#I don’t think I’ve ever actually been alive for a revan clear

[vespertine-legacy]

got another Revanchist under my belt

[crqstalite]

A YEAR IN REVIEW: 2019.

Oh wow it’s two hours to midnight. I’m about to enter my fifteenth year of existence and second decade turn I’ve been alive to witness. Guess it’s time for my first annual year in review of fanfiction <3

WORD COUNT:

This year in total I wrote 150,065 words! Not even including the fanfictions I wrote for other fandoms throughout the year. This was all in a few months too. Damn, can’t wait to see where 2020 takes me if this is my writing prowess now.

The Breakdown:

Bloodlines took the cake at 71,593 words. Makes sense, I wrote that first and actually had it going a bit before I got the idea for Shadow of the Sith. It’s not obsolete just yet, but is currently on hiatus. Still one of my most written for projects. Means I’d been working on that since August. Startinglingly, the latest chapter was in October. That means that whole endeavor took two months to write 71.5k.

Shadow of the Sith is close behind at 47,995 words. With how I went from writing 2k word chapters to the latest being 7k words, it’s valid how the number jumps so much chapter-to-chapter. This one I’ve been working on since early November, and the most recent one was added today. That’s a month and some days worth of writing 48k words guys :0.

The Heritage prompts roll in at 15,657 words. I posted rather sporadically for this because most ended up being abandoned oneshots while I worked on Bloodlines and later, Shadow of the Sith. Still, it’s nothing to sneeze at and I’m rather proud of the work I put in.

The Made of Star Dust universe is at a haughty 11,777. Given this was written long before I’d even gotten the privelege to play Shadow of Revan, so some stuff is inaccurate but other than that a very ambitious project that I intend to pick up at some point. For now, it remains on hiatus.

The oneshots round us out at 3,043. This includes Hierarchy for the time being because it consists of a Khaak/Lana oneshot and that’s it. Not disappointed here, and I’m rather happy it even reached that. 

NEW THINGS I TRIED.

I tried Star Wars the Old Republic out again, and obviously I flourished here. The community is so kind and compassionate, not to mention inspiring. I tried out the Jedi Consular storyline, fell asleep halfway through, and then my Consular was the Barsen’thor.

Oh you mean writing wise.

I definitely extended my writing. My word counts shot up this year from 500 words in 2018 to 8k words just a week or so ago. I’ve improved my storytelling to include characters and personalities I’ve never encompassed before. Took my hand at writing more romance, and successfully.

I visited the TrollHunters fandom for a period of time and rather enjoyed it, I have one 8k fic going on it’s fourth month on hiatus on my AO3 page. I joined my first actual hate for a show and that materialized in Voltron: Legendary Defender.

I joined AO3. Didn’t find immediate success but I found some of my favorite authors there. My account is here: euphoria_starrs.

I joined tumblr for the first time. Had never experienced it before but now it’s my main media. Other than the problematic side of tumblr, I like the people here.

FAVORITE THING I WROTE THIS YEAR.

Definitely Shadow of the Sith. I accomplished so much with it already and it’s not even near done but people enjoy it, and it’s been one of the biggest succesful endeavors I’ve ever done. Thanks for taking time to read it guys <3

FAVORITE FIC I READ THIS YEAR.

*Takes a deep breath* Well here we go I guess.

@cavalier-life‘s Collateral Damages. It’s so artfully written, and for a ship I definitely didn’t think I’d grow to love as much as I do now. The characterization is beautiful, and the conflicts are real and believable. I adore Selirah with my whole heart, thank so much for writing it! Have definitely binged chapters repeatedly until the words are swimming on the page at two in the morning.

@cinlat‘s...whole library. Particularily Howl In the Night (I intend to get to reading Heart on a Trigger, just haven’t had the time yet) because of the untouched territory it delves into. I love the way you handled the story, and it’s truly heartbreaking at the end. Your oneshots are to die for as well. But Our Own pulled at my heartstrings. I’d lie if I didn’t say I was rooting for Nahir the whole time.

@melissagt‘s Not Afraid Anymore. I think I already commented on it but I’ll do it again. Yet another ship I didn’t think I’d sail but as I got deeper and deeper into Andronikos, Theron and Lelu’s relationship I just let the sail go. I love the story and how they get accustomed to each other and just how gritty it is. I definitely stayed up late at night to finish reading it.

@lumielles​‘s Guilt By Association, Outlander Day and Need a Minute. I haven’t had the time to read much more of Idan’s story, but Aramys and Theron break my heart with every oneshot and story of yours I read. I love it because it’s so tasteful, and absolutely bittersweet at the best of times. I look forward to learning more about this family :)

@greencrusader13​‘s All Were Innocent Once. I adore this story because it was one of the first ones I read in the fandom, and it was beautiful. Cirak and Tyar are such three-dimensional characters, and I can’t wait to learn more about the others present. 

Any others I found but for those who don’t have tumblr accounts can be found on my Fic Recs Page. Flirting With Desire (Sirius Ordo), and Someone To Fight For (Bamfbugboy) always tear at my heartstrings whenever I read them. If ya’ll like to cry, here they are.

WRITING GOALS FOR 2020.

1. Definitely finish Shadow of the Sith. Mellena and Theron’s story desperately needs to be told, and I will go down with this ship! There are a bunch of other characters worthy of their chapters in here as well, and I really want to write for Knights. Just have to get through Shadow of Revan and Ziost and we’re in the clear.

2. Start Shan. You guys are so infatuated with this post that I figure it deserves to be written. I was going to anyways, but goddamn ya’ll are still reposting it so I’ll see if I can do the plot justice. Currently, the PC is a sith inquisitor named Liv but that could change soon.

3. Finish Bloodlines? I’m not sure if anyone’s particularily enjoying it, but I started it so I’ll finish it. I think. Maybe.

4. Start love interest specific stories. I tend to meander into whole stories of a bunch of OCs and their love interests (see: Bloodlines/Shadow of the Sith), but in 2020 I think I’ll try to appeal to smaller fanbases with certain stories. I’m looking at writing a Mandalorian-centric Ba’shira/Torian fic, a slight rewrite of the Trooper story for Hakiojkl/Aric, a Sith-centric one for Lana/Khaak, a shorter one for a currently unnamed female Sith Warrior/Pierce, shorter one for a currently unnamed female Sith Inquisitor/Andronikos, short one for Bisauur/Zenith and a short one for Naji/Felix. Maybe one for Koth, but goddamn there isn’t a signal fic I can find on him.

5. Write Bad Girls Club. I don’t know why I made this a thing, but goddamn it’s a thing now and I love it. Kind of love the idea of some younger female bounty hunters running around the galaxy and causing chaos.

6. Possibly write a Theron/Outlander/Lana story. Why? I’m not sure but no one has done it yet and with the chemistry Theron and Lana have in-game already plus the chemistry they have as friends if you romance them can’t be easily passed up. Not high on my list of priorities, but it shall be done.

WORD OF THANKS.

My thanks goes out to this list of wonderful people:

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond​, @greencrusader13​, @oakstar519​, @a-muirehen​, @shabre-legacy​, @starstrucknerdbatkid​, @swtorpadawan​, @elaphaemourra​, @theherooftython​, @anchanted-one​, @sheyshen​, @roguescarlett​, @insufficient-focus​, Dragonheart on Discord, Sidhe Vicious and Necril on Discord!! You guys are so great for believing in little 14 year old me and taking a chance on roleplaying with me and reading my fics. You’re so appreciated <3

HAPPY NEW YEAR, AND GOOD LUCK ON YOUR NEW ENDEAVORS!

[thehollowprince]

I will maintain til my dying breath that Rey was supposed to be Luke's daughter, and the sequel trilogy would have been about two cousins fighting over the Skywalker legacy (she wouldn't have been able to be his sister a la Jacen and Jaina. Ben and Han and Leia would have known her immediately, but her being his cousin would have made them not really knowing her but knowing her make sense) Hell the script sets it up with Luke, knowing who she is (so say her mother/ Luke's SO took her away - 1/?

her way from the Jedi Temple because she feared Ben, and then something happened, and she was killed on Jakku, and like her death hit something Luke in a force wave and that’s why he can’t sense Rey is his daughter or whatever - look I reject the Sequel trilogy and replace it with my head canon okay?- all the callbacks: including the way Rey resembles Padme, Leia and Shmi- would have made sense. Her being a Palpatine doesn’t. But when Rian made her a “nobody” and stared pushing Reylo and 2/? all the mainstream commentators started talking about their connection ( isn’t it interesting they ignore that Finn was set up as Rey’s love interest? I wonder why),it does feel like J.J was forced into a corner, and this was the mess he came up with, cause I don’t know how he could have fixed the mess that TLJ was

Sorry I didn’t answer this right away.  I got these at the end of my night shift and I wanted to be rested and awake before I answered it.  With that, let’s get to it.

The problem with Disney’s acquisition of Lucasfilm back in 2012 was first and foremost the fact that they completely disregarded and dismissed the thirty plus years of extra material they had in the form of books, comics, television shows and video games.  We had so much material to draw from for this sequel trilogy - George Lucas was even still alive so they could have consulted him on any kind of plan he had for his supposed nine film arc.

Even if we were to just focus on the material we got post-RoTJ, we still have so much to draw from.  As you mentioned, Jacen and Jaina Solo, or Luke’s relationship with with Mara Jade, Jacen’s fall to the dark side, the Yuuzhan Vong war or even venturing further into the future to look at the rise of the One Sith, and dealing with Cade Skywalker’s flirtation with the dark side.

The fact that Disney discarded all of this and then cherry-picked from it to Frankenstein together some of these characters for the sequel trilogy.

For example, and as you and many others have pointed out since The Force Awakens, Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is just a cheap version of Jacen Solo from the Expanded Universe/Legends continuity, with some added elements of Darth Revan from the Knights of the Old Republic and a hint of Cade Skywalker from the Legacy Era, particularly this last little bit involving Force Healing at the eleventh hour.  And in a similar vein, Rey is based off of Jaina… to an extent.

I don’t think their intention was ever quite so simple as a copy-and-paste by taking those two characters and making them the center of this new trilogy.  If anything, watching this new trilogy, it’s very clear that they never had any plan for all three films.  Disney went into this knowing they were going to be producing a trilogy, but approached it more like the original, on a movie-to-movie basis, pretending that they weren’t going to move forward unless the first one (TFA) was a success, which as we all know is bullshit.  They ended that movie on a cliffhanger with the company announcing the Episode VIII before Episode VII even aired.  So, while I believe that maybe someone on the production team, maybe J.J. or Kennedy or someone else high up came up with these characters that were mosaics of their Legends characters, that was only for that first movie.  Then Rian did what he wanted with them, until we got to this last film where they were their own “fleshed-out” characters, while still relying heavily upon the original source material.

Personally, I would have loved for Rey to have been Luke’s daughter, though I don’t think Disney ever would have gone the route of your theory.  If there’s one thing we’ve learned from them since they took over all of these big franchises, its that they don’t care to put much thought or effort into it.  Everything is the cheapest and laziest writing possible, taking the quickest and easiest path to the end without putting any actual thought into it, just imagining all the zeros on the check they’re trying to get.

Having her and Kylo/Ben be cousins would have nicely mirrored the original franchise where the father and son (Vader and Luke) were both trying to turn the other to their side.  That would have been a nice parallel for these films, given how much they went out of their way to make these new characters being just copies of the originals.  Kylo was obviously supposed to be Vadar, with Rey being Luke, Poe being Leia, Finn being Han, BB8 being R2, Hux as Tarkin, etc.  It was fairly evident that not a lot of effort was put into this series aside from an effort to grab money.

Even the big reveal that Rey was a Palpatine was cheap and lazy, an attempt to walk back The Last Jedi, but still give those loud and annoyingly persistent Reylos what they wanted, even if only the briefest of moments.  Although J.J. coming out later and saying the kiss was like that between siblings was weird and I’m begging him to shut up.

