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saphronethaleph · 5 months ago

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Midlife Crisis

In the year Fifteen of the Galactic Empire, Sheev Palpatine contemplated a glass of wine.

Proper wine. Wine from Naboo.

In his opinion, which was legally speaking the only one that mattered, he deserved this.

As he began to drink, however, Vader spoke. His dark shadow, his creation, his enforcer.

“Master,” the Sith Apprentice said. “When are you going to teach me the power to heal?”

“...what?” Palpatine asked, then put the glass down again. “What are you talking about, Vader?”

“I thought it was extremely clear,” Vader replied. “When are you going to teach me the power to heal? I realize that your memory may not be what it was, but I distinctly remember that you told me that Darth Plagueis had the ability to cause the Midichlorians to create life, and that he could even use it to keep those he cared about from dying. So. When are you going to teach me that power?”

“Why do you even want that power?” Palpatine asked.

Vader’s mask looked at him.

“I currently find myself with a great deal of time on what would be my hands if I had any,” Vader stated. “Travelling between star systems, for example. I appreciate that you are busy and do not have the time to heal me, but I would have the time to heal me if you could teach me that ability. Which is why I am asking.”

Palpatine frowned.

“If you recall, I said that, ironically, Darth Plagueis could save others, but not himself.”

“I recall that, my Master,” Vader stated. “It was very ironic.”

“There, you see?” Palpatine asked. “If you learned that power, you could save others, but not yourself.”

“I don’t think that really works, Master,” Vader said, thoughtfully. “Because Plagueis was killed in his sleep. He wasn’t using the Force, for the obvious reason that he was dead. However, I actually am alive, and consequently I can use the Force to heal myself.”

He paused. “Well, I can’t, but I could. If I were to be taught, which is… what I’m asking about.”

“You don’t like your cyborg body parts?” Palpatine asked. “I thought you’d appreciate those, since they’re manufactured. Or did I remember incorrectly that you like tinkering?”

“I would be more able to tinker if I had better hands,” Vader stated. “Master, I am beginning to suspect you are avoiding the question. When are you going to teach me the power to heal?”

“You still haven’t given me a good answer,” Palpatine said, snidely.

“I have,” Vader pointed out. “My reason is that I want you to. We’re Sith. That’s a good enough reason.”

“You have a point,” the Emperor admitted, very reluctantly. “However, I think you will find that you already know all I can teach you.”

Vader looked at him.

“I do not,” the masked Sith said.

“You do,” Palpatine countered. “The Dark Side is more about maintaining your life in a decaying husk of a body, clinging to life regardless of the cost to others or the degradation of your own physical condition, than it is about… healing.”

“Are you saying that healing would be a Light Side power?” Vader asked, and there was a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.

“No, no,” Palpatine replied, hastily. “It’s not a Light Side power either. The Light Side is about accepting the natural balance of things, like idiots, and the Dark Side is about violating the natural order of things. Using the Force to heal is unnatural.”

At that, Vader made a confused noise.

“So is healing a Light Side power or a Dark Side power, Master?” he asked.

“It isn’t either,” Palpatine replied, with a shrug. “The closest I know of is Plagueis’s ability to cling to life in a body that should be dead, which you’re already doing.”

“I see,” Vader said, thoughtfully, then turned and walked away.

“I hope you’re not disappointed, Vader,” Palpatine said, leaning back in his seat and picking up the glass of wine again. “You must realize, I never lied to you.”

“You also don’t know everything,” Vader replied. “I am taking a sabbatical.”

“A what?” Palpatine said, scowling at his wine glass because apparently he wasn’t going to get to drink it just yet. “What is one of those?”

“It’s when you leave work for a period of time,” Vader explained. “I am not expecting to be paid during that period.”

“Why are you leaving at all?” Palpatine asked, in some confusion and trying to work out what Vader was getting at.

Vader shrugged slightly.

“There’s got to be lots of Force users out there, and you’re only one Force user,” he said. “I am going to look for someone who knows how to heal. Then I will return.”

Palpatine swallowed down the order that sprang to his lips, because he was uncomfortably aware of the verbal minefield that talking with Vader could be. Especially when he’d nearly set the man off less than two minutes ago.

Really, he didn’t have much choice but to trust in Vader’s loyalty. A Vader who was angry at him would be far too dangerous.

In the year Eighteen of the Galactic Empire, Sheev Palpatine was significantly more aware of just how useful Vader’s brooding, deadly presence had been in holding the Empire together.

He hadn’t been able to just refer people to his enforcer (Vader) or his supreme commander (Vader) or his complaints department (also Vader). He’d had to do actual work, and he didn’t like it.

Becoming the ruler of the galaxy had not been something he’d done in order to do work. He even had to actually listen to Tarkin, who was a tedious little lickspittle whose only redeeming quality was his enthusiasm for the idea of blowing up planets.

Then, during a rare period of respite, he felt a familiar presence in the Force. It approached his private chamber, advancing steadily, and Palpatine actually felt something like pleasure at the idea Vader would soon be back.

Admittedly, mostly because he could offload work onto Vader again.

Then the door opened, and Palpatine smiled.

“My boy, you-” he began, then stopped.

He’d been expecting Vader still wearing his suit.

He’d been ready for Vader to be a man of about forty, fit and healthy once more after discovering some Force secret.

He had not been ready for a wolf. Especially not one ten feet tall at the shoulder, with black and red fur and scaled paws.

“...explain…?” he said, in what was supposed to be a command but which turned into more of a plea.

“I sought out many ancient Force spirits and wielders of lost and arcane arts,” Vader said, in a voice even deeper than he’d had before – which actually turned out to be possible. “Eventually, I found a way to gain a new body, unwounded and healthy, but the one who taught me only knew how to do wolf.”

He tilted his head a little. “Incidentally. I also visited my only remaining family, who are moisture farmers. I have a nephew; he likes me. I wish to tender my resignation, because I am going to kill you now and it seems only fair to give you warning.”

Palpatine sighed, because, really, this was in keeping with how the year was going.

#star wars #palpatine #another bad day for palps #darth vader

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spell-cleaver · 3 months ago

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Portrait of an Empire

Flufftober

Day 2: "Left! Other left!"

“You are being far too careful,” Sheev and Vader chorused. They looked at each other, glowered, then looked away again.

Sheev tried again: “Other pilots should get out of your way.” It was no use. Vader said that at the same time as him as well.

Luke looked at them both over his shoulder. “That’s really creepy.”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” they said together.

Sheev sighed and just kept quiet. Let Vader dig himself the next hole—and dig he did. The man was supposed to be a Sith Lord, but the way he fretted was honestly pathetic.

“You have the potential to be the greatest pilot in the galaxy,” he intoned. “The Force is your ally. Fly as fast as you feel necessary. Just make sure that if you crash, your performance justifies it.”

“No pressure,” Luke muttered.

“You do not have to be the greatest pilot in the galaxy,” Sheev told him. “You simply have to excel.”

That didn’t seem to help, either.

They flew a little farther. The red guards seated in the back behind Sheev and Vader seemed unaccustomed to this sort of turbulence; despite their stoic facades, Sheev could sense their nausea, and it amused him. Luke probably could as well, because he kept glancing back at them and slowing the speeder down minutely after he did. Then a few minutes would pass, and his natural young recklessness would take the controls again, and they would be soaring at more appropriate speeds through Coruscant.

Luke was fourteen. Human children weren’t allowed to fly themselves on Coruscant until age eighteen. The law restricting children’s movement was too useful to revoke. At the end of the day, teenagers were the Empire’s newest recruits, and he didn’t want them dying en masse in preventable speeder crashes, plus it prevented rebellious teens in a brief flirtation with the Rebellion from spreading that particular infection too far or fast. But part of Sheev still sneered at the law. On Naboo, children could fly as young as ten. He himself had been a talented racer—his handful of vehicular manslaughter charges notwithstanding—and if a pilot was too stupid to stay alive, that was simply an efficient form of natural selection.

But no, he could not change the law. Still: Sheev was sure they would make an exception for the prince. He would make sure of it.

That had given him an idea, though.

“If you wish to train your Force-enhanced reflexes and speed, racing is an excellent forum to do so,” he said. “You would enjoy it. Your father—”

“No,” Vader growled.

Sheev glanced sideways at him. He hadn’t expected that. “Do you disagree with its educational potential, Lord Vader? You were forged in that fire.”

And burned, he supposed. But not nearly as badly as he had been later.

“No,” Vader repeated.

But Luke’s ears had pricked up. “Racing? I can race?”

“You cannot.”

“I raced regularly on Naboo at your age,” Sheev continued. “Before my training, of course. Without knowing it, it honed my awareness of the Force and my own body. You will find it similar to lightsaber combat in that regard.”

“Lightsaber combat can be engaged in with training lightsabers,” Vader said.

Sheev raised his eyebrows. Luke’s face radiated disappointment at his father’s approval. “If safety is your concern,” he said, “there are always simulators.”

Vader just looked at him. There was a reason that they’d had Luke train minimally on simulators before throwing him into this real life training session for flying. The Force didn’t react the same way when danger was just pixels in your awareness. While you yourself believed the threat was real, your sixth sense knew it wasn’t. For those inexperienced in both piloting and the Force, it was confusing, not knowing whether to trust your instincts or your senses, and it slowed your impulses.

You still moved far more quickly than the usual, Force-blind pilot. But it was subpar for a Force-sensitive.

“No simulators for now,” Vader said. “No racing.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Are there… beginner races?”

“Look ahead of you.”

Luke looked back at the flightpath. Sheev smiled. It was always useful to drive a wedge between Luke and Vader. Vader was so often trying to drive one between Luke and Sheev; this evened the odds.

“Avoid that billboard on your left,” Vader said.

“Pretty sure that’s on my right—”

“Your other left, then.”

Coruscant flew by as Vader continued to give instructions, slowly growing less terse. Despite their squabble, everyone in the speeder could see how much Luke was enjoying flight. And that his favourite parts were when they went fast—faster than he’d ever been before on his own power—and in the tighter, more hairpin sections of the flight as well.

Sheev watched carefully. He picked his moment after a particularly tight, but exhilarating, turn through the industrial district, with its abandoned billboards and lack of traffic. Luke could’ve taken the route Vader gave him slowly, to give him time to approach and react. He hadn’t, of course. He’d barrelled at it as fast as he could go.

“Where I grew up, they can be obnoxiously safe,” Sheev said. “The races on Naboo may be a good training ground.”

Vader glared at him. “They are not safe. Racing is never safe.”

“You were racing at nine years old, Lord Vader.” Strange, how the galaxy worked. Had young Anakin Skywalker’s mother felt the same way about racing? Even worse, Sheev would wager. She’d been weak—without the Force. She’d had no concept of what her son was capable of.

“And I would not have my son do the same.”

But Vader should know better.

“Very well,” Sheev conceded. “As you wish.”

But it was a few short weeks before the Imperial Family was taking its regular holiday to the Lake Country of Naboo, where Sheev’s grandfatherly relationship with Luke was the only thing that laundered his image and thus had to be pursued at all costs. And while Luke was there, he dominated the Theed racing circuits.

Under a pseudonym, of course. But they all knew it was him.

“Why did you suggest that my son take up this infernal sport?” Vader demanded when he walked in on Sheev watching it live on the holonet.

“Do you worry about him?”

Vader didn’t answer that, but Sheev knew he did. The cycle of life. Horrible.

“Why?” Vader repeated.

“Why did you allow him to sneak out?”

Because there was no way that Vader hadn’t noticed Luke’s escapades. Vader had weighed the options—and let his son go. It was a maturity that surprised Sheev.

Vader wasn’t going to answer, so Sheev did. “Because,” he said gently, “we both knew he would adore it.”

His apprentice just looked at him. He didn’t believe that was Sheev’s motive at all—more likely, he thought it was an intentional ploy to pit Luke and his father against each other, and he had partly allowed Luke to race to prevent that happened Sheev could hardly blame him. He barely believed it himself.

But that was why, in that speeder with the boy, the words had sprung to his lips. He remembered flying. It had been a sense of escape—of freedom. From his father. From his home. From even the consequences of his own actions, though his father’s fury at those dead pedestrians had shown him how fleeting both the former and latter freedoms had been. But even with the years of Sith training, politics, and stalwart control separating the Emperor he was from that wild, reckless boy, he remembered the joy.

Luke should race. It would bring him joy.

The realisation disquieted him.

#portrait of an empire #luke skywalker #darth vader #sheev palpatine #for darkness shows the stars #random words on a page #my writing #flufftober2024

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nobodysdaydreams · 9 months ago

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Crack/Crangst idea you want to share?

Once again, a perfect anon, because in anticipation of Star Wars Day, my brain came up with a crack Star Wars AU and now I have an excuse to share it (it’s more crack than Crangst, but I hope you like it!)

This crack au features Anakin and Palpatine as semi-problematic grandparents in an au where Anakin never turns, but Palpatine is never discovered and keeps evilly plotting and cloning himself a son while Anakin and Padme raise their family together. Eventually, Anakin and Padme become grandparents to Ben and Palpatine becomes Rey’s problematic boomer grandpa who shows up at his son’s house on Jakku holidays in order to try to bribe is granddaughter with presents to get her to join the darkside.

