#the Covenant of Corellia

[well-lets-go-write]

The Bounty who captured me.

Summary: You, a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter, were sent to work for the First Order, in the hopes to help the survival of your coven, on an all to important mission you were sent to hunt down and find resistance members. To far into the First Order, you've become a hand in their destruction, but the force that bound the universe had other plans. All beginning on a desert planet.

Word count: 2197

Raitings: 18+ Mature for graphic Depictions of Violence.

Some of your first memories were that of Coruscant, the days spent entertaining the rich masses, senators and gangsters alike, though bound and shackled, the days were once full of wild abandon. Many nights spent in the comforts of two lifelong friends, the three of you bringing light, life and hope into each other's lives. But these days would be the shortest.

Many years would pass before those memories would resurface for you. In their place screams and wails of horror would conjugate and fester, birthing pain and suffering no one could bear. It all changed on Corellia, life for you had already been shattered, separated from those you held most dear, but at the precipice of defeat, an explosive interruption had the tides shifting.

An attack no one on the criminal planet was anticipating. An Armata, close to a full invasion. Soldiers like none you’d ever seen, but heard of in nightmares; they stormed the street, moving fast like blurs of white light, ransacking every building, killing so many on sight. From the moment the skirmish began you were in a state of focus and shock, every part of you burned despite the frozen air of the planet. Each attack felt like second nature, each evasion had you feeling weightless; something had sparked to life. It was a night that would be engraved in your memory, scorched like blaster wounds forever scaring you. The onslaught of death and destruction, all the pain you’d witnessed would become your motivation, your power. It was never a guarantee you’d survive, from the moment your transport left for Corellia you’d lost hope, and yet at the first opportunity you made your escape. Fueled by the rages of the past, nothing was going to stop you.

So close to freedom, the transport just out of reach, but you would never make it. A firing squad stood in your way, blasting down civilians and prisoners. Death had been looming over you for so long and now you were staring at it in the cold masked face. The things that transpired next changed the course of your life forever, but so many things would be trapped in your mind, images of this next locked away. 

Your memory would always begin in the same place, in the midst of the invasion, the troopers who were only moments ago taking aim at you, now all of them lay dead, bodies contorted and pushed far back from where they started. Frozen where you stood, but not of your own volition, something rooted your feet to the ground. Your body trembled, the fear that was gripping at you was now wrapping itself around your consciousness, threatening to take hold and rip you apart. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ear’s your vision blurred, the last thing you saw became your waking nightmare, a superior trooper clad in chrome armor, an army striding behind them. 

————

 Six years passed.

 Six years of training, brutal, merciless fighting, battles that left you marred by imperfections. Tests and trials did you face, with each success those scars and battle born imperfections became markings of pride. With each passed trial the scars you were left with would be outlined, highlighted, branded with burning reds and blacks so dark no light could escape it. But your last test would prove to be the greatest challenge. 

On Jakku. 

A hefty bounty was placed on many, if not all the resistance members' heads. You were tasked to hunt them down, use their contacts against them, follow them to the ends of the galaxy, kill them all. The pursuit and attack was quick, the resistance pilot never suspecting them on their tail. The First Order’s presence wasn’t known until the stormtrooper's boots touched the ground. Slaughtering all that fought against them. You were last off the transport, Captain Phasma, who you've become quickly acquainted with, following in step beside you. The trooper’s were triumphant in finding the resistance informant, but it was clear even to the fledgling troops that the information was already shared. 

“Look what’s come of your rebellion.” Your mask crackled out in a voice like broken glass. But the old man would not relent.

“Something far worse has happened to you.” His voice was kind, but held a tone that scribed his true feelings without him realizing. 

“You know what I’ve come for.” Even through the mask you anger showed, the voice became more broken and disjointed from the beginning below its metal confines. 

“I know where you came from.” The old man refused to back down, his strong will ever present. 

“The map. We know you found it. And now you're going to give it to the First Order.” Random panicked villagers winced at the hiss of your mask. 

“The First Order rose from the dark side. You. Did. Not.” All of his actions came to a head, his whole body stiffened, eyes becoming dark and sharp. 

“You'll see their true power soon enough.” The crackling of your mask finally broke, twisting into a shrill broken sound. 

“Try as you might. But you cannot deny the truth.” Like your mask his voice cracked, the overwhelming fear breaking through. 

“You’re so right.”

Disappointed with the circumstance of the events you gave the signal, death would rain down on them; and yet someone still tried to stop them. The resistance pilot. He had stationed himself beyond the small village on a darkened sand dune, it seemed he’d worked himself into a vengeful stupor, his attempt did subdue them, but not for long. The pilot had fired a powerful blaster, he had to’ve been behind the dune burying himself in sand priming the weapon; all for a lackluster assault. The tracer of the blaster roared through the air, but you felt the heat and buzz before it got close to you, giving you ample time to move just out of the way even with your back slightly turned. Fear gripped the pilot, a moment too long, troopers surrounded him, capturing him. You took your time turning around, the build-up of fearful anticipation was all the more worth it when your masked gaze fell onto the pilot. The air of the planet was hot, burning even through the armor, but on nights of battle, the fires of war couldn’t warm the void of your heart. 

Two troopers dragged the pilot to your feet, his expression was a twisted mangled look of anger and rage; yet when he looked up at you his resolve changed, a clarity came over him, then silence hung about the both of you. 

The longer the moment dragged on the more confused the pilot became as you stood above, staring down at him. As he stared up at you his expression softened slightly, then he knitted his brows together, cocking one up. “So, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?” His voice was not what you expected, nor did you anticipate his strong mind. 

“The old man gave it to you.” Your mask had reset to its median of shattered static. But it did nothing to unnerve the polit. 

“It’s just hard to understand you with all the….” He attempted to jabber on while gesturing with a nod of his head, but you refused him to continue, cutting him off. “Apparatus..” His voice still carried through however.   

“Search him.” The order was given and executed swiftly, the two troopers held him in place while one searched. 

“Nothing, Sir.” The signal trooper reported before returning in lines with the others. 

“Put him on board.” Your voice was a growl, but the mask forced it out in a deep metallic sound. The troopers didn’t hesitate, grabbing the pilot up and moving him to the transport. You watched as the troopers dragged the pilot aboard the transport. Seeing the mission as a success, you began to head towards the ship, focused purely on the pilot, but were stopped by the Captain. 

“Sir, the villagers?” Phasma asked facing your back, never missing a single detail. 

“Kill them all.” Those words would replay in your mind, this night and the events that follow, all of it becoming a brand on your soul. A hum grew in your ears as you marched towards the ship, the faint sound of Phasma’s voice, “On my command. Fire.”  The thump of your boots fell into a rhythm with the blaster fire, the screams of the innocent muffled by your own breathing, your heartbeat. 

— 

You didn’t see the prisoner again after that, aboard the star destroyer, you were paid the bounty as well as the promised goods for your coven. 

—

On the Dreadnought the heads of your coven reside, you were indoctrinated fully before your leaders, guided through your trials by your Armorer.

In the beginning of your trials you bore only the clothes they found you in; with each test came promise of more, with each success came spoiles. Like the scars you were left with, at the end of each trial there was a ceremony, the Armorer would regale you in armor, furs and cloth taken from battle. As a new Mandalorian you were given a name, UrVa. As a Mandalorian you bore armor taken from battle, skulls decorated a belt slung around your hips, the rope that bound the bone and cloth to your body was the last remnant of your past. But the metal of your mask, your armor, and weapons were the same as the others, Beskar. Now you stand side by side with the others of your coven, tall and proud. 

——

The war was heating up, every planet and system was weary and on edge, always on the lookout for an attack, prepared for the absolute worst. This had many Mandalorians in action, many were fighting, both sides and many neutral parties. Your coven however was playing a long game. Survival. The system your coven resided in the most had been under siege for years, it's prime long in the past with the clone wars. The coven was spread thin, many having made backdoor deals for goods and supplies, many lost to battle. The leaders were quickly deciding to regroup and hide. A select few were still sent out, You being one of them. After the ceremony, you and the four others were briefed on a plan of escape by the coven heads. The peoples of the planet needed to seek refuge, but under cover. The five of you were sent out, one to each major system, and you were sent back to the First Order in hopes to dupe the fledgling empire and keep any wandering eyes off your coven. 

