#Introducing him to the person who organizes the jedi files

[backpackingspace]

Listen. Listen it's a month into the clone wars and obi wan is buying Cody the good stuff(nice coffee), the council setting the clones up with jedi library access and signing them up for classes (college degrees for everyone), they're codifying their culture(they have records of everyones cultures. The clones are no different) , and teaching them that they are safe to be actual people.

[transitranger327]

The Eddy Squad File #1: Body Mods

Decided to join Trans Clone Week 2024, with this fic following the prompts “Cadets” and “Gender Affirming Technology”

Eddy Squad is an all-trans squad of Clone Commandos attached to the 187th: Spice, Convor, Terra, and Jack. This file is a disciplinary incident. Interspersed with the official report is a narrative from Jack, explaining how she realized she was trans, and how she developed a body mod for medically transitioning.

CW: Institutional Transphobia, gore-free Medical Procedures.

The fic and additional notes can be found below the cut. All dates are given in Coruscant Reckoning, they translate to roughly 26-25 BBY

Commando Group 187-C3 “Eddy Squad”—Incident Report #597

Dates involved: 7952.98.1–7952.725.4

Description: RC-3119 stole proprietary Kaminoan medical technology, modified it, and implanted it in himself herself and RC-3120 without physician supervision. Despite this, the self-inflicted “procedure” had no lasting side-effects, and subsequent evaluations have deemed them suitable to continue Commando training. 

—

It was the only option I had left. Well, it wasn’t the only option, but I was 7 and my anti-authoritarian streak was in full swing. Kinda funny for someone bred to be a soldier to have a problem with authority, but hey, I’m a Clone Commando. It’s kinda my job to be outside the norm.

Let me introduce myself. I’m Jack (the Kaminoans call me RC-3119), the Technology and Medical specialist of Eddy Squad. My sisters in the squad have been effective since the first battle of Geonosis, and we get better every mission. If you don’t know much about the GAR besides the headlines, you may be surprised by my use of “sisters”, but we clones are more than just a string of identical men. General Windu (my boss) once told me that every individual, even a clone, has their own signature in the Force. I’m not sure I believe him, but it’s certainly a hell of a lot more compelling than whatever “scientific” explanations the Kaminoans tried coming up with to explain us. For a while they just completely denied we exist, so I’m hesitant to believe their “expertise” about our own personal lives. 

Let me tell you the story about how I broke some regulations and wrote the new ones.

We first-gen clones had a slightly different upbringing than the shinies you see fighting today. No older clones to give us advice. No hands-on training with the Jedi, none of the spiritual guidance the new kids get today. And we were pretty isolated from the galaxy at large, given we were a secret project nobody knew about. So our only social contact was the Kaminoans (who kept us at arms length so we never got close to them), the mercenaries they brought in to train us (who only stayed for a year or two at most), and each other. Obviously, we were exceptionally close with our squad, but we also had plenty of contact across divisions and battalions. Beyond the loyalty to our brothers and the Republic, we basically had to develop our own society. Weird rituals were developed partially out of superstition, partly out of boredom. Our idea of family is, I suspect, very different from most beings in the Galaxy. And gender…

Most of us first-gens didn’t conceptualize our own gender until we were about 6. That might sound normal for most humans and near-humans, but remember, we age twice as fast. When we started learning about galactic cultures in the programs, we started imagining ourselves as part of a larger society. At about the same time, Eddy Squad and several other commando groups were being trained by the mercenary Sugi. And she was…everything I wanted to be. Incredibly skilled, irreverent of power structures, but believed in honor and justice. She would always say, “Never break an oath. Your skills are one thing, but if you don’t use them with honor, you’re no better than a common thug.” And she was just so effortlessly her. So I started emulating her, first skills, then philosophy. But I realized something was missing. Something…a bit more ephemeral.

—

I first met Sister in the mess hall. The 187th and the 302nd were doing basic tactics training together. I usually ate with Eddy Squad, but I’d stayed late, staring at an encyclopedia page about Zabrak society. Having grabbed my food, I noticed an open seat across from a clone with her short hair in a few braids. I ask if I can sit there. 

“Of course you can, we’re family. I’m Sister, and these are my brothers in Charger squad. Do you have a name like Colt and Bronco here? Or do you still go by your Number, like Six-Oh-Three and Two-Nine?” 

I’d never really thought about having a name back then. It hadn’t felt important. We were all numbers, cogs in the GAR machine. “Uh I’m RC-3119. But my squad are all RC-31s, so I’m usually called Nineteen”

“Ooooh boys did you hear that? We’re sitting with a future Commando. Colt, do you want anything signed?” He grumbled something about wanting to be an ARC trooper not a Commando, before Sister continued “So what brings a Commando over to a table full of regs? I thought you always stayed as a squad.”

“I stayed late at class, just kinda staring at my notes and thinking. I told the rest of Eddy Squad they could eat without me.” It was enough of the truth without saying something embarrassing.

Most of Charger squad went back to chatting amongst themselves, but Sister kept talking to me. “Staring off into the distance and thinking? Maybe about your mercenary mentors? Done that plenty of times, Nineteen. Self-reflection is a pretty good teacher.” Her implications were pretty obvious, and suddenly “Nineteen” felt incredibly, viscerally wrong. My demeanor change must’ve been obvious, because she asked, “Was that…too relatable?”

I felt the urge to whisper. “How did—how did you know?” I had never felt so seen, so exposed, not even when I kriffed up a training exercise. 

She just smiled and said, “call it a hunch. How you approached me sitting down. It was different from a curious brother.”

I don’t remember much of the rest of the conversation, but she clearly enjoyed talking with me because we remain friends to this day. After that night, I told the other Eddies I was a girl, and they were just as supportive as Charger squad was. Slowly, one by one, the rest of them came out too, until none of us were going to be the men the Jedi had ordered. But we’re still clones, so we gave each other our names.

