#they almost killed the sith species I wouldn’t put it past them to kill a mando Jedi

[ice-6caydesqueen]

You know what the sad truth is tar vizsla was probably killed by the Jedi trying to defend his brothers and sisters after revans passing and his son and the other members of his team that’s the sad irony I guess that’s probably another reason why they hate the republic so much in swtor but that’s just my headcannon

[darthspideys]

antithesis // one

din djarin x jedi! reader 

summary: You expected to find another of yoda’s species, much less under the protection of a particularly stubborn mandalorian. Little do you know its that discovery that will change life as you know it, and put all three of you in danger you never saw coming. 

words: ~2k 

a/n: I really can’t believe that I'm finally posting this! I started this story more than a month ago, and I have been editing it and editing and editing which is not something that I normally do. I love this story, and I love this reader, and this story represents so much for me in terms of improving on my writing. Anyways welcome to the ride, hope you have fun :) 

disclaimer: I h8 baby yoda and it shows 

Disturbances in the force are easy enough to sense now. In the age of the empire, with Inquisitors, Darth Vader and The Emperor himself running around there was nothing but disturbance, a constant feeling of dread for those on the side of the light like any one of those sith could appear from around the next corner. Four years after the fall of the empire, things are calmer. It seems that the force is in balance, now that the emperor is dead though you know that since there are two jedi there have to be two sith somewhere else in the galaxy. 

There’s always the threat of some other powerful sith making its way out from the shadows, finally deciding to finish what Palpatine started. So when Luke senses a disturbance in the force on Tatooine, something slicing through the calm waves of power, the two of you are a little bit nervous about what that could be. You feel it too, once he mentions it, it’s so easy for you to brush past those kinds of feelings because you're so used to them. However when you focus in, you feel it too, something is off. 

You look back at Luke, who is staring down at his feet, not at the holo projector in front of the two of you and realize that whatever is happening on Tatooine isn’t the only thing that's off. You sense the uncertainty that he feels, and it confuses you, because it's not like the two of you havent been through this before. You tilt your head to the side, “Is there something I’m not seeing?” He doesn’t respond right away, “You seem uncertain.” 

“I’m not-” He doesn’t know what to say, “It’s not about this exactly.” 

You put your hand on his arm trying to pull him away from his thoughts, “Then what is it about?” 

He turns to you, and you suddenly realize how close the two of you are. He leans in, whatever it is he wants to say, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear it if they happen to walk in. Not that there’s a high chance of anyone disturbing you, most of the senators are afraid if you to say the least. As it turns out the fact that the Jedi had been absent from the galaxy for the entirety of the empire turned them into more myth than truth. People assumed it had all been somewhat of a legend, that people with glowing light swords and all that power couldn’t have possibly existed. Therefore seeing the two of you glowing light swords and all in the senate building almost everyday made people a little uncomfortable. 

He leans in, “I’m from Tatooine.” 

“I’m aware,” You say, a small smile beginning to form on your face. You think he’s setting up a kind of joke, and that he’s been messing with you this entire time. 

“I haven’t been back since my parents were killed.” 

You nod. He looks sadly at the floor, and you can feel the emotion coming off of him in jagged waves of hurt and a longing of some sort. You don’t ask, because he knows that you can sense it. “I’ll go, okay?” 

“Thank you.” 

You’re still standing there when Leia appears in the doorway, arms crossed. When he sees her, Luke says good luck to you and walks out of the room. Leia saunters down the stairs and stands in front of you with her arms crossed again. The only thing you can think is that she definitely has the disappointed mother look down pat. 

She asks, “What was that?” 

“What was what?” 

“What I just saw between the two of you.” 

“There was nothing, less than nothing. He wants me to go to the desert, what you just witnessed was a punishment.” 

She makes a face, “That is bad.” Then she pauses, “Don’t think that I don’t know what’s going on with you.” 

“Nothing is going on with me, not a single thing. I just hang out here or I’m going to some random planet to make sure nothing untoward is happening, and sometimes I pull out my laser sword and use it to cut down trees or something. That is my life, nothing is going on.” 

She doesn’t believe you and you can tell. You wish she wouldn’t look at you like that, you wish that no one knew about it. “Other than the fact that you're in love with my brother, of course,” She’s laughing at you which makes the whole thing worse somehow. 

“We are not talking about that,” Your voice gets way higher than you mean it too. You cough and try to lower it, “We are never talking about that because I have to go to Tatooine.” And with that you walk out of the room ceremoniously leaving Leia to just shake her head. 

Tatooine is just as terrible as you thought it would be. As soon as you get off your ship, your feet sink down into the sand which sends a chill through your body. It’s the kind of place where you can’t quite get your footing, because the wind is always blowing more sand around everything is always shifting. That and it’s unbearably hot, which is not helped by the sand. It seems to reflect the sun and make it even hotter. You hate it, and you wonder if Luke really meant what he said or if he just hates it here too. 

You give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s him, and the two of you have been through enough for you to assume that he did have a good reason for sending you here alone. You have no idea what that reason could possibly be, but you know it’s something. Ahead of you, you see what you think is a structure sticking out of a nearby cave. You walk forward and sink into the sand as you do, feeling lucky that you were born on a farm. 

As you get closer you see that it is a small structure built into the side of a cave so that it’s bigger. Right when you’re close enough to be seen, the hair on the back of your neck stands straight up and you duck as fast as you can. As soon as you're on the ground, a blaster bolt flies right over your head and you sigh. Whatever this is, there’s something guarding it that does not want to be found. You roll your eyes and try to get to a better position all while spitting sand out of your mouth. This is not going to be as easy as you thought it was. 

Instead of getting back onto your feet you roll to the side where there’s a large rock sticking out of the ground and get behind it. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have been right out into the open when you didn’t know what was ahead of you. Luke would have reminded you of that, if only he were here. 

Before you can finish your thought, a Mandalorian in full armor walks out of the structure and stands at the entrance with a blaster clutched in his hand. “Holy shit,” That shakes you to your core, you thought they were all gone or at least most of them. You duck down behind the rock again, trying not to make a sound. Suddenly you can’t catch your breath and you're panicking not because you're afraid but because of something else. More so than when you first got here, you regret coming and you regret coming alone. 

You climb to the top of the rock and try to peek over again. Normally there would be some kind of strategy involved but you’ve decided that you're just gonna show off a little bit and see what sticks. You jump on top of the rock, which is up higher than you realized and he starts shooting as soon as he sees you. 

You duck every shot and jump off the rock which lands you a few feet away from him. He takes a shot right at the head, and you stop it midair which is part of the showing off strategy. That surprises him, which you expected, the whole blaster bolt hanging in the air is quite something. You let it hang for a minute and then move a few inches to the right and let it go so it crashes into the rock. 

“Hello there,” You say and give a little wave. 

He lunges at you this time, dropping his blaster to the side once he realizes that it’s probably useless. Oh he wants to go hand to hand, you think and it makes you smile. He comes at you with a flurry of easily dodge-able kicks and punches to which you respond by coming back just as hard with your own. You push him back farther and father, not letting up so that he doesn't even have time to think that he could beat you. Soon enough you have him on the ground pinned using the force mostly but a bit of your own body weight. You blow straight hair out of your face and say, “That was fun, now you have something that I need.” 

And as if on cue a small green thing walks out of the opening and stands at your feet. “Holy fuck,” Your eyes widen as you realize that thing looks a lot like Yoda. You can feel it immediately, he is what you're looking for. “You have a little baby-“ 

He takes advantage of the fact that you're distracted and flips you over onto the ground so that he’s the one with the advantage. You curse again, your voice low, because it hurt when you hit the ground, badly enough that you can’t get back up. He looks at you and sighs before grabbing onto your leg and pulling you through the sand and into the hut. “So you're just gonna pull me? You're just gonna pull me through the sand through the disgusting sand, sir-“ when you hit hard ground and your head bounces up, “And now you're gonna drag me against rocks? Little inhumane don’t you think?” 

You can tell he’s glaring at you, even with the helmet as he drops your legs to the ground dramatically. The child stands at his feet watching the entire thing, “How did you find me?” 

“I don’t know if you know this, but that thing-“ Your eyes are fixed on the child, “Is a beacon to anyone who can use the force.” 

“The what?” 

You roll your eyes, “Why does that not surprise me?” He’s genuinely confused, and you can tell, though it's not going to stop you from pushing his buttons as much as you can.“I could explain, if you would just let me up-“ You try and sit up, but he points another blaster in your face. “Or not.” You raise your arms over your head, but he doesn’t seem like he’s getting the message. “Yeah okay this has been fun and all but-“ With one move of your finger the blaster flies out of his hand and against the wall the sound echoing throughout the cave. You take advantage of his confusion, and get to your feet, even though you're a little shaky and there’s a lot of sand in your hair. 

You pull your lightsaber out of its holster, surprised that he hasn’t noticed it there. You light it and hold it right at his throat. His beskar armor can repel lightsaber strikes, you know that but you're not sure he does, or at the very least the throat is open enough for you to kill him if need be. He steps back and raises his own arms in surrender, understanding that he’s beat for the most part. The blade glows bright green, reflecting off his armor barely, and you smile, “We’re gonna play nice now, okay?” 

He realizes something, “Jedi.” 

[letsmellowjello]

Long Time No See Pt. 2

Part 1, Part 2

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: Grief

Summary: You thought you would never see Poe again until he shows up on Kijimi years after he left.

Notes: This is a much shorter part but I felt like it was necessary because of how things went in tros.

Masterlist ~ Prompt/Request

“Poe! I’m going to miss you so much.” You attacked him with a bear hug just as he was about to get on the ship. “It was so good to see you again. Promise me that you’ll come back to visit, for real this time.”

“Yeah, you too y/n. I promise, as soon as all of this is over we’ll tour the galaxy. I love you so much Ladybug.” And with that, he turned back and got onto the ship. You waved at him as the doors closed and then followed Zorii back through the streets. You really hoped that you would see him again, your big brother, your hero. Seeing him had brought out the little seven year old kid in you waiting for him to come back just to say hi. You didn’t hate him, you never did. But some part of you knew that you might never see him again.

~

“Kimiji... how?” Poe felt like someone had taken all the air out of his lungs and then kicked him in the stomach. He had just returned back to the base on Ajan Kloss and found out the Leia was dead and now he had been told that Kimiji was gone. That meant that you were gone and so was Zorii.

“A blast from a star destroyer. A ship from the new Sith fleet out of the unknowns.” Commander D’Acy told him.

“Do you- do you mind if I take a minute?” Poe asked to no one in particular. D’Acy nodded silently and he stepped away into the trees not too far away. Once he was a respectable distance away he crumpled against the trunk of a tree with tears running down his cheeks silently.

You and Zorii were both dead. He had only just seen you for the first time in twelve years. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to spend enough time with you. The full force of the situation was finally hitting him; not only losing you, but losing Zorii, realizing that the Emperor now had a full fleet of planet destroying ships, realizing that they were fighting a losing battle, Leia being dead, everything. Poe just couldn’t take it anymore.

He put his head in his hands and just took deep breaths to calm himself when he head footsteps coming up from behind him. The newcomer crouched in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Hey...” Finn started in a soft voice. Poe looked up with red rimmed eyes. “It’s going to be alright.”

“They’re gone Finn. Y/n, Zorii, Leia. They’re all gone” He sniffled. Finn stood up with him and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay, at least they’re in a better place now away from all of this. They all lived good lives.”

“Y/n was too young! She was only nineteen! I didn’t even get to spend time with her...”

“Listen to me Poe,” Finn held him at arms length and forced him to look up from the ground. “I didn’t get to know y/n or Zorii very well, but I know for sure that they wouldn’t want you moping about. They would want you to get up and fight back. So would Leia.” At his words, Poe seemed to collect himself and wiped away his tears.

“You’re right Finn. Thank you.”

~

The comms were alive with frantic shouts and clamor. There were tie fighters everywhere and ships were being shot down left, right, and center.

“General! What’s our next move?” Someone asked but Poe couldn’t answer.

“Poe, what now?!” Another pilot asked frantically. All he could do was look across the carnage in the sky in despair. Just like on Creit, no one had come to help them.

“My friends...” his voice wavered as he addressed the entire Resistance fleet, “I’m sorry, I thought we had a shot. But there’s just too many of them.” The guilt, regret, and failure that he felt in that moment was overwhelming. It was enough to kill. Poe hated himself for bringing the Resistance to Exegol only for every single one of them to be slaughtered. He had brought them on a suicide mission that was doomed for failure.

No one on the comms spoke. You could almost hear the grief and intense sadness that everyone felt. But then a different voice spoke up.

“But there are more of us Poe.” That one simple sentence was enough to breath life and hope back into the pilot. “There are more of us.” It was Lando. Stars, Poe would kiss him if he could. He pulled his ship up above the fleet of star destroyers and was greeted by the most beautiful and amazing sight he had ever seen. Ships of all shapes and sizes, for all means and purposes hovered in the air awaiting his command and more kept coming. Poe didn’t think he had ever seen so many ships in the air all together before.

“Look at this,” he breathed in total awe, tears of joy almost spilling over onto his cheeks. “Look at this! Hit those underbelly cannons! Every one we knock out is a world saved!” He commanded. The ships all flew forward into action, taking out as many cannons as possible. 

Poe saw two ships fly in front of him, both shooting at a cannon blowing it up and the destroyer with it.

“So long sky trash!” A familiar voice laughed through the comms. Poe couldn’t believe his ears.

“Who’s that flyer?” He asked incredulously. 

“Take a guess spice runner!” Zorii responded. You, in your own ship, whooped and laughed through the comms as you took out a tie fighter in front of Poe.

“Zorii! Y/n! You made it!” He cheered.

“You bet your ass!” You couldn’t help but smile at how happy he sounded. Despite the grave circumstances, you were just happy to be able to hear his voice again.

~

There were people everywhere of every species and race crowded on the Resistance base of Ajan Kloss. It was a celebration for the success on Exegol. Emotions were running high as people reunited with their loved ones. You landed you ship, careful not to squash anyone. After you climbed out you made your way over to where Zorii was, giving her a huge hug.

“Are you alright y/n? Are you hurt?” She asked, her big sister side coming out.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You pushed her hands away as she checked you for any damage. “Have you seen- Poe!” You exclaimed when you finally caught sight of him. He turned at the sound of his name and saw you barreling towards him. You threw your helmet to the side and jumped into his arms as he engulfed you in a hug.

“Ladybug! Oh Maker I’m so happy to see you! Are you alright?” He set you down making sure that you were okay just like Zorii had done moments before but you just swatted him away. “How did you learn to fly like that? That was amazing!”

“Like I said, a lot has changed. But thank you.”

“When I heard about Kimiji I thought you were dead! How did you get out?”

“Shortly after you left, Zorii and I packed out bags and made friends with some people who were able to get us out past the hyper lanes. I had a feeling that we needed to leave.”

“Y/n you have no idea how good it is to see you again.” He brought you in for another hug. You could stay like that for the rest of your life if it was possible. In the loving embrace of your role model, your older brother, your hero. No matter what happened, no matter what he had done or what he might do, you would always love him. 

“So, how bout that galaxy tour you were talking about earlier?” You asked after a moment with a wide smile on your face.

“One thing at a time Ladybug, one thing at a time.” He laughed and hugged you tighter.

