#they get put down and the jedi are stuck doing that for an ungrateful galaxy

[whippedcloudsofcream]

Qimir, a Sith Lord, straight up gutted a child with no remorse and after says that he wants to exercise his power however he wishes and fans really say “The Sith are oppressed uwu 🥺”

[calebdumes]

I’m back with more Inquisitor!Kanan that no one asked for! If I keep this up (who am I kidding I probably will) I’ll have to make it a Real Thing™ and post it on AO3. Thanks to all who give it a read! I appreciate you!

Fandom: Star War Rebels

Rating: T (mild violence, vomiting)

Word Count: 1.6k

~

Kanan was shaking. From cold or fear, it didn't matter, his body was trembling uncontrollably. The binders on his wrist cut into his skin, leaving behind small nicks of blood but he didn't notice it. He was too busy watching the Inquisitor. He was a Pau'an with dark red markings that stood out on his grey, skull like face. His yellow eyes were ringed with red and watched Kanan with a sickening hunger. The darkside dripped off of him in lazy rolls, twisting and curling around Kanan making it hard to breathe. He shook harder. 

Six years. He had been on his own for six years and never once did anything to catch the Empire's eye. But then he had to go and save the life of an ungrateful Devaronian from dying a horrible death under a mountain of rubble. He hadn't even been actively thinking about using the Force, it just happened and that was all it took. One well placed security camera and Kanan's inability to let fate run its course had him in chains bound for certain death. 

He had heard the stories of what happened to the Jedi that survived the Purge. None of it was good. Kanan could only hope for a quick death but from the sinister glint in the Inquisitor's eye, he had a feeling he was in for something, much, much worse.

Kanan felt the transport shuttle jolt as it touched down. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his chest as the other two inquisitors who came from him jumped down from the cockpit. The Pau'an smiled at him, revealing his pointed teeth. No one said a word as the ramp lowered, emitting a cold and biting salty breeze. One of the other inquisitors yanked Kanan to his feet and pushed him out of the shuttle. The inquisitors flanked him as he stumbled down the ramp. He stepped onto the thin walking platform that was suspended above still water that stretched as far as the eye could see. 

The platform ended at a tall dark spire that speared the glassy surface like a dagger. In the sky was the hellist glow of Mustafar. 

With every step Kanan took towards the spire he could feel the darkside tighten its hold on him, weighing him down until he didn't think he'd be able to move at all. The P'aun Inquisitor behind him gave him a forceful push, causing him to falter as the doors to the spire loomed before him. He dug his heels in but the bodies around Kanan were undeniable. 

Kanan lost track of time, the Force moving around him thick and hazy that he couldn't recall entering the Inquisitor's fortress or how he ended up strapped to an interrogation chair. But he did remember the pain. It coursed through him like fire, ripping his skin and muscles down until they were exposed nerves. With every shock his body convulse violently, straining against the metal vices that held him in place. Kanan bit through his tongue trying to hold back his screams. Hot blood filled his mouth, choking him as another round of pain washed over him. 

The Pua'an never asked him any questions - never said a word. He just kept sending bolt after bolt of electricity through Kanan's body until he wasn't even sure he had a body left. Time lost all meaning. He didn't know how long he had been strung up in the chair, at the mercy of the Pua'an, years could have gone by, centuries. When it did stop, Kanan slumped against his restraints, panting, bleeding, and wishing for a death that would never come. Not yet. 

The Inquisition had a new play thing to torture. They wouldn't let him go now that they had him. 

Kanan blinked weakly against the harsh light as a door somewhere out of sight hissed open. Mechanical breathing filled the space and with it a chill that sunk right to the bottom of Kanan's bones. Beside the Pua'an inquisitor stood a masked figure that had Kanan instinctually trying to scramble away, his legs kicking fruitlessly at the metal surface of the chair. 

"What have you brought me, Grand Inquisitor?" the masked figure asked in a deep voice. 

"Depa Billaba's Padawan my lord." the Pua'an responded in a crips Core accent.  

"Ah, the lost Padawan." There was recognition in his tone that made Kanan's skin crawl. "Caleb Dume."

Kanan shook his head, ignoring the spark of pain that flared behind his eyes. No, no that wasn't him. His name was Kanan, Kanan Jarrus - not Caleb. 

"We shall see." the masked man said, his voice echoing in Kanan's mind. He reached his hand out and everything went dark. 

"Follow along younglings." Master Luminara said. "And do try to stay together." She led a small group of three Jedi younglings through the busy hallways of the Republic Senate building. Species from all over the galaxy roamed the gleaming corridors, running to and fro with data pads in their hands or having hushed conversations as they wandered by. Caleb watched them all with curious eyes. He could already feel the questions bubbling to the forefront of his mind.  

