a species that then sublimed to the 5th dimension, and colonised much later by the humanoid Corazonians.
Another fun fact: environment managed by the sentient supercomputer Vexilon.
Fun fact 3: do not enter Safe Mode with Vexilon, this will trigger his environmental reboot programme.
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tinfoil-jones · 27 days ago
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The fact that Stan has made a whole career out of commit crimes and sell off scams—swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying and committing a long list of goofily-named crimes—in order to survive alone in the world is part of what makes his character so interesting.
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Filbrick realized a bit too late that Stanley never should have become a hardened criminal:
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[Art by dimonds456] [Full vers in ch.24]
Because yeah, he's not a killer. He's never killed anyone, but at this moment Filbrick did not know that.
So here you have Stanley who is explaining, in-detail, from experience, what it's like to die of suffocation, while choking a man.
Here's the updated/final lore list of stuff he's allegedly done that only happened in this story and didn't happen in canon, Stan:
Doesn't start to worry about stab wounds until he gets to five
Used cocaine that he cut with Ambien, to the point that a standard dosage of Ambien for an adult man doesn't effect him, just kinda seasons his water more than anything.*
*This drug resistance also made it to where he's almost completely untouched by the dissociative properties of Ketamine.
*He was also totally fine after being loaded up with a tranquilizer that was not intended for human use, and was synthesized with paranormal creatures and monsters in mind. This same tranquilizer incapacitated his identical twin Ford for almost twenty-four hours, and he still had to be injected with Narcan to bring him out of out.
Has been kidnapped at least once before.
Has done questionable things for twenty dollars.
Has gotten shady back alley stitches before.
Was involved in a shoot-out with Agent Powers (an IRS agent) while he was running with Jimmy Snakes biker gang.
Has thirty unique attempts on his life so far.
Has escaped five prisons, two of those escapes were from the Infinetentiary. Which he broke into to rescue/conjugal visit his friend/ex Rick.
Was chased down the Interstate for fifty miles by Jimmy, who was trying to literally drag his soul to Hell.
Stole sleeping drugs from the Galactic Federation.
Has enough experience with unlawful abduction and confinement, and involuntary commitment, that he knows the distinct differences between them.
Has had his shoulder dislocated enough times he can easily reset one.
Caused half of the psychologists who tried treating him while he was committed to quit. The other half ended up also committed.
Was banned from Lottocron Nine for starting The Crusades
Was banned from Planet Chorus, for reasons unknown, but the domino effect would cause the Chorusan Civil War in 2552
Was banned from Arkansas for "corrupting" a large number of Southern Baptists.
Blew up an unmanned Galactic Federation warehouse because they didn't accept the prescription pad that he forged in English.
Did a keg stand with liquid ecstasy.
Was killed by the IRS.
Legally speaking, his full name in the Galactic Federation is "Staniel Danger Malone" because Rick was the one who registered an I.D* for him back when Stan didn't understand the regimes official language. His name is written in his I.D in Gromflomish as: ⌇⏁⏃⋏⟟⟒⌰ ⎅⏃⋏☌⟒⍀ ⋔⏃⌰⍜⋏⟒
Was banned from the City of Tijuana for selling flour tortillas that he mixed with sand, and telling everyone they were corn tortillas.
His DNA is potentially 104% identical to Fords
On one planet, his name is synonymous with "Customer Complaint" because he sold very subpar copper.
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keehomania · 11 days ago
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dark side — rcm (18+)
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⋆. 𐙚 ˚ angst, smut, the story of anakin and padmé re-told, murder, genocide, swearing, reader is older than rafe here, death, the phantom menace, attack of the clones, revenge of the sith, emotional manipulation, fuck the jedis all my homies hate the jedis, unprotected sex, pregnancy
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
a galaxy far, far away was an arras of countless worlds, woven together by the invisible threads of trade routes, alliances, and ancient rivalries. at its heart stood the core worlds, dazzling centers of power and wealth, where spires of glittering cities pierced the heavens. beyond them stretched the mid rim, a crossroads of commerce, where prosperous planets bustled with life. and further still lay the outer rim—a lawless expanse of stars and shadows, where danger thrived in the absence of order.
in this vast universe, power was a currency, exchanged between those bold enough to seize it and those desperate enough to relinquish it. the galactic federation had long served as the fragile scaffolding of peace, uniting distant systems under a single banner. but peace, like the stars themselves, was fleeting. greed gnawed at its edges, and whispers of rebellion echoed through the void.
the skies above ilthara, a desert moon on the outer rim, burned with twin suns. beneath their relentless gaze sprawled a bustling spaceport, its air thick with the acrid scent of fuel and spice. traders bartered with shrill voices, hawking wares that glittered like starlight or reeked of danger. starships of every make and model hovered in dock, their hulls scarred from journeys across the galaxy’s treacherous veins.
rafe cameron was a child of this chaos. born into the cameron syndicate, whose name was spoken with a mixture of awe and disdain, his life had been one of no privilege painted in shades of grit. the syndicate thrived on control—of cargo lanes, planetary exports, and the illicit trade that oiled the galaxy's endless machinery. rafe, though only nine years old, bore the weight of this legacy like a mantle too large for his narrow shoulders, as a slave.
his mother had vanished years ago, swept away by the same treacheries that had made his father rich. his father, ward cameron, ruled their holdings with an iron fist, and though rafe was young, he had already learned that strength was not a choice—it was survival. he walked the crowded streets of ilthara’s markets with a practiced air of confidence, sharp blue eyes scanning every face, every deal, every hidden blade.
he was clever, too clever for his own good, many would say. where other children played, he schemed. where others begged for scraps, he found ways to barter, to manipulate. he was small for his age, wiry, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see too much and a mouth prone to smirking as if he already knew the punchline of a joke you hadn’t yet told.
that day, he sat atop a rusting cargo container, legs swinging idly, watching the chaos unfold below him. he liked to think of himself as a king surveying his kingdom, though in truth, his “kingdom” was little more than the market district where his father’s reach was strongest. still, he had learned that appearances mattered, and sitting up high gave him the advantage of looking down on everyone else.
“rafe!” a gruff voice cut through the clamor, and rafe turned to see garro, one of his father’s enforcers, lumbering toward him. “what do you think you’re doing up there? your old man’ll skin me alive if i lose track of you.”
rafe rolled his eyes but slid down from his perch, landing in a puff of dust. “relax, garro. you worry too much.”
“it’s my job to worry,” the man grunted, his scarred face contorting into something that might have been a frown. “your father doesn’t want you wandering off.”
“i’m not wandering,” he retorted, brushing the sand off his trousers. “i’m observing. there’s a difference.”
garro muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue. he knew better than to try reasoning with the boy. rafe had his father’s stubborn streak, though he wielded it with a charm that could be disarming—when he chose to use it.
the market was alive with noise and color, from the sizzling of food stalls to the sharp calls of traders hawking everything from exotic spices to battered starship parts. rafe wove through the crowd with ease, his small frame slipping between larger bodies like a shadow. he listened, always listened. every whispered deal, every raised voice, every nervous glance—it all painted a picture of the galaxy’s ceaseless dance of power and survival.
he stopped in front of a stall where a twi’lek merchant was haggling with a rodian over the price of a damaged hyperdrive coil. rafe didn’t need to hear the details to know the coil was stolen—it was written in the way the twi’lek’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter.
“three hundred credits,” the rodian barked, waving his blaster for emphasis.
“five hundred,” the twi’lek shot back, though his voice wavered.
“four,” rafe interjected boldly, stepping between them. both aliens turned to him, startled, but rafe only smiled. “and you’ll throw in that fuel regulator,” he added, nodding toward a piece of equipment half-hidden under the counter.
“who do you think you are, kid?” the rodian growled, his green skin darkening with irritation.
“someone who knows a good deal when he sees one,” rafe replied, unfazed. he turned to the twi’lek. “four hundred credits and the regulator. take it or leave it.”
the twi’lek hesitated, then nodded quickly. “fine. take it.”
the rodian grumbled but handed over the credits, snatching up the hyperdrive coil and the regulator before stomping off. rafe grinned, satisfied. he hadn’t earned anything from the deal, but he didn’t need to. influence was its own reward. but as the day wore on, the usual rhythm of the market began to shift. whispers spread like wildfire, voices hushed yet urgent. a ship had landed at the spaceport—not just any ship, but a royal cruiser, its polished hull gleaming even under ilthara’s harsh suns.
rafe felt the change before he saw it, the way the crowd grew uneasy, their movements jittery. he followed the murmurs, weaving through the throng until he reached the edge of the landing platform. and there it was—a sleek vessel, unlike anything he’d ever seen. Its ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics, and figures began to descend. first came the guards, their blasters held with military precision. then came two men in brown robes, their hoods pulled low but their presence undeniable. jedi.
rafe’s heart skipped. he’d heard the stories, of course—who hadn’t? but seeing them in the flesh was something else entirely. they moved with a calm purpose, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their lightsabers. and then you appeared. your dress was simple yet elegant, your posture regal. even from a distance, rafe could see the weight you carried, the responsibility etched into your features. you were older than him—fourteen, maybe fifteen—but there was something about you that made you seem untouchable.