At the end of the day, all we can do is either accept this steaming pile of garbage as canon, or rely entirely on our own headcanons.  Despite how lazy Disney and Lucasfilm was when it came to the creation of these new characters, I, like many others, latched onto them.  I connected with them and I’ve decided to completely ignore what I don’t like about canon, something I do quite a lot anymore in this era of “subverting expectations”, and just use them how I want.  In my headcanon, Luke didn’t give up and become a Space Hobo like Rian made him.  Finn was the protagonist along with Rey, as well as being in a relationship with Poe.  Rose had a prominent role in the story and Kylo died unredeemed.  I’m planning on doing what I started to do with the MCU’s Civil War and I’m going to try and fix it to match what I feel like it should have been originally.

[honekitteh]

FIC: Countdown - Chapter 1

Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T (this chapter) Genre:  Angst, H/C, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor Synopsis: A distress call leads the Jedi Battlemaster to Ziost, but time is running out.  Follows the storyline of The Rise of the Emperor and inserts missing scenes.   Author's Notes: First installment of an actual chaptered fic in this fandom. Hopefully there will be more in the future.   Warnings: Future chapters will raise the rating to M/E.

Crossposted to AO3

How did I get to this point?  That is an excellent question.  One would expect the so-called Hero of Tython to have a far more heroic introduction.  Jump in to save the day.  Say something suave or clever.  Jyana Kai, the “famous” Jedi Battlemaster who was reported to have killed the Sith Emperor would be able to jump into the fray and defeat anything.

Sure, you would think that.

Instead I was standing underneath a domed barrier with SIS Agent Theron Shan, just waiting.  My bruises had bruises; my mental defenses were on high guard.  He didn’t look too much better but calling down Archiban Frodrick “Doc” Kimble, the most humble doctor I’ve ever known, from the orbital station was out of the question.  

He straightened up after ensuring the shield was properly set and looked to me.  “Okay.  We should wait until they’re good and close.”   

I closed my eyes briefly, allowing my senses to reach out to get a good feel for how much time we had.  It wasn’t much.  I moved slightly closer to Theron and said softly, “I wasn’t sure when I’d run into you again.  Not the greatest circumstances, but still.”  I very nearly reached to him but halted myself with a small glance behind me.  It wasn’t my fellow Jedi and closest friend Kira Carsen though that I sensed when I could feel we weren’t alone.

He offered a weak but knowing smile.  “Maybe next time the lives of an entire world won’t be in danger – but, yeah, feeling’s mutual.”  

I felt my heart flip flop a bit at his smile and met his with my own.  Soon though, I could feel them.  His amber eyes shifted from mine to behind me.  Closing my eyes for a brief moment, I took a deep breath, then reopened them to follow his gaze.  Kira had already drawn her dual-saber, its green light reflecting against the metallic floor.

Theron pulled out his data pad and started tapping. “Okay, here comes the puppet brigade.  Fingers crossed…”

It was a fairly sizeable group, Imperials, Republic troops, and even some Jedi.  I silently cursed the Chancellor and added it to the growing list of matters I will add to a report, should I bother to file one.  At this particular moment, the choice words I had planning were significantly less Jedi than they had been the beginning of this entire fiasco.  The horde moved closer and Theron triggered the device.

That Theron even had to modify it to be non-lethal was not lost on me.  As I saw the soldiers all be stunned and fall to the ground, I could not help but wonder what the result would have been had that modification not been made.  The Empire, putting a weapon in one of its capital cities with the capability to kill a vast amount of their own citizens?  If they had one of these in New Adasta, they could have it on Kass City, or in a number of other cities.  But why?  Because of riots?  Gee, I wonder why anyone would riot against a ruling body that had no regard for their lives.

My eyes glanced over to a Republic soldier that had collapsed.  Were we even better?  The Republic should be better than this.  Theron followed my eyes and let the shield dome collapse.  He approached the soldier and knelt.  “This one was closet, took the biggest hit.”  He reached for his neck, checking his pulse as I walked up beside him.  I looked out towards the door and across the landscape of unconscious bodies.  “Still alive,” Theron confirmed, relief in his voice, “We did it!  Let’s just hope we got all of them.”

“Let’s hope,” I murmured, still scanning the surroundings.  Something still felt off.  This moment was far from over, I could feel it.

“We should call Lana now, see if she has a plan for what’s next.”

The bodies began to float in the air.  “I have a better idea,” a booming male imperial voice spoke through a woman sauntering onto the platform.  With a small flick of a hand motion, the bodies crashed back away from her, clearing a path.  Her eyes yellow and wild, she smirked as she drew her lightsaber.

“Master Surro.”  Theron’s entire stance sunk and he moved to stand between me and the unconscious puppet army and the approaching Jedi Master.  “No...”  I lightly reached an arm to his shoulder, trying to pull him back and shift him behind me, but he stood his ground.

“Watching you believe you had a chance; it’s amused me.”   Master Surro raised her hand sluggishly as if it were pulled by string, the Force lifting a dazed Imperial lieutenant into a sitting position. “Now this whole charade is pathetic.”

I shifted my own position, trying to assess the situation and moved in front of Theron.  Not soon enough, as Master Surro summarily executed the dazed man she’d just set up.  The range of emotions in the man beside me went from shock, to horror, to anger.  It took a great deal of my own willpower and Force meditation to not absorb Theron’s pain and have it fuel me and complement the dread that I felt; the very dread I’ve been feeling rising since the moment I’d received his distress holo.

Master Surro’s lips turned in a cruel sneer.  “Now, how do you wish to die?  In combat or on your knees?”

Lana Beniko, Sith Lord and Director of Sith Intelligence, raced from within the building, lightsaber drawn and poised to attack.

“Go away, little Sith.”  Master Surro easily shoved the approaching Sith Lord with a shove.  Theron moved in front of me again and drew his weapon but was immediately lifted in the air.  He gave me a wincing glance before he was unceremoniously thrown against the wall and crashed the ground.  I looked between Lana and Theron and took the last reserves of my energy to take a deep breath. 

Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

Glancing back to Master Surro, I furrowed my brow and drew both my shoto.  The Emperor controlled puppet smirked.  “This has nothing to do with your friends.  This is you and I.”

Igniting my sabers, I leaped into the air.

So how did I get to this point?  I guess I could start from the beginning…

At some point in my early life, I was brought to Hasshimut to take up training to be a Jedi.  I have no recollection of much before this point, no memory of a mother or a father.  The Jedi didn’t see a need to enlighten me and eventually I never truly thought to ask.  Perhaps that was a mistake looking back.

But I digress.  While that may be the beginning of my story, it is not the beginning of this particular story.

Approximately a year or so ago I became more than what was called the Hero of Tython.  I was now the Battlemaster, a reward for helping bring together both Empire and Republic to defeat Revan and to attempt to stop Vitiate from regaining power.  The latter failed however, and a team had been put together to continue trying to find out where he’d gone. 

 “I’ll get the shuttle started,” Kira stated and walked towards the shuttles at the edge of the camp.

Not a second later, I felt another hand brush mine, startling me out of my thoughts and I turned around.  “Theron?”

Theron Shan smiled a bit awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. “Jedi Battlemaster, huh?”

I shuffled my feet and looked down.  “Yeah, that surprised me too.”

“I suppose we’re both going to be pretty busy.”

“Guess so…” I looked back over the ridge across the lush green jungle moonscape of Yavin IV.  I took a deep breath as the wind blew through my hair.

“So Jy… I guess this is...”

I spun quickly and grabbed his neck and pulled him down into a kiss.  He startled, but then opened his mouth and met my tongue with his own. He wrapped his arms around me, one of his hands lowering to my waist, palm spread out slightly as one of his fingers slightly hooked underneath my belt.  A flash of memory of this morning where a very similar kiss led into a shuttle caused my cheeks to heat up slightly.  Slowly easing myself out of the thought, on how much I wanted to get lost in his arms again, I lowered my hands to rest on his chest and pulled out of the kiss, both of us breathless.  I attempted to play it cool as I said, “Don’t be a stranger, Agent Shan.”

He smiled softly and his eyes seemed to twinkle as he leaned his head against mine.  He traced his fingers against my cheek and whispered softly, “I won’t.”

I slowly opened my eyes and wondered when I’d drifted off.  The pilot chair wasn’t the most comfortable place to nap, but I supposed I was tired.  Pinching the bridge of my nose I leaned back in the seat and sorted through my thoughts.  The Defender was quiet as it usually was when I opted to take the night shift.  No bickering over space or Doc being a bit confused why he was suddenly thinking of all his old ex-girlfriends.  I usually used this time to meditate.

Or accidentally fall asleep and dream about...

It’d been months without a holo.  Just a small message about actually having caf with his mother.  That’s progress though, so I don’t begrudge him that.  It’s not like I’d entirely made a lot of time to reach out either, so I couldn’t pin it all on him.  Flying from planet to planet, seeing where I can lend my hand with the war effort or even some of the little things like Master Orgus reminded me, didn’t always lend me a lot of time to go to Carrick Station or Coruscant just to see what a good-looking SIS Agent was up to.

The planet I was in orbit of wasn’t extremely remarkable, though that was from the eyes of someone who had been staring at it for the last five days.  It was an unnamed Jovian type gas giant, swirling with green and teal colors of gas.  It had two ringed belts, one full of asteroids and the other vibrant and as colorful as the world surrounding it.  The two rings intersected in an X shape. 

There has been a mine there within the asteroid belt, though it had been long abandoned many years ago.  There were some fairly rare minerals that had been mined from within the asteroids and within the gas giant itself.  There were numerous reports of a space whale like creature called Purrgils that frequented this system as well.  Those creatures were apparently fairly notorious for knocking spacers out of hyperspace so I had to fly carefully in this region.  I vaguely recalled images of them, which reminded me of something I used to dream of as a child.  The dreams didn’t make them out to be a menace, but no one ever said spacers told accurate tales.

The Council wanted me to send a few probes within the system to assess its strategic worth.  An odd task for the Jedi Battlemaster I thought.  I’m a Jedi, not a Scientist.  I solved problems easier with a lightsaber.  But I could sense there was definitely more within this system than just a simple mineral assessment.  Though this seemed it would have been better to just send an actual expert in this field.  Everything I found I just forwarded to Barsen’thor Sheridan to show to her scientist companion, Tharan Cedrix.

I thought I caught a blip of a lifesign flying into the gas giant when suddenly, a holo comm started breaking through.  Staticky at first, I fiddled with the settings.

“--repeat: Repubic call sign Aurek Nen—hey! Finally!”

It felt like time stopped.  I was walking through a desolated world: buildings, ground, even the sun all washed out in shades of brown and grey.  My own bright white clothing, faded with the terrain.  As soon as the vision hit, it was over, and I heard Theron’s voice trying to get my attention.

Snapping out of it, I took a quick breath and quickly responded, “Theron. Are you all right?”

His voice came across frantic.  “That would be a negative, Master Jedi! I’m in Imperial space, over Ziost.  Tried to slip in, help out my ground team, but I used the wrong set of clearance codes and shields are low!”

I furrowed my brow slightly but tried to keep mostly calm. “Focus on getting yourself to safety, then we’ll talk. “

“No, you really need to hear what I have to say. I was getting reports: demented soldiers; slave and civilian populations under fire. Had suspicions of what it meant, but I wasn’t sure.”  My heart sunk even lower as he continued speaking.  “I sent a team in dark to investigate, maybe handle it, but it’s all gone out of control now. I think it’s him. The Emperor.”

“I’m supposed to be the first one you contact when it comes to him, not your last resort,” I snapped.

“I should have said something—I know.”

I closed my eyes briefly to try to settle my own racing heartbeat.

He continued, “Sending through the right set of clearance codes along with the coordinates to meet my-- “ There was a loud explosion and he lost balance as his ship rattled.  “I’m hit! Going to try to land this thing! Don’t come looking for me, I’ll—”

“Theron? Theron, come in!”  I frantically tried to get the signal back.  When that didn’t work, I just mashed the buttons on console and the Defender quickly jumped into hyperspace.