Sammo could too and sent a sharp elbow into his side. "Don't even think about it Dume. We haven't even been assigned a Senator yet."

Caleb stuck out his tongue but his Twi'Lek friend had already turned his attention back on Master Luminara. Nerves ate at his belly. Today they would be assigned a Senator to shadow for five rotations to learn how the Senate worked. Some of the older initiates and Padawans had told stories about how boring it was or how mean some of the Senators were. Caleb tried to brush their tales away but some of the fear still remained. 

No, not  fear. A Jedi didn't fear silly things like meeting Senators. He was just cautious, that's all. And Master Kenobi always said it was wise to have caution.

The graceful Mirialan Master stopped outside of an arched silver doorway and waved her hand over the door chime. The doors parted silently and she ushered the younglings in.

Caleb, pushed behind Sammo and Tai, stood on the tips of his toes to try and see the Senator they were being assigned to. 

"Senator Amidala," Master Luminara said. "These are the younglings who will be shadowing you this week. Sammo Quid, Tai Uzuma, and Caleb Dume."

Caleb darted to the side of Tai to stand in line with the other members of his cohort, smoothing down the folds of his tan tunic.

Senator Amidala was beautiful, with dark hair pulled back away from her kind looking face and held in place with thin golden strips of metal. Her gowns were a deep purple that shimmered like twilight. She stood before them with a warm smile that chased away all the fears Caleb had about this assignment. 

"Hello younglings." she offered kindly. "I look forward to spending-"

"But why?" Caleb whispered. They were in the Senate Chamber, thousands of worlds represented in one echoing room. Chancellor Palpatine stood in the center on a raised dais, calmly listening to two senators arguing with one another.

Senator Amidala smiled down at him. "You certainly like that word don't you?"

Caleb blinked, confused. "What word?"

"Why." She chuckled.  

"He doesn't know when to stop using it." Tai grumbled from the other side of the Senator. 

"Well I think it's a wonderful thing.”

Caleb blushed. "I guess it is kind of annoying."

"There is nothing wrong with asking questions youngling, as long as you are asking the right ones."

"But how will I know if they are the right ones?"

"Now, that is a question I can't answer for you. That one you'll have to figure out on-”

Senator Amidala wrapped him up in a warm hug, placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "I'm going to miss having you younglings around!" she said, taking a step back.

Caleb could feel the heat color his cheeks. Sammo's face was more purple than blue. Tia, well Tia was Tia but Caleb could tell that she appreciated the Senator's praise. "I hope to see you around after you pass your trials."

"Maybe so if we ever put an end to this war." a new voice said from the doorway. Senator Amidala's face lit up as she looked at the Master who came to collect them.

"Ani - I mean, Master Skywalker. What are you doing here?"

"I came to get these younglings out of your hair." Master Skywalker smirked. 

Caleb felt his heart stutter in his chest. Master Skywalker! Master Skywalker was going to take them back to the Temple! Maybe he could give him some lightsaber pointers or maybe he could explain how -

Kanan slammed back to the present. Bile climbed up his throat burning the abused flesh. He barely had the energy to turn his head before he retched. Tears and snot ran down his face as he heaved, his mind a swirling mist of polluted memories. Tendrils of the darkside clung to him, unrelenting in their torment. 

The Sith had torn into his mind with calculated anger and vengeance. Ripping into long forgotten memories and tossing them aside until he found what he was looking for. And when he did, Kanan didn't think he'd ever be able to think again. The pain was more than physical, it was more than just a passing moment. It was everything. 

"Leave us." the Sith said. Kanan couldn't stop the whimper that escaped his lips.

"My Lord?”

"I said leave us." 

The Sith reached his hand out yet again and Kanan screamed.  

[otterandterrierwrites]

Five things Han Solo believed in (and one that proved them all wrong)

A/N: I was going to post this one last Scoundress Saturday but it's a bit more Han-centric and I had the other fic ready anyway. It actually started as a response to a headcanon prompt about beliefs, and then it inspired me to write my take on the legendary “five (x) this character (x) and one that (x)” trope. Happy Hump Day!

I.

He's not jaded; he's just lived. Seen stuff, heard stuff. Had stuff happen to him. Been to many corners of the galaxy, from ritzy casinos to the lowest hole-in-the-walls. Everywhere, some people struggle and some people take advantage, some assholes live and some good folk die… or worse. When you've lived enough, you see there's no bigger plan. There's no god, no all-powerful force or mystical energy behind anything that happens. How could it? If such a thing existed, why would they let awful things happen? No, it's people who control their own destiny, and sometimes the destiny of others. One thing is for sure: nobody controls where Han Solo goes.

II.

