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yourneighborhoodporg · 11 months ago

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The Guardian

Chapter 7: Master

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of pain, banter, humor, fluff, the appearance of a sneaky b (see gif), some developing thoughts about obi 👀

Summary: With your short spar with Anakin nearing completion, the moment is suddenly interrupted by a passing caucus of politicians, one of whom you'd been long hoping to meet. Just as quickly, however, you're dragged away, instead needed at a long-awaited appointment that may reveal new aspects of your being and the immediate path ahead.

Song Inspo: Little Willow — Paul McCartney

Words: 7.5k (just put me in jail)

A/n: He has finally arrived. The one we all hate 😂😭 Let me know what y'all think about his character in this :)

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Series Masterlist

For now we see through a glass, darkly — 1 Corinthians 13:12

“Well done.”

You glanced over at the affected voice with radiant auburn hair, still cognizant enough of your lower back’s recent meeting with the dojo’s pearl-tinted floor to gently press two knuckles against it, hoping to alleviate a sliver of its steadying ache. At the far end of that same three-rowed, dark wood viewing bench, Obi-Wan rose meaningfully, soon strolling toward you both. The Master Jedi leisurely folded each arm while making a point to center his gaze with yours as expressive words fell from his mouth.

“To the both of you.”

Smiling appreciatively at the bearded Jedi, you relaxed your senses, encouraging them to cool like a morning stretch while your stare shifted toward Anakin’s focused gaze and knowing grin. Evidently, he took this shift in your posture as a cue to officially end the duel, directing his saber away from your neck and flicking off its blue, incandescent heat before clipping the weapon to his belt with a clink. You welcomed the invitation to purloin this new space, crunching upwards and gently fluffing your robe of the ground’s remnants. It didn’t take long to recover from the unexpected fall enough to rise to your feet, reattaching your own saber as Obi-Wan continued his approach out of your peripheral.

You faced Anakin with an impassive stance. Tightening your spine, you encouraged the young Jedi to emulate a parallel bearing, prompting his eyes to relax in recognition as both rather slacked expressions linked, signaling each other to dip into a hand-clasped bow in respect of the spar’s end.

“Eh, I think I did most of the work,” Anakin shrugged nonchalantly mid-bob, a poking grin wrestling at ungiving lips as he raised from his inclination.

Your eyes rolled while similarly straightening, an amused smile fighting to the surface. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Either way,” Obi-Wan spoke up, motioning toward you with an earnest stare as he drew into a restive stance beside the younger Jedi. “You really should rest now.”

You raised your hands in surrender in your stroll up toward the duo. “Okay, okay,” you theatricalized, tickled expression never faltering. “I yield to the Master.”

Obi-Wan’s features lifted warmly at your words. It only lasted mere seconds, however, before the wiser Jedi angled toward his left, gesticulating toward the outwardly gratified companion beside him while speaking ironically.

“At least someone has a respect for rank.”

Anakin scoffed, crossing his arms as he addressed the elder Jedi who’d long ago mastered the art of concealed entertainment. “I respect rank!”

It was clear from his expression alone that Obi-Wan had his most sensible retort fueled and aimed, akin to an incredibly quick-witted pirate with a blaster. His mouth opened to speak while raising a finger in dissent. But before any vocalizations could escape his parted lips, a sudden commotion in the form of resonant, overlapping conversationalists and a clamor of heavy, discordant footsteps rippled through the Force, cutting the brief cessation between the three of you like Bantha butter as you all honed into the interference to the Force’s eternal flow.

Despite the muffled nature of the disturbance, dampened by the training room’s separation from the outer walkway, the atmosphere’s sudden uptick in unregulated activity certainly gave you, Obi-Wan, and Anakin brief pause. For you especially, the unexpected shift from the pacified movements you were becoming accustomed to at the Temple to a progressively incongruous bustle beyond the dojo’s walls drenched you in wonderment.

Who could be walking down that hall? No Jedi, you were certain of that. Yet to the best of your knowledge, only Jedi were welcome within the Temple’s walls.

But before you could consider these sensations further, your inner reflection was cut short, namely by the distraction of a pivoting Anakin as he speedily traipsed toward the training room’s gray double doors. You nearly giggled when taking in his movements as you couldn’t help but notice how they resembled the unassertive dash of a youngling having already been told by an exasperated Master to slow down.

“Where are you going?” You asked as Obi-Wan too, followed the retreating Jedi’s movements with discerning eyes.

You spied his head tilt back, that steady, transitional pace never relenting as the young Jedi spoke pointedly at you.

“You can’t say you’re not just as curious as me.”

Inwardly, you sighed.

He certainly wasn’t wrong.

Maybe that’s why without giving it a second thought, you quickly jogged after him in your own indefinite skip.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to be excited about,” Obi-Wan remarked from behind as he started to amble after you both.

But even Master Kenobi’s uniform words did nothing to assuage your interest. There was something new and exciting beyond those walls, and you were intending to discover it.

You continued behind the young Jedi as he attempted to temper his outward eagerness as well, enough to hear a quiet admittance escape from under his breath.

“At this point, anything will be exciting.”

You caught up to Anakin once he reached for the entryway's left control panel, tapping it in stimulated quick succession before the double doors’ thin seam whooshed into an aperture, pulling you both by the power of inquisitiveness alone into the lofty hall’s cooler chill.

Tracing the vibrant, overlay of several life forces’ buzzing ambulation like latent breadcrumbs, your head swiveled to the left. You caught sight of the clatter’s spirited source before swiftly moving with Anakin toward the walkway’s immediate inner wall, hoping to make room for the approaching turbulence just fifteen meters ahead. It was a rather large entourage, composed of eight individuals engaged in a stifled tread down the lilac path toward you.

You analyzed the diverse group, noting that of the beings you could place, two were definitely human. One was a middle-aged gentleman with dark features and olive-shaped eyes, his expression emulating stoic patience and preoccupation. The other, a senior, pale-haired man with sunken eyes and aged creases radiating from the bridge of his nose as he spoke faintly to the olive-orbed fellow beside him. Another was a Rodian, with his attentive eyes, green-tinted form, and impatient expression. And behind him, a being with a tanned eye-stalk trio, protruding snout, and relaxed antennas— a Gran, and a peaceful one at that. To their rear strolled a reserved Ishi Tib, whose x-shaped, emerald countenance, and rounded beak gazed around in awe at the Temple’s steep architecture. The most notable, however, was the towering four-horned Chagrian whose framed sky-blue face stared on with barely restrained severity on the opposite flank of the elderly human. In hand, a long bronzed staff with a sculpted hooded figure as its head.

Soon, you sensed Obi-Wan slow to join you and Anakin from behind, enabling you all to uniformly observe the scene before you.

As the three of you stood in silent regard, you happened to realize that these strangers moved with greater elegance than the masses you’d encountered in the Uscru and Entertainment Districts, remembering how their lumbered gates and sudden skitters added to the atmosphere’s dynamic yet whimsical glow. But despite their upraised grace, each footfall still landed like desensitized raps while their darkened robes of velvety black and currant whipped about legs now leniently treading eight meters away.

Their modulated sophistication and elaborate attire seemed to contribute to that overall air of importance, you considered. These qualities could potentially explain their presence, and suggest their current permissions to be on Temple grounds, you mused. Though it was soon clear that your companions had the answers you were eagerly searching for.

“That, is the Senate Security Council,” Obi-Wan divulged lowly from just above your shoulder, feeling the subtle fluctuation of temperature as his warmed breath passed by your neck.

“And that,” you glanced at Anakin as he continued for him, nodding at the leader of the pack. “Is Chancellor Palpatine.”

You turned back toward the promptly approaching political leader and his cortège, surveying him with resolute focus. If your studies on Hoth and short time in the Jedi Archives revealed anything, it was that the Chancellor was essential to the Republic’s hope of enduring peace. In fact, it was one of the first things you realized in your preparatory studies for the Guardian role— that it would be important to understand this vital figure, appreciating it as another task that aligned with your duty.

But almost immediately, you concluded that he wasn’t exactly what you thought the grand political leader of a Galactic Republic would look like. Now that you were focusing on his comparably slower pace, it seemed that the Chancellor was directing the constant pull and push of their pacified yet hurried tread that would stagger as often as their footsteps echoed against the expansive hall’s soaring ceilings. He was weakened, his climbing age apparent with each labored breath and strained glance at the next political aid. This wasn’t the leader that your imagination conjured during those many daydreaming years on Hoth.

But then again, you were sure the stresses of advising an inter-world union through a war threatening the very harmony of the galaxy would be as exhausting and fermenting as he seemed to be. It was quite possible, that this recent conflict had merely quickened time’s aging disease.

Nevertheless, despite these reasonable explanations, there was still some discrepancy with his title and appearance that you were trying to place. Yes, you had a certain biased image of political leaders from your exposure to Republic lore. Powerful, commanding, unrelenting, which this matured individual could very well be. Yet, still, some incongruity invaded your senses as a modest helping of puzzlement etched its way across the forefront of your mind.

And apparently, across your brows, as Obi-Wan seemed to notice your confusion in his effort to skirt around the two bodies in front of him to stand securely by your vacant side.

“What it is?” He asked, sending you a subtle but curious glance as he continued to maintain a formal pose for the approaching posse’s field of vision.

This comment seemed to garner Anakin’s attention as well as, he too, peeked at your searching expression out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s just…” you paused, trying to find the words.

You dissected the Chancellor once more for a few seconds longer, taking in his entire figure as a tenuous realization washed over your thoughts before retreating back into the depths of your mind.

“He’s shorter than I expected.”

You caught Obi-Wan raising an amused brow as he glanced across you. Following his line of sight, you were met with Anakin’s pursed lips and cheeks that had reddened ever so slightly. The waver was brief as he swiftly hushed you with great enthusiasm, adding a moderate, yet covert, elbow to the arm

“He’s going to hear you,” the Chosen One whispered through gritted teeth while leaning behind your ear.

You lightly swatted away his protruding arm, but it was virtually redundant. Instead, by his own volition, Anakin quickly adopted an almost ritualistic posture for the Council’s slowing stride when he noticed the Chancellor’s features lift in recognition, a gentle smile creasing the older gentleman’s dried lips as he gazed at the young Jedi.

“Master Skywalker!” He exclaimed happily with a weary voice as he halted, stalling the pace of each being who loyally heeded his movements.

The three of you stepped forward toward the welcoming politician.

“It’s good to see you, Your Excellency,” Anakin announced in ceremonious continuity as he bowed respectfully toward the fatigued Chancellor.

“And you as well,” he spoke warmly, cheeks crinkled.

“Chancellor,” Obi-Wan politely nodded toward him. “I trust your trip to the Temple was as fruitful as you hoped?”

Palpatine breathily chuckled. “Yes, Master Kenobi. Thank you for your diligence in asking.”

The other human, with jet black, combed-over hair, striking brows, and a goatee, humbly stepped in, seemingly hoping to save the Chancellor’s energy as he spoke on his behalf.

“Master Yoda and Master Windu have informed us about the temporary communications blackout.”

“Yes,” Palpatine agreed, nodding toward the man stood beside him. “Senator Organa, the rest of the Security Council, and I are all very comforted to know that the system wasn’t damaged in some way. I was concerned when my colleagues and I were not able to get through to The Council using our holocomms. Thankfully, the Jedi have been as proactive as always in addressing these kinds of threats.”

Just as he finished, you noticed an air of curiosity lining the Chancellor’s faded brows once his peripheral caught your figure between the two Jedi. His tender expression turned toward you as he offered a kind greeting. Only in that second, had you noticed that his good-natured countenance began to loosen spinal muscles you didn’t realize were tense.

Politics, and all those who commanded that world, were foreign to you. Having lived on an ungoverned, albeit forsaken, planet, it was not something you came in much contact with. Well, besides your holobooks. So it wasn’t surprising that your senses were confused by their presence, you excused inwardly. You were always trained to be cautious in the face of the unknown, and that included the complicated world of diplomacy. You had known a Jedi all your life, but never a politician.

