#built-in comlink

[sw5w]

This is Tense!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:53:58

[saphronethaleph]

Offer accepted

Leia’s comlink chimed.

She yawned, stared at it for a moment, then two synapses connected and she snatched it up.

“I’m here,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“Leia,” Luke said. “I’m sorry for waking you-”

“Luke?” Leia asked, now almost entirely awake. “What happened?”

“...you’re probably not going to believe me if I tell you,” Luke replied. “Can you get the command team to the west side of the village as soon as possible?”

Leia held back a yawn, which was a struggle, and checked her chrono.

“Everyone should be asleep, it’s not even dawn,” she said. “Everyone from the command team who sleeps, anyway. I can do Threepio and Artoo, and myself on about… five hours of sleep? Maybe four?”

She paused, thinking. “Chewie might be awake, I honestly don’t know. Han almost certainly won’t be.”

There was a long pause, and Leia frowned.

“Luke?” she asked her brother.

“That’ll do,” Luke decided. “See you then.”

“All right, I’m here,” Leia told Luke, unnecessarily. “Han and Chewie were both asleep, so I got another commander in their stead… what’s this about?”

She stifled a yawn, and took a drink from some caf. “This had better be important.”

“Skywalker knows what he’s doing,” Commander Rex said.

“Yeah, you weren’t speaking to him last night,” Leia muttered, glancing at Luke. “I believe Luke knows what he’s doing, I’m not so sure that what he’s doing makes any kind of sense.”

“You might need to think again on that, Leia,” Luke said. “It turns out, it was surprisingly easy… I think we’re ready.”

He gestured, and Darth Vader stalked out of the pre-dawn gloom.

Leia nearly dropped her mug of caf, but the dark and imposing impact of the scene was immediately and drastically undercut when Darth Vader actually did drop his lightsaber.

“...what in the name of Padme Amidala are you doing here, Rex?” the Terror of the Galaxy asked, his vocoder apparently suffering some strain.

“Who would-” Rex began, his blaster covering the Dark Lord, then he dropped the weapon as well. “...General? You’re – you’re Darth Vader?”

“...yes?” Vader replied, looking down at himself as if he actually had to check. “I believe so?”

Then he did a double-take.

“What are you two doing here, exactly?” he asked, his helmet turned towards Artoo and Threepio. “Is this some kind of reunion? Am I going to see Snips come out from behind a tree? Is Obi-Wan going to appear?”

He sounded slightly frazzled. “Where is Hondo Ohnaka?”

“Father,” Luke said, his voice calm. “Please, allow me to explain as much of the situation as I know myself.”

“I’m not sure how to explain this situation,” Leia said. “What is going on?”

R2 beeped something that indicated that he knew exactly what was going on, and found it very amusing, thank you very much.

“Well, I don’t,” 3P0 said, with a sniff. “Why don’t you introduce everyone, you tin can?”

“Don’t worry, 3P0,” Luke told him. “None of us are in any immediate danger.”

Leia wasn’t sure she believed that.

“Oh, thank the maker!” C-3P0 sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Vader replied, crouching down to pick up his lightsaber.

“...okay, that bit I didn’t know,” Luke admitted. “But I’d better get started or we’ll be here all morning… I went to confront my father, and turn him away from the Dark Side.”

He glanced to his side. “I… don’t know if it’s worked, but I’d say it’s working at the moment.”

“How exactly did you pull that off?” Rex asked.

“I said that the Dark Side forced me to obey my master,” Vader intoned. “Then my son told me, quite passionately, that I was not a slave – that I was a person, and my name was Anakin Skywalker.”

His shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “He also asked me to come with him. As you can see, I chose to take up the offer.”

Vader let that stand for a moment, then pointed in succession. “That is Rex, formerly the commander of my personal legion in the Clone Wars. Those are the droids C-3P0, who I built on Tatooine, and R2-D2, who worked with me during the Clone Wars after a swap of C-3P0 for R2-D2 with my wife Padme Amidala. And that is… actually, I find myself unaware of your current personal situation. The only connection between us that I am aware of is that you are the daughter of one of my wife’s close friends, and that I should probably apologize to you at some point.”

Luke coughed, and R2 made a sort of beeping giggling noise.

C-3P0 still seemed to be in shock, which was fair enough, because so was Leia.

“Furthermore,” Vader went on. “Since I have defected, I will tell you the following. The Emperor is aware of your plans. He has an entire battle group ready to ambush your fleet. The shield protecting the Death Star is to be disguised by jamming. And an entire legion of the best troops the Empire has are waiting in ambush for any attempt on the shield generator.”

“So… what you’re saying is that our enemy has an overwhelming numbers advantage, an excellent tactical and strategic position, and they know we’re coming,” Rex said, having recovered his aplomb slightly and picked up his blaster. “And the only advantage we have is that we’ve got two Skywalker Jedi on our side.”

“I am still a Sith,” Vader replied. “Not a Jedi.”

“Still,” Rex protested. “Because… yeah, they’re karked.”

“This is the place?” Han asked.

“This is it,” Chewbacca agreed.

“Still can’t believe we’re going with this plan,” Han muttered. “Still can’t believe we’re doing what Darth Vader suggested.”

“I know,” Chewbacca noted. “You said.”

“I said because it’s true, fuzzball,” Han retorted.

He glanced around at the other commandos, then to either side of the draw they were in. It was a minor flaw in the deployment positions of the Imperial legion, a small blind valley through which troops could get close enough to attack by bypassing just a few Imperial guards… with a judicious mind trick from Luke, of course.

Not many troops, though. No heavy equipment. Just men and blasters, with two blaster cannon hauled up the draw.

“Stand by,” Leia said. “Who’s in position?”

“Team Besh, in position,” Rex reported, levelling one of the blaster cannon and being careful not to skyline himself.

“Team Aurak, ready,” Han said, as Chewie readied the other blaster cannon.

“Ten seconds,” Leia said, then activated her commlink.

A commlink set to Imperial scramble frequencies.

“Execute Alderaan,” she said, firmly. “Alderaan, Alderaan, Alderaan. Open fire!”

Rex opened fire, and so did the commandos on his side of the draw. His cannon shot hit the neck of an unsuspecting AT-AT, knocking it to the side and sending up a shower of sparks, and the commandos fired out a volley of shots at troopers and officers before ducking into cover.

At almost exactly the same time, Chewbacca and Aurek team opened fire as well. With different targets to aim for, Chewbacca elected to shoot out the knee of an AT-ST, and it fell over before exploding in a cloud of smoke.

A dozen or so stomtroopers fell in the fusillade of blaster fire, and then all the Rebels were behind cover as the Imperial battalions reacted.

Each had just taken fire from the direction of the other. Each had suffered casualties and taken hits.

And they’d just heard someone give a clear codeword. And when they looked in the direction of who could have been firing… all they saw were other Imperials.

Within seconds, blaster bolts were flying back and forth over the draw, as the Rebels began evacuating back down the way they’d come in. Leia flicked her comlink away from transmit mode, then nodded, and Han took out his own.

“They’re shooting,” he said.

“We’re far enough down the valley,” Rex pointed out. “We can run now, and we’ll need to – go!”

“Admiral Piett,” Vader said, his override codes cutting him on the Executor’s main viewscreen without preamble. “Your assistance is urgently needed. The Rebels have sprung a trap.”

“Lord Vader!” Piett replied, startled. “I thought – there were reports you were missing?”

“I was investigating the Rebel presence,” Vader retorted. “I am ordering immediate orbital bombardment, coordinates seven four two aurek nine, eight three six leth two.”

“But – I don’t understand-” Admiral Piett protested, glancing at the nearest reports.

They showed that firing was going on on the surface, and two defending battalions were already reporting losses.

“I do not require your understanding, Admiral, I require your compliance,” Vader said, his voice like iron. “If your mewling causes our defeat then you will have to answer to me personally.”

Piett could almost feel the forceful grip around his collar.

“Don’t just sit there!” he snapped, turning to the command pit. “Get a shield window ready and open fire!”

The Executor’s port turbolaser batteries opened fire, two volleys blasting into the sphere of the planetary shield, then a third one passed right through the now-open shield window and raised hell on the ground. The explosions hit like the mightiest ground artillery available to the Empire, raising huge plumes of smoke, and harried officers and ratings called reports back and forth.

“Correct north, fourteen,” Vader said, firmly.

