#stubborn to my core when it comes to my ships have been since ship wars began (ty every witch way for the poll that was rigged so jax could

[catstack17]

you know i didn’t think i was that stubborn until fandoms would try to tell me that my ships weren’t endgame.

practically every childhood ship i will still defend that they’re endgame despite anything that tells me they are not (including canon in some shows)

[littlemissmanga]

One Last Order

It's been a while since I got into writing at all, let alone fanfics. But I had this thought last night and it's been bugging me since. I hope someone enjoys this. I know I enjoyed writing it :)

Pairing: CT-7567/Captain Rex x Reader (g/n, no physical descriptions, no use of y/n)

Mood: Angst/hurt. Post Order 66

Warnings: None really unless you're sensitive to bittersweet stories. SFW but mentions of intimacy with no details.

WC: 900 words

Summary: It was the hardest decision he'd ever made. But Rex was determined to see it through. He lost everything else. He couldn't bear to lose you, too. And so, he gives you the one order you hate the most ... the one he hopes in vain you'll follow.

Part 2

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It was for the best. He knew it. He couldn’t bear to contemplate the alternative.

Your home planet was on the edges of the Mid-Rim, far from any hyperspace lanes. You’d be able to resign — as a nat-born who had been assigned to the 501st for logistical support, you’d technically fulfilled your obligations to the army when the war ended.

The Empire wouldn’t waste its resources on retaining you. You’d be able to slip off its radar and quietly build a new life.

But with him … you’d never know peace. There’d be a target on your back. And he’d be the one painting it on, tainting your life with his.

“I … I couldn’t save my brothers. Please. Please let me keep you safe. Let me go.”

The pain etched into your eyes almost broke him. The tears you’d been so stalwart in holding back finally broke free, cascading down the lovely curve of your cheeks.

That he was the one hurting you twisted his gut, sending bile rising up to his throat.

But better a broken heart now than a life forever in danger, he thought, letting his own reasoning drown out your passioned rebuttal.  

He never expected, never even thought he could experience anything like what he did with you. He was a soldier. A damn good one at that. He led his men with pride in service of the Republic, in service of freedom and peace. Fighting beside his brothers gave him a purpose he never questioned.

You shattered that certainty the first time he caught sight of your wry smile.

You stood toe to toe with General Skywalker, matching his stubbornness and determination when convinced you were right. Your ability and skill in your field — and your dedication to ensuring the troopers of his legion were as prepared and supported as possible no matter the mission — never failed to impress him, even long after he knew to expect it.

But that first smile. Watching you laugh in the mess with his brothers, holding your own against Fives’ incessant badgering, brightening Kix’s ever-gruff expression, calming and welcoming the newest shinies warmed him from the inside out. You never saw them as just clones. You treated them as comrades. As men. You gave them a soft place to land after facing another day of harsh reality.

It drew him to you, needing with increasing desperation to have that smile trained on him.

And when it finally did, when your eyes began softening at the sight of him, that warmth ignited into an inferno that radiated from his very core. He was shocked he didn’t burn you.

On the contrary, you only came closer, eventually curling around him in his small bunk, creating a bubble of warmth and light so precious that he’d almost forget you were on a ship in the dark, cold void of space.

He’d never betray his brothers, his mission. But you revealed a new way of living. Of loving. In your arms, he found solace after battle — a refuge he never wanted to leave but one that gave him the strength to each time he was recalled to battle. In your bed, he found a new purpose, a pleasure he would chase at every opportunity just to see you come undone for him.

And it soothed him, knowing with each step he took on the ground, you were back at command, tracking him, watching out for him.

So, no. He never wanted to leave your side. Without the GAR, without the 501st, his general or commander, he could dedicate the rest of his life to you. And, stars, did he want to. Every cell in his manufactured body wanted to take you into his arms and keep you there forever, giving you his heart, his very soul if you asked.

But it was too selfish.

For now, the Empire thought he was dead. That wouldn’t last forever. He may not be a captain anymore, but he was still a soldier. And he would fight against the Empire that stole everything from him. He would gladly give his last breath to free the brothers still trapped in its maw and the civilians caught under its boot.  

It was a dangerous path; one he knew he had to take. But you would not be coming with him.

With one last sigh, he stepped in closer to you, his gloved hand gently caressing your cheek and wiping away a tear, only for it to be replaced immediately. Your eyes slid shut as you clenched your jaw, hardening your soft face and causing the corner of his own mouth to twitch up for just a moment.

You never were graceful when you lost a fight.

“I love you, ner karta. So, so much.” His words were barely a whisper, too scared that anything louder would shatter your threadbare resignation … and his. His lips were even gentler, barely pressing against the delicate skin of your forehead.

“Be safe. Be happy.” One last order from your Captain. He didn’t believe in any deity, but he prayed to every one he’d ever heard of and to the Force itself you’d obey.

Then, he hardened himself. With an abrupt turn, he left your warmth behind as he forced each step, letting his mind drift as his feet carried him further and further away from his heart.     

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It's so funny, I usually prefer reading fluffy, comforting fics/ficlets or slow burn but with happy endings. But this just demanded my attention lol.

Part 2 is now done! It is spicy - or citrusy, for my fellow Tumblr veterans - reunion with Rebels!Rex.

[crispyjenkins]

Can we get a fic where Jaster somehow gets sent to the future or something and him reacting to the clones? (Being pissed off that his ad would do something like this to these poor kids/ just reacting to them?)

(this one was so. fecking. hard. to write, i’ve been struggling with it for weeks, but i’m glad i did, because this is by far the best version i made of it. it’s interesting in how much my opinion of jango’s decision to be the template has changed since i first got this ask, and i was definitely coming at it with this post in mind for their characterisations here.

i love hondo. so you get hondo knowing jaster from pre-civil war days, and i don’t care if canon disagrees: hondo ohnaka has been terroising house mereel for three generations.

also i’ve already had a few people donate to my ko-fi and i’m completely floored by your kindness and generosity, and i sat down with this fill knowing i wanted to get it out as soon as possible. i sincerely love you all, i hope you’re all healthy and being as safe as possible.)

Alt+R to Quick Reblog on Desktop, Hold the Reblog Symbol to Quick Reblog on Mobile

  “Oh, Jango? We keep him here.” —Lama Su, AotC

-

  By some will of the Ka’ra, it’s Boba that finds him.

  The possibility of dying in his ad’s arms hadn’t exactly crossed Jaster’s mind until it happened, like a nightmare he had never even had. For the first time since the Fett farm burned, Jaster cursed the Ka’ra, and he curses them again when he wakes up not marching* to the stars, but standing knee-deep in the snows of Galidraan

  And the Ka’ra make sure he knows it’s Galidraan though he had never been there, just as he somehow knows Jango is long-since dead. That he is a dislocated bone in the universe, snapped out of time and place and thrown into a future where Jango’s face stares at him from a body that is not his.

  “Oh,” the teen with Jango’s nose says, the snow coming all the way up to their thighs, and they don't look dressed nearly warm enough for this biome. “Did Hondo send you?”

  Jaster blinks at them. “Did...? No, ad’ika, I have not spoken to Hondo in many years.” Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised Hondo is even still alive, Maker knows Jaster’s tried to kill him enough times himself, but if the number of years since his death on Korda Six is as many as he thinks it is, surely someone would have shot him by now.

  The teen doesn’t wear beskar’gam —it’s unlikely they’re even old enough to— but the style of the armor they do wear cannot be inspired by anything else, just reminiscent enough of evaar’gam that Jaster can’t help comparing every little detail about them with the faded image of Jango in his mind.

  “Then who the kriff are you?” They eye Jaster warily, left hand twitching towards the vibroblade at their hip.

  Promising to strangle every one of the Ka’ra when he can finally march away, and throwing the last of his caution down to the snow between them, Jaster simply says, “Jaster Mereel.”

  Impossibly, though maybe not entirely, not-Jango doesn’t laugh at him, or call him crazy, or even try to shoot him with the rifle slung over their shoulder. No, they straighten to their full height, and—

  And swear so colorfully in Huttese that Jaster knows this hell-child has absolutely been raised by Hondo Ohnaka.

-

  Boba takes him to the ruins of Kamino first, where the kriffing Sith Empire has destroyed another one of his people’s homes. 

  The growth labs were all blown into the ocean by imperial ilk soon after the formation of the empire, but the barracks and some of the training rooms still stand above the waves. In the ship he says belonged to Jango, Boba steers them to a dilapidated landing pad, controlling the Slave I (Maker, had Jaster really left Jango to that fate?) far too easily through the rubble for this to be his first time to return, and Jaster tries not to think about what that means.

  Walking the dark, grimy white halls, seeing the narrow bunks and bare req rooms, he then tries not to think about a child being raised in such a place, about hundreds of thousands of children being raised in such a place. How had Jango... chosen this for them?

  “I only have his stories,” Boba tells him quietly, when he shows Jaster the tiny apartment the Kaminoans had given them to “keep Jango close”. It’s bigger than most captain’s cabins, to be sure, but it is just as plain and white as the rest of the facility. “But he couldn’t even get one hundred Mandalorians to come and train the... clones.” He shuffles his feet uncomfortably as Jaster looks into the cupboard-sized kitchen and tries not to break down at the package of Mandalorian chiles rotted away on the counter. “Everyone else was New Mandalorian or Death Watch.”

  “And the rest... they fell at the Battle of Galidraan?”

“Buir always called it a massacre,” he looks away. “Only a handful of the Cuy’val Dar even considered themselves True Mandalorians, buir was there when the Jedi killed the rest.”

  Jaster inhales deeply, takes a few moments to steady himself, and is sickeningly, horrifyingly relieved. By the Maker, but knowing Jango had had no one left before his Kamino contract, that not even Skirata followed the codex anymore, that Jango had only taken the job after forcing Tyranus to give him an unaltered clone, makes Jaster guilty for having doubted his foundling. It doesn’t excuse anything, of course, but knowing Jango had done it all for aliit, well, it does make it easier to swallow.

  Boba leads him back out of the apartment, he had already stripped it of anything important years ago, and they don’t stick around after reboarding the Slave I. Only after they’re out of atmosphere with hyperspace coordinates for Tatooine in the astronav system does Boba join Jaster in the tiny galley with a bottle of tihaar that Jaster should probably reprimand him for, but won’t.

  “He tried to pretend he didn’t care, about the others,” Boba says and doesn’t even bother to find them glasses, “I think some days he even believed it.”

  “He always was stubborn as a rancor.”

  Boba takes a long pull from the bottle before passing it across the table. “Tyranus scared the shit out of me back then, he was too... put together, too fancy. Buir didn’t like him, I don’t know why he even did the tryout for him, the pay wasn’t even that great?”

  Rubbing his left eye until he sees stars, Jaster stares down into the bottle until he can come up with a way to explain core Mandalorian beliefs to a child that had barely a decade of living as one before that, too, had been taken from him. “If Jang’ika took that job intending to come out on the other side, I’ll kiss whatever Vizsla is left.”

  Boba’s mouth twists and he kicks his heels against the floor, not waiting for Jaster to hand it to him to grab the tihaar back. “Buir was an idiot,” he says, like the solve to a simple math problem, and Jaster can’t but agree.

  He sighs. “Unfortunately, he probably got that from somewhere.”

  “I mean, at least Montross didn’t live long enough to end up as the template? Kriffing fuck, can you imagine if the Jedi had had to work with that shabuir’s clones?”

  “Maybe the war would have ended sooner,” he muses and accepts the bottle, “surely this Emperor would have tired of his face much sooner than Jango’s.”

  “Or the Coruscant Guard would have shivved Palpatine in his sleep and tried to take over the Republic; what’s one betrayal of your leader to another?”

  “Then I’d like to think Jango would put him, them, in their place for a third time.”

  Snorting, Boba pushes to his feet to, presumably, check on the autopilot. “If buir would have even let it get that far, then I’ll kiss Vizsla.”

-

  “Old friend!” Hondo shouts as soon as he sees them, and Jaster winces, nursing his first hangover since his twenties.

  “Ohnaka,” he returns, and pretends he doesn’t notice the subtle way Boba brightens as Hondo comes to clap them both on the shoulders.

  The old pirate just chuckles and starts to steer them both back across the hangar bay to his latest junk ship. “I heard you died, Mand’alor,” he says casually, like the title isn’t cursed to the ka’ra and back, like it hadn’t been three decades since anyone had dared call someone from his house such a thing so sincerely.

  “I did.”

  “I found him on Galidraan,” Boba offers. “Is that why you told me to go?”

  Hondo scoffs, and Jaster would say he was flustered if he didn’t know him better. “No, I told you to go because Aurra had a job for you, that you seem to have forgotten about in your haste to bring my long lost best friend back to me.”

  Boba scowls. “Aurra wasn’t at the meeting place, laandur, it was a kriffing mynock chase and you know it.”

  Jaster side eyes his old “friend”, and wonders again about his preternatural... luck in all things pirate-related, despite being a boisterous mess of a man most of the time. If this Aurra had even been on the planet when Boba got there, Jaster will kiss Vizsla twice. 

-

Mando’a: Ka'ra — an ancient Mandalorian story, ruling council of fallen kings, “stars” ad — “child”, gender neutral 'ika — diminutive suffix, similar to the suffix “ita/o” in Spanish. generally used only by close family and friends beskar'gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy evaar'gam — lit. “youth armour”, fan name for the interim armour/garb Mandalorians would have worn before building their kit of beskar’gam buir — “parent”, gender neutral  Cuy'val Dar — “Those who no longer exist”, group of 75 Mando’ade and 25 others put together by Jango to train the clones aliit — “clan”, “family” tihaar — Mandalorian strong clear spirit made from fruit shabuir —  an extreme insult, mostly accepted in fandom to be an insult of an individual’s ability to parent (from buir), which is an intrinsic part of Mandalorian psyche and identity  laandur — used here as “weak”, “pathetic”, but is usually used as “delicate”, “fragile”

*in reference to the Mando’a word for the dead/deceased “taab'echaaj'la”, or “marched far away”, best explained in the Mando’a tribute to dead comrades, “not gone, merely marching far away”. 

[space-city-traffic]

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

[smokahuntis]

Don’t want to run around

Pairing; Poe dameron X reader

Song: Joji ~ Xnxx

Warnings: SMUT, fluff actually really fluffy for me. Dirty talk, cream pie

Summery: Poe and (y/n) everyone knew they were sleeping together, it was no secret, but it also wasn’t a secret the commander was a playboy. It was usually just a distraction at night or in the morning. But after the war Poe realized it was more.

Authors note: i do not know who owns these gifs, I’ve had them for awhile from Pinterest and there was no credit, I’m sorry, feel free to tag them if you know! Also reblog!

I don’t really want to run around

It had been awhile since they’d seen each other, after everything was settled and they could relax for a bit they went back to their families. It was much needed for both of them, time away from the base and spent with their parents and siblings. But that time away made Poe realize a lot, he needed her.

“So, how’s (y/n)” his mother asked happily, she’d met the girl multiple times and always urged Poe to make a move but he never did, so she decided she’d bug him to death.

“She’s doing great, she took a bad hit awhile back and her arms in a swing but she’s healing quickly” Poe said looking up from his food with his charming smile.

“She was always a strong girl, head strong, physically, mentally” his mother said with a smile, Poe thought it was a normal conversation so he didn’t mind.

“She’s be great to have kids with” she smirked, he nearly chocked. All he could do was smile and nod in shock of his mother’s words.

“It’s about time we had grandkids” his father added causing Poe to shake his head.

Time is going slow and I don’t mind.

“She’s not really a relationship person” he finally said, looking between them. “Plus, I have all the time in the world” he said and they nodded. It was his last night there before he went back to base. So after dinner, when he was laying up in his bed he couldn’t help but let his mind roam. What would it be like if he actually settled down with her, he could do it now after all. Only thing to worry about would be, well, rejection. But she can’t really deny him, can she?

Come on, who would deny Poe dameron, leader of the resistance, best pilot in the galaxy.... she would, it’s (y/n)

Tell me if you know I’m really found

She never cared for titles or reputations, she cared about the soul, who you were inside. She actually hated Poe when they first met, thought he was a cocky asshole, of course she was right. But she humbled him since then, he’s been better. She made him sweet and honorable. He wouldn’t admit it tho, he was still stubborn as a bantha.

However they hadn’t really talked much, both of them busy taking care of others and helping other planets, sometimes she thought Poe was mad at her, always sending her away when she had free time. Of course people needed help still, they needed to recover but it seemed anytime she could be with him he pushed her away now.

Fuck around a bit and get it right

She felt almost abandoned by him, so she started avoiding him too, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think about him. They thought about each other constantly.

Soon, they would see each other again, be able to work again, and now that (y/n)’s arm is all healed she could work again. But first, she had to see Poe.

Now his ship was landing and she couldn’t wait, she was tired of staying away and having a cold bed, the only thing waking her being the sun. She was tired of opening her eyes to white sheets. He was tired of reaching over and finding nothing.

I don’t really wanna run around

Neither of them really knew why they were so distant, not on the surface anyways. Deep down they both knew why, they were scared, scared of admitting to themselves and each other that it’s not just sex anymore. Not now, not ever again, it’s not just sex. Never had been.

Poe was ready to confront her, say something, he planned the whole thing in his mind, what he’d say, how he’d say it, he knew. He had it together, calm, cool, collected. Then he saw her, he froze, but she didn’t. She smiled that beautiful smile that made his insides feel warm as she walked to him.

She was beautiful, even in just a simple pair of brown pants and a white shirt wait, is that his jacket? That’s his jacket, he’s been missing that. That’s not the point, the point is.

“I missed you” she smiled and hugged him tightly. Taking in his scent of leather, space and cedar, a faint apple smell from where his mom washed his clothes. His arms wrapped around her quickly, around her waist tightly, picking her up and spinning her softly.

Round’ round’ round’ round’

“I missed you too, sock monkey” he teased her and set her down, smiling at her.

“Hows your family” she asked dusting off his shoulders with a smiled. She was so excited to see him she couldn’t keep her excitement.

“They are great! Oh-um mom sent this for you” he said grabbing a medium sized box from his ship. Handing it to her, she smiled at the red ribbons before untying them. He eyes lit up seeing the lovely grey blanket she knew his mother handmade. She’d been asking for one of her chunky knit blankets forever now.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you- tell her I said thank you” she smiled up at Poe as she hugged the blanket.

“I’m sure she knows” he smiled at her and messed up her hair “it’s a queen size just for you” he chuckled, she wrapped herself in it, she moved it so much already. It faded from light to dark grey and smelled of apples and Poe’s ship. It made it more special.

“She didn’t have to do this” she said doing a spin with it like it’s a cape.

Round’ round’ round’ round’

Poe smiled at her and sighed contently before picking up the red ribbon she dropped, as she stopped he gently tied it up into her hair. She was a strong girl, like his mother said, mentally and physically, but around him she was so soft, like a flower. He loved it, she was comfortable with him. So after he tired they bow in her hair she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him to the captains quarters, or rather, Poe’s room.

She made quick work of getting him their, no running this time, specially since she had the door locked as she looked at him, laying the blanket over his desk. “I missed you...” she whispered walking towards him

“I know you missed me” he smiled at her “I missed you too” he whispered as she got closer.

Her hands ran up his chest slowly, her little fingers starting to undo his shirt as she looked into his chocolate eyes. “How much did you miss me?” She asked quietly before his hand lay on the small of her back, pulling her flush against him, leaning down and placing hot long kissed on her neck.

Saying all the rhymes that make your world go round’

“I missed you so much” he whispered against her skin, coating her neck in his thick saliva as he gripped her her back, his other hand running down her thigh in search of skin to touch. He felt starved now, even with her in his hands he felt so hungry. “I could tear you apart right now” he whispered and tore the front of her pants trying to get them open.

“Fuck- Poe” she whispered finally pushing his shirt off his shoulders as they stood in the middle of his quarters. “I liked those”

“I’ll buy new ones” he moaned and pushed his hand in, past her panties. He started on her clit quickly, rubbing it

Round’ round’ round’ round’

It made her let out a gasping moan as she started tearing his belt off, backing him up to the bed hungrily placing kissing on his skin. She pushed the rest of her jeans off along with her black panties, letting his hands go back to her needy clit as he moved to lay her on his bed.

“Let me show you” he moaned kissing down to the collar of her shirt

“Show me what?” She asked a little confused before he smirk and sucked on her clavicle.

“How much I missed you” he tore the shirt open, taking her bra with it. His lips attached to her right nipple quickly, his other hand massaging her perky breasts, his leg rubbing against her wet cunt with his rough jeans. She couldn’t keep her moans quiet, not now, not after how long she waited for him again.

Cupid pass another my way

Poe looked up at her with his big doe eyes as he sucked her nipples till they puffed up, switching back and forth till she was begging to be touch. “Poe! Poe please” she whined and tugged his graying hair, her hips aimlessly grinding on his thigh as he pressed it to her core.

“Please what?” He smirked and started his dissent down her body. “Go on tell me sock monkey” he chuckled and slowly pushed her thighs apart more as he kissed just over her slit, teasing bastard.

“Please eat my pussy- please- touch it- fuck it - anything just let me feel you” she whined looking down at him, he didn’t need to be told twice.

Another night, a lot more days

Quickly he sucked her clit into his mouth, sucking on it like an octopus on a rock. He smirked internally knowing her loud moans belonged to him. He took so much pride in knowing he’s the reason she made a symphony.

He held her thighs up the best he could but quickly they watched around his head like she was trying to suffocate him, he was okay with that. If he died here Poe Dameron would be a happy man.

“Poe!” She moaned and tugged his hair, pulling him closer before he pushed two fingers into her core, pumping them quickly in and out, massaging her G-Spot each time he pulled out. He knew her body like the back of his eyelids, he dreamt of her body. It was hard to think about her without needing to ‘be’ with her.

Hard to think about you anymore

(Y/n) soon arched her back and gasped for air as she tugged on his thick curls “I’m going to fucking cum” she whined and he pulled away from her clit, moving his fingers faster.

“Yea, baby? You gonna cum on my fingers or my tongue? Tell me baby, tell your general what you want” he purred in his cocky tone, she was putty, she melted in his hands like butter.

“Your tongue! Please!” She whined pathetically before he removed his fingers and gripped her hips tightly, shoving his tongue as deep as it could go, spelling his last night inside her, hopefully her future last name.

He knew by the way her hips shook she was blissed out before she screaming out in pleasure for him and lifted her hips to get away as she came. He wasn’t even done with her and she was painting his face. God she was gorgeous.

But I keep you in my mind always

It’s hard to look at her right now and not want to keep her like this always, shaking on his tongue as she came down. He worked her down from it as he kissed her up body, she needed this, but now they both need something a little different.

“Think you can take my cock baby?” He asked pushing her messy hair back.

“Y-yes- please give it to me” she looked up at him with her watery eyes. He chuckled and tapped his two wet fingers to her lips, this was a form of consent they shared for her second round. If she denied it she was done, if she opened her mouth and tasted it they continued.

She smiled at him and slowly opened her mouth, taking his thick fingers into her mouth and sucking the juices off them. She moaned at the taste as he smiled.

“Good girl” he praised undoing his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. “Always so good” he whispered to himself as he watched her, lifting her left leg to his shoulder as he got ready.

Called you on the phone last night

“Ready sock monkey?” He asked with a smiled, one hand holding her hip, the other on his cock.

“Yes general” she whispered and bit her lip, soon his thick cock was pushing past her entrance and into her needy cunt. They moth moaned and she grabbed her breasts quickly. Tweeting her nipples as he licked his lips, leaning down and kissing her lips deeply, slipping his tongue in for a heated kiss.

Quickly he pushed the rest of his fat veiny cock into her, right where it belongs. He let her get comfy as his hand moved from her him to her stomach, feeling over the little place it poked out. He loved seeing it bulge, he loved knowing that was his cock, and soon it would be his baby. What? Why is he thinking that right now.

“You feel so fucking good princess” he whispered and started moving slowly, she couldn’t even form words, she just laid their and tried not to cum again just from the pressures.

Couldn’t hear your voice, I fight

“Speak to me baby, let me hear you” he groaned and grabbed on of her hands, holding it above her head as he moaned. Going faster slowly.

“You-you fuck me so good” she whined in a pathetic whisper, he chuckled at her.

“Poor girl can’t even speak” he groaned in her ear and sped up. His balls slapping her ass as he fucked her tight little pussy into his mattress.

I won’t be around you anymore

He fucked her like it was his last time, he knew it wasn’t, he knew he’d always have her but something about this moment made him worried. Not about now or before, but after, when he tells her how he feels. He’s scared.

So right now all he cared about was fucking her like he was loosing her. So that’s what he did. He starting going to quick and leaving hickeys all over her she couldn’t even process, and the only thing she had to hold onto was his hand and his back.

“P-Poe! Poe I’m going to cum!” She screamed and clawed his back

“Cum- cum for me, let the whole base know” he whispered in her ear and kissed her again before she was busting all over him. Her moan was muffled for a moment before he pulled away and she screamed in such pleasure it probably woke The dead Jedi from their thousand year slumber.

I’m a dream where you feel alright

He was following close behind, drilling into her in a few rough thrusts before he came inside her, painting her inside like a diy Christmas ornament as he moaned her name.

Heavy breathing followed, until he laid beside her and held her hand. It was silent for a moment after they caught their breathes before they looked at each other and laughed. They can’t believe how loud they were, and that they couldn’t wait 5 minutes before tearing each other apart.

He smiled and leaned over kissing her after their little laugh, she smiled and gladly kissed back before looking at him. “I missed you” she whispered

“I’m glad” he chuckled and sat up in his elbow, looking down at her, pushing her hair back and kissing her head, nose, then lips.

I don’t really wanna run around

“There’s something a need to tell you” he whispered looking at her, her finger tips danced gently on his cheek as she smiled at him.

“What is it...?” She asked.

“I love you...” he admitted, she stopped moving her fingers and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Really?” She asked, looking over him for any signs he’s lying.

“Yea- I... have for awhile and I just never admitted to myself and - I thought... if I hide it I’ll never tell you and you’ll move on and find someone better and forget about me and run away- and have a family- and a husband- and two kids - and a spatcha farm and-“ she shut him up, leaning up and kissing him deeply.

Time is going slow and I don’t mind

She pulled away slowly and smiled at him, looking him in the eyes “I love you too, Poe” she admitted with a smile “Ive lover you for what seems like forever I just- I knew you were a relationship guy so I... I pushed it back”

“Oh- I thought you didn’t like relationships” he said

“Oh I don’t, but I liked you that much”

“Liked?” He asked offended

“Yea, liked, I love you now silly” she poked his nose and giggled, he smiled and kissed her lips happily.

Tell me if I’m really found

“ can I ask you something else then?” He asked getting you and grabbing the blanket and his pants, digging in his pockets for something.

“Yea, anything” she smiled at him, sitting up on her elbows as he got back in bed with her. And pulled something from his pants pocket she thought she’d never see, not now at least. A small ring, in the center was a large pink tinted diamond, paired with two smaller diamonds on the side, all set on a silver band.

“Poe...” she whispered

“I know it’s- odd timing but in reality we’ve been together for years without a label and I’d like to label that’s now as engaged and soon we will label it as The Dameron’s ... if you’ll let me, I’d like to marry you... and share the rest of my life with you and whatever the galaxy has to offer...” he smiled at her and grabbed her hand. She smiled at him happily and nodded

“Yes! Yes I’ll marry you! Of course I’ll marry you!” She hugged him tightly and kissed him. She didn’t feel any happier then in this moment with him. Finally she could officially be with the man she loved and she didn’t have to hide any of it in fear of rejection, it was them against the galaxy now, and they were proud of it. They got it right.

Fuck around a bit and get it right

Tag list: @a-dorin @everythinggeeky @onabouteverything @blxwjobsforclones @jediminddicks1000 @poeticandors @thisis-theway @petalsrdead @cedric-and-zukos-wife @patersonshoney @obiwkenobi

[doreamu-san]

An analysis of SolKy

Hello! Thank you so much for clicking on this. A while ago, I was asked to do an essay explaining why people ship SolKy other than the whole rivals/opposites attract reason, and I got a lot of feedback stating it was useful for newcomers to the ship! As a result I’ve decided to post this on tumblr, but just on the ship’s tag as to not bother uninterested people.

A couple of disclaimers before I begin. This is firstly just my own opinion, so whilst it makes sense for me, other shippers may disagree with my points. I’m also not claiming they are canon because they are not. But I do hope it’ll give some insight into why some people like me enjoy them together.

Even once you’ve read this essay, you can still dislike SolKy. This isn’t an essay stating you have to ship them.

This will be extremely long as I basically cover every single interaction they’ve ever had with each other since I know some people sort of gloss over their dialogue, so grab yourself a drink, get comfy, and I hope you enjoy reading!

(Last edited: 09/05/2021. This will be updated again when Strive releases!)

How this all began

If we’re starting right at the beginning, it’s common knowledge that Ky and Sol weren’t exactly on great terms and often clashed most of the time due to their conflicting beliefs. Ky saw the world in terms of black and white, and had very strict rules on what constituted as right and wrong. Sol seemed to think differently and went against that, which was a stark contrast compared to the other Order members at the time.

Considering that they were in fact, in the middle of a war, you would think that generally people would be willing to put their differences aside and work together.

But Sol wasn’t like everyone else, going off and doing his own thing instead of actually listening to orders, so it’s understandable why Ky found him rather irritating.

However, Ky did grow curious of Sol. Obviously curiosity does not equate to love, but it is the basis of Ky wanting to become more friendly with and know more about Sol. There seemed to be something that Sol knew but Ky didn’t, but how was that possible..? As a result, despite how infuriating he could be, Ky sought to seek out the truth and so fought him for answers.

In regards to why exactly they fight (aside from the fact that this is a fighting game), Ishiwatari wrote something called ‘Hostility is Akin to Love’ right above a picture of them fighting:

Hostility is akin to love Thinking of your opponent’s actions to fight, Reading your opponent’s inner thoughts to fight, Planning attacks that will hit your opponent to fight, And then transmitting your thoughts with those attacks, The more you think of your own advantage, at the same time you think of your opponent, In the instant you mix with your opponent, a passionate feeling arises, and blood boils, Reality is hurt, and you wound your opponent, Hostility is akin to love. — Guilty Gear Isuka Mook

It states how fighting someone can be close to feelings of love because you have to think about what your opponent is doing, as well as how you’re going to respond to your opponent. Overtime, you start to memorise how your opponent thinks, and as a result you’ll know them on a deeper level.

So considering the above, this explains how even though they weren’t on friendly terms, they still formed a bond with one another.

Now we’ve established how exactly their relationship started, and why Ky was curious about Sol in the first place, let’s look at things from Sol’s perspective.

Sol’s attitude towards Ky

We know that Sol was also pretty annoyed by Ky, which was totally justifiable given the extreme way in which Ky thought the world worked. But Sol didn’t exactly dislike Ky.