Yet Palpatine didn’t seem much like a politician to you. He was more akin to a kind old man. And that presence was probably what finally eased worries you didn’t even recognize you had.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he acknowledged.

Your cheeks brightened. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Chancellor,” you affably offered, presenting him with a bow gradual enough to quench any pockets of arid formalities. “My name is Silvey.”

“It is a joy to meet you, Silvey,” he exclaimed gently as you rose. “Are you a Jedi? Forgive me, but I’m not sure if I’ve seen your face before.”

Your smile remained genial, having become more comfortable with your assigned name and story in the face of questioning.

“I am, Chancellor. I have been on a years-long mission away from the Temple until recently.”

“Ah,” he vocalized. “Well, it’s marvelous to know that we have another Jedi here to support our Great Republic through this tragic conflict,” he sighed wearily, allowing his eyes to linger in melancholy.

You sympathized with the tender-hearted politician, offering him a sympathetic expression as his dutiful eyes raised to meet yours suddenly.

“Well,” he began with a greater punch. “I’m glad you’re using this time to socialize with Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi. Two of the best the Galaxy has to offer. Did you know each other before your mission?”

“In passing,” Obi-Wan piped up. “Though I’m sure we will all have the opportunity to learn more of each other as the war continues. Efforts to support the Republic often overlap.”

The Chancellor hummed sensibly. “Right as always, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine nodded toward him just before taking a brief yet lingering instant to rake his charming eyes over your complexion.

But soon, his gaze opened back up to the three of you.

“Well, I always wish to talk more with our galaxy’s greatest peacekeepers, but I must be going now. The Senate must be told to refrain from using the Temple’s communications system as soon as possible.”

The Chancellor angled back toward you more fully this time.

“I hope we will be able to speak more sometime soon. Any friend of Master Skywalker’s is a friend of mine, and I would enjoy hearing more about that mission of yours.”

You lightened further at his thoughtful words. “I would be honored, Chancellor.”

The elder gentlemen blinked at you kindly.

“And that goes for you too,” he extended toward the young Jedi beside you. “I’m looking forward to hearing about your adventures these past few months. Please, come by my office, anytime.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Anakin stated in a reverent monotone. “I will be sure to visit soon.”

“Good, good,” he proclaimed. “I will see you then.”

As he released those final mutterings, the Chancellor carefully began his shuffle forward, encouraging the three of you to step aside so that his band of politicians could once again reinstate their gradual progression back down the walkway. You watched them for a moment, their darkened robes catching the wind of each mercurial movement in a fashion similar to earlier as overlapping conversations and knocking footsteps prodded the hall’s previously calmed atmosphere.

“Silvey?” Obi-Wan prodded from behind.

You tilted toward the bearded Jedi, noticing his stitched brows aimed at the Council’s ancient wrist comm while you gazed at him expectantly.

“What time were you supposed to meet with Master Yoda?”

Your nose scrunched in thought as he rolled his arm toward you, revealing the barely perceptible, flickering green glow of the chronometer installed on the device. And as soon as you registered the numbers before you, your face dropped in realization.

“Oh, kriff,” you mumbled.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened incredulously. “Where did you learn that language?” He questioned, disbelief raining from his voice.

The gears turned behind his stare for only a moment before his expression dropped into a sharp gape toward his former Padawan.

“It wasn’t me!” Anakin whined, waiving his hand in rebuttal.

“We had the same Master, Obi-Wan,” you reminded as your focus shifted to the task at hand. Quickly, you began your short expedition away from the duo, down the same path from which Palpatine emerged, before deliberately pivoting on your heel and continuing your trek backward so to address the flummoxed Jedi.

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth lay agape as Anakin barely hid a chuckle from your sight.

Barely.

“And you’re not off the hook, Smarty,” you called back at him while picking up the pace of your inverse jog. “Being the reason I’m late and all.” A smirk scurried across your mouth. “Better train hard to prepare for the consequences.”

You narrowly caught the giddy lilt sparkling behind his eyes before spinning on your heel to now hasten into a run, assuaged and nimble enough to be accepted within your tranquil surroundings.

That was, until Anakin yelled his response toward your departing figure with a levity so tangible, that you could feel it through his voice nearly twenty meters away.

“I’ll be waiting, patiently!”

You grinned.

—

Your dimmed umber cloak thrashed like a land-fairing scalefish as you swiveled down another one of The Temple’s many outstretched and interconnected walkways. Only after a few more seconds and additional turns on that emerald green mezzanine did you finally allow your long-hurried pace to stifle when you discerned a memorable sight.

Just a dozen meters away, at the end of the hall’s extensively columned aerial vaults, reigned a gap in the upper back wall through which the afternoon’s blazing sun of Coruscant Prime flared with greeting. The sparkling golden light encircled two large gray pillars that supported the downward ceiling’s pitch, weaved past the hanging sage-tinted signs strung from gutters to announce your location, and poured over the gray stone edging fence that guided travelers toward the bifurcated staircase entryways leading to the training ground’s lower level.

You had learned quickly from your first mistake, when in search of the Sparring Arena to meet with Master Windu, you became quite immediately, and hopelessly, lost. Plunged into the labyrinth that was the Temple among a sea of occupied Jedi who further muddled the path.

But this time, you didn’t need Obi-Wan’s help. You appreciated his assistance, but knew that if you had any hope of being the best Guardian you could be, you needed to become self-sufficient. So this time, you chose to use the Jedi Archive’s resources and your own free time to search out the training grounds as soon as you learned of your impending appointment with the Grand Master on this very acreage.

Luckily, your short detour from the day before wasn’t in vain, having shaved off a few extra minutes from your reliably inflating tardiness.

Once the end of the outstretched walkway was reached, you were free to follow the creational illumination’s natural path, swiftly swerving about the garden wall and jogging down the L-shaped stairway to the foundation’s vast cream surface in hopes of making this important meeting somewhat on time.

Instantly, were plunged into Coruscant’s afternoon heat the moment your nimble toes met the smooth masonry, temporarily overcharging your senses as you acclimated to the strange sensation that penetrated each burnished boot. With eyes squinted and cheeks burning, you gazed up at the Coruscant sky, a cupped hand elevated for shade as you took in the baby blue and blanketed snow-like clouds that did little to shelter you from the giant star’s omnipresent intensity.

Having spent most of your life on a desolate, ice planet, you hadn’t had the opportunity to feel the blazing passion of such a powerfully dense sun directly on your prickling skin. It was a rather refreshing surprise, but still something that was quite foreign to you. You were sure that prolonged exposure would drain your physical energy far more fervently than your former asylum, yet you found the sight to be particularly bewitching, and undeniably beautiful.

Dragging your captivated eyes from the fresh encounter, you strolled toward the training ground’s center, observing the outdoor setting as you simultaneously searched for Master Yoda somewhere on the grounds.

Having not seen the nine hundred-year-old Jedi in your immediate scan of the alabaster-tinted array, you instead chose to use this brief opportunity to absorb your surroundings with greater care. Praying that you had not missed the gathering entirely as you did so.

Sauntering forward, you noticed that the arena was rather spacious, split into three graphed sectors with either end acting as a reflection to the other. Glancing to your left, you noticed a segmented instructional zone of sorts, comprised of three rectangular cedar murals of varying size. One was in use by a small batch of Initiates, engaged in a synchronized drill of dexterity. An assemblage of blue and green training sabers pigmented each of their whirling hands as they moved seamlessly before their instructor— an older Cosian, if you had to guess, recognizable by his tufted tail and leafy protruding beak. Beneath them, each depiction was etched with smearings of white powdered chalk, delineating circular footing guides, you assumed, as the younglings followed each curve with precise gradation.

You glimpsed ahead, wandering further as you perceived two protrusions on either side of the training ground’s back wall. They were elevated by at least four meters and adorned with switchback staircases, enabling the structures to prevail as alternative methods for exiting the faded grounds. You imagined they led to additional gated walkways that snaked into the Temple’s belly.

Altogether, the expanse’s high-walled design manufactured a basin of sorts, accented by the flushed blocky jade lamps that dotted every hallow crevice and drew attention to the surrounding orotund panels.

As you tugged your line of sight away from the surrounding architecture to the patch before you, you couldn’t help but become enthralled by the figure ahead. At the arena's nucleus stood a markedly enchanting presence. One which pulled at the very core of your inner current.

A twisting tree, its thick trunk dancing into each curved branch, loomed expansively from a patio that unfurled below. It stretched outwards, each branch seizing the sun’s parting energies far beyond your reach. Gold veins with ringed motifs winded up its quiet body, seemingly powering the amber, oblong leaves that adorned each ligneous finger in calm bundles.

Nearly instantaneously, it felt as if the rooted being was beckoning you forward from its home just beyond the set paltry stairs beneath you. Even the steps themselves appeared designed to usher in all who desired to know its secrets, with the apical sill acting as a lure mere inches from your feet. Soon, the faint aroma of Cardamom swirled past your nostrils from his intoxicating figure, further drawing your attention.

In those brief instances you took to descry the blossomed flora, you couldn’t help but feel the need to approach the botanical feat, feeling a strange yet embracing wrest toward its sparkling striped markings in particular. It was before your mind could fully register the action, when a sudden yet gradually vitalizing string, tied from your collarbone to the trunk's base, finally commanded your legs to assuredly promenade forward.

As you neared the colossal energy, treading beyond the staircase’s final step, your tie to each neighboring aura swelled exponentially. You could feel the fluxing vivacity of the younglings far behind you, and the compelling yet subdued strength of their instructor. Another step nourished the stream, empowering you to pinpoint wandering bodies in the nearest Temple halls, including the assembly of politicians still making their way through its winding pathways.

Promptly, your ceaseless strides brought your face within inches of the powerful beacon, its surging vigor drawing your eyelids to flutter closed while you extended a gentle hand to rest on its glossy bark. As your fingertips met its silky texture, you sensed an instant surge of breath in the form of thousands of tiny little life forms, binding into the nexus. Even ones as small as the avian creatures resting on distant rooftops, or the fleck-sized insects that trotted along a portion of the far wall in perfect harmony.

You delved deeper, exploring these fervently fluid impressions with greater absorption when a new, striking and formidable spirit gradually entered the fold, their pace sedated though consequential as they approached from behind. But despite sensing this new presence, you encountered pronounced difficulty in separating from the strength before you.

That was, until you heard their familiar voice. One that you had not heard since the Temple-wide meeting yesterday morning.

“Discovered The Great Tree, you have.”

Opening your eyes abruptly, you severed your interlaced connection with the tree’s amplifying flow before spinning toward the raspy voice. Your eyes instantly met the shorter, long-eared Jedi, elevated by his relaxed stance against a curved cane on the ground’s main platform above. The moment you steadied, you were quick to offer him a reflexive bow while inwardly chiding yourself for delaying him further.

“Yes,” you rapidly acknowledged before just as soon faltering, like a misstep in your footing.

You internally cycled through how to respond to the 900-year-old being for a moment too long as you fought the steadily rising panic. This was not the first impression you wanted to make. But you still needed to say something.

Relenting, you finally settled on a phrase you used way too often with Qui-Gon in your younger years. And something you had not planned to say ever again once your journey began.

“I apologize for my belatedness, Master Yoda,” you offered evenly. “I assure you, it will not happen again.”

The pepper-green Jedi hummed in thought, offering the environment a brief silence before leisurely idling down the stairway toward your figure. “Believe you, I do. Works in mysterious ways, the Force does. Led you to this tree, it has.”

Master Yoda ambled to a slow halt beside you, giving himself scope to gaze up at the natural wonder. He must have relished in the presence of the Great Tree many thousands of times in his long years at the Temple. Yet his reverent appearance gleamed with the radiance of discovering its pure artistry for the very first time. You admired that insight, so, hoping to see what his sagacious eyes discerned, you reproduced his venture into the tree’s depths.

“I feel a strong link to the Force when I’m near it,” you acknowledged aloud.

“An Uneti tree, you see before you. Imbued with the living Force, it is.”