—

7952.98.1, 1526 hours: RC-3119 submits Form 306.768 requesting Estradiol (“Request 1”) 7952.98.1, 1527 hours: Request 1 immediately rejected, as Estradiol is not on the approved medication list 7952.98.1, 1539 hours: RC-3119 again submits Form 306.768 requesting Estradiol, with slight differences (“Request 2”) 7952.98.1, 2034 hours: Junior Researcher Elo Panil reviews Request 2. He rejects Request 2 and attaches the standardized uses of Testosterone in human male development. 7952.98.2, 0921 hours: RC-3119 again submits Form 306.768 requesting Estradiol (“Request 3”), this time attached with Tag #34 (“appeal tag”) and six research papers (see Appendices Jenth–Nern) 7952.98.2, 0943 hours: Junior Researcher Elo Panil refers Request 3 to Disciplinary Committee and Genetic Council 7952.98.2, 1313 hours: Disciplinary Committee begins deliberation 7952.98.2, 1656 hours: Disciplinary Committee submits recommendation “to threaten decommission” to Genetic Council  7952.98.2, 1738 hours: Genetic Council tables discussion of Request 3 7952.98.3, 1000 hours: Genetic Council continues discussion of Request 3 7952.98.3, 1855 hours: Genetic Council tables discussion of Request 3 7952.98.4, 1030 hours: Genetic Council continues discussion of Request 3 7952.98.4, 1223 hours: Genetic Council votes 5-4 against Request 3 7952.98.4, 1911 hours: Chief Scientist Nala Se formally rejects Request 3

—

Puberty is hell for most humans and those adjacent, but when you have to go thru it twice as fast, it really sucks. Even worse when you go thru the wrong one. By the time testosterone had really started kicking in, I was done. I knew from the anatomy programs that humans could easily change their sex by simply changing what hormones were coursing thru their veins, so I set my heart on that.

Little did I know how much trouble I would get into. But even knowing, I still wouldn’t change a thing.

One of the most common forms I have to fill out on a daily basis is Form 306.768: Requisition for Medical Supplies. While the glamor of the field medic comes from patching up people and keeping everyone alive in the fight, that’s the easy part. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug for both treated and treater. No, most of my actual mental load as a medic is spent filling out forms. It’s still just as boring as when I started my med training (but not boring enough that I can do it on autopilot). But you can always fill it out for personal requests, and for most clones it’s actually sleeping pills to deal with insomnia. 

So 7-year-old me, Med trainee dealing with hellish puberty, thinks “why not fill out 306.768 to request estrogen?” Honestly, it’s kind of hilarious I thought it would be that easy back then. So I diligently filled out the form, and pressed submit. 

The initial rejection was so fast, I thought it was an error. 

So I went over my formatting, changed a few words to make sure it didn’t get flagged as a duplicate, and resubmitted it. 

It took a few hours to get the rejection notice this time. At least this time, it had some reasons attached. “Testosterone improves muscle mass and other athletic abilities. Eliminating it would decrease the effectiveness of a soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic.” 

I was fuming. You know what else decreases the effectiveness of a soldier? Hating yourself and your body so much you don’t want to do anything besides run away and cry. 

But by the next day, I was able to pull myself together enough to send in the form again, this time with a detailed explanation of why I needed estrogen, along with multiple research papers from across the galaxy showing why estrogen does not decrease athletic effectiveness. 

This rejection notice took several days to arrive, and was apparently written by Nala Se herself. I had been holding out one last hope that someone on the research team would finally understand, but apparently none of them saw the value of soldiers outside their own ideals. There was even a veiled threat about being 99’d.

That’s when I knew I had to take matters into my own hands. Embrace the Slicer lifestyle. I had gotten the name “Jack” from being able to plug into any computer jack (and I mean any, not just the standard droid ports) and extract the information I needed. I had already sliced into the Holonet at large and began importing culture beyond the carefully curated media the Kaminoans liked to show us. I’m honestly not sure why they tried keeping so much from us, that kind of exposure made me fall in love with every part of the Republic, not just the Core. The Taris undercity, in particular, put out some of the best techno music and some of the greatest Slicer philosophers. Those that embraced the freedom and self-expression of doing it yourself, rather than just seeing slicing as a technical skill. 

And now it was my turn.

The Kaminoans had some old research on creating organic computers from human tissue. I’m honestly not sure why they didn’t progress further on it, it seemed light-years ahead of the the rest of the galaxy’s biotech research. The process for growing a chip seemed simple enough, and the programming of “create xesh amount of estradiol each day” wouldn’t be much harder. Only problem was, the tech needed to grow one would not be easily requisitioned. 

So I did the only logical thing: steal it.

Okay, it was more like borrowing, because I was never planning on keeping it forever, but the higher-ups would almost certainly see it as stealing. I was going to copy the specs too, and see if I could build one myself (and improve on it). Ironic that we call all of it slicing, when this would be the first slice I did that involved literally slicing into something using a scalpel. 

—

7952.306.5, 2357 hours: during routine inventory of Genetics Lab 45-23, a B37D cell programmer was reported as missing 7952.307.1, 0630 hours: inspections looking for the B37D cell programmer find it at 187-C3’s computer terminal. All 4 members brought in for questioning separately.  7952.307.1, 0645 hours: blood tests reveal both RC-3119 and RC-3120 have Estradiol and Testosterone levels consistent with human girls at their biological age. RC-3121 and RC-3122 have hormone levels consistent with other clones. A Disciplinary Committee meeting is called into session. 7952.307.1, 1230 hours: despite refusing to offer information about the stolen B37D, RC-3121 and RC-3122 are released to their programs 7952.307.1, 1300 hours: RC-3119 and RC-3120 are placed in the same room in an attempt to elicit answers from both

—

For more context in the rest of this story, I need to introduce you to the leader of Eddy Squad, and my partner in crime for this escapade, Spice (aka RC-3120). She’s been basically been our leader since we first learned how to walk and talk. She can talk her way out of pretty much any situation, and can fight out of the rest of them. Her hand-to-hand skills were top of every chart on Kamino, and it translated onto the battlefield: her preferred weapon these days is an electrostaff she took from a MagnaGuard she destroyed (that little stunt got her promoted to Lieutenant). But above all, she doesn’t break anyone’s trust; she never shares a secret. This is both highly valued by Republic Intelligence and loathed by GAR Police. 

She’s also the second member of Eddy Squad to come out. While I’m pretty masculine despite being a woman, she’s deep into her femininity. So when I told her that I was planning on modding myself, she wanted in too. 

Stealing the cell programmer was easy enough. There was a genetics lab storage closet that had a spare programmer, and as a Med trainee, I had access to the science levels. I went after one of my programs on the level. I stayed a bit late to “finish up” my report, then when nobody was looking, I went to the genetics lab. The outer lock was easy enough to slice into, and the storage space still had its door left open. And security recordings wouldn’t’ve caught me either, I had set up a basic recording loop as I walked to the lab. After grabbing it, I simply dropped it off at our squad’s terminal (it was small enough I could put it in an empty drawer). 

To build a bio-computer for humans, you first need human stem cells. They’re easy enough to acquire, as bone marrow is full of them. After a simple extraction, I placed the cells into the programmer’s gel matrix (thankfully, it used a standard bacta gel so I wouldn’t have to requisition anything suspicious). I had already written the necessary code, so the programmer got to work growing the bio-implant. It would function as an artificial organ, responding to other hormone levels to produce healthy amounts of E. And after about a week, it was fully grown and ready for implantation.