The truth is, rich people can afford to be idealists. Okay so, the princess lost everything now, but she got her ideals when she still had a family, money, a roof over her head, four meals a day, people who loved her, protected her, respected her. Han gets it. It's even kind of their duty to fight for justice, freedom, and all that shit for everyone. That's just fine. But he, and people like him, they got to eat. He's not in this for the revolution. He's certainly not in this for the princess who, feisty as she might be, is also ungrateful and rude for someone whose ass he just saved. He did it for the money, which by the way is what he needs to save his own ass. And even if he didn't? He'd still look for number one.

III.

In matters of life and death, he prefers to be on the "life" side. That means he can't go risking his neck for people he doesn't even know, doesn't even care about. Is that so wrong? Ain't nobody looking after him—well, except for Chewie. Chewie now, Dewlanna then. Seems like only Wookiees ever cared about whether Han lived or died. His mother, too, but that was too long ago to count. Why does it make him a mercenary, to take care of himself? Somebody has to. People act like they're owed a rescue or something. And Han, fuck it, he always ends up giving in. Can't afford to throw away a potential reward, after all.

IV.

She likes him because he's a scoundrel, and she's probably spent most of her life being courted by well-mannered lords with too much perfume and too little passion. Oh, she soon proved him she isn't naive or inexperienced, but she's been busy and grieving for far too long. People respect her as a leader, but they're too careful around her sometimes. None of them offer her freedom. None of them challenge her. None of them shove their impropriety on her face. So she likes him because he's new and wild and freeing, and she doesn't need to tie her fate down to his. He's making sure of that. That is all. And that's fine.

V.

He has everything under control. He has to throw out Jabba's spice, but he'll make it up to the Hutt. He has to take the trip to Alderaan and, after he gets stuck inside an Imperial superweapon, help get everyone out safely, even though he doesn't really give a shit about those people, but he'll get away with his hard-earned money in the end. He has to come back to help the kid take out the Death Star, but after that, no more distractions. He has to stay for three and a half years with the rebels, because he just knows they won't make it without him, knows he can use the money, knows Luke and Leia are too reckless to stay out of trouble, his debt and Jabba's anger piling up on him, but still, everything under control. He has to go out for Luke, has to come back for Leia, nearly dies both times and more—but he doesn't, because he knows what he's doing. He has to fly through an asteroid field. Has to crawl to an old friend-slash-enemy for help. Has to fall in love with a princess even though he has nothing to offer her. Everything is under control until it isn't—but that's not his fault.

VI.

Someone who loves you, she says when she pulls him back from that thick, inescapable darkness and into her arms. As he trembles, retches and stumbles, as they take Leia away and lock him up and he finds out from Chewie that all their lives depend on the man who betrayed them and the friend who apparently calls himself a Jedi now, Han realizes he has nothing under control, and maybe some things have been his own fault. He doesn't like to know the odds, but he knows they're probably high against them.

Somehow, they escape unharmed, killing Jabba and all his goons, and that's when it dawns on Han that all these people risked their lives for him. Turns out there's more than just Chewie who care about him now. Love him, even. Luke and Leia, they'd risk their lives for just about anyone, he knows. They're not like him, they fight because it's the right thing to do, not because there's a credit chip at the end line or an underdog to save. Han used to do what he had to, or almost, to survive, but look where that got him.

Still, that's not why they came back for him: in the great balance of things, he's just one person. If it was just selflessness and justice, they would have stuck with the Alliance instead of putting their necks on the line for him. No, they came because they care. Leia came because she loves him.

Han grudgingly accepts there might be some truth to the Force. They wouldn't be alive otherwise. It's not a comfortable thought to find himself powerless to the whims of a bigger cosmic force—but maybe that's just not what it means. Or maybe he doesn't care anymore. It's not like he could stop it. And anyway, just because things worked out this time doesn't mean his luck won't run out one day, or that people all over the galaxy aren't being screwed over by these mighty powers that be. But there's gotta be something that led him here, to the arms of the woman he loves, to the carbonite, to Cloud City, to Hoth, to Yavin IV, to the Death Star, to Chalmun's Cantina. To these fools who care about him against all odds. Something like fate pushing him in the right direction. He's risked his life for them many times, too, but he always kept a foot out, just in case.

That ends now. He's not leaving again. And if he's staying, he might as well fight to make sure they—and everyone else—get a galaxy worth living in. It's time to be a bit of an idealist again.

[greyias]

Last time on our Knightly Stream…

The J-Team set out to make good on their promise to save the galaxy from endless generational war by giving an ancient Dark Side Eldrith being a stern talking to. It went about as well as anyone in touch with reality would expect.

Tabbed quote "Hubris. Thy name is Jedi."

