#and an opportunity to leave the Republic comes in the form of a new-born Empire and a questionable Order and a girl-clone

[seeking-elsewhither]

Watching this documentary sort of thing about someone, and this man is talking about his childhood with the main character. Spoke of how they always wanted to get out of the place they were stuck in, but they made no actionable plan because they were only kids whose singular thought process was "We have to get out of this place."

And if that doesn't perfectly encapsulate Clone Force 99's mentality, I don't know what does.

[gffa]

STAR WARS PREQUELS - A TIMELINE

So, what's this about, huh? After recently sitting down with Star Wars Timelines, I was genuinely surprised at just how much they were willing to nail down to a specific year and sequence of events, which admittedly is a reference book and those are pretty low on the canon totem pole so be prepared for future retcons down the road, but it's shockingly useful information to have! Because the more I paged through it, the more I realized just how useful it would be for fic writers, especially for anything that might be referenced by a prequels character. Do you want to know how old the Jedi Order basically is? What the eras were called, if a prequels character wanted to reference them? What year did Dooku leave the Jedi? When did Naboo join the Republic? When was the Republic founded? When was the Jedi Temple built? When was Yaddle born? When did the Togruta ally with the Republic? Was Anakin born on Tatooine? When did Plo discover Ahsoka? When did Anakin get his first kyber crystal? When did Obi-Wan join the Jedi Council? WHEN DOES THE MANDALORIAN CIVIL WAR TAKE PLACE?? Some of this is SO INTERESTING to have nailed down into place--like just how old Huyang is or that the Jedi Temple was constructed on Coruscant BEFORE the Republic existed! Useful for me to know, but also my prequels-era characters to know! This book is willing to tell us A LOT and I collated everything I thought would be useful for a prequels character to know! ERAS:

c.5,000 BBY– 1,032 BBY: Ancient conflicts "The Jedi and Sith wage a series of wars throughout their history so ruinous that at points each is brought to the brink of destruction."

c.500 BBY–330 BBY: "The Age of Exploration" "After centuries of governing in regions near the galactic Core, the Republic sets out to explore the Outer Rim. This era of exploration on the frontier presents many adventures and opportunities for the Republic and the Jedi Order alike, but growth also leads them to uncover new mysteries and dangers. Soon the Jedi Order’s very connection to the Force is put to the test."

c.500 BBY–100 BBY: "The High Republic" The four hundred years that are collectively referred to as the High Republic era.

TIMELINE:

c.25,025 BBY: BIRTH OF THE JEDI

"The Jedi Order is founded. Among the earliest locations, and likely the first, is a temple constructed on the planet of Ahch-To. Later, the temple retains the most treasured Jedi texts and earliest writings on the Order’s faith. For eons, these noble protectors stand united by their ability to harness the power of the Force itself for good."

c.25,020 BBY: Professor Huyang powered up "The architect droid Professor Huyang begins training Jedi younglings in the delicate art of lightsaber construction."

c.20,000 BBY: Dawn of the Republic

"The foundation of the Republic is formed through an alliance including Coruscant, Corellia, and Alderaan, prompted by the dawn of hyperspace travel."

c.5,000 BBY: Creeping darkness

"A dark-side sect splinters from the Jedi, causing the formation of the Sith. This fracture is the genesis of a millennia-long rivalry."

c.5,000 BBY–1,032 BBY: "The Sith battle the Jedi in numerous conflicts for thousands of years before their struggle comes to an end, resulting in the destruction of the Sith Empire."

c.5,000 BBY–1,032 BBY: "The Sith build shrines on planets, including Malachor and Moraband. They covet these locations for their connection to the dark side of the Force."

c.1,050 BBY: A Mandalorian Jedi

"Tarre Vizsla becomes the first of the Mandalorian warriors to be inducted as a member of the Jedi Order. The unique lightsaber he constructs comes to be known as the Darksaber, later stolen to be used as a symbol to unite his planet."

c.1,032 BBY: Coruscant Temple erected

"The main Jedi Temple on Coruscant is constructed at the same location where there was once a Sith shrine."

c.1,032 BBY: "Darth Bane, the last surviving Sith, recognizes that infighting and back-stabbing ultimately led to the downfall of the Sith Empire. He declares the Rule of Two, whereby there can only be a sole master and single apprentice of the Sith. The practice safeguards the inherently selfish Order from self-destruction, thus ensuring the survival of the Sith for centuries to come."

1,000 BBY: Reformation of the Republic

"The first incarnation of the democratic alliance of planets, the Galactic Republic, is reformed."

c.972 BBY: Rules of war

"The Galactic Accord of Systems establishes a set of rules of engagement, in the event another war should break out."

896 BBY: Yoda is born

"The future Jedi Master Yoda is born."

832 BBY: Construction of Theed

"Naboo’s capital city, Theed, is built. The floating city on the banks of the river Solleu becomes the jewel of the metropolis."

867 BBY: Naboo joins the Republic

"The planet of Naboo officially joins the Galactic Republic. The event will be commemorated annually with The Festival of Light."

796 BBY: Students of Yoda

"Master Yoda begins training Jedi. He will maintain this regular practice, teaching the newest members of the Order, for about 800 years."

600 BBY:

Jabba Desilijic Tiure is born.

509 BBY:

Yaddle is born.

c.392 BBY: PATHFINDERS

"The Republic and the Jedi establish Pathfinder teams to explore new hyperspace lanes in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. A team of Pathfinders typically includes two Jedi, a master and their apprentice, who work together with their Republic allies to discover new ways through dangerous and unexplored places. They work with communications teams who lay the groundwork for the infrastructure needed for Republic growth. In return for their efforts, the Jedi Order hopes to gain new understanding of the galaxy, new cultures, and the Force."

c.383 BBY: THE HYPERSPACE RUSH

"Independent explorers also race to discover new paths through hyperspace. These prospectors risk their lives in perilous, uncharted corners of the Outer Rim, hoping to find safer, shorter routes. Families like the Grafs and San Tekkas earn great fame and fortune by selling their knowledge of these new hyperlanes."

382 BB The First High Republic book of Phase II

The High Republic: Path of Deceit kicks off the second phase of books, set 150 years before the previous phase.

382 BBY: Battle of Jedha

"The Path of the Open Hand instigates a battle on the sacred moon of Jedha."

232 BBY The First High Republic book of Phase I:

The High Republic: Light of the Jedi, which kicks off the original era of the High Republic (out of universe, not in universe), starting with the Great Hyperspace Disaster where a ship explodes in hyperspace over the planet Hetzal Prime. This ignites an intergalactic conflict with the Nihil that draws the Jedi and the Republic into a massive connected, long-running series of battles against them.

232 BBY:

"Dignitaries and Jedi gather at the Starlight Beacon for its official dedication ceremony."

The Great Hyperspace Disaster (the Legacy Run explodes in hyperspace) happens and the Jedi rush to help mitigate the disaster and evacuate as many people as they can.

"The brave deeds of the Jedi Order [in the Great Hyperspace Disaster] are cast across the galaxy via holotransmissions, making Kriss and her fellow Jedi heroes."

The Emergences: "Though Hetzal has been saved by the heroics of the Jedi, fragments of the Legacy Run continue to threaten the frontier. Fear grips the Outer Rim as blazing wreckage of the ship appears with little warning from hyperspace. As the Republic seeks answers to these Emergences, a group of Jedi stranded in a forgotten corner of space unknowingly cause a far older and more sinister threat to emerge: the Drengir."

"Wreckage from the Legacy Run scatters through hyperspace, endangering the Outer Rim. The first of the Emergences after the Great Hyperspace disaster occurs at Ab Dalis, killing 20 million beings."

"The Nihil strike on Elphrona, intending to ransom well-connected homesteaders and capture a Jedi for Marchion Ro’s evil machinations."

"The Jedi Council votes to join the Republic against the Nihil."

232 BBY: A BEACON OF HOPE

"With the Great Disaster behind them, the Republic and Jedi refocus on the opening of the Starlight Beacon. This towering space station located in the Outer Rim is one of Chancellor Lina Soh’s Great Works, meant to provide a symbol of hope in a dark corner of the galaxy. This shining example of Republic unity and progress serves as a vital base for the ongoing struggles with the Nihil and Drengir."

"One of Chancellor Lina Soh’s Great Works, the Starlight Beacon, begins operation after a dedication ceremony attended by Republic dignitaries and prominent members of the Jedi Order. The station is to be just one of many beacons, serving to connect, inspire, and serve the Republic’s growth in the Galactic Frontier. The Jedi maintain a permanent presence on the station under the leadership of Marshal Kriss and the watchful eye of the exacting Jedi Master Estala Maru."

"Hunting the Nihil - Though it lacks a formal military, the Republic forms a special task force to hunt the Nihil, with Joss and Pikka Adren among the first volunteers."

"The Jedi broker the Ayelina-Ludmere trade agreement."

232 BBY: GROWTH OF THE DRENGIR

"The carnivorous Drengir take root across wide swaths of the frontier. Their lust for living flesh, which they consider “meats,” leads them to attack hundreds of worlds. Defenseless settlers and the Jedi alike struggle to repel these horrifying plantlike creatures."

231 BBY: THE REPUBLIC FAIR

"Chancellor Lina Soh’s next Great Work is a magnificent fair on Valo. Meant to celebrate the Republic and its many achievements, the event turns into a tragedy. The Nihil mount a merciless raid on the fairgoers, destroy the event, and nearly kill the chancellor. The Jedi defenders mount a valiant defense but are outnumbered."

231 BBY: FIGHT FOR THE FRONTIER

"The Jedi march across the frontier as they seek justice for the attack on the Valo fair. With the Drengir threat seemingly settled, they turn their attention to the scattered Nihil forces. The Jedi believe that they are gaining the upper hand, but are unaware of who leads the raiders and their ultimate goal. The Nihil Tempest Runners bear the brunt of the assault while the Eye of the Nihil, Marchion Ro, prepares a new weapon to fight the Jedi."

"The Republic-Togruta Alliance is formed."

230 BBY: FALL OF STARLIGHT

"The Nameless wreak havoc among the Jedi, who fight valiantly in Starlight’s final moments. Master Estala Maru sacrifices his own life to delay the top half of the station from burning up in Eiram’s atmosphere. Below, Master Stellan Gios stays behind to ensure the lower portion will not strike a populated city on the planet’s surface."

"The Jedi recall their members to safety on Coruscant."

"The Republic readies a Defense Coalition fleet to strike at Nihil space. The Jedi, concerned that they cannot yet combat the Nameless, remain on Coruscant."

c.200 BBY:

"Births: Chewbacca— Wookiee hero and copilot born on Kashyyyk."

102 BBY:

"Serenno foundling Dooku’s family abandons him as an infant after discovering his Force abilities. The Jedi bring him to Coruscant to join the Order." (Dooku is born this year.)

Sifo-Dyas was also born in 102 BBY.

86 BBY:

Dooku becomes Yoda’s Padawan.

Sifo-Dyas becomes Lene Kostana’s Padawan.

84 BBY:

Sheev Palpatine is born on Naboo.

c.80 BBY:

Rael Averross becomes Dooku’s Padawan

72 BBY:

Mace Windu is born. (Take with a grain of salt, it's from a De Agostini booklet and never appeared anywhere else that I can find.)

c.70 BBY:

"Averross is knighted and encourages Dooku to take another Padawan."

68 BBY:

Qui-Gon Jinn becomes Dooku’s Padawan.

c.58 BBY:

"After attaining the rank of Jedi Master, Dooku is offered a seat on the Jedi Council."

Qui-Gon becomes a Jedi Knight.

57 BBY:

Obi-Wan Kenobi is born on Stewjon.

54 BBY:

"Obi-Wan Kenobi begins his Jedi training." (Presumably this means he was 3 years old when he was adopted by the Jedi and began his training then.)

52 BBY:

Palpatine is elected Senator of Naboo.

50 BBY:

"The Nightsisters sell Asajj Ventress to Hal’Sted."

46 BBY:

Padme Naberrie is born on Naboo.

44 BBY:

Obi-Wan Kenobi becomes Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan.

"Stranded on remote Rattatak, the Jedi Knight Ky Narec discovers Asajj Ventress and trains her as his Padawan."

c.44 BBY - "Amid concerns about the corrosive effects of dynasties, the Naboo Reformations limit monarchs to a maximum of two two-year terms."

42 BBY:

Rael Averross introduces Dooku to Palpatine.

Dooku leave the Jedi Order and returns to Serenno to reclaim his title.

c.42 BBY: "Civil war engulfs Mandalore, a planet with a proud honor code and a war-torn history. Its clans form factions, with the conflict evolving to pit tradition-minded clan fighters against New Mandalorians who see the warrior past as a dead end."

c.42 BBY: "Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan protect Duchess Satine Kryze during the Mandalorian Civil War. Obi-Wan and Satine fall in love and he offers to leave the Jedi Order to be with her. They decide that their duties won’t allow them to follow their hearts."

c.42 BBY: "The Mandalorian Civil War ends with Satine’s New Mandalorians ascendant, though traditionalists—including Satine’s sister Bo-Katan—organize to resist her rule."

41 BBY:

Anakin Skywalker is born.

"Distant secret Ancient Jedi lore leads Obi-Wan to the Force-imbued planet Lenahra, where he forges a deeper connection with the living Force." (These are the events of the Padawan novel.)

c.41 BBY: "Holiday interrupted While visiting Kashyyyk, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan foil a Trandoshan raid aimed at taking Wookiee prisoners during Life Day celebrations." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures 2020, issues 3-4. Unclear if this is before or after the novel Padawan.)

40 BBY:

c.40 BBY - Maul becomes Sidious’ apprentice.

Qui-Gon is offered a seat on the Jedi Council. He does not accept by the end of Master and Apprentice.

"Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan visit strategically located Pijal to oversee the signing of a treaty between its monarchy and the Czerka Corporation." (These are the events of the Master and Apprentice novel.)

39 BBY:

c.39 BBY: Sifo-Dyas joins the Jedi High Council.

38 BBY:

c.38 BBY - "Shmi and Anakin Skywalker are brought to Tatooine. Their enslaver, Gardulla the Hutt, soon loses them to Watto in a bet."

37 BBY:

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan mediate a conflict on Bri’n. (Age of Republic - Qui-Gon Jinn #1)

36 BBY:

Orson Krennic and Galen Erso meet.

Ahsoka Tano is born.

34 BBY:

"Mace Windu helps overthrow the warlord Guattako." (These are the events of Age of Republic - Special #1)

"A skilled mechanic, Anakin begins gathering spare parts to build a protocol droid, C-3PO, to help Shmi with household chores."

"Sidious tests Maul on Malachor."

33 BBY:

"Plo Koon discovers a Force-sensitive Togruta toddler named Ahsoka Tano. He brings 'Little ‘Soka' to Coruscant for training."

"Sifo-Dyas orders a secret clone army to be created on Kamino."

"Eager to test his abilities against the Jedi Order, Darth Maul kills the Twi’lek Padawan Eldra Kaitis on Drazkel’s moon." (These are the events of Darth Maul 2017)

Caleb Dume/Kanan Jarrus is born.

32 BBY: THE PHANTOM MENACE

"The former Padmé Naberrie is just 14 when elected and has barely taken office when the Trade Federation blockades and then invades Naboo."

The events of The Phantom Menace take place, the Trade Federation invades Naboo, Valorum sends Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to help Naboo, Anakin Skywalker is adopted into the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon Jinn dies.

"Count Dooku pledges himself to the ways of the Sith, replacing Maul as Sidious’ apprentice and taking the name Darth Tyranus."

"Palpatine is elected supreme chancellor."

"Obi-Wan takes Anakin as his Padawan."

"The Sith take over Sifo-Dyas’ project to create a clone army, ordering inhibitor chips implanted in the clones to ensure their obedience."

"With Sifo-Dyas dead, Dooku takes over the clone project, altering it to serve the Sith’s purpose. In his guise as Tyranus, Dooku recruits the bounty hunter Jango Fett as the genetic template for the Kaminoans’ clone army. He then instructs the Kaminoans to secretly implant inhibitor chips in the clones’ brains to ensure their obedience. The clones will fight for the Republic, but the Sith will be their true masters."

Han Solo is born.

Boba Fett is born.

Yaddle is killed by Dooku.

31 BBY:

"Kuat Drive Yards receives an order from a secret buyer to create massive numbers of warships and weapons."

30 BBY:

"Sidious’ minions begin constructing a massive Observatory on Jakku, the first of several built as part of the Sith Lord’s decades-spanning Contingency project. As Palpatine, Sidious orders the secret establishment of bases, shipyards, and colonies in the galaxy’s Unknown Regions."

29 BBY:

c.29 BBY: "Anakin seeks out his first kyber crystal on Ilum and creates a lightsaber, an important step in his Padawan training."

"Anakin goes on a mission in Coruscant’s underlevels with a disguised Chancellor Palpatine, whom he comes to see as a mentor."

"Influenced by Palpatine, Anakin tells Obi-Wan he wishes to suspend his Jedi training and surrenders his lightsaber. With Anakin’s path undecided, Yoda sends him and Obi-Wan to Carnelion IV to investigate a distress signal. [Eventually] Anakin decides to remain Obi-Wan’s Padawan." (These are the events of Obi-Wan & Anakin 2016)

Hera Syndulla is born.

28 BBY:

Queen Amidala's final year as Queen of Naboo, where her successor, Queen Réillata, asks her to be Senator for Naboo and Padme agrees, taking office that year.

"Remembering her experience after fleeing Naboo, Padmé sends Sabé on a mission to investigate how to end slavery on Tatooine." (This ultimately doesn't really go anywhere/accomplish much, unfortunately.)

"Padmé becomes friends with two young fellow senators: Rush Clovis of Scipio and Mina Bonteri of Raxus." (These are the events of Queen's Shadow.)

c.28 BBY: "Obi-Wan and Anakin are sent to retrieve a Holocron from Dallenor, leading to a confrontation with the Krypder Riders." (These are the events of Age of Republic - Obi-Wan Kenobi #1.)

27 BBY:

c.27 BBY: "Cliegg Lars buys Shmi Skywalker’s freedom from Watto. They marry and live on Cliegg’s moisture farm."

26 BBY:

"While on a mission to Sullust, Dooku kills the Jedi Knight Jak’zin and forces the Kaldana Syndicate to serve Sidious’ interests." (These are the events of Age of the Republic - Count Dooku #1.)

"Obi-Wan and Anakin rescue Yoda from raiders on Glee Anselm, but discover the incident was actually a test engineered by the Jedi Council [to help them get along better]." (These are the events of Choose Your Destiny: An Obi-Wan & Anakin Adventure.)

24 BBY:

c.24 BBY - "Dooku founds the Confederacy of Independent Systems, attracting planets that wish to secede from the Republic and beginning the Separatist Movement."

"The Senate passes the Emergency Powers Act, allowing Palpatine to remain in office for the duration of the Separatist Crisis."

"Palpatine forms the Loyalist Committee to advise him during the Separatist Crisis. Senators belonging to the committee include Bail Organa of Alderaan, Padmé Amidala of Naboo, Ask Aak of Malastare, and Orn Free Taa of Ryloth."

"The Senate begins debating the Military Creation Act, which would allow the Republic to create military forces for its defense."

"Adrift after the death of Ky Narec, a grief-stricken Asajj Ventress embraces the dark side and becomes a warlord on Rattatak."

"Osika Kirske imprisons Ventress on Rattatak, forcing her to fight as a gladiator. Dooku frees her and offers to make her his apprentice in hopes of one day supplanting Sidious. Ventress agrees to serve as the count’s agent and assassin." (These are part of the events of Dooku: Jedi Lost.)

22 BBY–19 BBY: The Clone Wars

"A political crisis propels the Jedi Order into a galaxy-wide war against the Separatists, secretly led by the Sith."

22 BBY: ATTACK OF THE CLONES:

"Obi-Wan and Anakin help defuse a crisis on Ansion." (Mentioned in Attack of the Clones: "He's just returned from a border dispute on Ansion," Mace says of Obi-Wan.)

The events of Attack of the Clones take place, Padme is attacked for her stance against the Military Creation Act in the Senate, Jar Jar introduces a motion to give Palpatine emergency powers as Chancellor, including the discovery of the clone army, Shmi Skywalker dies, Obi-Wan and Anakin and Padme are held captive by the Separatists and rescued by the Jedi, many who die in the arena, as well as Jango Fett dies, and the start of the Clone Wars.

Anakin and Padme are secretly married on Naboo.

Poggle the Lesser gives the Death Star plans to Dooku.

The Clone Wars begin on Geonosis.

22 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Mace Windu leads a Jedi mission to Hissrich. As a member of Windu’s team, Jedi Prosset Dibs accuses the Order of wanting Hissrich for the Republic. He duels Windu and is defeated. Dibs is found guilty of treason and confined to the Jedi Archives in hopes that he’ll find his way back to the light." (These are the events of Jedi of the Republic - Mace Windu.)

"Padmé and Captain Typho help Sticks’ squad of clone troopers free Separatist hostages on the embattled planet Hebekrr Minor." (These are the events of Queen's Hope.)

"Anakin becomes a Jedi Knight."

"Obi-Wan becomes a Jedi Master and is elevated to the Jedi Council."

"Obi-Wan investigates a bombing on Cato Neimoidia and discovers the attack bears the hallmarks of both a Republic and Separatist operation. He brings this disquieting hint that someone is manipulating both sides of the war back to Coruscant. Anakin duels Ventress on Cato Neimoidia." (These are the events of Brotherhood.)

"Captain Rex, formally designated CT-7567, is assigned to Anakin Skywalker, who saves his life during the Battle of Arantara. A mutual respect soon blossoms between the brash, bold young Jedi general and the sturdy, by-the-book clone officer."

"Anakin’s troops run afoul of hostile wildlife while searching for Separatist forces on Benglor." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures: The Clone Wars – Battle Tales #1.)

"The Techno Union’s Wat Tambor destroys the Nexus trading post on Quarmendy to keep Plo Koon’s troops from reclaiming it." (These are the events of Star Wars Adventures: The Clone Wars – Battle Tales #2.)

"Yoda assigns Ahsoka Tano to Anakin as his Padawan, hoping to teach Skywalker how to let go of his emotional attachments."

"The Separatist battlecruiser Malevolence terrorizes the galaxy’s inner systems before it is tracked and destroyed at the Dead Moon of Antar."

21 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"The Republic invades Geonosis for a second time to destroy a dangerous new droid foundry constructed by Poggle the Lesser."

"Padmé and Jar Jar discover a bioweapons lab in Naboo’s swamps and must stop Nuvo Vindi from releasing the Blue Shadow Virus."

"General Grievous and Asajj Ventress lead a Separatist invasion on Kamino, with the Republic’s clones fiercely defending their birthworld."

"Sabine Wren is born on Mandalore but raised on neighboring Krownest."

20 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Anakin experiences a disturbing vision of his future in the Force realm known as Mortis and must make a wrenching decision."

"The Republic defends Mon Cala during a Separatist-engineered civil war between the Mon Calamari and the Quarren."

"Republic forces suffer heavy casualties while storming Umbara, a strategically located world with advanced technology that has become a Separatist stronghold."

"Maul returns from exile, bent on obtaining revenge against the long list of those he believes have wronged him."

19 BBY: THE CLONE WARS:

"Maul forms the Shadow Collective, forging several of the galaxy’s crime syndicates into a single underworld organization under his leadership."

"Mandalore’s Duchess Satine Kryze is overthrown by Death Watch’s Pre Vizsla, whose own rule is quickly ended by Maul. Maul has manipulated events to bring Obi-Wan to Mandalore, and now has the hated Jedi at his mercy. He strikes Satine down in the throne room."

"Responding to a disturbance in the Force, Darth Sidious arrives on Mandalore. Maul swears fealty to his old master, but Sidious rejects him. He kills Savage, blasts Maul with lightning, and takes his former apprentice prisoner."

"Anakin and Ahsoka return from Cato Neimoidia to investigate a bombing at the Jedi Temple amid rumors that a Jedi was involved."

"Ahsoka is expelled from the Jedi Order, which believes her guilty of the Temple bombing. She is then arrested by the Republic and prosecuted by Admiral Tarkin before a military tribunal, with Palpatine presiding and Padmé representing the defense. [She] leaves the Jedi Order."

"During the Battle of Ringo Vinda, the clone trooper Tup turns his blaster on Jedi General Tiplar, forcing a Republic retreat. Fives and AZI-3 discover a tumor in Tup’s brain. He dies after its extraction. Palpatine and Nala Se insist the tumor be sent to a Republic medical facility, but Shaak Ti decides it must go to the Jedi Temple first. Kix helps Fives arrange a meeting with Anakin and Rex. Fives tells them about the inhibitor chips and the plot against the Jedi, but his story sounds like a paranoid conspiracy and he becomes agitated. Commander Fox and clone troopers arrive, sent by Palpatine, and try to arrest Fives. When Fives resists, Fox shoots him dead. Tup’s action is blamed on a parasitic infection, and the inhibitor chips are delivered to Dooku."

"Padmé travels to Scipio to expedite a Banking Clan loan for the Republic and discovers Rush Clovis is serving as their representative. The Banking Clan is dissolved and Palpatine takes over its holdings."

"Plo Koon discovers the crash site of Sifo-Dyas’ ship, prompting the Council to investigate the Jedi’s long-ago disappearance."

"On Oba Diah, spice kingpin Lom Pyke tells Anakin and Obi-Wan that the Pykes were paid by Tyranus to kill Sifo-Dyas. Dooku arrives and is identified as Tyranus. He kills the Pyke leader and duels with Anakin, but escapes."

"The Jedi are disturbed to learn Dooku was responsible for the creation of the clone army, but decide to keep this revelation secret."

"Yoda obeys Qui-Gon’s voice and travels to Dagobah, where Qui-Gon’s spirit tells him to learn how to retain his identity after death."

"Anakin teams up with a mysterious Chiss military officer, Thrawn, to locate Padmé and destroy a cortosis mine." [Thrawn: Alliances]

"Yoda helps Kashyyyk’s Wookiees defend their planet against Separatist raiders, earning the honor 'Defender of the Home Tree.'"

"Mandalorian commandos free Maul from Stygeon Prime. Sidious and Dooku allow him to escape in hopes of drawing out Mother Talzin. Maul lures Grievous and Dooku into a confrontation on Ord Mantell and takes them both prisoner—a dangerous gambit of Talzin’s aimed at luring her old enemy Sidious into the fight. Grievous and Sidious come to Dooku’s aid on Dathomir. Grievous kills Mother Talzin and the Mandalorians drag Maul away to safety."

- "Ventress asks the Jedi to help abduct Vos from Dooku’s service in hopes of saving him. Vos returns to the Jedi, claiming his turn to the dark side was a ruse. But his true loyalties are unclear. Vos defeats Dooku on Christophsis, but agrees to join him to defeat Sidious. His secret hope is to kill both Sith Lords. Ventress confronts Vos and Dooku, saving Quinlan before Dooku attacks her with a devastating blast of lightning. The count escapes. Vos and Obi-Wan return Ventress to the waters of Dathomir. [Ventress dies.]"

"Having left the Jedi Order, Ahsoka befriends Trace Martez, a mechanic in the Coruscant underlevels, and her sister Rafa. Ahsoka discovers the Pykes are working for Maul, who is on Mandalore. She uses the Force to escape with the Martez sisters, and the Pykes conclude they were targeted by the Jedi. Ahsoka returns to Coruscant, where Bo-Katan Kryze recruits her to fight Maul."

"Separatists commanded by Admiral Trench invade the Republic stronghold of Anaxes and repeatedly defeat clone counterattacks. Rex is disturbed that the Separatists seem to be adapting rapidly to his strategies and suspects Trench is using some new combat algorithm. He proposes raiding the Separatists’ cyber center to discover their secret. The mission succeeds with assistance from an unorthodox unit of genetically altered clones known as the Bad Batch."

"Anakin joins Rex’s clones and the Bad Batch to raid the Techno Union’s facility on Skako Minor, fighting their way through Wat Tambor’s droid legions. They discover Echo confined in a stasis chamber and hooked up to Separatist computers. Anakin confronts Trench to obtain the rest of the sequence to disarm the bomb, saving Anaxes. He then kills the admiral. Echo joins the Bad Batch."

"Grievous launches a Separatist counteroffensive. The Republic sends Aayla Secura to Felucia and Plo Koon to Cato Neimoidia to hold the line."

"Obi-Wan and Anakin rout Separatist forces on Yerbana. ["Old Friends Not Forgotten"] Ahsoka and Bo-Katan approach the Jedi to propose a joint mission to capture Maul and free Mandalore from his crime syndicate. The Jedi agree and split the 501st in two, with Rex leading troops under Ahsoka’s command."

"A Separatist armada launches a sneak attack on Coruscant, hammering the Republic warships of the Coruscant Home Defense Fleet. Grievous ambushes Palpatine in the Federal District, killing Roron Corobb and knocking Shaak Ti unconscious, then kidnapping the chancellor. The Open Circle Fleet arrives from Yerbana."

19 BBY: REVENGE OF THE SITH:

"Anakin and Obi-Wan fly through the titanic space battle, dodging salvos of laser fire exchanged by Republic and Separatist capital ships in an effort to reach the Invisible Hand, where Palpatine is being held. With the Separatists cut off from their jump point, the battle degenerates into a brutal slugging match, with ships burning up in orbit and debris raining down upon the Coruscant cityscape below. Anakin and Obi-Wan rescue Palpatine above Coruscant. Anakin kills Dooku and Sidious plots to make the Jedi his new apprentice."

"Grievous retreats to Utapau, where the Separatist Council is in hiding. Sidious orders him to relocate the Separatist leaders to Mustafar."

"On Mandalore, Republic forces take the docks of the capital, Sundari. Prime Minister Almec orders Gar Saxon to retreat into the undercity. Bo-Katan’s commandos capture Almec. Ahsoka confronts Maul in the undercity. He is disappointed to see her, having hoped to lure Obi-Wan into his trap."

"Anakin dreams of Padmé’s death in childbirth. Palpatine appoints Anakin to the Jedi Council as his personal representative, to the alarm of Yoda and Mace Windu."

"Bail Organa meets secretly with Padmé, Mon Mothma, and other senators determined to resist Palpatine if he doesn’t surrender his wartime powers."

"Yoda heads to Kashyyyk to bolster its defense."

"On Maul’s command, Saxon shoots Almec before Ahsoka can finish questioning him, then makes his getaway."

"At Coruscant’s Galaxies Opera House, Palpatine plays on Anakin’s anger and doubt about the Jedi’s integrity, guessing that they asked him to be their spy. He tells Anakin the story of Darth Plagueis, a Sith Lord who could save people from dying. Anakin, fearful his nightmares are a premonition of Padmé’s fate, is intrigued—particularly when Palpatine tells him it is not a power that can be learned from the Jedi."

"Obi-Wan travels to Utapau to hunt for Grievous."

"Clone troopers, Bo-Katan’s commandos, and Saxon’s warriors battle in the streets of Sundari, with the Republic’s forces winning the day."

"Ahsoka confronts Maul again, who tells her Sidious is behind everything and Anakin is the key to destroying the Sith. Maul reveals that he had hoped to lure Obi-Wan and Anakin to Mandalore in order to kill Anakin, so Sidious could not take the Jedi as his new apprentice. Ahsoka and Maul duel. Maul is captured by Rex’s clones, with Saxon apprehended as well."

"On Utapau, Obi-Wan confronts Grievous. He duels the Separatist warlord and then chases him through the city’s winding tunnels and warrens."

"Palpatine reveals his true identity to Anakin and begs him to use his knowledge to save Padmé. Anakin vows to turn him over to the Jedi."

"Obi-Wan corners Grievous in a hangar on Utapau and kills the mechanical monster with a shot from a blaster."

"Imprisoned in a device that prevents him from using the Force, Maul is brought aboard a Jedi Cruiser destined for Coruscant, escorted by Ahsoka."

"Told of Palpatine’s identity, Windu orders Anakin to wait at the Jedi Temple while he arrests Sidious with Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin. Sidious kills Tiin, Fisto, and Kolar and duels Windu. He attacks Mace using lightning, which the Jedi Master deflects back at Sidious. Anakin arrives and pleads that Sidious be allowed to stand trial, but Windu says he’s too dangerous to be spared. Anakin makes a fateful decision, stopping Windu’s attack by severing his hand. Sidious blasts Windu with lightning, sending him through the broken window. Anakin pledges allegiance to Sidious, who grants him the name Darth Vader. He tells Anakin to go to the Jedi Temple and kill everyone there—that will make him strong enough with the dark side to save Padmé."

"Ahsoka and Maul sense a strong disturbance in the Force."

19 BBY: ORDER 66

"Sidious issues Order 66. Clone troopers across the galaxy obey their inhibitor chips and attack the Jedi, decimating the Order."

"Commander Cody targets Obi-Wan Kenobi on Utapau. The Jedi survives the attack, escapes offworld, and is rescued by Senator Organa. Aboard the Jedi Cruiser Tribunal, Rex manages to tell Ahsoka to “find Fives” before trying to kill her. She evades Rex’s fire and flees from his troopers. Commander Grey and his clone battalion execute Depa Billaba on Kaller. oda avoids death by killing Commander Gree and Captain Jek, and then escapes Kashyyyk with help from Chewbacca and Tarfful. On a Jedi Cruiser above Bracca, Jaro Tapal is cut down by clones from the 13th battalion, sabotaging the warship before he dies. Captain Jag downs Plo Koon’s starfighter during a patrol flight on contested Cato Neimoidia. Ki-Adi-Mundi is cut down by Commander Bacara’s Galactic Marines during infantry maneuvers on Mygeeto. Luminara Unduli is captured on Kashyyyk. After her execution, the Inquisitors spread rumors of her survival to ensnare other fugitive Jedi. Stass Allie is blasted by Commander Neyo while flying BARC speeders in a mop-up operation on Saleucami. Commander Bly gives the order to shoot Aayla Secura amid Felucia’s colorful fungi."

"Ahsoka prevents other clones from killing the imprisoned Maul. She releases him to create a diversion. While Maul wreaks havoc aboard the Tribunal, Ahsoka activates a trio of astromechs to help her evade Rex’s troops. Ahsoka locates Fives’ records, learning what happened to him and that Rex suspected the clones’ inhibitor chips have some ulterior purpose. Ahsoka subdues Rex and removes his inhibitor chip. Maul destroys the Tribunal’s hyperdrive, sending the doomed Jedi Cruiser careening toward the surface of a remote moon."

"Bail Organa arrives at the Jedi Temple to investigate the uprising and is confronted by clone troopers. He retreats under fire."