[ladyrevanhalin]

TWISTED MORALITY (PART III of ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW) CHAPTER THREE: SEEKING SHELTER FROM THE STORM (PREVIEW SECTION 8 OF 16)

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a preview section from an incomplete Chapter. You can read everything up to this point on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538378/chapters/52449547 )

><><><><><

CARTH ONASI

The Taris Upper City Cantina was a rather large and bustling place, yet with a certain amount of sophistication to it when compared to your average, every-day cantina. There were members clearly of the Tarisian noble class hanging about, and a private lounge just for patrons of this status. There was a high stakes pazaak table near the entrance that Carth and Gwen passed on their way to the central bar. The two took a seat and ordered.

It had been a bit unnerving coming there. After all, they’d passed several Sith Troopers patrolling the streets, and one had even been standing guard posted at the front entrance of the cantina. It would be impossible for them to avoid the Sith entirely on this planet. They would just have to try to do what they could to keep their low profile until they could find Bastila and secure passage off of this Sith-controlled planet.

Carth took a sip of the Tarisian ale he’d ordered when the bartender brought it to him. A wave of expressions streamed over his face upon the initial entry on the palate, and he finished his first sip gritting his teeth. It was far stronger than he’d expected. He’d not had time to try the stuff last time he was on Taris. After all, it was during the previous war, and the Republic forces had only just recaptured the planet from Mandalorian control. As he was fleet, he wasn’t ever groundside for very long. Most of that work had been led by the Jedi.

He shook his head and took another sip at that thought. It was ironic, really. Once upon a time, the Jedi Revan’s forces had taken back Taris from the Mandalorians and saved the planet. And now, the very Jedi who had aided them before had conquered the planet once more. Only this time, it was in the name of the Sith. And they hadn’t really ‘conquered,’ no…. The Tarisian upper class had never forgotten Revan’s aid in the Mandalorian Wars, and when Revan and Malak had returned to conquer the Republic, the nobles of Taris had submitted willingly. Now, it was quite clear from what he’d seen so far that the majority of Taris’ citizens didn’t agree with the decision, but the class system of Taris had created a society in which the few voices of the rich outweigh the voices of the masses.

He glanced over at Gwen, who was seated on the stool beside him at the bar with her head propped on her up by her hand with an elbow on the counter, while the fingers of her opposite hand tapped impatiently in sequence as she waited on her food. There was a glass of some sort of nectar in front of her. Carth had discouraged his companion from stronger beverages, given the fact that she was still recovering, and had eventually succeeded in having her agree despite her initial reluctance.

He was enjoying his ale and trying to block out the tapping when he suddenly heard Gwen’s voice. “So is now a better time to get to know a little more about you, Carth?”

He set his drink down and turned more directly toward her this time. Her finger tapping had stopped and her brows raised as she looked him dead in the eye with some degree of expectancy which told Carth she wasn’t going to let him ignore her request. He sighed a little before responding to her. 

“Well, I've been a star-pilot for the Republic for years. I've seen more than my share of wars… I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. But with all that, I've never experienced anything like the slaughter these Sith animals can unleash. Not even the Mandalorians were that senseless.” Carth swallowed. He’d seen far too many images that haunted his mind still from his experiences in the war. Avoiding discussion let him push them back but that wasn’t really an option in the current situation. He couldn’t fault Gwen for wanting to know a little about him. After all, it was just the two of them stuck there until they could locate Bastila. This meant, however, that he’d need to tread his own memories with a degree of caution. He continued. “My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Malak's fleet. The Sith bombed it into submission, and there wasn't a damned thing our Republic forces could do to stop them!”

“Calm down. I was just asking. Geesh…”

He blinked a moment, then realized his hand was clenched into a fist so tightly that his knuckles had begun to go white. He relaxed his hand, flexing his fingers a little in retraction. “You're the one who wanted to know more about me,” he said, attempting to keep a cool air about him. “Well this is it, this is what I am. I'm just a soldier; I go where the fleet Admirals tell me to. I follow my orders and I do my duty.”

“Yeah, well you're talking like it's your fault about the war and your planet. Like you failed somehow….”

“It shouldn't be my fault. I did everything I could… I followed my orders and did my duty. That shouldn't mean I failed them! I didn't!” His voice was betraying him. It had grown more seeped with emotions. He could still see the glow of embers that charred the surface of Telos after the Sith attack. The dead and dying were all around, friends and loved ones among them. Innocents dying there in the streets. He could still hear their voices, their screams, their cries for help…

‘Someone get a medic over here now! Please! She’s still alive! A medic! It’s not too late to save her. It’s not too late…’

“Hey, why are you getting so mad at me? It's not like this was my fault!”

Gwen’s voice brought him back away from Telos’ surface and to that posh little Tarisian cantina where they were seated. Her good seemed to have arrived while he had been talking, but she’d not started eating yet. Instead, she was looking at him with what appeared to be concern.

“I know that,” I know that he said, hoping to dissuade any impressions he might have given of blaming her for what was, but shouldn’t have been, his own failure. “I'm not angry at you… don't think that. I…. I just…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “ I'm sorry. I'm not making much sense, am I?” He shook his head. “ Look, you probably mean well with your questions. I'm just not accustomed to talking about my past very much. At all, actually. I'm more used to taking action… keeping my mind focused on the business at hand. So let's just do that. If you have more questions, ask them later.”

“Right,” Gwen said, turning her attention instead to her meal. Carth picked up his mug again and took another sip of ale, desperately trying to push aside the memories that threatened to spring forth through his own emotional blocks. Now wasn’t the time to think of Telos. He had to focus on their mission to find Bastila so that the Sith could be stopped and an end could be brought to this war. Failure wasn’t an option this time. He had to go through with this, if it was the last thing he did….

“I'm sorry, Carth…”

He paused, but he did not look at his companion as she spoke. He was in no mood for such.

“....It must have been a very painful experience for you,” Gwen finished saying.

“Yeah, well, I’ve just made it a point to not let that sort of thing happen again,” Carth said. He debated, for a brief moment, chugging the rest of his ale, but decided against such. After all, if he finished too soon, he’d have nothing to do while his companion ate, and might get lassoed back into another conversation. Additionally, with how strong Tarisian ale was, he wasn’t certain it would be the smartest move for him to be able to remain at optimum functionality during their first outing on Taris. They needed information on those crashed escape pods still, and the cantina, even with the number of patrons it had seemed blissfully free of Sith presence inside of its doors. Here, it would likely be relatively safe for them to conduct their questioning of the locals on the matter.

Carth paced himself with the ale until he saw Gwen was close to finishing her meal, and then signaled the waiter to bring them their checks. Once they had paid, Carth rose from the barstool where he had been seated and stretched a little. “Well, I guess it’s back to business,” he said. “Feeling better now?” he asked.

Gwen nodded, rising also. “Much,” she replied. “Sorry if I came off a bit… ungrateful.”

Carth had to hold back a snort, but apparently his thoughts had still manifested themselves at least partially in his facial expressions, because his companion shot him a leer all the same. He coughed in an attempt to excuse himself, which only caused her to roll her eyes. “N-no,” Carth insisted with a chuckle, putting his hands up to indicate he meant no offense. “Not ungrateful… I suppose I’d be a bit grumpy first waking up out of a three-day near coma too…”

He looked at her, plastering on an uneasy smile, but her expression remained hard and relatively unchanging. She held his eyes, staring at him for a moment before her lips twisted into a suppressed smile and she snorted back a laugh of her own. While it did male Carth feel much more at ease, he couldn’t help but to wonder what was going on in that head of hers. He still wasn’t fully convinced of the physician Zelka’s assessment of her.

He contemplated commenting on her odd behavior before a commotion caught both of their attentions as a large number of patrons began flocking toward the viewscreens lining the walls of the cantina.

“Hurry!” they heard someone say. “The match is about to start.”

“What’s the point?” came another patron’s voice. “It’s only Gerlon and Duncan again. 

Curiosity about the commotion for the upcoming ‘match’ drew both Carth and Gwen to join the other patrons watching the viewscreen in the cantina.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came an announcer’s voice. “I draw your attention to the dueling ring. Here, two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now, I hope all your bets are down, because we're ready to roll! In this corner, I give you... Gerlon Two-Fingers! And over here, looking to climb the ranks yet again is the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan!”

On the view screen, there were two men standing on opposite ends of a large circular arena. When the camera zoomed in on the combatants, the younger of the two appeared to be missing fingers on his right hand (Carth could only assume that this was ‘Gerlon Two-Fingers’) and the other a bit older, as his hair was greying. Reason would venture to assume that the older man was the one whom the announcer had referred to as ‘Deadeye Duncan.’ Both men were armed with blasters, hands at rest, waiting for the signal for the dual to begin.

A sound flared, signaling for the duel to begin. However, it came so suddenly that it seemed to startle ‘Deadeye’ enough that he dropped his blaster. As he reached down to pick it up, ‘Two-Fingers’ was already firing and hit him, causing Deadeye to fall. And just like that, as suddenly as the match had started, it was all over.

The announcer’s voice sounded again. “And, to nobody's great surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don't worry, folks – he's just unconscious. As usual. Our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn't it? So I give you the winner... Gerlon Two-Fingers!”

People had already begun clearing from the viewscreen area before the announcer had even begun his concluding statements. It seemed from the crowd’s reactions that the outcome was already expected to turn out the way it had.

Carth reached to touch Gwen’s arm to indicate they should start their rounds of questioning, but stopped short. He recalled her reaction to when he’d done similar during their visit to the clinic, and thought perhaps he’d better not. Instead, he called her name. “Gwen? Gwen, we should get going. We have a lot to do still.”

Gwen, who had seemed to be wrapped up in watching the medics as they removed Deadeye Duncan from the arena, turned to look at him. “Hmm? Oh…. I guess you’re right. Where do you think we should start? Won’t it sound suspicious if we just go around asking anyone about the escape pods?”

She did make an excellent point. Sith presence or not, they would need to be cautious. After all, it would be foolish to assume that all Tarisian’s loyalies lied with the Republic. He’s learned that the hard way….

“We keep it casual,” Carth said decisively. “If anyone asks, we’re spacers who got stuck by the planetary quarantine after we stopped for supplies.”

Gwen nodded in affirmation and stepped away from the viewscreen, headed toward the music lounge. There were several people sitting and standing, listening to the Bith band play and watching the Twi’lek dancers. They were some of the few positions in the upper city where alien species were readily accepted. In this particular case, it was because of their species’ reputations in the performing arts. While they were acceptable as entertainers to the upper city citizens, it was understood by all parties that the respect for them ended there, sad as it was.

"Well, hello there!” the pair heard upon stepping through the entry to the music room. “I see from your exotic appearance that you are not from Taris originally. All me to introduce myself – my name is Jergan.” The man--Jergan--was seemingly directing his introduction toward Gwen. 

The woman flashed a smile, moving forward, which admittedly confused Carth. He’d not known her for very long, but it seemed a bit out of character compared to what he had come to know of her. “Pleased to meet you. My name's Gwen.” Was she flirting with him? It hardly seemed like the time… though they did need information. Perhaps this was just the woman’s way of being ‘subtle’ with her questioning.

“What do you think of our local music?” Jergen asked. “The band is quite good, wouldn't you agree? They're on the verge of intergalactic stardom, you know.”

“It's different, but I like it,” Gwen said.

“Obviously you have an ear for music,” he continued in an approving tone. “Mark my words, they'll be famous soon enough. They were about to go on tour before this Sith quarantine stranded them here. Would you like to meet the band after the show? Maybe have a brief brush with fame before they become intergalactic superstars? I can arrange it, you know.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows as her expression shifted to one of mild surprise. “Oh really? And just how will you arrange that?”

“I have a sort of standing arrangement with one of the Rodian bodyguards backstage. For the small sum of twenty credits he'll let me set up a meeting with you and the band.”

Gwen snorted, trying to hold back a laugh. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Are you certain? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity – meet the legends before they were famous. All it will cost you is a small handful of credits.”

The woman folded her arms. “Sounds like you're running a scam to me.”

“You sting me with your words!” Jergen said, feigning hurt. “I merely thought I could offer you the rare opportunity to meet a celebrity before they were famous. But I see you're not interested. That's too bad. They really are charming fellows. Very well, then – I hope you enjoy the music. If you change your mind come speak with me again.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and began to walk away, at which point, Carth thought it might be better to try to continue the conversation himself. After all, they’d not really gotten any useful information from him as of yet, and this man might still know something useful to them.