Yes, of course. How could you have forgotten? Qui-Gon had told you that story many times. Of how all his life, he had never seen a real tree before, having spent his entire existence in the industrial world of Coruscant up to that point. That was, until his Master Dooku brought him to see one right here on these training grounds for the very first time. The famed golden tree that shone from the sheer will of the Force alone.

That was this Great Tree. The Uneti tree.

And much like Qui-Gon, this was your very first time seeing one too.

“Yet your connection feel, scarcely I did.”

A nervous pang brushed against your ribs as you absorbed his meaning. You continued to trace the monument’s golden veins with a penetrating stare, hoping to hide the resurgence of this particular doubt that had been clouding your mind since your session with Master Windu.

Why could no one truly sense your mental grapplings of the Force? It was possible that the Grand Master had answers to this persistent query.

“I don’t understand,” you stated earnestly.

The Master acknowledged your confession with an esophageal grunt. “Powerful, your mind is. Protected, it is, against searching powers. Taught you well, Qui-Gon has.”

Though, despite Master Yoda’s gentle praise, you couldn’t help the new flurry of numerous questions that knocked at the back of your mind like nosy neighbors.

This marked the second time a Master could only limitedly sense your signature, even when you weren’t attempting to bury your presence. In fact, after many years engaging in Force Stealth in an abundance of caution, you had finally taken a moment, an opportunity, to reach deeply into the Force when you felt its swirling openness around this tree. It was just as you did a few days prior, when you attempted to open your mind to the stern Master Windu. Yet again, despite the Force’s overwhelming circulation throughout these grounds, a Grand Master only a few meters away could barely sense your interaction with its rushing stream?

It didn’t make sense.

What stowed further disquiet, was his phrasing. Did he sense only the minimum zeal that all beings had within them? Would he not have believed you a Jedi without already knowing your mission?

What you did know, was that whichever readings were emanating off your life force, they were completely unintentional. How such a muted perception could be possible without purpose, you didn’t understand. But you were sure that, like always, you could rely on your meditation at a point later on to guide you through this mystery.

“Thank you, Master.”

Too entrenched in his own viewing of the Great Tree to respond, the wise Jedi steered purposefully toward its unwavering trunk, cane pecking a few times at the stone below as he maneuvered to flatten his palm and brawny three fingers against its satiny skin. His eyes drifted shut, brows creasing while he connected to the flow around him as you had just done moments ago.

As seconds elapsed, a slight breeze wheezed past the region, exciting the Great Tree’s leaves and tickling its twigs as a few golden flakes loosened and snapped from the cooling gust, sending them vacillating down to the feet of each idler.

“Powerful, as well, your sensitivity is,” he continued while his bridge with the atmosphere persisted. “22,300 Midichlorians, you have.”

You spun toward the Master, jaw slackened. Somewhat attempting to temper your stupefaction, you spoke quickly to the powerful Jedi entranced with the golden tree before you.

“Are you sure, Master? That seems way too high. From what I’ve read, most Jedi have around 10,000. That would be just over double the average.”

The senior Jedi gradually nurtured a thin smile, choosing this moment to disengage with the powerful being as he retracted his arm and feebly circled around, extending his now-opened eyes toward you.

“Checked three times, we did. Positive that you’re The Guardian, we are.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not just due to the skewed essence of your skills and your sensitivity, but by his locution.

“Is my role as The Guardian tied to my Midichlorian count?”

The Master vocalized his consideration through a guttural sigh as he shook his head at his own being.

“Measured your connection, I did, many years ago. The same it is now, as it was then.”

You nodded, remembering Obi-Wan mentioning the Master’s awareness of your existence prior to your parents’ deaths. Counting your Midichlorian count would certainly explain how you were discovered by both Yoda and your former Master, however separate their independent discoveries may have been.

But even after decades, after hearing again of his encounter with you as a very small youngling and when your parents were still alive, you couldn’t help the long-suppressed questions that still lingered infinitely. They were starting to bubble to the surface.

Who were your parents? What were they like? Did they look like you?

And what really happened to them? Were they from your native planet? And where was that? Was it nearby?

But deep down, you knew that these were questions ill-suited for a Grand Master who held non-attachment in such high esteem. Qui-Gon had warned you of that.

Though despite being devoid of the occasion for which to ask these questions, there was still one, relevant and nagging inquiry that ached behind your eyes.

“I hope to inquire, Master, but how did you know? That I was The Guardian and not The Chosen One, I mean.”

The Grand Master rested both hands atop his cane as he addressed you. “First the Defender and then the Chosen, the hidden prophecy says. Found you first, I had. As had Qui-Gon, we must assume. And born of a father, you were. Has not one, Anakin and The Chosen One.”

You tracked as the slope-eared Jedi angled to his left while finishing the last sentence, determinedly deciding to saunter back up the cursory steps behind you both. Interpreting this as an invitation to follow, you briskly moved, veering to stroll beside him and the hallow pricks of his intervallically pattering cane.

“I understand,” you confirmed while maintaining a measured gate. “I want to assure you, Master, that I will do my best to fulfill the needs of that role.”

An approving murmur escaped his gruff throat. “And as a member of The Order, you will.”

You casually glanced down at the Master, hope tingling at the tips of your fingers as you tried to maintain an impartial complexion.

“Gone through your Trials, you have already,” he recognized while his ambling progressed. “The nine steps, you have faced in those ten years on Hoth. Well-versed in control and sense, Master Windu says you are.”

Master Yoda nodded deliberately, a whirl of justifications seemed to flutter behind his rational eyes as he appraised some grand notion internally. It must have been something he was already considering, you decided, as those thoughts rapidly settled across his countenance, soon converging into one, adamant verdict,

“Grant you the rank of Knight, I will. Though no ceremony, may you have. Secret, your past must remain.”

You nodded, allowing that shred of disappointment to whither back into the trail of Force shimmering behind your walking figure. In turn, you endeavored to focus on the honor of your new title.

Sacrificing was part of the job description. You knew that. But it didn’t mean that missing out on the same milestones that every other Jedi experienced couldn’t still affect you.

But, as always, you projected objectivity.

“I understand, Master. Thank you.”

His head bobbed faintly. “A Master, you must still have. Extended his services, Master Windu has.”

You chewed over his words in the pregnant lull that followed, filled only with the light taps of his cane, your gentle footfalls, and the distant, echoing maneuvers of the younglings following their muttering instructor’s guidance.

It was impossible to ignore the surprise that bounced around your skull. From what you recalled of your short time together, Master Windu didn’t seem to be that fond of your presence. Sure, it was clear that he appreciated your professionalism and attentiveness, and you likewise admired his dedication. But you believed from his austerity and Obi-Wan’s warnings, that you weren’t exactly the one person he wanted to spend more time with.

This was, of course, in addition to the downright fact that no one, not even a Jedi as powerful as Mace Windu, could replace your late Master. He would always be your guide. Your own protector. And you were certainly not ready to give away that title.

Not yet.

Especially when you were no longer the Padawan that needed to be assigned a Master.

Especially, when his death still felt so fresh.

“I’m honored by the offer,” you began. “But I am already a Knight, and Qui-Gon was already my Master. I’m not certain if it would be…”

You gave your next uttering careful thought.

“Appropriate.”

An appreciative, gravelly hum escaped the wise man’s throat. “Understand this, I do. Loyal to your past Master, you are,” he remarked thoughtfully. “But maintain appearances, we must.”

The wise Jedi peered at you, injecting a sense of submerged understanding into the drifting Force that encircled you both.

“Always your Master, Qui-Gon will be. Act only as an advisor, Master Windu will, while you adapt to The Order and the war. But be your Master to others, he shall be. Your connection to Qui-Gon a secret, it must remain. Tied to The Chosen One in death, he was.”

Again, the Grand Master repeated that private affirmation of his head to his innermost musings.

“And distance from Anakin, you should temporarily keep.”

Your brows furrowed marginally as you inquisitively studied the peppered green Jedi.

“Master?”

How were you supposed to protect The Chosen One if you weren’t allowed to be near him?

“Interact in the Temple, you may. But important, a short separation on the battlefield, is.”

The Jedi faltered mid-step, prompting you to halt as he tottered to face your taller form with a pensive dip in the brows.

“Hidden, your true nature, must remain, from Separatist and darker forces alike. A weakness in war, the Republic cannot have.”

“But they must know of Anakin’s identity,” You pointed out.

The elder Jedi ostensibly agreed. “Right, you are. But clear to both sides, The Chosen One prophecy is. Dark the looking glass, The Guardian’s role makes.”

You observed Master Yoda’s eyes gently wander beyond your figure as he sketched some ambiance of lively motion to your rear. Tracing his line of sight, you rotated toward the youngling drill that had continued through your conversation.

A moment of calm entered the space, briefly interrupted by another crisp puff of breeze against your tingling arms as the two of you looked on. A distant bird of some delineation poured out an eddy of melodies, painting the heavens with peppy pleadings known only to its innermost heart.

As minutes slipped by, and the two of you stood in subsisted temporary reticence, Master Yoda’s trained vision endured on the premeditative, processional aerobatics before him. However, no matter his concentration, one fleeting glance to your lower right was quick to reveal that the Grand Master was still transfixed by his innermost ruminations, ingrained deep within his ceaseless exploration of the Force.

“Still, learn about Anakin you must,” he breathed heavily while both of you monitored the younglings lunge through an underhand swipe, followed by a summersault parry as they twirled around invisible, sprightly opponents.

“Assign you to Master Kenobi’s missions once the Jedi are deployed again, we will. Learn about The Chosen One through his former Master’s teachings, you may. Understand his past, you must. Know him well, he does.”

Your longstanding grasp of The Guardian’s journey was dictated by the obligation to always be by his side. To always be there to protect him from the dark forces he is meant to destroy. It was something you felt cavernously in each one of your bones.

But in this moment, you were beginning to agree with the Master; finding it just as necessary to dedicate yourself to comprehending his history. The past that molded him into the Jedi he is today.

It was quite possible, that you would have failed to reach this conclusion had it not been for this morning’s experience in conjunction with the past few days’ interactions. Compared to all the other Jedi you’d read about, Anakin would certainly be classified as an enigma. His past was far more sullied than the greats of recent history. And while you were beginning to understand him more than you originally expected, you knew that there was still much to learn of that realm.

Hopefully, Obi-Wan would have the insight you lacked. You could already think of a few questions that you wanted to ask him, namely why occurrences like this morning’s were not quite properly addressed by his former Master.

But with all that aside, you couldn’t deny the more personal reason for finding hope in this arrangement. A few weeks or months working side-by-side with one of Qui-Gon’s past Padawans was sure to aid you in your own loitering convalescence from his death.

Besides, you were beginning to enjoy Master Kenobi’s company.

You recalled the past week. How you felt heartened by the gentleness of his guidance in the club the night before. And how you were beginning to value that again and again, Obi-Wan never failed to lend you a helping hand when you needed it most.

You wanted to explore these sensibilities further, first noting how open you’d become to appreciating his humor, and how he maintained it in even the most dire or upbeat of circumstances together. Despite the frequency with which it was at Anakin’s expense. But you could easily tell, in those snapshot moments, that it was all the more evidence of Obi-Wan’s fondness for his former Padawan. And you were certainly amused, at times, by how he showed it.

Most importantly, you were utterly convinced that you could count on him in a pinch. He’d saved your life once, and you knew you could trust him to be by your side again. Enough to put his own life on the line to defend yours.

Just as he did on Hoth, when Obi-Wan precariously dangled from the shuttle’s jagged doorway to grab your desperate, nearly lost hand.

And that warmed you.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Master Yoda. I will learn as much as I can.”

The two of you swayed tranquilly as another gust of cooling wind tickled a loose hair strand against your ear. You embraced this moment to study the younglings who maintained a neutral stance, training sabers in various arrays of readiness while they listened carefully to the Cosian Master as he explained their next activity in a faint voice. He was quick in finishing his elucidation, however, as the younglings readied to lean into their dominant foot, setting up for the impending motion.