“Correcting north fourteen!” one of the officers said, and the turbolasers spat fire again.

And destroyed the main shield dish in a fountain of explosions.

“What?” Piett demanded. “What just happened? Lord Vader, what is going on?”

The channel had already closed.

About ten seconds later, one of the Executor’s escort star destroyers opened fire on it, and Piett lost all track of what was happening.

“All wings report in,” Lando called, flicking a switch as the Falcon closed in on the Death Star, then frowned at his scanners as Wedge and Arvel and the others reported their squadrons ready.

“...well, I don’t know what’s going on there, but it sure looks like Han and the others have pulled something off,” he said.

There was some kind of battle going on in sector 3-7, what looked like an Imperial battlegroup tearing itself apart with turbolaser fire flashing back and forth in every direction and a boil of fighters trying to work out who was on what side. There was also a battle on the surface going on, one far more intense than anything Lando had expected the commandos to need to do.

Or be capable of.

“It looks like the Imperials are doing our job for us,” Nien suggested.

“Yeah, but we’ve still got a job to do,” Lando muttered. “Other squadrons on combat patrol; red group, gold group, all fighters follow me! Let’s pop that grenade!”

He shook his head. “And I thought rescuing Han was chaotic! I wonder who came up with this?”

[impossibleprincess35]

Asphodel | ch 63

Excerpt:

The flames of burning spires licked at the first signs of morning light as civil twilight guided Satine from a treacherous night of panic and fear, and the sight of the Jedi Temple that had once brought her peace now terrified her. A fire had begun hours earlier, just after the sky was dotted with a multitude of stars and many Coruscantians had retired to bed, and unlike the temple bombing months earlier, this was an inferno that dwarfed any accident.

A sort of chaos broke out in the Temple District as evacuations happened with neighboring populations getting as far from the flames as possible, and as security forces and rescue units responded and tried to get close, they were struck by atmospheric disturbances that rendered their equipment obsolete and their volunteers unwell. No one could get close enough to assess what the cause was or whether there were casualties, as even HoloNet camera drones were disabled upon attempting to fly over the burning spires.

There was no word from Obi-Wan, and attempts to reach him via comlink were failing time and time again, but she held onto the belief that as daylight took hold, so would hope.

There was always light after the dark.

Isn’t there? Satine thought.

Gathered in the Senate District in Padme’s penthouse, Satine and Bail were the only ones still awake. Caepo and Korkie were huddled at the foot of the sofa, leaning against each other as they slept, and Padme had resigned to her bedroom hours earlier; but she’d insisted that they stay and wake her if there was any news on what was happening.

Sleep had eluded Satine and Bail, who witnessed one another nod off for a short reprieve from their worries, only to wake once more, anxious and alert, hoping for updates; but nothing had come yet.

“I’ve tried all night to reach someone in the Order,” Bail murmured from across the room to her. “I think the lines of communication in and out of the temple are affected. Coms don’t seem to be working.”

Satine slumped in her seat with her chin in her hands as she replied, “There are stories about how Jedi Temples are built upon dark side vergences. Obi-Wan once explained it to me, but I wish I could remember all of the details accurately.” Then her eyes darted up to him. “You probably already know that, what with your fascination with the Jedi.”

Delirious from a lack of sleep, Bail leaned back in his chair and shrugged as he replied, “If I weren’t so tired, I’d tell you all about it, but yes, I know.”

--

Chapter 63 is up.

[luke-shywalker]

jedi killer: npcs

there are a set number of jedi student npcs and at game start we randomly assign each one “alive” or “dead” so the game is different every time

I will not give each one the ability to move. That is too much. Maybe a select few can become your companion and go where you go

It would be cool if alive ones could be reassigned dead if Ben enters the room they’re in

Maybe there is a counter running so that as the game goes on, the npcs have more information about what’s going on when you talk to them. Maybe there are three knowledge states: knows nothing, knows some, knows most of what’s happening. No matter which npc it is, the first one you talk to would be like “do you know what’s going on? I don’t know” and then once you’ve talked to most of them, everyone kinda understands “oh yea ben solo went berserk”

there is a comlink. maybe you have the option to call one of the three companions and find out where they are on the map so you can get them in your party?

I want to create a way to give the player options about how they saw Ben. Maybe there is sort of a “relationship counter” in the background as the player is discussing Ben with the classmates. The more favorably/charitably you speak of him, a higher relationship counter will trigger “X” scene when you encounter Ben, a lower one will trigger “Y” scene

This whole concept was built on the idea of “a game about Ben Solo but only through the eyes of others,” but idk I feel like there needs to be a final confrontation with him at the end…it’s just The Game Thing to Do

[bluerhapsodist]

New Jedi Order Concept: "Rey's Rangers"

(not the biggest sequel trilogy fan, but I liked this concept so much)

As the last surviving Jedi in the galaxy, Rey Skywalker (as formally adopted by Leia Organa before her passing) sets out from Tatooine with BB-8, Chewbacca, and the Millennium Falcon to continue the work that the late Luke Skywalker began. She revisits Jakku, Ahch-To, and Ajan Kloss, and her travels take her to the Graveyard of Alderaan, Yavin 4, the forest moon of Endor, Ossus, Dantooine, and the depths of Coruscant itself.

In her travels, Rey seeks out “beacons” in the Force to guide her way. Her rule becomes, “One to follow, and one to leave for others.” On every world she visits, Rey leaves something of her journey for others to find, making it less of a trial in the war-torn galaxy for Force-sensitives to find her. She sees herself not as a teacher, but as a collector and a guide. In many ways, Rey goes back to her roots as a scavenger in the dunes of Jakku, but this time, she isn’t alone. The Force is with her, and so are the spirits of the Jedi, from Yoda to Obi-Wan Kenobi to Luke and Leia.

Rey calls herself a Jedi Knight, but she doesn’t have a Republic to defend—only the survivors of the Resistance and various worlds that rose up against the First Order. In time, others come to help her, no matter whether they’re Force-sensitive or not. They join her in digging up artifacts, reconstructing ancient texts, cleansing traces of the dark side, and doing good for others. Beyond friends like Rose Tico and Jessika Pava, Rey attracts a motley crew of archaeologists, explorers, starfighter pilots, historians, and young people who joined armed revolts against the First Order. Rose provides them with Resistance insignia rings to mark them as friends of Rey, and they soon adopt its symbol as their own.

They wear no uniforms or robes, and only Rey has built her own lightsaber. She teaches them about the Jedi Code and the exercises she faced with Luke and Leia. Soon enough, someone suggests a name for the fellow scavengers and scouts who aid Rey: “Jedi Rangers.” They live simply, focused on preserving knowledge across the galaxy and helping others in need along the way. Rey uses her philosophy about “beacons” to guide her allies in their ongoing mission.

A Jedi Ranger usually wears a brown coat, cloak, or poncho over some white tunic or shirt (or any similar garments as befits their species). They carry whatever personal weapons they need, a comlink, an encrypted S-thread beacon, enough credits to make it from one port to the next, and a datapad full of records on the Jedi that Rey is trying to constantly keep updated in the HoloNet. The Rangers do not have a headquarters or a temple like previous iterations of the Jedi, and there is no distinction between those who truly feel the Force and those who don’t. Anyone who is willing to serve can serve, and anyone who serves takes a vow before Rey and others to honor the memory of the Jedi and resist the temptations of power and destruction.

There is no new Jedi Temple. Instead, on Jakku and a dozen other planets, the Rangers set up Waystations. They rely on these prefabricated structures to find temporary lodging, collect data and artifacts, offer meals and first aid, and offer shelter to the poor and the persecuted. Soon, beings across the galaxy begin to see these Waystations as shrines to the Jedi and safe havens. Gifts and flowers are left outside the entrances, and some even offer up orphaned children to the Rangers. Like the Rangers themselves, only a few of the children are actually Force-sensitive. But Rey and the other senior members have trouble saying no to such offerings, so they do their best to help out and care for the children on each world they visit.

Every six months, the Rangers hold a Congregation, a full gathering of their numbers in person and by hologram. For security’s sake, they hide the location of their members from the galaxy at large, relying on their S-thread beacons to keep track of another. At the Congregation, Rangers share what they’ve learned, what they’ve found or rediscovered, and what help they’ve rendered on different planets. The goal is to encourage one another’s progress, not to compete or one-up each other.