“Excuse me,” Carth said attempting to address Jergen himself, but he didn’t get very far before the other man waved in a dismissive gesture.

“Look, no hard feelings, my good man, but I can't really talk with you right now,” Jergen said, lowering his voice, presumably so no one else in the music room would overhear. “It's difficult enough to draw the interest of the ladies in this establishment as it is. Surely you understand what I'm talking about. I'd guess you've experienced many lonely evenings... something I'm hoping to avoid tonight.” He gestured a bit with his head toward Gwen. “Good luck.”

Before Carth had the chance to protest the insinuation, Jergen had started moving. It seemed he had spotted his next prospect across the room. The pilot shook his head at the comments and went to go find Gwen again, who was already mid-conversation with another male patron.

“Someone sure makes fast friends,” he muttered under his breath as he moved to stand behind her.

“It's good to talk about this stuff – It gets pretty lonely up at the military base,” Carth overheard the man she was talking to say. “I have to get going soon – I've got a shift at the base... but some of us junior Sith officers are having a party tonight to blow off some steam. I'd really like to see you again. Why don't you drop by the party? It’s at the apartment complex next door to the base, apartment A-06.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Gwen said coyly. “Not sure I have anything suited to wear back on the ship. I wasn’t exactly planning on going to any parties during our supplies stop…”

“You know, just because I'm with the Sith doesn't mean I don't know how to have a good time. You'll enjoy yourself. I promise. Don't be late. We're starting right after our shifts end. And don’t worry. Most of us won't even be going back to the base to lock up our uniforms, so I’m sure you’ll look fine. I look forward to seeing you there.”

Carth cleared his throat once the man had left. “An off-duty Sith, Gwen? Really?”

“What? He seemed nice enough…” she replied dismissively.

“You can’t be serious. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. You start asking the Sith about the crashed escape pods and somebody is gonna start getting suspicious.”

“Well, I didn’t ask him about the escape pods once I knew he was Sith. I’m stupid, Carth…”

“Well then what’s this with a party now? We’re not on vacation…”

“I may have just found us a way into the Under City… or did you forget that the planet is under quarantine and the only people allowed to travel to the lower levels are the Sith? Just trust me on this.”

Carth scoffed at the notion.Trust coercing with an enemy junior officer on an enemy-controlled planet? ‘Brilliant,’ he thought sarcastically. “Well forgive me if I’m sceptical at believing that you partying with the enemy is going to help our situation any.”

“Then you’re welcome to stay back at the apartment,” she said flatly as she rolled her eyes. “Me? I’ve got plans for tonight…”

><><><><><

[oldtumblhurgoyf]

Lauren Orsini wants to kiss a cat man and that’s wrong*

Here’s a ranking of All 36 'Magic: The Gathering' War of the Spark Planeswalkers Ranked By Dateability in Forbes no less. But it’s so terribly wrong. Here’s my Empirically Correct List of Planeswalkers Ranked By Dateability.

*this is all very silly and Orsini’s list is fine, I’m sure... for her.

36-28 Undateable

36 and 35. Tie between Gideon Jura and Domri Rade (with an honorable mention to Dack Fayden).

Dudes are all literally dead. Sorry, but I’m not dating a corpse. Also, before Gideon’s death, he was running himself ragged hopping from plane to plane to save the world. He didn’t have the time for a relationship. Domri is an obnoxious child (emphasis on child too). Of the three, Dack had the most potential but even alive he’d be lucky to break the top 20 of my list. Good for a few fun weekends and that’s probably it. Tempting to hope your love could reform him but that’s just a good way to have your heart stolen.

34. Nicol Bolas

He’s downright evil and self-centered to an unfathomable degree. Hard pass, no thank you. Literally no redeeming qualities.

33. Ob Nixilis

The obvious date for him is someone into BDSM, right? Wrong. He’s not going to respect your boundaries or practice good after care. He’ll use and abuse you for what he wants and then probably murder you. That’s not a date.

32. Dovin Baan

This dude’s whole deal is that he sees the flaws in everything. He’d probably outright refuse to date and if not, he’d constantly be nitpicking your relationship and you. There’s probably a decent amount of built up angst and stuff and if he ever cut loose there could be some fun, but it would be very fleeting and comes at too great a cost (months later thinking “what did he mean by ‘your forehead is adequate, but your nose is not the ideal shape’?”).

31. Tibalt

See Ob Nixilis. Kind of crazy how similar these two are.

30. Ashiok

We don’t know a whole lot about them, but I’m envisioning they’re like Ob Nixilis/Tibalt except it’s all mental/psychological harm. It’s Dovin Baan but instead of an ostensible pursuit of perfection, the mental anguish is its own reward.

29. Ugin

Like dating a dad, but a really boring dad. And like any other dragon, he’s still very full of himself, he’s just a little more subtle about it. Besides, apparently you’d do all your dating in the Prison Realm and Bolas would be there trying to ruin your (already pretty miserable) date as some small payback for being trapped.

28. Sorin Markov

Things will be okay, but he gives me weird unwanted daddy vibes and he’s just going to ghost you anyway.

27-19 Redeeming Qualities, Not Long-Term Material

27.  The Wanderer

Not much to go on here but we do know she’s gonna ghost you though probably not voluntarily.

26.  Teyo Verada

He seems nice enough but he’s pretty young and super naive. He’s got some things to figure out and some growing to do before you’d want to date him.

25. Jiang Yanggu

What I said for Teyo goes for Yanggu as well. Plus side, every date with him there is a really cute pupper coming along.

24. Kaya

She’s giving me Gideon vibes. I think she’d be more fun than Gids, but she’s too devoted to her career to have time for a relationship.

23. Teferi

It’s a common refrain I’m running into here, but Teferi is also too dedicated to his job to make for a good relationship. Additionally he’s got lifetimes of experiences that make him “The Most Interesting Man in the Multiverse” and you’re always going to feel like a second fiddle to him, not an equal. This is a case where he’s almost too perfect.

22. Jaya

Jaya’s got distinct mother vibes for me. There’s just no way I could see a date with her that isn’t weird. It wouldn’t even be a bad date per se, but it’s not gonna happen.

21. Samut

I’m intimidated by Samut. I mean, who wouldn’t be? She’s been through Amonkhet’s trials and stood ready in front of Hazoret’s spear. That’s such a singular dedication that few others can match. I think I’d shrivel in front of her love.

20. Kiora

She’s a playful trickster and kind of flighty. You’ve got one good date with her and then maybe a follow up fling at some point, but there’s no building a relationship here. I mean, unless you’re really lucky, but I wouldn’t count on it.

19. Karn

Karn’s got plenty going for him. He’s done some really interesting stuff, he’s motivated, and deeply invested even if he doesn’t always show it. He can certainly show you a lot of cool things. But long term the lack of humanity creates distance and problems.

18-10 A Good Time, Let’s See How it Works Out

19. Liliana Vess

She’s a toss up to me at this point. She’s been through a whole helluva lot and this is the point where she could go completely good, or take her get out of demon-contract-death jail free card and double down on all her worst attributes. She’ll be a fun date, you just can’t be sure it should be more than that.

17. Angrath

Dude’s super dedicated to his family but he gets incredibly frustrated and pretty damn easily. His name’s literally angry wrath so you kind of have to expect that. If you think going to a dive bar and getting into a fight with a biker is a good date then Angrath is going to be a fun time.

16. Vivien Reid

Maybe I just haven’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but I know less about Vivien Reid than any other planeswalker on this list I think (which is wild when you consider exactly how little we know about the Wanderer or Kasmina). But as the Steve Irwin of the multiverse, there’s no way this date isn’t fun. You’ve just perhaps bitten off more than you can chew.

15. Ajani Goldmane

Ajani is a total sweetheart who will care for you like no other. The flip side of that is he is always pushing you to be your better self and, hon, that’s just a little much for me. Like can’t we just stay in and cuddle for once? I do NOT want to go to the gym again this week.

14. Arlinn Kord

Unlike Jaya, I don’t have mom vibes here. She’s a good looking lady who definitely seems to be here for a good time. 

13. Huatli

This one is totally an “it’s not you, it’s me situation.” She’s so big on community and sharing stories--I’m more of a homebody. There’s nothing wrong exactly, we just won’t be compatible, I don’t think. But somebody out there is, and the two of you will get along famously. Another list would totally rank her as marriage material.

12. Narset

This is another case of such dedication and perfectionism that I just don’t think I could measure up in a relationship with her. She’ll come home from exploring the multiverse and meditation and combat training and reading ancient scrolls to find all I’ve done is take out the trash and do some dishes before playing some games and... not be disappointed exactly, but it won’t inspire respect and desire in her. Another one where there’s incredible potential there... for the right person.

11. Kasmina

Mysterious as she is, I’m getting young Jaya vibes from Kasmina. Not as in, when Jaya was actually young and all fiery temper and stuff. But rather, current Jaya without the creepy (to me) mom vibes. There’s potential here but so much mystery it’s impossible to say for sure without taking a chance.

10. Nahiri

I can’t imagine anyone I’d have a better single date with. Like a real good time. She’s planned it out perfectly and she’s ready to go. It might not last, but you’ll enjoy it while it does. Keep the lines of communication clear, respect boundaries, and be aware she can hold a grudge, and I think this actually has a chance.

9-1 Marriage Material

9. Jace Beleren

He’s sort of what I see Yanggu or Teyo needing. He’s done that growing and learning and he’s a pretty solid guy. He’s learned a lot of lessons the hard way but he’s definitely better for it.

8. Tamiyo

She’s literally married and raising kids in a happy home. The potential is there (if we ignore her canon marriage and assume she is available to date), not to mention her chosen career of essentially multiverse astronomer is pretty damn cool and relatively safe compared to what these other planeswalkers have devoted themselves to. (Sure, there’s Innistrad and Emrakul, but I imagine most planes’ moons are much safer to observe than that.)

7. Sarkhan Vol

Like Jace, he’s worked through a lot and is a pretty awesome person because of it. Unlike Jace, he’s been attractive the whole time. He’s tender and vibrant and aware and just cool as all hell. Bringing him home would be like dating Brendan Frasier in his prime.

6. Vraska

Downside to Vraska is that she’s pretty clique-ish and suspect of anyone from outside her group. Her views have expanded recently, but I think she’s still going to put up a rock hard exterior. If you can chisel your way through that then you’ve got a heart of gold.

5. Davriel Cane

Forget the demon contracts and all that nonsense. What this guy wants deep down is to just be left alone. Let’s retire to a nice estate on the countryside and enjoy our time together.

4. Saheeli Rai

Creative and inspiring, Saheeli is an absolute sweetheart. And she’s dedicated to a craft that she can do at home. She doesn’t have go trooping about the multiverse on dangerous missions without you. She can work on amazing marvels in her workshop then come next door to take you out for ice cream.

3. Nissa Revane

Nissa is a bit aloof and distant, but don’t let that fool you. She’s nurturing in every way you could want and then some. She’s great if you can get past that stoic exterior.

2. Ral Zarek

Ral’s more romantic than I ever woulda thought. He’s dedicated and thoughtful, but not so stuffy that things get boring. Actually the biggest detractor here is that things will never be boring with Ral, but he’ll make it worth your while to stick beside him through it all.

1. Chandra Nalaar

Full of warmth and passion, Chandra’s got what it takes to make the strongest connection. And she’s another character who has made some incredible personal growth recently. She’s ready to take the next step with someone special and if that were you, the two of you are in for a long-burning love.

[veiled-legacy]

When I Woke Up

A SWTOR story set during the early chapters of KOTFE. 

She was asleep for five years and he flooded her thoughts the moment she woke up. After seeing his name on that message, she doesn’t know how to react. What does it mean to dream about someone?

(A romance/friendship story with my Inquisitor/Theron and Koth is becoming a good friend on the Zakuul surface)

***

When I Woke Up

It did all feel like a crazy dream. Once again having a sadistic madman in my head mumbling promises of power and seemingly unattainable freedom. Currently residing in a legendary space ship that’s framed into the earth of this strange planet. Watching Marr die. Watching as I stabbed my lightsaber straight through the emperor, no, Valkorion’s chest. Waking up to find, not my ship and my crew… my family, but Lana. Five years. Force, did I wish this was all a crazy dream.