Suddenly, a moderately sharp throb cautiously nudged at your forehead, mildly tapping like a pesky, repetitive din.

You brushed it off, deciding to instead anchor yourself on the drill ahead. It fascinated you, the absolute coexistence of their movements, which flowered between them through their complete connectivity to the environment. The troop rolled into their dominant side, following through as the back of their shoulder blade met the floor and propelled them once again into a standing, lunged position, all while maneuvering their sabers around each wheeling youngling. It was quite impressive, for Initiates so young. It was a move whose complication…

Another piercing spear at your forehead’s center, this time radiated out toward your sinuses like lightning desperately squeezed to ground itself. Your skull brimmed with pressure at each subsequent twinge. Somehow, the once insignificant throbs were quite rapidly transforming into an unpleasant nuisance. So much so, that you couldn’t help but massage your temples in stiff circles as you strived to lessen the distinct sting in your observance of the drill.

“Well, are you not?” Master Yoda inquired as he seemed to sense your discomfort.

You lowered your hands. “I’m alright, Master. I think I overexerted myself earlier, and I’m probably not yet quite used to this heat,” you gesticulated toward the beaming sun that still, surprisingly, felt like a comforting brush to your exposed skin.

“Rest, young Silvey,” he advised while pivoting toward your figure, motivating you to turn on your heel and face his center-held staff. “Strong in the coming weeks, you must be. Sense a shift in the Force, I do.”

You acknowledged the Jedi’s wise words before tilting into a gentle bow, permitting your body to salvage any extra energy in its small battle against your pervasive migraine.

“Thank you, Master,” you rose evenly. “Your guidance is much appreciated.”

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tennessoui · 1 year ago

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Are there say do-overs where Ahsoka thinks she's cracked it? Like she truly banishes Anakin to the edge of the galaxy and she's alert but the war doesn't happen and she's settling in, actually relaxing and enjoying herself, a little but emotional at seeing Master Kenobi fulfill his potential on the council even though he's somehow a little wistful...and then BAM he's calling her up to say goodbye because he was kidnapped by space pirates and has decided to reform them and she can see straight up adult twins behind him and he's still throwing his life away at 60 to adopt adult children and be with their pirate King father who he is still really weird about

lol honestly I think something like that could very easily happen, right, but as soon as Ahsoka hears about this and sees them connecting, she resets.

meanwhile, this is a combination that works. No war. Anakin is a smuggler pirate whatever and Jedi Obi-Wan is physically taken away non-consensually from his Jedi responsibilities so he puts up a fight but his choice was taken away (and so easy to make without guilt)

which means he can fall in love with pirate anakin easy as

and there’s no war!! This would have worked! It would have been fine!! But Ahsoka sees them being weird and immediately resets the universe because her eyes are focused on them together and not on the good of the galaxy

#asks #obikin #time traveler Ahsoka au #like one of many AUs like this I think #where she’s so hyper fixated on this #so she doesn’t even realize there’s no war #and they technically won

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ljones41 · 8 months ago

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Looking Back at "STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS" (2008-2020)

LOOKING BACK AT "STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS" (2008-2020)

Lucasfilm's 2008-2020 animated series, "STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS" had become a big favorite among fans of the STAR WARS franchise over the past decade-and-a-half. Set during the tail end of the Prequel Trilogy, many fans regard it as superior to the three movies produced and directed by George Lucas between 1999 and 2005. Not only that, many regarded it as a necessity for STAR WARS to understand that particular trilogy. After viewing it, I can honestly say that I do not agree with these fans.

Fans had expressed two other opinions about "THE CLONE WARS", aside from it being superior to the Prequel Trilogy movies and being needed to understand it. They still believe it did a better job of conveying Anakin Skywalker's journey from loyal Jedi Knight to the young Sith apprentice who had betrayed his former Order. Many fans had also complained that the animated series did something that the Prequel Trilogy had failed to do - namely convey a full narrative of the Clone Wars.

Disagreement Over Prevailing View

When I had stated that I did not agree with the prevailing view of "THE CLONE WARS", I meant it. Do not get me wrong. Overall, I liked it. I especially enjoyed those story arcs that centered around the clone troopers, especially the story about ARC Trooper Fives in Season Six. But there were other story arcs that I found interesting - including the one regarding Jedi padawans Ahsoka Tano and Barriss Offee, and Count Dooku's conflict with his former apprentice, Asajj Ventress. The latter proved to be one of two characters introduced by "THE CLONE WARS" that I enjoyed watching. I also became a big fan of the cunning, yet hilarious space pirate known as Hondo Ohnaka. But I never became a major fan of "THE CLONE WARS".

Unlike many fans and critics, I never regarded the series as better than the Prequel Trilogy. Just about every STAR WARS production I have seen (movies or television) had its share of flaws. Personally, I believe "THE CLONE WARS" had suffered from more flaws than the Prequel or Original Trilogies. The two trilogies served as parts of a saga about the Force-sensitive Skywalker family, with the Clone Wars, the decline of the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic, along with the Galactic Civil War serving as the saga's backgrounds. For me, "THE CLONE WARS" was like watching a series that could not make up its mind about its main narrative or theme. The only aspect about "THE CLONE WARS" that seemed to be consistent was its setting - the three-year civil war withing the Galactic Republic known as the Clone Wars. Otherwise, the series spiraled into different arcs and stories with very little connection - whether they were about the war itself; the decline of both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic; the downfall of Anakin Skywalker; the development of his Jedi apprentice, Ahsoka Tano; the Mandalorian Civil War, which involved Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi; the re-emergence of Maul, former Sith apprentice of Darth Sidious; and other arcs that centered around characters like Count Dooku aka Darth Tyrannus, Asajj Ventress, the Mandalorian clone Boba Fett and especially the clone troopers.

A Necessity?

Since many fans and critics had claimed that viewing "THE CLONE WARS" was a necessity in understanding the Prequel Trilogy. Really? Why? I do not understand that opinion. The reason I do not understand it is because I never had any trouble understanding the Prequel Trilogy. As I had stated earlier, I realized that it was mainly about the downfall of Anakin Skywalker, in which the Clone Wars and the downfalls of both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic played major roles. I get the feeling that many had wanted the Prequel Trilogy to be more about the Clone Wars, instead of the Skywalker family saga.

If that is how they feel, why not complain about the Original Trilogy's limited portrayal of the Galactic Civil War? It seemed to me that the Original Trilogy seemed more about Luke Skywalker, his circle of companions, and his father Anakin Skywalker aka Darth Vader more than the actual civil war that served as the trilogy's background. Perhaps Lucasfilm should create a series that feature numerous stories and character arcs set during the Galactic Civil War? Especially the four-year period between 1977's "STAR WARS: A NEW HOPE" and 1983's "STAR WARS: RETURN OF THE JEDI"? Sure, there have been productions about the early years of the rebellion - before the events of "A NEW HOPE". But these productions have only appeared in the last ten years. And they were released or aired as individual productions, not the sprawling monolith that became "THE CLONE WARS". But I did not need these productions to understand the Original Trilogy anymore than I needed "THE CLONE WARS" to understand the Prequel Trilogy.

Portrayal of Anakin Skywalker

If "THE CLONE WARS" was supposed to be a production that helped fans understand the Prequel Trilogy, who was the series' main character? Seriously. Was it Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker? If so, I was not impressed by the series' portrayal of the character. Many have claimed that Anakin's portrayal in "THE CLONE WARS" was an improvement over his portrayal in the Prequel Trilogy. I do not agree with this assessment. In fact, I found Anakin's portrayal in the animated series rather troubling. One, he seemed to be a cross between a juvenile delinquent and a borderline Sith Lord. There were moments when the series seemed to be rushing him toward his role as Darth Sidious' Sith apprentice . . . before the events of 2005's "STAR WARS: REVENGE OF THE SITH".

The 2005 movie's first half hour had revealed Anakin's continuing guilt over his massacre of the Tusken Raiders who had killed his mother Shmi Skywalker in 2002's "STAR WARS: ATTACK OF THE CLONES". Not only did Anakin experience three years of guilt over that act, but also expressed regret for killing Darth Sidious' previous apprentice, Count Dooku aka Darth Tyrannus, when the latter was defenseless in "REVENGE OF THE SITH". Anakin even managed to express both horror and disgust for helping Sidious kill Jedi Master Mace Windu in the movie's last half hour. Following the Jedi Master's death, Anakin had ceased to feel any genuine remorse over those he had killed. However, "THE CLONE WARS" was set during the three years between "ATTACK OF THE CLONES" and "REVENGE OF THE SITH". And yet, I cannot recall the series ever conveying any of the guilt Anakin had felt toward his destruction of the Tusken village. Between that (over which he had felt guilt) and his roles in Dooku and Windu's death (which he had express regret and horror respectively), Anakin had harmed a good deal of individuals in "THE CLONE WARS" without any regret or remorse. This seems very odd to me to this day.

For me, the Anakin Skywalker of "THE CLONE WARS" seemed to be some Force sensitive version of Han Solo. In fact, someone had once given Anakin the nickname, "Jedi Han Solo". Many fans had complimented the character for his lack of whining and being more powerful. If these same fans were referring to Anakin's bouts of whining in "ATTACK OF THE CLONES", then what the hell were they expecting from a nineteen year-old padawan? Complete self-assurance? Some James Dean version of Anakin Skywalker? Well, instead of James Dean, they got some variation on Han Solo. And Anakin's attitude toward Padme seemed completely different from his relationship with her in the Prequel movies. Aside from that ugly moment in "REVENGE OF THE SITH" when Anakin had been blinded by unsubstantiated jealousy, he had never been aggressive toward Padme in the movies. The Anakin of the movies would have never tried to control Padme or dominate her the way he did in "THE CLONE WARS"'s Season One finale, (1.22) "Hostage Crisis" in which he tried to convince (in reality, coerce) her to stop work in order to provide him with "tender loving care" during his furlough. The cinematic Anakin would have shown more respect toward his wife. And as for that whole "Mortis" from Season Three . . . oh God! Why did Lucasfilm believe it was necessary to shove some ham-fisted narrative about Anakin bringing balance to the Force? I realize I should go into more detail about this particular arc. Needless to say, I did not care for it. It was like watching a series of over-the-top metaphors and allegories flashing before my eyes. And as I had earlier stated, I found it necessary. One has only have to observe Anakin's personality and his arc to notice the complicated nature of his character.

Ahsoka Tano

Then . . . Lucasfilm gave Anakin a padawan learner - a Togruta female named Ahsoka Tano, who was five years younger than him. Why did the Jedi Council assign a padawan for Anakin to train so soon after becoming a Knight? Yes, the Council had allowed the newly knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi to serve as Anakin's new Jedi mentor near the end of "STAR WARS: THE PHANTOM MENACE". But Anakin's recruitment into the Jedi Order and his role as Obi-Wan's new apprentice had occurred under unusual circumstances, due to a promise the latter had made to his dying former Jedi master, Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan had chosen to take on a new apprentice at the ripe age of 25. He had not been ordered to accept a padawan learner, like Anakin. Who had been 19 to 20 years old at the time . . . and recently knighted like his former mentor. Why did the Jedi Council, whose opinion of Anakin had always seemed to be in a state of wariness, had assigned a padawan to him? Why did Lucasfilm? If they had wanted Ahsoka to be one of the series' major character so badly, why not make her Obi-Wan's next padawan?

Now that I think about it, why bother creating the Ahsoka Tano character in the first place? In "THE CLONE WARS", Ahsoka had been close to Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padmé. Yet, the trio and NO ONE ELSE had mentioned her in "REVENGE OF THE SITH". I realize that the 2005 movie had been created first. But if no one had mentioned Ahsoka, someone who had been so close to Anakin, what was the fucking point in creating her for "THE CLONE WARS"/? Or . . . what was the point in making her Anakin's padawan? And it is a damn miracle that her character never became a Mary Sue. At least not completely. Ahsoka had made her share of mistakes throughout the series. But considering that she seemed to be the only Force user capable of using two lightsabers at the same time, I sometimes found myself wondering otherwise.