After a quick costume change, we witnessed one of the more subtle but heartbreaking cutscenes in the game.

With a little help from our Guardian Angel Jedi Ghost, our little cinnamon roll was finally awakened from being an evil puppet, and then proceeded to wow everyone with her acting ability.

“I am definitely a Sith. See these spikes instead of shoulderpads? They make me 500% fiercer and confirm I am evil. Oh so evil. Now, if you’ll be so kind, please direct me to the nearest exit.”

And made a daring escape with the help of a new ally

He, uh. Doesn't mess around. I'm sure they're... sleeping. Yeah.

One more costume change later, she and Scourge head in to to talk to the Jedi Council.

It's revealed that the events of just about everything is part of a giant convoluted plan for the Emperor (aka Vitiate) to devour everyone in the galaxy's life force. Sort of like an incorporeal evil space vacuum.

Pictured: Darth Hoover

Then it's off to Belsavis! Which as the plot slowly reveals, is possibly one of the Republic's worst ideas yet. And considering they hired an undercover Sith as their lead scientist, and proceeded to construct a weapon capable of frying a planet from orbit, is saying something. Also, there was one last costume change. And maaaaybe a change to a new set of weapons that are definitely not stained with the blood of innocents that's I'm totally sure the game wasn't subtly implying we may have been responsible for while under Vitiate's thrall.

(Look, she's going through an existential crisis. It tends to be hard on the warddrobe.)

On Belsavis we meet SecondBest!Cactus, also known as Pak. He's only Second Best because I already named Jomar the Best!Cactus and to go back on that now would just be confusing. And I couldn't come up with a better title for him. Pak's eyeliner is on point.

We encounter Vitiate's death cult, full of really well-adjusted individuals who are convinced that this suicidal plan of theirs to self-destruct Belsavis's core will get them into a Vitiate-sponsored afterlife. "The Force doesn't work that way!" we try to explain to no avail.

The Knight does seem to go head-to-head with death cults a lot, don't they? Maybe I should start a Death Cult counter.

For the rest of Belsavis, I proceed to make Scourge rethink all of his major life decisions and the wisdom of selling his soul to play a 300-year long con on the Emperor as he has to follow around a stubborn Jedi Knight who refuses to let one single kitten stuck in a tree go unsaved and blissfully ignores the literal ticking time bomb on the planet.

Don’t give me that look. You had three hundred years to change your mind about this. You knew what you were getting into.

Finally, after saving a bunch of scientists, disarming some lava bombs (as you do), and a whole host of other distractions, we finally face off with our lead death cultist

Some MORE bomb disarmament later, Belsavis and the surrounding planets are saved from cataclysmic destruction. And we get Pak his job back. Huzzah! But there's no time to rest, for this is the Knight's Chapter 3 storyline where the galaxy is on fire and we're trying to put it out without collapsing into a tiny Jedi ball composed of stress and anxiety. So it's off to a mysterious Imperial outpost to go save the Best!Cactus from some pickle he's gotten into.

We learn that Leeha and Jomar were having an affair. Kira doesn't seem very shocked. Little Miss Perfect has matured a little since her Tython days, and decides that maybe tattling on every single Jedi she catches having a romance is bad karma or something, and after breaking Leeha free from being a Thrall, sends the traumatized lovebirds on their way.

And then it's off to beautiful Voss, the land of eternal autumn. We meet a very tol pretty lady, Tala Reh, who is really into poetry. We have to team up with her to find a missing Mystic.

The first spot we look for the missing Mystic all we find are a bunch of Sith who are REALLY out of sorts. In that they're fairly convinced we’re really into vore and really won't listen to reason.

We head to the Shrine of Healing. Again, people are fairly violent and not really willing to believe we have no intention of consuming their entrails an oddly specific detail. Not that it stops our cinnamon roll from trying to talk everyone down from murder. (Look, she's TRYNG!)

After a minor but successful heist where we face off with a giant telepathic vorantikus (I mean, so cliched right?), we head into the Dark Heart of Voss, and face off with the eeeeeevil Lord Fulminiss. Who's a little confused at our presence, and very annoyed at the Mystic he kidnapped because how dare he leave a trail for rescuers to follow?

Those darn kidnapping victims. Always trying to escape or have someone come rescue them. So ungrateful!

The Mystic reveals that he had a vision about all of this, and he's just been doing what was necessary to help it come to pass. He says our newest and tallest bestie has to sacrifice herself to this really dark hole because. Um. Destiny. Neither of them listen to reason. I'm sensing a pattern here.

Today we head through the Voss planetary arc (for reasons), and if there's time after that maybe we'll head to Corellia.

Time to see what other mysteries Voss has for our intrepid hero. Going live now! – https://www.twitch.tv/greyias

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