          On Starkiller with General Hux and Captain Phasma, you stood with them during the planetary execution of the Republic system. The General’s long, overdrawn speech left your ears ringing, the pale man’s voice gravelly yet shrill. The cheers of the stormtroopers morphed together into a single sound; a booming heartbeat. It thumped at your feet, vibrating threw your body, rattling your bones and boiling your blood. 

But it all fell silent, before the troops could quiet, you felt it. The deep internal rumble of the artificial planet, the maga-structure you stood on roaring to life. It was so slow, the burning light of the star collector, the charge up, the discharge, all of it happened too slow, too much detail was taken in, the red light of the tracer blinding everyone even through their masks. From the platform it appeared, exploding from the horizon, the shockwave trembling over the thousands of First Order. It was death. 

Without reason, fear, so much fear, it rushed you all at once, before the blast left the Supreme weapon, before the tracer of mass energy would reach its target. You felt the fear of the system that was about to face ultimate death. ‘Would they know?’ ‘Would they even have time to fear?’ ‘Would they question what awaited them?’ Waves of fear hit you, like a drowned rat struggling against the surf, gasping at every chance. For every set of eyes that gazed upon the tracer as if shot through space, rushing towards attack, waves of carnal fear struck you like lashes from a whip. Tears rolled from your eyes against your will, falling into and past your mask. ‘Are they there?’ ‘Could they escape?’ Thoughts and concerns that came too late. 

Anguish, suffering, fear, millions staring in the face of obliteration, inescapable death. All of it You felt. The pain had you dizzy, nearly grasping onto Phasma, but you didn’t, you turned on your heel and stormed away, back into the cold metal base, somehow finding comfort in the military base. 

In your quarters you found solace in the minimalistic room, peace in the forced silence and solitude. There you meditated, losing yourself in the pursuit of answers, but your mind wandered, flashes of the past and people long gone swarmed at your mind. Fighting back the malice and anguish, you focused on the present, but your head was in a spin, the emotions that had been rocking you that whole cycle finally taking you down, the unconscious void swallowing you in an instant.

And it begins. I hope yall enjoyed the first part!

[b-radley66]

For the Pure and Free: Final Chapter Preview

Across the Generations: Approximately one week before the Hosnian Conflagration

Cover Art by the wonderful @sl-walker

Posts tomorrow here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768171/chapters/34152980

Meglann falls silent. J’ohana can see the memories surge over her face; a smile competing with great sadness. The smile wins.

��Admiral—,” she starts. The old woman places her curled fingers against her lips. “You can call me Meglann, or Hammer, or Ina. I am, after all, family. At least in Zeltron bonding conventions.” 

J’oh watches as Meglann’s right hand moves to her waist. J’oh can see the faint outlines of a chain under the trousers.  She looks over at Jamelyn, her eyes wide.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t even try to figure out who’s who in this family, anymore.”

“That didn’t exactly make it into the history books,” Jo says dryly.

She takes a deep breath. “Why did your mother leave the Navy?” she asks. “She could’ve fought any charges Secor brought.”

Meglann closes her eyes. For an instant, J’ohana thinks she has gone too far. That the questions are too painful. 

The eyes snap open. “I don’t know. She knew that she was pregnant when she left. I think that may have had something to do with it. I don’t know. It was her decision. She didn’t ask anyone else; she never told anyone else. My father. My uncle. No one.”

J’ohana Shaizan nods. “Why did you choose Corellia? Why not New Alderaan?”

Meglann turns away. Jo places her hands on her shoulders, squeezing tightly. “I was on Alderaan just hours before the Death Star...” She takes a deep ragged breath. “I was on an assignment. I didn’t get a chance to see my uncle.” Meglann turns around. “We figured out that we probably jumped away just as the battle station jumped in.” She grins. “I’m a daughter of Alderaan. I’m a daughter of a Republic Admiral and a naval officer, as well as an accountant and an artist. I’m also a granddaughter of Corellia. My grandmother was the last blood relative I had. She took me in without compunction; just like Bryne and Ahsoka, Dani, Nola, Draq’—even Lassa.” 

“What about Fondor?” Jo asks. 

Meglann laughs. “Didn’t exactly go well when I tried to meet them. That family reunion almost got me, Bryne, and Ahsoka hanged as ship thieves. Nola and Tamsin, as well as a couple of distant relatives managed to get us out of that one. Even though your grandfather and Ahsoka never admitted it.”

She walks over to Jamelyn. The Elector holds out her hands. Meglann leans the cane against her hip as she takes the hands in hers. “Corellia’s my home.” She bows her head. “It’s why I accept your charge, your Grace. I’ll take the carrier task force to support Leia Organa.”

Jo can see the gratitude in her cousin’s gray eyes. Jamelyn pulls Meglann into an embrace.

“Don’t know if we’ll make it there. I think those assholes may make a move towards the Core,” Meglann says. She looks at Jo. “I am assuming that your Eminence will command my fighters?”

Jamelyn nods at Jo. “Yes. She will.” She beckons to Jo, who walks over and is pulled into the embrace. 

After a long moment the three women break apart. Jamelyn slaps Jo on her ass. “Go, General. Get ready.” She picks up the lightsaber. “Take this. Keep it hidden, for now. We may need it.”

Jo fights her own tears. Meglann kisses her on her cheek. 

The Covenant of Corellia turns and exits the room.

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: In a world where the different Jedi sects co-exist, Ahsoka Tano and her Master Obi-Wan Kenobi are waiting for a stranger in the desert.

AN: I have started a new WIP.

Ahsoka had learned quite a lot since she had become her Master’s Padawan. Mostly she had been taught how to fight, take down opponents twice her size, how to defend and protect others by building walls higher than anyone could climb, and not get lost in the screaming, tear-stained horror of war. Perhaps it was not the padawanhood that Ahsoka had imagined, but she wouldn’t trade Obi-Wan for any other Master. He was patient, kind, and never lost his temper with her, even when Ahsoka made a foolish mistake, and the day had been longer than a week.

Her Master always kept busy, running around organizing one thing or another. The evidence of his exhaustion was visible in the bags under his eyes he didn’t quite manage to hide behind meditations anymore. He was relentlessly trying to find a way to end this war earlier, to save more people, to lessen the burden on each and every person he loved. Ahsoka would be glad if they could cease fighting within just a few short months, but even she knew that the chance of peace was dwindling with every life lost on either side.

And they certainly weren’t on Tatooine to talk about peace. At most, they were hoping to negotiate non-involvement from the Hutts – at least superficially, of course the Hutts would continue with their underground dealings, even the GAR relied on it – and use of their hyperspace lanes.

“General, if you don’t mind me asking, who are we waiting for?”

Ahsoka was glad that Cody had spoken up. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to keep her silence much longer. She hadn’t wanted to pester Obi-Wan with questions, but she was curious why they had landed in the middle of the Force-forsaken desert in the middle of the night and not anywhere near Jabba’s palace.

“We are waiting for an informant,” Obi-Wan said. “An old friend, if you will.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to ask what kind of friend Obi-Wan had on Tatooine of all places when she saw a figure approaching on a speeder. Immediately, everyone looked up. When a few of the more blaster-inclined clones of their small squadron reached for their weapons, Obi-Wan gave them the hand sign to lay low. They exchanged curious looks but dropped the guns, trusting him completely. Ahsoka hoped that she could inspire such trust in her someday.

The person parked their speeder just outside of their camp. From what Ahsoka could see, they were dressed entirely in dark robes, cut not dissimilar to those of a Coruscanti Jedi, while their face was covered by a dark scarf. Various trinkets hung from their belts and arms, as well as twin blasters, making the barest of noises when they approached the camp. Golden jewelry glinted in the light of their fire, feathers, pouches, bells, and something that could be bones chimed sweetly with the wind. The figure stretched, then they took notice of Obi-Wan. Quicker than Ahsoka could have stopped them, they had crossed the remaining distance and thrown themselves at Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan!”

Her Master just barely managed to keep his balance as he accepted the hug of the other person. They embraced tightly, an eternity passing in which dark leather-gloved fingers dug into her Master’s back, then let go of each other. The figure removed the dark scarf from around their head, let it fall around their neck, revealing tanned skin, a human face, and dark blonde hair that was framed by little golden feathers tugged behind his ears.

The person smiled openly, rolled forward on their toes and only then spoke. “It’s been a while.”