By the time "THE CLONE WARS" ended, I found myself wondering who was supposed to be the series' main character. Did the series actually have a main character? No one was more surprised than myself to discover that the series' last eight episodes focused on Ahoska Tano. After all, her character had left the Jedi Order in the Season Five finale, (5.20) "The Wrong Jedi". She never appeared in Season Six. I had assumed that Season Five was the last viewers would see of Ahsoka. Oh no. She came back with a vengeance and practically dominated Season Seven. The latter had twelve episodes. Out of those twelve episodes, four of them featured Ahosoka's adventures with a pair of smugglers known as the Martez sisters and the last four centered on her experiences with Darth Maul and Order 66. Eight out of twelve fucking episodes. At this time in the story, Ahsoka was no longer a Jedi - padawan or otherwise. Why did Lucasfilm and Dave Filoni thought it was necessary to bring her back and allow her to dominate the series' final season? Why was it necessary for us to see Ahsoka survive Order 66 at a time when she had not been a Jedi since the end of Season Five? After all, she was alive and well in "STAR WARS: REBELS", the series set right before the Original Trilogy. And once Order 66 began, the clone troopers not only targeted Ahsoka, but also . . . a captured Maul. WHY? In the name of God, why would the clone troopers target two people who were not a part of the Jedi Order?

Other Characters

*Darth Maul - What made the series' final season so problematic for me was not only did it focus heavily on Ahsoka Tano, but also Maul, Darth Sidious' former Sith apprentice. After being defeated and cut down by Obi-Wan Kenobi in "THE PHANTOM MENACE", the Nightsister Mother Talzin resurrected him and he became obsessed with the man who struck him down. How can I put this? I believe Darth Maul should have remained dead. I realize George Lucas had plans for his resurrection in the Sequel Trilogy films, but I do not care. I was never able to generate any real interest in his arc, following his resurrection in "THE CLONE WARS". And I found his arc in both "THE CLONE WARS" and "REBELS" and death in the latter series, an exercise in futility.

*Padmé Amidala - Thanks to Ahsoka Tano's presence in "THE CLONE WARS", Padmé ended up being regulated to one of the series' supporting characters. Granted, the series featured the occasional episode about her missions for the Galactic Senate or some political situation, her relationship with Anakin barely received any attention, aside from the Clovis arc . . . or perhaps one or two other. I am not sure. Nevertheless, I believe the heavy focus on Anakin's relationship with Ahsoka came at the expense of his continuing relationship with Padmé. I have one other issue with Padmé. I did not find her as interesting as I did in the Prequel movies. It seemed as if a good deal of her complexity had been stripped away.

*Obi-Wan Kenobi - It seemed to me that the young Jedi Master did not suffer from underexposure on the same level as Padmé Amidala. As one of the military leaders of the clone troopers, it only seemed natural that his character was focused upon. For me, Obi-Wan's most interesting arc proved to be the Mandalorian rebellion and his relationship with the pacifist leader, Duchess Satine Kryze. It seemed like the only time Obi-Wan came close to being the complex man he had been in the films. Otherwise, the Jedi Master spent most of "THE CLONE WARS" being portrayed as this ideal character. If Obi-Wan had truly been the ideal character many have claimed he was, I would have found him boring. Uninteresting. And Obi-Wan has never been boring to me in the films produced by George Lucas.

*The Jedi Order Council - My memories of the Council seemed to be a bit sketchy, aside from two arcs. I do recall arc that Jedi Master Mace Windu played a major role in an arc about him and Jar-Jar Binks rescuing a queen from a cult headed by the Nightsisters' former leader, Mother Talzin. Somewhat. And there was the late Season Six arc that featured Jedi Master Yoda exploring the origin of the Force and through a series of visions, discovering the true nature of the Clone Wars, the possibility of the Jedi Order's downfall and later, its resurrection. This particular arc seemed like nothing more than a ham-fisted attempt at foreshadow. Also, Yoda's conclusions following this arc seemed to contradict his actions during the last act of "REVENGE OF THE SITH" - namely his attempt to kill Darth Sidious.

*The Sith Order - I suppose I have no real complaints about the portrayal of the Sith Order in this series. Count Dooku's character seemed more fully explored in "THE CLONE WARS" than it did in the second and third Prequel movies. Darth Sidious remained a shadowy figure at this point in the series. I found his constant evil smiles (when no one was looking) rather annoying after two or three episodes. Hell, I can only recall this happening once in "REVENGE OF THE SITH". If there was one story arc regarding Sidious that I truly dislike was the Season Two episode, (2.19) "The Zillo Beast Strikes Back". The Sith's decision to entrap a dangerous Zillo beast and study it escaped to the streets of Coruscant struck me as one of dumbest ever made by a Sith Lord. Especially once as intelligent as Sidious.

*Cad Bane - I might as well say it. I dislike the Cad Bane character. No . . . I despise him. I despise his faux Southern accent. I despise that ridiculous hat that he wears. But what I really despise about Cad Bane was how George Lucas, Dave Filoni and Henry Gilroy made him such a tough adversary for the Jedi characters. Despite being a ruthless, yet greedy bounty hunter with a fast draw, Bane has been able to defeat powerful Jedi characters like Anakin and Obi-Wan . . . despite lacking any Force abilities. This guy was practically a villainous Gary Stu. And I never thought I would actually see one in a television series, let alone a movie.

I could go on about many other characters in "THE CLONE WARS", but my main issues with "THE CLONE WARS" seemed to be mainly focused on the series' narrative. Many of the stories and arcs rarely connected, if not at all. And I am at a loss on how this was supposed to help filmgoers understand the Prequel Trilogy. Perhaps many STAR WARS were unable to understand the Trilogy's main narrative. But I did. I was also aware that both the Original and Prequel Trilogies were part of the Skywalker family saga. Events and conflicts like the decline of the Galactic Republic, the Clone Wars, the fall of the Jedi Order, the ascension of the Sith Order, the rise of the Galactic Empire, the rise of the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Civil War all served as backdrops for the family saga. While many fans had criticized the Prequel Trilogy for not focusing more on the Clone Wars, these same fans praised the actual series for doing just that.

The Prequel Trilogy was basically three chapters in the Skywalker family saga. Not two or three chapters in the detailed account of the Clone Wars. All one has to do is watch the Original Trilogy movies and see how the Galactic Civil War had merely served as a backdrop for another set of chapters in the Skywalker family saga. Yet, I do not recall anyone demanding a television series or a collection of movies depicting that particular conflict in greater detail - to the point of excluding the main characters of the family saga.

Once I had complained about the sprawling nature of "THE CLONE WARS"'s narrative online. Someone had pointed out that it explained the series' rarely connected arcs and stories was an indication that it was an anthology series. Strangely enough, I have yet to encounter a website that includes that description for the series. A part of me suspects that Lucas, Filoni and Gilroy had created "THE CLONE WARS" to satisfy those fans who had expected Lucasfilm to convey the conflict in full detail in the Prequel Trilogy. I find this laughable, because the Galactic Civil War had never been portrayed in full detail in the Original Trilogy.

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norcumii · 10 months ago

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Me: Huh. This Maid Maleen fairy tale is neat, I don’t think I’ve run into it before. I wonder if I can adapt this to fic.

Also me: UUUUUGGGGGHHHH, this whole seven-year separation thing is not working for me at all, it smacks of the post-Order 66 vibes and do not waaaaaaant what idiot thought this was a good idea?

(But seriously: Obi-Wan gets caught canoodling – or excessively flirting, or gets caught in that One Moment of a Chivalrous Hand Kiss™, or whatever – with your choice of love interest; Palpatine goes “You’re too useful to court martial/execute for breaking regulations LUCKY FOR YOU and unlucky for me so instead I’m sending you on a special mission hunting down [Separatist/villain of choice]. Don’t come back without their head!” and then Palps immediately sends a memo to [Separatist/villain of choice] telling them to book it for the hills don’t come back.

7 years later

Obi-Wan and his crew, either half-pirate or half stylishly-working-with-the-Chiss-now, stagger back into Coruscant space.

Kenobi: *tosses down [Separatist/villain of choice]’s head* Ok, finally got ‘em.

Everyone else: You’re not dead?!?!?!

Kenobi: Wait, what do you MEAN, the chancellor was a Sith Lord??? Oh, not the Chancellor, the Fir – WHAT DO YOU MEAN, “THE FIRST EMPEROR”????

and then somehow you have to work in rediscovering his Roëmænce Partnær and how that falls out.

I do not have enough Skillz for this, but it IS an annoyingly tempting plunnie.)

#star wars #fairy tales #writing problems #fic ideas #plunnie for adoption #not it

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star-wars-writing · 10 months ago

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Galactic Tides of Fortune

A/N: Embark on an adventure through the stars with two of the most iconic characters from the Star Wars universe, reimagined as daring space pirates. This story blends action, intrigue, and unexpected alliances, set against the backdrop of a galaxy far, far away. Please note that while this is a work of fanfiction, all original characters and settings belong to the Star Wars franchise. I hope you enjoy this interstellar journey for @codywanbingo. I combined the prompts: Date night and double date, since it's a lot similar I suppose.

In the uncharted expanse of space, where stars whispered secrets across light-years and black holes hummed with the symphony of the cosmos, lawlessness reigned supreme. Here, in this interstellar wilderness, the rules of civilized worlds bent and broke under the weight of freedom and anarchy.

The galaxy, a canvas of endless night punctuated by the diamond-like sparkle of distant suns, stretched infinitely in every direction. Nebulae swirled in vibrant hues, painting the void with strokes of cosmic artistry. Asteroids drifted lazily, their jagged surfaces telling tales of ancient collisions. Comets streaked past, their icy tails shimmering like celestial veils.

In this boundless arena, space pirates roamed like phantoms. Their ships, cobbled together from scavenged parts and stolen technology, were as diverse as the crews they housed. Some were sleek, predatory vessels that sliced through the darkness; others were hulking behemoths, patchworked with armor and bristling with illegal weaponry. They slipped through asteroid fields and lurked near unstable wormholes, waiting to pounce on unwary travelers or intercept precious cargo.

The void was alive with the silent echoes of their conquests – the crackle of blaster fire, the roar of engines in hot pursuit, the final sigh of a ship succumbing to the vacuum. These pirates were the ghosts of space, elusive and feared, bound by no law but their own.

On distant planets and remote space stations, tales of their exploits were traded like currency. In shadowy taverns and bustling marketplaces, people spoke in hushed tones about the latest daring heist or the most wanted outlaw. There was an air of grudging respect, a recognition of the harsh freedom these space-faring renegades represented.

Yet, amidst the anarchy, there was a code – unspoken, yet understood by all who navigated this starlit underworld. It was a code of survival, of honor among thieves, and the unyielding pursuit of fortune. In the vastness of space, where empires rose and fell like the tides of the oceans on distant, forgotten worlds, these pirates were the only constant, their stories woven into the fabric of the galaxy itself.

As distant suns set on alien horizons and the cold embrace of space wrapped around the countless worlds, the pirates continued their endless dance. It was a dance of shadows and light, of danger and desire, played out against the backdrop of a universe both beautiful and unforgiving.

***

In the depths of the cosmos, aboard the Midnight Mirage, a vessel as enigmatic as its captain, Obi-Wan Kenobi stood with an air of composed anticipation. The ship, a sleek phantom against the star-speckled blackness, hummed quietly, as if resonating with the heartbeat of the universe itself. Obi-Wan, a figure both revered and feared in the pirate underworld, carried a reputation that seemed to stretch as far and wide as the galaxy itself. He was known not just for his strategic brilliance but also for his unyielding honor – a rarity in the lawless reaches of space.

Around him, his crew – Plo, Quinlan, Mace, and Tholme – moved with a fluidity that spoke of countless hours spent under his command. They were more than just subordinates; they were disciples of his unique brand of leadership, each reflecting a facet of his complex persona.