Details of this AU include the following in no particular order:

Palpatine cloning himself a son and asking everyone not to question who the boy is or where he came from

Anakin and Padme congratulate Palpatine on his son. Even though Palpatine is fuming because his son is powerless but of course Anakin’s children are some of the most powerful in the galaxy, he has to pretend to be a good father, for the sake of public appearances. He’s really bad at it.

Palpatine initially plans on naming his son “clone attempt 53” or something until his advisors tell him it will look bad if he doesn’t give his son an actual name. Palpatine lazily picks the first name he thinks of and then forgets it and continuously calls his son by the wrong name.

Palpatine’s adult son has to give his dad multiple talks about boundaries and why he shouldn’t be telling his ten-year-old granddaughter Sith legends as bedtime stories

Palpatine (reading a bedtime story to five year old Rey): “Tell me child, have you ever heard of the tragedy of Darth Plageuis the wise? It’s not a story your weak and powerless father would tell you.”

Rey’s Father (yelling from the hallway): “Dad, you know I can hear you, right?”

When it comes to Rey, Palpatine is thrilled that his creepy evil Sith experiments FINALLY created a grandchild with the power he desires, only to discover that power comes with a force bond to, you guessed it, another Skywalker. (Palpatine’s hatred for the Skywalker family grows with every passing generation he fails to turn to the dark side).

Han would for sure make a comment about Sheev being old and say something like “isn’t it weird this guy never seems to die even though he was like super old when Anakin was a kid? And how does he randomly have a son? Where did that guy even come from?” These comments drive Palpatine crazy, but Han is Leia Organa (or Leia Skywalker in this AU)’s husband so he gets away with it. (Also Han regularly almost exposes Palpatine’s plans by making casual jokes. This is not on purpose, Han has no clue what’s going on, and he just sort of roams around the senate building while his wife is in meetings causing trouble and speaking out of turn without a care in the world, but Palpatine grows weary of him and constantly has to change his plans because he thinks Han must be onto him but really Han is just snooping around cause he’s bored).

To Palpatine’s utter disappointment, Rey loves the Jedi. An elderly Anakin specifically takes her under his wing, as she reminds him of a young Ashoka. Plus they both grew up in poverty on a desert planet (because Rey’s dad moved out as soon as he could) so I think they’d have a lot to talk about. I can see Anakin showing up to Luke’s Jedi school specifically to take the kids on fun and dangerous missions and Luke can’t say anything against it because it’s his own dad doing this. I like to imagine Anakin and Rey, impulsive little sand orphans that they are, running around on Jedi missions getting messy and ruining their clothes while Padme and Ben (who would bond over their love of fashion and dramatically stylish capes) always look like they’re trying to be on the cover of a fashion magazine. Also you can’t tell me Padme wouldn’t dress her little grandson, baby Benny, up in the cutest little outfits.

Little Ben, Finn, and Rey go to Jedi training together and Palpatine tries his best to get Rey to spill secrets on Luke and his other students to figure out how to turn them. He teaches her to use force lightening and tries to get her to use it against her classmates but instead Rey teaches her new trick to her friends, who accidentally zap Palpatine in the face. He is not amused. Han accidentally makes jokes about his appearance at a senate meeting in front of a microphone that was left on.

In a last ditch desperate effort to get his apprentice, Palpatine invites himself to Luke’s Jedi school, and when Luke is distracted, he tries to bribe Ben, Rey, and Finn into joining the dark side using the promise of things kids like, including toys and candy. He tried the same thing with Luke and Leia when they were young and it fails both times

There is a point where everyone (eventually) figures out Palpatine is evil, but by then, Palpatine is so old and out of it, it doesn’t really matter. There’s one time where he dramatically tries to stand up and take the energy from Rey and Ben’s force bond at a family party, but then his old man knees give out and he topples over and falls asleep in his chair. I’m not much of a Reylo shipper, but I do think it would be funny if he tried this during the objections portion of their wedding and Poe and Finn have to awkwardly and uncomfortably escort him out like wedding bouncers. I also think it would be funny if during this he yelled something like “Fools! I am all the Sith!” or “You will find that it is YOU who are mistaken!” or “Stand together… die together!” with zero context and shoots forth the teeniest weakest little flash of force lightening he can muster and everyone just writes him off as being an old person who’s starting to lose it.

Might add more later but I hope this finds its target audience.

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

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Midday Blooms - Lilacs and Daffodils

Years after the Sith took control of Coruscant, the Coruscanti Citizens live on a series of Space Stations surrounding the planet, waiting for the day when they're allowed to return home. When it's safe to return home. The Clones, elite soldiers born of the DNA of Lord Jango Fett, make up the large majority of the fighting force, though not the entirety. And after it comes out that Lord Fett had elected to side with Count Dooku, a fallen Jedi Master, and that both men were pawns of none other than Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine, the men are freed from the chips, and any compulsions that would have them turn on the jedi, and the civilians they protect so ably. But even now the war rages on. The soldiers, and their Jedi Generals, rotate three month deployments to Coruscant, in the hopes that one day, they will be able to live on the planet that glitters over their heads. This is very tangentially a war story. Because I cannot write action. But I will do my best. Tagging: @starrrgazingbunny Ships: Marshal Commander Neyo x OC, Marshal Commander Bacara x OC

Nebula Space Station

Bell Manor - 10:00 am

“It’s only a matter of time,” Doctor Dee Bell said excitedly to his daughter as he waved his morning toast around over his head. He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, that some of the jam had fallen off the bread and landed on his white jacket. “You’ll see, Talia! Someday soon, we’ll be able to resettle Coruscant.”

Talia shook her head in amusement, “Father, you’ve been saying that for years, and the soldiers are no closer to retaking Coruscant from the Sith today then they were when I was six,”

“Bah! That’s only because Lord Fett decided to throw his weight behind Dooku.”

“We’re fortunate that the Jedi figured out his plan before Palpatine enacted it,” Talia pointed out as she took a sip of her tea, and then made a face. Cold, yuck. “Though it’s a shame that Knight Skywalker decided to throw his weight behind Palpatine.”

“He’s an idiot. And he’s on the losing side.” Her father countered, “Why, even Senator Amidala has been denouncing his actions since the day he defected, and she’s the mother to his children.”

He trailed off as he finally remembered that he was in the middle of eating, and he took a bite of his, now plain, toast. And then he paused and squinted at Talia, “Don’t you have a Salon you’re supposed to go to today?”

“...No.” Talia lied, badly. Damn it, she was hoping he had forgotten about the Cunningham Salon.

“Talia,”

Aw, man. The Disappointed Dad voice.

“You cannot skip Betty’s Salon, she’s always so happy when you go and visit.”

“Yeah, but she’s awful.”

“She’s lonely.”

“She insults Ophelia constantly.”

“Maybe Ophelia deserves it.”

“Dad!”

“What? I know she’s your friend, but she is a bit of a wild child!”

“She’s calmed down a lot since we were in Finishing School, dad. You know she’s working at her father’s company now, right?”

“Is she really?” Her father looks surprised, “Huh, well. Even so, you should go get dressed for the party. You should wear the purple dress your grandmother bought you.”

“I look awful in purple.” Talia whined, acting much younger than her 22 years.

“Nonsense, you love purple. It’s your favorite color! And you look beautiful in it!”

“That’s worse! Betty will just accuse me of showing her up at her own Salon.”

“Nonsense. Now go and get dressed.”

Talia rolled her eyes, but allowed her father to propel her out of her seat and to the stairs. She supposed there was no way out of it now. Stupid dad actually remembering shit at inconvenient moments.

Still, it wouldn’t take her longer than, maybe, half an hour to get herself dressed and her hair and make-up done. Maybe she would go all out and put fresh flowers in her hair, rather than pulling it up into a fancy updo.

She would have to send Ophelia a message. Her best friend always was good at coming up with ways to make Betty look like the hag she was.

*********

Marshal Commander Neyo was not happy.

In his defense, he was rarely happy. Being a Marshal Commander often came with more responsibilities than rights, and he had spent the last three months on rotation on the front lines.

He was exhausted.

Down to his bones.

All he wanted to do was retire to the apartment the Government gave him, and sleep for the next 9 months, until his next rotation to Coruscant started.

But no.

He couldn’t.

Because Fucking Faie agreed to a fucking Salon.

He didn’t even know what a Salon was. A party of some kind, based on the fact that he was required to wear his dress uniform.

He scowled at the pure white uniform. It was perfect, of course, and covered in medals and awards that meant jack-shit in any real world scenario. He hated it. He was much more comfortable in his armor. Hell, even his blacks would be preferable to wearing that get-up.

“Don’t be such a grouch,” Faie said with a roll of his eyes. He was already wearing his dress uniform. “We’re going to be rubbing shoulders with high class ladies.”

Neyo considered shoving him out the window. He would probably get another medal of service for it.

“Lovely,” Bacara said in monotone, “Just how I wanted to spend my first day decompressing from battles. Schmoozing with the rich and lazy.”

“It’ll be fun.” Faie insisted.

“Your idea of fun used to be reading Reg manuals,” Neyo pointed out snidely.

Faie gasped, “He talks!”

The urge to shove him out the window got stronger. “Wow. It’s sad that you think you’re funny.” Neyo said.

Faie rolled his eyes again. Neyo hoped his eyes got stuck that way. “Look, we finally have rights. We might as well take advantage of them. Besides, Bly is coming too.”

Bacara’s fingers slipped on one of his buttons, “You managed to convince him to step away from General Secura long enough to flirt with rich ladies?”

“Of course not. General Secura ordered him to come.”

Oh. That made sense.

Wait-

“I thought Bly was about to rotate to Coruscant,” Neyo said absently, as though he was commenting on the weather.

“He was supposed to, but General Secura was injured, so her battalion and the Wolfpack switched places.” Bacara replied as he finished buttoning his jacket and made sure that his ribbons were straight, “Hurry up, Neyo. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can make our escape.”

Neyo was pretty sure that was a damned lie, but it was a nice lie, so he finally pulled his jacket on and started buttoning it. Stupid brothers. Always getting him involved in stupid shit.

Maybe there would be good food at this party, if nothing else.

******

Talia stepped out of the speeder and thanked her father’s droid with a kind smile. She had been in luck, mother’s lilac bush was still in bloom, which meant she had been able to weave the delicate purple flowers through her braid.

And they matched her dress and sandals. One point for Talia and none for Harpy Betty.

She cast her gaze around, and a bright smile crossed her face when she saw Ophelia waiting for her. She looked annoyed, though no one else would think that, as her friend had mastered the art of hiding her emotions behind a fan.

Her entire face brightened, though, when she saw Talia. Ophelia snapped her fan shut, and stepped over to her. “Tali, darling, I thought you weren’t coming!” She hugged Talia tightly.

“Sorry, there was awful traffic by the spaceport.” Talia smiled warmly, her gaze lingering on the crown of daffodils that Ophelia had perched on top of her neat, platinum blonde, hair. “You decided on yellow, then?”

Ophelia stepped back and twirled for Talia, showing off her vibrant yellow dress, “Betty told me that yellow wasn’t my color due to my hair,” She said, “So I decided to be petty.”

Talia’s smile became so achingly fond as she regarded her best friend of twenty years, “You’re always petty.” She said, warmly.

“Pssh. You were the one who suggested real flowers, rather than ribbons.” Ophelia grinned, “I already got a comment about my daffodils, from Anne, of course.”

“Oh? What did she say?”

“That it was unbecoming of me to try and show up Betty at her own Salon.” Ophelia rolled her eyes, “I could wear a trash bag, and still show her up.” She hooked her arm with Talia’s and tugged her towards the garden entrance, “It’s because she has the personality of a sewer rat.”

The pair stepped into the garden, and were immediately overwhelmed by the scent of roses. “Ew.” Talia whispered, “Roses, really? And red ones?”

Ophelia leaned in, “I heard that she’s hunting for a husband.”

“At a Salon?”

“Mm. She invited some of the men who recently returned from Coruscant.” Ophelia replied, as she cast her gaze around the garden, “Though I doubt they’re here yet.”

“Oh, Talia you made it-” Betty hurried over and stopped, her gaze locked on the flowers in Talia’s hair, and then her gaze drifted to the flowers in Ophelia’s hair, “You made it.” She finished, sounding very annoyed.

“There was awful traffic, Betty,” Talia said sweetly, like she had no idea that Betty was annoyed with her, “I suppose it makes sense with so many men returning from Coruscant yesterday.”

Betty flushed, the unheard condemnation heard loud and clear. “Ophelia, I’m surprised at you. Did I forget to mention how washed out yellow makes you look at my last Salon?”

Ophelia smiled winsomely, her yellow fan coming out and snapping open in front of her mouth and nose, “Mother made this dress for me, Betty. Surely you don’t expect me to disrespect her?”