In order to provide some evidence that Sol cares about Ky, let’s cover that infamous scene everyone likes to reference which shows Sol crying over Ky’s dead body:

Sol:     "I came to pick you up." Ky:      "Always coming late... you never could fix that..." Sol:     "You..." Ky:      "As to be expected... until the very end... I could never beat you..." Sol:     "Don't say anything!" Ky:      "I have... a request..." Sol:     "I said shut up!" Ky:      "After Commander Kliff... carry on... the Holy Order..." Sol:     "Stop it... that's your job!" Ky:      "Please... promise me..." Sol:     "Dammit..." Ky:      "If it's you... you can do..." Sol:     "Hey.... what's wrong. Hey! KYYYYYY!" — Guilty Gear XX Drama CD Side Red, Battle of Rome — Deathmatch

A lot of people bring this quote up when discussing SolKy and yes, it does show Sol cares about Ky considering how Sol never really cares about anyone in general, but the fact that Ky’s death managed to make him emotional shows what an impact Ky had on him. There are however more quotes that show Sol’s feelings.

There’s this scene in the GG Xtra manga, Ky and Sol get attacked by a mountain-sized gear. In order to save them, Sol rips off his limiter and Dragon Installs. This scene is very poignant when you take into consideration what Sol said in After Story A:

Sol:     "Back during the Crusades, before we met... Kliff told me this rumour about a prodigy swordsman." Sol:     "If you couldn't guess, that was you. I didn't give a shit at the time..." Sol:     "But then I saw you on the battlefield." Sol:     "I saw someone out there who surpassed all of my expectations. Or perhaps I should say 'something.'" Sol:     "No openings, no wasted movements, no carelessness, no hesitation, no embarrassment, not even any honor. No chivalry or mercy. A being unaffected by emotion." Sol:     "You were a killing machine. Taking down gears with brutal efficiency." Ky:      "...That was a long time ago." Sol:     "I'm not done talking. I've seen the face of the 'serious' Ky." Sol:     "Then one day, you challenged me." Sol:     "You wanna know what I thought right then?" Ky:      "..." Sol:     "I was afraid. Hell, I was scared shitless." Sol:     "'He figured out that I'm a Gear, and he's come to kill me.' That's what I thought." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, After Story A

Sol admits that he knows just how scary Ky can be. Since Ky was extremely against Gears, if Ky found out that Sol was a Gear, then Ky would have most likely attempted to kill him. But Sol knew this and was willing to die for Ky’s sake, and transformed anyway:

Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      (Really... that's really..) Ky:      (That's really you!?) Ky:      "SOL!" Sol:     "Shut it..." Sol:     "I didn't do it..." Sol:     "To help you out—...." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

Going off on a bit of a tangent from Sol’s feelings, but I just want to point out Ky’s state of mind at this point. Ky in this time period was still very anti-Gear, as it was only through this moment and his encounters with Solaria and Dizzy later that made him change his way of thinking. It took a long time for Ky to accept Gears, and he still had the remains of that mindset in him when he had Sin, as he refused to make eye contact with him because Ky was ashamed of having a Gear child. So the fact that Ky knew Sol was a Gear, believed all Gears were evil, but still decided to accept Sol into his life and wanted to support him regardless of that, is interesting.

Back to Sol, another small quote that manages to show Sol’s feelings towards Ky is this:

Sol:     (Maybe I'll finish them off while I'm at it...) Sol:     (But that would mean breaking my promise to Ky...) — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 2

Now, Sol doesn’t care about 99% of what other people do as long as they don’t get in his way. The fact that he intends to keep his promise with Ky suggests that he holds Ky in somewhat ‘high’ regards compared to others.

There’s also this quote that shows Sol is thinking about Ky in Overture:

The frustrations of the man wielding a giant sword were piling day by day, and a familiar face appeared in his head. What’s he up to right now? ��Hmph, whatever…” With a feeling of self-contempt, Sol Badguy shook his head. What am I getting sentimental for? — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #0 “Noise”

And when Sol encounters Raven later on after seeing Ky incapacitated, Raven points out how he can tell Sol is upset, meaning Sol’s not really doing a good job of pretending he’s still indifferent to Ky.

Raven: "You're as ruthless as ever, huh, monster?" Sol:      "Look who's talking." Raven: "Can you not put down your sword and talk? I understand you're upset with Ky Kiske defeated." Sol:      "I'll ask your corpse for answers." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #5 "Gaze of the Chronicle"

Sol’s thoughts about Ky become even clearer during his confrontation with Sin when he’s under the influence of Valentine, where Sol defends Ky’s actions and tries to make Sin understand Ky is not 100% at fault:

Sin:     "Can you see it? Can you feel it? This is my real power. This is my mother's strength." Sol:     "But it's light. It must be from your father." Sin:     "Shut up! Don't ever mention him!" Sin:     "He abandoned my mother and me using justice as an excuse!" Sin:     "Who cares about the King!? Who cares about the people!? That man, and that Kingdom, not one of them can protect a damn thing!" Sol:     "I don't give a damn about your family." Sol:     "But you know what, Ky may be a stubborn idiot, but at least he's true to his beliefs." Sol:     "A punk like you is still alive thanks to his justice." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #15 "Roaring Compass"

Okay, that’s the pre-Xrd era for Sol done, now to focus on Ky’s pre-Xrd’s emotions.

Ky’s attitude towards Sol

We’ve established earlier that Ky was annoyed by Sol and disliked him in the Crusades. However, afterwards it seems as if Ky saw himself as friends with Sol:

Ofc1:   "All of them seem to have been destroyed by... fire?" Ofc2:  "Yeah... why could that be?" Ky:      "........" Ky:      "Change our course!" Ky:      "Head towards the Eastern United States!" Ofc1:   "May I ask why, Chief Ky?" Ky:      "To meet an old friend." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 4: Former Friends

We know that Ky outwardly expressed his first signs of liking Sol when Sol stole the Fuuenken and Ky chased after him, only for Sol to win in their duel, and Ky says this:

Ky:      "Promise me one thing..." Sol:     "..What?" Ky:      "We'll meet again." Sol:     "Hmph... Well, if fate brings us together..." Ky:      "..That's fine." — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 1

It’s pretty interesting that Ky wanted to see Sol again despite how Sol never used to listen to his orders, and how Sol never even tried to act like what the Order expected their men to act like (chivalrous, putting the people first, etc). It at least shows us that Ky saw possibly the potential of becoming friends with Sol. And Sol didn’t even say straight up ‘no’ or ‘in your dreams’ or whatever Badguy-esque notion he usually would’ve done, so we can assume he doesn’t mind seeing Ky again either.

Then they don’t speak to each other properly for 5 years until the tournament that Testament holds, though they have probably ran into each other a few times within those years.

A common misconception people have is that during those 5 years, Ky was obsessed with Sol and would constantly try to find him. Obviously, this is not true. Ky was busy with IPF stuff and Sol was hunting Gears down.

However, it’s not as if Ky completely forgot about Sol — he was just probably at the back of his mind, and Ky does admit that he has been chasing after Sol the most more than anyone else:

Ky:      (Waiting outside for me when I left the ship... burning red flames. Soon, they seem to take the shape of a man... and he appears before me. Yes... it's him. The one I've been after the most... it's him.) — Guilty Gear X Drama CD, Vol. 1: Track Seven — Crater

There’s also these two other quotes:

Ky:      (Sol...) Ky:      (Why are you so stubborn about doing things alone?) — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

You can interpret this in two ways: either Ky wants to help Sol out and/or he’s curious as to why Sol always does stuff alone.

And then there’s this:

Ky:      "Maintaining peace, law, and order. That is my duty." Sol:     "Whatever..." Ky:      "You and I, we are cut from the same cloth." Ky:      "How long are you going to keep that facade?" Sol:     "..." Ky:      "Answer me Sol!" — Guilty Gear Judgment, Sol and Ky Ending

Being ‘cut from the same cloth’ is quite a strong statement. The phrase means that Ky thought he and Sol were similar somehow, and that he shared something with Sol. Regardless, the ‘how long are you going to keep that facade’ at least shows that Ky knows Sol is intentionally acting distant/rough/etc. and that its not actually who he is.

Jumping to pre-Overture, just before Ky gives Sin to Sol, Ky is in a really depressive state due to all of the stress he’s been going through. This leads Dizzy to contact Sol. The fact that Sol is called means that Dizzy knows that Sol is possibly the only person who can help Ky at that point, which puts some emphasis on just how much Sol means to Ky or at least affects him.

Before I move onto Xrd, there’s this part where Ky gives his son to Sol. This proves he trusts Sol so much considering he was asking him to take care of Sin for a long period of time.

Ky:      “Sol....I want to request something...” Sol:     “...hnn?” Ky:      “My son....Sin..can you take care of him for a while?” Sol:     “...what did you say?” Ky:      “I know it’s unreasonable but...I still want to ask...” — GG2: Overture Story, Sol's Story

The Xrd era (because it is so long, it needs its own section)

The Xrd era is extremely interesting to me, because Sol and Ky have some more in-depth conversations, and boy, do they have a lot of conversations.

Focusing on Sol first, theres a scene in REV where Sol asks Ky why he isn’t interested in his past:

Sol:     "Why don't you ask me already?" Ky:      "Ask you what?" Sol:     "About my past." Ky:      "I can ask you?" Sol:     "I guarantee, it won't be interesting." Sol:     "Every other word that came out of your mouth was 'Duel me,' or 'I challenge you!' You were so eager to fight and..." Ky:      "........" — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

Given that Ky was constantly pestering Sol about his background in the past, it makes sense why Sol is suddenly a bit confused about Ky’s sudden change in behaviour. But it also shows that Sol wants Ky to know about his past. After ~170+ years of being alive, Sol wants to finally open up to someone again, and he specifically chose Ky for this. It shows in the very least Sol trusts Ky and knows him well enough to decide to let him know about who he used to be.

And then Ky says this, which is basically him just showing Sol how much he cares and understands him:

Ky:      "Sol. Of course I have an interest in your past." Ky:      "But wanting to understand someone and trying to understand everything is completely different." Ky:      "Right now, Sol Badguy's future matters much more to me, than Frederick's past." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

There’s also this scene in SIGN:

Ky:      "I don't know your history." Ky:      "I don't know if you had friends once, or if you fell in love, or why you burn with such hatred for That Man and the Gears..." Ky:      "I don't even know your real name." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "But I do know a great deal about a man named Sol Badguy." Ky:      "Blinded by vengeance, he lost sight of himself, and now he runs from the truth that frightens him." Sol:     "...Say that again." Ky:      "Tomorrow always comes, Sol." Sol:     "..!" Ky:      "If tomorrow promises to be cold and dark, I cannot stand idly by... even if I know my efforts will come to nothing." Sol:     "... The self-righteous apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Ky:      "I don't expect the world to change tomorrow, but I do hope that, today, perhaps my words will reach you." Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      "I'll be waiting for you. We'll all be waiting for you. Sin, Dizzy..." Ky:      "Once all this is over... come home." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

Three things to take away from this:

Ky admits that he doesn’t know anything about Sol’s background, but that he knows a lot about the current Sol, and then goes on to explain how Sol acts. Which to expand on, means that although Ky used to care about Sol’s past, he doesn’t really mind about it anymore because Sol’s past won’t really change much who Sol is to Ky now. Also, the part where Ky explains how Sol was ‘blinded by vengeance,’etc. shows that Ky knows Sol’s current personality well enough in order to be able to distinguish his behaviours. Which is interesting because nobody has been around Sol long enough to be able to know him really well unlike Ky (Aria and Asuka count too, but they were around Sol when he was Frederick, and Sol seems pretty adamant on the idea that he’s a separate person from Frederick.)

‘Come home’ is pretty significant, as it implies that it’s almost like Ky is saying home is with Sin, Dizzy and the Valentines, and so when Sol is done getting revenge on That Man, instead of letting Sol just wander off alone, Ky wants Sol to be a family with them.

The fact that says Ky says ‘I’ll be waiting for you’ separate from ‘we’ll all be waiting for you’ implies that either Ky’s want to wait for Sol is somehow different from everyone else’s or it’s just for the sake of being dramatic. I interpreted this in both ways, as it seems like Ky knows that Sol treats him differently compared to others. So in a sense, by Ky emphasising that he’ll be waiting for Sol, it might make Sol more likely to ‘come home’.

There’s also a scene that shows Ky knows Sol’s personality well:

Ky:      "When I look at you, Sol, I see a man who is afraid." Sol:     "... What?" Ky:      "It became clear when I watched you caring for Sin." Ky:      "You work very hard to keep everyone at arm's length." Sol:     "..." Sol:     "I got Gear blood in my veins, and it ain't friendly. It's always there in the back of my head, whispering that I oughta just destroy all of this." Sol:     "The only way I'm gonna get some closure is tracking down That Man and beating some answers out of him." Sol:     "And if he doesn't have 'em..." Sol:     "Then maybe there really isn't a good way to live." Ky:      "That's why you close your heart off." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

There’s also this:

Ky:      "Not all people have the strength to stand on their own." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "If only life were simple, and the right path was laid out before each of us..." Ky:      "But even then some would leave it, and some would struggle with walking it. Such is human nature..." Ky:      "The truth is that no path will ever be 'right' for all people. Each of us must find the one we are meant to walk--and sometimes that is where none exists." Ky:      "That is what I learned from you." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

This just shows that Ky actually learnt something from Sol. Which I think is important because Ky is someone who always used to be very strict to his ideals. The fact that he learnt something from Sol that had an impact on his mindset means that Sol actually managed to have a great impact on Ky.

There’s this scene where Sol finds out that Aria isn’t dead when he confronts That Man, and he has somewhat of a mini mental breakdown. So Ky excuses them from the room, and goes outside to talk with Sol:

Ky:      "Sol. The grudge you hold is certainly not something that can be taken lightly. And, whatever answer you think you've found, I doubt any of us will be able to stop you from seeing it through..." Ky:      "But we have very little time left. Right now, we need the Gear Maker's help." Ky:      "So, I'm begging you... Just for now. Why don't you stay outside with me." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 06, Cause A

The last line that Ky says is interesting because it’s obvious that he’s just trying to calm Sol down, and Ky thinks that if he stays with Sol outside for a bit, he’ll be able to help him calm down. Furthermore, Ky thought it was more necessary to pause everything and help Sol out rather than keep listening to the plans of what their next course of action would be.

Ky does have the habit of comforting Sol. One of the more significant moments is whenever Sol refers to himself as a monster:

Ky:      "Yes, he took away some of what makes you human, but that doesn't mean he altered your mind or your soul." Sol:     "So what?" Ky:      "I want to believe that you'll fight for the people of this world." Sol:     "Are we seriously having this conversation?" Sol:     "Look, kid. I'm a monster. I'm here to do two things: Destroy That Man, and kill all the other Gears." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

To expand a little on Sol’s mindset, it’s common knowledge that Gears were generally in the past regarded as akin to monsters. Now we don’t have any solid proof Sol is referring to himself as a monster because he’s a Gear, or because he feels guilt about the whole Gear Project, etc. But we do know it’s something he’s affected by given that he constantly refers to himself as one.

So the fact that Ky constantly reassures him that he’s not one, and that Ky didn’t treat him differently after finding out he was a Gear, must be comforting to know.

Then at the end of REV, there’s the scene where Daryl is about to shoot Sol, because he (quite rightly) doesn’t trust the fate of the world to be left to Sol. And so, the kids get beamed up, but Ky asks to be left behind:

Ky:      "But, if you plan on targeting Sol, then you must leave me behind, as well." Daryl: "What!?" Zappa:"60 seconds until impact..!" Sol:     "What the hell are you doing?! Stay with Sin!" Ky:      "I am well aware that this is a one in a million chance..." Ky:      "But, if I survive at the expense of my dear friend, then there is little reason left for my ruling this world as king." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Final Chapter, Fireworks

This was a really odd moment because Ky’s life was never in danger at that moment. If he had been sent on board Daryl’s ship as originally planned, he would have been safe. But Ky intentionally chose to risk his life, and its kind of startling because Ky has always put his people above everything. There were times when he put the people above his own family, like when he kept his family a secret instead of coming out with the truth about them in order to remain as King to protect his people.

So Ky suddenly going ‘I would rather die with Sol than take care of my people’ is really extreme. Also Ky was willing to leave his family behind, which is even more extreme. So this just really proves how highly Ky regards Sol considering how he would rather die with him than live without him.

Some concluding notes

I think Sol and Ky’s personalities do work really well. Perhaps not in the Crusade era, but if we take a look at the Xrd era, they have shown to get along and have deep conversations with one another that they both enjoy. They know each other extremely well; they know how to support one another when life gets a bit too much and they’re also capable of telling one another when the other is wrong.

Sol teaches Ky that life isn’t as simple as it seems, and that (figuratively speaking) he shouldn’t stick exactly to the textbook. He’s able to see under that perfect image Ky puts up about him being able to cope with everything, acting as a source of stability when you consider how Sol has been the only person who’s been around Ky since the very beginning.

Throughout all of Ky’s life, he’s been under so much pressure. From being Commander in the Crusades, to becoming the Head of the International Police Force, to becoming King. In every situation, people are constantly relying on him, and his environment is changing rapidly. But despite everything, Sol has always remained the same. He looks the same, acts the same, etc. Ky can rely on Sol and trust Sol. He’s like a source of stability for Ky in those hectic times.

And Ky provides something similar to Sol too, given how often he ran into Sol time and time again. When you’ve been alive for so long, it’d feel reassuring in the very least to see a familiar face. And Sol does seem to get less annoyed each time they meet each other again, considering like how in Overture he voluntarily went to go see Ky after seeing himself on a wanted poster.

Ky also gives Sol the chance to open up to people again and form connections with them, something that Sol has been reluctant to do. Sol needs someone to care about him, and Ky proves that by constantly reassuring him and never giving up on trying to help Sol, even though he kept getting pushed away.

They may not be canon but I really do love how they work together. Yes it’s true some people may like them because they are ‘rivals’and seeing rivals get together and bicker is great, but actually I think when people focus more on how much they support and rely on each other, as well as the fact that they do get along, them being in a relationship is more convincing.

Whilst this essay focused on their canon interactions, there’s plenty of other great material out there. For instance, the Guilty Gear 4KomaKINGS manga provides plenty of great SolKy interactions (like the time Ky wanted to have a friendship diary with Sol, only to get rejected and start crying about it. Of course, take these interactions with a pinch of skepticism considering the frivolity of the source material.)

And that, was my very long SolKy essay. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading! Though you may not have agreed with everything I have said, you still continued reading, and I am grateful for that. Thank you for showing such enthusiasm and loving this franchise.

[galacticwildfire]

found.

Twelve.

Pairing: Kenobi!oc x Din Djarin

Summary: Satine and Obi-wan’s daughter fought in the war against the Empire and lost her faith when she lost Mandalore. Until she found him. A lone Mandalorian searching for a Jedi.

Warnings: lots of killing and nearly dying, Cara doing her best to get them together but failing, dark side stuff, some fluff at the end. swearing.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: next chapter it diverges from canon, there’ll be a few chapters in between now and meeting Ahsoka, Leia is coming up in the next two chapters, they going on a trip to the core worlds.

~

~

~

Cara and I walk ahead of the boys and I already know what this is about. 

"How much shit did you give him?"

"Only a little," she says but I know her better than that. "Only fair I give you some as well."

I go for denial, using my general voice as I ask her "Are men and women not allowed to be friends now Cara?"

"Not when they're eye-fucking constantly."

I elbow her in the ribs and she just laughs. "That's what I thought."

"Did you have this much of a mouth on you when I was your commanding officer."

"I did, which was why you liked me," she says and it's hard to be mad at her because it's true. "Please tell me you aren't as stubborn as he is with admitting what's going on between the two of you."

"Cara, if you think I haven't become more stubborn with age you're in for a shock," I inform her.  "And there's nothing going on."

"You sure about that?" she asks and all I can hear is him last night, when I was half asleep leaning on his shoulder with the blanket he wrapped around me.

Sweet dreams Mesh'la

My hand comes up to rub my shoulder, my eyes pressed shut for a moment as I try to forget.

"I'm sure."

"You're an awful liar you know that right."

"Look Cara, I don't have a great track record with men," I say, while we fought together in the field my love life has remained quite separate from everything else. While it's common enough knowledge I was with Lando, nobody outside my family knows about the last bounty hunter. "I left the last one so I could keep doing my job instead of settling down, and I don't plan on that changing."

Yet I can't help but taste the lie on my tongue the moment it leaves my mouth.

"And so this isn't your job now?" she asks and I suddenly regret not being stricter with her, while I was strictly formal with most of my soldiers I liked her enough that we became friends. "But you know that you've got him some type of way."

I just laugh at that. "We're talking about the same guy right?"

"You mean the one who's been staring at you since you two hopped off that ship and I bet fifty credits he's staring at you right now."

While she glances over her shoulder I don't have to. I can feel his gaze melting into me.

"So what if he's looking at me?" I counter. "He's observant, vigilant. It's nothing."

"You two are perfect for each other" she says sarcastically as she shakes her head.

"And why's that?"

"You're the biggest idiots in the galaxy."

"Oh no," I say shaking my head. "If you knew my history with men you'd very much agree drawing that line is the smartest thing I've done in my life."

And with that I decide to finish the conversation and turn back around to the boys, the sudden action makes Din halt.

"So Magistrate Karga," I begin with a lighter voice than what I typically use when I'm presenting myself as a general, my mother did raise me to follow after her even if she underestimated just how much I took after my father. "As much as I've loved catching up with my old friend here, what's this business you want our assistance with?"

Cara gives me a knowing look and I offer a self-satisfied smirk in return. I'm not being interrogated, not by her, and certainly not today.

"Just this way Duchess," he says and I wait for him and Din to catch up before I keep walking.

The two of us share a mutually exasperated look as he comes to my side, as ironic as it is to try to deny it. There is a difference between strangers assuming we're together and our friends relentlessly taunting us over it.

We're led into a building and Din lets me enter first, my eyes settling on a Mythrol working on some computers.

"This is Kyra Kenobi, Rebellion General and Duchess of Mandalore," Greef says and the man looks confused before Din steps in and there is pure fear. "And as for my friend here I believe you two have met."

Something like steam is expelled from his gills and I realise he and Din have most certainly met.

"I'm surprised to see you here."

"Right back at ya," he says anxiously and I can't help how the corner of my mouth tilts upwards as I glance at Din.

"Mythrol here's taken care of my books since he was a pollywog," Greef tells us. "But then he disappeared one day after a bit of creative accounting."

"Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt," the Mythrol swallows, glancing between Din and I. "Thank you by the way."

"Three hundred and fifty years, but who's counting?"

"Well if he runs off on you again let me know," Din says and I can't help the proud half smile on my face.

"Let me assure you, I do not want to spend any more time in carbonite," he says and I look at Din who stands a little too proudly. "Still can't see outta my left eye."

"Carbonite's nasty but it does the job," I say much to Din's surprise as well as the Mythrols. "I was actually there the first time it was ever used on a bounty, he was fine but oh the effects are certainly long lasting."

Din's is even more surprised by that and leaves Karga slightly disturbed.

"You aren't here to take me away are you General?" Mythrol asks and I laugh dismissively.

"That's beneath my job description."

"Speaking of which can we talk business?" Cara asks and now I'm the one raising my eyebrows at her.

"Now you want to talk business?"

I hear a muffled choke come from the back of Din's throat which he attempts to cover up by clearing his throat.

"We're only here for repairs," Din says and his desperation to get out of this room further confirms my suspicions that Cara gave him an earful.

"Which will take a while. Which means you'll have free time on your hands right?"

"We have time," I tell Din knowing Ahsoka likely won't be going anywhere and he sighs reluctantly.

"We could really use your help," Greef says glancing between us. "Both of you."

"What kind of help?" I ask, already having an inkling it's my line of work.

Cara opens up a hologram. "This is Nevarro. We're here. This entire area's a green zone. Completely safe." She zooms in on a base. "But over here's the problem. Which is right up your ally."

"It's an old Imperial base," Greef tells us and I almost get excited. "And who better to help us than the best rebel there ever was."

"Has this base caused any trouble for you before?" I ask and a silence settles over them all. "I'll take that a yes then?"

"It's where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon," Cara elaborates and I remember what Greef told me. Din only told me Gideon was dead, he hadn't given me the whole story. Especially not how he took Gideon down in an admiral act of madness. But now I know. "This base has been here since the Imperial expansion. It's got a skeleton crew but for some reason it hasn't been abandoned."

"The Empire is upping its security," I tell her bitterly. "Old freighters that are meant to have skeletons crews now have entire squadrons transporting brand new state of the art weapons. You can bet that it will be manned by far more than a skeleton crew."

"Then you might be interested," Greef says hopefully. "There's a lot of heavy weaponry in that place the black market would love to dismantle and get their hands on."

That definitely piques my interest, something Din notices and he asks me "This is the type of thing you've been looking for right?"

"Definitely," I answer, he may be reluctant but he isn't arguing. "This past year or so I've noticed Imperial activity escalating in the outer rims, something the Republic doesn't want to admit since Mon Mothma is set on demilitarising. I've been looking for proof that they can't deny, I've got some but whatever is in this base might just seal the deal."

"So you'll do it?" Greef asks and a satisfied smile spreads across my face.

"Magistrate Karga, Imperials are my speciality."

"Now that's what I like to hear," he grins. "And you Mando, you going to let your lady take care of this on her own, not that she isn't capable of course, or are you going to tag along?"

At this point I hardly even react to being called his lady, it's certainly the most polite way it's been phrased and there's no dissuading either of them from that opinion anyways.

Din looks at me and despite how much I want to prove Cara wrong I know I must have some effect on him when he doesn't even sigh before agreeing. "I'll come."

With that we head outside, Karga and Cara going to prepare but Din and I hang back a little out of earshot to talk.

"Thank you," I say to him quietly. "I know this isn't quite what we agreed upon."

"It's a given at this point that we're going to end up shooting up Imperial bases," he says in resignation then tilts his helmet towards me. "But I don't mind."

"You don't?"

"You weren't wrong with what you said on Trask, people like us, we live for the fight," he says and I feel something light up within me at those words. "Or in my case for the hunt."

"As long as the kid is safe first and foremost," I finish for his sake and he nods in agreement, his body easing in relief.

"That's my main priority, but it doesn't mean you aren't one," he says and I know I must quite visibly be taken by surprise. "You have a job, a purpose, I can't expect you to just forget it for the kid. You respect my creed and the child's safety above all else, and I respect the work you're doing out here. I respect you. It's a compromise I'm happy to make."

And something blooms in my chest that I haven't felt in so long. Except this time it's accompanied by something even more crucial, trust.

"Thank you Din," I say, comfortably knowing we're out of earshot of Cara and Greef. "And I do respect you. Your creed, what you do for the kid. All of it. You're a good man Din Djarin."

I feel how his body almost seizes up at those words, as if in disbelief. "I wouldn't go that far."

"But I will," I say, truly seeing it even if he can't. "It's true, even if you can't believe it."

"If you knew the things I've done-"

"You're a bounty hunter, I know what you do," I reply calmly, but he isn't Boba. He couldn't be more different. "I know better than most, and you're unlike any bounty hunter I've ever met. You are a good man."

I hear his shaky intake of breath but before he can reply we hear Cara calling out to us, telling us to hurry up, and we do before we can dig ourselves deeper into this hole.

~

We ride by speeder to the base, a tension hanging between Din and I who sit side by side. One I know the others can feel.

But aside from that I'm feeling quite optimistic at the thought of storming an Imperial base, happy even, which Din notices.

"You look like you have a good feeling about this." 

"I've missed this, it reminds me of the good old days," I say knowing how strange it must seem that the war was the good days. "Storming Imperial bases, working on my saber skills. It's been a while."

"You stormed an Imperial freighter days ago," he points out with that dry humour of his.

A smile twitches at my lip as I tell him "It's not the same."

"There's a reason we left when they wanted us to be peacekeepers," Cara says and we exchange a smile. "And look at us now."

"A Marshall and an honourary General who's a pain in the Chancellors ass," I say proudlu.

"She doesn't like you does she?" Cara asks which is something Din and Greef seem very surprised by.

"Why wouldn't she?" Greef asks in bewilderment and Din tilts his helmet at me in equal confusion.

"Let's just say they didn't like my mother, the Republic always thought she was difficult and the Rebel Alliance kept her out of the loop due to having been neutral in the Clone Wars," I tell them, remembering well my mothers insistance on neutrality, until the Empire decided otherwise. "So when the heir to Mandalore joined the alliance at sixteen they were hesitant to say the least, but oh they had no idea what was in store for them."

"And what was in store?" Din asks and I can't help the pride that rises in me.

"A Mandalorian."

And I feel the pride in him that we wear like beskar. The foundling Mandalorian who never removes his, and the Mandalorian Duchess who hasn't worn hers in years. But that doesn't change who we are. It doesn't make us any more or any less Mandalorian.

"So what's the plan?" he asks me but it's Greef who speaks.

"The whole base is powered by a reactor."

"We sneak in, overload the reactor, and get the hell out of there," Cara finishes and it sounds solid enough.

"Alright, while you do that I'll take a look around the base. Get whatever evidence I can," I decide knowing what I'll need to get the Mothma to acknowledge what's going on out here.

"You'll have to be fast," Din warns, and I can feel that concern in him. Not because he thinks I'm incapable, but solely because raising a toddler has left him constantly filled with worry.

"Don't you worry about me," I assure him. "I'll be just fine."

"There it is," Greef says pointing in the distance. "Right there. You see it?"

We come through the canyon and sure enough there it is.

"How close do you want me to drop you off?" Mythrol asks.

"How about the front door?"

I look at Din beside me as Greef and Mythrol continue to bicker and can feel his eyes rolling back into his head beneath the helmet and smile.

Finally we arrive and jump out of the speeder. We come to an elevator and I get my saber out while Din works the controls.

"Controls are useless, they're melted."

"No problem," I say using the force to slide the door open and they all give me the same look to which I shrug my shoulders. "Jedi."

"Alright I'm heading back," Mythrol stammers, still seeming unnerved by Din and I. "Hit me up on the com, we could set up a rendezvous time."

"You park your gills right there until I say otherwise."

"No," I say reluctantly, something nagging at me that I know not to ignore. "He'll be useful. He's coming with us."

"Are you serious?" Cara asks, voicing what everyone's thinking.

"Yes," I say and Mythrol looks at me like it's a joke. "Do I need to tell you twice?"

"No General," he says quickly as he stumbles out of the speeder. "I've heard the stories, you won't have any trouble from me."

I nod in satisfaction and step inside the elevator then pause, feeling them. "There's troopers above. Cara, Mando, follow me up. Greef, Mythrol, stay down here until it's quiet."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Mythrol says as Cara and Din join me in the elevator.

"Don't shoot unless you have to," I instruct, knowing this isn't going to be just a skeleton crew. "We're sneaking in, don't want to draw unwanted attention."

"You got it," Cara says and Din nods in agreement as I work the controls inside until the elevator jolts and rises.

The doors open and there's only four. The moment I ignite my saber they freeze, instantly recognising me, the first one who goes to shoot I toss off the edge of the platform using the force and strike down the others before they can even think to run.

"You gonna leave some for us?" Cara asks and I grin back at them.