Spice and I were the only ones awake for it. We didn’t want to implicate anyone else, have anyone else suffer consequences. I made a small incision with a plasma scalpel into the skin on the side my rib cage, where two parts of Katarn-class armor would overlap. Wouldn’t want a lucky shot from a clanker to damage it. As Spice held the gel matrix, I used a pincer to extract my hard work from it. She asked, “You ready? There’s no going back.” 

“There never was.”

I gently tucked the mod underneath the skin flap, and closed it up with microsutures. The thin film of bacta on the implant caused it to instantly integrate with my body. I felt an immediate thrill. Brand-new blood vessels branched off of my existing ones, and fused with the pre-grown capillaries of the mod. A rush of new cells growing around the chip making it a part of me. I swear I could feel it come to life. That’s when I knew, I was finally becoming myself. 

Spice clearly saw I was enjoying myself. “Girl, when you come down off that high, I’m gonna need you to start growing one for me.” She disposed of the used gel matrix, and started preparing a new one as I slowly came back to my senses. She had planned to wait for a week and see how I felt first, but it seemed like that had gone out the viewport.

As I got up, I grabbed the autosyringe. “You sure you don’t want to wait and see how this goes for me?” I ask her. “I might’ve messed up something in the process.” 

She turns to me, “Jack, I’ve seen your slicing and medic skills. There’s no one I trust more to do this than you.” I see the warmth in her eyes. The same brown eyes as me, but somehow even more like my own than anyone else. “We’re sister, we’re in this together. I don’t want to be an accomplice if I can’t have all the benefits.” As she smiles, I stab the autosryinge into her hip and pull out a bone marrow sample. “Hey! That hurt!”

I turn to the programmer and offer, “it hurts less if you don’t expect it.” I place the sample into the tray and start the mod program once again, and feel a new era for clones beginning.

—

It was a couple months before anyone discovered what was amiss. A few other clones (Sister and few others she had befriended) expressed interest, but none were ready to commit to the implant. A few tried (and failed) to use Form 306.768, but most were content to just be socially accepted as they were. Not from the aiwha-bait (they still called us men), but from our brothers. 

It was early one morning when an unannounced inspection took place. These were annoying, but not usually a problem. Most clones seem to have an unshakeable need to be tidy. This time, they were looking for something specific—the cell programmer. As soon as they found it in our terminal drawer, they hauled all four of us off for questioning. Separately. I’d worried about this for some time now, but not that much. The only way they could punish us is what they would probably do anyway if I hadn’t done this and instead fell apart as a soldier.

I’m not sure how long they tried the separate questioning, but it was probably hours. They alternated between questioning me about my sex, and weird unrelated questions about brain research. I refused to give them any straight answers. Then Spice was brought into the room with me. “Don’t worry Jack, I didn’t tell them anything,” she said with a smile. I doubt even the most advanced interrogator droids could’ve gotten anything out of her. 

Then someone new entered. One of our mercenary instructors, Mirta Rau, a Mandalorian Protector, apparently an old friend of our distant father. As she sat down, she took off her helmet and we got an up-close look at her piercing blue eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re not in any serious trouble. Most of this is pure bluster on your creators’ part.” She somehow reclined in the extremely rigid chair. “Just tell us the truth, and the worst you’ll get is extra programs for punishment.” She winked, “maybe even more training with me.”

It was a tempting proposition. The slicer ethic was, after all, that all information should be free. Why was I trying to even hide my slices from them? Then I remembered they consider us property that can be disposed of at any time. I turn to Spice and whisper, “do you think she’s telling the truth?”

She thought for a second then whispered back, “she’s never lied to us before. I’m pretty sure deception like this is against the Mandalorian creed or something.”

Mirta, apparently hearing us, leaned in. “I’ve seen your scores and your skills. If they do kick you out or try to dispose of you, I’ll make sure you two have a place on Concord Dawn. Being punished for living as yourself is downright heresy in our culture.”

It was enough assurance that I laid it out for her. The 306.768 rejections, how I was never planning on selling the programmer and only wanted to use it to help my sisters, and how Spice and I have been using the mod for months and our scores have only gone up. I just hoped it was enough.

“Wow.” Mirta Rau was stunned. “I can’t believe that’s what they’ve been mistreating you for.” She paused for a moment. “Thank you for your honesty, Jack. I’ll make sure you two are treated well.” She got up, donned her helmet, and left. 

The two of us had to wait another hour or two before we learned of our fates.

—

7952.307.1, 1313 hours: Instructor Mirta Rau questions the cadets. RC-3119 explainshisher actions. 7952.307.1, 1342 hours: Instructor Mirta Rau advocates for RC-3119 and RC-3120 at the Disciplinary Committee meeting.  7952.307.1, 1604 hours: Disciplinary Committee submits recommendation to “temporarily restrict privileges, confiscate stolen equipment, and increase program load” to Director of Clone Training Ko Sai. 7952.307.1, 1705 hours: Director Ko Sai officially releases RC-3119 and RC-3120 7952.307.1, 1730 hours: Junior Researcher Elo Panil submits a recommendation for “frequent blood tests” to Director Ko Sai 7952.433.4, 0931 hours: Blood tests of RC-3119 and RC-3120 continue to be within normal range for human girls at their biological age. 7952.725.4, 0829 hours: Blood tests of RC-3119 and RC-3120 continue to be within normal range for human girls at their biological age. This incident is considered officially closed.

Next Steps: Continue to Monitor RC-3119 and RC-3120 for future medical issues and further conduct unbecoming of a soldier. Occasional questioning about research is permitted.

Addendum #597-01: Further questioning may lead to RC-3119 to discover the true nature of the Clone Inhibitor Chip, and should be discontinued. He She does not seem to be aware of our classified research (Added 7953.22.3)

Addendum #597-02: In accordance with Clone Gender Directive 1, RC-3119’s pronouns have been corrected. The medical implant she created should be used as template for other, similar clones. Contact Nala Se for further information. (Added 7954.12.3)

—

Notes: I have detailed character profiles and armor designs for all 4 members of Eddy Squad. I’ll post them here at some point. The squad name comes from eddies in water currents/fluid dynamics. Also, while I have read Queen’s Hope (which introduced Sister), I’ve not yet read Brotherhood, so I don’t know her exact division. I’m just assuming the 302nd Battalion (which she is part of) and Rancor Battalion (which is led by Colt) are other battalions of the 7th Sky Corps (along with the famous 212th), which is why Obi-Wan is Sister’s General. Mirta Rau is an OC, she’s Fenn Rau’s sister and a fellow Protector.

