#kotor fanfiction

[cinderedrose]

The woman only spat insults as Renier went outside onto the balcony to light a cig.

The lights of the towering buildings slowly flickered off one by one and took place of the stars in the Taris night sky. Renier never really liked city worlds either, but their scenery is still better than parties with angry drunks.

“Pass me one,” a boy half shrouded by the darkness ordered.

He's not even buzzed.

Renier jumped then tentatively handed him a cigarette. They recognized him from earlier. That drive to protect this young man caught them off guard. Stars-! Did they have some child before they enlisted in the Republic? They're old enough to…

He took it, lighting it. Renier noticed he didn't have a lighter… but it was dark. They excused the abnormality.

“Thanks.”

Renier nods.

“You're not drunk, kid.” They observe. “Below drinking age or something?”

The boy tensed, then shook his head. “No, I just don't drink much… My boyfriend is blackout drunk in the room we fucked in an hour ago and someone's gotta haul him back,” he said. Then he frowned, looking down at Renier. “I'm bored. I don't know anyone here that well.”

“Neither do I.”

The boy opens his mouth to say something, but he opts to stay quiet. A shiver ran down their spine. Getting recognized would be the end of everything… Renier has not heard good things about sith interrogation tactics.

“The night is nice… but I miss the stars back home.” he finally said, sighing. “I'm glad I can at least see the sky now… I'm being sent to the undercity in two days for a search. Count my blessings…” He let out a dry laugh.

“Where are you from?” They ask, stepping closer.

He exhaled a ring of smoke before he spoke. “Believe it or not, Dantooine. Beautiful planet.”

A faint memory tries to surface, then it quickly fades. A common occurrence, though not to this strength. “Damn. Bet you don't miss the jedi.”

He stared at them for a second, scowling. Then his expression eased.

“I don't.” He chuckled. “Delusioned idiots.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the railing. The only lights being the remnants of the bustling party, dying city, and the faint orange glow from the cigarettes. Renier can't make out his features well, but his build is thin. Thinner than it should.

Renier is sure they had a child before their hit to the head, but the boy doesn't recognize them.

“You never told me your name,” Renier stated, almost in a condescending militaristic order, dropping the butt of their cigarette into the abyss of the false coruscant.

“Cyrus Sero. You?”

“Renier Skataski.”

Cyrus frowned, grabbing a set of the dog tags hanging off his waist.

Their heart stopped. Fuck.

“These are yours.” He unclipped the tags and handed them to Renier. They were in fact theirs. Then he puffed on the cig and ignored the subject entirely.

They blinked a few times trying to calm from the panic bubbling up. Their strategy slowly crumbled to dust. Idiot—

“You're okay, Renier. I won't say shit.”

“...”

“I can't wait to quit this job.” Cyrus said, breaking the silence as if small talk would fix the tension.

“... Seems unrewarding.”

He nodded, discarding his own cigarette. “Pay sucks, my armor doesn't even fit right…”

Armor. Right. Cyrus wasn't even drunk. It would only be a few hours before everyone else was blacked out, but he wasn't even buzzed. Renier fell back into their thoughts, trying to reshape their strategy. Oh how embarrassing it would be being outsmarted by a junior officer of the enemy.

Cyrus looked at them again. “There's a bag marked with the name Chaeni by the door. Grab it on your way out. It should fit you,” he added. Renier gasps. He's reading my fucking mind. At least they think so. They anxiously tapped their fingers on the railing, saying nothing.

Cyrus is far from boring.

“Um…” Renier tries to make conversation in efforts to regain at least some control over this interaction. Cyrus’ loyalties were hard to tell, and it was a risk speaking to him in general… but they had no desire to stop.

“You're not from here,” he stated before a sentence even met their mouth, “do you remember your planet of origin? You seem like the type that flitted about the galaxy most your life.”

His outer rim accent is becoming increasingly more apparent the more he speaks. He stared at the towering spires, shifting his weight back and forth.

“I don't remember,” they admitted. “But you aren't wrong. I'm a bounty hunter. I have been for a while.”