[headtothecoast]

jedi!geraskier au

*i am taking lots of liberties with the world of star wars

geralt learned early that he was force sensitive and was taken from his family and placed into kaher morhen - a jedi temple in the beginnings of the foundation of the republic (not the empire and vader this is set way the hell in the past). the training there was rough and force sensitivity was rare. while some were good pilots and others good at combat, geralt preferred combat. he was taught to distance himself emotionally and that by closing himself off from emotions he wouldn’t become a sith.

because the republic was just starting out but kaher morhen has been around for a long time, geralt was often sent on missions across the galaxy to settle disputes. usually, a side would approach the jedi offering why they believed they were right and the jedi would take in the scene and offe aid to those who did the least harm. they made judgements of good and evil amongst men of all species but did not seek power. (like, qui-gon was supposed to protect a princess from invaders, but also made decisions about judging other species and freeing slaves and backed up a slave over a trader so i’m making the jedi like arbiters).

one of geralt first assignments goes poorly to say the least. it was a shitshow. blaviken was a small outpost that had been the center of trade for a region. the locals had had a sort of royalty that had recently seen a conflict and geralt had been asked to go because another jedi was involved and should things come to blows geralt was a skilled fighter. when he arrived he met renfri and liked her, met irion and liked him less by tried to stay impartial. both sides disagreed with the other and geralt was unsure how to choose. before taking his leave one night renfri agreed to surrender the next day, saying she would follow the lead of a neighboring port tridam and not force a jedi to make an ultimatum she could fix. it took geralt several hours to remember that tridam had been an interplanetary incident where a sith had killed the people of a town until a jedi had surrendered. geralt rushed back to town to stop renfri from killing innocents and took out her followers and geralt realized that irion was not a jedi but a sith - his experimentations and obsession had given him away and so even though he was forced to kill renfri he chose to kill stregobor (sith name) and was stoned while leaving the outpost of blaviken. when he returned to explain himself jedi master vesemir wasn’t happy that a sith had been able to exist so long undetected and told geralt what he told many past apprentices, that right and wrong were difficult choices and that geralt needed to trust in the force.

skip forward a while. the republic is slowly building itself and democracy is spreading throughout the inner planets. there are many species of many worlds all that live very different lifetimes. war broke out on geralts home planet rivia. the royal family of oxenfurt was forced to flee and a puppet government took its place, subjugating a lot of the planets people and overall not a good thing.

while geralt was on a mission in posada, seeking the rumors of someone force sensitive to bring them to be trained or killed if sith. what geralt found was jaskier, a bard by the look of him who had an uncanny ability to sing and effect people’s emotions, leading them foot his bills. while geralt contemplated how best to approach the bard he found himself sitting across from him. jaskier tried to put as much force charm into his voice as he could but geralt was uneffected and drew his lightsaber, thinking jaskier to be a sith. jaskier asked him what the hell a sith was and said he was only trying to make his intentions as obvious as possible and be friendly to a newcomer he meant no offense. jaskier, not as in tune with the more physical aspects of the force, had instead found ways to read people’s emotional states and manipulate them to an extent. he hadn’t exactly known he was doing that but geralt could feel his honest intentions through the force and told him he had the force and that he had been sent to collect him and bring him before the jedi at kaher morhen. jaskier thought that sounded amazing and he could get off the godforsaken planet but geralt made him promise not to use his “jedi mind tricks” again until they got to the temple.

so geralt and jaskier traveled back to a space port where jaskier was invited to sing for a gathering of local nobility and he asked geralt to come with him to keep him safe from other men and geralt kinda had to go because he didn’t want to cause a problem but he ends up stepping in and it’s a clusterfuck that ends with the local law of surprise and a headache. (not entirely sure how to describe all the players and role of the force in this without magic so sadly moving on)

all the way back to the temple jaskier annoys geralt and sings about him and isn’t scared of him, he was called the butcher of blaviken and was not a highly respected jedi for a long time but jaskier didn’t seem to care.

when they returned vesemir made geralt a jedi master and jaskier got to make a decision about his training. geralt was chosen to take him as an apprentice and after training him in combat (which he sucked at and was much better at talking himself out of situations) the two set out on a mission to go find jaskier a kyber crystal to build him a lightsaber.

cue montage of geralt being exasperated and jaskier writing songs about him and geralt proclaiming that jedi don’t feel emotions and jaskier raising hell about that because he clearly felt as geralt did, they were from the same planet and surely geralt couldn’t mean that with how much he cared about helping people.

when they finally reach the remote place it is a cave that jaskier insists geralt come with him to help him pick out a crystal. he had questioned geralt about the colors and given that geralts lightsaber was yellow, like his eyes, and the only golden yellow saber he had seen at the temple he questioned him even more.

geralt explained that the gold came from his skill in combat and his strength that he used to protect others (i am going off a lot of interpretations of color none of which are accurate bear with me). bright yellow belonged to the sentinels, but his was almost an orange or brown, which spoke to his strength.

when jaskier went into the cave he came out with a light green almost yellow blade. the sort of blade forged through intrigue and belonged with someone who had skills in the force more than in combat.

but when jaskier was picking his crystal, being surrounded by the force in a way he never had been was overwhelming, he did not have proper restraint of his emotions and could almost taste geralts restraint and frustration and hurt over blaviken and so many pent up emotions. jaskier looked into the force and asked geralt if he wanted peace.

the physical backlash that jaskier faced through pulling the thorn of blaviken out of his mind and preventing it from festering knocked him out cold for several weeks. geralt wanted to be upset but whatever jaskier had done had lifted a burden, he felt more in tune with the force and more in tune with others. the healer, yennifer, noticed this sense of peace in geralt and asked him about it while jaskier slept. the two grew close and yennifer admitted to her own desires over children and inability to find peace like her master wanted.

when jaskier woke he found the two were friends and he tried to apologize to geralt about the whole crystal incident but geralt didn’t seem to mind. he felt a sense of balance and thanked jaskier for it.

meanwhile vesemir heard about the whole thing and decided to take geralts charge and teach him proper control. jaskier wasn’t thrilled but he endured. 2 years he was gone and geralt slowly realized that he had been coasting off the waves of calm and peace jaskier had left him and he had never properly said how thankful he was to not carry that pain with him every day. it felt like being healed.

when jaskier returned he was quieter. geralt didn’t like it one bit. vesemir gave the two an assignment to test jaskiers newfound resolve and slowly, geralt was able to coax out remenants of the man he knew. one day when geralt made jaskier laugh so loud he startled roach (their ride that geralt insisted on using and taking care of and jaskier swears he saw geralt sneaking her treats) jaskier froze and apologized and said he needed time to himself and left camp for a couple hours.

when jaskier didn’t return after a couple hours geralt found him sitting on a rock crying while making another rock float above his hand. it sounded like he was trying and failing to control his breathing and when geralt startled him jaskier dropped the rock but didn’t retract his hand and geralt force caught it but it was a near thing. geralt asked what the hell he thought he was doing and jaskier explained vesemir’s training.

in the cave, what jaskier did could have killed geralt. geralt who vesemir valued and loved like a son and so he taught jaskier control. vesemir would take a fish in water and hold its shape, passing it off to jaskier who would have to hold the shape of the water because if he let go the fish would die. jaskier are fish like other animals out of necessity but he wasn’t cruel. vesemir names every fish geralt until jaskier could keep the shape for hours. he would push through the crying and the shame and make sure the fish stayed alive. then they moved to other animals but jaskier couldn’t bring himself to risk hurting something so he put the rock above his hands so that if he lost control he would be the only one harmed and he had been trying so hard to do as vesemir had instructed to maintain control and balance but jaskier felt miserable and unbalanced and it made geralts heart hurt.

geralt doesn’t mind if jaskier feels everything, every emotion through the force because he doesn’t try to focus on the good or the bad, he feels it all. sith seek pleasure or pain but jaskier laughs and cries in equal measure and above all tries to help so geralt can’t see that as a fault even if vesemir thought what he did was best.

geralt says as much to jaskier and says he will never let someone else hurt him and that he’d missed him because yennifer might be one of the few jedi he’s comfortable talking to since his newfound peace but jaskier had chosen to endure his festering and pain regardless and if geralt had to choose between peace and jaskier he would choose jaskier.

jaskier allows himself to feel true happiness and he and geralt get on and when the mission comes to an end they have found a rhythm. when they return to the temple the jedi can sense their in-tune-ness, their peace and resolve and trust. they take assignments together and occasionally apart and sometimes yennifer joins them but when they work together they feel more connected and alive than ever.

then, cintra falls.

jaskier had taken a solo assignment on a planet geralt can’t remember so he turns to yennifer and the two go and rescue ciri, geralt’s child surprise from the invading army. technically, she is supposed to remain with geralt and under his care but he can feel the force that flows between ciri and yennifer is as strong if not stronger than the force that flows through him and ciri and while he would do anything for her, jaskier hadn’t finished his last mission on time and geralt is worried. yennifer pushes him to go after him and promises to take care of ciri and he believes her. that is when the temple gets news that a member of the royal family of rivia has been found and is being brought for execution. war is stirring on rivia and geralt is sent to stop it, he tried to keep his eyes peeled for jaskier but he knows that he will have to put the lives of millions above the one.

the execution is a public affair and geralt weaves his way through the crowd to get a good look at the member of the royal family that hasn’t been seen in decades. when the doors open and release a woman clothed in rags geralt comes alive not of his own volition, but because he can feel jaskiers presence in the crowd. the woman he realizes seems to be searching the crowd for something and when she sees it bows her head and smiles. it is then that geralt spots jaskier - slicing off the head of the puppet king. jaskier does not look happy so much as determined. geralt springs in to action, preventing the beast from slaying the women and he and the woman have make their way to the top of the stadium to join jaskier.

jaskier announces to the crowd that the queen and prince of rivia are home and that effective immediately all those who had been enslaved under the new regime are to be freed or face the jedi prince jaskier themselves.

geralt is stunned and jaskier leads him and his mother away from the stadium and back to the old palace where jaskier remembered growing up. there he finds people who remember him and his mother and will take care of her until he has dealt with the other dissidents in his kingdom and leads geralt somewhere private.

geralt has been silent the whole time and jaskier forces himself not to ramble but for geralt to please say something anything. and geralt asks why he didn’t tell him. jaskier says it was to protect his mother. shortly after leaving the planet his father had been killed and it was just him and his mom fending for themselves and when geralt had spotted him in posada it was because he was trying to throw puppet government goons off his moms trail and lure them away. it worked but not forever.

geralt asked him how it was possible to hide such a thing from him in the force and jaskier holds geralts hand and lets the entirety of the force flow through the both of them. geralt can feel the strength of it and is staggered. jaskier explains that he had some measure of control because if he didn’t he would have torn the world apart in grief only to reassemble it in euphoria and his mom had taught him how to shelter certain thoughts but the experience in the cave had heightened everything, including his ability to shield the single secret in the force. his mom shielded herself and jaskier promised he would do the same.

jaskier apologizes and tells geralt that it wasn’t his intention to hurt him but he couldn’t expose his mom and suddenly geralt is holding jaskier and jaskier is crying. geralt tells him that it’ll be okay and that he was hurt but he understands and geralt, after having felt the strength of jaskiers emotions tried to project his own emotions through the force to him, of calm and protection and jaskier gasps and pushed back and suddenly geralt is kissing him because jaskier was absolutely radiating love through the force and it was the freest he’d ever felt.

sure they would have to explain some things to the jedi council, and when jaskiers mother passed and left him the thrown there would be more problems than solutions on their plate, but geralt promised he would protect jaskier at all costs and he’d fight the whole galaxy if he had to to keep this man in his arms.

*okay so i haven’t seen the new star wars movies and do i really know how the force works? no. do i care? no. i know that jedi have a weird relationship to emotions, and that sith use the force for personal gain and that strong emotions *cough* anakin *cough* are said to lead to the dark side but like,,, i don’t care.

**yennifer has a purple lightsaber for moral ambiguity and ciri is blue for justice and protection. i chose gold for geralt because it was strength and skill and while i believe he has qualities of blue, it also matched his eyes which was a good benefit. jaskier felt like a mix of colors also so i chose green and feel free to disagree because again, i don’t know a whole lot about star wars cannon because it is almost as confusing as witcher cannon (timeline anyone?)

***i couldn’t think of a solid characterization for yennifer or world building place for roach, sorry they’re shaky. also - i don’t hate vesemir or anything i just think he would be over protective and i needed a way to show jaskier change i love all the witchers and if i really wanted to make thing l o n g e r i could have included eskel and lambert and everything but it already felt long so like, they are missing (from this head cannon/almost fic) but not forgotten.

finally, if you want to write this as a fic or run with the idea or just like, i really don’t care please do! tag me in anything you think would be related or something idk this got really long and i don’t know how to end it but it was fun writing it.

[siqqet]

So here’s the... thing... The writing.... With Soph and Thassie....

“Um, sir?” Ensign Soraimo questioned, staring ahead, a bemused expression on his face. He had been called into the Commander’s office to address the recent disaster he had caused, and had been expecting the worst. The Commander, an ex-Sith, was known for dishing out harsh punishments, though Soraimo had heard whispers from older Imperials who had served under her while she still sat on the Dark Council that she had toned it down since the arrival of Republic citizens in order to maintain their support. They asserted that back in the day she had been entirely without mercy, torturing and killing soldiers for the slightest of misdeeds, so when Soraimo had entered the chamber, trembling in anticipatory terror, soot from the explosion still staining his shoulders, he thought he would be met with anger, and probably Force-lightning. Instead, the Commander sat at her desk, a serene, if not slightly entertained expression crossing her pale face and a young child balancing on her knee.

Soraimo recognized the child as Thassande, the adopted daughter of the Commander and her lovers, Beniko and Shan, though most people assumed a relation between her and the child, as they were of the same species and shared many traits. What Soraimo didn’t understand was what she was doing here. Surely a disciplinary meeting was no place for a kid, especially as Soraimo knew his punishment would have to be severe.

If the Commander agreed with him, though, she didn’t show it, keeping a steady eye locked on him, ignoring the child squirming on her lap, unable to keep still for even a second, and Soraimo was hardly in a place to challenge her lack of professionalism. When the Commander spoke, Soraimo startled, having been too lost in the confounding details of the situation that he had momentarily forgotten why he was there.

“Am I to understand that it is you, Ensign Firne Soraimo, who lost us thousands of credits worth of experimental technology?” Despite her calm expression, her voice was cold, scathing. Soraimo winced. His eyes lowered as he stared at the floor in shame and fear, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his uniform.

“Yes, sir.” he mumbled.

The Commander made a small noise that Soraimo tagged as disapproval, and out of the edge of his vision, he saw her shift in her chair, the leather of her skirt creaking as it moved against the leather of her chair. When he looked up, she was leaning forward now, body curled so that her elbows could rest on the desk while still providing room for Thassande, who giggled quietly to herself, to poke through. The Commander’s expression held more gravity.

“It is difficult to find parts for a stealth ship, you understand,” she said and Soraimo couldn’t meet her eyes. He had always thought Sith had creepy eyes, but the anger behind them had never been directed at him. He didn’t want to see if it was now.

The Commander continued. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how costly the war with Zakuul was, or how hard it is to find usable parts for such sophisticated technology. You fought beside me. You should be well aware of the scarcity.”

Soraimo nodded. He remembered well, but it wasn’t as if he had destroyed the fighter on purpose. He felt suddenly defensive.

“It was hardly my fault, sir. If we could just standardize the measuring systems, I wouldn’t have run out of fuel!” he blurted out.

“Silence!” The Commander snapped in return, glaring at him over her daughter’s head. He noticed the wrinkle of anger in her furrowed brow aligned perfectly with the white markings on her face. “You dare tell me what to do, Ensign? After the catastrophe you have caused?” She did not yell at him; her voice remained at regular speaking volume, and rather level, but beneath it there was an edge, a venom that told Soraimo that he had overstepped. Of course he had. He had no right telling the Commander how to run her alliance. Besides, his suggestion hadn’t even been useful. Officially, the units of measurement were standardized, despite the shortcuts some Imperial soldiers took. They followed Republic units, which Soraimo could never follow, hence his disastrous mistake. He had no place exclaiming like that.

A giggle sounded, contrasting the Commander’s frosty tone and Soraimo’s silent guilt. Thassande grinned at him, her eyes glinting with a mischief Soraimo expected from the daughter of two Sith and a SIS agent, though that wasn’t the only unsettling thing about her expression, he realized. Although the smile on her tiny face should have been cute, a chill went down Soraimo’s spine when he saw that every one of her teeth were pointed. She laughed again, a knowing smirk replacing the dangerous-looking smile.

“Careful, mister. Isla’s mad at you.” she said. Her tone was so sincere that Soraimo would have believed it to be a genuine warning had he not seen her expression.  He also took note of what the young girl called her mother, pondering it for a second before realizing that since she had two mothers, it was logical to call the Commander by what Soraimo assumed was either her given name or a nickname. As he considered this, Thassande shifted, trying to straighten up, but only succeeding in driving her miniature montrals into her mother’s chin, causing the Commander to hiss in pain and surprise. In reaction, the Commander leaned back again, giving Thassande more room to move around, though she put her hands on the child’s hips to keep her from wiggling so much. Soraimo thought he heard her murmur “Mind yourself, love,” but thought it best to stay still and silent until the Commander had shifted her focus back to him. She stared at him for a long time before speaking again.

“Ensign Soraimo, your carelessness has caused us quite a setback. We will have to find new parts and--”

“You couldn’t scavenge anything?” he cut in, then winced at his mistake. He had spoken on impulse alone, his nervousness making him hasty.

The look the Commander gave him made him want to sink into the floor and the silence before she spoke was longer than the last.

“It was... Completely... Destroyed.” She said slowly, clearly, enunciating the words. Soraimo felt awful. He hadn’t meant to cause that much carnage. Well, he hadn’t meant to cause any, but this was a level of destruction he hadn’t thought he could have been capable of. It was disheartening, and terrifying.

Thassande decided to take the pause during which Soraimo’s soul was withering away in disgrace to pipe in. “It- It was a huge Ka-Boom!” she announced, excitement filling her voice. “I saw it- I saw it from my room! There was so much fire!” Thassande said, spreading her arms wide to demonstrate her understanding of the scale to the best of her ability.

Soraimo found her enthusiasm a bit offputting, but he supposed a four year old didn’t really have the emotional intelligence to understand the gravity of the situation. If he hadn’t had his life on the line, he might have thought it was cute.

“There was so much fire.” The Commander added, the faintest hint of amusement in her voice.

“You are fortunate no one was hurt, or else deciding what to do with you would be a lot easier for me, but a lot less pleasant for you, I suspect.” she said and Soraimo groaned internally. He wouldn’t exactly call the situation he was in ‘lucky’.

“My punishment, then, sir?” He asked, trying to keep his voice as professional and to-the-point as possible, though there was a slight tremor to it. The smirk on the Commander’s face seemed to drink up his fear, but this time he did not look away, even as his legs shook beneath him. The beat between his question and her reply seemed to stretch an eternity.

