#oh look. it's the beginning of the no jedi allowed part of the no jedi allowed au

[techtalksfics]

Rex Headcanon - Make Out

Author Note: So I am just testing out the waters with a 'reg' clone. This is sort of a ficlet, based on a headcanon. Rex seems easier than the others to write. But I have plans for Hardcase, Fives, Cody & Gregor next.

Rex

Private:You occasionally found yourself alone with Rex and in various situations that were often brought about by your friend, Anakin. He’d thrown you together in lodgings on missions and bars when there was downtime. He’d even pushed you into a briefing room once when Rex was handing out assignments, he simply looked at you perplexed. But one-night things became very different.

The first night. That first night where you finally caved, turning slowly away from the ways of the Jedi. You felt the end of the war closing in around the Jedi, despair weighing heavy, although you were not sure why.

You were out on the balcony, avoiding the political wolves and the generally unpleasant ambience of the inner gathering.

“General Skywalker, he – uh,” Rex sighed with frustration, he could never get his words out around you. He also knew why Anakin had pushed him out towards you. “He sent me to find you.” You turned with your champagne flute in hand and tipped it towards him slightly, “consider me found.” After a long moment, Rex moved to stand next to you, both of you watching the speeders race on by. You held the railing with one hand and he with both of his.

The warmth of his hands radiated beside your ever cold ones made you shiver with an odd sort of pleasure. Slowly and with a dash of confidence in the comfortable silence, he moved his hand towards yours until the tips of his fingers danced across the flesh of your hand. When he saw you suck in a breath, he suddenly knew that Anakin had been right. That you had felt it too. And then suddenly, you whispered “oh, sod it,” out into the night.

Taking hold of his hand fully, you manoeuvred his body close to yours and mashed your lips into his, praying he would kiss you back. Rex was elated, it took but a moment to move his arm around your waist and hold you close, and he kissed you firmly. And then he kissed you deeply. The weight and heat of your whole body was against it, and it drove him wild. He licked at your lips, praying for access. When you allowed it, your tongues danced wildly. He groaned loudly.  

Eventually, when you pulled away from one another, he placed a hand on your cheek and smiled at you softly, “I…we…” he sighed softly but the undertone of mirth was a pleasant change, “we should get back before the General comes looking for us.”

“Something tells me that he has no intention of looking for us, Rex,” you giggled as he offered you his arm.  

-------------------

 Public: the fallout of Order 66 had led Rex to believe you had been killed and vice versa. You’d escaped with your life but very little else. In hiding and in retreat, you spent your days meditating. Things were lonely but peaceful. Much like the first time you had met them, the Bad Batch came stumbling into your life with a crash and with time, Rex reappeared in theirs. When he saw you walk in with Omega, his lips parted, and his world spun off its axis. When you saw him, the galaxy imploded in your heart. But removing the chips took precedence over everything else.

As everyone waited for Wrecker to wake from his surgery, Rex had asked if you would walk with him. You stood outside, watching him as he watched the horizon. The sun was beginning to set in the distance.

“If I had known you were alive…” His sigh was heavy, “after Order 66… that order… so many jedi were dead. I… I thought you were gone. If I had known…” When he turned to look at you, expecting disappointment but he found known. Instead, you took his hand in both of yours and placed it over your heart. He felt the thum, thum, thum, of your beating heart and his face heated, pink spreading over his features.

“Very much alive,” you murmured.

“Very much so,” he replied, lifting his hand to play with strands of your hair. Mindlessly focusing on you, he leaned his head down and placed a kiss on your cheek. His hot breath lingered as he pulled away. So, you did the thing he could not, you grabbed at his neck and pulled his lips flush against yours. It was hot and heated. Full of longing and promise. Something you had both desired and missed in equal measure. Your arms, around his neck; his hands dipped to your waist, gently digging into your flesh.

Then you heard a crashing sound from close by. Pulling apart, you both searched for the source of the noise and with a smile, you announced, “it’s okay Echo, I know you’re there.”

“So… this is the Jedi that had you losing your mind?” Echo jested as he appeared from the shadows. Rex simply cleared his throat and mumbled a soft yes to his friend as you giggled and placed your hand on his chest. “He used to talk about you constantly… it was very irritating.” Rex sighed, dropping his head to his now raised hand as blushed from pink to crimson.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC questionnaire

Thanks to @eccaiia here, @mysticstarlightduck here and here, and @elsie-writes here!

Other questionnaires:

Robbie, Gwen, Maddie, Noelle, Jedi, and Kelsey here.

Carmen, George, Akash, Sam, Lexi, and Ash here.

Gabriel, Carla, Parker, Rose, Alex, and Ewan here.

Liam, Hye-Jin, Wendy, Wade, Issa, and CJ here.

Teo, Niri, Jazlyn, and Anathi here.

Below the cut, I will do Tyler, Xitlali, Atsila, and Raissa!

#1- Tyler

Are you an outdoorsy person or a fair weather freak?

“Outdoors suck. Would rather stay inside. Gym is inside. Books are inside. Why bother dealing with outside?’

Do you like animals? Have any pets?

“Have a poodle named Jolene. No, we didn't style her hair. She's perfect as is.”

What's one thing you keep on you at all times?

“... Did you know that the last thing you think about before you fall asleep is the first thing you remember in the morning? So the night before a big test, study right before going to bed! That'll keep you up at night.”

#2- Raissa

Do you have any weird or unusual habits?

“Absolutely not. There is nothing weird about me. Though John complains about me sighing too much. He once said I breathe out more air than I breathe in.”

Are you a night owl or a morning bird?

“These are ridiculous Ceteri phrases that make no sense. But my answer is neither, or both. You decide how to interpret it. I have devised a daily potion that allows me to properly function on a mere five hours of sleep, rather than the eight most people need. I'm up early and late. Now, if only I can get my team to help find a way to eliminate sleep altogether...”

Who is the person you hate the most? Why?

“Atsila McLain would be such an easy answer. And I can tell you want me to say her. But no. She was merely annoying. I try to avoid thinking about her Aequales as long as I can. She thought of us as nemeses, but it was one-sided on her part. But maybe if she stopped trying to take what was rightfully mine, I would stop. She never experienced anything I did. And in the name of peace? She was an awful person. It was a relief when I killed her.”

#3- Atsila

What are your biggest pet peeves?

“Oh, spirits, I hate when people aren't doing what they're supposed to do at the speed they should do it. I mean, how hard is it to adhere to a schedule and complete your tasks in an efficient manner? I don't understand it! I tell people to do something, and they don't do it! Or, they do it in the least efficient way I've ever seen. Even something as simple as walking. Walk diagonally to get somewhere faster. No need to stay on a certain path. But no it seems like every other person here is staying on the path.”

Who is the person you look up to the most?

“I don't look up to anyone. Literally, I suppose, everyone--I am rather short. Figuratively, no one. I suppose Carmen is rather efficient. And organized. She's highly intelligent and... She listens to me. I admire her loyalty and companionship.”

Do you have any major fears?

“Absolutely not. [Pause] I suppose boredom. Mediocrity.” if I may add - it's because she's terrified at the state she'll be in if something isn't going on Right Now

#4- Xitlali

Do you have any allergies?

“I think this is a personal question. I mean, what kinda questionnaire is it? Would rather not answer it. But ekaberries. I break out in hives if I eat it.”

How many people have you kissed?

“Not as many as I'd like, but I'm only twelve, so I'll probably kiss a few girls before long.”

What is your favorite number?

“My favorite number is 63. I find it incredibly satisfying knowing it's divisible by 7. 91 is a close contender for the same reason.”

I feel like this is all of the prominent TSP characters I feel need to answer these questions. Next time I'm tagged will begin the repeats.

Tagging softly @aziz-reads @thegreatobsesso @i-can-even-burn-salad @mk-writes-stuff @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

What is your favorite thing about rain? What is your least favorite thing about it?

@willtheweaver @elsie-writes @dyrewrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

What is something you don't mind waiting a long time for?

Have you ever been punished for something you didn't do?

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy

[inklesspen]

A thing you see a lot in Star Wars material is "The Will of the Force". It's simply taken for granted a lot of the time. Oh, Jedi can argue about what the Will of the Force is in a particular situation, but nobody (except Kreia, I suppose) is ever seriously arguing that maybe the Will of the Force shouldn't automatically be obeyed. My guess is that this has something to do with how the Will of the Force is often synonymous with the Direction of the Plot. It's certainly convenient, but it raises ethical issues with which Star Wars rarely if ever bothers to engage.

“Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It is an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the galaxy together.”

I was thinking about how you can have a Jedi take direction from the Force in a way that's generally reliable (after accounting for individual error), but which doesn't require setting the Force up as a moral authority, and I came up with this:

To begin, let‘s suppose that part of how the Force interacts with sapient beings is that when you make choices — when you settle on an intent — that creates a sort of “status effect” in your connection to the Force. Even if you have no idea how to wield the Force, you‘re still leaking out that intent. And part of what a Force adept can do is basically query the intent states of sapient beings in her vicinity. This is generally done at a subconscious level. A Jedi wants to be able to intervene in unjust situations? Well, then her connection to the Force is basically running a query across all the nearby Intents, looking for someone Intending to do unwarranted harm (according to the Jedi‘s moral guidelines). This is less a "configure search agent, send it to search the net, read results later" scenario like we‘d see with technology and more like a constant feedback loop between the Jedi‘s moral instincts and the collective Force auras of everyone in town. And this produces what the Jedi senses as "the Will of the Force". (We can also say it‘s slightly acausal, allowing Jedi to react to Intents that haven‘t actually been formed yet.) But the same function that queries Intents can also “broadcast”, which is how Obi-Wan mind-tricks the stormtroopers, and part of how Battle Meditation probably works, and so on.

He called upon the Force, gathering it to himself and wrapping himself within it. He breathed it in and held it whirling inside his heart, clenching down upon it until he could feel the spin of the galaxy around him. Until he became the axis of the Universe. This was the real power of the dark side, the power he had suspected even as a boy, had sought through his long life until Darth Sidious had shown him that it had been his all along. The dark side didn’t bring him to the center of the universe. It made him the center. He drew power into his innermost being until the Force itself existed only to serve his will.

The Sith warrior, of course, has other priorities. He will certainly want to keep abreast of certain Intents in the Force, but he‘s doing a lot more spamming of his own Intent upon others. It won‘t always work, but he only has to overpower someone once, right?

Which brings me to a thing that I‘m pretty sure is just fanon — the idea that beskar‘gam can protect a mando‘ad‘s mind from jetii tricks (or, that someone wearing real Mandalorian armor is effectively a void in the Force). If this is true, then someone wearing beskar‘gam isn‘t radiating their Intent into the Force like everyone else does, though a Jedi can still sense them, if imperfectly, by the way their actions influence other people‘s Intents. Still, if you have to go up against a Force adept it‘s worth it to wear beskar if you can, because it effectively removes their precognitive sense; they can‘t react to your Intents until you‘ve acted on them in a way others can see.

So what about droids? There‘s a lot of stuff in the Clone Wars show about the battle droids being fully sapient, with feelings and fears and individualized reactions. But they‘re still networked, still driven remotely.

And that‘s because, yes, a droid can have an Intent in the Force too. Not every droid; not the little mouse droids, or at least they only have small, simple Intents. But a droid with a complex personality, like Artoo? Sure thing. He presents in the Force like any other living being. And the battle droids are getting up there in complexity.

So what do you think happens when a droid has an Intent aura, but doesn‘t do what that Intent would suggest? When a droid wants to do anything other than run headlong at the lightsaber-wielding maniac and the legion of clone troopers, but is forced to do so anyway by its programming?

I think the result is a lot of Jedi being badly served by their instincts. They know what the droid wants to do, and they want to react to what the droid wants to do, but the droid doesn‘t actually do that thing, so they have to force themselves not to react that way. They have to force themselves not to pay attention to “the Will of the Force”. And doesn‘t that sound just like something Palpatine and Dooku would want for them? The better they get at killing droid armies, the worse they get at being Jedi.

[duckiez]

going too far

Jedi!Nobara x f!Merchant!Reader — fic — 3047 words — part one

this is part of @strawberrystepmom's star wars x jjk crossover event 'It Takes A Galaxy'!

cw: the Jedi code being oppressive (as it is), mentions of previous drunkenness, mentions of spice/drugs, nonsexual undressing

Coruscant: the center of the Galaxy and a hub of beauty, excitement, and wonder.

“Yeah, right…” You scoff at the obnoxious phrase plastered on the upper wall of the airbus you find yourself seated on each and every morning. 

Sure, such a phrase might ring true for those wealthy enough to explore the surface levels, but you would never in a millennia describe Level 3349 as any of those things.

Not that you would have it any other way.

The aging bus slows to a halt as it reaches the next stop on its schedule, prompting you to shuffle your way through the crowd over to the exit. With a noisy puff of air, the airbus door lifts up and opens, smoggy air greeting you. An immediate flow of humans, Twi’leks, Rodians, and a few others spill out of the cabin along with you, everyone doing their best to go their own ways as they try to navigate the bustling early morning walkways. Tucking your hands into the pockets of your sweater, you start toward your shop.

Years ago, back when you first opened, you would find yourself riding your trusty speeder to work. It’s fast, not too expensive to keep running, and it takes you straight from your shabby apartment complex to your equally-as-shabby shop. There's a good reason you stopped though… a reason that has warm eyes and the most charming smirk you might have ever seen.

“Good morning!” A familiar voice appears beside you just as the woman does.

You turn your head to meet her gaze as you keep walking, smiling as you notice she’s got that classic smirk on. “Hey, Nobara. How was your patrol?”

She shrugs, “It was alright. Nothing to let the Temple know about. Though I did help a drunk Twi’lek back home!”

“Oh! Should I be jealous?” You half joke, not wanting to come off as too interested in the events of her night.

She forces some air through her nose as she laughs, “No, no, you’ll always be my favourite drunk Coruscanti to escort home!”

You try to ignore the rising flush in your cheeks as you roll your eyes at her. “Good! I better be!”

“Of course you are. Nobody else I’ve helped home makes an effort to keep me company and give me free coffee every morning after work!”

“Not even the other Jedi?”