At least they think so… they try to remember, they really do, but dread drowns them. It's wrong trying to traverse what has been lost.

“Fun… I don't think I could withstand that job,” he said, looking back at Renier.

“Aw, but it's so fun.” They nudged Cyrus’ arm, a small static shock greeting the two before the touch. It felt natural, the friendly touch that is… though Cyrus recoiled and shot a dirty look. Renier frowned, pulling their hand back, betrayal bubbling through their features. They're unsure what caused them to be so upset, though it probably played into the lost child theory.

He eased his expression, still examining Renier. They had that sliver of hope he'd recognize them as a parent, despite them having no memory of raising him.

A small mandalorian girl flashed within their skull and behind their eyes, then she was gone just as fast as she came, feeling like nothing more than a distant echo.

“Seems so chaotic.”

“Well, I like it.”

Cyrus let out a huff. “Figured.” He looked at the quiet city again, just listening. Renier couldn't tell what he was listening to, for the city really was near silent, and the music in the party was dying down.

Renier scowled. “Figured?”

Cyrus shrugged. “Nice night.”

“it's a shit night.”

“this is the best you're going to get on Taris. Better learn to love it because the quarantine is not going to break until Bastila is found.”

Renier sighed. He was right. Just like him, they won't even see the sky after a while. Might as well enjoy the polluted sheen now. Like he is.

Then those thoughts faded, and they examined Cyrus again, counting the number of tags he hung off his belt. There were four now that theirs were returned. Three sith, one republic issued. Were they trophies?

“The sunsets are okay at least,” he continued, “not as good as they were back home though.”

Renier nodded, like they knew by heart but in all honesty they probably didn't. Why would they ever visit dantooine? They scoured their memory again, but it was wrong… wrong. They quickly receded despite the deja vu.

“You're not saying much,” he said, his tone was harsher now, more negative. Renier’s heart quickened. “Am I unsettling you?” And there it was, that poorly masked insecurity and uncertainty. Poor thing for them to be relieved over, really.

“You're okay, I'm just tired,” they lied.

Cyrus nodded. Then he sighed. “Me too.”

He didn't say anything after that, resorting to sliding his fingers across the railing, then tapping in a rhythmic quadratic motion with his nails. Renier watched. Renier listened. Cyrus was a Sith, but he was a boy. a passing ship illuminated the features on his face. Soft, weary, freckled, youthful. This was the monster Carth hissed about. A teenage boy drumming his nails on a metal rail.

Renier shifted their weight back, eyeing the tranquil city again. It seemed like a utopia on the upper levels.

Cyrus looked at them, stilling his anxious hand, then he slowly turned and limped toward the reeking sour apartment, his previously tapping hand trailing last.

[torilaa]

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕❤️ Here is an excerpt of Bastila’s POV after her first kiss with Wes. I wish I wrote something a bit more fluffy for the day but…well their relationship is complicated, screw happiness :p!

0o0

It was a mistake.

The events of the last five minutes replayed in my mind over and over. His hands around my waist, his warm body close to mine, gentle, the dancing of his lips, the desire for more. Oh, I wanted more—Jedi Code be damned. Yet before I could ask for more, the mask of Revan appeared, replacing the warm face of Wes.

This is wrong.

And now? I ran away like the coward I was. Why did I visit him? Oh, of course, because of that dream. Not a vision or horrific memory of a war long passed, but a dream where we were together, at peace in Dantooine’s countryside.

It could never be.

And so, after I awoke, I made a decision. I needed to make the boundaries clear. A Jedi could never get close to another like…that, and it was a risk especially for him. The Council expected him to fall again, and I had as well, yet I didn’t want him to anymore. The light in his eyes, the smile on his face, the kind sarcastic words, it would all go away if he fell. After Kashyyyk, I’d promised myself that I would protect him.

But you’re not worried about him, are you? You’re worried about yourself.

I stopped in the hallway before the door to my room. Could I be at risk myself? No…no, I’d managed to remain strong for months. If I was going to fall, it would’ve been when I was first connected to Revan over this bond. Yet maybe Darth Revan remained, still, in the corners of our minds. Over time…maybe he’d grown stronger.