“Hmm...” The Commander stared past him, drawing the intermission out even further. Soraimo thought he might vomit from the anxiety.

She looked down, eyes fixed on the small child sat across her thighs who in turn looked up to meet her mother’s glance. “Advisor Thassande, what punishment do you recommend for Ensign Soraimo?”

The Commander’s voice was completely serious as she posed the question. Thassande’s eyes lit up and she gave a happy wiggle, seeming to like being asked her opinion. Once again, Soraimo wasn’t entirely sure how to react.

Thassande deliberated for a moment, humming and hawing over her decision, leaving Soraimo in limbo, unsure if he should be scared or not. Occasionally she’d stretch up to whisper something against her mother’s montrals, at which point the Commander would nod briskly and Thassande would go back to thinking. Finally, finally, she broke the silence, though with a laugh that sounded impressively evil for such an adorable child. Soraimo registered with a start that this was a Sith child, and that there was a very real possibility that her verdict may have been just as nasty as the Commander’s.

“Um, you’re... Um, you’ve gotta go to time out for the... the, um rest of the day and you’re not allowed to play-- to play with your toys... Your ships.” Thassande stammered out her best impression of a grown-up, though her high-pitched voice and speech impediment along with the characteristic hesitation of a child made the delivery kind of endearing. The punishment itself was monumentally less cruel than Soraimo would have predicted, given the situation, and he almost didn’t want to glance at the Commander for her confirmation.

When their eyes met, a soft smile crossed the Commander’s face, amused and loving, though it hardened after a second when she started to speak. “You heard her, Ensign. You are to remain in your bunk until dinner and you are to be reassigned from duty in the hangar. Check in with your Captain tomorrow, I will give her the details of your new assignment. You are dismissed.” She instructed and Soraimo nearly collapsed in relief. Not only was that a lenient punishment from the Commander, it was a lenient punishment in general. Thank the stars for Thassande’s input.

“Yes, sir!” He saluted the Commander as he stumbled towards the door, his body feeling like jelly now that the panic was wearing off. After a split second of consideration, he also offered a salute to Thassande, who giggled and waved at him. Unexpectedly, the Commander also laughed, though hers was a deep rumble.

“You’re lucky your mess caused too much of a stir-up for me to find a babysitter.” Her eyes bored into him as he wobbled out the door. “Any further mistakes will bear a much less... merciful result.”

[pulpwriterx]

Ben Solo, Gladiator.  Part 2 : Lost, Stolen, Sold?

***

Prime Minister Organa-Solo was on pins and needles all day.

She hadn’t made any appointments, because she knew she would not have been able to keep them.

She locked Poe and Finn in her office when he arrived.

“Well, was it Ben?” Leia asked Poe.

“It was the Chief! I know Ren, I was in his command crew! Me and Poe got a seat in front…”

***

About a half hour into the spectacle, the Ringmaster came out to thunderous cheers.

Almost everybody but Finn and Poe knew what was about to happen.

“Ladies and gentlemen of all races and species! This is the moment you have been waiting for. I give you your champion! The Wookiee!”

Four other Wookies led a huge man bound in chains into the center ring.

He wore nothing but a Wookiee battle helmet and arm-guards, a short kilt or skirt of something that looked like interlinked rows of black flaps of carbon-fiber armor, an ordinary pair of black exercise shorts, and a pair of dusty Imperial boots.

The gladiator the called the Wookiee strained a little to the left and the right and then, with a great roar, he snapped all his chains like they were made of paper.

The crowd roared.

The gladiator ignited that familiar red lightsaber and the crowd roared, louder.

“Vengeance is mine! Valhalla, I am coming!” the Wookiee roared.

He fought three well-armed and fully dressed former Imperial officers at a time, killing them all, and one black-robed Sith, who also had a lightsaber.

They were not, Finn observed, First Order Officers.

“Those are Imperials, Poe. Old Imperials. Men who were officers for the Empire.” Finn pointed out.

“What difference would that make?”

“They aren’t his people. Our people. First Order guys. We had some Imperials on the Finalizer, but they were all pilots. The old Imperial officers, they were Snoke’s guys. Most of them were pretty brutal, and universally despised. Even by First Order officers. The Chief’s war isn’t over. As long as one of them is alive? He can’t stop fighting.”

Poe nodded, understanding dawning on him.

Ben, because it was Ben, danced his Imperial opponents around for show, to please the audience, but he had to genuinely fight the Sith.

Finn and Poe knew he would win, and they knew he would either cut the man in half or take his head.

Ben did both.

He swung his lightsaber, forehand and cut the Sith in half, and then decapitated him on the backswing.

He caught the head as it was falling and held it up to the crowd.

The eyes were still blinking, and the mouth gaped in shock.

He walked around the bloody ring, shouting, and brandishing the head.

“Thus always to my enemies! Death to the Imperials of the First Empire! Death to the Sith! They are the ghosts of the past and they must die! And I will kill them all!”

The crowd roared.

“Send them all to Hell, Chief!” someone yelled.

Finn stood up.

“Four more for us, Chief!” he yelled.

There was a scattered cheer, from the crowd.

“I will hunt them to the last man, woman and child, my brothers and sisters!” Ben promised.

“The Chief was a good commander. He never asked us to do anything he wouldn’t do. We followed him because he was a good commander and we respected him. Not because we feared or hated him. That kind of loyalty doesn’t go away.” Finn explained.

As everyone began to file out, Finn and Poe made a beeline for the exit.

Poe went one way to look for Ben, Finn went the other.

Finn went out the rear door.

Behind the arena, under a large metal awning against the near-constant Arkanian rains there was a row of stalls.

Ben was standing in one, taking off his bloody armor.

There was hay on this dirt floor, and every gladiator had a stall.

Finn was so embarrassed for his Chieftain that he tried to leave without being seen.

“Hey, soldier! FN2187! I hear you got a name now. Finn. That’s funny, because I lost two names along the way. I’m not dead. You’re not being haunted. Come over here and talk to me.”

Finn turned around.

His Chieftain was smiling at him.

Finn went over to the wooden stall, even though he was almost overpowered by the smell of blood, gore and sweat.

The man who had been Kylo Ren was encrusted with all of that, along with a coating of thick Arkanian mud.

In a stall, with hay on the floor, like an animal might have.

With a collar around his neck, to keep him from escaping.

It made Finn think of when he had served under this man, and how they had called him “My Chieftain” or just “Chief”

He had been a good commanding officer.

They had feared Smoke, but loved Kylo Ren; he had always been one of them

Whatever fate the man deserved, this was worse.

When Finn got close enough, Ben trapped him in a back-slapping, hearty man-hug.

“How the fuck are you? I didn’t hurt you too bad on Starkiller Base, huh? I’m sorry, Finn. It was the betrayal that hurt me. I didn’t know what you knew then. That I could escape. That l could be free.”

“Chief, you’re not free, yet. What are you doing here?”

“My time. Like you said. That’s four less of the bastards who enslaved us. Four more for us.”

“Poe! Come here! I have to get you out of here, Chief. It’s not worth it. You can’t be in this place like a slave. Like an animal. It’s not right. Maybe you deserved punishment, but you…we changed. Both of us. We switched sides. I killed a lot of people when I was a Stormtrooper, too. But I made up for it, and I’m still trying to. I mean, you and Rey pretty much won the war. And people say Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren. So, you don’t have to hide out here. You’re a free man, now. You don’t have to live like this.”

“I’m not hiding out. I’m making up for my crimes. Doing time for them, anyway.”

“Not like this, Chief. I know it’s hard to accept freedom. To live with what you did in the past. But doing this won’t help.”

Poe walked up beside Finn.

“Ben? Holy Mother Force! I was really hoping that wasn’t you! How did you…never mind. We’re going to get you out of here.”

“I can’t just leave. You see this iron collar around my neck? It’s not just to attach shackles to. It’s a shock collar. If I go too far? It's a humane death. A quick shock, and I’m bantha fodder.”

Finn looked away.

“This is worse than the First Order. So much worse.” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Ben, what the fark? If you try to leave, they shock you to death? You’re like my unofficial little brother. You think I’m going to leave you like this? I’ll get money. Lots of money. Your mother’s loaded. How can you stand the smell?” Poe persisted.

Ben laughed, sadly.

“You get used to the smell. And I don’t want to go. You guys should free somebody who’s here against his will.  I sold myself into slavery for five years. I might make it ten. It was good to see you both. I’m glad you found your way back. But there isn’t one for me. I’d like to talk to you guys for longer, but a very rich lady paid the Ringmaster a lot of money for my company, this evening, and I have to go take a shower and a bath. I’m doing hard time, you know.”

He winked at them.

“Who?” Poe asked.

“Did you see the Askajian Princess? She’s a big girl, but in all the right places, and she is six feet tall. Blonde. Blue-eyes. Beautiful. And you know Askajian women have four sets of tits. I saw her in one of the private boxes. That means she paid good money for the show, and for me. She always tells me I’m her favorite. Maybe she’ll buy me from the Ringmaster and keep me on a big pink cushion at the foot of her throne. A man can dream, can’t he?”

Ben winked.

“Its not all bad. I’ll see you guys around. I’ve got to go drown my angst in a beautiful woman.”

***

“Did you see anybody like that, Poe?”

“Yes. But I also saw Hela Darkstar. Ben was waving that head at her like it was a long-stemmed red rose. And she did keep him, as a concubine, once. For six months. He bet his ass on a hand of Sabacc, and lost. It took Han six months to negotiate a price with Fenrir Darkstar, and I was there the day he paid it. Ben didn’t want to go. And Hela didn’t want to let him.”

“I remember her. She was Thursday. And even when she didn’t show? Nobody else was Thursday. We’d better hurry. If Hela buys the Chief back from the Ringmaster? Why the fuck would he want to come with us?”

***

Leia put her head down on her desk.

“I’ve been trying to get that hellhole shut down for decades. Now they have my son. Fighting him like a dog and breeding him like a bull. Meanwhile,  I can give out fifty executive orders. The Darkstars will never carry them out. Unlike her father, Hela isn’t a big fan of the Arena, but she tells me it brings in a quarter of the revenue Arkanis gets. More, in a slow year.  She can’t just shut it down. Otherwise, who the hell would go to Arkanis? I keep telling the Senate, if we re-opened the old Imperial Academy as a branch of the Republic Academy then the Clans could afford to shut down the Arena. But it’s the Outer Rim. Nobody cares. Maybe they will, now. Did you find out how much Ragnar wants for Ben?”

“Two million in Imperial Gold Coins.” Poe replied

“Ben has that. I don’t know where he’s hidden it, though.”

“But I think Ragnar Darkstar would sell to his cousin and Chieftain for less.”

“Hela?”

“I saw her there. So did Ben. He told us an Askajian princess had purchased him for the evening, but I think it was Hela. Because it was Thursday. If she buys his freedom and takes him away? She’ll give him back his great-grandfather Kylo Skywalker’s clan. And Ben will have no reason to ever come home.”

“Yes he will.”

“You mean Rey?”

“I mean Rey. I hate for her to see him in that place, but there’s nothing else we can do. That Twi-lek trader? Fix it so he innocently tells Rey the story. She’s our only hope. I can’t just go bust him out. But she can.”

***

“Ben, what are you doing in this terrible place? You’re breaking my black heart. I hate this Arena, but my planet would starve without it. But seeing you here? I want to kill my cousin Ragnar, free you all, and burn this place to the ground.”

“I’m not going with you, Hela.”

“You are the son of Leia Skywalker, the grandson of Anakin Skywalker, the great-grandson of Kylo Skywalker, the rightful Chieftain of the Raven Clan. The scion of the usuper doesn’t deserve your birthright. Why let him have it? You took Kylo’s name. Now take your birthright, Ben. We’ll take it, together.”

“Going to war with you to free my people? It’s tempting, Hela. But I’m not worth to be Chieftain of the Raven Clan. I’m not worthy to be Ben Solo. I’m not worthy to be anything but what I am. So, are you really going to waste your money talking all night?”

Hela shoved a chest full of Imperial Gold Coins at his feet.

“That’s 500 large, in Imperial Gold Coins, and you’re worth every one, you son of a bitch. Like it or not? You’re coming with me. I gave Ragnar two weeks, at the most, to finish your bookings? And then? You’re all mine. Again.”

Hela Darkstar was wearing her long red hair loose, and her Arkanian tattoos, and nothing else but the dagger strapped to her round white thigh.

She was sitting in a big, overstuffed chair.

“You can’t just buy me, Hela. This is my punishment, for the wrong I've done.”

“I can so just buy you, Ben. I spent a small fortune out-bidding that Askajian Amazon, just for tonight. You want punishment?”

She opened her legs as far as they would go.

“Kneel down on the rug, right about here and I’ll punish you. I’ll fucking drown you, and at these prices, you’d better lick it up and swallow every drop.”

“Don’t you even want me to take a bath?” Ben asked, laughing.

“Later. Right now? You want to be a cheap man whore? I’ll farkling well treat you like one. I’ll have you fine and filthy, and fuck you right on the goddamn floor.”

“You and I both know I don’t come cheap.”

Hela winced.

“That was a terrible pun! Get on your knees and beg my forgiveness for saying it!”

***

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Hela Darkstar, Chieftain of the Wolf Clan, High Chieftain of all the Clans of Arkanis, sniffed Prince Organa-Solo's hair.

“Nope. Still smells a little like bantha shit. I have to wash it, again.”

“I can do this, myself.”

“Ben, when you do things, yourself, without a smart woman around? You fuck up.”

Hela washed his hair, again, and rinsed it.

“Now we’re clean. But this water isn’t. I’m getting out. Parlay in the bedroom?”

“Parlay for what?”

“That chest of Imperial Gold Coins.”

Ben was still drying his hair with a towel when he came out.

“I’m listening.”

“Fucking pirate. So, is being a man whore the way you thought it would be in your fantasy of ‘By the Force, yes, women are going to pay to have sex with me? Where do I sign?’ Or do you find the whole thing a little demeaning?”

“Most of the time? It’s just like any man’s dumb teenage fantasy come true. But some of these women? Demeaning isn’t even the word. I’ve been asked to do some really weird things. Disturbingly so. And when I refuse?  Ragnar yells at me because he had to give people their money back. And some of these girls who just wanted, you know, the usual? They were awful to me. They treated me like I was…”

“A slave? A whore?”

“Speaking of which? General Pryde paid for an evening with me. Ragnar just looked at me when I said, ‘Go ahead, take his money. He’s been in love with me for years.’ It’s not what you think, Hela. I just wanted to spend some time with a human being who loves me. We talked. He tried to convince me to leave. Called me “Benjamin” and “Young Lord Vader”. Brought me the kind of cookies I liked. I cried, and he hugged me. And I said, ‘Alright Enric. You win. I give up. You can give me a blow job. I’ll take off my clothes. And he said, ‘My dear boy, my beautiful boy, I have been waiting for ten years for this, but I love and respect you too much to take advantage of you. You’re terrible at being a whore, you should quit.’ That was my low point.”

“You should quit. And you don’t have to live here. Come and live with me. You can just come here and do your fighting, and then come home to me, until your time here is served. Then I don’t have to give Ragnar this money. Also? You have to call your mother. And I won’t have time for you, every day, so you’re going to let Rebel Girl know that you’re alive. These are my terms.”

“They aren’t bad. Can I have the Askajian Princess to my rooms?”

“No. And no other women but Rey. You want to fuck around? Rent a room. You’ve got the money.”

[crqstalite]

SHADOW OF THE SITH. Ch. 4.

NAJI_RISHI.

"Do we stop her?" Nadia whispers under her breath, concern written all over her face and wrapping both women in an anxious blanket, as the two can feel every death the Wrath had caused as a ripple through the force. It's terrifying, as they'd only just begun their trip on the island and already there was fire after fire to put out, trying to get slaves off the island, and also babysitting their new comrade, "We were here to save people, not kill them."

"She's...surprisingly not killing everything in sight. She's being methodical about who she kills, the slavers." Naji admits, careful not to let her robes drag in the bloody path her new...ally is leaving on the ground. Another shot fired, and another body falls to the ground with a hard, lifeless thump. This time murdered by her companion, who smiles wickedly behind his rifle, "We should be lucky it's not us and the slaves she's chosen as her targets."

"I'll...try and remember that..."

An unsure frown passes her face, crinkling her young face in a way that makes Naji's insides cold, before they catch up with the woman. A fire burns beneath her eyes, kicking a body away with the tip of her durasteel boot. Smears of alien and human blood alike decorate her uncovered torso, stains on her porcelain white skin. Another slaver writhers on the ground in pain, still just barely alive and attempting to shimmy away, and with a flick of her wrist, his neck bends at a horrifying angle. A loud snap is audible just as it happens, and Naji is quick to try and cover Nadia's eyes, but the sound of a pained whimper is still audible.

The woman has the nerve to chuckle at her padawan's expense, the light of her red kyber crystal resheathed in her lightsaber's hilt, and she turns over her shoulder. Her face is surprisingly free of scars (for a Sith, she's still extremely pale, even on the god-forsaken jungle planet. Naji would've thought the woman would've seen some sun at the very least), except for one that runs along her neck that she can see from the neckpiece, and blonde strands of hair hang down in front of her face, her surprisingly cerulean eyes with flecks of gold near the pupils staring back out from the curtain of hair, "Afraid of a little blood?"