Once everything settled down on the gravestone I decided to check my messages to see if anyone in my crew had tried to contact me over the years. Nothing. Not one message from my crew, but there was a letter from someone I did not suspect.

Theron Shan.

From: Theron Shan Subject: For when you wake up

I’ve written this message twice now. Okay, more than twice. Kinda weird writing something that may never be read. Lana says you’re locked in carbonite, but alive. (Yeah, we’re in touch. Long story.) I like to think you’re having one crazy dream. And maybe I’m in it. But I don’t want to presume. We never really declared what this—you and me—is… was…. Have I mentioned I’m bad at relationships? Another reason I’m a workaholic.

I’m rambling. The point I’m trying to make is—whatever’s between us, I want you to know that I care about you. A lot. The whole galaxy’s lost its mind. The thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that you’re out there, and we’re putting together a plan to rescue you. I might not be there—we’ve all got our parts to play—but I haven’t forgotten about you or our time together. I never will.

A crazy dream… and he’s in it? What we are? We all have our parts to play… our time together…

“Hey, you all set to go?” a voice and hand on my shoulder bolted me out of my thoughts as I quickly turned to see Koth with one hand on the large bag hung over his shoulder and his other hand gently resting on his blaster. His demeanor was easier going and more humorous than I was used to. This coming from a member of the dark council who has a pirate, a very confused Jedi, a blood thirsty Kaleesh, a century old shadow killer and an artifact obsessed historian as her crew. After five years, I could only hope they were all doing well. “Hey, are you okay?”

Koth displayed a certain level of concern on his face which puzzled me. I was a master in many things regarding the force: persuasion techniques, lightning storms, corruption. However, I was a mere acolyte when it came to understanding people.

I was sold into slavery at 9-years-old by my parents. They sold me for money to buy spice, which I discovered years later, ended up killing them. After being sold into slavery, I started working the streets by stealing as much as I could to make money for my master. If I came back without enough, I was beaten. If I was caught, I was beaten. If I came back with too much and upstaged the other kids, I was beaten. Another slave, Kelin, was the only other person who I could remotely resemble as a friend. We shared our small portions of food with each other, tried to double on our blankets at night to keep each other warm and tried to come up with excuses to keep the other from trouble. When our master got Kelin killed, I tore him apart. The Sith who discovered the bloody aftermath explained that I couldn’t have stopped it even if I wanted to. The anger inside of me called upon the force that I hadn’t used since birth and caused the lightning that shot from my fingers to mangle him in two.

I was 17 when that Sith took me in to be his slave instead. He trained me enough to keep my power at bay so there was no chance I could split him in two as well. That lasted until I was 21. Someone on the council, who was never identified, had him killed. That’s when they sent me to Korriban to start my real training. That seems a millennium ago now. Receiving any form of genuine emotion leaves me with nothing but confusion. Even with my crew. I talked to Ashara often about many things. She’s the reason I started questioning the Sith and their code. Though I would never consider myself a Jedi, I’m not sure I could consider myself a Sith now either. Andronikos is probably the one person who could get me to actually smile, and that’s because there was no bullshit in our relationship. We drank, we talked about the past and played pazaak. That was it. He was never a touchy-feely person either which is why it worked. Then of course you have the other three in my company. Talos is a good man, but not much for personal conversations. Xalek and Khem, well… Koth is one of the only people I’ve spent time with who actually seems… normal? Other than…

“Of course. Where are we headed to?” I knew we needed parts for the ship, but I left the planning to Koth since he knows the Gravestone better than Lana or I.

“Right… well, I’m reading a lot of different signatures on the surface. Once we leave this beauty, I’ll have a better idea of what I’m looking at here.”

“Then the surface is where we shall go.” Koth gave a quick nod before following my lead off the Gravestone. Our boots echoed across the metal floor of the ship. Static and sporadic electrical trills sounded from the other rooms. She had a long way to go before she was ready to fly again. Once on the surface, Koth lead the way to where he thought the different parts would be. We ran into a few of the creatures lingering around the swampy area, but they were easily disposed of.

A crazy dream… what exactly did his message mean? Yes, Theron and I had a relationship of sort. I flirted, he flirted back. I kissed him, he kissed back. We fought and planned well together, but what did that all mean?

In the past I had slept with many men, but not with the notion that I would ever see them again after the deed was done. Theron was different. Of course, we hadn’t slept together, when would we have had time? While drowning in pirates on Rishi? While fighting off Revan on Yavin? During the destruction of Ziost? No. He was right. There was never a time to talk about what we were. I can’t say I never thought of it. I usually never gave a second thought for the men who frequently walked in and out of my life, but Theron kept coming back. Why did he keep coming back? Why would he be in my dreams?

“Hello… philosopher? Are you still alive in there? The carbonite didn’t fully damage your brain did it?” Koth’s voice brought me back to the task at hand again. As I looked at him I was once again faced with the same look of concern he gave on the Gravestone. Similar to the look Theron gave me before the fight on Yavin. The look he gave me when he found me on Ziost.

“Philosopher?” I questioned.  

“Ah! So, you are still alive! Good. Yeah, philosopher. I don’t know, you’ve had the same look stuck on your face since I picked you up on Zakuul. It’s like you’re constantly thinking about something. Philosophers constantly think about stuff don’t they?”

“In the simplest of definitions yes. They seek wisdom or enlightenment.”

“Well that definitely rules you out then,” I thought Koth’s cheeks would split open from the smirk that appeared on his face.

“Excuse me. Are you implying I am neither wise nor enlightened?”

“I’m just saying you’re currently running around, knee deep in force knows what, searching for ship parts to repair a century old ship that’s stuck in the ground with a guy you hardly know so we can go force knows where to save the galaxy from certain evil. Wise and enlightened are not words I would use in this situation.”

The laughter came out before I could stop it. Koth’s eyes widened as he stumbled back into a mud pile, quickly causing him to fall straight into a pond of murky jade water. His mouth dropped open as his arms held his blaster and half of the large bag over his head above the foot of water he was currently soaking in. My mouth shut as I tried to contain the laughter bouncing around in my chest. I efficiently called upon the force to lift him out of the water and place him on his two feet on dry land. I wrapped one arm across my chest and the other arm covered my mouth.

“I do apologize. I understand I am a grave force to be reckoned with, but I did not think a simple laugh could knock a man off his feet.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect a philosopher to laugh so we’re both a little shocked here.” Koth grabbed pinches of his pants as he shook as much of the water off as he could.

“Have you ever been in love, Koth?” I asked simply.

Koth stopped in his tracks and glanced at me in his bent over position. “Come again?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Straightening up, he cleared his throat a bit before placing the bag at his feet and crossing his arms across his chest in a manner that stated he was more uncomfortable than defensive. He picked at his jacket a bit as he swayed slightly back and forth. Turning his head to the side and scrunching his eyebrows he responded, “Huh, I don’t think so. Looking back, I’ve always been too busy to ever think about it. Flying has kind of been my life for so many years, no one has ever been able to compare.” Nodding, I looked slightly to the ground, my thoughts back to the letter. Back to the idea of dreaming about Theron. “Uh, why do you ask? Is this some philosophical question?”

Looking back at him, I smirked before thinking about how I wanted to pose this predicament I was in. Explaining battle plans or possible tactical advantages was second nature to me now. I sometimes dream about different battle scenarios, but I’ve never given a thought about what it would mean to dream about a man. To dream about Theron. To want to.

“No. Just curiosity.”

“Curiosity… right.” Koth picked up the bag and dropped it across his shoulder again before looking at the scanner on his wrist to see if he could pick up any other parts nearby. “Well, out of curiosity, have you ever been in love?”

“That is what I am curious about.” I wasn’t quite sure why I was saying these things to Koth or why I even thought this should be a conversation to have now. I do know I lost five years in that prison. Five years of teaching Ashara and Xalek. Five years of drinks I could have had with Andronikos while playing Pazaak in the cockpit of our ship. Five years of stories from Talos. Five years of glorious victories with Khem. Five years… five years of figuring out what this is with Theron. I missed five years.

Kelin once told me I should smile more and open up to others. He said keeping everything to myself and never confiding in those around me would end up killing me. He said it would cause my deepest scars. Of course, he said this after he received his third beating that day, while I hand fed him his dinner in our cold pathetic excuse for living quarters. But more than his wounds, it worried him that I was too closed off. That I was going to live the rest of my life with words unsaid. Maybe that’s why I was opening up to Koth. Maybe I was finally too tired to carry these scars around alone.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Once Koth spoke again, he was right in front of me. His hand was gently touching the armor on my shoulder as he looked right at me, no more concern on his face. It was replaced with genuine interest and… friendship.

“Later.” I patted his arm twice before walking ahead of him to return to our original mission. He didn’t question nor pester. His steps fell right behind me as we walked quietly across the swamp floor once more. Right now, that was enough.  There would be time to talk about Theron. With luck, I would be able to talk to Theron again. For now, we need to find parts for this ship, get it in the sky, get an army and take Arcann off that throne.

“Koth?”

“Yeah philosopher?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me laugh.”

The footsteps stopped behind me.

“Anytime, Kyehna.”

From: Kyehna Subject: For when I see you again

I will be honest from the start and tell you I have written this message a thousand times. When Lana told me five years had passed, I panicked for the first time since I was a child. I did not know how to feel or what to think. Strangely, my first thoughts were of you. Logically, it should have been of my crew or the council. It should have been of the empire. No, instead, I had thoughts of you. They vanished quickly as I was then being chased by Arcann and his entire army, but that story has already been told. If it is not one tyrannical emperor, it is another.

Theron. I do hope you are well. I care for you more than I would dare admit, but you are right. We all have a role to play in this. Lana got me out and has been a vital adviser every step of the way. Koth is a brilliant pilot and strong voice for this cause. Senya has had information that could turn this war in our favor. Even HK has been shooting as many of our enemies down as possible. What I am trying to say is, whatever your role is in all of this, I understand. I can only hope that you come to me in one piece when you are done. Until then, I will wait for you.

I always will.

[visionmarred-archive]

In recent years, Lock had discovered if there was any certainty to life, it was the decided lack of certainty in life. Perhaps it was naive even for a former Jedi, but growing up, he had always thought that there was going to be a certain steadiness to life that would hold from being a bright-eyed youngling to his final days as a Senior Consular for the Order. It had taken war and loss to introduce him properly to the concept of uncertainty, and it had been a hard pill to swallow - still was, sometimes. Perhaps it was a lesson easier learned for those who hadn’t grown up studying the Force inside a temple, sheltered from the rest of the galaxy.

However, it was doubtful that even a more normal childhood could prepare a man for coming home to his apartment, only to find that there was an unconscious Sith Lord laying on his bed.

Having been cut off by the bartender at the cantina nearest to his unofficial apartment, Lock had stumbled his way back, his mind a pleasant haze that cut off any and all thoughts he wanted absolutely nothing to do with. He’d had plenty of those since the war (since him, but - don’t think about that), and he’d found that alcohol had been the only thing to really help with the pain. His hands grasping for the switch on a door that he had long since broken open for the sake of a place to sleep during his stay on Taris, Lock was ready to fall onto the bed and pass out, and start the cycle of drinking and sleeping anew.

Laughing to himself at a joke that he had just thought of, Lock leaned against the door for a moment to steady himself, eyes closed and mind blocked out to the world around him. When he opened them again, he realized that he wasn’t alone - with a shock, he saw a man wearing an orange jacket sitting on a chair by the window, eyes wide and a hand on his blaster.

Lock gaped for a moment, blinking dumbly before reaching for his own weapon. “What the druk are - are you - you doing in my - in my apartment?” He slurred, pulling out the blaster and aiming it at the orange man.

His hand shaking a bit, Lock never took his gaze off of the orange man - blinked heavily several times, sure, but otherwise never looked away. To his credit, the stranger took his hands off his blaster and raised them up in the air, an apologetic (if firmly defensive) expression on his face.