[geodax]

📓

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

There's this modern AU I've been thinking about (but will probably never get around to writing) where at the beginning, Obi-Wan is a journalist in hiding after a very... unfortunate encounter with Maul. He has difficulties walking and other complications from Maul’s work.

While in hiding under the name Ben, he meets Cody, who works in the Mandalorian embassy in DC. Obi-Wan is initially very suspicious - there’s a lot of people looking for him and he’s afraid to let anyone close again - but slowly he starts to let Cody in. It’s all fluffy and sweet for a while, but then Obi-Wan’s past catches up to him and eventually Obi-Wan has to reveal who he is to Cody.

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan under his wing in college and introduced him to the Jedi, a group/society that exists throughout the world to help people. They have their own language and tattoos so that they can identify each other. The Jedi live as teachers, doctors, activists, advocates, diplomats, etc. There are a few politicians too though most Jedi stay out of the limelight. They'll pool their resources when needed, but most Jedi function as individuals or pairs. Masters recruit apprentices as they see fit, teaching them the language and Jedi tenets - which are pretty similar to what it is in canon (selflessness, compassion, service, etc.) Most Jedi only ever meet a dozen other Jedi in their lifetime. It's a lot looser an organization than it is in canon.

So with Qui-Gon as a mentor, Obi-Wan became a journalist. He traveled all over the world, stepping on the toes of bad people, saving lives, generally trying to do the most good he can. Qui-Gon traveled with him for a while before retiring back to the college he found Obi-Wan at.

Things go well for a while, but then Qui-Gon is murdered. He was investigating a mysterious organization called the Sith and was killed for getting too close, though Obi-Wan doesn’t know that at first. Obi-Wan tries to pick up where Qui-Gon’s investigation left off, but the trail goes cold. He takes Qui-Gon's apprentice, Anakin, as his own. They become an excellent team of investigative journalists. (Obi-Wan and Anakin are closer in age in this AU). Ahsoka joins them too at some point as a photographer.

Obi-Wan continues to investigate the Sith, who are also trying to investigate the Jedi after they discovered Qui-Gon's investigation. Obi-Wan starts to investigate the Oppress Gang, who he thinks might be involved with the Sith. He breaks into one of the gang’s house, where he finds the files that have a lot of evidence about the Sith and their records. He is so distracted that he doesn’t notice Savage Oppress sneaking up behind him and is knocked out.

Maul figures out Obi-Wan is a Jedi and realizes that Jedi don’t work alone, so he shoots Obi-Wan’s knees, then drags him to a secondary location before Anakin can come to his aid.

Maul tortures Obi-Wan for information on the Jedi, eventually revealing that he was the one that killed Qui-Gon. Anakin eventually gets the FBI involved and they raid building, freeing Obi-Wan and arresting Maul.

But Obi-Wan can’t go back to being a journalist. Maul knows who he is now and could probably send other Sith after him, so Obi-Wan starts distancing himself from the Jedi. The damage Maul did to him is too great for him to continue his high risk work and he has lots of powerful enemies that he made as a journalist. So he goes into hiding.

Cody is fairly somewhat freaked out by everything and definitely a little terrified, but he still cares about Obi-Wan and wants to help him stay alive. Eventually, things come to a head. Cody is captured by Maul, who is still trying to learn about the Jedi, but is more upset with Obi-Wan for killing Savage during the rescue, so it is personal this time. Maul uses Cody as bait to lure Obi-Wan into a trap. Cody makes a few unsuccessful escape attempts, but during that, finds out about his own family ties to the Sith, via his father, Jango, who had been working for them for years. Jango wants Cody to join him and continue his work as a mercenary and work profiteer.

Anyway, there’s an epic final confrontation, lots of whump - yes, I know its probably unnecessary, but that’s how I roll - and eventually both Cody and Obi-Wan are safe. They hand off the rest of the investigation to the Jedi and decide to settle down together.

But Palpatine is still out there. And Anakin - as well as several other Jedi - have revealed themselves in the process of rescuing Cody and Obi-Wan from Maul. I haven’t decided where things go from here, but mostly it just goes from bad to worse for Obi-Wan, Cody, and the Jedi.

[greyias]

@shanfamilydrama​​ asked:

Also I'm 👀👀 for more Grey Dantooine backstory/headcanons, pretty please!

Ask and ye shall receive! So I have this document in my sprawling, semi-organized SWTOR Scrivener file titled “Highwind Family History” that I apparently created *checks date* in May of 2017. And it is somehow over 4400 words long. (I will spare everyone and not copy pasta the thing). But it is interesting how pieces of 6.3 do dovetail into many aspects of it!

So, in fic form, I’ve hinted at Grey’s backstory, and talked about aspects of it here and there, but the entire story hasn’t come out yet -- mostly because it comes as a reveal in the story introducing her brother Draike, as part of an explanation on why their relationship is so strained and antagonistic.

But the TL;DR version of it is:

Grey was born on Dantooine, the second of Davin Onasi and Vainas Highwind’s three children. She grew up in the small farming community of the Khoonda Plains, in the wide countryside where an abandoned Jedi Enclave always loomed on the horizon. In some ways, the ruins always called to her, tantalizing and mysterious, promising adventure.

From the moment Vainas told little Grey of the Force and her adventures as a Jedi during the Great Galactic War, the little girl decided she would become a Jedi. In the way that some children want to grow up to be firefighters, Grey dreamed of being a hero just like her mother, of venturing out into the galaxy and saving the day. Lightsabers sounded so cool, the Force so amazing, it had to be her destiny. Why be a farmer when you could wield a laser sword? 

Her mother taught her the basics of the Force, mostly boring meditation. She dutifully attended those lessons, in the hopes that one day her mother would teach her the more advanced things. And maybe she’d have her own lightsaber and go on adventures too!

And then one fateful day, she got her wish.

(or, as a small snippet from an extensively reworked piece I wrote a few years put it:)

Grey took another deep breath in, feeling the warmth and surety of the Force as she followed its pull towards the old ruins of the abandoned Jedi Enclave. It was technically against the rules to be here, she’d been told time and time again that the area was off limits — too ancient and dangerous to be explored unescorted. But just as many times that her mother had warned her away from the ruins, she’d also talked about the importance of listening to and obeying the will of the Force. And so if the Force knew everything, then maybe it knew when there was an exception to her mother’s rules. And today the Force was practically singing from the ruins, telling her to follow her mother’s impossibly tall Togruta Jedi friend. Every step she took, she could feel the deep voice of the universe beckoning her further. Humming on some inaudible frequency that today was finally the day.

Her adventure as a Jedi was about to begin.