Their voice was surprisingly soft, melodic almost.

“That it has,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling just as welcoming, the Force lighting up in reciprocal. “It has been too long since we last saw each other, Anakin. Thank you for meeting us here, even if the circumstances are not ideal.”

The newly named Anakin just shrugged. “I was in the area and really, making an extra stop at Tatooine for you is no trouble.”

The two looked ready to forget about just everyone else still standing around the campfire, watching them, and so Ahsoka decided to do her duty and coughed. “Master, would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Apologies, Ahsoka.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin mumbled, then snapped their fingers, alight with recognition as they faced Obi-Wan. “Your Padawan, correct?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin grinned, pointing at Cody next. “And then that must be Cody. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Anakin Skywalker, he/him.”

He bowed formally with both his feet firm on the ground, one hand clasped over his heart, the other on his back. Delighted, Ahsoka copied the gesture. It had been ages since she’d been at the temple and someone had greeted her with all the respect Jedi usually gave each other.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ahsoka returned his greeting, still trying to figure out who this Anakin was that her Master had decided to talk to him about her.

“Anakin here is a Teepo Paladin—”

“Sort of,” Anakin interrupted Obi-Wan, tilting his hand and shaking it in a so-and-so matter. “I haven’t been back to our temple in years, so I’m still not technically a Paladin, but still a Knight on their Search…”

He stopped talking when he realized that nobody had any idea of what he was talking about. Ahsoka didn’t know much about the Teepo Paladins. They were a relatively small group, and unlike the Altisian or Corellian Jedi, they hadn’t joined the Republic Army and stayed mostly on their own, following the Force. Ahsoka had learned about them, and all the other groups the ordinary sentient threw under the header Jedi, in her classes, but she’d never actually met a Teepo Jedi.

“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “How can I help you?”

“We need to negotiate with Jabba,” Obi-Wan said, not wasting a single minute. “Do you think you can tell us something that would be useful?”

“Uh,” Anakin put his head in his hands. “Yeah, he’s a bastard and gates my guts. If he sees me around you guys, it’s definitely not going to be pleasant.”

“What did you do to him?” Ahsoka asked, curiosity taking ahold of her tongue before she could stop herself.

Anakin didn’t seem to mind the interruption; he only eagerly continued his narration. “Decided to steal his latest shipment of slaves and then some. With Coruscant, Corellia, and the Altisian bores—”

“Anakin.” Her Master’s voice rang out sharp, reminding Ahsoka of the times he scolded her.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, the Altisian Jedi all running the Republic army, the rest, who hasn’t sworn allegiance to a planet or a system, is just doing damage control all around. I’ve wrecked a couple dozen pirate ships already, or so it feels, at least. But yeah, long story short, I won’t be able to help with Jabba, but I can provide backup if it goes sideways?”

Obi-Wan sighed, but even so, he still felt happy and comfortable to Ahsoka’s senses as he hadn’t in weeks. “We’ll take what we can get. I’ll call the Council. Do you want to stay with us for the night?”

Anakin gave him a thumbs up. “Already told my mother I was staying. And I brought my own food, so you don’t have to spare your rations. I think I might even have some sweets.” He glanced at Ahsoka and winked conspiringly, making her giggle.

Obi-Wan’s expression softened. “Alright, alright, I see, you’re set for life. Get comfortable then.”

He turned around to walk a little away from the camp, but from the way his shoulders twitched, Ahsoka assumed that he definitely heard Anakin’s shouted: “Not without you!”

As her Master had ordered, everyone who wasn’t on watch gathered around the campfire and broke out the rations. Anakin did, indeed, share his candy with her and handed out more of the local food to the clones.

“My mother packed it,” he said when he shared more of the salt-covered blackberries. “It would be a waste not to share it.”

Sitting around the fire with them, he fit right in despite not looking much like a warrior. If anything, his attire, decorated with trinkets that had to stem from various planets, reminded Ahsoka of a traveler. But if she were to believe his stories, he must be quite the fighter. Ahsoka knew that more and more pirates were growing powerful and influential without Coruscant’s oversight, but she hadn’t known that the other sects had stepped up to deal with it. She wondered if the Council knew. Though, Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed surprised by it, so they were probably aware.

“So, do you not carry a lightsaber?” Ticker, one of the younger clones, asked. “I only see your blasters. I didn’t know Jedi carried those.”

“The Coruscant sect doesn’t,” Anakin agreed and then turned to Ahsoka. “Though, I think you’re still all taught how to? I know Obi-Wan’s wickedly good with a sniper rifle.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka replied quickly. She got her blaster sessions with the best marksmen of the 212th, who all ensured she should be fine if she ever lost her lightsaber.

Not that Ahsoka was planning on it.

“Right, my Order carries blasters additionally to our lightsabers.” He moved his robes and revealed his lightsaber. “I just keep it a little more hidden away. It makes it easier to work sometimes if people don’t see from a mile away that you’re a Jedi.”

Ahsoka found herself agreeing with him. It made sense and she knew that there had been at least five missions that would have been easier if their target hadn’t immediately spotted that she was a lightsaber. She knew that her Order carried the blades openly purposefully so that they could be easily identified, they had to be as they were an officially recognized member of the Republic, but Quinlan and Aayla didn’t. Most Covenant Jedi actually didn’t, ensuring they could do their work in the shadows. Occasionally, Ahsoka wondered whether she was supposed to know so much about how they operated, or if that was just a benefit of Obi-Wan being close friends with Quinlan.

“And where’s the difference between your… everything and the General’s?”

“Don’t ask me for details,” Anakin said. “Haven’t had one of those discussions in a while, but our differences aren’t that huge. Most of the differences stem from the Republic backing of the Coruscant sect, I think. The members of my Order just also carry blasters and fight entirely submerged in the Force. We also don’t really do missions, which sucks for budgeting because we still have to get funding, and just go wherever the Force takes us. We don’t really have the numbers to provoke the big changes, that’s more up Coruscant’s or Corellia’s alley. We try to help the small people on the ground and hope the big guys make sure we can leave one planet in safe hands and travel to the next.”

That sounded familiar to Ahsoka. The Coruscant sect was the largest, so they had the most influence, even if too many Senators only played pretend at listening to their suggestions. At least the Chancellor trusted them.

“What do you mean, fight submerged in the Force?” A different clone, Storytime, ever the curious, spoke up. “Is that different from the General and the Commander?”

“Oh! Right.” Anakin laughed. “So basically, we cover our eyes and ears during a fight?”

“You do what?” Cody’s alarmed tone made Ahsoka only snort. She still remembered his attempt at getting Obi-Wan to wear a little more armor by pointing at the Revanchist folks that had accompanied them on one mission.

It had been an absolute train-wreck, but they had managed to succeed. Somehow.

Anakin only grinned in reply and reached for the golden feathers behind his ears. He took them off, revealing that they were not, in fact, feathers, but electronic devices with small buttons. 

“I tap these, and they block out any and all noise and cover my eyes. Then I trust the Force to keep me safe and tell me where I need to pay attention.”

“That sounds… risky.” If Ahsoka didn’t know better, she’d say that Cody was having a heart attack. His assessment of that fighting style had been exceedingly polite given that he looked as if he wanted to cuss it out.

Anakin shrugged as if it were no big deal to him and, having grown up in such a way, it probably wasn’t. “It wasn’t that difficult to get used to. I grew up here on Tatooine. The sand and the heat steal away plenty of your senses already.”

“You weren’t raised in your temple then?”

Anakin shook his head. “No, not really. We do have a temple, a rather small one, not even a tenth of Coruscant’s size. We raise children there, but most of the time, everyone is just on their Search.”

He emphasized the last word so that Ahsoka concluded it must be a special ritual that wasn’t like their Search for younglings.

“My Master was on his Search when he found me and since the Force didn’t call him home, he continued to travel with me.”

That sounded like a strange childhood to have. Ahsoka hadn’t known anything of the galaxy but the temple walls and Ilum until Obi-Wan had accepted her as his Padawan. Since then, she had seen plenty of other planets, even if she hadn’t had too much time to appreciate their beauty. She wondered how Anakin had gotten his education. Ahsoka had attended many classes of dozens of teachers in the temple. His childhood didn’t appear to resemble hers a lot, but she could easily picture a small human boy trailing after another masked Jedi, chatting with just the same cheer he was talking now.