"Anakin, now known as Darth Vader and backed by the 501st Legion, marches on the Jedi Temple and slaughters its defenders. He shows no mercy, believing that the dark side is the only pathway to the unnatural powers he must command to save Padmé. As his rage and lust for power swell, not even younglings hiding in the Jedi Council chambers are safe from his lightsaber. Elsewhere, young Grogu survives a clone trooper attack but is haunted by his memories of the event."

"Anakin obeys Sidious’ command and kills the Separatist leaders on Mustafar, shutting down their droid armies and ending the Clone Wars."

"The Senate holds a special session, during which Palpatine—now scarred after his battle with Mace—details the Jedi plot to kill him and take control of the Senate. He proclaims the Republic is to be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire."

"Obi-Wan and Yoda fight their way into the Jedi Temple and recalibrate a signal to warn any surviving Jedi away."

"Padmé arrives on Mustafar, unknowingly bringing along Obi-Wan as a stowaway. Anakin uses the Force to choke her. As C-3PO and R2-D2 tend to Padmé, Anakin and Obi-Wan fight a running duel through the lava flows of Mustafar’s mining complex."

"On Coruscant, Yoda confronts Sidious and the two duel in the Senate Chamber, with Sidious hurling Senate pods at his Jedi enemy. Ascendant with dark-side power, Sidious proves too tough a foe for Yoda, who flees their duel, evading clone troopers sent to hunt him, and is whisked away by Bail Organa in an airspeeder. Sidious senses his new apprentice is in danger and hurries to Mustafar."

"Anakin is left maimed and burned after dueling Obi-Wan on Mustafar. Obi-Wan takes Anakin’s lightsaber and leaves him to die. Anakin survives and is encased in life-preserving black armor. As Darth Vader, he becomes the subject of rumors as the Emperor’s servant and enforcer"

Padme gives birth to Luke and Leia, then she dies. Bail Organa takes Leia to Alderaan and Obi-Wan takes Luke to the Lars' farm on Tatooine, going into exile there, while Yoda is on Dagobah.

"Ahsoka and Rex bury the clones at the Tribunal’s crash site. She leaves her lightsaber behind to find a new path."

19 BBY: GALAXY IN DARKNESS

"Tarkin tells Lama Su that the Kaminoans’ contracts are void and the need for future clones is being questioned."

"Padmé, appearing to still be pregnant, is laid to rest after a solemn funeral procession on Naboo."

"Mas Amedda presides at an Imperial rally held before Coruscant’s Jedi Temple to celebrate the defeat of the Order."

"Sidious abandons Vader on the desert planet Gattering with orders to seize a Jedi’s lightsaber and make it his own. Vader travels to a dark-side locus on Mustafar and bends Infil’a’s kyber crystal to his will, making it bleed red. By compelling the Force to serve his purposes, Vader takes an essential step in his journey as a Sith."

"Sidious puts Vader in charge of the Inquisitors, Force users who once served the light but were seduced or brutalized into following the dark side and are now responsible for hunting down and killing the galaxy’s fugitive Jedi. Vader proves a ruthless taskmaster, brutalizing his new underlings in combat training sessions and eliminating those who fail to live up to the standards demanded by him and the Emperor."

"Sidious orders Vader to lure the Jedi Order’s fugitive archivist Jocasta Nu to Coruscant’s Jedi Temple and capture her. An enraged Vader kills Commander Fox after clone troopers under his command fire on the Sith Lord at the Jedi Temple. Nu explains to Vader what he’s failed to realize: Sidious wants the memory crystal and its list so he can find a potential replacement for his apprentice. Vader kills Nu, tells Sidious she died trying to escape, and crushes the crystal."

"The Empire builds up its forces and begins enlisting and training conscript stormtroopers to replace the Republic’s clone soldiers."

"The Empire bombards Kamino’s cities, destroying all traces of the cloning program that played a critical role in the Clone Wars."

SOURCES & NOTES:

Star Wars Timelines by Kristin Baver, Jason Fry, Cole Horton, Amy Richau, and Clayton Sandell is the primary source for much of this, anything in quotation marks is sourced from here unless otherwise noted. This timeline is only quoting a small minority of what's available in the book, so it's recommended that you check it out for yourselves!

I have done my best to put everything in order even within the specific years, noting where I'm not 100% sure of the sequence of events.

If a "c.[YEAR]" is included, the spot is estimated, not hard fact, but in general it's a pretty trustworthy placement! Except for birthdays--they're not placed directly on the timeline, so I just kind of threw them in at the end most times.

Observation: Holy crap, the Clone Wars was NUTS.

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 3: The Escape ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word Count: 2600>

Warnings: female masturbation

Series Masterlist

Din Djarin was the first Mandalorian warrior to set foot on Mandalore wearing full armour in decades. It wasn't an act of bravery or rebellion, although it would have certainly been interpreted that way. Din didn't know any different. In fact, apart from the odd glare, he hadn't even assumed he'd caused any trouble upon his approach to the palace.

He was so, very wrong.

"Moff Gideon, sir— a Mandalorian was spotted walking through the princess' palace back on Mandalore. He was seen with a child. We are led to believe that his entry to the palace was not authorized by an Imperial, but by the princess herself." one trooper informed, standing as straight and still as could be. Moff Gideon blinked momentarily and turned to face the bay window of the Imperial light cruiser. He looked amongst the stars as he contemplated the trooper's revelation.

You'd granted palace entry to a Mandalalorian in secret? That was the first sign of trouble. You, despite the front you upheld, were no longer the Manda'lor, but a captive of the Empire. You knew fine well that all entry to Mandalore must be granted by Moff Gideon himself… and this was the first time he'd heard of this. Nevertheless, Gideon was not one to panic. He remained calm and collected, although his blood boiled at your audacity to go against his commands.

"A child, you say?" Moff Gideon hummed casually, adjusting his black leather glove. Of course there was a specific child on his mind, but Moff Gideon knew better than to let himself worry over that. If a Mandalorian warrior had returned to Mandalore, it could be the first sign of mutiny. The first sign of your wishes to regain power and solitude to Mandalore the Great. "Do we know anything about the Mandalorian?" Moff Gideon questioned, deciding that the Mandalorian was his main concern.

"He was dressed in full beskar armour. Helmet included. According to ISB records, the child is an Imperial bounty. It seems he has been in possession by the Mandalorian for quite some time." The trooper informed, his entire body stiff.

That was when Moff Gideon knew for sure— it was the child he'd sought after for the past six months. The child who possessed the bloodstream of a force-sensitive, a Jedi even.

And now it just so happened that the Child was on Mandalore, the planet Moff Gideon held power over. It was perfect. Everything was falling into place for the Imperial reign. If the Moff could just get his hands on the child…

"Prepare my ship," Moff Gideon instructed, raising a finger. "Set course to Mandalore."

—-—-—

There wasn't a single room in the palace that Din wasn't in awe of. Now that he and Grogu had found comfort in your quarters, he checked out onto the balcony trying to find a good view of the Razor Crest. Upon inspection, it seemed like Imperial troopers were checking out Din's ship, which could never be a good thing. He turned back to you and watched as you fiddled with Grogu's ears.

You were beautiful; with the softest and most delicate features he'd ever had the opportunity to look at. Your voice was as sweet as honey and your eyes sparkled like the brightest star in the whole galaxy. Din was trying to work out when exactly would be the best time for him to explain the little marriage situation the Armorer had proposed to him before he left. It was clear as day that you already didn't like his creed; which meant he couldn't exactly be honest with you about his intentions.

He couldn't say 'Oh, my cut of the deal is that I marry you. And once we are united, I help you regain power over Mandalore, but we do it my way. We do it the traditional way. The way of the Watch'. You'd simply never allow it. No… Din had to be more cunning. He had to form a plan.

He wasn't happy to lie to you. You seemed nice enough, and your heart was in the right place. Already Grogu had taken a liking to you which was certainly a rarity.

Din slowly searched around your bedroom. It was like a library, shelves upon shelves filled with romance novels. You were clearly a hopeless romantic, and perhaps that could serve in Din's favour. And you'd already formed an attachment with his son. That's when a cord struck Din.

He could always just… make you fall in love with him. Make you want to marry him.

Din Djarin never had the strongest moral compass. He did what he had to do to support his Creed and this was simply just one of those occasions. The Armorer had said so herself, the way of his creed was the right way. It was the only way he has ever known. His gaze flicked back over to you, and his heart melted. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad making you his wife after all.

There was a slight problem. Din had never had a long term romantic relationship in his life. He didn't know how to flirt and he was afraid over how long it might take him to successfully seduce you. He had to get in your good books someway or another.

After a prolonged silence, you were the first to speak.

"I think we're in trouble already," you swallowed, looking up at Din. "I never expected a Child of the Watch to come rescue me… but you showing up on Mandalore dressed like a Mandalorian was a bad idea." Din blinked momentarily, but didn't say a word. His silence only urged you to continue your explanation. "No Mandalorian has been brave enough to return to Mandalore wearing full beskar and a helmet. I predict the Imps have already sent word to the Moff."

"You're the Manda'lor though," Din pointed out. "Surely you have some say in the matter?"

You practically cringed. You weren't really the Manda'lor— but that wasn't important right now. Sure, you'd tell him eventually that Moff Gideon had overthrown your position of power. You'd tell him once you regained control of Mandalore. You took Din's hands and sighed. "Swear that I can put my faith in you to protect me."

"I swear," Din promised, running his thumb over your knuckles. You swore that your heart skipped a beat at the menial yet intimate touch. "So princess. What's the plan?"

"We have to leave the palace. Go into hiding. I have no doubt Moff Gideon and his men are already on their way to investigate."

"Wait—," Din paused, his suspicion already rising. "I know Mandalore is under Imperial rule but who is this Moff and why is he so important?"

You scrunched up your nose, not prepared to provide him with the truth. As it turned out, you and Din were both ready to lie to each other. You expected him to trust you, and he expected you to trust him, but neither of you realised that you both had questionable intentions.

"He governs the planet. He's kind of the boss man," you said quietly. That wasn't exactly false. You were just… sugar coating the truth. "Where do you hail from, Din?"

"Uh- complicated question… I uh…" Din pondered. He didn't even remember the name of the planet where he was born. He was taken away by the Watch when he was just a four year old orphan. He went through his training all around the galaxy, never staying still for one moment, until eventually his tribe went into hiding on Nevarro. He sighed. "Nevarro." Assuming that was the easy answer.

You'd never heard of such a place. "Do you have friends on Nevarro?"

He wasn't sure if friends was the right word. He knew people, sure. Many of the citizens over there were in debt to Din. "I guess."

"People who can help us? We could… form an alliance," you smiled as you gathered your information. "To rebel against the Empire."

"You're sounding more like a politician for the New Republic than a Mandalorian warrior." Din scoffed, and you supposed he had a point. You didn't want Mandalore to overrule the galaxy. You were fine with the New Republican reign. From your own awareness, General Leia Organa of the New Republic was actually the daughter of your mother's old friend— Senator Padmé Amidala. But what were the chances that some random child of the Watch had any connection to the New Republic? Still, there was no harm in asking.

"Do you know any New Republic fighters?" you pondered, holding Grogu tight into your chest. You were cradling him in your arms as he had fallen asleep during your conversation, his gentle snores filling your bedroom.

It just so happened that Din did know a New Republic fighter and she just so happened to reside on Nevarro. Carasynthia Dune of Alderaan. Din nodded his head in affirmation and your grin only grew wider. "This might actually work." you confessed with a shaky exhale.

"No offence princess, but the New Republic already has too much on their plate to help you regain control of Mandalore, they're already still fighting the remnants of the Empire." Din huffed.

Din had a point— but what he didn't know was that the great Manda'lor was an Imperial ISB officer. If you could just get to Leia Organa and explain your situation, as the daughter of an old family friend… maybe then you'd gain the support of the New Republic. You were a slave of the Empire but you were desperate to break free of their hold.

"Take me to your friend… the New Republic fighter." you told the Mandalorian, beaming so brightly that your eyes twinkled with delight. Din wasn't one to catch feelings, but he swore his heart stopped every time he caught a glimpse of your lips curling into a smile.

"Now?" Din asked, shuffling around awkwardly.

"Yes," you confirmed. "I'm afraid we're already running on borrowed time."

—-—-—

Din was a good pilot and he knew how to sneak around when necessary, which meant, yourself, the Mandalorian, and his son, were able to leave Mandalore in one piece without the authority noticing. Din promised you he'd make the jump to hyperspace as soon as it was safe to do so, your anxiety already bubbling away as you considered the probability of Moff Gideon and his troopers already raiding your palace in search of you. No doubt that the moment they realised you were missing, they'd send out a whole search party for you.

Your nerves weren't lost on Din. In fact, he made his bed — something he never did — and encouraged you to lay in it. "May as well get some rest princess, we'll be in the air for a while." he grumbled, trying to resist the thought of you sleeping in the same place he slept every night. He wasn't prepared to give up his bed for anyone but you were the princess of Mandalore and potentially his future wife. And he'd known you for the best part of an hour. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around it all.

You were uncertain at first, but you decided he had a point. His bed was so much smaller than the one back home. Everytime you moved the slightest, it croaked and screeched. You could feel every indent and wire underneath the thin excuse of a mattress and you couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly sleep at night. Unless he slept in his full Beskar… it must've been so uncomfortable for him.

Din nursed Grogu while you caught a couple hours of sleep, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. Not once did he expect to be returning back to Nevarro so fast, but he decided it would be a good thing. He could report back to the Armorer whilst you and Cara spoke.

He was tired too. This whole day so far had been exhausting, but rather than scooching next to you in his bed, he opted to get cozy in the cockpit. Throwing a blanket over himself and Grogu, Din managed to close his eyes.

As you had imagined, your sleep on the Razor Crest wasn't very satisfying and you woke up every few minutes. Staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about the Mandalorian. He was serving his duty to protect you, believing that you are the rightful ruler of Mandalore. And for the first time, you felt guilty for being so dishonest to him. He'd shown you nothing but care and compassion from the moment he met you, even going as far to comfort you on the grand staircase. He wasn't offended when you expressed your disdain towards his creed— at least, he didn't show it. Din Djarin seemed like a good, genuine person. And you deserve someone good and genuine… Cursing yourself, you snapped yourself out of those thoughts. There was no time to initiate relationships, and you could not let yourself fall into the trap of caring about him. That would only screw up your plan even more. You just had to focus on regaining control of Mandalore.

But he was a masked warrior who had the caring nature of a prince and the body of a God. He was a father. You knew there was so much more to him than what meets the eye and so… maybe it wouldn't be too bad to find out more about the mysterious Mandalorian, in some way or another. Yes, gaining power of Mandalore was your first priority but would it really be so bad to let yourself get close to Din in the process?

You'd been isolated your whole life and to say that you craved love and romance was an understatement. You looked into the hull of the ship where it was dark and quiet, and just about made out the sleeping silhouette of Din who was laying in his pilot chair. Just the gleam of his shiny beskar and his broad shoulders.

Kriff— he was hot.

And the sexual tension between you both was undeniable.

You bit your lower lip and let your hand wander down your tunic, your fingers nervously gracing the waistband of your underwear. Touching yourself in his bed would be so wrong… and yet you couldn't resist it. Your eyes felt heavy as you watched him, his chest rising up and down as he slept peacefully. Your finger dipped into your panties and you bit down onto the thin blanket in order to suppress a moan as you began to rub yourself to the thought of him.

He'd touched you plenty of times...his big, strong, gloved fingers grabbing you and holding you… it was so easy to get lost in the thoughts. Your eyes fluttered shut as you continued to play with yourself, secretly hoping that the Mandalorian would find you making a mess in his bed and punish you in some way or another.

You wondered if he'd be rough and heavy handed… or if he'd be sweet and compassionate. Either way, you were completely riled up and on the verge of hitting your climax when a loud flurry of beeping came from the cockpit. You gasped, your eyes snapping open and you shuffled to sit upright in the bed.

"Grogu," Din grumbled tiredly, and for the first time, you heard his voice raw and unmodulated. He'd taken off his helmet. "Go back to sleep. Told you not to press buttons when I'm not watching. You'll get us in trouble."

And your heart done a loop-de-loop.

You had just met the Mandalorian and already he had you wrapped around his finger.

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[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Evil Unmasked Part 4 AU (aka Vader visits Padmé’s tomb)

Darth Vader was, in a word, exhausted.

Truth be told, whatever slim patience he had had for the machinations of Palpatine’s propaganda machine and the role it had carved out for him was all but gone. He could no longer recall how many interviews he had been forced to play along with, how many holo captures he had had taken of his visage for Imperial distribution. He had figured Palpatine would use his compliance as a tool to promote the Empire as the righteous governmental installment, and himself as the rightful Emperor. Still, it was becoming both grating, and infuriating. Vader was relieved that the media circus had, for now, been foiled and was beginning to die down. He had lost count of how many times he had been pinned down to denounce the Jedi order and explain why he had turned against them, as well as why he had changed his name.

Eight months post the fall of the Republic, and the calamity of the aftermath had begun to settle into the new normalcy. Vader was no longer hounded by hoards of reporters, no longer approached solely to speak out for promotional purposes. This was his first break from the obligations of either hunting down and eliminating stray Jedi, or speaking out on Palpatine’s behalf to praise his leadership. As soon as the opportunity arose, he asked for (demanded) his first day off. Palpatine had given him a quizzical, mildly displeased look but allowed it with a disinterested hand wave. The location he’d chosen for his travel had been decided long in advance, constantly pushed to the back of his mind but never truly forgotten. Vader hadn’t been anywhere near the sector for years; the planet’s sunny skies, vast green fields of grass and tranquil environment seemingly welcoming him with open arms. The nature and its beautiful trappings knew nothing of his past, nothing of the dark deeds he had committed - nor of the fact that he had stolen one of its most favourite daughters away.

Naboo was a beautiful place, with its lush scenery and its vast crystal clear lakes. Even with the sombre intentions behind Vader’s visit in mind, he found it a refreshing and peaceful break from the insanity life had become. The serene, bedazzled home world of Emperor Palpatine was nothing short of a paradise. But it was also the home world of Vader’s beloved, lost Padmé.

That Palpatine could be the native son of such a stunning planet was irony in its highest form. Padmé was much more suited for the inviting greenery, and the richly bedazzled background most citizens of Naboo had enjoyed. The gungans, shut out from society and equality before the Separatist attack, seemed so far removed from the background Padmé and Palpatine were of. Padmé had been born a Naberrie - that in itself a prestige; elected Queen at fourteen, and then continuing to become the senator and ambassador of her birth planet. The planet’s inhabitants had adored her. They adored her valor, her beauty, and her compassion. Her childhood made such a stark contrast to Vader’s own. Padmé had been raised in harmony; with her own autonomy, with responsibilities, yes - but with the power to make lasting changes. With her inherited money and her stunning appearance, her heritage and her wit - Padmé had had all the trappings sufficient of making a just, good woman.

Vader had come from nothing, with no legacy, no father, and no autonomy. He had lived impoverished as a child slave barely scraping by, fearing either death by starvation or illness, or by extermination. Watto, as his master and owner, had threatened him into submission by reminding him of the chip in his neck; reminding him of that fact that would he revolt - both he and his mother were doomed. Padmé never had to fear for her parents’, or her sister’s lives. Not even when she was with child, was the terror of her dying in childbirth that occupied Vader’s mind every hour of every day, of any concern to her. She did not fear death, but then she had never been faced death as Vader had. Perhaps, if she too had been raised on a desert planet, no more than an item to be exploited, with only her mother as a guide and confidant would she have understood his plight. Maybe if she, too, had lost her parents and failed in her valiant effort to save them, would she have understood his fear of watching her fade away. In the end, as yet another cruel twist of fate; Vader himself had brought about her demise. In the end, all he had was himself - and perhaps, that was for the better.

The tomb of senator Padmé Amidala was a vast monument in and of itself, but at the same time surprisingly sparse on decor. Padmé had never been a woman of simplicity when it came to appearance or presentation, but her final resting place was almost humble. Solid stone encased her now, protecting her withering bones from the harsh light of day. Now, as night reigned supreme and the stars peppering the skies provided the only light; Vader thought it a bleak and gloomy sight. He would have envisioned something more grandiose. The style was simple; cream coloured alabaster pillars supported a raised, arched roof. Vader traversed down a winding path or marble stairs, resolute in his resolve despite the unwanted guilt that was constantly nagging at the back of his mind and wearing him down. It made his skin crawl, and he stopped when he came face to face with the single ornament guarding his wife’s grave. Beneath the arched ceiling, a monument had been erected in her honour. Large, lifelike and meticulously detailed; it too was cut from sandstone and alabaster. It was a magnificent statue, portraying Padmé as she had appeared in life during her years as Queen and regent of Naboo. Its face seemed to peer down at Vader, as if to condemn him for trespassing. As if to demean him for daring to disturb her eternal peace.

Ignoring the judgmental stare he could not shake, Vader hurriedly brushed past the statue. With one wave of his hand, he let the Force gently guide the heavy stone door blocking the entrance to the mausoleum portion of the monument aside. Inky darkness pooled inside the small crypt, the starlight barely spilling past the threshold. A cold breeze seemed to emerge from within, both as a plea asking him to leave; and a lull, begging him to enter. Vader shut his eyes for a moment, allowing bith the crisp chill of the night and the stuffy air from within the tomb to wash over him. The breeze ran through his hair, and for a second, he recalled the gentle touch of his wife’s slender fingers combing through the unruly curls. He remembered her soft skin, her plush lips. Opening his eyes, he knew what he must do. He held no fear of the dead, and he was convinced that Padmé’s ghost would not be enraged by his visit.

But neither would she be pleased. Vader imagined she may weep if she could see him now.

Not surprisingly, Vader had found himself unable to attend Padmé's funeral wake. He had watched the holo screen broadcast of the procession in real time, as it was distributed to the public grieving an icon lost. The ceremony itself had been lavish; Queen Apailana dressed in the regal mourning attire. Emperor Palpatine had made it more than clear that there was no way for Vader to be present without drawing unwanted attention by his pre-Empire affiliation with Padmé as - what the public thought to be - a very close friend. Indeed, his absence may have been even odder but in hindsight Vader couldn’t have changed his lot had he tried to. And he had tried, to no avail. At the same time, it hadn’t stung as much to give into his master's wishes - knowing it was his fault Padmé would breathe no more. He had killed her. Part of him thought then, as did he now, that he hadn’t deserved showing his face in such a sacred rite. She was so far above him, and he was so far beneath her.

She was an Angel, and he was her murderer.

Entering the crypt with trepidation and reverence, Vader paused in the doorway. He had to duck to fit through the narrow entrance; the additional height of his new cybernetic legs was still cumbersome, and he hadn’t quite gotten used to the equally freshly fashioned prosthetic arms either with their larger hands and longer forearms. It was just a matter of time, really, but Vader felt it to be an unwelcome hindrance. He had been promised unlimited power by his master, instead he had been maimed and left for dead by Kenobi - and he alone bore the blame for Padmé’s demise. Padmé, whose remains were just within his reach. Padmé, whose spirit must surely despise him now. As he traversed with a solemn unease farther into the cavern; Vader became aware of two things.

First was the stone coffin holding his beloved’s lifeless body. Its lid was adorned by yet another skilfully crafted sculpture; this time a likeness of Padmé’s visage as she had been presented during her funeral wake. Her hair had been loose and wavy as she was paraded through the streets, decorated only with tiny, brittle flowers. Clad in a flowing blue gown, hands clasped over her swollen belly; face so lifelike she had seemed to be merely asleep. As Vader had made himself watch the painful holoscreening - witnessing his beloved one last time from afar - he had entertained the notion that if he’d only been present, he could have kissed her cold lips and she would have woken up. So many fairytales spoke of true love’s kiss, and of it raising a seemingly dead lover from their eternal slumber. Vader’s last kiss shared with his wife had proved to be the kiss of death. This blatant mimicry of Padmé’s visage - a far cry of her beauty - had been expected.

What Vader had not expected was the glass showcase propped by the coffin's side. Upon an indigo satin pillow rested Padmé’s japor snippet. Slightly faded with wear and tear, wooden and as intricately hand carved as the day he had given it to her. It had been granted its own separate display, and Vader scoffed at the notion that any of Padmé’s many handmaidens or realtives would have understood but a sliver of its importance to her - and, subsequently, to him. Still, it had been singled out as a token, and it had been clear even to those not in the know that the simple jewelry had been cherished by its owner.

Swallowing hard, Vader slowly approached the small cased necklace. Even in the dull darkness, his iridescent golden eyes helped him focus on the tiny trinket. A mixture of shame and bitterness welled up inside as his gaze took in every painstakingly crafted detail, and for just a moment - his serious expression softened. Gone were the harsh lines, gone was the composed and well rehearsed authority he had adapted since his shift. For that brief moment, Vader’s chest felt tight and a strangled, choked breath escaped his parted lips.

Anger was quick to overthrow the suffocating sadness. Pursing his lips, Vader forced himself to turn away. Instead, his eyes fell again upon Padmé’s stone grave. He didn’t deserve to be here, he didn’t deserve this attempt at paying her respect with meaningless, silent apologies. He had put her in that coffin, he had snuffed out her light. As if moving of their own volition, he found his legs were carrying him closer to the cold marble against his will. One gloved hand reached out to hesitantly touch the surface, but all Vader's cybernetic fingertips could detect was hard edges. Nothing concrete, no nuance. Vader was bereft of something as simple as the smooth, cool kiss of masterly crafted sandstone. The soft curves and gentle lines came off as no more intricate than the billions of grains that made up the sands of Tatooine.

Clenching his jaw shut, Vader's hand curled into a tight fist. It shook as he squeezed it shut; Padmé’s desperate, pleading hazel eyes flashing before his inner vision. She’d been so frail, so distraught, so horrified. She had never betrayed him, he had betrayed her. This was all his fault.

Padmé was dead because of him. Only him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vader wished for nothing but to be offered the chance to retrace his step and right his wrongs. He wished to relive the moment in which he had lashed out, if only to forgive her and believe her words. If only to take her in his arms, to heed her warnings and run far away. Just him, her, and their child. Together. The child that had perished alongside his mother, never allowed to get to know her tender soul.

An unyielding, intense burn spread like a wildfire up the bridge of Vader's nose, and bled into his cheeks. A stinging prickle settled behind his eyes, and despite his stubborn attempt at remaining calm and detached, dismissing his pain - scalding tears welled up to pool at the corners of his eyes. In one fell swoop, they disregarded his wishes and rolled in heavy globs down his pale cheeks. Vader allowed his anger and his despair to mingle with his guilt. In an act of rare surrender, he let his walls crumble to dust and acknowledged that he had made a terrible mistake. He had allowed Palpatine to twist his mind, to entice him with empty promises. But it was he who had believed those lies; he had been the one to choke his own wife in blind rage.

Covering his face with his free hand, Vader did his best to restrain his grief in a feeble attempt at maintaining dignity. Biting back sobs, he wept silently - shedding the final pieces of his past with each tear. A burden that was his alone to carry, but its weight slightly lighter to bear despite the dull ache it left behind.

When he eventually vacated the tomb; daylight had begun to spill over the fields and hills, its orange glow warming the dew lining every straw of grass and creating a thin veil of mist. The air was sweet, its scent a jumble of flowers. No trace of his secret visit did Vader leave behind, but something inside of him had changed irreparably. Something had been left behind, laid to rest alongside the lost Queen.

If he could destroy the one thing he had loved more than life itself, what mattered any other life on his conscience. If his Angel was dead, Vader was already cursed. Whoever stood in his way was but a stepping stone on his way towarda greatness.

Every citizen in the Galaxy was but an animal - and he would slaughter them as animals, if need be.

*****

I wanted to write something sad, and I figured since this iteration of Vader is quite different to the canon one - this would be yet another way for him to shed his past, and to become even more of a propaganda and political tool. Also, I felt like writing something sad and angsty and I seldom write about Padmé, so consider this a little treat for those of you who - much like I - enjoy sadness and pain.

Ao3 link below:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029582/chapters/79632736

[swtorpadawan]

The Only Ones Who Can

Author’s Notes: With thanks to the lovely and amazing @chaosandwonder​ , for sending me the prompt “fifty reasons to touch someone” 30. ... as comfort  (Sorry this took so long! I can’t draw like you, but I can offer you this for your kindness. Sorry that I’m a slow writer!) She’s graciously granted me permission to use her OC in this piece. This story take place during the Battle of Corellia during the Class stories.

Corellan Halcyon splashed cold water on his face from the basin of the refresher, allowing the cool sensation to refresh him.

He had seen combat on dozens of worlds, but never on this scale before. Tens of thousands of Republic and Imperial soldiers were fighting all over Coronet City, most often in brutal block-by-block fighting. He couldn’t begin to calculate the total casualties of it all, much less the long-term impact of leaving so many citizens homeless. He’d once heard from Rusk – who’d been fighting wars since before Corellan was born – that urban fighting was the bloodiest imaginable and he now saw the truth of it. Choosing to fight such a battle in a city was madness, and yet he was being forced to do exactly that.

Corellan knew all this bloodshed was only furthering the Emperor’s plans. Whatever massive loss of life was required for his ritual the Battle of Corellia was certainly feeding into that. Somewhere out there, Tol Braga was orchestrating all of this under the Emperor’s control. Corellan was determined to prevent the Emperor’s dark work from coming to pass. The schemes he’d already stopped on Belsavis and Voss had, at their core, been precision attacks hidden amidst the backdrop of larger military operations, designed with the intent of triggering a chain reaction of apocalyptic events. A metaphorical hypodermic needle of poison to the heart.  

By comparison, Corellia, with its brutal all-out warfare, was been like a mallet to the head.

Corellan’s forces, both his own crew and those Jedi who Master Satele had placed under his command, had served magnificently thus far, prevailing against vast numbers of Imperials and Sith. Most of the Jedi reinforcements he’d been sent had been inexperienced when they’d arrived on Corellia, ‘raw recruits’ as Rusk had called them. Now, however, they were fighting like hardened combat veterans. They had already helped liberate most of planet’s famed industrial base, turning that military production in the Republic’s favor. Now they were gradually closing in on the government district.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Corellan and his people were winning. The Republic was pushing the Empire back.    

Now standing in the refresher of a makeshift Republic command center in Axial Park, he had just a few minutes to collect himself before the next mission. He’d sent Lord Scourge – who had little interest in saving lives on Corellia except as a necessity to foil the Emperor’s plans – to conduct reconnaissance and attacks of opportunity behind enemy lines. (He was remarkably proficient at it, and no Imperial soldier or officer was likely to challenge the Sith Lord’s presence. Even if rumors of a Sith Lord going rogue did emerge, it would only sow dissent among the Empire’s forces.) Doc was treating wounded soldiers and civilians in a nearby med-center. Teeseven was helping to get the Republic’s local communications systems online so they could coordinate larger operations from here. Kira – at Corellan’s insistence and over her very verbal protests – was recuperating back on their ship, having not slept in two days of fighting. He knew he would need her fresh and ready when the final confrontation came.

So it was that Sergeant Rusk would be joining him for his push against the Emperor’s Imperial Guard at Axial Park. It was a task the Chagrian was well suited for, given his long history of combat.

As he dried his face with a disposable towel, Corellan looked up at himself in the mirror. He found he barely recognized the Jedi looking back at him. He was freshly shaved, but his eyes looked sunken, his face thin. This was what war did to people.

Tython feels like a lifetime ago. He thought to himself.

But he had learned by now that putting on a brave face for those under his command was part of whatever it was that he contributed to the Jedi Order and to the Galactic Republic. So he rolled his shoulders, straightened his armor and robes, ran a comb from a Republic field kit through his hair, and prepared to return to the action.

His crew needed him. The Jedi task force needed him. Corellia – the planet from which his parents apparently came from – needed him. The galaxy itself needed him. (Or so Master Satele had said. Corellan had his doubts, but this was unquestionably his mission.) He took reassurance in the fact that he was needed. That Corellan Halcyon had a place in the galaxy where he belonged.

Corellan couldn’t explain it; he wouldn’t have even admitted it out loud to anyone besides Kira, but somehow, he knew they were going to succeed. It felt arrogant to even think such a thing, given the immense loss of life and after everything that had happened up until now. But for the first time since escaping the Emperor’s Fortress, the Jedi Knight was starting to envision a final victory.  

He was clinging to that confidence right now. At this moment, after days of almost constant fighting and weeks of missions all over the galaxy, that belief was keeping him on his feet.

I can do this. Corellan told himself.

Now refreshed if not rested, he stepped out of the refresher, prepared to head back to the gathering site to meet Rusk and the Jedi strike teams. They would need to be given their assignments. They would need to hear a few words from their (somewhat reluctant) field commander. They would need to be led.

It was then that he felt a nearby tremor nearby through the Force, his consciousness reached out on reflex as he felt a knot of pain and fatigue, coming from the passageway behind the refreshers. Corellan ducked his head around the corner to see if he could find the source of the disturbance.  

Seated in a fetal position on a pair of crash seats was a human female with arms wrapped around her legs and her head – crowned by her intricately braided long dark brown hair – buried in her knees. Clearly, she appeared deeply troubled. Corellan was surprised to see that she wore the long robes of a Jedi master as his brow furrowed in concern.

“Forgive me.” He kept his voice low, but clear as he intruded on her privacy. “Can I assist you, Master?”

Startled, the Jedi looked up at him. He noted she seemed young to hold the rank of master, appearing to be no more than a year or two older than he was, if that. Her eyes – a lovely shade of amber – were bloodshot with exhaustion while her bronze skin looked almost ashen. He saw no tears in her eyes, but she’d clearly been holding in a wellspring of emotion. As her eyes focused on him, she blinked in recognition.

“I know you.” She brushed a stray hair from her eyes. “You’re the Hero of Tython, aren’t you? Master Satele put you in charge of Order’s main task force on Corellia.”

He waved a dismissive hand at her use of that honorarium. Other Jedi might call him that; he was simply who he was.

“Just call me Corellan.” He cautiously leaned closer. “Can I… forgive me Master, but you look like you’re in distress?”

Suddenly self-conscious, the Jedi Master remembered herself. She lowered her feet to the floor and stood up, straightening her robes.  

“I’m Master Hiraya Manawari.” She gave him a weak smile. “You can call me Hiraya.”

Corellan’s eyebrows raised in recognition.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Hiraya.” He bowed, his arm crossing across his chest. “I’ve heard of your exploits. You’ve achieved some remarkable things for the order and the Republic. I’m glad to finally meet you.” He paused, recalling the details he’d heard of her current assignment. “I was told you were also leading a mixed task force. An alliance you formed coming from several worlds.”