Nobara shrugs, her smirk faltering, “Not usually. Most of the Jedi in the Temple are in the mess hall by the time I get back, but they tend to prefer to eat their breakfast quietly.”

Your eyes flicker over to her face as you continue on your walk, sensing more hurt than she’s ever willing to let on. You can feel your heart begin to sink in your chest, desperate to make her smile again, to make her pain go away.

“I got a shipment that came in last night… would you want to help me go through it all?”

She perks up a little, turning her head to look at you again, “You really want a Jedi to help you go through your wares?”

“Yeah! Why not?”

She gives you a look, one as if to call you foolish for asking such a question.

You burst out laughing, “What? It’s not like I sell illegal goods.”

Her look just deepens.

“I don’t!”

She lifts her hands up, as if the subject became tangible and she’s elected to drop it. Her voice is noticeably up a pitch, “Okay, whatever you say!”

“I’m hurt, Nobara!” You reach your shop, moving single file into the alleyway next door to reach the side entrance.

“Oh, you’re hurt?”

“Wounded, even.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Maybe even maimed.”

Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes at you, letting out a long sigh.

You chuckle at the way you’re able to get under her skin as you begin to type in the passcode that allows you access to your shop.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”

The large metal door clicks and then whooshes open once you input the final number of the code, the motion activated lights on the inside of the building flashing offensively a few times before turning on completely.

Looking back over at your Jedi companion, you give her a smug smile before walking inside, “I know.”

Nobara follows you inside, the sounds of both your footsteps against the tile flooring echoing through the hall. The door you came in through clicks once again as it closes, leaving the two of you to the privacy of your store.

“So what exactly did you get in last night?”

Nobara looks around at the hallway as if she hasn’t seen it countless times before. You assume it’s a Jedi thing, always scanning areas for danger. The only danger she can see are grimy walls that are in desperate need of a wipe down and a concerningly adorable merchant with a silver tongue and a heart of gold. Not that she would ever utter any of that aloud.

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that. There should be some candies from the Outer Rim in there, which I’m beyond excited to try!” You enter another passcode, allowing you access into your backroom. The walls are lined with shelves and the shelves are lined with organized containers, each one labeled with names of different items you typically carry in your store.

“Oh wow, I haven’t had candy since I was a youngling.” She speaks with a bit of shock, a large part of her forgetting that such foods even existed. 

You head over to the box that was delivered the day before, swiping your delivery card through the card reader to gain access to your new merchandise.

Tucking her short hair behind her ears, Nobara steps closer to you in order to get a better look at what’s in the box. The two of you stand shoulder-pressed-to-shoulder as you look at the contents of the box. 

The dark grey of the sizable metal box contrasts harshly against the brightly coloured boxes of candy, clearly manufactured to entice younglings into screaming at their parents until they relent and purchase multiple dozens of credits worth of the sweets. It’s not a terrible marketing strategy, you think to yourself, but you couldn’t imagine having shouting youths in your shop disturbing your other customers so you make a mental note to store the candies in different containers.

Along with the packages of candy, you notice the real reason you invited Nobara back to help. Next to the candy is a wooden chest with an ornate design carved into the top and sides of it, the markings painted in blue and gold. “What’s in there?” Nobara looks at you, her expression difficult to read.

“Spice.”

She rolls her eyes again, nudging you a little. “I’m serious!”

“Let’s take it out and look.” You wiggle your eyebrows at her as you move around the box, leaning over to grab one side of the chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”

Nobara reaches her hand out, thumb and first two fingers outstretched as her ring and little finger fold down toward her palm. She blinks and takes a breath, clearing her mind.

You stand watching her in silence, fascinated by what she’s about to do. You’ve never seen anyone, not even Nobara, use the Force before.

The Jedi’s eyes fixate on the chest inside of the delivery box, the object lifting in tandem with her hand. She takes a step back, holding the chest in the air for a moment before moving it away from the container that held it and placing it on the floor in front of her. She immediately looks over at you for approval, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Wow… maybe I should hire you.”

“You’re telling me I’m not getting compensated for this?”

You both grin at each other, starting to laugh.

You nod your head at her, gesturing for her to open the chest. “Hopefully this will make up for it.”

She squints her eyes at you, trying to figure out what you’re up to. She foregoes that though, understanding the soonest she’ll get her answers is if she simply follows along with your questionable plot. Focusing her attention on the chest, she kneels down and flips the latch up, lifting the lid cautiously. Despite a moderately musky scent, Nobara senses nothing to be concerned about and opens the box all the way. Peeking inside, she notices layers and layers of dusty blue and purple fabric layered on top of itself. 

Her hands reach in and meet the fabric, the material cool and smooth against her fingers. She stands up with the unknown item remaining in her hands, unfolding from itself as she moves. A few short moments later, a floor length dress is revealed to her, consisting of a corseted bodice and a skirt with layers upon layers of luxurious cloth. Nobara’s eyes wander along the garment endlessly, admiring everything from the seams to the beadwork on the bodice to how the skirt seems to flow even with the lack of wind.

You startle her out of her trance when you break the silence.

“Isn’t it beautiful? It once belonged to a Queen from Rishi.”

“How did you manage to come into possession of this?” Her eyes don’t leave the gown.

“Some clones who just so happen to be regulars of mine found it while stationed out there.”

“Lucky find…”

“I’ll say. Though I don’t think I’ll sell it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to give it to you.”

Nobara’s face turns serious, her gaze finally moving from the dress and toward you, “I can’t take this dress.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not. Jedi aren’t allowed material possessions like these.”

“What’s one dress?”

“It’s not about the dress.”

“Then what is it about?”

“The principle! It’s forbidden.”

You give her a slightly irritated look, “Well you tried to tell me our friendship was forbidden the first night we met. Now look at us.”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Because…” Nobara pauses, redirecting the conversation, “This is a very elegant piece of clothing and I’m meant to wear these robes day in and day out.”

“And you don’t think you’ll have just as genuine a connection to the Force in something you actually want to wear? Something that makes you happy?”

Nobara goes silent. 

You didn’t mean for this to result in an argument.

Your voice softens when you go to speak again, “How about you just try the dress on. Put it on for two minutes and then take it off. No harm done, right?”

She swallows hard, “I don’t know.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fine. Besides, who says you can’t admire exquisite fashion while also being the best Jedi the galaxy has ever seen?”

“I don’t know if I’d say ‘the best’…” She finally laughs a little.

“Please? For me? I need to know how it looks on someone anyway if I’m to even consider selling it. Look for tears and whatnot.”

Nobara takes a deep breath in before sighing. “Alright. I’ll try it on.”

A grin spreads across your face and you clap your hands in excitement.

Handing you the dress, Nobara laughs again as she goes to unbuckle her toolbelt, placing it and her lightsaber on one of the shelves.

“Oh, you’re… you don’t mind that I’m in the room?”

Your mouth goes dry as you try your best to speak.

“Of course, I trust you. Besides, it's just our natural form.” She shrugs, in doing so her robe falls to the floor.

“No, that… that makes sense!” You smile a little awkwardly at her, trying not to stare as she begins to undress further.

Next comes her boots and her waist sash, placing the latter with her belt. Once the entire process is over, she stands in front of you in neutral coloured underclothes and there is a fairly large pile of Jedi garb resting on your merchandise shelves. Her eyes go to meet yours but she notices you’re looking away, up toward the ceiling.

“Hey?” Her voice is as soft as ever.

You finally look over at her, your grip on the dress tightening as you do your best not to look her up and down.

All she does is smile at you, giving you a comfort you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

Smiling back at her, you give her the dress, watching her as she just holds it. Now she’s the awkward looking one.

“Do you need help?”

She tucks her hair behind one of her ears, nodding as her face heats up, “Yes please.”

You take a step closer to her, doing your best to lift the dress up over her head, “Arms up.”

“Straight up?”

“Mhm!”

Her eyes widen as she smiles, “if you say so!”

Following your directions, her arms go up above her head, finally allowing you to slip the bottom of the dress onto her, helping it down her toned form. She allows you to move her body and the dress how you need, trying not to disturb your process. Once the bodice is properly on her torso, you start to lace up the corset, your fingers working at the delicate ribbon

“Let me know if it’s uncomfortable and I can loosen it, okay?”

“Okay.” She whispers out, still not wanting to affect what you’re doing.

Your fingers tug at the ribbon, tightening the dress onto Nobara so it fits her just right. Once you reach the top hooks of the corset, you take the remaining ribbon and tie it in a beautiful bow.

You fluff up the back of the skirt somewhat before moving to the front of her, wanting to see how it looks. When you see her though, you’re met with the sight of the most enchanting person you have ever seen.

The Jedi-turned-princess in front of you notices you staring, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Does it look terrible?”

“No, not at all. You look… perfect.”

She gives you a bashful smile, her eyes going to the floor.

“Not that you don’t look perfect in your Jedi clothes!” You go to correct yourself, “I think you look wonderful all the time.”

She giggles, that smirk you’re used to coming back to her face, though a little softer now.

You go to open your mouth but nothing comes out, pausing to look for the words as your tongue touches your teeth, “Hold on… not that I’m always looking at you!”

She purses her lips together to stop herself from smiling too much, tilting her head at you with raised brows.

“You know what? How about I stop talking and bring you a mirror?”

You don’t let her answer before walking off to another part of your storage room, seeking out a fancy new mirror you had purchased just a few days ago. It is a full length mirror created by an artisan on Naboo, one of the greatest the planet has ever seen—or so he was advertised as. Finding it leaning against the wall, you pick it up and bring it over to Nobara.

“Okay, close your eyes while I set this up!”

She does as you tell her again, closing her eyes lightly as you prop the mirror up against one of the tall shelving units.

You move to stand next to her again, checking the position of the mirror.

“Alright… open.”

Nobara’s eyes flutter open slowly, her eyes meeting her reflection.

She whispers out a barely audible “wow…”

“It’s like it was made for you.”

“I haven’t seen my reflection in years…”

You turn your head to look at her, waiting for her to compile her thoughts.

“Sure, sometimes I see it in the windows on the street or in the water… but never like this.” She starts to look at the whole picture, not just her face, taking note of how the dress falls on her waist to how the corset hugs her chest. For the first time since she can remember, Nobara is actually able to admire herself, to take wonder in something other than the Force.

“How about I keep it here?”

She gives you a puzzled look in the mirror.

“I’ll keep this dress here for you, wrap it up, keep it in a cool place. You can come by and wear it whenever you’d like.”

Her shoulders relax and her face takes on an expression you've seen many times before—one of thankfulness. 

“Are you sure? I know something like this would sell for quite a lot.”

You give her a half shrug, “Yeah, I don’t mind. It looks like it was made for you anyway.”

She smiles, giving herself another lookover in the mirror, but her smile fades again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just that… sometimes I wish I wasn’t a Jedi.”

“It’s no big deal. I can carve out a whole section of this storage room just for pretty clothes you like! I know it isn’t the same as actually being able to wear them all the time and go out and stuff but—”

“It’s not that.” Her jaw clenches.

“Then what is it?”

Her eyes meet yours through the reflection again, she looks almost afraid.

You move so you’re standing in between her and the mirror, looking at her again

“What is it? Is it the war? I know it’s terrifying but Chancellor Palpatine is convinced that the war will be over in the next year.”

“It’s not the war!” Nobara speaks firmly, her breaths deep but laboured, “Or the dress… It’s you.”

“Me?”

“How is it that love is forbidden for what it seems like the only group doing anything to stop hatred and evil from conquering the Galaxy? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

You give the smallest of nods, looking toward the wall, “It doesn’t make much sense to me either.”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” The words come out shaky and unconfident, two words you would never use to describe the woman in front of you.

You spare her the stress, the fear of rejection, the agony of waiting.

“I love you too.”

[isaut]

51!

star wars au. jedi!yuki x twi'lek!reader. you thought i'd get future nostalgia and NOT have to do star wars au? think again.

song

The club is heady. Packed with visitors from across the galaxy, drinks pouring freely from the multiple bars, fog machines adding to the mysterious atmosphere. The visitors all have glazed over eyes, and a few are aging prematurely.

A pretty humanoid with purple skin bumps up against Yuki, giggling happily with two drinks in her hand. She passes one of the steaming beverages to Yuki, squeezing her bicep as she passes.

Yuki takes a sniff of the beverage. It turns her stomach with how sugary sweet it smells. Hibiscus and cherry. She keeps it in her hand, however, to prevent another from being given to her.

Had Yuki not been here on business, perhaps she would have enjoyed the scene. Everyone moving in perfect rhythm, perfectly in sync with the music. Too in sync with the music.

A human woman with the same glazed over eyes and wrinkles on his face begins to dance on Yuki. She grabs her arm and leans in, close enough to breathe against her ear. Gentle energy pushes from her fingertips, pulsing through the woman's body to remove some of the fog. "I'm looking for the High Priestess. Know where she is?"

The woman blinks, then points up to a balcony, illuminated by humming purple lights. Yuki follows her finger, and ends up meeting the gaze of a twi'lek with crystal clear eyes and adorned with pearls.

"You should leave," Yuki urges the woman. She points towards the door. "There's the exit."

The fog had already returned to the woman's eyes. She smiles at Yuki, resting her hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should stay with me, instead?"

"Sorry, gorgeous. I have a date." Yuki slips out from her grasp. She watches as another twi'lek slips behind a beaded curtain, arms laden with beverages and finger foods, and follows.

The balcony is well furnished. With low, long seating that allows for guests to sprawl long limbs out. As she enters, the weight of her lightsaber rings against her hip. A few scantily clad, attentive twi'leks perch around the pearl-adorned one, who lounges with her legs spread out over cushions.

You reach towards the platter that had just been set down before you, picking up one of the peeled fruits and popping it in your mouth. You look over at Yuki, eyes raking over her figure, or at least what you could see of it. Her tight clothes were covered by a long, black robe.

"This is a no-weapons allowed facility," You say, plucking up one of the bits of fruit and holding it out to Yuki, "Jiruusi fruit?"

"Your hospitality never fails to amaze me," Yuki says. She hovers above you, eyeing the fruit.

You bite half of it, fruit pooling around your lips. Once you've swallowed, you offer the other half to Yuki. Good faith that it wasn't poisoned.