“Sounds fascinating,” Storytime breathed. 

“Once the war is over, feel free to come to visit us. I know of at least one other Paladin who has attached himself to a Clone squadron and is planning to take them home for a visit at least once.”

“That would be very kind,” Storytime replied.

“No problem.”

Anakin then suddenly turned his head, his motion so rash that the clones instinctually reached for their blasters. Thankfully, they recognized Obi-Wan quickly enough that nobody got hurt accidentally.

Obi-Wan only blinked at them and then sat down next to Anakin. “What a lovely greeting.”

Some of the clones sheepishly packed their blasters away while others just shot back a look that was as dry as Obi-Wan’s words. They were on Tatooine; it made sense to be even more on guard than usual.

“And? What did your Council say?” Anakin asked, handing Obi-Wan a plate with food.

“Coruscant is not taking any responsibility for any outside agents who might get involved in this mission,” Obi-Wan replied, the flow of his words so steady that he had to be reciting the words of another.

“That’s council speak for ‘let him do whatever he wants’, right?”

Obi-Wan paused with his meal to confirm his question. “Yes, Anakin, that means you can do whatever you want. But if you get invited by the Republic for a hearing, we’re not backing you up either.”

“Yes, yes, I had expected nothing else from you sticker-to-the-rules Coruscanti.”

“Says the head-in-the-clouds Teepo,” Obi-Wan retorted in the same manner, matching Anakin’s intonation, quoting old stereotypes that used to be hurled as insults but have since only become something almost akin to terms of endearments.

“So, when are we going to leave?” Ahsoka asked. She wanted to know if she should go to bed early or prepare herself for a long night.

“Tomorrow before the sun rises,” Obi-Wan said, glancing at Anakin for confirmation.

“Yes, best to leave early on Tatooine. I’d also suggest trying to get some sleep. Negotiations will be exhausting.”

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. “You know what that means, Ahsoka.”

“Yes, yes.” Ahsoka stood up. “Bedtime for me. I’m not a little youngling anymore, Master. I know when to get my sleep.”

She bid them goodnight and headed back towards the ship, ready to sleep curled up in the small med-station of their transport that was as close to a proper bed as she could get. She didn’t know how much longer her Master and his friend stayed up, but both looked well-rested when she got up the next day. Her Master, perhaps, even a little less exhausted than usual.

[theshijlegacy]

Rakghouls are back on Corellia this week!

Here’s some fun from last year: Chissage (of Jedi Covenant) does a bit of pre-boss dancing and Zek gets a new friend.

[reallystellacadente]

Your eternal father, Major Malavai Quinn

Quinn’s letters to his daughter. Spoilers from the huge update just posted to The Spaces In Between, my f!SW/Quinn main fic. But it can be read all on its own. Partially under a cut for length. And sadness, and that brutal glimmer of Hope that often accompanies it.

My dearest child, I just want to get my thoughts in order. I am so overjoyed by your mother’s news. That you exist. That you are coming to us. That she will be able to put down her lightsabers and be the mother I know she wants to be. You should know how honored I am already to be your father. I cannot say more; I am too overwhelmed. Perhaps someday, you will understand that your parents, despite being such complicated people, love each other and love you very much. I will be so happy to show you this journal someday.

Your father, Major Malavai Quinn.

----- My dearest child, I am honoring your mother’s wish not to know your gender until your quickening. It’s not hard, you will be loved regardless. You will have a place in the Empire regardless. We will pave the way for your happiness regardless. I broached the topic of naming you Donovar regardless of gender with your mother, to honor my late grandfather the admiral. She approved. It was a lovely moment, even if it was over the holo and even if the war for Corellia was raging in the background on both sides of the conversation. You should know you have an entire family eagerly awaiting your arrival, at least on my side. I have made it a challenge to myself to help your mother find her family again, so you can appreciate both sides of your unique heritage.

Your father, Major Malavai Quinn.

My dearest child, The fighting here is drawing to its natural conclusion. We are perhaps days away from winning this planet. All the sacrifices, all the time spent away from your mother, it will all be worth it. I hope it is possible to convey to you, as soon as you are ready to understand, that I in no way begrudge your mother for her decision to remain fighting. She has been crucial to the inevitable victory in the planet’s capital; truly, I doubt it would have been possible without her. She has promised to lay down her sabers once the planet is won. We have a new home on Dromund Kaas to prepare for you. Your mother is an amazing person. I cannot wait to see the two of you being introduced.

Your loving father, Major Malavai Quinn.

----- My dearest child, I might have to rethink my plans to name you Donovar. Someone very close to your mother and I – he would have been your cousin -- has given his life in sacrifice to the Empire. Indeed, he saved my life today in exchange for his. I am still shaking as I type these words. So if you wind up being called Darvas, then his story shall be yours.

Your humbled, loyal and grateful father, Major Malavai Quinn.

—— My dearest child, The war for Corellia is won! I watched via holo as your mother received a medal around her neck. And when she said it was time for the people of Corellia to go back to their homes and families, secure in the knowledge that the Empire would protect them, she looked right at the holocam and I know she was speaking to me. I was overjoyed with pride, of course, but more so even that I will be able to see her in person in just a few days. There are still outbreaks of violence here on the northern continent, and I am responsible for seeing them resolved. But I am counting the hours until your family is together and whole again.

Your patriotic father, Major Malavai Quinn

----- The file with the previous entries was deleted, then restored. An addition was made several days later. -----

My dearest child, It has been a week almost since you left us. But to me, you still exist in my heart. You might be all that is left of my heart. I cannot face your mother right now. We are torn apart by your loss. I am continuing this journal for now in hopes that it proves useful someday.

Your grieving father, Major Malavai Quinn.

------- My dearest daughter, I found out today from your grandmother, my mother, that you were my daughter. Your mother has named you Avireen and you are to be buried according to Miralukan tradition in your familial burial grounds on her homeworld of Covenant. We still have not spoken, your mother and I. Our grief is too thick, like fog after a summer rain. Except it has been more than a month since you left us and it has not lifted. She has not received my holos, nor sent any of her own. But I understand. We said cruel things to one another in our grief. Our love is not finished, but clearly, our relationship is. Know this, I simply loved her more than my heart could bear. And you as well.

If it is true what the Jedi believe, that death makes you one with the Force, then one day you will meet her. And if the Maker is especially kind, perhaps before my spirit dissipates into the ether, I will be able to spend one perfect moment with you, too.

Now I can let you rest.

Your eternal father, Major Malavai Quinn.

[cinemedios]

El extenso material adicional invita a los fans a bordo del Millennium Falcon junto a Han, Chewie y Lando, y al detrás de escenas con el estelar elenco y equipo de filmación.

La película de Lucasfilm Han Solo: Una Historia de Star Wars, dirigida por el cineasta ganador del Premio de la Academia® Ron Howard —el creador de films inolvidables, como “A Beautiful Mind”, “Apollo 13”, “Parenthood” y “Splash”— llevó a los cinéfilos en la aventura más divertida del verano junto al bribón más querido de toda la galaxia, Han Solo (Alden Ehrenreich). El viaje cargado de acción explora los primeros encuentros de Han con su futuro amigo y copiloto Chewbacca (Joonas Suotamo) y el célebre apostador Lando Calrissian (Donald Glover), así como su pasado repleto de aventuras junto a su amiga de la infancia, la ladrona callejera Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke) y el delincuente profesional Beckett (Woody Harrelson). Mírala cuando el Millennium Falcon dirija su curso en formato Blu-ray™ y DVD el próximo 5 de octubre.

PREORDENA AQUÍ: Han Solo: Una Historia de Star Wars (SteelBook) [Blu-ray]

  El material adicional de lleva a los fans al detrás de escenas para que disfruten de conversaciones cautivantes con el elenco repleto de estrellas y los guionistas Jonathan Kasdan y Lawrence Kasdan (guionista de Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back y de Star Wars: Return of the Jedi); un revelador video protagonizado por Chewie y su perdurable amistad con Han; una mirada de cerca a la versión original del Millennium Falcon y a la primera vez que Han pilotea la infame nave; la creación de los fantásticos escenarios de la película y sus impactantes escenas de acción; y ocho escenas eliminadas y extendidas nunca antes vistas.