"Possibly." I poke my head over the edge and call out "You can come up now."

They both look at the body on the ground and back to me with equal looks of horror before quickly shuffling into the elevator.

"I almost forgot you could fling people across a room," Cara says and I can't tell if Din is disturbed or impressed, I'm guessing the latter. 

Greef and Mythrol walk out onto the platform and survey the area as I inspect the bodies, finding standard stormtrooper army.

"The reactor should be set in the heat shaft," Greef tells us as Cara walks near the edge. "If we drain the cooling lines this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes."

"Look," we hear Mythrol say and see him pointing at a covered up marauder. "It's a mint Trexler Marauder. Do you know how much we can get for this on the black market?"

"And it's gonna get vaporised like the rest of this base," Din says and I can hear the annoyance rumbling in his voice.

"Was this guy actually a bounty or did he just piss you off?" I ask and he sighs heavily.

"Both," he answers. "Now let's go."

"Alright, you guys handle the reactor and I'll get what I need," I tell them. "If you run into any trouble I'm sure you can handle it."

"Likewise," Din says and nods towards the controls for the door into the base. "You want to open that or should I?"

My lip tilts up as I push the door up with the force and ignite my saber but it's all clear. "Alright, we take security out then split up."

And so I guide us through the ship, Din and Cara taking out the camera's as we find our way to command and I sense soldiers inside.

"Shuttle bay, this is command," we hear from inside. "Shuttle bay, the security feed just went down, can you check your relay hub? Shuttle bay?"

Cara grabs the officer in a choke hold and knocks him out while Din and I work the security controls, shutting them all down and extracting the tapes.

"This will come in handy." 

We look to see Greef holding a code cylinder.

"Very handy indeed," I agree. "You better hang onto that, you'll need it to get to the reactor."

"I found the heat shaft."

"Go blow this place sky high," I tell them. "I'll get what I need."

Before I head off Din grabs my wrist and warns me "Remember to get out quick before the reactor blows."

"Don't worry dear, I'll be just fine," I assure him before we part ways.

While they head to the reactor I walk through the base after extracting everything I can from the command centre, and the deeper I go the more certain I am that isn't right here.

That there's something strange at work.

And so I let the force guide me until I stumble upon it. A place where it is so abnormally strong I don't want to see what waits inside.

"Command isn't responding," I hear an officer say as I silently enter the room. "Command come in."

I ignite my saber and they jump around to stare at me in horror. The moment they register the yellow blade they pull out blasters but not to fire upon me.

I freeze them both in place before they can fire on the controls. Immediately from their uniforms I know they aren't typical officers.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Jedi Master Kyra Kenobi," one grits between his teeth as he tries to desperately to pull the trigger on his blaster but he can't. "You- you should never have come here."

"The force brought me here," I answer and then out of the corner of my eye I see it. Giant tanks filled with life forms, each of them so strong with the force I've never felt, or seen, anything like it.

"I've seen many things in my time fighting the Empire," I tell them as I take a closer inspection. "But very few things have disturbed me as deeply as this."

I put a hand on the glass and look upon the grotesque lifeforms and feel it, the life within.

"This isn't a military base," I realise as I turn to look at the scientists, struggling against my grasp on them. "This is a lab."

And I see true fear in their eyes. "You don't know anything."

"But I do," I say as I step closer to them. Allowing myself to see clearly, not through my own eyes but through the force. "Cinder. Suicide before capture. You have orders to destroy everything here if you were ever caught."

It's then the sirens blare throughout the base and I realise my time is limited.

They won't tell me anything, but their data will.

"You will let me into the system," I instruct feeling the strength of the force, feeling their will to fight against it falter. "You will drop your blasters and let me into the system now!"

It's then Din and the others run in to find me throwing the scientists blasters across the room while holding them at lightsaber point as they let me into the system.

"Kyra?" I hear Din ask as they stare at the tanks in horror. "What the hell is this?"

"We're about to find out."

A hologram of another scientist appears.

"We replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure. There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then sadly the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we'll find another donor with a higher M-count though."

It's then I feel truly sick to my stomach as I realise the truth behind these experiments. So sick I feel Din's hand on my shoulder as my eyes glass over. 

"Midichlorians," I exhale shakily and the scientists eyes widen in terror at my realisation.

"I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him."

I look at Din in such horror I'm grasping his arm at the thoughts of what they've done to the child, what they plan to do. He couldn't even begin to imagine the true darkness that lies behind this.

"If these experiments continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon."

I bring a shaking hand up to cover my mouth while Din tries to rationalise it. "This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead."

I look at the scientists. "How old is this recording."

No mind tricks are required as I hold them in place.

"Three days old."

"If Gideon's alive then-"

Blaster shots fill the air and something inside of me snaps. I deflect the blaster shots, covering them until Din and Cara can clear the room then grab one of the scientists by the collar of his shirt.

"Kill me," he challenges and I shake my head.

"No, that would be mercy."

I cut his companion down knowing that I only need one and hold my saber to his throat. 

"Greef, I don't suppose I can borrow Mythrols cuffs?"

He nods, stunned, and very quickly cuffs the scientist as I stare at the tanks, feeling sick to my core.

"Mando, you're putting him in carbonite when we get back to your ship."

"Alright," he agrees as Cara grabs the scientist and holds him at blaster point. "But what's going on here, what do you know?"

I'm rendered incapable of speech as darkness fills my senses, true darkness I haven't felt in so many years. Something almost familiar-

I feel Din's hands cupping my face. "Kyra?" He can feel me shaking beneath his touch. "We need to get out of here."

My eyes focus on him and only then do I feel the tears staining my cheeks, but the darkness has me paralysed. "Kyra," he repeats wiping those tears away and whispers to me in Mando'a. "I don't know what's going on here, but I know you. Whatever this is you can fight it, for the kid, for me. We need to get the hell out of here." 

The mention of the child, of my padawan, pulls me from the darkness and I snap out of the daze of darkness with his hand's clutching my face. And then they come.

Blasterfire once again echoes through the room and I yell "Get to the ship, I'll hold them off."

Cara takes the prisoner with Greef and Mythrol following closely behind her, Din and I stay to fight.

But with two more appearing for each that falls and the reactor about to blow we know we need to get the hell out of here.

"I don't like these odds."

"Neither do I," I agree as we take cover behind the control panel. With the reactor due to blow any minute now and the sheer number of troops I really don't like these odds. "Get the kid, I'll hold them off."

"Kyra-" he begins to protest but I'm not having it.

"Get the kid and take him far away from here," I order as blaster fire begins to ricochet above us. "The Empire will get his hands on him over my dead body."

He grabs my hand tightly and swears to me "It's not going to come to that."

"Go," I repeat knowing he's the only one who can jet back to the town in time in case they come for the kid, and that I'm the only one who can hold them off for long enough. "Now!"

And I cover him. Deflecting the blaster fire until he can make it out towards the reactor to jet out, leaving me to fight my way through the base to retreat to the speeder. But standing between me and freedom is over a dozen troopers packed into a hallway, firing out at the platform where Cara and the others are. 

I look at my saber and by the time I reach the troopers they don't know what's hit them, not until they're dead on the ground and I deflect a blaster shot as I run onto the platform, only to see Cara is the one holding the blaster.

"You're alive," she breathes in relief. "Mando?"

"Jetted out of here to get the kid," I answer knowing he'd have to be at the school by now. "We need to get the hell out of here."

Then I hear them running, dozens upon dozens more troopers. "Get back!"

And with the fear, with the anger, with every bloody midichlorian in me that would die before letting any harm come to the child, I bring down the tunnel, collapsing it completely.

But I can feel the domino effect within and know our time is up.

"Speeder, now!"

We run to the elevator only for it to open to more troopers but we don't have time.

"Kyra!" Cara yells as she pulls the cover off the Trexler Marauder. It's crazy, but it will work.

I hold off the troopers as she gets it running, grabbing the terrified scientist by the throat and shoving him inside.

"It's about to blow," I tell her and she curses as she revs the engine, backing into the rubble I made, then the moment she launches us off of the platform it blows.

Lava erupts from the base and splatters around us as we catapult towards the canyon.

"It got us!' Mythrol yells and I look to find the back end of the vehicle aflame but we can't stop. I run to the back and stumble as the vehicle jolts against the rocks, smoke filling the cabin. By the time I reach the back it already has a hole burned through it, large enough that I can see the lava that chases us. 

Flames threaten to consume us until I use whatever strength's left in me to keep the flames at bay, blocking out the chaos and the darkness, until finally the vehicle comes to a halt and when I open my eyes we're safe in the canyon, the flames little more smoking sparks.

I let out a shaky breath of relief and look back to find everyone alright, well aside from the scientist who is a dishevelled mess on the ground. Knowing he's not going anywhere I step out of the gaping hole in the back of the vehicle and examine the mess we've left behind. It's impressive.

It's then I hear the familiar rumbling of the ship above and watch as it lands, unable to help my hazy smile as the landing platform lowers and he stands there with the kid in his arms.

I stumble forward and don't realise how much strength has been taken from me until I'm in his arms, hugging him in relief. "Din."

"Kyra," he breathes as my head falls against his shoulder and he holds me upright, cradling me and the child in his arms. "You're alright?"

"Told you I'd be fine," I smile breathlessly as the others emerge from the vehicle. "We all made it out."

I lift my head up enough to look at the child, my padawan, and back to Din. All restraint gone as I wrap my arms around them both, my hand cradling the back of Dins helmet as I embrace them both fully. And to my equal surprise and relief, he returns the embrace just as fiercely.

And despite the darkness that looms, I've never felt closer to the light.

A/N

Hey guys, thank you so much for all the comments reading them honestly makes my day, please follow my tumblr wildfirewildflower for updates and one-shots and shitposting in general.

[siennahrobek]

Warning - This is long

Chapter 11 – Saudade

Future Past

18 BBY

Luke is One year old

“Well, this is it. This is now my life,” Obi-Wan said, standing in the middle of his little hut, in the middle of the desert. There was nothing here, just sand and rock and bones. It would have been nice, a quiet place to meditate, if there wasn’t the looming threat of the empire, or the grief of losing the entirety of his people or the oppressive twin suns of the planet.

Perhaps if he left now, he could catch up with the resident herd of banthas. The nomadic life sounded fairly appealing at the moment.

“You know, when I said I wanted to just spend some time meditating in a cave, this is not what I meant,” he pointed out to the air. He wasn’t actually talking to anyone, he didn’t think anyone had even been listening. After all, he really was by himself.

“I’d say it is nicer than a cave.”

Until now, Obi-Wan’s old master didn’t really make casual conversation so his appearance, or rather, voice coming from thin air was a bit on the unexpected side. Their talks were mostly of the teaching variety.

He wondered what changed.

Perhaps it was him.

Maybe he was going crazy, and Master Jinn had to do something rather desperate so Obi-Wan wouldn’t lost his mind completely. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“I think I need a hobby,” the new hermit said with a nod. Yes, that seemed right.

“Do you really think you are going insane?”

Obi-Wan scowled, glancing around as if the speaking person would appear. Qui-Gon didn’t really appear, at least not in a way that Obi-Wan could see. He just heard his voice, clear as day. Or rather, clear as crystal or water or clear things. He didn’t know. Sometimes it felt hard to think. “Don’t read my mind,” he grumbled.

“I am apparition of the Force,” the voice was flat and steady, nearly laced intricately with sarcasm. Of course. “I couldn’t read minds when I was alive, what makes you think I can do it dead?”

The physically living master huffed, loud and dramatic, waving his arms as if that would make his point. “I don’t know what ghosts can do!” he nearly shouted. It wasn’t like anyone else could hear him. Even the closest person was many, many miles away.

Obi-Wan could almost hear his former master roll his eyes and feel his sarcasm and mock distain rise. “I’m not reading your mind. I can’t do that. I just know you.”

“I have changed a lot in the past fifteen years,” he shot out.

“Not as much as you think,” Qui-Gon hummed, a bit vaguely amused. His voice had quieted, softened but it still, as always, seemed so confident, so sure of himself. Obi-Wan wondered if he naturally had that type of pride and ego or if he had gotten it somewhere. Obi-Wan could probably use some of that, he mused as Qui-Gon continued to speak. “At your core, you are still the same. A jedi. Stubborn, protective, determined, persistent, good, kind, selfless. Just as you were as a padawan.” By the end of the list, Qui-Gon had almost, perhaps, sounded a bit even fond. Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure if he was a good judge of what it was.

“You did not see me that way.” The words were coming out when his brain had not given permission. It hardly mattered. Talking with ghosts.

“Now look who thinks he can read minds,” Qui-Gon contemplated, unperturbed and not so offended. He sounded a bit amused, like this was so ironic. He could find humor in anything, apparently, a skill Obi-Wan thought he once had. “I was very proud of you. I am still, exceedingly, proud of you.”

“Now I know I’m hallucinating,” he scoffed.

“Is it so hard to believe, of my pride? In you of all people?”

Yes, Obi-Wan thought. Of course, it is. How can anyone be proud of what he had done, of what had happened, what he had let happen? “You told me to train the boy,” he said, his voice strained and uneasy. He shook his head and fought back tears that threatened to leap forth from his eyes. “And look how that turned out? I did, I tried, I loved him. And now all the jedi are dead. The Sith have won and the galaxy has been left in oppressing darkness.”

There was a brief silence, a contemplation of words. “That is not your fault, Obi-Wan. You are not the one to blame. His choices were his own.” Qui-Gon’s voice was kind and soft, and Obi-Wan could just barely remember the few times, even early in his apprenticeship where Qui-Gon hadn’t been completely upset and regretful with him where he used that tone. When Obi-wan had a vision, or a dream, as Qui-Gon liked to call him. When Obi-Wan was scared and there was no immediate danger to Qui-Gon’s other loved ones. The beginning of their relationship had been more than just a little rocky but that just meant their bond had grown strong through those trials. It had taken long, and it had taken work, but eventually, they made it. And they had been amazing.

“I loved him,” Obi-Wan groaned. “I did not see what he had become.”

“No one had,” Qui-Gon replied, his voice lowering. “You did so well, Obi-Wan. You tried so hard. Better than I. You praised him when called for and treated him as a person, not just a vessel for a prophecy of old. You are not perfect, padawan mine, no one is. But this is not your fault.”

“I do not know why he did it,” Obi-Wan confessed, shaking his head at the truth. He didn’t know and he wondered why every day. Was his love not enough? “I continue to be blind when it comes to him.”

“The dark ide obscures so much, even of which is nearest to us,” Qui-Gon continued, in that teaching voice where Obi-Wan understood and didn’t understand at all. It was an odd thing to miss, he knew, but he did, all the same. “How can one see when something so beyond your control blocks it so thoroughly?”

The younger and not so dead master buried his face in his hands. “It is all gone now.”

“You aren’t. Hope isn’t.”

“Luke is alive,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Leia is alive. They…they are…”

“Hope,” Qui-Gon finished. “Not just for the galaxy either. They are hope for you.”

11 BBY

Luke is eight/nine years old

“Ben?”

He was sleeping on the floor again, Luke thought to himself as he padded out of his room and into the main part of the ship. The boy wasn’t entirely sure why. There was plenty of room with him in the little area Ben had designated for him. For Luke. He had his own room back on Tatooine with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and it had been a lot bigger than this, but he didn’t mind. He found the smaller areas kind of cozy actually.

He had not slept well since Ben had come to take him away, after Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru went cold. At first, he had even tried to stay up, like Ben. But Ben must have some kind of superpower or something because no matter what he did, Luke could not stay up. He could not stay awake. Nightmares often plagued his sleeping times. And hyperspace was cold.

Ben looked up, his bleary gaze softening upon spotting Luke, and he moved himself into a seated position. “Are you alright?”

The child hugged himself, wrapping his arms around his torso in some kind of substitute for Ben’s cloak. He didn’t really want to admit to bad dreams. Surely almost being nine, was an age where he could deal with them. He shouldn’t be scared.

Ben, of course, knew anyways.

It was so wizard, the way he just knew things. Biggs was probably right; he must actuallybe a wizard.

“Nightmares?” Ben mused when Luke didn’t answer. “Dreams pass in time.”

Luke just nodded even though he didn’t really understand.

“But, I suppose, that is not so comforting in the moment, is it?” he hummed and stood up, his joints making gross cracking noises as he did. “Come, I will make you some tea. I have a blend that might help.”

Luke perked but tried to temper his excitement and interest. It had only been a week since Ben introduced him to the wonder and ability of tea. It’s warmth and ability to fight the cold of hyperspace. A week since Luke declared he wanted to try all of them.

It was a start.

The tea Ben gave him tasted different than the first one. Physically even warmer, something more soothing. It was calming and it felt like his heart and head were slowing down. It was not long until his eyes started to droop. And then, suddenly, it was like sleep felt like a good idea. He didn’t fear it as much or the nightmares.

He trusted Ben.

And if Ben said the tea would help, Luke would believe him.

Ben didn’t lie to him.

Afterwards, he led Luke back to his bunk and started to tuck him in, bringing blankets up his torso to his neck. Luke just tugged at the billowing sleeve of his robe, attempting to pull him down with him. Ben thought he was trying to get his attention. “Yes, Luke?”

“Stay with me?” he pleaded.

The older man hesitated but exhaled and nodded. “Okay, beacon. Okay.”

6 BBY

Luke is eleven years old.

“Alright Luke,” Ben smiled warmly, filling his presence with kindness and love, as much as he could imbue. The boy next to him, barely a mop of blonde hair visible, grinned and snuggled close to his side, curling even more under his large robe. He would have to get another one, Ben mused to himself. Luke was growing bigger every day and he seemed to really like hiding underneath there. Ben would have to compensate in the size of his robes as he grew.

They were on planet side and even spending a few nights there as of the moment. Stopping for supplies was often frequent and short. Usually if Ben was lucky, he could get a small job or do some things for people that would help him get resources, food or fuel. This planet, however, it had turned out, it was monsoon season and for the next few days, no one could even manage to get to or off the ground.

Ben had scrounged up enough credits to pay for a decent – but quite small – room, to wait out the worst of the storm. It was loud and the harsh semi-solid rain pounded against the roof and walls, wailing in some sort of sad and grieving song. It was a bit frightening to the youngster, but Ben was a bit amazed on the comfort Luke could find within Ben’s presence and at his side.

“We have quite some time to burn, and not a lot to do,” he offered, lightly, curling the blankets around them further and making sure the pillows were stacked up enough to support their weight on the bed. There was only one, but Luke was still rather small, and Ben wasn’t an overly large being, they could fit. Would you like to play Obnoxiously Long Explanations?”

Luke laughed, as he always did when he suggested that. The title was something that Luke himself had suggested after he asked a question and Ben had gone on a rather long tirade explanation on the subject. The boy’s attention had barely faltered, as the topic was rather of interest to him, but the next time it happened, Luke had used the term and it kind of stuck for those types of talks.

“Yes please!” he cheered, wriggling under his cloak and peering through, his blue eyes shining in excitement. He practically begged in that moment, squirming even further until Ben felt he could take no more. “Can I go first? Please? Please?”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, the lines around his eyes wrinkling in a true, genuine smile. Luke always wanted to go first, which Ben could understand. He was young, with many questions. Many questions, especially, since he knew what Ben was and that was a topic, he would constantly have questions for. “What would you like to know?”

“The Jedi!” Luke nearly screeched, his voice rising.

“Your father?” Ben asked, expectantly.

Vehemently, Luke shook his head. “No. Yours.”

That surprised Ben and for a moment, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; he did not know how. He was fairly certain that he had told Luke about the type of bonds and child rearing of the jedi. It was a bit more communal than most places, as force sensitives more often than not, faired better with their own, together in groups. “I have no father,” he decided on.

Luke was not deterred, and his tone just grew in excitement and impatience. He was trying to get his point across, surely. “Your jedi master! Tell me about your master. And hismaster! And HIS master!” As he went on, his voice got louder and happier. His enthusiasm was heartwarming and hilarious. Ben loved it and he was more than happy to oblige him. It had been some time since Luke’s encounter with Master Jinn as a Force apparition and his curiosity was overflowing.

“Why,” Ben gaped in mock surprise. “That would take all night.”

Ah, rarely did Ben get his own question in, anyways.

“YAAASSSS!” Luke nearly jumped up with his happy shout, bumping into Ben’s side and arm rather forcefully. There would certainly be a bruise there tomorrow. There was a slam as the headboard of the bed hit the wall behind them, echoing a loud noise through the room. Both of them exchanged surprised and vaguely entertained looks and suppressing giggles.

“Quite little beacon,” Ben hushed him, bringing up his hand with a smile. He couldn’t help himself; the boy was right adorable. “We must be courteous to our neighbors.”

The young boy quieted himself and shrunk in just a bit of shame, he turned towards the headboard and kneeled up from underneath the cloak, nearly bringing his forehead to the wall in some kind of quiet, solemn pledge. “My apologies, gentle beings. I vow to be better,” he whispered to the wall.

Ben could only watch in amusement. Luke looked back up at him, waiting and trying to be patient. But then he sat back down and carefully wrapped part of Ben’s cloak around himself again, curling his legs under his body. He was so eager, the want so great. Ben tried not to see Anakin in his eyes. But Anakin many times wanted to know about Qui-Gon. His hero worship for a dead man he knew for a handful of days was rather astounding.

If he only knew.

He wondered if Luke felt the same. It was interesting he thought. Perhaps all Skywalkers had an interest and love for the maverick jedi, despite both of them had barely known the man.

What did that say?

“Well,” Ben started, slowly, trying to figure out a good place to start. The training lineage itself seemed to be what Luke was after. He wondered how far it would go, how far Luke wanted it. “Master Jinn master was a man from Serenno named Count Dooku. Dooku, in turn, was trained by Master Yoda.”

Luke glanced at him as if he thought he was being tricked, his eyes narrowing in serious suspicion. Ben bit back a laugh, it was amusing to see. “Doesn’t Master Yoda train everyone?” he asked, his voice drawing out in a slow drawl.

Ben nodded. “Yes. But Dooku was Master Yoda’s padawan.”

“Padawan,” Luke tested the word on his tongue, and took care doing it, like it was something he should be respectful of. Like it was important. It should have been, Ben thought bitterly. Luke should have been a jedi, able to find a master he would connect with in a way where that relationship was beloved. Ben knew Anakin probably wouldn’t have wanted Luke to be a Jedi, but Ben couldn’t quite imagine him not. The boy, even at nine years old, had wanted it so badly. “What does that mean?”

“It is the jedi term for apprentice,” Ben started to explain, trying to keep things easy for Luke to understand. The boy was smart for his age but even he knew that Ben had a tendency to go a little overboard at times, “but… it is a little more than that. It is a personal relationship, you learn from your master, spend much time with them and go on missions together.”

Luke considered this and beamed, so bright and happy and beautiful. The thought on his mind was something he was so proud of. “Like us!”

Ben tried not to falter. How could he tell Luke that he could never take him on as a padawan? If he hadn’t completely failed Anakin, hadn’t lost everything. The word was dangerous. Even a mere mention of it was something he had to be careful of. The Empire was extremely prejudice about it, about even thinking that someone may be a jedi or a jedi Padawan. He did not answer. “So,” he continued on their original topic instead. “Count Dooku learned more closely from Master Yoda. Master Yoda has had many padawans. Count Dooku, once upon a time, was my grandmaster, which meant he trained my master, who trained me. He was from a planet called Serenno and was a royal, making him a count.”

“Count Dooku….” Luke tried, narrowing his eyes as he thought about the name and the man behind it. “What was he like?”

“I did not know him as a padawan,” Ben confessed, which was true. He wasn’t entirely sure if Dooku just had not wanted to see him, if he wasn’t living up to the Count’s standards or if Qui-Gon just had not wanted Ben to meet him. Or both, he supposed it could have been both. “I didn’t meet him until much later.”

“Is that strange?”

Ben hummed as he thought about this. “Sometimes, I suppose,” he replied. It had been quite some time before he realized what lineage lines more often than not, were. All jedi, padawans, initiates, even knights, had been trained and taught by many others, even those outside of the lineage. Ben had spent quite some time with several others when he was a young knight. Master Drallig had been one, when he had decided to change his primary form. Eventually he had gone to Master Billaba, a known and excellent practitioner of Soresu for guidance. Ben had not seen or met much of his lineage and those he had, were often evil or dead. Xanatos was not someone he wanted to be associated with, as he had gone dark. As well as Dooku’s last padawan, Vosa and then Dooku himself. His teaching lineage was rather a mess.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have been so surprising that another had fallen so far.

“Many grand masters are often around, some even help teach their padawan’s padawan,” he added, cautiously.

“But he didn’t,” Luke replied, a bit slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying it.

“No,” Ben shook his head. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He would never really know and his old master, even as a ghost, was not exactly forthcoming with answers, especially when it came to Count Dooku. “He and Qui-Gon had a bit of falling out and often did not see eye to eye.”

“Did you get to meet him?” Luke asked.

“Ah…yes,” he nodded again, although he bit his lip. That was rather complex. Ben hadn’t met him as a jedi but rather, once the older man had fallen to the dark side and had become a sith apprentice. He imagined Dooku became quite different through the transition. “He had become a different person by then and had left the jedi.”

“He became bad.”

“He did bad things, yes,” Ben agreed, careful with his words and his tone. Count Dooku was both an interesting and uneasy topic, but he still had to be cautious with how he said things to an easily impressionable child. “But he wasn’t bad for leaving the jedi. Leaving the jedi isn’t always a bad thing.”

“Why would anyone want to leave the jedi?”

Ben nearly wanted to laugh. Luke said it in such a way that it seemed ridiculous, leaving the jedi. He probably should not have told him all the times he had left or had threatened or thought about leaving. Sometimes the cause was different. “Sometimes, things change. Some people discover it is not the type of life they want to live. There is not shame in it,” he reminded, gentle and patient.

“I want to be a jedi.”

Oh, he sounded so sure. Once upon a time, Anakin had sounded sure.

“I know,” he replied, sensible and slow. He would not berate Luke for wanting this, after all, he could sense it. “But it is okay if you end up changing your mind too.”

“I won’t,” Luke affirmed with a light shrug. “Why did Count Dooku leave?”

“He did not agree with some of the jedi leaders,” Ben explained. It was a bit vague but understandable for the youngster. In all honesty, Ben himself wasn’t entirely sure of all the intricacies behind Dooku leaving and his fall. The two were connected, no doubt. But not everyone who left the jedi became like him. Became like Xanatos or Anakin. “And a man, he told Dooku things, some lies, some things true, from a point of view.”

“But he did bad things anyways,” Luke said, curious but adamant.

“Yes. He hurt people.”

“Did you fight him?”

“Yes. Many times.”

“I wish I could have seen it,” Luke said, wistfully, his eyes glimmering into something of desire. He huffed lightly at the thought. Skywalkers are their obsession with lightsaber fighting. “I bet you fight amazing.”

Ben smiled, a bit uneasily. “I was…an adequate warrior. Count Dooku was a legendary swordsman. One of the best. It took a long time before anyone defeated him.”

“Who beat him?”

“Your father, actually.”

“What?! Really?! That’s so cool! Were you there?”

Ben hummed and nodded. “Yes, Count Dooku was not so easily beaten but your father did it. Dooku, aside from his lightsaber skills was a ruler of a planet and had something of a silver tongue.”

“What is that?”

“He’s very good at talking. Very calm and collected, rarely could one say things that surprised him of caught him off guard,” he explained.

“Kinda like you?”

“Pardon?”

“You are really good at taking,” Luke said seriously, looking up at him.

“I am…alright,” Ben replied, nearly choking on the words. It had been quite some time since someone noticed that. It had been a long time since he had been considered a diplomat, an advisor, a negotiator.

“Can you teach me? To talk like you?”

“Uh…we will see,” Ben chuckled, trying to keep the unease out of his voice. He had once tried to teach Anakin the nuances of speech, especially when it came to speaking with politicians and other scum of the galaxy, but he was more intent on learning about aggressive negotiations. Or at least, that with a lightsaber. Then again, he had never really asked, never really found interest in learning that of the sort. Luke was not Anakin and Ben just had to remind himself of that. Some days were easier than others.

“How many… pada…padawans did Dooku have before he left?” Luke stumbled on the unfamiliar word.

“His first was Rael Aveross, second my master, Qui-Gon Jinn and third, Komari Vosa.”

“Tell me about Master Jinn!”

Of course. Of course. “Are you sure? We can’t go back…”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, alright,” Ben laughed, keeping his tone light and a bit quiet, trying not to disturb the neighbors. It was getting rather dark and late out and no doubt some beings were, in fact, trying to sleep. He started to explain some things that he remembered about his old master, starting with the big things and swirling down to the more minute details. It was a bit fascinating how much Ben remembered, even after over twenty-five years. It was hard to imagine it had been so long. It was hard to imagine that so little time had passed. “Master Jinn was known to be a bit of a maverick. He just… kind of did what he wanted.”

Luke sighed, overly dramatic, throwing his hands up in the air.

That garnered Ben’s curiosity. “What is it?”

“Does no one follow the rules?”

Ben laughed, a bit loud and hearty. He would have never expected something like that to come from a Skywalker’s mouth. “Yes. Master Jinn wasn’t known for following rules. Sometimes this worked in his favor, other times it did not. He was quite the character.”

“He told me something about the Living Force,” Luke asked, uncertainly.

“Did he visit you?”

Luke nodded.

Ben rolled his eyes. “No regard for rules,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll tell him,” Luke said, seriously and Ben absolutely believed him. The boy didn’t go around making promises he did not intend to keep. It was something he rather admired about the boy, even already at his age. “If he does it again.”

“What did he try to tell you?”

“Well, he talked about the Living Force…”

Ben explained what he meant by that, as well as the difference between the living and cosmic/unifying force in a way that he hoped was easy to understand for Luke. It was a bit of a tangent, and he thought the lesson was good and Luke just rolled his eyes at the descripted antics of Ben’s old master. Ben was secretly glad he wasn’t the only one. “Master Jinn…he liked plants and animals, generally things that could and would easily kill a person,” Ben grumbled, but his tone was quite fond. Of course at the time, when Master Jinn was alive, it had been annoying, but over time, Ben had even come to appreciate other lifeforms in the way of faun and flora. “I had to take care of many of his pathetic lifeforms.”

“Pathetic lifeforms,” Luke giggled, trying to keep quiet. “That’s funny. Can we get a pathetic lifeform?”

Ben chuckled; a bit nervous. Oh no, he could not go through that again. “Uh no. I don’t think that would be wise…but maybe, perhaps, we can see about getting a plant.”

“Let me guess, one that doesn’t eat people?”

“I think that would be best, don’t you?” Ben smiled, a bit mischievous. This was progress. He can work with a plant, sure. Perhaps it would help teach Luke responsibility as well.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. But I want a cool one though.”

Present Past

Anakin

“Angel,” Anakin smiled warmly as Padme’s visage popped up over the table. Even through the holocall, she looked as radiant as ever. Obi-Wan was asleep and Anakin just needed to talk to someone. If it wasn’t Obi-Wan, who he knew he had to speak to, he was lucky it was her. He had thought about the Chancellor, but he imagined the man was rather busy at the moment.