"Do you have to kill everything that moves?" Naji asks, hardening her voice to seem more assertive. She'd let the Wrath take the reins for most of the mission on Rishi (something about the native species made her deathly ill, so any choice that the Wrath made she'd have to accept until they made it out of the Cove's denser places, or at least until Lana had time to find her something to counteract the allergies), but she wouldn't let the continued violence be detrimental to their mission, "We're here to free people, not kill them."

"I thought this is what you squishy-hearted Jedi liked. These slavers tortured others who couldn't protect themselves, and now they've met their deserving end." The Wrath quips in response, rolling one of her sabers over her wrist as she uses a teasing voice deserving of a reprimanded child, "Am I not serving your petty Code?"

"No." Naji grumbles, crossing her arms as the Wrath shrugs. She even had the nerve to comment on her Code, which didn't improve her opinion of the woman. This wasn't justice, or anything even near what the Jedi followed. Mass murder wasn't their way, "No it doesn't."

"Oh, and what would?" She narrows her eyes into yellow slits, angry or even possibly annoyed by her, "You killed the Colonel on Rakata Prime, didn't you? Wasn't that for justice as well? An arbitrary decision, don't you believe?"

Naji nearly flares at the notion. The death of the colonel hadn't been intentional, if she could let him live, she would've. Whether he was a traitor or not, he should've lived, even if only for questioning. The blood that dripped from her hands, she still hadn't fully forgiven herself for. What Theron got into trouble for that she had done, what should've been hers to shoulder. Something she should've admitted to the Council. Even if she had lost her position, the emotional loss was worse, having the two go into hiding, "That wasn't justice." She whispers.

It was self-defense.

Her chest pangs just at the thought. He'd shot her square in the chest, and had she not had enough adrenaline coursing through her veins, she wouldn't have been able to pull herself up and stab him through to keep him from getting another one off. Felix had carried her back, believing the worst, and after the trek through the rest of the planet, Naji was already sure she wouldn't make it. The scar was still raised and rather angry, even after the years past.

Just looking at the wound made her sick. Still visible just above her bra and below, it had been an ugly burn from a blaster especially, but the high powered rifle Darok carried, especially at such short distance, had made an already horrible wound worse. She was in and out of consciousness after being in a kolto tank for half a week, and struggled to breathe for months afterwards. Reminding her of the fight that had caused it didn't bode well for the warrior.

"Bah, apologies m'lord but the sun's going down. 'Fraid if we stay much longer they'll regroup and make this mission a lot harder on us." The gruff voice of the soldier snaps her out of her thoughts, and Nadia puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You think they're organized enough to have snipers?"

A lingering look from the Sith before she turns to her companion, "With how easy they fall, I doubt it Pierce. But if we must, it wouldn't hurt to kill a few more while we wait for the Jedi to finish."

As if it's only their responsibility to free the slaves. As if she's only along for the ride and they're inconviencing her. She can see quite a few more slave cages just over the ridge, and she deflates her rigid spine once the Wrath is gone. Out of sight, sadly not out of mind. Running a hand through her hair, she turns over her shoulder to look at Nadia properly, "I apologize, this isn't the way our missions were supposed to go. I didn't believe the bloodshed would be so heavy."

"You're doing your best, master. You've never directed me wrong before, and you aren't now. This isn't your fault." Nadia says, her blue eyes twinkling in the setting sun. Her white hair is pulled up, severely away from her face, a delicate but sturdy braided bun atop her head. She's so much older than she was when Naji had first met the girl, but the same childish innocence remains sometimes. Not today, it seemed. She seems worried for her master, her training robes traded for armored pieces requisitioned from the Temple. So much has changed, so quickly.

For the millionth time in her life, Naji's afraid of what will come next. Revan -yes, Revan- was rising again, a cult in his name running around and committing dangerous missions left and right. It was supposed to be a simple happily ever after, especially after the mending of the Rift Alliance and continued hunt for remaining Children, but even she could sense the cloud of danger hanging over the Republic when she entered the operations room that fateful day. Nothing would ever be the same again, and she was afraid that would warrant a loss of everyone that become important to her.

She wouldn't let anyone take the crew of the Polaris from her, not if she didn't die first.

"I suppose there isn't much we can do about the Wrath..." Nadia trails off, rolling her eyes, "Are all Sith like her? Bloodthirsty with no regard for other people?"

"You'd be best asking a real Sith." Naji responds, trying to smile, "The slaves are safe for the moment, but I think they'd be happier on a transport, don't you believe?"

-

It's late into the night when the four return to the hidden alleyway, Pierce (as she's learned the bulky soldier's name), makes notes with the Wrath of places to enjoy the night instead of sleeping (she's beginning to think the Wrath is really involved with him and is playing Theron like a chindinkalu), and her nose is beginning to itch again. She's afraid Theron and Lana are gone before she hears the tinkling laughter of a woman. The Wrath has a hand on one of her sabers and Pierce picks up his rifle before Naji puts up a hand to stop in front of them with a tired and entirely distrustful look on her face.

"Theron, Lana?" Naji asks, peaking inside before their procession makes themselves known, "I apologize for being out so late, but the mission's been complete. There are quite a few former slaves safely returned to freedom tonight." She says proudly, a tight smile on her face once they're aware of their presence. Theron is leaning against a holoprojector while Lana is standing nearby, ready to debrief them on their progress. Albeit, both of them are smiling as if sharing an inside joke, but it's good to see them after such a long day.

"And plenty of their dead captors to go along with it." The Wrath interjects, making her presence rather loud as she pushes through Nadia and Naji, a smirk on her face and a well-hidden look of horror on Theron's face as he registers just what her triumphant declaration means, "A successful mission after all."

"We'll..go with that." The SIS agent responds, turning his attention from her to Naji (almost hopefully), "Chatter's picked up though, whatever you two did caused a major stir among the Nova Blades."

"I'm glad." Naji says, nodding as she turns to the Sith woman standing nearby, "Then we'll be able to finish up with the Blades soon then?"

"Not exactly." Lana responds, "Though we are growing closer to attacking the Aggressor soon. It's late, and it's been a long day. Better we finish this debrief in the morning, when all of us are of right mind. Agreed?"

"I'd second that!" Nadia pipes up, a tired smile on her face. Lana seems taken aback for a moment (Nadia isn't typically shy, but this has been the first word she's exchanged with anyone but Naji while here), before a softer smile replaces her surprise, "Maybe we can finally head back to the Polaris?" She asks hopefully.

"I suppose finding some food off-planet wouldn't be horrible. I'll call Zenith and have him join me tomorrow, so you can relax and find something, okay?" She asks, once the Wrath strikes up another conversation with Theron, effectively distracting her. She presses a light kiss to her forehead, Nadia giggling and then sighing in relief as Naji floods their force bond with happiness. She's tired, exhausted even, and a few nights away from Rishi would take care of the problem and get her back into high spirits, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm away, understood?"

Nadia nods happily, before questioning, "Aren't you coming back with me?"

She throws a look over her shoulder before frowning, "I need to be on-planet in case something happens and they need me. Give my regards to everyone, yes?"

"Felix is going to be disappointed." Nadia says, nearly naggingly, "Why don't you bring him out instead of Zenith?"

"I don't want Felix hurt anymore than he already is, and Zenith is going absolutely stir-crazy without any other missions to pass the time. You know how he gets." She and Nadia laugh good-naturedly, knowing the sniper rather well. "I do hope Bisauur doesn't miss him too much."

"It's his birthday soon, you know. She's going to want to spend it with him, even if she doesn't directly say anything." Naji has to hold back from rolling her eyes, her padawan (recently turned Sage) was exceptionally horrible at hiding her feelings for the sniper, and it was painfully obvious at times. No one made jokes about it, but because she took the Code so seriously (though she had to explain multiple times that it was still okay she was married to Felix), she acted as if her advances were simply friendly instead of having romantic intentions behind them.

"I would take Qyzen, but he's out on a hunt right now. And Tharan, well you know he's up to something in the cargo bay. I'd rather he not bring whatever chemicals he's collected here." Naji gives her a look that says 'I'm your master and that's final' before lightly embracing the girl, "I'll see you soon. Sleep and eat well, and be careful on your way out."

Nadia offers her one last smile and wave before heading out of the safehouse, and she can sense Lana approaching, "Barsen'thor."

"Beniko." She says softly, as not to make the woman presume she had any malicious intent, "I am genuinely glad you and Theron are alright. I do apologize for what happened all those years ago."

"Why would you apologize?" Lana asks, almost dumbfounded, "What happened on Rakata Prime wouldn't have been easily prevented as it was. I understand what you did, and I wouldn't blame you for...well this." She says, waving a hand around to the dark but still humid safehouse, "If anything, you and the Wrath did us a favor by doing so. Arkous and Darok were dispatched before they could turn anyone else or do any more damage inside their respective factions. In essence, that was a win."

"I still...I still feel just a tad horrible about you both. Having to uproot your lives because of something I and the Wrath did?" Naji knows she's delving into topics she shouldn't be discussing with a Sith lord, but the boundaries seem to have already fallen. Lana may have been Sith, but they were also allies for the time being. It didn't mean she wasn't still extremely uneasy about it.

"It was unfortunate, yes. But Jakarro and C2-D4 didn't have family. They weren't leaving anyone, not anyone we knew about. Theron...well I figure you can assume better about him than I can, and as for myself..." she trails off, the conversation inherently finished. They didn't have anyone to leave behind, "We let you both continue living your lives because you were much higher up in the ranks of both factions than we were, you were more productive in the long run. You both had crews to go back to who depended on you for your ship and to survive. In the Wrath's case, she has family on Dromound Kaas who would be suspicious if she suddenly went missing. I'm sure you have your connections as well."

"It was more theoretically plausible and safer if you both were out of commission rather than us." Naji finishes, wringing out her hands, "It doesn't make me feel much better if I'm being honest."

"I didn't say it had to." It has a rougher bite than she thought it would, that's the cold hard truth of what happened, as whether it made her feel good wasn't supposed to be Lana's concern. The woman pauses, sighing, "Though it is nice to operating with someone other than Theron and Jakarro again. It gets a little stuffy with just men."

"I can imagine." Naji smiles, and they share a laugh, before she queues up another answer, "Nadia. That's my padawan's name. I sensed your curiousity earlier, though you hide it extremely well."

Yet again, Lana is taken aback, surprised by her observant nature. "She's pleasant to be around, smart, crafty. She likes you. You've met Lieutenant Iresso, he accompanied me on Rakata Prime." Like always, she almost says my husband as she always introduces him, before figuring Lana doesn't need to know just yet, "You'll meet Zenith tomorrow I suppose, he's a strong personality, and it takes quite a bit to get used to, believe me." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she wonders if she should tell her that Zenith may not work well with her or the Wrath. Stars, that's even worse, they'd be working rather closely with the Wrath, and it was hard to hide she was staunchly Imperial.

"If you're concerned about his alliance with us, I'm sure there's something Theron could say to keep her here while you and him work alone." A shiver runs up her spine, it's rather spooky that if Naji isn't actively thinking about it, others have an easy time reading her. Not even her mind, just her. Her force signature is easy to decipher, which she should probably put a better lock on.

"No, If I lie to Zenith, what kind of person would I be?" Naji asks, "He'll work with both of us, begrudgingly if anything."

"If you say so." Lana says, residing to accept and drop the conversation, "You didn't return with her?"

Naji shrugs lightly, "I'll stay here for the time being, but believe me, as soon as you give me a break you won't see me for weeks."

[meteor752]

Obi-Wan’s padawan that I accidentally created and ended up liking (This title is terrible)

My friend, Vera, who cosplayed as Ahsoka during Halloween, found out I had this blog and checked it out. Her favorite post out of them was about Obi-Wan’s Padawan loving Maul, and she asked me to make them a character.

So yeah, we sat down together with Kim, who played Obi-Wan, and started talking about directions to take this character. If you don’t like it, then good for you.

Oh, and I realized that we never came up with a name or gender, so I’m making it a She because I wrote out their whole “Family Tree”, and there’s a lot of males, and her name’s gonna be Vera cuz this was her idea

So yeah, Vera River was born somewhere on Wecacoe by an unknown mother. This unknown bitch of a mother sold her quickly, as she wanted nothing to do with poor Vera, so Vera grew up being sold left and right to different slave owners.

Growing up like this, Vera became a very quiet and scared little girl, because if she talked then it was chains. She hated being in chains, and even later in her life, she refuses to wear things like bracelets as it reminds her of it.

This continued until she was five years old, where there was some mission to Wecacoe by two Jedi and she was accidentally stumbled upon and brought to the Jedi temple. And as you might have guessed, the two who stumbled upon her was a 12 year old Anakin and a 28 year old Obi-Wan Kenobi. Because of the fact that she was saved by the two, she started to idolize them like you wouldn’t believe and made sure to keep up on what was going on in the two’s life.

Vera was put in a clan like every Jedi youngling, and in her case the cobra clan (Again, how do they name these?? We just made this name up). Because of the first five years of her life, it did make her a bit insecure and jumpy, which was easy to pick on by her clanmates.

The cobra clan consists of a Pau’an male named Timoa, a Devoranian male named Kaltin, a Kel dor female named Tiivia, a Mon Calamari named Meeka and a female Chiss named Amore. Vera did not get along with either Timoa, Kaltin nor Amore, but Tiivia and Meeka were nice.

Vera herself is from an unknown species (Don’t try to look it up, my friends and I made it up), that is sort of near-human. Her skin is chalk white, french braided hair is ebony black and eyes mud brown with a single peck of Amber. She looks relatively human, the only really abnormal thing is that her arms are a little extra long, and sharp fangs instead of teeth.

The thing is, she has a “Beast” form. When she feels threatened or scared, her outward appearance completely changes.

Her limbs grow longer, her back curves so she has to walk on four legs and her jaw can unhinge when she snarls, hisses or roars. Her mouth is unable to form real words, so instead she sends them telepathically into whoever she is talking to’s brain. The top of her head is formed into a sort of tentacle mass, and two extra arms come out of her back. The worst thing though if you ask her, the worst thing is the eyes. Upon the tentacles, there are almost two dozen covering them, and multiple appear and disappear on her body all the time. It is creepy and confusing on so many levels.

Vera is extremely shamed of the beast, and no one in the Jedi council knows of it except for Master Fisto.

During her clan’s first swim class when she was around nine, Timoa pushed her into the water and the beast emerged, as Vera is deeply terrified of water. Master Fisto comforted her, the sweetheart he is, and promised to keep it a secret. He also made the rest of her clan, who were terrified, keep the same promise. After that day, she had gained a lot more respect from her clan, and she overcame her fear of water.

During her gathering, after having to climb up a wall she could only do as the beast, she instead of founding one crystal, found two. Confused as ever, she climbed back down with the two crystals tightly in her grasp and made it out of the cave, first in her clan as well.

Back on the ship while looking at lightsaber types, she stumbles upon something called a Light Whip and falls in love. So yeah, this sweetie now has two blue light whips, good luck defeating her.

But like, a week or two after Ahsoka, aka the clone wars movie and stuff, Obi-Wan once again requested a Padawan, and after seven years Vera once again met her hero.

And she was his Padawan. Great, time to panic.

Over the course of seven years at the temple, she had done her fair share of research on Master Kenobi and holy kriff this guy can’t catch a break, can he. 

So she decided to put up a bubbly, happy exited facade so he won’t have to deal with the mess of a being she is. 

The two of them actually ended up getting along quite well, despite Vera putting him on a pedestal all the time. They joked and sassed out each other, but they also fought together perfectly. 

Vera and ‘Soka got along as well, with both being new Padawans and not too large of an age difference. They became like sisters, and more than once referred to each other as such.

Ani on the other hand...they didn’t exactly hate each other, they just..did not...get along. Vera still admired him greatly, he did help with her rescue as a five year old after all.

During a mission where just the two of them ended up stuck in a ship in the middle of space for a couple of hours, Vera tried an Ice Breaker to get to know each other better.

They ended up really getting to know each other though, as they both vented about their past and feelings -Ani about his jealousy for Vera being a better Padawan than he could ever be and his anger for the Jedi council, and Vera about bottling up her feelings- and then cried. After that they had a better connection and became sort of slave buds. They never called themselves that though, cuz that is weird.

Oh, remember this? Yeah, if Vera was present she would have been discussing that with them, as she is easily distracted.

 After that though, she started pondering about their actual lineage and how wide it goes, so yeah she started her research, and after a couple of months she had mapped out everything and was on multiple masters radar.

The only people she Officially showed were Master Kenobi, Ani and ‘Soka, but she did slip from time to time and just accidentally showed someone to prove a point. 

After ‘Soka by mistake called Ani dad (A headcanon of mine, you can’t tell me it didn’t happen at least thrice) she did another family tree, but this time of how she viewed her family, and since both the 501st and 212th are apart of it she had to get to know the name of every clone trooper in both battalions that have ever lived. 

It. was. torture. But worth it!

This one was more personal though, and only a few people knew about it. And anytime Ani and Master Kenobi had a “moment”, she may or may not have squealed a bit because the tree ‘Soka! The tree!