“I was.” She stammered. “I mean… I am. But I’ve just received some troubling news.” Hiraya sighed. “I don’t know if I’m fit to be commanding anyone, right now.”

By his own reckoning, Corellan had very little experience counseling others, particularly not those in a position of leadership in his own Order. He briefly considered sending for some other Jedi more suitable to this task.

There’s no one left to call on. He quickly realized. Bela Kiwiiks was busy on the other side of the city helping the displaced refugees. Jun Seros and Corin Tok had both been killed in the fighting days ago, before Corellan had even arrived. The masters of the Green Jedi were either dead or otherwise occupied, desperately trying to save their schismatic order. The other Jedi he’d encountered seemed to be even less experienced than Corellan himself.    

He wasn’t conceited enough to believe that the Force had drawn him to her. But he seemed to be the only one here, now.

I must try. He swallowed.

“Will you tell me what’s happened?”

Hiraya chewed her lip in consideration, before evidently deciding to confide in him.

“My mentor in the Order… has fallen to the dark side.” She finally answered, letting out an exhale that conveyed a wave of bottled-up emotions. “He’s commanding a contingent of Sith forces here on Corellia.”

Corellan absorbed that, finding himself unsuprised. Jedi falling to the dark side was certainly nothing new to him, but privately he’d hoped he would have been informed by the Council about this development given his overall mission on Corellia.

If I’m forced to divert my attention towards another target, it could take days…

He stopped, embarrassed at himself. He’d processed her words as a military commander and strategist, not as an active listener. Not as someone trying to help her.

I’m already failing at this.

She continued, apparently unaware of his discourtesy.

“The council has ordered me to… to neutralize him.” Hiraya emphasized the word, as she sniffed, clearly aware of the implications of such a command. She cast her eyes downward. “I don’t know if I can bring myself to stand against him.”

He understood that he needed to say something now, even if he wasn’t very good at this.

“Tell me about your mentor?” he inquired.

“Well, his name is Master…” she started to answer.

But Corellan had immediately realized he’d erred again, asking the wrong question. He was thinking like someone trying to solve her problem for her, not helping her to work through it. The name and deeds of Hiraya’s mentor weren’t the important part of this conversation, as they weren’t the root cause of her turmoil.

“Forgive me.” He interrupted, raising a forestalling hand. “I meant to ask who your mentor was to you?”

Hiraya seemed taken aback for a second, but quickly recovered. Corellan could almost feel her powerful intellect turn inward on her own thoughts and feelings.

It’s good to talk about our problems with someone. Master Orgus had said to him once. Only now was he finally applying that lesson.

“Well, to me, he was like the village elders in my tribe.” she began. He could see Hiraya’s features start to soften at the wistful memory. “He welcomed me to Tython and was both like a father and mentor. Despite the fact I joined the Order later than most padawans, he made sure I didn't feel differently. It was through his guidance that I overcame my struggles and to become a rightful Jedi."

As she finished, Hiraya let out a long breath, and he could feel her relief at just sharing her troubles with someone. Corellan simply listened quietly, letting her get it out of her system. He couldn’t help but think of his own mentors, the Jedi Masters who had taught him. Nowan Ko, who had taught him to respect all life. Sagottoh, who had put a training sabre in his hand and reminded him that it did not give life; it brought death, and so it should only be used responsibly in the service of life. Orgus, who had completed his training, recognizing that while he could guide Corellan, but that his choices would be his own.

Where would I be now if not for them?

“He sounds wonderful.” He offered, in reflection.  

Hiraya rewarded him with a flash of a bright smile as her eye glazed over at the wistful memory.

“He is. He really is.” she sighed. Her expression soon fell again. “But now it’s as if he’s died, and rather than becoming one with the Force as he should have, he’s left this dark and twisted shell of himself behind. And I need to stop him. Here, on Corellia. If I can’t find some way to redeem him, to save the person who he was, then I have to kill him.”

She looked away sadly.

“I don’t know if I can bring myself to do that.”

Corellan felt an upswell of sympathy at her plight. He couldn’t imagine being asked to face Orgus Din under such circumstances. Or – Force help him – Sagottoh Panaka or Nowan Ko.    

“That’s a terrible burden to carry.” He offered, feeling helpless as he chewed his lip. “I know there’s nothing that I can say that will make this any better. But for whatever its worth, they wouldn’t have entrusted this task to you if you couldn’t handle the responsibility. That you are the best Jedi for this mission.”  

Hiraya nodded silently in thanks. He hoped she didn’t mind hearing something she probably already knew.

“Do you think I can save him?” she whispered. “Bring him back to the light?”

Corellan chewed on that and perhaps inevitably considered his own predicament with Tol Braga. He’d not known the Jedi Master for long, but in just a few months he’d come to see the Kel Dor as another valued mentor, and one of the most dedicated Jedi Masters he’d ever met. But Corellan knew what the Emperor had twisted him into. And now, Braga was attempting to bring about the annihilation of Corellia, granting the Emperor enough power for his ritual to end the Galaxy. It was as evil and destructive a goal as Corellan could imagine.    

Tol Braga had to be stopped. No matter what the cost.

So, he now suspected, did Hiraya’s fallen mentor.

“I don’t know.” Corellan finally found his resolve. “But it’s good to have hope. Nothing else is possible without it.”

He pressed on, even knowing what a toll this campaign had been for her and what lay ahead.

“And… I think that when the time comes, you’ll do everything that could be done. That whatever happens, you’ll do the best you can and that’s the most anyone could ask for. You’ve accomplished great things for the galaxy, and you know your former mentor better than anyone else they could have sent. If you can’t help him, then no one else could have.”

“You have more worth and value to the order and the galaxy besides being a fighter or a military commander. You’re a diplomat, a healer, a scholar and already a teacher to others. Jedi like you are the future of our order.”

He gave Hiraya the most reassuring look he could muster.

“Your mentor clearly saw that in you, and whatever has happened since then, they’ve obviously helped cultivate those qualities. And that person will always be a part of you. Your actions and your choices are your own, but the person your mentor was lives on in everything you do. Whatever the future holds, you are his legacy. Your deeds and achievements honor him.”

Hiraya closed her eyes.

“I understand.” Her voice was fatigued, but a grim acceptance had taken hold.

“Good.” Corellan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. He felt acutely out of his depth, advising a Jedi Master on a personal crisis. “Well, that’s the most philosophical I’ve gotten for a while.”

“Wait.” Her eyes opened with a flash, full of concern. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he raised an eyebrow, not understanding the question.

“You’ve become the order’s champion. Our hero. But don’t you have value beyond being a warrior or a soldier?” Hiraya asked.

“Oh.” he was taken aback by that. His own future wasn’t a subject he normally considered.

It was Corellan’s turn to look down at the duracrete floor of the base. He considered the strange twists and turns his life had taken, from his time growing up as a youngling on Uphrades all the way up to the present. He thought of the things he’d seen, the places he’d travelled to and the people he’d met. He thought of Sagottoh and Nowan, and the various masters and mentors who had followed them. He thought of Orgus Din and his life-changing experiences on Tython. He thought of his crew and all their missions together leading up to now.

A strange life for a Jedi. He observed. Not at all what he’d expected.

“I think I was always meant to serve the order in a… martial capacity, I suppose.” He finally said. “If we weren’t at war, I’d probably be serving in some minor role, standing guard at the Temple of Tython, perhaps.” He recalled something Master Sagottoh had told him once. “Jedi weren’t intended to be soldiers or warriors. We were meant to be peacekeepers, counselors, and scholars and diplomats like you, for example.”

Just while speaking, he’d found his answer to her question, and how he saw himself within the Jedi.

“I fight for a galaxy where I’m redundant.” Corellan expanded. “Where Jedi like you are the norm, and ones like me are the exception. I expect if we ever defeated the Sith for good… when we defeat the Sith for good… I’ll just quietly withdraw from the wider galaxy and retire from the order. It would probably be better for everyone.”

He chuckled. The war had marked him, and it would continue to do so. He didn’t know what he’d be by the time it was over.

“Weapons should not be left out unattended.”  

Hiraya reached out, placing her hand on his. He was surprised by the simple gesture, drawing comfort from it.

“You have more to offer the Jedi and the galaxy than your prowess with a lightsaber, Corellan Halcyon.” She smiled warmly. “You are more than a weapon. Far more.”

Corellan found himself grinning boyishly, touched at the kindness in her words. He found himself feeling like a padawan again. He wasn’t sure her words, but he did appreciate that someone would say that of him.

“Thank you, Hiraya. That’s… very kind of you to say.”

She nodded in acknowledgement and sighed.

“Why did it have to be us?”

Corellan could tell that the question was intended to be rhetorical, but still felt it deserved an answer regardless. Indeed, he’d been asking himself that same question not long ago. The conclusion he’d come to was not easy to hear, but she deserved the truth.

He reached back and touched her hand as she had his, gently but firmly.

“Maybe because we’re the only ones who can.”

Hiraya’s eyes widened in surprise, and she looked past him for a moment. There was regret in her eyes, but he could feel her steely resolve as well.

“Perhaps we are.” She finally replied. Though her words were passive, he could feel the strength and resolve behind them. This was the Jedi Master who had saved so many lives and forged an alliance of disparate factions. Thus was the Jedi Master who had accomplished so much and who represented what the Jedi should strive to be.

As the two started to turn for the exit, he stopped her.  

“Hey - when this is over? When you finally get a chance to catch your breath?” he gave her a hopeful look. “Take some time for yourself. Do whatever it is that brings you peace. You deserve it.”  

Hiraya blinked as her cheeks blushed prettily, the corners of her lips turning upward into an unexpected grin as she looked past him again. Corellan couldn’t say what thought had drawn that reaction from her, but he suspected that his words had led the Jedi Master to consider something very specific. He found his own thoughts turning to Kira and everything she meant to him. He drew comfort in the sensation, and strength for the battle to come.

“Thank you.” She finally said. “For that and everything. I hope in time you can follow the same advice.”

Corellan didn’t miss her meaning, simply nodding firmly in thanks. He hoped the same, though he did not trust himself to say as much.

“Don’t mention it.” Now girded, the soldier – the Jedi hero and the reluctant military commander – mentally snapped back into place. Rusk would no doubt approve. So would have Orgus Din.  

“You ready?”

“I am.” She answered, her lips turning upwards until her expression matched his.

And with that, the two Jedi departed the base. Corellia – and their destinies – awaited them.

Author’s Notes: A little cliched, I know. But I wanted to write something soft.

@chaosandwonder​ is an amazing person, by the way. I am so grateful that she is part of this community. In Corellan’s story, Ulannium Kaarz is the Barsen'thor of the Jedi Order, and his tale follows that of the Jedi Counselor. Hence, I intentionally leave Syo Bakarn’s name out of it, so as not to compromise @chaosandwonder​ ‘s own story. Nevertheless, Hiraya seems a delightful character.

(In case it wasn’t obvious, when Hiraya grins near the end she is supposed to be thinking about Felix.)

Corellan’s point of view of himself and the galaxy would change by the end of Knights of the Eternal Throne. But I wanted to discuss his perspectives at this particular point. He is humble, but more than that, he doesn’t consider himself exceptional, except as a warrior.

The Jedi Knight on Corellia storyline can be a little frustrating. Satele claims to be putting you in charge of all Jedi forces on-planet, but this is clearly an exaggeration, as you find Jedi all over the planet who aren’t under your command, not counting the ones from the Consular story. So I’m simply calling Corellan’s group the ‘main Jedi taskforce’ here.

Quick notes

- I’ve always liked the character of Rusk, underdeveloped though he is. I’d like to explore Corellan’s relationship with him further in the future.

- Corellan doesn’t know Jun Seros was a corrupt fanatic at this point. More on that later.

- I have more planned involving Sagottoh and Nowan.

Thank you for reading.

(Tagging people who expressed interest - @lordviridis , @a-muirehen , @darthsinister66 , @tishinada , @walk-ng-d-saster , @agricorpsaurek , @chaoticspacelesbians , @reena-kk , @the-raven-of-highever and @swtor-writers-guild​ )

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - H'nemthe

The planet H'nemthe had few viable exports save for minerals, and though H'nemthe were known to take jobs in the music industry, they rarely left their home planet. They had few visitors and imported little, occasionally trading for technology or ships. When the Galactic Empire took control of H'nemthe, many left to join the Rebel Alliance on Anoat. Following the Yuuzhan Vong War, the Galactic Alliance made overtures to the H'nemthe leaders in hopes of becoming trading partners with the species. At some point during the New Republic's rule, the Shi'ido anthropologist Mammon Hoole included an entry on the H'nemthe in his publication The Essential Guide to Alien Species.

The highly structured H'nemthe society was shaped by the natural ratio of the H'nemthe sexes: only one female was born for every twenty males. Despite this imbalance, their culture was based primarily on the search for true love and the creation of new life, which they considered to be the ultimate in spiritual fulfillment.

When a female H'nemthe consummated her relationship with a male, she eviscerated him with her knife-shaped tongue, considering it a proof of love. As a result, male and female H'nemthe mated very rarely, and then only in the case of true love. Since virgin females were rare, they lived a sheltered existence, and were seldom allowed to leave their homeworld. Strict traditions also restricted virgin females to a vegetarian diet, ensuring that their first lover's flesh was the first meat they tasted. The males of the species were timid and spent a considerable amount of their adult lives looking for true love.

Many outsiders considered the deadly H'nemthe mating rituals to be a bizarre contradiction in an otherwise peaceful society. H'nemthe philosophers disagreed, however, pointing out that life coming from death was the way of the universe. In their beliefs, death was merely a change in form that paved the way for future generations. H'nemthe believed that a male killed after mating would receive the ultimate spiritual reward by going on to the netherworld to act as a spiritual guardian for his offspring, and males were thus unafraid of the certain death that would come their way if they found this love.

H'nemthe prized music, and their music in turn was considered pleasant by non-H'nemthe. They also valued calligraphy, and H'nemthe who had either of these skills were given great accord in their culture. Poetry was also very important to the H'nemthe, and it was traditional for lovers to write each other poems. Females especially were expected to be talented in the arts. H'nemthe also enjoyed sciences and history, and studied them to learn more and prepare themselves for potential leadership opportunities. However, the H'nemthe spoken language was considered unpleasant to outsiders, as it was squeaky.

The H'nemthe had a direct democracy on their planet, generally ruled by a female, as the males often had short lifespans due to the H'nemthe mating ritual. A Senate on H'nemthe consisted of delegates selected by local governments.

H'nemthe were humanoid reptilians. They had three fingers on their hands, and their skin varied between blue-gray and pink. They had long noses, green eyes, and ridged, bony faces. H'nemthe were omnivores.

H'nemthe had four small horns, actually sensory cones, on their heads. These cones were used much like the way Gotals used their cones—to sense electromagnetic fields and weather patterns. Their homeworld H'nemthe had very unusual and irregular weather patterns due to its three moons. These cones had thus evolved as an adaptation to the extreme weather patterns and variable lighting conditions on H'nemthe, helping them cope with the changing conditions. These cones were also able to sense heat differences in their environment as well as the emotional state of other beings, making them skilled hunters like the Gotals. However, the Gotals were not related to the H'nemthe.

The average H'nemthe stood 1.7 meters or 5.6 feet tall, the typical height of a Human.

H'nemthe age at the following stages:

1 - 6 Child

7 - 10 Young Adult

11 - 44 Adult

45 - 59 Middle Age

60 - 84 Old

Examples of Names: Garriel, H'rassh, Liakkor, S'basso, Vir'roc, Vishki.

Languages: H'nemthe speak a language comprised primarily of squeaks, squeals, and other noises that other sentients find irritating. The written form of H'nemthe uses a wispy, contiguous line to make letters that string together to form words.

[capricornus-rex]

Someone Left to Save (11)

Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: The Mantis crew arrives to the capital of Ulfin, in the planet of Pevera, under siege. They meet the local rebel cell spearheaded by the former Republic admiral, Jax Beneb, who seeks to destroy the Empire’s occupation that was aggressively imposed upon while exploiting the planet of its natural resources. A plan is devised to destroy the Imperial’s main base of operations—as well as their influence—in the planet; however, it was a do-or-die mission that you and Cal had gotten yourselves caught in.

A/N: @glxy-otter​ Well, here’s a chapter where they meet but... I don’t think it’s not the way you expected it to be ;;;A;;;

Tags: Force-Sensitive! Reader, Inquisitor! Reader, Jedi! Reader, Fake Death, Jedi turned Inquisitor, Seduction to the Dark Side, Turn to the Dark Side, The Dark Side of the Force, Aftermath of Torture, Torture, Psychological Torture, Redemption Arc! Reader, Possible Redemption, Premonitions

Also in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 | Previous: Part 10 | Next: Part 12 | Masterlist

11 of ?

The TIE Fighter sits on the western ridge.

The transmitter is set to its maximum range of reception, in case you pick up something interesting; at the edge of the ridge, the lone city intrigued you a lot and you have the strongest feeling that Cal may or may not have been there a time or two.

Putting your new helmet to the test, your fingers search for a particular button. When you found it, the visor’s scanners zoomed in and a reticle bounces back and forth within the narrow frame, leaving a piece of information whether in writing or in images before ricocheting to the next corner.

So far, you’ve seen most of what you saw in your vision—the barren wasteland, the lone city. However, the statues you saw were nowhere in sight… yet. You hummed while reviewing the data flashed on the surface of your visor. To the ordinary eye, it may be just another stretch of mountains, but you heeded to your feelings. Your eagle eye caught something else.

“Hell-o,” you cooed in a curious, singsong tone. One press of the button and the jittery reticle visits your visor again. “What do we have here?”

At the end of the mountain range, a pair of boulders peek out of the rim, though these particular boulders seem to be a little too symmetrical and clearly round for it to be any ordinary rocks. Squinting your eyes, you had a feeling something was up, and decided to explore it.

Not even the Inquisitorius killed off your curiosity.

“Okay, let’s tick statues off the checklist,” you mused to yourself.

Your eyes wandered, searching for an optimum landing spot. When you pictured that one exact spot in front of the statues--or their feet at least—you took five paces back to give yourself momentum. One big breath to calm down the nerves in your shivering legs, you clench your fists hard until the skin over your knuckles have turned white. The balls of your feet propelled you, kicking up the dust as you bolted through, and just at the very split second—when your toes barely sat on the edge of the cliff—you sprang away from the rock and plummeted down.

The two hundred feet felt only like two the moment you landed. Light as a feather, the sand wafted just at the height of your ankles. You erected from your crouched position and faced the entrance—nothing much than a portal of darkness that leads to who-knows-what. The mouth of the cave was seething with so much of the Force that it’s overwhelming, not just for you, but perhaps for any Force-sensitive.

“It’s a temple…” you gasped.

You held your head high up to take a good long look of the statues, the unmoving and unwavering guards, perhaps a millennia old.

Taking the first steps into this grand structure, a wave of calm washed over you—it didn’t give you peace though, it only made you feel more suspicious and a bit spooked about this place. Little did you know that it was the Light Side if this temple—long dormant and untouched until you came along—and the Dark Side in your clashing against one another. You begin to explore the temple; finding yourself in what ought to be a lobby or foyer of sorts, you stopped in your tracks at the very center of it and attempt to concentrate.

You feel like you’re not alone in here…

Because Cal is in here too.

—

“Bee…?”

“I don’t know, BD, it’s a strange feeling—familiar but eerie,” Cal thought aloud. Surveying the high ceilings of the temple, adorned with a strip of ancient runes much like most Jedi temples. “I don’t think we’re alone here.”

“Triiiil!”

Cal chuckled, “Haha! No, not ghosts, little guy. Another person, maybe, or an animal. But not ghosts, they don’t exist.”

The boy’s smile melted, his anxiety and uneasiness returned. The farther he goes in, the more he uncovers. Limestone parapets meld together with the stone of the caves—it reminded him of the inner chambers of the Zeffo tomb—and the rustic chimes of all shapes and sizes dangle at the slightest draft.

“Sure is spooky in here, though,”

BD-1 cooed a soft, almost-quiet chirp in agreement, folding his legs in as he hides behind Cal’s shoulder. Not even his own flashlight could torch the way ahead. The boy and the boy have comes to what ought to be an open antechamber, the features reminded Cal of the gardens in the temple in Coruscant—except this one is smaller, possibly twice the size of the entrance at the Vault in Bogano.

The extravagance astonished the boy, BD-1 showed the same sentiments in the way he knows best—hop down from Cal’s shoulder, scamper left and right, forward and back to scan every imaginable thing present in the room.

“Don’t wander too far, BD!” called the young Jedi.

Cal follows BD’s general direction, all while gawking at the design of this hollow, ancient chamber. Despite his great fascination at the beauty of the ruins, the looming uneasiness that he’s been feeling all day finally took hold of him.

And it took form in the shape of you.

At the insidious roar of a saber’s ignition, a bloody red glow illuminated the shadows and highlighted your silhouette. The shadowy sight frightened the poor, tiny droid, leading him to skitter back to Cal for safety. You step into the light, out into the antechamber, holding your saber low—the tip hovering beside your ankle—a menacing stride carried you forward to your now-enemy.

“Figured I’d find you here,”

The distortion in your voice, thanks to the helmet, made for an excellent guise. The storm inside Cal’s heart aroused you. You smiled beneath the mask, satisfied. It’s hard to deny that you truly missed him, but seeing his face reminded you of the things that your brother and sisters fed you—lies born from poisonous clairvoyance, until those said lies became the truth in your mind, and it is what you have accepted as reality.

The faint, fluttering feeling that used to exist in your stomach—all from missing him so—was replaced with an aching rage in your heart; because in your eyes, all you could see of him is the corrupted truth. Your grip around your saber tightened so hard that the metal sleeve was almost crumpled.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,”

You chuckled sinisterly, though amused, it seems that his roguishness didn’t die off from his depression of grieving for you.

“Oh?” you bobbed your head. “Then why don’t you get to know me?”

You brandished your saber horizontally, at the press of a well-hidden button, the half of the halo became a whole and along with it a second blade emitting out of the other end. Cal ignited his own, his own response to taking on the challenge. You softly chuckled and made the first move—lunging towards him like a dart, saber over your head. Landing on his block felt off and different—it was sloppy, loose, and less lively. You sensed the weakness of his body reflecting on the strength of his deflect.

At this point, you’re still quite generous. You voluntarily pulled away to let him reset his stance—also for you to quickly scrutinize his disposition. Your eyes examined his entire person: flimsy grip, poor footwork, and a weak core. You squint with suspicion.

Hmm, something’s up with him.

Cal remains at the mercy of the new Inquisitor: as lethal as a dagger, fast as lightning, and quick-witted. Her speed was almost impossible to keep up with.

He blocks and deflects your every strike, but barely affords a moment to counterattack. For every landed block, you felt how feeble his handling was, almost as if he’s crippled in the arm. You exploited that weakness and sent out a hail of slashes in his way, when Cal finally manages to lunge forward, you denied him an opportunity—darting to the far side of the space and attacking him from behind, similar to what you did to the Inquisitors weeks ago in your initiation duel.

The boy blocks it in the last minutes and then dodge-rolls to the side. He tries to stiffen himself up, but you sense that this is a façade he’s trying so hard to maintain. You can practically see right through his bluff.

“Seems like you’ve lost your touch, Jedi,”

“That’s perceptive of you,”

“Thank you,” you squeaked. “I get that a lot!”

Again, you thrusted yourself towards the boy. He’s slowly catching on in terms of strength. Looks like his focus has gotten back to him. After an intense exchange of blades, you flipped away from the clash and literally swept him off his feet with a single kick. His body met the floor, but quickly scrambled back on his feet; making him feel like he had no chance of the upper hand infuriated him, and this reflected in the way he moves with the saber. His technique was easily countered with a dash of elusive acrobatics mixed in with your own fighting style. You can sense the growing anger and the hate in him, though it’s no surprise that he’d succumb to it.

“You mistake your rage with sadness!” you snarled and then continued. “That anger, hate, and suffering. You don’t use them at all. Pity.” You scoffed as your blades are locked together.

A kick to the abdomen staggered him away from you, another brief moment to recompose himself. You spun your saber, the swordpoint facing Cal a few inches away.

“You know, you were never really good in hiding your feelings.”

And at the moment, Cal’s heart skipped a beat. Surely, this was a taunt most Inquisitors do to Jedi to catch them off guard, right? But no, there’s something else lingering in that Inquisitor’s words. Cal could barely breathe when he was beginning to become familiar with his opponent’s voice and the answer was whispering itself in his ears—though he refused. He tightened his grip around the sleeve.

The uncertainty from the boy reached you, another emotion to exploit within your grasp. It was almost a guilty pleasure taunting him; the climax being his melting point. You decided to while away the time bantering instead of fighting, which proved to be more entertaining—at least, for you.

“Don’t talk like you know me!”

“Oh, I’d bet my entire fleet for that,” you sniggered.

“Who are you, really?”

There was a pause. You tilted your head pensively.

“Oh, they call me the Twelfth Sister, but…” with a push of a button on your helmet, the front plate that masks your face retracts into its frame. You greet him with a malicious grin. “I guess you can call me [Y/N].”

Cal felt his strength ebbing, whatever life essence residing in his body has now departed, the saber fell from his hand—the clattering filled the entire antechamber until the only noise filling the place was his rapid, shallow breathing. He could feel his heart about to fail and he’ll just drop dead.

“No…!” he gasped.

You were ironically thankful to see the look on his face with your own eyes, without the visor. O, that multi-million credit expression was simply divine! So divine, in fact, that your grin stretched wider than an Acklay’s jaws.

“No, no…” he panted, until the whining evolved into a bellow. “NO, NO!!! It can’t be true! You’re not real! I’m just in a-a-a… dream! Or a trance! Or something!”

You scoffed, “Is it so hard to believe, Cal?”

“It can’t be… [Y/N]…”

“You abandoned me, Cal, and in turn, they found me. Made me stronger… much stronger. Enough to make you atone!”

“But I didn’t abandon you! I was about to come and get you!”

“LIAR! Because if you were, you would’ve taken me out of the rubble soon.”

“But I looked for you… I looked everywhere for you. I even waited when they were telling me to leave.”

You shake your head solemnly, “That’s not the way I see it.”

“Who told you all these things?”

“Does it matter?!” you raise your voice and readied your sword arm. “I’m going to make you pay anyway!”

Your frenzy overwhelmed Cal, indeed, but he was able to regain his bearings in the split second you darted through the wind in his direction. Another exchange of blades, only this time, oozing with a wildness borne of rage and hate—regardless if the root was corrupted and false. It is what the Grand Inquisitor would have designed in the first place. It’s what he would’ve wanted.

“[Y/N]…!” Cal pleaded in the middle of attacking. “[Y/N], please, listen to me!”

“I’m done listening to anyone!! All I could ever hear are lies!”

Cal made a quick scan of the area and spotted two balconies connected by a bridge overhead. He withdrew from the fight, hopped from one parapet to another until his feet were planted on the limestone. Of course, you didn’t want to be outclassed by the Jedi—you practically wall-ran until you’re at the highest of highs, propelled yourself off your feet, somersaulting in the air and landed in a graceful cat-like crouch.

“[Y/N], look, I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Sweet of you, honey, but you’re gonna have to come with me!”

It has become a battle of balance, dexterity, and strength. The bridge was just as wide as the walkway of a Star Destroyer’s hyperdrive pillar. The flurry of saber attacks remained frenzied and intense, the red gleam of your saber highlighted Cal’s freckled yet sullen face as you bore your weight down on his blocking, shining over the gloss of his teeth, and mingling with his jade irises encircled by dark rings. Ignorant of the imperfections brought upon by grief, you looked past them and still see the Cal you clearly remember in your memories.

“Oh, how I missed that handsome face,” you cooed.

That took him off guard, but only for a short while, he pressed him in closer to you which gave him enough momentum to pull away and take you by surprise—pushing you to the farther end of the bridge with the Force, causing you to stumble and land on your back and into this smaller chamber.

“I said, I don’t want to hurt you!”

When he saw that you were inside the smaller chamber on the other end, he focused the Force on the middle of the bridge—practically breaking off a large piece of the walkway like some crumb of bread—and sent it flying to the open archway of the chamber! That wasn’t enough though, he looked for every conceivable object within his reach to block your way, though he knew that you can easily break through it, doing so would buy him enough time to escape.

The next thing he used to block of the archway was the spherical chandelier, large enough to fortify the chunk of the bridge he initially put there. He could feel the resistance from the other side, you were doing the same thing he’s doing except to push your way out; but he persisted and focused harder on the blockage. Finally, that large “crumb” of the bridge was lodged harder into the archway, locking it in place before the chandelier.

Cal felt sure that he’s closed you in, but he’s perfectly aware that you won’t stay there for long.

“Come on, BD!”

“Woooo!!”

He ran, although in no particular direction, he simply ran away.

Air filled his lungs for every step he took. He just couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed.

He’ll have a difficult time accepting this new reality. As a matter of fact, he will never accept this reality.

[onwardintolight]