“Don’t shoot! I didn’t realize this was occupied, I-I’m sorry!” He stood from the chair slowly, and Lock took a breath as his foggy mind reached for the Force. Clear the toxins. Clear your mind.

He didn’t like the idea of throwing away his beloved intoxication, but he liked the idea of getting shot due to stupidity even less.

“Well, it is.” Lock sneered, voice firmer now that the effects of the alcohol were melting away from his mind. There went a good several credits, all for nothing. “What are you doing here?”

The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hands still in the air in surrender. “Look, my… my friend and I both just survived something dangerous, and I was looking for a place to stay. She’s been out cold.”

“Your friend? What friend?” Yet even speaking the sentence, Lock now felt the presence of another in the room. His blaster still pointed, his eyes looked around the room - and widened to the size of a Hutt’s backside when he saw who Orangey was talking about.

Revan.

Even a cantina-hopping drunk recently arrived from Nar Shaddaa heard rumors, and the biggest one lasting a year had talked about the Dark Lord’s death. Yet there she was, in the flesh, laying down on his bed and squirming in her sleep. She certainly didn’t look like Darth Revan; stars, she looked like any common criminal from the smuggler’s moon, in fact.

Years of memories involving the woman couldn’t lie to a former corporal serving under her, however.

Whipping his gaze back to the Orange Man, he glared hard as he put both hands around the blaster. “Who are you? Are you with the Sith?” He demanded, sensing around the room for where he had put his lightsaber. He hadn’t had to use it in a while, but he wasn’t above summoning the white blade to defend himself if need be. He stepped forward, the door automatically closing behind him.

The Orange Man returned his glare at that, lips curling back as he shook his head. “Wha - no, I’m not with the Sith! I would never ally with them!”

Lock scoffed. “That’s good. Means I won’t pump you full of lasers if you’re telling the truth.” A grin quirked on his lips, and he found the location of his lightsaber through the Force. Slowly, as to not make a noise, he pulled the top drawer by the window open. “Then who are you with? Who’s your friend?”

He’s tempted to point the blaster at Revan, riddle his old friend full of lasers in her sleep, and yet...

“Look, we’re soldiers with the Republic, alright?” The Orange Man said defensively. “My friend and I just got away from something terrible, like I said. We’re looking for a woman - Bastila Shan. That’s all.”

Lock felt as though he’d been slapped at the mention of Bastila - of all the things he was expecting the man to say, one pertaining to his old friend had been the last thing he’d have thought of.

“Bastila Shan? Why are you looking for Bastila Shan?” Lock asked before he could stop himself.

A mistake; he sees the mistrust in the soldier’s eyes, the way the man’s gears must be turning right now, and it’s apparent to the ex-Jedi that quick thinking is in order.

Let’s see… the Jedi-led ship blowing up over Taris a few days ago. The appearance of this soldier, and… Revan. The defensiveness. Now Bastila?

A gamble, but if he was wrong, well… he had a lightsaber ready to cut to the man down.

“She’s my commanding officer. I’m a scout, one she sent to check out the planet. Do you know where she is?” Lock didn’t really have to fake the desperation in his voice, but he tells himself that he does.

The Orange Man’s eyes narrow, and his arms go down to his side, yet not to his blaster. “You’re a scout for Bastila? When did you get here? How come I wasn’t told?”

A gamble that paid off, it looks like.

“It was two standard weeks ago,” Lock lied smoothly, lowering the blaster. “It was supposed to be a covert recon - the less involvement from others, the better. She actually requested me from a different ship.”

The Orange Man was silent for a moment, his eyes still narrowed and his jaw stiffening. “So, let me get this straight.” He said, holding a hand in the air. “This is your apartment that me and my fellow soldier just broke into - but you’re a scout for Bastila? Explain that to me.”

For a moment, Lock was tempted to simply wave his hand and use the Force to bend his mind, but ultimately decided against it. If it didn’t work, then he’d have more problems than he’d started with. “It was part of my cover. In case you didn’t notice, Sith are wandering around everywhere on this planet - pretending like I was a native made my day significantly less riddled with blaster shots, you see. The quarantine made it difficult to get back, so my stay in this glorious hotel got extended.” He slumped his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been waiting for evacuation off-planet ever since.”

There was another long moment of silence, and Lock was started to lose his calm. It was maddening to try and figure out if the Orange Man bought his lie, and he didn’t relish the idea of fighting him. He especially didn’t relish the idea of their fight waking up the Sith Lord.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore staring, the man finally relaxed, if only a little. “I’m sorry, then. We ran into some complications. The Sith attacked the Endar Spire; me and Cypher here barely made it out with our lives.

Looking back at the woman resting fitfully, Lock rose a brow. “Cypher?”

“That’s her name, I think, Amethylia Cypher. A new addition to the crew, she just transferred one standard month ago. Bastila personally requested it.”

That was a surprise. As the stories had gone, Bastila had led the strike team that had killed Darth Revan… yet the Sith Lord was not only alive and well, she was part of Bastila’s crew?

Something didn’t add up, and Lock decided then and there that he needed to find his old friend more than anything else.

“And you and Cypher are planning to look for Bastila, right?” Lock asked, continuing before the Orange Man could reply. “I’m Quill of the Republic - but you knew that last part already. I want to help you find Bastila. If something’s gone wrong, then it’s my duty to help her.”

That was probably the most honest thing that Lock had said all evening.

He knows that the Orange Man is debating his answer, weighing out a million different responses. Lock can hardly blame him, really, but his empathy was admittedly outweighed by his desire to find Bastila and figure out what in the krif was going on.

Finally, the Orange Man responded - a stiff nod of the head, and Lock felt the tension leave his shoulders. “Then… if it’s alright with you, can Cypher and I stay here?”

“You already made yourselves at home, right?” Lock snorted, smiling tiredly at him. “When Cypher wakes up, then we talk strategy. I’ve learned a lot about the planet during my stay here, and I have some ideas where to go look for our Jedi friend.”

“Some ideas are better than none. Thank you, Quill.” The Orange Man said, appearing to relax a bit for the first time since Lock had come home.

“Thank me when we find Bastila.” Lock shook his head. “What’s your name, Creamsicle?”

The ghost of a smile appeared on the Orange Man’s face, and Lock decided that it was an improvement to the suspicious scowling that had been there but a moment ago. “Carth. Carth Onasi. It’s good to meet you.”

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story): Chapter 18- Thicker Than Water

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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(Good grief, this one’s even longer. Full text after the cut, but I’d really suggest one of the links for best effect.) Content warning: references to and descriptions of torture.)

Chapter Eighteen: Thicker Than Water

16 ATC. Rishi.

This might be,  Nine thinks as she holds her blaster steady, finger about to switch off the safety, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Which really is impressive, given the span of her career so far includes some pretty spectacular feats of idiocy (all the way back to assuming Darth Jadus was ever dead. She knows better now- never believe anyone’s dead until you’ve got your own fingers on their lack of pulse and even then, put a round between their eyes just in case- but she forgave herself for that long ago. She didn’t know the game back then, thought she was a back row piece on the chessboard when of course she was just a pawn and they played her like one. But even pawns get to the last rank of the board sometimes, and when they do-

She’s not a pawn anymore. She’s a fucking queen.)

But holding an armed Sith Lord at blaster-point? She’d thought she could trust Lana, but so had Theron- if she’s wrong about this, she’s very likely about to lose a hand or worse and he’s probably going to die strapped to an interrogation table in some Revanite base and he doesn’t deserve that, Republic or not.

No one deserves that.

No matter how many times she’s dreamed about burning the entire SIS to the ground, she wouldn’t wish torture on her worst enemy. On Corellia she’d known what was going to happen, in abstract if not in detail, and she had a mission to complete and failure wasn’t in the game plan; still, when the straps tightened and Hunter’s people started their work there were moments when she almost hoped for a cut too deep, a hit too hard or a dose just a little too high, anything to make the pain stop for a moment-

Theron would have never seen it coming.

“With Theron inside their base, he’ll be able to do what he does.” Lana blinks down the barrel, one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly but her expression unreadable. “Once we retrieve him, we can-”

“Did you plan this?” She cuts in abruptly, well past the point of caring about rudeness. Sith or not, she needs to know.

Another blink. “Did I- what?”

“Did you,” she says it again, each word sharp as knives, “plan for Theron’s capture? Was that why you wouldn’t wait for me?”

Eyes widening, Lana moves slowly, carefully, to clip her saber back to her belt. “You think I- no. No! It went all wrong, but if we move quickly we can still retrieve Theron, preferably alive, and salvage the situation. Do put that away so I can explain, please.”

“I think we’re just fine like this. Don’t you, Jakarro?” As the wookiee roars agreement she curls and uncurls her finger, just so, in line with the trigger. “Explain. Now.”

(Would you really have shot me? Still half-buried in her pillow nest, Lana looks up at her, head tilted.  

A question like that merits a drink- she reaches for the bottle and drains the last of it. I needed to narrow down the possibilities, and I didn’t have much time to work with. The blaster helped.

You may need to explain that one, I’m afraid.

Keeping in mind that I didn’t know you then like I do now, and given my previous track record with Sith-  Lana nods agreement as she says it-  the way I saw it there were three options. One, that you were a Revanite all along. Theron wouldn’t turn, so you had him captured and waited to see how I’d react-

When Lana’s really, honestly amused she can always tell: if she laughs in public (which she rarely does) it’s the clipped, terse chuckle that’s a native species to Dromund Kaas in its own right, the sort of laugh that doesn’t draw attention because when one grows up in the Empire’s heart one learns to conform or suffer the consequences. But in private, like now, it’s something else entirely, rising and falling, notes on a musical scale. Did you honestly believe that?

It was by far the least likely scenario- too complicated by half, and if I’d objected you’d have had to deal with me and Jakarro at the same time. In any case, you didn’t attack me when I drew on you, so that one was out.

Option two? Lana shifts over onto her stomach, chin resting on her hands and forehead crinkled in thought.

The most likely option, all things considered. You were telling the truth. The mission went bad, Theron was compromised, and you let him get captured in the hope that he’d manage to both survive and learn something useful in the process.  She shakes her head.  Risky and stupid, but you would have wanted to explain yourself. You would have thought I’d agree with you.

An eyeroll, a grumble, and a pillow tossed in her direction-  You don’t have to lecture me again, you know. I’m aware-

Did Theron ever talk about what happened? With Revan?

No. Lana shakes her head. Even when he came to Asylum, he never brought it up. So I thought it better to let it lie rather than reopening old wounds. Did he tell you?

A little. Enough. I-  she pauses. Have you ever been interrogated? Not as practice, not debriefing- actually interrogated.

A second headshake. I’ve been fortunate. I’ve seen more of them than I’d care to, given my particular talent-  her lip curls, her tone dry- but before I served Darth Arkous I spent most of my time with the historians, and with your warnings about Darth Zhorrid’s proclivities I was able to keep mostly clear of her after my promotion.

Then you wouldn’t understand what it’s like. Not like we do.

I don’t think that’s fair,  Lana says. I’m sure it was painful and I know it could have gone badly, but Theron-

She holds up one hand. No. I’m sorry, but no. You don’t understand, and you don’t get to justify it.

Then why don’t you explain it to me?

If I could tell you, I…  No. There aren’t words to put to those feelings, not ones that anyone else would understand (except for Theron- he understands. Maybe even better than she does).  You know, it might be easier to show you. Do you remember Valkorion’s little mind games from before, on the Gravestone?

Lana nods.

Let’s try this, then. An exercise. She stands, reaching back toward her desk for her datapad. Think of that, and keep that pressure in your head, and I want you to read me.

All right. But why the datapad?

I’m going to play something in the background. With reverse interrogations that’s often all you get, assuming your captors aren’t total incompetents- snippets of conversations, a whisper they think you can’t hear. Theron was-  she almost said lucky, but no, he wasn’t lucky at all-  Revan liked to talk, so that helped, but…  She sighs. Ten minutes. Ten minutes, then tell me what you heard.