No, Darth Revan is dead.

I opened the door to my room and didn’t even bother turning on the lights. I collapsed on the bed with a sigh.

It was strange. By all accounts, I shouldn’t even be entertaining the notion. Before he’d been an enigma, a faceless evil that many Padawans shivered in fear of or told tall tales about. The mask of Revan had been a reminder of that fact and a return to my sanity. He used to be a monster. I should hate him.

Yet, did I hate him? Truly?

I closed my eyes. Tried to sleep. Yet the memory of what we did—

At first, his lips were as clumsy as mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to make us steady, and—

No!

I turn on the bed, grabbing my lips.

I never expected to like him, yet it made sense. His charisma…the Jedi council had warned me about it—to not be tempted by it like so many other Jedi when they fell. Yet he didn’t seem false or manipulative. What motivation would Wes have to get me to like him like this? Force, he didn’t even try to get me to like him in the first place!

Breathless. He pushed me against the wall and I closed my eyes—feeling static on our lips. Our kiss became deep—deeper—good—

Stop!

I pulled my hair and turned again.

I never expected to relate to him, yet it also made sense. Revan hated war. He hated the burden, he wanted to leave his responsibilities in the dust, to rebel, but he chose to face it anyway. How many choices? How many lives did he have to sacrifice before it wore him away into that simulacrum? In the face of those burdens, what had I done? Complain.

“I have to be strong for both of us.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No. I have to.”

“You’re not weak for loving me, Bastila.” He brushed away the hair from my eyes. “Because I love you.”

I never expected to sympathize with him. What he lost. Darth Revan had been a Jedi before after all. Through the bond I could tell what was real and what was false. The pain he felt during the Mandalorian Wars was real, the trauma that he experienced was real, the comradery with his soldiers…his heroism…that was real. It was all wiped away under a brush of white paint. The death of his parents? False. His destroyed world? False. The tales of his smuggling days? His drunken escapades? False. All of it.

Isn’t that a good thing? Wes the smuggler is a better person even though his memories aren’t real. Better than Darth Revan.

Yet the painting that was Revan was still there, wasn’t it? He had to be there still in order for the visions to show us the Star Maps. The white paint would chip off. As Jolee told me, he would find out the truth someday. We couldn’t be together because we were Jedi, yes, but it didn’t matter. We couldn’t be together either way for one reason alone.

I lied to him.

I was hurting him.

And I was a monster.

[domwho11]

Carth watched Meetra Surik as she left. The former Jedi walked as if the weight of a thousand worlds was on her back. Carth had to admit he knew how that felt.

"Safe journey, exile." he whispered.

Bastila approached him. Carth turned, feeling his heart quicken.

"Did she know?" asked Bastila.

Carth shook his head.

"No she didn't."

"There are times when I fear we shall never know why he left, Carth. And I cannot live not knowing the answer, why he sought to protect us."

Carth put his hand on Bastila's shoulder.

"He asked us to stay, to keep the Republic strong. It was important to him. And after meeting the Exile, I'm convinced there are worse things to lose in the galaxy."

Bastila put her arms around Carth and hugged him. Carth returned the hug, and before either of them knew how it happened they were kissing. A small part of Carth's mind questioned the wisdom of kissing a former Sith Lord's girlfriend but Bastila wrapped her arms around his neck and this was forgotten. When they broke the kiss Carth found himself looking into Morgana's face.

The Republic pilot stumbled backwards.

"Morgana?! But...!"

"Second time lucky huh Fleet?" she said.

Then they were on Telos as the bombs fell. Carth watched as Morgana and the surrounding countryside were turned into ash. Carth ran, trying to get to cover. He tripped and went sprawling. Carth dragged himself to his feet. He was in an old stone chamber. Dustil was there, as were Revan and Juhani.

"Dustil? Is that you?"

Dustil rolled his eyes.

"Oh lovely. It's Father."

Carth grabbed Dustil's hand.