“who is she?” he asked aloud, though no one answered. it didn’t matter. rafe didn’t need to know your name to feel the pull of destiny.
rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were unlike anyone he’d ever seen, your very presence radiating authority and elegance, yet there was something in your eyes—something fragile, as if the weight of the galaxy rested on your shoulders. the crowd parted instinctively as you moved, flanked by the two jedi. whispers rippled through the market like a gust of wind.
“that’s the queen of naboo,” someone murmured.
“the jedi are protecting her.”
“why is she here? what does naboo want with ilthara?”
rafe absorbed the words without reacting, his sharp mind piecing together the puzzle. naboo was a distant world, far removed from the outer rim. its queen’s presence here was no coincidence. whatever your reasons, they were tied to the unrest gripping the galaxy.
you had stopped at a stall, her delicate fingers brushing over a display of woven fabrics. the merchant stammered nervously under your gaze, bowing repeatedly. rafe edged closer, his curiosity getting the better of him.
he was so focused on you that he didn’t notice the jedi until he nearly walked into one. the taller of the two—broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes—glanced down at him. rafe froze, suddenly aware of how small he was in the presence of someone so commanding.
“careful, young one,” the jedi said, his voice calm but firm.
rafe blinked, recovering quickly. “i wasn’t doing anything,” he replied, feigning innocence.
the jedi didn’t respond, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to you.
rafe’s attention shifted back to the you. you were closer now, inspecting a piece of jewelry the merchant had presented. your guards stood rigid, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats. it was then that your gaze lifted and met his. for a heartbeat, time seemed to still. you eyes were a rich color, deep and full of questions. rafe felt as if you could see straight through him, past his confident smile and into the boy beneath.
“who are you?” you asked, your voice soft but commanding.
rafe hesitated, caught off guard. “rafe,” he said finally. “rafe cameron.”
you tilted your head, studying him. “you’re not from naboo.”
he laughed, a sound that came out sharper than he intended. “no, i’m not. and you’re not from around here.”
you didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “no. i’m not.”
the older jedi stepped forward, a subtle but clear gesture of protection. “your majesty,” he said gently, “we should move on.” your gaze lingered on the young boy for a moment longer before she nodded. “of course, master qui-gon.”
rafe watched as you turned and walked away, the jedi and your guards forming a protective circle around you. he felt a strange pang in his chest, a sense of loss he couldn’t explain. but he wasn’t ready to let you go.
as you and your entourage made your way through the market, rafe followed at a distance, keeping to the shadows. he wasn’t sure why—something about you drew him in, a magnetic pull he couldn’t resist. you were out of place here, just like him, and he wanted to understand why. he wasn’t the only one watching you, though. across the market, a group of rough-looking men had begun to move, their eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam. rafe recognized them immediately—slavers, the kind who preyed on the weak and desperate.
his jaw tightened. slavers were common on Ilthara, and while the cameron syndicate didn’t deal in flesh, his father often turned a blind eye to their operations. But this was different. you didn’t belong here, and you didn’t deserve to fall into their hands. without thinking, rafe quickened his pace, slipping through the crowd until he was just behind the slavers. they were murmuring to each other, their intentions clear.
“she’ll fetch a high price,” one of them muttered.
“keep your voice down,” another snapped. “wait for the right moment.”
rafe’s hands clenched into fists. he didn’t know what he could do against men twice his size, but he couldn’t just stand by. before he could act, though, the jedi moved. qui-gon and the younger man—obi-wan, rafe overheard someone say—turned as one, their movements fluid and precise. In the blink of an eye, their lightsabers ignited, blue and green blades humming with an otherworldly energy.
the crowd scattered, gasps and screams filling the air as the jedi advanced on the slavers. the men hesitated for a moment, clearly realizing they were outmatched, before fleeing into the shadows. rafe stood frozen, his heart pounding. he’d never seen a lightsaber in action before, and the sight of it left him awestruck.
you turned, your expression calm but your eyes wary. “is everything all right, master qui-gon?”
he deactivated his saber, nodding. “for now. but we should hurry. this place is dangerous.”
as the group began to move again, rafe found himself stepping forward. “wait!” he called, surprising even himself. you had turned around, your brow furrowing slightly.
“you’re not safe here,” rafe said, his voice steadier than he felt. “i can help you.”
qui-gon regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “and why would you help us?”
rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting to you. “because i can,” he said finally. “and because i want to.” for a moment, no one spoke. then, you nodded. “very well. lead the way, rafe cameron.”
the air in the dimly lit chamber buzzed with tension as the group huddled around the holographic map of the galaxy. you, with your regal poise unwavering even under dire circumstances—listened intently to qui-gon and obi-wan discuss their next move.
“our best course of action is to reach coruscant,” qui-gon said, his deep voice steady. “the galactic senate must be informed of the trade federation’s blockade and the invasion of naboo. they may not act swiftly, but they need to know.”
you nodded, your expression unreadable. “and how do we get there with a damaged hyperdrive? we’re stranded unless we make repairs.”
obi-wan leaned over the console, his brow furrowed. “there’s a remote desert planet nearby—tatooine. its location on the outer rim keeps it out of the trade federation’s reach. we might find the parts we need there.”
“you’re suggesting we gamble on the resources of a planet run by gangsters and criminals?” captain panaka interjected, his voice tight with concern.
qui-gon’s expression softened but remained resolute. “it’s a risk, but one we must take. staying here is not an option.”
in the corner of the room, rafe stood quietly, listening but not fully understanding the weight of their decision. his sharp blue eyes darted between the speakers, lingering on you—now disguised as a handmaiden. you had shed the heavy robes and ornate headdress of naboo royalty, blending into the background with the other attendants.
rafe’s gaze lingered as you adjusted the folds of your cloak, your every movement drawing his attention like a magnet. he had never seen anyone so poised, so out of reach yet entirely captivating. the sleek silver starship descended onto the golden sands of tatooine, its engines whining as the ship struggled to land smoothly. the harsh desert sun blazed overhead, reflecting off the endless dunes and casting long shadows.
the group disembarked cautiously, the arid heat hitting them like a physical force. rafe shielded his eyes from the glare, taking in the sprawling spaceport of mos espa—a chaotic mix of ramshackle buildings, alien vendors, and dust-choked streets.
“i don’t like this place,” rafe muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
qui-gon, accompanied by jar jar binks and r2-d2, turned to face you and your disguised attendants. “stay with the ship. i’ll find the parts we need.”
you stepped forward, determined despite the jedi’s warning look. “master jinn, perhaps i can assist. i’ve learned to barter and negotiate during my time in service.”
qui-gon hesitated, then nodded. “stay close.”
rafe immediately perked up. “can i come too?”
obi-wan stepped in, his voice firm. “you’ll remain here, rafe. it’s safer.” the boy frowned but didn’t argue. instead, he watched as you and the others disappeared into the labyrinth of the marketplace.
rafe spent the better part of the day wandering near the ship, restless and bored. when you finally returned, dusty and weary from the search, he rushed to meet you. there wasn’t a chance in the world of him taking his eyes off you, not when you looked so beautiful, so etherreal—unlike anything he had ever seen.
“are you an angel?” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing the moment the words left his mouth.
you paused, taken aback by the question. “excuse me?”
“an angel,” he repeated, his voice more confident this time. “i heard some pilots talking about them. they’re the most beautiful creatures in the galaxy, and they live on the moons of Iego. are you from there?”
a smile tugged at your lips, despite yourself. “no, i’m afraid not.”
“well, you look like one,” rafe said earnestly.
the sincerity in his eyes caught you off guard. for all his young swagger and bravado, there was still a boyish innocence to him—a flicker of hope in an otherwise hardened exterior. you crouched to his level, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” rafe grinned, the kind of grin that hinted at the man he would someday become.
that evening, as you sat with obi-wan outside the ship, he explained the harsh realities of tatooine. “slavery is rampant here,” obi-wan said, his voice low. “the hutts control most of the planet, and anyone who crosses them doesn’t last long.”