Rey’s dream is the Library of the Jedi, a successor to the Jedi Archives that once existed on Coruscant. However, it is a shadowfeed on the HoloNet, untouched by either New Republic or First Order security protocols. Some of that information is backed up in Waystations and mobile databanks, but the rest lives and breathes on the HoloNet for Rangers and their allies to access and update. Some Rangers retire from their journeys and dedicate themselves to being archivists studying and classifying each new record. Rey herself looks forward to being a librarian when she’s ready to leave the wider galaxy behind, especially as younger, more enthusiastic Rangers emerge from every corner to aid in her mission.

[off-brand-likes]

Forced to Beg

Less sexy than we all hoped, unfortunately.

Since I managed to stretch Febuwhump out to April, I'm also going to use a few prompts from WoW's Birthday Whump Event. I won't try to do all of them! But a few won't hurt (me) 😈

This is a continuation of this fic, but I think it stands on its own, too. Don't worry built-on-hope-1977, Kallus will get out of this predicament eventually. Might take a few more installments, tho. I will totally understand if you'd rather wait for the whole story to appear on AO3.

The stormtroopers who captured the Corellian resistance fighters should've brought a prisoner transport unit to break up this cell's meeting with Kallus. Waiting for the unit to arrive gave him, and hopefully the young Drall who'd escaped this trap, an opportunity to gain the upper hand somehow.

That hope gave Kallus the energy to force himself to rise to his knees. The effort dragged the warehouse's oily air over his burned throat. No matter how much it hurt, he had to keep breathing. If he passed out, he'd miss whatever chance came his way.

His projected time to return to the Glimmer came and went an hour ago. Right now, Dee-Four would be busy deleting clearance codes and hyperspace routes off the Glimmer's systems. Kallus couldn't help wondering how Alliance Intelligence reacted to Dee-Four reporting him missing, as they'd agreed he should do in a situation like this. Credits would change hands on some bets, no doubt.

The stormtrooper lieutenant's comlink clicked on. "Insurgents are closing on your position," a tense voice said. "We count about a dozen sentients. Shall we--"

"No." The officer beckoned a couple of his subordinates closer. "Hold position and call in another prisoner transport request. We'll add these to our haul."

"Yes, sir."

Kallus held his breath to listen, but the officer's brisk orders disappeared in the warehouse's poor acoustics. Several stormtroopers who had been guarding the twenty resistance fighters kneeling on the floor jogged away to new positions. They were setting up a crossfire covering the loading dock. The doors were all shut, but the officer must've been expecting the rescuers to arrive from that direction.

The stormtrooper lieutenant turned to the prisoners. "Nobody move, nobody make a sound. We don't need all of you alive."

The prisoners shifted and glanced around at each other. Kallus's bruised face and wheezing breaths couldn't have been very heartening, but he straightened his posture to project what confidence he could.

Their chances would be a lot better if somebody warned the resistance fighters outside that the stormtroopers in here were expecting them. The rebellion didn't need everyone in this warehouse alive, either. No one would say Kallus shirked his duty, on this mission or any other. If this was to be his final act, it was one he could take pride in.

He drew in air that felt like it shredded his burned throat. All of it rushed out of him with the word "Ambush," but his vocal chords only screamed in pain. The word itself came out in a gurgling whisper which couldn't have carried to the other end of the warehouse, let alone through its thick walls.

The nearest stormtrooper guard stepped forward and slammed the butt of his blaster rifle into the side of Kallus's head. The thud of the rotating coupler against Kallus's skull was louder than the warning he'd tried to shout. The resistance fighters around him flinched, but didn't move to repeat his warning as he fell to the floor.

One of the loading dock doors rumbled up toward the ceiling, drawing the stormtroopers' attention away from Kallus. He tried to push himself upright, but his balance was off, now. He collapsed to his side on the floor. The jolt from the second fall hurt like another blow to the head.

There was nothing Kallus could do in this state to stop himself from baiting the trap that would catch the Drall girl and the rest of this resistance cell along with her.  "Please," he whispered to the other resistance fighters. "Warn them." But with multiple stormtroopers watching the prisoners with their blaster rifles drawn, nobody else said a word.

[shadow-gear]

Chapter 3 - Reflections

“I’ve lost sight of him.” Shui Jaing’s soft voice pierced the team’s magic comlink.

Shui, a human below average height with black hair past her shoulder blades, perched above the shipyard on a suspended cargo container. Chains creaked under the strain as they swung with the slightest movement from her. Shui vigilantly kept track of her team through her scope’s thermal setting. She toggled between thermal and scotopic vision trying to find her target. Her marksmanship skills earned her top of the class and her small stature made her a hard target to spot. A perfect candidate that Adalissie couldn’t pass up.

“Skathor, time for Plan B.” Adalissie panted through the coms.

Adalissie, a taller than average human with brown shoulder length hair, sprinted and leaped over abandoned lift trucks and other obstacles in a maze of cargo containers. She slid to a stop and slammed her back against a tall container waiting for Shui’s directions.

“I hate Plan B.”

Her partner, Rorgal Daymantal, a suave grizzled dwarf with a long braided beard down to his hips, hot on her tail. He tapped her shoulder as he came up behind her—his way of letting her know he’s in position. He took a back seat on this mission and let Adalissie take over as team leader. He mentored her long enough. Their paths diverted and they both looked in opposite directions covering their respective flanks.

With a puff of air, Adalissie blew her bangs out of her bloodshot eyes. “He’s built like an airship. How is he so fucking fast?”

Sweat rolled down her olive-toned forehead into her eyes, making them sting. The coms remained silent, and she looked behind her at Rorgal.

Rorgal chuckled, hitting her lower arm in a friendly manner as he struggled to catch his breath as well. “You’re just out of shape, girl,”

His aging body won’t be able to keep up with this chase for much longer, and Adalissie knew that. Even in her late twenties, she also felt the strain of the chase. A Dragonkin provoked the team into entering a shipyard off the coast of Staera. Dragonkin is a race rarely seen outside of Uzon, the East continent. His kind were all sorcerers thanks to the dragon blood that flowed into their veins. The kingdoms of Athewen, Procaria, and Staera had laws that banned magic and the execution of any known affiliates and practitioners of sorcerers. Those same three kingdoms formed a joint team comprising their finest to apprehend criminals such as this.

Adalissie snorted, “Look who’s talking, old man. Don’t die of a heart attack this close to retirement.”

Skathor, the other member of their team, broke the silence of com chatter. “Authorization approved from HQ. Quit the chatter. I need to concentrate.” 

Skathor Muse, a young Cambion eager to prove himself, gripped his components bag. His red forehead wrinkled as he prepared for his location spell. In a circle, Skathor painted several arcane symbols in white paint on the blue container in front of him. He reached into his brown leather bag and splashed the wet paint with bits of bloodhound fur. Demonic chants flowed out of his lips as his eyes turned a neon yellow and his vision narrowed, focusing on the Dragonkin. 

“East corner of the yard. Stationary for now. Alone. Heart rate increased. He’s panicking.”

A moment of silence before Shui spoke over the com. “All clear. Both sides. I have eyes on him. Container unit 5793 sitting in a clearing straight ahead. Recommended formation Alpha Delta.” 

“Moving.” Acknowledged Adalissie.

Rorgal gave a head nod of approval to her as she held a finger to her lips. She opened up her palm in one hand and with the other, did a circular motion above it. Both held up their firearms in their respective directions. Adalissi tapped Rorgal’s back without looking back. They crept around the fork and entered narrow corridors. A fog horn from a passing ship echoed off the tall stacks of metal boxes. 

Shui leaped down from her spot and disassembled her rifle. She tried carefully not to make a sound when she jumped from one container to the next. She crouched and followed closely from up top, keeping tabs on Adalissi from the corner of her eye. Skathor did the same as Shui, but followed Rorgal from the top. He had a heavier foot step than his partner and the empty containers reminded him.

Deep into the shipyard sat unit 5793 and their target. Multiple pathways would take her to her target, it was a wide open spot. Too many blindspots and she didn’t like that. She knew a trap when she saw one, but no dice, the only way through is forward. Careful not to let her presence known, she crouched close to the edge of the boxes. 

Shui and Skathor broke off and circled around to the other side to get a better vantage spot. Adalissie and Rorgal waited patiently for the others to get into position masking their presence in the shadows.

Comms were suddenly lit up with a mix of deafening static and broken up voices of the team talking over each other. “Shit, we… play… target… eyes up…”

“Adie, move your ass!”

