#is the new republic just dead

[dykedvonte]

The Khans - My Introspective

I don't like the Military and I don't support a lot of the actions the NCR does to the Mojave in New Vegas but in terms of the Khans I feel like the fandom infantilizes or diminishes the fact that they are or at least one of the most violent raider groups in the Mojave.

What happened at Bitter Springs was a tragedy, innocent lives were lost and the fact that the NCR swept it under the rug and continued to hunt down Khans that are truly trying to back down and resettle is horrendous, but there is a history to the NCR's aggression towards them.

The Khans first appear in Fallout 1, the main faction of raiders in the game besides the mentioned Vipers (who don't actually appear if I remember correctly). They came from Vault 15 along with the members that would form rival groups; The Vipers, The Jackals, and Shady Sands. They are a very large and foreboding raiding party, known for burning towns and encampments they attack and taking survivors as their slaves or slaves to sell. They are a big reason why the Jackals and Vipers are actually so small in New Vegas, they wiped them out.

Their main targets where Shady Sands and Junker town, the former of the two would be what became The New California Republic. This explains a big part of their animosity towards the Khans, only furthered by the fact the Khans kidnapped Tandi as a young girl, the girl that would go to offically found the NCR out of Shady Sands. When the dweller saved her and killed much of the Khans, this allowed the NCR to develop into what it currently is as they no longer needed to focus on fighting off constant raids.

When the Khans became the New Khans in Fallout 2, they barely resembled the Khans as they were led by Darion, Garl Death-Hand's son (former leader of the Khans). They were smaller and refortified vault 15, still planning to take down the NCR (at this time nowhere near as imperialist as they are in FNV) as mostly a revenge/power ploy. They manipulate The Squat, a group of y'know squatters, that lived in the upper levels, promising and lying about repairing the vault and offering them ransacked caravan resources if they kept the NCR away. Being their only life line The Squat had no choice. Still the chosen one got rid of them and they left New California for the untapped Mojave.

The Great Khans, the most current iteration, continued in the path as the original Khans, regrouping and gaining information from the Followers who hoped they'd use their new medical knowledge to heal themselves. They gained more members and a substantial part of Vegas territory before they were run out by the three families. They were pushed to Bitter Springs where they first and foremost continued to pick off and attack NCR settlements, most of which consisted of caravans, towns, and camps as they saw them as easy like in their old days. It was the killing of four influential Republic members (non-military) that brought on Bitter Springs.

Bitter Springs was the result of years of hatred and animosity and likely the goal to send a final message to the Khans. It does not excuse the fact that innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered with few survivors. It does not excuse the fact that the NCR has yet to make amends for this and continues to try and persecute the Khans even in moments of surrender.

This post is not to defend what happened but to give a quick rundown of the Khan's history and their history with the NCR. It's to remind people that the NCR is not just their military power but an actual group/settlement of people that were also attacked indiscriminately by the Khans. It's to point out that the Khans were not a band of indigenous people (no matter the comparisons) driven from their homes but raiders who fed into the brutal cultures of the west coast wasteland and were in turn treated to the same things.

My frustration comes from the fact that FNV has so many comparisons to indigenous struggles but the groups it chooses are not comparable at all. Their oppression hinges on not being familiar with their past, which explains why they have the reputation they do in canon. The "tribes" are often not even groups of minorities or have goals/desires out of acquisitions of power and I feel like it is important to both acknowledge that this is bad indigenous rep because it is not supposed to be. It is supposed to be a comparison of the in-game groups and how they all do the same things and justify it in their own fucked up ways, some better at it than others.

FNV of all the Fallout games (in light of it being heavily Western based) distastefully uses indigenous imagery and theming for groups that are sad mimicries of American indigenous cultures at best and outright offensive at worst.

[redbean-nom]

Rebel Admirals Rex & Kalani from an au where the clone and droid rebellions were a bit more successful

Rex's fleet (rebel fleet Remembrance) - the whole 'ahsoka's not actually a jedi' thing worked and most of the 332nd got dechipped. (maul still escaped, but they managed to patch up the maul-damage before he got to the hyperdrive, so the Tribunal is mostly okay). the extra resources & manpower allowed the clone rebellion to operate on a much larger scale, and they eventually allied with pantora as a whole with the backing of senator chuchi. cody and later wolffe brought their imperial fleets to join the rebellion about a year later (after the chips started wearing off).

the fleet (one venator (the Tribunal), four star destroyers, associated clones, gunships, fighters, and tanks, plus a handful of stolen imperial walkers and shuttles) formally joined the rebel alliance around 10bby.

(rex got put in charge of the fleet because he's the least traumatized out of all the surviving officers. cody ran off to live with obi wan on tattooine.)

Kalani's fleet (rebel fleet Independence) - something happened and he and kraken managed to steal a chunk of dooku's ships (and later a good chunk of whatever was left of grievous' fleet on utapau) after his death. they essentially got lost in the chaos of o66, since the rest of the separatists thought they were deactivated after the shutdown order, and escaped with essentially a full separatist fleet. since they were active instead of stuck on agamar, kalani noticed that the leader of the empire happened to be the republic's supreme chancellor, and decided the empire was the new target of the CIS army. he later encountered the clone rebellion and decided that since the clones had effectively deserted the republic and were now fighting the empire, they were therefore allies.

the fleet (one dreadnought, three cruisers, one stolen imperial carrier, associated droids, fighters, transports, and tanks) formally allied with the rebel alliance around 10bby, with the backing of serenno and raxus secundus.

