#clearly obi-wan turned to the dark side

[disastertriowriting]

Padme: Man, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them? Anakin, watching Lux screaming, Obi-Wan trying to set a sleeping Satine on fire, and Ahsoka choking on air: I don't know either.

[phoenixkaptain]

I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.

I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.

Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.

Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.

Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.

I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?

Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.

Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.

Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.

Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.

If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—

There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!

Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.

[luveline]

hi! i hope you’re doing well! could i please request a little something about hotch coming home from a case to non bau!reader and jack watching star wars, just bonding and being cute. he wants to hug you both so bad cause he missed you and loves you but he doesn’t want to interrupt your moment

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

You drop your head back into the cushions to avoid getting whacked in the chin with Jack’s forehead. “Woah,” you say, laughing as a wave of buttery yellow popcorn kernels drop onto the floor. “Good thing we have hardwood.” 

“Why?”

You grab a handful of popcorn to eat from the bowl. “‘Cos all I’ve done today is make a huge mess.” 

Hotch smiles from the doorway. It’s dark in the house, and the music blaring from the television has occluded his arrival. You’ve no idea he’s watching you now, and you don’t act much differently than if his presence was announced. In fact, he’d say that sometimes you’re so focused on not overstepping your place in Jack's life that you restrain yourself. 

Butter and comfort alike has loosened the reins. You cuddle Jack to your side, the two of you laying across the long sofa with a faux rabbit fur throw wrapped around your two bodies, his head nestled under your chin. Your arm is around his tummy, belting him to you while blue light flashes over your faces. Lightsabers paint your eyes, their zinging and humming near painful in his bad ear. 

“Who’s side are we on again?” you tease. It’s subtle, but Hotch knows you’re joking. 

“Oh my gosh,” Jack says, “you forgot again? That one,” —he points at the screen— “that’s Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

“And we’re team Obi Wan?” 

“Yes, of course.” 

“Of course,” you echo, clearly finding him funny. “But the other one is more handsome, don’t you think?” 

“Am I handsome?” 

“Jack, you are the most handsome.” You stroke his hair back and encourage him to meet your eyes. “You’re so, so handsome, babe, you’re beautiful, and so smart, and so awesome. You’d wipe the floor with Obi Wan Kenobi.” 

Jack manages a reproach through his bashful smile, “I wouldn’t fight him, he’s the good guy. I would fight him.”

“Hmm.” You grab some popcorn from the bowl in front of Jack and eat a few pieces, then offer it to Jack. “I wouldn’t fight him. He’s too pretty.” 

“He’s evil.” 

“He doesn’t look evil.” 

Jack laughs and turns to you completely. “You’re funny. People don’t look evil, they just are sometimes.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just confused because all the good people in my life are beautiful.” You hug him behind his shoulders, looking at him with all the love in the world. “You’re a great example. You’re handsome, so how am I supposed to know you might be evil?” 

“You have to be careful,” Jack says sincerely. 

“Baby, I am. I promise I am.” Your eyes squint closed with your gentle smile, your noses almost touching. “I’m just kidding with you. I love having jokes with you.” 

“I love having jokes with you.” Jack gives you a quick hug, arms tight behind your head and his face nuzzling your collar. “Thanks.” 

“Thanks! Oh, you’re welcome, you don’t have to say thanks!”

“Well…” Jack pulls away, shrugging as you manoeuvre him bodily into a more comfortable position beside you. “I just think you should fight Anakin because he’s not kind, even if you think he’s handsome.” He says handsome with all the intonation of a boy discovering cooties for the first time. 

You shrug, eat another handful of popcorn, and seemingly see the light. “Alright, I’d fight him. I suppose I already have your dad, right? I don’t need any more handsome men in my life. Two is enough.” 

“Yeah,” Hotch says, flicking on the light, “I’d say so.” 

Jack jumps, upending another wave of popcorn onto the floor. You grab the bowl, and Jack has enough wits about him to hop over the spilled kernels rather than crush them as he presents himself to Hotch for hugging. 

“Hi!” Jack says. 

He’s getting longer. It takes Hotch more effort than it ever used to to pick him up and pat his back. “Hi, buddy. Nice jammies, those are new ones. Is Y/N giving you gifts again?” 

“She always gives me gifts.” 

“I’m buying your love,” you say, shielding your eyes from the glare of the big light. 

“I love it,” Jack says. 

Hotch puts him back down on the ground with a kiss. “You should. Did you have a good day? Sorry I was working, I missed our Saturday.” 

“Dad, it’s okay, you always work. We went to the store and we got candy, and now we’re watching Star Wars and you’re back, so it’s okay.” Jack beams and puts his hands behind his back. “Will you watch it too?” 

“Sure, buddy, I just have to wash up. Did you have dinner?” 

“Y/N made me lasagna from scratch, even the pasta,” Jack says. 

He sounds deeply, sincerely loved. His pride at having you put time and care into the meal is evident, and Hotch knows that he and Jack are incredibly lucky to have you and to have Jack be able to experience it. Something as nondescript as dinner can make all the difference. 

You sit on the couch still, a touch bashful. “It didn’t take long.” 

“Was it delicious?” Hotch asks Jack. 

Jack nods hard enough to hurt his neck, head bobbing up and down. “The best!” 

“Well, she deserves a good thank you, huh? For taking such good care of you today?” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “What should we do for her, in return? Did you have dessert?” 

“No,” Jack whispers back. 

Alright, then that’s what they’ll do. You treat Jack like he’s a found treasure, and you love Hotch as easily as breathing. Hotch takes Jack’s smaller hand in his and gives you a look that promises the world’s most squeezing hug after they’ve procured dessert. “Can you pause the movie, honey?” he asks you. “We’ll be right back.” 

You shake your head at him, but your smile isn’t easy to hide. “Your dinner’s under the grill,” you say. 

He adores you more, somehow. “Thank you.” 

[shrenvents]

My Bounty.

Warnings: Smut. Vaginal, unprotected sex, force play. Minors dni

Pairing: Clone Wars (single) Anakin Skywalker x Bounty Hunter reader

Summary: Anakin Skywalker goes above and beyond to make your life difficult, taking whatever he wants without explanation. So when reader confronts him, things don’t go exactly as planned.

Word count: 1.7k

…

The meddling nature of the Jedi was nothing compared to the nature of Anakin Skywalker. His darkness seeps its way into everything. His dark robe, gloves, boots, curls, eyes. He was the darkness enveloping me in a dizzying spiral of hate and desire. And he did it again. He stole my bounty just so he could give me that dark look.

His gaze observes the way my fists clench and how I chew my bottom lip. A wicked smirk dances on his face as clones praise and pat him on the back. He knew exactly what he was doing, watching me with an intensity, that had me shaking.

Finally, Anakin’s eyes move away from my figure, beckoned by his Master. He stalks towards Obi-Wan Kenobi and his mocking facade breaks instantly. I nearly scream at the sight. What was he hoping to achieve? Stealing my potential profits is certainly an interesting pastime, not one you would expect from “the chosen one.”

I huff out my frustration, deflating my tense shoulders. With his back now turned, I relax. Pivoting on my heel, I hurry away from the scene. On to the next hunt, before Skywalker gets the chance to take it from me.

Frankly, I have no clue how it started, his fixation with making me miserable. I almost feel paranoid, as if I’m making up the whole debacle. But from the way he looks at me, unspeaking, I know this truly is my reality. Anakin Skywalker hates me.

...

Now glaring at my reflection within the confines of my room, my restraint runs thin. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m not gonna do it. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna confront him because that sort of thing always goes well.

I head out towards the Jedi temple where Skywalker is most likely training his Padawan. While marching over, I contemplate the arguments I will bring up when face-to-face with him. How I will look into those comet-like eyes and not get distracted by his plump lips.

Moral of the story, I’m going to put an end to this one-sided game we play.

Once my vision connects with his broad back, his name escapes me without hesitation, “Anakin.” Saying it takes me by surprise, seeing as though I’ve never said it before. But clearly, it shocks him more, as when he turns around, his eyes are vaguely wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Y/n,” he says back flatly, face becoming neutral. Now I’m really taken aback by the way my name rolls off his tongue. Quickly, I collect myself and remember my well-thought-out points.

“What are you doing?” And out the window they go.

Anakin quirks his head quizzically. His silent reply to my rather stupid question ticks me off further. I’m practically vibrating with rage. “That was my mark you stole today Skywalker, you realize that?”

As if he’s finally understood my inarticulate speech, his lips part dumbly in “awe.” There he goes pushing my buttons, silently watching me unravel. “You think I wouldn’t notice?“ My face flushes red as I elaborate. “All the crooks you’ve miraculously caught are always the bounty that I’m after.”

There's a beat of silence where he inspects the way my chest heaves in exasperation. Then he speaks. “About time you did.” He states matter-of-factly. My jaw drops. “Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve been waiting for you to notice,” he remarks with a bored look.

“Notice what?” I spit out, scowling at him.

“Me,” he finishes plainly. Silence engulfs us again and I take note of how close we’ve become. “Why would you want that?” I question, utterly perplexed.

“What do you mean?” Anakin’s brows furrow.

“I mean you’ve never spoken to me before.”

“Neither have you.” He counters. My fists tremble.

“Why then? Why do you need me to notice you?” I demand.

“What other reason can there be?” He grumbles while giving me a once-over, and then something clicks. My face falls.

“Those looks you give me-”

“Say just how much I want you, more than words ever could.” He ends my sentence, his face remaining stoic. My heart hammers wildly. I suspect he’s now waiting for me to make a move, to say anything, maybe even reject him. Instead, I hastily circle my head around, surveilling for bystanders before frantically grasping at his robe and pushing him into a nearby room. His facade flatters once again and I see puzzlement consume his face.

After I awkwardly turn the door knob and take us into the empty room, I shove him away. Anakin staggers back, looking completely disoriented, almost regretful. “Y/n?” He trails off. My anger is radiating off my body, and I know he can feel it.

“You should’ve said something,” I assert, seething.

“I’m-“ Anakin is abruptly cut off by my lips smashing against his. With my arms reaching around his neck, I can feel his body freeze. After a short moment, I start to peel away, dejected by his stillness. But Anakin instantly chases after me, no longer shying away.

He gropes my waist, and one arm pulls around it, while the other slides up my spine to rest between my shoulder blades. A moan evades my throat and is met with a deep groan.

His palms carve out my figure and fist at my clothes. Whines rush out my mouth as his tongue mingles with mine. He vigorously makes work of me, and I have to pull away. Though his lips instinctively follow me, I’m out of reach, so he settles for my neck. Sucking fervently, one may fear the spots he’s making, but in this moment, truthfully, I couldn't care less.

“Ani,” I whimper, and he growls against my nape in response. “Fuck, I need you,” I whisper. I feel his movements lurch and he mumbles something, but I can't seem to hear it over my haggard breathing.

He tears himself away from my neck, still keeping my body pressed against his. He then shifts his gaze around the room. “There’s no furniture here, I’ll just have to fuck you standing.” An audible gasp flees my mouth as Anakin slings my body around his torso, legs straddling his hips. His hands clench around my thighs as he hoists me up, securing me in place.

Fortunately, the short gown I threw on this morning made it easy for Anakin's crotch to caress my core through his pants. I push down on him and he groans at our proximity. "I was wondering when you would snap," Anakin mutters into my ear as his grip tightens. I whimper. "Screw you."

"Be patient. You will." He soothes. Digging my front teeth into my bottom lip, I drop my forehead to his shoulder as our lower halves grind against one another.

The sounds of our moans crowd the room and I can't take it anymore. "Kriff patience, I'm done waiting, General," I command in the most sensual voice I can muster. Evidently, my attempt to provoke him works because one of his hands leaves my thigh and clutches my hair in a fist, tugging my head back so his lips can crash into mine again. His other hand shifts down to his slacks. His breath hitches when he releases his cock, and so does mine when it springs up to my clothed clit. "Oh maker," I just about scream, head falling back.

His hands make quick work moving my underwear aside, and his member brushes against my folds. I shudder and screw my eyelids shut. I feel Anakin's gaze fixate on me. "Look at me." Hearing his order, I immediately obey.

Eyes fluttering open, I look into his lust-filled ones. Getting flustered by their heat, I squirm. "Y/n." He hushes, breath blowing across my face. Glancing at his features briefly, I nod, communicating what we both desperately need.

We both hold our breaths as he brings me down on his length in a slow glide. His cock pierces my entrance, and I clamp down on my incoming yelp. He was big. I hear him distractedly repeat my name, face buried in my collar. My eyes look to the ceiling in prayer.

His movements dissipate midway, and I feel his stomach clench. "You take me so well." He mumbles almost to himself. All I can do is bob my head in response. In this short pause, the pain disperses and all I feel is him - pleasure, darkness. His arms snake around my waist while mine harden around his nape.

Suddenly, he plunges into me, filling me up completely. My cry echoes throughout the room and I instantly sink my teeth into the cartilage of his ear. The growl that leaves him is next to primal. His rhythmic pounding begins to pick up speed, and I can barely keep up with each stroke. "Kiss me," he stammers out. Reeling back, I lock eyes with him before diving my tongue into his mouth.

His hips snap into my own, over and over. His stomach clenches once more and he pants into my mouth, "I'm close." Though I feel incredible, I'm not quite close to my limit, and he senses it.

One of his palms unravels from my body, steadily hovering over my center. Thinking he's going to touch me, I arch my back away from his embrace to allow space for his digits to meet my clit. But, as I wait, an unexpected pressure attacks my core. I gasp away from his lips and I peer down, leaning my forehead on his.

His hand isn't physically touching me, yet I feel as though I'm close to climaxing. Bewildered, I shoot my eyes from his floating hand to his lewd expression. His grin is strangely smug as he watches me. Then it registers: he's using the force to make me cum. Completely stunned, I simply bore my eyes into him, mouth agape.

Our orgasms come at once and wash over us at his charge. He puffs out a loud sigh of relief and continues to hold me, pumping slower than before, til the action ceases.

"Maker," I huff, "Next time, just use your words, and I'm yours." A smile forms on his face. He sheepishly nods, "Next time."

[comicaurora]

top three changes to the star wars franchise?

Like, top three things I would change if I was in charge of the franchise top to bottom?

This is Big Cheating calling it "one change", but scrap the prequels. The original trilogy already implied an incredibly simple by-the-numbers dark fantasy origin story for Obi-Wan and Anakin and if we strip away the space veneer we can easily see that Anakin's original backstory was implied to be "prodigy warrior-wizard is tempted by dark magic (and an established evil sorcerer-emperor who has clearly been in power for more than a scant 18 years by the time of the original trilogy) which slowly corrupts and twists him into a monster who eventually has a fight with obi-wan that he loses, also he has a relationship with a woman who survives to raise Leia for at least a few years". Those are the only points you need to hit, and you could tell a very compelling simple-meal-well-made sword and sorcery adventure with a guaranteed tragic ending. The original prequels fail at holding to the ONLY points of canon they needed to hit - the innately corruptive power of the dark side SLOWLY leading to Anakin's downfall, the empire being an existing threat for a long time and the jedi correspondingly being an ANCIENT religion rather than being less ancient than 9/11, and Padme being alive enough for Leia to remember her a little bit. Close your eyes, clear your mind, let the tropes flow through you - a By-The-Numbers Story will come to you and you will see the completely inoffensive prequel tragedy we could've had. Also, never show Yoda, preserve the fun twist in the original movies.

Easy change for this one. Finn's a force-user with a plot about inspiring a stormtrooper rebellion, another plot that literally writes itself, also let the sequel trio actually all hang out for more than five fuckin minutes because the only thing that ever made Star Wars work was the raw charisma of the actors having a good time and the chemistry was really solid for the only time in the final movie they were allowed to share screentime.