Padme just smiled back and shook her head, mockingly hopeless in her expression. She quicky frowned a little bit, as though she remembered something, and her eyes went worried. “Ani. I heard Obi-Wan crashed. Is he okay?”

He wilted at the change of topic, immediately.

“You won’t believe what has happened,” he sighed, running his flesh hand through his hair. He supposed he did want to talk about Obi-Wan. It was unusual affair when it came to her; as he usually didn’t want to talk about him unless he was letting off steam, but Anakin was confused, he didn’t know what was going on or how to proceed. Perhaps Padme could help. She helped with everything else, so why not this. “Obi-Wan…isn’t Obi-Wan.”

Her expression turned flat, and he could see she did not appreciate what she thought must have been a joke. “What does that mean?”

“This is going to sound crazy, he admitted. And it really was.

“Crazier than Mortis?”

He winced as he remembered that absolutely horrible mission. Where Ahoksa had died. Where he had apparently been turned to the dark side. Where his memories were fuzzy and cold and dark. He only remembered parts of that mission and honestly, he didn’t care too much of trying to regain the memories. “Just about.”

“What happened?”

“It appears….it appears, Obi-Wan has time traveled.” Oh, that coming out of his mouth sounded so weird, so wrong.

She laughed, hollowly, but quicky realized he was genuine and stared at him, wide eyed and surprised. “You cannot be serious.”

He nodded, feeling a bit mute. “Master Vos confirmed it. It’s so messed up.”

“Do we win the war?”

He was a little surprised that it was the first thing she thought of the first thing she asked, especially considering her previous concern about Obi-Wan specifically but then again, she was a senator. She had a stake and claim in the outcome of this war. She wanted it over. She wanted to win.

“It doesn’t sound like it,” he grumbled, still bitter. He didn’t know much about anything when it came to the future. Sure, Obi-Wan hadn’t yet much time to talk since he just woke up, but he still hadn’t said much of anything about it. He certainly didn’t talk to Anakin personally. “I don’t know much at this point. Obi-Wan is not a jedi, he’s on the run and I’m dead. You should have seen him, Padme. I don’t even know where to begin! When he saw me, he pulled a saber on me. A lightsaber! He was going to kill me but then he just…. dropped and hugged me instead! He knows who the Sith Master is but he’s acting so strange…” his ramble finally started to slow down as his mouth just kind of ran out of words to spout out.

Padme stared at him through his rant and then the holo call began to move as she sat down. Probably a good idea, he thought. This was a lot to take in. “This…this is a lot to take in,” she admitted, mirroring his thoughts. “He didn’t tell you who it was?”

He shook his head. “He said its…it’s complicated. He’s paranoid about giving information. He doesn’t trust me! I knew it!” his voice became louder and angrier as he went on, the feeling billowing in his chest.

She just sighed and shook her head, as if she was exasperated with him. He hated it when she looked and felt like that, especially with him. “Did he tell anyone else about the identity?”

“Well, no,” he grumbled.

“Then it’s not you, Ani,” she pointed out, her voice calm and patient and kind. With his mind on Obi-Wan, it seemed somehow reminiscent of how his old master used to speak with him when he was a child. A child to be calmed and pacified. He was not entirely sure how he felt about that. “He’s scared and he doesn’t seem to understand what is going on.”

“He doesn’t even think this is real.”

“What do you mean?”

“He thinks the Sith caught up with him and is manipulating his mind,” he huffed, rubbing his temples, as if that would just take everything away. He had a persistent headache. From what, he wasn’t entirely sure. “We haven’t been able to convince him otherwise yet.”

“It’s pretty clear that he has been through a lot,” Padme replied, a bit slowly and Anakin’s chest grumbled in that continued tone. He was not a child to be placated. “Paranoia probably kept him alive. Try to be patient with him. This has to be very scary and strange to him.”

Anakin groaned and nearly flopped over. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t even imagine how he would react in Obi-Wan’s shoes. Probably better, or worse, he grimaced. It was difficult to think about. “I knowwwww…. I just. Augh. He’s taking a nap and then he wants to meditate.”

“Maybe that will help him accept this,” she offered. “You know he always feels better after meditation, even if you don’t.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

“Do you know anything else about the future?”

“Not much. I can’t imagine it’s good, if Obi-Wan of all people is on the run.”

“And you are dead,” she pointed out worriedly. “I might be too.”

That got his attention. “What do you mean?”

“Ani…” she started, keeping her voice slow still. “He’s by himself. He’s your friend, your family. He’s my friend. I’m sure he knows we care about each other. I cannot imagine I would not help him if I had been able. Don’t you think he would try to help me if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“Something did,” she pointed out. She wasn’t wrong but the thought was much too horrible to even consider. He would never let anything happen to her. He didn’t think he would let anything happen to Obi-Wan either, some dark part of him realized, but something had. He had allowed that to happen by dying. “Something so horrible, Obi-Wan is all alone. No friends, no family, no jedi.”

“Not completely alone,” Anakin realized. He hadn’t thought about Luke much in the past couple of hours and the thought was actually kind of shaking his core. Perhaps Padme could shed some light on his thoughts and theories.

“Pardon?”

“Someone came back with him, someone who isn’t even born yet in this time,” he said, trying to find the right words to describe him. He probably should not be talking about this whole-time travel thing with others; Master Windu and the Council seemed to want to keep it under wraps – like so many other things, he thought cynically. But Padme could be trusted. He could trust her. After all, if he couldn’t trust his wife, who would he trust? Some tiny voice deep inside him echoed his master’s name. “His name is Luke and he’s…. crazy protective. Wouldn’t even leave Obi-Wan’s side for a while.”

Padme just smiled, knowingly. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

“That’s different,” he insisted, and it nearly stunned him how quickly he realized what she was talking about. Who, she was talking about. Him. “He’s, my master. We are a team. The best team.”

“And who is Luke?”

Anakin hesitated and glanced away. The idea had been vaguely bouncing around his head, but he hadn’t voiced it yet. “I think…. I think he might be Obi-Wan’s son.”

“No way.”

“I don’t know for sure,” he added, quickly, almost like he was trying to back track. The thought of Obi-Wan having a child at all was rather mind-boggling. Hypocritical maybe, because that meant he had an attachment, at least of some kind. “It’s just…he told Ahsoka his mother died in childbirth and his father…that it was complicated,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Why do you think he’s Obi-Wan’s son?”

“He’s force sensitive.”

“So are you and he’s not your son,” she pointed out, teasingly.

He snorted again; wasn’t that a thought. “He talks like Obi-Wan, you know, all posh and stuff. Was raised by him. And…do you remember the Duchess of Mandalore.”

“Satine Kryze?”

He nodded. Her eyes widened in understanding. If he recalled, he was pretty sure the Duchess and Padme were friends. She’d probably know, perhaps. “When we rooted out the traitor on her ship, she confessed her feelings and he told her he would have left the order if she asked.”

“Do you think she asked?”

“It seems likely, although I have a hard time imagining he would have done it before the war ended,” he admitted. “Honestly, it’s hard to imagine at all. He’s just…he’s got that perfect jedi thing going on.”

Even he knew that Padme was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She generally didn’t always completely agree on some of the things Anakin thought about his former master. “If the war ends and Obi-Wan is on the run, as you say,” she realized, thinking about this train of thought. “He may have fled to Mandalore.”

“Then she died in childbirth,” Anakin frowned. “It would have been…really quickly, right after the war. Luke is, like, fifteen, sixteen max.”

“Does he look like Obi-Wan?”

Anakin shook his head but then hesitated. “I don’t think so, but I haven’t really looked you know? I only spent a couple of hours with him and even then, I wasn’t really looking. He’s blonde, like the Duchess, so maybe he looks more like her?”

“We will have to check it out when you get back to Coruscant. Perhaps do a DNA test or something. That would certainly confirm things. You are coming back, right?”

Anakin hesitated. “Not…yet.”

She sighed.

“The colony of Kiros was taken by slavers,” he explained with a snarl at the word, his anger growing more profound as he realized what was happening, what type of mission they were taking on. Slavers. “Captain Rex and Luke were taken by Dooku.”

Padme looked worried but it was washed away with her expression of compete determination. “Then the Republic’s greatest hero has to go and save them.”

Anakin grinned at the praise. “Not to worry, milady, it shall be done.”

“And milady has work to do,” she laughed.

“Awww. Can’t you stay on longer?”

Something in her eyes glimmered. She was up to something, he knew it. “I do believe I have to do my own part,” she said, vaguely. “And you should probably be around Obi-Wan when he wakes up. He’s going to need you. We are going to win this war this time.”

“This time,” Anakin echoed.

Cody

Quinlan Vos was not exactly the kind of person Commander Cody would have expected General Kenobi to be friends with. He has heard a little of General Kenobi’s friends and life, pre-war, but he had heard things, gleaned from snippets from both General Kenobi, General Skywalker and other still. General Vos was someone General Kenobi complained about, but he did it the same way he complained about Skywalker, which made it clear that they were close.

They were friends. Close friends. Perhaps best friends, although from what Cody could tell, several beings like to try and claim that title. He was a bit curious on General Kenobi’s own thoughts on the matter.

Cody had been trying to keep himself busy while his general slept to prepare for the conflict that was undoubtedly in front of them. Boil and his group had been replaced for clean up on the planet. The trooper had already been ready for another fight when Cody explained what had happened to like and Waxer. Waxer was his best friend and Luke…no one was entirely sure what Luke was to them at this stage, but he was something. Something their troops cared about. Their trusted little fellowship was already fond of the boy, nearly as much as they were to Luke.

Needless to say, no one was happy upon discovering Luke and Waxer’s dilemma and situation. All of them prepared for the next assignment and then milled around the overall area where their general slept. Cody didn’t stop them. They knew about the future and even beside that, there was something else. A change they could feel.

Cody was talking to Barlex and Threepwood, quietly discussing next moves involving the chips. Commander Colt and Alpha-17 were already starting research and had discovered the location of the chip in their heads. It could be found by a level five atomic scan, something few ships had access to. Although, with the right equipment, the surgery did not appear too difficult.

“We need to talk to the jedi about this,” Threepwood said quietly. “You know what Luke did. He can help the droids scan and find the chips.”

“They probably also have access to the necessary scanners and droids,” Barlex added, his voice gruff as per usual.

“We have to be very careful,” Cody warned. “This information could cause widespread panic, or worse, word getting out to the Sith and the chips could be activated early.” It was a terrible thing to think about, much less consider. Even though he technically knew it had happened, happened to his general, it was hard to wrap his head around. He could not even imagine doing such a thing.

“We need help,” Threepwood insisted.

“We do not have the resources to de-chip the entire GAR while we fight this war,” Barlex agreed, although rather grudgingly. He didn’t always seem to like agreeing with other people. “Or the equipment, the time, the excuses.”

“I know,” Cody hissed.

“If you need boys de-chipped fast, contacting jedi healers and perhaps jedi with smaller clone attachments might be a good start.”

The three of them shut up quicky and spun around, lining up in front of the jedi general in perfect formation to salute in practiced smooth movements. “Sir!” one of them near shouted. Cody didn’t know who it was. He didn’t dare look.

“We didn’t…”

General Vos raised a hand, smirking subtly and casually. Cody wanted to feel relaxed, he really did. This was General Kenobi’s friend; couldn’t they trust him? He truly hoped so. “Don’t worry, I’m no snitch. Well, actually I am, but not in this case,” he smiled at his own joke, although it was a bit weak. “I know about the chips and what happened in Obi-Wan’s future.”

That helped ease the tension a bit. General Vos gave them a rundown on his specific abilities to give them a rational explanation to his access of knowledge. And then he continued to explain his suggestion. “There are healers stationed everywhere and if there is one thing they know, aside from healing, it is digression. They have any and all excuses, especially as jedi, to see troopers.”

“The surgery is apparently pretty easy,” Barlex also noted. “Luke did several with the help of a basic med droid, quickly.”

An eyebrow rose curiously. “Then it should definitely be faster and easier with actual healers. I can contact Master Healer Che and start proceedings in that area.”

“She’s your top coordinator?” Cody asked. He nodded. “Maybe start with the other healers, away from Coruscant.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Was he that obvious?

“The danger is centered there,” Cody replied, vaguely. The others glanced at him, but he didn’t meet their gaze. The speculation was just that…speculation but even if it was confirmed, if the chips didn’t spread mass panic, the acknowledgment and identity of the man behind all of this, would.

“I wanted to talk to you,” General Vos dropped it for now. “About Obi-Wan, Luke, steps going forward to prevent that future.”

“Barlex and Threepwood know,” Cody stated firmly, as General Vos glanced between the three of them warily. Cody answered his silent question immediately. “Luke asked me to gather some of the boys and he explained what he knew. They are de-chipped. Waxer knows.”

“He’s with Luke,” General Vos realized, after a moment. General Kenobi must have told him about Waxer, Cody thought. He couldn’t really believe that General Vos knew any of them by name. Before this, he hadn’t really spent much time with the 212thbattalion and the only one he ever really interacted with to some degree was Cody himself. “I am not certain of that will end up being a good or a bad thing.”

“He will do his duty.”

“I have little doubt,” General Vos agreed, a bit readily, to their surprise. “Who else knows?”

Cody didn’t think the names or even numbers would mean anything to the jedi, but he listed them off anyways. “The Medic,” General Vos realized as Cody went over Helix’s name and gestured for them to follow. They ended up in General Kenobi’s office which Barlex pointed out as they got in, his voice just flat enough not to sound too insubordinate or disrespectful.

“It’s easier to get into his mindset here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mentioned my psychometry. It’s linked to that. I got a lot from Luke before the battle,” he said, as they settled in. Everyone was still rather uneasy. “And even more from Obi-Wan. It’s…it is really bad.”

“We are forced to kill the jedi,” Barlex noted.

“Even the little ones,” Threepwood finished, quiet and pained at the thought. No one knew exactly who had marched on the Temple in General Kenobi’s past and their possible future. For all they knew it could have been them. Maybe it had been. Maybe not. It didn’t matter so much at this point; they still felt it rather keenly, almost as though they had personally done it. It was a horrible thought.

General Vos nodded. “Obi-Wan was unconscious when I got the information from him so… so I didn’t feel that in the way he felt it. I didn’t feel his pain and grief in the full force that I would have if he had been awake; just the…remnants of it.”

“You know who did it,” Barlex voiced something they had all realized.

“Pardon?”

“You know who attacked the Temple,” Cody answered for him, quietly. “You know who killed and massacred the children, the elderly, the sick and injured. You know who led them.”

General Vos didn’t let his face show anything. Cody wondered if that was a skill all Jedi knew because General Kenobi was good at that as well. It didn’t matter what he showed on his face and what he did not. His pause spoke volumes.

“Who was it?” Barlex nearly demanded.

Threepwood just froze. He didn’t want to know.

“Was it us?”

Vos’s response was immediately. “No. No, it wasn’t you.”

No one dared to let out the large breath they were all holding. It was uncomfortable, they were uncomfortable, and they knew it, even if it was not them, it had been someone.

Cody had a theory, a feeling.

He did not like it.

He wanted it verified, a desperate plea for himself to be wrong, but he did not voice it. He could not bring himself to. General Vos caught his eye. Cody just wilted.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, instead. “As long as we move quickly and quietly, it won’t happen at all. Obi-Wan is awake, as I’m sure you are all aware. At this point in time, he does not believe this to be real. He thinks that this is a complex Sith mind trick. This will be a lot more difficult if we cannot convince Obi-Wan of otherwise.”

“He will come to the right conclusion,” Cody affirmed. “He’s practical and smart. He will figure it out.”

“I imagine time travel is pretty difficult to wrap one’s head around,” Threepwood grimaced. “We were lucky, I think, having Luke around. He’s not born yet, and he knows things he couldn’t have known unless General Kenobi had told him.”

“We are heading to Zygerria,” General Vos continued. “General Koon and the 104thare going to Kadavo to retrieve the Kiros colonists, on Obi-Wan’s intelligence. We, in the meantime, are headed to the planet to get their governor and make some noise to attract Dooku,” he explained.

“Why?”

“We are fairly certain he has Luke and the missing troopers.”

The boys bristled. “They are dead, aren’t they?”

“We don’t think so,” he disagreed.

“Why? Count Dooku does not take trooper hostages,” Barlex pointed out.

“Usually, yes,” General Vos nodded. “But he thinks Luke is Obi-Wan’s padawan and, especially due to his very…sudden…disappearance, Dooku’s interest is undoubtedly high with him and the situation surrounding him.”

“And?”

“He will probably use the troopers as leverage, hostages,” General Vos confessed with a frown. “If Count Dooku wanted those troopers dead, I imagine we would have just found their bodies in the air base on Umbara. Luke is young and he is rather fond of you, it appears. They will make decent leverage.”

“He is,” Threepwood sighed.

“But what Luke knows about the future…could it be that valuable to Dooku?” Barlex asked. “Luke was born after the war.”

“I doubt Dooku, at this point, knows about the time travel and we think Dooku’s interest is in Luke’s relation to Obi-Wan. As most of you probably know… Count Dooku…he’s a bit fond of him.”

“He shows it in very strange ways,” Threepwood muttered.

“He is Obi’s grand master.”

Threepwood and Barlex sputtered.

“Count Dooku is General Kenobi’s grandfather?”

General Vos looked vaguely uncomfortable with the phrase but shook his head lightly, like that wasn’t exactly it. It wasn’t, Cody knew the jedi didn’t have grandfathers in the way that many other cultures did but that didn’t make those relationships any less personal. “Err…. not exactly but sort of? He trained Obi-Wan’s master, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“That is…. messed up,” Threepwood sighed.

“We want him to come to Zygerria. He’s in league with the slaver queen there, no doubt working some angle. According to Obi-Wan, he had gone to the planet last time when she didn’t quite…listen to the Count.”

“So, we are kind of doing the same thing?”

General Vos just smiled. “More like we are going to make a bit of a mess and kark some things up to get Dooku to come. Just a small team for now, lure him in and then attack with the 501st and 212th.”

“I can put together a task force, sir,” Cody said. He knew exactly who to bring.

“I would say you should probably stay on the ship, but I don’t think you will,” he cracked a sly grin.

“Barlex can cover,” Cody replied, readily, glancing at his brother. His gaze hardened in determination, and he nodded. “Besides, I think me being there, with Boil, might help.”

“How do you mean?”

“Both Boil and I were in the future, we lived…longer than most,” Cody explained but it was difficult to get through. He didn’t know much about the future and he didn’t particularly like talking about the fates of his brothers, as horrible as they were. As little as he knew, with only speculation and hypothesis to guide him through. “He’s a bit more comfortable around those people, especially Boil. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for him and he’s still alive in General Kenobi’s future.”

“He did mention him before,” General Vos noted.

“I brought him back from cleanup. He’s probably already talking with the General now,” Cody added. “General Kenobi prefers short power naps more than anything. The more comfortable he is with the squad, the more information we will get and the more likely he may be more inclined to believe.”

“And they won’t let anything happen to him,” Barlex vowed, darkly.

“Finally!” a new voice grumbled as the door was forced open. Helix burst in with a long sigh and a huff. “General, commander. I guess I should have known. I thought you would want to know. General Kenobi is awake.”

Ben

“Obi-Wan! Please!”

“It was only a dream, dear one. Dreams pass in time.”

“He will never want me.”

“You will never remind me.”

“Ben!”

“Obi-Wan!”

“I love you.”

“And you, you’ve grown sadder.”

“Trust in the Force.”

“I will not abandon you.”

“I would have chosen you over and over given the chance.”

“I foresee you becoming a greater jedi than I.”

“He was my best friend, my brother.”

“You can see that?”

“It’s just you and me, old man.”

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“I am so proud of you.”

“We were waiting.”

“I’m waiting.”

“You have become a far greater jedi than I could ever hope to be.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If In die here, it’s going to be your fault.”

“If I die here, it’s going to be with you.”

“Forgive me if I still think I know you better than anyone else.”

“I know what you wanted. I’m not leaving him.”

“You do.”

“We meet again.”

“It is all your fault.”

“LIES!”

“It’s over Anakin.”

“It hate you.”

“I love you.”

Ben’s inhale back into consciousness, coming from his slumber, was quick and deep, accompanied by a dry throat and wet cheeks.

“Welcome back, general.”

It took a rather embarrassingly long moment for Ben to put a finger on the name. It had been a very long time. He racked his brain, but eventually, the short-term memories came back forward. The star destroyer. Quinlan. Umbara 2.0. What did the Sith Lord want with staging this specific campaign? Surely, he would be smart enough to know Ben wouldn’t do the same things as last time; that surely, he would try to be better, do better, save more lives. No matter how hard he tried, Ben just couldn’t quite stop being a jedi. He wondered how the casualty counts compared to the first time around.

“Helix,” Ben murmured, a bit fondly. “It has been a while.”

“So, you have said,” Helix hummed, and Ben could feel him going over him, checking for anything and everything, going through his vitals while the jedi regained himself. “Longer for you than me, as your padawan says it.”

“My padawan?” Ben mused.

“Luke,” Helix supplied.

“Is that what he calls himself?”

“No,” Helix shrugged. “But it seems kind of obvious to us. Good kid, though. Kind, generous. Protective of you…and us, it appears.”

“He has always wanted to meet the people of my past.”

“Well, if you tell him a bunch of glory stories, that does not seem too surprising.”

“They were flattering ones, I assure you.”

“Not the ones where we kill all of you, I imagine.”

The plain facts and rational tone of Helix’s voice caught Ben off guard. He turned to stare at him in surprise, a little wide eyed. Oh, the man hadn’t changed a bit. He was just like how Ben remembered him over sixteen years ago. “You…how… I don’t know what you are talking about,” he settled on.

Look at that, he could be at a loss for words.

“Luke told us,” Helix confessed. “Got the chips out and everything. Just a few of the boys to start. I think he wanted some allies. The Commander, Gearshift, Trapper, Longshot, Threepwood, Barlex, Wooley, Crys, your favorites,” he smirked at the end.

Ben sputtered. “What…I do not-.”

“Don’t worry, general,” he just chuckled. “Everyone has favorites, and we get it. Care isn’t finite or whatever; jedi-way. We all know. Can’t say we completely blame ya, those two are surprisingly good with you. However, speaking of which, Commander Cody did pull some strings, so Boil came with us instead of staying on Umbara for cleanup.”

“He can to Kiros with us last time,” Ben mused, quiet and mostly to himself. “He wanted to get his mind off of…off of Waxer.”

“Waxer died on Umbara the first time, didn’t he?”

It wasn’t much to jump to that conclusion, apparently. He wondered what Luke had told them. Ben swallowed and nodded. “Friendly fire.”

“Commander Cody told me. He said Luke put a stop to it. As far as we know, currently, they are both still alive.”

“Things have already changed,” Ben mumbled. “Luke wasn’t here last time…could it…”

“Boil is coming up,” Helix said quietly. “It may be a few minutes. Would you like to talk to him? I know he isn’t your future version but perhaps a friendly and known presence might help ground you.”

“Ground me?”

“You confessed earlier that you believed this was a Sith trick; a mental manipulation orchestrated by the Sith,” Helix began to explain, only a bit hesitant.

Ben nodded.

“Maybe he could help,” he shrugged. “It’s a little difficult to see Boil as a grounding influence but well, who knows?”

“Alright,” Ben conceded. He rather thought he would like to see the trooper again anyways. Even if he may have just been a figment of this trick, Helix was not wrong, a friendly face would always be a blessing.

“It’ll be a couple of minutes. I have some boys to look over, can you handle a bit by yourself?”

He just laughed, lightly. “Of course, Helix. Go on.”

*

Arfour was not having a good time.

Her pathetic lifeform had finally awoken but he was just all over the place. Running around like a maniac, his vitals all over the place and nothing that came out of his person that made any sense. Not real? What was not real?

He looked at her as if he had not seen her in a very long time.

It had been not even a singular day.

She let the two humanoids speak and she waited for her turn quietly. [pathetic lifeform] was tired and confused but seeing [know-it-all] appeared to make him a bit more at ease. Some residents of the ship made him more at ease than others.

She took note of that.

[pathetic lifeform] smiled kindly at her as she rolled into his room beeping indignantly. Looking down at her, there was something, an expression, on his face that her current data banks just could not quite identify. “Ah, Arfour. I think we have some work to do.”

*

Boil’s face appeared in the doorway and all Ben could think was how young he looked. Last time he had seen Boil, he had much more scruff on his face, more wrinkles, grey hair. But he carried himself the same.

Ben wasn’t sure if even the Sith could duplicate that.

His expression instinctively softened at the sight of him. “Hello, Boil.”

The trooper shifted; a bit uncomfortable. Things were not the same as they were in the future; Ben had to be careful. “General. It’s good to see you awake. We…I mean some of the boys were worried.”

Ben nodded. “My apologies. That was not my intention.”

The trooper was fighting back his reactions, probably that of a disbelieving snort. He was trying so hard, Ben mused. He wondered if Boil was a figment of his imagination, the last throws to preserve what was left of his sanity.

Losing it to a Sith Lord wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to go.

Embarrassing.

He was closer now.

“My apologies, sergeant,” he repeated.

“For what, sir?”

“When Luke…helped you off of Vader’s ship, you wanted to stay with us. He loved you. I think you may have been Luke’s only real friend at that point.”

Boil swallowed. Ben didn’t know if he understood.

“I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you stay with us. Sometimes I regret it but…that’s not the jedi way.”

“Why did you not want me to stay?”

“I could not give Vader another loved one to be targeted,” Ben rasped. It was too late, the Sith already knew. So much in Ben’s head…sometimes he wished he was a droid, able to just wipe it all away.

Boil just stared at him and Ben wanted to reach out in the force with his feelings and projections. It had been a long time since he had done that amongst troopers.

He didn’t dare.

“Why…” Boil hesitated and glanced away. “Why does Vader hate you so much? Who is he?”

Ben’s breath caught. He had never actually confessed it to anyone, who Vader was.

Boil seemed to sense Ben’s panic and quickly tried to backtrack. The tone of his voice sounded strange paired with Boil’s gruff voice and his usual attempt to be calm and surly and brusque. “I am so sorry, sir. You do not have to tell me. It is completely fine. It doesn’t even matter really. He’s not here and you are not there.”

“I used to,” Ben struggled to speak. “I know him. Vader he…”

Ben stopped and stiffened. Boil followed his snap quick gaze to where Skywalker was standing in the doorway.

“Sergeant, would you mind leaving us for a bit?” Ben asked, not unkindly. He would not let a Sith near the trooper if he could help it. If Vader had donned Anakin’s visage. He wasn’t sure who this was, if it was Vader or someone else playing him or even yet, Anakin himself. Quinlan and several others had tried to convince him that he was in the past. For one of the first times ever, Boil hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should actually do as he had been asked. But after a moment, he walked out with a touch of bristle on his shoulders.

It did not escape Anakin’s attention but he, surprisingly, did not say a word.

Instead, he walked over to Ben and carefully sat next to him.

He felt so real, Ben mused. Like he could reach out and touch him, a familiar warm body under his fingers that wouldn’t burn at the contact.

Anakin always burned in his dreams.

It was a horrible think, to wish he had made sure he had killed Anakin on Mustafar well over a decade ago. So much pain could have been avoided. All it would have cost was Ben himself, leaving all the hurt and pain and horribleness for his mind and shoulders.

He was rather good at that.

He thinks perhaps killing Anakin on Mustafar would have broken him, most times. As much sadness as he could bear, he wasn’t sure if he could survive that.

But then again, Obi-Wan Kenobi had died alongside Anakin Skywalker that day.

If Quinlan and Helix and everyone else was right, if this was real and he was somehow back in his own history, able to make choices and change anything, that meant… did that mean Anakin Skywalker lived once more?

And if he did, did that mean Obi-Wan Kenobi was revived as well?

Could it be possible?

Everything had felt so real, although Ben hadn’t dared to reach out too much to others in the Force. He hadn’t even touched any bonds. If the old ones were still there and not ravaged…he did not know what he’d do.

“I had so much to say,” Anakin started, his voice uncharacteristically subdued and muted, fighting so hard to remain and relaxed and patient. “But I don’t know anymore. I’ve been thinking about things for hours and hours. Everything is going to be so different now.”

“What do you mean?”

“For me, it has only been a day. A day since it was you and me, like always. A day ago, I thought everything was fine. I thought we were okay. For me, the things that you have gone through have not happened yet. I’m alive and healthy, early twenties with a young padawan, fighting in a galaxy-wide war,” he tried to explain but Ben could tell, he was certainly struggling. “But for you, for you, it has been over fifteen years. You saw the end of the war, and something so terrible happened, you left the jedi and are on the run.”

“I did not leave,” he mumbled, absentmindedly. He hadn’t even been aware that he had spoken it until moments after, when Anakin’s head jerked, eyes meeting his in some form of terrified confusion. It looked so real, his uncertainty, and Ben wanted so desperately to believe it. Because if Anakin was befuddled and perplexed, then perhaps he didn’t know, perhaps Quinlan was right and this was actually his padawan. Not the monster that was using his body.

“Huh?”

“I did not leave,” he repeated, a bit louder.

“Did they…kick you out?” Anakin asked, skeptical and unconvinced.

Ben shook his head. “No. Everyone is dead and gone. I’m the last of the jedi.”

*

Anakin

Anakin just choked. That was not what he was expecting. Not that he had many expectations at this point. It was still painful to think about, however, and anything Anakin had expected, they both knew, this was not it.

Ten thousand jedi.

One survivor.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered. He hadn’t even realized he had said it. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in years or if he had spoken too much in that time. It was an odd contradiction, but all Anakin could feel was like he was choking on nothing at all. Because that could not have happened.

“Unfortunately, it very much is possible,” Ben hummed. “I have seen the Temple bathed in blood, bodies thrown carelessly across the halls, shot in the back. I have seen younglings murdered in their beds. They never stood a chance.”

Rage was swelling in Anakin’s chest and Ben studied him curiously. He didn’t seem entirely sure about the validity of his reaction just yet, which just didn’t make any sense. His wariness and paranoia would normally hurt and anger Anakin but right now, he was barely paying attention. It was the overwhelming and heartbreaking feelings that dominated absolutely everything at this point, because there was so many. So many jedi, ten thousand. And they were all just…gone?

Who could have possibly done such a thing?

“How are you not furious?”

“It happened over fifteen years ago,” Ben rasped, and his voice was hoarse and pained. It was like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Anakin wondered if that actually was the case. “I doubt the horror and grief I felt then will ever truly fade but I cannot…I could not do anything about it.”

“You can now,” Anakin insisted. “We can. It hasn’t happened yet. We can fix this.”

Ben was humming, non-committedly. “Interesting,” he murmured.

Anakin’s brain kept buzzing. This wasn’t happening, was he different and nothing could change it? Was it so bad that Anakin would never have his best friend back? He couldn’t imagine a life now without Obi-Wan being right there, at his side. And he didn’t want to. “What is happening to you?”