MATERIAL ADICIONAL*:

Blu-ray:

Solo: conversaciones con el director y el elenco

Siéntate con el director Ron Howard y los protagonistas para una conversación íntima y entretenida sobre la realización de la película.

Equipo Chewie

Observa qué se necesita para hacer cobrar vida a tu Wookiee favorito en esta divertida mirada al detrás de escenas.

Kasdan sobre Kasdan

El emblemático guionista de Star Wars Lawrence Kasdan y su hijo Jonathan comparten qué significó escribir juntos el guión de la película.

La renovación del Millennium Falcon

Rastrea la transformación de la nave más famosa de la galaxia, desde el impecable tesoro del que presume Lando hasta la veloz y austera nave de carga de Han con “modificaciones especiales”.

Escape de Corellia

Ubícate en el asiento del conductor para la realización de esta persecución de alto octanaje por las calles de Corellia.

El robo al tren

Explora los desafíos y emociones de la creación de esta escena cargada de acción, desde su ubicación remota hasta sus fantásticos efectos especiales.

Convertiéndose en el androide L3-37

Conoce al más reciente androide y al talentoso actor que ayuda a darle vida.

Bribones, androides, criaturas y cartas: bienvenidos a Fort Ypso

Recorre en profundidad el rústico bar donde se mezclan los extraños y los apostadores lo arriesgan todo en el legendario juego de cartas Sabaac.

En el Maelstrom: el corredor de Kessel

Únete a Han y Chewie en los controles de mando del Millennium Falcon para ver cómo se desarrolla este momento emblemático de la historia de Star Wars.

Escenas eliminadas

La guarida de Proxima

La persecución a pie en Corellia

Han Solo: cadete imperial

La batalla de Mimban: versión extendida

Han versus Chewie: versión extendida

¡Lucha de bolas de nieve!

Conoce a Dryden: versión extendida

La traición del Coaxium

*El material adicional puede variar dependiendo del punto de venta.

Dirigida por Ron Howard, la película de robos galácticos repleta de diversión es protagonizada por Alden Ehrenreich (“Hail, Caesar!”, “Tetro”), Woody Harrelson (“Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri”, “The Messenger”), Emilia Clarke (“Me Before You”, “Game of Thrones”), Donald Glover (“Spider-Man: Homecoming”, “The Martian”), Thandie Newton (“Gringo”, “Crash”), Phoebe Waller-Bridge (“Fleabag”, “Killing Eve”) y Paul Bettany (“Captain America: Civil War”, “Master and Commander”). Joonas Suotamo (Star Wars: The Last Jedi) regresa para interpretar a Chewbacca.

Escrita por Jonathan Kasdan junto con Lawrence Kasdan, “Solo: A Star Wars Story” es producida por Kathleen Kennedy, Allison Shearmur y Simon Emanuel. Lawrence Kasdan, Jason McGatlin, Phil Lord y Christopher Miller son los productores ejecutivos.

Para crear el singular aspecto de la película, fueron convocados algunos de los mayores talentos de la industria, entre ellos el director de fotografía nominado al Premio de la Academia® Bradford Young (“Arrival”); el editor ganador de dos Premios de la Academia Pietro Scalia (“Alien: Covenant”); el supervisor de efectos especiales Dominic Tuohy (“The Mummy”); el supervisor de efectos visuales Rob Bredow (“Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”) y John Powell (“Jason Bourne”), compositor y adaptador de la música.

A ellos se unen miembros experimentados del equipo de filmación de Star Wars: Neil Lamont, director de arte; Neal Scanlan, efectos especiales de criaturas; David Crossman y Glyn Dillon, diseñadores de vestuario; Jamie Wilkinson, utilero; Lisa Tomblin-Fitzpatrick, diseñadora de peinados; y Amanda Knight, diseñadora de maquillaje.

El legendario John Williams es el autor del tema de “Han Solo” y de la música original de Star Wars.

ESPECIFICACIONES:

DURACIÓN DE LA PELÍCULA:

Aproximamente 135 minutos.

CALIFICACIÓN:

PG-13 en EE.UU. (el material adicional no está calificado); PG en CE y G en CF

PRODUCTOS:                                                  

Digital 4K UHD (algunos proveedores incluyen Dolby Vision), HD, SD, 4K UHD Multi Screen Edition (4K UHD + BD + Código Digital), Película en Blu-ray (BD + Código Code), DVD y On Demand .

FORMATO DE PANTALLA:

2.39:1 

AUDIO:

4K UHD BD = inglés 7.1.4 Dolby Atmos, audio descriptivo 2.0 en inglés, tailandés 5.1 Dolby Digital, español y francés 7.1 Dolby Digital Plus.

Blu-ray = inglés 7.1 DTS-HDMA, audio descriptivo 2.0 en inglés, español y francés 5.1 Dolby Digital.

DVD = inglés, francés y español 5.1 Dolby Digital, audio descriptivo 2.0 en inglés.

4K UHD Digital = inglés Dolby Atmos (para algunos clientes), inglés 5.1/2.0, español latinoamericano 5.1/2.0, francés 5.1/2.0 (para algunos clientes), audio descriptivo 2.0 en inglés (para algunos clientes).

HD / SD Digital = inglés 5.1/2.0, español latinoamericano 5.1/2.0, francés 5.1/2.0 (para algunos clientes), audio descriptivo 2.0 en inglés (para algunos clientes).

SUBTÍTULOS:                            

4K UHD = inglés SDH, chino cantonés, coreano, español latinoamericano, tailandés, chino tradicional para inglés, francés canadiense.

Blu-ray = inglés SDH, francés y español.

DVD = inglés SDH, francés y español.

4K UHD / HD / SD Digital = inglés SDH, francés y español.

SUBTÍTULOS PARA SORDOS: 

Inglés  (DVD y Digital)

Detalles y fecha de estreno del blu-ray de ‘Han Solo: Una Historia de Star Wars'. El extenso material adicional invita a los fans a bordo del Millennium Falcon junto a Han, Chewie y Lando, y al detrás de escenas con el estelar elenco y equipo de filmación.

[b-radley66]

Chapters: 1/10 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Breha Organa (cameo), Bail Organa (cameo), Lassa Rhayme, Riyo Chuchi (cameo), Jame Blackthorn | Bryne Covenant | Taliesin Croft (Original Character), Dani Faygan (original character), Nola Vorserrie (Original Character), Meglann Florlin (Original Character), Original Corellian Characters, Shyla Merricope, Tamsin (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Families of Choice, Love, Corellian Worldbuilding and Mythology, Polyamory then and now, Genderfluid Character, Staying in the Light Series: Part 29 of Rise and Fight Again Summary:

Two different Ages of Uncertain Paths. A thousand generations apart. Two powerful women and their swordmates, their opponents, and those unknown, steer their way along those uncertain and oftentimes divergent paths. Paths that become more certain as they attempt to build the light and keep the darkness at bay in their own times.

[b-radley66]

Corellia—The First Covenant

The First Age of Uncertain Paths (25,000 years before the Jedi fell)

Inasia feels the pull in her shoulders as she rows the small dory. Behind her, Telae curses softly as her oars get tangled up with those of Terias who is rowing smoothly.

“C’mon, idiot. Don’t you have any rhythm?” Terias whispers fiercely.

“Depends on what I’m doing, kitten,” Telae whispers through gritted teeth.

“Do you think that both of you could shut up?” Inasia ask. “Why didn’t we just bring a gods-damned brass band?”

“They wouldn’t fit in the boat,” Telae responds without a breath, her voice dryer than the interior desert she hailed from. “Why couldn’t we bring Taliesin to handle all the rowing. It’s what he’s good for.”

“I can think of a couple things he’s good for,” Terias snarks, just as quickly as Telae had.

Inasia can almost hear her teeth grinding. “Because,” she says patiently, “that part that we all seem to be fond of might get cut off if it had reared its head and was revealed to be in attendance at a Challenging. Not to mention the fact that we would probably be hanging from whatever yard is free with spikes through our wrists, waiting on our lungs to drown us.”

“We might still be enjoying that little party, if that something else pops out on our challenger, as well,” Telae observes soberly.

Inasia nods. “Maybe. But our contender is of the blood of a respected Daughter-Captain. She was raised to be the Daughter-Captain. Fortunately most of the Solos can be open-minded about these things.”