[peachyhoolagan]

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

Ezra never would have left her.

[itstimeforstarwars]

Loving everyone in the comments of the leverage fic giving their opinions on what species the gang should be it is very fun and it is giving me Ideas.

[phantom-of-the-memes]

Saying this as an Irish person since the new Hozier album just came out and there are lyrics in Irish; it’s Irish or Gaeilge (pronounced “gwhale-ga” or “gale-ga” depending on region), not Gaelic or Celtic or any other name people come up with.

It’s just a normal language that people speak in their everyday life. We learn it in school in the republic. People like myself are bilingual in Irish and English. It’s not a “fairy aesthetic cottage core leprechaun” language.

Please respect it. Our language is a touchy subject seen as how England tried to erase it by forcing English on us and severely punishing those who spoke Irish.

At the same time that does NOT mean it is a dead language. Our (in the republic) road and safety signs are in both Irish and English, same with legal documents. Our politicians speak it, and we are trying to preserve the language!

Anyways enjoy the album!

[threebea]

I have started to think of the Jedi being blamed for the Fall of the Republic like blaming firefighters for wildfires.

They have been fighting fires (corruption) for years, but the fire is getting bigger and hotter and spreading farther. They're doing their best but there aren't enough of them to go everywhere there are fires. The Senate points them to where really big fires are, but sometimes it turns out they just want their property saved and there weren't that many people in the building. The Jedi still save lives but they have to look at the bigger picture and hope volunteers will put out the little fires because they simply don't have the people for every little fire even though they wish they did. The Senate starts restricting their use of water. Then an arsonist, Palpatine, is made mayor and takes control of their budget.

Dooku and the CIS start lighting fires on purpose. Palpatine let's Dooku know where the most flammable places are.

And the firefighters (Jedi) keep fighting the fire. They can't not fight the fire. People will die if they don't fight the fire. Then the government is like: there are not enough firefighters to fight the fire, but here is a large population of people we will force to fight the fire with you. You shouldn't have qualms, apparently an individual that used to work for you is the one that paid for their training so really they're your responsibility. You'll be in charge of them on the field and get to watch them die, but we control their lives and have decided they're not people so we don't have to pay them. Good deal. We are good at fighting fires.

And the Jedi can't say no because they need to stop the fire and they can't do it alone at this point. Many of the Jedi are killed in their attempts to stop the gasoline fire Dooku lights and it shows how badly they need these new people.

Luckily, the people drafted to fight with them, the clones are also good at fighting fires! It's dangerous many clones will die, but despite having no choice they stand beside the Jedi bravely. The Jedi do everything in their power to protect them. They fight alongside them and try to minimize loss.

There are a few Jedi that get overwhelmed by anger or trauma. They become arsonists themselves, but the number of those that do can be counted on one hand compared to the thousands of Jedi that continue to fight fires.

Sadly, the clones have explosives inside them that Palpatine, the mayor, has the trigger for. Just when it feels like the fire is under control and the people lighting the fires have been stopped, Palpatine sets them off.

Most of the clones are never the same. They think the Jedi had to have set off the bombs inside them, even though they would have never thought them capable of it before. Most never learn the truth. They hate the Jedi for being traitors.

Most of the firefighters die. And their families too. Their children and uncles and aunts and grandparents, and cousins even if they weren't capable of fighting fires they all get burned to death.

The mayor declares it was the firefighters lighting fires and outlaws being a firefighter.

Some of the Jedi survive. Some of them can't bring themselves to fight fires anymore. Some of them keep doing it because it's what they were trained to do. A lot of them are novices who didn't know all the best techniques, but they find their own methods to put out fires and teach others how to do it as well.

And the rebellion begins because when you see fire the logical thing to do is put it out, but all the firefighters are dead or in hiding and being a firefighter is illegal. There's no one to call so the town's people start doing it themselves, inspired by the Jedi.

This becomes extremely important when the mayor makes a device that can light entire cities on fire at the push of a button.

Anyway that's my metaphor and maybe explains my point of view when it comes to the Jedi.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

hello and welcome to the uk is a fucking hell country, part 284829494

[alt text:]

Anti-monarchists receive ‘intimidatory’ Home Office letter on new protest laws

Home Office claims timing of new powers, taking effect days before king’s coronation, is coincidental

Ben Quinn, Rajeev Syal and Vikram Dodd

Official warning letters have been sent to anti-monarchists planning peaceful protests at King Charles III’s coronation saying that new criminal offences to prevent disruption have been rushed into law.

Using tactics described by lawyers as “intimidatory”, the Home Office’s Police Powers Unit wrote to the campaign group Republic saying new powers had been brought forward to prevent “disruption at major sporting and cultural events”.

The new law, given royal assent by Charles on Tuesday, means that from Wednesday:

Protesters who block roads, airports and railways could face 12 months behind bars.

Anyone locking on to others, objects or buildings could go to prison for six months and face an unlimited fine.

