#hunt quinlan would have been better but still bad

[folieadeuxover]

if i had seen ‘prince hunt athalar danaan’ out of context in CC1, i would have just assumed that hunt had married ruhn

[ravendruidreads]

House of Flame and Shadow - Review

Author: Sarah J. Maas Saga: Crescent City (#3) Date Read: January 31, 2024 - February 3, 2024 Format: Physical Pages: 838

Characters: 8/10 Atmosphere: 8/10 Writing: 6/10 Plot: 7/10 Intrigue: 8/10 Logic: 6/10 Enjoyment: 7/10 Rating: 7.1/10 (4 stars) Spice Level: 4/5

I'm not really sure how to start this review, because I forgot to write it when the book was still fresh in my mind, but I will do my best.

The review is hidden below due to spoilers.

Let's start with the characters!

ACOTAR is not my favorite series in the Maasverse, but it was my first, and, like many people, it opened the door to Romantasy. Because of this, I was very excited about Bryce's Arc in Prythian, and SJM did not disappoint. It was interesting to see things from a different perspective. Rhys, who we know wants nothing more than to protect his people, being seen as a potential bad guy from Bryce's eyes was emotionally conflicting. I loved every moment of it, except when Bryce left Nesta and Az to fight the Middengard Wyrm alone (I could kill Bryce for that).

Moving back to Midgard, and onto our MMC. My opinion about Hunt has not changed with this book (I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not a Hunt girlie). In a universe with Rhys and Rowan, Hunt is lacking badly, and not even the fact that he's a lightning wielder (which is my soft spot) makes up for it. I think the most interesting characteristic that he has is that he was literally made by the prices of Hel for Bryce. Not gonna lie, that's kind of romantic (I'm choosing to ignore the red flags of this).

Hypaxia, baby, thank you for breaking up with Celestina for snitching on your friends. Hypaxia is one of the MVPs in this story because she ticks off all my bingo slots: she is hot, she is smart, she is a necromancer and Queen of the Dead.

Another MVP is Jesiba. I knew there was something big about her, but I never imagined she was one of the priestesses of Parthos. Saying that I cried and smiled and fell completely in love with Jesiba is an understatement.

Do you know who is not a MVP? Ithan and Tharion. Once again, boring. I could not care less about their plot and POVs, and, unfortunately, I have a feeling that CC4 will be an Ithan and Tharion based book.

I've been avoiding talking about Bryce, but I'm running out of characters. I know she's the main character, but she was annoying as fuck in this book and I lost count at how many times I rolled my eyes at her. I was especially displeased with her behavior toward Hunt's PTSD and feelings in general.

This story would have been so much better if the main characters were Lidia and Rhun. Lidia is such a badass and her plot twist made her even better. She reminds me a lot of Aelin (duh) with all the fire inside of her (literal and figuratively). Her backstory tore my heart apart. Her and Rhun's relationship is everything to me and so, so much better than Quinlan. The only reason I gave this book a 4/5 spice level is because of Lidia and Rhun. They carried not only the spice, but also the entire book on their backs.

Let's move on to plot and writing!

The plot was kind of predictable, at least the end was. Some parts felt rushed, others felt too dragged on and everything related to the wolves and Tharion was just unnecessary to the story. I feel like SJM could have easily avoided using their POVs and subplots in these three books to create a spin-off with just them.

The battle with the Asteri was very disappointing and anti-climatic. There was a big hype for it but it was over before it even started and I never felt truly concerned about any of the characters (not even when it was obvious that Bryce was dying because I knew she would be brought back to life. SJM refuses to have a melodramatic end for her main characters-even though I'd prefer that in this story). Another thing that was disappointing about the battle was all the concern for the antidote and trying to get it to Bryce and Hunt to unleash their ultimate powers, only for Bryce not to have taken it until after the story was over. Like... what the fuck? What was the point of it, then?

Speaking of POVs, there were too many POVs to keep count of and too many abrupt changes within the same chapter. I felt lost at times. However, thankfully, for this book there was a physical demarcation of POV change (I think my previous issues were due to reading a digital copy).

A good thing about the plot was all the lore we got about the Daglan/Asteri. Learning more about the story of Prythian and Midgard was very fun, especially when comparing the truth to what we had been told in previous books. Although there were a few moments during all this lore dump that felt a bit too real with real life, and I didn't need that identity crisis, thank you very much. I read to escape reality, not to be confronted with the harsh truths of my existence.

I think overall I enjoyed reading this book. I read 300 pages on the first day, because I couldn't set it aside, which is an improvement from the previous CC books. I definitely think my rating could (and will) be lowered to three stars with a re-read since it's on the cusp (for those who don't know, in the CAWPILE rating system, 3 stars is an interval score of 4.6 to 6.9, and 4 stars starts at a score of 7).

Honorable mention:

With that, she pulled Nesta to her in a tight embrace, and Bryce could have sworn something like pain and longing crossed Nesta's expression. Like she hadn't experienced a mom-hug for a long, long time.

Ember and Nesta's goodbye had me in tears. As someone who has lost her mother, I definitely relate to this.

A quote Quotes that stayed (don't ask me to pick one):

I love you. I fell in love with you in the depths of my soul, and it's my soul that will find yours again in the next life.

A world where people loved and valued books and learning so much that they were willing to die for them. Can you imagine what such a civilization was like?

[illusorygardens]

Xanatos would like to make it clear that this is one hundred percent karma. There is nothing else that this could possibly be.

Still, he has a newborn and newly orphaned baby swaddled in his admittedly scratchy Jedi robes, pirates hunting him down, no comms or backup, and a melted husk of metal that used to be his lightsaber. Today is not going great, really, and Xanatos almost considers screaming until he feels better about the situation, but he can already hear Master Sifo-Dyas nagging in his ear about putting a newborn in danger alongside himself.

That, and the fact that Bant, while close to seventeen now, would probably catch wind of it and decide that it's a great idea to do on missions. She's still very impressionable and very violent and this does not lend well to Xanatos' bad decision making. He hasn't made a bad decision on purpose since Bant became his Padawan. It's grating on him.

Ugh. Xanatos is also just now realizing he is, in fact, a responsible adult and role model. Kriffing sithspit.

...he's also realizing now that... well, shit, that extends to more than just Bant, Quinlan, Siri, and sometimes Obi-Wan. They let Xanatos teach. They let him in the crèche.

Ooookay, this is definitely a mental breakdown and existential crisis he needs to postpone. Because. You know. The pirates.

Xanatos bounces the baby—Barriss, her mother had named her—and breathes out slowly. Okay. First priority is to get Barriss the hell off this starliner that has become overrun by pirates. Second priority is to torch any evidence of Xanatos' slave-rescue mission from the starliner's databases; it's a failure, considering Xanatos' quarries are... no longer among the living.

Hell, nobody outside of Barriss, Xanatos, and the pirates are among the living anymore.

A third, very important priority is to get Barriss some formula or something. The starliner probably has some of that powder or something equally good on board, right? In case its passengers run out? Xanatos could fumble his way through making formula, assuming Barriss is capable of having formula.

...do Miralans even need formula? Do they need something different? Is Xanatos about to kill this baby?

He closes his eyes, takes a moment to center himself and shake out the nerves. He doesn't have the luxury to second guess things right now. Pirates who deal in sentient goods are currently hunting them down and Xanatos can't let them get this baby or any information on Xanatos' smuggling rings. He'll try and prepare some formula for Barriss and save it for later, for when she needs it. He'll slice into the starliner's computers, erase his and his quarries' presences. And then Xanatos will leave.

...this, Xanatos thinks, is the worst mission he's ever been on.

Xanatos secures Barriss closer to his chest, tells her the plan in a hushed voice because even though she can't understand it, it makes him feel better, and then takes off.

[fallout4reactsblog]

What if a sole survivor that’s a teenager(like 14-16 years old) begins to view the companions and faction leaders as parental figures, before slipping up and accidentally calling them “mom” or “dad”? Just a thought.

Ada: “Ah, shit.”

Sole patted themself down, checking their pockets, before sighing. “I knew I should’ve taken the time to skin those mole rats.”

“Is something missing?”

Curious, Ada leaned over to check the project they were working on. They slid to the side to accomodate her.

“I just don’t have enough leather to finish my armor mods. I wanted to put some pockets in my chestplate so I could carry a couple extra rolls of duct tape, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Leather?”

She checked back through her mental inventory, sizing up what she was carrying. Enamel bucket, ashtrays, pack of cigarettes...

“Ah, here we are.” She pulled out a baseball glove and handed it over. “Will this suffice?”

“Oh, yeah, this is perfect!” They beamed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime.”

If either of them noticed sole’s little slip-up, neither of them said a thing.

Cait: Sole reminded her too much of herself, some days. She knew their jaded expression, their thousand-yard stare, the haunted look of a kid who’d seen more than they should have. She knew more about them than they’d probably like, which was how she knew to stop them before they could do something they’d regret in the long run.

“No chems,” she said, plucking the canister of X-Cell out of their hands before they could get too close a look at it. It still felt dusty from its years laying in a Concord Speakeasy, and she wiped her hand on her pants.

“I know,” they huffed, rocking back on their heels. “I was just looking.”

“Well, don’t.” She tucked it into a back pocket, making a mental note to either toss it in the closest river or sell it first chance she got.

“It’s not like anything bad can happen from just looking at it, Cait. I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“You better not have been. If you start doin’ that shite-”

“I know.” Somehow, their tone remained patient. “I promised I wouldn’t do chems, and I won’t, okay, Mom?”

The breath left her like she’d been sucker punched. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, eyes wide, unable to form a thought, much less words. Was it really like that? Had she really let things go this far? How long until she ended up like-

“I mean, uh, Cait.”

She glanced up to see their face beginning to turn red, and they ducked their head.

“Sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t, I mean, I didn’t-” They huffed. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to be a parent or anything, and I don’t mean that you should, I just...”

They prattled on nervously, as if trying to comfort both of them, words going right past Cait’s head. To think sole thought of her as a mother. She couldn’t have that responsibility. Her parents had been trusted with a child, and look how she’d turned out. She couldn’t take that risk, not with sole, not when at any moment some switch could flip inside her and she’d turn into the monsters that had raised her.

She’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start.

Codsworth: “I was thinking about putting another mod on my pistol today,” they said, hunched over the kitchen table. They were poking at some circuit board or another, something that they’d never have been allowed to touch before the war. He eyed the screwdriver in their hands warily.

“A fine idea,” he said, resigning himself once again to the fact that a new world meant a new way of life for mum and sir’s child. “Perhaps a larger magazine?”

They chewed their lower lip thoughtfully, tightening a screw. “I was thinking something more quick-eject, you know? Speed in battle and all.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“The only reason I hadn’t done it was I needed some more adhesive. But since Carla stopped by again and she had some duct tape, we should be set.”

“As I recall, Miss Carla had more than enough for an extra set of sights as well. You asked me to remind you when you had enough material for a large scope, and by my measure, you should be there now.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” They nodded thoughtfully. “We can get that old hunting rifle in working order again. Thanks, Dad.”

He froze. Dad? Him? No, that wasn’t right. But they’d said it so casually, as if they hadn’t even realized they were saying it. Surely, they couldn’t have forgotten sir already. They’d had years with him as their father. Such things couldn’t be forgotten so easily.

“Sole.” He tried not to make his tone sound warning.

They, too, seemed to have realized what they’d said, ears beginning to turn red. “Sorry, Codsworth. I was just working and not thinking about it, and-”

“It’s alright. Such slip-ups happen, after all! We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t become a habit. After all, I’m simply the family Mr. Handy. Hardly a father. I wouldn’t want to take sir’s place.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“No need for apologies! We’ll simply call this a learning moment, for both of us.”

They sighed, “Sounds fair,” and returned to their work.

Curie: “You have your stimpaks, yes?”

They patted a pocket. “Got ‘em right here.”

��And your bandages?”

“In my bag.”

“Extra ammunition?”

They sighed. “Stop fussing, Mom. I told you, I’ve got everything I need.”

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. That was certainly an... interesting choice of words. 

“You see me as a maternal figure?”

“What?” They adjusted the straps on their bag, refusing to make eye contact.

“You referred to me as your mother. I am simply curious when you began to perceive me in such a role.”

“I don’t.” Their cheeks flushed, and they turned away further. “I didn’t call you ‘Mom,’ either.”

“Oh, but there is no need to be embarrassed! It is only natural for such things to happen. Your brain is still maturing, and as the primary provider of such maternal care in your life, it is predictable that you would-”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” They turned hastily to the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Curie.”

“Certainly. Au revoir.”

As she watched their retreating back, she let herself consider the happy hum in her chest. Did she want to be sole’s mother? Was it that she wanted to be their mother specifically, or was there simply a general maternal instinct that was now surfacing? It was intriguing that such an instinct could exist in her, since she could never have children, but perhaps there was some lingering Ms. Nanny instinct that was affecting her. No matter what, it was certainly interesting.

If sole saw her as a maternal figure, she’d do her best to provide.

Danse: He found sole leaning against a wall, panting. There was blood splattered across their armor, gun dangling loosely from their fingers, but they were smiling, which was good enough for him.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

They laughed a little and smeared some of the blood from their cheek. “That was quite the fight. We should’ve brought some backup, huh?”

He glanced over at the scribe Quinlan had sent along, who had been of even less use than he’d expected, but decided to let that go and focus on sole. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You fared quite well on your own, and for your level of training your performance was impressive.”

Their eyes flicked over to meet his. “For real?”

“I would never lie to you, especially in your field evaluation. You’ve come a long way.”

He caught a hint of their smile before they ducked their head. “Thanks, Dad.”

He paused, sucking in a breath. While it wasn’t an uncommon mistake, it wasn’t one he was exactly willing to overlook. Still, best to approach things tactfully to avoid embarrassment for them. “What was that?”

They wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What was what?”

The scribe, tapping at the terminal, decided that was his moment to be useful. “You called Paladin Danse ‘Dad.’”

“No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, Danse.’”

He allowed himself a smile. “I didn’t know you saw me as a father figure, sole.”

“I don’t.” Still, their flush of embarrassment betrayed them.

He waved a hand through the air. “It’s alright, Knight. You wouldn’t be the first to refer to their sponsor as Mom or Dad, and I sincerely doubt you’ll be the last.”

Really, they were a good kid. Young initiates usually tended to find a substitute parental figure in the ranks, and of all sole’s options, he was glad it was him. He could keep them on the right track, make sure they didn’t go astray. With any luck, they could probably take his position someday. 

All in all, this was a good thing for both of them.

Deacon: “Deeks, how does this jacket look on me?”

He glanced up from the hats in Fallon’s Basement to see sole tugging on the sleeves of a leather jacket. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it was just worn enough that he could believe it had seen some action. It wasn’t really their style, though; Agent Whisper tended more toward a softer kind of spy work, based more on charisma and less on punching people in the face.

“I like it,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s a new look for you.”

“I was thinking I should add a more badass disguise to my collection. Try for that intimidation factor every once in a while, you know?”

He tossed the idea around a moment before agreeing. “We could make it work. It’d need practice, though, and some other accessories.”

“We could go get a bat from Mo while we’re here.”

“Now you’re talking. You put a couple nails in that sucker, and boom. You’re halfway to badass city right there. We’ll just have to teach you how to actually use it so you don’t stab yourself by accident.”

“Yeah, sure, but you’ll teach me, right, Dad?”

He nearly choked. Shit. Did sole know something he didn’t? No, that couldn’t be true. He’d never had kids, despite how much Barbara wanted them. Plus, sole had known their father. He’d seen the body, still half in cryo in 111.

That left the fact that sole had come to see him as a father figure, which left him in the awkward position of either shutting that down, probably hurting their feelings in the process, or just letting it slide. But could he even consider the latter? He couldn’t be a father, not in this state. He couldn’t lie every other word and still consider himself a decent parental influence, now could he?

Still, that voice in the back of his head nagged, “Barbara would want you to say yes. She thought you’d be a good dad.”

“Deeks?”

They looked at him quizzically, obviously still looking for an answer.

He sighed and, just this once, gave in. “Sure, kid. I’ll teach you how. It’s not that much different from their intended use, really...”