“and rafe?” you asked, your heart sinking. “he’s a slave too, isn’t he?”
obi-wan nodded. “he belongs to the cameron family—a notorious group of slavers who’ve operated here for decades. his father is ruthless, but the boy—he’s different. there’s something about him.” your chest tightened. you had sensed it too—a spark in rafe that defied his circumstances, a potential for something greater.
when qui-gon proposed entering rafe in the boonta eve classic podrace to win the parts they needed, the boy’s face lit up with excitement. “i can do it,” he insisted. “i’ve built my own podracer. it’s fast—really fast.” you weren’t too thrilled with the idea of sending someone so young off, knowing the damage that it could do, but he persisted, nonetheless.
your worries failed to falter, even as the race started. it all seemed like a blur of adrenaline and danger, the roar of engines echoing across the desert. you watched from the stands, your heart in your throat as rafe maneuvered his podracer with skill and precision far beyond his years. your worries were cut short when he crossed the finish line, the sound of the crowd erupting in cheers drowning out your fear.
while preparing to leave tatooine, a conspicuous shadow fell over the dunes. to the others, he needed no introduction, but the look of fear in rafe’s eyes made it evident that he bad no idea what he was really getting into. when darth maul appeared, his crimson double-bladed lightsaber ignited with a menacing hum.
qui-gon faced him head-on, his green blade contradicting the sith’s fiery red. “go!” he had shouted over his shoulder. “get to the ship!” rafe clutched your hand as you ran, his small fingers trembling. the clash of sabers rang in your ears, the stakes suddenly feeling far too real for him to handle.
the hangar bay of the naboo palace was silent save for the hum of the force field gates and the ominous footsteps of darth maul. his black robes swept the floor as he stepped forward, his tattooed face a mask of focus and malevolence. qui-gon jinn and obi-wan kenobi ignited their lightsabers, the green and blue blades illuminating their determined faces. maul, in response, revealed his double-bladed crimson weapon, both ends sparking to life with a snap-hiss. the sith’s grin widened. he prowled like a predator sizing up its prey.
the first clash of sabers echoed across the chamber, a flurry of sparks flying as the jedi and the sith locked into combat. qui-gon moved with deliberate precision, his strikes steady and purposeful. obi-wan, younger and more agile, darted around maul with quick, fluid movements, searching for an opening. maul, however, held the advantage. his acrobatics were dazzling, his twin blades a blur of lethal light.
from the shadows, you watched with bated breath. the duel was unlike anything you had ever seen—elegant yet brutal, a deadly dance of light and shadow. rafe stood beside you, his small hands gripping the railing tightly. his wide eyes reflected the glow of the sabers, a mix of awe and fear etched into his face.
“they can win, right?” he asked quietly.
you glanced at him, unsure of how to respond. “they have to.”
the duel moved out of the hangar and into a long, narrow corridor lined with energy barriers that activated and deactivated in rhythmic intervals. the combatants were forced to adapt to the environment, their battle pausing and resuming as the barriers shifted. obi-wan, momentarily separated from qui-gon, stood helplessly behind one of the fields, his face tense with worry. qui-gon faced maul alone, his strikes still strong but beginning to slow. the sith pressed the advantage, his movements relentless and precise. with a sudden, ferocious lunge, he struck qui-gon in the chest.
“no!” obi-wan’s shout echoed down the corridor as qui-gon staggered backward, his lightsaber slipping from his grasp. he collapsed to the floor, clutching his wound, his breath ragged.
in the hangar, rafe turned to you, his expression panicked. “we have to help them!”
“stay here,” you said firmly, grabbing his arm before he could dart off. “you’ll only put yourself in danger.”
“i can’t just stand here!” he insisted, his voice cracking.
“listen to me,” you said, crouching to meet his eye level. “sometimes, the best thing we can do is trust them to do what they’ve trained for.” rafe hesitated, tears pooling in his eyes, but he nodded reluctantly.
when the energy barrier deactivated, obi-wan surged forward, his lightsaber a blur of blue light as he unleashed a flurry of attacks on maul. his strikes were fueled by rage and grief, each swing more aggressive than the last. maul, however, was ready. he deflected obi-wan’s blows with ease, his smug grin only stoking the jedi’s fury. the fight moved to a deep reactor shaft, its narrow walkways suspended over a seemingly endless drop.
maul’s taunts were silent but evident, his predatory gaze daring obi-wan to make a mistake. and he did. with a precise kick, maul sent the jedi tumbling over the edge. obi-wan managed to grab hold of a protruding ledge, his lightsaber falling into the abyss below. hanging precariously, he looked up to see maul looming above him, his red blade poised for the killing blow.
in the hangar, rafe’s restless energy reached a boiling point. “i have to do something,” he muttered, his voice trembling. before you could stop him, he darted toward the starship he had piloted earlier. Yyu called after him, but he was already climbing into the cockpit.
“what are you doing?” you shouted.
“helping!” he called back, his voice muffled by the canopy.
rafe powered up the starfighter, its engines roaring to life. he maneuvered it with surprising skill, guiding it toward the palace’s main control tower. in the reactor shaft, obi-wan closed his eyes, drawing on the force to calm his racing heart. he reached out with his mind, summoning qui-gon’s fallen lightsaber.
the green blade flew into his outstretched hand, igniting just as maul prepared to strike. with a powerful leap, obi-wan launched himself back onto the walkway, catching the sith off guard. in a final, decisive move, he sliced through maul’s midsection. the sith’s body fell into the abyss, his expression of shock frozen in time. obi-wan deactivated the lightsaber, quick to rush to qui-gon’s side.
the jedi master’s face was pale, his breaths shallow. “obi-wan, promise me something,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“anything, master,” he said, tears streaming down his face.
“train the boy,” qui-gon said, his gaze shifting to rafe, who had just entered the room. “he—he is the chosen one.” and just like that, his eyes closed, his head tilting to the side as he breathed his last.
in the skies above naboo, rafe found himself in the middle of the battle. his small hands gripped the controls tightly as he weaved through enemy fire, his instincts guiding him. he accidentally entered the droid control ship’s hangar, where his starfighter’s torpedoes misfired, hitting the reactor core. a chain reaction of explosions began to tear the ship apart.
“oops,” he muttered, his face pale as he scrambled to escape. he barely made it out as the control ship exploded in a brilliant flash of light. the droid army on the surface shut down, collapsing mid-attack.
the people of naboo and the gungans united in celebration. the streets of theed were filled with music and cheers as you and your allies marched in triumph.
rafe stood beside you, his face a mix of pride and uncertainty. “i didn’t mean to blow it up,” he said sheepishly.
you laughed, ruffling his hair. “you saved the day, rafe. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
the galaxy had grown restless in the years since the boy named rafe won his freedom and began training under obi-wan kenobi. the republic, once a beacon of peace and stability, was now a fractured entity, its senate riddled with corruption and inefficiency. systems began seceding, joining the separatists under the enigmatic count dooku, a former jedi turned political leader. whispers of war rippled through the galaxy, and the jedi order found itself stretched thin, forced to serve as both peacekeepers and soldiers in a galaxy teetering on the edge of chaos.
rafe had changed in the years since he was freed. the child who once wore a lopsided grin and looked at the stars with wonder had grown into a man. his presence was commanding, his voice steady, his features refined and sharp. the dark curls of his hair framed his face, and his eyes, once bright with innocence, now carried the weight of someone who had seen far too much in far too little time. he stood taller now, his shoulders broad, his movements deliberate. his strength in the force had blossomed, but his emotions—intense and untamed—remained a challenge for him, often clashing with the rigid codes of the jedi order.
it was during this period of uncertainty that your paths crossed again. you had grown too, rising to prominence as a senator, your voice a steady force of reason in the republic’s senate. it had been years since you’d seen rafe, but his memory lingered in the back of your mind like a distant star, faint but unwavering. your days were consumed by the demands of politics, and your nights offered little solace as the threats against your life increased. the stakes of the galaxy's future weighed heavily on you, and danger had become a constant companion.
the jedi council assigned obi-wan kenobi and his padawan, rafe, to your protection after the first assassination attempt nearly claimed your life. the moment you saw him again, your breath caught in your throat. he was no longer the boy you remembered but a man who carried himself with a quiet confidence that was almost disarming. his robes flowed elegantly around him, and his gaze, once warm and open, now held an intensity that both unnerved and captivated you.