And while we're gutting the sequels, how about letting the hero's victories actually fucking matter. Luke gets to actually reinvigorate the jedi way and doesn't have all his victories ripped away in the name of sequel bait, and can serve as an extremely powerful but very busy Jedi Ex Machina who turns up in the darkest hour to save the day, Mandalorian-s1-finale style. The Empire doesn't just get magically replaced with Empire 2, Now With Less Charisma, let the threat be something actually new or a natural consequence of a newly liberated galaxy in sudden turmoil - feudal tyrants ruling over planetary fiefdoms squabbling to fill the Emperor's power-vacuum, more sith lords coming out of the woodwork now that their greatest rival is gone. Leia and the other rebel leaders struggling to reinstate some semblance of democracy in a scarred and shattered galaxy too accustomed to the crushing totalitarianism of the empire. How goddamn unoriginal to start a sequel by undoing every happy ending from the original series for retreaded drama, as if the universe could only ever hold three problems in it.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Nine: Sacrifice

Chapter WC: 7,533

Chapter Tags/Warnings: canon-typical violence

A/N: We're getting somewhere! Kinda!

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Felucia, 21 BBY

Morning comes, and with it, a new day, and a new wave of attacks. You're woken early by the sounds of the blaster fire, the shouts and screams of the men echoing through the jungle. There's barely enough time to get your armor on before you're running out into the battlefield, lightsabers already ignited. The same thing happens the next day, and the next.

On the third day, you find yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with Rex, the two of you fighting a retreating battle. The droids are advancing, and you're struggling to hold them off. This part of the planet is sparser than the others, with giant blooms acting as cover. You and Rex are crouched behind a particularly large flower, its petals the size of a star cruiser.

"This is a bad position," Rex yells over the sound of the battle.

"I know!" you shout back, and you duck down, the blast narrowly missing your head.

"What are your orders?"

You curse, and you reach out, your mind searching for the other Jedi. You connect with Obi-Wan almost instantaneously, the bond thrumming between the two of you, and you realize he's reaching for you too. The feeling of his presence washes over you, and his thoughts flood your mind, the concern and the urgency bleeding into your own emotions.

"We're falling back to your position," Obi-Wan tells you. "Hold your ground until we get there."

"Understood," you reply, and the connection is severed, the bond dissolving. You open your eyes and turn to Rex, the worry etched on your face. "We're not going anywhere."

"Yes, sir," he says, and he rises and shoots, taking out several of the droids, the bolts slamming into the metal bodies. They collapse in a pile of twisted metal, but the others continue their approach, unphased. Rex curses and ducks back down. "This isn't going to be easy."

"Nothing ever is," you mutter. "Cover me."

"What are you—" He cuts himself off when he realizes you're already gone. You rush forward, throwing your shoto in an arc as you leap over the droids. The blade slices through them like butter, and they fall, the clattering sound filling the air. You land on the other side and turn, the saber returning to your hand. 

The droids have turned their attention to you, and you can hear Rex shouting. You ignore him, and the incoming shots, and you charge, lightsabers swinging. The frustration and the panic fuel you to keep fighting, to push forward, to win. The rage burns hotter with each passing second, and the darkness at the edge of your consciousness threatens to engulf you. You fight against the urge, pushing it back, but the control is slipping through your fingers.

And then, just as suddenly, the pressure is released, and the energy around you changes. You don't have to look to know who has arrived, but you do anyway, watching as Obi-Wan and Anakin descend upon the droids, their blades flashing in the sunlight. They cut through the metal army, and you take the opportunity to catch your breath, the first respite you've had in what feels like hours.

"You good?" Anakin asks as he stops next to you, and he glances at the carnage, his eyes wide.

"Yeah," you pant. "You?"

He gives you a look that clearly communicates how ridiculous a question it is. "Are you serious?"

"Sorry," you huff. "Forgot who I was talking to."

Anakin smirks and looks at Obi-Wan, who's still slashing through the droids, his blade a blur. "You think he needs any help?"

You shake your head. "He seems fine to me."

Obi-Wan's movements are swift and precise, and there's a ferocity, a desperation, to them that has your eyebrows raising. He's cutting down the droids like they're made of paper, and there's a fire in his eyes, the anger visible. You can't help but wonder what happened, what triggered his sudden surge of aggression, and you make a note to ask him later. But for now, you focus on keeping up, on staying alive.

Anakin and Obi-Wan hold the front of the line, and you let them, keeping your attention on the forces trying to flank. Ahsoka is still off with a small contingent, sent away to patrol the jungle, much to her displeasure. You'd tried to argue on her behalf, but Anakin had insisted, and in the end, she'd left, a sullen expression on her face. You can only pray she's faring better than the rest of you.

You push that thought away, and you turn, lightsaber swinging. A blast hits the ground near your feet, and you curse, the dirt and smoke kicking up. You lunge, and your blade sinks into the droid, the metal melting under the heat. It collapses, and you pull your blade free, the metal glowing red. The others keep firing, and you duck and roll, the bolts whizzing over your head.

The battle rages on, and the minutes bleed together, the blood pounding in your ears and your lungs burning. The exhaustion is creeping in, and you're struggling to hold onto the hope that you'll survive this. 

Every night since you've arrived, you've had the same nightmare, and every night, you wake up, gasping and sweating. You don't remember what it was about, but the feeling of dread lingers, and the sense of foreboding weighs heavily on you. And, even though the sun is shining, and the air is warm, the chill hasn't left you, and you're afraid. Afraid that something terrible is coming, that something is going to happen. You're not sure if it's the Force or the fatigue or the stress, but the feeling has grown, and it's getting harder to ignore.

You try to put the thoughts aside, to focus on the battle, but the unease refuses to fade. You can feel it in the air, and in the energy around you. The battle is turning, and you can sense it, the shift in the tide. 

"We have to move," Rex says over the comm, his voice firm. "We're exposed."

"Rex is right," you tell Anakin. "We can't hold this position."

Anakin curses, and he glances over, his gaze finding yours. His eyes are wild, and his breathing is ragged, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. You know he doesn't want to retreat any more than you do, but it's the only option, and the both of you know it. You hold his gaze, and you nod, the understanding passing between the two of you.

"Fall back," he orders, and the words echo through the comms. "We're retreating."

The men are reluctant to abandon their positions, and there's a murmur of protest, but they obey, moving back in a steady retreat. You fall back with them, keeping an eye on the enemy, and on Anakin and Obi-Wan. The battle continues to rage, and the droids are relentless, pursuing you even as the clones shoot them down.

"The 104th has broken through the blockade," Cody reports over the comms. "They're en route to the surface."

The news is a welcome relief, and the anxiety in your chest eases, if only slightly. It's taken them far too long to reach you, and you know that it's no longer a matter of reinforcement, but of evacuation. The battle is lost, and you need to get off the planet, and soon. If not, you'll be trapped, and you'll all die. It's a reality you can't afford to ignore.

"It's about damn time," Anakin growls. "I was starting to think the Council had forgotten about us."

"Don't count on their help just yet," Obi-Wan responds grimly. "If things are as bad as we think they are, then the 104th won't be able to hold the line for long."

"So what's the plan?" you ask, your eyes focused on the approaching droids, and the destruction they're leaving in their wake. The jungle is burning, the smell of smoke and ash heavy in the air. You can't see far, but you know that the planet will not recover, not after this. Everything is on fire, and the heat is intense, the flames licking the sky. "We can't wait much longer."

"I'm aware," Obi-Wan snaps. He seems to think the better of it immediately, and his voice softens. "For now, we keep moving, and we get as many men out of here as we can. That's our priority."

"Then, what?"

"We'll figure it out."

"Fine," you huff, and you turn, throwing yourself into the fight. Your lightsabers flash, and you cut down the droids, their metal bodies falling at your feet. You're not sure how long you fight, but you push through the exhaustion, and the pain, and the fear. You focus on surviving, on staying alive, and the minutes pass in a blur.

You can't help but wonder how many times you're going to have to fight these battles, how many lives will be lost before the Republic finally ends the war. And you're beginning to realize that there's no end in sight. You've been fighting for months, and the conflict seems to be escalating. The stakes are higher, the losses more devastating. You can't keep doing this, and yet, there's no choice.

The battle rages, and the minutes drag by. You've fallen back to Rex's side at the feet of an AT-TE, its cannons firing and its legs stomping down droids as the enemy tries to advance. You're barely able to keep your focus, your body aching and your mind exhausted. All you can think about is the men who have died, the lives that have been lost, the pointless nature of it all. The frustration, and the despair, are overwhelming, and you're barely able to keep it together.

"Rex," you call out. "Have you heard from Ahsoka?"

"No," he replies. "The last I heard, she was engaged in combat, and was trying to regroup."

The worry settles in, and you can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Whatever it is, it can't be good. Your eyes scan the battlefield, and the anxiety grows. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of burning metal, and it's hard to see through the haze. "And the 104th?"

"They're en route," he says. His voice is calm despite the chaos around you, and you try to focus on it, to channel his energy, but it's not working. "ETA is five minutes."

"That's too long," you mutter, shaking your head. Your breath catches in your throat, and the panic rises, the feeling of impending doom growing stronger. "Something's not right. We need to get out of here."

"What?"

"I don't know," you admit, and you glance at Rex, your eyes meeting through the visor of his helmet. "They need to get here now."

"What's wrong?" he asks as he takes a step towards you. The concern radiates off him, and the intensity of his stare, even through the helmet, is overwhelming. "Talk to me."

"I'm not sure," you reply, and you swallow. You've never felt this way before, and it's making it hard to concentrate. You barely manage to dodge a blaster shot, and Rex swears, pulling you behind the tank.

“Sir, you need to focus," Rex tells you, his tone urgent. "I need you here, and not wherever you are right now."

You nod, and you take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself, but the worry is still there. You're not sure what's causing it, and the uncertainty is almost worse, the anxiety clawing at your chest.

"It's alright," he soothes. "We'll figure it out, but you have to stay focused."

"I can't," you whisper, your eyes wide and your hands shaking. You can't get your heart rate under control, and you can feel the sweat running down your neck, the tremors wracking your body. It's as if someone has reached into your chest and squeezed the air from your lungs. It's like someone is standing over you, watching, waiting. "I can't, Rex."

"Hey, it's okay," he reassures, and his voice is calm, the sound a balm to your senses. "We'll get through this, and we'll get everyone out of here. I promise."

You want to believe him, and you're desperately clinging to his words, to the strength of his voice, to the warmth of his hand. You nod, and you try to slow your breathing, to force the panic down. You can't break, not now, not when there are so many lives depending on you. Not when you're needed.

"I'm okay," you say, more to yourself than anyone, and you straighten, your lightsabers igniting. "I'm fine."

The words are hollow, and you're not sure if you believe them, but you have no other choice. Rex lets go of your arm, and you're surprised, your brow furrowing. You hadn't even realized he was still holding you. He doesn't apologize, and he doesn't give any indication that anything happened, but you can sense his concern, his fear. He's worried about you, and the guilt settles in. You have no idea what's going on, but it's obviously affecting you more than you'd thought.

"Rex, I'm..." You trail off, unsure of what to say, and you let out a shaky breath, the anxiety rising. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he tells you, his voice soft despite how loud the battle is. "Just...be careful, sir. Please."

"I will."

His helmet is still turned towards you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be fine, that he has nothing to worry about. But the words are stuck in your throat, and the lie won't come.

And then you look up.

There’s barely enough time to react as the burning remains of a Vulture droid hurdle toward you, its engine roaring and the smoke billowing. You're not sure how it made it past the AT-TE's defenses, or why the ship isn't firing, but you have no time to think. 

You push with all your might, using the Force to send Rex flying out of the path of the falling droid. It crashes to the ground and explodes, sending dirt and debris into the air, the shock wave reverberating. The explosion knocks you off your feet, and you're thrown several meters away. The pain shoots through your body as you slam into the ground, and your lightsabers fly out of your hands, the blades blinking out of existence as they skid across the dirt. Your head smashes against the hard surface, and you roll a few times before coming to a stop, dazed.

The world is spinning, and you're struggling to get your bearings, your vision blurry and dark. There's a ringing in your ears, and you can't hear anything else, not even the sound of the battle. All you can see is the burning wreckage, and the thick, black smoke. You cough, the air filled with the acrid scent of burning metal and plastic. Your entire body aches, and you're having a hard time catching your breath.

You feel something warm and sticky trickling down your face, and you lift your hand to wipe it away. When you pull it back, your palm is stained with blood, and you're momentarily confused, your thoughts disjointed and scattered. Then, the realization sets in, and the panic returns. You try to stand, but your legs give out, and you collapse, your body hitting the ground with a thud.

Everything hurts, and the ringing is getting louder, and all you can think about is the blood on your hands, and the burning droid, and Rex. You need to find Rex, to make sure he's okay, to get him to safety. You need to—

There's a shadow in front of you, and it takes a moment for your eyes to focus, the image swimming in your vision. When it finally does, you see Rex kneeling over you, his helmet gone and his face covered in dirt. 

He's shouting something, but you can't hear him, the words garbled and distorted. His expression is panicked, and his eyes are wide, his mouth moving rapidly. You can see the fear in his gaze, and you try to respond, but the words are stuck in your throat. You want to tell him that you're fine, that everything is going to be okay, but you can't.

All you can do is watch as he slips his arms under your body and lifts you. You try to protest, but the words come out as a moan, the sound weak and pained. Rex doesn't seem to notice, and he holds you tightly against his chest as he begins to run. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his armor, and you press your face into his neck, tears stinging your eyes. You don't know where he's taking you, or what he's going to do, but you trust him, and you have no other choice.

The pain is becoming too much to bear, and you close your eyes, letting the darkness take over.

The last thing you hear is Rex shouting your name. And then, nothing.

Hyperspace, 21 BBY

Your eyes fly open, and you gasp for air, your body lurching forward violently. A scream dies on your lips, and you fall, your knees hitting the floor of the ship with a thud. You can feel the cold, hard metal against your palms as you grip the edge of the table in front of you, the blood roaring in your ears. 

You try to steady your breathing, but the fear, and the panic, are threatening to consume you. You can't get the images out of your mind. You can't get the feeling of the pain, or the heat of the flames, out of your body. You can't forget the smell of the burning jungle, or the sounds of the screams, or the look in Rex's eyes as he held you.

The tears sting, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to force them back. When you open them again, you wince as the lights of the medbay assault your senses. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, and when they do, you see the sterile, white walls, and the curtain drawn around you, and the bacta patches on your arms and legs. 

You blink, and the reality sinks in. You're on the floor next to a hospital bed, on a Republic cruiser, somewhere in the vastness of space. And you're alive.

A voice calls your name, and you turn to see Obi-Wan rushing toward you, his robes billowing behind him. You try to stand, but your legs give out, and you collapse. Your body is wracked with tremors that won’t still, and your vision is blurred, the colors bleeding together. Only then do you realize you’re crying, tears rolling down your cheeks, hot and fast.

"Easy," Obi-Wan soothes as he crouches down next to you. He gently lifts you and places you back on the bed. His eyes are wide and filled with worry, his hands gripping your arms tightly, and he takes a moment to examine you. You can feel the panic, and the fear, emanating from him, and you swallow, trying to control your emotions, to reign in the chaos that is consuming your thoughts. 

"Just breathe, my dear," he says. His voice is gentle, and he's still looking at you, his eyes searching yours. "Breathe."

You inhale, and the air fills your lungs, the oxygen soothing the ache in your chest. The tears fall harder, and you let them, too exhausted to fight, and too tired to care. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind, and he doesn't push you to stop. He pulls you into his arms, and he holds you, his chin resting on the top of your head. You bury your face into his shoulder, and you clutch his robe, your fingers twisting in the fabric. He whispers soft words of comfort, his hand moving in slow, steady circles on your back. His touch is familiar, and you allow yourself to lean into him, to let him take some of the weight.