This also created the inside joke of Master Kenobi and Vera from time to time calling each other “Dad” and “Daughter”, mostly to tease Ani and ‘Soka, but also because they had made a bond over their time together.

Even though she viewed both Master Kenobi and Ani as her father figures, Vera still really liked Satine and just thinks that she and Master Kenobi should hook up already.

She’s also one of the very few people that are unaware of Senator Amidala and Ani’s marriage, but she still thinks they would be a cute couple.

Ummmmm, what do we more have...she’s Aromantic Asexual! She just doesn’t see Romantic Love as necessary to her, and Sex will forever be destroyed for her thanks to her history as a slave, cough cough.

Her diet mainly consists of bugs when she’s unable to go hunting. This grosses Master Kenobi out like you wouldn’t believe, cuz great now there’s two of them. Ani and ‘Soka approves.

When she is on a forest planet though, then she gladly sneaks away to go hunting. It’s not that she’s not allowed, persay, it’s just that most of the time parts of The Beast is shown.

If she sees that it is safe enough, she sometimes lets the beast out for a run, mostly because if she doesn’t and keeps it hidden for too long she becomes aggressive, and she fears that it might appear out of nowhere.

I realized after this was finished that fuuuuck, this means I have to add what Vera was doing during every episode both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka is in fucking kill meeee. So yeah, this is not discussed with either Kim nor Vera, this is only me. Surprise Mother Fuckers.

And I won’t explain every arc, as most times she was just standing around or fighting.

During Mortis she was unconscious. I rewatched the episodes for this, and realized that there is no way to add her without changing major plot points. So yeah, after Ahsoka and Kenobi fall asleep in that cave and have their visions, she does too but doesn’t wake up until they’ve left Mortis. I will explain why later

Slaves of Zygerria she just takes Rex’s place basically, since she’s an ex-slave and doesn’t want to be put back into that. This backfires however as they are put into the slave camp, and suffer terrible nightmares after it for months. Lot of cuddles with Ahsoka if ya know what I mean

During the Citadel Arc, she actually follows orders and stays behind, Ahsoka!

She goes into depression during the Hardeen ordeal and didn’t leave her quarters. No one blamed her for that.

Alright let’s address the elephant in the room here.

She found out at an early age about Maul killing Master Kenobi’s master, and at first she was as shocked and terrified as most younglings were, because A Sith?! We thought those were dead!!

But then she was actually showed a picture of Maul, and holy shit this guy looked cool!!

Like, she has seen Zabraks before, obviously, but damn! The way his dark tattoos looked against his red skin, the glowing eyes, the tattoos just !! Wow!!

It got even worse when she first found out about his red double-bladed lightsaber, that made him look even cooler!

More than once after Vera became Master Kenobi’s Padawan did she ask about the Sith, as vaguely as she could, but her master didn’t really like talking about it and she accepted that.

When she found out that he was alive though...holy shit...

‘Soka could literally not make her stop talking about it, and Vera waited not so patiently day after day until finally, finally, her master told her that they were dealing with a “Maul Issue”.

Callback to this, she freaked out, Maul and Savage were confused as hell and Master Kenobi was just. what. the fuck. why. is this. happening to me.

On their way back to the temple, bloody and bruised, more Master Kenobi then Vera as Savage had a very hard time fighting her, he asked what the kriff that was.

So yeah, Vera started rambling about how fucking awesome she thought Maul was, the same with his brother who she found out existed two hours earlier, and that she really wanted a double bladed saber and Master Kenobi just being like this is really not what I meant, stop idolizing them.

She acts similar around Mr. Ohnaka, who finds great joy in the little Kenobi and gladly answered all of her questions about being a Pirate when they meet.

Now, Vera isn’t all happy feeling of course. Just like everyone else, she suffers negative feelings as well, and in her case they are quite...extra.

She has a bad habit of tapping into the dark side of the force, sometimes out of anger, sometimes fear, and sometimes just because it’s the easiest way. If you are able to kill someone by force choking them to end the mission, why shouldn’t you? It doesn’t make you a bad person, right?

Well, it did however turn on her after she turned fourteen, two years after she was assigned to Master Kenobi, and just a few months before the Jedi Purge (Also before ‘Soka’s trial)

A small stealth mission, Master Kenobi and Ani with their two Padawans and a handful of clones, was surprised by a full on assault. The four of them nearly got killed that day.

But a wall inside Vera broke, and every ounce of the Dark Side of the force inside of her was set free, which meant that parts of The Beast were shown.

Vera herself lifted off the ground, together with every droid in front of her, and then they all were crushed at once.

When Vera’s feet were back on the ground once again, and she looked back at the three near unconscious bodies, it was instead of her two mud brown eyes six pitch black one, two on her cheekbones and two on her forehead.

She smiled back at them, showing off her fanged teeth, but she was met with faces of horror. That was when the true realization of what she had done hit her, and The four extra eyes melted back into her skin. Horrifying sight, truly.

She was silent on the way back to the Jedi temple, ‘Soka trying to ask her what happened, but she simply just shook her head.

It was the same in front of the council, she refused to speak so Master Kenobi had to explain what happened. Master Fisto also ended up telling them about the beast, reluctantly, and only after gaining a silent nod from her.

She was expelled that day.

Left silently, didn’t speak to her master, brother Padawan nor sister.

(Alright, I want y’all to take the next thing with a grain of salt. Vera, Kim and I had fun with the idea, and it was mostly a joke, but I’m going to share it anyways. Oh and also, I would recommend reading this beforehand, as use that headcanon, thanks!)

Barely a week or two after she left for Wecacoe trying to find anything about what the kriff she was, she started to feel a presence. It was weak and vague, but one thing was sure.

It was dark.

So Vera sat down in meditation position in front of a candle, as she had always found that that helped, and started to meditate in the dark side of the force.

Barely an hour into doing this it was there once again, more evident this time. When she opened her now six eyes, she locked eyes with a barely solid being, whose eyes shone with gleam and amusement. A being she had only briefly seen before it had knocked her unconscious for who knows how long a year prior in Mortis.

The Son

As any sane person she stood up and ignited her whips, asking how and why he was there.

So he explained who she was.

A fucking force wielder, created fourteen years ago in an attempt to create a being as powerful as him to balance how to ever growing light side of the force. His daughter.

After a lot of convincing and ifs and buts, Vera actually agreed to follow to Mortis as the embodiment of the Darkside, just so she can balance everything out. 

(Personal headcanon of mine, the moment a force wielder dies another one is created, if one doesn’t already exist that is. So yeah, she also agrees to find her one year old cousin and brings him there no she did not kidnap him hush).

The Jedi council notices the small shift in the force, and Kenobi, Skywalker, and Tano eventually figures out Mortis, and thanks to the fact that Anakin is a Force Wielder himself (I will never stop believing that), they manage.

The three of them expect to find the Son, or something like him in the Cathedral.

Instead, they find Vera on the floor meditating, her eyes dark and ominous and red markings over her white skin.

They questioned it, obviously, and she explained who and what she was. They didn’t believe her, why would they, and thought that the Son had just manipulated her. This angered her a little as the son, her father, had passed away just a few days earlier. A force manifestation doesn’t make it for that long without a body, and he had fulfilled his purpose by bringing her there.

She offered them to stay, and if they would declined she didn’t want them returning. They refused, and Vera snapped, attacking.

She nearly killed Ahsoka. She stood above her, her whips way to close to the Togrutas throat, eyes once again pitch black and fangs glimmering in the small light that was let in.

Anakin saved her life by slicing up Vera’s mouth, completely destroying parts of her lips. Everything stopped inside of Vera for a second as she was thrown back, blood pouring down her face. A force wielder could not die unless it was of the dagger, but physical damage could be caused to them.

The rage flooded inside her veins, and when she looked up back at her former master, brother padawan and sister, her eyes were neither black nor brown. They were red, and had no sign of her usual kind and happy nature left in them.

Vera lifted the three of the ground, and as angry tears streamed down her face she yelled at them to never return or she would end their life immediately, and then forced them out of Mortis. That was the last time she saw any of them.

She spent most of her days taking care of her cousin, Tartur, or meditating the pain away. Crying became a part of her routine. At first, she constantly checked Kenobi, Skywalker and Tano’s force presence, but stopped after just a few weeks as it hurt too much.

The purge almost gave her a heart attack, as it was so much pain and death at once. All the deaths mixed together made that she couldn’t clearly tell who died when, but when it was finally over she simply assumed that everyone was gone, including her former master and her sister. 

Skywalkers fall was understandable, she’d felt his possessive nature when she was still a Padawan, but she was still angered.

Tartur grew up hearing stories of the galaxy, the Jedi and the force. Vera taught him everything she knew about using the force and trained him in hand to hand combat and with a pole resembling a lightsaber. She never picked up her light whips after the day she nearly killed her sister.

Despite being the woman that raised him, and his family, and being the embodiment of light, Tartur grew up hating his cousin because she could leave, he couldn’t.

By Anakin, the child of the force, using the dark side, Tartur had to stay on Mortis to keep the balance and push light side into the force at all times.

Vera on the other hand could leave, or for a few days at least, but she chose not to unless it was for a supply run (This girl loves her son good hot chocolate), otherwise she stayed at all times.

When Maul died, she felt it which was a surprise to her for two reasons.

One, he survived for that long? Told you he was awesome!

And two, she hadn’t felt any deaths since the purge.

Obi-Wan was next, which nearly tore her open. His death actually made her leave Mortis just to find out what happened, and that was when she met a sunny force sensitive young boy named Skywalker. Wait a minute-!

Ahsoka’s death was the last one, years later. At this point she had nearly gotten used to it, and she was able to accept it.

It was also during this time that Tartur and her started to avoid each other for long periods of time. They kept to their side of the planet for sometimes weeks, sometimes longer. Once they went for two years.

After maybe a millions years of living on this planet, sulking for the most part, Vera decided to take initiative and actually see the galaxy, find out what happened to the places she used to love so much.

And the galaxy sure was...different. When she walked around, a cloak covering her dark Jedi looking robes and red eyes scanning the area, she noticed multiple untrained force sensitive beings.

During some quick research in a library, she learned that the Jedi were seen as myths and legends nowadays, and that very few people believed in their existence.

So she took some more initiative and managed to charm her way into talking in front of a couruscant school, her old masters teachings always comes to use, and before she knew it she stood on a stage in front of hundreds of wondering and confused eyes.

So she started simply, asking how many knew what a Jedi were, of which maybe a fourth of the school raised their hand, something that made her incredibly sad. When she asked how many believed in the Jedi, nearly everyone lowered their hand, except for a small Zabrak boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old.

The Zabrak boy got a few laughs from the audience, but Vera simply smiled kindly and asked for his name, which was Revar.

And then she explained the force, the Jedi, the Sith, tales of the old republic she’d heard as a child, the clone war, the empire the first order everything. Everything to these children, and no one said a word as she spoke, just stared at her in awe.

When she was finally done and her mouth was dry and she craved hot chocolate, an even younger Twi’lek girl raised her hand and asked what the Jedi were like.

After she answered that question, more hands flew into the air.

So she kept returning to that school, once every three months, to tell stories and answer questions. Some kids did a little research on their own and asked questions about specific Jedi, and she gladly told them of what she knew.

Around ten kids on the school were force sensitive, including Revar, and there were even some that were related to the Jedi of her time. This she never told them while on stage though, and instead in private. She taught these ten a few tricks to conceal their force abilities, but also how to do simple Jedi mind tricks or moving small objects.

More schools requested her, and after around three years with these kids she moved on to a different one. Eventually she stood on stage in front of entire planets, and from time to time even got help by Tartur.

Planets started to hail the Jedi more and more, and small monuments were built in their honor. Temples were created and some requested Vera to teach them, something she accepted.

Soon the Jedi were back, but in a different way than before. Instead of mainly using the light side, or mainly the dark side, it was a mix of both as that is what Vera are.

Vera and Tartur made sure this lasted for billions of years, teaching new younglings and making sure the older spread what they had learnt. Of course they had to regularly return to Mortis, but when they could they were traveling the galaxy.

Aeons after her birth, Vera finally passed away peacefully, her cousins promising to take care of the child that would be created when she was gone.

He didn’t cry, he’d seen this coming for days and he knew that his time weren’t that far away either.

Vera reunited with her family finally in the force, and she watched as what she had created continued to live on long after she was gone.

•

•

This took time! Like, really long time! Me, Vera and Kim talked for hours about this, and had to stop to rewatch the Mortis Arc in the middle of it. I actually like where we took this, and it was fun to do.

But for real, this took weeks, so be grateful

[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 38)

Jaig Eyes (38/?)

A Clone Wars fanfic.

Always available on fanfiction.net 

Summary:

Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she's involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

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Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Owner of the Voice

The planet of Moraband...or Korriban...reminded me slightly of how Tatooine looked from orbit. Though, while the dry and clear look of the nearly uninhabitable planets seemed similar, Korriban’s surface practically gleamed red. In addition, the usual shady traffic I encountered on Tatooine was nowhere to be found. 

Embo had mentioned a trading guild location on the planet, but with some asking around, I determined it was on the opposite side of the planet as my approach was.

I wasn’t sure why I preferred that. Maybe it was because I didn’t want word possibly getting back to the Republic about my exploration of the planet. Or maybe it was because I felt drawn to this particular part.

The planet almost seemed to be breathing, it was teeming so much with the Force. Despite the obvious life power that flowed through it, I felt cold. It was the Dark Side. Still, I could tell that what I was feeling was only a gentle echo of the power that had once resonated on the planet.

When my ancestors had practiced their dark arts there. When the fallen jedi...also my ancestors, technically...came to the planet and enslaved the Sith purebloods, entwining the dark arts of the natives with their own knowledge of the Force.

I swallowed as I turned off my autopilot, entering the planet’s dusty atmosphere. The moment my sensors registered that I had dipped below the dark cloudline, my senses burned like a fire in my mind. I was in a daze, my hands tilting the joystick to turn my ship and coast through the desert landscape. The very planet itself glowed a dark orange in the slow sunset, the dark red sand of the world spinning in slow circles in the wind. Massive formations of red rock towered above the wings of my shuttle, casting me in shadow as I passed them.

I didn’t know what navigation I was following. I just knew that something was calling me. Tugging at the back of my mind like a child pulling incessantly at a string. 

It wasn’t long before I emerged from my low-flying flight, passing a few final towering structures of stone to find a valley. It pulsed with power.

And with the echoes of the dead.

The valley was lined with temples that I somehow knew were tombs. A particularly large pyramid structure stood at the end of the valley, the long stone courtyard that led to it littered with destroyed statues. The statues that remained intact depicted massive towering warriors, their heads bent. 

I couldn’t tell if the action was supposed to be out of respect...or submission.

The engines of my shuttle whirred to a low, cooling hum as I set the ship down within the massive courtyard. The gangway descended, the surprisingly cool wind whipping past my cloak that was draped over my plain, dented armor--I’d scratched away the paint during the hyperspace jump to Korriban. I pulled the hood of the dark gray cloak up over my short hair, trying to block some of the swirling sand.

Whatever had called me here was quiet now. There was no voice in my mind. No enticing words to draw me closer.

But there was a darkness. And power. 

I strode from the gangway of my shuttle, following the pulsing power that pulsed from deep within the towering pyramid. My eyes were drawn to the horizon, aware of how the sun was almost halfway below the mountains, the valley darkening from orange towards red. My peripheral vision caught movement, drawing my gaze.

Something feral loomed up in the broken structures that lined the valley. Its stature vaguely reminded me of Marrok, Embo’s anooba. Yet, instead of covered with fur, the creature looked almost leathery with long spines trailing down its haggard back. It’s long tail, difficult to make out in the fading light, looked long and whip-like.

Even though it didn’t come down from where it lurked, I could tell it was watching me. I walked a little faster up the stairs and through the towering metal door that was slightly ajar. I wondered if it had been pried apart by raiders, searching for lost trinkets of the Sith species. Then again, maybe it was pillaged by those that continued to study the Dark Side. 

Had others heard the call that I did?

I briefly considered that the door may be ajar on purpose...to invite me inside.

The halls inside were dark, illuminated only by the sweeping beam of my flashlight. It was only a short distance to cross a second threshold that opened into a long room. A stream of orange light filtered in from structural insecurities, encasing what looked like a stone coffin below at the end of the hall.

I stopped at the edge of a short staircase, leading into what I could only guess was once a court. It almost resembled a throne room. Massive statues along the room, depicting bent humanoid forms looking like they were trying not to be crushed by the pillars they were holding up. I swallowed hard, feeling the power resonating from the sarcophagus at the end of the room.

Decorating the stone were lines of old-looking metal, inscriptions etched into its surface. Despite my knowledge of languages, I had to admit that I had my shortcomings. Whatever was written there was old...so old that I couldn’t even begin to decipher what it might say.

As I drew closer, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, I saw a looming statue towering over the sarcophagus. The figure was cloaked, its face in shadow. His large arms were crossed over his chest, as I imagined the body within the sarcophagus was lain. 

My heart leapt to my throat as I felt a familiar surge of power, my chest going cold as the air grew frighteningly still. I stopped in my tracks, a black mist rising from the sarcophagus with a low hissing sound, like sand sliding over stone. The mist continued to rise, an orange glow resonating from the top of the coffin, like someone had lit a fire inside. 