Ophelia’s mother was a fashion designer of some renown. Well, she designed the gowns that the ladies of the senate wore on a daily basis, so “some” renown was rather an understatement.

“Your mother should know better than to dress you in yellow,” Betty sniffed.

“I’ll be sure to mention it.” Ophelia replied. “Come along, Talia. I see Elizabeth over by the tea, and I’m sure that Betty has other people she needs to greet.”

Talia allowed Ophelia to direct her over to the tea table, where Elizabeth most assuredly wasn’t. The third part of their little trio from Finishing School stopped coming to these events as soon as she turned 18. With her mother’s blessing, of course.

Talia and Ophelia hadn’t been so lucky, tragically.

“Have you spoken to Elizabeth recently?” Talia asked as soon as Betty was out of earshot.

“I have, she’s met a man,” Ophelia grinned wickedly, “A soldier, named Gree. Apparently he’s as sweet as sugar and dotes on her.”

“I’m glad for her,” Talia said loyally.

“I think it’s boring.” Ophelia whispered as she handed a teacup to Talia, and then took one for herself.

“Hm. Have you heard from your gentleman lately?” Talia asked, innocently.

Ophelia looked disgruntled, “He returned yesterday, but he said that he had been roped into something today, so I’m not going to see him until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“You poor thing. How will you survive?” Talia teased.

Ophelia shot her a look, and then her shoulders slumped, “I haven’t seen him in three months, and I wasn’t even able to greet him yesterday because he has responsibilities. It’s not even fair.”

“As if your father would okay you going to meet a man, any man, on your own.” Talia points out as she snags one of the picnic tables for them to share, “You’re lucky your mother approves.”

“Mother loves him. She’s been designing my wedding dress since I was three, of course.” Ophelia said warmly, “Of course, the moment she finds out that I’m already married, all bets are off.”

Talia laughed. She opened her mouth to say something when there was a commotion from the entrance of the garden.

*******

Neyo decided immediately that he hated roses. He hated the look and the scent. And he really, really hated the woman who dressed herself to look like a rose. Who was simpering over Faie like he deserved anything more than being shoved out a window.

At least most everyone else was dressed in more pastel colors. He saw several pinks, quite a few blues and greens, and more than one pastel yellow. This woman was the only one wearing wine red.

She stood out. And not in a good way.

“Neyo, this is Miss Betty Cunningham. This is her party,” Faie said, his glare practically screaming at him to be nice.

“Nice to meet you.” Neyo replied in a flat voice, everything about his screaming I don’t want to be here.

He took it as a victory when the red woman faltered under his unimpressed stare, and she turned to focus her attention on Bacara and Bly…neither of whom were paying attention to her.

Bly was staring at his chrono, likely wondering how long he had to remain at the party to not be seen as rude when he left. Neyo was sure that General Secura told him he had to stay for at least an hour.

Bacara, though-

Huh. Bacara was staring at something across the garden.

Neyo followed his gaze, and landed on a young woman, dressed in vibrant yellow, with yellow flowers in her hair. A young woman who was well aware of Bacara’s stare, as her face was glowing red. Her companion, a young woman in pastel purple with purple flowers in her hair, looked like she was trying not to laugh.

Neyo glanced over at his brother, who was now playing with something around his neck. That something, Neyo knew, was a wedding band. Something Bacara had admitted to him late one night, after a particularly bad day on Coruscant.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Neyo hissed, “Go talk to your wife before she implodes.”

Bacara shot him a relieved look, and slipped away from the group of men, and across the garden. Laser focused on the yellow woman, who stood and greeted him with a tight hug.

Neyo was amused to note that the red woman flushed an angry shade of red when she saw that. He decided to take a note from his brother’s book in this case, and make a tactical retreat.

Neyo found himself near the back of the garden, by a rather large, and gaudy looking, fountain. A fountain that was covered in red roses. What was with that woman?

“It’s hideous, isn’t it?” Neyo turned and flickered his gaze slightly down to regard the young woman standing several feet behind him, she smiled at him apologetically, “The Fountain, I mean.”

She stepped up next to him, her gaze remained locked on the fountain. She smelled softer, like the purple flowers in her hair. It was nice, compared to the overpowering scent of roses. “What is her obsession with roses?” Neyo asked.

She laughed, a bubbly noise that made Neyo want to make her laugh again. “The roses are new,” She said, once her laughter calmed, “Generally you can tell what kind of mood Betty is in based on the flowers she decorates her garden with.”

“And what do red roses mean?” Neyo asked warily.

“That she’s looking for a husband,”

Fuck.

She laughs again, and Neyo’s panic fades a little. “I don’t think you need to worry,” She reassures, “I think you intimidate her.”

“Thank fuck for that.” He paused, “Do I intimidate you?”

She released a thoughtful hum, and then looked up at him with a bright smile, “I’ve never been intimidated by a man in my life.”

That was…unfairly attractive, actually, Neyo decided after a moment of thought.

“Marshal Commander Neyo, of the 91st Battalion.”

Her smile widened, “Talia Bell. It’s very nice to meet you, Commander.”

“Neyo.”

Delight flickered across her face, “Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Neyo.”

He decided, then and there, that he liked the way his name sounded on her tongue. Plans flickered through his mind, as his entire world shifted a little bit. “So, Talia,” He liked her name. It suited her, “What kind of flowers are these?” He brushed his fingers against one of the purple blossoms in her hair.

She considered him for a moment, and then she motioned for him to duck his head. Talia pulled a single blossom bunch from her hair, and lightly tucked it behind his ear, “They’re lilac blossoms,” She said, “And now we match.”

Well then.

A slow smile crossed his face, “If we match,” Neyo said slowly, his gaze locked on her face, “Then I suppose it’s okay for me to ask if you want to leave.”

She laughed, and leaned closer to him, the scent of lilacs swirled around them. “I know how to get to the back gate open,” Talia said brightly, “And there’s a nice little restaurant not far from here that has the best sandwiches on the station. If you’re interested?”

He was definitely interested. In more than just sandwiches. “It sounds like a good start,” He says instead, “Do you mind if I ditch the jacket at my barracks though?”

She shook her head, and then offered him her hand, her eyes sparkling in the midday sun. “Come on, Neyo. Let’s go have some real fun.”

Half made plans solidified into something solid. Something real.

Neyo smiled and took her hand, “Lead the way, Sarad.”

#star wars #star wars au #sorta regency au?#Midday Blooms #Neyo x oc

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hotcupoteckla · 3 months ago

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Palpatine was a Master Manipulator.

He also mentored Padme abd the Clone Wars loved to depict details about either one suspecting Palpatine and the other being all, "The Senator?!? But he's a Good Guy!!" So all sources around Anakin are telling him this dude is trustworthy even when he's not sure.

Sheev also linked their life forces via the healing power he learned from his master, and Anakin drained Padme of her life force. He would totally throw that into Anakin's face whenever he gets the chance.

Actually, I feel a lot of the fan base who AREN'T on AO3 think about this relationship a lot and I'm sure there's some 50 shades of grey esque slash in there for you to delve into these themes, but I feel the Robot Chicken Papa Palpatine accurately depicts what this relationship is like for both sides.

Vader needs Palpatine, Palpatine uses/abuses Anakin.

Vader needs him, trusts him, they are the only two who can speak to each other without Vader flying off into incandescent rage. Until Luke shows up, everytime we see Vader he is killing someone or just on the verge. He hates meetings. He hates committees. He hates paperwork. Everything is pain to him.

Meanwhile, Palpatine offers reprieves and opera house stories less and less often.

He is disappointed in Vader for not having killed him off yet, and at Vader's general inability to maintain control of himself, which to Sheev is tantamount to being a Sith Master.

Vader can't even heal anyone or unleash the true power of the force, despite his natural power in the force, as though somehow, Vader is stunted by his rage that he can't get past or let go of. He's a marvelous Bezerker, but cannot be trusted with advanced powers, so they are not taught, as Sheev cannot trust what Anakin will do with them once known. It's natural to hate one's master, it's the Sith way.

What is unnatural is how much Vader needs Palpatine and how his every feeling and thought permeates the space around him, projecting every stray mote in his head until nobody is left in any doubt of where he stands: in hateful disagreement.

It is a good thing that Padme's son was discovered instead of Anakin's daughter - Sheev would have never let go of the perfect heir.

He was already too excited over how he wanted to corrupt Luke, that he revealed his desires to Vader, as though Vader no longer mattered.

Sheev would have given Leia his own Saber to slay Vader and take Vader's place, given how she could control her thoughts and feelings and sense the motives of others so keenly. After all, he's been waiting 16 to 19 years for Vader to do the same.

the thing is that palpatine was an absolutely integral central figure in anakin’s life for 36 fucking years, and for HALF OF HIS LIFE palpatine was literally the only person he had at all, and no one wants to delve into it and it makes me feel insane. like that is half his fucking life. more than half!!! palpatine was the most consistently present figure in anakin’s life for the fucking majority of it!!!! anakin loved him, anakin trusted him so deeply he could tell him things he felt like he couldn’t even tell padmé, anakin regarded him as a parental figure, anakin spent half his fucking life completely subservient to him to the most horrific degree, and people talk about the manipulation and call it grooming but it feels like very few are willing to acknowledge the emotional depth of the relationship on anakin’s end because it’s icky. every fix it au is just like “palpatine dies and everything is fine forever” and his constant looming presence is treated like a footnote or a generic mentorship or whatever but it’s not that!!! it’s actually so much worse than that!!!! like i need everyone to actually acknowledge the immense emotional weight this relationship has to anakin like PLEASE

#anakin skywalker #sheev palpatine #star wars #keat.txt

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fanfic-obsessed · 2 years ago

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They can be less subtle?

Ok, here is another funny one to make up for the more serious idea I had last. So it is generally accepted that Padme and Anakin were not subtle about the relationship or marriage. That a full half the Jedi were involved with bets about their marriage and when Mace Windu would finally snap and throw him through a wall, screaming for Padme Amidala to come collect her husband. It is also generally accepted that they absolutely think they are being subtle, they think no one knows about their marriage.

Let’s take this to the ridiculous. Like they are 1000% less subtle then in anything resembling cannon. Their marriage is so well known that not even Sidious is using it against anyone. They are so far from subtle that even he is telling Anakin to come clean to the Jedi council (he may have placed some bets of his own, ok).

The field that they married in was private property, the large, popular park less than a click away was not. Plus R2D2 put their marriage holos behind a paywall on the holonet, the little robot bought a small moon on what the Jedi paid alone (he was kind enough to send free copies to Obi Wan, Palpatine, Padme’s family, and Padme’s handmaidens).

Picture this, the setting is sometime mid war in one of the many lobbies of the senate building. Sheev Palpatine is staring across the narrow room, locked eyes with Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi. Five feet to the right, just inside of both their field of vision, in front of the Force, the cameras, and what felt like a third of the Senate, Anakin and Padme are reuniting from four days apart. You would think they had been apart for four months (and Palpatine is a little disappointed with Padme, where was the discretion he had so painstakingly trained into her).

Next to Kenobi, Mace Windu has his head buried in his hands, almost bent over. Jedi Master Yoda is outright staring intensely at the couple (not in shock, but to see if they will notice). Kenobi and Palpatine have been staring at each other for eight minutes and there have already been 6 husband/wife mentions in voices that could have been heard a dozen layers down, 4 references to the supposedly secret wedding (they never noticed the large crowd watching from less than a click away), and no less than 20 separate giggling attempts to sush the other, claiming that no one could know. The Jedi have been approached by 16 different assorted beings who belonged at the Senate to ask them about the Amidala/Skywalker marriage, as well as how in love the couple seemed and more than half of those were physiologically incapable of perceiving human emotions.

And now they were cuddling, in public. Frankly it would seem less obscene if they were having sex right there. With every word Sheev could see Kenobi’s exasperation and exhaustion grow.

Anakin and Padme turned, at one point directly facing the three Jedi, and walked out of the building hand in hand. Kenobi let out a sigh that seemed to have the weight of a temple.

Sheev made a mental note to himself, he really would have to do something nice for Kenobi before killing him.

#star wars au #star wars the clone wars #sheev palpatine #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #anidala #padme naberrie

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago

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I like the fact that Master Mundi got to marry for Pre-Approved Reasons because it means that there is room for characters to get married for 'saving a world' reasons which means hell yeah political marriage plots are a go.

(Not Anakin and Padme, they have no valid excuses unless the Force shows up like 'I want grandbabies.')

But the "someone marries a Mandalorian for a truce" stuff? That's Good.

"Marries a clone to secure their citizenship" could be approved.

"Marries a Mandalorian to prevent a war" could be approved.

"Marries a darksider because [flips through excuses book] Ventress is willing to defect but Mother Talzin insists on Nightsister magicks to prevent the Jedi from backstabbing her girl and for some reason this requires a marriage, but those magicks will extend to Dooku not being able to harm the Jedi anymore because he's thematically Ventress's grandfather" could be approved. Heavily questioned and side-eyed, but approved.