You're not sure how long you sit there, lost in the warmth of his embrace. But, eventually, the tears subside, and your breathing evens, and you feel a little less broken. He seems to sense the change, and he pulls back, his eyes finding yours. He brushes the hair out of your face, his fingers tender.

"Better?" he asks. You nod, and he smiles, the relief washing over his features. "Good. I was afraid we were going to have to sedate you."

The joke is unexpected, and you huff a small laugh, the sound coming out as a choked sob.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, your voice hoarse. You're not sure what you're apologizing for, or why, but the words come out anyway. "I don't...I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan frowns, his brow furrowing, and his gaze grows serious, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about? There's nothing to be sorry for." He pauses, and the silence stretches, his eyes searching yours.

"Do you know where you are?" he asks after a moment.

You nod again, and his frown deepens, the worry still present.

"And do you know why you're here?"

Another nod. "I got hurt. During the battle."

He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes, you did,” he says slowly. He hesitates, and he seems to debate what he wants to say, the silence heavy between the two of you. You know he's concerned, and he has every right to be. You know what he's going to ask, and the question hangs in the air, the answer on the tip of your tongue. But the words won't come, and you're afraid, the fear still lingering. And so, you remain silent, and you wait, the tension mounting.

"Tell me what happened," Obi-Wan finally says, his voice quiet. He doesn't sound angry, or upset, just curious, and a little apprehensive. "Start at the beginning."

"We were retreating," you begin. Your voice is rough, and you have to force the words out, the emotions swirling in your chest. You hesitate, and he waits, giving you time. You take a deep breath, and you continue, telling him about the Vulture droid, and the explosion, and how Rex saved you. When you're finished, you look up, your gaze finding his. "And then I woke up."

Obi-Wan is silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful, his jaw clenched.

"I see," he says softly, his tone unreadable. He pulls away and sits down next to the bed, his posture rigid, his shoulders tense. You can feel the anger, and the frustration, radiating off him, and it's unnerving, the feelings so at odds with the calm demeanor he usually projects. You try to delve further, but he pushes back, blocking you, and then you feel nothing at all. 

It's not malicious, but you know it's deliberate. And it hurts. A lot. The realization of it hits you like a blow, and your eyes sting, the tears threatening to fall. You bite back the pain, and you keep your expression neutral, the mask slipping into place.

You sit there, waiting for him to speak, to say something, anything. But he doesn't. The silence stretches on, and it's suffocating, the tension building. Finally, you can't take it anymore.

"Please," you plead, the desperation creeping into your voice. "Please talk to me."

“I…” Obi-Wan pauses and shakes his head, his brow furrowed, his jaw set. 

"I don't know what to say," he admits. He rubs his face and lets out a sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I'm so tired of losing people."

The words are unexpected, and they hit you hard, the sadness weighing heavily on your heart. You hadn't realized just how much this was affecting him. You reach out, and he flinches, but he doesn't pull away, and you cover his hand with yours. The gesture is simple, but the meaning is not, the contact an anchor. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," he murmurs, and he turns his hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His eyes are bright with unshed tears, and his grip is tight, the tension visible in his posture. "So am I." 

He takes a breath and looks at you, his expression unreadable, and he seems to steel himself. "You shouldn’t have done that.”

You're taken aback by the sudden change in tone, and the anger in his voice, and your eyes widen, your head jerking back. You hadn't been expecting that.

"I didn't have a choice," you say quietly, and you try to pull your hand away, but his grip tightens, and you can't.

"You did," he counters. He's staring at you, his gaze piercing, his eyes narrowed. "You made a choice."

"Obi-Wan..."

"No," he snaps, his tone sharp, and he pulls his hand away. The sudden loss of contact sends a jolt through you, and you can't help the hurt that crosses your features. "You risked your life, and you didn't think about the consequences."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did," he interrupts, his voice rising. "You didn't think, and now, we're both here, and I'm not going to lose anyone else. I can't."

"Obi-Wan, listen to me," you insist, and your voice cracks, the emotion bleeding through. "I couldn't just let him die."

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You didn’t have to. He would've been able to move. You didn't have to push him."

You don't respond.

"You didn't have to," he repeats, and his voice breaks, the anger giving way to sorrow.

"But, I did," you whisper. You look at him, your gaze unwavering. "I couldn't let him die."

Obi-Wan falls silent. The grief, and the pain, is plain on his face, and you can't bear it.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. "But—“

"I know," he says softly. He runs a hand over his jaw, smoothing his beard, and he lets out a sigh, the weariness returning. "I know."

The silence stretches on, the minutes passing by. You sit there, watching him, the emotions playing out on his face. The frustration, and the anger, fade, and all that's left is exhaustion, a resignation.

"Why did you do it?" he finally asks. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours. "Why did you push him, when you knew that it could cost you your life?"

"I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I don’t believe you.”

You can't meet his gaze, and you focus on the ground, your fingers fidgeting with the blankets. "It doesn't matter why," you say softly. "I did what I had to do, and it worked."

Obi-Wan shakes his head and rises from his chair, his face contorted in disbelief, the hurt palpable.

"It matters to me," he tells you.

"It doesn't have to."

"It does," he insists. His eyes are hard, and his mouth is set, the determination written on his features. "There was a hundred things you could’ve done. A hundred different ways to get out of that situation. Why did you choose the one that put you at the greatest risk?"

"Because he's important."

The confession is sudden, and it catches you off guard, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. 

You don't mean to say it, and you want to take it back, but the damage is done. You're not sure why, but the truth is there, and it's out, the realization dawning on the both of you.

Obi-Wan is looking at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and understanding, and there's a softness, a fondness, in his eyes, and you know. You know he's figured it out. You can see it in his face, and in the way he's looking at you.

"Important," he repeats.

"Yes."

"Important enough to die for?"

"Yes."

He sighs and turns, his hands behind his back, his shoulders squared. He paces the length of the room, eyes fixed on the ground. He's silent for a long moment, and you watch him, waiting, the nerves rising. You know what he's thinking, and you know what he's going to say. But you don't want to hear it, and you can't stand the tension, the silence. It's too much.

"Just say it," you say. “Please."

Obi-Wan stops. He turns, and his gaze meets yours, the sadness written on his face.

"This is a dangerous path," he tells you. "One that I've walked before."

"I'm aware."

"Are you?" he asks, his eyes searching yours. "Because I don't think you are."

You don't respond, and he continues, his voice growing softer, his expression more pained. "It's not fair to him, or to yourself. And, I fear, if you're not careful, then the both of you will be paying the price."

The words sting, and they cut deep, but the truth in them is undeniable. You can't deny it, and the guilt settles in, the reality hitting you like a slap in the face. You've been selfish, and reckless, and the consequences of your actions have weighed heavily on everyone around you. And now you’ve only made things worse.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. The tears are hot on your cheeks, and you look down, trying to hide them, but it's too late, and you know Obi-Wan has already seen them. He lets out a sigh and walks over to you, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he says softly, his voice filled with empathy. "I just want you to be careful. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

"What do I do?"

"You keep moving," he replies. "You carry on."

You nod, and you wipe away the tears, your breathing ragged. Obi-Wan pulls you into his arms, and he holds you, the weight of his words still heavy on your shoulders. He doesn't say anything else, and the silence stretches, the minutes passing. And then, he pulls away, his hand cupping your cheek, his eyes meeting yours.

"Now, get some rest," he tells you, and he smiles, the sadness still present, but the worry fading. "We'll talk later."

You nod, and he turns, heading for the door. He pauses in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame, and he glances back at you.

"I'm proud of you," he says. His gaze lingers for a moment, and then, he's gone, the door closing behind him. You're alone in the room, and the quiet settles in, the air thick with the aftermath of the conversation.

You lean back and close your eyes, scrubbing at your face. The guilt is still there, and it's still heavy, but you feel better, and you're starting to see a little clearer. Obi-Wan is right. You need to carry on, to not allow this attachment, or whatever it is, to affect your judgment, or to control your actions. And you need to be careful. You can't put Rex in any more danger than he already is. He deserves better. They all do.

And you can do that. You can.

You take a breath and exhale, pushing the emotions away, burying them deep. When you open your eyes again, they're dry, and your breathing has steadied, and the weight, while not gone, has lessened. It's a start. You can work with that. You can.

And then you hear it.

"Sir."

You turn, and your eyes land on Rex, standing in the doorway, his helmet tucked under his arm. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you force yourself to take a deep breath, to push the feelings aside. To pretend. You can do that, right?

"Captain," you greet, and you smile, your expression masking the turmoil that's raging within you. "I'm glad you're alright."

Rex nods, and his lips twitch, a hint of a smile playing on his features. He doesn't seem surprised, and you realize, with a start, that Obi-Wan must have sent him a message before he'd even left the room. That man always has a plan.

"I should be the one telling you that," he says. He walks over to you and stands at attention, his posture rigid, his shoulders straight. His armor is covered in dirt, and there are a few new dents and scratches, but he's intact. And that's what matters. "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Better, thanks."

"I'm glad to hear it," he replies, and his gaze meets yours, his eyes searching yours. "You gave us quite a scare."

"Yeah, well, I've had worse," you say with a shrug. You lean forward and rest your elbows on your knees, your gaze never leaving his. "I'll be fine. It's going to take more than a little explosion to keep me down."

Rex chuckles and shakes his head, his shoulders relaxing. He places his helmet on the foot of the bed, and he takes a step towards you, the distance between the two of you narrowing. His eyes find yours, and he hesitates, the emotions flashing across his face, his mouth opening and closing. He seems conflicted, and there's something there, a question that he wants to ask, but he can't. You can see it in the way he's looking at you, the worry plain on his features. And so, you decide to give him an out.

"Come on," you say. You jerk your head toward the empty chair next to you. "Have a seat."

He frowns, but he does as you ask, taking a seat next to the bed. The silence stretches on, the tension mounting, and you can tell he's still debating what he wants to say, his brow furrowed. He doesn't seem to be getting anywhere with his internal battle, and you sigh, the impatience rising. "Rex."

"Permission to speak freely, sir," he blurts out. The words come out in a rush, and he winces before squaring his shoulders and looking you straight in the eye.

"Of course," you tell him, and your brow furrows, the worry starting to seep through. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he says. He pauses, and his frown deepens. "No. No, it's not. I...I wanted to apologize, sir."

You're taken aback, and you blink, the surprise registering on your face. "For what?"

"For putting you in harm's way," he says, and his expression is serious, his jaw set, his eyes never leaving yours. "For not believing you, when you tried to tell me about the danger. For not trusting you. If I had, we could've avoided the entire situation, and none of us would've been in any danger. And, if you hadn't pushed me out of the way, then—"

"Hey, stop," you interrupt. You reach over and cover his hand with yours, and he stops, his eyes widening. You smile, and you squeeze his fingers, hoping that the touch will reassure him. "It's okay."

"But, I—"

"No," you say firmly. You let go, and you sit up straight, the mask slipping back into place. "This isn't your fault, Rex. It was mine."

"Sir," he protests.

"I'm serious," you insist. "I could've told you what was happening, and I didn't. I kept it to myself, and I made the wrong decision, and it nearly got us both killed. So, if anything, I should be the one apologizing to you."

"You were trying to protect me."

"And look where it got us," you snap. The frustration is creeping back, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the emotions down, the anger and the hurt. "I'm sorry. I just...I should've been more careful."

"Maybe," he concedes. He's silent for a moment, his gaze drifting, and he shifts in his chair. "Or maybe not. We might not be here, if you had."

You're not sure what to say, and you can't help the guilt, the regret. You could've done something different, could've done more. But in that moment, the only thing you'd been able to think about was saving Rex. Saving him, even if it meant risking your own life. And, deep down, you can't bring yourself to regret that. Not entirely.

"I guess we'll never know," you say softly.

"I guess not."

You sit there, staring at each other, the silence stretching. Neither of you seems to know what to say, the awkwardness hanging in the air.

Finally, Rex breaks the tension, clearing his throat. "In any case, thank you. For saving my life."

"Don't mention it," you reply, and you grin, the smile coming easily. "Besides, I told you I owed you one. Two, actually."

"You didn't," he insists, and he gives you a small, crooked smile, his eyes sparkling. "You still don't."

"If you say so."

You glance around the room and take in your surroundings. The space is quiet, and the ship is flying through hyperspace, the blue light flickering over the walls. It's peaceful, and for the first time since the battle, you feel a sense of calm settling in.

You turn back to Rex to find him watching you, his expression soft, and you smile. "So, tell me what I've missed. What happened after I passed out?"

Rex spends the next hour telling you about the battle. The 104th had arrived mere moments after you fell unconscious, and most of the men on the ground were able to retreat. Ahsoka had resisted orders to abandon her push into the center of the battle, and it had nearly cost the lives of her and her men. She was awaiting punishment at the hands of the Council upon your return, and Rex could tell that Anakin was still fuming over the disobedience. The planet had been lost, and the casualties were mounting. It was a disheartening end to what had begun as such a hopeful mission.

You had barely escaped the carnage, the ships limping back through the blockade and into the safety of hyperspace. Now, you were on your way back to Coruscant, and the trip would take several days. You weren't looking forward to facing the Council, but there was nothing else to be done. You would deal with the fallout, and move on. You had to.

"I'm sure the Jedi Council will be lenient with her," Rex says, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. "She's still young, and she's a good soldier."

"That's not going to matter," you sigh. "Ahsoka disobeyed direct orders. There are consequences for that. I'm not sure what they'll do, but..." Your voice trails off, and you look away, your jaw clenched. "They'll do what they think is necessary. They always do."

Rex's expression grows concerned, and his brow furrows, his gaze searching yours. "Have you spoken to them about what happened?"

"No."

"Then, how do you know what they'll do?" he asks, his frown deepening. "Do you think they'll punish you, too?"

"Probably."

"What?"

"Look," you say. You pause, and you take a breath, the weariness settling in. "I know the Council, and I know how they work. They're not going to let this go. They're not going to be happy about what happened."

"That doesn't mean they'll punish you," Rex counters. "You're one of the best fighters they have. You've helped them countless times."

"That doesn't matter," you say. You shake your head and look down at your hands, your fingers intertwined, your thumbs rubbing together. "It's not about the work. It's about the principle. The fact that I made a choice that they wouldn't have. That I put myself before the mission. They're not going to like that."

"You put me before the mission," he says quietly.

"Yes," you agree. You meet his gaze, and you hold it, the honesty written on your face. "I did."

He stares at you, his eyes wide, his mouth open. He looks as though he's seen a ghost, and you can't help the chuckle, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

"Are you...are you laughing?" he asks. His tone is incredulous, and he seems torn between being offended and joining you, a smile tugging at his lips. "This is not funny."

"It is a little," you say, and the laugh grows, the mirth bubbling up. "Just a bit."

"It's not," he says. But his voice is lighter, and the corners of his mouth are turning upward, and he can't quite hide the smile. "Stop laughing. It's not funny."

"Okay, okay," you concede, and you hold up your hands in surrender, the laughter dying. "It's not funny."

He glares at you, his lips twitching, and the expression sends another round of giggles through you, and you have to bite your lip, the grin spreading across your face. "I'm sorry. Really."

He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and then, he's smiling, his eyes sparkling, and you can't help but think how handsome he is. How the laughter suits him, and how much happier, and younger, it makes him look. You wish you could see it more often.

"You're something else," he mutters. But his tone is fond, and the look he gives you is warm, his eyes soft. "Really."

"Thanks," you reply, and your smile grows. "So are you."