Read it on FFN here

~~~

Leia woke up late to the sound of wailing.

Ben’s wailing, coming from the living quarters.

Karabast, she muttered under her breath. What time was it?

She checked her chrono. 1230.

Ugh. Again?

Blinking back the sleep that threatened to pull her under once more, she groaned as she sat up.

Ben’s cries came more fiercely now, mixed with a few choice babbled syllables he’d been trying on for size lately. The cold, empty spot beside her in bed told her Han was out there with him. That was a relief. Their son had an escape artist streak; at least this time he wasn’t crawling around the house all on his own, looking to see how much trouble he could get into. Still, her heart sank. They were all about equal parenting, but it seemed like Han had been shouldering the greater burden as of late.

She fixed her eyes on the light streaming through the window, trying to get them to adjust. It didn’t really help. Her head still hurt; the room was still blurry. She forced herself to get up anyway.

Han looked at her apologetically when she finally lurched into the living quarters. “I was tryin’ to let you sleep,” he said. “I guess this little ruffian had other ideas. ‘M sorry, sweetheart.” Inexplicably, Ben had already stopped crying; he was now contentedly perched on Han’s hip, tugging at his hair.

“I’m sorry, Han, I should have been up hours ago; I should never have made you take care of Ben this long—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, acting affronted. “Made me? I chose to spend time with this little guy.” He ruffled Ben’s hair. “Besides, you needed to get some rest.”

She didn’t argue; she was too tired, and it would be a losing battle, anyway. He knew she’d been staying up half the night lately, unable to sleep. For no good reason, she thought angrily. It wasn’t so much that she couldn’t get any sleep when she lay down; it was that somehow, dragging herself into bed seemed like a near impossible task. She’d distract herself with pointless research or dumb holonet shows, watching the hours tick by, too weary to go through her bedtime rituals, too anxious to let her mind rest. Too afraid to face the possibility of another nightmare.

“Rest is overrated,” she grumbled. “I need some caf.”

She headed for the kitchen, but Han stepped in her way. “I’ve got it, sweetheart. You go sit down.”

She tried to step around him, but he blocked her again. Her ire spiked. “Han, stop it.”

“Go sit down.”


“Why? How incapable do you think I am? Last I checked, I don’t have the virus.”

“Leia—”

“Just let me do it.”

He raised his free arm placatingly. “Okay. Sure.” He stepped aside, frowning. She had probably pissed him off, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She stepped into the kitchen and fumbled around in the cabinets for the ground caf. There wasn’t much left in the container, she noted with alarm. She should have ordered some more days ago. The way everything was in the galaxy right now, it would take forever to arrive. Somehow, the prospect of less caf over the coming days made her feel breathless, almost dizzy. She leaned against the counter, trying to get ahold of herself.

She was almost always on edge these days. Funny how the end of her time as a soldier didn’t signal the end of that. Truth be told, she didn’t know how to stop being that way.

It had gotten better, for a time—it had taken awhile for things to settle down before she had Ben, and in the meantime her Jedi training had helped her learn new techniques to calm herself (even if it simultaneously stirred up some deeper fears). Then there was that honeymoon phase of life with their new little family, that shaky and awkward but ultimately hopeful step she and Han had taken together into new territory. It had been a deeply happy experience overall, even if hard at times. Being together was a gift, thanks to a galaxy newly at peace, and she had treasured this weird, messy, beautiful, strangely domestic era in their life. She would miss it, when it was gone.

But all the same, she yearned to get back to work. She felt in her bones that she still had more to give to the galaxy, if only she had the opportunity. Han was itching to get back in the cockpit, too. It was past time to forge a new normal with her family, where they could all be who they fully were as they found new ways to grow and love together.

Apparently the galaxy had different plans.

During her parental leave, she’d taken time off because she chose to, and she’d been okay with that. She’d never expected this pandemic to come in later and take so many choices away. When people started getting sick on Corellia, no one had guessed how quickly it would spread, stopping the whole galaxy in its tracks. They’d been quarantining now for almost a month, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand it. She even found herself missing the polite, insistent prattling of her protocol droid, T-2LC, who lately more often than not sat powered down in their home office with nothing to do.

Unfortunately, even if it weren’t for the pandemic, she had still been semi-exiled from the Republic government. Oh, it wasn’t as though it were official or anything—people still treated her with utmost respect, and she still counted several of those in leadership, Mon Mothma and Ackbar in particular, as dear friends. But the truth of the matter was that she had been gradually, quietly sidelined, ever since Kashyyyk. She did not regret in the slightest her actions at the time, but her angry outbursts and rogue behavior were not forgotten. The new government had truly taken off after the Battle of Jakku, right around the time Ben was born, and she had missed out on much of that formative time. After her parental leave was over, she had simply not been invited back.

That hurt.

Despite all that, she’d done her best to liason with the Alderaanian remnant, to take care of their needs and ensure they had adequate representation on Chandrila. In fact, she still had work to do on that, even if the virus had put much on hold.

But lately, she’d been doing nothing. She’d just been sitting around at home: restless, fatigued, and oddly enough, terrified.

The daylight outside the kitchen window disappeared into clouds, dimming everything around her.

It was strange. She’d been through countless battles; she’d seen so many horrors. And yet here she was, with a different kind of fear, one that seemed to have gripped her in ways deeper than she could have imagined. Not fear of the pandemic, per se, though of course she was worried about her family, about everyone she cared about, about the entire galaxy.

No, even more than that, Leia was terrified of who she was, of what she’d become. She hardly recognized the woman in the mirror anymore. The woman who was no longer consumed by the fight for galactic justice. The woman who had nowhere to channel her grief anymore, and no giant, all-important cause to distract her. She was alone with herself, now, and the longer this went on, the more she hated herself.

Swallowing, she forced herself to move. She dipped a measuring spoon into the ground caf, brought it to the caf maker. Her hand was unsteady, though; some spilled out on the counter. She muttered a curse under her breath and stabbed at the controls to get the thing running. It would do.

This pandemic had stirred something deep inside her. Instinct had kicked in—she needed to be back on the front lines, leading, making a difference. She needed to fight. But she couldn’t fight, not this time. Not when the enemy was a virus instead of an evil Empire. She felt desperate to do something besides sitting locked away at home. She’d always done something. But there was nothing for her to do now, no role they wanted her to fill. None of her skills that might be useful were needed. The true soldiers, this time, were the medics, the farmers and food suppliers, the workers providing what everyone needed.

She couldn’t fight. But she couldn’t seem to make herself back away from it, either. She was stuck.

The air felt heavy, thick. The smell of caf filled the room. She stared half-seeing as it slowly dripped into the carafe.

Why?

Why couldn’t she back down? Why couldn’t she just be content with isolating with her family? That was what was needed of her, after all. That was the way she was making a difference.

The problem was, it didn’t feel like enough.

It was never enough.

As long as she was fighting, she could at least say she was working to make Alderaan’s sacrifice count. Working to atone for her part in all that.

No, she challenged herself. That’s not how this works; you know better, now.

She sighed and turned away, shaking her head. She didn’t blame herself as much as she used to. At least, not on the surface. She’d come a long way since those first few years, in no small part thanks to Han. But still, shame had settled inside her core and refused to budge, no matter what she told it; it was shaped like a pointed finger forever turned inward, whispering of “should haves” and “should nows,” never letting her rest.

Those whispers had only gotten stronger lately, as the paralysis set in. The feeling of being trapped between fight or flight had settled on her as a heavy weight. She was depressed, she’d come to realize with a shock. It was hardly the first time, but she didn’t ever remember it being so destructive to her functionality, not even at her lowest of lows. In addition, her anxiety was hitting insane levels. Wartime levels; maybe even higher. Little things made her jump, took her right back—a sound that reminded her of blaster fire. The smell of something burning. The unexpected chime of the door. Ben’s cries.

For kriff’s sake, a slight note of anger in Han’s voice was nearly enough to make her panic and react to him in ways she hadn’t in years. Any hint of disappointment or even simple requests could send her into a meltdown, as she tried to prove to him (and even more so, to herself) that she really was capable, that she wasn’t as much to blame for everything as some inner part of her clearly still thought.

The clouds outside drew closer, and she felt, more than heard, a faint, distant rumble. For a moment, she remembered lightning on Appenza Peak, her old bedroom windows thrown open to see it. She pushed the image away.

To Han’s credit, he seemed to have caught on that something was amiss with her, moreso than normal. He’d been taking on even more responsibility with Ben lately, not snapping back (well, at least not usually), and treating her with vastly more grace than she felt like she deserved. His attempt to let her sleep in this morning warmed her heart, but at the same time, it speared her through with guilt like a blaster bolt. She should be better than this.

Where was the Leia that sucked it up and helped saved the galaxy? Where was the Leia who had commanded troops and put her life on the line again and again? Yes, that Leia had suffered greatly and had been dealing with no small amount of PTSD, but somehow she’d gotten through and fought despite it all. Perhaps that Leia would have stayed up most of the night as she’d done the night before—probably intent on the distraction of supply charts and strategies instead of wandering their flat aimlessly—but that Leia would have also forced herself awake the next morning and worked until she practically made herself sick.

That Leia had definitely not been healthy, but she was functional.

At least that Leia got stuff done.

Now, she was useless. She was just as haunted by everything that had happened, if not more so, but she had nothing to do, nowhere to run.

Nowhere to run. Trapped.

Her neck was hurting again, and her arm—the places the torture droids had once injected her. The muscles in her shoulders and back felt tense, hard as a rock. She had a headache. The room spun a little. In fact, the room seemed not quite there. Was she really here?

“Leia?” Han appeared in the doorway, Ben still on his hip.

“I… I think I need to go sit down,” she mumbled.

He nodded, brows knit. “I’ll bring you a cup of caf when it’s done.”

She stumbled over to the couch, feeling vaguely relieved as it embraced her. Idly, she watched as the sky outside grew darker, more ominous. Force, she hoped it would storm. She could hardly take the thick stillness.

Minutes passed. She heard the sound of the caf maker finishing its work, Han rummaging in the cabinet, liquid being poured into a mug. He brought it out to her, and she took it, set it on the table beside her to cool. She sat back, hands over her eyes against the pressure, and managed a nod. “Thanks, darling,” she murmured.

He was being so sweet, so caring, and she was so, so grateful for him.

She also hated it. She hated that she had put him in a position where he felt like he had to do everything for her and Ben. Where he had to take care of her as if she were another child. He was suffering, too; aching to get back out among the stars, haunted by the reports of the sick and dying in the slums of his old homeworld. She should have been able to deal with all this herself.

But… she couldn’t. Not right now. Everything hurt. She could barely even catch a good breath, for kriff’s sake. She tried breathing in and out, slowly and deeply. Did it help? Perhaps a little, but it was hard to tell. All she wanted to do was curl up in a fetal position and just… not be there. Not be her, this new, useless Leia. She started to curl in on herself, but then she remembered curling up in a ball on the floor of the Death Star cell, and she stopped.

No.

She could almost feel the gaze of the cell guards, hear the breath of Vader. Instead, she leaned forward and focused on her breathing again—how was it possible that it was even shallower than before?

“Sweetheart? You okay?” Han’s voice came through the static in her head.

She started to nod, hands still over her eyes, then stopped. After a moment, she shook her head no instead. She felt deeply ashamed, but that was the truth of the matter—she wasn’t okay. Not at all.

Vaguely, she heard Ben babbling on the floor, the sound of him handling and biting some things that were most likely toys. Han must have distracted him for the moment. She decided she didn’t have the energy to care all that much what Han had given him to play with; she’d trust his judgment for now.

“Turn around,” Han said, sitting beside her. She felt his hands start to rub at her neck, her shoulders. She let out a shaky breath. It felt so good.

His touch was also real, here, now—unlike Vader, the guards, the cell, or that room of horrors in Cloud City. She remembered the exercises Luke had taught her, and she tuned into the sensations, focusing on them, letting everything else fall away. Emptying herself of all but this moment, his hands, her muscles… she was a cup to be filled up.

Her breath finally slowed, deepened, and tears filled her eyes. Gratitude, relief, frustration, grief… it all threatened to spill out. Her breath hitched again.

“Breathe, Leia. It’s okay.”

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Han, I don’t know why I’m like this, I don’t know who I am anymore….” She turned and lay her head on his shoulder, and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her.

“Sweetheart,” he said finally, “you’ve been through a hell of a lot of trauma. My guess? Now that you’re forced to relax, now that you can’t fight, it’s all tryin’ to come out, shoutin’ at you to deal with it. That’s probably a good thing, you know, because it means you’re safe now. You’ve gotta take some time to heal.”

Reluctantly, she nodded. She recognized the truth in his words. He’d clearly learned a lot in his own therapy sessions post-carbonite, as much as he’d complained about them. Maybe it was time to look into that for herself again, too. She could hardly be any more of a mess.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve been a terrible person to be around, lately, and I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I can’t just manage—“

“Sshhh,” he said. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know. We’re in this together, okay? Let me help you. Let me help you rest.”

“I can’t, there’s so much I should—”

“I’m serious. You need to rest.” Han sighed. “You’re already a hero, Leia. You’ve helped save the whole goddamn galaxy. It’s okay to rest now. You need it.”

Leia stared at the wall. Then, finally, in a small voice, she said, “I’m afraid if I let myself rest, I’ll never be able to rise up and do what I need to do again.” A few moments passed; when she continued, her voice was edged with panic. “What if this is actually the real me? What if I never fully deal with it? What if I just… waste away, and become someone people pity?” She blinked back tears again. “I can’t stand the thought of people’s pity. Like, ‘Oh, she fought in the war, she was a great leader, it’s a shame what she’s let herself become—’”

“Leia, stop it. First of all, no way is anyone gonna pity you like that. Again, you’re a hero. You will always be a hero. People know who you really are—” he held up a hand to stop her from interrupting—“and that person is the person I still see before me right now. Someone’s who’s incredibly strong. Someone who will always fight for what’s right. Someone who, right now, is fighting a battle inside that’s, oh I dunno, at least as big as any she’s ever fought on the outside. It’s just that now, fighting looks like rest, like sleeping in late, like letting your husband help you. Like cuddling and feeding and loving on a baby. Like muddling through the day however you can while processing all the hell you’ve been through.”

The tears were falling, now. Leia shut her eyes, burying her head into Han’s chest. She tried to let his words sink in.

“We’re a team, Leia,” Han said, his voice filled with conviction. “Things are hard right now, but we’ll get through this together. You don’t have to have it all figured out on your own.”

She exhaled, nodding silently. She’d probably need to be reminded again before long, but for now, his words were enough to fade some of the shame.

A flash came, then a low rumble. Shakily, she stood up and walked over to the window, watching as the first few drops of rain pattered against it. Han followed, coming up to put his arm around her as they looked out on the storm together. She leaned against him.

It calmed her, somehow, seeing the tumult outside. It always had. She could almost smell the rain, feel the rush of the wind. She half wanted to rush out on their bedroom balcony and let it all drench her. Unfortunately, she was all too aware that their flat was near the top of one of Hanna City’s few towers.

Maybe she would later, once the lightning had passed. She would go out with Han, Ben in her arms, and teach her son how to laugh in the rain.

Her breaths were starting to come more fully now.

“Mama,” a little voice said, and she felt a tug at her pant leg. Ben had crawled over and was holding his arms up to her. She reached down and picked him up, pulled him into her embrace.

“I love you,” she whispered, and her heart felt suddenly full. He wriggled around, untamed as always, twisting in her arms so he could look out the window along with them, mouth open wide in wonder.

“Da,” he said, pointing a chubby little finger at the wild sky.

A bolt of lightning shrieked down from the clouds, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the whole flat. She caressed Ben’s curly head, ready to offer comfort. No need; he seemed to be enjoying the show as much as she was.

Another bolt of lightning struck the outskirts of the city, spectacular in its vivid starkness. For a moment, she felt like a finger of that light was breaking through, piercing the dense, sluggish dark inside her, leaving a far deeper imprint than the silhouette still burning in her eyes.

It was right then that she knew it: this heaviness wouldn’t last forever. Someday, perhaps not as long as she feared, this time of intense processing would be over. She’d get up from her rest, get back to being her more functional self again, and work once more to heal all the wrongs of the galaxy. Perhaps by then, she’d be doing it wholler, wiser. More healed, herself. And maybe, just maybe, the galaxy would be even better for it.

But in the meantime, she would tend to her wounds and embrace the lightning as it came.

In the meantime, she would finally learn how to rest.

~

~

~

Notes:

Thanks for taking the time to read this! I hope it encourages you like it did me, especially in these uncertain times when so many of us are dealing with the trauma of our own pandemic.

I literally wrote this as part of my own therapy for PTSD, so please be kind. If you are considering leaving a comment about how this "proves" Han and Leia were bad parents or that you think Leia would never struggle like this or need time to process her trauma, please refrain and take your false and harmful negativity elsewhere. It's hard enough for anyone struggling with PTSD to take the time to heal as it is. Thank you.

For those of you who are struggling with PTSD and/or other mental health issues, I see you. You are not weak; you are strong. You are fighting an incredibly difficult battle. It's okay if you weren't productive today. It's okay to rest. It's okay to take the time to heal. You are worth so much.

[santalsaburablog]

Adventures of Santal. Chapter 7. The first day of school is very, very important.

School is a workshop where the thoughts of the younger generation are formed. You must hold her tightly if you do not want to let go of the future.

     Santal - youngling! After a long and intense interview with the Jedi Council, which gives permission, the girl is enrolled in the Order! At the same time, Sabura herself was able to please the adult Jedi. But the joy is clouded by a conversation with an adoptive aunt, who, apparently, is not satisfied with this turn of events. And now Santal is sleeping peacefully in his new bed, not suspecting that the surprises are not over.

     Santal Sabura, at five minutes youngling, slept like a dead woman for once. Finally, she fell asleep in a normal bed, not in a drawer, on a couch or on the sand. On a comfortable bed. Not too soft, but okay.

     The girl woke up because she simply could no longer sleep. She rolled a little and got up. She felt cheerful and rested. After standing, the girl sat down opposite the door and waited for the green eared master.

     Finally, the door opened, and Santal saw the one she expected to see.

     “Good morning, youngling Santal,” said Yoda.

     - Good morning.

     - Ready for something new?

     - Yes. - In fact, the girl was worried. Who will she study with? What do her classmates look like? How will they react to her? And how will she react to them?

     This time the walk was short. The two Jedi quickly reached the desired hall. There were only fourteen children in the clan. Moreover, the company is quite diverse: six people (three boys and three girls), two twi'lecs, which Santal was very happy about. Two more strange children who had many, many processes on their heads. The only difference was that the second had them wavy. A bunch of some kind. The first eye reminded the eyes of that blue uncle, the second human. There was also a peer covered with wool. A child with small horns on his head, a Rodian, and one with red skin with white patterns on his face and a lekku with a white and blue stripe.

     - Your new clan member. - Yoda pointed at the girl with his paw. “Her name is Santal Sabura. I ask you to love and favor.

     - Hello, Santal, - the children greeted amicably.

     “Hello,” Santal replied quietly. However, she was heard anyway.

     Then Yoda ordered everyone to line up in three. The lesson began. The first lesson in a girl's life. The first is at the very beginning of the journey.

     - Let's review the Jedi Code.

   - No emotion - there is peace,      There is no ignorance - there is knowledge      No passions - there is peace      There is no chaos - there is harmony      There is no death - there is only the Great Power.

     Santal listened in silence and tried to grasp the meaning of what was said. So far, nothing is clear. Yoda then revealed that there are three more required Jedi disciplines - Strength, Knowledge, and Self-Control.

     After the lesson, the girl approached the teacher and asked to explain the code. To which the green master smiled affectionately and replied:

     - Patience, youngling. Everything has its time. You will have time to understand the code. Just remember: the meaning of what is said does not always lie on the surface. Now I must leave you. Learn with the rest.

     Yoda left, and Santal was left alone with his peers, who took the opportunity to meet.

     - Hi, I'm Green Prine. - The first to introduce herself was a girl with wavy bunches on the sides of her head. The skin itself was green. Her gaze struck Santal as a little angry.

     - Landa Selmura. - Turquoise twi'lek with dark blue eyes.

     - Max Navarre. - A boy with short, straight black hair with small bangs and blue eyes.

     - Grace Young. - Curly blonde girl.

     - Anna Minara. - A swarthy girl with brown hair and blue eyes.

     - Trilla Suduri. - A girl with black hair, green eyes and a mocking voice.

     - Adrian Keteris. - The boy is blond with green eyes.

     - Fion Taluka. “This youngling looked like a humanoid cat.

     - Denia's body. - A boy with brown eyes without pupils.

     - Svante Solborne. - A Rodian with blue-green skin.

     - Justin Corso. - A boy with hair like Santal, but lighter.

     - Nick Swell. - White twi'lek with blue eyes.

     - Daria Ossaki. - A red-skinned girl with a blue and white striped lekku.

     - Risha Sloane. - The last to introduce herself was a horned girl with fair skin with a pattern on her face.

     Santal shook hands with everyone. Then everyone went to the next lesson. On the way, the girl did not forget to look around to learn the route. Daria seemed to guess her thoughts and said:

     - Do not be afraid. You will remember.

     “I wonder what she is talking about? About names or a schedule with a route? " Thought Santal.

     The history lesson turned out to be no less interesting than Yoda's lesson. Since childhood, Sabura loved different stories. And this time she listened with rapture to the theme "How the galaxy was born." So she learned that a long time ago, at the dawn of time, nothing had happened yet. And then at some point there was a Big Bang that shaped the universe. In the very first moments time and space, energy and matter appeared. As the universe expanded, it cooled down. Its particles formed stars, planets. The galaxy where Santal lives was formed about thirteen billion years ago. Before the beginning of the chronicle, the first known political entity to sweep the galaxy was the Rakat Infinite Empire, which emerged thirty-five thousand years ago. Its existence ceased long before the formation of the so-called "galactic civilization" twenty-five thousand two hundred years ago. Even before that, living creatures such as the columi traveled to interstellar space and built artifacts. The two oldest known artifacts were the Pelgrin Oracle (c. Two million years ago) and the Balancer Station, which was created by the mysterious celestials, also known as the Celestians (c. One million years ago).      

    The galaxy as an official entity began millennia later, when humans discovered hyperspace travel and came into contact with alien races. When several worlds and species learned about each other, they formed a free community, which adopted common laws and monetary unit. Thus twenty-five thousand fifty-three years ago the Galactic Republic became the "official" form of government in the Galaxy.      

     But the surprises didn't end there. After the lesson, Santal first met the head of her clan - a creature with a long tail and an extended head and a cane.      

     “Hello, Tera Sainube,” the children greeted.     

     - Hello guys.     

      “This is our curator,” Santal whispered in Land's ear.      

     - And who are you? I do not remember you. Tera counted the younglings and noticed that there were one more of them. He narrowed his eyes as if trying to remember.      

     - He will study with us. New, - Max answered immediately.     

     - My name is Santal Sabura. - The girl introduced herself as if on command and bowed slightly.      

   - Oh, I remembered! Yoda had warned. Well, welcome, Santal. - The teacher smiled good-naturedly, which made the girl feel better.      

    - Thanks.     

    “Now it's time for you all to go to the dining room. We need to gain strength before physical training.      

    On the way, Santal learned from Landa that the Younglings meditate five times a day. Learn to control the Force, exercise. The girl was delighted. Finally, she will begin to control her, so as not to harm anyone.      

     The food was delicious in the dining room. Surprisingly, the menu consisted mostly of the food Santal ate. In addition to a bowl of soup and a drink, the girl asked for some moldy mushrooms and ricrit meat. The cook, greatly surprised, finally gave out mold-free mushrooms and stewed ricritium. Well, thanks for that. But why the woman reacted this way, the girl did not understand. She probably believed that people do not eat that. Maybe the Coruscant ones are not, but the Rilotians yes. Although Santal did not meet people on her home planet. Neither small nor large. Only tweets. And even then they are exceptionally large.      

     All her life, the young Jedi lived surrounded by adults, which is why she easily found a common language with them. I could calmly come up and ask something, take an interest. But at the same time she did not know how to communicate with her peers at all. Santal just had no idea how to do it. Is it necessary as with adults or do you have your own subtleties? The girl did not know this, because until recently, thanks to her aunt, she did not go anywhere further at home, she played only in the yard, she did not even see her neighbors. Complete isolation. And then she got to the Temple. Despite the fact that so far everything has turned out well, she was still scared. And there was nothing surprising in this. She's been here recently, she doesn't know anyone yet. First met creatures of the same age.      

   Santal found an empty table and sat down. Having managed to overcome half a bowl of soup, she heard a voice.      

   - Can I come to you?      

   The girl looked up from the meal, raised her head and saw Dasha, Landa, Nick and Anna.     

    - Yes.      

   - Hi Santal! - A cheerful Nick sat next to the girl.      

   “Hello everyone,” Sabura replied with a smile.      

    Nick smiled even wider.      

   - You are a little strange. He even chuckled slightly.      

    - Why? - Santal was surprised and frightened. What did she say or did wrong?       

    - Yes, relax! It's just that I personally have never met a girl who would say hello like that. Say hello.      

   “Hello,” Santal repeated.      

   - Well, how do you like the Temple? Like? - continued interrogation Nick.      

   - Yes. Rather, it's hard to say. I’m only here for the second day. - Santal did not understand what he was getting at.      

   - Well, what are you afraid of? - Dasha smiled affectionately this time.      

   - Where did you get it?      

   - Dasha is a congenital empath, - explained Nick.      

   - Yes, I'm afraid. I'm a beginner.       

   - Do not be afraid. We will not bite.      

  They all laughed. Even Santal.      

   - Okay. Let's go to class, ”Landa decided when everyone had finished.      

    At first glance, meditation seemed easy. Sit in the right position with your eyes closed and focus. Santal did just that. And ... she saw something again.      Santal ended up on Tatooine. At first she was shocked. She was just in the room in the Temple. And then I thought, probably, another dream, like the one on the ship. Okay, let's see what this time. Wait a minute ... What kind of dream is this? She might have thought so before, but now that she knows about the Force, maybe she is sending it all to her. However, enough reflections, it is better to postpone them for later.      

      The girl found herself in herself. It sounds strange, but it was so. That is, the mind is in place, but the body did not obey. As if it were separate. Grabbing it around the belt, that uncle carried it. Santal herself looked around. Nearby sat, walked and talked a variety of creatures. There were very few people.      

     Here is a man entered some stuffy room. A little more, and Santal saw a huge fat creature with large, stretched out eyes, small arms and a thick tail.      

      “These are probably those giant slugs that my aunt was talking about. Fu, abomination, ”the girl thought and shuddered.     

      The slug said something in his own language.     

      - What do you want, hunter? - translated the droid. To which the uncle replied:     

      - Would you like to buy a slave? - Blue pushed the child closer.      - Still small. We won't buy, ”the droid translated again.     

      - Yes, still a baby. But he will grow up, - the man replied carelessly, raising the girl to the level of his eyes. At that moment Santal jerked and kicked the one who held her. She broke free, turned around and ran. And the uncle follows her.      

     The baby was running as fast as ever. She was constantly hiding behind some boxes. Completely exhausted, hid. Carefully spied, the man carefully looked around. Probably will run further.      

     “The meditation is over,” said the teacher's voice.     

       Santal opened her eyes. Tatooine disappeared as if he had never been. Spacious room with high ceiling. Nearby, the members of the clan sit in the same position as herself.      

    “And remember,” the green-skinned woman instructed, “meditation is not just an opportunity to strengthen a connection with the Force. It allows us to know ourselves much better. And through this, we learn to better control our thoughts and emotions. Peace. Serenity. Harmony. We must know ourselves before embarking on the knowledge of the Force.     

      In the next lesson, each was given a small stone. He had to be raised using telekinesis. After watching the rest for two minutes, Santal began to repeat. She stretched out her hand and concentrated. She was able to throw those away. And surprisingly she succeeded. True, not immediately. It took several minutes to raise the stone to arm level. The girl looked at the others. For example, Max completed the task in no time. And he managed to lift the Body a little later than her.      

     The exercise was repeated. This time with a thin rectangular metal plate. This time Santal did a little faster. It's always easier to follow the beaten track. But the teacher made the task more difficult: the board had to stand either vertically, then horizontally, then obliquely. So I had to work hard.      

      Then Yoda asked for a series of physical exercises. Everything went well initially. Glory to Sila, my aunt taught her niece to do a little morning exercises. But very soon the girl realized that this exercise was different from home. There is more exercise, so the youngling is tired at the end. And secondly, sometimes they were forced to do something that the baby was afraid or could not, as she believed, do. That's why she didn't want to. But Yoda was not angry with the girl. New girl.      

    - Do not worry. Such things are not for everyone and not always at once. Moreover, you have the first day, - Santal Dasha consoled later, referring to telekinesis.     

     Interestingly, without the last sentence, the girl would have thought that the red man was making fun of her. Like, I can the first time, but you can't. Although why did Santal decide that? Dasha is good. And all Jedi are good. Nobody wishes her any harm. So why doesn't she trust? Or reacts painfully to comfort? Maybe because the daughter of the Jedi? And who are Dasha's parents? And the rest? I have to ask.                    

    - Dasha, who are your parents?      

    The girl thought about it.     

     - I don't remember much. The only thing I know is that my father is a worker on the planet Shealy. And my mother ... I don't remember. You see, I was very young when they found potential in me and brought me here. We are all like that. Except for Landa. It…      

    - Daria Ossaki! - the Twi'lek sternly rejected her. - In my opinion, my biography should not be fiddled with once again. Moreover, you promised. And all around the people.     

   - Okay, calm down, mommy, - Dasha joked and returned to Santal. - Well, what about you? Who are your parents?      

   - I do not know. Before getting here, I lived on Ryloth with my aunt and uncle. About mom and dad, I was always told that they were killed by hunters and that they gave their lives for me. It's all.      

  “Poor thing,” Grace sympathized.      

   “But don’t worry. The entire Order is now your family. A hand for friendship. - Dasha first held out her palm. The others followed her. As a result, a star was formed. At that moment, the mistrust and expectation of Santal's trick disappeared.     

     - Well, guys, what are we going to do after school? Max asked.      

     Santal decided that she would take a walk around the Temple and get to know the surroundings better. By the way, on the way, after talking a little more with the guys, the girl realized that she seemed to be the only child whose parents were Jedi. Wow! Only she's so lucky. Or not. We need to figure this out too. What is there! Santal wanted to sort out a lot. For example, her aunt wanted to tell her something important about her parents, what are their names. The girl even began to think: maybe her uncle and aunt were hiding something from her?      

    Okay, let's leave our relatives alone. That uncle ... Why did he want to do this to her? It is clear that the Force showed Santal what would have happened if that crowd had not wiped her from the blue skin and she had not yet escaped herself. It turns out that she saved herself. In both cases. That's it! And then and then she was able to escape. But why? It turns out that there are not so many differences.      

     So what's the difference? Obviously, in version two, Santal escaped a little later. I've seen more horrors before that. But the giant slug is nonsense. The worst thing is that my uncle tried to sell it. But why? Didn't he feel sorry for the little girl? Previously, she believed that evil does not exist, although her aunt scared her at night with various horror stories. But she did not believe that it was true, she considered it just a legend. But it turns out she was wrong.     

    How did the man talk? As if this wasn't the first time he'd done it. How many times has she begged to bring her home? Couldn't convince him. I even tried my eyebrows with a house. Did not work out. Well, uncle! As if made of metal. Outside and inside. But how does that happen? He seems to be smiling. Not iron to the touch.      

    Wait a minute, and that she is "uncle and uncle" all the time? Doesn't he have a name? Oh yeah, she never found out. And he probably never will. It's sad. Anyway. If he doesn't know, he can at least come up with it. To call it somehow. We must remember how it stands out. Maybe Uncle Hat? It's funny. Evil hat? Resoundingly. Blue death? Enough. Nothing else comes into my head.      

     While Santal was thinking, she reached the library. From what he saw, his eyes lit up. There were so many wardrobes, just wow! The girl wanted to read literally everything! Only she could not read, so she asked to teach. A gray-haired woman in yellow clothes agreed to help the newcomer. This was not the first time she had faced such a problem. So often that it even ceased to be considered a problem. But Santal already had his own plan.      

    First of all, she wanted to find out as many names of the races inhabiting the galaxy as possible. And most importantly, what races her classmates belong to, except for those whom she already knew. But it is not enough to remember, you still need to learn the distinctive features. Yes, a lot more! There is so much to learn.      

     From Madame Jocasta Nu, and that was the name of the woman in yellow, the girl received the alphabet. And then the librarian took her to Sainuba to help her. And it turned out that it is not that difficult. Santal had an idea. She asked for several sheets of paper, cut them into rectangles with some help and drew a letter on each to make it easier to remember. In her room, she placed it on the table so that it catches the eye. Then the librarian gave a book to help and another "for all younglings", which was called "The Jedi Path: A Guide for Students of the Force."     

     By the evening, Santal found out which of her classmates was who. For example, Dasha is a Togruta. Fion is a Zigerrian.      

   Ugh, how tired she was all day. But this is only the very first, it will be more difficult further. I have to get up early tomorrow. No more sleep until you want to. Santal groaned, remembering this. Well, nothing, he will probably get used to it. Now it's time to go to bed. To be more alert, you need more hours of sleep.       

    Sabura lay down without undressing, and soon sleep overcame her.

[stairset]

So admittedly I'm not sure EXACTLY what I'd do differently if I rewrote tlj, bc there's so many problems and lots of stuff to consider that it'd take forever to rewrite everything. But I do have some very messy miscellaneous ideas:

-Instead of starting off right at the second where tfa ended, skip ahead like, maybe a month or two? I dunno like a time skip that's fairly short, but long enough that both sides could plausibly be able to regroup and regather their forces after the losses they suffered from in the last film.

-Rey's been training with Luke and learned a few things but not a ton. Finn woke from his coma a while ago but still needs to get his back injury looked at regularly.

-Finn and Poe regularly talk to Rey and they give each other updates on how they're doing throughout the movie. This way we can have like, actual character interactions despite our trio being light-years apart.

-Like in the film, a fight between the Resistance and FO fleets towards the beginning results in some heavy casualties for our heroes. However these casualties are not the result of Poe being ooc and doing dumb shit for no reason.

-Poe's main character arc is still learning to step up and lead, but this time in a way that actually makes sense for his character. Maybe he beats himself up for losing so many people bc he's lost someone important to him before, and he has to accept that no leader can save everyone. Accept what you can't change and have the courage to change the things you can. Or something else like that. Just something that does his character justice.

-Paige doesn't have to die. Like I never expected her to have a big role bc there's so many characters to keep track of, but I'm sick of this franchise killing woc right after introducing them so let's say Paige just gets seriously injured. Enough to motivate Rose.

-Somehow Rose and Finn meet but in this version she has a consistent personality and they actually become friends and she doesn't taze him or talk down to him.

-I haven't thought of EXACTLY what I'd do with Rose's arc so if anyone has any ideas feel free to add on.

-The tracking the Resistance through hyperspace thing can stay bc it is interesting in concept, but there has to be a little more to it. Maybe the Resistance is trying to figure out how the FO is even getting all this super advanced tech and how to beat it.

-Finn doesn't know everything but he does know the FO has funding from many corrupt new Republic senators and other officials. So Leia sends Finn, Poe and Rose (plus BB-8 and 3PO bc 3PO needs something to do) to Canto Bight, which is actually designed well in this version.

-While they're doing that, Leia and Ackbar lead the Resistance fleet to the Crait base with the FO fleet hot on their tail, hoping to send a distress signal to their allies.

-At Canto Bight they meet up with Lando who was already on a separate undercover mission for Leia. He helps them get the I they need from some skeezy rich bastards who help the FO and tags along with them.

-Rose is the hacker bc it simplifies things a bit.