Yuki plucks the fruit from your fingers and pops it into her mouth. "How'd you get Jiruusi goods in through the blockade?"

"And why would I tell a jedi that?" You hum. "Then I'd never get anything nice ever again."

"I'm hurt, Ophie. I thought we were friends."

"Really? I thought we were more than friends."

Yuki pulls a chair over, sitting down in it. It's almost too large for her, as you preferred to decorate to your needs instead of the standard humanoid.

"Let's start over," You suggest. "It's good to see you again, Yuki. I've missed you, you should come around more often."

Yuki leans forward, elbows resting on her knees and hands hanging. "And you're still as beautiful as the last time I saw you."

"Much better," You hum. You pick up another fruit, taking a bite of half of it and offering the other part to Yuki. She takes it from you. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, the usual. The council wants you to return, or they want you dead. Want me to kill you again?" She pops the fruit in her mouth.''

You sigh, a smile on your lips. "I'd rather it be you than anyone else, gorgeous."

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: “Call To Action”

The first entry in our finale arc and the moment the gloves came off and Rebels went, “Oh you thought I was a nice safe little kids cartoon huh?  Hold my beer.”

Yet another gorgeous establishing shot.

This sequence is staged/blocked as a parallel to the Emperor arriving on the Death Star in Return of the Jedi, the looming Star Destroyer, the Lambda shuttle, troops lined up in neat formation and the Imperial March at full ominous strength.  Fitting given that we’re bringing in the big guns.

ANDTHENTHERE’STHISASSHOLE.jpeg

Tarkin was offhand mentioned as being the governor of the Outer Rim early in the series, and “Tarkintown” was a direct result of laws and policy he put into place that allowed the Empire to simply seize people’s properties to strip mine them for resources, so he’s kind of been a very background looming shadow for our Rebels from the beginning and wastes no time dressing everyone present down for making him have to come out to this stupid insignificant backwater planet personally.

The roasting is epic.

“Look I know you’re an airheaded ditz who only got this job because Pryce is too busy faffing around the Core Worlds but you could at least not look so incompetent at it.”

“ancient history“ BITCH THAT WAS WITHIN YOUR LIFETIME.  YOU WORKED WITH ANAKIN AND OBI-WAN.  YOU WERE THERE.

Tarkin seems awfully certain there’s no possible way Kanan can be a Jedi.  I wonder if it’s a matter of he truly doesn’t believe that any survived or he’s not very impressed with Kanan as compared to the Jedi he knew.

Note again: No fanfare.

We lighten things up a bit with a brief little action setpiece, calling back to the speeder chase in the pilot.  It’s the kind of safe peril you’d expect from the early part of the show, no mess, no trouble, just fun adventure set to exciting music cues and watching our heroes be cool.

You know... lulling us into a false sense of security.

Sabine once again participating in the banter with Ezra and even throwing in a sweet little shoulder pat as well.

(Ezra looks disappointed that Kanan didn’t say anything to compliment him, maybe Sabine thought to cheer him up?)

Ugh, Trayvis’s slimy, “Well of course I never advocated for violence, those Rebels are twisting my message!”

The Holonet does not have Twitter Community Notes alas.

“Readers added context they thought people might want to know: You’re a lying traitorous dick and you suck.”

And the plan to take control of the Imperial communications tower is hatched.

Watching the microexpressions on Ezra’s face this whole scene is a trip, because you can tell he has misgivings but also agrees that the best way to reach the people is to break through the state-controlled media propaganda machine and offer up the truth.

OH BOY IT’S THE TRAUMATIZING SCENE!

Comedic staples Aresko and Grint, who have been with us on the show from the beginning, are brought in for their own dressing down before being summarily and literally beheaded in the office.

Yeah no, the first time I watched this I was like, “OKAY WELL THAT JUST HAPPENED HOLY SHIT.“

Ngl, Grand just casually walking around the desk to go stand behind them is even worse after you know what’s coming.

“Your Rebel cell is more principled than others.”  Lol is that a dig at Saw and the Partisans?

No but hold me back from getting into my messy Rebellion Era Jedi feelings and wordspewing about how even with all the Empire’s propaganda, even with all the effort and energy they expend smearing them and erasing their legacy, they still represent Hope to the ordinary people and inspire them to stand up and fight.  And how that’s so so dangerous to the careful order and control Palpatine set up and so he can’t allow any of them to survive because their mere existence makes people stare in awe and take up their arms.

*sobbing forever*

Kallus and Tua’s slow dawning horror as they realize what’s about to happen. D:

HELLO NAUGHTY CHILDREN, THIS IMAGE IS NOW BURNED INTO YOUR NIGHTMARES.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

See, even these two are unnerved.  It takes Kallus a full second to blink himself back into composure when Tarkin addresses him.

This cue here in the aggressive low brass is part of the Inquisitor’s theme and gets used later in the big Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother introduction I’m pretty sure.

I always love the way Rebels does background sky, it looks almost like watercolor paintings.

“I said be optimistic.”

“Five minutes is optimistic!”

<3

They bring a bit of the fyrnock cue back here, I think to put us just a little bit on edge.

(Also apropos given what Ezra does moments later.)

Sabine being pouty all, “I could have done that.“

Please appreciate how Ezra beams at Kanan’s praise and Sabine get embarrassed at how heartwarming they are.

Too bad the probe wasn’t 100% dead.

LOLOL Kallus seems a little on edge as he leaves Tarkin’s office here.

“Lure them into a trap?  But... but I literally just tried that last episode!”

The plan is further hatched but Ezra gets solemn when Sabine brings up that things never seem to follow the plan and Kanan, sensing something up, doesn’t take Ezra’s deflection for an answer.

 Oof and watch how Ezra’s arms come up in his self-protective pose right there.

At first, Kanan thinks it’s just insecurity about taking on the role and by implication the legacy of his parents, nervousness about speaking.  And yes, Ezra confesses that that’s part of it.  (Once again with the self-esteem issues, “I’m not brave, I’m not special, I can’t do this without the rest of you.”)

But it runs deeper.  Ezra’s afraid of loss, of having something bad happen to his new family like it happened to his parents.  But for a Jedi, fear of loss, fear of potential loss, can cripple you.  Paralyze you from being able to think and take proper action.

So Kanan reminds Ezra that loss is going to happen to matter what.  You can’t cling to the things you have, you have to let them pass away, if that’s what’s going to happen.  You can’t be attached.  You have to let go.

“We will take more losses before this is over.”  “When the times comes, we’re going to have to be ready to sacrifice for something bigger.”

Don’t think about Season Four don’t think about Season Four don’t think about Season Four--

The Force theme plays out sweetly in the background as Kanan talks about how they’re “learning these things together”, ending on a modified major chord to leave on a brighter note resolution.

And this is such a pretty shot.

And this one too.  And this might be the first time we see Lothal’s twin moons?

This is such a smooth action sequence, the way Sabine hops off her bike and lets it Tokyo drift into the cannon to blow it up before rolling into view and popping off shots, the conservation of camera movement as it cuts to Zeb, quick inserts and then Ezra and Kanan are on site.

Hate to keep repeating myself but seriously, look at that cloud painting work.

The Imperial March, naturally, as the Empire’s vehicles close in.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Ezra’s eyes dart from target to aerial target.

The camerawork this episode is really excellent, love this dolly in shot of Grand.

Nnnfhkhg Ezra flinched a bit when Kanan got in his face and ordered him to get Zeb.

Cripes, I think Kanan is already thinking ahead to what he’s going to have to do.

“But I like this gun!”  “We’ll get you another gun!”  Children, both of you.  Lol.

AND THE FIRST OFFICIAL TIME THOSE ETERNALLY CURSED WORDS, “I’LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU.” ARE UTTERED.

Seriously, it became an awful kind of running joke.

Right, so in spite of Kanan’s reassurances, said to get Ezra to keep going and not stall, Ezra still lingers long enough to watch Kanan shut the door behind them.

NO THAT’S FINE.  A HEART IS OVERRATED ANYWAY.

Grand drops down accompanied by his bass chorals and Kanan turns his saber on the door controls and about right here is when I think we all knew he wasn’t going to be right behind Ezra at all.

Again with the camerawork, this tilting pan up towards the top of the tower and then tracking dolly zoom in as the others spill out onto the balcony.

Nooooooooo bbyyyyyyyyyy. :((((((((

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The way Zeb shields Sabine right here.

Kanan’s matching the Inquisitor strike for strike now, and even repays the kick in the chest from “Gathering Forces”.  He’s calm, almost zen, having accepted what he has to do, and his cavalier attitude throws Grand, stalling for enough time to let Hera get there.

The “Shenanigans“ theme rolls in on somber trombones, stalling out after only the opening notes.

:((((((((

Capping this scene is an exercise in, “Whose expression looks more devastated?”

Hera’s tight-lipped tremble as she makes the call is especially hard.

My gosh look at the smoke effects though.

This episode really has no business being this pretty.

I hate you Tarkin, I hate you I hate you I wanna punch you in your stupid sneering face.

Kanan looks astonished to hear the others are still proceeding with the plan and making the transmission.  I guess he thought they might write the mission off as a loss what with his capture.

Aaaaaah Ezra I’m so proud of him!

This really is an excellent speech.

The woodwinds plink away in the background of some muted brass here, even the Main Titles theme (Luke’s theme, used to denote heroism in the Star Wars score) is quiet, fading out before a slow dooming Imperial March takes over.

“Ho shit, they’re firing on their own tower?”

Well uh... we already knew that Tarkin doesn’t believe in overkill.

<3

The show makes use of some very effective silence, only the faint static of the transmitter playing over the closing stinger.  Just to drive that last devastating blow in.

And cue cliffhanger.

Ha ha, another one I don’t rewatch that often, at least not without completing it out with the next two because seriously, that is a cruel cliffhanger.

Rebels does not really believe in a static Status Quo, which I appreciate.  Even in Season One it throws wrenches, shakes things up, unmoors our characters.  And by extension us the audience. XD

Even for those of us who believed in the show from the beginning I don’t think anyone expected it to axe our two staple recurring side antagonists and end an episode with Kanan captured.

So kudos to Rebels for taking that risk.  It has more freedom to do so, granted, than a show like TCW or Kenobi, given that it’s mostly original characters not protected by Plot Armor, but still.

Next episode takes us two steps forward and one great big Mustafar step back, I can’t wait!

[oh-obrien]

Red Line (Prologue)

Anakin Skywalker

A/N: This is my fuck it we ball moment diving head first into the Star Wars fandom. I fully concede I am new to the fandom and DO NOT know everything. But I do know that I am really good at writing fanfic that a) Diverges from canon b) adds a little bit of a ‘modern’ twist on to some (most) stuff. 

This is gonna be a lil seriesssss and I am very excited. Prologue is a little short but future parts will be longer! Constructive criticism is welcome, but like I said I do know I diverge from canon here quite a bit. There will eventually be canon typical violence but not quite yet. 

Buckle your seatbelts for Angst, Spice and Fluff. 

Word Count: 1,942

“No one said it was bring your street rat to work day,” Lyra’s right eye twitched at the sound of the all too familiar voice behind her as she neared the High Council Chamber, “and who said you could have a pet anyways? Can’t complain about me being the only one to get special treatment now.” She took a moment to take in a deep breath before acknowledging the boy behind her. She hadn’t seen him in nearly two months now as their missions had taken them separate ways, but he still clearly remembered how to get under her skin from the get go. Biggs sat down quietly at Lyra’s feet, watching the individual his master had yet to acknowledge carefully. 

“I forgot I’m not the only non-Council member they let into these meetings as of this session’s beginning.” Lyra finally turned around and saw Anakin Skywalker striding down the hallway, making his way towards the same place she’d be going. She hated to admit that Anakin had finally won the council over with his skills, allegedly. They had agreed that the Padawan was ready to begin understanding what being one of the most powerful Jedi meant. For the past two sessions Lyra had felt special, she was the only Padawan to be taken into council meetings, to truly begin her journey to becoming a Jedi-Knight and diplomat. Now though, now Anakin would be there also, he was naturally seen to be more gifted than her and she felt threatened by the boy standing in front of her. He’d once again be breathing down her neck like he had been since his arrival. 

Anakin knelt down in front of Biggs and offered the Tooka cat his left index finger. Biggs’ large ears flattened as he sniffed the boy’s finger, hissing not long after before slinking away to curl around Lyra’s feet. “Oh how kind he is, I don’t understand why-” but Anakin didn’t get to finish his thought before Biggs unwound himself from his Master’s feet and began to bound down the hallway, clearly having seen someone he was rather fond of. 

“Oh if it isn’t my favorite Padawan!” Obi-Wan’s voice filled the hallway, Biggs scampering around the Jedi Master’s feet as he bent down to pet the creature. “Ahh yes,” Obi-Wan straightened, “and you managed to drag in Anakin and Lyra as well. Wonderful! I was hoping someone would make sure they arrived on time” Obi-Wan picked up Biggs and strode past Anakin and Lyra, not acknowledging the two Padawans who were still awkwardly looking at one another in the hallway. Anakin had his hands clasped in front of him and nodded at his master as he passed, Lyra nodding at the Master Kenobi as well. 

“Well,” Mace Windu followed not far behind Obi-Wan, “I don’t care if Obi-Wan’s Padawan is the last to arrive at the first council meeting of the new session, but I refuse to have you fall to the same fate.” He gave Lyra a stern nod before walking into the High Council Chamber. Lyra rolled her eyes, which she heard Anakin snicker at, before the pair of Padawans followed their Masters into the High Council Chambers. 

While Obi-Wan took his time to become a friend to Anakin, learning to understand his Padawan past his Jedi training, Master Windu simply seemed to regard Lyra as his student. Nothing more and nothing less. Lyra had learned plenty from Master Windu, and it had allowed her to earn quite the reputation, but she sometimes longed for the relationship Anakin and Obi-Wan seemed to have, she didn’t resent the pair, she just wished she could experience the same connection with her Master.

Twelve chairs sat in the High Council room and Lyra heard Anakin let out a snicker in realization when he too had only counted twelve chairs, and while only seven currently had individuals sitting in them, both Lyra and Anakin knew that none of the dozen chairs were meant for them. Lyra had gotten used to standing for the duration of the meetings, but Anakin clearly took some offense to the fact that he’d be expected to stand the entire meeting. He was still a Padawan, not even a Knight yet; why would he expect any special treatment? 