Desdemona: She always had a certain fondness for sole’s reports. She never got to hear much about the missions, just a quick affirmation of success and not much else. Sole, though, sole always told her a story, starting from the beginning and highlighting anything that they thought was interesting.

“But, you know, they’re just raiders,” they said, twenty-some minutes after they’d started. “In the end, H2 got where he needed to go. Highrise will take it from here.”

She smiled and ruffled their hair, making them laugh. “Good work, agent. You’re making all of us proud.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

They froze immediately, realizing what they had said, but their moment of embarrassment was cut short by Tom’s sigh of relief.

“Finally! You know how long we’ve been waiting for this? You took so long to join the club.”

Glory caught sole’s look of confusion and added, “Everyone calls Dez ‘Mom’ at some point. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

They looked to Dez for affirmation, and she could only nod. 

“It’s true. It happens to everyone, sooner or later. I’m more than used to it by now.”

“You sure?” they asked, voice still hesitant.

“Positive. The only one that hasn’t is PAM, and she doesn’t have the capability.”

“Give her time,” Tom said. “She’ll get there.”

Gage: “You’re being stupid,” he snarled.

They glared back with surprising intensity. “You’re being a prick. You said yourself, I’m the Overboss. Things go how I want them to.”

How they’d managed that little trick, he didn’t know, but he hated it more and more every day. “Bein’ the Overboss doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to anyone. You’re still new here. You better show me some respect.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dad,” they snapped.

That only pissed him off more. “What did you just call me, you little shit?”

They blinked, anger seeming to cool for a second. “Gage. What else?”

“No, you called me Dad.” His temper settled in return, hovering at a simmer. “Like this is some sort of family reunion or some shit.”

They snorted. “As if.”

“Don’t try and take it back now. I heard you.”

“You’re old and losing your hearing. Old fucker.”

His temper flared again, and despite that he knew they were baiting him, he couldn’t resist. “What was that?”

“What, I need to enunciate everything for you? Do you need your hearing aids, Grandpa?”

“What the fuck is a hearing aid?”

“What do you think, dumbass? It lets you hear better when you get old and lose your hearing. Like you.”

A knock on the door interrupted what he was going to say, and he snapped his mouth closed with irritation.

“Overboss?” The voice was muffled through the door. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” They dusted their hands on their pants, anger instantly melting into a mask of cold determination. “Come on, Gage. Work to do.”

He huffed and resolved they would finish this later.

Hancock: He was always impressed with how well sole handled Goodneighbor. It went to show that they were much tougher than their age and pre-war softness let on; that this kid who looked like they’d never even handled a gun would shoot you without question if threatened. He’d seen how they’d handled Finn.

“Cold today,” they said, blowing into their hands. “This wind is killer. You wanna head inside and check up on things while I barter here?”

They gestured in the general direction of KLEO’s shop, and he chuckled. 

“I dunno. Maybe the big, bad mayor better stick around to make sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

They rolled their eyes. “Come on, Dad. I can handle myself, you know.”

They realized their mistake before he did, eyes widening, jaw snapping shut. He faltered, snappy words dying in his mouth before he got hold of himself again. Dad? Were they kidding? Their face said they weren’t.

“Woah, now.” He held up his hands. “It ain’t like that, kid. I’m not exactly the fatherly type, y’know. Cool uncle, maybe, but I ain’t anybody’s Dad.”

They huffed, clearly embarrassed, and diverted him by saying, “Bet you’ve been more than one somebody’s Daddy, though.”

“That’s more like it.” He nudged them in KLEO’s direction. “You go do your shopping, and I’ll go make sure they ain’t burnin’ down my town while I’m away.”

“Sure. If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in Hotel Rexford.”

“Sounds fine. Get me somethin’ nice while you’re at it, huh?”

“Alright, but I’m charging you a convenience fee.”

Content that they were back on the same page, he agreed and went to find Fahrenheit.

MacCready: “Your fever’s gone down a little.” He rested a hand against their forehead. “Seems you’re gonna pull through.”

They smiled a little, eyes still hazy with sickness and medicine. Soon, they’d be on their feet again, he hoped.

“I bet you’re a good dad, Mac,” they said. “Duncan must really love you, huh?”

He let out a sigh. Sole had been strangely emotional ever since they got sick, which had annoyed him at first, but lately he’d just come to accept it. After all, there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there?

“Jeez, I don’t even know if he remembers me. It’s been a while since I got to see him.”

“He remembers you. I mean, I remember my dad, and he’s been dead for a couple hundred years now, I guess.” They laughed a little, as if they’d said something funny. “But you should go see him. Take a break. I’ll be fine without you.”

“Nah, we’ll go together. After all, he’ll probably want to meet you.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. He’ll probably see you as some kind of adopted older sibling or something. You’ll get along.”

They exhaustion in their laugh betrayed them. “Sure, whatever you say, Dad.”

There was a wryness in their voice, an almost mocking note that told him they’d meant it as a joke, but long after they’d fallen asleep, he sat at their bedside, watching them. He’d thought he was joking, too, but now that he was along with his thoughts, he had to wonder. Maybe he did want them to meet Duncan, and maybe he did want them to get along like siblings. Could he do that? Was that wrong?

He sighed and rose from his chair. No use worrying about it now. Sole had probably been joking about him going to DC anyway. After all, there was work to be done here.

They definitely weren’t going anywhere until they were better, though. For now, he had to focus on making sure they pulled through.

Maxson: He watched them across the table as they studied the map of the Commonwealth spread between them. It was a crude battle plan, mostly consisting of bottlecaps and buttons, but it was enough for them to discuss. He found he was regularly impressed by their knowledge in this area; in many ways, they reminded him of himself at that age.

“What if we swung south?” They pushed three bottlecaps across the table. “The way C.I.T is set up makes anything but a direct assault difficult, but we could try to split their forces, or at least their fire.”

He hummed, considering. “You’re still assuming we can’t assemble Prime in time.”

“Right. I’m concerned they’ll force our hand before we’re ready. We need to be prepared for that.”

“If you hope to split their fire, we’ll have to split our forces. That means we’ll need more men overall and be pulling more away from the airport, leaving us vulnerable.”

They scrunched their face as they thought about it. “You’re right, but in these circumstances we’re already at a disadvantage, don’t you think? We’re outgunned and outmanned.”

“Both of which can be overcome by outplanning them.” He leaned back in his chair. “What you lack in physical strength can often be overcome with mental acuity.”

They glanced away from the diorama to look at him. “That’s pretty good advice. Nice one, Dad.”

He felt his heart skip a beat. They had already returned to the diorama, now considering the forces around the airport, but he suddenly couldn’t focus. Sole considered him a father figure. Did he mean that much to them that he was someone they looked to for guidance, not just on the Prydwen, but in all aspects of their life? To be a father to them, to be able to guide them, was more than he could have ever asked for.

He cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Elder,’ Knight.”

“Hm?” They looked up again.

“You referred to me as something else. I’m reminding you that the proper title is ‘Elder.’“

“Oh. My apologies, Elder. It won’t happen again.”

He sighed. “I ask that you’re careful around the others. That is all.”

They nodded, mind clearly already on other things.

Nick: He watched them poke around Earl Sterling’s apartment, careful eyes taking everything in. He lingered by the doorway, letting them do their thing, curious to see how it would play out. He was taking a bit of a risk letting them work the case, but he figured he could clean up any mistakes they made along the way.

Mistake number one was probably letting them pick up all those beers, but he figured as long as he watched them sell them all, it would be fine.

“Aha!”

Triumphant, they emerged from where they had crouched on the floor, brandishing a piece of paper.

“Find somethin’?” He flicked his cigarette to the side, nudging it out with the toe of his boot.

“Some sort of receipt, I think. Facial reconstruction with Dr. Crocker. Appointment date... should have been sometime around his disappearance.”

“That means ol’ Doc could’ve been the last to see Earl alive.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good work, kid.”

They flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”

He raised an eyebrow, hoping they would realize their mistake on their own, but they were busy tucking the receipt into their bag. It seemed as though they hadn’t noticed at all, and after a moment of thought, he decided not to mention it. After all, there was no need to embarrass them. They’d realize what they’d said eventually.

Plus, it was kind of nice, in a way.

Piper: “You’ve got ink on your face.”

Sole glanced up from the freshly-printed edition of the paper, fingers wandering to their cheekbone. “Here?”

“Little to the left.”

“Here?”

“Less to the left.”

“Here?”

“Oh, just hold still.”

She leaned over, wiping the ink off their cheek with her thumb. It smeared a little bit, but was a marked improvement, and she scrubbed the rest away with the heel of her glove.

“There you go. Good as new.”

They nodded and returned their attention to the paper. “Thanks, Mom.”

They seemed to realize immediately, eyes widening, and Piper felt a sharp pain in her chest. 

“Aw, Blue, you know I’m not really...”

They visibly deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Piper.”

“Not like that.” She leaned forward, putting her coffee to the side. “I’m not upset by it. I’m just not that kind of person, that’s all. I’m like your older sister, not your Mom. I wouldn’t want to replace her. It’s not a big deal, just, you know, get it in your head.”

“Older sister?” That seemed to perk them up a bit, and she smiled.

“Yeah. You’re still part of the family, Blue. Just not like that.”

They smiled. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Preston: The first sign was always the quiet. Sole wasn’t likely to stay quiet for too long; they were always listening to the radio, humming or singing along. When it was quiet for too long, that usually meant they’d either wandered off without telling him, which was never good, or they’d fallen asleep somewhere.

Sign two was the glow of a lantern at the workbench. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work late into the night, but that was always accompanied by the sound of work: the screech of metal on metal, the hum of an engine, the rattling of loose hardware in its drawers. 

Quiet and light together meant they’d fallen asleep at the workbench. Again.

“Sole.” Gently, he shook their shoulder. “Come on. You can’t sleep here.”

They sat up, bleary-eyed, a sheet of orange plastic cut from a pumpkin stuck to their cheek. Almost unseeing, they looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning hum.

“Come on.” Gently, he pulled at their arm.

“Sorry, Dad.” They rubbed their eyes, rising on unsteady feet. “I’m going.”

A smile crept to his face as he led them across the Sanctuary street to their home, making sure they got settled. Almost instantly, they were asleep again, long hours of hard living catching up to them all at once. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.

It was too good to be true. They were just tired, and mistook him for their father in the dark. But still, a part of him wanted to believe that it was possible. Maybe he could be a father to sole. He could show them how to make it here, in this unfamiliar world, and support them as they grew into the General he knew they could be.

Maybe, just maybe, they would let him.

X6: He watched them pace back and forth in front of the door, coat tails swirling with every pivot. They adjusted their lapels for the fifth time, sighed, and glanced around for a clock.

“It’s only four twenty-five,” he said. “You’ve still got twenty-five minutes.”

They sighed and sank heavily into a chair. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

They groaned and dropped their head onto the table. “You said it was thirty minutes to go, like, an hour ago.”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

He set his gun on the table with a sigh and set his sunglasses beside them. “If you keep worrying about it, you’ll only work yourself up more, and the time will seem to pass slower. Your best move would be to get a cup of coffee and relax.”

“I can’t relax.” They leaned back in their chair. “It’s my first meeting as the director. Half of the Institute already hates me because I’m so young, so if I mess this up I’ll be out on the street by dawn. This is no time to relax.”

“If you don’t relax, you’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”

“I know, but it’s easier said than done, Dad.”

He blinked. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them properly, but his hearing was beyond satisfactory. If he’d heard it, they’d said it, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Case in point. You’re upset, you make mistakes. Like that.”

They sank their head into their hands. “You’re right. I’ll- I’ll get some coffee. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. Humans make mistakes, after all.”

[elsapheonix]

Wolffe with a halo

“Hey Wolffe, look there's a letter here” Gregor called

“Alright” I called

“It’s for you can I read it?” Gregor asked

“For me? Uhh no I’ll be there in just a second” I said and I left the Bedroom and went the table where Gregor was. He handed me the Letter. My breath caught when I saw the handwriting on the envelope

Return Address:

Wild space Coordinates

G-9 76937-O-930

Commander Wolffe Koon

Seelos

AT-AT Imperial Walker

“Oh my….” I said trailing off and then I tore into the letter before my fear caused me to throw it away.

My Beloved Wolffe Koon,

Kah-ta-yar Wolffe, how are you after all these years? These year go by slow without you here by my side, it’s been so long. I still love you more than anything else. Especially more than my own life. I even discarded rules for you. The Jedi Code was probably the biggest one, but I didn't care and i still don't. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about you, not a day goes by without me missing you, my Angel. It’s so hard being away from you day in and day out. It’s hard to do anything without you. You were, still are, and will always be my everything, my life, my world, my angel and my reason for living, for fighting, for existing. I believe it’s the will of the force that we meet and that I fell in love with you. Too me you are an Angel from the force. I could go on but then I’d need an entire notebook and it’s not easy to put a notebook in a envelope. You would know.

Do you ever think of the good times, Angel? About the Clone wars? I know I do. Almost everyday. The wolfpack was my family, My clan, My Aliit. Although they are not really my Brothers It sometimes felt as they were. Aliit ori'shya tal'din, Family is more than blood. I loved each and everyone of them, no man was just a clone. Losing then was the worst part of Order 66.

I miss everything of the clone wars, i guess when you grow up in a war zone you come too miss it when life changes. I miss taking down clankers, pranking shinnies with boost, leading assaults, hanging out with boost and sinker, destroying astromechs, fighting the sith, disobeying direct orders, Pissing off Rex, being able to use my lightsabers, spending countless hours with you doing ship duties, us breaking rules just so Master Plo would put us on deck duty while they all went down to battle, our countless arguments, even the ones over stupid things, scaring you with my piloting, you spending the night with me when I had the bad dreams, goofing off while doing paper work with you and the time we spent in the med after one of us had gotten hurt. I miss you're singing, and the silly little pet names you had for me. Most of all I miss Master Plo and you. I miss you more than him, Angel.

I had thought I had lost you forever after the purge, I wish I had not left you Angel, it has bothered me for longer than i can remember. I was a fool when I thought we were better a part, when in reality we are always better together. I had an harder time hiding from the empire on my own, I actually have been captured and escaped many times each time changing my name. I now go by Elisa Koon and have not been captured since Ahsoka and I started the rebels. I’ve made many reckless and stupid decisions. Some of them i’m sure would had been prevented had you been with me or had I stayed with you. I was a coward for leaving you and running like i did. I was afraid. I didn't even thank you for saving my life, Didn't even say goodbye. I abandoned you and I’m so so sorry.

I would like to see you again even if you don't look the same as you did before. It’s been so long and Rex says I need to stop pushing people away, I haven’t let anyone get close to me. He’s right I need to stop pushing people away and locking them out, Especially my Angelic Riduur. Speaking of Rex he couldn't figure out who I was and I eventually had to tell him who I was then he told me that you and gregor were camping out in an Imperial Walker on Seelos hunting Juppa's. That doesn't seem like a good way to spend the rest of your days.

Personally I think you’d be better off here with me Angel. I know you don't want too join our fight against the empire and you don't have to if you don't want too. I would never make you do anything. If you were to come I will protect you, I won't let anyone hurt you, never again. You remember that promise I made too you after Kholum right? Well, I’ll still stand too it. No one is ever going to hurt you again on my watch, not if I can help it, Angel.

I don't use my Lightsabers much anymore unless I have too, but I do keep them on me at all times, hidden of course. I mentioned I had to use a different name right? Elisa Koon, I have it as the shortened version of my real name Elizabeth Koon, Force how I hate that name. I’ve lost count of how many I have had. All have been shortened versions of my real one. I’ve used a different last name every time. I’ve been El Vizsla, Eliz Diana, Lily Uma, Lisa Tiana, Lisbeth Bonjo, Ela Vila, Izzy Tuttle, Libby Gulo, Beth Di Angelo, Bess Lupus, Bette Kyzie, Bessie Humble, and once I even used my full name Elizabeth Phoenix. Now I am Elisa Koon.

I decided it was time that I went back to my married name. I have even started to wear the diamond band you gave me again. If you do come I would like to redo our vows or even do a public wedding since the one we had was private. I’m sure you’d like that to.