So discord went wild with that last one and I'm going to transcribe it below. (I've excluded some tangents that I felt didn't fit the concept I initially presented, but it's otherwise word for word.)

purreve (on tumblr as @purronronner) oh my gd I love that last one

Fix Fic Craving Personified (on tumblr as @lizasweetling) the last one is extremely funny

purreve especially if Dooku doesn’t find out until the next time he has a showdown with the Jedi

Fix Fic Craving Personified god, he'd be so lucky that the jedi probably wouldn't kill him for just talking I wonder if it would let them attack him if it came to that?

purreve they get into a fight and Dooku just keeps missing

Fix Fic Craving Personified if he's stuck because he's in the magic catagory with Ventress- it's possible they just can't the missing option has great comedy potention

Evaar'la Alii'striil (13RS) (on tumblr as @dracothulhu) okay but you know Obi-Wan would be a little shit and just stand still and smirk at him

purreve one of them stops fighting just to be a dick and deliberately lets him get his saber right up against them but he can’t push it that last inch oh yes it’s absolutely obi wan you’re right

Fix Fic Craving Personified deeply frustrating and confusing he doesn't get why he's not this hesitant is he??? He doesn't think so??

purreve and then he goes “what the fuck” and then they go “Ventress married a Jedi” and then he still goes “what the fuck” because what kind of non sequitur??? it’s not a non sequitur get fucked :)

Evaar'la Alii'striil (13RS) it's a special kind of Nightsister magick designed to enforce peace-making/feud-ending political marriages not very feud-ending if the in-laws murder each other anyway

purreve ....in that case, does this extend to everyone under dooku’s authority

Evaar'la Alii'striil (13RS) I'd say "only the family" which also doesn't include Palpatine because get fucked Sheev

purreve as some unintended consequence of like. well we don’t want them to murder each other so we can’t let them hire assassins or whateverthefuck either

𝙰𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚔 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚐𝚜 (on tumblr as @atagotiak) Anakin is probably kinda disappointed he can’t kill Dooku I feel like you def couldn’t say, order someone to kill people under this nightsister thing.

Evaar'la Alii'striil (13RS) my reasoning is there needs to be enough of a connection to count - broadly speaking the Jedi all care for each other and Dooku and Ventress have some kind of emotional connection, but Palps is a weasel who doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself not to say that there's not potential for hilarity either way, though!

phoenixyfriend "Wait I can't kill any of the Jedi? Guess I'll just kill your soldiers, then." "NOT IF A JEDI DECIDES TO BE A LIVING SHIELD." "For pity's sake, Skywalker." Dooku: What happens if I just... disown Ventress? Mother Talzin: [worrying laughter that heavily implies awful consequences] You wouldn't be the first to try that route. Dooku: ...ah.

phoenixyfriend Who does Ventress even marry Like my first thought is usually Quin, but.

#Ventress #asajj ventress #Count Dooku #Dooku #Mother Talzin #Yan Dooku #Obi Wan Kenobi #phoenix posts #arranged marriage au #political marriage #magic #oh also I guess #Ki Adi Mundi #Anakin Skywalker

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sl-walker · 3 years ago

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If I may ask; what is your opinion of Rebel's Era (canon) Maul?

Whilst I didn't feel like he was written out of character per se and I understand that Rebels aired prior to TCW Season 7, I felt like it was somewhat disappointing after what happened during Order 66.

I understand that he has lost hope and is, very reasonably, afraid of Sheev, but there's a few things that confuse me like the fact that whilst running the biggest criminal empire he never looked for Kenobi prior to Rebels (he knew Ashoka survived, so why shouldn't Kenobi?) or how exactly he ended up on Malachor and nobody came to look for him their criminal boss. Now the Dathomir-part was actually interesting, but I do feel, yet again, like it could have used more exposition and explaination considering he was there like 3x times in his entire life and everyone's dead, so who even sustained the Ichor after Talzin's death? Maul wasn't on Dathomir for at least some time.

It just felt like they knew Maul would draw in viewers, not like they had a plan for his character and that was kind of a pity?!

Obviously Maul couldn't interfere with pre-existing canon but at some point I really wondered why he was still in the story considering that Ezra's literal use of the darkside, due to Mauls prior influence & the holocron, for what we can assume to be months never mattered again after a single episode for some reason.

I love seeing Maul but I wished they did more with his character? I mean, it hurts to read e.g. Son of Dathomir, but it's still good and builds his character.

The only major thing I found consistent was him missing Savage, which obviously just broke my heart.

Dying by Kenobi's hand was poetic, but of course really sad and I wished there had been more to this scene - either conveyed through animation/dialouge or by having them part ways differently.

Also I can't believe Maul - a criminal mastermind - didn't manage to figure out that Kenobi was on Tatooine after seeing Twin Suns for almost the majority of a season. You know. The guy who used to track and hunt down whomever Sidious required him too for years. The same zabrak that basically ran a prison into the ground in lockdown whilst not/barely even touching upon his force powers and finding the dealer who managed to stay undercover for probably decades. Also the planet they literally first met.

I know the creators and Sam Witwer have repeatedly liked Maul to Sisyphus, but I don't think this applies to Rebel's Maul. Rebel's Maul, besides his motivation/need to find a new brother apprentice, just seems so hopeless and borderline suicidal? He doesn't know if it's worth trying anymore, which makes the idea of running a criminal empire so odd, seeing as he knows his insignificance to Sidious, whose downfall is all he is really yearning/hoping for. I know that his desperation always rivals his intense need to survive, but I really didn't got the latter from Rebels.

Idk, maybe it's just me, but I'm very keen on your thoughts.

(2/2) I'm asking you in particular about Rebels Maul because I feel like maybe I might be missing something or am lacking a certain insight into his character which you might have.

I think Solo made about as much sense as tits on a boar. I even said that when it came out. Maul's whole purpose to building a criminal empire was to have enough power to get to Kenobi. He had no interest in being rich or anything else, and frankly, even in TCW, he left Almec to run things on Mandalore while he nursed his grudge. So this whole Crimson Dawn crap is just-- weak. It makes no sense. It was fanservice.

I'm sure I've written my opinions on Rebels before, but in brief:

1.) Maul's characterization wasn't terrible, but the writing was super fucking lazy. No kidding. Especially his ending. That was Filoni basically splooging all over himself about how dEeeEEeP he was being without realizing... man, nothing here even makes sense. He took a character he didn't create and didn't want to bring back in the first place and giggled to himself behind his stupid hat because he got to kill him off. Since Disney's shit, they're like, "Oh, sure."

2.) Maul already hurt Kenobi and took his revenge when he skewered Satine. Like you, I think the only reason he would have sought Kenobi out would have been because he wanted closure. Be it death or simply some ending. I explored what would have happened had Kenobi been a proper adult and apologized for his part in Maul's suffering when I wrote In defiance, because I absolutely believe they could have done some considerably more interesting with all of that.

3.) Honestly, like-- every time they've killed Maul off in canon, it's been a dumbass mistake. Because he's popular and once you close-end a character, it becomes a lot harder to do anything meaningful with them in canon. Because they offed him, he will never have a genuinely meaty storyline again and will forever be relegated to cheap cameos that capitalize on his popularity.

Dunno if that's what you're looking for Anon-buddy. Mostly, I just think the ending of Maul in Rebels came down to super lazy writing.

#salt mines

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sonoftatooine · 4 years ago

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Whumpay 2021

DAY 14: SLAMMED INTO A WALL

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine

Warnings: Physical assault

Summary: When Palpatine reveals himself as a Sith, Anakin makes a different call. It doesn’t go well.

***

Anakin felt the back of his head connect sharply with the Chancellor's ornate carved wall as he was slammed backwards from the strike he had been about to deliver and pinned beneath the crushing force of Darth Sidious' will like a butterfly trapped on display in a collector's glass case. He saw stars, his still lit lightsaber slipping from his hand and drawing a burning score across the blood red carpet below him as it fell to the ground. Groaning in pain, he tried to fight against the agonising, unrelenting Force grip that held him in place, but Sidious' power was absolute, indomitable. It was as if he were throwing his own power against an impenetrable wall, like the spews of lava falling harmlessly against the shields of a facility on Mustafar, and no matter how he struggled, he could not escape.

Sidious. Palpatine. The kindly Chancellor Palpatine who had always had time to spare to listen to him ever since he was a young child, no matter how trivial his conversation must have seemed to a man who was in charge of the entire galaxy. Palpatine who kept his secrets. Palpatine who had goaded him into killing Dooku, who had revealed himself to be the Sith Lord at the heart of the war that he had lost so many good men in, that had both built him up and whittled him down to half of what he was. Palpatine who had lied to him, had used him for as long as he could remember, along with so many others who he had pretended friendship with. The Jedi. Padmé. He snarled like a cornered anooba as the man approached him, wishing that he did not have the same face, the same gentle smile that he had worn before he had revealed the truth. He wished that he would snarl and rage back, show his true colours. Not look upon him with such unaffected disappointment, even after Anakin had tried to attack him, even while he held him prisoner against a carved stone wall that had probably cost more than Anakin himself had when his value had still been counted in wuipipi.

“You poor, deluded fool.” Despite his words, Palpatine's tone held more pity than anger. “To think that you could strike me down. As if I would ever allow it.”

A twinge in the Force and Anakin's lightsaber was flying into the man's outstretched hand. The old Sith held it up, examining it from all angles before turning off the blade with a smirk. Anakin fought down the urge to shudder. He remembered Obi-Wan's constantly repeated maxim. This weapon is your life. His life in the hands of a Sith. Oh Force—

“I have to admit, this was not the eventuality I expected,” Palpatine said conversationally, as if he were merely remarking on how cloudy Coruscant was this time of year. “Accounted for, yes, but I did not actually expect to have to use any of my contingency plans. Well done, Anakin—you've surprised me.”

“Do I get a prize?” Anakin gritted out.

He let out a yelp, more from shock than pain, as Palpatine drew back and struck him sharply across the cheek with the hilt of his own lightsaber. He felt his skin split, a trickle of blood trailing down from the cut left on his cheekbone.

“I had expected you to run to the Jedi Council,” Palpatine continued, calm and calculated as ever, seemingly unaffected by the sudden violent act. “They would come to enact their little coup and you, wracked with fear for your dear little wife, would rush to stop them and, in the process, seal your fate. But perhaps you don't care as much about Padmé as I thought you did. No matter. There are other ways to get you to turn, and as for the Council, they shall come of their own volition anyway.”

Padmé. Oh, Padmé. He had forgotten about the knowledge Palpatine claimed to possess in his rage. All he had been able to think about underneath the haze of fury was all the pain and the suffering that this man had caused. Of Ahsoka, forced to grow too soon, and nearly condemned to death for a crime she did not commit, framed by a former friend, beaten down by the war that he had orchestrated. Obi-Wan who looked more worn and tired and sad with each day that passed. Rex who had been bred for and lost so many brothers to a sham war as if they were nothing but pieces in a galaxy-wide game of dejarik. And worst of all, Padmé. Padmé who had worked tirelessly towards a pointless goal, trying to bring peace to the galaxy when all the former mentor she had once relied on as Queen—who had used her as a girl to gain power for himself—wanted was violence. Padmé who had spent most of her pregnancy stressed and alone whilst he was trapped fighting in the Outer Rim. Padmé whom the Sith Lord Sidious had tried to have killed under the guise of Count Dooku and the Separatists. Would she die now, not because she had become the target of a Sith Lord, but because her husband had acted with his usual recklessness and tried to strike before he had thought through the consequences of his actions? Or worse, would his actions give Sidious a reason to target her yet again? Had he, in his impulsive rage, doomed his dreams to come true?

“Fear not, Anakin.” Palpatine's lips twisted into a cruel smile, as if he had known exactly what it was he was thinking. Through his haze of panic, Anakin thought he could see a hint of yellow seeping into his eyes. “I will ensure that your wife and child are...taken care of.”

Dread pooled ice-cold in Anakin's stomach at the glint in the man's eye. Oh, Force, he meant— No, no—

“I'll kill you!,” he snarled. He pushed against the man's Force grip with all his might, reaching out in the Force for anyone who would listen, trying to warn them, call for help. “I'll kriffing kill you before I let you touch them. I'll—”

He was cut violently off as the Force wrapped around his throat in an iron grip. He sputtered, gasping for air.

“We both know you cannot stop me,” Sidious said. His voice, instead of the soft-spoken, cultured tones he usually associated with the Chancellor, came out as a dry, vile croak. “Had you submitted to me, I might have considered sparing your little family, but as it is...perhaps the loss of your...attachments will better demonstrate to you the value of the Dark Side.”

“Kriff...you!,” Anakin managed to gasp out around the pressure on his throat. Black spots were appearing in his vision, but he fought past them. Padmé was in danger. Padmé and the baby. He couldn't— He wouldn't— “The Jedi... The...the Jedi will...stop you...”

Sidious laughed, an awful cackle that set Anakin's teeth on edge. His grip tightened.

“No, they shan't.” Anakin's vision filled with darkness. “Sleep, Anakin. You will find the galaxy much changed once you wake.”