Adalissie heard Rorgal shout towards her before blurs of green and blue crossed her vision. Cold steel pressed against her body as she heard shouting and gunfire muffled by faint scuffling. A dim golden tether floated by her, leaving a faint sparkle in its wake. Her vision blurred and a high pitch deafened her hearing. 

“Blood of my blood. This is not your time.”

Her consciousness faded to black. 

****

Birds chirped on a warm afternoon. Children frolicked about the playground, their voices carried far across the landscape. A girl, about four, used the cover of a nearby tree and observed them playing. Her long bleach-white hair flowed in the evening breeze. Golden irises that contrasted against her bronze skin tone longed to join the children. 

“Why are you not playing with the others, Miss Mashal?”

A voice behind the girl startled her. The adolescent whipped her head around so quickly that the momentum and length of her hair smacked her in the face. A gasp escaped from her mouth as her chest tightened. Upon recognizing who snuck up behind her, she shrugged it off and acted like it didn’t phase her.

“They don’t want a freak like me playing with them.”

“You are not a freak. You have something special they do not possess.” They processed their next set of words. “Which makes them scared of you. If they do not want to take the time to get to know you, then they are not worth your time.”

“Cia, it is the same wherever I go. They call me names and it hurts.”

Cia kneeled and patted her on the head.

“You are Adalissie Mashal. Nothing more, nothing less.” Cia reached her hand out toward Adalissie. “Now come, it is time to see your mother.” 

Adalissie held on tight to Cia’s hand with a heavy heart. She had not seen her mom in months since the collapse in her study. Doctors tried to explain, but the words they used were far beyond her understanding. Adalissie glanced up at Cia and noticed the dry mascara that ran down her cheeks.

“Is mommy okay?” Adalissie asked.

Cia’s voice cracked. “Yeah. Everything is fine.” 

Liar.

The drive to the hospital was relatively short, but to Adalissie, it felt longer. Thoughts entered her mind, and none of them were good. She noticed Cia crying from time to time when she thought she wasn’t looking.

Doctors and nurses stood outside the hospital with government officials. Adalissie rubbed her eyes as the lights from the lobby blinded her. Officers escorted her to her mother, and the hallways fell silent when she walked down. Nurses who were going about their day all bowed their heads in sorrow as she passed.

It made her heart sink. Drops of water landed on the top of her hand and she instantly reached up to her cheek, wiping away the wetness.

Sporadic beeping machines lined the bed with several hoses hooked to a shriveled woman. People who Adalissie didn’t recognize left without speaking, leaving an empty room for her and her mother. 

Raspy and weak, the bedridden woman spoke.

“Is my daughter here yet?”

Adalissie ran over to her mom, letting go of Cia’s hand. Cia took a step forward, but hesitated. She didn’t want to interrupt their reunion.

“Mom!” Adalissie grabbed her mother’s hand. “What’s wrong?”

It had been months since she heard her mother’s voice. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she couldn’t stop smiling. She wanted to tell her mother everything that had happened in the time she had been in a coma.

“Today at school…”

“My precious daughter.”

Blonde dark-skinned woman stared blankly at the ceiling, paying no attention to the child’s death grip on her arm. Adalissie’s smile faded.

“Mom?”

“You are destined for great things, my love.” Her mother weakly laughed. “I wish to see the new era you bring. I am so sorry that-”

A long, drawn-out tone from one machine filled the room. Adalissie’s eyes darted between her mother and the machine. She looked back at Cia, who had already broken down crying. A flash of light, brighter than the sun, lit the room. Adalissie kneeled beside her mother with white feathery wings spread from her back, reaching to both ends of the bed. Cia rushed into the room and gave a warm embrace to calm the child. The bright light dimmed and her wings drooped. The hallways were no longer silent.

****

Hemp rope rubbed tight against Adalissie’s skin as she lay on a cold, hard surface. Her head pounded as if someone was beating her head with a stick. She blinked, trying to get her vision to focus. A high-pitched wailing drowned familiar voices out. Another voice she didn’t recognize broke the chatter.

“Ah, the girl awakens.”

Adalissie shook her head to clear her senses. “W-what?”

The high-pitched wail subsisted, and her vision focused. Darkness surrounded her and she couldn't see past the bright light shining in her direction. Her team sat detained next to her, hands and feet bound.

Rorgal leaned closer to Adalissie. “You took a bad tumble back there, girl. Thought you wouldn’t make it.”

The bright light from the lamp shined directly into their face and caused everyone to sweat under the intense heat it gave off. A Dragonkin, horns narrowly touching the ceiling, revealed himself from the shadows. Scraping a chair across the concrete floor behind him. He let out a small puff of air while flexing his nostrils giving off an intimidating presence which made Adalissie uneasy. 

Long, black claws gripped the back of the chair and spun it around. His beefy scaled legs straddle the wooden seat as he sat facing them. Colorful bronze scales reflected the light back on the wall making different shapes. His dark brown serpentine eyes darted between his captives studying their reactions. 

“Let’s begin.”

The Dragonkin spoke in a guttural voice, followed by a low growl. Adalissie noted his presence, which carried a bit of weight. As Adalissie’s eyes adjusted to the room, she took notice of the other people in the room with them. She didn't take into account that the Dragonkin had help evading them. It made sense now why he was hard to capture.

“My name is Tiphuc Dravull. Tell me, do you know the reason your kingdoms hunts down sorcerers?”

He snapped his bulky fingers together. A lengthy human, no older than twenty, brought up a strange contraption. An oblong container that faintly glowed and pulsed with purple energy. Twisted supports resembling the roots of a tree, connected to two leaf-shaped ends.

“Sorcery is outlawed for a good reason. It’s blood magic and nothing good comes from using it.” Shui said.

The group of humans in the foreground erupted in a unison laugh and stopped when Tiphuc lifted his hand.

“Is that what they teach you?” A sensible chuckle escaped his throat. “That’s cute. Magic is not free for those who are not born from it. The Gods are dead and your Kingdoms are hiding the truth.” 

Tiphuc rose and pushed the chair aside, then adjusted his glare at Skathor. “Tell me, Red, where does your source come from?”

“It took me years to study magic and learn the spells I know,” Skathor said.

“But where do you draw power from to cast those spells?” asked Tiphuc.

“Valgrea, The Tree of Death.”

Tiphuc strolled toward Skathor, his snout inches from his face. He leaned back to escape the dragon’s foul breath and its massive claws that dwarfed the peculiar gadget that he presented toward him. Two of Tiphuc’s followers moved behind Skathor and stood him up, untying his bonds. 

“That is a Cambion religious faith. Made up to keep you devils in line. I will show you raw arcane power. Power that you can touch, smell, and see,” Tiphuc handed the object to Skathor.

Skathor reached out and grasped the apparatus, bringing it closer to him. Low hums increased in pitch and the purple bloom brightened the longer he held it. Pulses increased and the arcane machine became deafening. 

A smirk gradually drew across his face. A surge of mystic strength coursed through his veins. Translucent blue crystals sprouted from his palm and morphed into a small dagger. He flipped the crystalline dirk in the air for a while.

“This is incredible. I can cast magic without components or incantations.”

Skathor summoned multiple ice daggers and threw them at the closest wall. He coughed up blood the second he cast. The ice daggers melted, unable to maintain composition.

“What-” pain shot through Skathor’s arm. “What’s happening?”

His arm vibrated as the humming grew louder. A moan withdrew from his lips as he dropped to one knee. Veins bulged from his arms and pulsed in sync with the machine. Skathor fell prone, screaming in agony. 

In minutes, his body cracked with purple energy and his red skin turned to a brown, white ash. The screaming abruptly stopped, as there was nothing left but a husk. Tiphuc lightly blew, causing a swirl of dust in the space where Skathor once lay.

“Repentance.” Tiphuc swiped the contraption off the floor and handed it to Adalissie. “Are you ready to be judged?”

“Fuck you.” She spat at his feet while maintaining eye contact. “Do you think of yourself as some kind of replacement for the Gods?”

Tiphuc grabbed her neck and slammed her face into the ground. The weight and pure strength were no match for her thin body structure. The device hummed louder when placed in her hands. Shui and Rorgal struggled against their restraints to help their teammate. Adalissie’s irises flickered from brown to an illuminated gold. 

“Let go of me!” she yelled through clenched teeth.