The Togruta Jedi mentioned here is Thyos Dae, and Vainas’s former Padawan. You see, Thyos came to Dantooine because of an Ancient Artifact McGuffin I hadn’t quite figured out, and had meant to beat a Sith and his followers there to remove said McGuffin from the Enclave. However, he gets sidetracked almost as soon as he lands, meeting up with his old Master (whom he thinks of like an older sister) in the marketplace. Vainas invites Thyos to stay with them since they live close enough to the ruins to give him a home base of sorts.

And so over the next few days, he divides his time between the ruins, and catching up with Vainas and bonding with her family. Until one of those days at the ruins, he finds he’s been followed by a curious little girl who is not as good at hiding as she thinks she is. Being a responsible adult, he resigns himself to escorting little Grey back, but on the way, something... feels wrong. So wrong, at one point, Grey stops heeding his advice and starts running.

And by the time they get back to the Highwind homestead, the house is ablaze--and the yard is littered with bodies. Of Davin. Of Vainas. And several felled attackers.

While he was away, that (currently unnamed) Sith had finally tracked down where the mysterious Togruta from the marketplace was staying, thinking that said McGuffin Artifact might be there. There were individuals strong in the Force inside, so to them it made sense to attack first, and ask questions later.

Curiously, the two Highwind boys are nowhere to be found -- and the search for them becomes Thyos’s personal mission. As well as taking care of the now orphaned Force sensitive child who is desperately shaking her mother’s body in an attempt to wake her.

Thyos, of course, feels responsible for all of the children. He feels that this is his fault, that he led his adversary here -- and he spends the rest of his life trying to do his best to parent all three of them in Vainas’s stead. 

Grey takes away a different lesson, though. She’d disobeyed her mother -- and in doing so was robbed of seeing her again, of ever getting to say goodbye. She had ignored the rules, and somehow, this is what happened when someone broke the rules. If she never disobeyed again, if she followed every single rule, then maybe no one she loved would ever die again. If she became the perfect Jedi, if she focused every bit of herself on that, then she could make it up to her mother.

And maybe if she was good enough... one day the Force would bring them back together. Because there is no death, there only is the Force. Or so she was told. And so she would tell herself every time she recited the Jedi Code.

This is of course, just the rationalizations of a traumatized child who has just lost her entire world. Trying to make sense of what is ultimately a senseless act. Outside of herself, no one would begin to blame her for something that is obviously completely out of her control. And so she creates this perfect ideal of a Jedi in her mind, a child’s idea of a hero that she never really shakes, even as an adult. It may not be who the Jedi really are--and she may rationalize anything to the contrary of this fragile world view. 

(Granted, the events at the end of Chapter 2 do a pretty good job of shattering that on their own. But I mean, at that point she’s COMMITTED.)

WHICH... brings us to 6.3! And with all of the above in mind, why this dialogue exchange unexpectedly punched me right in the feels.

Like I know it’s not the exact same, but as I was going through that scene, all I could think of was that Grey was not thinking about the events of KOTOR 1 or 2, but her first attempted, ill-fated trip to the ruins. (Something that she might have been thinking about the entire time, but trying to push to the back of her mind.) She thinks of the strange pull the Enclave had on her as a child, she thinks of the pain and suffering, the senseless deaths that were connected to this place.

Not the lives ended by an orbital bombardment, but the lives of two people she misses very much, even to this day.

And yet... she continues to walk further into the ruins, and closer to the darkness that Malgus has unleashed inside. Because she’s still not convinced she’s done enough, still hasn’t measured up against that childish ideal quite enough to make her mother proud.

[moreinfinite]

Gravity (Steve x Reader) Series

A/N- I’M BACKKKKKKK! After taking a personal break I am back with a new series. I have no idea how many parts it will be or what will even happen but right now I am enjoying writing sooo thats what I am going to do!

Pairing- Steve x Reader

Words- 2k

Warning- PTSD mention and some serious angst. It will get fluffy later I promise!

The early morning air was cold against your bare cheeks, causing them to become rosy. You leaned on the railing of your apartment balcony taking a large sip of now lukewarm coffee. Your eyes shut you breathed in the scent of the fresh rain against the pavement below, a smell you have become quite fond of since you found yourself in Seattle. Every fiber of your being loved this time of morning, just before the sun peeked out over the horizon and the world below you was quiet. You opened your eyes and took another breath. This was going to be a long month.

You hadn’t been an official member of the Avengers long, maybe six months or so but you had been living on the base for at least a year and a half. Banner had been running extensive tests to make sure you were stable enough to join the team, let alone the rest of society. You were a HYDRA experiment, for three years you had been poked and prodded against your will being forcefully turned into a weapon. A SHIELD Agent who was sold out by a partner and it landed you in the hands of an organization that many other believed didn’t exist anymore; but not even years of SHIELD training could prepare you for the constant hell you were put through by HYDRA scientists. They tore you apart and put you back together again, they injected you with chemicals, changed your DNA and molecular structure to create a “weapon for the ages” but you felt like a monster.

The torment felt like it lasted an eternity until one day it came to a screeching halt when the world’s mightiest heroes came barging through the main gates of the facility. You watched as a tall blond man removed your restraints, his blue eyes so striking but all the same warm and inviting. For all your life, the first thing you had noticed about a person was their eyes, it allowed you to read people judge their true intentions. You could tell by one look that this man was here to help. He swept you into his arms, pulling you deep into his chest.

He could feel you shake against him as he moved. He spoke softly, “It’s okay, you are safe now.”

With those words resting in the back of your mind, your eyes began to flutter letting the gentle swaying lull you to sleep.

When you finally awoke you found yourself attached to more machinery, your instant response was to fight. The memories flooded over you, making your blood turn cold. A warm hand touched your cheek and brought you back to reality. You found those same blue eyes fixated on you, this time joined by two new pair. A brown set, perfectly framed behind a set of oval rimmed glasses where he stood in the back writing something down on a clipboard he held in his hands; and gray pair of eyes, you could see the hurt leftover from something terrible hiding within held together by a smile. You held your eyes shut, trying to wrap your head around what exactly was going on.

The blond man spoke again, “There she is,” He was hushed, a tone you would save for a small child. “It’s good to see you again Agent 17, I know you are probably really confused but let me catch you up to speed.” He smiled warmly before taking your hand in his, as a last ditch effort to try and comfort you. “I’m Steve and this here is Bucky,” He nudged the man next to him, the one with the broken eyes. “And that back there is Bruce, we are here to help you.”

You cleared your throat, it was weak and dry but you managed to get some audible words out. “Where am I? How do you know who I am?”

This time Bruce came over, “Sorry about that Agent 17, you are currently at the Avenger’s Facility in upstate New York. We know who you are because he have accessed your SHIELD file.”