#star wars #star wars prequels #star wars: revenge of the sith #revenge of the sith #star wars fic #fic #anakin skywalker #sheev palpatine #anakin & palpatine #canon divergence #whumpay #whumpay2021 #mine #my fic #sfw

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helbertinelli · 4 years ago

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I wanted to see the new Jedi Order AND the New Republic in the sequels. But no, instead we got A New Hope 2.0, Luke 2.0, and Darth Vader 2.0. This is so disappointing.

Yeah, the sequels were disappointing. There were so many better ways to continue the story of SW (although personally I think they shouldn’t have continued it), but they chose to go about it in the worst way possible. They had no idea why SW was loved and they focused on the absolute worst things and then switched to new things when the first thing didn’t work rather than to try to fix the thing that didn’t work.

Like they were for sure that people loved SW for Vader so they gave us a guy who wore a costume that looked similar to Vader’s, but the character himself had no personality, he had some lame motivation to join the dark side, and he wanted nothing more than to stay evil. People didn’t like Kylo and then they were like okay, well Palpatine was in all 6 films, they have to like him. And then they brought back Palaptine.

But they missed the fact that the people loved Star Wars for the story. That the characters in SW were just characters without the story to tie them all in.

Everyone loved Luke saving Vader and Vader wanting to be redeemed. The sequels tried that story with Rey and Kylo, but 1. There was no reason for Rey to want to save Kylo. He wasn’t her father, he had no relation to her other than the fact that he killed Han in front of her and he tortured her and her friends. 2. Kylo didn’t want redemption. Every time he was offered the chance to do something good he turned it down and it was like 2 or 3 times that this happened. Vader didn’t. Yes, he didn’t accept Luke’s help at first, but he did in the end. And after Palpatine died, Vader wasn’t like “Okay, I’m taking his place now. Join me or you’re nothing to me“ to Luke. Vader did want to rule the galaxy with Luke right after he found out he has a son, but he gave up on that and realized that he needs to come back to Luke rather than to have Luke joining him. He realized he needs to make the right decision because his son is important to him and he can’t lose his son. Rey wasn’t important for Kylo. She was literally no one to him. They had no relationship at all, except what Kylo said: “My grandfather worked for your grandfather so we’re a dyad” (I legit had to pause the movie because I couldn’t stop laughing... they even ripped off Space Balls omg). Maybe the sequels would have been better if the two were related (either siblings or cousins). But they were just strangers and Rey just decided one day that she wants to save Kylo for some reason and then she decided that she’ll go back to trying to kill him and they kinda switch back and forth between that and it’s just a complete mess and doesn’t even come close to the story of Luke redeeming Vader that they were trying to rip-off from the OT.

People loved Vader being mysterious and intimidating and they loved the idea of this powerful Sith lord wearing a mask (like the Sith of the Old Republic did). And the sequels tried to copy that aesthetic, but then they reveal Kylo’s face right away and he’s not intimidating at all and the whole mystery around his identity behind the mask goes away too. And his entire thing is to be whiny and throw a tantrum when things don’t go his way and destroy everything around him. I guess they were trying to copy Vader choking people with that, but the scary thing about Vader was that he would choke people but he’d put no energy into it and he’d stay calm and it was kinda unnerving how calm he was when he was choking the life out of someone. This is why Vader was intimidating and menacing. He didn’t lash out like a spoiled child and destroy his toys. He was in control even when he wasn’t and he was calm and made it seem like taking someone’s life was no issue to him.

Anakin’s backstory is loved by people. The way someone who was a Jedi and good became a Sith and took down the entire Jedi order and basically destroyed everything his world was about in the process was extremely complex and well-written and Anakin is somewhat of a sympathetic character because a lot of people can see that he made the wrong choices for all the right reasons (he just wanted to save his wife and their unborn child... children as we later find out). Kylo’s turn to the dark side is just he was contacted by Snoke, who whispered bad things to him about Luke, and for some reason Luke decided that the only way to deal with this is to for some reason kill Kylo in his sleep??? (yeah I also don’t understand why the guy who spent 3 movies trying to redeem Vader and refused to fight Vader and was about to let himself get killed by the Emperor because he was convinced his Sith lord father was actually good and would save him, is now like “You know, my nephew has to die. He can’t be redeemed.”). And then Kylo’s immediate reaction to this was to kill everyone else in Luke’s temple because I guess they also needed to rip-off Order 66 (out of all things that happened). Kylo isn’t sympathetic in this way because 1. He had a loving family and a good support system with Han and Leia and even Luke to some extent. He wasn’t like Anakin who never had anyone to talk to and who had to keep his life a secret from the Jedi and who grew up a slave and who was desperate to save the only family he had left. Kylo’s life was good and they said it was good in the sequels too. 2. He got threatened by Luke and his very next choice is to go kill a bunch of innocent people. He never showed any ounce of remorse for his actions. At least with Anakin, we see that he’s torn apart when he’s pledging himself to Palpatine and he’s basically hurt and haunted by his actions starting from then on. Kylo just killed a bunch of people and he’s going around like “yep, just another Tuesday...“

And aside from just doing a bad rip-off of a story that was already presented in the same universe, they also messed up with other characters that were beloved.

Luke, who never gave up on his father and who even abandoned his training (I think) to go save his family, is now the guy who wanted to kill his nephew at the first sign of the dark side and then his solution was to leave his family behind and never see them again.

Han is a deadbeat dad who left his wife when things got hard and went away on a road trip with Chewie to avoid any responsibility.

Leia is always sad and she desperately wants to forgive Kylo (they basically gave her Padme’s personality for some reason, when she’s more like Anakin). Like I can see Han forgiving Kylo (because he does have a big heart despite his rugged exterior), but giving what we know about Leia’s character, she wouldn’t forgive Kylo. It took Leia a long time to come to terms with forgiving Anakin and she wouldn’t even talk to his Force Ghost when he came to apologize, even though she knew he’d never see him again. There’s no way that she sees Kylo basically turning into Vader 2.0 and she’s like “there’s still good in him.“ Like he destroyed an entire system of planets, that had to bring back some painful memories for Leia. She actually had to watch Alderaan be destroyed. And he killed Han. I know their relationship was ruined in TFA, but TFA also made it clear that Leia and Han were still in love. There’s no way she would have forgiven Kylo or thought he was still good after he killed his dad and her husband. And he tried to kill her too if I remember correctly. He fired on her ship, which made her float out into space. Leia isn’t like Luke or Padme. It would be difficult for her to forgive Kylo for basically turning into her worst nightmare and taking her family away from her and killing so many other people too.

And then they bring back Palpatine too because I’m guessing their thought process was “well he was in all 6 movies that people loved, we do need a good villain.“ And it made no sense. Palpatine died like twice in ROTJ. He got destroyed by the reactor that Vader threw him in and then the entire Death Star exploded into tiny particles. There was no way for the Death Star to be crash landed on Exegol since it basically blew up in all directions in the middle of nowhere in space. Bringing him back basically invalidated all of Anakin’s story because him dying to bring balance to the Force was for nothing. He didn’t balance anything, Palpatine was never defeated. They really didn’t need Palpatine to be the villain of TROS. You could replace him with any other random villain and nothing changes. They only brought him back to make a reference to the old movies and have people watch their movie for nostalgia. But I honestly don’t know who was nostalgic for Sheev.

Anyway, it’s embarrassing that they had a good story that they tried to rip-off and they still managed to fuck it up. Like how hard it is to rip-off Star Wars and still have a good story? Didn’t Disney actually accomplish it before in a Phineas and Ferb special? I don’t know why they couldn’t do it this time around too.

But for real, they should have showed the New Jedi Order and the New Republic and show us how Luke and Leia were changing the world for the better and how they were fighting to keep the world a better place rather than to give us a watered down version of the First Galatic Empire vs Rebels but with worse characters and a worse story this time around.

#thanks for the ask #anti sequel trilogy #Anonymous #ask

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ailelie · 5 years ago

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that time palpatine screwed up (and the galaxy was a better place for it)

Look. I know this idea is shit. I tried to give the idea away. Instead whenever I’m still for more than 30 seconds I start thinking about it. So here.

In another world, when Sheev hears the rumor of a strange pre-Jedi artifact, he doesn’t go to collect it himself. He sends someone who never returns and then decides to handle it later after his Empire plans reach fruition. In this world, however, he goes himself.

He finds the artifact on a dangerous world just beyond the reach of the Republic. The artifact activates upon touch.

The world grows large and scary around him.

A day or so passes without contact. He’d left his crew behind, not wanting to share what he was doing. One of them contacts the Senate for help. The 501st is closest.

(That was by design once. Another chance to connect with Anakin and pull him further into Darkness).

Anakin and his men search the planet. They do not find Palpatine. Anakin does find a Force-sensitive child whose eyes turn yellow when he cries.

A toddler is using the Dark side. He can’t kill a toddler. He isn’t sure he can give the child to the Jedi either, not if he is accessing the Dark side.

“What’s your name?” / “Zee” / “Zee?” / “NO! Zheeeeeeevuh.” / “Zhiva?” / “No!” / “Okay, Little Z, why don’t we try again after you’ve had a nap?”

Zee ends up sticking as the name everyone uses though as anything else leads to frustration and occasionally tears.

(Sheev knows he isn’t supposed to be 2 or 3 years old. He knows he has big plans. When he dreams, he remembers being big. But when he wakes, the memories waft away. He’s smarter than a toddler should be, but his brain cannot contain his adult mind so it all remains just out of reach. That’s more important than a name.)

Anakin and the 501st continue looking, but Palpatine is nowhere. He’s called back to Coruscant to report and join planning for what to do next. General consensus is that he’s been abducted by Separtists.

The Senate has not yet released that the Chancellor is missing.

Anakin contacts Padme about Zee and explains. “I can’t give him to the Jedi, not if he’s using the Dark side, but I can’t just leave him untrained and I’m not giving him to Dooku, Maul, or Ventress. I can’t.”

Padme has an absolutely terrible idea. She asks what the child looks like. “Blue eyes. Red hair.” Padme nods. “It’d have been better if he had brown hair, but if you wanted, we could say he’s ours.” “How? And won’t everyone know then?” “I have body doubles. We could say we’ve been hiding him. I know a doctor who would lie for me. But you’re right--if we did this, everyone would know about our marriage. How important is it that you keep this child safe and away from the Jedi? How else could we justify having him? If we tried to pass him off as an ordinary orphan, he’d have to go into the system.” Anakin is silent for a long moment. Then he asks, “What about the hair color? You said brown would be better.” “No one knows what your family looks like. Tell them your mother’s hair was red.” “Obi-Wan knows it wasn’t.” “Then we have to tell Obi-Wan.” Anakin breaks. “Angel, I can’t--” “How important is Zee?” Padme asks quietly and Anakin sighs. He can’t leave this strange child alone in the world. “I’ll try to meet with him before we reach Coruscant and explain.”

He does.

Obi-Wan stares at Anakin and feels the pinch of a headache between his eyes. “I honestly don’t know where to begin.” / “I shouldn’t have said--” / “No, I’m glad you told me. I just need a moment. You’re married?”

“This is a terrible plan,” Obi-Wan says flatly as he watches Zee sleep. “Padme came up with it,” Anakin argues. “That doesn’t make it better. I’m just more disappointed.”

In the end, however, he agrees to help by not contradicting Anakin’s claims about his mother’s hair and supporting the story that Padme was pregnant years ago, but complications demanded bed rest.

With the support of her family, handmaidens, a doctor, two Jedi, and a marriage license, the galaxy believes Padme’s claim over the child.

The upside is that everyone who thought they knew the difference between Padme and her body doubles are now uncertain in their ability to tell them apart.

The downside is that the galaxy takes one look at the two Jedi who claimed knowledge of her pregnancy and collectively decides Obi-Wan with his red hair is the more likely father.

Every refutation only makes them more certain. They could conduct a paternity test, but then their lie would be revealed.

The Jedi Council is not pleased with either Anakin for marrying Padme or Obi-Wan for possibly fathering her child. If they let the Council meet Zee, then Obi-Wan could possibly be absolved, but then the Council might discover Zee is Force-sensitive or, worse, that Zee accesses the Dark side.

(Obi-Wan to his growing dismay agrees that Zee does not belong among the Jedi. He trusts them more than Anakin, but agrees that they’d have no idea what to do with a possibly Sith toddler. Obi-Wan himself is entirely unsure what to do.)

Meanwhile, the Chancellor is still missing.

A report arrives that Dooku’s ship passed through the sector where the Chancellor went missing. It is a thin lead, but the only one they have. Consensus unwisely grows: Dooku abducted the Chancellor.

Meanwhile, Padme is getting really tired of all the press about her loose morals and journalists demanding she just admit Obi-Wan is Zee’s father. She smiles gracefully against the barrage, but Zee is exhausting and when he’s upset, her own emotions fall off-kilter (a side-effect of the Dark side, Obi-Wan explained) and one day she just snaps, “Shmi, Anakin’s mother, had red hair. He could be Zee’s father.”

She realizes her mistake as soon as the words pass her lips.