The roots of her brown hair turned to a bleach white. Tiphuc’s eyes widened as more of her hair changed to the same color.

“Interesting. Does your team know what you are?”

“No.” With a sigh, Tiphuc flew away from her by an invisible force. “And they never will.”

A flash of light filled the room, impairing the vision of everyone. Over the sounds of fighting, the device increased its hum as ambient magic built. The room fell silent except for the creaking hinge of the cargo door opening. A large horned figure dragging a corpse behind it exited.

****

Thick smoke swirled around a room of a run-down apartment. Sirens from the streets passed through the paper-thin walls. Burnt skin mixed with burning paper flowed out of the unsealed front door. Normally, this would be a cause for concern, but this was an everyday occurrence in this neighborhood.

After the sizzle of a paper stick being put out, the teenage girl whimpered quietly. A mid-thirties woman lifted the cigarette from the teenager’s forearm. Burnt skin healed on her with remarkable speed, with no trace of the injury. The smoking woman reached for another smoke and let out an audible frustration.

She looked at the girl sitting next to her on the couch.

“Be a good girl and get Mama more Hellhounds from her room.”

With watery eyes, the girl looked at her caretaker and whimpered, “Cia...”

“Now, Adalissie!”

Cia threw the empty Hellhound box across the room. Feeling defeated, Adalissie carried out the task and proceeded to Cia’s bedroom. She hated nights where her foster dad came home early. He would give Cia some pills that made her zone out, and she would become a different person.

Dread hit her when she walked into Cia’s bedroom. This used to be a happy home before Velcun, her foster father, came into the picture. Cia would bring take out after work and they would watch movies until she fell asleep. Now it’s full of drugs and moldy beer cans. This isn’t what her mother would have wanted for her, but she can’t leave Cia alone with that asshole.

She searched the room from top to bottom before finding the smokes in the dresser’s top drawer hidden under some socks. Pain struck her like someone stabbed a knife through her skull after grabbing the carton. Just like the other times, she pushed past the pain and winced, enduring the irritation.

When leaving the room, her headache grew, dropping her to her knees instantly. Not daring to yell, she shut her eyes and clasped her head while caging her suffering. Before she could halt the sensation, but this felt different. Her dark brown irises flickered an illuminating gold, lighting the dimly lit hallway like a spotlight. 

Spots on her back itched as the skin tore sprouting wing joints. Strands of blonde and white blended into her brown hair. Tiny bone stubs broke through her skull, releasing some of the pain. She squatted and pulled her legs close to her chest while she tightly closed her eyes.

“No, not now.” She mumbled as she rocked back and forth. “Please stop.”

Down the hallway, a door slammed opened followed by heavy footsteps coming toward her. A human male towered over the scared girl.

“What did I tell you about using your powers in my house, freak?”

The man unbuckled his belt and wiped it off his pants with a crack. She knew what came next, and her body froze. She wanted to scream, but the lump in her throat prevented her from letting out a peep. One, two, three strikes from his waistband, leaving red marks on her skin that healed as quickly as they formed. Her heart pumped faster, and she experienced an unfamiliar might swell deep inside. A voice rang in her mind in a language she somehow understood.

Uio avai rad dalok ad koark dhoal kruxo?

Are you not tired of being their slave?

Kdak harkark kudk. Ork dho kuar.

Stop holding back. End the pain.

Iorouko avail dirr kaxoi.

Release your full power.

Twisted horns shot out the tiny bone stubs on her forehead, curving upwards. Pitch-black ooze draped her long white hair, soiling the carpet. The whites of her eyes became obsidian and her gold pupils deepened to a glowing ruby. Long, sharp front teeth poked her bottom lip while her snow-white appendages darkened to the same black as her hair.

“Velcun, ka rad daidh no uravnaio!” Adalissie’s ebony wings fanned out as she walked closer.

Velcun tumbled backward and scrambled to scurry away from the Adalissie. 

A flame lit at the tip of her finger. “Her heart is no longer endured by agony. She is not your plaything. She is no longer Cia’s responsibility.”

Adalissie’s lips moved, but it was not her sweet, soft voice that came out. It was deeper, more confident, and it terrified Velcun to his core. With his backside to the hallway wall, he pushed himself up upright. Lengthy black-tipped nails gently coiled around Velcun’s throat, pushing him up the wall further. The ruby glow of her eyes pierced deep into his core as his trachea caved in from the pressure of her hold.

“I’m not sorry for what I did. You ungrateful child.” 

His raspy last words escaped through his crushed windpipe as his eyes dulled gray and his body went limp. 

Bottles crashed on the hardwood floor in the next room, drawing Adalissie’s attention. She dropped Velcun’s body on the floor and moved on. Cia huddled in the corner, blocking herself with furniture to distance her and the thing Adalissie had become.

“S-stay back, you m-monster.” Cia cried, holding out a broken glass bottle.

Adalissie threw the carton of Hellhounds towards Cia. She dropped the bottle and caught the smoke box.

“Ino’s death deeply scarred you in ways others would never understand. Being left to raise a child by yourself put unnecessary strain on you but, marrying that abusive fuck. It changed you and not for the better.” Adalissie inched closer to Cia’s face and ran her long fingernail across her delicate features. “You’ve fallen from grace, Cia.”

“Every time I look at you…” Tears streamed down Cia’s face. “I’m reminded of what I lost. She… she overworked because of you. You were her world, and I loved her.”

Adalissie backed slowly while lowering her brow. Her inky tips curled onto the sofa, poking holes in the upholstery.

“So you turned to drugs? You let a child fend for herself while you tried to forget? How dare you blame a child for the death of their mother?”

Adalissie roared, shaking the apartment and shattering the windows. Adalissie chanted an incantation and waved her hand in rhythmic motion. An arcane symbol appeared, spawning three small specs that floated into Cia’s mouth. Cia itched compulsively, tearing at her skin. Insects crawled out of her wounds and tore into her flesh more, a repeated cycle generating more bugs with each rebirth. 

“She loved you, Cia, and you let her down.”

****

Tiphuc still breathed, but couldn’t move much more than his torso. His burnt corpse was still smoldering as Adalissie crouched above him, watching him die.

He looked at her and struggled to talk, spewing blue blood. “Nine Hells take you, Sem’Varian.” 

“Take me?” Adalissie leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “The Nine Hells didn’t want me.”

She reached for the knife that was strapped to her leg. Inch by inch, she inserted it in the nape and with the last exhale of breath from Tiphuc; she had verification that he expired. She swiftly stowed the dagger, satisfied that he would no longer be talking. Bones cracked as she grew shorter and her horns retracted back into her forehead.

She dragged her teammates out of the room one by one and untied them. While they were still unconscious, she set fire to the building and destroyed any evidence of what she did. Rorgal woke up first, followed by Shui, who frantically looked around. She helped calm Shui down enough to have a coherent conversation with her.

“What the hell was that?” Shui asked.

“A radical cultist? All sorcerers spew the same nonsense.” replied Adalissie.

“She means what spell did you cast?” Rorgal butted in.

“That wasn’t me. Must have been a malfunction with the device.”

“No.” Rorgal stood up, standing between Shui and Adalissie. “I don’t think it was. What are you hiding?”

Adalissie sighed heavily. “I always liked you, Rorgal, and that’s why I’m giving you an option to leave with your lives. I’ll say you died in the attack like Skathor or—”

“Or what?” Rorgal asked.

Adalissie’s brown eyes flickered gold and her horns grew.

“I’ll kill you.”

****

Adalissie returned from her mission alone and sat in her superior’s office, dodging cups and other objects. Papers swirled around after a frustrated swipe of the Minotaur’s gnarly toned arm across his desk. A ceramic coffee mug with world’s best dad fell to the ground and shattered.

It didn’t phase Adalissie in the slightest. Calm and collected, she endured her aggressive discipline that lasted for several minutes before the Captain calmed down. 

“Tell me again why I have three stiffs in the morgue?” He took a deep breath, then exhaled. “This was a joint operation between three Kingdoms. Do you understand how bad this makes us look?”

“Well, Rorgal was killed as well.”

“Is that what you get out of this?” His large hands pulled his chair closer. “Until this fuck up gets resolved, I’m giving you a new assignment. Far away from me and this Kingdom.”

“Captain-”

Adalissie was cut off as he talked over her.

“It’s another joint operation, but you are taking a backseat on this. Maybe you’ll learn something from…” The captain adjusted his glasses. “Amzer Bright. Not our jurisdiction, but they are seeking help.”