Plo, at navigation, was the calm to Obi-Wan's storm. His steady hands guided the Midnight Mirage through asteroid fields and nebulae with an ease that belied the dangers of such maneuvers. "Captain, we're nearing the Dalmar Sector. Sensors are picking up faint, anomalous signals," he reported, his voice a steady thrum in the quiet of the bridge.

Quinlan, manning communications, had a spark in his eyes that mirrored the stars outside. His wit was as quick as his skills, a balance of levity and expertise. "Could be our prize, or could be trouble. With our luck, probably a bit of both," he quipped, casting a sidelong glance at Obi-Wan, whose response was a slight, knowing smile.

Mace, overseeing the ship's defenses, exuded a quiet strength. Her vigilance was a silent promise of protection, a shield against the unpredictability of space. "Defenses are primed. Whatever's out there, we're ready for it," she assured, her voice carrying the unspoken bond of trust that she shared with her captain and crewmates.

Tholme, the quiet observer, monitored the ship's vital systems. His hands moved with a precision that spoke of deep familiarity with the Midnight Mirage's heart and soul. His role was less conspicuous but no less crucial, ensuring their survival in the unforgiving vacuum of space.

Together, they were a microcosm of the galaxy's diversity – different worlds, different stories, all converging under the banner of the Midnight Mirage. The crew's synergy was a testament to Obi-Wan's leadership, his ability to unify disparate elements into a cohesive, formidable force.

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on the star map, his mind weaving through strategies and possibilities. His crew watched him, their expressions a mix of respect and anticipation. In him, they saw not just a captain, but a mentor, a guardian, a beacon in the vastness of space. His decisions were not just commands; they were lessons in survival, in resilience, in the art of navigating the treacherous tides of the galaxy.

As the Midnight Mirage glided closer to the source of the signals, the tension on the bridge was palpable, yet there was an underlying current of excitement. They were on the brink of something monumental, a discovery that could redefine their place in the cosmos. And at the helm stood Obi-Wan Kenobi, the pirate, the strategist, the legend, guiding them into the unknown with the unwavering certainty of a star guiding ships through the night.

****

Meanwhile, in another quadrant of the same star-strewn expanse, the Crimson Corsair, a ship as formidable and audacious as its captain, sliced through space. Commander Cody, at the helm, was a figure of commanding presence, his gaze fixed on the sea of stars before him. His reputation was the stuff of legend in the pirate circles – a master tactician, known for his daring raids and unshakable resolve. He was a captain who navigated the chaotic waves of space with the precision of a seasoned seafarer.

Cody's crew — Rex, Wolffe, Ponds, Fives, and Echo — operated with a well-oiled efficiency that spoke of their deep respect and unwavering loyalty to their captain. They were not just a crew; they were a band of brothers, each battle-hardened and fiercely dedicated.

Rex, the first mate, approached Cody with a datapad in hand. "We're closing in on the Dalmar Sector, Captain. The readings are consistent with the intel we received," he reported, his tone firm yet laced with an undercurrent of excitement.

Cody's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, scanned the data. His mind, a strategic map, plotted their course with meticulous care. "Prepare for a stealth approach. If our information is correct, we're not the only ones after this prize," he said, his voice carrying the gravel of experience.

Wolffe, handling the ship's armaments, nodded in acknowledgment. "Weapons are at the ready, Captain. We'll give them a run for their money if it comes to it," he declared, his hand instinctively resting on the console.

Ponds, the navigator, adjusted their trajectory, his movements precise and deliberate. "Stealth mode engaged. We'll be a ghost in the stars," he affirmed, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Fives and Echo, stationed at communications and engineering respectively, shared a glance. There was an unspoken bond between them, a shared history that had seen them through the darkest of times. "All systems are optimal. We're ready for whatever this sector has in store for us," Echo stated, his voice a steady beacon amidst the anticipation that filled the air.

The Crimson Corsair moved silently, a shadow against the cosmic canvas. Cody's crew watched him, their gazes reflecting a mix of admiration and readiness. In him, they saw not just a leader but a symbol of their own resilience, a reminder of the paths they had traversed and the battles they had won.

As they neared their destination, Cody's thoughts were a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies. He knew the risks, the perils that lurked in the uncharted territories of space. Yet, there was a thrill in the challenge, a fire that burned in the heart of every space pirate – the relentless pursuit of fortune, of glory, of the unattainable.

Rex studied his captain, seeing the gears turning in his mind. He knew that beneath Cody's stoic exterior was a maelstrom of determination and cunning. "We're with you, Captain. Through every star and storm," he said, his voice a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.

The Crimson Corsair continued its silent voyage, a spectral vessel on a collision course with destiny. At its helm stood Commander Cody, the pirate, the visionary, the indomitable spirit, leading his crew into the heart of the unknown, where the secrets of the Dalmar Sector awaited, shrouded in the mystery of the cosmos.

***

As the *Midnight Mirage* glided through the void, an air of expectancy permeated its confines. Obi-Wan Kenobi, his eyes reflecting the distant galaxies, received the transmission that set their new course. The message, encrypted and subtle, spoke of an artifact of immense power and value, hidden within the Dalmar Sector.

Plo, upon hearing the news, couldn't mask the flicker of excitement in his eyes. "This could be the breakthrough we've been searching for," he said, his voice a mix of hope and caution.

Obi-Wan, ever the contemplative leader, pondered the implications. "Yes, but such power will attract others. We must be prepared for that inevitability." His words carried the weight of experience, a reminder of the countless dangers they had faced in their quest for such relics.

Quinlan grinned, the thrill of the chase evident in his demeanor. "A little competition never hurt, eh, Captain?" he quipped, though his eyes betrayed the understanding of the risks involved.

Mace nodded, her thoughts aligned with her captain's strategic mindset. "It's not just the artifact. It's who we might encounter trying to claim it. We need to stay sharp," she cautioned, her hand instinctively resting on her blaster.

Tholme, the quiet one, adjusted the ship's energy output, ensuring they were battle-ready. "All systems optimal. We'll give them a run for their credits," he stated, his tone steady and reassuring.

****

Meanwhile, aboard the *Crimson Corsair*, the atmosphere was equally charged. Cody received the same news, the details of the artifact igniting a fire in his eyes. "This is it. The prize we've been waiting for," he announced, his voice resonant with determination.

Rex stepped forward, his loyalty to Cody as unshakeable as the stars themselves. "We'll need a solid plan. There's no telling what we're up against," he said, his strategic mind already mapping out potential scenarios.

Wolffe, ever the pragmatist, checked their arsenal. "We're ready for a fight if it comes to that. But let's hope stealth can get us there first," he suggested, his gaze fixed on the weapons panel.

Ponds, navigating the ship through the stars, added, "We have the element of surprise on our side. Let's use it to our advantage."

Fives and Echo exchanged looks, their shared history having taught them the value of being prepared for any eventuality. "We'll keep the ship running smoothly. You focus on getting us in and out with that artifact," Echo said, his voice reflecting the depth of trust and camaraderie that defined Cody's crew.

As both the *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* made their way towards the Dalmar Sector, a sense of destiny hung in the air. Obi-Wan and Cody, though unaware of each other's involvement, were bound by a common goal – a prize of untold power that beckoned them deeper into the cosmos. Their crews, a testament to their leadership and vision, stood ready, each member playing a crucial role in the unfolding drama of space piracy, where risk and reward danced a perilous waltz among the stars.

***

As the Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair independently navigated the star-studded labyrinth of the Dalmar Sector, a new piece of intelligence emerged, setting the stage for an unprecedented alliance. A lavish gala, hosted by a notorious crime lord known for his eccentricities and love for extravagant gatherings, was to be the hiding place of the coveted artifact. The only way to gain entry was through an invitation, and the most unobtrusive method was a double date.

Aboard the Midnight Mirage, the revelation caused a stir among the crew. Obi-Wan, his forehead creased in thought, weighed the options. "A gala... it's risky, but it may be our best chance," he mused aloud, his voice calm yet underscored with a trace of unease.

Plo, perceptive as always, noted the hesitation in his captain's voice. "It's not our usual approach, but we've handled worse. We just need the right... partners," he suggested, trying to gauge Obi-Wan's reaction.

Quinlan, leaning against the console, chuckled. "Never thought I'd see the day where we'd crash a party for a job. This'll be interesting," he said, his usual humor masking the underlying tension of the situation.

Mace, ever the realist, added, "We need to be careful. This crime lord isn't known for his hospitality. And who knows who else will be there."

Tholme nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the room. "We'll need a solid exit strategy. Things could get complicated quickly."

Simultaneously, aboard the Crimson Corsair, Cody and his crew were deliberating the same situation. Cody stood with his arms crossed, his gaze distant as he processed the information. "A gala... it's unconventional, but it could work. We'll need to blend in seamlessly," he stated, his tone revealing a hint of reluctance.

Rex stepped forward, his strategic mind already at work. "We can pull it off, Captain. It's all about appearances. We just need the right cover," he said, his confidence unwavering.

Wolffe, ever cautious, interjected, "We should keep our guard up. This crime lord plays for keeps, and there's no telling who else might be after the artifact."

Ponds nodded, his hand subconsciously adjusting his blaster. "We'll need to watch each other's backs. More than usual."

Fives and Echo exchanged a knowing look, their thoughts in sync. "Let's make sure the Corsair is ready for a quick getaway. We don't want to overstay our welcome," Echo commented, a hint of dry humor in his voice.

As fate would have it, both crews, under the leadership of Obi-Wan and Cody, arrived at the same conclusion. A collaboration, though grudging, was necessary. The idea of working with another notorious pirate crew was fraught with tension and distrust, but the prize was too great to ignore.

The decision to collaborate was communicated through encrypted channels, each captain expressing their terms and conditions. There was a mutual understanding, an unspoken acknowledgment of each other's reputation and skill. The plan was set: they would enter the gala as two pairs of dates, blending in with the opulent crowd, all the while seeking the same elusive prize.

As preparations began, the air was thick with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Crew members from both ships, though seasoned in the art of space piracy, found themselves in unfamiliar territory. The prospect of working alongside former rivals added an edge to their preparations, a silent challenge hanging in the air.

In the depths of space, where alliances were as shifting as the stars, this uneasy collaboration between the Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair was a testament to the allure of the artifact. It was a dance of shadows and deception, set against the backdrop of a gala that promised to be as dangerous as it was dazzling.

***

The atmosphere aboard the Midnight Mirage was charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty as they neared the time for the gala. Obi-Wan Kenobi, known for his measured decisions, faced a new kind of challenge in choosing a partner for the façade. His eyes scanned over his crew, each member ready to play their part in this intricate dance of deception.

Plo, Quinlan, Mace, and Tholme awaited his decision, their expressions a mix of eagerness and apprehension. "Captain, if I may," Plo began, his voice steady, "I've studied galactic etiquette and can navigate social intricacies. I believe I could be of use in this environment."

Obi-Wan regarded him, a thoughtful expression etching his features. Plo's skills were indeed valuable, but it was more than that; there was a trust built over countless adventures, a bond forged in the fires of space piracy. "Plo, your knowledge will be invaluable tonight. You'll accompany me," Obi-Wan decided, his voice carrying the finality of a captain's command yet softened by the respect he held for his first mate.

Plo nodded, a sense of pride mixed with the gravity of responsibility settling over him. The rest of the crew exchanged looks of quiet support, their confidence in Plo and their captain unspoken but palpable.

Meanwhile, aboard the Crimson Corsair, a similar scene unfolded. Cody stood amidst his crew, the decision of choosing a partner for the evening weighing on him. Rex, Wolffe, Ponds, Fives, and Echo stood ready, each capable and willing to take on the role.

Rex, his first mate, met Cody's gaze. "Captain, I'm ready to step in. But," he paused, glancing towards their co-pilot, "Wolffe has the finesse for this kind of mission. His experience in undercover operations could give us the edge we need."