The press takes her statement as confirmation that she is bedding both Anakin and Obi-Wan. Since Anakin and Obi-Wan don’t seem to hate one another, however, a new rumor begins...

Clearly the three are a triad.

The Holonet starts spawning image after image of “proof.” Any smile or casual touch that has ever happened among the three is now evidence of their long-hidden love affair. The false names on the marriage license are explained, by these apparent experts, as a clever way to include all three partners in a Naboo-style wedding.

Meanwhile, Dooku learns from his spies that he has apparently abducted the Chancellor. As he has not, he is concerned.

But! He decides to use the disappearance to create a trap. He’ll pretend to have the Chancellor to lure some Jedi in and then kill or ransom them.

(This is when the rest of the galaxy learns Palpatine is missing.)

Obi-Wan, desperate to get away from the press and disappointing looks of the Council, volunteers to spring the obvious trap.

(Anakin wants to go. Padme points out that she cannot handle Zee alone. One of them has to stay with her. ....this has not helped the rumors about them being triad).

Obi-Wan gets to Dooku and demands to see the Chancellor. Combat ensues until Obi-Wan wins and Dooku, cuffed, admits he doesn’t have Palpatine.

He returns to Coruscant with Dooku and brings him before the Jedi Council. Dooku doesn’t reveal anything of import beyond his own lack of knowledge, but his capture does prompt a larger investigation.

While investigating into Palpatine to try and figure out who would have abducted him, a joint taskforce of the Senate and Jedi discover that he’s been orchestrating the entire war and that he’s a Sith.

Meanwhile, back at Padme’s, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Padme have been caring for Zee. Trying to help Zee control his emotions leads to Anakin figuring out how to better control his own; he sees his own issues more clearly when he finds them in someone else.

Padme is the one to explain that Zee needs to call her and Anakin “Mama” and “Daddy” or “Papa” for his own safety.

Zee, the little troll that he is, calls Obi-Wan “Papa” in public once when journalists are pressing a bit too close. It is uncertain if he did so because he felt unsafe and was just taking Padme’s earlier explanations to heart or because some deep (adult) part of him dislikes Obi-Wan and enjoys causing him pain.

Naturally, after that, there is nothing Anakin, Padme, or Obi-Wan can say to allay the rumors.

Meanwhile, with Dooku captured and Palpatine’s treachery revealed, the war is quickly brought to a close.

Anakin wants to rage about his former mentor, but is mindful of Zee and instead goes to Obi-Wan and Padme for help handling his sense of betrayal.

Zee has a horrible tantrum when peace is announced, though none of them can understand why.

Then Padme learns she is pregnant again.

The Council recommends that Anakin and Obi-Wan leave the Order. Anakin’s hurt for himself is lightened by his indignation for Obi-Wan. He apologizes, but Obi-Wan accepts his dismissal with a tired smile. The war is over. Zee is a difficult child to manage and Padme is pregnant. “The Force is guiding me to where I’m needed,” he says.

Anakin is especially grateful he stays when Padme learns she is having twins. (With no reason to hide now, she receives proper medical care).

Padme, Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Zee return to Naboo where Padme’s family insists on a proper wedding for the three.

Obi-Wan is surprising sanguine about this. He says that he isn’t going to leave them and isn’t like he has anywhere else to go. A marriage is a promise; it needn’t be a romance. Besides, he has utterly given up on correcting the record.

So they get married all three of them.

When the twins are born, Anakin and Padme rope Obi-Wan into helping. As their husband, he is equally responsible they claim. Obi-Wan argues for the fun of it, but accepts that he will be “Papa” to Anakin’s “Daddy” and Padme’s “Mama.”

By the time the twins are a year old, their marriage is both promise and romance. Shared exhaustion, worry, and joy grows the love among them. The occasional grounding touch turns to comfort turns to desire. This is not the life any of them imagined having, but resistance is both painful and futile.

Obi-Wan doesn’t mean to fall in love with Anakin and Padme; it is an accident. But once he is in bed with them, Padme pressed against his front, Anakin’s forehead nearly touching hers, his leg hooked over Obi-Wan’s---and he’s watching them breathe as they sleep, he feels deeply at peace, like, after years of wandering and hoping, he has finally found where he belongs.

Years go by. Zee learns to use the Light side, but the Dark calls to him, especially in his dreams. He discovers that he is very, very good at manipulating others.

Maybe his parents instill enough of a moral compass within him that he uses his talents for the good of the galaxy.

Or maybe, as he grows, he discovers the adult he had once been. Maybe he resists, chooses to be Zee instead of Sheev. Or maybe he gives in. Becomes Sith.

Maybe, one day, Zee disappears just as a new, terrible power is rising.

Maybe, one day, while fighting back, Luke learns he is dueling his long-lost, presumed-dead older brother.

Or maybe Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padme learn that Zee is actually Sheev with his youth restored. And, maybe Anakin goes out ahead, sacrificing himself in an attempt to get through to his one-time mentor and son.

Good, of course, ultimately wins out, but at what cost?

#star wars #fanfic #not!fic #obianidala #sheev palpatine #deaging #crack!fic

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detroitbydark · 5 years ago

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Chp 10

Characters: Commander Fox/Mouse (reader), Palpatine, Captain Rex, Anakin Skywalker, Mace Windu.

Word count:4500

Warnings: Sith typical mind fuckery, canon typical violence. Use of the force to injure.

A/N: well here we are ladies and lads, Fox lovers all. The day is upon us. I’m pretty stoked the way this one came out and I hope y’all don’t hate me too much after the fact. As always let me know what you think, ask questions, yell at me. Whatever floats your boat.

Today hadn’t started well and you were already so far past caring it was insane.

You didn’t care you’d woken up on your couch in your clothes from the day before, rumpled and wrinkled beyond salvage, your mascara a messy mask under your eyes.

You didn’t care that you spent the better part of your first hour at the office staring out the transparisteel window into the skylane that ran not far from where you sat, watching transports and speeders for by in a soothing blur.

You didn’t care about the tartness in your voice when the 501st Captain had comm’d stating it was important that he speak with Commander Fox immediately. You’d told him, in no uncertain terms, that what the Commander had on the schedule for today was of the utmost importance and that you would make sure he got the message when he got in.

Maybe you’d been a bitch, latent embarrassment from the peep show you’d unintentionally given the day before still simmering but, really, he hadn’t even offered an apology and the muffled yelling behind closed doors hadn’t done much to place him in your good graces either.

You try not to replay the night before. You’d done that plenty on the ride home. All the same, you let it play through again in your head. Now, you're looking at it in the light of day and with more clarity. The way the anxiety had been almost palpable when you’d first entered the room hadn’t seemed so obvious at the time-

“Ma’am?”

A portly woman is standing a few feet away politely smiling. Your face flushes.

“I’m sorry. Daydreaming.” You explain with a forced smile and a lie “what can I do for you?” A movement behind the woman catches your attention. A tiny green hand clings to the women's slacks as equally green eyes peek around her thick leg.

“I’m Sukin Maly with level 504 children’s home. I was told this was Commander Fox’s office?” She’s pleasant looking as she glances back at the child clinging to her before focusing on you. Lines pull at the corner of her eyes letting you know she was a woman who enjoyed smiling a lot and often.

The child slowly rounds the woman’s thigh and you watch with delight as you recognize the twi’lek girl from the pictures Fox had shown you. Pushing away from your desk you move closer, crouching down and offering your hand. Wide eyes look from your hand to the attendant who gives a small nod. The girl hesitantly takes it and you give it a gentle shake before looking back up to her minder.

“I’m afraid the Commander is out of the office today.” The woman gives an understanding smile as you turn back to the little girl.

“I think I know who you are.” You offer conspiratorially, “are you Me’kar? You made quite the impression on Commander Fox.”

Her little lekku wriggle happily at the sound of her name.

The children’s attendant says something in Ryl you don’t understand. Me’kar’s tiny hands go to the top of each lek and she makes little ears with her fingers.

“Fox” she says clear as day in basic.

You can’t help but laugh and her smile brightens as she repeats the word over and over.

“She’s picking it up quickly”, Sukin explains “but that seems to be her favorite word.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. It’s mine too” you say softly as she bounces in front of the older woman.

”it’s nice to meet you both.” You offer them your given name before addressing the child again, “but you can call me Mouse if you’d like. Everyone around here does.”

This brings a peel of laughter bubbling up in the child as the attendant translates. She holds her hands in front of her like tiny paws and wiggles her little green button of a nose before making a squeaking noise. “Mouse,” she giggles.

You laugh as she pulls a stuffed tooka out of the bag draped across her shoulders.

“Cat. Meow.” She says proudly, holding the raggedy stuffy up. “Fox kiss better.”

You look up to the attendant with a furrowed brow. “She was quite taken that the Commander gave her kitten kisses when it was scared.”

You fight back a laugh at the image. “I wish he was here to see you. He’s going to be disappointed he missed such an important visitor.” The girl's smile fades as Sukin translates but only for a moment before she’s digging back in her bag for a folded piece of flimsy.

“Fox” she says proudly as she unfolds the flimsy, finally holding up an image she’d obviously been very proud of. It’s rough but you can very clearly make out little Me’kar and Fox drawn as brightly colored stick figures. Fox’s helmet is so large that the weight of it looks like it will break his little stick body in half at any moment, maybe it’s the small green hand intertwined with his red one that stops it from happening.

Your ovaries nearly implode. It is the single most adorable thing you’ve ever seen and you willingly take it as she turns to her minder and speaks in rapid Ryl.

“She’d like you to give it to the Commander.”

“Please?”

Saying no was never going to be an option so you nod, thrown off when she attaches herself to your waist and gives you a big hug. You pay the top of her head, “how about this. I give him this” you wriggle the picture, “and we set something up so you and your friends can come a different day when I know the Commander and his friends will be here? You could eat lunch in the big cafeteria and maybe they could give you a tour?”

Me’kar can barely contain herself as the older woman translates. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She spins and bounces with excitement and Sulin hurries to calm her as you hide a smile behind your hand. You trade comms with the woman and promise to be in touch after you’ve spoken with the Commander and set something up. Me’kar waves manically, turning and pulling every few steps when It’s time to leave.

“Bye Mouse! Bye!”

It’s the first bright spot in your day and you cling to the swelling feeling in your heart as you return to sorting out the mess that was the day to day operations of the Coruscant Guard.

——-

The aide arrives early afternoon. You’d only just finished lunch and are busy packing your bag when you see them coming down the hall. The upturned nose and refined, high-end clothing scream politician from 20 klicks away. They’re feet away from your desk before their eyes even move to you.

“I’m sorry, Commander Fox-“ you begin your usual explanation and are quickly cut off.

“Your presence is requested this afternoon in the office of the Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine.”

The request strikes you as odd immediately both in its formality and, if by the way the aide is staring at you, its presumed immediacy.

You were not an individual that ever had any right being in the same room as someone as powerful as the Supreme Chancellor, not because you were unworthy or less than, but simply because you had nothing to offer in any way you could find necessary.

You inform the aide gently that he is likely in the wrong place, has the wrong person.

He huffs impatiently before speaking your name, “that is your name correct?”.

You nod mutely.

“Than, miss, I believe I am in the right place and the Chancellor is well aware of who you are.”

Something sours in your stomach. You wish Fox or one of the boys were around because something just seems off. “We could do this a different time?” You question hopefully, retrieving your datapad and flipping open the calendar, “I really shouldn’t be leaving halfway through my day.”

“The Commander is with the Chancellor awaiting your arrival.”

Well, you knew that, didn’t you? You were the one who’d been answering comms for Fox all day. So why did it make your stomach flip and lurch? Maybe because you’d expect Fox to contact you with a heads up or, knowing him, send one of the kits to collect you.

“So, like now?” You clarify.

The aide's foot begins an impatient rhythm, toes tapping irritably against the floor, “like, now.” He clarifies pointedly.

You try to ignore his demeanor, he probably wasn’t used to playing go-for and certainly not used to anyone doing anything less than jumping at a chance to meet the Chancellor. Still, you don’t move with any great urgency. Maybe had he been a little nicer or the request not been so abnormal to begin with. You make a point of locking down the datapads and grabbing your coat and bags, ignoring his sigh while he glances at his chrono.

He never introduces himself. Not as you follow a step behind down the halls, not as you climb into the sleek black speeder on the landing platform. Hound And Rule are parking a pair of speeder bikes. You give them a shrug and a nervous smile as their helmets both cock in question. Hound looks like his namesake be it with a more viscous paint job. You’d laugh if you weren’t so kriffing nervous. It’s stupid. So this wasn’t exactly normal, but aside from a rude, nameless aide this was nothing worse than heading to an inter-office meeting.

Than why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you were about to get in trouble, like a child being called to the principals office? Your fingers fumble as you buckle the restraint across your chest. You barely have a chance to wave to the two Guardsmen still looking your way before the speeder is diving into the skylane and heading toward the Senate Executive building.

The ride is quiet. Any attempt to make small talk is met with a simple yes or no, a few things are even ignored completely. If this guy was intending on going into politics he’d need to take a class or two on how to fake interest in his constituents.