SHIELD. That part of you felt like a lifetime ago.

“Please just call me (Y/N).” Your voice barely over a whisper

“Well (Y/N) have you always been able to manipulate objects with your mind?” Bruce arched his eyebrow.

You gave him a puzzled look, before he pointed at a lamp across the room that was floating rather than sitting nicely a top the desk. Your eye’s widened, clearly unaware of what the HYDRA scientists were actually up to.

Bruce walked over and grabbed your other hand, “Don’t worry we will figure this out.” He smiled softly and the corners of his eyes began to crease. He was genuine.

You gave the man a quick nod and let him get back to work. Steve and Bucky moved out into the hallway when a new man came in, another pair of brown eyes and a styled goatee to match. He introduced himself as Tony. He was a confident man, the polar opposite of Bruce; loud and in your face but an eagerness to help. So you let him.

After a few hours of testing they had moved you to a common area as they waited for results. Bruce gave you the remote and left you to it, it had been ages since you have even held a remote let alone watched television. You stared up at the blank screen, wishing you remembered how to work the damn thing.

You could sense someone was behind you, instinctively you reacted sending the nearest object hurdling at them.

“Ow,” You finally looked and found Bucky rubbing the side of his head, a broken remote lay at his feet.

You stood up instantly trying to apologize, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. It’s just you scared the crap out of me and I...”

He grabbed your shoulders and your mouth instantly snapped shut. “(Y/N), it’s okay. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. I of all people should have known that.” He swiftly tucked you in under his arm and made his way towards the couch. “Let’s get you all situated again.” He found a throw blanket in a nearby ottoman and wrapped in gently around your shoulders. “Your reflexes are spot on, I can definitely see that SHIELD training coming out.”

You sat down on the couch, your hands fumbling in your lap. You stared at them.

Bucky sat down next to you and lightly grabbed your shoulder. “Hey, I know it’s a lot right now but you can do it. You can make it through.”

You finally looked up at him, his gray eyes were softer now much more inviting than before. “How do you know that?”

“Because I have been there.” He looked down almost ashamed before he looked back up at you. “HYDRA made me into something I am not, they made me their weapon.” He rolled up his sleeve to show you the metal peeking out behind it. “I know what they did to you, they did it to me. But I am not going to let it consume you like it did me. I have your back (Y/N). We are in this together.”

Your eyes began to water as he pulled you into his chest. You felt a flood of emotions rush over you, and in that moment it felt okay for you to let them all out. From that moment on Bucky had your back, he was your saving grace during your recovery period. He was your rock as you tried to piece back together who you were and who your are now.

Bucky threw on a Tangled, something fun to try and lighten the situation. Your head was in his lap when Tony, Bruce, and Steve walked in. You both turned around to face them,

Bruce looked concerned while in contrast Tony’s face was lit up like a Christmas Tree.

“Looks like we have ourselves and In-House Jedi.” Tony rubbed his hands together. “Our own Luke Skywalker in our midst.”

You and Bucky shared a confused look before he spoke up, “Tony what the hell are you talking about?”

Bruce sat down on the coffee table across from you, rubbing his chin trying to find the best way to explain your new found abilities in layman's terms. “So (Y/N), we have done a few tests to try and pinpoint exactly what caused the phenomena in the lab. We had a hunch it was some sort of telekinesis but we were off, you have gravitokinesis.”

“Gravito-what?” You blinked your eyes trying to comprehend what just came out of the scientists mouth.

“Gravitokinesis; you have the ability to create, shape and manipulate gravity. We want to do a few more studies to evaluate your exact power spectrum, but once we get a handle on this and you finish recovering you can do whatever you please.” Bruce smiled. “We are here to help.”

That was then and things have changed so much since. You had spent the next year and a half mastering your new abilities, and brushing up on your espionage skills. From the very beginning the whole team wanted you on board, so it seemed almost natural to join. All you had ever known was SHIELD and HYDRA, a life as a civilian seemed foreign to you so you felt it was in your best interest to stay. Wanda and Bruce helped you find tune your gravitokinesis, while Natasha and Bucky trained you in combat mixing their styles to find the perfect blend tailored just to you. For the first time in a long time you finally felt like you belonged again, but something still felt like it was missing.

The sun was finally making it’s way over the horizon, so you decided that was your cue to head back inside. The apartment was dark, night still held its presence as you walked into the living room. You sat down on the couch and opened the case file that was sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Your first undercover mission in half a decade, you had been on smaller group missions since becoming an official Avenger but THIS, this was your first serious mission and you were determined not to blow it.

Steve was your undercover partner, a system Natasha created as a safety precaution; she was not going to have another Bucharest on her hands. Bucky opposed, insisting to let him accompany you. He felt this overwhelming need to try and protect you because when he looked at you he saw himself.

“Come on Nat, it’s her first undercover mission in almost 5 years let me go with her.” He pleaded

“Bucky, she needs to know she can do this on her own. For the past year you have acted as her security blanket, she needs you to let her be independent. Besides it’s not like one of us aren’t going to be with her. She will be safe.” Natasha reached out to grab his hand. “We all know what she means to you.”

Steve moved in and wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “I’ll go with her. I found her, it is my responsibility to keep her safe.” He smiled at his best friend before pulling him in for a hug.

The man with the deep blue eyes, the eyes that haunt your dreams every night, the man who saved you. His purpose, to keep you safe. To be your gravity.

TAG LIST IS OPEN

@avengedwritings @formyfandoms

[stillpracticingmetoo]

Epilogue 1, Feel (W)hole

Asking for a friend.  Which one of AdventHealth's CEO's, Terry Shaw or Darryl Tol, signed off on the marketing campaign using the words "Feel Whole," knowing since 2018 that a member of the medical staff repeatedly sexually assaulted me as a child by putting his ungloved finger in my rectum on multiple occasions while treating me for a knee injury?