"Thanks." He chuckles and looks away, and you're not sure, but you think you catch the hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. He takes a breath, and his expression sobers, his eyes meeting yours. "Seriously, though, you didn't have to do that."

"I know."

"You didn't have to put yourself in danger," he continues.

"I know," you say again.

"You shouldn't have," he insists. "You shouldn't have risked your life for mine."

"I would've done the same for any one of the men," you reply. "Or anyone else who was in trouble. I'm a Jedi. It's my job."

"Still," he says softly. "You didn't have to."

"I did," you tell him. You meet his gaze, and you hold it, the truth written on your face. "And I would do it again."

Rex doesn't respond. He doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks at you, and you stare back, neither of you speaking. It's not uncomfortable, and there's no tension. Just the quiet, and the understanding. He knows why you did what you did, and, while he may not like it, or approve of it, he's grateful. And that's enough.

After a moment, he nods. And that's the end of the conversation.

He stands, and he picks up his helmet, turning to leave. But something keeps him from going. He looks at you, his expression hesitant, and then he reaches into one of the pouches of his utility belt.

"I almost forgot," he says. Rex walks back over to you, and his fingers withdraw a gold chain. Your breath catches at the familiar sight of the blue stone pendant dangling in front of you. "The medics found this on you when they were transferring you to bacta. Kix asked me to hold onto it for you.”

You swallow and take the necklace, running your fingers over the smooth surface, the cool metal a comforting weight in your palm. You feel a flash of guilt, and your heart sinks. You hadn't even thought about it.

"A gift from General Kenobi, sir?” he asks quietly.

“Hm?” you hum, nearly missing his words in your distraction. You look up, and Rex is watching you, a strange look on his face. "Oh. No, no this was my Master’s. It’s…the only thing I have left of her. Thank you, Rex."

Rex nods, and the tension in his shoulders relaxes slightly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity and sympathy in his tone. You wrack your memory of the last ten years, and you realize you can't remember a single time anyone had said those words to you, not even Obi-Wan. They mean more than you ever thought they would, and you’re not prepared for the rush of gratitude and affection that falls over you in a wave.

"Thank you," you say again. "For everything."

"You're welcome," he replies. His gaze is still locked on yours, and there's a flicker of something, a shadow of an emotion that crosses his face. He hesitates, his fingers tapping his helmet, and then he takes a step back. "Just, be careful, sir."

"I will."

He nods and turns to leave. As he steps out into the corridor, he stops, and he glances back at you. "And...thank you again.”

"You would've done the same for me,” you point out.

"That doesn't matter," he replies. There's an edge to his voice, a stubbornness, but then he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

The door slides closed behind him, and the room falls silent.

You lean back and close your eyes, the necklace still clutched in your fist. You feel something inside of you, a fluttering in your chest, a lightness, that feels almost foreign. You wonder if he felt it too.

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[fellthemarvelous]

The Jedi struggle

What was Barriss' ultimate goal?

I mean, yeah, exposing the hypocrisy of the Jedi Order was what she wanted to do, but it seemed like she was going to allow Ahsoka to take the fall for a crime she didn't commit. She only confessed because Anakin nearly killed her after finding out she framed Ahsoka for bombing the Jedi Temple.

If Anakin had not caught her, then what?

Was she just going to carry that secret with her until the day she died? Was she going to suddenly have proof that Ahsoka had been framed and the Jedi had gotten it wrong? Ahsoka was supposed to be her best friend and she chose to throw Ahsoka under the bus just to prove a point to the galaxy.

Did she think she was doing the right thing or did she know that what she was doing was evil?

Because regardless of what you think of the Jedi Order, the way she chose to go about proving her point was monstrous. She might have been right, but it almost cost Ahsoka her life, not to mention the number of Jedi, clones and temple workers killed in the bombing.

The Jedi were not monsters though. Clearly there were Jedi who did bad things (Dooku, Krell, Barriss, Anakin...) but that doesn't mean the entire order was evil. It means that there were some who were not strong enough to resist the lure of the dark side. The Jedi had lost their way, but it doesn't mean they didn't deserve the opportunity to find their way back to the light. Barriss even ultimately redeems herself.

And while Barriss isn't the least bit responsible for Order 66, her actions made Palpatine's job easier in the end.

Which brings me to the Clone Wars.

The war itself was chaotic for the Jedi. They had expressed repeatedly that they were peacekeepers and not soldiers. They did not want to go to war, but Palpatine made sure they didn't have a choice.

Of course they were going to mess up.

They were trying to protect an entire galaxy, but there were only 10,000 Jedi Knights protecting one hundred quadrillion sentient lifeforms (I pulled that number from Wookieepedia) in a galaxy with millions of star systems. They had the help of roughly three million clone troopers (fighting against roughly one quadrillion battle droids), an army that was created for them without their knowledge by Darth Tyranus (Count Dooku), a fact they didn't find out until it was too late. They found out after they had spent years fighting alongside the clones. They trusted and cared for the clones, and the clones never let them down.

And the one time the clones did let them down was when the clones lost their free will and were forced to execute their Jedi leaders.

The Jedi were doing the best they could considering there were nowhere near enough of them to adequately protect an entire galaxy during a time of war. At one point, Obi-Wan even expressed frustration over the fact that not enough planets were standing up for themselves, which was why the Jedi were spread so thin. The droid army was massive and able to swarm entire planets with ease. The Jedi had no time to rest and the Clone Army was nowhere near large enough.

They were keepers of the peace turned into soldiers for the very purpose of turning the galaxy against the Jedi. That was Palpatine's whole angle. Their compassion was exploited and used against them.

Did they lose their way? Yes. To an extent.

Were they evil? No. They were doing what they thought was right.

The Jedi are not flawless and the Force does not make the Jedi omnipotent. They made mistakes.

All of that is to say...

I will never understand how people can say that the Jedi were evil when it's explicitly clear that Palpatine used anti-Jedi propaganda to justify the genocide of the entire Jedi Order by painting them as evil.

Which resulted in this...

[toska-writes]

helloo! i love your writing so much and i wonder would you like to write commander cody with padawan reader, it's after order 66. and as we know in bad batch s2 he's gone to AWOL right? so what if he go to other planets anywhere and meet reader again (let's pretend he already removed his chip lol) imagine how he feels guilt meeting his little padawan after trying to kill her and her master (obi-wan) and how the reader react meeting him again especially looking at her cody sun armor become gray like shadow unlike him.

(sorry if my english kinda messed up, and have a great day!! <3)

Wow, just wow

“Sunshine”

Summary: after order 66 Cody jumps at only the chance to get at least one person from his old life back- no matter the cost

Paring: Cody x GN padawan Reader (it’s platonic!)

Warning: hurt/comfort nightmares ptsd let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1822

Notes: I’m very proud of this one and I hope you enjoy! It’s also not proofread because I need some sleep

Cody’s head hurt again.

But it wasn’t like last time, he was in control now and always will be.

“How are you feeling Kotes?” Rex came around the tables and laid a hand on Cody’s shoulder.

To be honest Cody wasn’t sure what he was feeling, if anything. Nausea sat in the pit of his stomach but he feared that it wasn’t just from the procedure he went through.

A hand reached up to the side of his head, the fresh bandage felt course under his hand- the all to familiar feeling of before.

“I’m fine.” Cody’s voice was raspy and burned his throat- Rex picked up on this and quickly went to get him a drink of water.

There he sat alone.

He was alone for a while now, but nothing like this. If you went back a few week you would see the small spark of hope illuminating in his eyes.

Cody wasn’t sure of a lot of things since the war ended but maybe it was the illusion of hope that he and Crosshair could escape together.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

Then Cody went AWOL. Finally it seemed that he got his mind right- the headaches and the dreams that plagued him however said otherwise.

Rex walked back in. Cody’s eyes were clouded in thought as he sat unmoving on the table.

Placing a ginger hand on his knee Rex has never seen is brother in such a state. But the way he felt in this moment- finally getting his free will totally returned to him was something he would never forget.

“Hey Kotes,” Rex helped him to his feet and lend him out into the halls. “We found something you might need to take a look at.”

Cody almost instantly snapped back to attention as the pair of brothers made their way back to the ship they arrived on.

“A few radars picked up on some chatter from the bounty hunters guild.” Rex returned to the Captain Cody knows and loves, things were going back to how they use to be.

“Why would your crew have any interest in the guilds?” Cody questioned, a little slow to connect the dots. “Your fighting an empire here.”

Rex stared at him for a moment, his try at a sarcastic tone clearly flew over Rex’s head.

It was one of the only times Cody has ever seen Rex so unsure about what he was about to say. “We picked up Y/N’s location. The bounty for Jedi are unbelievably high and I’m worried if one of us doesn’t get there in time it might go sour.”

Cody froze in his seat, the end of Rex’s sentence seemed to go blurry. The moment replayed every hour of the day, awake or asleep. He memorized the moment when he watched Obi-wan fall from that terrible hight.

He remembered the look you gave him as he turned to you, your lightsaber coming up in your shaky hands staring at him.

“Cody what’s going on?”

“I- they made it?” Cody looked at Rex, the dark thought that he was playing a terrible joke on him.

Rex only nodded his confirmation. Waiting for Cody to see just want he would do.

You wouldn’t want to see him. Cody didn’t even want to see himself. The terrors he’s created would never wash off no matter how hard he scrubbed.

The armor that surrounded him all his life was striped away, just like everything he has ever known. His sunshine was stripped away as well.

Taking a shaky breath in Cody whispered. “Take me to them.”

•••

Your head hurt again.

It was just like the last time, the moment you realized nobody was on your side anymore.

The purge left you stranded by yourself, unsure of what to do you fled as far as you could.

The outer rim served its purpose for now but the empire was expanding, and the hunters became bolder with their search.

Against your better judgment you tried to reach Ahsoka, Hunter even but it was no use.

Maybe now you were by yourself. Cutoff.

You sat up straight in your makeshift bed. The sheets bawled into your fist as your chest heaved and sweet ran down your back.

You weren’t safe even in your own mind.

You watched him fall. The scream you let out as you lost him over the edge. Everyone around you went off.

Cody. Your Cody turned to you next- all around you heard the all too familiar sound of blasters raising. Cody aimed for you as you brought your weapon up, the thought of hurting any of them never crossed your mind before.

“Cody.” You had tried. “Cody what’s going on?”

The blaster that was shot at you was the moment you woke this time. Other times you weren’t as lucky to be spared with the memory.

The sky was masked with the darkness of the night, your clock told you at you barely sleep 2 hours since you tried to go to sleep.

You gathered yourself as practically dragged yourself to the only window in your “home”

This wasn’t home. Nothing would come close to what the word use to mean to you, but it was soemthing keeping you mildly safe.

The sky above never really changed, it was the only constant you found after the end of the war. The only thing you could depend on that would never harm you.

Your head buzzed again, for a split second you turned to your hidden saber, the weapon you couldn’t pick up since you arrived on this rock. The crystal within buzzed constantly in your ear, begging to be picked up once again.

It use to be a background noise that grounded you, but things have changed.

You stared into the darkness for a moment, the lightsaber wasn’t it. Turning your attention back to the outside world the familiar feeling felt crooked in your chest.

It wasn’t really right, but it was something you recognized none the less.

A cloak that you threw around yourself countless times before made its way to your shoulders- masking you from others and you left closing your door silently behind you.

For a moment you thought maybe, just maybe it was your master heat to tell you everything would be ok, to help you just as he had countless times before.

But you couldn’t think like that, like you use too. Hope burned within you as you followed the force you tried desperately to get rid of.

•••

Cody tried the comm channel he used countless times before, he could practically put it in with his eyes closed.

But of course no answer.

He did try once before- the first night he ran from the empire, alone in the back of a transport ship he tried to reach the Jedi he grew fond of.

It was one of the only instants the commanders eyes watered slightly and his nose ran.

Rex was waiting near by with the ship as he walked the streets of this planet alone. His armor was covered with a poncho Rex lent him and frankly it was the best he could do.

He hoped that you weren’t here, the disgusting streets and inhabitants made him sick. But what if this was better than see him again?

Cody shook that last thought. His hand shook slightly at his side which was a nervous habit he picked up a long time ago.

His eyes scanned the dark scenery for any sign that you might have been here, a sign Cody hoped nobody else could pick up on.

On instinct he turned down an alley to his left, this was definitely not the place to be at this time.

His eyes squinted trying to pin point a figure towards the end. This was the only time he wished for his helmet that didn’t seem his own.

Something ate at the inside of him again. His breath was sparse wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. If his mind was no longer his own.

The figure took a few steps from the shadows that engulfed them. The moon illuminated someone that haunted every minute of his life.

You held a blaster out in front of you, but this time you didn’t shake.

Cody didn’t dare take another step. His eyes were firmly planted on the ground as he kneeled down dropping his blaster in front of him.

“Cody?”

He could only nod, afraid that his voice would highlight just how vulnerable he felt in this very moment.

But he had to say something, he couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m- I’m so sorry kid.” His voice broke through his words. This uncertain feeling engulfed him like a flame showing no mercy. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment. Taking in the sight- clearly things were different. The sunshine was stripped from him. His eyes, though they tried to avoid you, seemed hollow.

You thought of two things in this moment.

You wanted to run, run from someone that could hurt you all over again, someone that you weren’t even sure you could trust.

Or

You could try to hang onto one of the only things that you so desperately needed. You needed someone.

The blaster clanked to the ground as you walked to Cody. Your guard was up but the tears betrayed what you were really hoping for.

You hoped that Cody was himself again.

Cody looked up, your familiar eyes caught his own. The tears that he dried so many times fell across your cheeks, and he only wished to dry them one more time.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, his mind left him and he could only mutter the only words that went through his head, as if they could make everything better.

You kneeled down with him. For a second Cody thought this might be a dream of his own and this was the moment that he would loose you once again.

But you stayed.

Quickly you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him flushed against you.

Cody wasted no time crushing you into him. You cling to him as he continued to whisper small apologies into your hair.

Through the muffled sniffles you voiced. “I liked your other armor kot’ika.”

For the first time in a while Cody found himself giving an actual laugh.

He nodded as he griped you even tighter as if he was afraid that if he let go you would leave.

“I think I could use some help painting it again.” He spoke a little louder. The emotions still sounded in his voice.

It was your turn to nod into his chest. For the first time in a while You found yourself crying tears of relief that finally someone was here for you again.

This time you weren’t going to let him go again.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97

[lieutenant-teach]

Meeting Cyare’s father (or Anakin Skywalker doesn’t like his new son-in-law very much)

(Anakin doesn’t go Dark, everyone lives, everyone’s happy. No Sequels, rehashed Heir to the Empire instead of the OT. DinLuke, minor Anidala, CodyWan, HanLeia)

Din was really relieved about his helmet on, but then he remembered that the Jedi can feel other people’s emotions. No luck, then.

His cyare’s father’s eyes were trying to burn a hole in his head.

– Let me get it straight, Luke. A Mandalorian bounty hunter. – The voice could cut the stone better than a lightsaber.

– Mum likes him, – Luke was smiling, but Din saw him tensing for a fight. A cybernetic hand squeezed his.

– I didn’t raise my only children to give them away to some criminals, - Skywalker-senior stood up from the couch and started walking back and forth. – First I have to agree to allow my princess marry some smuggler…

– Han did help us to stop Thrawn.

– … and then my son wants to partner a bounty hunter, - Luke’s father wasn’t listening to him, anger coming off him like waves – Din was certain he wasn’t Force-sensitive, but one may not be to feel the Dark Side emanating from Anakin Skywalker at that moment.