He just sighed, long suffering and tired. Obi-Wan was always tired these days but there was something in his expression that was just a little more. “A lot has happened and I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I want my master back.”

“What does that entail, exactly?”

How to answer that. With everything that was happening and everything that had happened. All of their lives and things they had done and said and not done and said. That was a question he didn’t think he could truly answer, not in its entity. Because this was Obi-Wan and that is all Anakin wanted. “I didn’t realize things had changed so much with us until…until this whole time travel thing. Things have changed so drastically but it is like I don’t know us anymore. We are a tram, the team. We are the best, I can’t even imagine my life without you. But I’ve realized…. it’s like… I don’t know what we are anymore. It’s not the same.”

Much of that may be my fault, I suppose.”

Anakin was so startled by his instinctive desire to agree to such a prospect. When had he turned into the default for blaming Obi-Wan? When had it become so easy? But before Anakin could gather himself again and his thoughts to speak, the older jedi continued. What he said next didn’t seem at all in direct relation to his previous statement.

He was practically choking on the words. “If this is a dream, I do not want it to end.”

Anakin didn’t think he meant to say that out loud. “This is real, master, I swear.”

“I never truly knew why you did it,” he replied, instead. A lump formed in Anakin’s throat. What had he done? “I knew you had resentment, some notion that I had been holding you back. You have said it. If I had, it was never intentional. I’m not exactly the best jedi or teacher, and I know you deserved better, someone who actually knew what they were doing. I know you wanted Qui-Gon and I…don’t blame you. I just didn’t realize I had done so poorly and failed you so much. I did not realize how far you had fallen or when it started.”

Anakin froze. That was much to unravel at the moment. He ended up focusing on the end of the speech.

Fallen? As in…?

It couldn’t be possible.

“What did I become?”

Ben did not want to answer, which just worried Anakin more. He must have been so truly terrible for him to withhold this.

Quinlan Vos appearing was annoying, to put it mildly, as Anakin seemed to believe they were making progress. For answers. But Ben, although subtly, looked visibly relieved. “Hey, Obes,” Master Vos greeted with a smooth smile and a comforted expression, as he carefully entered. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit confused,” Ben admitted, truthfully. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know what Sidious wants from me.”

“Perhaps we are telling the truth, maybe this is time travel,” Master Vos suggested.

“Time travel. An interesting notion,” Ben mused. “Not impossible, however rather unlikely.”

“Why is that?”

“Anakin is acting rather strange.”

“How?”

Obi-Wan exhaled and closed his eyes. Upon opening them, he stared at Anakin as if he thought he would disappear. Anakin stared back at him. This didn’t make any sense Then Obi-Wan turned to look back at Quinlan. “Worried, concerned. Not nearly as angry and resentful as the last time I saw him. I wish this cruel trick would end. But, at the same time, I feel as though this could be a wonderful dream.”

Anakin’s breath caught and emotions, feelings, everything just came rushing in all at once. It was nearly unbearable. “How could you?” his voice stuttered in something of vibration, of hurt and pain. “How could you think that I don’t care?!” he cried.

“Skywalker,” Quinlan warned.

“After-.”

Anakin,” Quinlan snapped, a little louder.

His jaw snapped shut. He was trying, he was trying, he was trying; they could give him back. He had to be careful, they all did. Anakin hated being so worried and concerned about what he said or felt. But he just wanted Obi-Wan back. And he would do anything. “I would rather like to meditate, if you would allow,” Obi-Wan said, quietly, unable to meet Anakin’s eyes.

“This isn’t a Sith trick; you are allowed to do as you please.”

“I’m not sure if I want to believe you. The implications of this…. of this not being a trick or a hallucination or a dream…I do not know what I would do with it. It has been fifteen years, in such a dark galaxy, hunted relentlessly for so long.”

“We are going to fix it, master,” Anakin assured, as he tried to calm himself; trying to breathe. He still sounded determined, dangerous. “I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let it.”

“You keep saying such things as that,” Obi-Wan hummed, his brow furrowing. “As though you think you can control it all.”

Quinlan interrupted before Anakin could say something stupid. Which, in all honesty, Anakin knew most would have probably found anything he would say next rather dumb. “Would meditation help you?”

“I haven’t…reached in the Force that way yet,” he admitted. “Since I woke up.”

“Maybe it is time,” Quinlan offered. “Perhaps it will help you determine your reality.”

“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan agreed. “Would you like to join me?”

“Sure. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Obi-Wan just shrugged. “Surprisingly, here is fine.”

“Do you intend to join us?” Quinlan asked Anakin.

“Yes,” he nearly growled.

“Then can you at least quiet your mind? Your chaotic way of doing things is doubtfully going to be much help with Obi-Wan,” Master Vos replied, flatly.

“It’s alright,” the older master assured, almost sounding even fond of the way that Anakin does things, even something as an attempt at meditation. “Even after all this time, I know Anakin Skywalker. I’d be interested how things end up. With the Sith, with all of their resources, I find it doubtful they could be able to reproduce it.”

Anakin shot Quinlan a smug grin.

They settled down on the floor and Anakin commed Ahsoka. She had gotten there in record time and was invited to join them as well. Obi-Wan’s gaze was soft at the sight of her, something nostalgic and pained. Anakin wondered if she survived, but then he remembered what Obi-Wan had said about survivors. Or lack thereof.

Anakin had never tried quite so hard at the typical form of meditation than he did just then. All the worry, all the fear; he tried so hard. But every time he opened his eyes, every time he reached out, he could see Obi-Wan smirk, subtly. Like he knew something.

Like Anakin’s meditation habits were familiar and amusing.

Was this progress? Was it possible that Anakin could get Obi-Wan back?

At the very least, most of him?

More beings approached, tentative and hesitant as Anakin sunk into the Force again. The 212th, no doubt, and at least six of them. He tried not to pay attention, but he didn’t recognize any of them off hand. Obi-Wan certainly did.

He continued to relax.

Anakin bit back a scowl. Obi-Wan was more comfortable with the troops than Anakin himself at this point. He didn’t really know any of them. Obi-Wan knew several of Anakin’s own 501st by name…perhaps, Anakin should get to know of some of Obi-Wan’s 212th.

He made a note to himself.

“Is there something you need, commander?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly.

Anakin startled out of the meditation. He hadn’t even noticed the officer approach. Cody stood in the doorway, patient and dutiful as always.

“You have a call, sir,” Cody responded, a bit quiet.

Obi-Wan silently untangled himself from his position on the floor and stood. “Of course, Commander. Ahsoka, Quinlan…Anakin. I will take my leave. I hope you found this meditation as enlightening as I.”

Quinlan and Anakin perked. Perhaps…?

He and Anakin just glanced at one another. Progress, they both thought. Perhaps they were making progress.

*

Cody

“Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Ben shrugged as he and Commander Cody made their ways through the halls, away from the medical bay. “I do believe I will feel better when I find Luke. Who is requesting my presence?”

“General Windu, sir,” Cody responded easily.

The general let out a little tension in his shoulders while Cody just watched. He had been expecting someone else, he noted, someone worse. Someone he was fearing to speak to. The commander was grateful he could give him someone to speak with that the general actually cared for. Perhaps he could prevent Obi-Wan from talking with that person, the person he dreaded. The room they entered already had the call going, with a shimmering blue visage in the middle.

“Hello Mace,” General Kenobi greeted, fondly.

“Obi-Wan,” Genera Windu softened in such a way that Cody had only heard from Ponds before. Sometimes he had thought that the general hadn’t even been capable of it. It was a rude thought, he knew, but General Windu wasn’t often one to show such sentiment. Then again, this was General Kenobi. From what Cody knew, they had known each other for a very long time and were friends. “How are you feeling?

“I have been asked that quite a bit,” General Kenobi admitted. “I have gotten some sleep and was able to do some meditating. I will concede there is a possibility this is…this is real. Time travel is not exactly impossible,” he continued, a bit quiet, tentative, as if gauging reactions. “I just…I am unsure how to accept it as a possibility, after everything that has happened.”

I don’t know what happened in your past,” General Windu confessed, and he did not look happy about it. Cody had heard about General Windu’s abilities with something called shatter points. He wondered if he could see or feel them through holo calls and if anything changed with them the first time this had happened. “But I know it must have been truly devastating. And those things that happened to you, I…we cannot take those experiences away. But you, us, we have a unique chance to change the horrors of what you have witnessed for others.”

“I will,” General Kenobi vowed, strong and resolute. “I will do what I must. I will not let you down.”

General Windu just looked a little sad, like he knew something that no one else did about him. Cody found it hard to imagine that someone would be a bit upset by General Kenobi’s drive and declaration of persistence. Usually, it was a good trait to have, as far as Cody knew. “I know you won’t. There is a reason I called. We have an intelligence officer that was around Zygerria; the one that gave us the information on the Kiros colonists.”

General Kenobi hummed. “Did this person give you more information?”

He nodded. “Dooku is already heading to Zygerria. His little detour to Umbara has made the Queen send a ship and some of her workers to escort him to her. Basic contact has been made with your missing troopers.”

Both he and General Kenobi perked. “Luke?”

“He has been confirmed aboard but no contact yet.”

“That is something at least.”

“Caution is key, especially with Dooku aboard the ship as well.”

General Kenobi seemed to understand and agreed. “Do not attract attention, I understand. Luke can take care of himself.”

“Even against Dooku?”

“He has been trained and prepared to deal with much worse.”

“Who is he?”

“I’m not sure you would believe me if I tried,” General Kenobi replied, a faintly amused smile quirking from his lips. General Windu mirrored his expression and shook his head, exasperated and fond. “Have you met him?”

“I have not talked to him or seen him, yet no,” General Windu replied, now a bit curious and even a tad more suspicious, although it seemed mocking rather than actually serious. “Why?”

This just made General Kenobi’s smile grow as something twinkled in his eye. “I think, if this is real, I might just love it when you do.”

“Now I’m concerned,” General Windu replied, eyes furrowing.

To Cody’s absolute pleasure and the other High General’s surprise, General Kenobi burst into a light fit of mellow and gentle laughter, authentic and genuine. “Don’t be too worried, dear. Luke meeting you will most likely be the least of your problems.”

Cody didn’t think that made General Windu feel much better, but the mood was lightened just a bit and Cody felt he had some hope. Their conversation lasted a while longer, and while they spoke, they included Cody within their ideas and thoughts on what to do next. Their plan shifting into something a bit less noisy and a bit more subtle. Cody thought with General Skywalker around, it would dive right back into crazy.

He was pretty sure General Kenobi agreed.

*

Their approach to Zygerria space was upcoming and everyone was feeling the anxiety. It spread over most of the ship but centered around the jedi and those closest to them. Everyone knew about what had happened to Captain Rex and Lieutenant Waxer and the other boys and with the hope that they may still be alive, there was concern and optimism with the chance. The closer they got, the angrier Skywalker got, and General Kenobi avoided talking to him by busying himself with relaying orders and going over plans with the others.

“Boil, Trapper, Wooley, Longshot,” Cody ordered, listing off the names rather easily. There were so few of them that he could keep the circle too. He wondered if Luke would be against him widening their circle. There were several other troopers he knew he could trust, and he felt as he could use the help. “You’re with the general and me. Barlex, Threepwood, Crys, Gearshift, I need you to hold down the fort.”

None of them appeared very pleased with being away from the action.

“I need people who know about Luke and the general’s situation, in case something happens,” Cody continued, trying to calm their nerves. “Because whatever happens, we need to prevent the genocide of the jedi and continue to de-chip the GAR so we cannot be used in such a way,” he said, sternly.

It was then agreed rather readily.

*

Anakin

There were many ships going to and from Zygerria as of late and Skywalker just kept growling at the options before them, as each and every one was passed for any number of reasons. He hated that they were just letting them go, one by one, just waiting and trying to find the right one, the one that would suit their needs. They were going to board and take over a ship that was headed to the planet, the home planet of one of the most notorious former slave empires, one that already had access for easy passage to the ground. There were many to choose from and apparently, they had to be careful with their choice.

He hated it.

But they found one. They found one and were simply waiting for it to fall into their grasp. It would be rather easy enough, he imagined. They were standing on the bridge, patiently waiting. Or at least, most of them were patient. Anakin just kept scowling as his hate and anger rose higher and higher. Obi-Wan had hesitated and Anakin saw it, but he put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder, squeezing just gently, like he wasn’t entirely sure if his hand would go through him or not. Like he wasn’t certain Anakin was solid. Whoever had done this to him, whoever had made Obi-Wan doubt himself so much like this, Anakin would make them pay. And then Obi-Wan would never have to feel that way again. “Their empire will not rise again,” he assured, his voice quiet but certain in his words.

Anakin clenched his fist and tried to release it. His voice was rising, only kept low and down by the growl of his chest space in his tone, grumbling up through his throat. It didn’t really matter how loud or quiet he was, however, and although he didn’t really notice it at first, the other officers on the bridge were rather uneasy with his feelings. “Those slaver scum think they are better than everyone else, that they can just bend everyone to their sick will.”

“Be mindful of your feelings,” the statement was almost oddly comforting, it was rather a staple of Obi-Wan’s teachings, as much as Anakin got irritated with it on a constant basis. He hated it, normally, Obi-Wan telling him this. But it was such a normal statement in their dealings, in their life, the one with Obi-Wan, it was also a comfort. At least something was normal. “You cannot let them control you.”

He bit back a scowl. His feelings were what made him powerful, special, but he tried to appease his master. He would do anything right now just to get a little piece of him back. “I know. I know.”

“Breathe with me.”

“What?”

“Breathe with me,” Obi-Wan repeated and for once, Anakin could understand why people thought Obi-Wan so patient. Anakin actually heard him, actually looked into his tone and his voice and him in the Force. He wasn’t judging him, he wasn’t angry or upset, or anything of the sort. He just wanted to help. He just wanted to help Anakin, even if Anakin didn’t think that his feelings were something that he needed help with. “We have a few minutes before we intercept our desired vessel.”

Tentatively, as if it would burn, Obi-Wan took both of Anakin’s hands. The young knight gently squeezed back. Obi-Wan’s gaze was on them for a long moment, rubbing a thumb in tight, light circles on the, studying the flesh hand as if he hadn’t really expected to see it.

“In four beats, through your diaphragm,” Obi-Wan instructed as he inhaled, expecting Anakin to follow. “Hold…. And out for eight.”

Anakin remembered this exercise. It had been years since he had done it, but he remembered it. He remembered the way Obi-Wan would breathe with him when he felt panicked or stressed. Most negative emotions really. He would go on and on, never stopping until Anakin told him and truly felt better. It never mattered how long it took, Obi-Wan had always been there with him, breathing in time with him.

Once upon a time, it had helped.

When had it stopped helping? When had he stopped doing it?

Did it at all? Or did Anakin just stop seeing the use, when he started using his negative emotions, when he saw them as useful and powerful. Had he started to see it as childish or another way Obi-Wan could control him?

Control him, Anakin nearly scoffed. As if he could. As if he wanted to.

Why were his emotions so heightened and negative when it came to Obi-Wan as of late? It had been like that for quite some time, he realized. He was constantly getting upset and angry with his former master and at this particular moment, Anakin could not recall in the foggiest why.

“In four beats,” Obi-Wan repeated and continued to rub circles on the top of Anakin’s hand delicately with his thumb. He focused on the touch, his gaze growing a bit bleary and hazy as he just watched Obi-Wan’s gloved hand move, his tough gentle and light. “Hold four, five, seven….and out one two three.”

They repeated several more times until they were completely in sync, breathing in time with one another, and Obi-Wan was no longer guiding the session. It was just them. As one. Two halves of the same whole.

Two halves of the same whole.

Kind of like the open circle fleet’s symbol.

Obi-Wan’s fleet.

Their fleet.

“It is time,” Obi-Wan said, breaking out of his train of thought. Anakin wished he had more time. He felt like he was getting somewhere. Not just with Obi-Wan, but with himself as well. He was supposed to realize something, he knew it. Something important. It would have to wait. “Do you feel better?” Obi-Wan asked.

It felt nice to be honest about it, and he nodded. “Yes, master.” He hadn’t remembered the last time something like this had helped. Really, he hadn’t remembered the last time he had even done something like this. Who told him that it wouldn’t help? Who told him that this was no longer a good thing? If someone like Obi-Wan was one to do it on a basis, someone as wise and good as him, would it not be good for Anakin as well?

He had so much more to think about.

“Then come, dear one,” Obi-Wan replied, gently. But there was a bit of an edge to it, something Anakin couldn’t quite identify. Perhaps it was just preparation on what was to come. Anakin didn’t really know if Obi-Wan felt something strong like he did about slavery, he doubted it. Obi-Wan hadn’t been a slave for any length of time, but that didn’t mean he had to like it either. The Jedi in general, were doing their best, even before the war, but it just wasn’t enough. With the restrictions in the senate, the illegal activities and simply their lack of numbers, there was only so much the jedi could do. Sometimes Anakin forgot that. “Go fetch your apprentice and meet me in the docking bay. We have a lot to do and an uncertain timetable,” he added. It was technically an order, but it hadn’t felt like it.

Resolute. Anakin nodded.

Ahsoka was raring to go, and they gathered a few soldiers to accompany them. No doubt Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were doing the same. Kix was anxious with the disappearance of Jesse and his other brothers and declared it would be best, in case either someone got hurt or they came across someone who was hurt. He was a good soldier and warrior anyways, even if he wasn’t a medic, Anakin probably would have brought him along. Appo was always a great addition. He was calm and smart, and he was good at keeping people together, although at the moment, they were all a little confused. Perhaps Obi-Wan had promoted him and didn’t tell him? He kept calling the sergeant, commander. It wasn’t completely out of character for Obi-Wan to promote someone and not tell them immediately. And then Dogma was with them as well. In their kerfuffle, he had just slid back into the 501st, looking over what had happened with Krell, keeping rather close to his commanders. Anakin wouldn’t hold it against him; he was trying to be loyal. He just had some bugs to work out, no big deal.

Several 212th boys were waiting with them, armed to the teeth and ready to fight. They had the same calm air that Obi-Wan usually carried around them with something else, as if they were chomping at the bit. Their eyes would darken into something violent and dangerous. This mission was personal. He could understand that. Anakin did realize most of them had been around their meditation study not a few hours prior. He remembered the way Obi-Wan had relaxed in their presence. He still hated that Obi-Wan had relaxed more with them than with Anakin himself, they were his troops, Anakin was his padawan, but he did comprehend something at least. Anakin had his go to’s and favorites, he supposed Obi-Wan did too.

It was an odd thing to think about.

Boarding the upcoming slave ship was rather easy. A single slave ship was no match for even one of the venator ships, much less two. The Negotiator and the Resolute boxed them quite easily and the gunships were off. And any crew of slavers was no match for a single squad of troopers, much less a squad led by a jedi.

Led by several jedi.

It didn’t mean the slaver did not try, however, because they did. Their efforts were a strange mix of amusing and annoying. They tried to shoot at them, threw smoke bombs and other small explosives. Closed normal and blast doors, others reinforced but no matter what, it wasn’t a match for the power and heat of their lightsabers. They could just burn through.

Anakin kept breathing.

He wouldn’t let his anger control him, not with Obi-Wan watching. He had so much to prove. He stayed rather close to his former master and Ahsoka ended up veering off with Master Vos. It wasn’t something that was particularly on his mind. He and Master Vos didn’t always get along but there was something he could trust him with, it was Ahsoka. After all, Master Vos had somehow raised someone as good as Aalya Secura, he must be somewhat decent.

Obi-Wan was…fighting different.

Anakin, he knew how Obi-Wan fought. They had sparred frequently, fought alongside one another constantly, Obi-Wan taught him and Anakin dared to think he had taught Obi-Wan a thing or two as well. They had always been well synced with one another, fighting together like one entity. Mostly because they had been fighting with other another for so long. And it wasn’t just in his padawanship, they were matched together often times during his knighthood too, during the war. Sure, Anakin was technically under Obi-Wan’s command, as the older jedi was a high general, but still, their groups meshed together well. The 501stand 212th worked seamlessly together, just like their generals did. At their best, together, they were an opponent to not be underestimated. One to be feared.

But here, now, it was different. He was different. It was not the same really, they weren’t quite as good. He shouldn’t say that. They were still fantastic, a foe and duo to be feared, undoubtedly, even with their step away from one another. But it wasn’t quite as right as Anakin knew it normally was. Not quite as in sync with each other’s moves as they were before. Oh, how things could change. In a day. Fifteen years. He didn’t like it.

Had it changed so suddenly? Or had this been a slow change? One that had been coming around?

Anakin had known Obi-Wan since he started seriously started practicing Soresu. It was a form he had mastered well. He knew that the older jedi had started off with Aratu, a form he had used against the Sith during the blockade of Naboo. Anakin had watched the security tapes over and over and over again. Many times. He had quickly after that switched over to another form. Anakin had watched as he weighed the pros and cons of each one before finally settling on Soresu, the defensive form. Anakin had asked him why once. He was so good at Aratu, even others had told him that. Obi-Wan had always just looked sad when it was brought up.

“There are so many holes in Aratu, nothing for defense,” he had said.

Anakin hadn’t completely understood it at the time. Of course, he had been ten at the time, so he didn’t really understand much but over time, he did sort of get it. Obi-Wan was haunted by the death of his master, his inability to protect him, although, looking over so many of the tapes so many times, Anakin knew there was nothing he could have done, even if Obi-Wan had been using Soresu during that period. He was trapped behind a barrier, alone.

Sometimes he wondered who was left alone. Had Obi-Wan just not been fast enough? Or had Qui-Gon just ran ahead, recklessly without heed?

Obi-Wan, turned out, was amazing at Soresu, and his demeanor shifted to accommodate that. He was patient and enduring. A good defensive form in contrast to Anakin’s own, more aggressive Shien form.

Soresu was built on defensive blocks and impenetrable shields, which Obi-Wan used to the fullest. It was possibly the most perfect fit for wartime, this wartime, especially against the blaster bolts they were constantly up against, as it was used to deflect and redirect attacks. It didn’t rely on raw power like some of the other forms, raw power that Anakin knew he himself had and Obi-Wan rather lacked.

But that did not make Obi-Wan any less dangerous.

But this…it was still Soresu, the one he was using now, was still identifiable, still the form, still a dance, still an impenetrable shield of defensive blocks…but there was something different about the way he moved. Technical. Mechanical. Something Anakin had never seen before

Soresu often times was criticized because of its lack of offensive attacks and strokes. What good was a defense if you could not defeat your enemy, only block them?

Anakin had thought that once. But he had seen Obi-Wan use that defense to defeat many enemies, including himself.

But this, what Obi-Wan was doing now, even though it was still Soresu, as Anakin could tell, but something was added. Something more raw and powerful, a bit more force behind actual blows that could take instead of just defend. It was Soresu but something was added, something Anakin had not really seen.

What had Obi-Wan done in the future?

He was further, just slightly out of sync with Anakin, a step forward. Was this a sign? Was he being left in the past? Had he lost Obi-Wan forever?

Obi-Wan had never been particularly cruel, sometimes even lacking efficiency in exchange for chance, for mercy and compassion. It had paid off on more than one occasion, even Anakin could admit that, as much as he wanted to just take people down. But that was not the case here. The Soresu master was a whirlwind – giving each of the slaver crew one chance and one chance only – if even that – to surrender and lay down arms. Of course, more often than not, they didn’t. Obi-Wan did not keep giving chances. He did not go out to kill either, Anakin could not imagine his old master doing that, but several slavers lost appendages and others incapacitated by other means. Some would not survive their wounds. Anakin found he didn’t mind.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even paused as he went through the halls, making a straight path to the bridge, where certainly the captain and his closest crew were holed up. They didn’t stand a chance. He barely gave Anakin time to redirect the power in the door to make it open before he went to strike his saber right through it. But when the door did open, he strode in, completely in charge, with a posture to match. There was an air of unyielding, of no chance at all. He did not care what they wanted, and he was not here to negotiate. He was here to take.

“Hello there,” he greeted, although his voice was hard and his tone rather bored with the entire scenario. The captain and a few others just stared, their hands on their weapons, pointed at them. Anakin smirked. “I am General Kenobi, and I am here to take over your ship and relieve you. You of the slaves.”

The captain tried to fight him. He charged and Anakin was all ready to fight back; with his saber at the ready to defend Obi-Wan and take the being down. But Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on his arm before spinning his saber, almost lazily. Anakin barely even saw it move. The captain was on the ground then, crumpled on the floor. Unconscious or dead, Anakin didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

“We must move quickly if we are to keep with the ship’s schedule,” he said and stepped over the slaver, away from him. The rest of the crew had surrendered, staring at their employer with such wide eyes, one might have thought they were no longer inhabiting their bodies. Anakin snarled at the slaver on the ground but bounced after his former master with renewed interest.

The cargo bay had quite a number of slaves in it, spreading several species and people. It was not a large ship by any means. It wasn’t as though Anakin had seen many ships, particularly, that were crowded with slaves, but there was a good dozen or two huddled together. They were cowering and kept to the walls, away from them, many chained to the walls. Obi-Wan just glanced at him, eyes soft and sympathetic and dragging him out to walk into the middle, with a translator droid hot on their heels, before tugging down for him to sit down with him. Anakin followed what he was doing.

Their level. Smaller, less threat. Taking off weapons and setting them away. Within sight of them so they could see. Everything laid bare, just like them.

“Frightened and scared beings act fairly universal,” Obi-Wan hummed under his breath, sad and tired.

He took a breath and told the droid to translate for any of the slaves who did not speak basic.

“My name is jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and we are here to help you,” he started, his voice gentle and kind, but loud enough for those who knew the language to hear it. Beside him, the droid called out in another language that Anakin wasn’t entirely sure he knew. “In a few minutes, you can be taken aboard a Republic cruiser, where your chips and collars will be deactivated and removed. You may eat and rest and will be given clothes. Troopers will come around to ask what you would like to do moving forward,” he gave a pause, allowing the droid to translate the passage. The slaves look tentative. “You may accompany my troopers to Coruscant where you will stay at the Jedi Temple until you can start new lives where you would like, contact families and home worlds if you have them or find a new place to settle.”

Anakin just stared at his master, silently. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting really. Was this it? Was this not? His head was swimming.

“Over there is Sergeant Barlex,” Obi-Wan said, gesturing beside him as he continued and the droid relayed the words, even pointing over to the clone as well. Anakin looked up and sure enough, several clone troopers stood by him, none of which had their weapons on them at the moment. He made a gesture, and the troopers removed their helmets, revealing their generally identical faces. Anakin stared at them, reaching out, as if he could just memorize them right here and right now. These were some of the troopers that Obi-Wan cared for, that he trusted and loved. Anakin should trust them too, at the very least. Because he did, to some extent, have to. Trust them with Obi-Wan’s life, especially when he was not around. “He and troopers Gearshift, Crys and Threepwood will be assisting you.”

Carefully and slowly, Anakin stood up and he walked over to one of the slaves, kneeling down in front of them, keeping his hands where they could see him and telegraphed his movements. He gave them some bread that he tucked away in his robe and handed out pieces for them to share. “There is plenty more where that came from,” he promised. He wasn’t entirely sure if they could understand his words, but they seemed to get his meaning.

“Please do be kind to them, Sergeant,” he heard Obi-Wan’s voice behind him.

“Of course, sir,” the trooper replied, curtly, but his voice was surprisingly understanding, and kind, despite the gruffness of it. “Keep yourself alive. And bring our kid back home, would you?”

Our kid? Anakin hadn’t known that some of the 212th troopers already knew Luke. Already knew him enough to like him, to be a bit rather protective. Was it that easy and simple to bond with them? Could Anakin have that with even Obi-Wan’s troops so effortlessly?

Obi-Wan nearly laughed. “Of course, sergeant. You quite like him, don’t you?”

Barlex shrugged as Anakin made his way back over to them, upon giving several slaves a few things of bread. He had kind of stuffed his pockets and robes and sleeves with them. Water wouldn’t have kept in the battle or a fight, but food was the next best thing. “He’s a good kid. Strong head on his shoulders. Calm, determined. Not a great listened, sneaking off with Lieutenant Waxer’s platoon but, well, it seems to run in the family.” He almost even sounded amused. That didn’t seem normal for the trooper from what he could tell.

Anakin’s former master snorted. “Ah, you have no idea, Sergeant,” he chuckled.

“We’ve got this, sir,” another trooped nodded next to him. “We will get all the people off the ship pronto so you and the others can move on schedule.”

Another nod. “Thank you, Threepwood.”

“Gearshift is rounding up the crew, preparing for departure.”

“Departure?” Anakin asked, curiously.

“Since we cannot technically free slaves and take down slavers due to the Chancellor’s emergency powers,” Obi-Wan growled, more than just a bit bitter. Anakin continued to be mildly surprised. He wondered why that was. “We will…ahem…convince and persuade them to abandon the people and scatter.”

“We cannot arrest them?” Anakin hissed.

“The Chancellor says he does not want to strain relationships with the Hutts and other powerful entities,” Quinlan Vos snorted as he and Anakin’s padawan walked up and united with them. She was practically bouncing, her eyes fiery with justice and a readiness to battle. “So, he’s been easy on their…employees and their occupation of choice.”

Anakin swallowed. That…could not be right.

That could not be right. No way that…

His thoughts were interrupted by Obi-Wan’s next words, his voice growing loud, as if he was trying to drown out Anakin’s thoughts. “Are there any other beings or things aboard that need to be moved?”

Anakin was technically paying attention, but his eyes were on the slaves that were gently being led by the troopers, sans their weapons, off the ship and towards the larger vessels. Someone had landed the Negotiator already, so the people were being led straight into the docking bay, away from the horrid place that was once a slave ship.

One of the troopers did have his weapon, but he was rounding up those that were obviously slavers and masters. Anakin stared at him for a long moment. The gear tattoo on him was interesting in some mundane, distracting way. It almost looked like was moving, like real gears.

“A few animals,” Ahsoka replied, easily. “Not any big ones, but a few small ones. Generally friendly.”

“Probably used as pets,” Obi-Wan mused. “Commander, can you get one of the boys to start hauling any living thing off as well? I don’t want to have to worry about any of them when we move on.”

Anakin imagined the trooper nodded but he was watching everything else instead.

“Anakin?”

He startled and turned around. Everyone was staring at him. “Huh?”

“I called your name a couple of times. Are you alright?” Obi-Wan asked, still hesitant, but no less worried.

He frowned. “I can handle myself.”

“That is not in question,” his former master cleared his throat as he spoke carefully, like he wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. It almost made Anakin scowl because Obi-Wan had never been this uncertain about and around him before. It was incredibly frustrating. “But I know this situation is difficult for you and that is completely understandable. It is not a question of your ability, dear one.”

Anakin nearly melted right then and there. Obi-Wan froze, only for a brief second, as though he hadn’t realized he had said the sweet endearment. Had it been such a while since Obi-Wan had called him that? For him, he supposed, it had been fifteen years. For Anakin…had it been long? Why did he stop? Did he stop at all or did Anakin just stop paying attention?

“Anakin?”

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you sure you want to go to Zygerria?”

“I went the last time, didn’t I?”