Fear froze my muscles as a figure began to take shape within the mist and fire, lifting his head slowly to stand in a mimic to the statue behind him. His hands unfolded from his chest as his glowing eyes regarded me. Despite the glow, his stare felt cold. Deadly.

The figure, though floating as a frightening apparition, wore armor as if he was in battle. Beautiful designs that I was sure once held meaning decorated the metal plating, his helmet sitting low to almost over his eyes. Were they not glowing, I was sure they would have been cast in shadow.

“Finally,” he spoke, the hair raising on the back of my neck. “You have answered my call.”

I knew his voice. His was the one that spoke in my mind, drawing me to Korriban. The one that gave me power...and darkness.

“It’s you,” I whispered fearfully, my fingers curling nervously around the pistol at my hip.

The spirit--as I now determined him to be, considering the circumstances--laughed. “That weapon won’t serve you here,” he assured me, waving his hand. I half-expected the pistol to fly from my holster, but nothing happened. Was he so sure it wouldn’t hurt him that he didn’t even bother to remove it from my grasp? He was obviously Force-sensitive, given his connection to me and his ability to somehow live past death...like Qui-Gon had.

“Who are you?” I asked finally, mustering my courage. I forced my hand to come off my pistol in a fake show of understanding and confidence.

The spirit rose to full height--which was rather impressive, mind you--and let out another chuckle. His voice in my head had always been a bit off-putting. But in this massive chamber, it was even moreso. I could tell his power was even greater here than anywhere else. His words echoed, almost sounding like three voices rather than one.

“I am Darth Bane.” For some reason, that name sparked a recognition. I’d heard something about him...somewhere. “I am the greatest Sith Lord to have ever lived.”

For some reason, my sass found its way back to the surface, my eyebrow arching. “How is that? Wouldn’t the greatest Sith Lord find a way to defeat death? Wasn’t there one of you that did that?”

That was dumb to say. I felt his anger chill the room even further, his head bowing to glower at me. “You speak of what you do not understand, girl,” Darth Bane hissed. “I alone have saved the Sith.”

I kept myself from responding with a sarcastic remark about how he was dead again. “How?”

“The Rule of Two.”

That sparked a thought. I’d heard about that. It was whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld. Especially after Obi-wan killed one on Naboo. “Always two Sith,” I whispered. “Did you train Maul?”

Bane let out a dark laugh. “An apprentice struck down be a padawan? No. I would not train one so weak.”

I breathed slowly, trying not to panic as I felt Bane’s powers curling into my mind, wrapping through my thoughts. It was violating feeling, as if my fear was unlocking the doors of my mind for him.

“Why did you call me here?”

Bane regarded me for a moment, sifting through my thoughts. “I created the Rule of Two to ensure the survival of the Sith.” The spirit floated around the room as he explained, his eyes only straying from me briefly. “Once, we were a vast empire, overflowing with power. The old sith powers...as well as the jedi...believe that the Force is like fire.” He either saw my confusion on my face or felt it in my mind. He continued. “They believe that the Force is passed like a torch to their followers, spreading light throughout the galaxy at an equal brightness. They are wrong.” I felt his contempt, not only for the jedi, but for the sith army that existed long ago. “The Force is like venom.” Darth Bane turned abruptly, tilting his armored head. “You’re afraid.”

I found no sense in lying. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t understand. These abilities have always been there, but as of late, they only continue to grow. I can’t control it. I could hurt someone.”

Darth Bane chuckled lowly at me. “Your bloodline is strong in the Dark Side. You will learn.”

“You mean how I’m a descendant of the Sith.” 

“Not just any Sith, girl. A king. And powerful fallen jedi that would eventually claim to be a sith himself. Though, he was never a lord as I am.”

“Why not?”

“Few dare to take on the title of Darth, child. Those who have borne it before me have proud histories.”

A thought occurred to me, some of my fear beginning to eb. This spirit, while imposing, had yet to display any true threat to me. Thus far, he seemed like he was merely interested in me. Why would he call me here, only to kill me?

“What do you feel of those that call themselves Darth now?”

Darth Bane’s demeanor darkened as he loomed around the room, glowing faintly in the shadows. “The current Sith Lord has held fast to my rule, in which the apprentice, when he or she surpsasses their teacher, slays their master.” I started at his words, my forehead folding in fear again. “This disturbs you?”

I swallowed. “Killing the person who taught you everything? That’s...brutal.” My mind flashed to Jango, who had taught me nearly everything about bounty hunting that I now knew. 

“You think of the man who saved you from slavery,” Bane mused, sending a chill down my spine. “The ways of the Sith, in order for them to continue, must be contained within the Rule of Two. When an apprentice surpasses the master, they become the master themselves to then continue passing on our teachings.”

“Why does the master have to die for that to happen?” I asked, clenching my hands. “It works just fine for the jedi to have multiple apprentices in life.”

Darth Bane hummed lowly. “You’ve spent time with the jedi. How do you perceive their power?”

I shrugged. “They lead armies. They can tip the scale in the war. I’ve seen them do incredible things.”

“Perhaps,” Bane allowed, which surprised me. “But I see where your thoughts stray. To the supposed sith you battled on Vandor.”

“Supposed?”

“He is but a pawn. His end will come when his master chooses a new, better suited apprentice.” I thought for a moment about how Dooku could possibly just be a pawn. He practically led the Separatist alliance. He fueled the continuation of the war itself. Bane read my thoughts. “A powerful pawn, mind you. But a temporary piece that will be replaced by one even more powerful.”

“Do you know who the master is?”

Bane watched me, chuckling. “You are not ready for such knowledge, child. First, you must learn why there are only two. I said before that the Force is like venom. Do you know why?”

“No.”

“It dilutes in numbers.” For some reason, I didn’t entirely believe that. I’d seen the jedi do incredible things, and there were a lot of them. “Consider your jedi friends,” he butt in, following my thoughts. “They were subdued by a half-baked sith. Imagine them facing a master. There are only two sith because our lust for power, which drives our strength, turned our armies to infighting. That was why we lost to the jedi long ago. With two, there is always one master and one apprentice. The venom does not get diluted when shared between only two. The teachings of the Sith Order are passed down between them, and they work from the shadows. This is how the sith survive. How we will find power again.”

I swallowed. “I understand that,” I allowed. “But I still don’t understand why you brought me here. There are already--” I cut off my own words, remembering Bane mentioning a new apprentice for the dark master. An apprentice to replace Dooku.

“You are a swift learner. Good.”

“Wait,” I cut him off, watching the spirit float above his sarcophagus once more. “What if this isn’t what I want? I don’t even fully understand the sith. I only know what--”

“What a jedi taught you,” Bane completed for me. “I’m aware. I called you here for your potential to be the next great Sith Lord. I care for the furthering of our code, though the current master is greedy, seeking immortality as many have before him. If you are fit for this, you will be his student and one day, surpass him to continue our order the right way.”

“But--”

“You have great power, young one. You must learn how to fully tap into that power. I will teach you. Show you that this is your destiny as your bloodline demands. I will make you fear nothing. You will be unstoppable.”

His words, though dark...were seductive. I used to have a lot of fear. I had many things that still frightened me. To be rid of that weight? To be able to strike down those that have hurt me? That scarred me so deeply that they still creep in my nightmares?

“Never listen to what others say. Take the jobs you see fit to yourself. The ones that you believe in.”

Jango’s voice was so loud in my mind, I nearly whirled to see if he was in the room. Still, my senses told me otherwise. I wondered if Bane had tapped at that particular memory on purpose.

“I am…” I hesitated, glancing at the stone beneath my boots. “Willing to listen. I want to understand. Hear both sides.”

“Good. Sit, child.” I breathed deeply, steadying myself before sitting cross-legged on the floor. “You have felt the power of the Dark Side before--my own, flowing through you. What did it feel like?”

“It felt…” I searched for the words. “Hot. Powerful. Uncontrollable. Dangerous.”

“Not good?”

He was prodding me towards an answer, I knew. But he wasn’t entirely wrong in his assessment either. “Maybe a little good. It felt good to protect my friends. To have power over someone so horrible.”

“Yes,” Bane praised. “Do you understand that this is a power you would not have possessed if not for you anger? For your hatred? You were facing a sith, after all.”

“I understand. But what made my ability better than his? He was a trained jedi once. And trained by a sith.”

“Bloodline is part of that. Those born of strong force users are often strong in the force themselves. Another is you have quite a well of passions to delve into. Dooku, though wronged by the jedi, still learned their ways of coping. Of suppressing their emotions. That keeps him from his true potential for growth.”

“A well of passions?”

“Your pains. Wrongs done against you. Hatred. Fear. Anger...love.” I recoiled slightly at his words. “You’ve lost so much, child. Use that sadness. Turn it to anger. To power.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be angry all the time. I think,” I paused, sounding pathetic even to my own ears. “I think it would consume me.”

“It very well could. As is the risk of all sith.” That answer surprised me. “Your emotions give you power, but you are not a slave to them. You are a slave to nothing.”

“The Force shall free me,” I muttered, remembering the words the spirit had fed me while I battled Dooku.

“Yes,” Bane hummed in approval. “I can sense your hesitations at the jedi teachings.”

It wasn’t a question. He was more...leading me to explain. “Yes,” I allowed. “I understand they aim to control their abilities, which I do as well. But they allow not emotion. No attachment. That’s not...possible.” Bane floated before me, his hands folding behind his back. “Even two of their most powerful jedi have broken this rule. No one can truly let go of attachment.”

“So you see the lies of the jedi. They praise the light and try to snuff out the darkness with no regards to the power it provides. The freedom it provides. Do you understand that the Jedi Council would lose their power over others should their younglings understand this? This is why they fear the Dark Side so much.”

I understood. But something else flashed to my mind. “Wouldn’t that defeat the Rule of Two?”

“No,” Bane insisted, looming closer to peer at my face. “Those who were shown the truth would forsake the jedi ways, but they would not be Sith Lords. It would merely break the corrupt power of the jedi.”

“Why is the Dark Side...bad?”

“It’s not. The jedi have painted it so. In their overly righteous minds, they deem that all those with Force-sensitivity must serve the cause of the jedi--a cause they use to better themselves. Sith allow emotions, as it better connects us to the Force and strengthens our abilities within it.”

Every word he spoke drew me in further. He was right. I was angry. Hurt. Alone. Scared. The jedi would have be hush those feelings. Bury them deep within myself. Or even worse, let them go. 

They would belittle the things I’d gone through.

“I will teach you,” Darth Bane said again, floating before me. “Stand, apprentice.” Something within my swelled with pride at the title. I’d never been a formal student before. Even Jango had only taught me so that I didn’t die the second I left the planet. Bane wanted to teach me.

I stood, regarding my new teacher with some excitement.

“Close your eyes. Feel the living Force that flows through this planet.” I did as he asked, already aware of its power. “Think back. What makes you hurt? What angers you?”

That wasn’t hard to do, despite the memories being painful. I felt Bane in my mind, nudging me towards terrible memories, painting them in red in my mind. 

Living on the streets of Corellia, abandoned by parents I never knew. Forced to work for local gangs and criminals. The torture of the Zygerrians. The sting of their whips on my back--scars I still carried on my skin. The burn of the brand on my inner forearm. Being sold like livestock. Being eyed by all those who passed through Jabba’s Palace. Having to defend myself whenever Jabba wasn’t there to protect me. Death Watch. Defiling me. Using me. Scarring me even further until I barely had a will to live anymore. Jango dying. Boba blaming me. The jedi’s mistrust. Their plans to kill me because of my biology. Aurra pitting Boba against me. Rex...Rex saying he loved me. That he wanted me to stay.

I felt Bane in my mind. A part of me screamed that I understood Rex’s dilemma. I understood why he couldn’t leave. And then Bane entered my thoughts, splashing red over all the memories.

Rex had asked me to stay because he feared me. He wanted the jedi to control me. Maybe even kill me. He didn’t love me, like he claimed. He was trying to say whatever he could to keep me there.

“Good. Good,” Bane chuckled. “Feel your anger. Let it help you connect with the Force. Do you feel it?”

Angry tears pooled on my cheeks as I nodded, breathing heavily. “Yes.”

“Lift those rocks.” Bane gestured to a pile of heavy looking stones in the corner. My anger began to dissipate immediately.

“I’ve almost never done this on command. It’s always been...survival.”

Bane invaded my mind, bringing me back to Lawquane’s homestead. Rex had known about my Force abilities. Had he really just perceived that...or did he already know my secret? Was he a tool all along to gain my trust. To make sure the Republic--no-- the jedi had control over me?

“Lift them, my apprentice,” Bane demanded.

I turned to the rocks, stretching out my hands as I had in the past when I used the Force. I expected it to be difficult, as it had been before. I expected it to take all my concentration and will power.

Instead, fueled by my rage and confusion, the rocks lifted off the ground rather swiftly, surprising me. Still, my power drained quickly, my stamina within the Force poor at best. The rocks dropped back to the floor as I breathed heavily, looking at my own hands in awe.

“Good, my apprentice. You have incredible power. You will learn quickly,” he assured me. “The sith create their own lightsaber crystals,” he explained, floating before me with his hands behind his back. “They were once forged artificially through the Dark Side. Most apprentices I would have create their own. Yet, I sense that there is a particular crystal calling out to you.” That sentiment surprised me, considering I’d heard no call apart from Bane’s. 

Bane’s spirit swelled as if he was taking a breath before turning to me to glower from beneath his helmet.

“Go. Find this crystal that calls to you. Return when you have found it, and not before. Then your training will continue.”

I bowed my head slightly. Maybe it was my years as a slave. Or maybe it was Bane’s thoughts prodding me to do so. “Yes…” I hesitated for a brief moment. I’d had to call people master before, when I was a slave. But this...this was different. He was my master not as an owner, but as a teacher. “Yes, Master,” I said finally.

Bane’s spirit seemed pleased before his essence began to dissipate, the mist sliding back into the stone sarcophagus at the end of the room. I was left in darkness, aside from the pale moonlight that now filtered through the crack in the ceiling. 

I turned my flashlight back on before heading out of the tomb, hoping I could hear the call of whatever lightsaber was apparently meant for me.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Sorry for being off the map for so long. Lots going on. Updates should come with a bit more speed since I’ve actually already planned the next few chapters (so long as I keep up on actually writing them).

As always, reviews, comments, questions, and shares are always welcome and encouraged!

-Ryder

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Severed Bonds (Chapter 9)

Summary: Edge, Jedi Knight, is lost in a Galaxy without the Jedi Order and the only one left to him is one who already betrayed them all.

Tags/Warnings: Spicyhoney, Star Wars AU, Darkfic, Angst, Minor Character Deaths, Friends to Enemies to ?, Hatesex…?, Trauma, Implied Possible Insanity, Rough Sex, Lemons, Mentions of Prostitution,  Violence, Possessiveness

Severed Bonds: a Spicyhoney SW AU

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4: Interlude | CH5 | CH6: Interlude 2 | CH7 | CH8 

Read Chapter 9 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The streets of the port town of Naiver-12 were still crowded; no one attempted to stop the two of them as they hurried along the crumbling roads, filth once again coating their boots.

Once the Twi'lek raised an alarm, Edge didn’t expect that to last. There might not be an Imperial security presence on this planet but surely Jaulo had his own aside from the dead bodyguards. They would be none too pleased to learn of his demise.

A flicker of warning came through the Force and Edge grabbed Rus’s arm, pulling him into an alley. He resisted briefly in surprise, but then sank quickly back into the shadows as he looked out with narrowed sockets.

Heavy footsteps walked passed them and familiar white armor gleamed in the garish street lamps, giving lie to Edge’s assumption that there was no Imperial presence here.

“clone troopers?” Rus whispered. He sounded more insulted than concerned, his words sharp with indignation. “he sent clone troopers after me?”

“They’re effective.” And they were many. It sounded like an entire garrison marching past them.

“only when shooting unsuspecting allies in the back,” Rus muttered. His eye lights glowed fiercely in the dim alleyway. “and they don’t carry any credits. useless. we’re going to need a new ship.”

Edge balked at that, blurting out, “My cloak is on that ship.”

The absurdity only struck him after he said it, but it was one of the only possessions he had left.

“your cloak,” Rus repeated slowly. He looked back over his shoulder at Edge in disbelief. Then he giggled madly, eye lights dancing. “then by all means, let’s go back for your cloak.”

Laughter of his own rose in response and Edge couldn’t stop it. He tried muffling his hysteria in his hands, uselessly, it was all too much. Rus was fresh from murdering the person Edge had been ready to prostitute himself to and they were about to head back to their stolen ship because his cloak was there, and it wasn’t funny, except it was. It was hilarious.

He broke off when Rus suddenly pushed him to his knees, Edge’s face abruptly pressed smotheringly close to the front of his trousers by a hand on the back of his skull. For a disoriented moment he thought Rus was demanding what Jaulo had desired, but before he could decide what to do about that, Rus let out a throaty moan, his hips moving slightly.

“that’s it, whore, take it,” he grunted and only then did Edge register another presence at the mouth of the alley, gleaned their skittering curiosity and rising arousal. Rus kept grunting above him, mimicking, and finally he turned to snarl,“fuck off, this isn’t a free show.”