She loads two files. First, her recording of two days ago’s logistics meeting, scanning forward to the end, to when they’d started to rehash the Nar Shaddaa shield bunker problem for the hundredth time. Second, to trigger the appropriate memory- this one takes her longer, buried six folders deep and behind three separate passwords- SCORPIO’s recording of Corellia.

(She ought to have deleted it a long time ago. It’s not healthy, probably, keeping things like that around.)

Hour ten, she thinks. A particularly unpleasant hour.

She presses play on the second file, sound muted, her attention focused on the screen. It takes a moment, even so, to pull the walls down from around the hours of time it took months of deliberate effort to suppress, but then, finally…  Ah.  She hisses, her head starting to throb. There it is.

Shall we begin? Remember, imagine Valkorion too, if you want an idea of what Theron felt.  

Lana reaches out for her arm as she pushes her sleeve up, fingers circling her wrist.  I’ll try. Show me.

Still watching the recording play, she lets herself fall back into the memory as the connection between them solidifies.

[by hour ten she was hurting bad: the truth serum was useless, of course, but they’d pushed the dose to a point that left her dizzy and feverish; her right eye aches, the lid swollen shut and her nose and three ribs broken (not her fingers yet, though- that was hour fourteen). they’ve grown bored of hitting her and it hasn’t gotten them what they want.

 the woman’s leaning her forward, pulling up her jacket while her body howls protest, and tapes the electrode array to the base of her spine as her partner does the same along the soles of her bare feet.

i’ve already told you everything i know, she says. this isn’t going to change anything.

the woman looks at her, then to the still-active holocomm where hunter’s standing, arms crossed. your call, boss. keep going?]

Shifting, restless and uncomfortable, Lana tightens her grip; she starts the first file, leaving it playing in the background as-

[she’s a very good liar, hunter grins.  ten minutes, i think, and we’ll try again.  turning, hunter eyes her up and down. oh, legate. this would be so much easier if you hadn’t changed your programming. at this rate you’re going to miss the whole party.

she smiles, lips dry. she’d kill for a glass of water; she’d kill for a lot of things, at the moment. think i’ll pass. the hors d'oeuvres were terrible.

your loss. stars, she hates that laugh. let’s begin.

it builds slowly, a prickle in her toes, crawling slowly up her legs into the muscles of her back, and at first she thinks maybe it won’t be so bad and then the man in armor, the leader of the trio holding her captive, reaches for the control box and cranks the dial up and-]

It’s hard to watch. She can almost feel it, the electricity coursing in ten-second pulses through her body until she’s arching against the restraints, and she remembers the noise she made, a inhuman keening wail she wouldn’t have known as her own voice except that recordings do not lie. There was no helping it, of course, no shame in it. But still.

After the first minute Lana curls onto her side, eyes closed, fingernails of her contact hand digging into the underside of her forearm and her other hand clenched into a fist pressed tight against her mouth. After two minutes she tries to pull away.

I said ten minutes.  She lowers her arm against the surface of the couch, pinning Lana’s hand between her wrist and the cushions. Not yet.

[the stutter-stop irregularity of it’s the hardest thing- thirty seconds of rest and then five bursts in a row, then another pause and then three, then six, then two, again and again, so she can’t count them, can’t know when to fight it and when to stop fighting-]

You never do, Valkorion says, stirring in the back of her mind, brushing the memory aside like a child throwing an unwanted toy as he forces himself forward.  With my power at your disposal you could bring my children to heel in the span of a heartbeat and yet still you fight me. It would be so much easier if-

(He did that on purpose. She’s certain of it. For a moment he even sounds like Hunter.)

With a gasp and a twitch she throws all her mental walls back up, knocking the datapad off her lap and sending it clattering to the floor. Lana startles, too, hands moving to her temples as her eyes fly open.

Was that-?

She sighs. Unintentional. I’m not sure what he might be able to do through a one-sided connection, but I assume you’re not particularly interested in finding out.

You would be correct. When Lana stands she’s wobbly on her feet, hanging onto the back of the couch and then the edge of the holotable as she makes her way to the refresher. Excuse me. Door half-shut behind her, barely audible but unmistakable over the sound of running water, she retches- once, twice, then splashing at the basin and the tap shutting off. When she emerges again she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand before returning to sit beside her, face colorless and lips pressed tight together and completely avoiding her questioning gaze.

That was cruel of me, she whispers after a minute into the silence between them. I apologize.

You don’t- I really did think you’d agree with me. Her head doesn’t move but her eyes dart sideways, briefly, before she focuses back on the far wall. I only had a few seconds to make the decision, and we hadn’t heard back from you. It might have been our last real chance to get to the heart of things. But-  Lana wipes her face again, the pressure of her fingertips leaving faint pink marks on her forehead and down her cheeks- Force help me. No wonder you were so angry. And no wonder Theron hated me for it, if what you showed me was anything like what happened with Revan.

Reaching down for the fallen datapad, she shuts it off, sets it on the table. Different goals, so it’s not an even comparison. Close enough for our purposes, though. And again, I didn’t mean for Valkorion to interfere. That part of the exercise was supposed to be theoretical but he-

Is that what it feels like all the time?  Lana interjects, finally looking at her again. I don’t know how you stand it.

No, thankfully. Only when he’s active, which isn’t terribly often. Sometimes I almost forget.

(Then I shall have to endeavor, he says, the thought snaking around her consciousness like creeping ivy, to be more memorable.)

But only almost. Going back to the point: do you remember anything you heard of the recording I was playing?

Not a damned thing. I barely knew it was there, let alone being able to focus on it. That- she bares her teeth, an expression halfway between apology and pain. Ah, fuck, that hurt so much, Nine.

That makes her blink; she can count on one hand the number of times she’s heard her really properly swear. I know. I’m sorry.

Me, too, Lana says. Me, too.

Suddenly she’s tired. As they both lean back, letting the cushions bear them up, they settle against each other, shoulder against shoulder, pressure and weight comforting in their familiarity. (For a moment she thinks of Yavin IV, after the battle, huddled exhausted on a fallen pillar waiting for evac back to base camp, with her body accorded neutral territory between Theron on her right and Lana on her left. Six years on, everything and nothing at all have changed.)

What was the third option? You knew the second was the right one, but-

Oh. Yes. She chuckles faintly. Option three was somewhere between the first two. You weren’t a Revanite, but you’d run out of patience. You knew Jakarro’s intel on the house was wrong- through the Force, maybe, I don’t know how- and you set Theron up deliberately. You sent me to Torch’s island to keep me from interfering and you threw him to the wolves. Our last best chance.

You know I didn’t.

She runs her hand along the underside of her opposite wrist, along the half-moon indentations left by five neat fingernails. You were a bad liar back then, and I’m about as Force-sensitive as a rock but I know a lie when I hear one. I believed you.

I’ve had too much practice between then and now, Lana murmurs, but not to you. For the sake of curiosity, what would have happened had you decided it was option three?

If I thought that you were capable of that, after all we’d already done together? Raising her index finger, she brushes the bangs off Lana’s forehead then taps sharply, once, exactly in the center. It would have been quick. But I’d have blown your fucking head off.)

  ***

They rent a boat at the dock.

“A hunting party,” she tells the Rishii at the slip. Anywhere else that would have raised eyebrows, given Kaliyo’s hauling a backpack that’s half her size and entirely full of explosives- she’d told her, when she called the ship, to come loaded for bear and by the look of it she’d emptied the armory- but today the Rishii just unties the lines and wishes them good hunting.

There’s something to be said for pragmatism, though she doubts Theron would agree at the moment.

The little village on the island’s surprisingly welcoming, too, considering they’ve lost half their territory to an armed camp of fanatics; within half an hour they’ve got a temporary base set up in a stone-and-thatch hut with a good view of the valley beyond. To go by the comm traffic Dee-Four’s intercepted so far the Revanites’ main stronghold is somewhere on the far side of the island, hidden in the dense jungle, but the native scouts don’t seem to know any more than they’ve managed on their own.

So she and Kaliyo ride out on borrowed speeders, leaving Lana and Jakarro in the village to keep sorting through data.

(She’d left Jakarro a one-line message: instructions, just in case her gut instinct had played them wrong and Lana made another move in her absence.

Lana doesn’t need to hear that, though. In retrospect it was paranoia, and she’s hurt her enough already for today.)

“Bad intel and no plan. Lucky for you, I hate plans.” Kaliyo turns to her at the top of the valley path as they pull a camouflage net over the speeders; engines tuned for endurance, the bikes make far too much noise to reach the camp unnoticed but at least they’re close now. “We’re cloaking in, yeah?”

“Yes. The closer we get without alarms up, the more likely Theron’s still alive when we get there.”

She nods, adjusts the stealth device. “Syncing now. How are we playing if we’re blown?”

“Hard and fast. We don’t have time or personnel for surrenders.” Slipping her rifle free of her back harness, she checks it one last time. “Shoot to kill.”

“My favorite words. And it’s not even my birthday.” Kaliyo flashes her a quick grin but she doesn’t return it, and after a moment she shrugs and finishes tying down the net. “We’ll get there. What’s his clock at?”

She looks down at her chrono, at the third timer counting inexorably upward beneath the little dials of local and Standard Time. “Three hours and six minutes. Let’s move.”

***

The Imperial commander, a pathetic grasping little Sith of the sort ubiquitous around the Kaas City Sanctum, wants to talk and wants out of the Revanite mess but doesn’t know anything at all- utterly typical. Killing him would only waste time, though, so she sends him and his honor guard packing and moves on to the Republic camp; one less leader’s still progress, if only a little.

The Republic compound guards, on the other hand, refuse to stand down. They waste a quarter-hour trying to snipe from cover before she lets Kaliyo blow the place to pieces, a block of detonite on the back door and four grenades through the skylight an inelegant but effective solution.

They haven’t time for elegance. This is taking far too long.

The captain’s dying when they finally get through the door into the main room, his belly full of shrapnel as he drags himself toward a terminal against the far wall. She puts her foot on the back of his neck, tilts her head toward the terminal. Kaliyo moves toward it, pulling out a spike to transfer the data.

“Going somewhere?” To judge by his pallor he’ll bleed out soon. “I can make the pain stop, you know. All you have to do is tell me where to find Revan.”

The man coughs, looks up at her out of the corner of his eye as he stops resisting, going limp against the floor. “I don’t know-” another cough- “I don’t know where Revan is. But there’s a stronghold to the northeast, in the other valley, where they took Theron Shan. Revan might be-” he gasps, shifting under the pressure of her boot. “Please. It hurts.”

“Only for a moment,” she says, and fires a round into the back of his head.

***

Time since capture: four hours, twenty-eight minutes. Probability of survival: 83 percent.

***

The captain’s data tells them four useful things.

First, that prisoners are held in the largest building in the far valley complex, surrounded by turrets and watchtowers and military-grade door encryptions, and that the codes on the spike are yesterday’s.

Second, that Revan’s warships wait on a nearby island for a signal that hasn’t yet been given, the purpose of which is still unclear.

Third, that the First Imperial Fleet, Darth Marr at its helm, will pass through Rishi space tomorrow morning.

And fourth, that the bulk of the Republic fleet, ostensibly on a patrol mission (but who brings one’s entire fleet on a patrol mission?) along the Manda Merchant Route, is due to jump to Rishi-

“Tomorrow.” She swears, and pushes back from the terminal with a frustrated huff. “That’s Revan’s plan. They’ll come out of hyperspace right on top of each other. It’ll be a slaughter.”

Lana shakes her head. “That can’t be all of it. Darth Marr wouldn’t risk the entire fleet without at least attempting to contact the Republic commander, not this far from reinforcements, and the moment Revan puts himself in play-”

“What’s the Republic flagship? Do we know?” She paces back and forth along the inside of the little hut. “If it’s Saresh at the helm, or one of her puppets, Marr may not have a choice.”

“Unclear.” Dee-Four chimes in. “I am still attempting to decrypt the remaining files, but the information is incomplete.”

The information is incomplete- it’s the chorus to a song she just can’t get out of her head.

“Then we continue with the original plan,” Lana says, head still bowed over the console. “We attempt to extract Theron from the stronghold and hope he- or we- learned something in the meantime.”