Din remembered Luke’s words before ‘meeting with father’s half of the family’: ‘My Dad will become angry, I’m sure – he didn’t react to Han well, too – but don’t worry, he’ll cool down’. The warning rang in his ears when he saw Skywalker-senior for the first time: tall, with a rich mane of greying curls, but still very handsome former Jedi assessed him and made up him mind immediately. ‘Not worthy’. Now they were sitting on the softest couch Din’s ass had ever been on, in the richest living room Din’s eyes ever seen, and ‘officially’ letting Din into a very branchy Skywalker family tree. Or, trying.

– Dad, I’m almost thirty, I can decide for myself. And Din’s a hero of his own – he kept Grogu save and sound, stopped Moff Gideon, and also saved the town of Mos Pelgo from the krayt dragon…

– But a bounty hunter! – Skywalker-senior cried exasperatedly. – And, to add to it, a Mandalorian! It is all your fault, Obi-Wan! – he suddenly turned to Luke’s uncle, quietly watching all this until this moment.

– Wait, why? – the man was older than Luke’s father, gray hair and beard and mischievous twinkle in the eyes. So far he hadn’t said anything, but Luke had said his uncle would be supportive. Now it was time to find out. – My fault Luke fell in love?

– With a Mando! – Skywalker raised his voice. – Who in this family has a thing for Mandos?

– Do not speak about Satine like this, – Obi-Wan’s voice became steely, – and anyway, Cody is not a Mandalorian.

– He is a clone of a Mandalorian!

Din started to lose the thread of the conversation. He even wished he had a Jedi ability to speak telepathically and could ask Luke what the kark was going on. He shifted his head, trying not to be very obvious in his confusion, Luke caught his gaze and shrugged.

– Do you really think I taught Luke… - Luke’s uncle sighed. – We have been here before, Anakin. Luke is an adult, he can think for himself. If he brought young Din Djarin here, then he is certain in him and his own feelings. Did your fits of reality rejection change Leia’s mind?

Luke’s father breathed in and out heavily, clearly holding himself from harsher words, but reluctantly accepting the truth.

– Maybe, you should just talk to Din? – Luke’s uncle didn’t look happy, but so wasn’t Din hearing this suggestion.

‘Let me talk, – Din remembered Luke’s words. – When Dad started being… um… not very nice to Han – critical of sorts – Han started talking back. It escalated, some chairs were flying around, Dad and Leia exchanging angry remarks – Dad said she deserved better, Leia insisted she loved Han – and Han himself wasn’t making everything easier. It took two professional negotiators – Mum and Uncle Obi-Wan – to calm them down. Still, Leia and Han are happily married and have a son. So it’s just an unpleasant procedure you have to endure’.

– Maybe, he would take the helmet off for starters? – Poison in Skywalker’s voice could kill a bantha. No, a herd of banthas.

– I cannot, - Din was glad his voice didn’t tremble. He wasn’t afraid of the man, but watching a family drama, and, worse, being the reason of it didn’t feel well. He didn’t want to cause a rift in Luke’s relationship with his father. – My Creed prohibits me to.

– Veery convenient, - Skywalker smiled a tight and unpleasant smile, ignoring pleading and exasperated eyes of his son. – We’re a family now, you don’t show your face even to your family? Luke, have you seen his face?

– Dad, now it’s rude. Of course, I did. – It was obvious Luke was holding well, but his patience wasn’t infinite, too. – It’s only for immediate members.

Technically, after realizing the existence of different Mandalorian Ways, Din wasn’t sure he couldn’t do that. After all, taking off helmets didn’t make Bo-Katan Kryze or Sabine Wren less Mandalorians. But even if he would – not for this man.

The door slid open, a man quietly entered the room and stood behind Luke’s uncle’s armchair, resting his elbows on the chair back. Could he be Boba Fett’s relative? Because he was a carbon copy of Din’s friend, albeit much older. An intricate scar was winding its way from his temple down around his left eye.

– I am being quite nice! – Skywalker protested, dragging all attention to himself. – I can’t believe Padmé actually said ‘I like this guy, let’s take him in’.

– You know, I agree with you, - the probably-Boba’s-relative suddenly said. Luke’s uncle turned to him with puzzled expression. Luke looked disappointed. – The kids take after their mother in their bad choice of life partners.

Skywalker seemed about to blow up. He grabbed something from his belt that appeared to be a black respiratory mask and pressed it to his nose and mouth. The mechanical labored breathing sounds filled the room, Skywalker was drilling the man with burning eyes.

– Now, Cody, that was harsh, - frankly, to Din’s mind, Luke’s uncle didn’t look apologetic a lot. Luke sighed, his shoulders relaxed.

– I thought you were serious! – he even laughed a little, then gather himself again. – Dad, you do realize your approval or disapproval won’t change anything?

– Unfortunately, - Skywalker’s voice also sounded mechanical. – I believe no one in the galaxy or farther is worthy of my children. – He signed. – I guess I have to work with what we have here. – He shot a look at Cody, who smiled in return, and this smile was ‘I know you know I’m right, and I unashamedly love it’.

– Very well, - Obi-Wan clapped his hands. – Now as everything is settled, - Din clearly heard ‘Anakin is settled’, - we can share some stories and know each other better, right, Din?

Luke looked at Din with shining eyes. Din signed quietly. This look was worth all these awkward minutes.

[gffa]

Have you watched the First Okiro's recent Star Wars video? He made a really interesting case about how TLJ Luke was a form of character assassination. When I saw the ask you answered about how Luke treasured Yoda and read the last paragraph, I thought maybe you'd agree.

https://youtu.be/r0I86ii2N_8?si=-oHY6dQsFBsSAfPv

Hi! Honestly, I pretty much refuse to watch any Star Wars video essays anymore because so many of them are anti-Jedi and I don't think it's fruitful for any of us for me to put myself through that, they don't gain anything, I don't gain anything, etc. So I have no idea what the case being presented in the video is, I'm only going on "character assassination" in TLJ and how I actually disagree. I mean, I think it was poorly executed in some ways, but that the basic concepts of it are ones I actually think are the best parts of the movie. My problems with TLJ's Luke story is that I think the extremity of it was too much, that him being on the island for six years without contact with anyone was too long for how I see Luke, as well as I think the structure of having Han die and not showing that deleted scene of Luke mourning his death, of having Luke interacting with Rey but making it all about Ben, none of that worked for me. But what does work for me is that the idea of overcoming pain and suffering is a one-and-done deal is just not how Star Wars or the Force works. Luke very nearly fell to the dark side in Return of the Jedi, that wasn't just put there for the aesthetics, that was something he was genuinely teetering on the edge of, he was raining hell down on Vader when slicing away at his arm, Sidious genuinely felt the anger and rage roiling inside Luke, he had to struggle to turn away from it and embrace what it meant to be a Jedi.

That's not a one time struggle--that's something characters face their entire lives. And if you include the Disney comics (which are really good imo), Luke struggles with loss and pain and anger after the defeat on Bespin, he has to struggle through not falling to the dark side again. And, hell, even MARK HAMILL says that Luke's fall down the reactor shaft on Bespin was akin to him basically trying to commit suicide because he was so devastated. So I think it's fair that Luke could struggle with that again later in his life, I think it's fair that after pouring everything of himself into building up the Jedi again, to have it torn down by someone he loved, someone that he may have bordered on attachment to (as Star Wars and the Jedi define it--love and attachment are not the same thing, attachment is the desire to hold onto something/someone so tightly because you can't live without it and thus you can't see it clearly, which I think I could believe of Luke, that he was so blinded by his desire for what he wanted for Ben that he couldn't be objective about him, just like he struggled with loving his sister so much that rage boiled inside of him when Palpatine threatened her and Luke's friends on the second Death Star), that he retreated because this felt so massive and he felt like he was the only one who could build this school and that he pulled these kids into this life. Like, it's fair that Obi-Wan struggled with Anakin's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Tatooine, so I think it's fair that Luke struggled with Ben's betrayal and cut himself off from using the Force on Ahch-To--they both had to process that grief and it's not always a perfect path when it's someone you love that dearly and were so incredibly close to. Ultimately, the entire speech Luke gives is one that is DESIGNED to be knocked down, he is literally standing in front of the First Order and facing them down with his laser sword at the end of the movie, Rian Johnson literally says that it was Luke's personal failure, not the failure of the Jedi religion, and Luke finds his feet again. And that's my guy!!! The guy who makes mistakes, but is such a core of goodness and compassion and care for others that he eventually gets over these massive hurdles placed in front of him, and so that part of Luke's story worked for me. I'm just not wild about the finer details of how it was actually executed, even if I think it's fair to point out that Rian Johnson was handed a pre-existing situation that he then had to reverse engineer a backstory for with an extremely limited time to do it, because apparently THEY DIDN'T PLAN OUT THE TRILOGY AHEAD OF TIME for fucks sake.

[hayden-christensen-verse-2-0]

A Mothers anguish-A father's punishment

Warnings: DDDNE, main character death, allusions to r@pe, child murder, death, suicide, unborn child killed and other possible triggering things

don't like then please don't read

y/n pov

I've been trapped here on this stupid ship for years and it only feels like yesterday that he took me here after he killed my children……..

“Oh my sweet luke and leia….” I sob out into my hands before looking up and out the window and seeing the part of the galaxy where we've stopped at. I remember it so clearly it was 5 years after order 66, with the help of obi wan i was able to birth my twins, luke and leia and help me settle down on tatooine. Obi wan also told me anakin had fallen into the dark side, something i thought impossible of anakin. We also had to pursue him to confront him and only for him to force choke me to unconsciousness and only woke up when the battle between obi wan and anakin's fight was over. Luke and Leia were adorable and looked like Anakin so much and the years flew by and my children were 5 and so full of life and HE came.

Flashback

I was in the kitchen humming an old lullaby only to hear my children scream out in fear. I rushed outside only to find lukes’ neck in the hands of darth vader struggling and leia with a still slightly smoking wound in her chest. 

“M-mama” Luke choked out, his little hand reaching out and eyes pleading for me, only to go limp and lifeless with a sick crunch and let go to fall next to his motionless sister. I scream out in agony and rush forwards, dropping to my knees scrambling to clutch my lifeless children. The last thing i had of anakin, i weep desperately into my childrens bodys’ as vader watches unmoved before im struck in the back of the head, vision going dark.

Flashback over

It's been 18 years since then and ive had one more child with another on the way. I love my new children but still weep for my long lost ones. Atlas my son with vader, he has my deep (e/c) and my (h/c) and there are other qualities that mirror anakins and that's how i found out that vader was anakin but sick and twisted, a shell of a dutiful and loving man i knew. If I was honest I did not want any more kids but Vader cared very little about my opinion and forced me to have atlas and soon another on the way. I had nearly thrown up when I found out, to know he had killed his own children without mercy. As I stare out the huge window still lost in thought to be snapped back to reality to a knock on my door.

“Come in” my tone authoritatively turned my body to the door, the long dress twisting with my body. Incomes a stormtrooper and he bows before speaking and as the words escape his mouth my eyes widen and my fears have come to fruition yet again

“Empress, i'm here to report to you that prince atlas has been killed in battle” and after he finished he bowed again and walked out of vaders’ and my chambers. I stand there frozen in agony and anguish of losing yet another one of my babies. I clutch my growing bump before falling to my knees and let out scream from the back of my throat, one only a mother grieving her child could let out. I fall forwards onto my hands, tears leaving small puddles on the gray steel floors. My mind races with thoughts and worries for the only remaining child I have, the one in my womb and My mind spiraling into a dark place.

“ I won't let him take my last child, not my little  juniper” I whisper out protectively, eyes wide and full of tears still, searching my room for something and I finally spot it. I get up and stumble over it. I reach my hand forwards and wrap my hands around the cold steel handle of the dagger and lift it up to my eyes before turning around and walking to my bedside table to retrieve one last thing. Opening my drawer to the bedside table I fish out anakins and my old wedding rings, his a silver band with my (e/c) as the jewels around the band and mine with a silver band as well with a good size steely blue gem as the centerpiece. I look at them lovingly and smile sadly, I slowly shift my eyes to the new wedding band Vader gave me. It's black and red, it screams sith, I reach up and rip the vile ring off and throw it at the wall. I return to the window and I kneel onto my knees and raise the dagger up to align to my womb before thrusting it into myself and I bite my lip to muffle my scream, I pull the blade out to then thrust it back in again in a different area of my womb. After a couple more thrust the dagger falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I fall to my side hugging my belly, shedding tears that slide across the bridge of my nose to land on the floor, I bring my clasped hand to look at me and Anakin's wedding rings before placing a final kiss upon his ring and resting my hand against my chest. I slowly feel myself dying from blood loss and whisper out one last thing unknown to me the force carried it to the shell of the man i said it about and go lifeless

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always my dear sun…”

Vader pov

I stand in my throne room facing the wide window that shows the galaxy as i think of atlas when i hear a faint whisper in my mind

“Anakin……i-i love you forever and always, my beloved sun…”

My eyes widened behind my mask and realized she sounded weak. A chill runs down my spine and a pit of dread forms in my stomach. Worriedly I turned around and pushed myself as fast as I could down the halls of the ship to my chambers, doors sliding open to reveal my wife laying on the ground in a puddle of her own blood, her once white dress now red and clinging to her form. I rushed towards her dropping to my knees beside her to turn her onto her back, seeing the blood had come from her belly. I moved her into my arms and cradled against my chest and began rocking back and forward. My breathing comes out patchy through the vocoder and tears fogging the lenses of my mask. My mind wanders over the last 18 years and everything happening, I realize I was cruel and vile to her and the death of Atlas must have been the tipping point. I have taken her against her will, killed my own children and isolated her from everything. I let out a muffled scream as it all hits at once, I rest my head against her looking into her dull lifeless eyes and bring a hand up to close them. Here i sit and wallow in my regrets and grief

All I have done was for not, I'm alone again and it's all my fault 

[inquisitor-apologist]

hi I would personally LOVE to read thousands of essays on your thoughts about the inquisitors, so if you feel comfy posting them just know they will be received with gratitude :)

Alright, I’ve got a 4-hour car ride, so nothing but time.

The first thing that I’d say is absolutely essential to my understanding of/obsession with the Inquisitorius is that they’re expendable. Both in-text and out-of-text, they’re disposable and that is absolutely essential to their whole existence.

On the Doylist level, the Rebels team created them/reincorporated them to canon to be the replaceable early series antagonists. They're there to build the characters up to face the real threats of Maul’s temptation to the dark and Thrawn’s existential threat to the Rebel cause. The rest of the Star Wars media that shows them only reinforces this.

In Kenobi, they're there in the background, to set up Reva (who is, in the show, functionally not an Inquisitor) and Vader, in J:FO they're scary bad guys meant to be defeated and killed for Cal's growth (though, notably, J:FO is one of the only pieces of Inquisitor media that views them as victims worthy of empathy), and, while I haven't read (all of) the Vader comics, they're in the Vader comics, not in their own stories.

On the Watsonian level, they’re a sort of… buffer between the true power of the Sith and the public. They’re the one attacking the regular Force-sensitives and taking babies (someone much more qualified than me could probably talk a LOT about the very interesting ways the Jedi, Empire, and Inquisition (like, come on) parallel and draw from Judaism and historical antisemitism) and they’re the ones the Rebellion direct their anger about the Jedi Purge at. It’s easy for the two masterminds and main perpetrators to hide behind the atrocities of a dozen faceless subordinates.

This is really clearly shown in Kenobi, where the Inquisitors are dismissed as “Jedi who turned to the dark side. Now, they hunt their own kind”. They’re not seen as victims who’ve been forced into self-destructive monsters, but as the perpetrators of their own genocide, personas that they readily claim. I mean, Reva is literally a survivor of the Temple Massacre who was turned into one of the Inquisitors that Obi-Wan dismisses as traitors. They’re very convenient, effective, scapegoats.