Police will be able to head off disruption by stopping and searching protesters if they suspect they are setting out to cause chaos.

Jun Pang, a policy and campaigns officer at Liberty, said: “Key measures in the bill will come into force just days before the coronation of King Charles – a significant event in our country’s history that is bound to inspire a wider national conversation and public protests. At the same time, the government are using a statutory instrument to bring draconian measures that the House of Lords threw out of the bill back from the dead, once again evading scrutiny and accountability.

“It’s worrying to see the police handed so many new powers to restrict protest, especially before a major national event. When the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act came into force, the police repeatedly misused them – in part because they simply did not understand them. Similarly, when Queen Elizabeth died, we saw police acting in inappropriate and heavy-handed ways towards protesters that violated their rights.”

Shami Chakrabarti, the former shadow attorney general, said: “During the passage of this illiberal and headline-grabbing legislation, ministers admitted that the new offence of ‘locking on’ is so broad as to catch peaceful protesters who link arms in public.

“Suspicionless stop and search is notorious for racial disparity and it is staggering that more of these provisions have brought into force so soon after Louise Casey’s devastating report [on the Met police]. The home secretary can blast ‘ecowarriors’ but this legislation may be used against anti-poverty and Ukraine solidarity protesters too.”

A statement from the home secretary, Suella Braverman, said: “This legislation is the latest step the government has taken against protesters who use highly disruptive tactics to deliberately delay members of the public, often preventing them from getting to work and hospital, as well as missing loved ones’ funerals.

“The range of new offences and penalties match the seriousness of the threat guerrilla tactics pose to our infrastructure, taxpayers’ money and police time.”

full article here

so just to sum this up, peaceful protesting can now land you in prison for a year and you might face an unlimited fine which i believe is up to £5000, and police can now stop and search you if they believe youre "setting out to cause chaos"

its specifically being put in place right before charles' coronation, but these are now considered criminal offenses so theyre not exclusive to it.

you know, a country where you can be put in prison for a year for peaceful protesting really doesnt sound like a fucking democracy to me.

[saphronethaleph]

Institutionalist

“Vader,” Palpatine said, his voice touched with silky menace. “What are you doing?”

“I am facilitating politics, my master,” Vader replied.

Palpatine looked at him, then up at the large poster Vader had just finished affixing to the wall of the Senate Chamber.

REMEMBER TO VOTE FOR THE NEXT EMPEROR, it said. REPORT ANY VOTER INTIMIDATION WHATSOEVER TO DARTH VADER, AND HE WILL KILL THE PERSON DOING IT.

“...you don’t think that’s a little paradoxical?” he asked.

“I am not telling people who to vote for,” Vader replied. “I am attempting to make sure the Senate vote is fair and free.”

“Vader…” Palpatine said, slowly. “I am the Emperor. The Senate is irrelevant.”

“You said the Jedi were a threat to the Republic,” Vader pointed out, in reply. “The Separatist Crisis is over. The Jedi are scattered and unable to intervene. It has been enough time that there should now be a new election. For Emperor.”

“That is not the law any more!” Palpatine retorted.

“Why not?” Vader asked. “Meaningful elections are important. Padme said so.”

Palpatine bit back his next reply, seething faintly.

Vader was usually easy to manipulate, but every so often one of those ideas about Padme got stuck in his head and he went from easy to utterly impossible. On that subject, he was immovable.

“Then… why the poster?” he asked.

“The vote should be fair and free,” Vader reiterated. “I will prevent voter intimidation.”

“...huh,” Bail said, a week later. “How did that happen?”

He was looking at the election results, which showed that seventy-four percent of the Senate had voted for him to be the next Emperor.

“I suspect Darth Vader was involved,” Mon replied. “His men ran an exhaustive investigation of the whole Senate over the last few weeks, then he killed everyone who’d taken their post through bribery or through falsified results.”

Bail clicked through to the details of the report, and winced.

The number of people who’d voted for him was about what he’d expected, the Senators who he could count on. The number of people who’d voted against him was… drastically smaller.

Then the door opened with a crash.

“Emperor,” Vader said. “It is time for you to take your position. The previous incumbent of your position was unwilling to vacate his post when the election results came in, but he has been dealt with.”

Bail blinked.

“...you killed Palpatine?” he asked.

“That is a good question,” Vader replied, somewhat quizzically. “I don’t know if it was my lightsaber or something else, but he has exploded and so he is certainly dead whether or not I was the one to kill him. I do not believe it is tradition, though.”

The Alderaanian senator swallowed, trying to hide his nerves.

“Are you going to kill everyone who looks at me funny?” he asked.

“No,” Vader replied. “Though I will kill anyone who tries to assassinate you. That is tradition.”

Mon and Bail exchanged glances.

“...would you actually have a problem if I tried to make things better for the galaxy?” Bail asked.

“You won the election,” Vader said, firmly, and apparently that was all that mattered.

[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[sailforvalinor]

Both within the Rebellion and the New Republic, Hera Syndulla is all about protocol, about order and regulations, because she knows that while it might feel slow and painstaking, that’s how things get done. Remember how she told off Kanan for just being a little bit snarky in one such meeting? She is one brilliant pilot, but she’s no loose canon, she respects the system—which is why her losing her cool with the council for implying Ezra might be dead speaks VOLUMES. That’s her son. That’s her son just as much as Jacen is. And she may not have the Force, but she’d know if he were dead.