Lyra stepped further into the room and took her place next to Mace’s chair where she knew she was expected to stand for the duration of the meeting. Anakin, who had not been invited to the High Council’s meetings until this term, however, looked rather confused and stood awkwardly at the front of the room. Obi-Wan lifted his left hand from Biggs’ head momentarily to motion towards Lyra, Anakin’s eyes flickering to the girl briefly before he took his place at Obi-Wan’s side the same way Lyra stood next to her own Master. 

“Been a long time since I have seen you it has, Lyra.” Lyra looked next to her where Master Yoda sat, his small frame practically engulfed by his chair. “Doing well I hope you are.” Prior to the break the more advanced Padawan’s were given, Lyra had been sent on a nearly two month long mission to Kessel to investigate a Spice ring operating out of the planet. She had posed as the well-off daughter of a diplomatic family looking to invest her money into something more profitable than typical government affairs and get into something more exciting than being the daughter of a diplomat. It had been a grueling two months and she would be expected to return to Kessel again at some point, but the intel she had managed to gain had proved to be valuable to the Council and Senate thus far.

“Yes Master Yoda, I’m doing quite well. I’m rather glad to be back, although it was nice to get some time off with the other Padawans.” Lyra heard Obi-Wan let out a thoughtful hum from two chairs over. Throughout recent years the High Council had begun letting older Padawans take some well deserved time off. Lyra also theorized it was to give the Masters a break from their Padawans as well, and while certain worldly things were still not encouraged, taking short breaks was something now seen to help some Padawans connect even more with the Force on their own time. Time to rest, rejuvenate and create a stronger bond with the force had been how the short break had been described to the group of Padawans that had earned the time away from the temple. Although the trip wasn’t necessarily used for its intended purpose, and most of the Council likely knew that, it continued to prove to be successful for the Padawans and Masters to take a short time away from each other.

“Ahh yes you went to the beaches of Naboo with some of the other Padawans if I’m correct?” Obi-Wan spoke up. Lyra forgot how normal most conversations felt prior to High Council meetings occurring. Although there were some formalities, like her need to stand next to her Master and the ability to speak only if addressed during the meetings, prior to their start it often felt like catching up with old friends. 

Lyra uncrossed her arms and pulled out a holoprojector from her robes. “Yes it was fantastic!” An image pulled up on Lyra’s projector of her and Astrid, one of the Padawans she has formed a rather close friendship with, at a beach. Lyra had on a blue metallic wrap bikini and held her purple, double bladed lightsaber in her left hand, both blades ignited and locked with Astrid’s green saber. “Don’t look at that! I didn’t even bring my lightsaber with me.” Ki-Adi-Mundi let out a small laugh as Lyra quickly tried to get the image to switch but it just turned to an image of her slicing some type of tropical fruit in half with one of her blades. She felt her face flush as the council members nearby began to laugh. 

“You’re nearly a Jedi Knight, Lyra.” Mace spoke up, “you're trusted to take your lightsaber where you please. Besides we all did questionable things in our younger years, much of it just wasn’t documented in the same way.” 

Lyra’s projector switched to an image of her and Biggs in the water of Naboo, the Tooka Cat sitting on her head while a silver scalloped bikini hugged her body and a pair of rather stylish sunglasses sat on the bridge of her nose. What Lyra didn’t see though, while she was flicking through the images, was the way Anakin’s eyes widened seeing so much of her skin uncovered. Little was left to his imagination and he cleared his throat, turning to see who else had arrived to the meeting thus far.

While Lyra had begun her training at the academy at the age of four, Anakin, who was two years her elder, didn’t arrive until he was nine. And in the nine years the two had trained together, neither had seen the other in anything less than their robes. Until now that was, and Anakin couldn’t quite place the feeling that began to swim low in his stomach at the sight of Lyra in such little clothing. The metallic material made her blue eyes shine more than usual and she was incredibly well muscled while still having curves in just the right places . 

“The break, I hope you enjoyed. Working again, you must begin.” Master Yoda spoke once Lyra tucked away her holoprojector.

“Of course Master Yoda,” Lyra nodded her head once, “I’m glad to be back to training; too much of a break isn’t good for me.” She nodded in toward master Yoda before turning to Anakin. “Did you do anything with the time off you were given, Anakin?” The boy seemed to feel very awkward in the space and Lyra noticed his face growing slightly redder, and while they had their differences at times Lyra still wanted Anakin to feel welcome in the new space.

Hearing his name caused Anakin to dial back into the conversation taking place in front of him and he stammered for a moment before formulating his response. “Obi-Wan and myself traveled to Alderaan for a meeting with the royal family.” Anakin’s posture relaxed more as he spoke. No longer standing stiffly with his feet shoulder width apart next to Obi-Wan. “It was a rather nice visit, although it doesn’t seem as leisurely as yours, Lyra.” 

Lyra felt her lip twitch and she motionlessly raised a small round fruit from the table in the center of the room and flicked it at Anakin’s head. The sphere making contact with the center of his forehead before falling on the floor. Anakin knew that she had been on a mission for two months prior to being given her break, a mission during which she was cut off from everyone and everything she knew. 

Anakin’s hand twitched and Lyra saw another fruit begin to rise from the bowl moments before Obi-Wan lifted his hand and directed it to his palm, handing it promptly to Biggs who still sat curled on his lap. “Must Mace and I have you two spar like when you were younglings to level your differences?” Biggs chewed loudly on the fruit but glanced between Obi-Wan and Anakin, as if he knew what was occurring in front of him.

“No Master.” 

“No Master Obi-Wan.”

“Very well,” Obi-Wan directed his attention away from Anakin and Lyra and to the other Jedi Masters who had just begun the meeting and Lyra knew that again bumping shoulders with Anakin every day would soon drive her to her breaking point.

[iidigestive-readerii]

The Good Jedi: Part Four

Satine: Two transmissions came in to the Mandalorian embassy. Call the Council and whoever necessary. They’ll want to see this.

There were many things Mace enjoyed about being Master of the Order, but being at the beck and call of Republic politicians was not one of them. Except this politician was technically not even a part of the Republic. Or should be alive for that matter.

But he called a meeting for two hours later, staying in one of the seats and reviewing flimsiwork from the last campaign that had been completed by his system army. It was a tedious task, and he was relieved when the members started to file in. 

Quiet chatter started to fill the room, familiar voices overlapping each other. Mace glanced at the time and rose, beginning to stack his materials. He gave a nod when he saw Obi-Wan and Duchess Satine walk in, about to say something when he froze.

The room quieted, everyone staring at the addition. 

“Evening Mace.”

“...Ahsoka.” Mace bowed his head quickly, feeling red hot shame creep up his neck. He thanked the Force that Anakin hadn’t shown up yet. “Dare I ask?”

Satine sighed, walking to the projector table while she spoke, ignoring the surprised faces. “If we’re going to war - and the odds of that occurring are high,” she sighed while putting the chips into the projector. “I need an aide-de-camp, and it doesn’t make sense to have a Jedi General as one if he has a larger war to fight.”

“And a Jedi padawan is somehow better?” Mace asked with the raise of his brow, aware of the scowls shot his way. “Former padawan.”

“I don’t know about you, but having the Jedi that - “

“‘Snips?!” Anakin stood at the entryway, frozen, the light of the hallway on his back. Padme and Aayla were behind him, both of them staring at young woman. It was not a situation anyone anticipated a week ago, but here they were. Looking between everyone, Anakin frowned and stepped down a few. “What - Obi-Wan - what - “

Rolling her eyes, Aayla pushed her friends away and hopped down the steps. She wasted no time, gathering Ahsoka in her arms. The younger woman melted in a way that she hadn’t yet, tears falling down her cheeks. 

Mace watched the scene, the two woman whispering, the quick glare shot at the Chosen One, the reunion taking place. Though he’d been hesitant once upon a time about allowing Aayla into the Order at the ripe age of six years old, and then being the padawan of Quinlan Vos… but in his opinion, Aayla was everything that Anakin wasn’t. Powerful in all the ways her friend wasn’t, holding all the ideals of the Jedi code close and so good at negotiation without sacrificing her virtues. She was good at all of it while maintaining so many loving relationships - platonic, romantic… everything. 

If he had his way, Aayla would be the next Master of the Order. He desperately hoped so.

Yoda cleared his throat, the attention of the room shifting to him. He forced a smile. “Heartwarming this reunion is, but move forward, we need too. Duchess?”

“...right.” Satine sighed heavily, her finger hovering over the play button. “The Mandalorian embassy received two transmissions this morning. One from my sister Bo-Katan, to the system… and one from Death Watch.”

Bo-Katan shimmered into existence, covered in armor, on a podium, surrounded by her people, somewhere in the mines on one of the moons and planets of Mandalore. Exhausted, fiery…

“Mandalorians! I stand before you not as Death Watch… but as your princess. As my sister’s advocate…and I know you all don’t care for me… but we love our Duchess - you love our Duchess - and they have our prince… and that is unacceptable!” 

“They’re fine if you’re captured but they draw the line at Korkie?” Anakin muttered while the Mandalorians cheered and hollered. 

“We love our children,” Satine whispered. She didn’t resist as Obi-Wan tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. The gesture was so intimate, so…

…oh. 

“He’s your son.” Mace wasn’t surprised as they both nodded, and turned back to the Holo. 

“We are Mandalorians! We do not cower when outsiders mess with us! And Pre has messed with the wrong clan! We have tasted peace - and no more fighting!” There was more cheering, and Bo shouting in victory alongside everyone.

She froze, the video stopping. 

Had he known what would have occurred that morning, Mace would have stayed in bed. He had a headache already, watching the video play in the classroom turned war room and and rubbing at his temples. 

“...not good, this is.” Yoda leaned heavily against cane, shaking his head. 

“It gets worse,” Satine muttered as the first Holo shimmered away and the second appeared. It was Maul and Visla… and Korkie in the background, bound on the steps of the throne. Beaten, bruised, staring levelly into the camera. A small smile on his face like he had a plan up his sleeve.

“Goddesses…” Padme whispered. 

Pre smiled at the camera, looking at his partner briefly. 

Maul stepped back, igniting the Dark Saber and putting it by Korkie’s neck. 

“The Dark Saber? That’s been lost for centuries…” Mace whispered.

“...Duchess. I’m sure this needs no discussion.” Pre smiled. “I have something you want. One hundred million - “

“Surely I’m worth more than that.” Korkie scoffed, barely reacting as Maul turned the saber around and jabbed the hilt into his temple. He went sprawling, fingers loosening and moving as he struggled to regain his balance.

“One hundred million credits Duchess - your bastard for the throne… and your life.”

Maul stepped forward, stabbing the saber through Korkie’s leg and smiling at the hisses of pain. He twisted the blade around before removing it, pointing it again at Korkie. “Tick tock Kenobi… my patience is wearing thin.” 

*

I'm thrilled to have this chapter finally written! it took forever to drag out of my brain, lol. I'll add the Ao3 and Tumblr chapter links some other time - enjoy! Let me know what you think!

[monako-jinn-stories]