-They don't spend nearly as long on Canto Bight. Instead, sneaking around Snoke's ship takes up the bulk of their half of the plot. The animal subplot is taken out entirely bc it's pointless. They come for Lando and the info and go.

-Meanwhile with the force stuff:

-Snoke telling Kylo to stop acting like Vader didn't make sense. He should want Kylo to act MORE like Vader to make sure he stays away from the light and shit or something.

-Snoke takes Kylo to Vader's old castle on Mustafar to complete his training as he said he would in tfa, and the Knights of Ren tag along bc they seem cool and ignoring them in favor of the lobster guards was a mistake.

-Mustafar is not only significant to Kylo's family's history, but also canonically was once the sight of a sith temple, a perfect place to complete Kylo's training. Plus as a bonus it connects the prequels and R1 to the sequels in a natural way.

-Kylo's Mustafar training serves as a parallel to Luke training Rey on Ach-To.

-Luke actually teaches Rey some cool shit insteas of just being grumpy and wasting precious screentime with pointless crap, and they have a meaningful relationship.

-Instead of just giving up and going to Ach-To to die, Luke instead came for Important Plot Reasons.

-Basically, we learn that Snoke is an ancient and powerful dark side weilder, far more powerful and more sinister than even the Sith themselves. The very first Jedi knights formed the group to stop Snoke, and during the battle they gave him his injuries, severely weakening him, and imprisoned him in the unknown regions of space.

-Through the force, Snoke witnessed the history of the Star Wars galaxy as we know it unfold. The centuries of war between the Jedi and the Sith. The near destruction of the Sith. The creation of the rule of two that allowed the Sith to rise again and get their revenge. The Clone Wars. The creation of Darth Vader. The fall of the Republic and the Jedi. The rise of the Empire. The Rebellion. Snoke watched it all from behind the scenes, waiting for the right moment to return.

-His opportunity came with the end of the Galactic Civil War. The New Republic exiled the remnants of the Empire to the unknown regions, where they ran into Snoke and he somehow convinced them that he had the power to help them restore their precious Empire.

-So we now know Snoke's backstory, but his exact plan isn't revealed just yet. There are hints, but save the big reveal for episode 9.

-Luke didn't go looking for the first Jedi temple for no reason. He went in hopes of learning about Snoke, and more importantly, how he was defeated the first time to give an idea of how to stop him now. Unfortunately, he hasn't figured that part out yet.

-Make no mistake, Luke may not be bitter and hopeless here but he's not without his own problems. That crap with him almost killing Kylo doesn't happen, but he does beat himself up for not saving Kylo. He was so sure that if Vader could be turned than so could Ben. But the sad fact is that you can't save someone unless they want to be saved, and Ben didn't want to.

-And the big one: Somehow, maybe through that weird force mirror or something like that, Rey and Luke discover that they are in fact father and daughter. Because like it or not that's very obviously what tfa was hinting at. And like it or not, her being his daughter adds more weight to everything. Rey finally concludes her arc of finding her family. And through Luke's training she becomes the worthy successor to the Skywalker bloodline that Kylo failed to be.

-As for how she ended up on Jakku, why Luke, Leia and Han didn't recognize her sooner, etc. That I haven't thought of a good answer to yet, but I'm sure something plausible could be figured out if given enough thought. Maybe Snoke wanted to make her his apprentice but Kylo was jealous and somehow tricked everyone into thinking he killed her and left her on Jakku to die? Or something? Idk. Again, feel free to give ur ideas.

-Back to the Resistance plot. So while all the force shit is happening, Finn and co. have been undercover on Snoke's ship to not only destroy the hyperspace tracker, but hopefully find a way to stop the FO's whole flow of supplies from their sympathizers.

-Since Snoke is away on Mustafar training Kylo, Hux is in charge of the Supremacy. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take him and Phasma long to discover that they had intruders, and they've been onto them the whole time, adding tension for our heroes to hurry the hell up.

-Finn runs into a small group of his old friends and former squadmates from his stormtrooper days, and discovers that his defection inspired them, and they've been secretly sabotaging the FO in small ways.

-So these defectors take the heroes to some important database or something where they can get the information they need.

-While there, Finn also ends up finding a big secret in the FO's database, who his parents were and where he was born.

-For who his parents are, there's lots of interesting paths to take, maybe they're members of the New Republic, or royalty, or Mandalorians, or force sensitives, or something else interesting. Either way, it's possible they could still be alive, leaving things open for them to play a role in episode 9.

-Back to force stuff again, Yoda ghost can stay but only if Anakin and Obi-wan are there too, with Hayden and Ewan reprising their roles of course. I don't know what exactly they'd do, as long as it's plot relevant and more interesting than what we got lol. Also Anakin and Kylo especially have to have some sort of conversation.

-Maybe Anakin tells Kylo how he turned back to the light, and tells him that if he truly wishes to finish what he started, then he should too. Kylo decides that the great Darth Vader he looked up to all this time is weak, and he destroys his helmet, deciding to do things his own way.

-Kylo somehow finds out where Luke and Rey are, maybe through a force vision or something. Instead of telling Snoke, he goes himself with the Knights of Ren as backup, believing he can capture them himself and prove himself.

-So we get Rey and Luke (plus Chewie and R2) vs Kylo and the Knights of Ren on Ach-To. After the epic battle, Luke eventually surrenders himself if it'll get Kylo to spare the others. Luke is only doing this because at this point he has yet to accept that he can't save Ben, and is attempting to save him by doing the same thing he did with Vader, but tragically it won't work out so well this time.

-So Luke is taken back to Snoke's ship where Snoke plans to finally destroy him, and the Jedi with him, thus eliminating the biggest threat to his plans. Rey, Chewie and R2 stage a rescue mission.

-They somehow manage to rescue Luke, and he finally realizes that his nephew is gone for good and he must accept this.

-Meanwhile, Finn, Rose, Poe and Lando got the info they needed, but have been caught, and like the film, Phasma attempts to have them executed.

-3PO and BB-8 find the defected stormtroopers who rescue our heroes right before they can be executed, resulting in a huge chaotic battle of stormtroopers vs stormtroopers.

-During the chaos, Rey, Luke, Chewie and end up in the same hangar and all the heroes meet up.

-Finn has his climactic battle with Phasma, only here it's a little longer with more buildup, thus making it more intense and satisfying. Also that bit where he reveals that she shut the shields down stays bc it was so cool.

-During the course of the film, there are many hints dropped at force sensitive Finn. These finally pay off during his fight with Phasma where she knocks him down and attempts to stab him with her spear. He throws his hands up and accidentally force pushes her back, giving him the upper hand he needs to defeat his powerful opponent.

-So after a short but epic fight Phasma is killed, and our heroes all gather in the Falcon and meet up with Leia and the rest of the Resistance on Crait.

-At long last, Rey, Finn, Poe, Rose, Luke, Leia, Lando, Chewie, R2, 3PO and BB-8 are all united, the hyperspace tracker has been sabotaged, and they have information on how the FO gets their resources which they can possibly use to beat them in the next film.

-Celebrations are short lived however, as the FO fleet followed the Resistance fleet to Crait, and the fight is far from over.

-During the space battle, our heroes, like in the film, board the shuttles to the planet below, and Ackbar stays behind to pull off the epic sacrifice that helps them get down there safely.

-Like the film, they send out the distress signal to their allies.

-As everyone is preparing for the coming battle, Finn and Rey have A Moment and kiss.

-So Kylo and Hux lead the assault on the Resistance base. The battle of Crait is epic and intense with all our heroes using their combined skills and abilities to fight their attackers.

-Like in the film, the Resistance is eventually overpowered and pinned down, and Luke walks out to distract Kylo to buy them time, only this time it's the real Luke with Rey by his side.

-Luke and Rey have another epic duel with Kylo and his Knights of Ren, but this time things go a little different. The distress signal pays off, and the remnants of the New Republic fleet (possibly led by an older Hera Syndulla, not required but it'd be awesome) arrive to help the Resistance.

-Our heroes manage to escape Crait, and now have the Republic fleet aiding them. Luke has reunited with his sister, and comforts her over Han's death. Lando promotes our newer heroes for their actions, the defected stormtroopers join the Resistance/Republic, maybe Paige wakes up and has a small moment with Rose, and Finn and Rey are set to become the first of the next generation of Jedi, and to uphold Luke's legacy when Kylo couldn't. However, Snoke, Kylo, Hux and their army are still out there, and we have yet to learn what Snoke is planning or how to stop it, leaving plenty of things open for the final chapter of the saga.

As stated before this is all just random ideas, and there's probably some stuff I forgot to mention bc there's a lot to think and talk about with this film, so if anyone wants to add anything go right ahead.

[cipherr]

3, 7, 8, 10, 16, 24, 32 !! (also i know you aren’t as far along with her but any of these for our girl Kyhilia after Razhie as well if you want !! ;3c )

YASSSS THANK U BLESS U I LOVE U :’DDhmmmm i would do Kyhilia as well but it’s kind of tricky considering we haven’t really gotten a chance to develop her personality or story yet, and also THIS POST IS REALLY LONG AS IT IS LOL (speaking of, we gotta sit down sometime and rly plan out how we want her to be, once we get a little further on in the story :3ccc i know we have some vague ideas but beyond ‘VICIOUS AND MERCILESS’ we haven’t gotten very far LMAO) so i’m thinking once we do that, i will revisit this and make a nice new post just for her :D because i love her already too and SHE DESERVES HER OWN POST TBH

so, i’m gonna answer these for this lovely lady who fought for her own damn survival with tooth and claw and razor-sharp wit, no fancy space magic, and who really just needs a vacation and a raise (please just give her a break oh my god)

(this got SO long and i feel SO bad about it that i’m putting it under a cut LMAO)

3. Do they fit in with their faction or were they sort of born into it?she’s only ever known life in the Empire, in fact she’s not even entirely sure of her own origins herself. her earliest memories are of essentially being kept as an ‘exotic pet’ by some scummy Imperial noble, which was where she spent pretty much her entire childhood up until her late teens. whether she was taken from her native planet Shili or born into the slave trade, she has no idea. regardless, her former owner got himself in a lot of trouble, and that’s how she found Imperial Intelligence; she actually helped the operative who was sent to the estate reach him and kill him :’) so while she was a slave because of the Empire, she was also given the opportunity for freedom through the Empire…in some sick, twisted way, it worked out for her. the irony was, of course, not lost on her during Certain Events That Transpired In Chapter 2 (that you haven’t seen yet lmao but hoooo fuckin boy are you in for a trip) 

7. Are they loyal to their faction? this is…INCREDIBLY difficult to answer, and part of why it’s taking me so long to make this post LMAO because this is the one aspect of Razhie’s character that i’ve had to give the most hard thinking into, since all things considered… she really should not be loyal at all. she should never have been in the first place. she was given the opportunity to defect...and didn’t take it. now here i gotta admit it: a lot of this was before i really started getting into Razhie as a character. i just played the game and made whatever decisions that came naturally. i don’t want to change her in-game “canon” history, so she’s going to live with the decisions “she” made, and now i get to come up with justifications for all of them :’D it’s a work in progress, needless to say. and my answer here is subject to change as i figure out even more about her character.

THAT SAID,as an alien, and a former slave at that, she never really had any true love or loyalty to the Empire. however, she learned pretty quickly while growing up that when it comes to the Empire, obedience is the best way to survive…and she’s all about surviving :’) she did place some semblance of trust and loyalty into Imperial Intelligence, because they were the ones who helped her leave behind her old life, and her role as a Cipher agent gave her power–something she’s never had. even as an alien, even not Force-sensitive, Intelligence made her influential. so she’ll play the loyal servant of the Empire and do its dirty work from the shadows, given that her alternatives were much, much worse. so if anything, she was loyal to the work she did. she had a job to do, and she was going to damn well do it. besides, no one ever said she was a good person (at least she certainly didn’t start out that way. she’s had a lot of character development and she’s resorted to more diplomacy, thanks to Vector’s influence over her heart lmao) but as she said to Kaliyo once: “I get to lie, cheat, and murder, legally and for profit”–like it or not, she must play the hand she’s been dealt, and despite all that’s happened to her, she is very good at her work. and of course she comes to learn that there are countless good, innocent, and worthy people in the Empire, and those in power (namely the Sith) just squander them, so she will fight for them as well. after all, for better or worse, the Empire is all she’s ever known.

unfortunately, every time Razhie starts to put in trust, it comes back to betray her. she stayed with Intelligence because at least there, she has some agency of her own… or so she thought, until Watcher X, and the Castellan Restraints, and “keyword: onomatophobia,” and suddenly she’s feeling more trapped and powerless than as her days as a slave. so, when the Black Codex fell into her hands, and she had a choice to make–stay with the new Sith Intelligence, or defect, or ‘disappear’–her sense of self-preservation made it pretty clear. she chose to become a shadow agent and work for herself. but one does not simply stop being ‘loyal’ to the Empire, and one does not simply walk out of Imperial Intelligence, and the last thing she wants is to be hunted down by her own kind.  so it turns out that working for herself still led to working in the best interests of the Empire, but at least now she gets to answer to no one. and she’ll take all she can get :’)

what’s more, she absolutely does not like the Sith at all (and you may recall me mentioning once that she has a sister who is a Sith :3c but that’s a post for another time lmao) and very much disagrees with the current form of government that the Empire has (where it’s basically controlled by a bunch of egotistical Sith that are more concerned about power and in-fighting and killing each other and going rogue than actually doing their jobs) so with the disappearance of the Emperor (this is a recent development, and like i said, haven’t done KOTFE or KOTET yet so there are Big Changes Coming lmao) she’s (tl;dr) kind of…holding out for what the Empire could be, a future where those in control are actually reasonable, rational beings, not some unstable Sith… and she’ll do it herself if she damn well has to.

8. How do they feel about the opposite faction?the Republic likes to think of themselves as better than the Empire, and she’s seen firsthand that they are capable of just as much atrocity as the Empire is, they just try to hide it under the guise of being the ‘good guys.’ Razhie knows that war is ugly, and she sees the worst in both sides. her time with the SIS left a bad taste in her mouth, and even after being given the chance to defect, it was a no-brainer in her mind. so basically she doesn’t have the ABSOLUTE BURNING LOATHING for the Republic that many Imperials do, but she has a job to do, and (for the most part, these days) she works in the best interests for the Empire ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ basically, she doesn’t think the Republic is all its cracked up to be. it’s all shades of grey, anyway.

10. What is their specialization class? Was there a reason they picked that discipline?she is a sniper specializing in engineering! she wanted to take full advantage of the technology and (literal) firepower that Intelligence could supply her with, and as she usually finds herself against multiple opponents at a time, it’s a lot easier than just having to rely on her sniper rifle alone :’) she takes every edge she can get tbh

16. What do they do in their spare time?SPARE TIME WHAT’S THAT LMAO honestly i’d imagine she loves nothing more than to lay low on her ship and just decompress whenever she gets the chance, enjoying not being shot at for once. she values her quiet time :’D another big one would be sightseeing…especially since Vector makes multiple sweet comments about seeing new places, going on vacations with the husbug would be quite nice n.n

24. If they could be part of another group, what would it be? You can choice from Old Republic, Expanded Universe, or Cinematic Universe.i’d imagine she’d make a good smuggler! her…special talents in lying, cheating, taking things that don’t belong to her, usually right out from under the person’s nose would just go to waste in any more ‘respectable’ professions :’D but really, given her personality and how much of her life has been built around being an infiltrator and a spy, i can’t really see her doing anything else!

32. Do they have any special skills?basically, all her special skills make her very well suited to being a spy :’D  thanks to the training she underwent for Intelligence, she’s adept at using pretty much any kind of weapon you could throw at her. she can talk her way out of just about anything, and shoot her way out of everything else. she has no problems with resorting to seduction (and she’s VERY good at it lmao) and has a talent of figuring out just what is necessary to manipulate a person–their weaknesses, faults, etc–basically on the fly. she can play a situation to turn out exactly how she wants, and if something goes wrong, she improvises. she’s charming, intelligent, manipulative, quick-thinking, and knows about a hundred different ways to kill people–but can de-escalate a situation almost as easily. she didn’t make it this long as a secret agent for no good reason, after all :’D

OK I AM DONE TALKING NOW but yeh thanks so much for asking because it forced me to sit down and really work through more of the roadblocks i’ve been hitting in developing her character, i still have a lot of work left to do but i love her as a character SO MUCH and i’m really excited to see where it all ends up :’D

and if anyone else actually read this whole thing…pat yourself on the back, holy fuck. thanks for caring :’D

[crqstalite]

SHADOW OF THE SITH, Ch. 13

HAKIOJKL._THE_THUNDERCLAP.

Fuck Leontyne Saresh.

Fuck Theron Shan.

Fuck the whole damn Republic while you were at it.

Hakio and her respective squad were being pulled off a very-well deserved leave to deal with what? Yet another SIS agent's fuck-up? A whole month, the longest time they'd had off, so she had to be grateful for what they did get. It could've been two days.

She was usually much more understanding about these situations, she did sign up for this and she would lay down her life for the Republic any day of the week, no questions asked. But at the same time, there was a point that every soldier asked themselves 'what in the blazes did I get myself into this time?'

Today seemed like it was that day for her.

Hakio wasn't about to blow it off and run. Going AWOL was never the answer and would probably result in a hefty sentence if she even managed to make it out of the core worlds. Though she did have yet to see how and why Republic SpecForces needed to get involved on an Imperial planet. Saresh had sent them some very odd places after Garza had stepped down for the time being, and all of them were getting closer and closer to being in direct offense of the Treaty of Coruscant. Now traipsing all over Imperial territory with no regard for the loss of life that would surely result? That just absolutely stunk of trying to get them off the map entirely while their faction was in shambles. While it was, yes, an opportunity to weaken the Imperials further after what had occurred on Makeb and more recently their Emperor's reawakening according to intelligence reports, it seemed poorly thought out when she ran it through simulations. Ryean often concurred with this opinion. Saresh believed that it was the prime time to cripple the Empire and in turn, the Emperor himself. No one had spoken out against her, so here they were, a few hours out of orbit of the Imperial planet.

An absolutely outstanding plan theoretically, one that she'd like to shred in real life since she was the one that had to carry it out with her own squad.

However, she also wasn't such a horrible person that she'd send the newly formed Mayhem Squad off on their own just so she could sleep a couple more hours. Ziost, from Saresh's point of view, was one of the most dangerous missions they'd handle, if not the most dangerous. Going directly onto an Imperial planet without any other SpecForce teams to back them up? Hakio could very easily see where she was coming from. A lot of the new squad that had formed under Havoc were still a little too green for her to feel comfortable about just overseeing their missions from Command even though they were all rather experienced in the field, but it was Garza's suggestion she let Jaak'lo and Vza'haria be the primary leaders of the operation. It had taking some toiling with, but eventually she gave the order.

Whatever questionable things Elin Garza had done in the past, Hakio still trusted the woman with her life. Maybe thought twice about what she said, what she advised her to do with Havoc Squad while she was on military leave (after all this time the woman still hadn't given up anything about Eclipse Squad to Command, but stepping down for some time would have to do with the current state of the galaxy), but she had yet to steer her wrong too badly just yet.

It would be good to give them a chance to shine their true colors, to see if they really were capable of leading a Republic squad with the reputation it had garnered in the past few years. Not that Hakio liked to doubt her people, but this would be a training exercise with some very real consequences if things went wrong. If they did split from Havoc in the near future, as Command would surely see fit to do, it would be nice to know which pair of hands Mayhem would be in when she wasn't overseeing them anymore.

Captain Vza'haria Atiya wasn't green -- stars she was an original member of Havoc Squad. Older than Hakio herself, for stars sake. She had years of experience that Hakio would die to get her hands on, a Mirialan sniper from the heart of Coruscant who she's sure was born with a sniper rifle in her hands. Though she was often cold, yet also calculating and easy to anger, if anyone should've been leading Havoc, it should've been Vza'haria. Yet her near-betrayal landed her with a ten year sentence and on the military blacklist until she was past her prime. The talent was surely going to go to waste in a prison cell, until Garza pulled her out only a third of the way through to rejoin the squad to track down Fuse on Tatooine. She was still technically on watch, but her service fighting Rakton gave her a chance at leading again for Havoc's sister squad, Mayhem.

Her second in command, also Lieutenant Jaak'lo Khethak was green, very green -- and it wasn't a joke at his skin color either. Yet another Mirialan, Jaak'lo had been in the military for a shorter amount of time than Hakio had been part of the original Havoc Squad before he was already being shoved promotion after promotion. He was an extremely talented covert ops soldier, and often got in and out of places that even Jonas couldn't boast about. He was actually recruited at Jonas' request, because eventually his off-the-books operations (that were, yes, successful, especially for a one man team, evidently digging up some Republic secrets that would get quite a few Colonels and Commanders in some serious trouble) were gaining the attention of the SIS and the poor kid would end up getting himself into some serious trouble if the brass found out about it. Garza had her concerns at first with his 'shoot first think later' attitude that reminded her of Aric in a way, but he'd quickly shown that his stealth generator was not just for show.

They could surely handle Ziost's mission with Xev'heng, Synntai and Ryean by their sides, but it didn't still mean that Hakio wasn't going to worry about the state of her team. Something just, doesn't sit right with her about the entire operation. Landing a direct attack on an Imperial planet? Especially in a time of panic that no one even understood? Something that had the entire Imperial faction scrambling to get it together? Forget that she was pissed that Theron Shan had dragged her into to this (effectively, he'd dragged the entire Republic into his mess from her perspective, so it was totally justified), there was about zero other reports coming in from anywhere. How quick Havoc had been contacted only a day beforehand after their last mission to Belsavis to quell an uprising, it was just plain weird. Saresh hadn't checked any of her sources, all that was known (or was being released to the general public -- the military who turned a blind eye to this, and all intelligence reports were either locked to her or simply weren't being shared) was that something big was going down, and a line of Jedi was in danger. Not even a basic mission report had been forwarded to her or Aric, no briefings that held any real information to it. Only that Theron Shan had lead them there without anyone's knowledge or approval, and now he was in real danger for some reason or the other. Things were way too hush-hush for it just to be an extraction mission for a single SIS agent and a handful of Jedi and not have other factors at work.

Something just didn't add up. Hakio would never say she was the smartest out of the bunch, she rarely was and often wasn't afraid to admit it when she didn't understand something, but even Vza'haria was lost on this one. There were too many unknowns for her to be gung-ho about landing. A lot of caution was to be exercised here, yet no one lived up to that expectation.

And that was just a tad bit too terrifying, being without all the answers. Uncovering things on the field had never gone well for Hakio beforehand. The cybernetics and scars that littered her body made her living proof that one extremely brief report could be the end to a soldier as you knew them.

She had no reason to believe it would now.

Without being under someone that had history with them, it wasn't as easy to get away with things, or get out of unnecessary missions. They couldn't reject a mission from up top, which was an injustice within itself, but there also wasn't much they could do about it until they landed on Ziost. Yet again they were simply pawns in the Republic's war, and for the last few missions, they were getting way worse at chess than Hakio thought they could be.

A whole building full of people, and not one person could be bothered to stop and think, hey, this might get a lot of people unnecessarily killed! We should get more intelligence before we send our top squad onto an Imperial-occupied planet!

Stars, she fucking hated working for the brass. Since Corellia, it felt like that was all they ever did. Moral or otherwise, they followed orders and dealt with the fallout from their decisions on their own. Not like she'd have the job she did now if she didn't accept the way things were, even if it earned her a lot of questions from her parents, or from her siblings after ops that went all the way right...but still made people ask a lot of questions that legally, she couldn't answer.

With a sigh, she sits down on her bed with a huff, running a hand through her short afro. Picking up her datapad off the night table, she scrolls absentmindedly through the few reports that have been received from Command, all overridden by Saresh's new order to Ziost. The day of training she'd planned while they were en route was enough to blow off steam and get the stress of the mission out of her head for a period of time. The team was improving marginally, and it was enjoyable for most involved. Tanno and Synntai had managed to make the entire thing a competition again (though Elara reminded them both multiple times that not only were they opposite genders, that they were completely different species with different skillsets physically), but the raw power they expended was enough to let Hakio sit back and let them burn themselves out. Yuun, while often quiet, was strong in his own ways without the flashy barbells and whatnot. Elara continued to remind her that though she was a medic, that did not mean she was weak or powerless.

The crew had grown since Coruscant, when it'd just been her and Aric traipsing through government regulations and conspiracies galore for the first time. How he'd managed to make every single mission insufferable, how she would do anything to get fifteen minutes away from him, if that. All her buttons had managed to be pressed by the man in the early days, and there were a lot of times she was ready to give up the mantle of CO for just three seconds of relative peace. Then came Elara, a breath of fresh air compared to the Cathar, who she'd bonded with quicker than Aric, heritage and past with the Empire entirely forgotten for their now friendship. At that point was when the Republic sat up and took notice of Jaak'lo, and he began working covertly for Command and in turn, Havoc. Fourex had become her favorite droid in the entire galaxy after Nar Shaddaa. Vza'haria and Ryean had come in on Tatooine and Alderaan respectively. Tanno on Balmorra, Xev'heng on Hoth.

How much her family had grown since then, what she'd given up for them, and what she'd gained because of them. Yes, she'd had a family beforehand, but people she could share the military life with was simply more comforting than people she only saw once every year. With a heavy heart, Hakio fingers the ring beneath her shirt, the one that hangs on a strong golden chain around her neck, typically underneath her armor. She wasn't often able to wear it properly except for during leave, but today she'd had to forgo wearing it to keep from breaking it entirely. It was one of her most important belongings, a simple silver band that still held so much meaning all these years later. It seemed so delicate, yet it'd seen her through the Battle of Ilum without shattering in two. She smirks, her lifemate (it was still such an odd word to use, especially regarding that of her and Aric Jorgan, someone she couldn't even stand three years before hand, even if they had been married that long) had been so concerned about getting her something fancy and shiny that he hadn't even considered that maybe she didn't want anything like it until she mentioned her lack of interest in jewelry only a few months beforehand while they were camped out in the trenches of Balmorra. The look on his face, one of mild relief with that new knowledge. At the time, she hadn't even known he was thinking of marrying her, much less proposing to her.

Such an arbitrary concern now, about whether she'd have a pretty rock on her finger and an out-of-this galaxy wedding. All the things that became meaningless in the following months.

And here they were, about to face down yet another unknown evil. She shakes her head, there were always so many in this line of work. Well, this time it was known, it was the whole Emperor of the Sith bearing down on the galaxy again. It was never fun, and she never knew whether everyone would return to the Thunderclap again because of it. Whether she'd hear the laughter of the team's demolitionists in the cargo bay, or watch as Xev'heng and Elara honed their craft in the medbay, or even share the galley with the rowdy team ever again. Whether someone's bunk would have to be stripped, whether she'd have to attend a funeral in her rarely worn formal wear. Whether someone's weapon would never leave the weapon rack again, if a room remained dark because they weren't there.

Her grip tightens on the ring, before unhooking the necklace and sliding it off the chain to admire it in the dim light. Whether she'd ever see Aric again, was always the question in her mind when she left the Thunderclap. She'd pledged her love and life to him as her lifemate until the end of her life, but that 'to death do us part' line was always hanging over their heads like a dark cloud because of just how easily it could become reality. It was striking just a tad bit too close to home every time the words crossed her mind. There were plans in place for this kind of thing, who would get what, who would be promoted, who would lead. Who's family would have to be tracked down first to ask them the hard questions about what to do now.

It wouldn't make it any easier, watching as her life unraveled, either from heaven or her empty Coruscant apartment. It would leave her with less questions about what to do when he was gone, and she wouldn't be as much of a mess after it all, but she could only imagine how her mind would twist things oh so dramatically. How it would be unbearable to be anywhere that they'd been together, as she'd been by Aric's side since she could remember. To do anything without him, after finally finding the person that loved and respected her, would destroy her from the inside out.

She was still considering dropping the mission entirely. Though, she didn't know how to, they were already too close to Ziost to just drop out now. How to tell Saresh she wasn't interested in risking her life like this for a mission with little to no intel, reliable or otherwise. They were The Havoc Squad. They were one of the most important SpecForce squads in the Republic, if not the most important. If they weren't at the frontlines of most missions, the brass was afraid people would lose hope in their war against the Imperials. Since they'd continued fighting after Corellia and won while they were at it, the brass decided they were the poster children of the military now. Stepping down, for any reason, would paint the Republic in a bad light.

And Saresh simply could not have that, now could she?

Stars she hated her.

"You're overthinking again." Aric says knowingly, and she snaps her head up from her palm, clutching the ring tightly as she swivels her head around to the doorway, dropping the datapad on the mattress in surprise. Hakio had been caught yet again, and she'd been surprised by Aric many times before, and this probably wouldn't be the last time. She was notorious for having tunnel vision when she's focused (or overthinking, as she's been accused of), metaphorically, and this wasn't any different. He'd gone to shower what felt like only a few minutes before hand, but a glance at the chrono on the wall alludes her to believing that it had gotten away from her. She, in comparison, was still sticky with cooling sweat, which was a disgusting feeling now that she focused on it, "What is it about now?"

"Nothing, everything. The usual." Hakio answers, relaxing as the blast door slides shut again, leaving them in relative privacy. Something hits the ground loudly just up the stairs from their quarters, she knows the sound rather well. She winces, though it isn't muted so she assumes it's not a body (one bad argument between -of course- Synntai and Vik that ended in a scuffle that was probably better designated as a fight between subordinates), but it did sound rather expensive, durasteel against durasteel, "Debrief didn't go well with Jaak and Viz, huh?"

"Somehow, I doubt that's it for either of them." He answers, hesitating for a moment before sitting down next her. Almost instinctively she lays her head against his shoulder, feeling the tension drain out of her muscles. It's a comforting touch that she relishes in, and a quiet but obvious purr alludes her to that he isn't exactly hiding his own enjoyment. His fur is still damp, but not wet enough for her to shy away from it, "They seem as if they're in varying states of preparation though, Viz has gotten a little too quiet, and I'm sure Jaak is on the holonet where he shouldn't be. I think it went well."

"It's like watching my younger siblings before a major exam again." She says sarcastically, and he holds out his hand for her, and she takes it, intertwining their fingers together. His own ring glints against the dim light of their quarters, silver against his auburn fur. A tingle runs through her senses as he leans back against her. She sighs, eyes flickering to the datapad next to her before closing her eyes and leaning against him, "I thought I was making the right decision, letting them lead us through Ziost. Though, more and more I think about it, don't you think something smells way too fishy about this? Like...something just isn't right? Especially with us only being contacted yesterday about everything...she can't actually expect us to be okay with this, can she?"

"Hakio, I've learned questioning Command never got us anywhere good, or any closer to answers. If you're really concerned, couldn't you pull a few people from the mission? Eleven people anywhere is already pushing it, maybe it's better we only bring the people we need." Aric considers, before pushing a leg around her so that he has her a sort of hug instead, and she's beginning to melt into puddy at just the feeling of him around her. This, was why people didn't mix business with pleasure, she could never get anything done when he was all cuddly like this, "We don't really need two medics, do we?"

"With our crew? Aric that's like asking for a death sentence." Hakio rolls her eyes, looking up at him. He chuckles darkly, a grin on his face that matched the one that was slowly creeping up on her as well, "As 'classically trained' as our dear Alderaanian heir is, I doubt he even knows his way around a kolto injection. As for Viz, I'm pretty sure she sees medics as optional. You saw the injuries she came back with from her solo mission to Nar Shaddaa. She's a good leader, but absolutely horrid about asking for help when she needs it." Hakio groans, the Mirialan was toting around a few blaster wounds as well as a broken wrist before she'd returned to the Thunderclap during mid-morning reps, and claiming that she didn't need a med droid because here she was, standing on her own, right? That was honestly one of her many fears about Ziost, that Viz would get hurt and put everyone else above her health and stay fighting much longer than she needed to.

Elara had already told her there were plenty of injuries, such as Vza'haria's wrist (that according to records had been snapped plenty of times before and had an extended range of motion because of it), that wouldn't ever heal properly since she didn't take the downtime required for them to heal.

"Everyone comes back with a story from Nar Shaddaa. And that's something she'll have to work out for herself, just like you did." He responds, as she picks up her datapad again during the moment of silence. Just reaching over for it, she pauses to see if Aric would stop her or if he would become upset with her need for it (it felt like all she did was look at the stupid hunk of metal for the last couple of days, and now with their midnight holocall from Saresh hanging over their heads, she's sure he's even a tad bit frustrated that she hasn't had time for him). He shifts so his arms are around her waist instead, his head on her shoulder now as he looks over it, maybe curious about the contents. His purring grows louder as he gently nudges her neck with his chin, and it takes quite a bit of willpower not to drop her shoulder entirely. Hakio's getting a tad too warm to be comfortable, but that's what she got for marrying a Cathar -- entirely not about the way that he made her feel, "Besides Viz though, I'm sure some part of Havoc will get called out for something while we're on Ziost. If we don't make the decision, I'm sure someone up top will for us. And with the lack of information, we could get stuck down there and people could die across the galaxy because of it."

"We're not the only SpecForce squad in the galaxy, but I see where you're coming from. Elara or Xev'heng could be useful somewhere else instead of being on Ziost. Though I wouldn't want to seperate them, you know how Xev gets." Hakio deadpans, thinking of how irritable and quick to anger the Twi'lek medic became without his wife. It wasn't always immediately obvious, but it did quickly become difficult to handle at times. She would think that a medic would be more soft-spoken and understanding, but Xev'heng rarely was soft or understanding to anyone.

"If it's a matter of life or death, he'll wait a week to see Dorne." Aric advises, "Your call though."

"No, no you're right, as you always seem to be for some reason." Hakio affirms, rolling her eyes playfully, "I'll start thinking about team composition in a bit, get people where they need to be before we get to Ziost. Do we even have clearance to land yet?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned, and I highly doubt that we're going to get any sort of clearance to begin with. Think this was a split second decision by our favorite person in the Senate." He growls, scrolling down the list himself absentmindedly as the aurebesh drawls by in a dizzying array of blue, "Isn't the safest op to be screwing with rules and regulations either. Really think there could've been more planning involved, but isn't much we can do 'till we land."

"We'll have to get someone to hit Coruscant for resupply while we're gone anyways. I'd send C2, but he's down for repairs this week because Yuun is updating him and Fourex. Not to mention that we're already nearly there. I don't even have a comprehensive list of who else will be down here with us except a couple Jedi masters that she just happened to mention on the report." She sighs defeatedly, before looking up at him, "Swear this job is going to be the literal death of me. Is there anything we can't go without?"

"Not anything I can think of at the moment. Some of your lighter armor needs basic repairs, but I'm guessing we're going full commando so it shouldn't be a problem." Finishing the thought, he presses a kiss to her lips, and she sinks into the touch. It's as euphoric as the first time, as it often is. Staring into his emerald green eyes, she smiles tiredly, laying flush against him. Hakio can't name another person in the galaxy besides her parents who she's felt safer with than Aric, yet it feels like every moment is another opportunity to lose him. He presses another kiss to her temple before asking, "You ever wish we were normal sometimes? Home somewhere else than a ship? More stable jobs, maybe a litter of runts while we're at it?"