Obi-Wan hesitated and glanced away briefly before looking back straight at him. He looked so concerned. Was he worried that Anakin would fall apart right then and there? When Obi-Wan needed him in the heat of the middle of the mission? He wouldn’t, of course, and Obi-wan’s lack of faith disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Anakin wondered what had happened last time; if he had let Obi-Wan down in such a way. “Yes,” he replied, cautious and slow. “And suffice to say, it did not particularly end well on any notion of the time.”

“What happened?”

The older man swallowed and glanced at Master Vos. Anakin huffed. Of course, he knew. “Did you tell Master Vos?”

“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “He just knows me. We have been friends for quite some time, if you recall.” Oh, he could. “And aside from rescuing the colonists of Kiros, the mission before did not go particularly well. It was different than what we are doing now of course, but no one was put in a good position, least of all you.”

He wanted to bristle. He really did, but the look on Obi-Wan’s face made him stop. Something had changed. Maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the way Anakin was seeing that look on his face. Like, something he hadn’t quite noticed before. It was as if he could see what Luke was talking about. The grief, the infinite sadness. Had Anakin put that on him? It wasn’t pity, but rather empathy, of kindness and just wanting better for him, not about him.

Obi-Wan didn’t mean anything poorly by it, Anakin thought to himself and for some reason, that realization just floored him. He was just trying to protect him. Even if he didn’t want him to, even if Anakin could protect himself, Obi-Wan continued to do so. Was it really because Obi-Wan didn’t think he could do it himself, that he didn’t have the faith in Anakin’s abilities? Or was he just so used to it that it was just second nature. Obi-Wan had spent over ten years protecting him, teaching him. He supposed that wasn’t something he could just turn off. But then again, after all, wasn’t Anakin trying to do the same thing, all the time.

“I’ll be okay,” he vowed, walking back over to them and taking his place at Obi-Wan’s side before anyone else could snatch it from him, shooting a bit of a glare at Master Vos and the other troopers, pointedly trying to avoid Ahsoka so she would not see it. “And if I’m not, I will tell you.”

That surprised his former master, but his expression was quickly washed away by calm and pleasant gratitude. “Alright, I believe you.”

Anakin swallowed. He would not lie to Obi-Wan.

[patriciasage]

promises, promises

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary: 

Taako made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

He isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

posted in full under the break but you can find me on AO3!!

There are two months left in the cycle and Lup is gone. She, Merle, and Davenport were poisoned during a political meeting.

Taako hadn’t been hungry that day. He wishes he would have taken a drink. Magnus hates when he says it, but he prefers to die by her side than live without her. And death would have been much more preferable to watching her choke and spasm in front of him. Helpless.

Lucretia has a lot on her plate now, attempting to negotiate with the bastards who killed them. There was death on both sides, since Taako literally burned the place to the ground. It seems as though they’re on the verge of war – the four remaining crewmembers versus this country’s royal armies.

Taako doesn’t give a shit.

“What’s the fucking point?” he asks Lucretia when she made plans to meet with the royal representative. “This cycle’s gone to Hell; let’s just go.”

“We have two months left,” Lucretia says. “We have a chance to work through this and get the Light. Then they didn’t die in vain.” Her voice cracks. Taako attempts to be gentle with his friend, even though rage flows through him like a roaring stream.

But quiet vitriol escapes his mouth. “Are they even worth saving?”

Lucretia looks at him with bright, brown eyes. “Taako.”

“They killed Merle and Davenport and Lup! And they should have killed me too. And we’re still going to bend over backwards in order to save them? They obviously wouldn’t do the same for us.”

“That’s not how this works,” Lucretia says, quiet and stern. “We don’t decide who is worth saving or not.” She places her dark hand on Taako’s shoulder. “I know you’re hurting, T. And I won’t make you be a part of this. But I’m going to try and get the Light of Creation. And you’re going to make it through these next few months to see her again.”

Taako could see her again right now if he wanted to. But he doesn’t say that. And he doesn’t let himself truly entertain the thought. He promised.

Everyone on the ship is grieving in their own way. Barry becomes entirely reclusive, locking himself in his lab. Magnus cries a lot over the first few days and blames himself for not being at the meeting to protect them, but then he focuses his energy into learning to pilot the Starblaster. Taako attempts to distract his mind from the grief that sits deep in his bones.

Knowing their deaths are temporary doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Magnus makes it his personal mission to take care of Taako, which is very annoying but also helps with his plan for distraction. He sits next to the Magnus as the fighter test-drives the ship. It’s hard to think about your dead sister when your friend is crashing a spaceship into a lake.

But Magnus isn’t only recklessness and aggressive enthusiasm. He’s also soft and sensitive – and fucking manipulative. He tells Taako he needs a hug or someone to keep him company when he sleeps. Taako knows these are partial lies. He knows that Magnus just wants to hold his pieces together, to shield Taako from the nightmares that tear him apart.

Taako travels through the days like molasses. He wants to exist in the bare minimum, avoid the smouldering flame threatening to burn him up. But it’s hard to exist, unfeeling, in a world where he’s always had her at his side. He can’t do anything without thinking of her.

He drinks too much.

It helps a little, but it causes Magnus to make that sad, helpless expression, so Taako hides it as best he can.

He made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

Taako isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

Food is always an effective way to build a bridge between two stubborn souls. Taako steps foot into the Starblaster’s kitchen for the first time since the disaster a few weeks ago. Lucretia is a passable cook, so the remaining crew haven’t been suffering too much, but her meals are nothing compared to the twins’ concoctions.

Absolutely everything on this ship reminds Taako of his sister (pretty much every aspect of existence reminds him of his sister), but the kitchen is particularly salient. He stands in the doorway and breathes through it, thankful that no one is around. Lup is the only one who knows him at his core, the only one who’s ever seen his soft, fragile centre. Magnus has been digging closer and closer every cycle with his big hands and even bigger smile. But there’s no one Taako trusts like he trusts Lup.

And she’s gone.

And he made her a promise.

There are so many lakes on this world. Taako had spent most of springtime fishing and filleting, so the freezer is full. He takes out a few cuts of cod, expertly deboned, as well as some salt, pepper, lemon, chili powder, and dill. He starts the rice boiling and thaws the fish with a flick of his wand. The meat hasn’t been frying for too long before Magnus and Lucretia appear at the kitchen table, summoned by the smell. They’re looking at him with an irritating mixture of encouragement and wariness. He ignores them and focuses on cooking. He’s mentally batting away memories and feelings constantly and it’s starting to take a toll.

The kitchen is silent except for the sizzle of fish in the pan and the soft murmur of boiling rice. Taako transmutes some beans into asparagus and tosses that in the pan as well.

“Fucking talk,” he says to the stove.

Magnus startles into conversation. Taako feels his friends’ gazes move away from his back and toward each other. He focuses on their chat even though it’s boring. It’s easier than fighting his heart’s insistent ache.

He avoids looking at their faces while he places their meals in front of them. “Thank you,” Lucretia says softly. Magnus places a big, warm hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

Taako feels his mouth press into a shadow of a smile. He squeezes Magnus’s hand and steps away. “Dig in. I’m gonna bring some to the lab rat.”

Barry is asleep at his desk, drooling on a sketch of one of his prototypes. Taako sets the plate down next to him and watches the smell wake him up. His glasses are askew even when he lifts his head.

There’s an awful moment when he looks at Taako and his face softly lights up. Taako’s stomach sinks, and then Barry comes fully into awareness and looks away. Taako regrets shaving his face his morning and he regrets wearing his hair up the way Lup usually does before bed. He doesn’t blame Barry for the disappointment.

“This is good shit, so you’d better not let it get cold,” Taako says. He leans against the workbench with his arms crossed.

“Smells good,” Barry replies with his characteristic, gruff awkwardness. Taako tries not to fidget. The chill of Lup’s absence is strongest in the kitchen, but it’s swirling around the lab, too. It’s typical to see Lup sprawled on the couch pretty much every evening, chattering while Barry tries and fails to focus on his work.

Barry puts a forkful of rice in his mouth and speaks around it. Gross. “Did you eat already?”

Taako is absentmindedly surprised when he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything except a bite of toast that Magnus practically shoved in his mouth this morning. He curses himself for thinking about it too long and ruining what could have been a perfectly good lie. “Yep, sure did.”

“Taako…” Barry says disapprovingly, lowering his fork.

“Get outta my ass, Barry. I’m, like, a hundred years old, or something.” Age doesn’t mean much to them, anymore. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child. I’m treating you like – ” He sighs. “Do you have some left over upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Taako lies. He walks toward the door. “Gonna go eat now, so…enjoy, or whatever.”

Barry rubs his eyes under his glasses. “Thanks, Taako.”

“Shit,” Taako mutters as he climbs the stairs. Why didn’t Lup tell Magnus or Lucretia to take care of Barry? Hell, anyone would do a better job than him.

Taako enters the now empty kitchen and casts Prestidigitation to clean the dishes, but he stops before he can leave for the upper deck. There’s a full plate of food on the table. It’s obvious that Magnus and Lucretia had each put half of their meal onto a clean plate. They’re taking advantage of his inability to throw away food, engrained from his childhood. Taako sighs but sits at the table to eat. He feels more solid when he’s done, but just as empty.

The next day is better.

“Come for a walk,” Taako demands from Barry’s bedroom doorway. Barry yelps and covers his chest with a blanket.

“Taako!”

“Come for a walk!” the elf repeats, leaving the door ajar as he leaves.

Barry joins him on the Starblaster’s lower deck in a few minutes, hair messy but fully clothed. “Where are we going?”

Before Taako has a chance to respond, Magnus rushes in. “Don’t forget your cloak – it’s kinda cold. Oh, hey, Barry. You coming with us?”

“I guess I am.”

“Great!”

Magnus hands Barry his denim jacket and throws Taako’s thicker cloak in his direction. The security officer himself is wearing a wool-lined vest with no sleeves. Taako resists the urge to roll his eyes when he notices.

The men don’t talk a lot as they traverse the path that Magnus and Taako have worn down over the last few weeks. They skip rocks on the surface of the still water. Barry stays far away from the water’s edge. Magnus picks Taako up and pretends he’s about to throw him in. Instead of protesting, Taako looks the man in the eyes with a challenge. “Do it. I fucking dare you, Burnsides.” Magnus freezes and just stands there holding the elf in his arms for a moment. Taako smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Barry disappears into his lab when they return to the ship, but Taako still considers it a success. After a few days, Barry no longer needs to be woken up; he joins them in the foyer, sleepy but ready, every morning. Lucretia comes, too, when she’s not out negotiating.

Taako cooks when he can.

Sometimes he’s good. Sometimes the air of the kitchen suffocates him. Barry sees him once, standing in the pantry, frozen and overwhelmed. “Hey,” he says. There’s something soft and complex in his expression when Taako whirls around.

“What’s up, my man?” Taako’s voice breaks more than usual. The stiffness of his hands betrays him, too. Barry beckons him out of the pantry. Taako follows quietly as the scientist travels to the Starblaster’s upper deck.

The endless night sky is strangely comforting. There aren’t many constants in their life besides each other, their target, and their enemy. But the sky is always there and ready to take them away.

Barry opens a hatch near the centre of the deck and brings out what looks like a piece from a broken chair. “Ready?” he asks.

“What?”

Barry just nods and then throws the item high into the air. Taako understands when it reaches his highest peak, but he can’t bring himself to take out his wand. The piece of wood falls into a nearby like with a soft splash.

“Oh, sorry,” Barry says awkwardly. “You’re supposed to hit it with a spell –”

“I know what I’m supposed to do, Barry. I’ve lived with her my whole life,” Taako snaps. He takes a breath and tries again. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, man. But that’s her. She feels things build up inside and needs to let ‘em out in a way she can control. But I- …I’m not full of anything.” He turns to leave. “So, thanks, dude, but this isn’t gonna work for me.”

Barry grabs his wrist. “Taako, wait!” He looks a little helpless. “Then what does work for you? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Barry attempts a smile but he’s shivering a little in the night air. “Like you said to me the other day – you’re over a hundred years old. You know. So, tell me what makes you feel better when you feel like shit so I can help you out.”

“I don’t want your fucking help, Barry.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad!” Barry rarely raises his voice. It echoes across the empty deck and is swallowed by the night sky. “Tell me, Taako.”

He knows the answer will hurt both of them when it leaves his mouth, but he says it anyway. “Being with her.” Barry averts his gaze and Taako feels both sick and triumphant. “Just…being in her company makes me feel like a person again. So. Unless you can do that for me, I think we’re done here.”

Taako stands outside Magnus’s bedroom door for a few minutes. He raises his hand to knock then lowers it again. He spends the night on a nearby dock, listening to the waves lap against the shore and slowly emptying a bottle of rum.

The next morning, they pretend it didn’t happen. They go for their morning walk and let Magnus carry the conversation.

Lucretia gets the Light of Creation against all odds – and just in time. There’s only about two days left in this Cycle. Taako makes her favourite dish, piri piri chicken, and they allow themselves to celebrate with wine and music. It never feels completely right to celebrate, knowing the Hunger is still going to cause a lot of damage, but they need to allow themselves these small successes. The men also feel the need to show appreciation to Lucretia, since she worked tirelessly to save this world while they went for walks and crashed the ship into lakes.

Magnus is dancing with Lucretia in the kitchen and Taako makes a quick exit before the big man can trap him in another embrace. He finds Barry on the couch, lost in thought. He sits down beside him, touching their wine glasses together in a small toast. “We made it,” the wizard says before taking another drink.

“Yeah,” Barry says. They’re both thinking the same thing. They’ll see her again soon.

Barry turns to face him. “Listen, Taako, I’m sorry I was so pushy the other night.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just…” Barry sighs. “I promised her I’d take care of you and I –”

“What?” Taako interrupts. They look at each other, incredulous and inquiring. “She made me promise to take care of you, dude.”

Barry smiles and laughs. Taako fumes. As if Barry Bluejeans could take care of him – what was she thinking? “We both did kind of a shit job, didn’t we?” Barry says.

“Hey, without me you would’ve starved to death.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

A few days later, Magnus flies the Starblaster through the Hunger’s advancing tendrils, their bodies fragment, and the entire crew materializes in their set places. Before Lup can even take a breath, Taako shoves her hard. “What the fuck?” she sputters. He silences her with a hug.

The IPRE crew puts the past behind them and they settle into a new life on a new world. Barry and Lup go back to their routine of being attached at the hip and stubbornly not talking about their feelings. Lup and Taako cook and practice magic together. Barry and Taako aren’t close, per se, but they tolerate each other in a new, honest and kind way.

It’s worth it to see the smile on Lup’s face.

[a-luran]

For your ask post (as I am infinitely curious) can I be cheeky and ask both fruk and scoteng 👀

hello! and of course ;)

FrUK

-What made you ship it?

Their dynamic! I feel like there are so many ways to interpret their relationship and how they relate to each other. From barely-restrained hostility, to a staunch rivalry, to the warm familiarity of an always (always at each other’s throat, at each other’s back. One step removed, and suddenly too close. Knuckles brushing, ever at odds, but oh please darling don’t let me go without one last dance.)  I love to see all the different iterations and interpretations of their relationship as people choose to write them, and I really appreciate how rich and fleshed out they can be. 


Another thing was the absolutely stunning human AUs in particular that I was lucky to read through the years and just captured my heart.


- What are your favourite things about the ship?

I love the contrast between them. Especially in how Francis and Arthur express themselves. I’m inclined to believe that despite how diametrically opposed they appear to be, at their core they can be very similar, and i enjoy that as well. Stubborn bastards! I like how drawn they are to each other (platonically or romantically) and how interwoven their histories are; and the idea that being together allows them to be their truest selves beyond the more public persona’s they present to the rest of the world. 

I absolutely have a soft spot for Francis indulging Arthur—letting him be rough and uncouth; letting him grieve or rage. And that despite all of his many insecurities Arthur knows that even at their worst, Francis has always been right there. Just a stretch away. (And likewise.)

I also like the idea of characters sharing a mutual, grudging respect and finding humour in the worst, most embarrassing parts of themselves… and there is plenty of that to be had with fruk!


-Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I’m not sure how unpopular this is, but I feel like it is a pretty equal power exchange between these two, even when one of them holds the upper hand (and they really are not above playing dirty, in love or war). 
And I do prefer them to be equally hung up on each other, even if Francis might be better at maintaining a facade of detachment. Even when they are not together romantically they are inescapably a part of each other’s lives.

ScotEng

-What made you ship it?

The potential I saw for their relationship just swept me of my feet and i haven’t looked back since!

There is a great thing to be explored when the relationship shared by two (or more) characters is built on living so long and having to forgive so much—and throughout it all finding common ground. Shared grief, shared joy, shared shame, are all very powerful emotions and themes that I personally both love writing and reading about. Especially when it comes to these two!

There are of course a good few fics that sealed the deal and made me fall in love with this pairing, too. I’ll get to making a rec list one of these days! A lot of hidden gems even if we’re more a sailboat (or… a bucket with oars) these days. 

(I won’t lie--I do sorely miss the handful of other scoteng authors and artist who’s work I loved and with whom I really enjoyed talking. Lonely water, these days. But I am always chuffed to meet new people <3)  


-What are your favourite things about the ship?

In a very similar vein to fruk—the familiarity. These are two nations that have been at odds more often than not and are irrevocably entangled. Where I feel like fruk is louder and, potentially, more public, scoteng has always felt… quieter. Like giving in and falling into each other was always an inevitable ‘coming home’ of sorts. (And what a relief, what a breathless sigh, to finally let go after having held off for so long and kept their distance, their blades sharpened and at each other’s throats. The war is over. There is nothing left to do but fall. The arms that hold you are steady, his heart steadfast, and you are finally caught.)

I am filled with soft spots for these two—and I do love having the flexibility of shaping Alasdair as my OC. He feels like an old friend at this point, and I do adore him.

Another of my favourite things is how easily scoteng lends itself as part of a wider found family with Wales, Ireland, and NI. Platonic or romantic, I have a lot of headcanons as to how and (perhaps more importantly) why they would band together, frictions and all. Found family is and loyalty against all odds are just such delightful tropes to me.

-Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I… strongly disagree with Scotland’s characterisation by a certain (at one point very vocal) quarter of the fandom. But ah, c'est la vie! 


I could go on and on but I think this captures the gist of it! Thank you for the ask, and I’d love to hear your takes as well if you felt like sharing them <3

(Also may I just say-- scotfruk is *chef’s kiss* forever my OT3.)

[arson-yeehaw]

okay since I just got done screaming about this in a discord server, here is

harry potter and the importance of astrological signs and their elements

harry potter is a leo, a fire sign. you can see the fire and determination in how he learns defense (like with the patronus charm in 3rd year) he also has a very strong magical core. his core is like an ocean. he has those opposites inside himself.

harry was also a product of the war. the was pushed lily and snape away from each other (idk if they would ever be love intests, but that's not the point) the POINT is lily starts to hang out with the marauders, and falls in love with James. they get married young, because of the war. they have a kid young, because of the war. harry was *made* to be what ended the war. and your probably thinking "but arson! what about Neville?" Neville's parents were born from 1957- 1959 (the wiki page) they had time to get married before the war took over their lives.

james and lily didn't get that. they had a kid at 20 years old. harry was born because of the war.

Neville would have been born even if there wasn't a war

and thats why harry is the chosen one. he is that balancing force. he is the good to voldemorts evil. he maintains balance. he has the opposites of fire and water inside him. he is the yang to voldermorts yin. and if you remeber those pictures of yin and yang, they have a portion of the other inside of them. harry has voldemort's horcrux. after the events in the graveyard of the goblet of fire, voldemort has a piece of harry inside him. (blood of my enemy)

also, say what you will, but JKR intended slytherins to be evil. she said in an interview or tweet? (I can't find it, help) that she wishes she sorted snape into gryffindor because he was good all along (at least, thats my interpretation) point being, she made gryffindor to be good, and slytherin to be bad. and what two houses was harry considered for? that's right. he has those opposites inside of him!

enough about harry tho.

Hermione is an earth sign. she is a virgo. she is stubborn, and set in her ways. she is a rule follower (when she wants to be). she has a strong moral code. a mountain cannot be moved. but it can be changed. by what? WATER

AND GUESS WHO'S A FUCKING WATER SIGN! ITS RONALD BILIUS WEASELY, THATS WHO! a river will create a groove for itself in the earth. that is why ron and hermionie are perfect for each other, as lovers or friends.

water is also a gentle force. ron is the one to usually calm hermionie down (when he isn't the one making her angry in the first place).

water is a flow. ron will go ahead with whatever scheme hermionie and harry comes up with. he is the supportive force.

so now we have 3 of the 4 elements. all we need is air. and guess who is air.

one fucking guess

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

he is the air sign, that completes the elements. he is the driving force to all of the Golden trio's decisions. the 4th member of their squad, Harry's mentor. and guess what.

cold air freezes water. wind fans flame.

he is the man pulling all the strings, the manipulative old magpie (stole that term from @deadcatwithaflamethrower , sorry) who the entire series (kind of) revolves around. think about it. in every book, even the deathly hallows where he's already dead, he is the driving force for all of the trio's actions. he is the one pushing harry to accept the role of savior.

he is the 4th member of Harry's little gang.

professor mcgonagall is also an air element. but she is the opposite of dumbledore.

she is supportive where dumbledore is manipulative, and she is strict where dumbledore is not.

air also plays a huge role in the series. the first spell the trio learns is wingardium leviosa. a levitating spell. air. the first spell is associated to hogwarts and therefore to dumbledore.

then harry is allowed to join the quidditch team. which is flying. air. and who is the person that buys him his first broom, and who makes an exception to the rules? mcgonagall.

then there's snape. he's another earth sign. he is grounded. if the opposite to fire is water, then the opposite of earth is air. he is another of dumbledore's opposites. he is grounded where dumbledore is flighty. it shows in the way they use their magic. snape is inclined to potions, which deals almost entirely with things found in the earth (cauldron metals, plant ingredients, etc.)

dumbledore was a transfiguration teacher before he took the role as headmaster. (I honestly have nothing for this point, if you think of something, PLEASE add it on)

and guess who's another air sign. lily evans potter. the sign opposite to snape, and similar to dumbledore, and compatible to ron.

and james is fire. james and lily are not the ones deemed most compatible (water and air; fire and earth) or opposites (air and earth; fire and water) they just are.

argue whatever you like about that one, I'm not gonna start a shipping war in this post.

thats it for now, please add on to this if you want

disclaimer: all of this knowledge is from the books (which I read years back), the movies, some ATLA knowledge, my limited knowledge of astrology, wiki articles, and stuff I made up in my head. I have no clue if anyone has thought of this before, and if they have, I've never seen it before. :)

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Bjorn Ironside x Female Reader: Skjaldmær

A/N : This is what I get for watching the Vikings before bed. A story based off a dream that I had a couple of nights ago, featuring Bjorn and a badass!female reader.  Part 2 may be in cards for this one if anyone’s interested? Let me know.  Also I have like a million messages to respond to, I promise I’ll get there. Please, bear with me? WARNINGS: Gore, violence, blood - the whole package. 

This wonderful GIF ain’t mine.  “This is a suicide mission”.

Your brother, Jonas, finally spoke, ever the optimist. With your eyes fixed firmly on the vast expanse of the open sea, you embraced the feeling of the salty wind brushing through your hair and caressing your cheeks. Your horse, Morning Star, grumbled impatiently underneath you, showing his excitement at what was to come. Animals, they simply sensed this kind of stuff - that, and well, he probably smelled dried blood and fire smoke, even from afar, that unmistakable odour of the others.

Your people called them the Vikings, the Norsemen, the Pagans - depending more on who was telling the story, than on the narrative in itself. Their reputation preceded them - half of your father’s counsel, or whatever was left of it, now that he went to war with the French, told you to leave everything behind, and move further into the country. That being said, none of them really believed that you’d be able to outrun these animals - it was written all over their faces, even if they refused to voice their thoughts - but you had to give it to them, their advice actually made sense.

It all started out a week ago, when a little farm boy called Jimmy ventured all the way to the sea front, trying to push the stubborn cattle back to the open fields. Something caught his eye as he tried to shoo one of his goats, who must have felt especially adventurous, from the edge of the cliff and back to safety. A series of little black dotes littered the horizon, growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Jimmy might have been a very terrestrial creature, he knew a ship when he saw one. He told as much to his father - and from there, the word had traveled fast. 

When you were still a little girl, you father had made a point out of teaching you to reserve any kind of judgement based upon the words of others - but now, right at this moment, looking at the long, sleek ships cutting through the veins of the deep blue sea like razor blades, you could easily believe all those stories of bloodshed, violence and rape, surrounding the Vikings. The boats - maybe fifty in total - looked menacing under the dark grey sky, heavy clouds pregnant with unshed tears for those who would perish at the hands of the Pagans. 

“You should have left with the others”, Jonas spoke again, licking his dry lips as he, too, stared at the horizon. “You’re King Ipswich’s only daughter. Can’t imagine what those animals would do to you if they learn”.

“Now, now, they’d have to get their hands on me first”, a ghost of a smile lit up your features for a fleeting moment. “And if they do, I’ll be dead long before they touch as much as a hair on my head. And God be my witness, I will not go alone. If I go down -“

“You’ll go down swinging,” Jonas finished for you, a warm smile gracing his features for the first time since he learned about the Pagans coming. 

You watched him, unblinking, basking in the glow of his smile, making sure to take a mental picture of every little detail - the curve of his lips, small crinkles in the corners of his eyes… 

For you weren’t sure you’d ever get to see that smile again.

***

One calculated swing of your elegant curved sword was all it took for a giant Viking to collapse on his knees, choking on his blood. You watched him grasp his neck with both hands, his eyes wide and surprised as he stared at you, unblinking. 

Even with your armour on, all leather and metal, you knew you looked far less menacing than their women - sporting long braids soaked in blood, and black elaborate designs inked into their scarred skin. Yet, if anything, you considered this prejudice an immense advantage - your face stinging from the hot Viking blood spilled all over it just went to show that your skills had taken them by surprise. 

Sitting on the throne alongside your father for the last couple of years, you’d proven yourself to be a just yet merciful soon-to-be ruler; on the battlefield you were ruthless, baring your pearl teeth as you sliced another Viking’s head off.

What was an hour ago your people’s elaborate, beautiful lacquered houses was now a pile of burning wood, spitting black smoke into the air, thick with the odour of blood. Your eyes stung, tears forming in their corners, as you looked around, searching for your brother. You’ve been separated a while ago (minutes? hours? you’d lost count) by a group of Vikings with tattooed faces. You’ve killed three of them in a brutal fight - the last one managed to cut a side of your face, splitting your eyebrow - blood rolled down your cheek freely, but you refused to pay mind to the injury. Jonas was nowhere to be found, and with a clenching heart, you prayed to God he managed to get away...

An agonizing cry resonated over the noises of the battle - the sound pinned you to the ground, making blood freeze in your veins. Panic hit you like a hurricane as you recognized your brother’s voice, cursing the Vikings’ entire race to eternal damnation. 

It all happened so fast - and yet too slow - for the love of God, you felt too much, and nothing at all at once!… 

A deafening gasp left your bloodied lips as you turned your head in Jonas’ direction, the world around you coming to a screeching halt. You could feel your messy and bloodied strands of hair hit your cheek as your lips fell open, a terrified scream burning the back of your throat.

It lasted less than a second, yet still long enough to haunt you forever. 

Two Vikings, tall and proud, their faces scarlet with blood, towered over Jonas. Your brother - your everything - stood, vanquished, on his knees by their side. Your heart nearly giving out at the sight, you lurched forward, yelling your brother’s name at the top of your lungs. 

All it took was a caress of a blade. 

A slight, almost lazy flick of a Viking’s wrist. 

Your brother stared at you wide-eyed, blood pulsing through the neat cut on his neck, streaming down his chest in a red waterfall. Choking and gurgling, he pressed one of his hands to his throat, as if trying to keep the flow in, just to say one last word. 

“Sister...” he managed, reaching out to you with his other hand, broken, bloody and bruised.

He fell down on his face there and then, his eyes glassy, his bloody mouth giving up the ghost of that radiating smile of his - it was now gone, gone for eternity. 

You were screaming like a wounded animal as your feet took you to these barbarians. An hour before, you were a force to be reckoned with. Now you were deadly. Unstoppable. You couldn’t care less if you lived or died anymore. All you had now, all that made sense, was the fire in your chest, burning your heart to ashes, and a place you needed to reach.

Your features distorted by a mask of rage, you charged at the two Vikings, your sword held high and ripping through the wall of smoke. The cry you let out sounded like it tore your throat on the inside. Swishing your blade, you made both men recoil in surprise; your movements fast and precise, you cut one of the Vikings across his chest, glad to see him bleed. Growling, he stumbled back. Swinging the sword with a circular movement of your wrist, you gave him a twisted smile, all bloody teeth... right before you dug your fingers into the cut on his shoulder, pulling him in. Your sword pierced his chest squarely in the middle, as you pushed him onto it, his blood splashing all over your front and cheeks. Gripping the handle of your weapon tighter, you twisted it around, your eyes never quitting the Viking’s face - not until you saw the light go out in his watering eyes. Sliding your sword out of his hollow chest with one sharp move, you let his body drop to the ground as you looked around, your eyes searching for the deadman’s accomplice. 

A bitter laugh pushed its way through your lips as you saw the man stumble back at the sight of you - could you blame him? You probably looked insane, pain of loss and hunger for revenge taking over every fiber of your body. You cocked your head to a side as you took a step towards him, studying his face. He was young - maybe even younger than you. Among the usual attributes of those other men - long braided hair, strong jaw - you saw fear flash in those turquoise eyes of his. That elicited another smile out of you - and it was enough for the man to go into the attack stance, his sword aimed at your chest.

“Hvitserk, no!” 

Intricate sounds of the foreign dialect tingled through your body. Their echo gnawed at your earlobes, scratched your neck and caressed your shoulders, pulling you in. 

As your eyes searched for the man who’d spoken, you wondered whether it was the dialect or the man himself - you’ve heard the Norse before but it had never sounded so rich and tantalizing. Every minor change in the atmosphere, every breath, every clash of the swords on the battlefield - your body seemed to vibrate with terrible energy, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. That voice - that raw and guttural arrangement of notes - shook you to the core, leaving a pulsating sensation behind. 

The man standing before you - Hvitserk, you presumed - hadn’t moved. He stared at you unblinking, from the looks of it paying no mind to the powerful tenor. Your wicked smile grew wider as your gazes locked again; when suddenly, a torrid movement caught your eye behind Hvitserk’s back. 

The owner of that voice looked like the very definition of a Viking; he moved like one, too. Tall, ramroad straight, broad-shouldered and rock-jawed, he slid his sword out of a man’s chest, and squeezed its blade lightly between his arm and his ribs, wiping the blood on his clothes. Bear-like, his neck muscles drumhead tight, he sank his cerulean eyes into your frame, a content smirk playing upon his thin lips. Your breath caught in your throat as the man yelled something to Hvitserk again, something you didn’t make out; your heart clenched in your chest - much to your surprise - when the stranger bared his teeth like an animal - like a starved bear - as he headed towards you, ground trembling beneath your feet.