We have found many of our Vods, Angel. Several of them, like yourself, don't want too fight so we provide them shelter and protection, I’m over that part of the rebellion. Some of them fight only as a last resort if we are really in a pickle, actually that's how all of them are. They like to help with planning and spare small jobs we have that need to be done, Comet, Sinker and Boost are some of the ones that are around.

The rebellion is lead by Ahsoka Tano, Separatist leader Commander Sato, Hera Syndulla and myself. We have been helping many systems who are in need because of the empire. Oh yeah, Senator bail Organa and princess Leia Organa secretly lead us in our fight while pretending to support the empire. I’ve edited my Armor, added extensions to it and made it bigger so it would fit me, I also changed it’s color from purple to grey. It’s markings match the ones on you're clone armor.

If you and Gregor do come I’ll find a cure for your fast aging. We’ve found cures for the ones that are here, aside from Rex, but it’s different for every clone, we have a serem but it has to be altered for every clone, we are currently altering it for Rex and I’m sure we could alter the serum for gregor. Not so sure about yourself since at one point you were a Werewolf. We may have to unblock the werewolf part of your blood, which would make you a wolf again.

I know you might not be too keen too that Idea but I highly doubt the serum could be altered for you seeing as you have wolfblood in you still. It wasn't actually removed like you thought I just used the force to contain it and make it inactive. We will try to do the serum but if we can't i’m going to free the wolf-blood. I don’t want you to die on me anytime soon. I don’t think I could live without you my beautiful Angel. It’s not fair that we are the same age yet you're near the end of your life.

It’s boring here, some of these guys have less personality than some of than some of the shinnes fresh off of Kamino did. And that’s saying something.

After battles were always fun with you and the wolfpack. Especially if Rex and the 501st were involved. Those boys were always having a party. I remember Rex’s favorite phrase at those times “It’s always a party in the 501st”

Master Skywalker is not Darth Vader like we thought he was. So the mystery of who Darth Vader is, is still open. Master Skywalker is currently being held at an imperial complex. Highest security one. I think the emperor is keeping him alive too use his force signature too give to whomever darth vader is too make it seem as if master Skywalker is Darth Vader.

I know for a fact he’s not I came across files, imperial files of where he is being kept and his cell number. That's not information I can put in this letter. I have a few guesses at who Vader is.

I think he is Master Jrul, Master Pong Krell, or Master Quinlan Vos. Though he could be another fallen Jedi I think these three are the most likely. This would be a conversation best for comms or better yet being face to face.

I really wish you were here with me Angel, I need someone who understands me. I need you more than I ever thought my Angel.

If you decide to come you can write and I’ll come pick you up or you can just call Rex, I’m not in the command center often so the chances of them getting a comm message to me is slim.

Hope too see you again Angel,

Love,

Elsa Phoenix-Koon

“I...She….” I stumbled over the words I wanted to say. Gregor took the letter from my hands, I was in complete shock and could feel my eyes starting to water. “She still loves me” I finally choke out

“Of course she does Wolffe, she’s your wife, she’ll love you no matter what” Gregor says

“She’d be safer finding someone else” I say

“You don’t really belive that do you?” Gregor says

“I miss her, but I don’t want to risk hurting her” I say

“I doubt you could ever hurt her, she’s a strong kid” Gregor says, “We should go, sounds too me that she really wants you there”

“But…”

“No buts” Gregor says “I’m comning Rex”

“Wonderful” I say when Gregor leaves the room.

[aion-rsa]

Star Wars: The Bad Batch Episode 8 Cameo Explained

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This Star Wars: The Bad Batch article contains spoilers.

Rumors of a cameo surrounded The Bad Batch in the days leading up to its eighth episode and “Reunion” doesn’t disappoint. The show has thus far worn its ties to The Clone Wars on its sleeve, down to its very protagonists, characters who were first formally introduced in season 7 of the Prequel era-set animated series. But it’s this cameo that solidifies The Bad Batch‘s place as a straight up sequel to The Clone Wars.

“Reunion” is a race against time to escape the Republic scrapyards of Bracca. Crosshair and a platoon of stormtroopers have the Bad Batch cornered inside the wreckage of an old Jedi cruiser and there’s little chance of an escape this time. But this is Star Wars, which means the heroes pull off the impossible by blowing up part of the cruiser’s engine, sending the nozzle tumbling through the scrap, a daring escape that could end with the heroes losing their lives. But again, this is Star Wars.

Unbeknownst to Hunter, there’s one last twist waiting for them by their ship. It’s Clone Wars bounty hunter Cad Bane (voiced once again by Corey Burton), the Duros Western-themed gunslinger who worked for the Separatists and Darth Sidious throughout the war with the Republic. This time, he’s been hired by the Kaminoans to bring Omega back to the cloning facility. Why they need Omega back and what’s they’re hiding still isn’t clear, but the fact that they’ve sent such a skilled bounty hunter to retrieve her means that she’s very important to Lama Su and Nala Se.

So, what do you need to know about Bane besides the fact that he’s a much faster shot than even a mutated super-clone like Hunter? During the Clone Wars, he had a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, the mercenary you called for the most dangerous (or top-secret) missions. It’s why he became Darth Sidious’ gun of choice during the war. At one point, Bane even broke into the Jedi Temple on Coruscant to steal a list of all of the known Force-sensitive children in the galaxy.

He also worked for Jabba the Hutt, alongside fellow bounty hunters Aurra Sing and IG-86, on a mission that led to a hostage situation in the Republic Senate building. Bane completed his mission — to free another Hutt gangster from a Coruscant prison — while subduing Anakin Skywalker with his team. Indeed, Bane is one of the few bounty hunters who could go toe to toe with powerful Jedi like Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Quinlan Vos.

In an interesting connection to Revenge of the Sith, Cad Bane was the villain originally hired to kidnap Supreme Chancellor Palpatine before General Grievous ever led an assault on Coruscant. But his mission to take Palpatine hostage while on a visit to Naboo was foiled by Obi-Wan just in the nick of time.

But how did Bane become such an elite bounty hunter in the first place? Well, he had a very good mentor: Jango Fett. The foremost bounty hunter of the Prequel era, whose DNA was used to create a massive Clone Army of the Republic, trained Bane in the ways of bounty hunting before the Mandalorian was killed on Geonosis.

In fact, Bane has a strong ties to both members of the Fett clan. When Boba Fett struck out on his own to become a bounty hunter like his father, it was Bane who took it upon himself to train the young clone as a way to return the favor to Jango. The name Boba Fett likely wouldn’t be as feared across the galaxy without Bane showing him the ropes.

But The Clone Wars once planned to pit Bane and Boba Fett against each other before the show ended its original run in 2014 (it returned in 2020 for 12-episode final season). An unproduced four-episode arc would have seen the two bounty hunters team up for a rescue mission on Tatooine. But this would have led to Bane and Boba Fett turning on each other, leading to a duel fans have been waiting to see since the storyline was first revealed by showrunner Dave Filoni.

An early animated version of the duel was finally revealed at a Star Wars Celebration 2017 panel:

As you can see, this scene would have explained how Boba Fett’s helmet got its signature dent, with Bane literally leaving his mark on the bounty hunter’s life. Meanwhile, the clip leaves Bane’s own fate open to interpretation. And to this day, fans continue to debate whether Bane dies in the scene…or somehow survives being shot in the head.

But now that Bane is on The Bad Batch, there’s an even better question to ask: does the bounty hunter’s reappearance mean we’ll finally get a fully-realized version of his duel with Boba Fett? Could the show even adapt part of that unproduced Clone Wars arc, making Omega the kidnapped kid Boba Fett is hired to rescue with the Bad Batch?

Either way, Cad Bane’s return brings up some very interesting possibilities, and we can’t wait to see how this all plays out.

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[gffa]

Star Wars - Dooku: Jedi Lost by Cavan Scot There’s a fascinating thing going on with Dooku: Jedi Lost that’s not remarked on directly, but is surprisingly consistently shown--that half-trained Force users are legitimately dangerous to themselves and others more than we might think, that exposure to the dark side of the Force (whether from within themselves or from an external source) can be disastrous if they don’t have the experience to control themselves. --> It starts when Dooku feels a tug through the Force, to find his biological sister Jenza and they tour through the Serenno Assembly Hall together, when he’s drawn to one of the sculptures, the connection he makes with it tears through his mind, the Tirra’Taka growling and he can’t look away from it, doesn’t even seem to hear Jenza when she calls for him not to touch it. But he does and the entire Assembly Hall collapses on them, trapping them underneath the rubble.  Whatever was calling to him through the Force, he wasn’t trained enough yet to deal with it and he and Jenza are both badly hurt and need to be rescued.  It tore through his head and made him scream in pain, not from the collapsing hall, but having that thing in his mind. --> Later, Dooku and Sifo-Dyas sneak into the Bogan Collection in the Jedi Temple, because they’re curious (and Lene Kostana tempted them into it, by leaving a few pages of a Sith bestiary out for them) and Dooku is drawn to a particular object, he’s fascinated by it.  Another roar starts up in his head and he sees the Tirra’Taka again, this time not just in his head, but in front of him. In panic, he flings outward with the Force, shattering every cabinet in the room and knocking Sifo-Dyas into a wall of artifacts hard enough that his arm is broken. --> After that, Dooku is convinced that Lene Kostana is actually a Sith herself and goes to confront her.  She dances around the subject, throwing out deliberate mild barbs and he can feel the dark side roiling off her.  So he rushes at her, lightsaber drawn and she continues teasing him, testing him, taunting him a little. Then his attacks turns serious, he gets swept up in the furious rush of it, and she says, okay, that’s enough, let’s calm down.  But he can’t stop, not until Yoda’s forced to intervene, and when things calm down, Dooku realizes the darkness he felt wasn’t in her, it was in him.  He'd been so turned around by that anger and darkness, so frenzied by that darkness, that he couldn’t tell what was real in those moments. --> Awhile later, after Dooku attends his biological mother’s funeral on Serenno, it basically all goes pear-shaped and he’s deeply upset by it and Jenza’s rejection of him at the time.  Because of this instability, when he and Lene and Sifo-Dyas continue their mission, he kills an entire group of smugglers in a rage, so deeply affected by the dark side on the planet that even Lene worries that he’s going to turn his blade on her, too.  Dooku, relating this in the holo-entry says, "Perhaps I would have, blinded by emotions I could barely control, emotions she had stirred by bringing me to Asusto.” --> Then they’re then trapped in a special moss that that bombards them with mental images of war and fighting and the return of the Sith, all of this done so a weird cult can use them to generate visions of the future.  This torture caused Dooku to lash out with Force lightning to kill them, which further slid him down a dark path.  Because the Jedi Council would not approve of Lene exposing the Padawans to the dark side, she insists that they keep this all a secret and instead of dealing with it properly, she teaches them an ancient ritual that uses soaked bindings to help infuse them with the light side. --> Once Sifo-Dyas is Knighted, Lene continues to work with him because his visions are so severe that he still needs help, the burden of them so great that it’s caused him to develop a stutter.  Still, Lene keeps taking him out to help her look for Sith artifacts that are out there in the galaxy that she wants to hunt down, because she’s convinced the artifacts are the key to telling if the Sith have returned or not. Ultimately, the missions that Lene was taking him on, the visions that she was encouraging behind the backs of the Council (whom she hid them from) and the missions he was in the middle of cause him to have a vision so strong that he writhes on the ground and his sanity fractures, damaging him even further beyond repair, it seems. All of these together, in just the one book, paint an incredibly clear picture of how the dark side affects Force-sensitives, how it takes so much discipline, an entire lifetime of it, to be able to handle it.  That if users aren’t properly trained and take incredible care, they can end up hurting themselves and others, sometimes in ways that can’t be fixed. The Force is vast and mysterious and brilliant and wonderful and amazing and connection, but it’s also unfathomable and endless and dangerous if you push too far or get drawn into something you don’t have a lifetime of training to handle. This is why a Jedi needs the most serious of minds to commit to this--because the Force can and will wreck you if you’re not incredibly careful.  It thoroughly wrecks Sifo-Dyas in this book.  It sinks its claws into Dooku, who cannot move beyond it and we all know his fate. This is why the Jedi are so damned careful about the dark side--not that you can’t show darker emotions, because they did that all the time, but that you cannot just let them run wild in you--because we are given an entire series of events in this book that show us exactly how much damage the dark side can do and it’s really bad.  It doesn’t mean that every single one who uses the dark side, who acts out of anger, will automatically be driven down that path, the Jedi would never have kept Anakin Skywalker around if that that were the case, because he acted out of anger a lot.  And he was told to learn to control himself better, because it’s about disciplining yourself to turn away from the dark, as George Lucas says about how the Force works.  The Jedi know that it’s part of everyone (they teach it to their children in the creche, as Qui-Gon says).  The Jedi knew that of course it was possible to come back from the dark side, that’s why they help Quinlan and Prosset. But it does mean that the Jedi are absolutely right that the dark side is dangerous and, once it starts getting its hooks in you, it’s something you have to watch out for always.  That it’s a lifelong challenge not to go down that road, to discipline yourself away from it. Not just because that’s a good lesson for all of us, according to the narrative themes of Star Wars, but because Dooku: Jedi Lost shows us multiple instances of how the danger level of that lack of control SKYROCKETS in Force-users.  It causes visions to appear before them.  It makes them doubt their psychic senses.  They can’t tell if it’s the other person’s anger or their own.  Those feelings linger with them and swoop around their heads until they’re lashing out because of the psychic empathic overload, sometimes killing people in that rage that’s shrieking in their heads.  Dooku is frequently in screaming pain from the dark side invading him, because that’s what the dark side does. TL;DR:  THE DARK SIDE IS REALLY DANGEROUS AND WILL WRECK YOU IF YOU DON’T HAVE YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.  HALF-TRAINED FORCE USERS WHO DO NOT HAVE THE LEVEL OF MASTERY OVER THEMSELVES ARE SUPER SUSCEPTIBLE TO THIS AND CAN GET REALLY, REALLY HURT.  AND DO GET REALLY HURT. (Quotes from Dooku: Jedi Lost for context under the Keep Reading!)

Dooku and Jenza in the Serenno Assembly Hall:

     JENZA: (EMBARRASSED) We should probably get back. We’re not even supposed to be in here. (BEAT) Dooku?      DOOKU: (NARRATION) A carving had caught my attention—an immense beast, larger than any malosaur, crawling up toward the domed ceiling. The creature’s crested head was thrown back, jaw stretched wide, roaring at the stars that were painted across the apex. Spines ridged its powerful back, wings spread wide as if ready to take flight.      And then there were its eyes…eyes, though fashioned in stone, that burned with an intensity that was all too familiar…      DOOKU: What is that?      JENZA: The Tirra’Taka? Just another legend. “The dragon that holds the world together…”      DOOKU: It’s beautiful.      DOOKU: (NARRATION) I couldn’t look away, walking toward the sculpture as if in a trance. It looked so alive, so vibrant, as if any minute it could spring from the wall to crash through the columns that held the domed roof in place.      I could feel the creature’s heart beating in my own chest, its roar echoing at the back of my mind…      We also hear the roar of the Tirra’Taka. It’s distorted, low, rising in volume beneath the following exchange.      JENZA: Dooku, what are you doing? Don’t—don’t touch it, okay? It’s supposed to be bad luck.      DOOKU: So beautiful.     The ground shakes, dust falling from above.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) I barely even noticed the ground shifting beneath our feet, flakes of paint falling from the ceiling high above…     JENZA: What was that?     DOOKU: (WHISPER) Tirra’Taka…     JENZA: Dooku—don’t!     DOOKU: (NARRATION) My fingers brushed the stone…and the world was torn apart…     A groundquake hits, shaking the foundations of the assembly hall.     JENZA: What did you do?     DOOKU: (NARRATION) I snapped from my reverie, cracks snaking across the polished marble before us.     DOOKU: Me? Nothing? What’s happening?     Another rumble, stronger this time.     JENZA: It’s a groundquake.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) But it wasn’t the scrape of tectonic plates that caused me to clasp my head in pain, but an impossible bellow slicing through my mind as easily as plasma carves through flesh…     The beast roars in his head.     DOOKU: (SCREAMS IN PAIN)     JENZA: Dooku!     DOOKU: So loud.     Another roar. More rumbles.     DOOKU: I can’t—(SCREAM)     The full force of the groundquake hits, the walls cracking.     JENZA:We need to get outside!     Masonry tumbles from the domed ceiling, crashing to the ground nearby. All the time, the monster bellows in Dooku’s head.     DOOKU:(PAINED) Make it stop!     JENZA: Dooku! Please. We need to move before the roof comes down! Dooku!     The assembly hall collapses on them.

Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in the Bogan Collection:

    DOOKU: Hey. Look at this.     SIFO-DYAS: Seriously. That’s what you want to look at? There’s all these…scrolls and weapons and whatever that creepy mask thing is, and you want to look at a lump of old metal?     DOOKU: There’s something about it…something I’ve felt before.     SIFO-DYAS: Doo. Look at this. I think it’s a parang. We start to hear a noise inside Dooku’s mind, a growl like he heard in the assembly hall on Serenno. Low. Ominous.     DOOKU: (WINCES)     SIFO-DYAS: Dooku?     DOOKU: Can’t you hear it?     SIFO-DYAS: Hear what?     DOOKU: The beast below.     SIFO-DYAS: Okay. Very funny. Drop the act. This place is spooky enough as it is.     The growl intensifies.     DOOKU: It’s coming.     SIFO-DYAS: What?     DOOKU: Coming for us. Coming for me.     SIFO-DYAS: Okay, now you’re freaking me out. Let’s look at something else, shall we?     The growl becomes a roar.     YOUNG DOOKU: (HOLO-NARRATION) And then it was in front of me, Jenza, fangs bared, wings outstretched. The same creature you showed me in the Assembly Hall. The Tirra’Taka. I can’t explain how but I could see it, feel its breath against my skin, its spines bristling, ready to attack, ready to tear us apart.     DOOKU: (SCARED) No.     SIFO-DYAS: Doo, calm down.     DOOKU: Stay back!     SIFO-DYAS: Dooku, there’s nothing there.     DOOKU: Can’t you see it? Why can’t you see it?     Sifo-Dyas goes to grab Dooku, as—in the young Jedi’s head—the monster prepares to attack.     DOOKU: (CRIES OUT IN FEAR)     YOUNG DOOKU: (HOLO-NARRATION) I pushed out with the Force, every cabinet in the Archive shattering at once. Sifo-Dyas was thrown back, smashing into a wall as artifacts tumbled to the floor.     SIFO-DYAS: (GRUNTS)      Alarms blare.     SIFO-DYAS: (GROANS) Why did you do that?     DOOKU: It’s gone. The creature.     SIFO-DYAS: What creature?     DOOKU: You couldn’t see it?     SIFO-DYAS: I don’t know what you’re talking about. (WINCES)     Dooku scrambles up, running to his friend, glass crunching beneath his feet.     DOOKU: Are you all right?     SIFO-DYAS: (WHIMPERING) My arm. I can’t move it.     DOOKU: That doesn’t look good.

Dooku and Lene Kostana’s Confrontation:

    LENE: Why would I be testing you?     DOOKU: To see if we’re like you.     LENE: Like me? What about me?     DOOKU: I can…feel it inside you. Frustration. Anger.     LENE: Is that so?     We hear the roar of the Tirra’Taka in Dooku’s mind. Distant, but insistent all the same.     DOOKU: (WINCES)     LENE: Initiate?     DOOKU: I sense the dark side.     LENE: You do?     Another roar.     DOOKU: It must be stopped.     LENE: And you’re the one to do it?     DOOKU: Yes.     YOUNG DOOKU: (HOLO-NARRATION) I launched myself at Kostana, my lightsaber slashing through the air only to be blocked…     LENE: Not bad. Tera Sinube said you showed promise.     They duel more, lightsabers crackling.

[.....]     DOOKU: I knew it. [STRIKE] You are a Sith.     LENE: There haven’t been Sith [STRIKE] for a thousand years.     DOOKU: They haven’t been discovered, you mean? [STRIKE]     LENE: Ha. I like you, Dooku. A good fighter. [STRIKE] Brave. Willing to go toe-to-toe with a [STRIKE] Dark Lord. Or should that be Dark Lady? [STRIKE] I never know.     DOOKU: [STRIKE] I won’t let you win.LENE:And what exactly will you do? Summon the beast you heard in the collection? [STRIKE] The beast you hear now?     DOOKU:(SUDDENLY UNSURE) I…I didn’t hear anything.     LENE:Are you sure? [STRIKE] You’ve locked it away. [STRIKE] But it’s still in there. In your memory. I can feel it.     DOOKU:Stop it. [STRIKE] You’re evil. [STRIKE] And I will stop you.     The fight intensifies, Dooku forcing Lene back against the railing as he strikes again, and again, and again.     YOUNG DOOKU: (HOLO-NARRATION) I don’t know what came over me. I’d always been so careful to keep my emotions in check, just as I’d been taught, but…I couldn’t control myself. I hacked at her time and time again, forcing her back to the edge of the balcony. All I could feel was her anger. Her rage…at least, I thought it was her. I couldn’t think, I could only act…and all the time, her convor flapped around our heads. Cawing. Screeching. Ready to claw out my eyes, anything to protect its mistress…     LENE: (DROPPING THE ACT AS SHE REALIZES HE’S LOSING CONTROL) Okay. That’s enough, Dooku.     DOOKU:No, it isn’t.     He’s becoming frenzied.     LENE:Dooku. Stop. [STRIKE] Stop! [STRIKE]     YODA:(FIRM) Stop.     Yoda’s sudden appearance stops the fight dead. [.....]     DOOKU: She admitted it herself…She was talking…about Darth…Darth Sakia…     YODA: Sakia? There was no such Sith.     DOOKU: How do you know? We can’t have known them all.     YODA: But know Kostana we can. Reach out with your feelings.     DOOKU: I did.     YODA:  No. Reached inside you did.     DOOKU:  What?     Lene extinguishes her lightsaber.     LENE:  Go ahead. I won’t resist. Tell me…have I been touched by the dark side, Initiate?     We focus on Dooku’s still-ragged breath for a beat and then…     DOOKU: I feel…I feel nothing.     YODA: Dooku. Your lightsaber.     DOOKU: I’m sorry. I…     He extinguishes his own blade.     DOOKU: I was so sure.

Lene & Dooku on Asusto:

    DOOKU:  (UNSURE) Okay. Eyes closed, it is.     LENE:  Now reach out with your emotions. But this time, open your mind to everything, not just the light. Remember how you felt on Mantero.     DOOKU:  What?     LENE: The anger you felt. The betrayal. Remember how your sister looked at you. Remember her fear. [.....]     DOOKU: (NARRATION) I burst through the foliage, my lightsaber flashing. The Abyssin drew their pulse-blasters, but I was too fast for them, slicing through first barrels and then limbs. But then…I couldn’t stop. I don’t know what it was, my shame over what had happened on Mantero or the dark side amplifying my fury as kyber focuses plasma. By the time my companions reached the clearing, the Abyssin were dead. I’ve read that the lumbering aliens can regenerate limbs, but there was no coming back from these injuries.     Cautiously, Lene ignited her own lightsaber, as if wary of me…     LENE:  Dooku. It’s over. They’re done.     DOOKU:  No. Their evil remains.     DOOKU:  (NARRATION)I turned, slicing down the piled crates, cleaving the nerve disruptors in two.     We hear Dooku breathe hard for a few moments before extinguishing his lightsaber.     SIFO-DYAS: You feeling better now?     DOOKU: No. Not while scum like this still exists. This is what we should be doing, Sifo. Not meditating, safe within Temple walls. We should be out here, restoring balance by whatever means possible.     LENE: (WARNING) Dooku.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) It was as though she feared I would turn my ire upon her. Perhaps I would have, blinded by emotions I could barely control, emotions she had stirred by bringing me to Asusto. But I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. None of us could. The moss Sifo-Dyas had first noticed had been slowly creeping into the glade, smothering the Abyssin’s corpses, rolling over our boots… [....]     DOOKU: (NARRATION)I could barely hear Lene screaming at me to stop, couldn’t even hear the squelch of the moss as it traveled up my legs and over my back, drawing me into a cocoon.My head was ablaze with voices, ghosts of the past and echoes of the future.     The ghostly voices assault him again, repeating, overlapping, becoming a cacophony.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (JENZA) Brother.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (YODA) Padawan.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (ARATH) Idiot.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (ANYA) Son.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (GORA) Freak.     GHOSTLY VOICE: (SAVAGE) Master.     DOOKU: (STRAINED) Stop them!     LENE: (PAINED) Padawans…this is an illusion…the dark side…     DOOKU: You can hear them, too?     SIFO-DYAS: The Force is with me. The Force is with me. (SIFO-DYAS REPEATS THIS OVER AND OVER AS A MANTRA, ADDING TO THE CACOPHONY.)     DOOKU: Lene. I can’t block them out. Help me.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (JENZA) Help him.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (YODA) Help him.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (ARATH) Help him.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (ANYA) Help him.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (GORA) Help him.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (SIDIOUS) Help yourself.     DOOKU: Lene! I can’t block them out.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) But Lene was gone, consumed by the moss. Sifo-Dyas, too, was swallowed up, the moss pouring into his eyes, into his mouth. My lightsaber was sucked from my hands, the lichen numbing my skin. I thrashed and twisted, trying to free myself, but there was no escape…     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (JENZA) No escape.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (ARATH) No escape.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (YODA) Escape.     OVERLAPPING GHOSTLY VOICE: (GORA) No escape.     DOOKU: (CHOKING) Help me. Somebody, please. Help—(GAGS AS HE’S SMOTHERED)     The moss squelches.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t even breathe. I was completely cocooned, consciousness slipping away… [....]     Dooku’s scream dies in his throat like a man waking from a nightmare. He breathes hard as he finds himself back in the cavern. All is quiet. The chanting has stopped. Only a few of the torches are still burning, the others having gone out.Force lightning crackles over the rocks.     LENE: (COMING AROUND) Dooku? How did we get down?     DOOKU: (SHAKEN) I don’t know.     She pushes herself up.     LENE: (DISGUSTED) What’s that smell?     DOOKU: (NOT SHOCKED) The Presagers.     LENE: They’re…They’ve been burned to a crisp. But how…?     Dooku turns.     DOOKU: (SCARED) Master…I…     LENE: Dooku. Your hands.     DOOKU: (NARRATION) I looked down at the indigo light crackling around my fingers… [....]     DOOKU: But…what are we going to tell Master Yoda?     LENE: Nothing.     DOOKU: But this isn’t like Mantero. The things we saw. (ASHAMED) The things we did.     LENE: Dooku, listen to me. Yoda already has doubts about my work. He tolerates what I do, but if he found out I exposed two Padawans to the dark side…     DOOKU: He’d shut you down.     LENE: In an instant. This has to be our secret. Do you understand?     DOOKU: It doesn’t feel right. He’s my Master.     LENE: And it pains me to ask you, Dooku. But the work is too important, to the Order, to the galaxy as a whole. You see that, don’t you? Especially now. You’ve seen the dark side. You know what it’s capable of.     DOOKU: What I’m capable of, you mean.     LENE: No. No, I don’t. The visions. (DROPS HER VOICE) The lightning. That wasn’t you. It was that place. But you’re stronger.     DOOKU:“The Force is strong.”     LENE:“The Force is strong.” Don’t worry. Please. The future you saw, whatever it was, won’t come to pass. I can guarantee it. You’re a good man, Dooku. A good man.

Sifo-Dyas’ exposure to all of this causes him terrible damage:

    BRAYLON: While I cannot get involved, I have a friend who doesn’t give a damn what the Council thinks of her.     Footsteps approach.      LENE: Hello, Dooku.     DOOKU: Lene. Sifo-Dyas.     When he speaks, we realize that Sifo-Dyas has developed a slight stutter.     SIFO-DYAS: Your shuttle awaits. [....]      RAMIL: Increase the voltage!     The shocks intensify, as does Dooku’s resolve.     DOOKU: I am Jedi! And I am not alone!     The action moves back down to the ground…     JENZA: (NARRATION) Below, on the ground, Dooku’s blade buzzed in my ear, while Sifo-Dyas writhed on the ground beside me, his mind aflame…     SIFO-DYAS: It is now. Coming into focus. The future.     And then, belowground, the Tirra’Taka howling.     JENZA: (NARRATION) And beneath our feet, Lene struggled to hold Dooku’s beast in place.     LENE:No. You must remain calm.     JENZA: (NARRATION) For that was exactly what it had become. One mind.     LENE:(HORRIFIED) No.     JENZA: (NARRATION)Two bodies.     LENE: Dooku! Don’t!     The Tirra’Taka roars, louder than ever. [....]     Deep below, the Tirra’Taka erupts into the air, bellowing.     JENZA: (NARRATION) The creature burst from the shattered ground, scaled wings blocking out the sun. Sifo-Dyas laughed as he saw it, his sanity fracturing forever, as the droids looked up in confusion. But I knew what it was, a legend made terrifying flesh. Our savior. I sprang up, barging into the droid that held Dooku’s lightsaber, knocking it back.     JENZA: (SHOUTING) Attack them! Now!     JENZA: (NARRATION) The refugees snatched up the weapons we had stolen from the fleeing Abyssin, blasting the droids before they could regroup.     We hear the sounds of battle, and the roar of the monster.     SECURITY DROID: Attack the creature! Attack the—     Force lightning swamps the droid before it can finish its sentence.     JENZA: Energy burst from the Tirra’Taka’s maw, washing over the security droids. The monster swept down, snatching the melting droids from the ground, crushing their bodies between its hooked talons like magella nuts.A figure clung to its serpentine tail, fingers curled around obsidian scales. She jumped when she saw Sifo-Dyas curled in a ball in the dirt.

[tessadoesstuff]

Run It With Love - Chapter 1

For the KOTOBER event from Tumblr!

For Day 1 - Beast

Next Chapter!

A non-linear story of Bly, Aayla, and Quinlan in the time of the Knights of the Old Republic games (about 3,800 years before the prequels) designed to be read without any knowledge of that game or time.

This story will eventually use all of the prompts from KOTOBER, although for the sake of my sanity I will be posting around 3 prompts a week rather than one a day :D

Thank you to LadyVadar and GoBayern for betaing this fic for me!

Aayla fiddles with the gloves she is wearing, even as she sends a cocky grin over to the crowded sidelines of the racing track. She scans the mass of sentients gathered at the dusty, questionably legal, sandy swoop-racing track until her eyes find where Quinlan has chosen his space. Aayla’s master is about 100 yards past the starting line, leaning over the edge of the track to wave at her. Mission has perched on his shoulders, cackling at something Quinlan must have said. The 14-year-old twi’lek is gripping Quinlan’s shoulders with her legs, her hands in the air, waving at Aayla. Admittedly, that was a very good way to get her attention and make sure she spotted them. Mission’s bright blue skin stood out from the dusty shades of green and brown worn by most of those local to Tatooine.

The organizer of the day’s races, Motta the Hutt, begins speaking over the intercom. He announces that the race would begin soon, which draws Aayla’s attention back to the track ahead of her. She tunes out the fake voice that one of the announcers is putting on – if she had to guess she would put her credits on the twi’lek girl trying to play up the stereotype of the weak, pretty female twi’lek. Whoever the announcer is, they’re repeating the fake backstory Aayla produced when she found herself in this time, declaring her the rookie racer this swoop-racing season.

A second, male announcer takes over as the start light ahead of Aayla starts to power on. She listens a little closer when the announcer mentions the time to beat. 23 seconds doesn’t seem too bad – she had watched racers on Taris do much better when she had watched the season opener. Although to be fair, that had been an entirely different track on a different planet.

Aayla flips the lever on the side of her speeder – no, they’re called swoop bikes at this point in time – to turn on the bike’s custom accelerator on and feels it hum to life beneath her, the extra power surging through the bike. As the lights begin to count down to the start of the race, Aayla wraps her hands around the throttle and brake controls attached to the handles of the speeder. As the go light turns green, Aayla slams the throttle trigger to the handlebar, squeezing it tight, and the bike leaps into motion.