The speeder comes to a stop at the Supreme Chancellor’s private platform and you’re ushered off without fanfare.

“Don’t we need to check in with security?” You ask as your collector opens the door to what you can only assume is the Chancellor’s suite, a rich expanse of room and excess that doesn’t allow your eyes a moment to relax or focus on one point.

“That won’t be necessary, unless you feel like you need to be scanned and patted down?” His raises brow makes you blush.

“No- of course not. Just protocol-“

“The Supreme Chancellor sets his own protocols.” He explains as you move further into the office. The large wall of transparisteel looks out over the very tops of buildings you knew to tower high about the highest heights of the Coruscanti top level. It’s breathtaking.

The decorations are ostentatious, with a very strong splash of deep red everywhere- from the carpeting to the tapestries interspersed on the walls. Bronzium statues sit atop marble stands, their twisted faces and gnarled figures seem out of place amongst all the finery before you.

“This way, please.”

You hadn’t realized you’d slowed to gawk and move to pick up the pace from where you’d fallen back. You offer a small apology that goes unacknowledged as he presses through an imposing set of doors on the other side is more transparisteel, more red.

And the Chancellor.

Sheev Palpatine sits with his hands folded on the dark wood in front of him looking as if he’d been waiting for you to arrive. He greets you as such.

“My dear girl!” He rises to greet you, moving carefully around his desk.

Your first thought is that he was not nearly as tall as you’d imagined he’d be. On the holonet he looked every bit as tall as any of the clones that served as his guards. He’s only a head taller than you, you note as he reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle shake. You smile weakly, a spark of something uncomfortable and disquieting burning inside you.

“Supreme Chancellor” you incline your head to break the uncomfortably intense eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“She is a beautiful little creature, Commander.” He intones looking past you, ignoring your greeting.

You glance over your shoulder to see Fox standing at attention next to the door you’d walked through. It was a wonder you hadn’t noticed him immediately but with all the red bleeding through the room it was no great difficulty for him to blend in. He tips his helmet toward you even though he seems stiff. Regardless, just his presence does something to calm your nerves. Any residual anxiety about the pair of you seems to dissolve as you look at him. When you turn back to the Chancellor your smile is genuine.

The chancellor’s is still questionable while he cups your elbow and leads you toward his desk. The soft clatter of plastoid armor follows behind you. You can feel Fox behind you, can almost imagine his all too familiar body heat radiating along your back. You fight the urge to let your hand sweep behind you in an attempt to capture his own.

“My dear, the good Commander speaks very highly of you.”

“I think very highly of him” you murmur fighting the urge to look behind you.

“Very good. Very good. Have a seat and we’ll begin our little meeting.”

The chair is plush and comfortable. When the Chancellor sits down across you notice that his chair is positioned slightly higher than your own, making him appear as if he was looking down at you. The desk is fairly clean, only a handful of datapads and some neatly organized flimsy. Next to everything is a gleaming blaster. It’s hard to keep your eyes from skimming over it. You’d sat through enough conversations with Hound and Ryk to not recognize a hold-out blaster when you saw one.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Blas-Tech, I believe.” The chancellor motions toward the blaster but you shake your head. As much as you’ve been privy to conversations about the different makes and models you’d never really become comfortable with the actual blasters themselves. “Well suit yourself” the chancellor shakes his head gently picking up the blaster and making a show of turning it in the light. It’s small, most hold-outs were. “A gift from one of the Corellian delegates” he continues “a very thoughtful gift but I personally find blasters rather uncivilized.” He makes a show of setting it down closer to you.

“I see” you fidget in your seat, “I really don’t want to waste any of your time. I’m sure you have far more important-“

“- this is of the utmost importance, I’m afraid” there’s something about the almost apologetic look he gives you or maybe it’s the slight cooling of his tone that washes away any comfort that knowing Fox was with you had provided.

“I’m afraid, I’m not sure what this conversation is about.”

A scoff crosses the length of the desk as the Chancellor looks past you to Fox. “She is very tricky isn’t she Commander? Had I known you couldn’t see past a simple deception I would never have encouraged you to pursue her.”

“My apologies, my lord” Fox’s voice is cool and emotionless, not the rich baritone you were used to. Warning klaxons sound in your head.

“Sir?”

“Oh, dear girl there’s no use hiding it any longer.”

Your heart rate is slowly creeping up, moving more close to the rate of your namesake than you were comfortable with. You attempt to rise to your feet but a pair of gauntlets come down on your shoulders and press you back into the chair that no longer feels comfortable.

The chancellor rises and moves toward the windows, his fine robes swing around him as he goes. Your eyes follow him carefully. Pressure builds at the back of your skull, a wholly inopportune moment for a headache to present itself if you’ve ever had one. You shake your head gently in an attempt to dislodge it. The chancellor laughs and it sends a cold shock down your spine.

“You’ve used your position and your wiles to lead the Commander astray” he begins “you’ve filled his head full of ideas of conspiracies and plots that don’t exist. And for what, might I ask?”

When you turn and look up at Fox he’s staring down at you through the dark lens of his visor. You will him to say something, anything. Surely this was a mistake.

“Fox, you can’t believe this?” You turn toward Palpatine, “this is a mistake. I’m not sure where this has come from-“

“-So I shouldn’t believe that you gathered the data for the Commander? That you didn’t read through it unlawfully and offer your own silly ideas as to what happened after our best investigators found that the ARC trooper acted against the Republic? That he was, indeed, intent on assassignation?” The chancellor’s voice grows louder as he speaks.

Your mouth gapes as he continues.

“Should the Commander not be made aware that you’ve used his affection to manipulate a good soldier into believing that the Grand Army, the highest level of military excellence in the galaxy, was intent on destroying not only his brothers but the entire Jedi order?”

Fox’s hands leave your shoulders and you jump to your feet, the chair pushing back behind you, forcing him to take a step back or be hit with it. His hand rests at his hip, fingers wrapped around the grip of his deece. The pressure on the back of your head intensifies, burns.

“You used me” the words are a broken snarl, an injured animal fighting back. “You made me love you so you could what? Tell me damnit!” His body is tight, coiled like a spring ready to snap.

“Fox, this isn’t right-“

Palpatine's voice rises over the pair of you. “I’ll tell you Commander. She came with the intent of finishing what the ARc trooper started. She was a conspirator.” The word conspirator is hissed out. Fox’s head jerks than shakes. The heel of his free hand presses against his visor. You want to go to him, find a way to make him understand, to soften the hard lines of his body.

Pick up the blaster.

A voice, cool and calculating echoes in your skull. Your eyes trail down to the blaster and your fingers flex into a fist, knuckles going white as you fight the urge that you shouldn’t have. You can hear your heartbeat pounding along rapidly in your head, adrenaline flooding your system.

“She’s here to kill me Commander. She is a spy and assassin. How else could she get in here without the guards knowing?”

Fox’s hand twitches over his own blaster. “It hurts” one hand presses at the side of his bucket. Is Palpatine in his head too?

Pick. Up. The. Blaster.

Your skull feels as if it will implode at any moment. Your eyes turn away from Fox and to the Chancellor. A cruel smile twists his mouth, a vicious play on a genuine one. Your brows furrow together as the clanging in your head grows louder.

“You’re doing this?!” Panic rises in your throat, bile burns it raw. “Why? Get out of my head!”

The pained squeal that slips from your mouth sounds foreign, a feral animal sound. “Get out of my head!” You sob whipping around. Fox, who seems to be struggling on his own, drops down to one knee, bucket cradled in his hands.

“Cyar’ika-“ he sounds small and you want it to stop, would do anything to protect him. His visor rises up to meet your eyes and you swear you see him clear as day as if it’s not there. He’s your Fox and he needs you.

Because you love him.

“How touching” Palpatine's voice echoes through the room, a perverse pleasure notable in his tone as he sees your realization from inside your mind.

But you love Fox and the weight of it gives you strength. You push harder against whatever magic has slithered into your head.

“Good soldiers follow orders” Palpatine reminds, voice cold and calculating “Shoot the traitor.”

“Fox, it’s me.” You beg him to see you. To look at you “he’s making you believe something that isn’t real. See me-“ a broken sob bubbles it’s way over your lips, “Fox…”

Distantly, the sound of blasters and the rising shout of voices becomes clear but you don’t have time to discern what’s going on.

“You will shoot the assassin commander. The blaster is in her hand. Do it, Commander!”

“Mouse- I- I- can’t” Fox’s voice comes out as if through gritted teeth and then something snaps and he rises back to his full height. The uncertainty that had been rolling off of him is gone.

“No, no, no…” you mumble, shaking your head as tears fill yours eyes. Your hand covers your mouth in horror as if it alone can hold your grief in. Fox raises his blaster at you. Desperately you turn to the chancellor. “Please! Please don’t make him do this! I’ll do anything. Please don’t make him!”

He laughs in your face and you finally do as the voice in you head has willed.

You grab the blaster.

It feels foreign in your grip. You scream as a bolt from Fox’s deece grazes your left shoulder but your right hand holds tight to the one in your hand.

“PUT IT DOWN! GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!” Fox’s voice booms as you turn back toward him. There’s no way you will get a shot off on the chancellor. “Mouse- please-“ desperation bleeds through his words suddenly and it hurts almost as much as the singed flesh of your arm.

You raise the blaster to your head. You're going to die. You know it in your very soul. Now it was only a matter of how and who. It won’t be Fox. It will be the last thing you do-

“DO IT!”

Noise erupts around you. The doors of the Chancellor's office explode open, splinters of wood showering down.

Chaos ensues.

Another blaster bolt hits you in the right flank while your attention is divided. Everything moves in slow motion. The blaster in Fox’s hand shakes as he continues to aim it in your direction. The smell of ozone assault your senses. The room spins on its own unseen axis.

The blaster falls from your fingers with a clatter as you drop to your knees. You can’t breathe, your mind screams to draw in a breath but your body refuses to comply only allowing shallow, useless gasps.

Lights flare in your periphery purple, red, blue. Voices roar to life.

Electricity tickles at your skin as your hands press down over burnt flesh. “Fox…” his name comes out as a whimper as the transparisteel at your back shatters, shards of it bite into your back, burrow deep into your flesh. The smell of blood, the coppery tang makes your stomach heave..

Chaos is everywhere, omnipotent and overwhelming. Voices shout, threaten, and yell and you struggle to focus in on any one thing.

“Don’t take another step, vod!” You see the familiar blue and white jaig eyed bucket of Captain Rex. Twin deeces are aimed at Fox but his blaster is only half pointed, his head cocks then shakes violently. “I said stop, Fox!”

“It’s not him-“ the words come out in a choked cough, not loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of wind rising up between the buildings and the clashing of Jedi lightsabers. You press up on one arm and point shakily with your injured left arm. You try again, “it’s him!”

Rex’s helmet tips toward you but his blasters remain trained on Fox as you point toward the old man held at the tip of a purple saber.

You don’t have the strength to stay upright and your arm crumples. You fall against the red carpet with a gasp. Your shoulder bears the brunt of it causing bright hot pain to shoot anew through your body. When you're able to open your eyes, your blood mixing with the red fibers, almost imperceptibly, greets you.

“Mouse- Fierfek” the gutted sound of Fox’s voice slips into your ears, “I’m sorry. I’m-“ he voice is choked off as he grabs at his throat. Another man, lip curled back in a snarl, advances on him hand raised. His robes are dark matching the poisonous look in his eyes.

“Yes, young Skywalker. Strike him down!” The chancellor's sickly voice rises up over the winds.

“Anakin!” The Jedi wielding the purple saber snarls. You see him look back at the chancellor.

“I am the senate. You will not kill me, Jedi”

“The senate is overruled”

The purple saber flashes without hesitation. You choke back a scream as Sheev Palpatine’s head leaves his body. You struggle, dragging yourself toward Fox as his hands claw against his own throat trying to dislodge his invisible assailant.

“General! Enough!” Rex’s voice rises as you grab at Fox’s leg pulling yourself in front of him.

“Skywalker” the other man intones quietly. The purple glow retracts as he places a hand over the younger Jedi’s forearm and presses down, “let him go. This wasn’t his doing.”

You miss the choked cry the younger man bites back because whatever has held Fox at bay releases him and he falls forward, body draping over you protectively.

The winds still howl, blowing up from the deep wells of Coruscant below but it sounds distant. It doesn’t chill you like it had because Fox is with you and he’ll make everything right.

You want to tell him how much you love him. You want to kiss him just once as the darkness presses in at the edges of your vision. It’s a struggle to focus on the lines of his helmet, to pretend you can see through to the cut of his jaw, his full lips -that turn up just so when he smiles- and the soothing browns of his eyes.

“You don’t get to do this” he whispers angrily between harsh breaths. His arms wrap around your body pulling you close his nose pressing against your temple. “You don’t get to die because of me”

You tell him it’s not his fault, or at least you try. You can’t make your voice work.