That’s honestly a very underrated part of Palpatine’s genius; one of his most important traits is his ability to manipulate the media. By creating the Inquisitors and delegating most of the work of completing the Purge to them, he distances both himself and Vader from any public outcry against the actions of the Inquisitorius (and, to some extent, their own actions), allowing Vader to be seen as a more legitimate military officer and extension of the Emperor’s will, which is itself legitimized by that distance.

The lines between the Emperor, Vader, and the Inquisitors are also very important. There's a very clear distinction between the Sith and the Inquisitors in of autonomy, which is the second thing that defines my view of the Inquisitors. The Inquisitors are largely pawns for Palpatine’s ends, manipulated and indoctrinated kids, and as such there’s kind of a spectrum of the Empire’s Force-sensitive hierarchy between Sidious, Vader, and the Inquisitors.

Sidious is the first extreme, where he chose everything; he Fell on purpose, became a Sith on purpose, consolidated power and killed the Jedi on purpose, became Emperor on purpose. And then there’s Vader, who very much chose to Fall, kill the Jedi, and become a Sith, but he was manipulated and pushed to it by Sidious. He chose, but Sidious kind of underlies all those choices, driving him to them. Lastly, the Inquisitors chose nothing; they were hunted and persecuted by Vader and the Sith, then tortured and indoctrinated to serve Sidious, brainwashed into continuing to serve. It’s really a gradient of autonomy, if you think about it; Sidious is the only Dark Sider afforded full choice, both by the narrative and in-universe.

The Inquisitors are, fundamentally, kids ripped from their family and people, tortured and indoctrinated into self-loathing and anger. They don’t get names; they’re told they were born wrong and tortured until they believe it, then pressed into service, because, while they might have been born wrong, they were also born useful.

This is why I kind of hate the idea of Inquisitors who choose to join, and one of the reasons I’m not particularly inclined to read the new Inquisitor book (also it apparently implies that the tortured inquisitors were actually just. Force-brainwashed??). One of the most interesting and most fundamental things about them is that they are victims of horrific genocide coerced into becoming their own oppressors. If you take that away, you make them so much less interesting—they turn into stock evil traitors.

The protagonist of the new Inquisitor book is, from what I’ve gathered, a jerk who was already half-fallen in the Clone Wars and who seized the chance to gain more power with the Empire. That’s just diet Vader, and I, personally, have seen too much of both real Vader and diet vaders, so I’m not interested.

So, uh, @stellanslashgeode, you asked me for my thoughts on Iskat Akaris, here they are. Sorry it’s probably not what you wanted.

So, like, there’s my opinion on the fandom-and-canon obsession with Inquisitors who chose the Empire. We literally haven’t seen pretty much anything about how the normal inquisitors join, can we focus on the actually interesting stuff? The Inquisitors' lack of autonomy, their lack of choice, is a huge part of what fascinates me so much about them, because it's very unique. Let's not take that away.

Another piece of why I think the Inquisitors are so interesting is how their abuse at the hands of the Empire shapes them, though this part has more speculation than the stuff above due to lack of clear information.

In canon, we know that inquisitors go through fucking hellish initiation criteria (“Isolation! Torture! Mutilation!”), stuff that absolutely breaks them until they no longer believe that the Empire can be stopped at all (“You can’t stop the Empire!” “She said something about becoming an Inquisitor… like it’s inevitable”). We also know that, however it happens, it's very fast and effective. The Vader Comics are set just months after Order 66, and there's already at least ten fully initiated Inquisitors.

Unfortunately, we never directly see the exact initiation protocols the Inquisitors are subject to, but we do get quick glimpses, like in the flashbacks from J:FO, and with Reva in Kenobi. Right now, I want to look at what those flashbacks from J:FO, together with the dialogue above, tells us about what exactly happens to Inquisitors.

In the flashback, we see Trilla, strapped to the torture chair that Cere's in later in the flashback, being subjected to Star Wars' favorite kind of torture, weird electricity chairs. I'm going to call them shockseats, just to distinguish them from real-life electric chairs. We transition from the torture to some time later, when Second Sister has been fully turned, wearing the Inquisitor uniform and everything.

That, annoyingly enough, is all we get to work with. It's basically the "Being tortured makes you evil" trope, but Ninth Sister's dialogue gives it some nuance. She says "Isolation! Torture! Mutilation!", and, well, we just saw the torture part, and I'm guessing the mutilation is the whole thing in the comics where Vader teaches the Inquisitors by cutting their limbs off, so that leaves isolation, which I think is probably a very significant part of the process.

Based on the vault vision and the Fortress Inquisitorius section in J:FO, most of the Fortress's prison has a kind-of panopticon feel, with see-through energy shields, guards everywhere, and several prisoners in one cell, so I'm guessing there are probably some deeper isolation cells. The isolation is probably where most of the indoctrination happens, because we never hear anyone saying anything during the torture scenes.

This is mostly headcanon from the scraps we get, but I'd say initiation probably goes something like this: 1. a survivor is captured 2. They're taken to Nur, and tortured on the way there (per Rebels) 3 The timeline here is annoyingly unclear but I think the ‘isolation’/indoctrination comes before the rest? 4. They're tortured in an attempt to get them to turn to the Dark Side 5. They're somehow fully initiated into the Inquisitorius with their full title and uniform 6. They're trained ('mutilation') 7. They're a full Inquisitor

obv I have headcanons (ie a full-on not-really canon-compliant system that I think works better than the disjointed 'being tortured makes you evil' bits we have now, but I'm trying to stay as canon-compliant here as possible) but I think this is about what we get in canon, and it’s kind of necessary to have a vague idea about what probably happens in order to understand them, and dang is this very important to basically their entire self-concepts.

In Kenobi, Third Sister is hated by all the others, probably for not going through what they did. We see throughout the show that she’s just as good, or better, than most of them, but because she wasn’t tortured (or, at least, not to the same extent), the rest despise her. She does the exact same things we've consistently seen all the other Inquisitor's do, but she's punished and derided for it. In J:FO, Second Sister goes out and threatens civilians in order to draw Cal out, and everyone’s fine with it, but when Reva does it, everyone hates her.

There’s no rational reason; she does exactly what they do , what she’s been taught to do, but she’s treated differently. The only reason for this, in-universe, is that she’s the only Inquisitor we know of that wasn’t brought in for being a Jedi—she explicitly hides that she was one. The rest of the Inquisitors clearly do hate each other, but it’s on a different level with her, because they do not see her as one of them. She wasn’t a Jedi, and thus she didn’t go through the same things they did. There seems to be a sort-of trauma-induced bond between the other Inquisitors. They hate each other, but they all see each other as Inquisitors, largely the same as them. They don’t share that with Reva because whatever happened to them didn’t happen to her, to the same extent.

Connecting to my earlier point about Inquisitors who chose to join, I think that that's WAY more interesting than a bunch of jerk coworkers who just decided to be evil.

These people were family in the Jedi, and then their whole family died as they watched and heard and felt it in their brains, and they were chased and hunted and tortured until they broke and brought back together, warped and different and told to call each other siblings—and at this point, aren’t they? They were raised together in the bowels of Nur, subjected to the same horror and misery; they’ve been through everything together, in the worst way possible, constantly competing and fighting and killing for anything they can get. Who else could understand them in any meaningful way?

I'm getting off-topic, but the physical abuse and torture of the Inquisitors seems fundamental to their identity, even if we don't know exactly what it entailed. 

So, with the isolation and indoctrination, I think it's fair to say that there's probably quite a lot of mental abuse there. The Dark Side, in itself, is pretty horrible mental health-wise (the Jedi actively use cognitive behavioral therapy just to prevent the possibility of the Dark) and being literally tortured and forced into it must be like. so much worse. Plus, isolation has been shown to be really fucking awful for your brain and the Inquisitor’s utter hopelessness (they literally do not believe that the Empire can be stopped and are really angry at anyone who tries) kind of seems like the whole being unable to believe that things can be better and getting angry at people who try to help part of depression? 

Basically I don’t really know enough about mental health to say definitively, but I’m guessing a core part of Inquisitor Initiation is like. Insane mental abuse to get them to crack.

This last bit is less supported, and I know even less about it, so I’m going to keep this real brief, but I think there’s a possibility of some sexual abuse as well? This is a pretty big thing in fanon with the Grand Inquisitor, and then there’s all the creepy pervy stuff with Seventh Sister that she did not learn from the Jedi, but that’s as much as I’ll say for that because I know nothing about this kind of thing.

So, those are really the three things that define the Inquisitors to me: their expendability, lack of autonomy, and how their abuse defines them. I could write more on this, but this post took a fucking month already, so I’ll stick to those points.

[des8pudels8kern]

Ah yes, bedtime. The time to calm down and turn off my brain in preparation for sleeping. What better time could there be to think about another moment in the fake Sith!Obi-Wan AU.

And, while Cody isn’t unhappy that he didn’t wake up with chattering teeth, no feeling in his feet, and sore muscles from trembling all night, there is one slight problem with the comfortable cocoon of warmth he has found himself in.

“Don’t hello there me. How did you get in here?”

The air in the tent is cold enough to mist his breath as he speaks, manifesting in a short-lived cloud in the handful of inches between their faces. Kenobi’s bleary, sith-yellow gaze goes cross-eyed, trying to focus on something that’s already dissipated again, before he lifts his eyes back to Cody’s.

“Through the tend flap,” he smiles, clearly labouring under the misconception that he’s cute when, really, he is being an infuriating nuisance.

Cody sighs. He’s just woken up, he’s not cold, and he hasn’t had his morning caf yet.

Actually, he probably has morning breath right now. Kriff, he hopes it’s bad and Kenobi suffers.

“How did you get into our secure camp and into my command tent without getting noticed?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” the invader in his bed beams at him, “I saw Waxer on guard duty and asked him if I might be allowed to slip in and share the shelter of your tent rather than spend the night huddling miserably among the rocks.” Cody doesn’t quite know what his face is doing in reaction to this betrayal by his very own squad, but Kenobi is quick to add, “he made me promise not to disrupt your sleep.”

“So you thought you’d not disrupt my sleep by sneaking onto my cot and under my blanket with me.”

One of the natborn officers always mutters I’m not getting paid enough for this. Cody is not getting paid at all, but he thinks no amount of credits would be enough to compensate him for having been chosen as Kenobi’s pet project.

“Well, you seemed cold, and I can use the Force to stay warm. The Dark Side, obviously. The fires of hate and anger burn inside of me.”

Kenobi’s hair is mussed from sleep, the fabric of the cot has left lines on one side of his face, and his eyes crinkle in accompaniment of his soft, crooked smile. He couldn’t look any less Fallen if he tried.

Cody allows himself one more moment to bask in the glorious warmth he’s going to loose the moment he moves the blanket and will no doubt mourn all day, then he pulls himself together, reminds himself of his duty, and pushes.

If Kenobi’s comically wide eyes and undignified little yelp are anything to go by, the Force didn’t warn him that Cody was going to shove him off the cot.

[r0gerr0ger]

Master-padawan relationships are so fascinating in their uniqueness.

Specifically in how unique each relationship is based on age difference between master and padawan.

Obi-Wan is 13 when he becomes Qui-Gon’s padawan, compared to Anakin’s 9. But Qui-Gon is in his late 30s compared to Obi-Wan’s mid-20s as a master. This means Obi-Wan’s relationship is closer to a father-son with his master, versus brotherly with Anakin.

Anakin and Ahsoka are even more like siblings, being so close in age (seriously, how was Anakin allowed a padawan at 19)

So some padawans are growing up with a parental figure. Others with more of a sibling.

The way this would change each Jedi is fundamental. We see this clearly with Obi-Wan compared to Anakin.

Undoubtedly, I also believe it would have impacted Anakin’s fall to the dark side.

It wouldn’t have prevented it (very little if anything could have; it’s what makes the prequels a tragedy) but with a father-figure- someone to reprimand him, to be more authoritative, etc.- perhaps he would have lent less heavily on Palpatine.

Perhaps he would have been guided more openly through his relationship with Padme (here I feel Qui-Gon would have been happy to actually talk about it)

Perhaps Anakin would have felt he could get away with less leading up to his fall. He would have tried harder to stick to the Jedi way- to emulate a father, rather than out-compete a brother.

And yet, equally, I think it could have made his fall all the more terrible.

Often, bitterness for a parent is so much heavier than for a sibling. Anakin would have killed Qui-Gon. He would have levelled so much blame on him. From a slightly different perspective, may even have fallen to the dark side sooner- driven there by resentment, by a need to prove himself.

Obviously, there are so many other factors at play that shaped the way Anakin turned out versus Obi-Wan, but I think their differing master-padawan relationships from an age perspective are hugely important.

What do you think?

(also, how would Ashoka’s life have been different if, say Obi-Wan, was her master?)

[radiosummons]

This obviously would never happen in SW canon, but like ... I can't help but love the idea of Count Dooku just continously attempting to convince Obi-Wan to "join the Darkside."

Not for like, potential Sith!Obi-Wan purposes, but for just the sheer comedy of Dooku finding increasingly ridiculous ways to spend time with his grandpadawan grandson on the battlefield, all under the very thin veneer of trying to convert Obi-Wan to the Sith's cause.

Idk just the mental image of Sith Lord Palpatine and Dooku sharing a holocall, and Mr. Sheev is all like:

**Sidious: My apprentice, Kenobi has already turned down your generous offer to join us in our crusade against the Jedi. Why do you continue to toil after him while he clings to the corrupt ideals of his wretched Order?

Dooku: My Lord, Master Kenobi is among the few noble opponents to our righetous cause as well as a potential assest I feel we would be remiss to ignore. While he is indeed intrenched in the mires of the childish idealism of his fellow Jedi, I have sensed great turmoil within him. A turmoil which, if exploited properly, could potentially stoke the flame of awakening that you, my Lord, instilled within me.

Dooku: The longer this war continues, the more Master Kenobi will see through the hypocrisy of the Code he has sworn himself to. I sense that with time, he will cease his meaningless repudiations of the truths of which I have envailed to him, and will thus join us as yet another avatar of the Dark Side's will.

Sidious (not buying it one second but completely resigned to the fact that Dooku will continue purusing this anyway): ... very well.**

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan is getting increasingly confused as to the direction Count Dooku's "tactics" have been going. Dooku never stops, of course, being his hypocritical ass self, and continues to give his extremely opinionated takes on the "failings of the Jedi Order."

But overtime, they'll be locked in a deadly duel and Dooku will just randomly inquire what type of tea is Obi-Wan's favorite and if he'd ever be interested in sitting down together sometime to debate over the philosophical differences amongst various Force wielding cultures and the like.

Obi-Wan, naturally, does not allow himself to fall for this farce of an inquiry into his personal interests. Clearly, the Count is simply trying a new (and completely unorthodox) approach in attempt to throw off Obi-Wan's guard. Surely, this new more "sentimental" Dooku is going for is merely a ploy and nothing more?

Although, he did seem quite genuine in his interest. For what reason, Obi-Wan has absoutely no idea.

Cue several months worth of "coincidental" clashes between Obi-Wan and Dooku, the former seemingly aware of where Obi-Wan will be regardless of how well the Jedi Master goes to hide his whereabouts. The GAR and Jedi Council, obviously, find these "coincidences" to be highly suspicious and concerning. Obi-Wan does as well, but he can't help but try to think of potential ways they could use Count Dooku's painfully obvious interest in him to their advantage.

Nobody (besides Yoda-because of course he would) quite understands Obi-Wan's growing humor with the whole situation, but they can't deny that he has a point.

Anakin can't stop being annoyed that Dooku won't stop dismissing him, but conceeds that he'd prefer the contempt the Sith Lord has for him over whatever the weird quasi-familial relationship that his Master seems to be forming with the traitorous Sith.