"We need to get out of here. The Sith are coming!"

"It's all right Father, really."

Dustil prised Carth's hand loose and went to stand next to Revan.

"I was afraid; lost, alone and broken. You made me believe in you and when it counted you let me down. I just wanted you to know that."

Carth reached for Dustil but the image shifted and twisted and he was...

...standing on the Leviathan, Saul Karath's body on the floor next to him. Only it wasn't Saul, it was Carth himself. Carth realised that this was some kind of nightmare. He wanted it to be over, for these horrible images to stop. He turned and he was in the apartment on Taris again, watching over Revan as he slept. Revan woke up and looked at him. Carth knew he was the Sith Lord, and Revan knew he knew. Moments passed in silence. Then Revan said "So what happens now?"

"That depends on how reasonable we're both willing to be." said Carth.

Revan barked a laugh.

"If your idea of "reasonable" is kissing my wife."

"Revan, you..."

"Shush, shush, enough."

Revan waved a hand and Carth fell silent.

"Despite what I may have said in the past, you're a good man, Carth Onasi."

Revan put his hand on Carth's shoulder.

"It's been an honour fighting alongside you."

Then Carth was being shaken awake. Three Republic soldiers stared down at him. Carth remembered where he was. The Unknown world, the beach. Revan and Bastila had been there, they had killed the others. Carth groaned as a tear rolled down his face.

One of the Republic soldiers spoke into a communicator.

"One survivor. Bringing him in now."

Carth grabbed the man's wrist.

"No wait."

Carth looked up at the orbiting Star Forge.

"I got a better idea."

[kick-girl]

I haven't really drawn much for fun lately! But I was drawing these doodles while watching Twisters with my husband and that was nice!

"Peace is a Lie" is a doofy fanfic that I've been working on! In case you haven't seen my posts about it, you can read the first five chapters on ao3:

I've started working on Chapter 6, but it's not close to ready yet. Now that I've gotten back to work, I've gotten a little slower with the updates. I'm thinking that Chapter 8 will be the last chapter, but I guess we'll see when I get there!

If you read it, I hope you like it so far! Would love to know your thoughts <3

[amandamadeathing]

I'm getting serious about writing my first Star Wars fic. What era or series are people writing in? Reblog, or comment with details, including characters and related materials.

[obscene-visage]

Should I rewrite my star wars fic from 2006/07? Do people still read KOTOR II themed fics? Where do I even post it nowadays? I'm old, lol

[citruswriter]

When you have so many damn things you wanna write so you just create a massive randomizer wheel to pick what to write for you. 😭😂😅

[blade-liger-4ever]

So, I've decided to start something.

Well, a series of somethings.

I've had some Star Wars AU ideas as of late, which I'm thinking of turning into little ficlets that will be posted on Tumblr. If I feel bold enough from my experiences here, I may transfer them over to my WordPress account, but time will tell on that front. In most of these fanfics (which hopefully won't be long - or not, we'll see), there are going to be featured a couple of OCs, as well as established character/OC relationship(s) over previously established pairings. Many of you will probably be discontent over this, however, I will do my best to explain these new pairings and why I was dissatisfied with the original love interest.

Before I get into that however, I will introduce one of these OCs, who was also inspired by the lost potential of one of Disney's most recent princesses.

Click below, and you shall see Starkiller/Galen Marek's AU love interest: Raya Karimi, descendant of the noble House of Zakuul.

Now, before we get going, let me say something: I do not hate Juno Eclipse. I did, however, find the connection between her and Galen...a little unsettling. I am not saying it was unhealthy or toxic, nor am I saying that Juno should have never been in the same room as Galen. That said, it seemed, at least in the second game for sure, that Galen was over-relying on her and putting too much of his needs/hopes on her for his own good. And no, I'm not agreeing with what the narrative said about Vader having control over Galen so long as she lived. I think what I'm trying to say is that, she ended up being a Living Emotional Crutch for him, and that trope - whether applied to a man or woman, in real life or in fiction - deeply unsettles me. The idea that someone needs another person in order to operate as a human being, or to be kept from totally falling apart...it doesn't sit well with me, and, I suppose, scares me. I don't want that for either of them, hence a new love interest for Galen.

