#‘Aren’t you pissed the resistance is working with Hutts

[theology101]

My biggest wish for Episode 9 was that we’d see Kylo’s Empire and it like… wouldn’t be terrible.

He doesn’t have many ships, what he has is the initiative and more concentrated firepower. For the First Order to hold territory, it would have to make concessions, alliances and agreements, as well as establishing Galactic Policy. The First Order is far too small to rule with an Iron Fist everywhere, so it in basic political terms, it must allow some consent of governance if they even want to rule.

In my mind, with the Resistance reduced to a handful, Kylo Ren would focus on abolition. He’s the son of the Huttslayer and grandson of a Slave who’s in love with a different former slave. For a Fascist State, they always require an enemy and frankly? The Hutts are a perfect one for a Fascist nation.

The Enemy is both Strong and Weak? Check. They’re fundamentally other and also infiltrators? Check. Allows for a black and white world view? Double Check.

It’s a pure propaganda move. Kylo Ren (while keeping Star Destroyers over orbit of important systems) sends the fleet and the PDFs to attack Hutt Space while he cements his leadership with political reforms (establishing a system of Moffs to lessen Hux’s political power would be key, and I would try to pick natives to the sectors) and genuineky acting on Leia’s beliefs.

Time and time again, she got held up in committee or debate. The positive changes she wanted to make were stopped by beuracracy. Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader - id he says “Free the Slaves,” they’re free.

This also would’ve put the Resistance in a bind. Accept the support of the incredibly powerful and rich Hutt Cartels, or stay true to their morals and principles? Leia in Legends worked with the Hutts, so if her Canon counterpart did, how would Rey react?

Idk, could’ve been interesting

[gmariam19]

Hello! I hit one of those follower milestones that we all like to grin about - thank you! I decided to share something to go with the last moodboard I posted, a story I started ages ago but that stalled out at chapter five. The opening is below, and I'm hoping I can get it going again and post it sometime this fall. I'm sure a few details will change, and I do hope to finish some shorter stories before then. But in the meantime, I hope you enjoy it - thanks for reading! :)

One

Poe already misses the ranch.

It’s been months since he's been home, seen his dad, even had a day off. Spending five days on Yavin 4 is exactly what he needed. He feels relaxed and recharged, ready to resume the job of co-General. He's fairly sure he's gained weight from all the eating and drinking they did, but that was what home was for him: koyo fruit and dark caf, roasted runyip steaks with kibla greens and sweetsand cookies for dessert. He hasn't eaten so well for months, maybe years.

Finn looks fairly content as well. Poe had been nervous about the trip, but it was past time to introduce Finn to Kes Dameron. Poe couldn't remember the last time he'd brought someone home, and he'd been a wreck until the moment his father had stepped forward, raised an eyebrow at Finn's outstretched hand, and pulled him into a tight embrace. Kes's eyes had been bright, and Poe had almost choked up; Finn had been stunned at the warm welcome.

Everything had been perfect after that. In fact, maybe a little too good as Poe had been ganged up on more than once by Finn and his father. But to watch them together, talking, laughing, even cooking (though Finn was a disaster of a cook, so he usually ended up doing the washing) was a joy. It made Poe want a life like that more than anything—a quiet life with someone he loved, near friends and family. It was what peace looked like.

Of course, he would probably be bored after a month, but he could still think about it, couldn't he?

For now, there is still work to do, and part of Poe's plan in flying out to see his dad had been to make a few stops on the way back. The first is Torque, a quick jump from Yavin 4. It isn't the nicest spaceport in the sector, but it's the capital and it’s busy, which means they can blend in and listen, get a feel for what’s going on outside their immediate circle. Finn is meeting with one of Vi Moradi's people to exchange news, someone he'd met on Batuu who happened to be passing through the sector, while Poe is meeting with one of Grakkus the Hutt's pilots for a brief, off-the-record meeting on conditions in Hutt space.