“Her Majesty is mine, brother!” he roared, wild and uncontrollable, quickly closing the distance between you. 

He knew. 

Realization struck you like thunder, your brother’s face flashing before your eyes. 

...You’re King Ipswich’s only daughter. Can’t imagine what those animals would do to you if they learn...

You growled until the sound grew into an angry holler - with your heart crushing hard against your ribcage, you squeezed the handle of your sword...

And started to run - to meet the bear-like Viking halfway. *** The desperate crunching of snow beneath your feet barely registered, as you zigzagged between the bare trunks of trees, now more than ever looking like old bones. Your ragged breaths almost blocked the ringing in your ears, the mocking whooping from behind you urging you to run faster. There was no point in hiding, you knew it all too well - the Vikings were the perfect hunters, probably capable of smelling their prey. Gritting your teeth, you jumped over a trap at the very last moment, nearly stepping into it.

Because that’s what you were now - their prey. The Vikings were hunting you, not for the fun of it, no. They were in it for a kill. 

A nasty sort of satisfaction flashed through your feverish mind as you heard the trap close on someone’s leg close by behind you, the man crying bloody murder. You allowed yourself to look back, if only for a moment, - and instantly regretted it.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of the bear-like Viking - the one with the cerulean blue eyes and a long blond braid - the one you’ve almost slaughtered during the fight. He was now mere meters away from you, so you swore a blue streak, forcing your legs to move faster. Your eyes also caught a growing crowd of the Vikings behind his back, all shouting in a wicked kind of anticipation, their faces smeared with blood. 

If you were honest with yourself, this was indeed a very unfortunate situation as it was. Your chances to get out alive diminished by half, however, when you saw the archer in a chariot pulled by a strong white horse, rush in your direction. That sight alone would have been enough for you to singlehandedly impale yourself on your sword, had you not lost it in the fight...

...When you and the bear-like Viking collided back on the battlefield, your swords connected with such a force, sparks shot out in every direction, and you found yourself thrown back from the impact. Instead of rushing back in, you quickly assessed the situation: you could never win this fight, not by facing the man head-on. He would use his brutal force, his powerful body, to his advantage. One punch or a swing of his sword would be enough for you to go down in history as yet another ruler fallen at the hands of the Barbarians. 

This simply wouldn’t do.

You were faster. Lighter. And certainly less rigid than this mountain of a man. You just had to find a way to use these differences to your advantage. 

And so you did. 

A rowdy crowd of Vikings gathered around the two of you, encircling you completely, urging the bear-like man - their commander in chief with eyes bluer than the skies on the sunny day - to kill you. Your breathing deep and calculated, you blocked them out. Balancing your body weight onto your toes, you jumped back and forth, throwing your sword forward at different angles, trying to get the Viking to follow your motions, to lose his focus. When you saw an opening, you dashed under his arm like a dancer, slicing a deep cut into his ribs. The Viking howled, surprised rather than hurt, even though the gash in his side looked deep and bled profusely. He barely even blinked - stoic as they come, he spinned around to face you, his sword narrowly missing your neck. You dived down just in time, using your position and your blade to slash his thighs open.

The roar that escaped his lips was raw, angrier this time. Still on his feet - how, in God’s name, did he manage to stay upright after that?! - he bolted in your direction, his sword clattering to the ground. His massive shoulders crashed into your chest, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Both of you fell back, the Viking’s body pressed tightly to yours, pinning you to the ground. It took you a while to gather your spirits - you hit your head hard enough against the frozen ground to see stars. When your eyes were able to focus again, you zeroed in on your enemy’s face as he hovered over you, shifting his weight to his hands, pressed into the ground on each side of your head. Bare inches separating your faces now, you stared into his cerulean eyes, watching you with... amusement?

You frowned, wincing at the throbbing in the back of your head, and when you looked back up at him again, you found that the Viking on top of you hadn’t moved, mirroring your expression. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d think... 

Was he concerned about you now?!

You must have hit your head harder than you thought. 

Biting your lip so hard it hurt, you chucked your head forward, your forehead landing on the Viking’s nose. He hissed in pain, rolling off you - the weight of him gone, you suddenly felt naked, his warmth leaving nothing behind.

Scrambling back on your feet as fast as you could manage, you picked up a sword from the ground - too hefty and too long for your liking, engraved with the Norse symbols. Realizing you’ve picked up his sword and not finding the strength to care anymore, you searched for the bear-like man with cerulean eyes, knowing you had to finish the job. Knowing it was either you or him. 

He didn’t go far. He stood right there, weaponless, that amused look back on his face, topped by a growing smile on his thin lips as he gazed at you.

This was your chance.

Using both hands to hold his heavy sword above your head, you could already see its blade bury itself in his shoulder, cut through his chest... When suddenly a sharp pain shot through you, forcing you to cry out. 

The handle of the sword slipped from your grip as you stared wide-eyed at the arrowhead, sticking out your chest just below your right collarbone. 

Dark droplets dripped from the tip and onto the ground, warmth spreading across your torso, as your clothes slowly soaked up the blood. Your vision blurred as you threw a lost glance over your shoulder, noticing a Viking in a chariot still holding his bow. 

Silence fell upon the battlefield - thick and leaden, save for the sound of your blood falling onto the ground; there was a certain rhythm to it that felt like a countdown. 

The loud and lonely cheer that reached your ears from behind had an almost ceremonial quality to it. You didn’t have to turn around this time to know it came from the archer. A hushed and indecisive murmur rolled over the crowd, when your eyes flicked back to your enemy, the bear-like Viking you’d almost killed.

His cerulean eyes sparkled in the light of the dying fires, his expression serious.

“Run,” he urged you, his voice barely a whisper. 

Your eyes growing wide, you pressed your fingers around the arrow piercing your body. Blood trickled down your hand now, leaving a burning trail in its wake, your legs already taking you away. 

The countdown over, the chase began... 

...Just when you thought you could run no more, the sight of the archer in the chariot gave you just enough of a scare to go on. Your survival instincts must have kicked back in - you ran faster now, your hectic heartbeat echoing in your ears. 

You knew where you were headed. Just like you knew there was no chance in hell you were getting out alive. Still, you reserved the right to choose the way you’d go down.

Swinging, your brother’s voice resonated in your head, a frantic sob raking your body. 

If you were to die tonight, you were sure going to take with you as many of them as you could.

Frozen lake’s surface shimmered in the stark red rays of the sun, setting on the horizon. Speeding down the hill towards thin ice, you nearly laughed in joy, relief washing over you like a final blessing. The end had never been so close before, yet you had never felt so alive. 

“Ivar!” the familiar deep voice filled the air around you, the bear-like Viking’s anger reverberating in between the trees. “No!”

You refused to look back, your eyes set on the lakeshore, so close...

And yet so far. 

Before you knew what happened, your legs gave out, pain pouring out of your throat into a hopeless scream. With your hands stretched out, you collapsed onto the ground, your blood painting the snow red. 

Biting on your lips, you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling every inch of the arrow that tore through your thigh. 

Swallowing hard, you propped your maimed body on your elbows, half-conscious, pain slowly dragging you into the darkness. The sound of the victorious hollers and general commotion slowly faded away, while your mind struggled to find something - anything - to hold on to. 

“Sleep it off, skjaldmær. And then we’ll face each other in a battle again.”

Feeling your body being lifted from the ground, you let out a moan, the end of it muffled by the armour protecting your enemy’s chest. 

Bjorn, your mind provided helpfully. The bear. The bear-like Viking. 

The thought of fighting him was not as tempting as reuniting with your brother, yet somehow… 

Somehow his promise turned out to be enough for you to live to see another day.  

[space-wizards-in-space]

Us Against The Galaxy

Armitage Hux x Reader

{wordcount} 2.4k

A/N: this is very self-indulgent because Hux got done dirty but that’s not gonna stop me from slutting around for him lmao

Summary: An Admiral in the First Order and its demoted General had always lived in a prison, just not noticing until now.

(ROS spoilers below the cut)

The entire ship shook as you sprinted down the halls to the bridge. The bridge where your general’s body came into view as you rounded the corner. You slipped onto your knees as you frantically checked him over, noticing the blaster burns in his abdomen. Your mind raced as you checked the general for a pulse. It was faint, but still there.

“Come on we have to get you out of here,” The ship shook again as you looped your arms under his own, dragging his dead weight down the debris ridden halls. You could feel the air getting hotter as you approached a fire. You pulled as hard as you could to get to the escape pods, the whole ship beginning to be more at an incline. That couldn’t be good. You tried to speed up your pace but as a simple admiral, you didn't receive that training to build your strength as the troopers did. Now, you were only fueled by pure adrenaline and the need to survive, because within minutes this ship was going down and taking you and the General with it.

“Come on!” You heaved out, pulling with all your strength as the new incline grew. The pods were in view, but your time was running out. The loud croaking of the ship’s durasteel bending and popping grew louder and you felt the tears of fear and frustration begin to spring into your eyes. You managed to push Hux into a pod and grabbed onto the edge of it as the ship suddenly tipped, sending debris and droids past you. You tried to pull yourself up, yelling in frustration as your grip began to slip. You didn't care if you got in at this point, you just needed that pod to leave, or else all this work would have been for nothing.

You strained as your muscles ached for rest but in letting go, you’d be sent down the hall that was not vertical as the ship began to plunge. Suddenly a pair of arms from inside the pod reached and grabbed your own, pulling you upwards. You didn’t have enough time to acknowledge your saviour as you could finally get enough grip to hoist yourself in, reaching for the pod to eject itself. The doors quickly hissed shut and you were roughly thrown into the wall as the pod thrust itself outward and you watched as the burning Star Destroyers you once lived and worked on became smaller and smaller until you left the battle, and the planet completely. The only thing now visible was the small speck of fire of the Empire you watched rise, and you were now watching burn to the ground.

“I used to care so much…” A voice croaked from behind you, causing you to draw your attention to the reason you were even here. Hux. He was sitting on the floor of the small vessel, head resting on the wall behind him as his gaze was also on the firey battle from the viewport of the pod. You quickly scooted over him to survey his injuries. You were no doctor, but he had indeed been shot.

“You need bacta.” You stated and quickly found a med-pack, opening it and taking out the stims, bandages, and bacta canisters in it. “I need to take off your shirt.” You stated sternly as you turned back to Hux. He sat there, looking at you as he took in shallow breaths.

“I can handle myself.” He snapped weakly and furrowed his brows. Stubborn as ever. He was Hux after all.

“This is not about handling yourself,” You stated as you unbuttoned it anyway, knowing he was just too weak to protest. “You will die if you don’t let me do this.” You pulled up his undershirt to reveal a layer of a plastoid chest plate that had been charred through. No wonder he survived. You huffed out a laugh in disbelief, but you missed Armitage’s own rare half-smile at his own resourcefulness. He always planned ahead.

You sprayed bacta on the wound and he hissed at the sudden cold and wet feeling on his skin, his hand instinctively going to grip your sleeve. You glanced up to him, the short second of eye contact very much like the looks you would exchange at work on the bridge. That look of comradery and awareness.

Weeks ago, he spilt the information to you. That he was the leak. You knew he originally wasn’t planning to, but now you’re glad he did.

“Don’t you see, (Y/N)?” Hux looked unkept, unusual for him. “It’s me. I’m the leak!” Your heart skipped and you froze. It all made sense now, and with Armitage practically falling apart in front of you, your heart broke for him. Your silence began to make him nervous as he looked at you with a hopeless expression. “Please… say something.” You opened your mouth and then closed it. Your heartbeat rapidly in your chest as you processed the information.

“Armitage…” You began quietly. “When I was a child I dreamed of fighting for peace and justice and… and order…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt the lump in your throat grow. You stepped towards the man and you shook your head. “I envied what the Empire built and had wrongfully taken away. When the First Order established itself as the new Empire, it didn’t feel right. No matter how much I tried to convince myself, I knew that this was not the Empire. It will never be the Empire.” Armitage straightened up at this, his red-rimmed eyes and unusually unkempt hair making him look rather mad. “I didn’t understand before. But now I do. And now I refused to sit idly by as what we helped build is overrun by children wanting to play a game of war out of spite.” You gritted your teeth. “The First Order…” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head before you look to Armitage, who’s now closer to you than before. “It died long ago. I think it’s time we let it die for good.” Saying the words out loud made everything all the more real, your eyes dripping with hot tears. You weren’t sure if they were of anger or frustration or sadness. The silence in the room hung for too long as you watched Armitage’s face contort from one of confusion, into realisation, into relief. You were always someone he trusted since the academy. You grew up together, drifting apart in your adult years until more recently when the two of you were stationed together, Hux being demoted and tossed about like a rag doll, and you being constantly pushed aside and dismissed.

The look of understanding was there, and as he stood only a foot or two away, you realised that it was now the two of you against the Galaxy. No one was on your side except each other. In a way, you were okay with that, just knowing it was Armitage, and he never said it, but the feeling was mutual. It felt nice to put his trust in someone, although it took some work to get to the point where the two of you were. Vulnerable and teary-eyed, standing in front of each other with the knowledge that your lives are going to change soon, and they’ll never be the same.

“Armitage,” You spoke softly now as you stepped forward and placed a bare hand on his cheek. He leaned slightly into the touch and you smiled sadly. “There is no way we can stay and survive,” Your face grew serious. “We have to leave.”

He gently grabbed your hand, furrowing his brows as he played with your fingers.

“This is a life we can’t run from. It’d only be a matter of time before we are found and captured.”

“Then let’s make the most of the freedom we have while we have it.” You looked to him, just now realising how close you were, your faces mere inches from each other, but you continued to search his eyes, seeing the conflict in his gaze. “Tij…” You whispered. His lips pressed into a thin line and he began to back off. Your heart fell as he let go of your hand, shaking his head.

“You’re asking me to leave all I have worked for.”

“For your own safety- Armitage they’ll kill you!” He paused, a silence falling over the room before he spoke again.

“And only then will I truly be free.”

You finished wrapping the bandages and looked up to see Hux’s gaze on you. You pointed outside a viewport of a shuttle, a look of fear on your face.

“Maker, it’s Kylo Ren!” You exclaimed and watched as he followed your gaze out the viewport and quickly injected him with a stim, causing him to whine.

“That was unnecessary.” He grumbled.

“Yeah but the fact that you fell for it was the true pay-off.” You pulled his shirt back down and began to button his thick black tunic, but his hand stopped you. You looked up to him and saw the look of apprehension on his face, the furrowed brows and tight lip, you knew it well. But he looked down to his uniform and threw off the belt and the coat with it. He gently grabbed at the sleeve of your own uniform, rubbing the rank that you once wore so proudly, but now meant nothing.

“We won’t be needing these… anymore.” He spoke softly, the loss evident in his voice. You simply nodded and took off your leather gloves and your jacket, throwing it in the same corner where Hux’s own uniform resided. Now only wearing a black long sleeve undershirt, you undid your normally pristine hair, letting it down from its tight low bun.

You sighed, moving slowly to sit next to where Hux leaned. He started to regain colour in his face, proof the bacta was working. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you…” You mumbled. “You saved my life back there.” He laughed. It was short but still appreciated as you know the sound was hard to come by.

“You dragged me from the bridge through a burning ship to an escape pod, got us both out of here, dressed my almost fatal wound, and I am the one to thank?”

You shook your head. “Let’s just settle on a team effort.” You softly spoke and a comfortable silence fell through the cabin. You stood, your muscles aching from their earlier strain but you persisted to the navigation pad. “So… where to?” You looked through the map, the holo expanding in front of you, picturing hundreds of destinations from the outer rim to the core worlds.

“For the love of god, somewhere quiet, please,” Hux said dramatically and you huffed out a laugh.

“How about Lah’mu?” You read.

“Never heard of it.” He mumbled.

“I’d take that as a good thing.” You set a course for the aforementioned planet and the thrusters boost, the computers calculating a route to a hyperspeed lane, until then, you sat once again with Hux. The silence was comfortable, and you were tired. Your head slowly dropped to his shoulder and you felt the man tense, but it just made you smile.

After a while, he relaxed completely, but you had long since fallen asleep. Hux’s own head found its way to rest on top of yours as he slowly laced his fingers with yours. It was nice to feel contact that wasn’t aggressive and angry. It was refreshing.

The two of you were awoken to the pod roughly landing, you jumping as your hand once connected to Hux’s flew to your blaster out of instinct. Armitage winced, mostly from his injuries but to say the loss of your warmth didn’t affect him would be a blatant lie. The doors of the pod automatically opened and you were greeted with cold, damp air. Your confusion quickly wore off as you helped Armitage to his feet slowly, slinging his arm around you as you limped out, stepping onto the tall grass of the field you happened to land in.

You hadn’t felt grass in so long.

The tears didn’t take long to make their way to your eyes, a wide smile pulling at your lips. You wanted to run and jump around, cheering and hollering, but all you could do was slowly walk and look out to the rolling hills and grassy fields.

You turned back to Armitage and saw something you could never say you had seen before on his face.

Hope.

And his gaze wasn’t out on the land before him. It was on you.

You walked slowly to him using the pod to support his weight.

“So, what do you think?” You said, not even trying to contain the happiness on his face.

“This…” He nodded. “I think this is what freedom feels like.” He reached a weak hand to your face, rubbing your cheekbone as you had done for him weeks before. He took a weak step forward, limping but still standing as he rested his other hand on the other side of your face. The proximity of your faces was the same as it was before, but you had to remind yourself that there was no more danger. Nothing else to be worried about. And you were sure he was reminding himself as well. “I could get used to it.” He whispers now, his breath reaching your lips due to the short distance between the two of you, and it feels like his voice is all you can hear. His face is all you can see. And his hands are all you can feel.

You decide to close the gap first, your arms snaking up his chest as you grasp at his undershirt, pulling him as close as humanly possible.  Your lips mould together like two puzzle pieces, finishing a puzzle that took years and years to build. 

When you pulled away, which you eventually had to do, his face wasn’t grim. It was like looking at a different person than the one you knew from the First Order. His eyes were bright, and the smile on his face grew wide. You could feel the relief rolling off him in waves. His battles were over. And though, light years away, the war had just been won by the side the two of you sought to destroy for years on end, you felt nothing but victorious.

After all, it was you two against the galaxy, and you had finally come out on top.

[aaetherius]

@lucisflos​

If Grima were to come back in any way it would be her responsibility to kill him somehow she knew the crew would help out not that she wouldn’t appreciate it she just doesn’t want any of them to get hurt but they were stubborn they wouldn’t let her fight the fell dragon alone that goes for Lucifer if anything he and sandalophon would also step in.She smiled saw him sitting on the deck alone looking at the sky she took a seat beside him and looked up at the blue vastness of wonder that it held.”Lucifer if I were to fight an old enemy from my homeland and past you wouldn’t let me go at it alone would you.” Her hands were shaken to be honest Grima still terrifies her that her nightmares of him haunted her at night making hard to sleep.

unprompted || Always Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!

                                                          ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

       A soft breeze licked at white locks and the scarlet ribbon tied loosely about his shoulders as he sat upon the deck of the Grandcypher. Deep, azure eyes gazing upwards at the night sky stretching out overhead. It’s color a deep navy that faded out into an endless ebony expanse where it loomed over the translucent sails of the ship. Countless stars shimmered against the dark backdrop, almost glowing in the silver kiss of the bright moon that lingered just behind them. And he could name each one of them from little more than his memory alone. Every constellation more a friend to him than a stranger where they were burned into his mind. He had once spent Millennia guarding these very skies. He knew them more intimately and deeply than most could ever hope to, and, yet, there were times when they felt distant to even him. Times like now, as he sat beneath them as the wind gingerly caressed golden-trimmed armor and tickled long lashes - like a warning shot fired in the dark at a threat he is unaware of, where stars glared down at him as if he was little more than yet another faceless stranger to them rather than the sword and shield that had once protected them from harm. And, perhaps, he is worthy of such treatment when he knows he’s failed them time and time again. He is little more than a shell of what he had once been - spurred on by the faintest embers of his original power that had once been contained within shimmering feathers, but he will continue to love these skies as deeply and feverishly as he always had. 

      And, perhaps, that will be enough. Perhaps this time he won’t fail. The thought festers in his mind for a moment before it is chased off by the sound of boots tapped against wood. He tilts his head back slightly, smile gracing pale, pink lips as he spots dark, blue hair billowing in the breeze. But the expression she wears is grim and unlike the soft smiles he’s grown used to. It makes his own falter for a moment, concern bubbling up in the form of furrowed brows and wide eyes that are as vast and unyielding as the skies they seem to harbor within their depths. “Lucina,” he begins, but allows unspoken question to die upon his tongue as she moves to join him - her own gaze lifting to look out towards the stars. He can’t chase the worry from his features or tear his own gaze away from her. He supposes all mortals have troubles - not like himself and the Primarchs, but he is unused to seeing her in such a manner and can only offer her an ear as she begins to speak. 

        “I would not,” he answers both swiftly and with great ease. Perhaps he would not be of much aid as he is now, but he has learned more than he could have ever imagined from the Skydwellers since his revival. Lucina, as he’s come to understand, is a friend. And he has failed far too many who are dear to him to remain idle once again if she is placed in harm’s way. Even with his meager power, he has vowed, this time, to never again play the role of a mere observer. No, this time he won’t allow regret and grief to muddy his core and taint all of the hard work that had gone into dragging his soul back from the depths of that lonely realm. He owed this crew and Sandalphon that much and so much more. An ember may be ghost of the inferno that had once been his to command and wield as he had pleased, but an ember was the spark of something more. Weak as it was, it wasn’t nothing. And so long as it remains as something, he would continue to fight for those around him. Perhaps he could no longer defend the skies, but he could, at least, defend the people he had met beneath them.       

       So, his expression softens. Smile tugging, once again, at the very edges of his lips. In faint glow cast by the moon, he could tell her hands were shaking. “You have nothing to fear, should you ever need to face such an enemy again, I will stand beside you, and I am certain the rest of the crew will, as well.” He reaches out to settle a steady palm over the backs of her hands in an attempt to ease her worries. His own skin warm and soft; devoid of the thick callouses and ugly scars that had once marred his hands from too many wars raged on his own. Their phantoms remain, of course, embedded deep within his core and linger upon freshly crafted skin that doesn’t know the hardship of endless battles just yet. “Together, I believe, we will be able to defeat what may come.” He doesn’t know, of course. He can’t know, but the Singularity and their crew had once saved Sandalphon, surely, then, they could do the same for her, as well.     

[gabriel4sam]

Three conversations Obi-Wan had after the Death Star

Obi-Wan survives Vader and tries to take care of three young souls.

 Under the cut, a little fic written for @kenobi-gen-exchange, beta by the awesome @wrennette

Leia had entered the Death Star like she was descending into her own mausoleum. In her exhausted mind, it was fitting, in a way. The monstrous contraption which had destroyed Scarif would be her last step before the grave.

Then, there had been a too short Stormtrooper, a walking carpet, and a sarcastic rogue. There had been shots fired, and a garbage chute, and hope had reignited, like a spark starting a bonfire. The plans, the plans of that monstrosity were the best chance the rebellion had and now, she could deliver them…if they escaped.

Now, around them, the TIE fighters bark a deluge of fire, like a pack of small, savage beasts tearing at the throat of a larger animal.

Trying to tear apart, in fact, because the ship of Han Solo has teeth and he and Luke are sitting at the turrets, fighting back. Sitting in the cockpit, Leia watches, her heart in her throat. If they die in this battle, the death of Alderaan will be in vain. She wants to live, with a lust for life she thought lost when she saw her planet explode.

She wants to live, to avenge Alderaan, to tear the Empire apart. A cold shiver runs along her spine, changing her blood into ice in a wave of unknown fury, more dangerous for the calm that surrounds its core. She could murder, in that state of mind. She thirsts for the blood of Tarkin, of Vader; for their pain, to see them lose everything they hold dear, and make them watch, just like they made her. Just as a part of her recognizes, distantly, that her control of her emotions is better than that, normally, that she was raised better than that, warmth engulfs her and the ice recedes. General Kenobi has put his cloak around her shoulders.

“We will live today,” Kenobi says simply, “to rebuild,” and Leia wants to tell him she wants blood, revenge, she wants to throw away her principles to see Vader and Tarkin burn, but their gazes meet, and in the calm blue of his eyes, she sees a bottomless grief, like she carries in her heart.

“My father was happy, at the thought of seeing you again,” She says instead, and Kenobi smiles, old and kind and nothing like the brilliant, headstrong general of the stories, but his arm around her shoulders feels like an anchor, strong and sheltering, like a port in a storm.

“Sadly,” he says, “I know a little about losing my people. I won’t lie and say it will be alright.”

“You’re not very comforting.”

“But I will say this: it will get better, and an objective helps. A mission.”

“What was yours? When you escaped after the war?”

“Well, you and young Luke, of course. Luke, more specifically, but you were never far away from my mind.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes. Of course, you don’t know. We always said we would tell you together, and dear Bail and Breha were people of their word. Oh dear…. The Death Star, first, then we need to have an overdue conversation.”

She wants to pursue this conversation but he pats her hand:

“Allow an old man, whose mind is not as sharp as it used to be, a moment to gather his thoughts.”

“You can’t be serious! It seems like …like you said… Luke,” Leia whines, tumbling head first into a maelstrom of emotions, forgetting every notion of protocol ever drilled, with great difficulty, into her stubborn head, and General Kenobi’s mouth twitches.

In all his stories, her father never told how infuriating the man could be!

 **********************************

 The Death Star is dust, and Han’s head, which was only sought by Jabba, the thrice damned slug, and two or three exes with a grudge, will very probably be on every bounty hunter in the galaxy’s list in the days to come.

And yes, the Imperials.

That pesky problem of every Imperial who will now want him dead for helping the Rebels. Oh joy.

What was he thinking! He hadn’t even been drunk!!

On the edge of Yavin’s base, as the Rebels are packing up with military efficiency, despite an impressive collection of impressive hangovers, Han’s mounting worries look every minute more like full-blown panic, until a shuffling gait draws his attention.

Han isn’t a naïve farmer like Luke. He understands why the old man, whose steps were surer than the most limber Imperial spy on the Death Star, suddenly makes the same noise as a Gungan on dry soil. Kenobi smiles, light, self-deprecating, and Han glares harder. Despite himself, Han feels the poor, innocent, totally not dangerous, definitely can’t kill people with my mind, old man act works, as it had on Tatooine. It’s exasperating, especially since Han is old enough to remember Jedi shenanigans on the holo news. It shouldn’t work on him.

Kenobi sits next to him, and together, they watch the Rebels bundle up machines, explosives, parts, and sometimes a droid who doesn’t escape them quick enough, which spawns a quarter hour of comedy, as R2-D2 rescues his counterpart with violence Han didn’t expect of an astromech .

“Luke and Leia are very young,” Kenobi finally says.

“Hm, hmm,” Han answers. There. Totally not incriminating. He’s capable of learning, no matter what Chewie growls about his head and its contents.

“The crisis is reaching its boiling point,” the old man continues, not deterred.

“Long time coming,” Han can’t stop himself from adding.

“And they would certainly benefit from some guidance,” Kenobi half-smiles.

“They have the whole Rebel crew,” Han immediately says, “and also, aren’t you supposed to be subtle? Negotiator and all that.”

“I didn’t think you would appreciate being manipulated,” Kenobi remarks, and despite himself Han feels it working, that undisguised demand. Manipulated, yeah, he would hate that, especially from the man who is supposed to take care of Luke and Leia.

Those two will be trouble, he’s sure of it.

More trouble than the Death Star, even.

Oh, by the kriffin stars, they’re gonna get killed like two idiots. Luke has no survival instinct, and Leia isn’t much better, and he had only known them for a few days, he’s sure they can do worse than what already made him sweat. And Han isn’t touching on the hypocrisies of his opinion, coming back to protect Luke against Vader or not.

“Are you manipulating me by pretending you don’t want to manipulate me?” He asks, his glare making a fiery comeback.

The old man smiles.

“Snake,” Han grumbles, and apparently Kenobi takes it as a compliment, because his smile, from old and benign, turns mischievous. But it’s a smile which invites Han to share its joy, not a smile at Han’s expense, but a smile with Han, and despite himself, Han answers it with his own.

**************************

Luke is helping prep the Y-Wings for the flight to their rendezvous point, since all the X-Wings are ready. Working helped. Working, he understands. Flight engines don’t suddenly sprout family members. They don’t lie for years, pretending to be the more or less harmless and slightly touched in the head friendly neighbourhood hermit, when they are in reality space monks turned bodyguards for secret children of long-ago murdered friends. And also, perhaps he wouldn’t have needed a secret bodyguard, if he had raised under a false name, like Leia!

Oh Force, like his sister Leia….

Leia isn’t as angry as himself about their long hidden brotherhood, but he suspects that’s because the trauma of Alderaan and the necessary work for the Rebel Alliance are taking precedence.

Give it a little time. He’s pretty sure the spine of iron he already found in her is matched by a temper of much more volatile components.

Luke feels Ben entering the hangar. Every minute almost, the Force opens him a little more to sensations he doesn’t understand. It’s like an avalanche, and Ben explained it’s because Leia and him are working together, that it would be much harder if one of them tried to do it alone.

It’s terrifying.

It’s comforting.

It’s like a promise he will never be alone, as he can feel the nervous energy of every Rebel, and Ben and Leia more closely, the old man a point of light like a flame in the night, and Leia more turbulent, like a slash-and-burn fire, destructive perhaps but with a promise of more life reborn from the blaze.

It’s comforting, but when he’s angry with Ben, it’s a little inconvenient to feel themselves linked together like that.

“Came to tell me about more long lost family members?”

There is like a ping in the Force, almost a bell sound and Luke wouldn’t have understood, days before. Now he throws his wrench on the floor, unconcerned with their audience.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!! Ben!!”

“Luke, this isn’t –“

“No, not, let me guess, it’s a triplet. And it’s Han! Or better, Chewie!”

“Luke!”

The young man turns and on the old Jedi’s face, he sees what he didn’t feel in the Force, untrained and nascent, no matter his powers. On Ben’s face, he sees despair, worn like a twenty-year old wound, and still bleeding.

“Ben?” Luke asks, and suddenly he’s nine years old again and Ben just conveniently found him lost in the desert; he’s thirteen years old and Ben just conveniently rescued him from a slaver’s ship that wanted to fatten its pockets before leaving the planet; he’s fifteen years old and Ben just happened to pass the canyon where he was cornered by a Tusken raid.

Now that he thinks about it, he should have understood some things much sooner.

“Luke,” Ben says, and he stops. Luke puts his two hands on the hermit’s shoulders.

“I’m there,” he tries to reassure.

“Luke, there is something I haven’t told you and Leia, but it’s so terrible, I haven’t said it since the day I told it to Owen and Beru and I’m not sure I have the strength…”

“It will be okay,” Luke says, “you know it will. You’ll rely on us and it will be okay. You’re not alone.”

And if Ben’s eyes are perhaps wet, Luke doesn’t say it. A little awkward, he goes for a hug.