Now, whether or not Juno lived after that final cutscene in Force Unleashed II, I confess, for the purposes of this AU...Juno does die. In the main Star Wars universe that I envision, she does live, but for the purposes of my story, it only makes sense that she is killed by either Darth Vader or Boba Fett. Galen can only do so much to protect her, and moreover, the likelihood of either of those villains killing her is extremely high. PROXY will, quite possibly, be at least salvageable here as well; I don't yet know if he will be a series of pieces that Galen and Raya and their other two crew members will have to put back together, or have his parts integrated into a separate unit. Considering I gave Raya a revamped HK-77 assassin/protocol droid as her muscle pre-meeting Galen (HK-77s are from Legends, by the way; look them up), PROXY's role may be redundant, in which case, some of his salvageable components would be used for HK.

She will also have a small, cat-dragon hybrid known as a felico. Her name is Tapi, and I'm trying to picture her as a traditional Asiatic/Japanese dragon, but one that is small enough that she can easily climb onto someone's shoulder. I picture the same body style, but with shorter whiskers, dexterous talon-like paws, feathered wings of proper proportion, and some fur that helps her with sneaking some items off bad guys, or just all the way around enhance her cuddliness. Color wise, she might be all black or shades of gray with bright green eyes.

Raya I envision as one of the few survivors of the noble family from Zakuul, with perhaps a smidgeon of Force-sensitivity. Her family had guarded artifacts from the Old Republic Era (the time of Revan in SW:KOTOR to SW:TOR, for reference), and so she was trained in the use of both melee and ranged weapons. She was an energetic child, and a prodigy when it came to most topics, although she worked exceptionally hard to get good at working with starship systems and repairs. The Empire eventually came to Zakuul for those same artifacts, around the time Raya was twelve or fourteen. The planet attempted to fight, and was soon overpowered; however, many managed to take off with the artifacts, hiding them away from Imperial eyes. Raya was captured after one battle, and after some time, forced to watch her father's public execution. This sent her into a blind rage, and before she knew it, the squadron that had been detaining her lay at her feet in pools of blood and missing limbs. Shaken by her own actions, she managed to escape, and spent the next six or eight years bouncing across the galaxy as a freelance agent for hire. However, Raya never worked with the Empire, and even though she made apparently shady deals, it was all in the effort to locate those missing artifacts, which she managed to hide with the aid of the hidden in plain sight Jedi Haja Estree.

Following one lead on the edge of the Outer Rim/Wild Space from their efforts on Tanalorr, Raya comes across the remains of the Rogue Shadow on an unnamed planet, the owner of whom, Galen Marek, has resided in for almost a month. He's full of anger, but her stubbornness, humor, and clear disdain for the Empire manages to convince him that she is an ally and not an enemy. Working together, they leave the planet and attempt to return while being side-tracked by HK-77 picking up old, disconnected transmissions from something ancient - so ancient, in fact, that it could be a cache of artifacts from the time of Revan....

I hope you find this interesting, and if you want more, please feel free to check in for updates on it!

[cinderedrose]

Even a rebuilt assasin droid has the chance of personhood (featuring Wraith, a rebuilt HK24 unit from the mandalorian wars, giving his friend a flower)

[torilaa]

Here’s a preview for the beginning of the next chapter of Fragmented!

I might have this out today…since it is May the Fourth, but it needs some more editing and rearranging (and I need to work during my lunch…yay) so no promises ;) it may come out on revenge of the fifth which…would be more poignant honestly.

The blues of hyperspace enveloped the cockpit of the Tabula Rasa—shadows formed on my first mate’s face—blurring his features. Alen’s voice was smooth as he called the crew to attention.

“Coming out of hyperspace in five…four…”

I turned. Most of my crew were the same. Blurry faces mixed in blue light. I opened my mouth to comment on this oddity yet we’d exited hyperspace before I could form words. The green jewel that was Corellia dominated the cockpit window along with a Class II bulk freighter. The CEC manufactured ship was about as inelegant as I imagined. Brown, ugly, irregular, yet perfect camouflage for the Czerka traders that were making this deal with the Exchange.