Feel (w)hole.  Two words I read this afternoon on street signs when I arrived for a meeting called by AdventHealth following the publication of my story. The request from the legal department was that I come in to meet to discuss a "solution that works for you, and us and the community." Feel (w)hole.  The words were stretched across banners in the lobby of the organization's executive office building in downtown Orlando, right underneath the organization's mission of "extending the healing ministry of Christ." Now I've read the Bible passage where Jesus licked his fingers and stuck them in the ears of a deaf man to restore his hearing, but this might be a stretch. Feel (w)hole. Two words next to AdventHealth's logotype that quickly evoked the image of the headshot of Dr. William P. Zink I found when Googling his name in the fall of 2017 when I remembered the repressed memory of being sexually assaulted and molested as a child by him under the guise of medical care 30 years ago. Heart racing. Brow sweating. Room spinning. Wondering if this was a mistake. "With a personalized greeting like that, who wouldn't feel welcome," came a booming voice from across the lobby. I turned to see the smiling face of my childhood friend and local Orlando attorney who agreed to join me for this meeting.  "They probably should have run that one by someone with a 13 year old's sense of humor before spending millions to plaster it all over town," he said.  "Fucking idiots.  Let's go see what they have to say." Walking into the executive conference room at AdventHealth's headquarters, I was immediately grateful for my decision to bring an attorney as I was met by four people -- a health system executive, a member of the legal department, outside counsel and the organization's new president of the medical staff . . . who used to be my own primary care doctor.  For a moment, I thought that this was the ultimate mindscrew, and hoped that this was just an odd coincidence. Curiously absent from this meeting were the two people I had contacted in 2018 and 2020, AdventHealth CEO, Terry Shaw, and AdventHealth Central Florida CEO, Daryl Tol.  If the priest and the Levite couldn't make the meeting, I was hoping that at least one of the people in the room would be the Good Samaritan I needed to hear from.  Beyond the kindness expressed by my old doctor, I would have no such luck. After exchanging pleasantries, I was asked to offer my perspective about what this reluctant cabal could do to help.  "I was thinking you might be able to tell me, since you called the meeting," I responded.   Silence.  For a full minute. Sensing my frustration, my attorney shot me a knowing Jedi-mind-trick glance and gave me a nod, prompting the following. "What is the business purpose for AdventHealth maintaining a relationship with Dr. Zink," I asked?   "It's complicated," they replied, followed by a longwinded explanation of the bylaws and rules governing relationships with medical staff, versus the contracts maintained with members of the medical group, the division of authority between corporate and legal and the medical staff, and medical staff credentialing. Luckily both Stephanie and I grew up in medical households and had prior work experience in healthcare philanthropy, so I had a basic understanding of this byzantine arrangement designed to protect corporate assets, doctors egos, and hopefully, a few patients along the way.  Frankly, this all sounded like bureaucratic bullshit, with no hint of common sense. "How long has Dr. Zink been on the medical staff," I asked? "Since the 1980's," they answered. "What is the average annual revenue that AdventHealth makes from a pediatric orthopedic surgeon who is credentialed and given privileges to perform surgery in one of your hospitals," I asked? "I do not know that number off hand," the president of the medical staff replied. I asked the same question of the health system executive who responded, "Well, leaving money out of it, a busy pediatric orthopedic surgeon probably performs around 400 surgeries annually.  Dr. Zink was probably performing 10 percent of that volume in the last year." 10 percent of 400.  That's 40 patients each year during the two years since I contacted Terry Shaw and Daryl Tol.  80 kids.  Statistics are that 1 in 6 of these children will be sexually assaulted before they turn eighteen years old.  That's 13 kids treated by Dr. William P. Zink between 2018 and 2020 who, statistically speaking, may be victims of sexual assault.  If I were CEO of AdventHealth, would I take a chance that 13 kids who received surgery in my hospital system would be introduced to a guy whose public reputation from a Google search would not qualify him as a volunteer for the public library or the babysitting service offered by the local church? Hell no.  But it's complicated. Before attending this meeting, I ran my questions by a few friends. Some had experience in healthcare, and others were just hardworking businesspeople with years of tough decisions under their belts.  I tested two of the observations out on the crowd. "One buddy of mine suggested his perception that this is purely about business and money.  Zink is 'damaged goods' and AdventHealth can get him to perform surgery for as little as they can and keep the spread between what they pay him and what they bill insurance," I offered. "Absolutely not," the health system executive protested. "I know Terry Shaw and Daryl Tol, and I can assure you that they are good men who would never put money before patient safety or quality."  A breathless reply before she had to excuse herself from this important meeting to go catch an airplane. "Another buddy of mine suggested his perception that this might have more to do with the organizations faith-based mission.  Perhaps they are trying to show forgiveness and give Zink a second chance," I suggested. The president of the medical staff spoke up and offered what I find to be the one noble point of view of the whole meeting.  "My number one priority is patient care and safety," he said. "While there are bylaws and rules, I can assure you that your story will be considered the next time Dr. Zink's petition for privileges is reviewed. Nothing about what you've shared aligns with our mission of extending the healing ministry of Christ."   I might have been satisfied to end there, but the outside counsel chimed in with an odd request. "Perhaps you might help us by encouraging the few people who you have heard from since publishing your story to come forward and file their own complaint?" Do you mean the busy mom whose son was injured in a weekend sporting event who Dr. Zink offered to pick up in his own car to drive to an exam on a Sunday? "While it was creepy," she said to me, "I don't think it qualifies as abuse."  No, it's called grooming. Or do you mean the childhood friend who lives out of the country and has more than a decade of recovery from alcoholism and cocaine addiction under his belt who called me on Sunday to tell me that Dr. Zink drugged and sodomized him when he was 14 years old?  "I called to tell you I am glad that you are telling your story," he said to me.  "My recovery requires that I leave that in the past. I am healing, one day at a time and all I want to put into the world is my art and love."  I respect that, my brother. I love you. Feel Whole.  It probably started as a good idea, hoping to inspire thoughts of healing body, mind and spirit while under the care of AdventHealth and its medical staff. I can picture the white-board session now, an echo chamber of adulation. A zippy video with images of healthy people doing healthy things backed by a soundtrack and a final coda call-and-response of "Tell me how you're feeling tonight." Hashtagwordcloud #feelingwhole fadetoAdventHealthlogo. Statistically speaking it is likely that there is a mom or dad in the Orlando area who saw that video on social media somewhere. It made them feel good. It evoked a sense of trust in AdventHealth. A trusted resource that mom or dad should be able to rely on for a referral to a doctor who will help them and their child feel whole. Not Feel (W)hole. NOT FEEL (W)HOLE. 

[nofomoartworld]

There's an Online Galaxy Full of Star Wars Art

Unknown creator, title & year, images courtesy of DB Burkeman

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This article was originally published on November 10, 2014 but we think it still rocks!

There's a galaxy's worth of Star Wars art out there, from pixel art water colors, to costumed photography, to Banksy-esque murals. DB Burkeman developed a way to organize the cream of the interstellar crop into one coherent body of art: the curated online catalog, Star Warps.

Burkeman set his roots down in the art world with the success of his first book, Stickers- from Punk Rock to Contemporary Art. Burkeman tells The Creators Project, the one thing that drives him has, "always been the same thing really: a desire/need to collect and curate."