“Mostly,” Terias adds. “I don’t think Jelena might be one of them. She might twist Dany into new and different shapes.”

Inasia holds her hand up, signaling silence. Through the fog, they can hear a sharp bell and the clanking of weapons. They fall silent as they continue rowing.

Within moments, they are staring up at the sides of a huge sailing ship. A crewmember hangs over the side, a lantern signaling them. Inasia’s eyes track up the side of the ship. She sees Terias cataloguing the weapons that are pointed at them.

“Are you Garm’s lackey?” the crewman asks bluntly. There is only a hairbreadth of time before he curses as his head bobs in the water. Terias looks at Telae with amazement as she examines her nails.

Inasia smirks for a moment, then looks at the crewman floating in the water. “I’m no one’s lackey. I serve the Brother.” She looks up at the entry port, where loud laughter floats down. As her eyes fall on the port, she sees the weapons pulling back from pointing at them. She looks at the other two Links, who nod. She scrambles up the planks nailed into the hull of the ship that lead her to the entryport.

She is soon standing on the deck of the raider’s ship. She looks around at the mass of the Family; all staring back at her. Her eyes light on a familiar face; she allows her eyes to shine a smile in the face’s direction.

As Terias and Telae clamber up in succession and stand next to her—Telae with a dark expression on her mobile features, she stares at the current Daughter-Captain. Jelena Solo stares back at her through ice-blue eyes that nearly match those that stare back at her in the looking-glass every morning. Even though her chosen ally stands tall and with broad shoulders, she is dwarfed by the blond giantess who stands opposite her.

Terias takes a deep breath next to Inasia as she sees the massive arms continuing to undo the sword belt. She looks over at Dany, who grins back at them with confidence.

Confidence that Inasia, the Covenant-Hope, only mostly feels.

[b-radley66]

Dramatis Personae for the upcoming Star War

Just a little something I put together for my OCs and main canon characters. Madness, I know.

Dramatis Personae (Main characters, original and canon - denoted):

Ahsoka Tano - [canon] (Runt) not-a-Jedi, the original Fulcrum of the Rebellion. Ex-padawan of Anakin Skywalker. Kicked his ass more than anyone has in nearly twenty years. Lost on a hidden Sith world. Sister of the Heart in Zeltron culture for five other powerful women (the Links of the Covenant Chain) and Hunt-sister in her culture of:

Jame Blackthorn (Bait) - half-assed ex-Jedi. Half-assed Corellian noble. Grown-ass Rear-Admiral in the Alliance Fleet (just under Raddus and Ackbar). 500th Covenant (Protector) of Corellia. Hunt-brother in Togruta hunt culture of Fulcrum. Once known as Taliesin Croft and Bryne Covenant. And, oh yeah, half Mandalorian and uncle to Sabine Wren, through his late wife. Brother of the heart to:

Daaineran (Dani Faygan) - Half-Zeltron, Half-Corellian. Daughter of Draq’ Bel Iblis, a once-powerful mover and shaker of Corellia who is one of their missing. Commodore in the Alliance Fleet. The oldest of the Links of the Covenant Chain. The most loving person in the universe. Once the heart-bond of Shaak Ti, Jedi Master of Taliesin Croft. Cousin by marriage of Jame Blackthorn, etc., etc. Now bonded to, but estranged from:

Lassa Rhayme - [Canon] Pantoran Outer Rim pirate and sort-of Rebel. Leader of the Blood Bone Order and captain of the Opportunity. Another Link in the Covenant Chain, the Trusted Other.

Nola Vorserrie - ex-Naboo handmaiden, survivor of a massacre of a her Queen and sister Handmaidens by the Empire, ex-Alderaani government minister, ex-Corellian charitable foundation member, and current logistician and staffer for the Rebel Alliance. Colonel (or Major, depending on whether she has pissed off Jan Dodonna or Davits Draven). Hard to know, sarcastic, but loving to her sisters of the heart and brother of the heart. Foster-sister of Dani Faygan. Pain in the ass, even to her loved ones, but will fiercely protect them. 

Meglann Florlin - Alderaani diner-owner and cook. Daughter of two Republic naval officers who died over Ryloth in the Clone War. Commander in the Alliance Navy, captain of the Jana Sloane, a one-time party-barge, Consular-class and home base for the Links in the early days of the Rebellion. The youngest of the Links of the Covenant Chain.

Delilah Sal - ISB Resident for Corellia. Sometime ally of our heroes, known as the Untrusted Other of the Links for obvious reasons. 

Blank - a former Imperial Deathtrooper. Captured by Blackthorn a decade or so ago, because his head was harder than hers. Freed from most of the brainwashing, but still with her demons. Employed on the Sundered Heart, an Alderaani medical rescue ship.

Alyssina Faygan’ii na Torstan’ii - cousin to Dani, called Sina. Zeltron healer and surgeon, ex-local politician. Married to the former Head of State of Zeltros and the fugitive Senator of Zeltros.

Cubreem Maashu-Ry - Togruta Alliance commando. Adopted son of Shaak Ti’s hunt-brother. Ahsoka and Blackthorn’s child of the hunt (an apprentice in Togruta hunt culture). 

Jamelyn Blackthorn - Jame’s niece and 457th Elector-Presumptive (the Guarantor of Freedom) of Corellia. Squadron commander of A-wings in the Alliance. 

Phygus Baldrick - failed Jedi Padawan, now champion slicer for the Rebellion. Brought to the Jedi Temple with Croft, washed out early. Pain in the ass, who is not as big of a pervert and horndog as he tries to portray himself.

Ano Lessi - Pantoran slicer, one-time employee and ward of Senator Riyo Chuchi. Painful introvert, but has somehow learned to love a painful (to everyone else) extrovert like Phygus.

[b-radley66]

Lovely fanart by the very talented @punkzcakes of my Star Wars OCs.

Fulcrum’s Pluckiest Sidekicks in the uniforms of the Honorable Company of the Companions of the Covenant-Hope of Corellia. An organization of ancient Corellian nobility, now resurrected, that covers a great deal of anti-Imperial shenanigans. (The ‘HC’ for short).

From left, Bryne Covenant, the 500th Covenant of Corellia (what passes for nobility on Corellia)—once a Jedi knight known as Taliesin Croft. His cousin-by-marriage, Daaineran Faygan, (‘Dani’), the eldest, by two months. A spy and a former cop, and now the adult supervision for them all, as well as a nine-year-old girl who is the Hope of Corellia. Nola Vorserrie, former Naboo Handmaiden, now a general pain-in-the-ass, especially to Fulcrum. Finally, Meglann Florlin, waitress/diner-owner turned chaos-bringer and up-and-coming Alderaani naval officer. She’s the youngest of them.

Really love this. Got the ‘why we fight’ feel from WWII posters. Go see @punkzcakes’s work!

[b-radley66]

Lines I Loved Writing

Or, I should say a ‘scene.’ This is from a story I’m currently writing, called No Chains Shall Sully. It’s a scene between Ahsoka and an OC, probably my main OC, with some hints of his origin. I’m kinda proud of the language and the emotions in this one, just wanted to share. It takes place about 5-6 years after Order 66. I hope that you enjoy it. 

Ahsoka chokes back a cry, remembering where she is, as well as who is asleep in the room next to this one. She comes back to herself, the Force falling away from her mind like a ripping veil. She fights to bring her breathing under control, as her heart fills. She reaches up and wipes the tears from her eyes at what the vision—maybe even a memory had shown her. 

The one image sticks in her mind—the last one, like the final picture in a holoslide presentation. She wonders if it is real; there is a sense of a dream—or a nightmare—in the vision. A nightmare because of the sense of darkness surrounding it. 

She takes a deep breath, reluctantly focusing on the three inhabitants of the vision. She chokes back a sob at the sense of doom among the two adults. She can see the flames surrounding them in the ship.

Ahsoka takes a moment to analyze the faces of the two. She’d seen a portrait of Jamestyn Blackthorn once, a full-length painting completed when he was still the holder of the Covenant Chain. She  does smile as she thinks of the features; features that are now as familiar to her as his own, with some subtle differences. But the same eyes, albeit a different hue, their warmth and laughter apparent. A different type of smile, one with power and confidence, but even with a sense of hope and empathy. 