I turned to Alen and smirked at his tight shoulders.

“Why so serious?” I bumped my elbow with his. “It’s a blaster run for the Exchange. We’ve made harder deals before.”

“I…want to make the deal this time, Captain.”

“You?” I snorted. “Alen, the last time you led a deal we lost out on credits. Too many. Oh, and Kel lost an arm.”

“Wes. Please.” He frowned at me after saying my name. “For once, just let me do this. Trust me.”

And I trusted him. Of course I did. I knew him for years and perhaps…I would have even considered him a friend.

But trusting him?

It was the biggest mistake of my career.

Alen left the ship, taking two other crew mates with him. I watched the bulk freighter outside the cockpit windows with a frown. Why was I worried? The deal was a snitch, Alen would have to mess up on purpose in order for it to go wrong. I glanced at the co-pilot controls, the one Alen had been sitting with this entire time, plugging in the hyperspace coordinates. Except…a red light blinked on and off in a pattern. A code.

My eyes widened.

No.

Before the transmission could end, I jumped into the pilot’s seat and twisted the ship around, breaking off of the bulk freighter. Out of nowhere, a troop of Republic fighters appeared near the aft.

Alen betrayed me.

No.

I sucked in a deep breath—the green planet drew closer and closer. Pain. Pain in my chest. Why? The faceless crew shouted at me yet I didn’t hear their words. How could he? Blood dripped past my lips and suddenly I was on the ground. Dying. Bones broken…everything broken. I couldn’t see anymore. Except the gray eyes. Couldn’t feel anymore. Her soft hand grabbed my face. Why would he? You know why. All I wanted was to die because of the pain, because—

You. Know. Why.

[domwho11]

The bottom, top and sides had fallen out of Merrick's world. His heart and hands burned to squeeze the galaxy in one mighty fist; to make Bastila give him what was his by right. He had found the young Jedi with Carth. They had been kissing passionately. Merrick had thrown Carth into the wall with the Force and screamed in his face to leave Bastila alone. That she was Merrick's, and only Merrick's. Bastila had slapped Merrick as hard as she possibly could and told him she had never had feelings for him in the first place. Merrick had stormed out of the Ebon Hawk, shouting that they would all pay. Did this mean he had fallen to the dark side? Inside Merrick felt hurt and pain and anger. He was the hero. He had rescued Bastila from the Taris swoop gang. So why did she not want him? Merrick stared out at Manaan's ocean. He wished that the sea could just swallow him up; that all those numberless fathoms of water could fill the empty places inside. Merrick heard footsteps approaching. He turned. It was Jolee.

"Got something on your mind, do you?" Jolee said.

"I..." Merrick began.

He looked at the ground.

"It's nothing."

"It must be something for you to scream in your best friend's face and charge out of the ship like a hunger crazed bantha." said Jolee.

"It's just... I thought Bastila and I... I thought we had something. I guess I got it wrong."

"Sometimes the only control you have over a situation is to accept you have no control. Bastila has to make her own choices. And so do you."

"I'm supposed to be the hero. Bastila should want only me. I don't understand why she doesn't."

"Why do you need Bastila to want you, Merrick?"

"Because I need someone to tell me I'm not a monster. I need someone to believe in me. So I can believe in myself."

Jolee harrumphed.

"It's hardly Bastila's job to provide those things for you. You need to find them inside yourself. I and the others will help. But you can't hate or blame Bastila for the way she feels. About you or about Carth."

Merrick barked a laugh.

"Carth is a war hero. I'm a guy in a bathrobe with a lightstick."

"Kid, there will always be people who are better or stronger or smarter than you. But those people will never be YOU. We can't do this mission without you. We need your help."

"I..."

Merrick paused. He looked out at the ocean. Then he turned back to Jolee.

"Do you really think I can do it?" he asked.

"Defeat Malak. Save the Republic."