Cody considered Rex's words. Wolffe, with his keen eye for detail and ability to blend into any situation, was indeed the ideal choice. "Wolffe, you're with me," Cody announced, his tone resolute. Wolffe nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes. The rest of the crew rallied around their chosen representative, offering words of encouragement and last-minute advice.

Back on the Midnight Mirage, Obi-Wan and Plo were engaged in a detailed discussion of their approach. "Remember, subtlety is our ally tonight. We blend in, gather information, and stay alert," Obi-Wan instructed, his demeanor calm yet underscored with an undercurrent of intensity.

Plo absorbed every word, his mind racing with scenarios and strategies. "We'll make a good team, Captain. We always have," he responded, his confidence in their partnership evident.

On the Crimson Corsair, Cody and Wolffe were finalizing their plans. "We need to be in sync every step of the way. If things go south, we stick to the plan and adapt as necessary," Cody briefed, his eyes scanning the holographic layout of the gala.

Wolffe, ever the pragmatist, nodded in agreement. "I've got your back, Captain. We'll get in, find the artifact, and get out without drawing any unnecessary attention," he assured, his voice a bastion of steadiness.

As both crews prepared for the impending gala, a sense of camaraderie and resolve enveloped them. They were about to embark on a mission unlike any they had undertaken before, a mission that required not just their skills as pirates but as diplomats in a den of vipers. The Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair, once solitary hunters in the vast ocean of stars, were now allies in a game of shadows and deception, with the galaxy's most elusive prize at stake.

***

In the dim light of the Midnight Mirage's strategy room, a holographic projection of the space station flickered into life, casting a blue glow over the faces of Obi-Wan and his crew. They gathered around, their eyes tracing the intricate layout of corridors, ballrooms, and hidden passages.

"Here," Obi-Wan pointed to a secluded section of the station, "is where the artifact is likely kept. Heavily guarded, no doubt."

Plo leaned in, his finger hovering over a different part of the hologram. "There's a service entrance here. Less conspicuous. It could serve as an exit route if we need a quick escape."

Obi-Wan nodded, his mind weaving through scenarios. "Quinlan, you and Mace will handle communications and surveillance. We need eyes and ears inside at all times."

Quinlan flashed a wry grin. "So, we're the eyes in the sky? Got it, Captain. Mace and I will make sure you dance through this without stepping on any toes."

Mace, her expression focused, added, "We'll keep the comms open. Any sign of trouble, and we're your lifeline."

Meanwhile, aboard the Crimson Corsair, a similar scene unfolded. Cody, Wolffe, Rex, and the rest of the crew huddled around their own holographic display. Cody's finger traced a path through the station's layout.

"Our main objective is here," he indicated a lavish hall at the center of the station. "But we need to blend in first. The gala will be swarming with the galaxy's most notorious figures."

Wolffe examined the map, his tactical mind assessing each potential hazard. "Rex, Ponds, you two will handle crowd control. Mingle, gather intel, and stay alert for any unusual activity."

Rex nodded, his demeanor serious. "We'll keep our ears to the ground. If anyone's heard rumors about the artifact, we'll know."

Ponds, his voice steady, chimed in. "Fives, Echo, you're on tech and logistics. Make sure our escape routes are clear and our gear is ready at a moment's notice."

Fives grinned, the thrill of the mission igniting a spark in his eyes. "Just another day at the office, huh, Echo?"

Echo's reply was a nod, his focus already on the task at hand. "We'll be ready for anything."

Back on the Midnight Mirage, Tholme was finalizing the technical details. "I've synced our comms to a secure channel. We won't have any unwanted listeners."

Obi-Wan surveyed his crew, a sense of pride mingling with the gravity of the mission. "Remember, we need to be discreet. This is a high-stakes game, and we're playing against some of the galaxy's most cunning minds."

The air was thick with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Plo, sensing the tension, offered a reassuring smile. "We've faced worse odds. We've got this, Captain."

On the Crimson Corsair, the mood was similarly charged. Cody's eyes met each of his crew members', a silent message of trust and resolve passing between them. "We're more than just pirates tonight. We're players in a game that could change our fortunes forever."

The competitive Maceer, a staple of their interactions, took on a new edge as they prepared for the gala. Each jest, each quip, was a way to stave off the underlying tension, to remind themselves of the camaraderie that had carried them through countless dangers.

As the two ships made their final preparations, the vastness of space around them seemed to hold its breath. The Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair, once lone hunters in the cosmic wilderness, were now unlikely allies, their paths converging in a dance of shadows and intrigue, with the enigmatic gala at the heart of their quest.

***

The night of the gala had arrived, a convergence of fate and strategy under the opulent dome of the space station. The *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* docked discreetly, their crews ready to step into roles that were far from their usual. Dressed in disguises that masked their notorious identities, they blended into the galaxy's elite with a practiced ease.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, his usual rugged attire replaced by the sleek lines of high-class fashion, moved through the crowd with a graceful poise that belied his true nature. His eyes, sharp and observant beneath the facade, scanned the room, taking in the grandeur around him. The station's ballroom was a marvel of galactic architecture, with soaring ceilings that mirrored the night sky and walls adorned with exotic materials from distant worlds.

Cody, his demeanor equally transformed, stood beside Obi-Wan. His outfit, though elegant, couldn't completely conceal the soldier's bearing that defined him. He surveyed the room with a tactician's eye, noting exits, guards, and potential threats among the sea of guests.

Together, they navigated the gala, a ballet of subtlety and subterfuge. The air was thick with the perfumes of a thousand worlds, and the murmur of a hundred languages filled the space, a symphony of the galaxy's diversity.

Meanwhile, Wolffe and Plo, Obi-Wan's chosen companion for the evening, entered the fray. Wolffe, in his disguise, maintained a stoic calm, his eyes constantly on the move. Plo, in contrast, exuded a serene confidence, his demeanor that of a seasoned diplomat.

The guests were a tapestry of the galaxy's most colorful figures - politicians, merchants, adventurers, and those whose wealth and power transcended planetary boundaries. Alien species of all shapes and sizes mingled, their attire ranging from the elegantly simple to the extravagantly bizarre.

As Obi-Wan and Cody moved through the crowd, their interactions were a delicate dance of words and gestures. "Remember, we're not just looking for the artifact. We're looking for allies, information, anything that can give us an edge," Obi-Wan whispered under the guise of a casual conversation.

Cody nodded subtly, his reply masked by a sip of an exotic beverage. "And we need to keep an eye on each other's backs. We're not the only predators in this room," he murmured, his gaze briefly locking with a figure across the room whose gaze was a little too keen.

Wolffe and Plo, operating on the fringe of the gala, were an exercise in contrasts. Plo's gentle demeanor drew inquisitive glances and amiable chatter, while Wolffe's silent vigilance served as a discreet but effective deterrent to any who might probe too deeply.

The gala was more than a gathering; it was a nexus of power and intrigue, where each conversation was a potential clue, each glance a potential threat. The music, a haunting melody that echoed the mysteries of space, provided a backdrop to their mission.

Obi-Wan's mind was a whirlwind of observations and deductions, every detail noted and analyzed. Cody, equally vigilant, was a portrait of focus, his every sense attuned to the subtle undercurrents of the event.

As the evening progressed, the tension beneath the veneer of celebration grew. The artifact, the prize they all sought, was somewhere within these walls, a secret waiting to be unearthed in a den of opulence and danger. And in the heart of it all were Obi-Wan and Cody, two legendary pirates disguised as nobles, playing a game of shadows in a world that was as alien to them as the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

***

In the grand ballroom, where the galaxy's elite waltzed under the shimmering artificial stars, a subtle game of cat and mouse unfolded. Cody and Obi-Wan, having split from Wolffe and Plo, moved with a purpose disguised by the elegance of their façade.

Cody, leaning against a pillar, engaged a group of wealthy merchants in conversation. His words were laced with charm, each sentence carefully crafted to draw attention, to create a diversion. "And then, as the moons aligned, we discovered the rarest gem of the Oortas system," he regaled, his voice a melody of feigned bravado and adventure. The group hung on his every word, their laughter a cover for his true intentions.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, seizing the opportunity, slipped away from the crowd's view. His heart pounded in a rhythm that mirrored the subtle undercurrents of danger and excitement. Each step was measured, each glance calculated. He navigated the maze of corridors, his senses heightened, aware of every shadow, every sound.

Back at the gala, Cody's stories grew more extravagant, more enthralling. His eyes, however, remained vigilant, scanning the crowd for any signs of suspicion or interference. The merchants, intoxicated by his charisma, were oblivious to the orchestration of events.

Obi-Wan, now in the less frequented parts of the station, moved with the grace of a shadow. He encountered a few guards, but his disguise and the convincing air of belonging allowed him to pass without incident. His mind was a whirlpool of strategy and anticipation, every scenario played and replayed in the confines of his thoughts.

In a different part of the ballroom, Wolffe and Plo engaged in their own dance of distraction. Plo's charm was a gentle wave, lapping at the shores of the guests' curiosity, while Wolffe's silent presence was the rock against which any suspicion broke harmlessly.

The music swelled, a crescendo that mirrored the rising stakes. Obi-Wan found himself outside the chamber where the artifact was believed to be held. His hand hovered over the door's control panel, a moment of hesitation that was a rare occurrence for the seasoned pirate.

Meanwhile, Cody, sensing the climax of their plan was near, intensified his efforts. A flirtatious banter with a dignitary's daughter, a laugh shared with a boisterous trader, each interaction a brushstroke in the larger picture they were painting.

Obi-Wan's hand moved, and the door slid open silently. Inside, the chamber was dimly lit, its contents obscured by shadows. His eyes adjusted quickly, scanning for the artifact, aware that time was a luxury they didn't have.

Back at the gala, a sudden shift in the crowd's mood signaled that their ruse might soon be up. Cody, with the instinct of a predator, knew it was time to retreat. He excused himself with a charming smile and a promise to return, then melted into the crowd, moving towards the rendezvous point.

Obi-Wan, inside the chamber, finally laid eyes on the artifact. It was smaller than he had imagined, its surface reflecting the sparse light in mesmerizing patterns. As he reached out, a sense of triumph mixed with an uncharacteristic twinge of apprehension coursed through him.

In a symphony of carefully orchestrated movements and distractions, the teams began their withdrawal from the gala. Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe, and Plo converged, each aware that the hardest part of their mission was yet to come. The artifact, now in their possession, was a beacon that would draw all eyes to them.

As they regrouped, their eyes met in silent communication, a shared understanding of the stakes. They had infiltrated the heart of danger, played their parts in a theater of deceit, and emerged victorious. But the night was far from over, and the escape promised to be as treacherous as the acquisition. The dance of shadows continued, with the entire galaxy as their stage.

***

As the quartet converged in the dimly lit corridor, their triumph was palpable yet muted, overshadowed by the looming challenge of escape. Obi-Wan, holding the artifact securely, exchanged a glance with Cody. Their eyes spoke volumes – a shared acknowledgment of the mission's success and the impending danger.

Just as they began to coordinate their retreat, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. The group tensed, their senses heightened. From the shadows emerged the crime lord and his entourage of heavily armed guards. His presence was as commanding as the legends that preceded him, his eyes sharp and calculating.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" the crime lord's voice was smooth, yet laced with a dangerous edge. He eyed the artifact in Obi-Wan's grasp, a predatory glint in his gaze.

Obi-Wan's mind raced, his years of experience in deception coming to the fore. "We were just admiring your collection," he said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

Cody stepped forward, his stance protective yet non-threatening. "It's a rare piece. We couldn't resist taking a closer look," he added, his words carefully chosen to avoid escalating the situation.

The crime lord circled them, his guards poised and alert. "A rare piece indeed. And one that's not for uninvited guests," he replied, his tone deceptively calm.

Wolffe and Plo remained silent but vigilant, their hands subtly inching towards their concealed weapons. The tension in the air was a tangible force, a prelude to a confrontation they all sought to avoid.

The crime lord stopped, his eyes locked on Obi-Wan. "You're not just any thieves. I recognize you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Commander Cody. Your reputations precede you." His words were a mix of admiration and menace.