[major-comet]

i think that tucker should have been allowed to be upset more. about a lot of things.

like i’ve talked at length before about how i think he should have been allowed to be upset about alpha dying and being replaced by epsilon, and how i feel like he wasn’t really allowed to be upset about carolina and epsilon leaving - everyone kind of expected him to just Get Over it as soon as they were back.

but also; he should have been allowed to be more upset about epsilon dying, and honestly? he should have been allowed to be upset about donut “dying” after wash shot him. he sent donut to go get help, and next he hears about him he’s dead. “killed” by wash, and only in that position to be hurt because tucker sent him for help.

like, do you think that that had an impact on his whole arc about how to be a good leader on chorus? after all his squad (minus palomo) died in the field under his leadership, do you think he thought about donut?

donut, who’s stuck with the feds, stuck with wash-and tucker Knows that wash regrets shooting him and probably feels guilty about it, and he Knows that wash has no reason to do something like that again, and he Knows that wash cares about them all - he really does. in that same way he knows they all care about eachother, even if they’d all rather die than actually admit to it. but sometimes when he’s lying awake at night in his new republic bunk, there’s this part of him that still worries about it, about the what if-

idk, let the man have worries and be upset for a bit for gods sake

[redbean-nom]

arise, daughters of dathomir

Other versions:

Without the magic (probably my 2nd favorite version)

With all the magic

Simple/unshaded version

[gffa]

I think one of the biggest problems with Star Wars right now is that not much feels like it's making Star Wars bigger, but instead everything feels just a little bit smaller, a little bit more crowded in with every project. The sequels almost made a new world to play in, but with the shitshow of not planning their trilogy out ahead of time and the mish-mash of writing/directing styles, it's not what it could have been, the sequels are not in the position the prequels were after the same amount of time had passed. The Mandalorian almost felt like it could expand the world, but then the cameos (as excellent as they were and as many of them made sense) and the lack of allowing those characters to be in books or anything, as well as the sequels basically saying, "Hey, don't bother getting invested in the New Republic, it's going to be dead in a few years anyway." and not being talented enough writers to overcome that obstacle. Andor was an incredible series, but there are only so many ways to make an Empire-based story feel fresh again. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan Kenobi were both fun to watch and deserve their place, but they don't feel like they gave us a new world to play with. I love the High Republic, but I don't think it's a strong enough new thing to really inspire people, hence why I can barely find any fandom for it, despite that books often get fandoms for them. Many of these projects are really, really good and exciting, but I wouldn't say any of them have made Star Wars feel bigger to me, it just feels like more stuff added into the already existing framework instead of expanding the framework to make room for more stories.

[belqva]

₊˚⊹౨ DAYLIGHT (O.W.K.) ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: angst. angst. and even more angst because i’m just morbid like that? it takes place post rots / mentions of order 66 if you consider that a warning lol

summary: Two Jedi survivors confront their shared guilt, grief, and unspoken love, finding solace and redemption in each other after ten years of loss and isolation.

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x reader

word count: 3.0k (ooops…)

a/n: first off all I had to get this off my chest even if it flops idc because I literally cannot stop thinking about it and I just need to put it out into the world, so please enjoy as much as I did creating it 🫶🏻 — p.s. there is so much anakin content on here (not that i’m complaining) so some much needed obi-wan appreciation is finally here <333

It had been exactly ten years since that fateful night on Mustafar—the night that shattered the galaxy and left you standing amidst the wreckage of everything you had ever known. The weight of loss had followed you like a shadow ever since, but even now, after a decade, the grief felt as fresh as the day it had all come crashing down.

The Republic had fallen. The Jedi had fallen. You had fallen.

As a Jedi Knight, you had once fought beside Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, brothers-in-arms during the Clone Wars. But more than that, you had known them as friends, as family. You had shared countless missions, stood side by side in battle, trusted each other with your lives. There was always a bond between you and Obi-Wan, something deeper than the friendship you both acknowledged—a connection that remained unspoken, held back by the Jedi Code. You had fought beside him for years, and through it all, you had felt something more than just camaraderie.

But when the war ended in tragedy, that unspoken connection had been buried beneath the ashes of the galaxy. Padmé Amidala was dead, Anakin had become Darth Vader, and Obi-Wan had disappeared. The Jedi were hunted, executed, and scattered to the far corners of the galaxy.

You were lucky. When Order 66 was given, you were on a neutral planet far in the Outer Rim, away from the battlefield. There were no clone troopers, no soldiers to execute the terrible command. But as the news of the Jedi massacre spread, you ran. You shut yourself off from the Force, hiding it deep within you, trying to suppress the very thing that had been your life.

And for what? The galaxy had become a graveyard for those who believed in hope.

You had fled to Alderaan, the only place you could think of, seeking refuge with Bail Organa, a man you had trusted throughout the war. He had welcomed you without question, and when you learned the full truth—of Anakin’s fall, of Padmé’s death, of the birth of the twins—it had shattered what remained of your spirit. You saw Leia for the first time then, a tiny baby, unaware of the weight her existence carried. The sight of her had brought you to tears, her innocence a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounded her birth.