Immediately she shifts to avoid the huge pile of debris in front of her, dodging left towards one of the ten acceleration pads placed along the track to give a boost of speed to a racer. As she passes over the pad, she slams her left handlebar forwards, releasing the speed that her accelerator has been building up. Combined, the two speed boosts send her shooting ahead. Through the air, she can feel the vibrations that mean the male announcer is commenting on something, but only barely.

Her lekku stream out behind her as she hits another speed panel and dodges between two more piles of the Hutt’s junk out on the field, the wind rushing around them as she gains speed until the only vibrations she can hear are the ringing songs of the air. She speeds over two more speed panels placed back to back, releasing her speed from the accelerator again as she hits the second pad, and its ever-so-slight slope is enough that she gets a fair amount of air as she does, and she sails over the ridge of sand left in the track by a previous racer. If her count is right, she’s ten seconds in, and almost halfway there. Her count has never been wrong in any of her practice runs.

The following pad is on the far side of the wide track, and at her high speed she only manages to clip the corner of it, but that sets her up for the next one. She squeezes between a rock arch and an artificial obstacle for a straight drive at the oncoming pad.

She takes a deep breath, and just as she reaches it, she slams both her handlebars forward to activate all of her accelerator’s speed, and then adds just a touch of brakes and twists the handlebars the way Anakin would twist the steering wheel when he pod-raced in the lower levels of Coruscant with her, and the bike shoots into the air, clearing two obstacles and sailing for a good hundred yards, despite the fact that the swoop bikes were clearly designed to hover at less than knee height above the ground.

In the air, Aayla sails over another speed pad without activating it, but the next two are in a straight shot to the finish line. On the ground, Aayla would have to dodge several obstacles to get to them, but airborne, she is able to sail right to them, landing on the tail end of the first and shooting straight at the second and final speed pad, releasing her accelerator’s speed for the last time as she shoots across the finish line.

In the end zone, Aayla lets go of the throttle, which she had been squeezing at max since the start of the race, and eases into the brace as she loops around the circular end zone. When the swoop bike finally comes to a rest, she hops off the bike and looks over to the entrance to the end zone. The gate slams open, and three figures come bounding through into the end zone.

“Bly!” She cries out, throwing her arms around her boyfriend, who gives a chuckle and hugs her back. “How did I do?” She asks. She had been moving too fast to hear when they announced her time. Bly gives a dopey grin back at her.

“22 and a half seconds. You did it! That gives you the top time today unless there are any late challengers.” Aayla grins, still full of the adrenaline from moving that fast. She can see less than half the track from where she’s standing. She leans forward and kisses Bly on each cheek, right on top of his golden tattoos.

“With a race like that? There won’t be any late challengers.” Sam comments from where they’re leaning against their swoop-bike, the Jedi checking the ignition and the accelerator on their swoop bike.

“I know! You were incredible!” Juhani adds. The cathar has one of the biggest grins Aayla has ever seen on her face, and the ponytail that is perched on the back of her head sways back and forth a little as the Jedi padawan bounces up and down a little.

“Oh please, my bike was incredible. You were okay.” Sam comments as they bang their lightsaber against the brakes. Aayla giggles, even as Juhani and Bly make twin noises of protest. “We should start heading back – we agreed to meet Master Vos and Mission outside the swoop offices,” Sam adds, and Aayla waves over one of Motta the Hutt’s employees to take Sam’s bike back to the swoop offices on one of their trailers, now that Sam has given it their thumbs up.

Once the bike was all loaded up, Aayla loops her arm through Bly’s and ducks out of the gate onto the path through the sandy Tatooine wastelands. Sam and Juhani follow one step behind them, the sand crunching under their feet as they begin their trek. The sun is beginning to set, so it is only horribly hot out, as opposed to the nearly deadly heat it had been when the races had started.

“When did you and Juhani get here, Sam? I thought the whole point of me riding this race was that you were going to be busy with our side project.” That gets a sigh out of Juhani.

“We hit a dead-end for today. Mission’s brother definitely came here with his girlfriend after he ditched Mission on Taris.” The cather offers, but that was hardly new news. They had heard as much from said ex-girlfriend when Mission had run into her on Dantooine.

“And Lena’s theory was definitely right – after she dumped Griff, he was employed by Czerka Corp for a while. Unfortunately, he’s missing right now, and the Czerka representative is being dodgy about answering any questions about him.” Sam adds on.

“The more I hear about Mission’s brother, the less I think he’s half the man she thinks he is,” Bly adds. “I mean, he was already on thin ice for abandoning his 12-year-old sister on a planet where the system is designed to oppress and marginalize non-humans like her. But every time I learn something new about him, he still manages to surprise me.” Bly grinds out. Aayla can feel his indignation strong in the force. Bly takes being a good older brother very seriously.

“And, the Czerka representative expressed that while they are too busy to look into it now, if someone were to, say, deal with their Sand People problem on the West Dune Sea, they would be more than happy to help. Not that they would be able to pay the said person.” Sam adds.

“You got to love casual, openly corrupt businesses, don’t you?” Aayla chimes in, and gets snorts of laughter from the others, so she considers it a success.

“It’s horrible. I can’t believe the things Czerka gets away with.” Juhani responds, her disapproval filling the force.

“So, what’s the plan? Do you need us to distract Mission again while you guys keep hunting down this lead?” Aayla chimes back in.

“If that’s possible? That would be ideal.” Sam responded, and Juhani nodded.

“Of course, it is. There’s another race tomorrow.” Aayla smirks.

“Maybe Mission will manage to drag Zaalbar to the race with her this time.” Bly offered, a fond smile on his face.

“I doubt it. I bet sand is a pain to get out of Wookie fur.” Sam chimes back in.

[elains]

BOOK REVIEW: HOUSE OF EARTH AND BLOOD, Crescent City Book I, by Sarah J. Maas.

First off, my sincerest thanks to @scraphim, who listened to my comments and rants with the patience of a saint and encourage me to put them down. Second, english is not my first language, so my apologies if there's anything confusing or awkward.

General Rating: ★★ 1/2

THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A CUT HERE OUT OF COURTESY BUT TUMBLR MOBILE IS BEING ITS IMPOSSIBLE SELF SO DO MIND THE RATING BEFORE CONTINUING.

Congratulations, Sarah J. Maas. You got me to sit down and write a review for a book, something I hadn't done (officially, anyway, might as well count the endless conversations with my friends) in a long while. Unfortunately, House of Earth and Blood was one more disappointment in an ever-growing list, and this review was born not out of pure, simple enjoyment, but of how much reading this bothered me.

Let me start by saying that I wanted to like this book. I did. I don't buy books which I don't think there's a chance I will not enjoy, I have way too much to do with my life and little money to spare on that. I hoped Sarah would go back to the early days of ToG, when the writing wasn't so choppy I kept questioning what is her problem with commas and when the characters weren't more and more of the same. Or perhaps that she would go back to ACoMaF, which at the time I loved reading.

Silly, silly me. The thing about having an eye-opener to something is that you can't go back. It's not so simple to close your eyes and pretend the bad doesn't exist, doing so feels irresponssible. I'm not sure her books have changed much, perhaps it was just me, the reader, whose perspective changed.

Let's go into the detail, then. Warning for spoilers of her previous books:

• THE LENGTH. It. Is. Ridiculosly. Long. I would say that length itself it's not necessarily a bad thing, something can be long but engaging. HoEaB's problem is that it drags on, to the point I had to put it down I don't know how many times out of frustration that nothing relevant happened. The infodumps do not help AT ALL, making the whole experience even more tiresome. I'll talk about worldbuilding separately, but jesus, so much unecessary information whose only purpose was to add to the wordcount and could have been woven into the story more organically. Readers are not dumb, they can make simple inferences, you don't need to explain every little detail.

The story only picks up and runs like the devil itself is chasing it in the last like, 20 chapters or so. Considering there are 97 of them... Yeah. It could have been a shorter, more direct and overall just more engaging.

• THE WORLDBUILD. I'll give Sarah J. Maas a point: it is more elaborate and refined compared to ToG and ACoTaR, whose worldbuilding are in general quite shallow and in the later's case, nearly nonexistent. However, the use of names blatantly lifted from real-world mythology and places bothered me to NO END. In a book which is built around those mythologies as their main source of inspiration, I can understand. Not here. Look, Maas can come up with original fantasy names, there are even some in HoEaB itself. But unless it's meant to be purposeful and Crescent City is to be Earth All Along, it's just jarring and feels lazy. It's not something new— refer back to the Illyrians and the Myrmidons.

Archean? Valbara? Pangera? Hel? REALLY? And those are just place names. Might as well name something Proterozoic. Or Laurasia.

The Roman inspiration, which was supposed to be a big thing from all her talk felt extremely loose and barely there. Oh sure, there are legions, a governor, the SPQR/M, and some names which to me, a portuguese speaker, where so cringy I had to laugh (Like Gelos and Cervo. You know, literally Ices and Stag or in that case Hind), but they did not feel Roman to me, naming aside. You could literally have named them anything else and it'd still have worked.

We studied Rome (mostly the government and the legal system) in our first semester of College and it might be the student in me, but I kept wanting to see more of the government structure, the politcal system itself. In a book that dealt with law enforcement and figures in places of power, this was a part of the worldbuilding that felt lacking, and a wasted opportunity to expand on the Roman inspiration.

What gets me is that some interesting concepts could have been explored better. I kinda like the idea of the Asteri, the rifts, the summoning salts.

• HUMANITY'S PORTRAYAL. Ahahaha. Where do I even begin with this one? In KoA, I hated that Aelin loosing her human side was seen as such a big sacrifice when the Fae were repeatedly shown to be "superior": stronger, more beautiful, immortal, the list goes on. Aelin herself preferred the Fae-side, so it felt a completely pointless sacrifice. In Crescent City, it gets even worse. Humanity is oppressed, trying to fight for their freedom and their inherent rights as sentient beings, and the books keeps going on and on about the Vanir.

Forgive me, but I'm supposed to be sympathize with the Vanir? To see the Vanir main-characters go on and change the world and make it better for everyone? I'm sorry but I'm not here for that. Bryce's mother and stepfather and Briggs aside, the HoEaB could have definetely used a human PoV or just. You know. ONE THAT DOESN'T FAVOR THE VANIR IN EVERYTHING. So yeah, I'm here cheering for the humans.

• THE CHARACTERS. I like Ruhn. He read like a concerned older brother, I could relate to that, not a possessive alphahole and I was baffled when Bryce kept insisting that. Oh, he has his flaws, but overall, I like him and his friends. They're nice. Danika, too. I would have liked to see more of Juniper and Fury, and them together, instead of using their relationship as kind of a surprise. Hypaxia is another Yrene/Sorscha. I also liked Lehabah, she was a sweetheart (Also I'm sorry am I supposed to think Bryce witholding the news on her freedom to throw a party WASN'T a WTF move? That Lele just knew because she looked at the documents???)

Now, to our main duo. I found Hunt boring. Simple as that. There was nothing in him that I found captivating, nothing new in terms of SJM's Love Interests. How he kept sexualizing Bryce in the most inappropriate of moments pissed me off. His and Bryce's relationship felt to me as Rowaelin 2.0, just as they themselves read as another versions of them, and not very different ones. He is not supposed to be an "alphahole" but... I didn't feel it. Hunt felt as just more of the same.

Now, Bryce Adelaide Quinlan.. Is it so much to ask for a main character who isn't gorgeous, super special, and super-powerful? I get the appeal of the trope, I'm no so hypocritical as to say that I've not indulged in it myself, but with Sarah, it feels overdone. When all characters are beautiful, special, so powerful it... kinda loses its meaning. However, that's not what bothered me about Bryce, no, it's the fact that she could be read as PoC (Golden, Tanned skin, two very ambiguous terms. My white cousin gets golden skin when she stays too long outdoors ffs), and as a PoC myself, reading her into those situations bothered me so, so much I cannot even begin to tell you.

Her curvy, sensual, bug boobs and butts are easily one of the more sought after where I live. People would go to great lengths for such a body and no, it will not hinder your dancing career. We have a word for it roughly translates to Hot, but having men call you that as something laid out on a table for their pleasure, objectifying you is horrible. And that's what most characters do in HoEaB: sexualize Bryce again and again, playing into harmful stereotypes.

My skin crawled reading those passages. I felt uncomfortable. And it wasn't even just the nameless, countless side-characters: it was Hunt himself. Every single move Bryce made was sexualized and I hated, hated it. "She's a Queen who owns her body and doesn't care for anyone else's thoughts" is all well and good, but women like me already have the stereotype of whores, sluts, homewreckers, and it was handled in such a tone-deaf way that it touched ALL of my wrong buttons. It was just uncomfortable, and cringy.

Two and a half stars, like those bad movies we still watch god knows why.

[myurbandream]

Sentinel Wars(3/?)

Thanks to all the lovely people who left comments and asked me about this little plot bunny…  I have written more.

On AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3:

~

Rex sticks close to Kenobi for the rest of that first duty shift. (And the following shift as well, because apparently Kenobi is a crazy person who works through his down-time and probably never sleeps. Now Rex knows where Commander Skywalker gets his bad habits from.)

Those twelve hours are the worst control Rex has ever had over his senses since he first manifested as a Sentinel. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to get lost in his head. All of his senses are clamoring for his attention, constantly focusing in on Kenobi’s scent, his voice and his breathing and the blood rushing in his veins, the shine of his eyes and the pale-on-pale tracery of scars on his hands. Barely an hour since he synced to Kenobi and Rex finds himself fighting the urge to tuck his nose under the fall of copper hair at the back of the Jedi’s neck and lick-

(mobile users, there’s a cut here…)

After that, Rex looks for the first opportunity to take Kenobi by the elbow and shove him into the nearest empty conference room.

“Captain, what-”

“Just-”  Rex fumbles, putting both hands up to grip Kenobi by the shoulders.  “Just hold still.”

He closes his eyes, finds the tang of disinfectant on the floor to anchor himself to reality, and lets go of his hearing.  It’s always been his strongest sense, and it’s the one aggravating him the most right now.  He keeps that sharp chemical scent at the forefront of his mind and allows the gentle thump of their echoing heartbeats to pull him under.

Finally free to wander, his brain starts cataloging: this is what Kenobi’s breathing sounds like, the beat of his heart and the rumble of his stomach.  This is the sound of his clothes against his skin, the susurration of his tunics as he shifts position, the brush of hair along his collar…

~

Obi-Wan isn’t entirely sure what Rex is doing, but there’s an extremely strange floaty feeling coming from his new connection to the Captain’s mind.  His emotions have gone blank and soft, quieter even than a dreaming mind produces - it’s almost like the clone is sedated or unconscious.  Obi-Wan has only felt that kind of emptiness from people in medical beds.

He doesn’t like it.

Obi-Wan reaches out across the empathic bond and nudges at the Captain’s mind, trying to wake him up.

Rex jumps like he’s been doused in cold water.  His eyes fly open and his hands clamp onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders.  A string of Mando'a expletives leaves his mouth, and: “Don’t do that!  Uh, sorry, sir.”

“No, sorry, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan apologizes, waving his hands uselessly in the space between them.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.  Your mind went away and it was… uncomfortable.”

“Kriff,” the Captain swears, letting go of Obi-Wan’s arms to rub his hands over his face.  “You felt that?  How do you feel-  Nevermind, don’t answer that right now.  I want to know, but…  Later.”

“Alright,” Obi-Wan nods, filing a mental note to discuss their empathic connection after his shift ends tonight.  “Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m trying to finish syncing with you,” Rex explains, with not a little frustration.  “Whatever happened at the briefing, it’s not usually like that, at least not with us clones.  It takes time to sync to someone, and I think, despite… this,” he waves one hand between them, “whatever this is, it isn’t complete.  I still need to finish the process.”

“Alright.”  Obi-Wan mentally files that away as well, one more question to ask Plo or Quinlan or another Jedi about, as soon as he gets the chance.  “What does that mean for right now?  In layman’s terms, please.”

“I need to deliberately get stuck on you, at least once with each of my senses.”  Rex glances at the chrono on his wrist guard.  “It’s gonna take time, and I know you have work to do, but we’ve got to at least start the process or I’m at risk of an uncontrolled zone-out.”