Her death grip indented the foam padding on the armrest. She dug deeper before letting go when she felt her fingers poke through the fake leather. Her jaw tensed and she bit down harder, keeping her feelings in check. She wanted to scream. It wouldn’t do any good, but it might make her feel better. 

“When am I leaving?” she asked, calmly.

“Tonight. All the arrangements have been made.” 

He shifted his metal framed glasses that rested loosely on the bridge of his nose. He grabbed a few papers off his desk and staked them in different piles.

“Where am I going?” Adalissie asked.

A few seconds passed before he noticed she had not left. He looked over the frames as they slipped down the bridge of his nose.

“Black Hollow. A town, if that’s what you want to call it. I’d say it’s more of a fishing village.”

“So, not worth my time.”

“You don’t have a choice. Now get out of my office.”

And with that, she left the building. With her bags packed, she left for Black Hollow. She decided she would play this by the book and keep things close to her chest. She didn’t want another incident on her hands. This case had to go well.

[dorkydegeneracy]

Oh, no! How dare the show give significant characterization to somebody other than the one main character! I mean, so what if this is an original character who needs to be developed, right?

First of all, I don't mind them building on the characterization of other characters.

For example: We built on the Obi-Wan and Leia relationship. Now it makes much more sense why Leia sent R2 to Tatooine to ask Obi-Wan for help. Some parts of the Leia reconnaissance mission were stupidly goofy (trench coat, chasing her through the woods) but the relationship that her and Obi-Wan built throughout the show is touching and valuable to the Star Wars story.

Another character we built on was Vader. We got to see his brute strength, and his attachment to Obi-Wan. Palpatine hit it right on at the end when he called Vader out for being unsettled about Obi-Wan. He's still pissed, and his emotions about Obi-Wan compromise his position in the Empire.

Even the stuff we learn about Owen Lars and his hesitancy to let Obi-Wan have a relationship with Luke. Great stuff!

All are good characterization of what amount to side characters in a show called Obi-Wan Kenobi.

I don't even necessarily have a problem with Reva's backstory as a former Padawan turned inquisitor who is pissed at Vader/Anakin or even Obi-Wan. Not my preferred story, but sure, I'll buy it.

But her surviving Vader's lashing on Jabim really marks the beginning of an irresponsible handling of the canon.

It is stupid for her to know about Luke's parentage. Not only does it diminish the sacred nature of the greatest secret in the whole entire story, but it makes THE Obi-Wan Kenobi look like a dumbass. He's not forgetting that comlink. It's too important, and even a weaker version of Obi-Wan would not be so callous.

And then she proceeds to hike it to Tatooine where she attempts to kill Luke. But why? As Obi-Wan points out at the end, it is entirely hypocritical for her to do that considering what Vader did to her. She's doing it presumably to get back at Anakin, but that assuming (a) he knows that Luke and Leia are alive and (b) that Vader gives a fuck about his kids, seeing as he is supposed to be corrupted by the Dark side of the force.

Is she doing it to piss Obi-Wan off? They sort of patched their relationship up last week, which was rushed, and diminishes the believability of her motivations because I thought that she was pissed at Anakin for trying to kill her and Obi-Wan for enabling his ultimate fall. But then she sets aside her hatred for Obi-Wan so she can have a shot at Vader.

And he's Obi-Wan fucking Kenobi. He's as faithful to the light side as they come, so what makes you think that Kenobi will not be able to overcome yet another tragedy if you kill Luke?

And even after all of that, Obi-Wan gives her a pep talk and lets it slide? I understand that Kenobi is The Negotiator and is well known for his dislike of violence, but come on Obi-Wan! This lady, if anything, has proven herself to be a loose canon. She knows the greatest secret in Star Wars history. She's gotta be handled outta his love for the man that Anakin Skywalker was and his duty as a Jedi.

Everything to do with Reva in the last two episodes was just really bad decision making. People who have even a holistic understanding for the franchise and the story that Star Wars continues to create should be disappointed about how her story devolved.

You can like the character, or the actress and still have valid complaints about how her story was handled.

[ri47]

Does Vesselblood have VNs?

VNs definitely exist in both ADV and NVL form, although ADV is presently much more popular. adventure games as a whole, especially text adventures, enjoy a climate where most of the people who would be looking for games have fairly powerful computers (comlinks) on their person that can only sometimes display images, with most of the processing power being specialised into their on-board cryptography

terminal games in general are very popular and jump borders quite a bit, by virtue of being small and easy to smuggle between weavenets. one of the more popular text games among younger people, in both the Divine Solis and the KHU, is a historical (albeit heavily fictionalised) strategy game depicting the unification wars of the sects which would later become the Divine Solis Imperium. gameplay-wise, imagine Nobunaga's Ambition with more dialogue sections

of course, KHU users tend to favour heavily modded variants of it. one of the most popular has a BL skew to it, with simulated relationship and erotic mechanics. the general consensus on those erotic mechanics tends to be that they're "clunky, repetitive, and not especially sexy"

and yet, there's still a dedicated playerbase and about thirty different subvariants of it, so clearly the base gameplay changes are worth suffering through the worst of it

but to get back on topic, there are definitely plenty of proper VNs with art and all. most tend to work best on stationary terminals, especially ones that were built solely for entertainment rather than long-distance communications over the weavenet

and mind you, even then, VNs remain a niche among niches

[marroniere]

fic: Admiral Fantastic, Thranto, post-Ahsoka, mature, chapters 10/26

Thrawn presses the button on the recording device.

First, there are the sounds that indicate a very, very thorough bug sweep. Thrawn commends Captain Enoch’s attention to detail, truly. It is, however, both convenient and most unfortunate that the Captain never bothered to check the built-in comlink in the helmet he so favors. It only took Thrawn ten minutes to reprogram it.

Then come the conversations with a stormtrooper about the Lysatra incident. Thrawn believes the stormtrooper to be an unreliable narrator—a human’s emotional state may affect the said human’s ability to think logically and focus on the details that matter. But the recording makes it abundantly clear that Eli Vanto did take part in the destruction of an Imperial base, founded on Lysatra in the first year of Moff Gideon's brief reign. Curious.

Thrawn takes a pause to read all the files he manages to find on the base in question. He sits down in the tall, black grass, under a carcass of a tree. The rancor curls beside him. Already in the base commander's dossier, Thrawn finds what he needs. "Necessary security measures" taken against the local population.

Moff Gideon, in all his infinite wisdom, decided to begin with a mass murder of those Lysatrans who wished to have talks with him.

Some distant part of Thrawn wants to brand Eli a traitor. He refuses to do so. Over the years, it has become increasingly harder for Thrawn to draw a line between himself and the Empire. More often than ever, he has to remind himself where his true loyalties lie.

But then he remembers, and then certain things become obvious. If Thrawn’s people were treated that way by the Empire, he would have done the same thing Eli did.

(Would he? Does he even remember what his people look like?)

(He would. He certainly would.)

[sw5w]

Hee-hee!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 02:03:24

[saphronethaleph]

The Big Reveal

“So, uhm… Lord Sidious?” one of the Sith Cultists asked.

“Yes?” Sidious asked, his voice sounding both sinister and somewhat phlegmy.

He’d have to work on that. This latest clone was definitely an improvement over the previous one, but he didn’t want to have some sort of embarrassing choking-related accidental death while speaking to the lower orders.

It would ruin his reputation.

“About these instructions for the construction of the Final Order,” the cultist said. “I’m… are you sure this is correct?”

“Yes,” Sidious replied.

“It’s just… underground?” the cultist asked. “Because… normally space ships are ships that are built to go in space, and… I just don’t see why we’d build them underground.”

“It is for impact,” Sidious replied. “For the look of the thing. Young people have no appreciation of imagery these days… too busy with their holo-net programs…”

He shook his head, then coughed. “I have foreseen it. The dramatic visual is everything. It will intimidate the whole galaxy.”

“...um,” the cultist frowned. “Are you sure it will intimidate the whole galaxy? Because this is a secret base, under an ion storm, on a secret planet that you need special information just to be able to get to. To be honest it’s going to be hard enough to build these anyway without the need to build them underground.”

“Intimidation is the point of the Dark Side,” Sidious said, firmly. “And I will ensure that the whole galaxy sees it. I have my whole return planned out in meticulous detail. I will reach the youth, and I will go ‘viral’, as they say these days.”