"Normal, is overrated, sorry. What would I even be doing without the military? A housewife?" Hakio asks, chuckling. It's a question that's been thrown around for years, never with a concrete answer either. The military had been sown into her from a young age, and to just leave would be an injustice to her upbringing. Not to mention this was all she knew, she wouldn't know much better to be anything better -- because there wasn't anything better. With all the death and danger and bloodshed, yes she was sure she could acquire a job less gory but it wouldn't make her happy, not the way protecting people did. While productive, being someone like her mom or like her other siblings just didn't interest her. Of course, the idea of being a mother wasn't a horrid one, just not one she wanted to put into practice. Anyone with her and Aric for parents...she wasn't sure she wanted to see the results with all of their flaws. Not to mention that she was thirty four and still lived off rations instead of just cooking 'like a sane person' (courtesy of her older sister Quinne Hyperion, who had lived with both her and Aric while she'd been down from a concussion; the woman despised the fact that neither partner knew much about 'fine cooking'). At least hungry soldiers accepted it wholeheartedly without a second question, including her lifemate, "Think I would go mad within the week."

"Maybe." He teases, sliding the datapad out of her hands and next to them on the mattress so that her attention is on him again, "Maybe not. Never knock it 'till you try it, right?"

"I tried it for nearly twenty years. I hated every single second of it, especially because you weren't in it." She murmurs softly, a genuine, if not also softer smile crossing her features. He scoffs, Aric Jorgan was never one for affection in the pure form, but it didn't mean that he didn't appreciate it, his smile mirroring her own, "To be absolutely clear, I wouldn't want to be anywhere other than on the Thunderclap fixing things, or on Coruscant with the roar of traffic around us and waiting to hear if anyone's caused a scandal lately, or without you. So I don't wish to be normal, I never would've met the people that make me who I am now. That's the answer to your question."

"I don't know where you get all this sappiness, but it looks like it is far too late to get out of it." He snickers. She gives him a look, although the intentions are kind, so she isn't particularly offended by the comment, "Don't ever change, yeah?"

"I think I can keep that promise." Though her mood has lifted considerably since he'd arrived, her expression drops again as her com beeps with an unanswered call, her eyes darting to where it sits charging on it's port. Hopefully, not anyone that would be too pissed with her not answering when they called, "Promise me you'll be careful on Ziost, please. You said it yourself, it's a dangerous op to be playing games with and--"

"And I wouldn't know what to do without you. I know." His hand tightens on her's, trying to comfort her. He isn't exactly smiling at the thought, but she knows that he would do just about anything for her. The injuries he'd sustained while under her direction still makes her heart ache. It was all for her, it was always for her, "We're mates for life, and death doesn't exactly come easy for Jorgans, I hope you know."

"Believe me, I'm sure every medic on Coruscant can vouch for that opinion." She responds, a sad smile on her face as her thumb brushes a scar running along Aric's jaw, "Doesn't mean we're immortal though, Aric. Promise me that you'll be careful, please. It might not mean much, but it'd give me peace of mind at the very least. Know your CO actually gives a shit if you come back or not, and that your wife will miss you so very much if you don't."

He looks nearly apologetic as he tries to form his words, fumbling with his thoughts before he can compose it all, "I promise I'll come back to you, Hakio. I always will. Imps can try to take me from you, but can't promise they'll be alive after it all."

"That's...such a veiled threat, Aric. But I still appreciate it nonetheless." She's less worried now, and more amused by the idea. One that she knew was entirely true and not at all a ruse to keep her from worrying. He captures her lips again, gentle at first before she nips at his bottom lip.  It was the little things that kept her going, the late nights, the brief touches disguised as bumping into each other. Coming home to him was what made it all worth it.

The comm rings incessantly again, so as disappointed as she is, she pulls away from him. Fixing her shirt and picking the blasted thing off it's charger, she waves a goodbye as she leaves their personal quarters and up the stairs to the empty cockpit.

Business before pleasure, as much as that business interrupted her pleasure, it was also the thing that lead her to the love of her life. Hell, if it lost her love, then someone would have hell to pay. She would not go quietly.

She loved him, and before she was Major Hakiojkl Hyperion, she was Hakio Jorgan.

"Major Hyperion speaking..."

-

"Twelve O'clock!" Hearing Aric's voice over her com, Hakio whips around just fast enough to leap out of the way of yet another Sith, sliding on the snowy duracrete. He swings his lightsaber around again, but a sniper shot knocks him backwards onto the ground. Blood pools from his shoulder, and she jacks his head with the butt of her rifle as he rises again. Knocked out cold, but not dead from the look of things. Still breathing, yet not all there. One and the same with the rest of the people they'd faced.

She's partially glad that it's an Imperial this time, they've already run into quite a few Republic soldiers. Thankfully, none she knew by name, rank or face. No one that had flown down with her, no one who's squad she could get into contact with now as far as she was concerned, but a lot of them went down easy enough so that she didn't have to watch them die. A pang hit her heart at the thought, how many orange and white uniforms were now stained by blood that they'd spilled over the last few hours. They'd all been attempting to kill them mercilessly yes, but under the influence of something vicious. She couldn't help but feel guilty, and was sure that it was something that Command would try to cover up in the mission debrief with the Senate. The few that they'd picked off through necessity (just as she predicted, Vza'haria had sustained quite a few injuries without ever telling anyone until they'd regrouped) had stopped glowing the odd, unnatural red that seemed to be the norm among those controlled by some odd force once they died. Hakio was no Jedi, and didn't even begin to understand the inner workings of the Force, but there was definitely something Jedi-ish about all of this, of not Sith. The Sith they'd just been fighting, like many other Force users they'd been unable to kill outright, continued glowing, but didn't move again.

It was time to move on. New Adasta, as she'd learned the name of the city that they had landed in, was littered with bodies and controlled people alike. To say the least, she was very glad that Aric had talked her into leaving the Thunderclap with Xev'heng, Tanno, Yuun, Fourex and Synntai. Leaving the ship here while they wandered around would've probably left it in the hands of some very desperate Imperials trying to get off planet.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard much from anyone lately. Of course, other than the team's coms, people kept quiet as not to be caught by Imperial forces. It was standard protocol, so she didn't suspect much just yet, but their hour check-in was coming up soon. A few squads had already dropped out of contact with the rest of the strike force, Aurek, Cresh and Resh were missing as of the last periodic check up, not to mention how many squads had reported losing squadmates to the Emperor's control. To put it simply, no one could afford to swerve from the mission entirely and track them down, so for now they were simply considered MIA. It was frustrating hearing the silence as each squad called in except for them, and she winced as Krenth's CO kept asking when they'd be back. She had half a mind to think that they were looking for their sibling or loved one on the opposite team.

Hakio didn't want to come across the squads, dead or controlled. She'd never be able to get the picture out of her head, she already knew that much.

No one had managed to find anyone from the squads as they scoured the city either. Whether they'd turned and become part of the murderous populace or simply were hiding out from Imperial forces...it was anyone's guess at this point. And no one wanted to play that game of chicken either.

Not everything had to gone to shit just yet though, the intel was plentiful and she was sure Command would appreciate it. The Imperial forces who weren't controlled just yet were being pushed back, alongside the civilians who were just trying to make it to evacuation shuttles. Saresh had yet to contact any of the squads though, and for now it was just learn and return. And fight back as much of the Imperial military as they could. Civilians were off-limits for everyone, though with the bodies that littered the ground, that they'd been killed in the crossfire, not intentionally. If anything, the few with stab wounds from vibroknives were surely civilian-civilian kills. The aching grows more potent as she averts her gaze from a child who lay motionless against a building.

It was frustrating at best, disastrous at worst.

She was going to wring Theron Shan by his neck if she didn't get out of here within the next few days, or the Emperor himself. Not only had she not heard from a single Sixth Line Jedi within the time they'd landed (no other squad had managed to either, so she took that as a bad sign), it was not to mention that not many knew just how long they were supposed to be here either. With all of the similarities in armor among the snow, this wasn't supposed to be a siege on Ziost, it was a siege on the Imperial military. One that was being lost, not because of idiocy on either army, but because of this new controlled force that was eating away at the planet's population and the opposing forces.

"Viz, three O'clock!" Jaak'lo yells, another Imperial taking a shot at her that Hakio hadn't seen previously. She'd have to hand it to the Lieutenant when this was all over, he was nothing if not extremely versatile in the field, not to mention detail-oriented and precise. Before Vza'haria can even begin to react, something pushes her out of the way, surely the Force again. She hits the ground hard, smacking onto the duracrete with her armor and groaning audibly. Hakio takes a battle stance, cocking her rifle and scanning the area. A flash of a blue lightsaber leaps out of the shadows, striking down one of soldiers in the the encroaching platoon of Imperial soldiers she hadn't seen before. She can't even begin to try and land a shot anywhere in fear of hitting them, but it's very clear that they're not controlled. Which the accuracy and battle tactics, the Emperor had yet to get his hands on them.

Double green sabers follow quickly after, and in the distraction she races over to her fallen soldier, who was already picking herself back up and brushing off her armor with little more than a gentle acknowledgement that she would be okay. Jedi then, she figures as the pair finish off the attacking force. She darts a glance to Aric, who's been perched up on an apartment balcony for a while. He nods back in acknowledgement, and she starts off towards the pair. They're in Jedi robes, dark, long and brown, as she can see from where she's standing now, but there are bits of gold on the armor plating here and there that throw her off of believing that.

No one just...stole a lightsaber and got away with it, right?

For her sake, she hopes she's not walking to her death.

With that information, she treks on across the relatively empty (other than the soldiers, who she gave a wide berth as she crossed) dim street. A sign is flickering in and out, pink and blue, blue and then dark. In the light, one of the assumed Jedi turns around, a Mirialan male with a deep scar across his face, one that was still healing faces her first, "We have a visitor." Is all she can make out from reading his lips as he whispers to his companion.

"What can I do for you, sir?" He asks once she gets close enough to hear. His purple eyes dart to the insignia on her shoulder, "Havoc Squad was called here? Here I was thinking we were the only ones here."

"Then we'll skip the pleasantries. Good eye, and yes. Thank you for what you did, though I'm not sure I appreciate having people thrown around." He looks sheepish for a moment as she calls him out on his past actions only a few minutes ago, before recomposing himself and straightening, "Major Hyperion of Havoc Squad."

"Ah, I apologize for that. It wasn't meant to be an act of violence, though the gentle push wasn't exactly what I intended." His voice is much younger than she'd originally assumed she'd get from the scarred man, yet he's apologetic all the same so she isn't about to chew into him, "Knight Whyatt Grace. My padawan, Dhyndre Djaal." He says, motioning to the woman beside him, who glances up from her now dark holocom. A few shades lighter than she is, the woman has short blonde hair beneath the hood, and piercing blue eyes that seem to glow in the shadows. She flexes a prosthetic hand in greeting, though remains silent.

"I apologize if I assume too much, but you're Sixth Line, aren't you?" Hakio asks, taking in their small outfit. She couldn't see much past them besides a classic speeder bike, one that went out of style on Coruscant ages ago. She holds up a cease fire sign on her hand to get the rest of her squad to stand down, before turning back the two Jedi, "Haven't come across many of you yet."

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't. But we've been separated from the main group for a couple of days now. I wouldn't say that's normal but from the look of things, I'm assuming the Republic's many forces are pretty scattered as well?" He questions, as the rest of her squad crosses the street, Vza'haria rounding out the back, "Have had to hide from a couple squads I think, couldn't figure if they were Republic from a distance though."

That piece of information is enough to make her think the three missing squads had been controlled, but she pushes down the pain for the time being, "We're not exactly the entire Republic army, but yes. We're scattered across the planet, trying to push back Imperial forces. Just as Saresh requested, if you can believe." The sound of clattering boots on the ground makes her shuffle further into the shadows, the Jedi following her lead. Just as they manage to get Elara into the alley way after them, more Emperor-controlled soldiers walk down the street aimlessly. The red glowing is absolutely terrifying to watch as it wafts off of them, and she doesn't turn back to the pair until they disappear around a corner. A sigh of relief settles over the eight people once they're gone, "You haven't been turned yet?"

"I'm sure we can ask you all the same question. People have been turning out of the blue for the last two days, a lot of the Sixth Line has. Master Surro...I haven't seen her since we landed." Dhyndre adds softly, lowering her hood and brushing her hair out of her face, revealing more burn scars along the left side of her face, "Theron Shan. My master and I have tried to get into contact with him for a while, yet no one has any idea where he is. He was the whole reason we were called here."

"Only the blasted Emperor knows, I'm sure." Aric growls under his breath, though she can't even make a face because of her helmet covering her features. Turning away from him, she rolls her eyes anyways, he is right. If everyone is having the same issue with the agent, then she doesn't feel nearly as angry, "Same reason we're here, though I'm sure Saresh only sent us to save his screw up."

The pair share a look, but it's one of understanding instead of one of confusion, "We can sympathize. Though we probably aren't the best example of Jedi to begin with, we are technically black ops anyway." Dhyndre admits, wringing her hands out, "We were sent to infiltrate Ziost, but clearly things kind of went sideways. Theron's a good guy though, he's never lead me astray before. Something's really wrong with all of this, I know it. None of it makes sense."

"Can definitely see where you're coming from on that one." Hakio answers, before her com rings again. Pressing the button the side of her helmet, she listens into the static before it connects, "Go for Herf and Mern."

"Havoc, Mayhem, you're the only squad that's checked in for the last few minutes. You're late by an entire five minutes." Nern's squad CO says sternly, sighing in relief though, "Onith and Jenth are the latest squads to miss their check in, and three more have reported one or two soldiers lost to the Emperor's control. Have you been able to find any of the missing squads?"

"No. We've been alone since we landed, only a couple Imperial patrols." Hakio responds, forming a fist with her left hand as she glances over her own squad. Great, two more squads missing. Out of the thirty squads that had been brought onto Ziost, that meant twenty five were still out there. Others, she was beginning to think were really KIA. MIA was a little too hopeful for this situation if she's being entirely honest, "You?"

"We lost Rwen a couple minutes ago. They started to just...lose it. Catatonic even. Finally they just went red. During that, we just had to leave before they came after us. Multiple stories of the same thing happening to other squads are coming in by the dozen." Hakio can nearly hear Nern's CO shaking his head in disappointment, or maybe frustration, "No one from Havoc or Mayhem is showing signs? Trill mentioned being attacked by one of their squad members because they stuck around too long after the change."

"Not that I know of, no. I have all six of us here." Hakio says, flashing a look over them. No one seemed particularly out of it, so she figured they were good to continue. She gives a longer look to Vza'haria, who's armor is splattered with blood and dented in a few places, but she's keeping a lookout so the concern is dimmed, "I'll keep an eye out for them, Nern squad. Got a couple Sixth Line with us, Saresh want anything from them?"

"Not as far as I'm concerned, no. Though with how many I've seen, keep them close. The Jedi Order in general has lost many today, and I doubt they'll want to lose many more. You got names on them?" He asks.

"Dhyndre Djaal and Whyatt Grace." Both Jedi perk up at the mention of their names, and she can hear the repeat of their names over the com to someone else on Nern's CO's side, "Think the Grandmaster will be happy to know that she hasn't lost them all. If you can, get them to an evac point. Intel is saying that no one is being controlled on the space station or the fleet, and most Force-users seem to be the most affected."

"Could I get that in writing? Hell could I get everything in writing?" She asks sarcastically, and Nern's CO chuckles offhandedly, "I've got you though. I'll keep an eye out for any squads, and I'm assuming Saresh hasn't allowed us to pull out yet, has she?"

"Someone will let you know if she does. Sure from her eyes, we're winning." He says frustratedly. He says something she can't make out, before she overhears a scream. Static takes over the com.

"Nern? Nern Squad? Narvon Squad! Sorin, status!" She can't hear anything, no matter how much she tries to get a response from them. Taking her hand from her ear, she looks up at the small group around her, "Safe to say Nern Squad is down, I think."

"Blazes, not them..." Elara murmurs, disraught. Ailast Sorin had been a close friend of Elara's since Belsavis, and had managed to become acquaintances with Hakio herself. Narvon was his pride and joy, and knowing the Rattattaki was down only makes the entire situation worse, "Major, what do we do next?" She asks, turning to her.

"Whyatt, Dhyndre. Would you be missed if we got you off planet?" Hakio asks quickly, Jaak'lo pulling out his holocom just as the though rise. A map of New Adasta appears in the projection, spinning gently as a red dot lands somewhere on the map that she doesn't focus on immediately. Surely an evac point, "Whether I'm weak-minded or not by your standards, I figure we gotta get you out of here."

"I doubt anyone would know we were missing, or care." Whyatt responds, a worried look in his eyes as Dhyndre turns to him, "I'd be more afraid that the Emperor would try to take hold of one of us. Evac ship or not, as far as I know as long as we're still on planet or in orbit we can still be controlled."

"What would you do with us gone? Wouldn't it be better for us to stay and help?" Dhyndre interjects, "We're Knights, not cowards. I don't stand down in the face of danger." She says firmly, crossing her arms even in the wake of her Master's disapproval.

"The face of danger is taking the form of the Emperor himself, Ms. Djaal. This not a face you should stand in, I'm afraid." Ryean insists, his softer voice attempting to convince the young woman. She's never been more glad to have a diplomat on the team, because she looks halfway convinced, if not less conflicted than a few moments ago, "No one should have to be here right now if they don't have to be. And with the rest of the Sixth Line down and Theron MIA, your safest place would be back on Coruscant."

"I'm helping with or without you, Havoc. Even if Theron's dead, I'm still going to do my best to finish the mission. I'll leave when the intel is solid." Not exactly a compromise, but it seems she's more open to leaving eventually rather than a solid never.

"Dhyndre--" Whyatt starts sternly, before cutting himself off. Something rumbles underneath their feet, the sound of electricity arcing through the air, "That's the power dampeners. Someone's turning them off."

Hakio can hear it herself, and intends to ask why someone would be doing that in the middle of an invasion, but not before something hits the ground behind her. Whipping around, her eyes widen as she can see Vza'haria on the ground nearby, head in her hands. Pausing for a moment, she rushes over, taking a knee to look at the woman. Hakio can't figure what's wrong at first, maybe she's hit her head or maybe she's been shot somewhere. There's no blood, so she attempts to do a once-over. She can barely get her head up when the Mirialan shrieks, causing her to cover her own ears. Bent over on all fours, the woman is heaving for breaths, struggling to do much other than even stay upright. She yanks her helmet off, damp strands of blonde hair hanging over her face. Hakio opens her mouth to call Elara over, she isn't sure whether Vza'haria is having a medical emergency and needs that attention or not, but something's odd...off about her quivering as she tries to pick herself back up off the ground.

Sorin's last words become evident in her mind as she considers what is happening. It only becomes more obvious as her hands first begin to glow red, then it moves up the rest of her armor. Scrambling up, she gives Vza'haria one last look over her shoulder before running the direction back towards her squad, "Go!" Is all she can get out as they follow after her. Pressing a hand to her ear, all she gets is static at first before someone picks up, "Go for Herf and Mern!"

"I hear you Havoc, what's going on?" Krenth's CO picks up, and she's glad as she rounds out the back of the group, keeping one eye on them and the other behind her in case her fallen squadmate -- her sister is following behind them, "Havoc?"

"Reporting a turning, we've lost Captain Vza'haria Atiya to the Emperor." She can barely choke out, willing the tears away, "One more lost."

[apostrophedog-undertale-blog]

Undertrench: Introduction

It is impossible to think nowadays that the Monsterkind, the people who tore though Europe with fire and ancient sorcery in those fateful days of 1913-1919 were once considered our friends and allies.

But the truth is they were, as far back as history has been recorded Humans and Monsters cohabited with one another. Together the earliest societies and civilizations were achieved, and the cultures and achievements that came with it. Despite their differences, it seemed the two races for a while in ancient history considered each other equal, and were united together in peace and in war, and that was their downfall.

You see, their unison was also the cause of their division, for in war they truly saw their differences, Monsters had naturally occurring magical powers were as Humans had strong SOUL's and, if determined enough, could cheat death.

Naturally, when societies based entirely around war and conquest came about, they grew envious of each other. Humans grew envious of Monster Magic, Monsters grew envious of Human SOUL's, Humans started leaving societies with Monster leaders, Monsters started leaving societies with Human leaders, and thus the separation began.

Not much is known about what Monsters did whilst separated from us, what is known is that they united in Western Europe, and that they were united under one, omnipotent monarchy known as the Dreemurr Dynasty, how it came about is unknown, and how the Dreemurr family was selected is also unknown, but what is known is that King Asgore and his Queen, Toriel had been the so called "leaders" of the Monster race for possibly centuries, if not more.

This Kingdom's population consisted of almost every Monster in existence, unlike the Humans, the Monsters were not divided by nations or peoples. They also established their own culture and identity, and no longer considered themselves equal to Humankind, they considered them as cruel and unfeeling.

This kingdom, separated and uncontacted from the Humans lay in peace for hundreds of years, until the 17th Century, where the Kingdom was neighboured by several Human Nations such as Brandenburg, Prussia and Poland. Who saw it as an opportunity to gain land without the opposition of any other European state.

Thus, without any warning, Prussian soldiers marched into the kingdom with strange weapons the Monsters had never seen before, there was little resistance. Then came the Polish with similar weapons, and then the Brandenburgisch, until all of the kingdom was under direct Human control.

For many days the Monsters stayed in their homes looking at the peculiar figures marching down the street, sometimes breaking into houses and looking around, it was obvious they were searching for something.

In truth they were looking for the King and Queen, but to no avail, it seemed that they had ran away and gone into exile. This gave monsters a slight hope for a future, but they would not see their rulers for a long time.

After a while, Monsters were forced into Neighbouring countries, as their land was no longer theirs and their homes would be occupied by Prussian, Polish and Brandenburgisch civilians.

Millions of Monsters were forced to go into new and confusing Human nations, such as the Dutch Republic, the Papal States, the Kingdom of France and the Kingdom of England.

They were not welcomed warmly, Humans considered them to be animals and freaks, the Priests and Bishops and even the Pope considered them to be demons that shouldn't be trusted, and they were ridiculed in literature, theatre and the arts, barely anyone trusted them. They were also not allowed to join the Army, go to any public places, or receive any noble titles like "Sir", "Lord" or "Doctor". The Monsters were treated like filth, but they lived through it for the rest of the century.

In the 18th Century, European nations grew an interest in Monster Magic, due to massive tensions between European Empires many of the most powerful countries wanted the best and newest forms of weaponry, Monster Magic seemed to be the answer.

During the American Revolutionary War, the British forcefully enlisted about a hundred Monsters who could conduct fire magic as a weapon against American Rebels, although the British lost due to the lack of men, the Monster Magic was successful enough in battle for other nations to start using it, such as France and Prussia.

It had been 100 years since the destruction of the Kingdom of Monsters, but still Monsters had this belief that their King and Queen would come back and rally them against the Human enslavers, some Monsters did try to conduct revolution, but these small uprisings ended up in massive military retaliations. Sometimes the Humans would use these uprisings as a way to test out new weaponry, such as lighter cannons or grenades.

The 19th Century started off with a colossal war, the Napoleonic Wars, Monsters once again were forcefully enlisted into the French, British and Prussian armies, approximately 10,000 fought, but they where not treated as living beings, but as weapons. Some armies tried to get Monsters to join them by stating they would be "freer" if they did so, mostly France did this, as an attempt to gain more soldiers.

Throughout the years of the 19th Century, Monsters would be used less and less as the Humans created war machines that can out match Monster Magic, the Industrial Revolution had begun, and yet the Monsters played a big part.

Millions of Monsters started to flock to the capital cities of Europe, mostly London, in a attempt to gain work from the newly built factories, slums were built to accommodate them.

The population of London increased from 1 million to 6 million in the 1880's, most of them Monsters. Here the Monsters went to factories where they made cloth, sewed uniforms, and made bullets for the ever growing Human war machine.

Never before had the Monsters been so mistreated, they were underpaid, undernourished and many died in the smoke-filled factories from tuberculosis, heat strokes and malnourishment.

This was the final straw for many Monsters, and soon, Monsters got together to try and find the King and Queen, and to communicate about regaining a homeland. They managed to locate them without the knowledge of the humans, the Monsters felt pride once again knowing their monarchy was safe, the Dreemurrs secretly ordered the Monsterkind to protest and demand land for their people, these were known as the "Delta Crusades".

In London, hundreds of thousands took to the streets demanding a homeland, the Delta Crusades grew fierce as the newly formed Police Force fought the protests with batons and fists, by the end of the 1880's, the British Government ordered an emergency meeting and realized they had two options, either Europe could give in to their demands and re-establish the Monster Kingdom, or they could refuse, which could lead to war.

European leaders where invited to London the following morning, and it was put to the vote. Britain, already suffering from the previous Crimean War and the war raging in South Africa against the Boars, did not wish for another, and agreed.

Imperial Germany voted no, as the territory the Monsters wanted was inside their borders, but, the majority voted yes, and the Monsters from across Europe left in triumph toward their new home, and the Monarchy had returned too, they rebuilt their capital city, and named it simply "Home".

And thus the 1890's began, and the Royal Family had gained a new heir, Asriel, a cherished new born son. The Monsters, though happy, were confused as to why they wanted an heir now more than ever, but it was soon obvious the Dreemurrs wanted war, and so did the majority of monsters, for the cruelty they suffered through throughout the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries.

The Humans of Europe, now with more new machinery such as Ironclads, Aeroplanes and Machine Guns, also wanted war. But the Humans waited until something happened to justify a declaration.

On the 20th February 1913, a strange yellow light, almost like the sun itself, was seen falling from the sky in Schwerin, Germany.

The ball of light grew brighter and nearer, and soon the citizens went into a state of panic, without warning, it hit the city and caused a inferno of flames and death, torching the city without a trace, leaving behind only black, coarse ash.

Knowing it was Monster Magic, Germany declared war on the Kingdom, followed by Britain and France, the Great War had begun.

[goblinko]

Joe Biel – The Method Behind the Madness of Microcosm

I’ve know Joe Biel since the early 2000s. Joe rose out of the fragmented late 90s Punk Scene as an organizational power-house & created a personal DIY Punk Zine empire that continues to this day. While the aesthetics & tone of Microcosm were never my bag, I recognized that Joe was an empire builder despite the “keep it small” mentality of Punk, zines & DIY in general & I was very interested in this. I always felt bound by the rules of Punk, so much that I decided to drop out of the scene instead of breaking the rules. As I continued to pay attention to the scene, I saw Microcosm both following the rules on some level, creating new rules & then breaking the rules by growing rapidly & taking the business seriously. As Joe took slings & arrows for normal human foibles publicly & ultimately for breaking the rules, I was emboldened to take back the mantle of Punk & do things my own way as well. The issues of figuring yourself out, how your culture relates to you, how society treats you & what do we do & how do we do it on this Earth are all very important & especially if you’re running a business or really any project that is concerned with more than the bottom dollar, but has philosophical, moral & cultural elements - these things come up. David Ensminger interviewed Joe & here it is. x Sean

Joe Biel – The Method Behind the Madness of Microcosm

Joe Biel is a distinct kind of titan in the Do-It-Yourself community that has been a beacon of enterprising hope and a magnet of grave complaints; that is, he helped give rise to the 1990’s version of “xerocracy” – the loose-knit, thriving, democratic, and homespun network of fanzines that made global inroads for writers small and large, while his failed marriage became intensely scrutinized by Internet hordes.

Biel jumpstarted Microcosm, which initially acted as both a music label and raw amateur zine, in the mid-1990s. It roared to life during punk’s third decade in revolt, right as punk seemed to inject a new life code into millions of kids eagerly seeking cramped basement gigs and sweat-thronged rented halls from Cleveland to the Czech Republic. Microcosm was a major part of the dialog, action, and activism.

As CDs, cassettes, and Xeroxed self-publications became cheap and easy to distro, Biel became a force aggregator – he utilized the Internet to cut out the middlemen, took painstakingly time to develop sustainable business models that emphasized vivid content over mere profit, and formed a distro that became a lifeline to those seeking underground literary kicks. Plus, he helped pave the roads for zine symposiums and grassroots advocacy discussions across the land.

As chronicled in his new memoir Good Trouble, he navigated relationship woe, battled with his own undiagnosed Asperger’s, and attempted to cohere a collectivist approach, sometimes with intense personal pain.

This is a discussion that tries to peel back some of the layers of his life and a shine a light on the methods, memories, messiness, and occasional misery.

(David): First, you've attributed some of your success with Microcosm as a byproduct, in a way, of Asperger Syndrome; that is, you have analytical skill sets that help keep Microcosm afloat. Is part of that, though perhaps a byproduct of living in the industrial Midwest too, where they tend to instill strenuous work values?

​(Joe): Yes, I would say that my success is a Molotov cocktail of Asperger's, my difficult childhood, and my Cleveland roots. I think that each taught me fundamental survival skills that carried me before I really knew what was going on. ​I wasn't familiar with his music (or much about him at all) but the place that I stayed last week had a copy of Jay Z's Decoded and according to him, to be successful on the streets you need: 1) To be able to do math in your head, which I can do because of Asperger's. 2) To be a good judge of character. My mom and many other people in my childhood lied to me daily, so I learned to do this quite young. 3) To be able to make quick decisions. Opportunities weren't often presented to me, so I learned to think quickly. Growing up in Cleveland as the steel mills were losing their business to Japan, I developed a strong work ethic. I had a paper route when I was 12, worked at Burger King from when I was 14, and was managing a restaurant by the time that I was 20—while I was simultaneously working full-time to also launch Microcosm. In the 1980s, everything felt somewhat hopeless and meaningless, so I took that as a cue to do the things that were important to me instead of worrying about nuclear winter. I figured that I could at least create some tools for the next teenage kid who was born into a hopeless world.

(David): You spent a bit of time focusing on the music scene that immersed the city, from the Pagans to Integrity, but how would you say that music scene taught you lessons, or opened your eyes, in ways that you carried to Portland and Bloomington?

​(Joe): The punk scene was where I learned and developed morals and ethics when I was 15 years old. It disrupted—in the best way possible—my nihilistic youth of shoplifting and getting drunk and vandalism. The punk scene taught me that other people weren't selfish soulless demons and that they could care for me and about me. It also taught me firmly held politics, which I took to didactic extremes. The scene taught me that I liked reading and learning and about social issues. As a teenager, the scene taught me how to respect other people and why that was important. It taught me the value of protesting and fighting for the disenfranchised. In every way, those were the values that shaped Microcosm and are things that I still carry as important to this day.

(David): You say that punk led you to the politics of didactic extremes. What does that mean -- trying to live a "pure ideology" culled from impression of Crass records? But didn't punk, in very DIY ways, teach you about pragmatism -- getting things done, despite the odds?

(Joe): Because of my Asperger's, I was pre-disposed to didactic extremes. Punk was very nurturing of this kind of thinking -- e.g. RVIVR good, George Bush bad. Because I learn by failing and trying again until I achieve positive results, didactic thinking was very encouraged and I fell into a deeper and deeper slump of it until I became influencing other through that same spiral e.g. We used to sell the "Make Up is ugly" image but it doesn't leave a whole lot of room for individual thought or expression and the conflict in the message was really confusing to me when it began to upset people. Were they wrong? Was I wrong? Was it possible that we were both entitled to our own opinion? This kind of thinking was not happening for me until my 30s. Honestly, getting that perspective was important because previously I had been solely "getting things done" without always thinking things through. I could think quickly but I was doing that from a very young age before my views were quite formed.  (David): Like me, you grew up in the 'burbs, distanced and detached, though this was meant to provide us a life of relative leisure and quiet that perhaps our parents lacked growing up. Is the hidden history of punk in America, in some ways, carried on the backs of people like us, in basements and ranch homes, and not just by the inner city tribes routinely chronicled in books like Please Kill Me? ​(Joe): 81% of the population of Cleveland now lives in the suburbs and that doesn't even count the far-reaching exurbs, which have replaced farm land almost all the way to the next city in any direction. Those suburbs, in particular, were created directly out of xenophobic fear and racism. The eventual result was to hide the violence inside seemingly tranquil homes and allowing neighbors to deny that it's happening. While writing the book, I did quite a bit of research on the city's history and remembered that my former high school had a major scandal when a treasurer had either lost, stolen, or lied about over $20 million dollars missing from the treasury and successfully sued the city when he was fired. That is the legacy of the City of Cleveland and the people who escaped to the suburbs largely did it and carry it on by climbing on the backs of their fellow workers.

Nonetheless, I had other punks my age in walking distance and on my street and never felt disconnected by much other than the incredible planned sprawl of the city and its car culture nightmare. I knew kids all over the world, and the DIY venue that I was most involved with, Speak in Tongues, was on the far side of the city from me. I think it was the first place where I saw a car set on fire and learned not to go buy beer across the street alone or I'd be mugged. I feel like I got credit for my contributions, as there is even a book, Escaped to the Future by Ken Blaze, about that era of Cleveland, and I'm photographed and quoted in it extensively. But I did feel like the music that came out of Cleveland in the 70s, 80s, and 90s was better than elsewhere. Perhaps that was a product of my age and general enthusiasm, but when I listen to those records today, they still hold up even if they aren't household names. So, in some ways, The Unknown, Snarkout Boys, Grain, Cripple Kid, and Blue ... Max are my best kept secrets that no one cares about.

(David): No doubt, the racism embedded in Northern cities, especially in areas like housing, education, and policing, is a not-so-hidden scar of America. And you mention the violence of the 'burbs, which often goes unnoticed, or ignored, hidden behind the facade of "good homes." For me, it was molestation: for you, it was familial physical abuse and verbal degradation. When I attempted to tell neighborhood kids, they taunted me, so punk rock became my counselor. What people, or music, or magazine, first taught you to channel anger, cope with fear?

(Joe): My dad had two strokes in 1983 and became permanently confined to a wheelchair and incapable of speech or unassisted living so I did get a lot of comfort from neighbors who assumed that my grief and hardship was a result ​of that rather than the daily violence and fear in my home. Seemingly similarly to you, when I told people about how I was routinely beaten and that's why I was so defiant, they would make excuses for the situation. I think it was too ugly or uncomfortable for most people to really want to think about my disabled dad and I getting beaten when he couldn't even defend himself. So I dealt with it like most people do, by getting drunk every day. But by the time I was eighteen or so and began hanging out at the DIY punk venue Speak in Tongues, I can't think of another way to say it other than the format of open air expression there was really liberating for me in slowly exorcising my demons. Punk had been more ethereal for me before that. I had certainly been picked on in high school for reading Maximum Rocknroll and it was neat to see all of the global goings-ons but it wasn't real for me until I was physically in the thick of it several times per week. In my later teens, zines continued that trajectory of getting in touch with my feelings and what had happened to me by meeting others who did openly talk about it and that was cathartic obviously, but not nearly as much as being able to write out and express what had happened to me. Eventually I wasn't angry or afraid at all anymore. I didn't realize that was possible.

(David): One thing that has puzzled me over the years is the divorce of fanzine and zine culture: in the 1980s, I felt the underground print community, from Flipside to World War 3 Illustrated, felt like a crossover grouping. But when I tabled at the 2008 Portland Zine Symposium, I felt like the zine world—more illustration-based, personal, and narrative—and the fanzine—more reportorial, music-based, and conventional—had separated. When you tabled at Propagandhi gigs, did this seem to be the case as well, given your 1% analysis?

​(Joe): I may be partly to blame for this so I apologize. When we founded the Zine Symposium and also while seriously getting Microcosm off the ground in 2001, there was a certain sense that the music scene was well-documented and there were outlets and avenues for those fanzines, like record stores and punk shows. We cultivated the scene more around personal and individual expression about experiences and artistic takes on important historical moments. In many ways, I think that all of the founders and organizers were the ones who felt left out of the music scene as it was too macho and didn't often speak to our experience or current trajectory or interests. Ironically, Eleanor Whitney and I both had played in numerous bands but still felt this way, to some degree. Nicole Georges went on to perform as an even more serious musician than any of the rest of us, but I believe that she did it on her own terms, as she does everything. And she did fully document those moments in her zine, Invincible Summer, but it was more of a lifting the curtain than documenting the scene.