“senator,” he greeted with a formal bow, his voice deep and steady.
you met his gaze, your own faltering for a moment. “rafe. it’s been a long time.”
his lips twitched as though he wanted to smile, but the weight of his role kept his expression neutral. “too long,” he replied, his tone betraying the slightest hint of warmth. for a time, it seemed his mentor, obi-wan, was the only one who noticed the flicker of something unspoken between you.
the night of the second assassination attempt was chaotic. you awoke to the faint hum of servos as a sleek droid slipped into your quarters, its metallic limbs moving with eerie precision. before you could cry out, the door burst open, and rafe was there, his lightsaber blazing. the blue glow of his weapon illuminated the room as he moved with the grace and precision of a trained warrior, slicing the droid in two before it could harm you.
he turned to you immediately, his breathing slightly labored. “are you hurt?”
you shook your head, still shaken but unharmed. “no. i’m fine, thanks to you.”
obi-wan arrived shortly after, assessing the scene with his sharp eyes. “this attack was no coincidence. they’ll try again. we need to get the senator off-world.”
rafe nodded, his jaw tightening. “i’ll go with her.”
obi-wan hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and rafe. “are you sure that’s wise?”
“i’ll keep her safe,” rafe said with a conviction that left no room for argument.
the journey to naboo was quiet. the lush, rolling hills and tranquil lakes of your home planet offered a stark contrast to the chaos you had left behind on coruscant. for the first time in what felt like years, you could breathe. yet, even amidst the serenity of naboo, there was an unspoken tension between you and rafe, a tension that grew with each passing day.
one evening, the two of you sat by the water’s edge, the setting sun casting golden hues over the lake. rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. “i used to dream about this place. when i was a boy, on tatooine, i used to imagine what it would be like to see naboo with my own eyes.”
you glanced at him, your heart aching at the memory of the boy he had been. “and now that you’re here?”
“it’s more beautiful than i could have imagined,” he said, his gaze lingering on you as he spoke.
his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you turned away, your mind racing. “rafe, we can’t. you know what the jedi code says.”
“i don’t care about the code,” he said, his voice suddenly fierce. “not when it comes to you.”
before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was tentative but full of emotion. for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, in him, before pulling away, your heart pounding.
“rafe, this isn’t right,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction. you couldn’t focus on what your heart asked for, you needed to focus on what mattered—your people.
“i know,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “but it doesn’t change how i feel.”
the days that followed were as tense as ever, both of you teetering on the edge of something forbidden yet irresistible. but rafe’s peace was short-lived. his dreams began to haunt him, vivid and terrifying visions of his mother in pain, crying out for help. he woke one night drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged.
“i need to go to tatooine,” he told you the next morning, his expression grim.
you didn’t hesitate. “i’ll go with you.”
the journey to tatooine was somber, and the planet greeted you with its unforgiving heat and endless dunes. at the lars homestead, rafe learned the devastating truth: his mother had been taken by tusken raiders weeks ago. without hesitation, he mounted a speeder and sped off into the desert, his jaw set with determination.
you followed, arriving at the camp just in time to witness the aftermath. the ground was littered with the bodies of tusken raiders, and rafe stood amidst the carnage, his lightsaber still ignited. his chest heaved with exertion, his face a mask of anguish and fury. later, back at the ship, he confessed everything to you, his voice trembling with shame and anger.
“i killed them,” he said, his gaze fixed on the floor. “every last one of them. and not just the men, but the women, and the children. they were animals, and i slaughtered them like animals.”
you reached for him, but he pulled away, his shoulders shaking. “i couldn’t save her. i couldn’t do anything.”
you sat beside him in silence, your heart breaking for the man who was clearly at war with himself.
the galaxy had shifted once again, and as the republic scrambled to understand the scope of the growing separatist threat, rafe’s anguish over his mother’s death weighed heavily on him. the dark seed planted in his heart during that moment of rage on tatooine had begun to take root. you could see it in the way his jaw clenched, in the faraway look that occasionally clouded his otherwise piercing eyes. his internal struggle was palpable, and it pained you to see the boy you once knew so tormented by emotions he couldn’t control.
you left tatooine quickly, both of you seeking distance from the horrors that had transpired. rafe was quieter now, his usual confidence replaced by a brooding intensity. even as you tried to comfort him, offering words of solace and gentle touches on his arm, you could feel the wall he had built around himself growing thicker.
your brief respite was interrupted when rafe received word from obi-wan. his mentor had tracked the bounty hunter responsible for the attempts on your life to the planet kamino. there, obi-wan had discovered a massive army of clones commissioned in secret years ago, supposedly at the request of a long-dead jedi named sifo-dyas. the clones were based on the genetic template of the very bounty hunter who had tried to kill you.
rafe listened to the transmission in silence, his expression unreadable. when obi-wan informed him that he was pursuing the bounty hunter to geonosis, rafe turned to you. “i have to help him,” he said simply, his voice steady but heavy with determination.
“and what about me?” you asked, your heart sinking at the thought of him leaving.
his gaze softened, the conflict in his eyes breaking through his stoic demeanor. “i need you to stay safe. but if you insist on coming with me, i won’t stop you. i can’t bear to leave you behind.”
you chose to go with him. the two of you traveled to geonosis, where the tension between you only deepened. the unspoken feelings, the stolen moments, the lingering glances—they all weighed heavily on both of you. upon arriving on the barren, rocky world, it didn’t take long to locate obi-wan. unfortunately, you were quickly captured by separatist forces and thrown into a holding cell alongside him. rafe’s frustration was evident as he paced the confines of your prison, his fists clenched and his mind racing for a way to escape.
“rafe, calm down,” obi-wan urged, his voice steady. “losing control won’t help us here.”
rafe shot him a look, his jaw tightening. “i won’t let them hurt her,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
before either of you could respond, you were dragged from your cell and taken to the geonosian arena. the heat of the midday sun was oppressive as you were chained to one of three stone pillars. across the sand, monstrous creatures were released, their snarls and roars filling the air.
the fight that ensued was desperate. rafe moved like a whirlwind, using his lightsaber and the force to keep the creatures at bay. obi-wan fought alongside him, their movements fluid and precise despite the dire circumstances. you did your best to fend off the beast that lunged toward you, using the resources around you to stay alive until rafe reached your side.
“i’ve got you,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. his words were both a promise and a comfort, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay.
relief came in the form of mace windu and a battalion of jedi, their lightsabers igniting in unison as they stormed the arena. the sight was awe-inspiring, and for a moment, it seemed as though victory was within reach. but the separatists refused to surrender, and the battle quickly escalated into an all-out war as droids poured into the arena.
in the midst of it, you were separated from rafe. he fought valiantly alongside obi-wan, his determination unwavering despite the odds. when the bounty hunter jango fett was killed in the melee, rafe barely spared him a glance, his focus fixed on the larger threat looming over the galaxy.
the battle raged on, culminating in a chase as count dooku attempted to flee the planet. rafe and obi-wan pursued him, their dropship racing across the barren landscape. you had managed to rejoin them, but the pursuit took a devastating turn when you were thrown from the ship during a violent maneuver.
“turn back!” rafe shouted, his voice filled with panic.
obi-wan grabbed his arm, his tone firm. “we can’t. if we lose dooku now, everything we’ve fought for will be in vain.” rafe hesitated, his eyes darting between you and the fading trail of dooku’s ship. finally, he made the painful decision to continue the chase, his jaw tightening as he turned away from the sight of you lying unconscious on the ground below.
the confrontation with dooku was brutal. the sith lord was a formidable opponent, his skill with a lightsaber far surpassing what either rafe or obi-wan had anticipated. rafe fought with everything he had, his emotions driving him as much as his training. but it wasn’t enough. dooku struck him down, severing his arm and leaving him writhing in pain on the ground.
obi-wan fared no better, and it wasn’t until yoda arrived that dooku’s escape was delayed. the diminutive jedi master fought valiantly, but dooku ultimately escaped, taking with him plans for a devastating weapon—the death star.
when you finally reunited with rafe, his injuries were severe, but his spirit remained unbroken. you stayed by his side as he recovered, your feelings for him growing stronger with each passing day. the war had only just begun, and the galaxy was in chaos, but for a brief moment, there was peace in the small, secret world you shared with him.
it was on naboo, under the soft light of the moon, that you and rafe made a choice that would forever alter the course of your lives. despite the jedi code, despite the war, despite everything, you pledged yourselves to each other in a quiet ceremony. it was a forbidden union, but in that moment, it felt like the only thing that truly mattered.
the soft hum of naboo's evening air filled the quiet, secluded garden where your forbidden ceremony was to take place. the lush greenery was dappled with the golden light of fireflies, their glow dancing along the delicate petals of exotic flowers that framed the scene. a serene lake stretched into the horizon, its waters mirroring the full moon and the endless stars above. everything felt alive and magical, as though the galaxy itself was holding its breath for this moment.
rafe stood beneath a canopy of wisteria, his tall figure framed by the delicate purple blooms. he was clad in simple jedi robes, but the way they draped over his broad shoulders made him look regal, commanding. his golden hair caught the moonlight, and his face held a mixture of determination and vulnerability. his eyes, deep and filled with unspoken emotion, never left yours as you approached him.
you wore a gown of soft ivory, simple yet elegant. it flowed like water, trailing behind you as you walked barefoot through the grass. your hair was adorned with small blossoms that rafe had picked himself earlier that day, each one a symbol of the beauty he saw in you.
the only witness to your union was the droid, r2-d2, who had faithfully followed rafe throughout his journey. his small, chirping beeps provided an oddly comforting backdrop, a reminder of the innocence and wonder that still existed despite the turmoil of the galaxy.
rafe reached for your hands the moment you were close enough, his touch warm and grounding. his thumb brushed over your knuckles as he took a steadying breath, his voice soft but firm when he spoke.