That presence moved away but before Rus could turn back to him, Edge lifted shaky hands to his hips, pressing a kiss to the hard curve of his pubic symphysis through the thin material of his trousers.

He felt Rus gasp, felt heat and hardness rising beneath his teeth before Rus yanked him back to his feet.

“not here,” he ground out. But his eye lights blazed with want and he didn’t let go of Edge’s arm, crowding him against the crumbling bricks behind them. Rus set his hands against the wall on either side of him, bones scraping faintly. He was the taller of the two of them and never had Edge felt the difference in their height so keenly as standing there with Rus staring fiercely down at him, his eye lights as brilliant orange as a flame.

This was utter madness; clone troopers were roaming the streets looking for them along with any of the departed Jaulo’s remaining hired thugs. People intent on revenge and death. Edge was still filthy, the evidence of their last tryst still staining his femurs, and he only looked at Rus with need clawing at his soul, whispering , “I can. I will.”

“you can and you will later,” Rus snapped. One long skeletal finger traced gently down the crack in Edge’s skull. He closed his sockets and breathed against the entwined pain and pleasure as Rus told him fiercely. “no one gets to see you on your knees but me. let’s go.”

Those words burned in his soul and Edge followed him.

It was both remarkably easy and emotionally painful to make their way unseen through the port. Keeping to the rooftops as much as they could, a little misdirection, a gesture to turn the attention of a weaker mind to another path. It brought back long ago memories of doing the same on other missions, a pair of Jedi ghosting away, seen only if they wished it. It was a skill of both Jedi and Sith, for entirely different reasons.

They came to the ship lot quickly enough and Rus crouched by the plasticrete fencing it, considering.

“they won’t have had time to refuel it yet,” Rus muttered. “and that ship barely has enough to get us to another solar system.”

“I worked hard on that ship.” And Edge didn’t want another death on their hands, not until the blood already on them had a chance to dry.

“that doesn’t mean much if we end up stranded without a life support system.” Rus caught sight of something outside Edge’s line of vision, sockets narrowing, and then he smiled suddenly. “hm. planning didn’t work so well for us, let’s see how winging it does.”

Yes, because letting Rus handle things had worked out so well for them thus far. “The Force can guide us.”

Rus made a low sound of scorn. “the force doesn’t guide me, jedi, i guide it. but this’ll do. wait here.”

Rus darted off with a gesture at Edge to stay put. Shouting after him would be markedly stupid, but Edge allowed Rus to feel his displeasure through their bond, another callback to days long past. To feel a pulse of giddy amusement back was wonderful and terrible, only tinged with madness, almost, almost his Rus.

He watched Rus’s shadowed form move through the shipyard, realizing too late that he was headed for an elderly uniformed Sluissi slithering along. There was a flare of red, a lightsaber on a short burn held up to their throat while Rus caught them up from behind.

Soul pounding with dread, Edge focused on listening in time to hear Rus growl to the Sluissi, “…so you can either take this, fill up that ship with fuel and have a tidy sum at the end, or i can kill you now and risk leaving with the fuel i have.”

Dangling between two fingers, Rus held up a ring with a large, garish stone and Edge belatedly recognized it as one of Jaulo’s.

True to their species, the old Sluissi didn’t even flinch from the saber burning close to his skin. They gave the ring an assessing look and snatched it away, stuffing it into a pocket. When Rus let them go, they slithered unhurriedly over to their ship and with a snap of their fingers a pack of droids carrying long hoses skittered to their tail and began swarming the ship.

Rus turned to him and wagged a finger in a ‘come hither’ gesture and Edge did, warily. It was difficult to hide his relief that Rus hadn’t simply killed the Sluissi, and from Rus’s smugness, Edge doubted he managed. “That was your plan?”

“no, that was winging it,” Rus said cheerily. “you just need to know how to talk to people.”

“When did you even have time to steal that?” Between the sex and them jumping from the window, there was very little leeway for petty theft.

“i had a few moments while you were careening towards the ground. i took a chance that you wouldn’t need me to catch you and look, it worked out for the best!”

At that moment, a hail of blaster fire fell over them and there was no more time for talking, not with a garrison of shouting clone troopers surrounding them. In seconds, both their lightsabers were blazing, returning the shots to their origins and shouting turned to screams.

So much for waiting on the blood to dry. By the end of this day, they would be bathed in it.

Rus might no longer believe the Force guided him, but Edge was more than willing to hand his fate over. He was doing a terrible job on his own.

-finis-

Next

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story): Chapter 18- Thicker Than Water

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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(Good grief, this one’s even longer. Full text after the cut, but I’d really suggest one of the links for best effect.) Content warning: references to and descriptions of torture.)

Chapter Eighteen: Thicker Than Water

16 ATC. Rishi.

This might be,  Nine thinks as she holds her blaster steady, finger about to switch off the safety, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Which really is impressive, given the span of her career so far includes some pretty spectacular feats of idiocy (all the way back to assuming Darth Jadus was ever dead. She knows better now- never believe anyone’s dead until you’ve got your own fingers on their lack of pulse and even then, put a round between their eyes just in case- but she forgave herself for that long ago. She didn’t know the game back then, thought she was a back row piece on the chessboard when of course she was just a pawn and they played her like one. But even pawns get to the last rank of the board sometimes, and when they do-

She’s not a pawn anymore. She’s a fucking queen.)

But holding an armed Sith Lord at blaster-point? She’d thought she could trust Lana, but so had Theron- if she’s wrong about this, she’s very likely about to lose a hand or worse and he’s probably going to die strapped to an interrogation table in some Revanite base and he doesn’t deserve that, Republic or not.

No one deserves that.

No matter how many times she’s dreamed about burning the entire SIS to the ground, she wouldn’t wish torture on her worst enemy. On Corellia she’d known what was going to happen, in abstract if not in detail, and she had a mission to complete and failure wasn’t in the game plan; still, when the straps tightened and Hunter’s people started their work there were moments when she almost hoped for a cut too deep, a hit too hard or a dose just a little too high, anything to make the pain stop for a moment-

Theron would have never seen it coming.

“With Theron inside their base, he’ll be able to do what he does.” Lana blinks down the barrel, one eyebrow twitching ever so slightly but her expression unreadable. “Once we retrieve him, we can-”

“Did you plan this?” She cuts in abruptly, well past the point of caring about rudeness. Sith or not, she needs to know.

Another blink. “Did I- what?”

“Did you,” she says it again, each word sharp as knives, “plan for Theron’s capture? Was that why you wouldn’t wait for me?”

Eyes widening, Lana moves slowly, carefully, to clip her saber back to her belt. “You think I- no. No! It went all wrong, but if we move quickly we can still retrieve Theron, preferably alive, and salvage the situation. Do put that away so I can explain, please.”

“I think we’re just fine like this. Don’t you, Jakarro?” As the wookiee roars agreement she curls and uncurls her finger, just so, in line with the trigger. “Explain. Now.”

(Would you really have shot me? Still half-buried in her pillow nest, Lana looks up at her, head tilted.  

A question like that merits a drink- she reaches for the bottle and drains the last of it. I needed to narrow down the possibilities, and I didn’t have much time to work with. The blaster helped.

You may need to explain that one, I’m afraid.

Keeping in mind that I didn’t know you then like I do now, and given my previous track record with Sith-  Lana nods agreement as she says it-  the way I saw it there were three options. One, that you were a Revanite all along. Theron wouldn’t turn, so you had him captured and waited to see how I’d react-

When Lana’s really, honestly amused she can always tell: if she laughs in public (which she rarely does) it’s the clipped, terse chuckle that’s a native species to Dromund Kaas in its own right, the sort of laugh that doesn’t draw attention because when one grows up in the Empire’s heart one learns to conform or suffer the consequences. But in private, like now, it’s something else entirely, rising and falling, notes on a musical scale. Did you honestly believe that?

It was by far the least likely scenario- too complicated by half, and if I’d objected you’d have had to deal with me and Jakarro at the same time. In any case, you didn’t attack me when I drew on you, so that one was out.

Option two? Lana shifts over onto her stomach, chin resting on her hands and forehead crinkled in thought.

The most likely option, all things considered. You were telling the truth. The mission went bad, Theron was compromised, and you let him get captured in the hope that he’d manage to both survive and learn something useful in the process.  She shakes her head.  Risky and stupid, but you would have wanted to explain yourself. You would have thought I’d agree with you.

An eyeroll, a grumble, and a pillow tossed in her direction-  You don’t have to lecture me again, you know. I’m aware-

Did Theron ever talk about what happened? With Revan?

No. Lana shakes her head. Even when he came to Asylum, he never brought it up. So I thought it better to let it lie rather than reopening old wounds. Did he tell you?

A little. Enough. I-  she pauses. Have you ever been interrogated? Not as practice, not debriefing- actually interrogated.

A second headshake. I’ve been fortunate. I’ve seen more of them than I’d care to, given my particular talent-  her lip curls, her tone dry- but before I served Darth Arkous I spent most of my time with the historians, and with your warnings about Darth Zhorrid’s proclivities I was able to keep mostly clear of her after my promotion.

Then you wouldn’t understand what it’s like. Not like we do.

I don’t think that’s fair,  Lana says. I’m sure it was painful and I know it could have gone badly, but Theron-

She holds up one hand. No. I’m sorry, but no. You don’t understand, and you don’t get to justify it.

Then why don’t you explain it to me?

If I could tell you, I…  No. There aren’t words to put to those feelings, not ones that anyone else would understand (except for Theron- he understands. Maybe even better than she does).  You know, it might be easier to show you. Do you remember Valkorion’s little mind games from before, on the Gravestone?

Lana nods.

Let’s try this, then. An exercise. She stands, reaching back toward her desk for her datapad. Think of that, and keep that pressure in your head, and I want you to read me.

All right. But why the datapad?

I’m going to play something in the background. With reverse interrogations that’s often all you get, assuming your captors aren’t total incompetents- snippets of conversations, a whisper they think you can’t hear. Theron was-  she almost said lucky, but no, he wasn’t lucky at all-  Revan liked to talk, so that helped, but…  She sighs. Ten minutes. Ten minutes, then tell me what you heard.

She loads two files. First, her recording of two days ago’s logistics meeting, scanning forward to the end, to when they’d started to rehash the Nar Shaddaa shield bunker problem for the hundredth time. Second, to trigger the appropriate memory- this one takes her longer, buried six folders deep and behind three separate passwords- SCORPIO’s recording of Corellia.

(She ought to have deleted it a long time ago. It’s not healthy, probably, keeping things like that around.)

Hour ten, she thinks. A particularly unpleasant hour.

She presses play on the second file, sound muted, her attention focused on the screen. It takes a moment, even so, to pull the walls down from around the hours of time it took months of deliberate effort to suppress, but then, finally…  Ah.  She hisses, her head starting to throb. There it is.

Shall we begin? Remember, imagine Valkorion too, if you want an idea of what Theron felt.  

Lana reaches out for her arm as she pushes her sleeve up, fingers circling her wrist.  I’ll try. Show me.

Still watching the recording play, she lets herself fall back into the memory as the connection between them solidifies.

[by hour ten she was hurting bad: the truth serum was useless, of course, but they’d pushed the dose to a point that left her dizzy and feverish; her right eye aches, the lid swollen shut and her nose and three ribs broken (not her fingers yet, though- that was hour fourteen). they’ve grown bored of hitting her and it hasn’t gotten them what they want.

 the woman’s leaning her forward, pulling up her jacket while her body howls protest, and tapes the electrode array to the base of her spine as her partner does the same along the soles of her bare feet.

i’ve already told you everything i know, she says. this isn’t going to change anything.

the woman looks at her, then to the still-active holocomm where hunter’s standing, arms crossed. your call, boss. keep going?]

Shifting, restless and uncomfortable, Lana tightens her grip; she starts the first file, leaving it playing in the background as-

[she’s a very good liar, hunter grins.  ten minutes, i think, and we’ll try again.  turning, hunter eyes her up and down. oh, legate. this would be so much easier if you hadn’t changed your programming. at this rate you’re going to miss the whole party.

she smiles, lips dry. she’d kill for a glass of water; she’d kill for a lot of things, at the moment. think i’ll pass. the hors d'oeuvres were terrible.

your loss. stars, she hates that laugh. let’s begin.

it builds slowly, a prickle in her toes, crawling slowly up her legs into the muscles of her back, and at first she thinks maybe it won’t be so bad and then the man in armor, the leader of the trio holding her captive, reaches for the control box and cranks the dial up and-]

It’s hard to watch. She can almost feel it, the electricity coursing in ten-second pulses through her body until she’s arching against the restraints, and she remembers the noise she made, a inhuman keening wail she wouldn’t have known as her own voice except that recordings do not lie. There was no helping it, of course, no shame in it. But still.

After the first minute Lana curls onto her side, eyes closed, fingernails of her contact hand digging into the underside of her forearm and her other hand clenched into a fist pressed tight against her mouth. After two minutes she tries to pull away.

I said ten minutes.  She lowers her arm against the surface of the couch, pinning Lana’s hand between her wrist and the cushions. Not yet.

[the stutter-stop irregularity of it’s the hardest thing- thirty seconds of rest and then five bursts in a row, then another pause and then three, then six, then two, again and again, so she can’t count them, can’t know when to fight it and when to stop fighting-]

You never do, Valkorion says, stirring in the back of her mind, brushing the memory aside like a child throwing an unwanted toy as he forces himself forward.  With my power at your disposal you could bring my children to heel in the span of a heartbeat and yet still you fight me. It would be so much easier if-

(He did that on purpose. She’s certain of it. For a moment he even sounds like Hunter.)

With a gasp and a twitch she throws all her mental walls back up, knocking the datapad off her lap and sending it clattering to the floor. Lana startles, too, hands moving to her temples as her eyes fly open.

Was that-?

She sighs. Unintentional. I’m not sure what he might be able to do through a one-sided connection, but I assume you’re not particularly interested in finding out.

You would be correct. When Lana stands she’s wobbly on her feet, hanging onto the back of the couch and then the edge of the holotable as she makes her way to the refresher. Excuse me. Door half-shut behind her, barely audible but unmistakable over the sound of running water, she retches- once, twice, then splashing at the basin and the tap shutting off. When she emerges again she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand before returning to sit beside her, face colorless and lips pressed tight together and completely avoiding her questioning gaze.

That was cruel of me, she whispers after a minute into the silence between them. I apologize.

You don’t- I really did think you’d agree with me. Her head doesn’t move but her eyes dart sideways, briefly, before she focuses back on the far wall. I only had a few seconds to make the decision, and we hadn’t heard back from you. It might have been our last real chance to get to the heart of things. But-  Lana wipes her face again, the pressure of her fingertips leaving faint pink marks on her forehead and down her cheeks- Force help me. No wonder you were so angry. And no wonder Theron hated me for it, if what you showed me was anything like what happened with Revan.

Reaching down for the fallen datapad, she shuts it off, sets it on the table. Different goals, so it’s not an even comparison. Close enough for our purposes, though. And again, I didn’t mean for Valkorion to interfere. That part of the exercise was supposed to be theoretical but he-

Is that what it feels like all the time?  Lana interjects, finally looking at her again. I don’t know how you stand it.

No, thankfully. Only when he’s active, which isn’t terribly often. Sometimes I almost forget.

(Then I shall have to endeavor, he says, the thought snaking around her consciousness like creeping ivy, to be more memorable.)

But only almost. Going back to the point: do you remember anything you heard of the recording I was playing?

Not a damned thing. I barely knew it was there, let alone being able to focus on it. That- she bares her teeth, an expression halfway between apology and pain. Ah, fuck, that hurt so much, Nine.

That makes her blink; she can count on one hand the number of times she’s heard her really properly swear. I know. I’m sorry.

Me, too, Lana says. Me, too.

Suddenly she’s tired. As they both lean back, letting the cushions bear them up, they settle against each other, shoulder against shoulder, pressure and weight comforting in their familiarity. (For a moment she thinks of Yavin IV, after the battle, huddled exhausted on a fallen pillar waiting for evac back to base camp, with her body accorded neutral territory between Theron on her right and Lana on her left. Six years on, everything and nothing at all have changed.)

What was the third option? You knew the second was the right one, but-

Oh. Yes. She chuckles faintly. Option three was somewhere between the first two. You weren’t a Revanite, but you’d run out of patience. You knew Jakarro’s intel on the house was wrong- through the Force, maybe, I don’t know how- and you set Theron up deliberately. You sent me to Torch’s island to keep me from interfering and you threw him to the wolves. Our last best chance.

You know I didn’t.

She runs her hand along the underside of her opposite wrist, along the half-moon indentations left by five neat fingernails. You were a bad liar back then, and I’m about as Force-sensitive as a rock but I know a lie when I hear one. I believed you.

I’ve had too much practice between then and now, Lana murmurs, but not to you. For the sake of curiosity, what would have happened had you decided it was option three?

If I thought that you were capable of that, after all we’d already done together? Raising her index finger, she brushes the bangs off Lana’s forehead then taps sharply, once, exactly in the center. It would have been quick. But I’d have blown your fucking head off.)

  ***

They rent a boat at the dock.