(Did I really say that?  Lana wrinkles her nose.  Extract. Rather like a sliver. Or a parasite.

She laughs; they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and she elbows her teasingly. It’s the right word for it, technically speaking, though Theron would probably be offended by the comparison. And yes, you did.

I don’t- I didn’t mean it like that.

I know,  she says. Although he does have a knack for getting under one’s skin, doesn’t he?)

Only four kolto syringes in the bag, and another two in her belt pouch- she loads the extras in with hers, but it won’t be nearly enough. “We? You’re not going anywhere. I need Kaliyo to talk to the village leader. If they have healing supplies, buy everything you can.” She throws a credit chip across the room and Kaliyo palms it, tucks it into a pocket with a nod. “Think Corellia. And call Lokin. I need him standing by.”

Kaliyo makes a face and nods again; Lana and Jakarro simply look confused.

“I need you and Jakarro to keep running that data and try to reach the fleets,” she continues, “and I’m going to need slicing support when I hit the valley.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” Arms folded across her chest, Lana shakes her head emphatically. “Far too dangerous. If you’re captured-”

She fixes her with a flat stare as she fastens the pouch. “If I’m captured, Theron dies. Believe me, I’m well aware of the risk.”

“Cipher, please. We can’t afford to lose both of you.”

“Of course you can’t. But you ought to have thought of that before.” Turning on her heel, she leaves the hut.

***

Time since capture: five hours, forty-two minutes. Probability of survival: 71 percent.

***

She drags the guard behind the watchpost before she comms Lana. Night’s fallen over the island and he won’t be getting up again, of course- he never saw her coming and she opened his throat, quick and quiet- but there are other guards and it wouldn’t do to have one of them notice the body.

“I need to keep moving,” she whispers. “If you can get the perimeter systems offline, it’d make my life a lot easier.”

“On it. Jakarro?” There’s a rumble of assent somewhere in the background, and after a few seconds the turrets around the watchpost power down; she watches on the monitor as the rest of the system follows suit. “I’ve got schematics for the main building. Sending the file now.”

Two quick buzzes. She pulls up the diagram, flips her eyepiece down to overlay it on her vision. (She hates the eyepiece: too many people become reliant on them, forgetting how to navigate or aim or track without artificial assistance. But she can’t afford a wrong turn, not today.) “Any cameras inside? Looks like that building goes deep.”

“A few. Just a moment. I’m getting the hang of this slicing business, but- there we- oh.” Lana trails off, going quiet. “No live feeds, I’m afraid, but there are logs from the interrogation room.”

“Timestamp?”

“Half an hour ago. Should I-”

Ah, Force, if she’s already too late- “Load it.”

The feed angle’s bad, just a surveillance camera rather than a proper interrogation recording; she can barely see Theron around the robed figure standing beside the table. The volume’s low, too, nearly impossible to hear when routed through her comm, but that’s definitely his voice, shaky and pained, and someone answering from out of frame-

Lana hisses. “Revan.”

The image shudders, static cutting across the screen, and Theron screams. She knows that noise. She’s made that noise.

(I’d forgotten that recording.

I’m not surprised, she says. It’s not something most people would choose to remember.)

 Fuck.

“Get the main doors open.” She takes off across the walkway toward the main building, still stealthed but practically running, still too slow. “I’m going in.”

  ***

Time  since capture: seven hours, three minutes. Probability of survival: 58 percent.

 ***

It is not for nothing that they call her the Ghost of the Empire, and not only because she no longer has a name.

Blasters, even silenced, make noise. A hand over a mouth, a knife edge darting swiftly over arteries or a point slipping neatly between two ribs- no wasted energy, each movement precise and possessed of a morbid sort of beauty, and there is something intensely satisfying, especially on days like today, about someone else’s blood on one’s hands.

There were ten guards roaming the quiet hallways between the front door and the main control room; now there are none, the alarms still untriggered, and her exit route is clear for another forty minutes until change of watch. Sneaking past would have been faster and infinitely less messy, but even if she can reach Theron without being detected she doubts it’ll stay that way once he’s free and he’ll be slow enough, probably, without needing to fight the guards as they flee.

An ounce of preparation, as the saying goes.

If the schematics are right the holding cells should be just through this room. As she crosses the threshold, though, the holotable in its center activates and-

pressure sensor? they can’t see me maybe it’s just a guard checking in don’t make a noise don’t get caught don’t get caught

“Hello, Cipher,” Revan says. “Excellent timing. We’re just beginning to implement the last stage of the plan. You’ll be able to witness it finally come to fruition.”

Well. That’s that.

I’m sorry, Theron.

She switches off her stealth generator. “Revan. This could have all been avoided if you’d only stayed dead, you know. Where’s Theron?”

He laughs at that, the bastard. “That’s unimportant. As are you. Do you really think you can stop what’s been set in motion?”

“I’ve heard that before. Why don’t you tell me the details and we’ll see?”

Revan laughs again, a cold metallic echo behind his mask. He isn’t here, then. He’d have come for her by now if he was here. “Bold little thing. Pity. When the Republic and the Empire destroy each other, when we craft a new world out of the ashes of the old, there might have been a place for you in it. But I suspect you’d be less than cooperative.”

“Believe it or not, I tend to react badly when people try to kill my friends.” Slowly, she starts toward the door, edging little by little along the margin of the table. If she can get to the prison corridor before the alarm sounds, maybe there’s still a chance. “Your battle hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t won.”

“So stubborn. Theron couldn’t be persuaded either, though I suppose that shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Arms folded across his chest, the hologram Revan shakes his head. “Tenacity runs in our blood, even if-”

Our?

She’s almost to the far door when it slides open abruptly, the concussive edge of an explosion in the hallway beyond knocking her back against the holotable as it flickers and dies and Revan disappears. As she struggles to right herself, a cluster of blaster bolts rockets past the open door- not through; whoever’s firing isn’t aiming at her.  

Alarms in the corridor. Footsteps, too, irregular but fairly quick, moving closer, rounding the doorframe- “Don’t listen to him! There’s still a chance.”

“Theron.” How long has she been holding her breath? Suddenly, somehow, she can breathe again. “You’re alive.”

Blaster clutched in his hand, he slaps the panel beside the door and it hisses closed, the lock engaging. “Mostly. I-” He staggers, clutching at the edge of the table, his wrist ringed with a deep gouge just visible under his jacket cuff, two fingers of his left hand unbending and the angle of his thumb somehow wrong. “We’ve got to get to their signal jammer. Revan’s blocking all communication over Rishi space and he’s got saboteurs in both fleets- they’ll take down shields, weapons, everything. If we can’t warn them before they get here, it’ll be a massacre. They-” Out of breath, he trails off.

He learned something after all. Clever boy.

“That’s the piece of the puzzle we were missing. We knew about the fleets, but not the sabotage.” Force, he looks terrible. “Here. I’ve got kolto, but we’ve got to get out of here before someone realizes all the entrance guards are dead. We can update Lana and Jakarro on the move.”

Theron finally seems to see her- how he can see anything with both eyes purpled and swollen nearly shut, his nose puffy and oozing blood and his lower lip split is beyond her comprehension. “I didn’t think anyone was going to come. I got out of the restraints and grabbed my gear, figured I could make it to the front door, but I forgot about the droids-” he gasps when he tries to straighten. “Then I heard you. I should have known you’d come for me.”

That explains his thumb- with no lockpick, there’s only one good way to get out of cuffs. Reaching into her pouch for the first two kolto injectors, she crouches next to him, presses one into each of his thighs and hits the buttons. “I had to- sorry,” she says as he flinches, “I wasn’t going to leave you. Not like this. Not after what Lana did.”

“She told you?”

“Yes.“

Theron sighs. “Did she mean for this to happen?”

“No.”

“And you believe that.” He doesn’t, clearly, his mouth curling and his tone incredulous.

She chuckles, discarding the empty syringes. “I had a blaster pointed at her face. She might have been lying, but I rather doubt it.”

He blinks down at her. “You had a bl- you’re kidding.”

“Do I look-” she pulls two more syringes and sinks them home, hands him a clean cloth to hold against his bleeding mouth- “like I’m kidding?”

“Not really, no.” His color’s a little better, but only a little, and something about his posture makes her nervous. “Still, better me than you. Revan would have just killed you. He wanted me to join him, wanted me to- you heard him. Our blood. Our legacy.” When she rises he leans on her. “Fuck legacy. He’s insane.”

“You’re related to Revan.” It isn’t a question.  

Theron nods again, then stops, his eyes unfocused from too much movement. “It’s… complicated. I don’t even know how he knew. He could just tell, somehow- he got inside my head- he-”

(Did you know?

Not then. I knew of the Shan line of Jedi from my research- Theron’s grandmother Tasiele had some intriguing ideas about the Force- but it’s a common name.  Lana shakes her head.  I didn’t make the connection until I saw him with Satele.)

The entire building shakes and he stumbles again, balanced between her and the table, and a second alarm starts to shriek above the first.  Power core cooling offline. Time to detonation: five minutes.

“It can’t ever be easy, can it?” She lifts his arm over her shoulders and he gasps again, inhaling, and she can feel the shudder move beneath her through every muscle of his back. “Ready to move?”

“Easy’s for amateurs.” That might have been a wink, though it’s hard to tell with his eyelids still half-closed. “I’m ready. The generator’s two rooms over, I think, with a console. I can-” he looks to his left hand, the unmoving fingers. “I can talk you through it.”

“I’ve got you.” As they start to move she has to fight to stay upright; he’s leaning on her hard and he’s at least a hand taller than she is, but she’s got him. They don’t have a choice. “Let’s go.”

(Even after all of that, she says, we would have died if not for you.

One corner of Lana’s mouth barely moves, the faintest hint of a smile. Theron taught me some slicing, those months that we were running. Without him I wouldn’t have had any idea how to disable a power core.

Well, thank the Force for that.)

  ***

Somehow they make it to the woods, to the clearing where she’d hidden the speeder, and when Theron slumps over onto the seat she gives him the last two injections.

“If you sit behind me, can you hold on?”

“I think so. How’s your driving?” He’s still ashen, his color off; Kaliyo’d scrounged up another half-dozen doses of kolto, though, so if they can make it back to the village he should be fine. (Should be. She needs a scanner or better, Doctor Lokin, but they’ll have to get back to Raider’s Cove for that and the fleets are less than eight hours away and-

They can do this.)

She fires up the speeder, sliding onto the seat in front of him. “Lead foot and no sense of self-preservation?”

“Liar- you keep yourself alive just fine. But in that case you should take up swoop racing.” Theron’s arms slip around her waist as she takes off down the trail, his chest against her back. “Those are pretty much the only prerequisites.”

“‘m too heavy, I think. Swoop racers are all built like birds.” Looking back over her shoulder, she checks their tail. Clear, finally.

“True. I was a lot lighter,” he says into her ear, “back then.”

She laughs, though she isn’t sure he hears her over the noise of the engine. “What, some kind of SIS cover story?”

“Way before that. Misspent youth.” When they hit a tree root he winces, holding onto her tighter. “I’ll… I probably shouldn’t, but if we survive this, I’ll tell you some of the story, alright?”

“You definitely shouldn’t, but I’m holding you to that. Just a little further.”

Theron’s quiet the rest of the way back to the village, another twenty minutes’ journey over the rough forest paths, and finally, finally, she can see the narrow way up to the hut and brings the bike to a halt just in front of it.

“We’re here-” she kills the engine- “you can let go now.”

He doesn’t.

“Theron? Are you okay?”

When she turns to look at him the twisting of her body breaks his grip; he lets go and falls, sideways, toward the dirt and his eyes don’t open and she can’t catch him at this angle and-

“Lana!” Her cry echoes off the cliff faces around them and back into the valley. “Lana, I need your help.”

***

Author’s Notes:

-Another experimental chapter, sorry. I heard you like flashbacks, so I put some flashbacks in- hm. Quite enough of that.

-Per Annihilation, Theron was, in fact, a swoop bike racer at some point in his teens. I can see it.

Up next: Bright Spot, in which your exasperated author may just build voodoo dolls of these two idiots and scream NOW KISS at them until they decide to cooperate.