Obi-Wan frowns thoughtfully.  “It’s better to initiate it yourself in a controlled manner than put it off until it happens on its own?”

“You make it sound like a forest fire,” Rex says, smiling faintly.  “But yes, that’s basically it.  I need to focus one sense on a specific, present object, something to keep me anchored, and then let another sense fixate on whatever it wants - which at the moment is you.  That’s how syncing works.  The whole point is that I’m automatically tuned into you, so that if I get lost somewhere else I can find my way back to you.”

Obi-Wan manages not to twitch, but it’s a near thing.  That sounds… intimate.  He gives himself a mental shake and forcefully refocuses on the conversation.

“What I did just now, to wake you up,” he says, thinking of how Rex had startled free from that floating blankness at his mental poke.  “Would that be helpful or harmful to do again?”

Rex pauses, giving the question due thought.  “It definitely pulled me out of focus,” he muses, biting his lip for a moment.  “If I’m zoned out unintentionally, it would be the fastest and most effective way to anchor a Sentinel that I’ve ever heard of.  If I space out during a battle, that could literally save my life.  But if I’m using my senses deliberately, you could break my concentration just when it’s critically needed.”

“So it depends on the situation.  If I’m not there with you, or at least on comms with you, I won’t be able to tell whether you’re dangerously distracted or deliberately focusing on something.”  Now that is problematic, incredibly so.  Obi-Wan rubs at his beard absently.  He can’t see an easy solution.  It’s a worry for later tonight, though.

“For right now, then, what should I do?  What do you need?”

“Right now I need to work on syncing with you, properly, not that… instantaneous thing that happened during the briefing.  I need to get lost in my senses, one at a time, with you as the focal point.” Rex explains.  His brows furrow as he pauses, thinking.  “But… since you can apparently pull me out of my head at the first sign of rain, maybe I can speed up the process a little.  I think…”  He falls silent, staring into the middle distance for a moment, and Obi-Wan feels his mind ticking away lightning-fast across their bond.

“Yeah, I think it’ll work,” Rex decides.  “I’m going to do all five senses at once.  I can’t anchor myself that way, so you’ll have to pull me out of it like you did just now, but it means I don’t have to take the time to do each sense individually.  I’ll go under all at once, and you give it a count of five minutes or so, and then snap me out of it.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?”  Obi-Wan doesn’t like how risky this idea sounds.  It seems a lot like the Sentinel equivalent of learning to free-fall by jumping off the North Tower at the Temple.

Obi-Wan hated that class.

“Not a clue.”  Rex grins with all his teeth, and it reminds Obi-Wan very much of Cody’s predatory smirk right as they closed in on the Separatist forces on Christophsis.  “But honestly, to do this properly we’d need at least forty-eight hours in seclusion, and we don’t have time for that.  I’m improvising.”

“No wonder Anakin likes you,” Obi-Wan sighs.  “Alright.  I’m setting a timer.  Five minutes exactly.”  He taps through the functions on his wrist comm, setting it to beep at him when the allotted time is up.  Then he silences his comm calls, just in case.  If anyone really needs him, they can hunt him down physically using his comm’s location tracker.  “Ready when you are.”

Counter to his earlier brashness, Rex suddenly looks hesitant.  Obi-Wan almost doesn’t want to ask, but: “Is there a problem, Captain?”

“Something you should, uh… I should point out that taste is one of the five human senses.  Sir.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes dart down to Rex’s mouth entirely without his permission.  “Ah.  Yes.  What, um…?”

“Just your hand,” Rex blurts, twitching before visibly holding himself still.  “If I could…”

Obi-Wan removes one of his gloves and offers up his empty hand, trying to stay relaxed and pliant.  Rex cups both his palms under the back of Obi-Wan’s hand and steps closer, a little to the side, rotating Obi-Wan’s arm at the elbow so he can bring Obi-Wan’s bare wrist up to his face, pressing his nose to the skin at the edge of Obi-Wan’s tunic sleeve.

Rex inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering half-shut and locking with Obi-Wan’s gaze, holding them together.  Obi-Wan tamps down hard on his instinctive reaction to that expression.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Rex murmurs, a deep bass rumble appearing in his voice.  His breath is warm on Obi-Wan’s skin, making the hairs on his arm stand up under his sleeve.  “Start your timer.”

Then Rex presses his open mouth to Obi-Wan’s wrist, the tip of his tongue brushing skin, and Obi-Wan’s mind goes temporarily blank right along with Rex’s.

Obi-Wan fumbles for the button on his wrist comm.  This is going to be the longest five minutes of his life.

~

After a long moment of existence without time, only sensation, Rex surfaces up from his senses like a bubble floating to the top of a pool of water - more gently than he can ever remember doing before.  Normally, getting pulled out of a sense-trap is a shock to the system, breaking his concentration as forcefully as possible.  But this feels like… like waking up on a rare rest day as a kid, with no alarms, just the quiet return of awareness of the world outside his mind.

Rex blinks and closes his mouth, lips dragging over the pale skin of Kenobi’s wrist, and realises just then that they haven’t moved at all.  He lets go of Kenobi’s hand and drops his eyes in the same moment, stepping back and swallowing down his embarrassment.

He feels about a thousand times better, more focused, more in control of his senses.  A little embarrassment is worth it.

“Thanks,” Rex murmurs.

“Did that help?”  Kenobi asks, watching him carefully.

Rex nods.  “What did you do to wake me up?  It was different than the first time.”

“Waking up is a good metaphor,” Kenobi muses.  “When you focus on your senses to that extent, it feels like you’re unconscious, or lightly dreaming.  So I… I just pushed you towards consciousness, like waking up, just… gently.”  He gives Rex a hopeful look.  “Was that better?”

“For a deliberate zone-out, absolutely.”

“Then I’ll be sure to do so again in the future for similar circumstances.”

They stare at each other for a moment, silently evaluating the experience.  Almost as one, they nod and turn together for the door of the conference room.

As they step into the corridor again, Kenobi puts a hand on Rex’s arm, holding him still for a moment.

“If you need another moment, to center like that again, or just a moment of quiet, or anything else,” Kenobi waves his other hand expansively.  “Don’t let it fester.  I could feel your frustration building.  Just tell me what you need and I’ll make it happen.  Alright?”

“Yes sir,” Rex says.

Kenobi raises one eyebrow eloquently.

“Yes, Guide Kenobi.”  Rex tips his own eyebrow right back.  If Kenobi isn’t in charge of him when it comes to Sentinel matters, then Rex can call the man whatever the hell he wants.

“Better, I suppose.”  Kenobi sighs with elaborate exasperation, but he’s just barely smiling as he turns and walks away down the corridor.  The Jedi has a good sabacc face, and another brother might not notice, but Rex is synced to him now, at least partly.  He can see the minute flickers of Kenobi’s pupils, the twitch of muscles in his cheeks.  He knows what a suppressed smile looks like.

Being a bonded Sentinel isn’t anything remotely like Rex thought it would be.  He’s not sure how it’s going to work out - the connection between them is only hours old - but it’s been interesting so far.  Good, really, even with the constant surprises.  He’s looking forward to finding out where it goes.

~ to be continued??? ~

[fusrodie]

3, 8, 17, 22, 31, and 47 for Kieran? 10, 12, 23, 35, 36, and 48 for Rafa?

Thank you for the ask, and I’m sorry for taking so long! (this one had also been sitting in my drafts mostly done, for whatever reason.)

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon meme

for Kieran:

3: Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

Kieran does exercise, but it’s more of a practical thing than anything else. He doesn’t do it to get fit, or feel healthy, or anything like that. I doubt that wastelanders would bother with something like this anyway, but regardless. He ends up doing a lot of exercise without meaning to - he walks everywhere, bow wielding takes strength and effort, there is always something or another that needs repairs in his cabin, and he needs firewood to cook and warm up. Aside from that, surprisingly enough, you’ll find him doing some pushups or lifting something every now and again, usually in the morning. He does it because he needs to, though, and  it’s basically the only sort of self-care he allows himself, otherwise his body just doesn’t work. A lazy day means excruciating pain on the next one. Not to mention burning all that energy is one of the few things that helps him fall asleep at night.

8: Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Kieran has a lot of trouble cutting himself some slack, even when he’s feeling particularly lenient. He also doesn’t know himself well, and has never tried to discover what sorts of things would make him feel better after a stressful or flat out bad day. It’s pretty much a concept he’s never considered. He is aware that being around people is almost an indulgence, and he rarely allows himself that.

17: Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

For someone who grew up in a reclusive Maine village and later spent a year on raider-infested Quebec, Kieran has developed a fairly… Decent, dare I say, fashion sense. Mostly he wears what feels comfortable, and though he won’t admit it, he’s actually picky with it. Cargo pants, jeans, denim jackets, long sleeved shirts and t-shirts with funny writings he can’t read make up 80% of his wardrobe. He is also a big fan of leather jackets and fair isle knit sweaters. Despite the lumberjack aesthetic, he’s not big into plaids.

When it comes to rituals, he only has one - if he’s going out to hunt, he needs to tuck his shirt inside his pants, and the ends of his shoelaces somewhere he can’t see them. Otherwise it just feels like something’s wrong.

22: Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

If there’s someone nearby, he won’t touch it. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know what those things are for. If he’s alone, though? He’ll double check no one will see him and might attempt to write, or draw, something. But he will likely fail, because he barely remembers how to hold a pencil. Will do it with the wrong hand, as well, because I imagine that if trying to force a child’s laterality is still a thing today, it is possibly the norm where he grew up. He was taught to write with his right hand and never learned, because he’s left-handed; no one ever told him that, maybe, he could try using his other hand. Seeing a left-handed person writing would be fascinating for him.

31: Most prized possession?

The cookbook his mother gave him before he left the village. He still remembers leaving - she was the only one who knew what he intended to do, and promised she would take that secret to her grave. She prepared a little package with things she thought would be useful for him - clothes, blankets, a new knife, and her generations old family cookbook. She figured he’d need to know how to fend for himself, and having a book would give him good reason to actually try and start reading again.

47: How do they express love?

This is an interesting one. Kieran isn’t at all good at talking about his feelings, much less recognizing them for what they are. But he would express love through his actions. He’s an all around helpful person with people he cares about, but he’ll be even more so with a person he loves. Will cook something for you if he thinks you look hungry. Might give you random gifts because this just reminded him of you. Will help with repairs around your home, help water your crops, whatever it is he feels needs doing. He can get a bit suffocating sometimes, and it takes him some adjusting, but he doesn’t react poorly to getting told to back off a little. Being able to take care of someone is incredibly rewarding for him, but also new.

for Rafa:

10: Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

This is interesting, and something I’d never stopped to think about. But well: Rafa is extremely paranoid when the topic is the big, wild wasteland just outside his door. Strangely enough, the idea of dying doesn’t scare him; he’s scared of becoming a bloodthirsty raider if left to his own devices. He doesn’t get sent out into the wasteland often, but when he does, he takes extra precautions not to have much contact with anything capable of speech, and makes sure wherever he spends the night is a well hidden place. This because he had a very traumatic childhood - abused by his parents, denied the dignity of having a name, watching the only thing he ever befriended die a horrible death in front of him; he was then attacked by critters multiple times while waiting for his parents and trying to fend for himself, then ultimately a man tried to violate and sell him into slavery. The trauma stuck. His PTSD led to a deep depression and his reclusive behavior. That he was allowed to nurse that is, indirectly, Maxson’s fault: he was the one who allowed Rafael to say “no” to every mission, even when Cade gave the greenlight.

That he ends up on field missions is both a curse and a blessing - he gets triggered time and again and has some pretty nasty episodes, but is lucky enough to be sent on missions with the likes of Rhys and Haylen, some of his only friends in the Brotherhood. That Haylen has tact with people and had talked to Cade about Rafa’s condition beforehand helped a lot. He also gets the opportunity to read books on the subject, which proves to be important. Despite not ever opening his mouth about it, Rafa is very self-aware - he knows, roughly, what is wrong with him, and why. He dismisses it as simple, medical curiosity, but he starts hoarding material on mental illnesses and by the time he gets kicked out of the BoS and joins the Institute he is quite a bit better. He is all too aware his mind is his own worst enemy, and figures learning about his condition will give him at least a bit of comfort when times get rough. When he takes up the mantle of wandering wasteland doctor, he finds it quite rewarding to notice how many people he can treat while never ever touching them, just because his knowledge and experience taught him that not every ailment is strictly physical.

12: Favorite book genre?

He tends to prefer anything non-fiction. Nothing too boring, however, like physics books or manuals on engineering (looking at you, Brandon). We’re talking history, anthropology, biographies. He does read fiction books from time to time, and always ones that involve some sort of mystery. Crime novels, mainly. He’ll have a hard time admitting, but he’s also a fan of pre-war horror stories and fantasy. Ghosts, mythical creatures, aliens - he’s into it all.

23: How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Oh, boy. Very. At least when it comes to his work. He is the one in charge of papers because while Quinlan is mostly organized, Rafa takes it to another level. He is the one who accepts, sorts and files all the paperwork, and he is both very thorough and very good at what he does. This extends to every day life, and he leads it quite methodically.

He changes considerably after leaving the Institute, because for once his life and his work are not directly connected. He saw both the BoS and the Institute as his whole life, so he was overly organized always. Once he’s found a little place for himself in the Commonwealth, once he’s found something he enjoys doing, he starts to separate things. When it comes to work, everything is perfectly organized; but you’ll find a shirt or two laying around or a book misplaced in his bedroom.

35: What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Anything that isn’t work. Rafa has a hard time adjusting to the concept of fun. Again, because he sees his work as his whole life, and it’s all he’s ever known. He sees no point in doing anything else if it won’t benefit his work in some way. It’s part of the reason he gave up writing altogether.

36: What makes them feel guilty?

His apathy. Time and again he is given opportunities to do instead of watch and every single time, he turns those opportunities down out of fear. He pretends he is cold-hearted and maintains this stance even when called out, but at the end of the day, it makes it a little harder to fall asleep.

48: If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

It’s… Conflicting. Because he is a logical guy and tends to be an excellent strategist. He’s studied how to win a battle, he knows he must put some thought into it. But then his instincts kick in - he was born and raised in the wasteland, and he survived because he was quicker, more violent and reckless than his opponents. Fighting like your life depends on it is the best strategy he’s come across - but it’s ugly. He doesn’t like it. This usually means he’ll go in trying to keep things civilized, but by the time the fight is over there will be blood on the ground and it likely won’t be his. Or, at least, not just his.

[fireflyfish]

After the end - anything you want to share n Vaderkin, and how he feels about Obi-Wan, Padme, the empire, palpatine, what he did to the jedi...Also, did AtE Anakin ever have a crush on Obi-Wan, or was it only ever Padme for him?

I would like to say that I am thrilled with the reception this little fic has received. I started it mostly for myself and my Fem! Obi-Wan feels and the fact that anyone likes it, let alone wants to know about it just fills me with a lot of happy, squeaky glee. So thank you! ^_^

So... Vaderkin’s thoughts on...

Obi-Wan: He is torn because the part of him that we would recognize as Anakin (generally wants to do the right thing, understands killing innocents is bad, loves his children and wants what’s best for them) misses her intensely. Like talking about her in his sleep intensely.

When Anakin made his Faustian deal with Sidious, he didn’t really think much further than “If I do this, it will save Padme”. Life after saving Padme has not been the happily ever after he thought it was going to be and on top of that, he had always assumed that Obi-Wan would be there. She is his former master, his best friend, his partner! Of course she would be there! Of course she would betray the Order and come be with him.

So the fact that she’s not there and more importantly, she’s not there to support him is unbalancing for him. He wants her back. Obi-Wan belongs with Anakin. He’s going to do everything he can to get her back but he’s also not summoned the might of the Empire to hunt her down because he also kind of understands why she ran. He might not ever admit that to himself but he hasn’t tried as hard as he might have in canon to find Obi-Wan because finding her means bad things and he doesn’t want to hurt her anymore than he already has.

The Vader Aspect (murder is my hobby, what is my bidding my master? Ooo! Happy days! I get to kill Separatists!) wants to find Obi-Wan and hurt her. She left him. She abandoned him. She ran away. She belongs to him and she had no right to run away. How dare Obi-Wan leave him behind? She will regret abandoning him.