And it was there that you learned the impossible. Obi-Wan was alive. But he had gone into hiding, retreating to a desolate world, unreachable, untouchable. Bail wouldn’t tell you where. He couldn’t. Perhaps Obi-Wan believed you were dead, like the others.

That thought weighed heavily on your mind for years. Every night, it haunted you—what had become of him? Was he truly gone, lost to the same despair that had consumed so many others?

For a decade, you stayed on Alderaan, trying to build a life in the ruins of your past. But the Force, which had once been a comfort, now felt like a burden you couldn’t bear. You severed yourself from it, and in doing so, lost a part of who you were. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and soon ten years had passed. Watching Leia grow, watching the galaxy continue without you, made you feel like a relic from another time. Everyone else had moved on, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t let go.

And so, you made a decision. You couldn’t continue like this. The weight of the past was suffocating, and there was only one person in the galaxy who could understand—only one person who might still carry the same scars you did.

You didn’t tell Bail when you left. You couldn’t. You just packed what little you needed, including your lightsaber—though it felt strange to carry it after so many years—and set off for Tatooine. It was the only place that made sense. The place where it had all begun. The place where you might find the one person who still gave you hope.

When you arrived on the barren, desert planet, the twin suns beating down mercilessly, you felt the desolation sink into your bones. Tatooine was a world of sand and silence, and it reflected the emptiness you had felt for years. You asked around discreetly, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. The locals were suspicious of outsiders, and the planet was far from safe. But after days of searching, you heard rumors of a strange man who lived far from the towns, a man who kept to himself and only came into town for work.

It had to be him.

With nothing but a tattered cloak and your old, worn-out boots, you set off on foot into the desert. The journey was grueling, the heat unbearable, but you pressed on, driven by something deeper than determination. It took two days of walking, resting only when you could no longer move, but finally, you reached the place the locals had spoken of—a small, stone cave nestled into the cliffs, almost invisible in the harsh light of the suns.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached. The cave looked abandoned, but something inside you—some instinct or long-buried connection—told you otherwise. You felt it, deep down. You didn’t need the Force to know. He was there.

As you drew closer, a voice called out, sharp and commanding. “Visitors are not welcome here! Go away!”

That voice. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was older, wearier, but it was unmistakably him. After so many years of silence, hearing his voice was like a punch to the gut. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you almost collapsed from the sheer emotion of it.

“Is this how you welcome an old friend?” you called back, your voice trembling with emotion. A broken laugh escaped you as tears streamed down your cheeks.

There was a long pause. Then, from the shadows of the cave, a figure emerged. Slowly, he stepped into the light, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

Obi-Wan.

But this was not the man you had once known. The years had aged him in ways you couldn’t have imagined. His face was lined with deep creases of sorrow and exhaustion, his once-vibrant hair now streaked with gray. His clothes were rough, worn, nothing like the robes of the Jedi you remembered. He looked like a man who had lived ten lifetimes in the span of a decade.

But it was his eyes that caught you. They were filled with shock, with disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there before him.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, his voice raw, the words barely more than a breath.

You nearly broke at the sound of those words. You had imagined so many scenarios, but hearing the pain in his voice was unbearable. “No, Obi-Wan,” you said, stepping closer, your voice trembling. “I’m alive. I made it. We both made it.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to convince himself that you were real. And then, without warning, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he might never let go. The force of it knocked the breath from your lungs, but you didn’t care. You buried your face in his shoulder, clutching at him as if he were the only thing keeping you anchored to the galaxy.

For the first time in ten years, you felt whole.

His grip on you tightened, and you felt his fingers thread through your hair, as if he were afraid you might vanish. You held on just as fiercely, your fingers clutching the fabric of his worn cloak, afraid that if you let go, this moment would slip away like a dream.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still gripping his arms. “Obi-Wan, it’s not your fault. None of it.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I failed. We both did.”

“No,” you said firmly. “We survived. And that’s enough.”

The weight of his words hung between you like a heavy cloud, but you refused to let them pull you down. You had both been living with this burden for so long, but now—standing here, in each other’s presence—it was different. There was a sense of shared pain, shared guilt, but also the faintest glimmer of something else. Hope.

Obi-Wan finally released you, stepping back just slightly, though his hand lingered on your arm as if he was still afraid you might disappear.

“You… You shouldn’t have come,” he murmured, his voice shaky. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “I couldn’t stay on Alderaan. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “But you were safe there. Away from all of this.”

“Safe?” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I haven’t felt safe in ten years, Obi-Wan. Not since… not since that day.”

At that, he flinched, his eyes closing for a brief moment, as though the memory of Mustafar, of Anakin’s fall, was still as fresh for him as it was for you.

“We’ve both lost everything,” you continued, your voice cracking. “Everything we believed in. Everyone we cared about. But we’re still here, Obi-Wan. Somehow, we’re still here.

He opened his eyes again, looking at you with a mixture of sadness and something deeper—something that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

“And what good has it done?” he asked quietly. “We’ve survived, yes, but at what cost? The galaxy has fallen into darkness. The Jedi are gone. Anakin…” His voice broke at the mention of his former apprentice, and he turned away, his shoulders tense with the weight of it all.