For better or worse, we were reacting against a legacy that wasn't interesting to us any more. I don't really know anything about contemporary punk or any kind of music. I own all of my records from the 80s and 90s and spin them when I'm making dinner, but that is a fully compartmentalized world from my zine making. By the time I was touring with Propagandhi in 2007-2009, most of the reading material that Microcosm and the band provided was about global politics. I don't think there was a single music fanzine unless a kid brought their own to a show. Right now I'm staying with Richard the Roadie who started this legacy by bringing AK Press books on tour with bands like Avail and Rancid in the early 90s. And by 2007, I think a lot of kids trusted their reading to Propagandhi even if they didn't have a stance on nonviolence or oil pipelines or Native American rights. I also have to cite Aaron Cometbus as majorly paving the way for making punk kids more literate and interested in subjects other than music.​

(David): You mention Aaron Cometbus, who created a hybrid music/art/narrative zine, as paving a way towards punk literacy, but you also take some credit for creating a schism of sorts between the music and art portions of the zine scene, simply by way of symposium structures, etc. For me, as someone in his 40s who still plays in three bands, I am a bit stunned that modern punk, or any modern music, does not play much of a part in your life. You call it a kind of compartmentalization, but might not others see it as abandonment?

(Joe): Punk continues to play a huge part in my life today. But you seem to be defining punk ​solely as music, which is kind of my whole thing: Punk has always been much more than just music. The music is a very small part of it to me.

(David): Speaking of AK Press, as well as PM Press, who also seem to follow similar models as Microcosm -- keep operations close to the ground, table at gigs and rallies, feature titles that are underground and political -- how would you distinguish yourself from them to a general audience? Perhaps your longstanding dedication to DIY manuals and books for bicycle advocacy, less emphasis on sectarian politics?

(Joe): In terms of spirit and editorial ideology I can see how all three look similar from the outside. We are all mission-based publishers rather than profit-oriented. I think the biggest differences are in development. The prices of Microcosm books, on average, are half or less of AK or PM and we manage 75% of our sales in-house while, to my understanding, they both develop for and rely upon their book trade distributors for the majority of their book sales. The result is that their books "fit in" better in the bookstores while we focus most of our effort on "the ground game," organizing our own author package tours and finding the excited readers for each book rather than relying solely on author or distributor. While we might all be interested in publishing the same book, Microcosm would do it very differently: smaller trim size, lower price, less conventional cover, and humorous subtitle. Our author royalties are also double the industry standard and we sell books to the authors at cost, taking more inspiration from Lookout Records than book publishers in our model. Granted, in 20 years we've lost zero books to either PM or AK but we have won several books that have submitted to all three and all of the books we've lost have been to Soft Skull when their pockets got deep. I respect the models of AK and PM but they are deeply different models, mostly because they follow convention quite a bit more.

(David): Throughout the memoir, your well-intended criticism of progressive, left-leaning, or DIY culture gets a bit more heated and pointed, whether it's the "echo chamber" effect they seem to embody, or their tendency, perhaps, to rely on emotional responses rather than reasoned analysis. In some ways, this reminds me of Paul Krugman's dissection of Bernie Sanders' economic platform, whose fuzzy math may not be much better than Republicans, though his ideals are. Do you feel like a bit of a heretic, even now?

​(Joe):  I have felt like my views have been at odds with my community's for my whole life so I'm quite comfortable challenging—and hopefully gradually reshaping—the views of the scene to be a better environment for every weirdo who wants to be a part of it. I stand behind my critiques and had many years to consider them and why things rubbed me wrong. I think an emotional response is appropriate and should be met with an empathic response but I think that people in the punk community have a harder time understanding the difference between that and attacking someone else, without really knowing what they want from that person. It doesn't do any good to pour salt into the wound if the only result is getting worked up without a hopeful chance at resolution, or even knowing what that would look like. It is with the same love that the scene was my only real family for most of my life that I raise these criticisms. Krugman's analyses of Sanders were disproven, to my understanding, so let's hope the comparison doesn't stick and I'm remembered instead as the loyal opposition, better arming the choir.

(David): You became mired in the gentrification politics of Portland a few times as the city shifted from a hip outlier of sorts to Portlandia, the stuff of legend—though San Francisco likely has now stolen the conversation and news. Do you think Microcosm could develop and thrive if you moved there today, right out of the Midwest, with your communal living and DIY spirit?

(Joe): At my reading event for Good Trouble at Powell's, someone asked me how Microcosm would be different if it never left Cleveland and I think about that a lot. Portland genuinely shaped Microcosm for the better, but the city is not what it once was. The once glorious DIY clubs Spurcraft and 17 Nautical Miles are now a trophy store and a bar.​

Portland now has the most population growth per capita and worst rent hikes​ in the U.S.  We have virtually no tenant protections so people are routinely served 30 day notice that their is rent is increasing by 50-300%​. It's such an epidemic that it's legal to camp anywhere in city limits and it will be the issue that determines the next mayoral election, as there are still no jobs. I see what our youngest staffers have to go through to make it work in Portland these days and I respect their determination and hard work. I no longer have eleven roommates or cheap rent but I am inspired and motivated by different environmental factors around me now. I'm not the kind of person who longs for the past, but I don't think that the Portland of today would have created the same Microcosm anyway. At the same time, there's also many reasons that I'm still there, though they are more personal, like it's the only place that I've ever felt like home and it's where the people who love me the most are. Will that last? I don't know.

(David): But many people might wonder, if Portland and San Francisco, once considered the most liberal bastions in the country, cannot effectively counter hyper-gentrification or democratize their housing market, what hope do others have? What lessons have you learned from Portland that might help others, right now, who are about to face similar situations in the near future? Immediate tenant organizing?

(Joe): I think "liberal bastions" is exactly the problem. In Portland, the liberals are often involved in the most passive racism of any citizen. Residents had absolutely no problem uprooting people of color from their historic neighborhoods when our population first boomed in the 21st century but once middle-class white people were being priced out of the same city in turn, they were legitimately outrage but couldn't seem to see the connection. I was featured on the front cover of our daily paper The Oregonian talking about this in 2007 and people literally ​laughed about the situation, saying that I was overstating the problem. No one would be laughing now when you rent a shed for $1,500/mo or spend $2,500/mo for an apartment. Of course the problem is that it’s far too late to offset or push back on the development or even slow it down. Naturally, my advice would be to keep an ear to the plight of people who don't look like you and stand up for them when they are suffering from gentrification to build a movement that can take care of each other. Listen to people's concerns who are more marginalized than yourself because while you might not have the same concerns you will likely have the same issues before too long. If we had done that we could have stopped it. People's refusal was really soul-crushing for me.

(David): In some way, even better than larger publishers, you have mastered the economics of scale—not simply through the trial and error of being a collective, or of being a DIY maverick, or by reading a million How-To books, but by understanding your audience. Yet, we have both seen the near death of print—the collapse of distros, the collapse of global outlets like Tower Records—and the rise of the Internet. What is the future of print? I know Amazon is planning brick and mortar bookstores, so is rejuvenation likely?

(Joe): I often tell the story of The Bell Curve which "hacked" its way into the New York Times bestseller list through advancing the appropriate number of copies through sales channels that "count" and putting the authors on every key daytime talk show that triggers stores to heavily stock a book. Inevitably the books were shipped and ​many were ​returned unsold because the book was developed for ​the industry, not for the reader. And it was racist. I feel like the entire industry learned the wrong lesson from this and now operates this way, trying to leverage books onto a list instead of for the people that love them deeply​

My strategy has always been to ignore things like Tower or Amazon or even trade distributors and create a parallel system to reach readers. Since day one and still true today, I consider each challenging narrative that Microcosm would like to tell next and then assess if taking that risk could seriously jeopardize us. If it won't, we do it even if there isn't much of a potential financial payoff. Because we're building the world that we want to see while most of the publishing industry is making one risky investment after another and wondering why they aren't paying off. The death of print is nothing but a media buzz phrase. 2015 was Microcosm's best sales years ever. It was also a record year for books in general with sales up $50M—and a record year even for indie book stores. But now post-recession technology floods the market with 4,000 new books every day.

Most of them are not developed titles, meaning that if you look at the books you can't tell what the benefits are that the books offer by looking at them for five seconds. It's just more static and noise for an already overwhelmed reader to parse. The recession taught us that people will treat books as a luxury item as they are forced to spend more and more hours of their day working. It also taught us that millennials read much more than previous generations and certainly more than we give them credit for. There are just too many books for any person who already has job to make sense of so each one sells fewer copies. After 20 years, I recently read a book about how publishing math and risks are supposed to work and I learned that I had accidentally hacked the system. My method wasn't better or worse; it was different and I think that's why we've been able to grow and evolve while most mid-sized houses are bankrupting or getting bought by majors. It's a very good time to be a small publisher because for the first time in Microcosm's history, we can do exactly what we want to do without having someone compete with us for a title and only about 1% of our titles have flopped because of mistakes that are now obvious. I think the future of print will be achieved through solid development directed at readers and fans rather than what I see most publishers doing, which is still developing for buyers of major retailers. Putting books into envelopes is the future of print for any small publisher that wants to stay in the game.

(David): I understand you don't necessarily miss the Tower Records stores, since the Internet creates a global exchange without the need for intermediaries, but I do recall seeing, with a profound sense of loss, the inventory list and money owed from my defunct distributor Desert Moon, which carried hundreds of titles, many of whom no longer exist. Yes, book sales are up, but music magazines have diminished. Do you have any suggestions for coping with the new world of publishing, or for those keen to create a new fanzine/magazine, in the age when books, or even mags, might be considered luxury, as you suggest?

(Joe): The Tower Records stores held a distinct advantage—it was a really key way to get zines and books to suburban kids who needed them most. We waffled quite a bit about selling to them when they came to us ​but ultimately thinking about the isolated kids who needed them was what sold me on it. So it's not that I don't miss the stores—in some ways, I do. But my point is that you cannot rely on places like Tower or Desert Moon. They aren't our friends and their goals were never our goals. They aren't the kind of place that we could ask to do any favors. I think Tower owed us $800 or something in the end and while they had the money to pay their bills, the bankruptcy lawyers fought over the money until it was gone instead. I built Microcosm to never rely on any one source of sales or income so we wouldn't tank when one place or another went under. And I think zines like Razorcake are built the same way, by having a loyal audience in a dedicated community that pays the bills through getting lots of small checks from lots of places. Refusing to put zines in envelopes is the biggest mistake that I've seen publisher after publisher make and outsourcing those jobs to fulfillment companies and relying on distributor and ad revenue is what swallowed Punk Planet too. A friend of mine from high school did their mail order for years and I talked to the publishers at the end and asked them why they didn't continue doing it out of their office. The answer boiled down to "We don't want to do that kind of work." But I think that kind of work is the difference between sustainable and not, and most dangerously it's when you lose touch with your roots over some illusion of becoming white collar.

(David): Your argument is that titles are flooding the market, a deluge, a gray-out, of sorts. Yet, I heard this exact same perspective from people like Ian MacKaye of Dischord in the 1990s/early 2000s, when pressing 7"s and CDs, basic documentation of music, became cheap and ubiquitous. Yet, that is WHY Microcosm could be started -- the mass democratization of print. Are you arguing that less books should be printed, less voices heard?

(Joe): I think that intentions matter most. I think that of the 4,000 new books being published each day, I think that the vast majority are done not to document or preserve culture but as attempts at commercialism or vanity—in the hopes of "being discovered," pride in the accomplishment of writing, or simply because so many people see writing a book as a lifelong goal—even when they don't necessarily have anything to say. Most of our publishing peers are commercial and struggling. Most authors that I meet are writing in the hopes of it replacing their job at any cost. You would be shocked how many writers are quite willing to write romance or mysteries because even when they have no interest in them, they know that these genres are what sell. So, to answer your question, no, if a voice has nothing new to add to a conversation I don' t think it should be heard because it drowns out substantial voices. Like any considerate person, I think figuring out what a person has to say is much more important than being heard. But as I said, if proper development was done on every book—looking at what's already out there and differentiating from it to offer something new and interesting—I don't think there is a limit to how many books should be published or would be well-received. My opinion is that fewer inscrutable books should be published that no one can quite figure out what they are or who they are for. You need to be able to know how the book is unique and what benefits it offers by looking at the cover.

(David): Your diagnosis of Asberger's ​Syndrome seem to illicit varied responses even from the people closest to you—you seemed mild in comparison to others, or simply just another phallocentric male with routine behavior akin to everyday power struggles. Why, in a community that supposedly relishes social justice, fairness, and equality, did people have such a difficult time? Broadly speaking, has the DIY/punk community done a poor job of addressing dis​abilities?

Trying to recall standout Aspie​ incidents for the book was difficult because before my diagnosis, behavior that would stand out to others wa​s totally​ natural to me. Often when I get the reaction "You don't act like so and so that I know who has Asperger's" I tell them about the time that I was fifteen before Catholic confirmation and as part of what I know understand was a bonding and socializing game, we were all supposed to share something about ourselves as went around the circle. My first turn I monotoned, "I like cake." On my second turn, I said, "My favorite color is orange." ​By the third time around when I said that, "My name is Joe," the counselor interrupted to say, "This exercise is more rewarding if you try a little harder, share, and don't act like a brat." This totally floored me as I wasn't meaning to be uncooperative and was completely following the rules as they were explained to me. I felt like an asshole but showed no emotion outwardly. I didn't know what appropriate sharing was until I was diagnosed at 32. I had hidden or created workarounds for many of the ticks and tells that I had exhibited. It did not mean that I had resolved the symptoms and problems. I have very dull mirror neurons, the receptors in the brain that cue a response to subtle and emotional communications that others expressed to me. Sometimes this was meaningless or harmless, but sometimes I could really hurt people's feelings and could come across as quite callous. Years later my ex-wife came to see my behavior as "emotional abuse" and while I believe that her pain was real, I was doing the best that I could with the tools that I had. For me the most hindering part of the disability was not being able to read people's expressions or nonverbal communications and hurting their feelings as a result. I've done years of work in cognitive behavioral therapy to learn how to pantomime and intellectually mimic what most babies are born knowing: how to read emotions and respond appropriately.

I think that understanding the highly nuanced complexity of how disabilities require special needs and are not simply a person choosing to be difficult does not mesh well into a didactic punk scene where things are right or wrong, good or evil. Intersectional politics are simplified into black and white halftones when the real world is quite gray and many kinds of privilege are not willing to be discussed yet. Strangers purport to know more about my life and motives than I do. Maximum Rocknroll, who has spent millions of pages printing letters arguing back and forth about who is and is not a Nazi has refused to run our ads or reviews or even engage with me about the situation. I don't think that anyone could reasonably disagree with me that DIY punk scene has done a horrendous job of understanding and addressing disabilities, just as it has historically with gender, race, and sexuality​.

Even after I was diagnosed, I could not tell you how many people​ still did not want to acknowledge that my Asperger's has tremendous bearing on my behavior and is the cause of failure in navigating so many emotional and complicated situations throughout my life. And that's what was really heartbreaking: The DIY punk scene was the only family that I've ever known and for them to have such an obvious and painful failing that has clearly affected so many people in situations like mine is heartbreaking.

C​onnecting it all together, I recently was interviewed by another Aspie businessman who expressed that he wasn't concerned if he offended someone by what he said or rubbed them the wrong way. And I feel like that's the difference in me because of my punk upbringing: While I lacked the ability for most of my life, I want to create a caring and empathetic world for everybody where we hear each other's concerns and act responsibly. I think it's important and groundbreaking for men to talk about their feelings.

(David): You say, “The DIY punk scene has done a horrendous job of understanding and addressing disabilities, just as it has historically with gender, race, and sexuality​." I agree wholeheartedly with the first, and that's why I penned a whole chapter on the links between deaf culture and punks in my new book, but are you suggesting that Punk Planet, Slug and Lettuce, HeartattaCk, and Maximum RocknRoll didn't explore gender, race, and sexuality? I recall sometime whole issues dedicated to the topics, like a Maximum RocknRoll "Queer" issue etc.

(Joe): Exactly. The fact that Punk Planet, Slug & Lettuce, HeartattaCk, and Maximum Rocknroll all have explored race, gender, and sexuality so thoroughly are the biggest indicators that punk is racist, sexist, and homophobic at large. Why else would a theme issue every few years on a topic like this be interesting or necessary in the first place? Of course, it bears repeating that it's only the outlier punk zines that focus on ableism. Does the existence of these zines disprove that the ableist discrimination in punk is real? Of course not. It just shows how much further subcultural understanding of the issues has to come and offers some guides of how to do so.

(David): Whether in terms of operating Microcosm, or in terms of grappling with the DIY community about conflict resolution regarding you supposedly causing "unsafe space," means you apply knowledge culled from experience, logic, history, and deep reading, rather than a DIY member relying on pure emotion and sensibilities reinforced in an "echo chamber" --  a DIY member who easily falls prey to ideas like: “Microcosm is not really a collective, and Joe is a rampant emotional abuser of women.”

(Joe): I think that what changed in the millennium is that punk​ identity politics established a new rule: people put up black and white ​rules that assume that remove fact-checking from an equation. I've deeply hurt people's feelings through my actions. But it wasn't because of my intentions that that happened and more often than not, I left those encounters deeply hurt as well. I was difficult and frustrating to communicate with because of undiagnosed Asperger's, not because I was intending to manipulate or exploit people. I learned from those mistakes, changed my behavior, and tried to resolve those conflicts. I cooperated with what was asked of me but in hindsight there isn't mechanism for resolution, just feeling good in the moment; winning the battle to lose the war. But the scene isn't equipped to understand that. Intersectional politics have been a huge struggle for many social movements so it's not a huge surprise. But it really hurts to think of how many other people this must have happened to through the last thirty years and how asking questions and fact checking vague accusations results in more bullying. Often times when I bump into strangers they know stories of me and attack or bully me as a result. When I point out this is bullying and abusive behavior, they make fun of me.

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Since the enactment of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, an estimated 800,000 to 900,000 Africans have immigrated to the US, accounting for just 3.3% of total immigration. Although Black History Month observances typically focus on native Black Americans whose ancestors came to the US by means of the Atlantic slave trade — and Africans can be of any race — I’m never the less using the opportunity to shed light on the contributions of more recent African immigrants in Los Angeles. For this entry of the No Enclave series, the focus are Ghanaian-Angelenos.

GHANA

The Republic of Ghana is located along the Gulf of Guinea and Atlantic Ocean, in West Africa. At 238,535 km², it’s a bit smaller than Michigan and a bit larger than Minnesota. Its multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic population is about 27 million. Being the first African nation south of the Sahara to achieve independence, its long enjoyed relative stability and a fairly strong economy. With a metro population of roughly 4 million, Accra is both the country’s capital and most populous city (and the thirteenth-most in Africa).

Archaeological evidence suggests that what’s now Ghana has been inhabited as early as 3,000 to 4,000 years ago. Around the 11th Century, the Akans are believed to have migrated to the Ghana’s coast from the Sahara and Sahel regions to the north and east. Over the centuries which followed, numerous kingdoms and empires arose including those of the Ashanti, the Akwamu, the Bonoman, the Dagbon, the Denkyira, and the Mankessim.

The Portuguese arrived in 1471 and established trade with the Akan, primarily of gold, guns, knives, beads, mirrors, rum and slaves. They were soon followed by other eager Colonial powers hoping to exploit the region, including the Dutch, Swedish, Danish, Norwegians, Prussian, and British — the latter of whom established a colony they unambiguously named Gold Coast in 1867.

After nearly a century of colonization, Ghana won independence from the British Empire on 6 March 1957. The newly free nation’s first prime minister and president was Socialist leader Kwame Nkrumah. Nkrumah was born in Nkroful in 1909. He came to the US in 1935 to pursue his education, in time to experience and find inspiration in the Harlem Renaissance and Trotskyism.

The first African nation to gain independence from Britain had a promising, if occasionally shaky start. The Pan-Africanist Nkrumah faced difficulty in de-escalating the intertribal tensions inflamed during British colonialism. Ultimately, however, it was the military which seized control of the government, staging a coup in 1966 whilst NKurmah was on a state visit to North Vietnam and China. The sad, if predictable, back-and-forth between civilian governments and military rule characterized the decades which followed until 1992, when the multi-party system was reinstated and has remained in place since.

GHANIAN AMERICANS

The first people to come to the US from what’s now Ghana did so as slaves. The Ganga people in particular were settled heavily along the coastal plain and islands of Georgia and South Carolina, where they influenced the development of those states’ Gullah culture.

Portrait of Paul Cuffee (by Chester Harding (1792 – 1866)) states’ Gullah culture. Other Ghanaians were sent to plantations in Virginia and Florida.

One early, prominent Ghanaian-American was businessman and sea captain Paul Cuffee, born in 1759 to an Aquinnah Wampanoag mother and an Asante father in the British colony of Massachusetts. He became a prominent Quaker and abolitionist who helped resettle freed slaves in the African colony of Sierra Leone.

Small but significant numbers of Ghanaians came to the US as students in the 1950s and ‘60s. Ghanian-Americans are a highly educated group, with some 48.9% holding college diplomas (compared to 23.1% of the population as a whole). In the 1980s and ‘90s, some Ghanaians permanently resettled in the US, leaving behind instability in search of opportunity. As of the 2010 census, there were 91,322 Ghanian-Americans counted, most of whom lived in the metro areas of (in descending order of population) Atlanta, Chicago, Detroit, Washington, DC, New York City, Newark, Providence, Worcester, Denver, and Columbus. Although California is home to the largest number of African immigrants in the US, Ghanaians have tended to eschew enclaves for settling in the suburbs, thereby reducing their visibility.

GHANAIAN CUISINE

The most obvious sign of Ghanians’ presence in Southern California is in the presence of a small number of Ghanaian restaurants. The first Ghanaian restaurant in Los Angeles may’ve been Nana and Naa International Enterprise, a business which sold both Ghanaian and Belizean dishes in Inglewood until its closing in 2009.

Image: Vibe Ghana

Nowadays there’s another restaurant serving Ghanaian food in Inglewood, Airport Royal Cuisine. Although no mention of Ghana is made on the restaurant’s website, the menu features recognizably Ghanaian dishes like fufu, kelewele, and waakye, and mention is made of Nana Yeboah (Yeboah is a Ghanaian name) — who I wonder whether or not is the Nana of the no-longer-extant Nana and Naa. Airport Royal Cuisine is served by Metro‘s 117 Line. The Inland Empire town of Temecula is home to a more Ghanaian catering service, known as Haija’s Ghanaian Cuisine.

Ghanaian Cuisine resembles the broader Cuisine of West Africa whilst encompassing many regional and ethnic variations. Most Ghanaian dishes are organized around a starch, a spicy stew or sauce, and a source of protein. Common plant ingredients include beans, cassava, eggplants, maize, mallow, millet, okra, onions, palm nuts, peanuts, plantains, pumpkin seeds, spinach, sorghum, taro, tomatoes, and yams. Common maize-based dishes include akple, kenkey, fonfom, and tou zaafi (also made from millet). Common rice-based dishes include waakye, omo tou, jollof rice, and fried rice. Common cassava-based dishes include konkonte, fufu (also made from plantain and/or yam), gari, attiéké, and plakali. Common bean-based dishes include red red and tubaani. Common yam-based dishes include ampesie, etor (also made from plantains), mpotompoto, and yam fufu. Common seasonings and spices include basil, bay leaves, chiles, curry, garlic, ginger, nutmeg, prekese, sumbala, and thyme. Commonly eaten animals include chickens, cows, crabs, ducks, fish, goats, grubs, octopuses, oysters, periwinkles, pigs, sheep, shrimps, snails, and turkeys. Popular beverages include asaana, gin, bisaab/sorrel, toose, lamujee, iced kenkey, palm wine, coconut juice, cocoa drinks, fruit juice, soda, soy milk, pitoo, and tea.

GHANAIAN FILM

Mobile Cinema van in Ghana early 1950s (Image: CFU)

Ghanaian Cinema got its start under the British, who screened instructional and propaganda films with mobile units and built cinemas which showed foreign productions. The British formed the Gold Coast Film Unit in 1948. Shortly after independence, the Ghana Film Industry Corporation (GFIC) was established in 1957, followed by GBC TV in 1965. Ghanaian Cinema got of to an early start, with films like Sam Aryeetey’s No Tears for Ananse (1968), Egbert Adjesu’s I Told You So (1970), and Bernard Odidja’s Do Your Own Thing (1971). However, their relative success led to Ghanaian-European co-productions which were costly failures and resulted in the film industry GFIC opting to produce cheap newsreels and short documentaries.

The critical success of Kwaw Paintsil Ansah’s Love Brewed in the African Pot (1981) brought on something of a mid-1980s Ghanaian Cinema revival, exemplified by films like Ato Yanney’s His Majesty’s Sergeant (1984), King Ampaw’s Kukurantumi: The Road to Accra (1983) and Juju (1986), and Ansah’s Heritage… Africa (1988). The rise of home video, VHS, and VCDs were democratizing for filmmaking, if detrimental to the pre-existing film industry and arguably, artistic quality. Following the lead of Nollywood, low budget Ghanaian commercial cinema came to be collectively known as Ghallywood (although Twi commercial is sometimes differentiated as “Kumawood”). Cheap CGI effects have further widened the gap between art films and commercial films, e.g. two recent Kumawood efforts — 2016 (2010) and Obonsam Besu (2011).

In recent years, some Ghanaian talent has defected to Hollywood, but Ghana’s prolificacy seems hardly affected. This year’s Pan-African Film Festival in Los Angeles is showcasing several recent Ghanaian productions, including Children of the Mountain, Legacy Alive, Like Cotton Twines, Nakom, No Time to Die, and Rebecca.

Los Angeles has also been home at one time or another to several actors of Ghanaian descent, including Boris Kodjoe, Jaye Davidson, Kwesi Boakye, Nana Gbewonyo, Sam Richardson, Sam Sarpong, Senyo Amoaku, and Sufe Bradshaw. Filmmaker Leila Afua Djansi, after beginning her career in Ghana, has since relocated to Los Angeles.

GHANAIAN MUSIC

Ghanaian Music encompasses both traditional and modern styles although the most widely recognized genre internationally is Highlife. Traditional Ghanaian music includes the folk customs of Ghana’s many ethnicities but is broadly divided into Northern Ghanaian and Coastal Ghanaian music. Northern Ghanaian music is related to other Sahelian traditions whereas coastal Ghanaian music is closely associated with various local social functions.

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Guitars and brass instruments were introduced in the colonial period and the fusion of various elements came to be known as Highlife, which by the 1930s had spread to neighboring Sierra Leone, Liberia, Gambia, and elsewhere in West Africa. Later, Caribbean music, jazz, rock, and other genres were absorbed by Highlife, which by the 1970s enjoyed a measure of popularity in both New York City and London. In the 1990s, a hip-hop influence known as Hiplife arose, which was followed, more recently, by so-called GH Rap.

Los Angeles has surprising ties to Ghanaian music, in large part due to the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). That school hired Mampong-born ethnomusicologist and composer Joseph Hanson Kwabena Nketia in 1963. In 1966, visiting lecturers Robert Ansane Ayitee and Robert Osei Bonsu were hired by the school to teach the class, Music and Dance of Ghana. After them, Kwasi Badu, who’d previously headed the National Dance Ensemble of Ghana, remained with the school until 1974. From 1976 until 2014, Anyako-born Kobla Ladzekpo was with the school.

Ladzekpo and his wife, Dzidzorgbe Beatrice Lawluvi, also formed the Zadonu Music & Dance Company. The Ladzekpo family have annually produced a life performance called The Africans Are Coming. Yeko Ladzekpo-Cole has taught dance and music at various schools. Kobla Ladzekpo was also co-director of the CalArts‘ Music of West Africa Ensemble until he retired in 2007 — his brother Alfred Ladzekpo stayed on until 2011.

OTHER GHANAIAN ANGELENOS

Several other prominent figures of Ghanaian descent have at one time or another called Los Angeles home. American Football player Larry Asante was born in Compton in 1988. In 1997, Accra-born bioengineer Kwabena Adu Boahen received a PhD in computation and neural systems from CalTech. Accra-born Emmanuel Agyenim “Ema” Boateng moved to the US in 2009 to attend school in Carpinteria and currently plays for Los Angeles Galaxy. He previously played at the University of California, Santa Barbara, the soccer team which had previously included another Ghanaian, Eric Frimpong (currently in prison on a rape charge for which many assert he was unfairly convicted). Los Angeles is also home to a Ghanaian style blogger known simply as “Enyi K” except, apparently, when she’s known as “stylemanship.”

GHANAIAN-LOS ANGELES ORGANIZATIONS

There are several organizations serving Los Angeles’s Ghanaian-American community. The Awutu-Effutu and Friends Association was founded in 1994. The Ghana Association of Southern California was established in 1997. The Ghanaian Ministers’ Association Of Southern California was established in Hyde Park in 2010. Riverside is home to the Presbyterian Church of Ghana Southern California.

GHANAIAN OBSERVANCES AND HOLIDAYS

Ghana’s Independence Day is celebrated on 6 March and is an occasion marked by many Ghanaians in Southern California and administered by several organization. There are ate least two events marking Ghana’s 60th Independence Day this year — neither taking place on the actual day. The Ghana Association of Southern California is hosting a banquet, Ghana @ 60, in Garden Grove on the 4th of March ($25 in advance, $30 at the door). Silver Lake club Los Globos is hosting the Ghana 60th Independence Party on the 5th of March, $10 pre-sale.

Finally, Homowo is a festival celebrated by Ghana’s Ga-Adangbe people, and takes place in May. It’s annually celebrated in Southern California in an event organized by the Ga-Dangbe Association of California.

Eric Brightwell is an adventurer, writer, rambler, explorer, cartographer, and guerrilla gardener who is always seeking writing, speaking, traveling, and art opportunities — or salaried work. He is not interested in generating advertorials, clickbait, listicles, or other 21st century variations of spam. Brightwell has written for Angels Walk LA, Amoeblog, Boom: A Journal of California, diaCRITICS, Hidden Los Angeles, and KCET Departures. His art has been featured by the American Institute of Architects, the Architecture & Design Museum, the Craft & Folk Art Museum, Form Follows Function, Los Angeles County Store, the book Sidewalking, Skid Row Housing Trust, and 1650 Gallery. Brightwell has been featured as subject in The Los Angeles Times, Huffington Post, Los Angeles Magazine, LAist, Eastsider LA, Boing Boing, Los Angeles, I’m Yours, and on Notebook on Cities and Culture. He has been a guest speaker on KCRW‘s Which Way, LA? and at Emerson College. Art prints of Brightwell’s maps are available from 1650 Gallery and on various products from Cal31. He is currently writing a book about Los Angeles and you can follow him on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

Click here to offer financial support and thank you!

No Enclave — Ghanaian Los Angeles Since the enactment of the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, an estimated 800,000 to 900,000 Africans have immigrated to the US, accounting for just 3.3% of total immigration.

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Flags Quotes

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• A lot of folks are still demanding more evidence before they actually consider Iraq a threat. For example, France wants more evidence. And you know I’m thinking, the last time France wanted more evidence they rolled right through Paris with the German flag. – David Letterman • A thoughtful mind, when it sees a nation’s flag, sees not the flag, but the nation itself. – Henry Ward Beecher • A thoughtful mind, when it sees a Nation’s flag, sees not the flag only, but the Nation itself; and whatever may be its symbols, its insignia, he reads chiefly in the flag the Government, the principles, the truths, the history which belongs to the Nation that sets it forth. – Henry Ward Beecher • After I left D.C. to join Black Flag, I felt I was in a band. – Henry Rollins • America has an almost obscene infatuation with itself. Has there ever been a big, powerful country that is as patriotic as America? And patriotic in the tinniest way, with so much flag waving? You’d really think we were some poor little republic, and that if one person lost his religion for one hour, the whole thing would crumble. America is the real religion in this country. – Norman Mailer • America is the only country in the world where you can burn the flag but can’t tear the tag off the mattress. – Jackie Mason • And the word is capitalism. We are too mealy-mouthed. We fear the word capitalism is unpopular. So we talk about the free enterprise system and run to cover in the folds of the flag and talk about the American Way of Life. – Eric Johnston • And when we view a flag, which to the eye is beautiful, and to contemplate its rise and origin inspires a sensation of sublime delight, our national honor must unite with our interests to prevent injury to the one, or insult to the other. – Thomas Paine • Any power must be an enemy of mankind which enslaves the individual by power and by force, whether it arises under the Fascist or the Communist flag. All that is valuable in human society depends upon the opportunity for development accorded to the individual. – Albert Einstein • As Conservatives, We Don’t Care About The Color of Your Skin, We Care About The Color of Our Flag – Allen West • As long as I live, I will never forget that day 21 years ago when I raised my hand and took the oath of citizenship. Do you know how proud I was? I was so proud that I walked around with an American flag around my shoulders all day long. – Arnold Schwarzenegger • As National Socialists we see our program in our flag. In the red we see the social idea of the movement. – Adolf Hitler • Ashcroft vowed to] spare no effort to preserve the rights of all our citizens to pledge allegiance to the American flag. – John Ashcroft • At least in my country, we have come to accept the flags burning, but what we cannot accept is violence, burning of embassies and intimidations, and there is no excuse for that. – Daniel Fried