Vader is much more clear about what he wants from Obi-Wan.

Padme: He loves her. As much as a Sith Lord can love anything. He loves her very, very much. He had to, right? He did all of this for her, right? He murdered Mace Windu and Shaak Ti and everyone in the Jedi Temple for her. He. Loves. Her. Padme is his angel. The light of his life. HE. LOVES. HER. He did ALL of this for her and she had better appreciate it. He gave up Obi-Wan for Padme. She is his beautiful wife and now that she doesn’t have to worry about being a Senator she can spend all her time with Anakin and their children and everything is perfect and wonderful, RIGHT????

Sadly I can’t tell you anything else because that would be spoilers but Vaderkin is insistent that everyone knows that he loves Padme. So so much. He fell to the Dark Side for her and not for his own hunger for power and glory because he didn’t want that. He just wanted to save Padme’s life.

The Empire: Eh. It’s a better organized version of the Republic. He still can’t tell people what to do and there are still too many restraints on his power but it’s slowly but surely bringing peace to the galaxy and he doesn’t mind being a High General now or being called Lord Skywalker. He feels like he’s finally getting the respect that he was denied by the Jedi Council. But now he’s been thrown in the deep end of the political pool with some very skilled sharks and he’s a little concerned he’s not clever enough to deal with all of them.

But he would be if he could find Obi-Wan, because she always knew what to do when it came to politics. And Padme is not a part of that world anymore. Period. End of story.

Palpatine: He is not as nice a master as Obi-Wan was. That surprised him. Also, he doesn’t like Palpatine’s interest in Luke and Leia and his insistence that Anakin should spend more time away from them. He doesn’t mind doing things as Vader when the call arises but he doesn’t trust Palpatine very much. Obi-Wan and Padme managed to get through to him that Palpatine isn’t to be trusted and Vaderkin suspects that Palpatine isn’t sharing all of his vast Sith knowledge with him.

But he thinks Palpatine is doing a pretty good job running the Empire and he’s okay with being the poster boy for the New Galactic Order.

He is convinced he could take Palpatine in a fight if it came down to that.

Order 66/Operation Knightfall: The Jedi, minus Obi-Wan, were traitors who deserved what they got. He does not feel guilty. No he does not see the stabbed and mutilated bodies of the murdered when he visits Palpatine in the newly re-done Imperial Palace that was the old Jedi Temple. He does not hear them screaming. He does not smell the smoke and stench of death. None of these things bother him. Nope. He’s not seeing that. No way no how.

He does not know that Order 66 was activated against Ahsoka. Palpatine keeps most of the information pertaining to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka on a tight lockdown. He doesn’t know where Rex is and he doesn’t care who is leading the 212 as long that battalion is never on his ship or in his fleet.

Did AtE Anakin ever have a crush on Obi-Wan or was only ever Padme it for him?

He had complicated feelings about Obi-Wan. Yes. He thought she was beautiful woman. But he has loved Padme since the moment he met her because she is an angel and a queen and so petite and feminine! Padme is perfect and she loves him and he loves her and they are married!

Seriously, he would never, ever entertain those kinds of thoughts about Obi-Wan because... she’s Obi-Wan and there’s no way Obi-Wan has thoughts like that. Right? >_> Especially about him because if she did he would have known about it because they were so close and there was no way she could hid something like that from him. Right? Obi-Wan? You aren’t secretly in love with someone else right? LIKE BAIL KARKING ORGANA OR THAT KRIFFING QUINLAN VOS, RIGHT???

But he was furiously angry any time Obi-Wan did what Obi-Wan does, which is attempt to flirt her way out of a deadly situation before resorting to chopping limbs off like hungry man at an all you can eat Alaskan King crab shack. That was a terrible analogy. Anyway! Obi-Wan was very much like Anakin’s “work wife” and Padme was the wife he came home to. And that worked for a very long time until it didn’t.

I write fan fiction and I’m totally down with you visiting my inbox to ask my questions about my fics which are listed in the tags.

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 15

Note from Author:  This part was supposed to contain more, but it turned out longer than I assumed, so expect a Part 7 before another Interlude.

ʘ‿ʘ

Part 6

He took a step back and looked at the creature at his feet.  At some point, in the haze of torment and pain something inside the German’s head had snapped and he had tried to attack him, shooting the stinger out in a desperate fury.  He had grabbed it and nearly pulled it completely out of the strigoi’s body.  This would have killed it.  So, he had stopped halfway and then just ripped it in half, tossing the piece of it away from him in disgust.

Thomas gurgled and convulsed at the action and now just laid before him, curled into as small a ball as possible.  He ripped the head back, seeing the tears that streamed down his cheeks as he dropped another into the mouth, stepping back as he healed again.  This was becoming less enjoyable, as he just seemed to lay there through the pain, seeming to be increasingly numbed by it all.

It had given up.  No more begging, no more pleading, no more screams and no more movement.  Pity.  He was hoping for more fight than this.  It had only been a few hours, after all.  He’d had real men who had lasted through days of his torture before.  In the days before The Youngest was cast down, they had all been expected to share in the punishment of man.  Michael had made even Lucifer look merciful.

He stepped back and leaned against the wall with his back, waiting and watching for Thomas to move again, but he made no attempts at anything.

“I did not … “ He finally muttered to him, “I did not wish to hurt her.”  Michael sneered and reached down again, pulling the thing up to his face and Thomas whispered in quiet desperation, “I did not.”  For the first time since he’d started, Michael’s anger had dissipated enough for him to see the face and hear the words and it caused him pause as Thomas continued, “You know I am not lying.”

He wasn’t.  Michael could tell when any man lied.  This fact almost made him more angry, but he released his hold, allowing the German to stumble and gain his own footing, standing before the angel with his head bowed in weak and utter submission.

“Yet you did.”

“It was not my choice, My Lord.”  This was the truth.  “We have no choice any longer … once we become … this.”

“Did you enjoy it?”  He asked, looking for any kind of fuel to recharge his animosity.  “Did you enjoy hurting us?”

“I did not, My Lord.”  Another truth.  “I did not wish you pain.  I did not wish her pain.  I … liked her.”  Yet another truth and he hissed towards the thing as he leaned back against the wall again, bringing the bottom of his right foot up to rest against it while he crossed his arms.

“Yet, you tasted her.”

“Yes.”

“And now he has forsaken you.”

“Yes.”

Michael nodded.  “What is his plan now?”

“My Lord?”  Thomas blinked suddenly.

“I have been told you know him like none other.  Where is the final piece of my brother?”

“I know not.”  He pushed himself from the wall, stepping forward as Thomas flinched in submission, putting his palms up in defense, “I know not!”

“You lie to me, little plague.”  Michael could smell it on him.  “He has forsaken you.  He hunts you now.  Do you love him still?”

“I will love him always, My Lord …”  Truth.  This caused Michael to pause.  There was no treachery here, he could feel it.  “I love him the same as you.”

“I don’t love that thing … not anymore.  Now, tell me what I came to know NOW …”  He drew his sword quickly, showing it to the German as he used the blade to glint the street light into the creature’s eyes, “And I will give you a quick death.  Keep it from me and I will continue my previous work.”

Thomas looked up suddenly and smiled.  The look caused Michael to strike him again.  He hit the ground with extreme force but the German only laughed at this causing the anger of the angel to mount again, to boil within.

“YOU LAUGH AT ME?!”  He growled as he lifted the creature by his neck, listening to the tiny bones in it crack under his divine pressure.  The grip was too tight to allow any escape of sound, but he could see Thomas’ face as he continued his laugh in silence, “YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!”

One rib, two rib, three rib *cracked* … He crumpled to the ground and once he caught his breath, Thomas managed to cough words toward the angel, “You … you want something from me.”

“I WANT NOTHING, PLAGUE!”  The beast crunched and broke under his thundering punches and he resorted to kicking next.  When he was finished, Thomas was no longer conscious and he huffed, torquing his neck to crack it in frustration.

Shit.

Calm your fire.  He chastised himself clearly, hearing it in her voice, his Prophet’s voice.  He breathed and walked back and forth for a moment, pacing to generate a calmness within.

Calm.  Alright.

He bent to heal the German again, jolting him back to consciousness.  The little shit smiled again.

“Tell me what I want to know now.”

“You give away too much.”  Thomas’ smile did not abate.

Michael resisted hitting it again with every single fiber of his being, “I give nothing away.”

“Your emotions are so raw.  She has tainted you.  The same way that he tainted my Master.”  He raised his hand again as the strigoi continued to speak, unwilling to submit again, “Do what you will, My Lord.  But you have given it away already …”

He pushed the German back from his grip, causing it to stumble back as the smile continued, “What do you think I have given away, plague?”

“… That you need me …”

Dusk had come and gone while Quinlan sat on the swing bench, rocking it back and forth gently while she laid beside him, asleep on its wide planks.  He had not left her side since the episode started, regardless of how angry and testy she had become with him.  He knew she was not angry at him, understanding fully that the anger was not hers to control.

There were few words exchanged as it ultimately proved to be difficult to communicate with her in this state.  She had mentioned feeling something similar on the tank, but assumed it was motion sickness.  She admitted it was not the same though.  Not exactly.  It had not been nearly as strong as it was now.  She described it as distant, very far away, more like an itch.

He sat next to her though she demanded she was fine many times and bid him to take his leave.  The actual wording she had used was much more vulgar.  Eventually he wore down her reserve and she laid down on the cold planks, curling into a tight ball beside him and he had placed his hand on her shoulder.  He rocked the swing back and forth gently as it seemed to ease her agitation.  They were both in total agreement as he nudged her closer and she eventually rested her head fully on his leg.  

He had not noticed initially that he was humming along with the rhythm of his swinging until she was already asleep and because he didn’t wish to wake her, so he continued, or that was the excuse he gave himself.  It wasn’t entirely a hum though; it was more half-hum and half-rattle as he pulled air around and through the stinger in his chest, vibrating it slightly.

Initially, it had been one of Tasa’s melodies, until he realized it and he shifted to one of Liviana’s instead.  He had always preferred Tasa’s songs, but something about humming it for Dawn had made him feel guilty at this point in time.

He hadn’t realized he even remembered any of the songs until he was recreating them.  It brought back good and bad memories but everything melted away as he looked down, stroking her hair line with his bare thumb while he isolated his thoughts on the softness of her skin and her hair … focusing on the scent of it … of her … Angelica.  Of course.

He’d never found it was an overly pleasant scent until now.  He had come to appreciate its uniqueness.  It had a floral and earthiness to it and slowly he was coming to love it … just a little.

Hmmmm.  Perhaps more than just a little?  Perhaps.  Yes.  Completely.

As far as what he had felt from the Master in the past, this was obviously more intense.  His bouts had usually lasted many seconds to only a minute or so at the very longest.  A nauseating and overwhelming rush of pure uncontrollable emotion would put anyone in discomfort.

It had taken him hundreds of years to come to terms with this feeling, and he easily admitted to her that he could not imagine what such an extended occurrence of it would be like.  Experiencing this was not something that Quinlan had ever been able to share with anyone else and he had gone through all of it alone.  There was no reason for her to do the same.  Plus, he knew that this was undeniably his fault too; he had unlocked this within her.

He could hear the humans within and he had no idea who to expect when he heard the door begin to creak open but he was pleased to see Dutch emerge, with Dawn’s blanket in hand.  It was getting colder as the sun completely retreated and she sneaked over to laid it over the sleeping woman.

She went back inside without uttering a single word and it would be another hour before Dawn would stir awake, feeling normal and nearly balanced.  

Until then, he stared out across the water as the even fuller moon rose from the horizon, reflecting brightly against the still water of the lake.  He felt like he should be restless, like he should be eager to begin the hunt of the Master yet again, but he was not.  There was a peacefulness in this place.  He liked it far better than their other house but he worried over what would have such a crippling affect on her now. This only served to remind him that the war still ensued elsewhere.

What had transpired exactly …

And where …

… and most importantly … with whom?

Michael stared at him with eyes of flame as Thomas smiled back.  He was actually terrified, but he also knew that regardless of anything that transpired next, pain would be better than death.  He knew where his soul would go if he died, and from the word of the Master, this was not a fate he would be able to endure.  He would stave off that eventuality for as long as possible.

“Then we have a deal?”

Michael scoffed at him, “What makes you think I won’t just kill you after you tell me?”  Thomas blinked … Was he trying to talk him out of trusting him?  His honesty was almost stifling to the freed strigoi.

Thomas remained smiling, “Because I know many things about you, My Lord …”

“Do not test me, foul thing.”  A threat … No.  A promise.

“You are a man of your word.  I know this much.  He said that there was nothing more sacred to you.”

A laugh from the silver man, “Yet did you not say that I am tainted now … I am not who I once was, after all.”

Thomas looked at him with slight bewilderment, “My Lord, she did not change you.  She simply made you more of what you already were.”

“And what is that exactly, snake?” Michael furrowed his brow,  “Flawed?”

“The five were never flawed.  The rest–”  Thomas attempted and Michael swiftly interrupted as he brought the sword up to the man’s throat.

“Enough, silver tongued plague.  Tell me what I wish to know.”

“We have a deal then?”

A sigh and a surrender.  Michael resheathed his sword and crossed his arms, “So be it.”

“I know not where he is.”  Truth.

“You son of a bitch–”  The angel’s hand was on the hilt of his blade again, but Thomas spoke over his pending sentence.

“But you do, My Lord.”

The patience of the divine being was wearing thinner, “Do I now?”

“He seeks the gate.”

“Yes.  I figured as much.  He’ll never find it.  That knowledge was taken from him with his fall.”

“He lost The Call, yes.  He is no longer drawn to it, but he remembers where he fell, My Lord.  He remembers where you three cut him asunder.”

“I had no part of–”  The guilt on the angel’s face was painful.

“He remembers where you forsook him and he knows the gate cannot be far from there.  It is only a matter of time now.”

Michael laughed, “If he thinks he can take Heaven with a plague army, then he is madder than we left him.  He has forgotten our strength.”

Thomas smiled widely, “Oh no … no … no … he doesn’t seek the gate to return, My Lord.  He seeks the gate to destroy it.”

Michael cocked his head to the right, brows furrowing with confusion, “No.  That makes no sense.  They wished to return home.  The Truce–”  He sneered.

“The other six?  Oh yes.  But not my Master.  Never my Master.  This … all of this … it has never been about you nor Heaven, Great Governor.  He has never wished to return home.  For what?  To be allowed to grovel at the feet of the family who betrayed him?”

Michael shook his head in disbelief, though he knew Thomas spoke the truth, “It makes no sense.  You can’t destroy the gate.  It is not possible.”

“The Lumen is quite useful.  Telling us many things.  The power lies in the water and not the land.  An explosion, one of such blistering heat that is hot enough to evaporate all of the water–”

“Bah.  There are other gates.  They can be reopened.”

“Yessssss, there are.”  Thomas smiled, “That would take time, My Lord.  To reconstitute the waters–”

“What would it matter?  To what end?!”  Michael hissed, “We would come eventually and the battle would be swift.  We have purged the entire Earth before.”

“Time, My Lord.  To give us time to find the girl.  Eventually we will find her, you know.  The Born thinks he protects her, but he just keeps her alive … for us.”

“He is a fool.”

“Very much so, My Lord.  He is in love.”

Michael scoffed at the statement, laughing, “That barbarian?  He is incapable of such a thing!  I have seen the atrocities that he is capable of.”

“Believe what you will … but my Master felt it.” “It matter’s not.  What could your Master possibly still want from her?  I am here now.  He wished my attention, he has it.  And I promise that he will regret it.  He is but a shadow of Ozryel.”  Michael sneered, “And if he thinks that using her existence against me further will play well in his favor, then he has forgotten than I am more merciful … more understanding … than either of our remaining brothers.”

“She is still a means to an end.”

“A means to what end?!  Even if you turned the entire world, your army doesn’t stand a chance against mine.  He merely delays the inevitable.”

“Exactly.  EXACTLY.”  He chuckled, “We cannot defeat you … alone.”