She shifts her mind to the woman, a woman in the same style of clothing she’d seen on the New Mandalorians she’d met. A woman who’d look equally at home in beskar’gam, wielding a WESTAR and a beskad, much like Bryne’s description of his late wife, J’ohlana Wren. She closes her eyes, seeing her first look at Bryne’s mother. She sees the dark bronze skin, slightly darker than Bryne’s but with those sea-green eyes. Eyes that stare into hers—eyes that she could stare into for hours, since their feelings and emotions for one another had changed in the galley of an Outer Rim pirate-ship, over a half decade ago. She feels the tears start again as she catches her first glimpse of Nadara Shysa. From a conversation over breakfast food in some hole-in-the-wall diner; she remembers Bryne saying he’d never seen a holo of his mother. 

Something grasps her heart, nearly ripping it to shreds, as she sees the desperation on their faces, along with something else.

Resignation.

Her heart calms as she sees something else present. Hope, as they place the toddler, his eyes probably the calmest of them all, in a lifepod—one that looks like it was designed for a child. Her eyes focus on the small amulet hanging from his neck. She sees Jamestyn kiss Bryne—or Jame—by the name his parents gave him, along with Nadara. They both touch the amulet. She feels her vision shift and concentrate on the bit of beskar. She notes its size and shape—a small disk surrounded by a stylized wreath. She can just make out the triangle shape—two triangles, offset, actually, with a line bisecting it—in the middle of the two, right where the second triangle’s apex overlaps with the first. 

She realizes where she’s seen the interior symbol before. On a heavy chain on a young girl’s shoulders, in silver, rather than gold. A young girl who is the center of attention in a large keep on Jame’s homeworld. A young girl staring out at the crowd with those same wide gray eyes of her grandfather. 

Jamelyn Blackthorn. Jame’s niece, on the day that she had accepted the title of Elector-Presumptive of Corellia. The guarantor of the people’s rights, from both the tyranny of their own government and outside foes. Along with the Covenant-Hope, the Protector.

The ‘Presumptive’ aspect would disappear on her sixteenth birthday, if she was on Corellia, if she chose to accept the full authority and responsibility. 

A move that would keep Jame as the Protector and in her fight against the Empire and its darkness.

Ahsoka senses movement near her. She doesn’t start, as she feels the familiarity of the person. A familiarity she’d sensed at the edges of the vision, as if he was watching as well.

She rises and crosses over to the now-open window, engulfing Bryne in a leaping hug. They kiss for several moments. As always, she locks her eyes on his face. She rests her forehead on his when they come up for air other than their own. She can sense his pain, as well as his grief. 

“You saw?” he asks. 

“Yeah, Bait,” she replies. “What does it mean? Is it real?”

He takes a deep breath before answering. “Yeah. I think so. At least the gist of it.”

She feels a puzzled look come over her features. She waits for him to explain.

“I think it gibes with what I’ve been told by others. But I’ve never seen that amulet.” He looks down. “But I’m getting a sense of something else, as well.”

“Deception?” Ahsoka asks, her voice even.

“Yeah. Something similar, but slightly different from what I felt on Felucia, Runt. When there seemed to be so many competing versions of my master’s death in my head. Hell, in the galaxy as well.”

She digests this. “Well, Phygus did manage to find that the Imperial version gibes with one of those. That she died at the Temple.”

He says nothing for several long moments. “Yeah. But she wasn’t on Coruscant. I saw it myself.”

Her eyebrow markings raise into her headdress. “Maybe, but she was on Coruscant briefly before that. Obi-Wan told me that she’d gone there to find and protect the Chancellor when Grievous attacked.”

He sits down, heavily. His own voice chokes. “I never knew. I didn’t even feel her during the battle. I never saw her after it. One of the other ‘deaths’ that I’d heard about was that she was slaughtered by Grievous after he captured her.”

“We reconciled this, Jame,” she whispers, “it was all the Asundrance. Along with mis-direction and legend from that time.”

“I think that’s what I’m feeling now. Like I’m being manipulated.”

“By Soma Jess?”

“Maybe,” he replies. “I’ve got to figure out how to get her out of my, and by extension, your head.”

“I’m sorry, Jame,” she whispers, moving her lips to his again. “I shouldn’t have even suggested meeting with her after I met her.”

She feels him touch the tip of her nose with his lips. “No, love,” she feels against her skin, “you were trying to help me get over something I should’ve gotten over soon after it happened.”

He shakes his head, as if filing these emotions away. He breaks away, then looks out the window. “There’s something more pressing.”

Ahsoka can tell that this takes an effort, to shove aside these emotions and that knowledge.

“The Force user. The Zabrak that we encountered on Felucia. Maris Brood—the padawan who was so jealous of me being chosen as  Ti’s padawan. I saw her and sensed her, at least when I was close to her.”

He rolls his eyes as the Smirk starts on her face. “Jealous of you? From what  I’ve seen in your brain, she got over it real quickly.” She can tell that he’s waiting on further grief from her. “The Many Rides of Padawan Taliesin Croft.”

He snorts, then grows serious. “I think she’s still working for the Empire. That may be where some of, but not all the darkness is coming from. He looks into her eyes. “I think we should abort. Cut our losses and run.”

At that moment, Jillan Bykos walks in, knuckling sleep from her eyes. Ahsoka sees her silver eyes widen when they fall on Bryne, wrapped in her hunt-teacher’s arms.

“Go back to bed,” Ahsoka says quickly.

Jillan grins. “I don’t know. It suddenly seems more interesting out here. I didn’t know you had it in you, Tano.”

Ahsoka breaks free from Bryne—probably a little more forcefully than she’d meant to. She stamps her foot, wincing at the reversion to her youngling days, as she does, and points to the bedroom. “Go.”

She rolls her eyes as she sees the teenager appraising Bryne’s figure in his gardener’s outfit. Ahsoka feels Bryne’s laughter start to bubble up. 

Jillan obeys. Finally.

She shoves him, but grins sheepishly. “Great. Just what I need. A teenaged crush on you.” She grows serious, then reaches out and touches his cheek. “I can understand the feeling though.”

“That’s why you were about to tell me that we can’t leave yet. Her.”

“Or the other slaves, Bait,” she replies. 

He nods, then takes her in his arms. They are both quiet with their own thoughts. 

So many of them.

+=+=+=+=+=

[b-radley66]

Next stop on the Revision Chain. Love writing this one—a mixture of plot, adventure, and humor. Started out as a sex farce when plotting it, but some plot, some character development, and a bit of angst happened.

SChapters: 12/12 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s), Original Characters/Original Characters Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Jame Blackthorn | Bryne Covenant | Taliesin Croft (Original Character), Dani Faygan (original character), Meglann Florlin (Original Character), Nola Vorserrie (Original Character), Phygus Baldrick | Touchstone (Original Character), Null-13 | Drop | Tarre Tredecima (Original Character), Draq' Bel Iblis (original character), Tamsin (Star Wars), R7-A7 (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Family Shenanigans, Family, Love, Families of Choice, Dynastic Intrigue, Comedy of Manners (Corellian Style), Humor, Polyamory, Arranged Marriage Series: Part 25 of Rise and Fight Again Summary:

Dynastic woes on Corellia! Much to Fulcrum’s amusement, Bryne Covenant becomes embroiled in a marriage crisis for the Electoral and Covenant family on Corellia—a crisis that has a hint of Imperial design and manufacture. A wrong move in this crisis might seal Corellia’s isolation from the growing resistance movement against the Empire.

[b-radley66]

Another revision. Contraction patrol and timeline clean up. This is another of my favorites; it shows the evolution of one of the original characters, Meglann, with themes of family (of choice and of blood), as well as a look at the past and a glimpse of the future.

It also has a couple of examples of beautiful art in the chapters by the wonderful @sl-walker

Hope that you enjoy it, as much as I did writing it. NOTE: The statute of limitations didn’t run out on comments. :=)

Chapters: 21/21 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s), Original Characters/Original Characters Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Boba Fett, Xizor (Star Wars), Tamsin (Star Wars), Original Characters, Jame Blackthorn | Bryne Covenant | Taliesin Croft (Original Character), Dani Faygan (original character), Nola Vorserrie (Original Character), Phygus Baldrick | Touchstone (Original Character), Draq' Bel Iblis (original character), Null-13 | Drop | Tarre Tredecima (Original Character), Dav Kolan | ISB-010 (Original Character), Ano Lessi (Original Character), Meglann Florlin (Original Character) Additional Tags: Love, Families of Choice, Unconventional Families, Freedom, Rebellion, Personal Growth, Hope, Political Intrigue, Espionage, Dreams Lost and Found, Original Character(s) Series: Part 24 of Rise and Fight Again Summary:

Missing Family! Ahsoka Tano, Bryne Covenant and their allies must battle a criminal conspiracy that stretches from Alderaan to Corellia to Ganthel to the former Separatist capital planet of Raxus. A conspiracy that affects galactic governments, Imperial moffs, and a young woman trying to find her way in the galaxy.