Obi-Wan met his gaze, an undercurrent of respect in his response. "And you are a collector of rare treasures. This artifact would be safer in our hands."

The crime lord chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. "You overestimate your position, Kenobi. This is my domain, and you are at my mercy."

The standoff was a chess match of wills, each player calculating the risks and potential moves. Cody's mind worked furiously, assessing their options, the layout of the room, the positioning of the guards. Every second that passed was a second closer to an inevitable clash.

Wolffe's hand rested discreetly on his blaster, his eyes scanning for an opening, a weakness in the guards' formation. Plo, ever the diplomat, sought a peaceful resolution, his thoughts focused on de-escalating the tension.

"Perhaps we can come to an arrangement," Obi-Wan proposed, his voice a blend of confidence and caution.

The crime lord paused, considering. "I'm listening," he said, his interest piqued despite the undercurrent of suspicion.

Obi-Wan took a subtle step forward, his every word measured. "The galaxy is a dangerous place. An artifact like this could attract unwanted attention. We can ensure its safety, and in return, we ask for safe passage."

The crime lord's eyes narrowed, weighing the offer. The silence that followed was a battlefield of unspoken strategies and hidden agendas.

Cody, seizing the moment of distraction, gave a subtle nod to his crew. In a fluid, coordinated movement, they drew their weapons, the sudden action catching the guards off guard.

The ensuing chaos was a blur of motion and sound. Blaster fire lit the corridor, its echoes reverberating through the station. Obi-Wan and Cody, back-to-back, fought with a synergy born of mutual respect and necessity. Wolffe and Plo provided cover, their shots precise and calculated.

The crime lord, caught in the unexpected uprising, retreated with a snarl of frustration, his guards forming a protective circle around him.

In the midst of the chaos, Obi-Wan's thoughts were clear, focused. This was more than just a fight for survival; it was a testament to their resolve, their unwillingness to bow to the whims of tyranny.

Cody, his blaster a steady extension of his will, moved with a soldier's grace, each shot a statement of defiance against those who sought to claim power through fear and oppression.

As the last of the guards fell, the group made a dash for the exit, the artifact secured in Obi-Wan's grasp. They moved with the urgency of those who knew that every moment spent was a moment closer to capture or worse.

The corridor blurred past them, a tunnel leading to freedom, to survival. Behind them, the sounds of the gala continued, a stark contrast to the battle they had just waged. Ahead, lay their ships, their sanctuary in the vastness of space.

Together, Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe, and Plo raced towards escape, their hearts pounding a rhythm of adrenaline and triumph. They had faced the impossible, challenged the powerful, and emerged victorious. But the night was far from over, and the stars awaited their return, silent witnesses to the saga of pirates, artifacts, and the unyielding spirit of those who dared to defy the galaxy.

The corridors of the space station transformed into a labyrinth of danger as Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe, and Plo navigated their escape. The sounds of pursuit were a relentless drumbeat at their heels, a cacophony that spurred their adrenaline-fueled strides.

As they turned a corner, a squad of guards blocked their path. Without hesitation, the group sprang into action. Cody and Wolffe opened fire, providing cover while Obi-Wan and Plo engaged in close-quarters combat. Their movements were a fluid dance of offense and defense, honed by years of survival in the unforgiving expanse of space.

Obi-Wan's lightsaber hummed as it sliced through the air, deflecting blaster shots with an elegance that belied the intensity of the moment. Plo, moving with a deceptive calm, dispatched guards with precise, controlled strikes. The bond between them was palpable, a silent communication that spoke of deep trust and understanding.

Cody, his blaster never wavering, kept a protective eye on his companions. "This way!" he shouted, spotting an opening. They moved as one, a unit forged by necessity and hardened by danger.

The pursuit was relentless, more guards converging on their position. Their path to the docking bay was a gauntlet of obstacles, each turn bringing new challenges. Wolffe, ever vigilant, took down a guard attempting to flank them. His actions were instinctive, the result of countless battles fought side by side with his comrades.

As they neared the docking bay, the realization that they were not out of danger yet weighed heavily on them. The vastness of space awaited, but so did the ships of the crime lord, ready to give chase.

Once inside their ships, the Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair, the tension shifted from physical confrontation to a battle of wits and piloting skill. Obi-Wan and Cody took the helms of their respective vessels, their hands steady despite the pounding of their hearts.

"Prepare for evasive maneuvers," Obi-Wan instructed, his voice calm over the ship's comm. The Midnight Mirage responded to his touch, veering into the vastness of space with the grace of a celestial bird in flight.

Cody, his expression one of fierce determination, mirrored the move in the Crimson Corsair. "Wolffe, keep an eye on our tail. We're not in the clear yet," he commanded, his eyes fixed on the starfield ahead.

The space around the station became a theater of pursuit, the ships of the crime lord's fleet hot on their trail. Laser fire streaked through the void, a deadly light show that threatened to end their escape prematurely.

Obi-Wan's mind raced, calculating trajectories and counter-maneuvers. The Midnight Mirage weaved through the onslaught, its engines roaring defiance against the odds. Beside him, Plo worked the controls with a focus born of countless hours of flight.

Cody, in the Crimson Corsair, executed a series of daring maneuvers, the ship twisting and turning through space with the agility of a predator. "Hang on!" he warned, as he pulled a particularly risky move that brought them dangerously close to an asteroid field.

The chase was a maelstrom of tension and skill, a test of their resolve and their ability to outthink and outfly their pursuers. Each evasion, each successful dodge, was a small victory, a step closer to freedom.

As the space station receded into the distance, the relentless pursuit began to wane. The crime lord's ships, unwilling or unable to navigate the treacherous asteroid field, fell back, leaving the Midnight Mirage and the Crimson Corsair to disappear into the starry expanse.

Inside the ships, relief washed over the crews in palpable waves. They had survived, against overwhelming odds. They shared looks of mutual respect and unspoken camaraderie, their bond strengthened by the ordeal they had endured together.

***

In the quiet aftermath of their daring escape, the crews of the *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* gathered to behold the prize that had brought them together in an unlikely alliance. The artifact, now resting on a table in the *Midnight Mirage*'s main hold, seemed almost mundane in the dim light, its enigmatic surface betraying none of the perilous adventure it had incited.

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody, standing side by side, surveyed the object. The rest of the crew, Wolffe, Plo, and the others, circled around, their expressions a mix of curiosity and contemplation.

"It's smaller than I expected," Cody remarked, his voice tinged with a blend of amusement and disappointment. His fingers hovered over the artifact, hesitant to touch yet drawn by an unspoken allure.

Obi-Wan, his eyes thoughtful, nodded in agreement. "It's not its size or appearance that matters. It's the power it supposedly holds," he mused, his gaze introspective. "Yet, I can't help but feel that its true value lies elsewhere."

The crew members exchanged glances, their post-mission adrenaline fading into a reflective silence. The artifact, for all its legendary status, was unremarkable to the eye, a stark contrast to the grand tales woven around it.

Wolffe stepped forward, his hand brushing against the artifact's surface. "We risked everything for this. Fought side by side with those we once called rivals," he said, his voice a rumble of deep thought.

Plo, ever the philosopher among them, added, "Perhaps the artifact's real power is not in what it is, but in what it brought out in us. Unity, cooperation, despite our differences."

The room fell into a contemplative hush, each person processing the weight of Plo's words. The artifact had indeed done something remarkable; it had united two disparate crews, two captains who had once navigated the stars as adversaries.

Obi-Wan turned to face Cody, a newfound respect evident in his demeanor. "Commander, this mission... it has shown me that even among the stars, where rivalry and danger are rife, there is room for unexpected alliances, for unity."

Cody met his gaze, a mirror of respect in his own eyes. "Agreed, Kenobi. We may walk different paths, but our journey tonight has proven that together, we can face challenges insurmountable alone."

The crew members, listening to their captains, felt a sense of pride swell within them. They had been part of something greater than a mere heist; they had been part of a testament to the strength found in unity.

The artifact, now almost forgotten in the wake of their realization, sat quietly, its secrets locked away. But the lesson it had inadvertently taught them shone brightly, a beacon of understanding in the vast, often divided galaxy.

As the two crews prepared to part ways, the atmosphere was no longer one of mere professional courtesy but of mutual respect and acknowledgment. They had shared a journey that had changed not just their perception of each other but of the broader universe in which they lived and fought.

Obi-Wan extended his hand to Cody, a gesture of camaraderie. "Until our paths cross again, Commander. May your journey be safe and your battles victorious."

Cody clasped his hand firmly. "And to you, Kenobi. May the stars light your way."

With a final nod to each other, the crews of the *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* returned to their ships, their engines humming to life as they prepared to chart their courses back into the starry expanse. The artifact, a silent witness to their newfound bond, remained a mystery, its power transcendent in the unity it had inspired.

As the ships drifted apart, each crew member carried with them the memory of the night when rivals became allies, when the pursuit of an enigmatic prize led to a discovery far more valuable – the power of unity in the vast, endless galaxy.

****

As the *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* charted their respective courses away from the space station, a sense of quiet introspection fell over both crews. The vastness of space, with its myriad stars and galaxies, seemed to hold them in a contemplative embrace.

Aboard the *Midnight Mirage*, Obi-Wan Kenobi stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the endless expanse before him. The stars, once mere points of light in the great tapestry of the cosmos, now seemed to hold deeper meaning. The experience with Cody and his crew had shifted something fundamental in his understanding of the universe.

"Captain, course set for our next destination," Plo reported, his voice pulling Obi-Wan from his reverie.

Obi-Wan nodded, his mind still wrapped in the remnants of their recent adventure. "Thank you, Plo. Keep us on this trajectory," he replied, his tone distant yet composed.

As he gazed out into the void, his thoughts lingered on the camaraderie that had unexpectedly blossomed from rivalry. "We've always known the galaxy to be a place of conflict and competition. But this... this has shown us that even the fiercest of rivals can find common ground," he mused aloud.

Plo, standing beside him, nodded in agreement. "It's a rare thing, Captain. To find respect, perhaps even friendship, in the face of adversity."

Obi-Wan's lips curved in a thoughtful smile. "It gives me hope, Plo. That even in the darkest corners of space, there is potential for unity."

Meanwhile, aboard the *Crimson Corsair*, Commander Cody stood with a similar contemplative expression. The galaxy stretched out before him, a canvas of infinite possibilities and challenges.

"Course laid in, Captain. We're on our way," Wolffe announced, breaking the silence of the bridge.

Cody turned slightly, acknowledging his crewmate. "Thank you, Wolffe. Keep us steady," he replied, his voice carrying a newfound depth.

His gaze returned to the stars, and he found himself reflecting on the unexpected bond formed with Obi-Wan and his crew. "Who would have thought, Wolffe, that in chasing an artifact, we'd find something more valuable?" he said, the question rhetorical yet laden with significance.

Wolffe stepped closer, his demeanor one of respect and reflection. "It's a strange universe, Captain. Makes you wonder what other surprises are out there."

Cody's eyes remained fixed on the void. "Indeed, it does. It makes you reconsider what we know about alliances and rivalries. Perhaps the galaxy is more nuanced than we gave it credit for."

As both ships continued their journey through the stars, their paths diverging yet invisibly linked by their shared experience, the crews carried with them a profound sense of change. The rivalry that had once defined their interactions was now colored with respect and a recognition of shared humanity.

Obi-Wan and Cody, leaders and pirates, had glimpsed a truth often obscured in the chaos of galactic strife: that beneath the banners of conflict and competition, there lay the potential for understanding and camaraderie.

The vast galaxy, with its uncharted worlds and unexplored frontiers, seemed less daunting, knowing that even among rivals, there could be moments of unity and mutual respect. And as the *Midnight Mirage* and the *Crimson Corsair* sailed on, their courses charted under different stars, the memory of their alliance lingered, a testament to the unexpected friendships that could be forged in the depths of space.

"Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this interstellar escapade, reblog to share with fellow Star Wars fans. Your support means the galaxy to me! 🌟🚀

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