You stepped closer, placing a hand gently on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault,” you whispered, knowing full well how hollow those words sounded, knowing that he had probably told himself the same thing countless times and failed to believe it. “You did everything you could.”

He didn’t respond at first. He just stood there, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the desert, lost in memories you couldn’t touch. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice barely audible.

“I trained him,” he said, his words laced with bitterness and regret. “I watched him grow. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him before…”

“You couldn’t have known,” you said firmly. “None of us could have.”

But he shook his head, his expression tortured. “I should have. I should have been better.”

You wanted to argue with him, to tell him that he was wrong, that he had been the best mentor, the best Jedi anyone could ask for. But you knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Obi-Wan had always carried the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, even when it wasn’t his to bear. It was part of who he was.

Instead, you reached out and gently took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. He looked down at the gesture, his brow furrowing slightly, as though the simple act of human connection was something foreign to him now.

“We can’t change the past,” you said softly. “But we’re not alone. Not anymore.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. But then, slowly, almost reluctantly, he squeezed your hand in return. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make your heart ache.

After a few moments of silence, you both sat down on the rocky ground outside the cave, the twin suns dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the desert. The air was cooling now, and the stars were beginning to emerge, scattered like pinpricks of light across the darkening sky.

You sat close to each other, your shoulders almost touching, the quiet between you filled with unspoken words. For a while, neither of you said anything. It was enough just to be here, together, after so many years of isolation and pain.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I spent so long wondering.. just thinking about you. If you were suffering just like me.”

“I thought about you too,” Obi-Wan admitted, his voice soft. “Every day.”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the raw honesty in his words. He met your gaze, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in years—a flicker of vulnerability, of the man he used to be before the weight of the galaxy crushed him.

“I thought you were dead,” he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. “After the Purge, I thought… I thought I’d lost you, too. Like everyone else.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. You had imagined so many scenarios over the years, but hearing the pain in his voice, knowing that he had thought you were gone, was almost too much to bear.

“I’m here,” you said softly, reaching out to gently touch his cheek. “I’m here, Obi-Wan.”

For a moment, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he were savoring the simple warmth of human contact. But then, just as quickly, he pulled away, the walls he had built around himself slamming back into place.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said again, his voice harsher this time, though you could hear the conflict in his tone. “It’s not safe. For either of us.”

“I don’t care about safety,” you replied, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill over. “I care about you.”

He shook his head, standing up abruptly and walking a few paces away, his back to you. “This isn’t your fight anymore, Y/N. You don’t owe me anything.”

You stood up as well, anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through, how can you stand there and tell me that I don’t owe you anything?”

He didn’t turn around, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Because I don’t deserve it,” he said, his voice low, almost broken. “I don’t deserve your loyalty, or your friendship, or��� or anything.”

You took a step toward him, your heart aching at the pain in his words. “Obi-Wan,” you said softly, “you’ve always been too hard on yourself. You’ve always carried the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, and it’s killing you.”

He turned around then, his blue eyes filled with a storm of emotions—pain, guilt, fear, and something else, something that had always been there between you but had never been spoken aloud.

“I don’t know how to carry it anymore,” he whispered, his voice raw and vulnerable. “I don’t know how to keep going.”

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently cup his face in your hands. “Then let me carry it with you,” you whispered. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching your face as if he were trying to find something—an answer, a reason, a way forward. And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours.

“You were always stronger than me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled through your tears, your heart breaking and mending all at once. “We were always stronger together,” you said softly.

And then, finally, the walls came down.

“I will love in every galaxy,” you began, your voice trembling but sure. "In every universe that ever was or will be. In every lifetime we are destined to live. Even when the stars lose their way and disappear from the sky, when the oceans turn to dust, and the mountains bow to time— still, I will choose you. Even if you are but a hollow echo of the person you once were, a shadow of all that you used to be, I will see you, the heart of you, the soul of you, and love you with all that I am, with all that I will ever be. I will love you with a fire that burns through eternity. Until my last breath, and beyond that, when I become one with the stars, the winds, the very Force— evn then, my spirit will find yours, and I will love you in silence, in whispers carried on the edge of the cosmos. My existence is bound to yours, an eternal thread that stretches across time and space, every part of me yearns for you, craves to hold you close, and I won't let you slip away— not this time, not again. For no distance, no universe, no lifetime could keep me from you. I will love you, even when you don't believe in love, even when you forget how to love yourself. My heart is yours, wholly, eternally, unshakably.”

As the words poured from your heart, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, his hands trembling as they gripped your waist. You felt the years of pain, of loneliness, of guilt melt away between you. You could feel the force of his emotions, raw and unfiltered, as if he had been holding them back for so long that now, in your presence, they couldn’t be contained anymore.

And when you finished, when the last of your confession hung in the air like a promise carved into the stars, he finally broke. He kissed you with a desperation that spoke of years of longing, of words left unspoken, of feelings buried too deep for too long.

In that moment, under the vast, starlit sky, there were no Jedi, no Sith, no war, no galaxy. There was just you and him—two souls who had found each other again after being lost for so long.

And in that moment, that was enough.