Poe walks to a cantina not far from the landing pads on his own, his senses on high alert. He's in a dingy spaceport in the Outer Rim, a general of the Resistance who still has a large bounty on his head. Armed and aware, he notices immediately when he turns that the street he's on—more of an alley, really—is unusually quiet and empty. Perfect setup for an ambush.

He comms Finn. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he says as quietly as he can. "Good chance someone knows we’re here. Stay alert." Finn confirms the message. Poe unhooks his blaster, speeding up his pace. As he reaches the end of the alley, he senses a presence behind him, and feels a blaster in his back.

"Don't move," says a low voice, a familiar voice.

"Finn?" asks Poe. "What're you—"

The blaster pokes him hard in the ribs, so definitely not Finn (and they don't really play like that in public, anyway.) Poe glances over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of a tall, dark-skinned man, a bounty hunter by the looks of him, though he is close in size to Finn and certainly sounds similar.

"Hands up, blaster to me, then turn around slowly."

Poe raises both hands, discreetly tapping his comm twice as he does, and the hunter takes his blaster. Poe turns and finds himself facing his captor. He's dressed in a black flight suit, with a leather vest and boots lined in red, and he’s armed to the teeth. He's only an inch or two taller than Poe but almost two decades older, short hair and beard shot with grey and a prominent scar running from his temple to his jaw on his right side. He seems familiar, though Poe is almost certain they’ve never met before. Strangely enough, what stands out most are the man’s eyes: tired brown eyes that do not look like the cold, hard eyes of most bounty hunters Poe has met.

The man looks at him with a frown.

"What, not what you expected?" Poe asks. "I get that a lot. It's the hair."

The bounty hunter shakes his head as he pats Poe down, taking his second blaster and a knife. "It's the hair that makes you so recognizable, General," the man says. His voice really does sound like Finn, and his eyes…Poe shakes off the idea. "Maybe if you cut it, half a dozen hunters would stop looking for you."

"Only half a dozen?" Poe asks. "How disappointing. I remember when I was on top of everyone's list."

"Sorry, General," the man says, and there is a wry smile with the strangely apologetic words. "Peace is not as good for business."

"Maybe you need a new business," Poe suggests. He has a funny feeling about this grizzled bounty hunter, as if the man before him is nothing like the image he projects. He doesn't want to hurt this man but talk him out of whatever he’s got planned. Or at least talk long enough for Finn to get there.

"You're actually my last job," the man says, almost conversationally. "There's still people willing to pay good money for your head." He takes out a pair of binders and motions at Poe to lower his wrists. Poe leaves his hands up.

"What if I paid you more?" he asks, lowering his voice and moving closer. "And then we forget this ever happened?" He smiles, turning on the charm, but the man snorts at him, so much like Finn that it’s eerie.

"Lower your arms, General. You can't afford me."

Poe shrugs. "It was worth a try." He slowly lowers his wrists, taking another step closer. Just as the hunter is about to clamp them, he headbutts the older man, sliding a pocket blaster into his palm as he steps back and hits the man with a glancing blow in the arm. The hunter recovers quickly, though, and blasts him in the chest, sending Poe flying backward and into the side of the nearest building. He rolls over and groans, thankful it wasn't set to full stun—or kill. This hunter is even more unusual than Poe thought. The man stands over him and is about to speak when Poe hears the click of a blaster behind them.

"Drop it," says Finn. The hunter turns and shoots so fast Poe barely has a chance to shout a warning. But Finn has good instincts too: he ducks and pulls the blaster from the hunter's hands with his newest Force skill. The hunter looks at his gloved hand in surprise before he tries again with a second weapon, and Finn again slams it aside with the Force.

"I could do this all day," Finn says.

The hunter raises an eyebrow. "Then let’s forget the weapons." He charges Finn with raises fists and they start fighting hand to hand.