No matter what, they are not alone. Not one of them. The rest of the Rebels have made themselves scarce, but he suddenly feels Leia, at the other end of the hangar. She felt something like off and came to them. Behind her, Han is ranting, not aware yet of the current of tension between the three Force users.

Luke thinks of a little hut in the middle of the desert. He thinks about Owen and Beru, and Bail and Breha who he will never know.

“No one of us are alone,” Luke says with conviction and he knows, with certainty well beyond simple instinct, how true it will always be.

[ashmeytmblr]

First attempt at Fanfic writing

I’d greatly appreciate any constructive criticism or criticism in general and some possible suggestions as to where the story would go next!

Star Wars: The Survivors

Chapter 1: The Encounter

Corellia, 32 BBY. 3 standard months following the Invasion of Naboo.

From afar, the megapolis of Coronet City was a sight to behold. Airspeeders appeared as nothing more than blurs of light, traveling in all directions as if they were a puzzle even the greatest minds could not solve. Hulls of unfinished ships transported upon mobile construction walkers the enormity of which could rival even the greatest skyscrapers of the city. The network of roads by which resources were transported and the alleyways that made up the vast urban scape could only be described as a maze by which only those born into it could navigate. 

Corellia was a planet rich with history. Over the tens of thousands of millennia, the planet had witnessed the rise and fall of the Rakatan Infinite Empire, the Eternal Empire, and the Sith Empire. All of whom conquered Corellia in their ancient eras. Having garnered the influence of these extinct civilizations; along with the mass migration to the core world from all sectors of the galaxy, Corellia became one of the most multicultural planets in the Core Worlds. This all changed when the Corellian Engineering Corporation rose.

Less than half a millennia ago, driven by innovation, a small, independent business grew to rival even the greatest starship manufacturers of the age. It presented revolutionary ship designs that allowed for great customization and modification. A concept that had never before been seen. This appealed to anyone, from the most cunning of smugglers to the highest of aristocrats. Though this success was tremendous for the executives and shareholders of the company, the same could not be said for the rest of the populous. 

The Corellian Engineering Corporation gained a near-complete monopoly over the planet’s economy, causing many competitors to either go bankrupt or to be absorbed into the company. With this financial control over the planet and the constant increase in consumer demand, a majority of the population was forced into hard labor. Many received dirt-poor wages, many were crippled or killed while operating hazardous machinery, but the Corellian Government spared no attention. They were controlled by the Corporation after all. 

Kana Shan reflected upon this history as her awe towards Coronet City faded, replaced by the realization of the hell the city truly was. “Come, Kana, we have landed.” her master softly spoke through his comlink. She tied up her long black hair, though it still went down to her waist, and punctually made her way to the ramp of The Implier, a Consular-Class Cruiser and a model commonly used by the republic for important missions. Meeting the old Thisspisian at the bottom of the ramp. “Admiring the sights?” He inquired, gesturing to the vast skyscrapers. “I was,” she paused, “until this,” she pointed towards the oil-stained slums. “Well, I had a similar reaction upon my first visit to Coronet,” he chuckled. They adorned their grey ponchos and broke into a smooth stride, they had an investigation to complete. 

***

Careful to avoid deadly electrocution, Daran reattached the broken cable and sealed it with great care. He squirmed his way out of the tunnel-like space behind the cockpit of a yet-to-be-completed CR-20 Troop Carrier, meeting his boss, who towered above him. 

Child laborers were a rare sight on Corellia, the CEC had minimal obedience and surveillance towards Republic laws and jurisdictions, but seeing a child as young as four years of age working in shipbuilding was unheard of. Daran C’abbath was a rare exception to this belief. Ever since his parents had been blown up by the faulty reactor of a VCX-100 they were repairing 2 years ago, Daran had inherited their debt and was put to work.

Despite the boy’s youth, he was one of the best electricians of the factory, able to pinpoint precise mechanical and electric flaws and repair them in minutes, using his small size to squeeze into tight spaces to make repairs which stubborn Ugnaughts and Ardennians refused to do. This skill was only honed to great effect when it was realized by his boss and guardian, Uinter. A shrewd and cunning 2.4-meter Besalisk construction manager with decades of experience and an eye for efficiency and profit. He had once been best friends with Daran’s father and had cared for him after his father’s passing, however, that did not stop him from teaching the child everything he knew and employing him in repair and construction. 

“Nice goin’ there Sab,” the hulking Besalisk said as he patted Daran on the back, almost knocking him over, “now, tell me kid, how ‘dya know somethin’ was wrong with ‘ose cables?” He asked, a sense of determination in his booming, rusty voice. “Why d’ya keep askin’ me?” Daran asked, “I keep tellin’ ya’ that I don’t know how to describe it to ya’. I just hear ‘em, when there’s something not right about the electrical noises,'' He said, confusing himself. “Arrrrgh! I’ll get it outta ya’ one day!”, Uinter chuckled, ruffling up Daran’s knotty brown hair with one of his leathery, giant hands. 

The youngster batted his toughened hand away with a grin. “‘Ey, ‘cus I made that amazing repair,” Daran said smugly, “why don’ I get the rest o’ the day off, ‘cus, ya’ know-”. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Uinter interrupted, “you earn’d it, kid”. “Thanks!” Daran immediately replied, excitedly racing out of the construction zone before Uinter changed his mind. 

As soon as he left the area, he slowed down to a walk. Inspecting the run-down slums and workers around him, he spotted a moving crowd not too far ahead. The clustered crowd was made up of locals and travelers alike. He realized the market was open. “Perfect,” he muttered to himself. The market was one of many in Coronet City, though this one was of no notoriety. Selling a variety of different things from Corellian apples to large corvettes, anyone who could get through the twisting maze of tents and stalls could find what they needed there. Right now, Daran needed only one thing, his stomach rumbled as he entered the packed crowd in search of something to eat.

He weaved his way through the crown, careful not to be stomped by an careless Anx. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to get a good view of the stalls because of his height, he spotted a large durasteel antenna rod jotting out of the ground near the center of the crowd. Once a small clearing in the crowd opened, he ran to the rod and gripped it tightly. He clambered up the pole with great speed, realizing it was not so different from the ones he often had to climb in the factory.

With a full view of the marketplace, he scanned the area and found exactly what he needed. A few stalls ahead was a small stall selling Corellian apples piled neatly in a pyramid tower. He slid down the pole and slipped through the crowd until he was only a few leaps from the stall. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the pyramid of apples blocked the Sullustan store owner’s view of the bottom of the stall.

After waiting a few minutes for a customer to arrive, the Sullustan became distracted by a picky Ithorian, holding an apple in his long fingers pointing to a dark patch on the apple. “Bingo,” Daran muttered under his breath. He snuck up to the stall, crouching behind the stall, where the Sullustan couldn’t see him. Looking up at the pyramid, he noticed an apple had fallen from the pyramid. This was his chance. He reached for the apple, snatching it from the stall with lightning speed. He wasn’t fast enough. A greasy, stained hand was gripped firmly around his right arm. “Where d’ya think yer’ goin’ with that ya’ lil’ wonat,” the barrel-chested Sullustan furiously spat in a gurgly voice, “giv’ it back and I’ll let ya’ keep yer’ arm. Jus’ this once”. Thinking on his feet, Daran scooped a chunk of mud from the ground and hurled it into the Sullustan’s sensitive eyes. The Sullustan growled in pain, releasing Daran from his tight grip to wipe the muck from his eyes. 

Daran sprinted as fast as he could. “Guess you’ll ‘ave to take my arm then!” He yelled back, taunting the store owner. As he ran, he stuffed the apple into the inner pocket of his jacket. Not paying attention to the path in front of him, he tripped over and fell flat on his face. He stood up quickly, brushing the mud from his face, trousers, shirt, and jacket. Turning around, he met the gaze of a surprised Thisspiasian and an equally surprised Human, both wearing matching grey ponchos. Realizing he had tripped over the tail of the old Thispiassian. He was about to say sorry when the Sullustan caught up to him and grabbed his right arm up once again, a vibroblade gripped in his free hand. “I tried bein’ the nice guy t’ya’,” The Sullustan growled, “enjoy the rest o’ya’ stinkin’ life without yer’ right arm!” He bellowed. The Sullustan brought the blade down on his arm. Daran flinched, waiting for the pain. It didn’t come.

Oppo Rancisis gripped the Sullustan’s portly wrist with one of his long, taloned hands. “Now, my good salesman,” he spoke in a formal tone, “is there any justifiable reason to bring great harm to this young soul?” He inquired, stroking his beard. “Well…” the Sullustan began, “he stole the apple from me’ store… uh… the kid needs ta’ learn his less-”. “Perhaps this ordeal could be solved with a more peaceful compromise?” Rancisis interjected, “If I were to pay for the stolen produce, could you put this pursuit to rest?” He inquired once again. “... uh… yeah,” the Sullustan said, baffled. “Very well then,” Rancisis replied. He tossed a credit chip above the Sullustan’s head. The Sullustan sheathed his knife away and fumbled for the singular credit. “Master-”, his apprentice began. He shot her a glare and she quickly silenced. “Will that suffice?” He queried. “Yeah, that'll be jus’ enough,” the Sullustan sneered as he walked back to his stall to tend to the lingering Ithorian. “Are you alright my boy?” Rancisis asked the human child. “Yeah, I’m all good,” the boy replied, “sorry for trippin’ over ya’”. “It’s perfectly fine,” he assured the boy. “It occurs more than you would expect.” He chuckled, whisking his tail. “Come, Kana, we must continue,” he instructed his apprentice, and the two began to move. 

Daran stood still in shock for a moment before slipping through the crowd and out of the marketplace, back into the dusty slum area, a vast part of the city made up of warehouse-like stack houses, often referred to as slats, cobbled together with rusting metal and makeshift ladders. Thinking about the luck of what had just happened, he chewed into the apple, throwing the core behind him. Realizing it was getting dark, he walked through the area with caution before making it to his own slat. He opened the door to the flat, careful not to creak the door and risk waking his slatmates. Like the factory, Daran was by far the youngest in the slat. The second youngest was a 16-year-old Nautolan known as Brim, but even he could pass as an adult, so Daran rarely spoke to him. He quietly climbed into his over-sized bed, falling asleep only a few minutes after shutting his eyes.

“Why did you refer to me as ‘master’ directly in the presence of the locals?” Oppo Rancisis inquired. “I instructed you to refer to me as Rancisis in the presence of locals''. “I’m sorry, master,” Kana replied, a look of embarrassment on her face. “I said it out of habit. I just wonder why you decided to help that boy”. “I saw that the boy created a particularly violent ordeal for himself. Had I left the Sullustan to amputate the Boy’s arm, he would’ve likely bled out or died due to infection. I, nor anyone else, should have stood idly by and allow for such an act to occur,” he explained to her, “besides, I assume neither the Sullustan nor the Boy are in collusion with The Rise. So they will not learn of our investigation yet,” he reassured her.  “I hope that was the case,” Kana nervously replied. “But even after a day of enquiring, we still haven’t found Semt or his group of… terrorists!”. “Calm yourself, Kana,” her master reassured her, “you’re right, we have been inquiring for a day, but only a day. It could possibly be weeks before we uncover the location of their hideout. However, we must not give up. An attempt against Senator Iblis’s life is a serious matter. Had The Rise succeeded in their assassination, the Senate would’ve erupted in anarchy at the news of the death of a Core World senator. I understand your anticipation towards locating these revolutionaries, I shared a similar enthusiasm to you in my youth, but we must be patient,” he explained. “Thank you for giving me a new perspective master,” Kana replied gratefully. The two wished each other a good night, exited the conference room of The Implier, and returned to their personal quarters.

***

The next day was turning out to be a rather uneventful one for Daran. He and an old Ottegan engineer finished wiring up the control panel of a CR90. He left the construction platform, sliding down the pole that connected it to the ground level of the factory, turning around to quickly admire the factory block. A gigantic warehouse structure tens of stories high, filled with thousands of rusted construction platforms surrounding all manner of incomplete ship models produced by the CEC. He walked through the forest of poles connecting the thousands of platforms to the ground, welding sparks flying at random around him, finding Uinter in his office. It was a small enclosed block near the entrance of the factory. “‘Ey, me an’ the Otto jus’ finished wirin’ the CR90,” he said. Looking up from his datapad and sitting up in his giant swiveling chair, Uinter smiled. “Well that def’nitely didn’ take ya’ long, did it!” he said, impressed with his speed, “well, lucky for ya’, there’s some boys who need a lil’ help up back. They’re sayin’ somethin’s gone wrong with the cablin’ of a YT-1300. Go and giv’ em’ a hand why don’t ya’,” he told Daran. “Sure thing,” Daran replied. He left the small block and approached the maze of poles. As he was about to slip through it, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Entering Uinter’s office was the same Thisspiasian and Human he saw yesterday in the marketplace.

“Rancisis, are you sure this construction manager is going to know anything?” Kana asked. “It is a possibility that he may not know anything. However, we must inquire to the greatest extent of our abilities. Remember, these businessmen are not above selling information,” her master told her. The two entered the manager’s office. From the information they were provided by locals, he was a Besalisk and a giant for his species known as Uinter who had connections to almost everyone in Coronet, Kana felt as though it was a little too good to be true and folded her arms in discomfort. “Greetings manager, my name is Quis Sapeins and this is my associate, Lucet,” Rancisis gestured to her, “we are representatives of the Galactic Republic seeking intel regarding a possible purchase of this particular facility”. “Heh, ya’ almost had me there,” the Besalisk chuckled, “too bad yer’ apprentice ‘ere can’t ‘elp but flash her lightsaber for everyone to see”, he pointed directly at her lightsaber. Startled, Kana quickly dropped her arms to her sides, covering her lightsaber. “Why’re ya’ really ‘ere, Jedi,” he smirked. “Very well,” Rancisis began, “my apprentice and I are here on an investigation into the location of The Rise and their leader, Semt. If you can provide any information regarding their whereabouts, the Republic will pay you a great sum in return,” the Thisspiasian elucidated. “The Rise, ‘ey. Well, I ‘ave a lil’ info about-”. “Master, I sense someone is watching us,” Kana interrupted, turning to see a cloaked figure from afar dropping a pair of macrobinoculars and running from their position atop a complex of slums. Without saying a word the two exited the office and gave chase to the cloaked figure.

Daran saw the Thisspiasian and the Human bolt out of Uinter’s office. He was gripped by a sudden urge to follow them. No. I shouldn’t, he thought to himself. But before he knew it, he was already following them. Barely keeping up with the two, he had no idea why he was chasing after them. But he felt almost forced to. He couldn’t describe it, but it was like he sensed something from them. But what?

The cloaked figure was incredibly acrobatic. Employing the use of a range of front and backflips in an attempt to distract the two Jedi. Oppo Rancisis saw past them. Based on the stamina of cloaked figure, the Jedi-like jumps it was performing, and a distinct lack of a great presence in the force, Rancisis quickly deduced that the figure was a Terrelian Jango Jumper. And a nimble one. He just had to wait for the right moment. Gesturing to Kana to slow, he saw the opportunity. Poised in his taloned hand, he threw a small flashing device with such precision it landed and attached itself to the end of the Jango Jumper’s cloak. He slowed alongside his apprentice. “Why are we slowing?” She demanded. “Because, Kana, the Figure will only lead us away from their hideout,” he explained. “What I just attached to the Figure’s cloak was a tracking device. It will think we’re no longer chasing it and return to it’s hideout. Then, we will be able to confront The Rise and bring it and Semt to justice”. “I should have assumed that,” Kana said, embarrassed. “Nonsense my young padawan, you’re only 21. You still have much to learn. I know one day you will become wiser than I. You may even reach 174 if you’re lucky,” he reassured her. “Thank you, Rancisis,” she gratefully smiled. Rancisis drew a small screen from one of the gadgets affixed to his belt and turned it on, greeted with a visual of the city and a small red dot indicating the location of the tracker. “There,” Kana noticed the dot changing direction, “now we simply follow them at a distance”. “Precisely,” Rancisis commended her, “you learn quickly”. The two followed the red dot, maintaining a distance.

Daran was almost exhausted. He was about to give up when to his luck, the two began to slow. Relieved, but tired, he halted to quickly catch his breath before moving once again as to not lose sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human. Realizing the two were headed for an alleyway, he took extra care to stay quiet so they wouldn’t notice him and followed them through the narrow path. 

The flashing dot halted, barely faltering from a block on the map. “It appears as though the figure may have arrived back at their hideout”, Rancisis observed. “We should move quickly,” Kana said. “They may be wary of our approach and preparing to ambush us”. “Very good, my young apprentice,” Rancisis replied. The two picked up pace, winding through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways, passing many individuals of all manner of species until they were directly in front of the block the dot indicated on the map. From what Kana could see, it was a small, beige warehouse; very out of the way, very bland. Perfect for a hideout. Kana turned to her master to see him place one of his large, taloned hands on the corrugated metal entrance to the warehouse. “It seems as though this entryway is designed to be misleading,” Rancisis stated. “Though in appearance, it may seem to be nothing more than a standard warehouse entry. It is, in actuality, a reinforced, durasteel door”. “I think we’ve found our hideout,” Kana smiled. “It appears so,” he replied. “Now, Kana, stand back”. She took a few steps back, realizing he was about to make use of a force technique known as shatterpoint, a rare Force ability which called upon the Force to seek out a weak point and then apply a small amount of Force pressure to collapse the recipient. It could be applied both to find a flaw within a structure or an opponent, though the latter was considerably harder to pull off as it required great concentration. Under the tutelage of the Jedi Council member, Kana had yet to fully master the practice, however, she kept training up as she knew she possessed great potential within the Force. Within a few seconds, her master successfully located a weak point within the door and it shattered like glass. The two warily entered the pitch-black room, their footsteps reverberating from the walls. The darkness didn’t fool either of them. Sensing ten individuals, blazing lights suddenly illuminated the hollow interior. At the opposing end of the warehouse, an elevated throne made of all manner of scraps of metal welded together and crudely painted black. Standing aside from the throne at both sides were nine individuals. One Ishi Tib, three Humans, four Quarren, and the Terrelian Jango Jumper in no particular order. Each of them sporting an electrostave and dark cloaks. The tenth individual, sitting atop the throne, was an Iktotchi, Semt, staring at the two with unevenly dilated pupils, partially shaking. “Welcome, my new disciples,” he said audaciously, “I wondered if you would arrive”. “Semt, what has become of you? You were once a great Jedi Knight who showed promise to become a Jedi Master,” Rancisis interjected. “I’m glad you asked, Master Rancisis,” Semt smiled eerily, “you see, not long ago I held the same ignorant values you, your apprentice, and many other Jedi held. I believed them without question, yes. But then, one fateful night, I saw it, a vision! A glimpse into the future. Oh my, what I saw,” he suddenly burst into laughter before striking himself in the temple, “the Republic, the Jedi are done for! The Order, the Temple will burn. Once more the Sith will rule the galaxy,” his breathing became exasperated, “and I will rule with them. I will prove myself. The Rise will prove itself. WE REFUSE TO DIE WITH A DOGMATIC ORGANISATION OF IGNORANT FOOLS WHO REFUSE TO SEE ONE STEP AHEAD OF THEM,” he suddenly snapped. “But why attempt to murder a senator who has no relation to the Jedi?” Kana asked. “Oh, that.” Semt began. “Well you see, that action, I assure you, will have me noticed by him, the emperor yet to rise. He will gladly accept me into his order for my action of dedication to his yet-to-rise regime. So I had one of my most loyal disciples destroy the ship, bravely sacrificing himself in the process. But it was a decoy. A DECOY!” He slammed his fist against the arm of the throne, denting the metal. “I knew the Senate would send their little Jedi on a little errand to find me. As soon as I heard rumors of an elderly Thisspiasian and a human with egregiously long hair questioning locals, I knew it must have been you two. My faithful scout, Lika, confirmed that”. He paused. “Now, my Jedi, I give you both the chance. Join me, together we shall watch as the Jedi and the Republic fall, replaced by a regime which will accept us with open arms as their most elite, devoted soldiers of the Dark Side of the Force”. He reached out a twitching hand. “Visions can be deceiving,” Rancisis countered. “They only provide a subtle glimpse into the future, even for an Iktotchi with great precognition skills. What you say may not seem as it is. To turn to acts of treachery, to turn to the Dark Side of the Force is a true tragedy. Unfortunately, I will have to stop you here. I can assure you will be trialed fairly in a-”. “FOOL! Do you not see? I SEE WHAT IS TO COME! YOU AND YOUR BRAINWASHED LITTLE PADAWAN WILL DIE WITH THE DOGMA OF THE JEDI! MY DISCIPLES, DESTROY THEM BOTH,” he screamed furiously before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.  

Having lost sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human, Daran was aimlessly wandering the maze of the alleyway. Looking and listening for any possible signs of the paths they went down, he anxiously turned from path to path, hoping to find something, anything. Realizing the panic he was working himself into, he stopped in the middle of the path. Closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, he felt something, the same feeling which compelled him to follow the two in the first place. Giving in to the feeling, he began walking again, only this time with purpose, almost as if he knew where to go. Passing by the tan buildings and hanging rags either side of him, he turned down the final path, seeing a shattered door and hearing maddening laughter. Not allowing himself to give in to the fear swelling in the back of his mind, he approached the warehouse. Carefully peering into the entrance, he was shocked by what he saw.

Four of the disciples approached Kana while five approached her master, their electrostaves poised and ready to strike. Removing his poncho to reveal his dark brown Jedi robe and his additional two arms which Thisspiasians only revealed publicly in combat. He ignited his green-bladed lightsaber, deflecting every clumsy strike the disciples swung at him before resting himself on the latter half of his serpentine tail to tower above them. Kana followed suit, unveiling a lighter, tan Jedi robe. Taking the long hilt affixed to her belt, she ignited her own lightsaber, revealing two short blades that burned a radiant orange. An extremely rare colour which reflected her reluctance to draw upon the weapon, only using it in self-defense. She reflexively twirled the weapon using her wrist, deflecting every strike except one which grazed her side, mildly burning her. Giving a small grunt, she and her master both called upon the Force, launching the nine disciples across the warehouse, each one colliding with the wall behind Semt’s throne, all of them unconscious. “No… No. NO! NO! NO!” Semt screamed. “USELESS FOOLS, ALL OF THEM.” He paused. “You think you have stopped me, Jedi?” he asked rhetorically. “I will return again, you’ll see!” He launched himself from his throne, making a beeline towards the exposed exit. However, he saw a small figure standing in the way. He bared his chipped teeth, igniting his blue-bladed lightsaber, poised to strike it down.

Mesmerized by what he just saw take place, but suddenly paralyzed by fear as the mad Iktotchi advanced towards him. “MOVE, BOY!” The Iktotchi screamed as he raised his lightsaber to strike Daran down. In an act of desperation, Daran rose his arms in front of him. He suddenly felt a surge of power, like the one that compelled him, only stronger. It felt like it rippled through his arms as it left his hands. He opened his eyes, seeing the Iktotchi sprawled on the ground ten meters into the warehouse, groaning. What did I do? Daran thought. “D-did I do that?” He asked himself. The Thisspiasian looked from the Iktotchi to Daran. “Yes, you did my boy.” He told Daran. “The Force is strong with you”. “Wha- th-the Force,” he stuttered. Daran had heard stories about the Jedi. Uinter had told him that they were a group of people, all different species, who wielded strange sword-like weapons called lightsabers and could move things by waving their hands using a power known as the Force. Did he have that power? The Human approached him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She had a kind and smiling face and appeared to be a Kuati human. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice soothing his fear. “Um… my name is Daran,” he mumbled, “wh-what about yours?”. “My name is Kana Shan, I’m a Jedi Padawan,” she said, showing her braid, the only part of her long, dark brown hair that wasn’t tied back, “and this is my Master, Oppo Rancisis,” she gestured to the Thisspiasian who gave a welcoming nod. “I remember meeting you two yesterday,” Daran blurted out. “I wanna thank ya’ again, for saving me”. “You’re very welcome my boy,” Rancisis smiled. Suddenly, the Iktotchi sprung from the ground, igniting his lightsaber to strike the Thisspiasian. The Jedi Master reacted almost instantly, drawing his own saber to defend the frantic swings of the Iktotchi. Seeing an opening, he slashed the Iktotchi’s lightsaber in half, destroying it before landing a blow between his cranial horns using the force of his palm, knocking the Iktotchi out. The demonstration of power left Daran speechless. “Captain, Kana and I have successfully apprehended Semt and The Rise.” He spoke into his comlink, solemnity in his tone. “I’m sending you my location now,” he said, pressing a small button on a device affixed to his belt, “alert the Chancellor and have a collection team sent here to detain them. I apologize for that interruption. Now, my boy, could you please tell us how old you are,” he said in a calmer tone. “Four… I think,” Daran replied, slightly unsure. The Jedi Master stroked his beard, deep in thought. 

Kana could see from his contemplative expression that he was weighing up bringing Daran to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. She knew the council was marginally opposed towards the induction of younglings beyond infancy into the Order. However, her master was notably more conservative in the following of the Jedi ways when compared to the fellow Jedi who made up the Jedi High Council and advocated for younglings to be allowed into the order. “Master, I think we should bring him to the Jedi Temple,” she suggested. “Was I not discovered by Master Giiett on Kuat when I was only three years old? What about Master Mundi? He was inducted into the Jedi Order when he was four, just like Daran here”. “I understand your point of view Kana,” he replied. “However, what concerns me is that of the recent induction of Skywalker, the prophecised Chosen One, at the age of nine. I fear the council may not be willing to grant another exception,” he explained. “But master, he is still very young and you saw the power he possesses. It would be such a waste of potential to simply neglect his power and leave him untrained,” Kana argued back. “Think of all the good he could do for the galaxy if he were allowed to be trained, what he could accomplish,” she said persuasively. “And he’s still only four, so he’s only three years out of infancy. I think it’s worth a chance”. Rancisis gave her an honoured smile. “I have taught you well, my padawan. You may not see it, but you are a very wise woman, Kana. You will go on to become a great Jedi Knight someday,” he appraised her. “Very well, now tell me Daran, is there anyone who watches over you,” he asked the boy. “Umm… yes,” Daran nervously replied. “His name is Uinter and he was the guy you two were talking to before you two ran out of his office”. “I see,” Rancisis replied. “We will wait here until the Republic forces arrive, then we shall consult your guardian”.

***

After the Republic forces had arrived and arrested Semt and his disciples, Daran and the two Jedi made their way back to Uinter’s office. During their small walk, Kana told Daran of all the things the Jedi stood for and the adventures she and her master had been through together. These tales of adventure filled Daran’s head with fantasies of the future, thinking of all the amazing places he would go to in the Galaxy and the people he would meet. These thoughts were suddenly ousted from his head as he saw an unimpressed Uinter standing at the wide entrance of the factory, a bitter look plastered across his face. “Daran! Where’n the blazes didya’ go?! And why’re ya’ with ‘em?” the Besalisk bellowed. “Ya’ better have a good excuse for this one, ya’ hear me, or there ain’t gonna be no pay for a week”. 

“Please allow me to provide clarity to the ordeal at hand,” Rancisis stepped in. “This boy, Daran, has shown great potential within the Force, it is very strong with him. I believe the best future for him would be for him to be trained within the Jedi arts to help him unravel his true potential and become a force for light within the Galaxy”. “Wha? So you’re tellin’ me Daran here has the Force?” Uinter asked rhetorically. “Ha! So that’s why he always knows when there’s somethin’ wrong with the circuits,” he mumbled. “Well, the whole Jedi thing does sound nice an’ all, but i’m afraid i gotta tell ya’ that Daran’s stayin’ ‘ere on Corellia, he’s already a “force for light” or whatever, he’s saved a tonne o’ my guys with his skill and i don’t wanna lose that”. 

The idea of staying on Corellia for the rest of his life was ringing through Daran’s head, would he ever gain another opportunity like this? A chance to leave behind the life of the slums and finally see the Galaxy he had only ever been told of in stories and legends. He didn’t think so. “Uinter!” Daran yelled, immediately grabbing his attention. “I don’t wanna live in this place for the rest of my days. I wanna see the stars, I wanna become a Jedi and go on adventures around the Galaxy. I wanna meet and help people everywhere. Think of Osbourne and Marnie, once my ma and pa and your friends. Do ya’ think this is what they want for me? To live the rest of my life in the place they both died? I know they wouldn’t have and I know deep down you don’t either. So please, let me go. This is the only chance I’ll ever get,” tears were flowing down his face. Uinter walked up to Daran and crouched on one knee. “Sab, your ma and pa would be very proud o’ ya’.” the Besalisk said softly, a tear falling from his cheek. “I’ll let ya’ go, but on one condition, ya’ visit me one day,” he gave a small chuckle. “Thank you,” Daran replied. The two embraced, knowing it was the last time they would see each other for a long time. “Come, Daran,” Rancisis interjected, “it is time for your journey to begin”. Daran left the embrace of Winter, giving him one last nod, knowing he would visit him one day.

As Daran was brought aboard The Implier, he couldn’t help but marvel at the interior of the vessel. So bright unstained, it was as if it had never been set foot in. Kana gave him a friendly gesture to follow her and led him to a small room near the command bridge. It didn’t take long for Daran to realise it must be Kana’s quarters, though it was unlike any other he had seen. The room was just as unstained as the corridor, though the bed was so well made it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume no one had slept in it before. The room had a distinct sweet aroma to it, and a real table, a rare luxury in the slums one would be lucky to acquire without stealing it. Daran compared the room to his own slat, so dull, stained, and rancid, with unkempt beds, it was as if this very room was the direct opposite to the slats.

“Here, have a seat,” Kana smiled as she guided him to a small stool while she seated herself opposite to him. “Now, I know this is probably a huge change in scenery for someone like you”. “Umm… yes,” Daran replied nervously as he forced a small smile. “Don’t worry, I felt the exact same way when I was brought aboard a vessel like this,” she reassured him. A minute of awkward silence passed. “Would you like something to drink?” Kana offered, placing two cups and a cylindrical bottle on the table. “Yes please,” Daran replied with more confidence. She delicately poured each of them a cup. Daran starred in amazement at the liquid within. It was a pastel pink colour with small bubbles popping all over the surface of the water. “Have a sip,” Kana encouraged him, taking a sip from her own cup. Cautiously raising the cup to his mouth, he eyed the strange liquid one last time before taking a small swig. His eyes widened as he stared in awe at the cup. Never before had he tasted such a sweet flavour. “I’m going to guess you like it,” Kana chuckled. Daran swiftly nodded as he downed the rest of the liquid. “Hey, you have different coloured eyes,” she pointed out. “That’s rare for Humans”. “‘Never really thought much of ‘em,” Daran replied. “They’re just eyes ya’ know”. “It does make you look unique though. They’re special in their own way,” she replied. “I guess so,” he admitted. The ship started vibrating with the smooth sound of the engines as it filled the cruiser. Adrenaline flew through him as the ship pressurized itself, accelerating away from the landing pad until it was but a speck in the infinitely large scene of Coronet City. His journey had begun.