Meeting the Prodigal Daughter

Count Dooku meeting y/n Jinn for the first time

Angst? Fluff? Idk just kinda a blurb

Master List

Oh? What is this? Jinn posting a fic? Who is she? What is this?

~~~

Dooku straightens his robes as he stands, brushing out the wrinkles so that he looks presentable. His hands subconsciously drift to his saber hilts, double checking that they are safely secured and hidden at his hips. He glances out the viewport, taking in the planet outside his shuttle. 

Dohbar is a place Dooku has only ever heard of, he’s never seen its beauty for himself. Ever since he’d heard about it years ago, he’s always longed to have a reason to make the journey over. Unfortunately, his duties with the Jedi Order never allowed him the chance. But now, Darth Sideous has asked him to make a diplomatic mission to the mysterious and unaligned planet and convince the rulers to join the Separatists. 

The planet holds many secrets, including the one his former Padawan safely kept here. Qui-Gon had not even trusted his former master with knowing anything of his child, only that they exist. No name, no family, only that they had been raised here on Dohbar. But Dooku is not here to find this child, he is here to try and win over a new member of the Separatist Alliance.

He waves a hand, pushing the button for the ramp to lower. A chill runs through his core as he takes a step towards the outside. Glancing over his shoulder, a quiet comment escapes from him.

“If that is you, Qui-Gon, know that I am very sorry for who I’ve become. I am not here to hunt your child, I am here on peaceful terms.” The chill leaves, and he shudders as warmth refills his core. Taking a steadying breath, he again begins his descent.

The empty hangar around him spurs curiosity within Dooku. Slight offense briefly runs through him as well. Surely a diplomat deserves a security detail when at an unknown location. 

“Perhaps they’ve grown too comfortable with their lack of infiltration,” Dooku mumbles. A door suddenly swings open, and a young man and young Twi’lek woman walk into the hangar.

“Our apologies, Count Dooku,” the woman says, “we meant to already be here when you arrived.”

“That is quite alright, miss…?”

“Caree. Senator Ahnimaka Caree,” she replies. “And this is my husband, King Kwol Barren.”

“Senator…” Dooku repeats, keeping the sour tone from reaching his words. So Dohbar has already sided with the Republic. Perhaps he can change that. “And King Barren. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Our Queen should be here soon,” Kwol says, “she’s recently been at Coruscant. But please, let’s head somewhere more proper.” Dooku nods and walks through the door behind Ahni, Kwol after him. 

“So, Count Dooku, I’m not entirely sure of what you have come here to discuss today,” Ahni says, pouring a cup of tea and handing it to Dooku. He takes it and nods, sipping briefly before responding.

“I am here to discuss where Dohbar’s loyalties are going to lie in the war between the Galactic Republic and the Separatist Alliance. Specifically, I am here to present you an offer of a position within the Separatist Alliance.”

“Ah, well, with my being a senator, I am not sure I should be a part of this conversation, as my bias will certainly lead me to want to side with the Republic. You can understand, I’m sure.”

“Yes, of course, Senator Caree. If you would feel more comfortable, I can talk with the king and queen without you present.”

“Yes, I think that would be the better option,” Ahni says, rising from her seat. “I will make sure that when she arrives, the queen will come straight here.”

“Thank you, Ahni,” Kwol says, a smile on his lips as her hand briefly touches his cheek before she leaves. “Shall we get started, then?”

“I would prefer to wait until all parties are present,” Dooku responds, setting his cup down on the table. 

“Uh, well, I don’t want to keep you waiting for too long,” Kwol says, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “You see, with Queen Monako, you never really know when she’ll get here.”

“That is alright, King Barren. I have no other tasks planned for the day, I do not mind waiting.”

“If you say so. Is there anything you would like to discuss? Perhaps something you were curious about?”

“Yes, actually. Your planet is a mystery to many of those outside of it. Not much is known about it, other than the tragedy that befell the royal family years ago when the rumored sith attacked.”

“It isn’t just a rumored sith, it is a real one.”

Dooku turned to look at the new voice, and in the doorway stood a woman he’d never seen or heard of before, but instantly knew who she was. This isn’t just Queen Monako. There’s more to her than royalty.

“King and Queen Monako were killed by a sith lord. I saw his red saber with my own eyes. I was trapped on a balcony, forced to watch them slain before my eyes. When I finally was able to go to them, there was nothing left to do other than prepare the funeral and ascend to the throne.”

“Queen Monako,” Dooku says quietly, “it is an honor to finally meet you.”

“Count Dooku, I presume,” you say, moving over to your seat. There is something strange about Dooku, a familiar yet dangerous sense creeps from him to you through the force.

“Well, since we are all here, finally,” Kwol says, throwing you a side eye, “shall we get started with our meeting?”

“Of course,” Dooku replies, sitting up a bit straighter. “I am here on behalf of the Confederacy of Independent Systems-”

“You mean the Separatist Alliance?” you interrupt, raising a brow in question.

“Some call it that, yes, but it gives a negative air to our cause.”

“You mean disunion and anarchy?”

“Far from it, actually. The systems within CIS only want equal and fair representation, and to be heard. Most of them were abandoned by the Republic, only to pay heavy taxes and have none of their needs met.”

You stare at Dooku in silence, because you know he isn’t entirely wrong. The Republic isn’t fair, and doesn’t treat all of its members equally or justly. But the CIS is just another form of government and treaty that will eventually be revealed as corrupt.

“I come today with an offer,” Dooku proceeds, cutting to the chase. Something inside him is telling him that this is a fight he won’t win. “Join the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and we will protect you from the corruption of the Republic, high taxes, and unfair treatment.”

“Dohbar is historically an independent system. We have never, and will never, align with an outside government to rule over us.” 

“You have my words mistaken, Queen Monako. The CIS does not intend to rule over its members-”

“But it wishes to have them in an alliance that is secretly in control of them. It is actually very clear in the agreement and treaty documents, but only if you know what to look for. The wording is tricky, but it’s intended to hide the true meaning. I may not be a very well known diplomat, but ever since I could walk I was sitting in on political meetings, and since I could form coherent sentences, I was trained and taught how to speak in tricks and read them out of any document.” When you finish speaking, you see something flicker in Dooku’s eyes. It almost resembled pride, and internally you wonder what could he possibly be proud of. “I’m sorry, Count Dooku, but if your only point to discuss with us was to join the CIS, our answer is no. If Dohbar is forced to align with a power, we will align with the Republic.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, I was hoping we could get more acquainted with each other.”

“You’re welcome to stay and chat, but this meeting is over, as I have given our answer.”

“And do you agree with this answer, King Barren?”

“Yes. It is the tradition of Dohbar’s independence that has kept us from major conflict and war. As both the King and the Commanding General of the Dohbarian military, I agree with Queen Monako that it is in our best interests to remain unaligned, and if ever forced, to align with the Republic.”

“Very well then,” Dooku says. 

“If you stay around, Ahni makes amazing dinners. I’m sure she’d be happy to make something for you.”

“That sounds lovely, thank you, King Barren.”

“Please, call me Kwol.” 

Dooku nods, a small smile coming to his lips. He glances over at you. It fades, however, as he notices your strange expression. It looks as though you’re trying to figure him out. Perhaps you feel the flow of the force moving through him as he feels it move through you. And perhaps you sense the similar dark force that flowed through the sith who killed the King and Queen flowing through himself. But before any more analysis of your expression can be done, you get up and exit the room without a word.

“She is quite the mystery,” Dooku comments, and Kwol lets out a laugh.

“Yeah, she’s pretty secretive with strangers. She also doesn’t really trust politicians.”

“And how does she feel about you and your wife?”

“Well, I’m a royal, not a politician. And she grew up with us both. We’re all best friends, really, so she trusts us fully.”

“A privilege it must be.”

“In a way, I guess,” Kwol says before standing, “if you’d like, I can show you around the palace. I have nothing more on my schedule today.”

“That would be lovely,” Dooku replies, standing from his seat as well. Kwol smiles and leads him from the room, beginning his tour of the palace.

~~~

Something about the Count feels highly off to you. The way he had looked at you had sent a shiver down your spine. It’s almost as if he knows who you really are, and had figured it out after only seeing you for a second. You can sense the darkness in him as well, and it has you feeling unsettled. But there’s also a strange familiarity about him, something reminiscent of what you had felt when you’d met Qui-Gon.

After you leave the meeting room, you head out to the palace grounds. Sitting under your meditative tree, you try to clear your head of all your mixed feelings. You and the men of the 17th battalion have been on near constant missions with your newly assigned position in the war. You hadn’t anticipated it to be so tiring, but perhaps it was clouding your judgment and how you perceive others through the force. 

“I must admit, your presence was a surprise to me when I felt it.” The words float to you, through the small passage you had left open in your mind for Dooku. “And then when I saw your face…it was as though I was looking into his eyes again.”

“Former Jedi Master Dooku, the mentor of my father, Qui-Gon.”

“Yes, and you are his secret child, y/n Jinn.”

“You knew of me?”

“Only of you, and what planet you were born on. I never knew who you were, or what you looked like. I often desired to come here and search for you, and that desire only grew when Qui-Gon was slain.”

“By another dark-force user, like you.” You open your eyes then, and watch as Dooku opens his, but they remain lowered at his hands.

“Qui-Gon’s death is what truly pushed me to the dark side. Had he survived, had I known what my involvement would lead to…” He takes a breath, moving his eyes up to meet yours. “Had I known you, perhaps things would be different.”

“I can’t save you, Dooku,” you reply, “and I can’t be the one thing that holds you to the light. Because in the end, that attachment will only keep you in the dark.”

“A wise girl, I see. And I sense you are a very strong Jedi.”

“I am. I trained most of my life with Codo Daawa, and then when the war began, I moved to Coruscant, where I am the general of the 17th clone battalion.”

“Tell me, y/n,” Dooku says, “would it be possible for us to be acquaintances, or possibly friends? I am sure there is much you would like to know about your fathers youth and training.”

You see the small bit of hope swirling in his gaze. You see a man who lost someone who was like a child to him, someone he felt love for. A man lost to his emotions and ambitions. But war surrounds the both of you, and you’re on opposite sides of the battlefield.

“There is much I would love to know and hear about my dad,” you begin, and you see the brief flash of delight fade away to realization, “but I cannot accept your offer, Dooku. I am a Jedi Knight, I have a duty to the Order and to the Republic. I cannot risk my position or the safety of those that I fight with for a friendship with you. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Dooku replies, and you watch as he stands. He holds his hand out to you, and you take it gently. He pulls you to your feet, and bows to you. “It would have been an honor to hold a position in your life.”

“In another life, you will.” 

Dooku straightens up, and you hold eye contact for a second before he reaches into his cloak. You wait and watch as he holds a closed fist out towards you.

“I visited your mother, your birth mother, after Qui-Gon’s death. I retrieved this from her. She asked me to promise that I would give it to you someday, as a way to keep a piece of your father with you, always. I have kept it with me since, waiting until I could hand it off to you.” When Dooku opens his hand, a single braid falls into your waiting palm. The hair is intricately weaved together, with a bead at each end. It reminds you of how you’d had your Padawan braid, except yours had had two beads at each end instead of just one. 

“Thank you, Count Dooku,” you reply. 

“Of course, young Jinn.”

You look up and smile at him softly, the most emotion you’ve allowed him to receive from you since meeting. Something in your chest tells you that the next time you meet, it will be on the battlefield, and it won’t be pretty. You can feel the darkness in him, the hatred. But it isn’t towards you, it’s towards the galaxy, the war. The evil that surrounds everyone. As he walks away, you feel inside that you understand him more than anyone else. He wants a pure galaxy for everyone to live in harmony, but he has no idea how to achieve it.

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[madamealys]

Imagine you and Obi-Wan become friends with benefits (+21)

II

***

It takes two weeks before it happens again. As much as you and Obi-Wan have enjoyed that unpretentious tea party—that turned out to be a good massage evening, to put in words—, you know that no romantic attachment should be formed.

As both of you are Jedi Masters with each path to trail, you have to make better use of the energy that you discovered recently… the very cause of your inner troubles and that if you thought it would dissipate, you thought it wrong.

So you try to forget that evening and start to practice again, getting more missions in order to get yourself occupied.

In the meantime, so does Obi-Wan. The redhaired male focuses in his mission with Anakin and Ahsoka, specially concerning now Ventress’s whereabouts.

Nevertheless, when he comes to fall asleep, he thinks of you. The taste of your tongue, so well paired with his; the way you sang his name, whose melody still echoes in his mind… how soaked your womanhood was when his fingers pursuit it.

He also had a peek of your firm breasts and pinky nipples. But he never had really a full view of you. The thought leaves him aroused and would have distracted him… had he allowed to.

But then when he lands back at Coruscant and sees you smiling wide and surrounded by good friends, his heart skips a beat. In the way only one other woman could do.

And to remember her name aches his broken heart.

***

You are dressed elegantly in orange robes with white stripes, hair loose in curls behind your back, when you meet him.

Obi-Wan is dressed in white robes and his hair is shorter than last time you met. He comes discreetly at you, ignoring the awkwardness that has altered the dynamics of your friendship since that day.

“May I have a word with you, Y/N?”

Today is a holiday celebrated in Coruscant, related to an important victory many moons ago by the Jedis against the Sith that the common folk still like to remember. Therefore, the Jedi temple is empty.

You’d go with your friends outdoors, but turn back as Obi-Wan calls you. You greet Anakin and Ahsoka politely, ignoring the mischievous look they exchange.

“Can we speak in privacy?”, he asks you gently, leading you to the gardens inside.

“Why, yes. I haven’t seen you lately.” And here you decide to break the ice. “If this is about last weekend, I should apologize for my improper behavior.”

“No, not at all.” He pauses towards the end of the poorly illuminated corridors. “I should apologize instead. I actually… want more of it. More of… us.”

You blush, not sure how to respond him, but at the same time comprehending the subtle meaning of it.

“We should not best interrupt our encounters”, you put him closer to you.

“No”, Obi-Wan half smiles at you. “We should not…”

Discouraged to break the moment even when reason riots against it, the Jedi presses you against the wall. Eyes locked and smiles exchanged, his hands go up and down your back.

“It looks like you are the one tensed here, darling”, you smirk as you kiss his lips gently, hands going to his pants and there finding his manhood erect. “Let me tend you today.”

He is about to protest, but the moment your tongue snakes in his mouth as your hand eagerly begins to explore his cock.

“Y/N”, he groans under his breath, kissing you fervently.

And his hands are about to move from your neck below when you part the kiss and slide to your knees. There is little need to protest: it never reaches Obi-Wan’s tongue after you engulf his manhood with your mouth.

The older Jedi watches you with lustful eyes, caressing your hair as he once again only has a partial view of your curves, but he has no time to get frustrated as you prove so natural in the arts of pleasure.

“Careful, darling…”

He asks you softly, pumping it into your red lips gently, guiding you through the Force. You raise your eyes as you lick it with your tongue, twirling it as you experiment it with great pleasure.

“Oh. So you enjoy this, uh?” Obi-Wan moans softly, and the sound he makes is enough to let you dripping wet in between your legs. “Mmm! So good, so good dear one.”

Aware of how he effects you, Obi-Wan imagines what he is about to do with you—-but then he comes to reach his climax and, oh, you swallow all of it.

There is, however, little time to enjoy further as you both hear steps and quickly must set yourselves straight. You barely have time to exchange words as Anakin finally shows up:

“Ah there you two are! Where have you guys been?”

Obi-Wan clears his throat, but says:

“I was… teaching some new techniques to Y/N. She had some questions about it.”

“Oh”, Anakin speaks innocently. “What bad timing, eh?”

You try not to laugh about it, but as Anakin starts to walk on, Obi-Wan gently pulls you to his side and says:

“I must admit that although this is not very acceptable, I cannot pretend we have not ruined our friendship, my dear.”

“I don’t know where this will take us…”, you hesitate.

But then he laces his fingers with yours.

“But I intend to follow the path with you.”

You smile the brightest and here it is the spark of something new that comes. Obi-Wan has his own fears about the future, but this is not to be thought yet.

[thechaoticfanartist]

15 OC Questions!

Thanks for the tag @ninjasawakenedmystar !

Tagging @jgvfhl @bluejay-in-write @arrthurpendragon and anyone else who wants to do this!

Rules: answer the questions as either your OC or yourself!

I'm answering these as Grim Kennet during TCWGANV (Around the end of The Clone Wars. So in 19 BBY)

1. Are you named after anyone?

No. I don't know why my name was chosen. Grim is quite a strange name for somebody. But I guess it fits my life since I've been thrown into The Clone Wars.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Um. Probably not that long ago. There's a lot that happens now, and I'm at the final year of the war. I have no idea when Revenge Of The Sith will begin. I just know that'll happen soon.

3. Do you have any kids?

Absolutely not. I'm a kid still! Even if I don't feel like it sometimes with everything I've been through.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Yes. A lot. It's an important part of my sass arsenal.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Oh that's what they look like in real life!" If there was no live action version of them. For example: Ahsoka. Also I noticed she was very pretty. Uh- I said nothing about that.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I enjoy both. But right now I find happy endings better. It's comforting to see them. Especially when I'm becoming less and less hopeful that this story will have one.