© COPYRIGHT BELQVA 2024

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF STAR WARS OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, EXCEPT FOR THE ONES CREATED BY ME, DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

tags:

[mock-arts]

Happy approaching new year all! I just wanted to look at all the covers I’d made for Star Wars fics in 2022 all at once lol

links to each beneath the cut!

Crashing Down by @oakwyrm (art)

Marshal Commander Cody of the 7th Sky Corps is, despite his reputation, mortal. When a severe injury threatens his life and his continued ability to function should he recover, protocol states he should be sent back to Kamino. It does not explicitly state that he would likely be decommissioned, but his vode all know how to read between the lines.

General Kenobi’s response is equally predictable.

Careful What You Wish For by @shadowlight17 (art)

Cody was head over heels for his Jedi General, so when Order 66 was executed, he was in emotional turmoil. And then he died. Or so he thought. He said he would give anything to fix this...would it be worth it if fixing it meant leaving everything he knew behind? Thrown into the past, Cody is given that chance. To make things right.

Cody was head over heels for his Jedi General, so when Order 66 was executed, he was in emotional turmoil. And then he died. Or so he thought. He said he would give anything to fix this...would it be worth it if fixing it meant leaving everything he knew behind? Thrown into the past, Cody is given that chance. To make things right.

Cody was head over heels for his Jedi General, so when Order 66 was executed, he was in emotional turmoil. And then he died. Or so he thought. He said he would give anything to fix this...would it be worth it if fixing it meant leaving everything he knew behind? Thrown into the past, Cody is given that chance. To make things right.

Cody was head over heels for his Jedi General, so when Order 66 was executed, he was in emotional turmoil. And then he died. Or so he thought. He said he would give anything to fix this...would it be worth it if fixing it meant leaving everything he knew behind? Thrown into the past, Cody is given that chance. To make things right.

In This Our Liberty — currently unposted, series here.

from ancient grudge (to soap opera television) by @eclipsemidnight (art)

The Jedi and the Sith, in fair Coruscant where we lay our scene...ancestral enemies, whose battles these days are more likely to be to first spend rather than to first blood. This does not amuse the clone security forces who have to break them up, or Chancellor Windu who has to deal with them afterwards.

Meanwhile, Maul and Ventress's marriage is arranged by Sidious and Dooku. Obi-Wan and his friends Ahsoka and Quinlan crash their engagement party. We all know how this is going to end--a wedding, of course! It just takes a few hands, the threat of the Coruscant Guard, and a porg-print towel to get there!

This I Vow by @wanderingjedihistorian (art)

To secure a planet's help for the Republic, Obi-Wan and Cody must get married. Having been quietly together for some time, it is an easy decision for the pair to make. They didn't expect what followed. Nor did anyone else.

Once Upon a Dream by @glimmerglanger (art)

The man was still warm; not warm enough but he obviously hadn’t been dead long. Cody thinned his mouth, looking at the man. He had a fall of copper hair and a beard, scars here and there on his body. He looked like he’d been a fighter, all muscle, trim and--

“Sith’s spit,” he added, cutting over the chatter in his bucket, as his assessment reached the man’s hand, curled, even in death, around a familiar metallic cylinder. “General Tachi, I think he was a Jedi.”

OR, the one where Marshal Commander Cody finds a mystery figure three years into the Clone Wars, and it changes the course of history.

Or Why Comes Thou to Caterhaugh? by Afiregender (art)

In the midst of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan very abruptly goes on leave to attend a "personal matter" on his homeworld Stewjon. Both Cody and the Jedi find this somewhat odd, and Cody goes on leave himself to investigate. He finds his General at a banquet meant to celebrate the new Fae King... which turns out to be Obi-Wan himself. Or: Tam Lin but Codywan.

Descent by @kutaisi (art) (we’re just getting started on this one!)

As they're fighting in the rain on Kamino, Jango Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi are thrown forward in time to a version of the galaxy that neither of them could have imagined.

Finding themselves fifteen years in the future, their struggle to get back to their own time is complicated by devasting discoveries and a nightmare of a reality that they have no idea how to navigate through.

...and also by each other.

I also illustrated a bunch of other fic this year, that didn’t necessarily get covers.

Soul Found by @darthtarvera (art)

It had been five years since he’d dreamed of his soulmate. 

Five years since the council broke the bond between them. 

Now, a last test as the council sends Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to Mandalore to protect the Duke of Mandalore and his two daughters. Obi-Wan is determined to prove once and for all he has what it takes to be a good jedi. 

But can even the jedi truly break a bond between a jedi and their soulmate? As Obi-Wan discovers more of the culture and people his mark ties him to he realizes that maybe his path isn't so rigid as he thought.

i don’t wanna feel stuck by @ghostlandtoo (art)

Three years after the war, Obi-Wan has stuck to diplomatic missions from the Order, tired of fighting. When he's burned by the Republic on the tail-end of one such mission, Obi-Wan finds himself stuck on Myam-1, a beach planet in the Outer Rim. Work doesn't stop, even on a vacation planet. Reunited with an old flame and a few old friends, Obi-Wan can't help but help the several people on Myam-1 in need of help, even if he lost his lightsaber a few planets back.