“Alone?  Who do you think would aid you?”  Michael laughed out loud now and mused at Thomas’ statement, “Aid from whom?  Man?”  He laughed again.  “Man can’t even help themselves!!!  They shit on the very world that they were given.  They bicker amongst themselves like child–”

He hissed the words, savoring the look on the angel’s face as he delivered the news, “Such two dimensional thinking, My Lord.  It is disappointing as my Master spoke so highly of you.  He said you were the most creative of the five.  Do better …”

Michael’s smile faded and he considered, “There is no one else who … “  His words trailed and he finally blinked at the German, “Two dimen– … other gates?”  Revelation felt upon his face, “No.  No.  That is not possible.  He is locked away, little plague.  That cage cannot be ope–”

“No prison is foolproof, My Lord.  He simply needs a key.  And you have made him the most perfect and precious key.”  He reveled in the look on Michael’s face as he continued the confession.

“My Master hoped the boy would be that key, but his soul proved to be … Unbesiegbar.”

     (Unconquerable)

“Years of torment, years of pain … Unnachgiebig.”

    (Unyielding)

“Taking everything and everyone from him, yet … Unzerbrechlich.”

    (Unbreakable)

“No.”  Michael’s denial was fierce, “It doesn’t work like that.  It won’t–”

“This … “ Thomas flung his arms up in the air and spun, waving at the fallen city around them, “This has been a sleight of hand.  A distraction … for you.”  Michael shook his head, “You have been so focused here … on her.  My Lord, excavation has been underway for months now.”

Michael turned sharply to take his leave of Thomas, he face a contortion of anger and concern, “And you are wrong, creature … I have broken my word before.”  He said solemnly, his voice laced with sadness, before he began to take his leave from him.

Thomas called after him, “This is all possible because of you.  When he saw her eyes, everything changed.”  Michael spoke as he walked, without turning back to him again.

“I let you live only because he loves you.  The next time I see you, I end you.”

Thomas was alone again.  He looked down at both of his hands as he smiled.

[tessadoesstuff]

Run It With Love - Chapter 6

Day 6 - Revan 

(Sorry this is late, forgot to post on tumblr!)

A non-linear story of Bly, Aayla, and Quinlan in the time of the Knights of the Old Republic games (about 3,800 years before the prequels) designed to be read without any knowledge of that game or time.

First Chapter!  Previous Chapter!

The first time Sam ever remembers hearing about Darth Revan, it was during their escape from the crashing ship where their memories begin. The words echo and stick in Sam’s head, and Sam has no idea why.

"That smack to your head did more damage than I thought. Bastila's a Jedi. She was with the strike team that killed Darth Revan, Malak's Sith master. Bastila is the key to the whole Republic war effort. The Sith must have found out she was on the Endar Spire and set an ambush for us in this system. I believe Bastila was on one of the escape pods that crashed down here on Taris. For the sake of the Republic war effort, we have to try and find her."[1]    

Sam knows, deep in their soul, that those words are important, that they’re the key to something.

They’re not Sam’s first memory from after the amnesia. Their earliest memory is from twenty minutes before, being shaken awake in a bunk in the crashing Endar Spire . The man who had apparently been their bunkmate filled Sam in as quick as best they could, but Sam felt detached from the whole incident until Carth said those words.

On the surface, those words are what caught Sam, and drew them into this grand adventure. They led Sam to their partners, to Carth and Bastila, who quickly became two of the most important parts of Sam’s life. Those words set Sam on the path to find Bastila on Taris, which led to them being bonded in the Force. That bond became the key to Sam being trained as a Jedi, and the quest to find the Star Maps.

Which brings Sam back to Revan. The quest for the Star Maps which comes from visions they share with Bastila, visions of Revan and Malak hunting for the same Star Maps years ago.

At the end, Sam’s journey begins with Revan, and when they find the Star Maps to guide them to Malak’s weapon, this chapter of Sam’s journey will end with Revan too.

---

Bastila Shan has been tied to Revan as long as she can remember. When she first came to the Jedi Temple as a child, Revan was there. When they were just younglings, Bastila has been told they were briefly inseparable. Bastila doesn’t remember that so much, she just remembers when Revan reached a point when it wasn’t cool to have a little kid hanging around all the time. They had a fight, and Bastila stopped seeing Revan after that.

But that didn’t mean her ties to Revan were broken. Revan would always haunt her every step.

After her friendship with Revan ended, Bastila became fast friends with Lucian Draay, and whenever the other boy came to the temple, they would study together. However, as they grew, the world became tormented, and so did their friendship. The war that had taken place just before they were born, the war against the Sith Lord Exar-Kun had killed Lucian Draay’s father, and left him and the rest of the Jedi scattered and afraid. Lucian was always afraid of the return of the Sith. Bastila knows now he was likely even right, but at the time it seemed ridiculous.

When Revan began to speak out against the Jedi’s stance of neutrality in the budding Mandalorian Wars, Lucian protested, dug in his heels, and began to speak out about the return of the Sith. When Bastila confessed that while she supported the Jedi’s neutrality, she believed the Mandalorians a larger threat than the Sith, she and Lucian fought. She stopped seeing Lucian after that.

Lucian denounced her as a Revanist, despite the fact that she swears she wasn’t one.

Despite being called more and more a heretic by higher ranking Jedi as Revan continued to argue for the Jedi to go to war, Revan was still the brightest padawan of the generation. As Bastila progressed through her studies, she was surrounded by examples of the excellence of her childhood friend. Bastila was talented, and as such was constantly measured against Revan in every class.

That stopped when Revan left.

When Revan and Malak took most of their generation to go fight in The War alongside the republic, Bastila stopped hearing the name ‘Revan’ around the temple. At least, for a couple of years. The masters disapproved, and they were afraid that more of their ever shrinking group of padawans would follow Revan to war, that those who went off to war would fall the way so many had done during the war with Exar Kun. Bastila listened to the Masters and tried to forget all about Revan then.

The Masters were right to be concerned.

When the Republic won the Mandalorian Wars, Bastila thought Revan would finally come home. She remembered her best friend from childhood, the friend Lucian had never been to her, she saw that now. When Revan came back, she had promised herself, she would fix what had been broken.

Revan didn’t come back.

When Revan and Malak disappeared with more than two thirds of their forces and the Jedi that had been with them, the temple once again lit up with talk of Revan, of Revan’s disappearance. No one had any idea where they went, or how to bring them home again. Sometimes there were rumors of either Revan or Malak being seen around the outer rim, but they were never more than rumors.

It would have been better if they never came back from their hunt for the Star Maps.

When Revan did come back, it was as a fallen shadow of Bastila’s old friend. Revan wore a mask of steel and commanded armies that destroyed the Republic and terrorized its people. Revan came back as a Sith Lord. The Jedi council turned to Bastila, with the Battle Meditation ability she had crafted over her life. She was their only choice. She had to kill Revan.

Revan killed the others who went with Bastila, and for a moment Bastila wanted to do the same. Bastila refused to let the dark in then.

These days, Bastila keeps having visions of Revan’s lost days. Sam has the same visions. Bastila worries what that means. Revan hunted the same Star Maps, and now so do Sam and Bastila.

These days, Bastila holds the lovers her teacher told her she should be above having, holds Carth and Sam so very close, and tries not to think about Revan at all.

---

Carth Onasi has never met Revan. During the Mandalorian Wars, Carth was just a lieutenant, while Revan was functionally a general. There was never any reason for them to cross paths. But Revan was a brilliant strategist. The men and women Revan fought alongside won nearly every battle they engaged in, and Revan single handedly changed the tide of the war. Carth admired Revan during those days. The thought now makes Carth sick.

Carth used to think Revan was some sort of hero. A grand warrior who came out of a dangerously uncaring or even corrupt Jedi order, but who managed to rise above it to fight for what is right. Carth knows better now. The dangerously uncaring one was Revan. Who betrayed them so easily, who talked others into betraying  everything they’d known alongside them.

When Revan had left, over half of the Republic’s soldiers had gone too. It disgusted Carth; he couldn’t understand it at all. What Revan had done to earn that loyalty from so many? To earn that loyalty from Saul?

When Revan left, Admiral Saul Karath had gone with. Before that, Saul was Carth’s mentor, his friend, his confidant. And when Saul betrayed the Republic for Revan and Malak, he betrayed Carth to Revan and Malak.

After the desertion, Carth was promoted to Saul’s position. And when the desertion was revealed to be a betrayal? Carth led the battle against the new Sith Army, fighting throughout the outer rim. And so, Saul told Revan and Malak where to find Carth’s family.

Malak and Saul went to Telos IV together, and they destroyed the planet. Bombarded every city, every town, until there was nothing left living anywhere. That bombing  killed Carth’s family. Killed his wife and son. Killed Morgana and Dustil.

It was Saul’s fault, it was Malak’s fault, it was Revan’s fault.

As Carth holds those who now have his heart, clings to Sam and Bastila, he swears that he will kill Saul with his own hands, and that Saul, and Malak, will never touch them.

And yet, the ghosts of Revan remain.

---

Canderous Ordo has knelt at Revan’s feet, and has starred up from the ground at the cold steel mask Revan wore. It was Revan who brought the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders’ war against the Republic to an end, who put a stop to their conquest. It was Revan who demanded Mandalore’s unconditional surrender, and who claimed their weapons. Revan destroyed Mandalore.

Canderous does not hate Revan. Canderous respects Revan.

How can he not? When it came down to the end, the war between them was a battle of strategists, Canderous leading his warriors and Revan leading the Republic’s soldiers. When it came down to it, Revan had been willing to make the sacrifices and take the chances that allowed for the Republic Army to outmaneuver the Mandalorians, even when no one else was willing to give the orders to do so.

And in the end, when Canderous had crossed blades with Revan, Canderous had been soundly defeated, unable to so much as scratch Revan’s mask. How could Canderous not respect that strength?

Canderous has heard that what truly led to Revan’s death was a betrayal from the inside, from Malak. Canderous can believe that. No matter what Revan did, Canderous knows that Revan will always be the greatest warrior and tactician Canderous ever encountered.

---

Juhani knows that Revan was a bad Jedi and was an Objectively Bad Person. But still, Juhani can’t make herself forget.

Juhani knows that she will never forget how Revan saved her during the Mandalorian Wars, how Revan inspired her to finally leave Taris and go to Dantooine, who gave her the dream of becoming a Jedi.

Juhani will always remember her life on Taris, growing up hated by the humans who held all of the power, and the feeling of her family being the only Cathars on the planet. She knows she was shaped by her childhood as a refugee in the gang-ridden Undercity. She is haunted by the murder of her father, and the way her mother’s life faded out slowly after that until Juhani was alone.

When Juhani’s mother died, Juhani barely had time to make arrangements for the body before the Exchange came. Juhani will never forget the moment the big enforcers told her of her parent’s debt, or the way they took her afterwards.

Juhani can’t ever hate Revan because Juhani can’t ever forget the feeling of standing there, waiting to be sold, only for Revan to lead the Jedi to interrupt the sale, to save her. Because even though Revan never took off that mask, Juhani knows that Revan smiled at her.

---

To Jolee Bindo, Revan is just another page in the never-ending chain of Sith. An interlude between Exar Kun, Jolee’s first chapter, and Malak, Jolee’s current chapter. Revan isn’t even a particularly notable page - Jolee missed Revan’s entire life during his stay in Kashyyyk’s Shadowlands.

From what Jolee has heard and seen though, Revan was nothing special. Revan was just another Jedi, then just another soldier, and then was just another Sith. Jolee has seen hundreds of Jedi, Thousands of soldiers, and more Sith than he cares to count.

People talk about the shock of Revan’s betrayal as though Exar Kun had not done the exact same thing 50 years prior. They talk about the way Revan convinced other Jedi to desert, to fall, as though Exar Kun did not do the same thing first. As though Exar Kun did not convince Jedi to fall in far greater numbers, as though he did not lure away even the best of the Jedi, as though he did not lure away Jolee’s Nayama.

The galaxy talks about what Revan has done, about the people they know betraying them to follow Revan, as though Exar Kun did not inspire the same, as though Jolee never found his wife’s lightsaber at his through as her eyes glowed yellow.

The Jedi Jolee has encountered since returning from Kashyyk talk about the potential Revan had, how great a Jedi Revan could have been, as though there have not been hundreds of Jedi with great potential who never lived up to it. As though Zayne Carrick, Andor Vex, or Shad Jelevan were not padawans with equal potential who did not live up to their greatness the way they were expected too.

Jolee sees how the galaxy talks about how Revan was a brilliant tactician, how no one could outthink Revan, but he’s suitably underwhelmed. He remembers how Krynda Draay out-thought Exar Kun, how she rose up from loss to lead the Republic to victory.

Jolee Bindo never met Revan, but he remembers what came before Revan, and he will remember what comes after.

---

To Zaalbar, Revan doesn’t stand out. Revan is just another human in a galaxy of humans. Zaalbar never even heard the names of Revan or Malak before he left Kashyyyk. If the tales of Revan were told on Kashyyyk, it would be simply added to the list of terrible humans Zaalbar’s father once carved.

Revan was just another human slaver. The only difference is that Revan went after his own people rather than just the Wookies or the other sentients who don’t look like them.

To Zaalbar, Revan is nothing remarkable. The remarkable ones are those who are on board the Ebon Hawk with him, the ones who welcomed him as the family he has longed to have for so long.

---

Mission heard of Revan just once when she was a little girl, before Griff left. She heard of Revan in hushed tones, murmured between the people of Taris, after the destruction of the temple. The Jedi temple that had once been the pride of the governors of the planet, before it had been destroyed in order to chase the Mandalorians from Taris.

After the taxes were raised in the undercity so the governors could build an even more lavish temple to replace it, in hopes of drawing the Jedi back, that was when Mission first heard the name Revan. She learned that Revan was a champion of the non-humans of the galaxy, and that Revan wasn’t there when the temple fell.

Revan came later, to chase out the Mandalorians who remained, or so the stories tell. They talk of how Revan walked through the same filth covered streets they did, who stayed in the same filthy inns they did, who walked for a few days in their shoes.

To Mission and the people of the Undercity of Taris, Revan was a legend, a figure who brought ever so small a taste of equality. Even when the stories the people from the Uppercity told became tainted, talking of a darker Revan, they were considered just another political play by those who lived below. Another attempt to take away the light in their dark world.

Mission believed that as long as she could. She believed it right up until she was aboard the Ebon Hawk , looking out at the destruction Revan’s student rained down. Mission believed in Revan until Revan’s legacy left her one of the last survivors of Taris.

---

Revan first really mattered to Quinlan Vos during an undercover mission on the planet of Dromud Kaas, about six months before he was sent back in time. It was a terrible mission on a terrible planet, largely due to the cultists.

Even nearly four thousand years after the time of Revan, the cult of Revan remained, and Quinlan spent three months undercover in it. During that time, he learned very little, and none of the things he went there hoping to learn. Instead, he learned that many people learn of Revan and view Revan very differently. As Quinlan performed his initiation tasks, he dove deeper into the history of a figure that, while famous at the Jedi temple even in his time, had previously just been another historical figure.

To the cultists, Revan represented balance. The grey between the light Jedi and the dark Sith, given the time that Revan spent as both. They claimed to strive to walk that pathway, neither light nor dark. Quinlan wished that was possible. He didn’t believe it was back then – most of the cultists were deeply dark, and a few light enough that with training Quinlan would label them Jedi. There was no middle grey to be found there, despite their awareness of both.

Now here, in the era of Revan? Quinlan was more sure of that belief than ever before. There was no middle ground here in the galaxy. Those who had once been on the side of the republic were most assuredly not anymore. That did not make them half sith, half-republic, they were entirely Sith.

The same was true for the Jedi who had turned their backs and left their principals and teaching. They did not become grey, they became dark, Sith, the same way Quinlan very nearly had once. If they wanted to be anything but Sith, they would have to work every day to walk in the light the same way he does.

No matter what the cultists of Revan believe, Revan did not walk grey lines. Revan simply walked white and then black. In the force, no one ever managed to walk grey, no matter what they believed or how strong they were.

---

Notes:

1Directly quoting from KOTOR 1.[return to text]

did someone say world-building and foreshadowing? Too bad you get it anyways. Also, a wild Jolee makes his first appearnace.