Ahsoka doesn't understand much of what's going on either, but she sort of gets where Obi-Wan is coming from. If there's a way that they can keep Count Dooku's focus on one target and away from the rest of their campaign, then surely that's something they should at least try? But, yeah, it is really really weird how amused/excited Obi-Wan seems about the prospect of being Sith bait yet again.

Cody would just like one campaign where he doesn't have to witness his General engaged in a violent physical and verbal spar over where Obi-Wan's loyalties should lie. It would also be amazing if his General would stop making jokes about the Count kidnapping him one day and serving him vintage Serreno wine in his prison cell.

[viviane-lefay]

AU for Dagan & Santari

… because I absolutely can't accept how things turned out for them - therefore, I made my own, preferred scenario for them.  

I’m not much of a writer, I’m afraid, and I don’t have much experience in storytelling, so this text will mostly be of a descriptive nature, like a plot, if you will - with some parts in between where I comment on certain aspects, sharing my opinion on them. It’s a bit chaotic, but please bear with me. ^^;;

Of course this is just my headcanon, based on my take on these characters & their relationship (more about that here & here), as well as my personal preferences. I mainly wrote this for myself, after all – and, hopefully, some like-minded others.

Anyway, please be nice! If you like it, then that is great - even if you only like some parts … just pick whatever resonates with you. And if you don't - please keep that to yourself, ok!?

Here's (roughly, for now) what I had in mind:

~*~

From what is shown in the game, there is no information about what happened to Santari after she left Koboh.

What if she, after she realized that Zee failed her mission, and there was no one left to release Dagan from his stasis (who would likely remain like this for a prolonged period of time), put herself in a stasis too, linked in duration to his (and, hence, didn't die), because ...

she just couldn't let go of him like this, refusing to give up on believing in him

but also felt that he needed to make a decision for himself, which path to choose undistractedly, and therefore didn't go to release him herself (which he, unfortunately, misinterpreted as yet another abandonment upon his release by Cal - but, then again, he was still traumatized by her turning on him during their last encounter).

Since she left Koboh for good with the remaining ships, it struck me as rather odd that, in the game, you can find her lightsaber hidden in a chest there, located in a sealed passageway.

Why is it on this very planet, of all places!? Shouldn't it rather be in her latest location? Or did she even leave it there on purpose?

Knowing of the significance of the saber for the Jedi, as well as the importance to never lose it (“This weapon is your life.” - Obi-Wan, Ep. II), it makes me wonder if she left behind the life of a Jedi, and just remained a scientist. Since being a Jedi was such an important part of her life, this must have been a very profound decision to make, and maybe even a sacrifice for something of even greater importance to her.

Frankly, her complete disregard for the Jedi council's decision, as well as her further plans, make it pretty clear where her true loyalties and priorities lie - and it's not the Jedi order in this case.

You can see that illustrated very well in the game, when she refuses to turn him in, disobeying a direct order by the council by doing so - which, in itself, is already a huge crime, given his actions and how powerful and dangerous he is. Then, she keeps what happened to Dagan a secret, hides him from them, plotting for him to get away with it all and reach his goals nonetheless.

That she also plans to reunite with him after he is released from stasis indeed raises the question of her potentially having left the order – because to them he is a wanted criminal now – and it would make no sense if she lead him into a trap when she had already put in so much effort into his protection. Imho, her leaving because she chose the man she loves over the Jedi order is definitely the most likely explanation.

That she turned on him in the end is not because of his open rebellion against the order, or his plans regarding Tanalorr - after all she rebelled in her own way, albeit in a more subtle, hidden manner. Her and his goals were the same … the means, however, weren't.

And that is exactly where the problem is - the way he went about it - especially with him turning to the dark side.

She was clearly desperate, terrified to lose him because of this, and tried to stop him for that very reason. She wanted to prevent him from going further down that road.

Ironically, he wasn't able to see that, and, of all things, it was her (perceived) betrayal first and foremost, that caused his actual fall, and further descent after being released from stasis.

Her severing his arm was a complete kneejerk reaction, borne out of her despair, and I’m inclined to believe that it weighed quite heavily on her, and would haunt her from then on.

In the flashback scene you can clearly tell how distressed she is, inside, despite her somewhat level-headed demeanor. How she immediately rushes to him and holds him, calling out for help. Only after he's fallen unconscious, she gives vent to her feelings, doubles over and cries (you can't see her face, but it's fairly obvious that she does).

Aside from the arm issue, their confrontation was quite faltering anyway. You could really tell that neither wanted to do this, let alone hurt the other.

Especially with him, this becomes evident, given what he did to the other Jedi who opposed him, and what he is capable of, combat skills - wise. (I'm sure, Santari is proficient with her lightsaber, but she's not a warrior, like him, who is renowned for his outstanding skills as a duelist. She would have lasted some time, I'll grant her that, but not for long.) Instead he just shoves her away via the force, and also just lightly.

~*~

Anyway, here’s a description of one of the key scenarios I had in mind:

After awakening from her stasis and coming to terms with the historic changes that have taken place, galaxy-wide, Santari prepares for her return to Koboh. Once there, she keeps a low profile, as not to catch too much attention, and to just gather information on the recent happenings there. Troubled by what she learned, she decides to act instead of taking a more passive, observant approach, as she planned earlier.

She barely made it to the observatory in time to interrupt the fight between Dagan, Cal, and Bode, that had just started.

Her sudden appearance unfortunately heated up the situation any further, throwing the already upset Dagan into complete turmoil.

She tried to reason with him, but he was too caught up in his feelings of betrayal, and the version of reality he had so carefully constructed to endure and justify everything, that he just wouldn’t hear her out – not before Tanalorr was secured.

But he would not attack her. After all that had happened between them, he still did not hate her. Anger, yes, resentment for her actions, but hate ... he couldn't bring himself to feel that way towards her - and never would.

Instead, he quickly redirected his rage towards Cal again, and the fight resumed, more furious than before.

Bode, who was getting impatient, inserted himself at some point by starting to fire shots from his blaster at Dagan in quick succession, which were all blocked, but one. Normally, this wouldn't have been a challenge for Dagan, but the whole situation with Santari had thrown him off balance, and he lacked his usual poise.

The damage was but minor, but it jolted not only Dagan awake again, but also Santari, who had been watching the scenario unfold in grief-stricken numbness.

Seeing their chance, Cal and Bode started a coordinated attack from different directions.

This time, he would have been able to both parry Cal's blows, as well as deflect Bode's shots, but an alarmed Santari rushed behind him to block the blaster shots, just in the moment as he spun around and set out to do so himself.

It happened too fast even for him, too unexpected, and the moment was already over before the realization about what had occurred crept in. He could only watch in dismay as his blade struck her, see her falter and fall, only to be caught by him, just before she would hit the ground, and hear himself crying out her name, holding her seemingly lifeless body in his arms, as the world zeroed in on her and her mere existence, and a wave of mind-numbing pain and regret washed over him.

As he holds her close, he notices that she is still breathing, albeit weakly, and thus still alive, despite her serious injury. Desperate to save her, he carefully picks her up and sets out in a rush to carry her to the nearest medical facility.

Just as he got up, an incensed and clearly impatient Bode steps in his way and shouts at him, demanding the compass, which at the time is still in Dagan’s possession.

Aware that any further delay would come at the cost of Santari’s life, Dagan, who is beyond caring at this point, snatches the compass from his belt and dismissively tosses it in Bode’s direction, before storming off.

~*~

Frankly, in his case I think a profound shock such as this is necessary to snap him out of his rather set thought- and behavioural patterns and to truly make him question his actions.

It is also important that it was Dagan, of all people, to strike her down, and not her being hit by an attack by Bode or Cal. If it had been the latter, it wouldn’t have had such a transformative effect on him in the way the proposed scenario did, as it would have just provided an opportunity for him to further project onto others, and to redirect his anger towards his opponents any further.

Accidentally hurting the woman he loves, himself, with no one else to lay the blame on, would finally be the catalyst for him to shift his focus inwards and recognize the error of his decisions and actions - that it was his own pride and obstinacy that led to this outcome - and then to take accountability.

Above all I want him to realize (or rather remember) that he loves Santari more than anything in the universe, that he would do anything for this woman, and would gladly sacrifice anything for her - be it Tanalorr, his pride, any other ambition of his, whatever the cost - that all these things are meaningless without her, and that he is willing to forego it all, if only she is alive and well.

Basically, I want them to have this "reverse anidala" theme, where the man's love for the woman, and his strong attachment to her, instead of spelling his doom, ultimately is the key factor that saves him from the dark side, initiating a profound transformation within him, which also leads to his redemption arc.

You know, in Star Wars foreshadowing (especially via dialogue) has always been a huge theme. More often than not, there was a deeper meaning hidden somewhere, which would become evident during the course of the story.

A prime example of this is Obi-Wan's remark to Anakin: "Why do I get the feeling that you're going to be the death of me?", or when Anakin says to Padmé: "The thought of not being with you - I can't breathe." These are all allusions to things that have not yet come to pass, but eventually will.

In Dagan's case, this one line, spoken to Santari in a Force Echo, really stood out to me as such a potentially prophetic statement:

"You're the only one who can guide me back."

In the scene itself they were talking about Dagan's perilous mission to fly into the Koboh Abyss. I found the choice of name for this nebula quite interesting on a symbolic level, as the word "abyss” (which, in myth, was a term used to describe the underworld, and even the hellish realms - a dark and dreadful place) could very well stand as a perfect analogy for the dark side, and getting lost therein.

As we saw, Santari’s betrayal and her loss of course had been a major factor in his fall, there is no deying that (for instance, we see that this particular memory was the crucial one to truly complete the bleeding of his lightsaber’s kyber crystal).

In the game's canon, however, we are merely confronted with a missed opportunity. There was no Santari anymore - she was long since gone - so he had to deal with this ultimate loss on top of his already existing trauma, and all that was left for him was to cling like a madman to the only remaining thing that had a connection to her, which was Tanalorr. And it was pretty clear that his emotional ties to Santari were a pivotal aspect of his obsession with this planet.

So, in my AU I want to explore what would have happened, if Dagan had been given that chance, and Santari would have been there, after all, "guiding him back" - or rather her being the catalyst for him, to give him the hope and strength to walk this path himself, as it actually is his love for her that truly guides him back:

That this would be possible is pretty much a given, as there were other characters that were way further gone, darkside-wise, than he was, that also turned back to the light - prime example being Anakin Skywalker, of course.

(The original) Star Wars has always been all about hope, faith, and making the seemingly impossible possible – at its core it has always been deeply optimistic, with a firm belief in and emphasis on the good in mankind. If you're looking for nihilist, cynical portrayals and outcomes ... sorry, wrong universe. (If that is the shit you want, then try Game of Thrones, ffs!)

No one believed that Anakin could be saved, except for Luke, and Padmé, who expressed her unwavering faith in Anakin's innate goodness and his ability turn back with her dying breath.

More cynical minds would probably say that both Luke's, and Padmé's judgements were clouded by their feelings for Anakin - except that this wasn't the case - quite the opposite, in fact.

As for Padmé - she might not have been able to acknowledge the warning signs of his imminent fall in the moment, but she certainly felt that something troubling was going on. However, concerning the nature of his being, her perception couldn’t have been any more accurate.

After all it was her, who had this profound and intimate connection to him, who knew him better and deeper than anyone else, and, for that very reason, was able to perceive something in him that the others just couldn't. And she was a woman with a sharp mind and common sense, and her reasoning was absolutely sound.

And, yes, she was vindicated in the end!

I see that very much mirrored in Santari, her unwavering faith in Dagan, and her unwillingness to give up on him.

Here's her expressing her conviction in a force echo scene, that took place after her confrontation with Dagan, and right after he was put in the bacta tank:

"The council may have given up on you, but I know who you truly are, Dagan. Even if you yourself have forgotten..."

Of course she knows! It has been hinted at in the game multiple times that these two have known each other for a long time, are very, very close, and share a deep bond based on mutual trust, amongst other things. So, this conviction of hers is very much built on the fact that she knows him better, deeper, and more intimately than anyone else - that she knows things about him that no one else knows, has seen a side of him that no one else has ever seen. That she is the only one able to see him truly as the way he is, and is, therefore, the only one able to make a sound judgement of him and what he is capable of - or isn't.

This woman is anything but a sentimental fool, not only is she a fucking genius, she also possesses great wisdom, discernment, patience, and self-control, so, of course, there is substance to her claims, regardless of the fact that she is in love with him.

~*~

That said, I’ll now continue to describe the scenario for my AU:

Cal had been watching everything unfold with conflicting emotions, and he could not deny that the tragic turn of events on his opponent’s side affected him.

Ever since he saw them together in the force echoes, Cal has always had his suspicions about the true nature of the feelings the two Jedi harboured for each other, and now he saw the undeniable truth right in front of his eyes.

As much as he resented Dagan’s previous actions - seeing this proud man so broken and forlorn, clasping the lifeless form of his lost love to his bosom, he could not help but empathize with him, being all too familiar with love and loss himself.

It did impress him no less to see Dagan, moments later, relinquish the key to Tanalorr - to his discovery, his home, his ambitions, and his great obsession - without a moment’s hesitation, as not to lose time for saving his beloved.

At the same time, Bode’s behaviour in this situation filled him with indignation. How was this any better than Dagan’s previous conduct towards them!? It was not. If anything, it was just as unscrupulous, and that was not how he wanted to be, or to act.

Maybe it was his sense of justice, maybe it was a surge of sympathy, maybe both, that made him turn and go after Dagan, who had just disappeared through the door.

Even so, his sudden reappearance, was met by a furious glare by Dagan who was in no mood to tolerate any further delays, not believing Cal’s claim of only wanting to help. So Cal just prompted BD-1 to act, who immediately understood and administered the last health stim in his possession to Santari, who indeed seemed to show a response.

Dagan, who was too caught up in his concern for Santari just shot him a glance, before rushing off again. However short it had been, the surprise and relief in his eyes had still been visible - as well as a hint of gratitude, or so Cal believed.

From behind, Bode urged him to leave, but he refused, saying he would follow later. He needed time to reflect.

As he made his way back down, hours later, walking through the corridors, he passed by the medical ward. He stopped and stood there, wondering what had become of Santari - if his help had made any difference, however small, even if it meant that she just barely made it, and if, at this point, she was still alive after all.

With a mixture of curiosity and concern, he entered the hallway that led to the examination room. The door was still left open and he slowly made his way to the front, so he could catch sight of what was going on inside.

On the surgery couch, connected to a device that was monitoring her vital parameters, there was a still unconscious, but alive Santari.

Inclined towards her, Dagan was sitting by her side, lost in thought, holding her hand in his remaining one, his eyes fixated on the delicate features of the woman in front of him. His expression was full of sorrow and longing, yet above it all there was a deep affection gracing his handsome face, displaying a tenderness, Cal wouldn’t have associated with him before.

How long had he been watching over her like this, Cal wondered. Night had almost passed, and the horizon was already lighting up in a faint violet.

Daring not to interrupt the scene, he slowly turned, moving as silently as he could, when a deep voice, lowly but firmly, commanded him to wait. He did not know how and when, but somewhere along the line Dagan must have taken notice of his presence.

He again turned to face the Jedi master, who sat still, immovable, in his spot. Even now, as Dagan spoke on, his gaze remained, dwelling upon his beloved.

“When she was examined, I was informed, that it was your medicine that had made a difference, after all. Without it, I would have lost her.”, he concluded, his voice raw with unexpressed emotion. A moment of silence followed, an indrawn breath.

“Thank you!”

Although greatly humbled by the previous events, it must not have easily passed his lips … and yet, he seemed to feel the need to express this to him. A declaration so simple, as it was powerful, genuine, heartfelt.