9. Where were you born?

Earth! Which doesn't exist. Help me I'm literally the only human from Earth in this entire universe. And it turns out there are differences. Which causes problems sometimes.

10. What are your hobbies?

Drawing! I love drawing things from my old universe. It lets me keep a part of the life I lost with me.

11. Do you have any pets?

No unfortunately. I would love one, but I'm not sure if they're allowed in the Jedi Temple. Although I have tried to adopt some, but Master Kenobi said no. We have to deal with the war and I have too much training to take care of a pet on top of everything else. Maybe when the war is over and I'm a Knight.

12. What sports do you or have you played?

I never played any sports on Earth and I don't have any time to play sports here. So does my training count?

13. How tall are you?

Five foot. Which isn't that short, I don't care what Skywalker says about me being "Tiny". I'm not that short! Everyone else is just tall! Yoda is short but I don't see anyone making fun of him.

14. Favourite subject in school?

In Earth school it was English and history. But here in Star Wars it's definitely studies with the Force. It's so interesting! There are so many cool things you can do with the Force! And the Force itself is so cool! I love how bright the Force is too, like stars at night...not that's related to my studies or anything that's just how I feel the Force.

15. Dream job?

Jedi Master! Imagine....Master Kennet. It has a great ring to it.

[rosecentaur1916]

An argument that Poe deserved to be left out of Holdo's plans Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

SPOILER WARNING FOR "STAR WARS: RESISTANCE REBORN" BY REBECCA ROANHORSE

I've been floating around the fandom and seeing people argue that Poe did nothing wrong in "The Last Jedi" and that just isn't true. Its the learning lessons movie of the trilogy just like the beginning of the third act has the crisis of the soul, so too does the trilogy, but just in the second act not the third.

You can't pretend that the loss of the bomber squadron wasn't Poe's fault. Even Poe couldn't pretend that it wasn't his fault. Here's an excerpt from "Star Wars: Resistance Reborn" by Rebecca Roanhorse which is an official Star Wars canon book about the situation from Poe's perspective. This takes place in Grail City after Black Squadron had helped them fight off The First Order: "He motioned the rest of Black Squadron over, and they gathered by their ships under the stretch of the night sky. And he told them. Everything. Of the D'Qar evacuation and his decisions that led to the loss of the Resistance bomber squadron, of the slow chase across space, of Rose Tico and Finn's mission to Canto Bight, of his own insubordination and demotion, and, finally of the Battle of Crait and all they had lost. And what little they had left. ""I don't understand," Jess said, her voice an octave too high. "They're gone? The fleet is gone?" ""They can't be all gone," Karé countered. "Can they, Poe?" ""I'm sorry," he sad, head lowered. ""Oh..." she covered her mouth with her hands and turned away. Snap gathered her to his chest. Poe could see tears in his eyes. ""The people, too?" Jess asked, "Are you sure?" ""Jess," Poe said gently. "I was there. The Resistance..." He spread his hands. "It's pretty much just the Falcon, and us." "Silence, as Poe let it sink in. Just how bad it all was, just how desperate they were. And how much of the situation was his fault." Pages 25 to 26. Even Poe knew it was his fault that the entire bomber squadron was lost, that he was insubordinate, and deserved the demotion. He had not garnered Holdo's trust so she did what she thought was best and didn't tell him the evacuation plan from the Raddus to Crait. I'm not saying that he didn't do all the things listed as well, but being upset with Holdo for not trusting him enough with the plans for the evacuation when she had plenty of evidence to not trust him is just plain silly and ignoring the hurt he had caused. That's not okay either. Poe is no angel, or Star War's equivalents of angels if they have any outside of force ghosts. Then immediately after that he goes on to say: ""I understand if you want to leave. I mean, if you want to leave without me. Black Squadron seemed to be doing fine without my presence. But if you stay and allow me to lead you, I will do everything in my power to make it up to you. I promise." "He closed his mouth and waited. For their confusion, for their judgement, for their disavowals. When all he got was silence, he looked up." -"Resistance Reborn" page 26. He took accountability and this was the action he was going to take to fix it. However, they don't let him pull away from them and admit their own faults: "Snap was the first to speak. "That's some heavy stuff, Poe," he said, voice serious. "and I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me." ""I underst-" ""But," Snap continued before he could finish. "Didn't I just tell you about our massive disaster on Pastoria? People died because we let ourselves get played. We have to live with that, too." ""The droids call me the Great Destroyer," Jess added. "Still. I mean, it's not like I'm trying to get them killed, but they end up scrap all the same." ""Well-" ""And I'm pretty sure my middle name is insubordination," Sauralinda added, "but that's because I'm misunderstood." ""I'm not making excuses for-" ""You're going to have to face your mistakes, Poe," Karé said, "and make amends where you can. But you'll do it with Black Squadron at your side. You're not getting rid of us that easily. Besides, it sounds like all we've got is one another, screwups and all. "The heaviness that Poe had been carrying lifted a bit. They weren't saying what he did was okay, but they weren't going to abandon him, either. "I'll work to make it better," he said, quietly, head down, shame heavy on his shoulders. "I swear it"" I will finish in part 2 because tumblr won't let me make this post any longer....

[dapurinthos]

messing around with mortis because it's one of my least favourite arcs in the clone wars.

the idea of force 'gods' just puts my teeth on edge because it feels way too western for the buddhist-based cosmology, where there are spirits, enlightened beings, tutelary deities, and so on, but the conception between deva and the western notion of a god are so different that they shouldn't be considered the same category. they aren't immortal, they don't create things. the closest you get is when it intersects with other eastern religions.

having severe the bakkhai flashbacks here, to dionysos's:

I am something supernatural  not exactly god, ghost, spirit, angel, principle or element –  There is no term for it in English.  In Greek they say daimon –  can we just use that? 

we're going on a long trip wrt mortis here behind the cut.

getting back to eastern religions. i keep going back to the concept of the three pure ones and the way they're created (the tao produced one (wuji/nothingness/pre-creation; one produced two (taiji/separating yin & yang); two produced three) pings interesting thoughts.

the daughter & son of the mortis trio are called 'the winged goddess' and 'the fanged god' by the nightsisters. no father present. the tsis had an indigenous got named typhojem, the left-handed god, a title that implies that there is a right-handed deity to match. pomojema, the deity worshipped on mimban, is a healing deity. there's a whole thing about how rogue one was very nearly placed on mimban, involving the temple of pomojema before they invented jedha. their names even go together, both containing -jem, though there is the -a suffix on pomojema's name.

i think that the typhojem/pomojema pairing could be the tsis equivalent of the nightsister's binary.

if the three on mortis are something divine (not my favourite interpretation), then they should work similarly to the three pure ones, except i think it would go more like an allegory of the 'birth' of the force:

there was the one, the force all inclusive; this one split into the two: ashla/the winged goddess/pomojema/'the daughter' and bogan/the fanged god/typhojem/'the son', symbolizing the separation of the dark and light sides of the force (not dark as in the way of the sith, but more of a creation/entropy cycle split); these two later created the third, dai/'the father'/balance (yes dai, not bendu, because that name's already taken).

this third part/creation is something that happened later, going by its absence in the nightsister & tsis cosmologies with the dual deities instead of a trinity.

or: the dark current of the force existed before all, in a time of formless chaos, until the coming of the bright flare of the force that allowed the dark current, bogan, to exist in opposition and balance to the bright flare, ashla. to keep the balance between them, so that creation and entropy, order and chaos would never outweigh each other, ashla and bogan came together to create dai.

(the bendu is the reversed tarot card of dai. he is 'the one in the middle' but he is the one in the middle solely by virtue of not doing anything to upset the 'balance'.)

as to the inhabitants of mortis, well. due to it's time fuckery, i think it's just a group of lost je'daii who have no idea what year it is and that 2000-year-old signal is one that the jedi order itself had been using since the beginning of their order and only changed when phanius went off and became darth ruin and his little section of the sith pulled a couple 'oh no we are all alone and scared! help us, fellow jedi!' a few too many times so the order changed it then. after using it for thousands and thousands of years.

as far as these three know, they just left tython after the force wars and the dissolution of the je'daii order to explore 'wild space', found this tho yor-looking fucker (melting pot canon of yes, it's a tho yor, it was built as a final redoubt to protect mortis from the rakata getting hold of it, with another one around the wellspring of the force planet that disappeared over the myriads, the tho yor themselves being built as a gree, kwa, zeffo collaboration), went on in, found their ship was irreparable, and set off the emergency beacon that's been popping up on jedi scanners ever since, confusing the hell out of people as it moves around the galaxy however it wants.

[enkisstories]

The wrecking of the Steadfast

Chapter 7, in which the rebels chase General Pryde across the ocean, to the wreck of the Steadfast. But before they set off, Hux receives force-assisted therapy.

Link to the chapter or read from the beginning

Outtake:

The arrivals showered and had a quick meal. Afterwards Hux’ leg started hurting again, so the doctor forced a bacta patch into his hands and wouldn’t leave before it had gotten applied. Was resorting to this aid for the old injury a sign of weakness or of efficiency? Hux couldn’t tell anymore. Too much had happened in too short a time. Had it even been a full week since he had revealed himself as the spy to the rebels? [...] The storage room’s door opened. Hux turned his head and asked: “Are you o… Oh, it’s you.”

It was just Rey, who had left the room. But then again, there was something Hux wanted to discuss with the Jedi in training before they left to chase Pryde, so why not bring it up right now.

“A word, please, Master Palpatine!”

“It’s hardly Master yet. What do you want?”

“For you to take a look at my future.”

“I’m not a fortune teller!”

Hux nodded solemnly. “On our fortunes hinges the galaxy’s fate, though. You are not a scavenger anymore, Finn not a soldier, Poe no smuggler anymore, Rose no longer a maintenance worker and BB-8 would at least be Captain, were he alive according to the letters of the law. Like it or not, we are the ones to decide where things will go from here.”

“Well, YOU certainly seem to be fond of that idea.”

“Am I? What do you see in the Force regarding this? Because I cannot tell anymore. There were a few hours of clarity and purpose, but now it’s back to doubt again. My question is, if I change nothing, and just go on like this, where will this lead?”

“Alright.” Rey closed her eyes. Without changing her stance, she listened, then said: “I see… ruin, misery and despair.”

Hux chuckled. “Naturally. Look a little further than the next five minutes, maybe?”

Rey shook her head. “I allowed you to distract me from everything I learned so far about how the Force works. But truth is, I cannot describe a future sprung from a moment that I have no clear picture of. I need to look at your PRESENT first.”

Hux nodded with the barest hint of a smile. Rey was less accepting of the defector as the others, naturally, since they had never fought alongside each other or faced hardships together. But Hux found that he could interact just fine with her on a strictly professional level.

“That’s surprisingly analytical for a mystic”, he said. “I think I like your approach.”

“Like it enough to let me take a look into your mind?” Rey asked. “This isn’t about a nebulous future, that may or may not come to pass. This will be real. Real and thoroughly unflattering.”

“It’ll probably be just naked Poe anyway.”

And just in case that was the cause, Hux made sure to close his coat as to not let some perfectly natural reaction to that sight show, should it occur.

“Okay…”

Rey straightened. Part of her wanted to decline, and even the part that agreed with Hux’ request was loath to get this close to the schemer and mass murderer. Still she focused and went through with it, remembering a shadow of a memory that had come to her when she had felt all the Jedi in her mind on Exegol: Revan’s reply to his companions after his battle against Darth Malak - “I couldn’t bring him back from the dark side”. Stating this clearly had been more important to Revan than declaring that he had won, that Malak was dead and wouldn’t pose a danger anymore. No matter how low someone had fallen, there was always the offer to return. In the Force it was crystal clear that “last chances” were something people had invented. The concept was in no way part of how the universe worked. If one was willing, there was always a way back. But leave it to Armitage Hux to need the help of a Jedi (in training) to tell him what it was that he wanted…

Rey reached out, potentially able to lay bare ANYTHING, a scary thought, but it was too late now to tell her to stop. Eyes wide open, Hux waited for a sting or a sudden sensation of cold or any other physical evidence of another’s presence entering his mind. But it never came. Instead, he saw tears in Rey’s eyes.

“What’s the matter? If you saw that, well, that was my greatest triumph. Deal with it.”

“No, this isn’t about anything I saw. It’s your request in itself, that threw me off.”

“How so?”

“I was thinking back to the tales about the Jedi, always fighting evil with wise arguments or lightsabers in hand. It was the image I strived to build myself up towards, but never have I heard of something as simple and useful as a person coming to a Jedi to tell him what his problem was. Was it never done, or maybe all the time, never getting passed down in stories, because it wasn’t heroic enough? We’ve lost so much lore after the fall of the old republic… I’m sorry, but I’m too emotional now to work on your issues. In the meantime just… just try not to be a shitty human being.”

“For your information, I never was anything other than not…” stumbling over his own words to the point of losing sight of the intended end of the sentence, Hux inhaled and started over: “I always was an upstanding officer! And the times I may have been a little less so, they had had it COMING!!!”

[...]

After maybe two hours, Rey woke up already. She looked around, saw that Finn had left the dorm and taken his bedsheet with him to spend the night with Rose downstairs. Rey smiled. In the same vein one of Poe and Armitage had left his bed and slipped under the other’s sheet. From the fact that BB-8 had entered standby mode next to the now doubly occupied cot Rey deduced that Hux had been the (welcome) invader. The men were lying entwined, and perfectly at ease.

[...]

Rey looked back to her cot, just to make sure that she had left her lightsaber there and didn’t carry it right now, because what she was about to do spurned uncomfortable associations as was. She stepped next to the sleeping men and held her hand out above Hux’ head, ready to meet the darkness within, just like Luke Skywalker had done that fateful night when Ben had destroyed the Jedi academy…

The world grew brighter, of course it would, seeing that Rey had just entered a memory that took place in broad daylight. The color yellow dominated everything, the ground, the faraway hills and even the crates, tarpaulins and tents that made up what looked like a small fugitive camp. Just add a couple poles to support streetlights, stomp a few pathes into the ground and let a handful of happabores lose, and Rey could have been back in Niima Outpost. Wait… Niima? Was she back on Jakku? Was this a memory of her own?