Fox’s lips press roughly behind your ear. A continuous loop of promises and apologies and curses spill from his mouth. Mando’a and basic slur together. You try to keep your eyes open. You want to stay with him. It doesn’t hurt anymore so everything must be ok. Fox has made it ok…

Someone yells for a medic and the darkness overtakes you.

#commander fox/reader #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x Reader #fox fanciers #tcw #palps gets what's coming to him #im sorry #dont hate me

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wvsteria · 2 years ago

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mcrcki:

“right, luke and i are the reason this family will be destroyed. not because you and your brother decided to go down this path first, because you two brought shame to this family first. we have been cleaning up after both of you! after everyone!” she knew it wasn’t fair to put all of this on jacen’s shoulders, to make any of them shoulder the burden of their decisions. but it was difficult for her to take any blame when leia did not believe she was in the wrong. this was to save the family. nothing more, nothing less. “i’ve already killed your father and i still have control over myself. i can handle this. i am stronger than the pull.” the information slipped out, the truth of the attack from halloween being revealed without much of leia’s control over it. she knew it wasn’t the right way to tell him, for anyone to find out what really happened, but she couldn’t control her tongue the way she would have wanted to. she was feeding off of her son’s anger, letting it fuel her own, losing control over the small flickers of leia that still wanted to take hold of her. leia was gone as they continued to shout, sith against sith as she felt herself falling further and further into the darkness. “this family is safe! as long as you all stay away from the palpatines, you are safe! that’s the deal!” what was so difficult to understand. it was a deal that she was so sure in, one that she had to trust would be upheld. she knew sheev would twist it to his advantage when he finally grew bored, but leia hoped by then, the twins would be strong enough to fight. “if that’s what you believe, then fine. i won’t make you see me as anything other than the villain. but know that no matter what you believe, all of this, all of these decisions are made just to keep you, your siblings and your daughter safe. i am fixing your mistakes by keeping allana safe.” words were failing both of them, no matter what they were saying, it was only making the situation worse. all of that seemed to fade as she watched the struggle in her son, watched as he fought for control, as it looked like jacen lost that battle. his words were cold, her own hand itching to grab her saber as he focused back on her. “you went through this night unarmed?” she was shocked by that, to know that she was the only one with a saber.. she wouldn’t draw it without being provoked, she still wasn’t as well versed in it as her brother was. but all at once she felt her feet leave the ground, back slamming against the wall with a groan. “i am doing this for your family!” she shouted as she recovered, taking that as enough provoking, her saber illuminating in her hand as the free one reached up, force reaching out, lifting jacen off of his feet in return, throwing him back.

it was a low blow. he knew it was only said by her sith to crush him under the weight of his mistakes. but jacen knew that shame all to well. it was the shame that brought him to fight against his own twin. knowing that he was too far gone. but he had not done anything here. here he was given the chance to start over and not let caedus destroy his family again. “we were at war!” caedus countered in his defense. that was the reason he allowed the darkness to come through. caedus allowed the remainder of the memories he’d kept from jacen to flow through without anything blocking them. “my brother died and i did what i had to win the war. ben was manipulated just as you are being manipulated now. you are no better!” he was fueled by the anger he felt from her but the worst blow he experienced was knowing it was her fault. it was his mother who had killed his father. the surprise in his eyes evident as he looked at leia in a way he hadn’t ever before. disappointment, fear, disgust. “it...” he found himself stumbling to find the words, to even believe what she was telling him. but it made sense. from when he tried to ask to help before, of course she didn’t want help. because it was her that had done it in the first place. “how could you!” was all he was able to yell out. of all the things he would expect from the sith, harming their family. he hoped she was a long ways from it. but it seems that he was too late. “we may be safe from the palpatines but you are a disease to this family. you have already killed father. who will be next?” he challenged. “will you kill your children?” he asked, as if were not a factor in that equation. as if he had not been prepared to cast the first stone. “would you dare raise a hand to allana?” he needed to know. he needed to know if he had to make that call. though even if he got the answer he hoped for, he wouldn’t know if he could believe it. she’d lied to him so often now. he walked over to where he’d thrown his mother, eyes glancing down to where her hand reached for her saber. “my night hardly went without incident.” just as he’d finished his sentence he was sent off his feet, crashing to the ground several feet back. once he’d hit the ground he took the second to regather himself, pushing himself off the ground slowly. since they’d began sharing he might as well tell the truth to someone. one person before he continued the battle with his mother. “i killed tenel.” jacen’s eyes stared at the ground as the admission broke his heart. the night he had intended went perfectly and horrifically wrong. he stood finally so he could be prepare in case she came to him with the saber, looking around for something, he found a trash can he forced, sending it in her direction. “you are doing this for yourself. you may lie to us all but you shouldn’t lie to yourself!”

#jacen & interactions #& leia organa #mcrcki #hw: valentine's day 2023 #violence tw #murder mention tw

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legobiwan · 4 years ago

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Whumptober #5

“on the run”

Notes: Yes, I’m a day behind, I’m hoping to post a second story tonight but let’s see where life goes. This story...I started out with an idea, and then that idea went in a very different direction as I started writing. RotS AU.

General Whumptober tag

Whumptober 2020 #1

Whumptober 2020 #2

Whumptober 2020 #3

Whumptober 2020 #4

~~~~~~

If you were here, Qui-gon…

Right. If you were here you’d probably shackle me up - wrists tightly enclosed in Force-dampening binders, restraining collar around my neck. Your harsh words would be an invisible whip against my true skin, your touch too soft for a monster such as I, pleading almost, far too kind than what I deserve for my crimes.

You would do all this, Qui-gon, your eyes dark with disappointment, letting no other man or soldier or droid handle me except yourself. Your failure of a Padawan trussed up like a common criminal (common? Perhaps not.), signed, sealed, and delivered personally back to Coruscant for my trial and probable execution.

And you would be right to do so, Qui-gon. So, so right. Force, part of me wishes you could swoop down right now, take me in your arms, the last friendly touch I would ever know before you placed my body on the electroguillotine’s platform to the cheers of the Senate, to the stony facades of the Jedi Council. One last bit of kindness, your hand on my cheek, before the killing blade would deliver me from my sins, before this would all just be over.

After all, it’s not every day a member of the Jedi High Council assassinates the Chancellor of the Republic on live holofeed.

Their faces Qui-gon, the way the Force shifted like two ancient, tectonic masses, colliding as Palaptine - or should I say Sidious - fell from his lofty perch, body plunging, down, down, down until it hit the subterranean floor of the Senate chamber with a sickening, exhilarating thud.

The similarities to my subterfuge as Rako Hardeen were not unmarked, believe me, Qui-gon. Palpatine, however, unlike myself, continues to be dead, two neat holes placed through the side of his treacherous head.

I feel, perhaps, that I have forsaken myself.

But you weren’t there, Master, you didn’t watch through thin slits of wavering consciousness, of azure and crimson rainbows, of the sneaking tar of decay that oozed forth from the man who would lead - would conquer - the Republic and the Jedi. You weren’t there as your Padawan - your friend and brother, the boy you so cared for (more than myself, I can now admit). As Anakin brought the two blades together at Dooku’s neck, executioner of a death sentence signed in familiar large, looping letters - “Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Republic.”

It was him, Qui-gon. The Sith Lord was right there, the entire time, one hand on Anakin’s shoulder, leading him to perdition.

And I did nothing to stop it.

Nothing, until now.

Perhaps if I had been the one to perish on Naboo…perhaps none of this would have ever happened. But that is another world lost to another time, and the ‘here and now,’ as you would say, consists of a cold storage closet in the rear of a Rodian smuggler’s ship.

Three days I’ve been cramped in this space, my passage paid with the frozen Twi’lek guard lying at my feet, legs bent at unnatural, backward angles, the trickle of blood dripping from their nose now an ugly, improvised tattoo.

It’s cold, Qui-gon. A blessing, in some ways, as my departed friend here is unlikely to suffer the worst effects of putrefaction, but I feel even if I were to be on the sunny beaches of Scarif, I would still shiver at my own conscience.

I am tired, Qui-gon.

~~~

You visited me in my dreams last night, Qui-gon.

Neither the avenging angel of death nor the soft shepherd of comfort, you stood, distant, enigmatic as a Loth-Sphinx, as distant and maddening as you had been in life.

I suppose this should have come as no surprise.

Why? You asked me.

Why what, Qui-gon? Why did I kill Palpatine, why did I run, why did I make a fool’s promise to you all those years ago?

As to the last question, I believe - well, perhaps not believe, but fervently hope - you know the answer already.

To answer the others - what choice did I have? To witness what I had, to know Anakin was in thrall to this…this thing, that I would never convince him of Palpatine’s true intentions, that I had lost any trust, any esteem he may have still had for me with my own betrayals -

It was all happening too fast, Qui-gon. The situation on Mandalore, the battle on Coruscant, Dooku’s death. I briefly confided in Bail Organa, the Senator from Alderaan, hinted at my actions in regards to the Mandalore situation, on the way to Coruscant. He told me in no uncertain terms that the Senate would be forced to bring down charges of insurrection, even possibly treason, once they learned of my manipulations of the GAR.

What was one more charge, on top of the others, I thought.

It…it’s better this way, Qui-gon. The Jedi, while still under suspicion, have an obvious and convenient scapegoat, a Council member gone rogue, the underground actor fanning the flames of rumors of a coup. Anakin, while unstable, is at least now out of his orbit. Whether he stays in the Order or leaves, I cannot say, but I hope for his sake - and his unborn child’s - he leaves.

Don’t you see, Qui-gon? The only one who must suffer here is me and I will do so gladly.

Ah, but why not turn myself in, you ask. The deed is done, why run from my actions?

The Twi’lek’s crimson lividity has given way to a more pale ochre, abdomen swollen and nauseated. While the cold has stalled this inevitable process, I must confess to being a bit wary of my companion’s stability.

One more night, and we shall reach Mandalore.

I remain here, discomfited bunkmate to the dead, while Cody and his men span the galaxy, hunting for the wayward Jedi - the turncoat, the traitor, the aruetii…

But you see, Qui-gon, as the galaxy turns its eye on me, it distances its gaze from the Order, from the Council’s machinations.

If I had not acted, someone else would have - with far more dire consequences, I fear.

We spoke of it, you know. Taking over the government, stripping Palpatine of his power (and how laughable a notion that is, to strip a Sith Lord of their edged fury. Impossible to achieve without bloodshed.) It’s not that we wanted to usurp the government - even within the Council itself, there was strong dissent to even considering this notion.

Mace would have gladly fallen on his lightsaber to see justice served. As would Kit. And Plo. And possibly Master Yoda.

But their souls were clean.

Mine, on the other hand…

It’s late Qui-gon, and I fear tomorrow will be an unpleasant day.

~~~

You once said, Qui-gon, that upon finding a confluence of paths, there is no correct direction, that, in the end, there was only a decision, and the consequences thereof.

I find myself in such a place.

It seems the news of my actions reached Mandalore before I did, the civil war now at an uneasy pause, Maul neutered (and what does that say about me, that I could not achieve this victory when Ahsoka could? Perhaps I am too close, too near that fault line to act as she could.)

But they do not know, Qui-gon, what I do. Ahsoka may look on in muted fury, Rex dipping his head as he comms Cody, his only words a soft we have him, Bo-Katan radiant with indignation - why could you have not done this before?

Before we both lost her, before Satine’s legacy was burnt to the ground, before it came to this.

They wrap me in cords and shackles and the best Jedi restraints Mandalore has to offer, dumping me in the same containment cell as him, who takes one look at my sorry state, who knows what sins are written on my soul.

Maul throws back his head, and cackles, the sound of a hundred broken mirrors.

They only have one, he says.

He doesn’t need to explain further.

The Mandalorian sarcophagus. We both saw it, that first time on Mandalore, Satine’s cheeks turning pink, then red, as she explained the true purpose of the monstrous devices.

We would never use them now, she said. There’s no need.

We can only hope, you answered.

And now, it is a question of who is the greater monster - the being born of blood and violence, or the one who accepted it into his heart.

He would have been his new apprentice, Maul drawls, with a sick smile.

I know, I answer. I do know, don’t I? Knew this entire time and yet could do nothing to stop it - until now.

Will you accept your fate, Kenobi? Be hauled back to Coruscant in chains, your allies grinning as your head falls from the blade?

I should. Damnit, I should, Qui-gon! I am a Jedi, I do not fear death, for there is only the Force.

And yet…

~~~

We are leaving, Qui-gon, Maul and I. To what end, I cannot say. Do not fear for me, Master of mine. I am long corrupted, past redemption in this life and can only hope to use my darkness for an ultimate good.

There is much to be done.

May I feel your soft hand on my cheek one more time, Qui-gon, if only in my dreams.

Please forgive me.

I am sorry.

Yours in this life and the next,

Obi-wan Kenobi.

#whumptober #whumptober 5 #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #darth maul #ahsoka tano #bo katan kryze #writing #the eternal struggle #i have no idea what this is #this just...SPROUTED from my being today #while the outline is the same the execution is VERY different from what i had envisioned #ah writing #i am not in charge here the characters are

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