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'flag', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_flag').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_flag img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Bastard Freedom waves Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves. – Thomas Moore • Behold a republic standing erect while empires all around are bowed beneath the weight of their own armaments – a republic whose flag is loved while other flags are only feared. – William Jennings Bryan • But didn’t you say you were satisfied with your life?” “Word games,” I dismissed. “Every army needs a flag. – Haruki Murakami • By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • By the way, I don’t mean to pick nits here, but Obama has just ordered the flag at half-mast for 10 days for Mandela. He did not order the flag at half-mast at all for Lady Thatcher. – Rush Limbaugh • Call it ‘nationalism’ when you affix a flag to your car, and leave the word ‘patriotism’ for your efforts to make this country a kinder, more egalitarian place, and one that is less dangerous to the rest of the world. – Barbara Ehrenreich • Can you imagine what Bush would say if someone like Hugo Chavez asked him for a little piece of land to install a military base, and he only wanted to plant a Venezuelan flag there?- Jose Saramago • Canadians are fond of a good disaster, especially if it has ice, water, or snow in it. You thought the national flag was about a leaf, didn’t you? Look harder. It’s where someone got axed in the snow. – Margaret Atwood • Democratic Rep. Charles Schumer of New York made a plea to Livingston, the incoming speaker. These new hearings, these new subpoenas wave a red flag that common sense and common wisdom are not welcome here, .. Mr. Livingston, this may be the first and most important task you will ever face as speaker. Lead us out of this abyss. – Charles Schumer • Donald Trump appears to be searching for an enemy. Is it flag burners, recounts, the press, the popular vote? Trump has gone after them all at times, using wild experience theories even as president-elect to do it. – Chuck Todd • Emblem: the carapace of the great crowned snail is painted with all the flags of the United Nations. – Mason Cooley • Even if only one guerilla cub survives the prolonged struggle, I am confident that he will raise the flag of Palestine overJerusalem… Jerusalem is destined to be the eternal capital of our sovereign, independent Palestinian state under the P.L.O. leadership. – Yasser Arafat • Even if the flag burning amendment does become law, the larger problem will remain of how to respectfully dispose of older, tattered flags. Well, fortunately the U.S. official Flag Code has a suggestion about this. “The flag, when it is in such a condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem of display, should be destroyed in a dignified way, preferably by burning.” Owwwwcchh. In response, the House Republicans are calling for tattered flags to be kept alive via a feeding tube. – Jon Stewart • Every man that tried to destroy the Government, every man that shot at the holy flag in heaven, every man that starved our soldiers… every man that wanted to burn the negro, every one that wanted to scatter yellow fever in the North, every man that opposed human liberty, that regarded the auction-block as an altar and the howling of the bloodhound as the music of the Union, every man who wept over the corpse of slavery, that thought lashes on the naked back were a legal tender for labour performed, every one willing to rob a mother of her child – every solitary one was a Democrat. – Robert Green Ingersoll • Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. – H. L. Mencken • Every time a colony wants independence, the questions on the agenda are: a) how do you get the imperialists out, and b) what kind of society do you build? There are usually the bourgeois nationalists who say, ‘Let’s just change the flag and keep everything as it was.’ Then there are the revolutionaries who say, ‘Let’s change the property laws.’ It’s always a critical moment. – Ken Loach • Every time I hit a shot, I feel like I am shaking hands with the flag stick. – Moe Norman • Everything becomes agitated. Ideas quick-march into motion like battalions of a grand army to its legendary fighting ground, and the battle rages. Memories charge in, bright flags on high; the cavalry of metaphor deploys with a magnificent gallop; the artillery of logic rushes up with clattering wagons and cartridges; on imagination’s orders, sharpshooters sight and fire; forms and shapes and characters rear up; the paper is spread with ink – for the nightly labor begins and ends with torrents of this black water, as a battle opens and concludes with black powder.- Honore de Balzac • Fascism will come to America wrapped in a flag. – Sinclair Lewis • Flag desecration is not a constitutional issue for the courts. It is a political one that belongs to the people. – Larry Craig • Flag of the free heart’s hope and home! By angel hands to valour given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome; And all thy hues were born in heaven. – Joseph Rodman Drake • Flags are bits of colored cloth used first to shrinkwrap people’s brains and then as ceremonial shrouds to bury the dead. – Arundhati Roy • For black folks, the Confederate flag represents the same thing that the Nazi flag represents to the Jews. There is absolutely no difference when we look at it. Now, white folks try to explain it away like, ‘Oh, it’s OK.’ But when you’re black, it is not OK. It represents oppression and murder. – Ken Page • For me, I’m just trying to be the best at what I do. I’ll wave an Asian American flag if I get that opportunity. I’m not hiding or trying to discredit my background or anything, I just haven’t had the opportunity. – Chad Hugo • Ford used to come to work in a big car with two Admiral’s flags, on each side of the car. His assistant would be there with his accordion, playing, Hail to the Chief. – Richard Widmark • Getting that audience approval is always a question mark, and it’s always that flag that flutters in front of you. – William Shatner • Growth at an exceptional rate is a red flag in banking. It is hard enough to manage an ordinary bank; to control a sprouting weed is well-nigh impossible. If loans are expanding too quickly, the lending officers have probably been saying ‘yes’ too frequently. – James Grant • Haul up the flag, you mourners, Not half-mast but all the way; The funeral is done and disbanded; The devil’s had the final say. – Karl Shapiro • Have not I myself known five hundred living soldiers sabred into crows’ meat for a piece of glazed cotton, which they call their flag; which had you sold it at any market-cross, would not have brought above three groschen? – Thomas Carlyle • He is a poor patriot whose patriotism does not enable him to understand how all men everywhere feel about their altars and their hearthstones, their flag and their fatherland. – Harry Emerson Fosdick • I always carried a small American flag red white and blue with me so people would know I was from America. – George Foreman • I am not the flag: not at all. I am but its shadow. – Franklin Knight Lane • I believe in America. I’m one of those silly flag wavers. – Paul Prudhomme • I believe our flag is more than just cloth and ink. It is a universally recognized symbol that stands for liberty, and freedom. It is the history of our nation, and it’s marked by the blood of those who died defending it. – John Thune • I believe that movements to suppress wrongs can be carried out under the protection of our flag. – Mother Jones • I came to the resolve that the attempt was not only worth trying, but should be tried in the very near future if we wanted at all to keep our flag flying; for I was sure as of my own existence that if another decade was allowed to pass without an endeavour of some kind or another to shake off an unjust yoke, the Irish people would sink into lethargy from which it would be impossible for any patriot . . . to arouse them . . . – James Stephens • I can train a monkey to wave an American flag. That does not make the monkey patriotic. – Scott Ritter • I can’t fly a flag for monogamy or whatever the opposite is; it depends on the person and on the situation. – Sting • I consider that 9/11 was the day when war was started against my own work and against myself. Even though we are not sure of the links, Iraq was one of the countries that did not lower its flags in mourning on 9/11. – Adam Michnik • I don’t judge others. I say if you feel good with what you’re doing, let your freak flag fly. – Sarah Jessica Parker • I don’t want the news to be patriotic. I don’t want to see flags on the lapels of the anchors. I don’t want any of that. – Aaron McGruder • I expect the Republicans will enjoy a large bounce out of their convention. They’re here wrapping themselves in the 9/11 flag, which I think is inappropriate in many ways, but it’s their choice. – Harold Ford, Jr. • I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me. – H. P. Lovecraft • I feel like I’m waving the flag for musicianship, trying to bring back bands that can play. – Jonathan Davis • I feel there should have been some recognition of the Spice Girls at this year’s 25th anniversary. We flew the flag for Britain around the globe in the 1990s and we achieved a hell of a lot. – Melanie Chisholm • I had an encyclopedia with a list of flags in the back, so I would look at all these flags of China and Liberia and England and Denmark and whatever, and I learned all the different flags and I tried to imagine what it would be like to be voyaging on some of these ships. – George R. R. Martin • I have a great respect for the flag, (but) if the government passed a law saying that I had to pledge allegiance to the flag, I don’t think I would do it. I’ve always felt that I lived in a country…where if I wanted to worship God as a Baptist, I could do so. If I were an atheist, I could be one. If I wanted to be a Catholic but was born a Jew, there’s no condemnation…from a government authority. – Jimmy Carter • I intend to talk about race during this election in the South because the Republicans have been talking about it since 1968 in order to divide us. And I’m going to bring us together. Because you know what? You know what? White folks in the South who drive pickup trucks with Confederate flag decals in the back ought to be voting with us and not them, because their kids don’t have health insurance either and their kids need better schools too. – Howard Dean • I learned this a long time ago. If you call a guy into your office and shut the door, if there’s media around, it sends up a red flag. I never wanted to embarrass a player. – Jim Leyland • I look for the entrepreneur to capture my attention. If you don’t come out with a great presentation, you’re dead. That’s a big red flag. – Robert Herjavec • I mean Black Flag happened. I was lucky. I don’t think I could have put together something with one percent of that oomph on my own. – Henry Rollins • I pledge allegiance to the Christian flag, and to the Savior, for whose Kingdom it stands, one Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again, with life and liberty for all who believe. – Dan Quayle • I prefer a man who will burn the flag and then wrap himself in the constitution to a man who will burn the constitution and then wrap himself in the flag. – Craig Washington • I savored my time on top of the podium by watching the American flag rise up out of the crowd as the anthem played, thinking about how every single second of training I’ve done was for this minute and how many people played a role in my achievement. – Hannah Kearney • I stand fearlessly for small dogs, the American Flag, motherhood and the Bible. That’s why people love me. – Art Linkletter • I still want to be the candidate for guys with Confederate flags in their pickup trucks.- Howard Dean • I think love is blind. I hate to use that cliched statement, but people, when they love somebody, they seem to be able to somehow to put aside red flags. – Eric Close • I would warn Orlando that you’re right in the way of some serious hurricanes, and I don’t think I’d be waving those flags [gay pride flags] in God’s face if I were you, This is not a message of hate , this is a message of redemption. But a condition like this will bring about the destruction of your nation. It’ll bring about terrorist bombs; it’ll bring earthquakes, tornadoes, and possibly a meteor. – Pat Robertson • I wrote the script of Patton. I had this very bizarre opening where he stands up in front of an American flag and gives this speech. Ultimately, I was fired. When the script was done, they hired another writer and that script was forgotten. – Francis Ford Coppola • I’d buy myself a cabin on the beach, I’d put some glue in my navel, and I’d stick a flag in there. Then I’d wait to see which way the wind was blowing. – Albert Camus • If a jerk burns the flag, America is not threatened, democracy is not under siege, freedom is not at risk. – Gary Ackerman • If I fall, pick up the flag, kiss it, and keep on going. – Omar Torrijos • If one, then, asks me the meaning of our flag, I say to him, It means just what Concord and Lexington meant, what Bunker Hill meant; it means the whole glorious Revolutionary War, which was, in short, the rising up of a valiant young people against an old tyranny, to establish the most momentous doctrine that the world had ever known – the right of men to their own selves and to their liberties. – Henry Ward Beecher • If the flag of an armed enemy of the U.S. is allowed to fly over government buildings, then it implies that slavery, or at least the threat of slavery, is sanctioned by that government and can still legally exist. – Amiri Baraka • If the test of patriotism comes only by reflexively falling into lockstep behind the leader whenever the flag is waved, then what we have is a formula for dictatorship, not democracy… But the American way is to criticize and debate openly, not to accept unthinkingly the doings of government officials of this or any other country. – Michael Parenti • If you buy the flag it’s yours to burn. – Jesse Ventura • If you start studying history closer, you’ll find that most all wars are based on false flag operations to get people – to convince the people that they’re under attack in some way so that they will support the wars. – Jesse Ventura • If you want a symbolic gesture, don’t burn the flag, wash it. – Norman Thomas • If you wave a flag, make it an American Flag. – Antonio Villaraigosa • I’m about as far from being a flag-waver – you won’t find any American flag pins in my drawer – as someone can be. – Tom Peters • I’m beginning to wonder if the symbol of the United States pretty soon isn’t going to be an ambassador with a flag under his arm climbing into an escape helicopter. – Ronald Reagan • Im in love with red. I think its such a passionate color. Every flag of every country pretty much has red it it. Its power, theres no fence sitting with red. Either you love it or you dont. I think its blood and strength and life. I do love red. I love all colors. Great shades of blue, you find them in nature. Theyre all magic. – Bryan Batt • I’m just always learning lines. I’ve learned to flag the really crucial scenes, and I start figuring them out and committing them to memory as soon as I get them. – Claire Danes • I’m proud of the U.S.A. We’ve done some amazing things. To wear our flag in the Olympics is an honor. – Shaun White • In prosperous times I have sometimes felt my fancy and powers of language flag, but adversity is to me at least a tonic and bracer. – Walter Scott • In the middle of the cavernous cargo hold was a simple, aluminum coffin with a small American flag draped over it. We were bringing another American soldier, just killed, home to his family and final resting place. The starkness of his coffin in the center of the hold, the silence except for the din of the engines, was a real time cold reminder of the consequences of decisions for which we Senators share responsibility. – John F. Kerry • In uniform patriotism can salute one flag only, embrace but the first circle of life – one’s own land and tribe. In war that is necessary, in peace it is not enough. – Bill Moyers • Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, And black despair succeeds brown study. – William Congreve • Israel’s capital will never again be a divided city, a city with a wall at its center, a city in which two flags fly. This city, will, in its entirety, absorb immigrants, welcome pilgrims and be the eternal capital of Israel forever. – Yitzhak Shamir • It is a dangerous day when we can take the cross out of the church more easily than the flag. No wonder it is hard for seekers to find God nowadays. – Shane Claiborne • It is said that peace is the basic tenet of all religion. Yet it is in the name of religion that there has been so much disturbance, bloodshed and persecution. It is indeed a pity that even at the close of the twentieth century we’ve had to witness such atrocities because of religion. Flying the flag of religion has always proved the easiest way to crush to nothingness human beings as well as the spirit of humanity. – Taslima Nasrin • It is said that the Queen has come to love the Commonwealth, partly because it supplies her with regular cheering crowds of flag-waving picaninnies; and one can imagine that Blair, twice victor abroad but enmired at home, is similarly seduced by foreign politeness. They say he is shortly off to the Congo. No doubt the AK47s will fall silent, and the pangas will stop their hacking of human flesh, and the tribal warriors will all break out in Watermelon smiles to see the big white chief touch down in his big white British taxpayer-funded bird. – Boris Johnson • It is the will of the American people that we have a right to protect our flag and this can only be accomplished by passing a Constitutional amendment. – Adrian Cronauer • I’ve got one Aussie flag on my car. It would be nice to have two. – Tom Lehman • Japanese-owned cargo ship Tsimtsum, flying Panamanian flag, sank July 2nd, 1977, in Pacific, four days out of Manila. Am in lifeboat. Pi Patel my name. Have some food, some water, but Bengal tiger a serious problem. Please advise family in Winnepeg, Canada. Any help very much appreciated. Thank you. – Yann Martel • Laws protecting the United States flag do not cut away at the freedom of speech guaranteed in the First Amendment… Congress made this position clear upon passage of the Flag Protection Act of 1989, which prohibited desecration of the flag. – Larry Craig • Let it be borne on the flag under which we rally in every exigency, that we have one country, one constitution, one destiny. – Daniel Webster • Liberals hate America, they hate “flag-wavers”, they hate abortion opponents, they hate all religions except Islam (post 9/11). Even Islamic terrorists don’t hate America like liberals do. They don’t have the energy. If they had that much energy, they’d have indoor plumbing by now. – Ann Coulter • Life is not fair. And you have to choose your battles, because there are some that you cannot win. If you’re passionate about something, then you should pick up your flag and run with it.- Bette Midler • Long live Germany. Long live Austria. Long live Argentina. These are the countries with which I have been most closely associated and I shall not forget them. I had to obey the rules of war and my flag. I am ready. – Adolf Eichmann • Men do not fight for flag or country, for the Marine Corps or glory or any other abstraction. They fight for one another. And if you came through this ordeal, you would age with dignity. – William Manchester • Most people are willing to take the Sermon on the Mount as a flag to sail under, but few will use it as a rudder by which to steer. – Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. • My dad has totally taken my Cat Stevens T-shirt, but it’s OK; I have his Black Flag one, and that’s amazing. – Zoe Kravitz • My daughter, who goes to Stuyvesant High School only blocks from the World Trade Center, thinks we should fly an American flag out our window. Definitely not, I say: The flag stands for jingoism and vengeance and war. – Katha Pollitt • My goal is people associate November with COPD awareness month as much as they notice October with breast cancer and pink. That’d be a great thing if it happened. The fact that COPD kills more people than breast cancer and diabetes put together should raise some red flags. – Danica Patrick • My major aim in writing is to set out flags and issue wake-up calls. – James Broughton • My version, of course, is not this flag-waving, let’s all get on the Jesus train and ride out of hell. I’m not that kind of guy. It’s an embrace that life is good, worth living and yeah, it’s not easy, but there are more pluses than minuses. – Billy Corgan • Nationalism is just racism with a flag. – Peter Joseph • Not another flag has such an errand, carrying everywhere, the world around, such hope for freedom such glorious tidings. – Henry Ward Beecher • Nowhere else in history has there ever been a flag that stands for the right to burn itself. This is the fractal of our flag. It stands for the right to destroy itself. – Ken Kesey • Obama’s a nice person, he’s very articulate this is what’s been used against him, but he couldn’t sell watermelons if it, you gave him the state troopers to flag down the traffic.- Dan Rather • Of all the names Polygamy went by (so as not to exasperate the Gentile population and even some of the wives of the members’ own bosoms any more than necessary) — such as Pluralism, Plural or Celestial Wedlock, the Principle, the Doctrine, the New Covenant and the Gospel Dispensation of the Meridian of Consummate Time — the latter was thought to be the least like waving a red flag in front of a bull. But as it was hard to remember and did not make instant or any other kind of sense, it was not much used. – Ardyth Kennelly • Of course, Mr. Hannity was outraged that any American would not cross her hand over her heart and repeat the hypocritical words, one nation. Whenever we come up on the Fourth of You Lie, I think of Frederick Douglas and his masterful oration, The meaning of the Fourth of July to the Negro. Pledge the flag? I think not! – Julianne Malveaux • Off with your hat, as the flag goes by! And let the heart have its say; you’re man enough for a tear in your eye that you will not wipe away. – Henry Cuyler Bunner • Oh, it’s home again and home again, America for me! I want a ship that’s westward bound to plough the rolling sea To the blessed land of Room Enough beyond the ocean bars, Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars. – Henry Van Dyke • Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light What so proudly we hailed as the twilight’s last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight O’er the ramplarts we watched were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave? – Francis Scott Key • On a royal birthday every house must fly a flag, or the owner would be dragged to a police station and be fined twenty-five rubles. – Mary Antin • On no further occasion present a flag or medal to an Indian. – Zebulon Pike • On the field of battle, the spoken word does not carry far enough; hence the institution of gongs and drums… banners and flags. Gongs and drums, banners and flags, are means whereby the ears and eyes of the host may be focused on one particular point. – Sun Tzu • On this question of principle, while actual suffering was yet afar off, they [the Colonies] raised their flag against a power to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome in the height of her glory is not to be compared,-a power which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England. – Daniel Webster • Ostentation is the signal flag of hypocrisy. – Edwin Hubbel Chapin • Our flag honors those who have fought to protect it, and is a reminder of the sacrifice of our nation’s founders and heroes. As the ultimate icon of America’s storied history, the Stars and Stripes represents the very best of this nation. – Joe Barton • Our flag is a proud flag, and it stands for liberty and civilization. Where it has once floated, there must be no return to tyranny. – Theodore Roosevelt • Our flag is not just one of many political points of view. Rather, the flag is a symbol of our national unity. – Adrian Cronauer • Our flag is read, white and blue, but our nation is a rainbown-red, yellow, brown, black and white – and we’re all precious in God’s sight. – Jesse Jackson • Our flag means all that our fathers meant in the Revolutionary War. It means all that the Declaration of Independence meant. It means justice. It means liberty. It means happiness…. Every color means liberty. Every thread means liberty. Every star and stripe means liberty. – Henry Ward Beecher • Our flag represents every American and it should not be hidden away as a result of property agreements. – Mike Fitzpatrick • Our great modern Republic. May those who seek the blessings of its institutions and the protection of its flag remember the obligations they impose. – Ulysses S. Grant • Our moneyed men have ruled us for the past thirty years. Under the flag of the slaveholder they hoped to destroy our liberty. – Denis Kearney • Patriotism consists not in waving the flag, but in striving that our country shall be righteous as well as strong.- James Bryce • Patriotism has become a mere national self assertion, a sentimentality of flag-cheering with no constructive duties. – H. G. Wells • Patriotism threatens free speech with death. It is infuriated by thoughtful hesitation, constructive criticism of our leaders and pleas for peace. It despises people of foreign birth. It has specifically blamed homosexuals, feminists and the American Civil Liberties Union. In other words, the American flag stands for intimidation, censorship, violence, bigotry, sexism, homophobia and shoving the Constitution through a paper shredder. Whom are we calling terrorists here? – Barbara Kingsolver • People from major labels were afraid to go to Black Flag gigs throughout most of the bands existence. They treated our gigs as something threatening. Im sure that it probably was. They probably had reasons to be scared. – Greg Ginn • Punishing desecration of the flag dilutes the very freedom that makes this emblem so revered. – William J. Brennan • Queen’s University flies the flag for the arts in Northern Ireland and beyond. – Liam Neeson • Red flag of the eating disorder: the muffin. Keep your eye on the ladies with the muffins… and sometimes I’ll just eat the muffin top. – Janeane Garofalo • Remember the hours after September 11th when we came together as one to answer the attack against our homeland. We drew strength when our firefighters ran upstairs and risked their lives so that others might live; when rescuers rushed into smoke and fire at the Pentagon; when the men and women of Flight 93 sacrificed themselves to save our nation’s Capitol; when flags were hanging from front porches all across America, and strangers became friends. It was the worst day we have ever seen, but it brought out the best in all of us. – John F. Kerry • Roger Ebert was the last mammoth alive who was holding the flag for real movies and moviemakers. – Werner Herzog • Saying you are a patriot does not make you one; wearing a flag pin does not in itself mean anything at all. – Viggo Mortensen • Since trade ignores national boundaries and the manufacturer insists on having the world as a market, the flag of his nation must follow him, and the doors of the nations which are closed against him must be battered down. Concessions obtained by financiers must be safeguarded by ministers of state, even if the sovereignty of unwilling nations be outraged in the process. Colonies must be obtained or planted, in order that no useful corner of the world may be overlooked or left unused. – Woodrow Wilson • So, friends, every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world. Work for nothing. Take all that you have and be poor. Love someone who does not deserve it. Denounce the government and embrace the flag. Hope to live in that free republic for which it stands. -Wendell Berry • SST was formed to put out the first Black Flag record. Basically, there wasn’t anyone else to do it. I felt that what I was doing with Black Flag was very worthwhile, and I wanted to get it out there. – Greg Ginn • Sure I wave the American flag. Do you know a better flag to wave? Sure I love my country with all her faults. I’m not ashamed of that, never have been, never will be. – John Wayne • Sure I wave the American flag. Do you know a better flag to wave?- John Wayne • That one flag encircles us with its folds today, the unrivaled object of our loyal love. – Benjamin Harrison • The American flag is the most recognized symbol of freedom and democracy in the world. – Virginia Foxx • The American flag is the symbol of our freedom, national pride and history. – Mike Fitzpatrick • The American flag represents all of us and all the values we hold sacred. – Adrian Cronauer • The American flag, Old Glory, standing tall and flying free over American soil for 228 years is the symbol of our beloved country. It is recognized from near and afar, and many lives have been lost defending it. – Jeff Miller • The Bible represents a fundamental guidepost for millions of people on the planet, in much the same way the Koran, Torah, and Pali Canon offer guidance to people of other religions. If you and I could dig up documentation that contradicted the holy stories of Islamic belief, Judaic belief, Buddhist belief, pagan belief, should we do that? Should we wave a flag and tell the Buddhists that the Buddha did not come from a lotus blossom? Or that Jesus was not born of a literal virgin birth? Those who truly understand their faiths understand the stories are metaphorical. – Dan Brown • The few took advantage of the ignorant many. They pretended to have received messages from the Unknown. They stood between the helpless multitude and the gods. They were the carriers of flags of truce. At the court of heaven they presented the cause of man, and upon the labor of the deceived they lived. – Robert Green Ingersoll • The flag is a symbol of the fact that man is still a herd animal. – Albert Einstein • The flag is the embodiment, not of sentiment, but of history. – Woodrow Wilson • The flag of racialism which has been hoisted in Wolverhampton is beginning to look like the one that fluttered 25 years ago over Dachau and Belsen. – Tony Benn • The flag of the United States has not been created by rhetorical sentences in declarations of independence and in bills of rights. It has been created by the experience of a great people, and nothing is written upon it that has not been written by their life. It is the embodiment, not of a sentiment, but of a history. – Woodrow Wilson • The flag of your nation – wave it! Begin to separate your nation from whatever covenant your forefathers must have had. Break the covenant of corruption/ stealing/ killing/ destruction/ idolatry – break it right now! – T. B. Joshua • The flag represents all the values and the liberties Americans have and enjoy everyday. – Bill Shuster • The flag still stands for freedom and they can’t take that away.- Lee Greenwood • The flag that was the symbol of slavery on the high seas for a long time was not the Confederate battle flag, it was sadly the Stars and Stripes. – Alan Keyes • The headline is the ‘ticket on the meat.’ Use it to flag down readers who are prospects for the kind of product you are advertising. – David Ogilvy • The less a statesman amounts to, the more he loves the flag. – Kin Hubbard • The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger’s troubled night depart, And the star of peace return. – Thomas Campbell • The Minutemen were seen as more of an art thing than Black Flag, although I didn’t see them that way. It confused people when we put out Saccharine Trust, too. – Greg Ginn • The mother condemned for a witch and burnt with dry wood, and her children gazing on;The hounded slave that flags in the race and leans by the fence, blowing and covered with sweat, The twinges that sting like needles his legs and neck, The murderous buckshot and the bullets, All these I feel or am. – Walt Whitman • The Palestinian state is within our grasp. Soon the Palestinian flag will fly on the walls, the minarets and the cathedrals of Jerusalem. – Yasser Arafat • The people are urged to be patriotic … by sacrificing their own children. Patriotism requires allegience to the flag, which means obedience and readiness to kill father, mother, brother, sister. – Emma Goldman • The Royal family to me are not England, and they are not the flag. – Steven Morrissey • The stuff that I got in trouble for, the casting for The Godfather or the flag scene in Patton, was the stuff that was remembered, and was considered the good work. – Francis Ford Coppola • The things that the flag stands for were created by the experiences of a great people. Everything that it stands for was written by their lives. The flag is the embodiment, not of sentiment, but of history. – Woodrow Wilson • The trouble with America is that when the dollar only earns 6 percent over here, then it gets restless and goes overseas to get 100 percent. Then the flag follows the dollar and the soldiers follow the flag. – Smedley Butler • The victory march will continue until the Palestinian flag flies in Jerusalem and in all of Palestine. – Yasser Arafat • The writer is delegated to declare and to celebrate man’s proven capacity for greatness of heart and spirit—for gallantry in defeat, for courage, compassion and love. In the endless war against weakness and despair, these are the bright rally flags of hope and of emulation. I hold that a writer who does not believe in the perfectibility of man has no dedication nor any membership in literature. – John Steinbeck • Then finally I said, ‘Okay, well, I want to know all the details. I want creative input. I want to be consulted. I want to know what they’re doing and who’s involved. And I want to see the space.’ So they took me to see it, and then I realized it was major! All these red flags on the Rue de Rivoli with my name on them right by the Louvre! – Kate Moss • There are some pop songs I hate but I can’t get them out of my head. Our songs also have the standard pop format: Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, solo, bad solo. All in all, I think we sound like The Knack and the Bay City Rollers being molested by Black Flag and Black Sabbath. – Kurt Cobain • There are those who wrap themselves in flags and blow the tinny trumpet of patriotism as a means of fooling the people. – George Galloway • There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn’t an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag…We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language…and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people. – Theodore Roosevelt • There is a strong tendency in the United States to rally round the flag and their troops, no matter how mistaken the war. – George McGovern • There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum. – Arthur C. Clarke • There is much more to being a patriot and a citizen than reciting the pledge or raising a flag. – Jesse Ventura • There is no flag large enough to cover the shame of killing innocent people. – Howard Zinn • There is no rule in the pink-triangle guide to coming out that you must wear a rainbow flag cap and organise a full band parade. – Beth Ditto • There’s a certain elitism that has crept into the attitudes of some in journalism, and it played out perfectly over the issue of these little [American flag] lapel pins. – Brit Hume • There’s a principle here and I’m hoping the court will uphold this principle so that we can finally go back and have every American want to stand up, face the flag, place their hand over their heart and pledge to one nation, indivisible, not divided by religion, with liberty and justice for all. – Michael Newdow • There’s an enduring American compulsion to be on the side of the angels. Expediency alone has never been an adequate American reason for doing anything. When actions are judged, they go before the bar of God, where Mom and the Flag closely flank His presence. – Jonathan Raban • There’s one beneficial effect of going to Moscow. You come home waving the American flag with all your might. – Mary Tyler Moore • This flag .. is raised not without costs, .. without the costs of having struggled for many years, without the costs of having lost so many lives in order to have a free and sovereign and good Afghanistan. – Hamid Karzai • To secure respect to a neutral flag requires a naval force organized and ready to vindicate it from insult or aggression. – George Washington • To survive in peace and harmony, united and strong, we must have one people, one nation, one flag. – Pauline Hanson • Tonight the American flag floats from yonder hill or Molly Stark sleeps a widow. – John Stark • Tony Stewart — Broke out a new chassis at Pocono Raceway last June and raced to the checkered flag for his first victory of 2003; has finished among the top 10 in all but two of his 10 career starts here; Turn one is probably the easiest of the three, but you’ve got the challenge of having to downshift in the middle of the corner, .. You go down the backstretch and into the tunnel turn and it’s basically one lane. – Tony Stewart • Tree of Liberty: A tree set up by the people, hung with flags and devices, and crowned with a cap of liberty. The Americans of the United States planted poplars and other trees during the war of independence, “as symbols of growing freedom.” The Jacobins in Paris planted their first tree of liberty in 1790. The symbols used in France to decorate their trees of liberty were tricoloured ribbons, circles to indicate unity, triangles to signify equality, and a cap of liberty. Trees of liberty were planted by the Italians in the revolution of 1848. – E. Cobham Brewer • Under this flag may our youth find new inspiration for loyalty to Canada; for a patriotism based not on any mean or narrow nationalism, but on the deep and equal pride that all Canadians will feel for every part of this good land. – Lester B. Pearson • Unfortunately a Constitutional amendment that would have empowered Congress to make desecration of the United States flag illegal failed to pass by one vote. – Kenny Marchant • United States, your banner wears Two emblems–one of fame; Alas! the other that it bears Reminds us of your shame. Your banner’s constellation types White freedom with its stars, But what’s the meaning of the stripes? They mean your negroes’ scars. – Thomas Campbell • Using a metaphor in front of a man as unimaginative as Ridcully was like a red flag to a bu… was like putting something very annoying in front of someone who was annoyed by it. – Terry Pratchett • War is the spectacular and bloody projection of our everyday living. We precipitate war out of our daily lives; and without a transformation in ourselves, there are bound to be national and racial antagonisms, the childish quarreling over ideologies, the multiplication of soldiers, the saluting of flags, and all the many brutalities that go to create organized murder. – Jiddu Krishnamurti • We Americans are the most lavish and showiest and most luxury loving people on the earth; and at our masthead we fly one true and honest symbol, the gaudiest flag the world has ever seen. – Mark Twain • We are raised to honor all the wrong explorers and discoverers thieves planting flags, murderers carrying crosses. Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams. – Peter S. Beagle • We are to regard existence as a raid or great adventure; it is to be judged, therefore, not by what calamities it encounters, but by what flag it follows and what high town it assaults. The most dangerous thing in the world is to be alive; one is always in danger of one’s life. But anyone who shrinks from that is a traitor to the great scheme and experiment of being. – Gilbert K. Chesterton • We cannot allow the American flag to be shot at anywhere on earth if we are to retain our respect and prestige – Barry Goldwater • We considered ourselves Jordanian until the Jews returned to Jerusalem. Then all of the sudden we were Palestinians – they removed the star from the Jordanian flag and all at once we had a Palestinian flag. – Walid Shoebat • We do not consecrate the flag by punishing its desecration, for in doing so, we dilute the freedom this cherished emblem represents. – William J. Brennan • We have but one flag, one country; let us stand together. We may differ in color, but not in sentiment. – Nathan Bedford Forrest • We have room in this country for but one flag, the Stars and Stripes! – Theodore Roosevelt • We have two American flags always: one for the rich and one for the poor. When the rich fly it means that things are under control; when the poor fly it means danger, revolution, anarchy. – Henry Miller • We identify the flag with almost everything we hold dear on earth, peace, security, liberty, our family, our friends, our home. . .But when we look at our flag and behold it emblazoned with all our rights we must remember that it is equally a symbol of our duties. Every glory that we associate with it is the result of duty done. – Calvin Coolidge • We join ourselves to no party that does not carry the flag and I keep step to the music of the Union. – Rufus Choate • Well, start waving and yelling, because it is the so-called Oxford comma and it is a lot more dangerous than its exclusive, ivory-tower moniker might suggest. There are people who embrace the Oxford comma and people who don’t, and I’ll just say this: never get between these people when drink has been taken. Oh, the Oxford comma. Here, in case you don’t know what it is yet, is the perennial example, as espoused by Harold Ross: “The flag is red, white, and blue.” So what do you think of it? Are you for or against it? Do you hover in between? – Lynne Truss • What does one plant who plants a tree? One plants the friend of sun and sky; One plants the flag of breezes free; The shaft of beauty towering high. – Henry Cuyler Bunner • What if the invasion forces will not leave our lands? What if the U.S. forces and others stay in our beloved lands? What if their companies and embassy headquarters will continue to exist with the American flags hoisted on them? Will you be silent? Will you overlook this? – Muqtada al Sadr • What I’m trying to do is to at least raise a flag to the blinding light of technology. – Godfrey Reggio • When a war ends, what does that look like exactly? do the cells in the body stop detonating themselves? does the orphanage stop screaming for its mother? when the sand in the desert has been melted down to glass and our reflection is not something we can stand to look at does the white flag make for a perfect blindfold? yesterday i was told a story about this little girl in Iraq, six-years-old, who cannot fall asleep because when she does she dreams of nothing but the day she watched her dog eat her neighbor’s corpse. if you told her war is over do you think she can sleep? – Andrea Gibson • When facism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the American flag. – Sinclair Lewis • When fascism comes to the United States it will be wrapped in the American flag and will claim the name of 100-percent Americanism – Sinclair Lewis • When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. – Joseph Rodman Drake • When Freedom from her mountain-height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light. Flag of the free heart’s hope and home! By angel hands to valour given! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom’s soil beneath our feet, And Freedom’s banner streaming o’er us? – Joseph Rodman Drake • When I see the American flag, I go, ‘Oh my God, you’re insulting me.’ – Janeane Garofalo • When I was in college there was a girls’ flag football league. The girls were extremely aggressive. – Lynn Swann • When somebody say no, it’s a red flag to a bull to me. – Duncan Roy • When the wheel was accepted as part of the national flag, it was surely implied that the spinning wheel would hum in every household. – Mahatma Gandhi • When you go to plant a flag on the visiting team’s field, it’s a form of taunting, .. What message are you sending when you spear it into the turf of your defeated opponent?. – Brad Davis • When you make love you’re using up energy; and afterwards you feel happy and don’t give a damn for anything. They can’t bear you to feel like that. They want you to be bursting with energy all the time. All this marching up and down and cheering and waving flags is simply sex gone sour. If you’re happy inside yourself, why should you get excited about Big Brother and the Three-Year Plans and the Two Minutes Hate and all the rest of their bloody rot? – George Orwell • While the rest of the country waves the flag of Americana, we understand we are not part of that. We don’t owe America anything – America owes us. – Al Sharpton • Words are some of the most powerful and important things I know….Language is the tool of love and the weapon of hatred. It’s the bright red warning flag of danger–and the stone foundation of diplomacy and peace. – Ani DiFranco • Worrying that banning flag desecration would inhibit free speech reveals a misunderstanding of the flag’s fundamental nature. – Adrian Cronauer • Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas; Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze! – Thomas Campbell • Yes, I’m a patriotic person. For these people who disgrace the American way and burn our flag and do all of these things… I say, don’t live here and disgrace my country. Go live in the Middle East and see how you like it. – Payne Stewart • Yonder are the Hessians. They were bought for seven pounds and tenpence a man. Are you worth more? Prove it. Tonight the American flag floats from yonder hill or Molly Stark sleeps a widow! – John Stark • You are the generation that will reach the sea and hoist the flag of Palestine over Tel Aviv. – Yasser Arafat • You are the makers of the flag and it is well that you glory in the making. – Franklin Knight Lane • You cannot have companies where many of the largest ones lose money indefinitely without someone finally waving the white flag, and IBM is the most recent example of that. – Kevin B. Rollins • You don’t defend national sovereignty with flags, cheap election rhetoric, and advertising campaigns. – Stephen Harper • You have to eat before you train. Otherwise, that really intense training, after about 40 minutes you start to flag. – Hugh Jackman • You the devil in drag. You can burn your cross, Well, I’ll burn your flag. – Ice Cube • You’re a grand old flag! You’re a high-flying flag, And forever in peace may you wave. You’re the emblem of the land I love, The home of the free and the brave. Ev’ry heart beats true ‘Neath the Red, White and Blue,’ Where there’s never a boast or brag. But should auld acquaintance be forgot, Keep your eye on the grand old flag. – George M. Cohan

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