“i know this is forbidden,” he began, his words heavy with the weight of his choice. “but i also know that my love for you is stronger than anything I’ve ever been taught to fear. the code, it’s meant to protect us, but it can’t define what’s in my heart. and my heart belongs to you.”
you felt a lump form in your throat, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. you squeezed his hands, your voice trembling as you replied.
“rafe, i’ve spent so long trying to suppress how i feel, trying to convince myself that this—this isn’t real. but it is. and i can’t imagine a future without you in it. if loving you is wrong, then i’ll break every rule a thousand times over, just to be by your side.”
he smiled, a rare, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “you’ve always been braver than me,” he murmured, his voice tinged with admiration.
you both turned toward the small hologram projector that r2-d2 had activated, its flickering light casting an ethereal glow over the scene. the image of a naboo holy figure appeared, his serene expression a contrast to the quiet defiance in your hearts.
“do you, rafe cameron, take this woman to be your partner, to love her and stand by her, no matter what trials the galaxy may bring?”
rafe’s gaze never wavered from yours. “i do,” he said, his voice steady, filled with unwavering conviction.
“and do you, senator (y/n) (l/n),” the figure turned to you, “take this man to be your partner, to love him and remain by his side, through light and shadow?”
your lips trembled as you whispered, “i do.”
rafe reached into his pocket, pulling out a simple ring he had crafted himself. it wasn’t made of expensive materials, but the smooth, polished band reflected the care and effort he had put into it. he slid it onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly.
“i give you this ring,” he said, his voice breaking with emotion, “as a symbol of my promise to you. no matter where the galaxy takes us, no matter what challenges we face, i will always find my way back to you.”
you blinked back tears, pulling a similar band from your pocket. it was simple, but etched along its surface were faint patterns you had carved—a representation of the stars and the bond you shared. you placed it on his finger, your hands steady despite the flood of emotion. “and i give you this ring,” you said, your voice strong, “to remind you that you are my home. wherever you are, rafe, that’s where i’ll always belong.”
he stepped closer, his hands cradling your face as he leaned in. “i love you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. as his lips met yours, the world around you seemed to fade away. the fireflies paused their dance, the gentle rustle of the trees grew still, and for a moment, it was as though time itself held its breath.
rafe hadn’t returned to the jedi temple that night. the weight of his choices, the life he was trying to lead, and the love he could no longer deny had driven him straight to you. like a moth drawn to a flame, he was helpless against the pull you had over him, as though you had tethered him with an invisible string that always brought him back. every thought of you consumed him, every beat of his heart ached for the solace only you could provide.
the quiet hum of the naboo night greeted him as he slipped into your quarters, his presence nearly undetectable. his robes swished softly against the floor as he moved through the darkened space, the moonlight streaming through the curtains casting silver trails across the bed where you waited for him. his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you.
you were lying there, your body delicate on top of the thin sheets, wearing only a white lace tank top and the soft fabric of your panties. your hair cascaded over the pillow, catching the moonlight like strands of spun gold. the soft rise and fall of your chest matched the calm serenity of the room, but the look in your eyes—half-lidded, smoldering, filled with unspoken yearning—held an intensity that set his heart ablaze.
rafe’s steps slowed as he approached the foot of your bed. his jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he were trying to anchor himself, to restrain the wild tide of emotions surging within him. but the moment you reached out for him, all of his resolve crumbled.
“you’re here,” you whispered softly, your voice like a melody that seemed to soothe every wound he carried.
“i couldn’t stay away,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion as he sank onto the edge of the bed. he reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “you’re the most beautiful flower i’ve ever picked,” he murmured, his words carrying the weight of his reverence for you.
a soft blush bloomed across your cheeks, but you didn’t shy away from his touch. Instead, you reached for his hands, guiding them with deliberate slowness to the thin straps of your tank top. your eyes held his, unwavering and filled with trust, as you slid the straps down past your shoulders. the fabric fell just enough to reveal the delicate curve of your collarbone, and his breath hitched at the sight.
“i love you, rafe,” you whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the depth of your feelings. it was enough to unravel him completely.
his lips descended on yours with a softness that surprised you. there was no rush, no desperation—just the slow, deliberate melding of his mouth with yours. his hands cradled your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours with a passion that left you breathless, and yet it was tender, reverent, as though he were afraid of breaking you.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room. his hands slipped down to your shoulders, tracing the bare skin there as though memorizing every curve and line.
“i’ve never felt anything like this before,” he admitted, his voice a soft murmur against your lips. “you’ve changed everything for me, you’re my light.”
you reached up to cup his face, your fingers threading through his golden hair. his lips found yours again, with more urgency, more need. his hands trailed down your arms, brushing over the straps of your tank top until they slipped further down, baring more of your skin to the cool night air. you shivered beneath his touch, but it wasn’t from the cold—it was the warmth of his hands, the way they ignited a fire within you that only he could soothe.
his kiss grew deeper, more possessive, as his hands found the straps of your tank top once more. with a gentle tug, he pulled it down, watching the way the silk slipped down your body, revealing your breasts to the moonlit room. rafe’s eyes darkened, and he took a moment to drink in the sight of you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “my beautiful wife,” was all he could manage to utter.
you watched him, your eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and love. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, echoing the rhythm of the night outside. rafe’s hand slid up, cupping one of your breasts, his thumb flicking over the sensitive nipple. a soft moan escaped your lips, and he took that as his cue to lean down, capturing the peak in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tightened bud.
your hands found his robes, pulling at the material. the fabric was thick, but yielded easily to your insistent touch. rafe helped you, his own hands trembling with desire. you watch the robes slide off, revealing his bare chest, his muscles taut and warm. you ran your hands over his skin, feeling his heart pound in sync with yours, the heat of his body against your palms.
his kisses grew more frantic as he moved down your body, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone. his hands found the waistband of your panties, and with a gentle tug, he pulled them down. you lifted your hips to assist, eager to feel the fullness of his touch. his kisses traveled lower, along your torso, until his mouth reached the juncture of your thighs. your breath caught as he kissed along the inner length of your thighs, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. finally, his mouth found the center of your desire, his tongue flicking against your clit in a way that made your toes curl.
“rafe,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. “feels so good, ’s too much.”
when you thought you had reached the final state of nirvana too high to manage, rafe pressed a finger into you, curling it upwards and gently pumping in and out. “have to get you ready for me, yeah?” he murmured between pumping and licking. after a few pumps, he added another finger, keeping a steady rhythm with his tongue against your clit, his long fingers hitting the exact right spot again, and again, and again. your breath began hitching and the edges of an orgasm neared. rafe continued pumping into you, pushing her closer toward the edge, his tongue a warm, wet pressure guiding you through your first time.
finally, you felt yourself crest over the edge, your body spasming and shaking with pleasure. “oh, rafe,” you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut. when you opened them, you swore you could finally see your husband in his glory. he looked at you as if you were all that mattered, as if he would do anything—cross anyone—just for your sake. he looked at you, and only you, because you were all he could see.
his mouth pulled away from your center, and he looked up at you with a proud, smug smile. “good?”
you nodded, unable to form coherent words. “so good.”
his smile grew wider, and he sat back, pulling his fingers from you. he stood up and pulled his robes the rest of the way off, revealing just how much he really needed you, standing proud and ready. you couldn’t help but look away, despite it was being everything you dreamed of, in a terrifyingly intimidating way. just a few days ago, you were the senator, your priority was your people. now, you were about to make love in secret, with the man you had married in secret.