Cal could appreciate that, inquiring if there was a chance she might make it now that her condition had stabilized at last.

Dagan nodded, ascertaining that until then, he would remain by her side and keep vigil over her quiescent state, waiting for a sign, however long it would take.

In case she woke again, he expressed his hopes that, should they meet again, may this be on better terms than their past encounters.

In case she did not … he paused with a pained expression, briefly closing his eyes, before continuing … then this should now be his bidding him a final farewell.

Cal, understanding the unspoken message, dared not pursue the question any further, and instead agreed expressly to Dagan’s sentiment regarding better future relations, before taking his leave.

Still deep in thought, he returned to his friends, who were already waiting for him at the Mantis, ready to take off for Jedha.

For Dagan, a long vigil remained, that would last another night and day, hours of uncertainty and doubt wearing on in a gruellingly slow pace.

In the silence that surrounded him, the voices in his mind kept on howling all the louder, seized with remorse, confronting him with every decision he made, every action he took - that ultimately led to this result, that he now realized were wrong - in an unceasing and damning judgement.

“If she dies, it is your fault!”, they would scream, and he knew there was nothing he could say to deny their allegations, that lessened his guilt in this matter even for one bit. That was the hardest thought to bear – that it was him, his pride, his obstinacy, and impatience, who had brought about this misery, him, of all people, who hurt her – the one he loved the most.

At this point, the voices that wondered about the “what if”s and “what could have been”s chimed in, telling him the tantalizing tale of chances lost, and all the roads not taken. If only he had listened to her …

At last, a breathed sigh that signalled her waking pulled him out of his thoughts, after a time that felt like an eternity, spent in his personal purgatory.

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal the soft brown gaze that he so often had lost himself in, that he was again losing himself in in this very moment. With quivering lips, he uttered her name, his voice shaky and raw.

Her mouth silently forming the syllables of his name in response, and the accompanying expression, the longing he felt mirrored in her eyes, were enough to push him over the edge.

A sudden, hot wave of emotion overtook him and before he knew, their lips were locking, and he was kissing her with a desperate, fervent hunger he had not known before – not like this.

When he finally let go, his eyes were moist, and two rivulets of tears, shed out of relief and regret in equal measure, were trickling down his face. His heart was screaming and pleading her to forgive him, but the words just barely escaped his mouth. Dainty fingers reached up and softly brushed his cheek, concern and understanding in her eyes.

Just as he set on to speak again, she just lightly shook her head and pulled him in once more.

Slender arms wound tightly around his broad shoulders, and her hands delved deep into the silver masses of his hair, silken strands between her fingers.

His own remaining arm gently slid behind her back, supported by his force-conjured limb, to pull her up and close, always careful not to put too much pressure on her still fragile and healing form. Still, his hand was clutching the fabric of her tunic so hard it was almost shaking, clinging to her with the urgency of a drowning man.

As short and intense their previous kiss was, it was merely a prelude to the additional sweetness and depth of the one they shared now. She yielded under his touch like delicate flower petals under the rain, sinking back into the crook of his arm, as his lips were bearing down on hers with the full weight and ardour of the love he could not contain anymore.

After what seemed like ages, and yet too soon, their lips slowly parted, softly grazing, catching and releasing each other in feverish zeal in between, reluctant to let go.

They would remain, tightly entangled in their embrace, for a long while, trying to steady themselves, their breath still shaky from their madly racing heart. Trying to make up for the loss of his hand, that would have come up to rest at her face at this point, he inclined, giving her nose a gentle nudge with his own.

Santari, who knew the mannerisms of her beloved like no other, picked up his unspoken intention. Memories came welling up, unbidden, in a wave of guilt and regret that had never left her since their altercation on the Shattered Moon, overtaking her mind and finding their final release in a strangled sob, with her own heart begging for a forgiveness it would never grant itself, but knew it was already given by the one her plea was directed towards.

Like an answer, his cheek came to rest against hers, and their tears mingled, building bit by bit into a torrent, running in silence, until one of them finally rose to speak.

And there was so much to speak about, so much that they had to tell each other, that finally had to be said.

As they talked, they made their way up again, towards the top level of the observatory, with Santari leaning on Dagan for support, who had wrapped his arm around her in a protective manner, steadying her, attending her along the way, walking slowly, carefully.

When they arrived, the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky in a gradient of fire, that, itself, was fading into the darkening blue of the falling night, wherein the most luminous stars were already glimmering, scattered across the celestial landscape.

They sat down in the spot they so often had frequented once, two centuries in the past, gazing at the starlit sky, dreaming together. His arm remained, tightly wound around her and she sank into his embrace again, as he patiently, intently listened to her, before it was his turn again to speak, in an exchange that would yet become hours of unburdening their hearts.

It was already deep into the night when Dagan’s exhaustion eventually made itself known, getting the better of him after his prolonged, untiring vigil without rest. So, they laid down, snuggled up to each other on their makeshift bed under the stars, heads rested on his cloak, turned into a pillow for them both, and under Santari’s loving and watchful gaze, he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep – this time, with her keeping guard over him instead.

He woke to her humming, the caressing, feathery touch of her fingers running through his hair, and a smile as warm as the rays of the midday sun that now stood at its zenith in the sky. She was still in the same position she occupied last night, concerned not to rouse him all too early, but also not entirely willing to remove herself from his embrace either, savouring the languid hours of a morning slept-in in the arms of her love, something they were but seldomly granted to do in the past, watching the expression of serenity and peace gracing his exquisitely fair face.

She already felt better, invigorated even, and so did Dagan, who had regained his usual strength after his long overdue night’s rest.

Both agreed that it was now time for them to leave and they set out for the landing platform on which Santari’s ship was stationed.

The ship was an old relic from a bygone era, that Dagan immediately recognized as his own, that, despite its age and traces of usage, had served him well during his countless expeditions, bearing him to many faraway places, just as it now had borne her here.

So, instead of choosing a new one, she took his old ship and made it her own, just as he had planned to do with her droid. He could not help but chuckle at the thought.

Granted, it was an elegant vessel, with its streamlined form, and tasteful, spacious interior, that in its day had its use as the private transport of some aristocrat – at least that is what the previous owner had told him. What most stood out about it, though, was its great maneuverability and speed, that even time and use did not diminish – qualities that, aside from his own outstanding capabilities as a pilot, carried him through the Abyss and back again.

Whereto would it carry them now?

That was the one question that still remained. Where did they go now, without a home to return to!?

But the answer was - it did not matter – truly, it never did. All he knew and all that did matter now, was that he could go anywhere, anyplace, as long as she was with him. His true and only home was her - the home he could not live without, the home that he never wanted to be parted from again.

As he expressed these sentiments to her, he gave in to the thought that had been occupying his mind during the lonesome hours of his vigil, a rekindled dream of yore.

He took a step back, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers and his gaze, strangely intense, took on an almost imploring quality. Like this, he remained for a moment, his breath shaky, then he sank to his knee, finally daring to ask the once forbidden question that had long since been burning in his heart.

With a gasp of disbelief and recognition, her eyes widened …

It had been a secret dream of theirs, something they once had wondered about - she remembered it like yesterday - born in a blissful moment, as they lay in each other’s arms, snuggled together after lovemaking and immersed in the other’s eyes, exchanging drowsy kisses every now and again, they were envisioning what life would have been like for them together if they were no Jedi, dreaming up a possible scenario … just a woman and a man, bound by no other vows but the one that tied them together as one.

And they would go on - imagining the home they would have built and shared together, a small sanctuary just for the two of them - until they drifted off to sleep, only to wake up again in the life they had - the life of a scientist and a knight of the order, and a love lived in secrecy. Because that was all it was – just a fond wish, a lovely fantasy far beyond their grasp. Tanalorr was the closest they got, and yet it had been taken from them.

But now … times had changed - the order was gone, the Jedi but few, their doctrine a mere relic of the past, and they were free – free to do whatever they pleased – a second chance to try and seize, but even now she would not have dared to believe, to hope, he would be so bold and act – to actually ask her – and yet here they were.

Too overwhelmed to speak, she just stood there for a moment, her hand cupped over her quivering lips, gulping back a sob, before she fell down into his arms, finally blurting out the answer he so longed to hear. With a deep sigh of relief, betraying how tense and nervous he must have felt, he pulled her close and kissed her in his characteristic, passionate manner that always made her knees go weak.

~*~

Frankly, I don't think the assumption that they might have these desires is all that unreasonable, considering they had this dream of a shared home, that was at the core of their overarching plans of building a temple, and achieving great things for the order.

This is especially strong with Dagan … first of all – because it is mentioned by him in the game (along with other things being heavily implied).

When he bleeds his kyber crystal, his voice takes on an increasingly agitated tone, finally peaking when he refers to Tanalorr as “my home” - not his project, his contribution to the order, but his home - and then, when he mentions Santari’s betrayal, everything explodes.

Of course, you also, if not especially, need to consider his formative years as a slave on Arkania (at least how I imagine them to be like), and the influence these had on his needs and desires.

So, why should marrying the woman he loves not be one of these desires!? Maybe not of Dagan the knight, with his lofty and noble ambitions, but of Dagan the man, carrying this wish in his most secret heart.

It definitely sounds like something he would want, and actually act upon once he sees a chance – after all, he’s a very emotionally passionate person, prone to follow his heart’s desire, as well as his instincts more than anything else (just like Anakin), and someone who doesn’t give a f*** about conventions (also very much like Anakin, who also happens to be not the only Jedi ever to have tied the knot, btw – it is said there have always been some to have done this despite the “rules”).

Imho, he’d totally dig this idea of the completely committed nature of marriage, this absolute and unbreakable bond, as well as showing Santari his undying love and devotion this way. And the fact, that it’s very much an official thing – even better! The whole galaxy has to know, too!

As for Santari … I think her sentiments are absolutely the same, but she’s, of course, more the sober-minded and patient one, but not any less strong-willed, nor any less stubborn and defiant than him, if she truly wants something, mind you - it’s just that her nature allows her to act in a far more subtle manner.

One thing is certain - their actions have more than proven that their priorities and loyalties lie, first and foremost, with each other, and no one else!

Ultimately, I feel, getting married is such a great choice for them, because of their bond that runs so deep - a love that is not only profound and strong, but also enduring - and the magnitude of their attachment that is already present.

Sealing this bond in marriage - while being of singular personal importance to them, of course - would only be a symbolic act, in the end, to make said bond visible to the outside world. So, regarding their status as force user and Jedi, it would hardly have any relevance, as the attachment is already there anyway, as I said.

[ Btw, I can’t stand the attitude that emotional commitment and attachment has to be this exclusively negative thing, with predominantly negative consequences. It is said to only lead to the dark side, but, Imho, there is so much potential for the positive in these bonds – if only they can be channeled in a favourable direction.

Only a bond as deep and as powerful as this would be able to produce the emotional impulse of a magnitude strong enough to tear someone away from the grasp of the dark side for good, as was seen with Anakin. I’m actually more than a little surprised that this fact gets overlooked so constantly. Shame!

Besides - as if Jedi hooking up, sleeping around and just leaving with unfazed detachment because “muh rules”, even becoming deadbeat dads in the process, is any better … WTF! And no, producing force sensitive children and potential initiates for the order is no excuse. Ugh, I hate this argument! Whoever must have come up with that must have been a massive fuckboy…

Dagan definitely isn’t such a guy – quite the opposite, in fact!

Good that Luke got rid of that stupid mindset and rule! After all, his father fell, to a significant degree, just because of it. And I wonder how many Jedi did as well, who remain unmentioned – let alone the hearts that got broken because of it. ]

Maybe Tanalorr was the attempt to reconcile these two sides (the two Jedi versus the man and the woman), and make this dream, which he shared with Santari, a reality.

And, of course, "what happens in the Temple on Tanalorr stays in the Temple on Tanalorr", as I read somewhere. ;)

~*~

Some hours later, they were off, heading to Coruscant, leaving Koboh behind for a while, to accomplish what they had planned to do.

At Santari’s urging, they made a stopover at the nearest medical center, for Dagan to finally get a cybernetic replacement for his lost arm. Still full of remorse over what happened on the Shattered Moon base, she felt unable to find any peace of mind until at least the visible signs of the damage, that her saber had wrought, were undone. Dagan, who still felt the pain of his own regret as acutely, perceived her sorrow despite her composed demeanor, drew her in his still one-armed embrace, and tried to cheer her up, voicing his support of the idea, as it would enable him to hold her again like he used to. The prospect, as well as the disarming nonchalance in which it was stated, the playful smirk and the twinkle in his eye, still managed to conjure a smile on her face.

When they returned to Koboh two weeks later, now a married couple, they first made a visit to Pyloon’s Saloon, to look for Zee, as Santari had learned of her whereabouts after her initial arrival on the planet, and was looking forward to meet her old assistant, hoping for her to join them again – especially after the restoration of her memory.

Just as they wanted to enter the saloon, the Mantis emerged in the skies and landed on its usual place on the platform – Cal, Merrin, Greez, and Kata disembarked and came their way.

Cal, who was still reeling from Bode’s betrayal and loss, a downcast and sombre expression darkening his face, lightened up a little at their sight, seeming almost glad to see them.

Once inside, they were about to exchange greetings, still a little tense despite their recently changed, now more amicable relations, when Zee, who had recognized their voices from above, rushed down to greet them, only to be brought up short at the sight of Dagan, of whom she took note with no little bewilderment and shock, the memory of their last encounter still present in her mind.

But when the delicate figure, that clung to his side, his arm gently placed around her, turned her head in Zee’s direction and was immediately recognized as her old master, she came heading towards her in exuberant spirits, an overjoyed exclamation of “Master Khri!” ringing out of her vocalizer, and immediately assailed her with a plethora of questions, inquiring to know about the reason of her sudden appearance, which also aroused the attention of the others in their circle.

Santari explained everything Zee, as well as the others, wanted to know, in her usual calm and patient manner. It was the instant, when she was speaking about Dagan, referring to him as her husband, that took everyone by surprise, and for a moment there was silence.

While it was, by now, known to everyone but Zee, that the bond between Santari and Dagan was one of love (thanks to Cal’s account), none of them had expected the two Jedi to take it a step further and actually wed, in complete defiance of the rules the Order had instilled into them from early on.

Rules that were quickly brought up by the nonplussed droid, who just couldn’t believe her master would ever go against this doctrine - and now seemed so unconcerned about it, happy even, exchanging enamoured glances with her now-husband, who put his affections on display with a boldness that would have made Zee blush, had she been able to.

Curious enough, no one else seemed to have any objections, and, she didn’t know if she read it right, but there seemed to be a subtle note of approval, respect even, colouring the voice of young Cal Kestis, as he joined Merrin in expressing his congratulations to his fellow Jedi.

Following this, the conversation quickly evolved into a discussion about the recent events.

Eventually, they came to the conclusion that it was best to unite regarding the settlement on Tanalorr, as well as the redevelopment of the Jedi temple, and the new directions the teachings should be taken to.

The only matter left to sort out now were the Bedlam Raiders, and what was to happen with them, now that Dagan, their leader, and the only person with enough influence to rein them in, was to depart to Tanalorr.

That is what they were now planning to take care of, before starting their journey together with the others.

Before they set out for the Raiders’ Lucrehulk headquarters, Santari pulled a small device out of her pocket, a data carrier of sorts, and quickly restored Zee’s memory.

Out of consideration, the latter was allowed to wait in the Saloon for their return, instead of joining them on their mission to the place that still held nothing but bad memories for her. Greez, however, was grateful to have someone to help him with the preparations for the upcoming relocation.

~*~

So much for the key part of my AU.

Of course, there is more, but the most important aspect, the big turning point, has been dealt with here.