This, too, was a gift by @lttrsfrmlnrrgby (art)

The Rako Hardeen mission was a success, but it left Obi-Wan Kenobi sick at heart after the empathic stresses of the mission, and questioning whether the mission was worth it. The troopers of the 212th welcome him back, wanting nothing more than to assure him he did the right thing, and Obi-Wan works to make their trust in him worth it.

The Force, however, shows Obi-Wan a detailed vision of the future to come. He eliminates the threats posed by the Sith, but feels he cannot return to the Order or to his men, and sets out alone, letting the Force direct him to the grimmest parts of the galaxy and the people who were always overlooked and underserved. 

Marshal Commander Cody takes his general's warning and evacuates Kamino and all of the clones from Republic space. As the Jedi work to recover from the Sith plot and the Republic stalls out on how to move on, the clones settle a new world, try to heal, and look for their missing general. Along the way, apart and together, Cody and Obi-Wan make discoveries that will change their and the galaxy’s future, and learn how to move forward even when things are broken and like nothing they'd planned.

I think that’s it as far as Star Wars fic I’ve illustrated/made covers for goes? (There’s a little bit of punisher/daredevil fic I’ve still been working on illustrating this year but that would be off theme lol)

if you’re a Star Wars fic author I’ve worked with this year and I’ve somehow missed you, let me know and I’ll add a link in! I’ve had an absolute blast collaborating with everyone this year, and I’m looking forward to digging in next year too! ❤️

[justdiptych]

The original Fallout had one group of raiders. That was the name the game map gave to them - 'Raiders' - but they were in fact known as the Khans. They were a relatively minor faction, being tied to quests in the first town the player is likely to visit, but we learn a lot about them in their brief appearance.

Many of the Khans are given names and dialogue, and will tell the player about their history - including how they came from the same place as the people of Shady Sands, Vault 15, and feel entitled to share in the town's wealth. Some see their raiding life as a way to claim control of the post-war world - ruling through strength and fear, believing that old ideas of morality died with the rest of the world. Others treat it as just another job - they support their group by trading, maintaining equipment, preparing food, and other everyday tasks.

In short, the Khans are a fully-realised community, as much a part of the story as any other. We learn that their brutal leader, Garl Death-Hand, took command after killing his abusive father. The player can kill him, or negotiate with him, or impress him with acts of cruelty, or even challenge his nihilistic views by convincing him that they're his father, back from the dead. Killing Garl and destroying his compound is treated as the best choice for the region as a whole, and is confirmed to have happened in the next game in the series, but it's certainly not the only option.

Fallout 2 has two groups of raiders. One - again marked 'Raiders' on the map - turn out not to be raiders at all, in that they're not attacking towns to steal their wealth. Instead, they're a mercenary company, hired by a disreputable businessman from one town (New Reno) on behalf of another town (Shady Sands again, now the capital of the New California Republic) to harass a third town (Vault City) to convince them that they need outside help in maintaining their defences. It's part of the game's major subplot about the three societies competing for control of northern California and western Nevada.

The other group are the New Khans, founded by Garl's son Darion after the original Khans' defeat. These Khans aren't nearly so fearsome as their predecessors - they mostly operate in secret, hiding behind a group of squatters who have moved into the ruins of Vault 15 and pretending to help them restore it for use. Darion is wracked with resentment over what happened to his father's crew and guilt for having survived, and his gang ultimately present little real threat to the outside world.

What I'm getting at here is that, in the world of Fallout as it existed in those early games, 'raiders' were not a major factor. There was one group who conducted raids as part of their regular economic activity, but only against particular communities - Shady Sands saw them as raiders, but to the Hub, they were just traders. Raiders only existed in a particular context - they had particular interests, beliefs and opportunities that would not always be possible or applicable.

Most of the games' conflict came not from the existence of raiders but from bilateral political and economic competition between groups with overlapping but not identical interests, which was reflected in their respective ideologies. We see this in Killian and Gizmo fighting to control the future of Junktown, and in the Master's attempt to reshape the world with the Unity while the different groups of New California try to retain their independence.

We particularly see it in Fallout 2, with its three-way battle for economic domination between the constitutional democracy of the New California Republic, the mafia-ruled narco-state of New Reno, and the elitist technocratic slave state of Vault City. Which of these groups continue to rule and expand, and which crumble, is what ultimately shapes the region's future - with control of Redding and its gold supply as the linchpin.

While the Enclave are the story's primary antagonists, they're chiefly characterised by their refusal to engage with this new socio-economic order - they believe that all outside authorities are illegitimate, and all outsiders non-human, and their only plan is to release a bioweapon into the atmosphere and kill literally everyone on Earth but themselves. The Enclave's defeat is necessary for New California's survival, but, otherwise, they change very little about how people live their lives. They're like Darion's New Khans on a larger scale - relics of a fallen order, robbed of their purpose, hiding in an old bunker and driven by nothing but resentment of having been left behind.

I might, in future, talk about the contrasting depiction of raiders in Fallouts 3, 4 and 76, and about New Vegas's use of raider and bandit groups like the Khans, the Legion, the Fiends and the White Legs. For now, I think I've made my point - that raiders are not a fact of life but a product of a particular place and time, and much less relevant to the universe of Fallout than other forms of competition and violence.