"Anyone can win a fight when the odds are easy." said Jolee.

"It's when the going is tough, when there seems to be no chance, that's when it counts."

Merrick seemed to turn in on himself. Then he looked at Jolee.

"OK."

***

Merrick walked up the Ebon Hawk's ramp into the ambient coolness of the ship itself. Merrick turned a corner and nearly collided with Canderous.

"Watch it."

"Sorry Canderous."

A pause.

"Have you seen Bastila?"

The big Mandalorian laughed.

"She's in her bunk. If I were you I'd space Republic and get a pilot who can keep his hands to himself."

"Thanks, I'll think about it." said Merrick.

Merrick approached Bastila's dorm room. The door was closed. Merrick thought that as he had come this far he may as well continue. Merrick knocked on the door.

"Bastila? It's me, Merrick."

Silence.

Merrick rested his head against the door's cold metal.

"Bastila, I don't hate you for choosing Carth over me. That's your decision and I accept that. I'd like us to still be friends. And work together to save the Republic. I'm sorry for what I did. There's no excuse."

Merrick turned around and made to leave. He had barely gone three steps when he heard the door swish open behind him. Merrick turned around. Bastila was there. Her face was red and tear stained but she otherwise seemed composed.

"Thank you for apologising, Merrick." said Bastila.

Merrick smiled.

"It's the least I could do."

Merrick found Carth in the cockpit. The two men stood a few feet apart, neither of them saying anything.

Then Merrick said "I'm sorry."

Carth regarded him warily.

"Don't apologise to me. Just make sure we complete our mission."

"Right. Right." said Merrick.

He turned to leave. At the last moment Merrick turned back and said:

"You should know that I am sorry Carth. I really mean that."

"Just don't endanger the mission. And don't endanger her."

"I... I'll do my best." said Merrick.

Carth turned away from Merrick and sat down at the ship's controls.

"We've still got one more Star Map to find. So let's just do that. I sure hope there aren't any surprises waiting for us."

"So do I." said Merrick quietly.

[kick-girl]

“That desperate to be close to me, Revan?” Malak taunted.

“Hardly,” Revan responded coldly, without looking at him.

“You’re wearing my color,” he leaned into her space, looking at her intently. “I’m flattered.”

***

This is the chapter where Revan is forced to wear a dress that she hates. YAY!!!

Man, I've been having a blast writing this silly thing. I hope you guys will read it and enjoy it. Chapter 5 is already done, but I figured I should save it for tomorrow! I'm excited! Til then! 💖

[yellow-faerie]

Immortality AU

There’s a woman standing at the edge of the cantina. She has a drink in her hand – something the colour of a Felucian flower – and is smiling, softly, as she taps her foot to the beat of the music. Her eyes are a pale blue – so pale that it is noticeable in the dingy lighting and from such a distance – with laugh lines creasing at their edges as she keeps her avid attention focused on the singer.

It would be difficult to tell how old she is, just from looking. She’s almost definitely human, so the wrinkles and her almost-white hair would put her on the older end of the spectrum, but there’s still the soft curve of early adulthood to her.

So late thirties, maybe early forties.

Her name is Meetra Surik and though she does not look it, she is nearly four thousand years old.

None of this does Qui-Gon Jinn tell Padmé, the young handmaiden who had insisted (on the Queen’s demand) to accompany him on this mission, for he had told her they were coming here to see if they could source an alternative form of transport if they couldn’t fix the ship.

And in a way, they were, but Qui-Gon was never sure how Surik and her less agreeable companion worked. There was every chance that they would make vague conversation until Qui-Gon admitted defeat and they had to work out another solution to their problem.

Damn immortals.

“Master Qui-Gon,” Surik greets as he gets close enough to hear her, although she doesn’t take her eyes from the singer, “aren’t you meant to be orbiting Naboo? Negotiations with the Trade Federation, wasn’t it?”

Qui-Gon can feel Padmé’s surprise in the Force, likely that he knew anyone on this Force forsaken rock. “Do you keep tabs on everyone, or is it just me?”