But, no, now an orange-haired boy of about three or four years age came running towards her. The desert sun had seeded his face with freckles and a patch covered his forehead where the child must have bumped against a solid object. The boy was holding up a sketchpad and when he spotted Rey, he started waving with it excitedly.

Rey took a step to the side and turned her head to the left, to see who the recipient of the drawing might be.

“Father, father!” The boy now accelerated and almost stumbled over his own feet. “I painted us going fishing! Here’s you and here’s me and here’s General Rax, how he guts a gi-nor-mous fish!”

Sometimes, Rey thought with some resignation, saving the universe entailed looking at a childhood drawing of Hux’. The fish entrails were a sight to behold. Apparently the messy process of preparing a dish from meat had left a great impression on the little boy.

The one called “father” didn’t comment on the scene pictured.

“You drew this, not painted, he said. “At least get the terms straight, if you cannot do it right!”

Ouch. There was the comment, after all, but it wasn’t flattering. Would a four year old understand what had gotten said between the lines? Rey for the life of herself couldn’t tell whether the picture was any good. She took another look… but the scene had changed and now Rey was looking at an empty sheet of drawing paper. Unlike the datapad, this medium didn’t allow for mistakes, everything put onto it stayed, or at the very least the paper would later show where corrections had been made and with that it would forever be a shameful proof that corrections had been needed in the first place.

The – older now - boy straightened the paper, pinned it to his drawing mat and selected a pencil from an array of different point sizes and hardnesses. A thin red line ran over the back of his right hand, where a scratch was in the process of healing. Now this was a kid who always raised his hand when nature announced “injuries for free, who wants one?”!

Not letting the lingering pain from the scratch distract him, the boy scribbled two outlines of a fish that were exactly the same shape and size. Then he started to meticulously fill one of the shapes up with scales. He added fins and a tail and, after staring into space for a while (there probably was a fishtank in Rey’s back that’s inhabitants he was studying) drew the eyes and mouth. Rey couldn’t help but smile when the boy’s tongue slid into the corner of his mouth from focusing so hard on the drawing. Even knowing what monster he’d grow up into, there was something immensely head pat-able about the youngling.

A hand shot forward from Rey’s position, startling the watcher. She couldn’t really have extended her own hand and solidified it on top of that? Not on someone else’s memory?! But, no, the hand was male and covered in thin red body hair. Rey nodded with some satisfaction. No doubt it was head pat time now. The adult hand reached for the boy’s thatch, ever so briefly touched it, but then quickly smacked the head. The boy howled in response!

“Ow! You ma’e me bi’e my ‘ongue!”

“See? Told you that would happen when you do that. Stop doing it.”

“Grrr…”

“Now listen. I have important guests over for dinner. You stay in this room and don’t make your presence known.”

“Huh? I don't do what with my what?”

“You pretend you don’t exist.”

“Ah.”

Rey saw one of the rations she had traded for at Unkar Putt’s station get tossed on the desk. It was a quarter only.

“If you get hungry, add water. You know how to.”

Off the man went, leaving behind a visibly reddened boy. Red in the face from anger and humiliation, he whispered something to himself that Rey couldn’t understand before taking up his drawing exercise again.

The second shape got filled with… oh, shit. Fish innards again. Talk about an obsession! The boy perfectly captured the way the organs lay in relation to each other and their texture, everything was to scale and pristine, way more clean than the real thing. It was more a fish blueprint than a realistic depiction of a dead fish’s insides. Total order, fully understood and controllable.

The whole process including inking and shading felt as if several sessions had gotten rolled into a single one for the watcher’s convenience. The lighting had changed several times and now it switched back to pitch black. Rey was back in the prison dorm, and Hux was stirring. Moving carefully in order not to wake up Poe, he turned towards the barred window and raised his hand towards it, then carefully inspected the back of it. When neither a scratch nor a scar appeared, he breathed out with relief.

“Phew.”

Rey sat down on the cot below the window, opposite of Hux, looking at his face in silence. Dread changed to amazement, when the man added one and one together:

“Oh. So YOU stirred that memory!”

“Yes. I didn’t expect you to dream it at the same time, though.”

“I see.”

There was still a hint of worry in the man’s voice, even when he conjured up his usual arrogance to say:

“Well, your grasp of time is as shitty as my first attempts at drawing. That wasn’t my present, but my past.”

“Wrong. The events may have happened long ago, but this very much is your present state. You still live in this scene, or the boy still lives inside you. Do you know what I saw? Buried shame, covered up by ambition and violence. These qualities are part of you, but fueled by the shameful memories, they get blown up to insane proportions.”

“So. Do they. Or maybe the rest of you just lacks determination!”

Rey shook her head.

“I saw that you are capable of shame. If only you’d be ashamed of the things you should!”

“What then?!”

“You could build that waterpark on Jakku. Statics, logistics, gathering support from potential funders, that’s all right up your alley. I think you could pull that off. People would look back in awe at how we managed such a project so briefly after the war.”

Now the former General sat straight!

“When did you see that in my mind?!” he gasped.

“Earlier today, when you first asked me to analyze your mind.”

Audibly stricken, Hux whispered: “I didn’t realize I was thinking about the water park! Is it really that much on the forefront of my thoughts?”

“Not in the way you think it is. I felt a craving for triumph and followed the trail. Lots of images popped up and vanished again, too fast to capture, given what emotional state I was in. But, like a watermark, the public bath project was in the background of everything.”

“I never knew… It’s an idea I toyed with… now and then. A lark.”

“It’s more than that”, Rey insisted. “You are an architect. Structure and things that last and the world being aware that it was YOU, who created those lasting things, that’s you. The General only ever was a means to that end.”

“What about the Emperor?”

“You have to ask that? Here, in this room, the night after the airstrike? There won’t ever be an Emperor again! Not you, not me, nor anybody!”

<em>Yes, why not. If I can’t be it, then nobody…</em>

“I heard that!”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Okay, okay, you’re correct. But your mimic wasn’t hard to read. And you confirmed immediately.”

Hux said nothing. He sat there, unresponsive, clutching his hand without realizing it, waiting for time to pass, the sun to come up and Rose to announce where they’d go next.

After a while Rey got up and stepped out onto the balcony, struggling with thoughts of her own.

[lovelessdagger]

The Fall of the Jedi  | Chapter Two: The Battle of Coruscant

Pairing: Hunter  x OFC

Rating: Mature

Summary: “…Separatist Droid Leader General Grievous has been seen outside of Coruscant atmosphere,” a female presenter says, strong in her Coruscanti accent. “Fighter droids are landing at this very moment across Galactic City. The Republic is under attack. I repeat. The Republic is under attack.”

Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Character Death. Canon Typical Violence.

Words: 3.4K

Daybreak Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

For the first time in her life, Odella believes the Force has abandoned the Jedi.

It is the only explanation.

“Where are the younglings?”

For keepers of the peace, the Temple has never been in such disarray. 

“Has anybody seen my Padawan?”

Separatist droid battalions march by the thousands over Coruscant streets.

“Sector B-12 needs more forces!”

Temple guards line corridors, double bladed lightsabers posed and ready for the impending attack.

“We must remain clam. Tranquility will bring clarity.”

Through windows, debris of starfighters and the wreckage of buildings they crash into tumble in a fiery blaze.

“The Chancellor—“

Vulture droids soar in the sky, shot down by clone troopers who fall not long after.

“Who is protecting the Chancellor?”

It’s the beginning of the end of the world.

In the hull of a modified Omnicron-class attack shuttle nicknamed the Marauder, the head of clone trooper Tech tilts, blocked eyebrows pinched together.

“Your paint job is a bit crude,” he says, accent more posh than the standard clone. “But it will suffice.”

“Thanks,” Echo scoffs, voice modulated through his helmet. He stands like a paper doll, three sets of eyes on him. He hasn’t been with this new group, The Bad Batch, for very long at all. Though acclimation to them is easier than to his new body. Even now, he can frequently be seen finicking with his cybernetic parts, or forgetting he had them all together, reaching with what was his right hand. “It’s not like there were many options.”

“Black armor is in short supply in Kamino,” Tech says. “And cyborgs are not in the manufacturing protocols, it would not have made a difference.”

“Well I think he looks great!” Shouts the biggest one of the group. His hand claps on Echo’s shoulder, nearly toppling him over.

“And you, Wrecker, have the taste of a Rancor,” Tech says.

“Hey! You take that back!”

“No,” Tech says, turning back to the ship’s steering.

“You’re all children.” The sneer from the corner comes from Crosshair. Soiled boots lay on top of a separate control panel, a toothpick between his teeth. “Tech is right though, your paint job is shit.”

“It’s hard to do much with one hand.”

“Oh,” Crosshair scoffs. “I’m sure there’s plenty hard for you to do, unless… you’ve lost that too?”

Hearty belly laughs erupt in the ship from each clone, aside from Echo of course. Wrecker is the worst of them, an overgrown tank of a child.

The leader of the group, Hunter, walks out from the fresher. He wears his blacks, tying his red bandana onto his partially dried hair. There’s no acknowledgment to the others as he grabs the data pad by Crosshair, sitting behind Tech.

“What do you think Sarge?” Wrecker asks. All he does is flick aimlessly through incoming reports, posture hunched. “Sarge?”

“Hm?”

“What ya think of Echo’s armor?”

He still doesn’t look, nodding. “Sure thing Wrecker.”

“Hey Sarge, Cross wants his picture taken.”

Nothing.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s been out of it since Anaxes,” Crosshair says, flicking his toothpick. “You’re just now noticing?”

“Well excuse me, not all of us have super eyes.”

“It’s called basic observation skills.”

“Still doesn’t explain what’s wrong with ‘em.”

“Simple,” Tech says, looking back. “He saw a girl.”

It earns a reaction at least, distinct gray eyes flickering across the room.

“Told you.”

“How did you figure that?” Echo asks, taking off his helmet.

“Because, Hunter’s arrogant. He’s only allowed himself to look stupid one other time—”

“I can hear you,” he says.

“—and that was on Kamino. Right before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

He sets the tablet down, arms crossed. “Is this really necessary to discuss?”

“It is,” Tech says. “It was some Jedi girl who accompanied General Yoda to collect the Regs,” he explains to Echo. “We were speaking to Commander Ponds and she runs up completely out of breath and says ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’”

“I remember that!” Wrecker interjects, laughing. “His face got all red and everything.”

“Was she talking to him?” Echo asks.

“No, she was talking to Ponds. She didn’t even look at him,” Crosshair says. “He just stood there and stared at her like a maniac.”

“It was his first time seeing a girl,” Tech says.

“It was the first time any of us saw a girl,” Hunter defends.

“Yes, but you were the only stupid one. He was out of it for weeks, we almost voted Crosshair in to be leader.”

“Whatever.”

“Do you know who it was?” Echo asks, always the more compassionate.

“No, and it doesn’t matter. We’re done discussing this.”

The collective groans, muttering over Hunter’s lack of fun. His eyes roll, paying them no mind. The big brother position has always been his, for better or for worse.

Sirens of the Marauder screech within the hull, each of the men flinching in on themselves. Hunter’s the worst of them all, genetic modifications and all.

“Tech, turn that off,” he grits, hands to his ears.

“It’s Kamino,” Tech frowns, reading the data scans. “They’ve never done that before, I’ll override the ship’s calibrations so that they no longer have access… Hello?”

“Clone Force 99, this is Tipoca Base. You’re to reroute to Kaller, abort your assignment to Coruscant immediately.”

“May I ask why?”

“You haven’t heard?”

“I am asking for a reason.”

The line falls flat long enough for Tech to exit the Marauder out of hyperspace, and reprogram coordinates through the NavComp. They’ve all thought the other had disconnected completely until static crackles through the speakers.

“…Separatist Droid Leader General Grievous has been seen outside of Coruscant atmosphere,” a female presenter says, strong in her Coruscanti accent. “Fighter droids are landing at this very moment across Galactic City. The Republic is under attack. I repeat. The Republic is under attack.”

Odella leads a line of other knights throughout the Temple, each with lightsaber in hand. Though she can’t say how she became the leader, or why they chose her to follow. Just that morning she sat alone in the Mess Hall, nursing a cup of tea that burned her throat. Now, her feet guide her to places her mind does not know.

Maybe it’s because she felt the ripple through the Force before everyone else, before it even started. Or she thinks she did. It’s a feeling like she’s never had before. It’s a dagger of thorns through her skin, pricking and dragging.

She will not know it’s the beginning of the end until the end has passed.

They gather in one of the briefing rooms, and she turns on the HoloNet news as if they cannot all see the tragedies unfolding with their own eyes. The news reports in Basic, anchors rattling off what everyone already knows.

“…Republic is under attack. I repeat. The Republic is under attack.” Their tone remains as bland and unbiased as they’ve been trained to in academies, despite the vision of their hologram shaking with explosions. 

They all look to her, expecting something.

It’s like the final gear in her brain is clicked into place. She dismisses the report in favor of a map of the planet, on a separate monitor displaying the growing list from the HoloNet of attacked areas. Master Yoda and Master Windu have already taken to the Senate and Federal District. They’ll be fine.

“I need two volunteers to go into the CoCo District,” she says, looking over her shoulder.

Without thought two Jedi, Nira and Yikan, a Rodian and Ithorian step up. 

“Three for the Central District.”

Jtal, Adi, and Boric.

“One for Bindai.”

Eirm.

“Two in Brewery.”

The doorway to the room is left open, and passing Jedi on their own determined walkthroughs find their way inside.

“Four in the Entertainment district. One by the opera house, one at the theaters, two near public transit.”

Then four.

Odella cross checks growing reports of attacks with various maps, a third hologram displayed with Clone Commander reports. Group by group assignments are made, and two Jedi elect to stay with her. “You all know my comm frequency, right?” She’s answered by thrown about hums of affirmations and steady nods. “Good. If you need backup reach out, we’ll reroute forces the best we can. Remember, if you see civilians you must do anything you can to protect them.”

Another set of nods follow.

She sighs, Temple grounds shaking with another explosion. “May the Force be with you.”

“Everything’s gone to hell.”

A sea of men are hounded into one shuttle after the other, pressed together shoulder by shoulder. Beneath their feet, mechanics rumble and the exhaust spews on take off.