“A hunting party,” she tells the Rishii at the slip. Anywhere else that would have raised eyebrows, given Kaliyo’s hauling a backpack that’s half her size and entirely full of explosives- she’d told her, when she called the ship, to come loaded for bear and by the look of it she’d emptied the armory- but today the Rishii just unties the lines and wishes them good hunting.

There’s something to be said for pragmatism, though she doubts Theron would agree at the moment.

The little village on the island’s surprisingly welcoming, too, considering they’ve lost half their territory to an armed camp of fanatics; within half an hour they’ve got a temporary base set up in a stone-and-thatch hut with a good view of the valley beyond. To go by the comm traffic Dee-Four’s intercepted so far the Revanites’ main stronghold is somewhere on the far side of the island, hidden in the dense jungle, but the native scouts don’t seem to know any more than they’ve managed on their own.

So she and Kaliyo ride out on borrowed speeders, leaving Lana and Jakarro in the village to keep sorting through data.

(She’d left Jakarro a one-line message: instructions, just in case her gut instinct had played them wrong and Lana made another move in her absence.

Lana doesn’t need to hear that, though. In retrospect it was paranoia, and she’s hurt her enough already for today.)

“Bad intel and no plan. Lucky for you, I hate plans.” Kaliyo turns to her at the top of the valley path as they pull a camouflage net over the speeders; engines tuned for endurance, the bikes make far too much noise to reach the camp unnoticed but at least they’re close now. “We’re cloaking in, yeah?”

“Yes. The closer we get without alarms up, the more likely Theron’s still alive when we get there.”

She nods, adjusts the stealth device. “Syncing now. How are we playing if we’re blown?”

“Hard and fast. We don’t have time or personnel for surrenders.” Slipping her rifle free of her back harness, she checks it one last time. “Shoot to kill.”

“My favorite words. And it’s not even my birthday.” Kaliyo flashes her a quick grin but she doesn’t return it, and after a moment she shrugs and finishes tying down the net. “We’ll get there. What’s his clock at?”

She looks down at her chrono, at the third timer counting inexorably upward beneath the little dials of local and Standard Time. “Three hours and six minutes. Let’s move.”

***

The Imperial commander, a pathetic grasping little Sith of the sort ubiquitous around the Kaas City Sanctum, wants to talk and wants out of the Revanite mess but doesn’t know anything at all- utterly typical. Killing him would only waste time, though, so she sends him and his honor guard packing and moves on to the Republic camp; one less leader’s still progress, if only a little.

The Republic compound guards, on the other hand, refuse to stand down. They waste a quarter-hour trying to snipe from cover before she lets Kaliyo blow the place to pieces, a block of detonite on the back door and four grenades through the skylight an inelegant but effective solution.

They haven’t time for elegance. This is taking far too long.

The captain’s dying when they finally get through the door into the main room, his belly full of shrapnel as he drags himself toward a terminal against the far wall. She puts her foot on the back of his neck, tilts her head toward the terminal. Kaliyo moves toward it, pulling out a spike to transfer the data.

“Going somewhere?” To judge by his pallor he’ll bleed out soon. “I can make the pain stop, you know. All you have to do is tell me where to find Revan.”

The man coughs, looks up at her out of the corner of his eye as he stops resisting, going limp against the floor. “I don’t know-” another cough- “I don’t know where Revan is. But there’s a stronghold to the northeast, in the other valley, where they took Theron Shan. Revan might be-” he gasps, shifting under the pressure of her boot. “Please. It hurts.”

“Only for a moment,” she says, and fires a round into the back of his head.

***

Time since capture: four hours, twenty-eight minutes. Probability of survival: 83 percent.

***

The captain’s data tells them four useful things.

First, that prisoners are held in the largest building in the far valley complex, surrounded by turrets and watchtowers and military-grade door encryptions, and that the codes on the spike are yesterday’s.

Second, that Revan’s warships wait on a nearby island for a signal that hasn’t yet been given, the purpose of which is still unclear.

Third, that the First Imperial Fleet, Darth Marr at its helm, will pass through Rishi space tomorrow morning.

And fourth, that the bulk of the Republic fleet, ostensibly on a patrol mission (but who brings one’s entire fleet on a patrol mission?) along the Manda Merchant Route, is due to jump to Rishi-

“Tomorrow.” She swears, and pushes back from the terminal with a frustrated huff. “That’s Revan’s plan. They’ll come out of hyperspace right on top of each other. It’ll be a slaughter.”

Lana shakes her head. “That can’t be all of it. Darth Marr wouldn’t risk the entire fleet without at least attempting to contact the Republic commander, not this far from reinforcements, and the moment Revan puts himself in play-”

“What’s the Republic flagship? Do we know?” She paces back and forth along the inside of the little hut. “If it’s Saresh at the helm, or one of her puppets, Marr may not have a choice.”

“Unclear.” Dee-Four chimes in. “I am still attempting to decrypt the remaining files, but the information is incomplete.”

The information is incomplete- it’s the chorus to a song she just can’t get out of her head.

“Then we continue with the original plan,” Lana says, head still bowed over the console. “We attempt to extract Theron from the stronghold and hope he- or we- learned something in the meantime.”

(Did I really say that?  Lana wrinkles her nose.  Extract. Rather like a sliver. Or a parasite.

She laughs; they’re still shoulder to shoulder, and she elbows her teasingly. It’s the right word for it, technically speaking, though Theron would probably be offended by the comparison. And yes, you did.

I don’t- I didn’t mean it like that.

I know,  she says. Although he does have a knack for getting under one’s skin, doesn’t he?)

Only four kolto syringes in the bag, and another two in her belt pouch- she loads the extras in with hers, but it won’t be nearly enough. “We? You’re not going anywhere. I need Kaliyo to talk to the village leader. If they have healing supplies, buy everything you can.” She throws a credit chip across the room and Kaliyo palms it, tucks it into a pocket with a nod. “Think Corellia. And call Lokin. I need him standing by.”

Kaliyo makes a face and nods again; Lana and Jakarro simply look confused.

“I need you and Jakarro to keep running that data and try to reach the fleets,” she continues, “and I’m going to need slicing support when I hit the valley.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” Arms folded across her chest, Lana shakes her head emphatically. “Far too dangerous. If you’re captured-”

She fixes her with a flat stare as she fastens the pouch. “If I’m captured, Theron dies. Believe me, I’m well aware of the risk.”

“Cipher, please. We can’t afford to lose both of you.”

“Of course you can’t. But you ought to have thought of that before.” Turning on her heel, she leaves the hut.

***

Time since capture: five hours, forty-two minutes. Probability of survival: 71 percent.

***

She drags the guard behind the watchpost before she comms Lana. Night’s fallen over the island and he won’t be getting up again, of course- he never saw her coming and she opened his throat, quick and quiet- but there are other guards and it wouldn’t do to have one of them notice the body.

“I need to keep moving,” she whispers. “If you can get the perimeter systems offline, it’d make my life a lot easier.”

“On it. Jakarro?” There’s a rumble of assent somewhere in the background, and after a few seconds the turrets around the watchpost power down; she watches on the monitor as the rest of the system follows suit. “I’ve got schematics for the main building. Sending the file now.”

Two quick buzzes. She pulls up the diagram, flips her eyepiece down to overlay it on her vision. (She hates the eyepiece: too many people become reliant on them, forgetting how to navigate or aim or track without artificial assistance. But she can’t afford a wrong turn, not today.) “Any cameras inside? Looks like that building goes deep.”

“A few. Just a moment. I’m getting the hang of this slicing business, but- there we- oh.” Lana trails off, going quiet. “No live feeds, I’m afraid, but there are logs from the interrogation room.”

“Timestamp?”

“Half an hour ago. Should I-”

Ah, Force, if she’s already too late- “Load it.”

The feed angle’s bad, just a surveillance camera rather than a proper interrogation recording; she can barely see Theron around the robed figure standing beside the table. The volume’s low, too, nearly impossible to hear when routed through her comm, but that’s definitely his voice, shaky and pained, and someone answering from out of frame-

Lana hisses. “Revan.”

The image shudders, static cutting across the screen, and Theron screams. She knows that noise. She’s made that noise.

(I’d forgotten that recording.

I’m not surprised, she says. It’s not something most people would choose to remember.)

 Fuck.

“Get the main doors open.” She takes off across the walkway toward the main building, still stealthed but practically running, still too slow. “I’m going in.”

  ***

Time  since capture: seven hours, three minutes. Probability of survival: 58 percent.

 ***

It is not for nothing that they call her the Ghost of the Empire, and not only because she no longer has a name.

Blasters, even silenced, make noise. A hand over a mouth, a knife edge darting swiftly over arteries or a point slipping neatly between two ribs- no wasted energy, each movement precise and possessed of a morbid sort of beauty, and there is something intensely satisfying, especially on days like today, about someone else’s blood on one’s hands.

There were ten guards roaming the quiet hallways between the front door and the main control room; now there are none, the alarms still untriggered, and her exit route is clear for another forty minutes until change of watch. Sneaking past would have been faster and infinitely less messy, but even if she can reach Theron without being detected she doubts it’ll stay that way once he’s free and he’ll be slow enough, probably, without needing to fight the guards as they flee.

An ounce of preparation, as the saying goes.

If the schematics are right the holding cells should be just through this room. As she crosses the threshold, though, the holotable in its center activates and-

pressure sensor? they can’t see me maybe it’s just a guard checking in don’t make a noise don’t get caught don’t get caught

“Hello, Cipher,” Revan says. “Excellent timing. We’re just beginning to implement the last stage of the plan. You’ll be able to witness it finally come to fruition.”

Well. That’s that.

I’m sorry, Theron.

She switches off her stealth generator. “Revan. This could have all been avoided if you’d only stayed dead, you know. Where’s Theron?”

He laughs at that, the bastard. “That’s unimportant. As are you. Do you really think you can stop what’s been set in motion?”

“I’ve heard that before. Why don’t you tell me the details and we’ll see?”

Revan laughs again, a cold metallic echo behind his mask. He isn’t here, then. He’d have come for her by now if he was here. “Bold little thing. Pity. When the Republic and the Empire destroy each other, when we craft a new world out of the ashes of the old, there might have been a place for you in it. But I suspect you’d be less than cooperative.”

“Believe it or not, I tend to react badly when people try to kill my friends.” Slowly, she starts toward the door, edging little by little along the margin of the table. If she can get to the prison corridor before the alarm sounds, maybe there’s still a chance. “Your battle hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t won.”

“So stubborn. Theron couldn’t be persuaded either, though I suppose that shouldn’t have been a surprise.” Arms folded across his chest, the hologram Revan shakes his head. “Tenacity runs in our blood, even if-”

Our?

She’s almost to the far door when it slides open abruptly, the concussive edge of an explosion in the hallway beyond knocking her back against the holotable as it flickers and dies and Revan disappears. As she struggles to right herself, a cluster of blaster bolts rockets past the open door- not through; whoever’s firing isn’t aiming at her.  

Alarms in the corridor. Footsteps, too, irregular but fairly quick, moving closer, rounding the doorframe- “Don’t listen to him! There’s still a chance.”

“Theron.” How long has she been holding her breath? Suddenly, somehow, she can breathe again. “You’re alive.”

Blaster clutched in his hand, he slaps the panel beside the door and it hisses closed, the lock engaging. “Mostly. I-” He staggers, clutching at the edge of the table, his wrist ringed with a deep gouge just visible under his jacket cuff, two fingers of his left hand unbending and the angle of his thumb somehow wrong. “We’ve got to get to their signal jammer. Revan’s blocking all communication over Rishi space and he’s got saboteurs in both fleets- they’ll take down shields, weapons, everything. If we can’t warn them before they get here, it’ll be a massacre. They-” Out of breath, he trails off.

He learned something after all. Clever boy.

“That’s the piece of the puzzle we were missing. We knew about the fleets, but not the sabotage.” Force, he looks terrible. “Here. I’ve got kolto, but we’ve got to get out of here before someone realizes all the entrance guards are dead. We can update Lana and Jakarro on the move.”

Theron finally seems to see her- how he can see anything with both eyes purpled and swollen nearly shut, his nose puffy and oozing blood and his lower lip split is beyond her comprehension. “I didn’t think anyone was going to come. I got out of the restraints and grabbed my gear, figured I could make it to the front door, but I forgot about the droids-” he gasps when he tries to straighten. “Then I heard you. I should have known you’d come for me.”

That explains his thumb- with no lockpick, there’s only one good way to get out of cuffs. Reaching into her pouch for the first two kolto injectors, she crouches next to him, presses one into each of his thighs and hits the buttons. “I had to- sorry,” she says as he flinches, “I wasn’t going to leave you. Not like this. Not after what Lana did.”

“She told you?”

“Yes.“

Theron sighs. “Did she mean for this to happen?”

“No.”

“And you believe that.” He doesn’t, clearly, his mouth curling and his tone incredulous.

She chuckles, discarding the empty syringes. “I had a blaster pointed at her face. She might have been lying, but I rather doubt it.”

He blinks down at her. “You had a bl- you’re kidding.”

“Do I look-” she pulls two more syringes and sinks them home, hands him a clean cloth to hold against his bleeding mouth- “like I’m kidding?”

“Not really, no.” His color’s a little better, but only a little, and something about his posture makes her nervous. “Still, better me than you. Revan would have just killed you. He wanted me to join him, wanted me to- you heard him. Our blood. Our legacy.” When she rises he leans on her. “Fuck legacy. He’s insane.”

“You’re related to Revan.” It isn’t a question.  

Theron nods again, then stops, his eyes unfocused from too much movement. “It’s… complicated. I don’t even know how he knew. He could just tell, somehow- he got inside my head- he-”

(Did you know?

Not then. I knew of the Shan line of Jedi from my research- Theron’s grandmother Tasiele had some intriguing ideas about the Force- but it’s a common name.  Lana shakes her head.  I didn’t make the connection until I saw him with Satele.)

The entire building shakes and he stumbles again, balanced between her and the table, and a second alarm starts to shriek above the first.  Power core cooling offline. Time to detonation: five minutes.

“It can’t ever be easy, can it?” She lifts his arm over her shoulders and he gasps again, inhaling, and she can feel the shudder move beneath her through every muscle of his back. “Ready to move?”

“Easy’s for amateurs.” That might have been a wink, though it’s hard to tell with his eyelids still half-closed. “I’m ready. The generator’s two rooms over, I think, with a console. I can-” he looks to his left hand, the unmoving fingers. “I can talk you through it.”

“I’ve got you.” As they start to move she has to fight to stay upright; he’s leaning on her hard and he’s at least a hand taller than she is, but she’s got him. They don’t have a choice. “Let’s go.”

(Even after all of that, she says, we would have died if not for you.

One corner of Lana’s mouth barely moves, the faintest hint of a smile. Theron taught me some slicing, those months that we were running. Without him I wouldn’t have had any idea how to disable a power core.

Well, thank the Force for that.)

  ***

Somehow they make it to the woods, to the clearing where she’d hidden the speeder, and when Theron slumps over onto the seat she gives him the last two injections.

“If you sit behind me, can you hold on?”

“I think so. How’s your driving?” He’s still ashen, his color off; Kaliyo’d scrounged up another half-dozen doses of kolto, though, so if they can make it back to the village he should be fine. (Should be. She needs a scanner or better, Doctor Lokin, but they’ll have to get back to Raider’s Cove for that and the fleets are less than eight hours away and-

They can do this.)

She fires up the speeder, sliding onto the seat in front of him. “Lead foot and no sense of self-preservation?”

“Liar- you keep yourself alive just fine. But in that case you should take up swoop racing.” Theron’s arms slip around her waist as she takes off down the trail, his chest against her back. “Those are pretty much the only prerequisites.”

“‘m too heavy, I think. Swoop racers are all built like birds.” Looking back over her shoulder, she checks their tail. Clear, finally.

“True. I was a lot lighter,” he says into her ear, “back then.”

She laughs, though she isn’t sure he hears her over the noise of the engine. “What, some kind of SIS cover story?”

“Way before that. Misspent youth.” When they hit a tree root he winces, holding onto her tighter. “I’ll… I probably shouldn’t, but if we survive this, I’ll tell you some of the story, alright?”

“You definitely shouldn’t, but I’m holding you to that. Just a little further.”

Theron’s quiet the rest of the way back to the village, another twenty minutes’ journey over the rough forest paths, and finally, finally, she can see the narrow way up to the hut and brings the bike to a halt just in front of it.

“We’re here-” she kills the engine- “you can let go now.”

He doesn’t.

“Theron? Are you okay?”

When she turns to look at him the twisting of her body breaks his grip; he lets go and falls, sideways, toward the dirt and his eyes don’t open and she can’t catch him at this angle and-

“Lana!” Her cry echoes off the cliff faces around them and back into the valley. “Lana, I need your help.”

***

Author’s Notes:

-Another experimental chapter, sorry. I heard you like flashbacks, so I put some flashbacks in- hm. Quite enough of that.

-Per Annihilation, Theron was, in fact, a swoop bike racer at some point in his teens. I can see it.

Up next: Bright Spot, in which your exasperated author may just build voodoo dolls of these two idiots and scream NOW KISS at them until they decide to cooperate.