rafe frowned at the look on your face. “it’ll be okay,” he assured, his voice soothing. “i promise, it’ll be okay.” you nodded, still trying to catch your breath. he took your hand, rubbing reassuring circles into your skin with a warm smile. it was his way of telling you that everything was going to be okay, reminding you of the reason you’d married him in the first place. he leaned over and kissed you, deep and passionate. once again, his hands found yours and he interlocked your fingers, squeezing them tight as he positioned himself between your legs.
his cock hovered above your entrance, the tip glistening with precum. you could feel the warmth of him, the heat of his desire. “are you ready?” he whispered, his voice thick with need.
you nodded, your heart racing. “yes,” you breathed. “i’m ready.”
his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation. finding none, he began to press himself into you, inch by agonizing inch. you bit your bottom lip to stifle a gasp as you felt yourself stretch around him. the pain was intense, but it was mixed with something else—a feeling of completeness, of finally being where you belonged. rafe’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth gritted as he pushed through the resistance of your virginity.
once he was fully sheathed, he stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation. “are you okay?” he couldn’t help but ask again, his voice strained with effort.
you nodded, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. “yes,” you whispered. “don’t stop.”
he began to move, his hips rolling into you in a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to echo the heartbeat of the entire galaxy. you felt your body responding to him, tightening around him, drawing him in deeper with every stroke. the pain began to recede, replaced by something much more powerful—desire. being this close to you, this intimate—it was intoxicating.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him closer. rafe’s eyes closed, his head dropping to your shoulder as he began to thrust into you with more force. your moans grew louder, your body moving in perfect sync with his. it was as though you had been made for this, as though every cell in your body had been waiting for this moment. the room grew warmer, the air thick with passion and need. the smell of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the scent of his sweat, creating a heady aroma that only served to drive him wilder. he could feel himself getting closer to the edge, but he didn’t want it to end. not yet.
rafe’s hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit again. he began to rub in slow circles, matching the rhythm of his hips. your muscles tightened around him, your nails digging into his skin as you climbed closer to your peak. “rafe, rafe, rafe,” you chanted, your voice breathy and desperate, as if his name was the only thing on your mind. that was exactly how he wanted it to be.
his strokes grew quicker, more urgent, as he felt his own climax approaching. “i’m so close,” he murmured into your ear, his voice ragged with desire. he contemplated his choices, his eyes hazy with an unspoken wish that needed no words, you could see it in the way he looked at you. “can i—”
you nodded, your eyes squeezed shut, your body taut with anticipation. “yes, rafe. please.”
he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he felt his release building, the tension coiling in his belly as he held you close, almost as if he was afraid of losing you. he held you, his hips snapping against your flesh as he pumped in and out of you. finally, with a guttural groan, he came, his warmth filling you. he held still for a moment, his breaths hot against your neck as he enjoyed the feeling of your body clenching around him. you felt a strange sense of pride, knowing that you had brought this powerful man to such a vulnerable state.
you both laid there, panting, your bodies entwined as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through you. his weight was comforting, grounding. you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in a long time. the room was silent except for the sound of your hearts beating in unison. slowly, rafe pulled out of you, the stickiness of your combined releases a stark reminder of the intimate act you had just shared. he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rolling off the bed to grab a towel. he cleaned you up gently, wiping away any trace of himself from your body, treating you with a tenderness that was almost unbearable.
the galaxy stood on the precipice of change, the once-stalwart republic teetering under the weight of war. the clone wars raged on, leaving scars on planets and people alike. rafe, now a celebrated jedi knight, had become a war hero, hailed for his bravery and skill in battle. yet, beneath his stoic exterior, a storm brewed. the weight of his love for you, his clandestine wife, and the growing disillusionment with the jedi order were forces he could no longer ignore.
the council chambers of the jedi temple felt colder each day. rafe’s faith in the order had wavered. where once he had found guidance and purpose, he now encountered doubt and dismissal. his master, obi-wan, once a source of wisdom, now seemed more like an obstacle, a reminder of the life rafe could never fully embrace. in contrast, supreme chancellor palpatine had become a source of reassurance. his subtle praise and unyielding support had planted seeds of trust—and something darker—in rafe’s heart.
on a fateful mission, rafe infiltrated general rievous’s flagship to rescue chancellor palpatine, who had been “kidnapped” by the separatists. the mission was perilous, but rafe’s unparalleled determination saw them through. in the throne room of the ship, the two jedi confronted count dooku, the sith lord who had orchestrated much of the war.
lightsabers clashed in a symphony of sparks and fury, leaving rafe to face dooku alone. the duel was a blur of motion, rafe’s anger fueling his every strike. with a deft maneuver, he disarmed dooku, leaving the sith lord kneeling before him, defenseless.
“good, rafe,” palpatine said, his voice smooth and serpentine. “kill him. do it.”
he had hesitated, his lightsaber trembling in his grip. “he should stand trial,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
“trial?” palpatine scoffed. “he’s too dangerous to be kept alive. he’s the reason for this war, rafe. end it.”
dooku’s eyes widened, and for the first time, fear crossed his face. rafe looked into those eyes and saw not just an enemy, but a representation of every failure, every loss, every injustice he had endured. with a surge of anger, he ignited his blade, slashing it through dooku’s neck. the sith lord’s head fell to the floor, and with it, a piece of rafe’s soul.
the ship landed safely, and the republic hailed rafe as a hero. but his heart felt heavier than ever. he returned to you, seeking solace in the one person who could still bring him peace. you were waiting on the balcony of your apartment, the coruscant skyline glittering in the distance. the soft breeze carried the scent of the city, but it was the sight of you that arrested him. standing there, illuminated by the warm glow of the city lights, you were his sanctuary.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he approached, his voice heavy with emotion.
you turned, smiling softly. “it’s only because i’m so in love.”
he chuckled, his hands cupping your face. “no, it’s because i’m so in love with you.”
you kissed him, slow and tender, the world falling away. as you pulled back, you placed his hand gently on your abdomen. “rafe,” you began, your voice trembling with both excitement and fear, “i’m pregnant.”
his eyes widened, and for a moment, he was silent, his breath stolen by the enormity of your words. then, a brilliant smile spread across his face. “we’re going to have a child?” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. he pulled you into his arms, holding you as though he could shield you from the galaxy itself. but as joy filled his heart, so too did a seed of fear.
the dreams began soon after. dark, haunting visions of you in pain, of your life slipping away as you brought their child into the world. each night, he woke in a cold sweat, the image of your lifeless body seared into his mind. the fear of losing you consumed him, driving him to the brink of obsession.
palpatine had noticed his turmoil and offered him a glimmer of hope. he spoke of darth plagueis, a sith lord who had unlocked the secrets of life and death. “there are ways to save those you love,” palpatine hinted, his words weaving a web around rafe’s fragile resolve. but the jedi council grew wary of palpatine’s influence. they tasked rafe with spying on the chancellor, a mission that stoked the fires of his anger. how could they ask him to betray the one man who had shown him unwavering support?
when rafe discovered that palpatine was darth sidious, the sith lord orchestrating the war, his world crumbled. he reported the revelation to the jedi council but found himself at a crossroads. could he truly turn his back on the man who held the key to saving you?
master mace windu confronted palpatine, seeking to end the sith threat once and for all. but as the battle unfolded, rafe’s desperation overtook him. he intervened, aiding palpatine in the fatal blow that ended windu’s life. it was anything but a rash decision—it was crucial. as a jedi, there was nothing he could do to fight fate, nothing he could say to stop you from falling into danger. it was going to be different, now. it was going to be different, because he had found a way to keep you safe.
“you have done well, my apprentice,” palpatine said, his voice a mixture of triumph and menace. “now, take your place at my side.”
broken and consumed by his fears, rafe knelt. “what is thy bidding, my master?”
sidious’s smile was cruel. “rise, darth vader.”
the galaxy descended into darkness as order 66 was executed. the jedi were hunted and slaughtered, their light extinguished in an instant. rafe, now darth vader, led the assault on the jedi temple, his heart hardened by the promises of power and salvation sidious had whispered to him. and yet, through it all, the memory of you lingered, a fragile thread of humanity he couldn’t sever. it was that thread that brought you to mustafar, tired, weak, and helplessly in love.
it had fallen into chaos. the republic, under a beacon of hope, was now crumbling under the weight of the newly declared galactic empire. you stood in the quiet of the imperial palace, trying to come to terms with the atrocities of the past days. the news had spread quickly, but still, your mind refused to accept what it meant. the jedi were dead—or so it seemed. yet, one name haunted you more than any other.
it was then that obi-wan arrived at your side. his expression was grave, eyes filled with the weight of countless losses.