The cultist looked curious.

“How will you do that, Lord Sidious?” he asked.

“Fortnite,” Sidious replied, then coughed, but managed to turn it into a cackle. “I will build up ‘hype’ by announcing my return on Fortnite, and then – I will broadcast the footage of the dramatic reveal of the Final Order across the whole galaxy!”

He leaned forwards. “And I will use the holo-net for it. Because it will be available for a limited time only. Do you understand?”

“...no, but you are the Sith Lord,” the cultist conceded. “I’ll just… get on that…”

“Good, good,” Sidious chuckled.

Then frowned.

“And bring me a glass of water,” he added.

The time had come.

His moment was now.

Palpatine waved his hand negligently, activating the comlink.

“Behold, the Final Order,” he said, half his attention focused on Kylo Ren and the other half on the glory of the moment. “Launch.”

The ground trembled, as all around the hidden throne room 1,080 massive Star Destroyers lit their engines. Ready to rise into the sky, exactly as Palpatine had planned.

Then there was a much more obvious jolt that shook the ground, and Palpatine clung onto the handrests of his throne for balance. Ren took a step back, frowning, then there was a hollow boom that echoed through the sky.

“What was that?” Palpatine demanded.

A tongue of flame spat into the sky, then another. More and more vicious tremors struck them, flinging cloning equipment to the ground and smashing it, and for several almost endless moments all that there was was noise and shaking ground and the thump and boom of explosions.

Then, finally, mercifully, the ground stopped shaking.

“...what was that?” Kylo asked.

“That was supposed to be the emergence of the Final Order,” Palpatine said, his throat rasping and his voice promising swift death to whoever had spoiled his perfect moment. “What happened? What went wrong?”

“The Final Order?” Kylo said, frowning. “Explain it to me.”

“One thousand and eighty battlecruiser-class Star Destroyers,” Palpatine replied. “Built in secret, in hidden caverns under the surface of Exegol, all launched at once to-”

“Erm,” Kylo interrupted. “Underground?”

“Yes, underground,” Palpatine snapped. “Why does everyone ask that?”

“...and, you… had them try and fly up out of their hangars?” Kylo asked. “You… do realize that the highest point on a Star Destroyer is the shield generators, correct?”

“What does that matter?” Palpatine asked.

“Your Star Destroyers just deliberately crashed their shield generators into a wall of solid rock,” Kylo said. “Rock thick enough to form the roof of a cavern, what, two and a half kilometres long and seven hundred metres wide. Which then… fell on them, having just crushed their shield generators.”

He sounded like he didn’t quite believe it himself.

“You… built the strongest navy the galaxy has ever seen, underground,” he said. “And then blew it up.”

“...I do not like your tone, boy,” Palpatine said.

“If you’ve been every voice I’ve ever heard inside my head,” Kylo began. “Then… I actually think I understand why everything keeps going wrong. This isn’t even the first time you’ve done this, is it?”

He waved his lightsaber around, more for emphasis than threat. “The Clone Army was mostly Dooku, you leaned heavily on my grandfather to make the Empire work… you kept insisting on impractical superweapons that can be easily blown up by a single attack in the wrong place… you announced your return on Fortnite of all places… you’re basically just a PR guy, aren’t you?”

Palpatine scowled.

“Yeah, I’m done,” Kylo decided. “At this point I’m pretty sure I can just defect to the Resistance and they’ll take me, they do that. And when they crash their ships into things it’s deliberate.”

[mkcosplayorcovid-19prevention]

Celeste Morne

STAR WARS SAGA EDITION WIKI

Celeste Morne

Reference Book: Star Wars Saga Edition Knights of the Old Republic Campaign Guide

Affiliations: The Jedi, Lucien Draay

Secretive, unorthodox, and good at her job, Celeste Morne is one of the few mysterious Jedi known as Covenant Shadows. Like all Jedi Shadows, Morne has dedicated her life to wiping out the agents of The Dark Side through whatever means necessary. As a Covenant Shadow, she is completely off the Jedi Council's radar. She does not dress as a Jedi, she only rarely uses her Lightsaber publicly, and she answers to no one except Lucien Draay. In many ways, Morne is the embodiment of the spirit of the Covenant Shadows; she operates completely in secret as a sleeper agent, going about her daily life while awaiting the call to duty.

Originally from Ossus, Morne wandered the galaxy after her home planet was devastated in The Great Sith War, eventually being raised by Krynda Draay and coming under the command of her son when she began training as a Jedi Shadow. She has served for years as an undercover agent of The Jedi, though she vanishes without a trace in 3,963 BBY under mysterious circumstances.

 Celeste Morne Statistics (CL 12)

Medium Human Jedi 7/Scoundrel 2/Jedi Knight 3

Destiny Points: 2; Force Points: 5, Strong in the Force; Dark Side Score: 4

Initiative: +13; Senses: Perception +14

Languages: Basic, Bocce

Defenses

Reflex Defense: 26 (Flat-Footed: 24 (Flurry: 21)), Fortitude Defense: 24, Will Defense: 27; Deflect

Hit Points: 87, Damage Threshold: 24

Offense

Speed: 6 Squares

Melee: Lightsaber +15 (2d8+6)

Melee: Lightsaber +17 (2d8+6) with Flurry

Ranged: Blaster Pistol +13 (3d6+6)

Base Attack Bonus: +11, Grapple: +13

Attack Options: Dastardly Strike, Flurry, Sentinel Strike (+2d8), Weapon Finesse

Special Actions: Force Haze

Force Power Suite (Use the Force +19): Battle Strike (2), Force Slam, Mind Trick, Move Object, Rebuke (2), Surge

Force Techniques: Force Point Recovery

Base Stats

Abilities: Strength 10, Dexterity 14, Constitution 10, Intelligence 12, Wisdom 16, Charisma 16

Talents: Clear Mind, Dastardly Strike, Deflect, Force Haze, Improved Sentinel Strike, Sentinel Strike (+2d8)

Feats: Flurry, Force Sensitivity, Force Training (2), Skill Focus (Deception), Skill Focus (Use the Force), Skill Training (Deception), Skill Training (Stealth), Strong in the Force, Weapon Finesse, Weapon Focus (Lightsabers), Weapon Proficiency (Lightsabers), Weapon Proficiency (Pistols), Weapon Proficiency (Simple Weapons)

Skills: Deception +19, Initiative +13, Knowledge (Galactic Lore) +12, Perception +14, Stealth +13, Use the Force +19 (may reroll opposed Sense Force, must take second result)

Possessions: Lightsaber (Self-Built), Comlink (Short-Range), Datapad, Utility Belt, Street Clothes, Various Personal Belongings

[backyardvampire]

"There are things you can't do via Comlink, though." - "Like what?"

Without any suspicion, Tavash turned his face to Finn's and instantly blushed as he realized how close they suddenly were. The Pantoran could not only see Finn's whole body tense, but felt his sudden change of heart like a crackle in the Force. As their noses touched, Tavash could spot every single freckle on Finn's beautiful face and couldn't help but smile. "May I?" Finn whispered, his eyes half-closed, with a voice audibly trembling under his breath. "Yeah..." murmured Tavash with a gentle nod. When their lips met, it was as if all the tension that had built up over the past few weeks had simply been washed away with the sea. For a moment, he was just there. At peace. At last.

[absdoesnothaveabs]

A Strange Feeling - Anakin Skywalker

A/N: Anakin is not burnt in this fic!!

The story of Aela and Anakin's relationship is full of twists and turns, with hidden secrets and heart-wrenching moments. They were married at the very young age of sixteen on the beautiful planet of Alderaan, with only her brother Bail Organa and sister-in-law Queen Breha Organa as witnesses. Despite being so young, Aela soon gave birth to their son, Bodhi Skywalker, whom she named after her father.

However, Anakin's life took a completely different turn when he met Padme again and fell in love with her. Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten about Aela and their marriage, and his mind was manipulated by Palpatine, who erased all memories of Aela from Anakin's mind.

Although Aela was heartbroken, she remained faithful and never indulged in the bond shared between her and Anakin. Instead, she poured all her love and energy into raising their son, Bodhi.

Years passed, and fate brought Padme to Alderaan, where she learned about Aela and Bodhi from Bail. Padme was shocked and apologetic for not knowing about Aela and her son. She met Aela and bonded with Bodhi, and during their conversation, she revealed that she was pregnant and scared that Anakin was losing his mind.