Nomart didn’t even know this many men served in the Coruscant Guard. It’s a big planet, and they’re rarely all together in the same room at once. In fact, Nomart suspects the last time this many of them were this close to another in one space, were their growth pods back on Kamino.

He ended up being one of the last to leave the barracks after the alarm sounded. Everyone else was in a full sprint to stations, and getting trampled would do little for his assistance to the Republic. They haven’t been told much, not that they needed to. Separatists have attacked Coruscant. General Grievous has sent his army of mindless droids to fight for him.

He is a coward, and a monster, and he will be brought to justice.

Nomart’s never seen the man in person, if it was fair to refer to him as a man at all, but he’s heard stories, rumors. Some say he began life as a droid who slowly configured organs to become more like man. Others, the opposite. Either way, it stands true that his life runs off cybernetic parts, and he is the most abominable thing in the galaxy. 

The mental health of clones have never been a pressing issue to the clones themselves or the Kaminoans. They’re soldiers, and battle simulations have rotted their brains since before this whole mess started. Death and destruction and slaughter have become a normal and exception proponent of everyday life.

When Grievous showed up, things… changed. The rare few clones who have survived encounters with him are sent back to Kamino for reprogramming. They’re too shaken by the experience, they become mute, they cry at the sight of B-1 droids, they scream at the hum of a lightsaber. The Republic needs soldiers, not traumatized men.

No one knows how it’s done and no one asks. No one says it either, but they all suspect it’s a sham. Those sent back are never heard from or of again. Their existence is completely wiped away.

And now he’s here. On their planet, or just above it. Who does he think he is? The Republic is the strongest entity in the galaxy, nothing some dirty Sep can take and scare away. Certainly not a deformed clanker like Grievous. 

“It’s always been hell. We’re only just now realizing it.” Jinx says this, off to Nomart’s left. 

“Well,” Nomart sighs. “At least it was fun.”

It wasn’t, but they’ve known nothing else, so at least they’ll never have the chance to wonder what if. 

They say nothing more than this.

“I’m gonna tell her,” A third says, the shuttle rattling all inside. “When this is all over, I’m gonna tell her how I feel.”

“Tell who?” Jinx asks.

“General Prot. Brick’s in love with her,” Nomart says.

The rest of the shuttle turns inward. 

“Are clones allowed to love?” 

“Of course we are,” Brick says.  “We love the Republic. We love our Chancellor. We love the citizens—”

“The citizens don’t love us,” Landor says. “I just walked by another clone protest while on patrol last night.”

“I got a drink thrown at me,” Welt adds.

“Why bother?” Train asks. “It not like she feels the same way.”

“She does,” Brick says. “I know she does.”

“Did she tell you?”

“No but—“

“She’s a Jedi, Brick. It’ll never work out.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t die knowing I never tried.”

The shuttle stops in the Senate District, and they all file out. Blasters and riot shields raise in their march. It’s worse than any of them suspected. Entire buildings are destroyed and there’s more destruction on the streets than visible pavement. 

The lot of them manage eleven steps away from the shuttle—Nomart was in the middle of his twelfth—before it explodes. There’s no correct way to describe it. The ricochet of metal shrapnel, the deafening sound of it all, how his body ends up twenty feet from where it started. How he passes out and wakes up to the worst pain of his life.

Limbs are intact, he’s not bleeding (not anywhere he can see at least), he’s cognizant of his surroundings. He’s alive. 

He may be the only one alive.

Groaning comes from the body beside him, sharp and breathy. “Gi...“ He says. “Maker.”

“Brick?” Nomart asks, turning over. “Brick, it’s me. It’s Nomart, I’m here. Stay awake brother.”

“Martie?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s Martie. You gotta stand up. We have to go.”

“Where’s,” he pants. “What happened to…”

“It’s just us. I think.”

“Fuck. I can’t… I can’t get up.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll call someone, I’ll—“ The commsystems on his arm are shattered, wires on the fritz. “We’ll wait until someone comes. The Jedi will be here soon. They’ll help us.”

“Tell her,” Brick coughs. “Tell Gia. Please. Tell her for me.”

“Tell her yourself,” Nomart says, taking his hand. “We’re gonna get you out of here, you hear me? We’ll get you back to medical and you’ll get all patched up. You’re gonna tell her, and—and you’ll go on and get out of this war and have fucked up Jedi clone babies.”

Brick laughs, if a pained wheeze can count as a laugh. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He’s talking out of his ass, he has the moment he entered cadet training. But it’s gotten him this far.

“They… they’d kinda be like yours too, wouldn’t they? Same DNA and all that.”

Nomart slows, a frown settled behind his helmet. “I guess they would, yeah,” he says. “So you’ve gotta push through, B. Someone’s gotta keep up our legacy, might as well be you.”

“I’ll name the boy Nomart, even if it is stupid. I swear.”

A shadow grows over them, blocking the artificial sun. 

“How…” a mechanical hacking cough billows into the air, “… touching.”

Few clones survive encounters with General Grievous.

Nomart and Brick are not one of them. 

“This just in,” the reporter says, static of her words filtering in the briefing room. It’s hauntingly empty now, save for the three who occupy. Twin Jedi Knights Cora and Gia Prot scatter themselves at computers, headsets turned on and maps surrounding their vision. Odella mimics their situation at the center console. The HoloNet plays at a fourth in the background.

Gia crumples to her knees without prompt, a gasp and horror stricken across her face.

“Sister,” Cora says, bending. “What is it? What have you sensed?”

“I’m unsure,” she admits, hand over her chest. “Something terrible has happened. Absolutely awful… does it not pain you as well? I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“No,” Cora says. “I feel nothing.”

“Odella?”

“I’m sorry, no. It’s best to ignore it until later,” she says, swiping through reports. “Your attention is needed here—”

“Supreme Commander of the Droid Army, General Grievous has set foot on Coruscant,” the reporter says in the air. “By emergency order of the Senate, citizens are to remain inside and away from windows. Power down any and all droids you may have in your home. We do not know what he is capable of.”

Swearing never came naturally to Odella until now.

“Thoren.” Filters through the headset, bass voice of static and authority. “Why am I being alerted to Jedi being sent out under your word?”

“Master Windu,” she panics, straightening posture an automatic response.

“It is not your station to command attacks of this nature. You’re not trained for this.”

Force be with her.

“With all due respect Master, attacks of this nature were not in your training either. I’m doing what I know to be the right thing, just as you taught me.”

“Pull back your forces.” 

“No,” she says, catching the stilled breathes of her company. “I don’t think I will.” Her eyes squeeze shut, waiting for a reprimand that never comes. “If you’d like news of your location,” she continues to say. “General Grievous has been spotted in the Senate District. The Chancellor is in danger.”

Silence comes first. “Shaak Ti has already been sent to protect Palpatine.”

“Are you able to communicate this information to her?”

The line falls flat, frequency empty once more. And then, “She’s not answering.”

It’s as if the axis spin of Coruscant itself has stopped, a cloud of dread heavy as storms. If Palpatine is gone, the Republic is truly lost. What good or hope can there be without their adored leader? Grievous wouldn’t kill him, she’s sure of this. He’s too valuable to both sides. An execution would only come to a public audience, the supreme victory of the Separatists. This is an outcome Grievous’ mind, whatever is left of himself after his enchantments would be satisfied with.

Count Dooku on the other hand… he’s a Jedi. Or he used to be. He left the Order just before she was brought in, but even still she knew of his pride. Harm will only come to the Chancellor under his hand. Even then, her spy work in Separatist worlds provide one insight, he is respected. What would his people think if he so viciously murdered an innocent man without trial?

He’d make certain that Palpatine is humiliated in front of the galaxy, reputation destroyed to be made out as the monster the Republic has made the Separatist to be.

There’s only two people Odella knows who can, who will protect the Republic in this hour. Two who will win the war and turn the tide. And one, who will keep his promise and come home to a finished war.

With such a simple thought, faith is restored.

The Chancellor won’t die. Not yet.

Not if Anakin has anything to say about it.

Windu seems to face the same realization she does, a steady crinkle of their silence until he says, “Tell them to hurry. Time cannot be wasted.”

“I will.”

“Ahsoka? She’s back?”

Obi-Wan watches as Odella’s blue tinted hologram shines into the bridge aboard the Venator-class Star Destroyer. It feels as though no time has passed at all since her departure from Anaxes, but he notes her older appearance. The bright eyes that sat in his quarters for hours on end slightly dulled. She stands with closed fists, nails biting into her palms. The permanent smile she’s worn since she were a Youngling, gone into stoicism.

He blames the quality of hologram, government issued items can’t always be trusted.

“No,” he says, head shaking. “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that. Shall I relay a message to Anakin for you?”

She takes a pause. “Grievous has invaded Coruscant. You both must return immediately.”

Commander Cody stands by his side. With a nod, he takes off in a sprint gathering forces. “What can you tell me?” Obi-Wan urges.

“Not much. The Temple hasn’t been attacked, and neither has the Senate. I’m sure Dooku is here as well, outside of atmosphere.”

“And the Chancellor?”

Her left hand shakes, and wipes on her thigh. “Please, don’t scare Anakin. You know how he gets.”

“Odella, what’s happened?”

“Master Windu told me Shaak Ti was sent to protect him but— no one’s heard or seen her since the report of Grievous.”

“He’s been taken?”

“That’s the assumption. Yes.” She sighs now, brows furrowed. “Obi-Wan,” she says, as hushed as she can be. “Please look after Anakin. If he does something he regrets—“

“He won’t,” he says. 

“He won’t do it, or he won’t regret it?”

Obi-Wan steps back, glancing to Admiral Yuleran. “Sound the alarms,” he says to the other. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

This at least, he can promise. 

In the cold of space directly outside of Coruscant’s atmosphere, war rages on.

Two Jedi soar on star fighters and infiltrate the Invisible Hand. 

A Sith Lord is slaughtered.

A Chancellor is saved.

A Republic is all but destroyed.

Next: The Great Disillusionment

[heavilycaffeinatedmuffin]

What if the clone wars begin and Obi-wan just figures that war is Not the Jedi Way or His Way of doing things, so he leaves and spends the rest of his life with Satine? Maybe even in the growing forests of Concordia? Would Satine retire as Duchess to be with Obi-wan?

oh god that means Almec would lead Mandalore and Be Corrupt until the stuff with Maul and the siege of Mandalore holy shit adfkjghksjkfsdjkhfdkjghdf ok.

i need to get my thoughts out before i start getting to the part im nerding out about .

Anakin, without Obi-wan as his master, resumes his training under Plo Koon because who else could do it? (is obi-wan even anakin's master by the time the clone wars starts? probably not. fuck)

Plo provides an interesting perspective on the war, balancing anakin's gung-ho militarism with a reserved, Jedi view on it. Plo is a great pilot and he's a great commander for his clones, similarities that he could bond with Anakin over while still providing a mature presence. This does not bode well for Sidious' plan - how does he manipulate this in his favor?

also, the Moralo Eval arc. after catching wind of the threat, the Jedi would send someone to disguise as Rako Hardeen - my first thought was Quinlan Vos. that would DEFINITELY change how things play out in that arc. i'm not familiar with Vos as a character so i cant elaborate here but wow.

a BIG part of Sidious' plan was Obi-wan's presence. Plo Koon being Anakin's master definitely changes stuff up. i wonder if Anakin would tell Plo about Padme.

okay so this is what i was nerding out about earlier. because obviously Maul comes in somehow.

So the story of Ventress, Savage, and eventually Maul plays out. (i wonder how ventress' character would change in this AU. without obi wan to constantly flirt with during the clone wars. would that change her arc of trying to murder dooku? what if she succeeded?)

Maul is revived, gets cyborg legs, and does his bit with Murder Of Innocent People to get the attention of the Jedi. The problem is, he senses something is... off. That, of course, is Obi-wan not being with the Jedi Order any longer. So the Jedi Council either ignores Maul, sends a task force to deal with it, or contacts Obi-wan.

if Maul survives whatever the Jedi Order sends after him (what if it's Anakin and Plo leading a detachment of 501st and Wolfpack troops???) he looks for obi-wan elsewhere. he isn't focused on creating a crime empire. he's just focused on Obi-wan. or maybe he is focused on creating a crime empire. regardless, he has to eventually find Mandalore for story purposes.

in TCW, Almec seemed a bit softer to the Death Watch, even though he wasn't aligned with them until season 5. so what if he allows a Death Watch takeover like, early in the clone wars? would Pre Vizsla have an administrative position or remain as a

and then my idea just gets messy because there are so many possibilities.

Maul never aligns with the Death Watch. He and Savage head directly to where he senses obi-wan, which is Concordia. there are so many possibilities here too - how rusty is obi-wan after all the time he's spent with Satine? can he still manage to get the upper hand like he did on Florrum in TCW?

Also - how would Obi-wan's ideology on pacifism change after spending so much time with Satine? how would Satine's ideology change?

What if Maul kills Satine and lets Obi-wan leave with his life? Would Obi-wan return to the Jedi, broken and defeated and just. lost? How would Anakin react?

FUCK my mom is telling me to do things but i'm so caught up with this ughhhhhh

Sidious only comes into the Maul mix in TCW season 5, and we're still in late season 4 territory. so throwing Sidious into this mess wouldn't make much sense as Maul isn't enough of a pest to be deemed worthy of stamping out.

my mom needs to stop distracting me cant she see the autism needs room to breathe

If Maul goes with his original season 4 idea of capturing Obi-wan and just beating the shit out of him for a while, Ventress wouldn't rescue him. Would anyone? OH MY GOD WHAT IF SATINE ASKS BO-KATAN AND DEATH WATCH TO HELP RESCUE OBI-WAN AHHSKDJFGJFKDHG

ok yeah thats my idea for now. i need to actually go do stuff

What happens during Order 66 though? what about before Order 66? what if Anakin listened to Fives because of the patience that learning from Plo Koon gave him???

i want to write this but i have like zero confidence in my ability to Keep Working On Things

an AU where obi-wan leaves the jedi order to be with satine just has to exist. there has to be like fics in the triple digits about this. someone help me find it i'm considering writing one (guy who has never finished a fic so far and doesnt put consistent work into writing stuff)