“he’s gone,” obi-wan said, his voice low and steady, tinged with sorrow. “he’s strayed from the path of righteousness. he’s fallen.”
the words struck you like a blow to the chest. you had heard rumors, whispers among the few remaining jedi, but you refused to believe them. the man you loved, who had once vowed to fight for justice, could not have fallen to the darkness. he couldn’t have turned his back on everything he believed in, on you.
“you’re wrong, obi-wan,” you said, shaking your head, refusing to accept his words. “he would never do that.”
his face hardened, a shadow of regret crossing his features. “i wish i were wrong more than anything, but the truth is undeniable. the jedi are gone. you’ve seen the clones. the children. it’s all over.”
your heart pounded in your chest as his words settled in. the republic had fallen. the jedi had been exterminated. rafe—your rafe—was lost to the darkness, and the galaxy had been consumed by the rise of the sith. yet, even as the tears welled in your eyes, there was only one thought that consumed you.
“i have to find him,” you said urgently, as if somehow your voice alone could reverse everything that had happened. “he’s not lost. i know him, i can bring him back.”
obi-wan stepped forward, his gaze softening, but there was an air of helplessness in his eyes. “it’s too late. he has already pledged himself to sidious. there’s nothing you can do.”
“no,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i refuse to believe that.”
a long silence followed before obi-wan spoke again, his voice laced with pain. "he’s on mustafar. that’s where he’s been sent. i can’t—"
"you’ll come with me?" you asked, the words more of a plea than a request.
he hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “i will go, but not as a friend. i will go to stop him. to kill him, if necessary.”
you were already making your way to the transport shuttle before obi-wan could speak again. there was no time for hesitation now. you didn’t look back as the shuttle’s doors closed. you didn’t need to. your mind was set. you would find rafe, even if you had to tear the galaxy apart to do it.
meanwhile, obi-wan, understanding your determination, had no choice but to agree to travel with you. his reasons were not for your safety or your peace of mind, but for his own sense of duty. he knew the dangers that awaited them on mustafar, and that if rafe had truly turned, he would be forced to make an impossible decision. but that was a burden he had come to terms with long ago.
the stars flew by in a blur of lights as you descended into mustafar's fiery atmosphere. the molten rivers below flickered with a sinister glow, reflecting the burning hatred you felt rising in your chest. you had already promised yourself that no matter what, you would save him.
on coruscant, deep within the confines of the senate chambers, sidious had finally achieved his ultimate goal. the galactic republic, in an instant, had been transformed into an empire. the senate, once a symbol of the people's will, now bent the knee to its new emperor. the once-liberating democracy had been replaced by an authoritarian regime. the galaxy, torn by war, now had only one ruler—the sith lord, darth sidious.
the jedi’s greatest enemy, the embodiment of their worst fears, had taken full control of the galaxy. and yet, the fight was far from over. the jedi had not given up. yoda remained, standing alone in his defiance. his presence in the senate was a signal of the final struggle. sidious’s dark eyes met yoda’s as the two old foes stood across from one another, poised for their ultimate confrontation.
���you have lost, yoda,” sidious taunted, his voice cold, laced with a sadistic satisfaction. “the republic is mine, and you are but a relic of the past. it is time for you to join your fallen brethren.”
yoda, frail but resolute, held his lightsaber in a firm grip. “too late, it is. a new order, this galaxy shall know. dark your vision, sidious. the light, it will endure.”
the two charged, clashing with an intensity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the senate. sidious’s power was unparalleled, his dark side knowledge vast. yoda, despite his age, matched him strike for strike, his wisdom and mastery of the force making him a formidable opponent. but as the battle raged on, it became clear that sidious’s hold on the galaxy had become too strong.
the clash continued, the power of the dark side and the light intertwined in a desperate struggle. sidious fought with every ounce of energy he had, but yoda’s ancient strength was waning. his spirit, though unwavering, could not match the overwhelming force that sidious had unleashed.
in the end, yoda was defeated. but not before he had forced sidious to acknowledge the true strength of the jedi—resilience, hope, and belief in the light. as sidious declared his victory, yoda, with the last of his strength, slipped away into exile. his failure was painful, but not absolute. the fire of the Jedi had been dimmed, but it had not been extinguished. the last remaining hope had fled. the galaxy was now fully under sidious’s control. and the road to mustafar, to rafe, was one you would have to walk alone.
you found him standing at the edge of a molten river, his figure silhouetted against the hellish glow of mustafar’s fiery landscape. the harsh winds blew his dark hair back, and for a moment, he looked like a vision from a nightmare, the red light casting an almost otherworldly aura around him. rafe. your rafe. but so different now.
a surge of emotions flooded your chest as you ran toward him, your heart racing, hands trembling. you couldn’t help it. you needed him. you had to make him see the light, to make him remember the man he once was. you reached him, throwing your arms around him, the warmth of his body so much like the comfort you remembered. “what are you doing out here?” he whispered, his voice shaking with fear and longing. “i was so worried about you,” you admitted.
he didn’t return the embrace, standing stiff in your arms. his cold gaze met yours as he stepped back slightly, his expression unreadable. “obi-wan told me terrible things,” you continued, your voice trembling as you held onto the last thread of hope.
“what things?” his voice was flat, emotionless, but the flicker in his eyes told you that he already knew what was coming.
you swallowed hard, unable to contain the hurt. “he said you’ve turned to the dark side. that you—killed younglings.”
for a moment, there was silence. rafe's eyes darkened, the flicker of something dangerous stirring within him. he slowly shook his head, his lips curling into a sneer. “obi-wan is trying to turn you against me,” he said, the words thick with venom. the coldness in his voice cut deeper than anything you had ever felt from him.
you shook your head, stepping closer, desperate to bridge the gap between you. “he cares about us,” you said softly, your voice cracking with emotion. “he wants to help, rafe.”
he looked at you with something unreadable in his eyes. then, his gaze hardened. “us?” he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief, as if the very idea of it was foreign to him now. “you don’t understand. you don’t know what i’ve become.”
the cold, calculating stare he gave you made your heart twist with pain. this wasn’t the man you married. you could still see glimpses of him in the shadows of his expression, but it was slowly being drowned out by the dark power he had embraced. “rafe, please,” you begged. “all i want is your love.”
“love won’t save you,” he continued, his tone unwavering, “only my new powers can do that.”
you shook your head violently, a sob catching in your throat. “at what cost?” you asked, the words thick with desperation. “you’re a good person, rafe. don’t do this. please.” you took a step forward, reaching for him, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch.
“i won’t lose you the way i lost my mother,” he said, his voice hardening with a rawness that almost sounded like grief. “i’m becoming more powerful than any jedi has ever dreamed of, and i’m doing it for you. to protect you.”
tears welled in your eyes, your heart aching as you tried to make him understand. “rafe, please,” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. “come away with me. help me raise our child. leave everything behind while we still can.” you could feel the weight of the galaxy pressing down on you, the unbearable knowledge that if you didn’t make him listen now, you might lose him forever.
his eyes hardened, the flicker of humanity in his gaze extinguished by the cold darkness that had taken root. “we don’t have to run anymore,” he said, his voice low and full of conviction. “i have brought peace to the republic. i am more powerful than the chancellor, i can overthrow him. and together, you and i can rule the galaxy.”
you stared at him, disbelief coursing through your veins. “i can’t believe this,” you whispered. “obi-wan was right.”
your words hung in the air between you, a brutal truth neither of you could escape. his anger was evident, running down the river of change that flooded his body. “i don’t want to hear any more about obi-wan,” he practically hissed. “the jedi turned against me—don’t you turn against me.”
“you’re breaking my heart, rafe,” you whispered, choking on the pain. “you’re going down a path i can’t follow.”
“because of obi-wan?”
“because of what you’ve done, what you plan to do.”
he stood there, the cruel shadows of his new self tainting the once warm look he had given you. “i love you,” you whispered through your tears, but it was hollow. the words no longer held the weight they once did, no matter how much you meant it.
rafe shook his head, his empty gaze holding onto tears that threatened to spill over. “liar!” he shouted, the anguish in his voice more than you could bear.
his face twisted into something darker, more feral. before you could even react, his hand shot out, his powers grabbing you by the throat, the force of them tightening with unnatural strength. your breath caught in your chest as the world seemed to spin around you. his eyes burned with an intensity that terrified you.