A conspiracy that will lead them ultimately to a beautiful world known as Scarif.

[b-radley66]

Writing Treatment - Warning for Fluff

Just something that popped into my head a few weeks ago.

Fondor Needs No Prince—

Meglann enters the large ballroom. When she was younger—much younger, she had dreamed of a fairytale ball like this one; of being on the arm of a handsome prince or beautiful princess, in the company of beautiful, dazzling people.

Before she grew up. She wonders if she is dreaming. She feels a pinch on her arm. “Ow!” she exclaims. “What the hell was that for?” she asks the companion on her arm. She suppresses a giggle at her younger thoughts, of what might be on her arm.” Not bad, she thinks. He might pass for a handsome prince. On some world.

Most of them, she finishes the thought. She hides her smile as she looks Bryne Covenant up and down. He is clad in the dark green dress jacket—an obsolete uniform from his days as a Corellian Ranger—a now defunct organization and calling. She is fairly sure that she is a member of a successor organization.

Maybe a predecessor, as she thinks of the mythology behind the Nine Hells. She suddenly remembers that Covenant hasn’t answered her. She gives him her most imperious look, managing to stifle her sheepish grin. “I’m waiting, bud,” she says.

“Thought you might be remembering childhood dreams, Port,” he says with his easy grin. “Some fairytale poodoo.”

She feels the heat on her skin, down to her toes. She sees him gaze at the exposed skin of her collarbones and neck. She takes a deep breath under his gaze and looks down. He reaches up and lifts her chin with his index finger.

“Hey,” he says, his green eyes warm. “Pretty sure that I’ve got a fairytale princess on my arm. I got the better end of the deal.” She takes a look at the full-length mirror. Her normally untamed bronze curls are piled on top of her head, a couple of strands hanging down over her right cheek. The dark blue dress—Organa blue, trimmed in silver leaves her shoulders and upper chest bare. A strand of Mon Cala pearls, lent to her by a certain Queen of her homeworld, decorates her slender neck. A small silvered representation of a frying pan—a gift from the ‘prince’ on her arm, as well as some who could be termed her ‘princesses,’ hangs below the strand of pearls. She reaches up and fingers the talisman.

He reaches over and kisses her cheek. “I miss them, too, sweetie,” he whispers.

“I thought your Force-hoodoo was on the blink,” she whispers against his cheek, just forward of his ear.

“Maybe,” Bryne replies. “It may be that I’m feeling the same thing you are.”

She nods. “I dreamed of a handsome prince or a beautiful princess on my arm, Bryne,” she says. “I wasn’t too picky.” She feels her eyes sting. “I wish we lived in a galaxy where Ahsoka could be here with us, openly. I could certainly stand to have a beautiful Togruta princess in a gown on my arm.”

“Until she picked her nose,” Bryne says. Their shared laughter makes several of the guests look up at their entrance. Both of them unconsciously straighten as a butler droid trains its photoreceptor on them.

“His Eminence, Bryne, 500th Covenant of Corellia, and Ensign Meglann Dao, representing the Candlewick Throne of Alderaan,” the droid intones. She sees Bryne smile at the alias. Not too far from the truth, she thinks. They take several steps forward until they face the dais.

A young woman, maybe a couple of years younger than Meglann, with a smooth skull, save for a mass of silver hair gathered up in the center, smiles at them with her multi-hued eyes. She wears a similar gown to Meglann’s, save in pale purple with gold trim. Covenant bows, as Meglann copies his movement.

Yelena Dao, Yardmaster of the Aspeff-Dao shipyards of Fondor, steps off of  the dais and takes Meglann’s hands in hers. She kisses Meglann on the cheek. “Hello, cuz,” she says. “It’s good to see you.” She turns her gaze—a gaze that appears to be stabilized in dark green, at least for an instant, before morphing to blue and brown. She dips her head. “Your Eminence,” she says with a slight smile.

“Yardmaster,” he says. “It’s good to see you and visit your world when nobody seems to want to hang me as a ship-thief.”

She laughs, a musical sound to Meglann’s ears. “The night is young, Bryne. Thank you both for coming to share in my Ascension.” She looks at Meglann with a slight smirk. “Thank you for bringing me my reward, for coming to help you on Felucia.”

Meglann is treated to the dangerous eyebrow over Bryne’s left eye rising, nearly to the scars on his forehead.

“Well, I did bring you your third choice. Both Dani and Fulcrum were unable to come,” Meglann says, returning the smirk.

“Hey!”

Yelena reaches up and places her gloved finger on his lips. “Not a bad consolation prize, Meglann,” she says. “I’ll enjoy my dinner with him tonight.” She looks at Meglann. “You, too, dear. My gran will be there as well,” she says, turning and indicating another Fondorian.

Yosta Dao, inclines her head. She is older than Yelena, but looks to be almost an older sister rather than a grandmother. Her dark hair, streaked with gray, is thicker than Yelena’s, belying her half-human heritage, rather than the one-eighth of her granddaughter, but still gathered from the shaven sides.

Neither of the two women would give up who they are, to more closely resemble the bald members of the People, as the original natives of this world call themselves.

Yelena reaches up and kisses Bryne, then Meglann. “Let’s get this ceremonial poodoo over with them. I need a drink.”

Bryne grins, as does Meglann. “You sure you’re not Corellian?” he asks.

“Why would I claim to be one of those milksops?” she retorts.

“Oh, honey,” Meglann says. “It’s on.”

[b-radley66]

Another revision. Lots of connections; kinda proud of this one—didn’t need to do much editing. Takes place right after Land of Song.

Chapters: 24/24 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebellion Era Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Leia Organa, Wullf Yularen, Armand Isard, Lando Calrissian, Lassa Rhayme, Jame Blackthorn | Bryne Covenant | Taliesin Croft (Original Character), Meglann Florlin (Original Character), Dani Faygan (original character), Nola Vorserrie (Original Character), Dav Kolan | ISB-010 (Original Character), Draq' Bel Iblis (original character), Null-13 | Drop | Tarre Tredecima (Original Character), Talle Tredecima (Original Character), Tehlen Skirata (Original Character), Fenn Shysa Additional Tags: Rebellion, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Ahsoka deals with various idiots, Friendship/Love, Family Series: Part 22 of Rise and Fight Again Summary:

Ahsoka Tano will use all of her wits and training, both as a Jedi, and sometime scoundrel to recover stolen assets of Bail Organa’s embryonic rebellion on a world that holds painful memories for her. With the help of more shady connections, as well as old friends from her past, she will move to exorcised perceived failures of the past.

Meanwhile, Bryne Covenant, still recovering from injuries incurred in a dynastic dispute on Corellia*, begins his new role as Organa's Peacekeeper-General. He finds that criminal elements on Alderaan, joined with certain Imperial entanglements, are threatening the exposure of the House of Organa and the rebellion, as well as threatening a friend to both he and Ahsoka.

Both Covenant and Ahsoka, as well as other family, must deal with changing paths as they continue to build a fight against the darkness.

 *As portrayed in the present-day chapters of The Minstrel Boy: The Bud Shall Yield No Meal.

[b-radley66]

A revising fool. Cleaned up timelines and some of the writing.

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s), Shaak Ti/Original Character(s), Bail Organa/Breha Organa Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Shaak Ti, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Garm Bel Iblis, Jame Blackthorn | Bryne Covenant | Taliesin Croft (Original Character), Dani Faygan (original character), Draq' Bel Iblis (original character), Jamelyn Blackthorn (Original Character), Nola Vorserrie (Original Character) Additional Tags: Families of Choice, Love, Healing, Grief/Mourning, Corellian World Building Series: Part 21 of Rise and Fight Again Summary:

Celebration, remembrance, and renewal on Corellia.