“Can you blame a woman for looking out for her lineage?”

“You know each other?” Padmé asks, intervening. Either it is her diplomatic skills coming out, breaking up a potential argument before it starts, or – and this was much more likely in Qui-Gon’s opinion – she was curious and couldn’t help herself.

“I trained his Master’s Jedi Master,” Surik says pleasantly and finally takes her eyes away from the performer. “Master Meetra Surik, at your service.”

“Padmé Naberrie.”

There’s a flash of amusement in her eyes. “I take it that you have got caught up in whatever went wrong with Master Jinn’s recent mission?”

“I’m the Queen of Naboo’s handmaiden. And it wasn’t Master Jinn’s fault, the Trade Federation didn’t even let the negotiations for our planet begin before they tried to kill him and Padawan Kenobi, and invade our planet.”

Surik’s smile falls into something more serious. “A planetary invasion? That’s a bold move.”

“It is,” Qui-Gon agrees quickly, not feeling quite comfortable to discuss the issue so publicly. “The escape was not kind on our ship, we need a way off planet so that the Queen may speak in the senate.”

At that, Surik’s smile returns in all it’s slightly lopsided glory. “Luckily for you, we have a ship.”

“And what about ours?” Padmé asks. “The one we came in?”

Meetra shrugs. “Do what you want with it: sell it, leave it for scrap, find a way to repair it. Just comm us when you’re ready, we’ll do a pick up.”

The singer has stopped now, to muted applause from the otherwise self-absorbed clientele of the cantina, and stepped down from the stage to get her money from the bartender.

“Then we shall meet you then,” Qui-Gon says quickly and Meetra’s smile grows.

“Are you sure I cannot tempt you to a drink?”

Qui-Gon looks at the singer, returning a few credits for a drink an even brighter colour than Meetra’s, and thinks that now is not a time to talk to Revan.

In fact, it is never a time to talk to Revan, but especially not when Obi-Wan is not there to be a buffer.

“Another time, perhaps,” he says smoothly, putting a hand on Padmé’s back to gently guide her out of the cantina, “we have a ship to sell.”

[ergomaria]

The Past is Gone (But Something Might Be Found)

The Past is Gone (But Something Might Be Found) (17156 words) by MariaLee Chapters: 3/8 Fandom: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carth Onasi/Revan, Alek | Darth Malak/Revan, The Jedi Exile/Atton "Jaq" Rand, Atris/The Jedi Exile Characters: Revan (Star Wars), Male Revan (Star Wars), The Jedi Exile, Female Jedi Exile, Alek | Darth Malak, Carth Onasi Additional Tags: Age Regression/De-Aging, Teenagers, Teenage Drama, Gray Revan (Star Wars), Gray Jedi Exile (Star Wars), The Force Is Weird (Star Wars), Force Rituals (Star Wars), Accidental Use of the Force (Star Wars), Babysitting, Redemption, Alek is Trying His Best, Revan is a little shit, The Jedi Exile is a little shit, Carth is a Good Friend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 5 of Not Perfection but Completeness Summary: Alek, formerly known as Supreme Commander Malak, formerly the secret Sith leader of the Korriban and Trayus Academies, has made a lot of mistakes in his life. He knows there is no way for him to atone for all of the suffering, betrayal, and death he caused so he plans to wander the edges of known space for the rest of his miserable life. But a distress call changes everything when it presents Alek with an improbable situation - a Force ritual gone awry has transformed Meetra Surik, Carth Onasi, and Vann Chis (better known as Revan) into 18-year-old versions of themselves. These innocent, naÏve adolescents have no memories of the war-torn adults they become and lack the skills to uphold the promises their adult selves made. Worse, they're kriffing annoying and Alek is stuck babysitting them as he frantically searches for a solution. Forced to team up with unlikely allies and face the literal faces of his past, can Alek find a path to absolution amid this mess? More importantly, can he prevent the galaxy's favorite heroes from getting themselves killed before he can restore them to their correct ages? Only the Force knows for certain, and it seems to delight in dragging Alek along for the ride!