“you’re with him!” he continued, his voice colder than the darkest of nights. “you brought him here to kill me.”
your vision blurred, stars flickering at the edges of your sight as you struggled to breathe, struggling to break free from his grip. his power, his rage—it overwhelmed you. your limbs went limp, and the last thing you remembered before darkness swallowed you was the cruel look in his eyes, the man you loved no longer in control of the body he had once inhabited.
obi-wan’s voice was steady, but it trembled with the weight of years of love and friendship—of a bond that was being shattered before his very eyes. he stepped forward, his lightsaber igniting with a soft hum as it bathed the surrounding darkness in its blue glow. “let her go, rafe,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like a plea and a command all at once. “let her go.”
rafe froze for a moment, his powers tightening around your throat. his eyes flickered from you to obi-wan, the anger swirling in his gaze turning into something colder, something more dangerous. “you turned her against me!” his voice cracked, desperation slipping through his words like poison.
obi-wan’s expression hardened, but there was an undeniable sorrow in his eyes. “you have done that yourself,” he said, his words cutting deeper than any blade. he took a step closer, his lightsaber held steady, but his demeanor was not one of attack—it was one of heartbreaking disappointment.
rafe staggered back, his chest heaving as if struggling to comprehend the enormity of obi-wan’s words. “you will not take her from me,” he spat, the words thick with rage, his grip on your throat tightening further.
“you’ve already lost her,” obi-wan replied, his voice heavy with sorrow. “your anger and your lust for power have already done that.”
the words hung between them, thick and suffocating. rafe’s hands twitched, and his eyes narrowed in disbelief, as if he couldn’t fathom what he was hearing. obi-wan’s expression softened, but the sadness in his eyes deepened. “you’ve allowed this dark lord to twist your mind,” he said, his voice quiet, almost mournful. “until now. until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”
rafe’s face twisted in fury. his grip on your neck tightened, and you gasped for air, vision flickering. he looked at obi-wan as though seeing his former master for the first time—disillusionment and rage warring in his eyes. “i am becoming more powerful than you could ever understand,” he snarled. “this is the future. this is the only way.”
obi-wan took a deep breath, but the heartbreak was evident in the lines of his face. his lightsaber remained steady in his grip, though he hesitated. the moment stretched between them like a chasm that neither could bridge, the final threads of their bond fraying. his voice came again, quieter now, almost a whisper. “you were the chosen one,” he murmured, his eyes clouded with unspeakable grief. “you were supposed to bring balance to the force, not leave it in darkness.”
rafe’s expression flickered, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though something—some shred of the man he used to be—flickered behind his eyes. but then, the darkness overtook it, and with a growl of fury, he ignited his own lightsaber. the clash of their weapons was deafening, a blinding flash of light that reflected the violence inside them both.
rafe moved with a speed and power his master had never seen in him before—his strikes were wild, full of rage and desperate need to prove something. obi-wan’s movements, however, were measured, controlled—though each strike, each parry was laced with the sorrow of knowing what was slipping away.
“rafe,” obi-wan whispered, narrowly dodging a strike aimed at his head. “please, listen to me.”
but rafe only grew more erratic, more dangerous. each attack was fueled by his anger, his pain—the feeling of losing you, of losing himself. obi-wan's heart broke with each swing of his saber, each dodge, each moment that he tried to reason with the man who had once been his apprentice.
the lava pit raged behind them, bubbling and churning as if in anticipation of what was to come. obi-wan fought desperately to keep his former apprentice from falling into that abyss—not just physically, but spiritually.
but the anger in rafe’s eyes was beyond reason, beyond compassion. it was a wild thing, uncontrollable and destructive, and it fed into everything he did. with a final, powerful swing, rafe sent him tumbling backwards, his lightsaber flashing, and obi-wan, with a grace borne of years of painful experience, parried the strike.
“rafe,” obi-wan whispered, his voice filled with grief, a lump in his throat. “i loved you.”
the battle was a blur of light and movement, the two combatants circling each other, their sabers flashing in the intense heat of mustafar’s volcanoes. but it was clear that obi-wan was tiring, and rafe was only becoming more vicious, more relentless.
then, with one final strike, obi-wan moved with precision. he ducked under rafe’s wild blow and, with one swift motion, sent him tumbling toward the edge of the molten pit. time seemed to slow as rafe fell, his body twisting in midair, his scream echoing in the cavernous silence before he was consumed by the flames. obi-wan’s heart shattered in that moment. he had lost his brother. he had lost the one he had once hoped would bring balance to the force. he had failed.
“you were the chosen one,” he whispered again, the tears slipping down his face despite himself.
the hum of the ship was the only sound that filled the air as obi-wan piloted through the blackness of space, the stars too distant to offer any comfort. the journey back to the medical center felt endless. his mind raced with the weight of what had just transpired—rafe, gone. the bond he’d once shared with him severed, leaving nothing but pain and an unforgiving silence in its wake. he glanced over at you, still unconscious, your face pale and drawn, your breath shallow as if it were an effort to even draw air into your lungs.
his heart ached, a new, deeper kind of grief taking root within him. he had failed you, failed rafe, and failed himself. there was nothing left but this mission—this final task—to get you to safety. the fate of the galaxy weighed heavily on his shoulders, but in this moment, all that mattered was you.
as they neared the medical center, obi-wan’s grip tightened on the ship’s controls. he landed with a jolt, immediately springing into action as he rushed to carry you inside. the doors slid open, revealing the medical droids awaiting your arrival. they took you from his arms, quickly transferring you to a bed where they began monitoring your vitals. the air was thick with the metallic hum of their mechanical voices.
“medically, she’s completely healthy,” one of the droids reported, its mechanical voice eerily detached. “but we are losing her for reasons we can’t explain.”
obi-wan froze, his chest tightening. “losing her?” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, strained with disbelief.
“she has lost the will to live,” the droid replied, its tone clinical. “it is remarkable. her body functions, but mentally, emotionally, she has abandoned everything.”
obi-wan’s heart stuttered, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. “she’s dying?” he asked, the words escaping him in a rush.
“she has given up, master jedi. she seeks peace, and her soul has begun to depart.”
obi-wan stared at you, his eyes wide and filled with unspeakable grief. he had seen death in all its forms before, but this—this was something different. you were alive, but you were gone. you had chosen to retreat from the world, to leave everything behind. his throat tightened, and he had to look away, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
somewhere, deep within you, in the fragile place between life and death, your mind reached for something, a warmth that beckoned you. you could still think, your blood could still flow, your lungs still moved—yet there was nothing left. your heart had stopped long before your body did. it had broken.
what was the point of continuing when the very core of you had shattered? there was no peace in this world anymore, no reason to go on when everything you had fought for felt so fleeting. so, you reached for the light—the peace that called to you, beckoning you like a familiar voice. your body might have stayed behind, but your soul had made its decision.
the sharp, sudden pain broke through your thoughts, making you gasp. you could feel it, sharp and intense—the pull of life, the unbearable weight of it. and then the scream tore from your throat, raw and desperate, as the first of your children entered the world.
obi-wan’s hands shook as he held your son. the small, fragile form, covered in fluid, squirmed in his arms, its cries piercing the sterile air. he looked down at the child with a look of overwhelming sadness and tenderness, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. he thought of rafe, of everything that had been lost, of the galaxy that had slipped into darkness—and now, this child, a new life, a new hope in a world drowning in despair.
he stood there, trembling, as the second child was born—a girl. he took her in his arms as well, gazing down at her with the same awe and sorrow, knowing the weight they would one day bear. you lay there, exhausted, broken, your breath coming in shallow gasps.
through the haze of pain, through the darkness that seemed to be pulling you under, you whispered. “there’s good in him,” it was barely audible. “i know there is—still—”
obi-wan’s heart clenched at the words, his chest tightening with the love you had for the man who had fallen. he looked down at the twins, the hope in your voice echoing in his heart, though it was bittersweet. he believed it, too. somewhere within rafe, there had still been light, still been love. and maybe, just maybe, it would survive within these children.
the monitors beside you beeped erratically, the sound cutting through the quiet. obi-wan turned his gaze to the screen, his heart sinking as he saw the monitor flicker and die. he didn’t need to look again to know. you had passed. but before the life left your body entirely, you bore the gift of new life. the crying of the twins filled the room, and obi-wan stood motionless, cradling them, his eyes full of tears as he watched you—his heart torn between mourning your loss and marveling at the life you had given.
the quiet finality of it settled over him like a heavy weight. the galaxy was no longer the same. the battle for it was far from over, but in that moment, in the silence that followed, he felt the heavy burden of a different kind of loss—the loss of you, the woman he had come to see as a light in a dying world. and as your soul reached for peace, the children you had given birth to would carry on the hope you had always believed in. the cycle would continue, even if the galaxy seemed lost.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
a/n: writing this like the ending was gonna change or sum 😭😭😭 gtfo
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ancienttheblackangel · 2 years ago
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ANCIENTTHEBLACKANGEL Black Star Command Decree @ancienttheblackangel
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