The idea for Star Warps was born when Burkeman's art career introduced him to a wealth of creatives, including The Sucklord, Bill McMullen, JK5, and Kostas Seremetis, who shared his passion for art, culture, and a galaxy far, far away. "I suspect I subconsciously started collecting images for this project years before I met those guys," he said. "When I started talking to the guys about the idea of a book of art inspired by Star Wars, they were psyched."

Due to copyright in the age of the internet, the guys soon realized that a book, the format Burkeman had become familiar with while making Stickers, wasn't the best way to present this type of art. Gathering it all on the internet, beautifully, and for free was the only way to pin down the grassroots art movement germinating in the Star Wars fandom. We spoke to Burkeman about how to make a digital book for the internet, how he curates, and why he thinks artists love Star Wars so much.

Sucklord aka SUCKADELIC "GRAFF-AT” Bombed Hasbro AT-AT walker Features Throw-Ups, Fill-ins, Tags, and Burners all written in Aurebesh, a letter system created for the Star Wars Universe. With artwork By José Parlá (Aka EASE) and Joseph Aloi

The Creators Project: How did you first begin talking to your collaborators about curating an experience like Star Warps?

DB Burkeman: I suspect I subconsciously started collecting images for this project years before I met those guys actually. I was just stashing them away in some filing cabinet in my brain. Sucklord put me in touch with a guy who had done an unauthorized, but high profile, art-related Star Wars project. I wanted to understand if this was a project that could be published as a printed, commercial book. What I took from that phone meeting was that it might be possible, but that the artwork copyrights would need to be owned by Lucas Arts (now, Disney). I knew that the fine artists I was interested in showing were not going to give up their rights any time soon, so the idea of creating something that could only be viewed for free, online, was born.

INVADER “LDN_132” London. Ceramic Tile 2013 http://ift.tt/IevlZs

Can you tell me about the design philosophy behind the Star Warps website?

The only design direction I gave my partner, Phil Kuperberg, the real genius here, was that I wanted it very clean, almost to resemble a museum or auction catalog. Text on the pages would be simple credits: artist name, title of work, medium, size, and year created, and credits would then vanish after ten seconds, leaving nothing but the art floating on white.

What qualities were most valuable in engineering a digital book experience?

This was a labor-of-love project. There was no team, there was no money, this was just me on the art, and Phil on the tech. He just kept trying new things and we kept simplifying the design. Clean, intuitive functionality is key to having fun with the book. There are design elements that seem simple and obvious but were difficult to get just right, like fine-tuning the splash page to have the stars’ direction controlled by the mouse, getting the chronological order sorted correctly, and the incredibly effective “search.”

What was the most difficult challenge you had to overcome in launching this project?

In the final days before we launched I had a couple of sleepless nights, stressing that Disney/Lucas were going to instantly shut it down, and the two years of real hard work was going to vanish before our eyes. We were very careful not to have links that would direct the viewer to an artist’s shop where they might be selling unauthorized Star Wars art. My anxiety level decreased a little once I typed Star Wars into Etsy’s search and something like 33,000 items showed up. This led me to believe, or at least hope, that the all-powerful guardians of the brand know that having fan-driven stuff out there is a very positive force for them...excuse the pun.

You've spent a lot of time as an influencer in dance music and DJ culture. How has your experience as a DJ influenced your process in composing what is essentially a massive Star Wars art playlist?

I’ve recently been thinking about what actually drives me, and I feel like it’s always been the same thing really: a desire/need to collect and curate. Even at 14 or 15 years old I was making up mix-tapes on cassettes, using the pause button for edits, then using another cassette recorder to make copies just so I could give them to friends. It was the need to compile music that worked well together that drove me to become a professional DJ. In the early 90s that drive turned into real skill, and I was hired by Profile Records, where the majority of my A&R role was compiling Techno, House, & Jungle compilations. I’m now working on curating art books, which will be giant playlists of other topics. I want to create books for people who are not necessarily art-educated, but who have an appreciation for it, especially if it’s presented in a down-to-earth way. My first book, about the history and culture of stickers is totally sold out now, which is unbelievable, but the biggest thrill for me was getting a text from my sister in London telling me the Tate Modern was selling it! Same deal here at the MoMA, and the Pompidou in Paris.

Megan Whitmarsh "Ace vs Darth” Embroidery thread on polished cotton. 5" x 5” 2006, meganwhitmarsh.com

Fan art is notorious for the disparity between amazing and amazingly awful artworks. How do you decide whether a work of Star Wars art is "good enough?”

Editing is always tough for me. I like the majority of this stuff, even the really “bad” art. It was simply impossible to include everything, though, as the book would have been thousands of pages. We also had an issue with like minded-people creating the same, or very similar works. So whoever was the first to do it “won.”

Other than the guys mentioned above, my personal preferences are at the opposite ends of the “art” spectrum. I really love the fine artistry by the likes of Tom Sachs, KAWS, John Baldessari etc, and also the culture jamming stuff that's often totally anonymous. Possibly my favorite of those is the GIF of the X-Wing endlessly flying over the radio waves from the dying star, designed by Peter Saville for Joy Division.

Crispix, Two Cheerios, Frosting. 2013, http://ift.tt/kEEY9t

One work I have not been able to include yet, because I didn’t get good images when I saw it in Miami a few years ago, is a conceptual piece created by the anonymous artist collective Bruce High Quality Foundation. What I remember, and my memory can easily be faulty, was a big multimedia sculpture of the earth, with video and audio playing on vintage TVs that were stuck into the globe. As I passed one of the TV's I heard a conversation by two people who were acting out the moment when George Lucas is telling his idea of the Star Wars saga to Steven Spielberg.

I'd love to know if the scripted dialog was based on a real, or totally imagined, conversation. Maybe being featured here will open their previously closed door to me.

What do you think makes Star Wars that is so attractive to creators?

Hmmm, I can’t even really explain why I was so attracted to it, let alone what drives an artist to make their work!

Tom Sachs, "R2D2 (1-1)” Foam Core, Ink, Thermal Adhesive, Triple Expanding Foam, Steel Armature. 42" X 30" X 30.25”. 2000 www.tomsachs.org

William Cordova "Lando, Landu (Yawar Mallku)” Wood from Puerto Rico, Hawaii, Peru, Algeria. Approximately 216 x 840 x 600 inches. 2010-2011 sikkemajenkinsco.com

Unknown creator, title & year

Unknown creator, title & year

Visit the Star Warps website to explore the galaxy of Star Wars remixes Burkeman has curated there.

Related:

See Star Wars Invade The Real World In This Gritty Urban Photo Series

Watch Ishod Wair Become A Jedi Master In Star Wars-Skateboarding Mashup

In The 90s, Two Middle Schoolers Created A Massive Body Of Star Wars Pixel Art

Meet The Designer Recreating Star Wars In Minecraft

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