Aela and Padme kept in touch through comlinks, slowly building the Rebel Alliance together, sensing that something was happening in the galaxy. When Anakin turned to the dark side, Aela's heart was shattered, knowing that Bodhi would never know his father, and she would never feel Anakin's embrace again.

Bail informed Aela that Anakin had almost killed Padme, and she rushed to be with her, taking Bodhi along. There, she met Obi-Wan and Yoda, who were shocked to see her. She was present when Padme gave birth to Luke and Leia Skywalker, two beautiful babies whom she loved as her own. Padme begged Aela to keep them and raise them as her own, and Aela agreed, taking them to Yavin 4 to raise them.

Aela raised all three children as her own, and Bodhi kept their true parentage a secret. He was a caring big brother to Luke and Leia, and their names were never changed. Aela became the leader of the Rebel Alliance and built a beautiful purple lightsaber for herself. Bodhi trained with Obi-Wan, and the twins trained when they were old enough.

Meanwhile, Anakin kept having dreams of a woman he could not recognize. He saw himself with her, then saw her pregnant, but he wasn't there anymore. Suddenly, all the memories came back, and he realized he had a wife, Aela, his true love. He plotted to find her.

The only reason he turned to the dark side was that he thought he had lost everything and that there was no hope. What Palpatine did not know was that Anakin did not kill the younglings; he hid them. He fled to Alderaan to find Bail, knowing he could try to explain himself to him. And so he did. Bail believed him, but for safety, he locked him away before going to get his sister.

Aela sensed that something was off and took her children with her. Bodhi, Luke, and Leia were quickly sent to their Aunt Breha while Aela went down to the dungeons to see Anakin. He wept when he saw her, "My beautiful girl. I'm so sorry," he cried. She used the force to test him and saw his feelings were real.

Over the next few days, she spent all hours with him, showing him the last ten years through her eyes with the force. He saw the little boy she gave birth to, before realizing he was his son. Then he saw Padme, now his deepest regret, dying from childbirth after having twins. He then saw Aela raising them.

"What are their names?" He whispered.

"Bodhi, Luke, and Leia. They're all gifted with the force. They all adore you, from the stories I've told them."

Anakin frowned, "Do they know what I've done?"

"Bodhi does. But he forgave you a long time ago."

"Aela, my heart, please let me meet my children," he begged.

She agreed, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was a mistake. Only time would tell.

[burningrosesbythesea]

Family bonding :)

previous

beginning

Words: 1001

The entire warehouse looked as if a herd of elephants stormed in. Anything that didn’t happen to be strapped or bolted onto the floor was scattered all over the room, creating a terrible mess that made it hard to find Terry, Cindy, and Milo. 

“Damn,” Spoiler murmured, shifting through the wreckage surrounding the machine (which currently lay in a state of disrepair of exposed wires, melted metal, and oozing radiation). “This is terribly built machine.”

“You can say that again.” Reaper chirped through the comlink, “I found the blueprints of this thing. This thing is a laser–”

“Are you saying my brother got vaporized?!” Robin shrieked, “Oh God! What am I going to tell my mom?! Do I hand her Terry’s ashes?!” he frantically began to search through the mess for the remains of his brother. 

Spoiler gently grabbed Matthew by the shoulders and pulled him close to her before wrapping her arms around him, “Chill Matt-Bat,” 

“As I was saying–” Reaper continued, “the laser should’ve stopped lasering the moment the ray made any contact with organic material.”

“Well, seeing as the entire warehouse is covered in radiation, I don’t think the laser lasered right.” Spoiler commented. 

“There could’ve been an explosion,” Robin retorted mournfully, pointing at the destroyed laser. 

“If there happened to be an explosion, the entire warehouse would have been blown to bits.”

The preteen paused, taking the information into consideration. 

“The laser malfunctioned,” Spoiler concluded. 

“Which means Terry, Cin, and Milo are alive.”

Matt's knees nearly gave out in relief, “Great. Where are they? Did they find their way back to the Batcave?”

“Bruce would’ve told us if they were with him,” Spoiler pointed out, fishing out a Batarang from the wreckage. 

“Something’s off,” Reaper murmured, “I’m going to regroup with you then we’re going to Tim’s. He’s smart enough to know what went wrong with this thing.”

“Shouldn’t you tell Damian that Milo and Cindy are missing before he finds out himself?” Spoiler queried. 

Reaper inhaled sharply, “I wouldn’t want to stress him out more than he already is.”

Matt knew that was code for: “My husband is like five minutes away from killing someone and I really don’t want him to do that.” 

“Yikes. Welp, to Tim’s we go.”

. . . . 

“How come I’m not the favorite?!” Dick whined, watching mournfully as the time-travelers fawn over Jason. 

Damian clicked his tongue, “Are you sure that they’re related to us, Father?”

Bruce grunted, “I checked Milo’s DNA, he’s my grandson.”

“Grandson?” Cass chirped from the corner, her dark eyes glinting with curiosity. 

“Who’s the father?” Jason asked, continuing the rest of Cass’s unsaid question. He stared at Milo strangely. 

“Alfred and I have our suspicions.” Bruce mused, glancing over to Damian. 

Terry sat by Cassandra, wearing Jason’s helmet. “This is so fucking cool.” 

“Language, Master Terry.” Alfred chided, placing the leftover cookies in the cookie jar.

“Sorry Alfred.” 

Cassandra nodded in agreement, “Makes voice scary.”

“How do you even turn on the voice modifier?” Cindy wondered. She got up from her seat and walked over to Terry and Cass. “Hey, Auntie.”

Cass beamed. 

“There’s a little switch– hold on, I’ll show you.” Jason gently passed Milo to Dick before walking over to the corner. 

“Who’s Batman in the future?” Dick asked the boy. 

Milo’s face scrunched up, “I don’t think there’s any harm in telling you…” 

“Terry was the one in the other Batman suit, correct?” Damian commented. 

“He’s Batman of Gotham, but Cassandra is also Batman– er, well Batwoman but you get the idea.” 

A happy gasp rang out from the corner. 

“Should’ve seen that coming…” Bruce mumbled. 

Alfred softly chuckled, “Now don’t make that face Master Damian, I’m sure the future has something great planned out for you” 

The pouting 12-year-old looked at Milo, who now stood beside him. “So who am I in the future?”

Milo politely ignored his question. 

“Welp, I’m going to return to my apartment, Bab’s probably waiting for me.” Dick announced, grabbing his coat and ruffling Damian’s hair, “You coming, Jay?” 

“Yeah, I have a thing with the Outlaws tomorrow,” Jason responded, getting up from his spot and cracking his back. 

Terry sadly gave Jason his helmet back, “It was nice seeing you.” he said. 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry Batman of the Future.” the older man joked. 

Terry smiled back, “Sure, and visit Bruce more. He becomes a grumpy old man later in life.”

“Sure sounds like him,” Dick snickered, opening the door for Jason and closing it behind him; hence, leaving Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Cass, Milo, Terry, and Cindy alone. 

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I’m not that grumpy, right?” he asked Alfred. 

“I will neither confirm nor deny that information Master Bruce.” the butler hummed. 

Cindy yawned, “I’m beat. Do you guys stay up all night or–?”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Damian growled. 

The siblings shared a knowing glance that easily translated to: “Since when did he become a stickler for bedtime?”

“I’m fairly sure some of Miss Stephanie’s clothes will fit you, Miss Cindy. As well, I think Master Milo and Master Damian are of similar size–”

Damian interrupted Alfred’s train of thought with a sharp Tt.

“And Master Terry could fit into some of Master Dick’s clothes. I shall see what I can do.”

Cass latched onto Cindy’s arm, “Share room.”

“She seems fond of you,” Terry commented.

“I was her Robin for like– 3 years?” Cindy retorted. 

Cass grinned widely, “Robin?”

“Yeah, I lasted wayyyy longer than Milo.”

“It was for a year.” the boy hissed, his face red, “And I thought we agreed that we weren’t supposed to tell anyone about their future!”

“You started it!” Cindy protested. 

“How could either of you two be Robin?” Damian asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the two. 

“Not now Da–” Milo coughed loudly, trying to cover up his mistake. 

Terry loudly clapped his hands together, “We should get some sleep.” 

Bruce sighed, “This is going to be a long night.” he muttered, rubbing his temples.