Poe drags himself to his hands and knees and slowly stands against the wall, hugging his right side with one hand and wiping blood from a cut on his temple with the other. He hit the building hard and will probably have some colorful bruises soon. He watches the fight for a moment as he recovers from the stun bolt: two highly skilled men, one much older than the other, yet still strong. Poe has the odd thought that it's a bit like watching Finn fight himself in thirty years.

It does not take long, however, for Finn to gain the upper hand and pin the man down, call a blaster to his hand, and press it to the man's neck.

"Yield!" he demands. The hunter got in a good hit and Finn's lip is bleeding, and he's clearly pissed off about it.

"Get off me!" the hunter snarls. "I yield."

"Finn," Poe calls, and tosses him the fallen binders. Finn clamps them behind the man's back and hauls the hunter to his feet.

"Who are you?" Finn demands, but the man looks away. Poe finally figures it out—the clothing, the scar, the stories, and he walks over, moving slowly and still holding his side.

"You're Tenga Idoma, aren't you?" he asks. "I've heard of you, didn't think you worked this side of the galaxy."

"A hunter goes where the bounty goes." The bounty hunter is standing tall and proud, a bruise forming on his left jaw, the wound on his arm small but red and raw.

"I'm the bounty," Poe stage-whispers to Finn, who rolls his eyes.

"Oh, you are both wanted men," Idoma says, laughing bitterly. "I figured I couldn't take you together, so I flipped a chip on who to follow first. I didn't think I'd get my ass handed to me by a former trooper if I followed the pilot."

Poe takes a step forward—always his instinctive response when someone refers to Finn as a Stormtrooper—but Finn stops him with a hand on Poe's arm. He's looking at the man curiously.

"Are you a former trooper, too?" Finn asks.

"I neverserved the First Order." The man spits in the street, so vehemently angry it earns a look of surprise from Finn. "They took everything from me."

"Then why are you tracking us down?" Poe asks. "We're fighting to make sure they don't ever do it again, you know."

The man shakes his head. "I told you, this is my last job. Then I'm done."

Finn looks to Poe with a shrug. "What should we do with him?" he asks.

Poe looks at the man, then back at Finn. The resemblance is almost uncanny. Something—his own instincts, or maybe the Force—prompts him to say, "Bring him with us." He turns to the bounty hunter. "You're under arrest."

"You can't arrest me!" Idoma exclaims, and struggles in his binders, grimacing with pain, but Finn holds tight.

"I'm a general, sure I can," says Poe. Which is not strictly true, but he needs more time with this man.

"What are we going to do with him?" Finn asks. "Why don't we turn him in to the authorities here?"

Poe thinks about what to say, how to say it. "I have some more questions for him," he says. "Come on, let's head back to the Falcon."

Finn looks both skeptical and curious as he comms Vi Moradi's man and explains the situation. Poe calls the pilot he was supposed to meet. The hunter moves reluctantly but does not put up a fight. It feels strange to be taking him in so easily, and Poe can’t help but wonder why—or if something is about to go massively wrong. He tries not to think about who Tenga Idoma might really be, but he can’t help but wonder about that as well.

[starwarsbookshelf]

Cultural Values: Plan of Attack

Put quite bluntly, Ryloth is full of things that if you attack head-on, you will die. Full Stop, do not pass Go, do not collect 200 credits. Just about everything on Ryloth is significantly larger than you, heavier than you, has more teeth and claws than you, and six times out of ten it produces more natural toxins than you do.

Then come the Hutts. You can fight the Hutts. The thing is, the Hutts prefer to stand back and hire a bunch of heavily armed, very mean sentients to do their fighting for them. And they will keep on doing so for as long as it takes. So you aren’t actually fighting the Hutts, you are fighting a never ending stream of mercenary armies and professional killers. So no, you actually can’t fight the Hutts. (Until you do fight the Hutts again approximately a thousand years later; it works this time, and you chase them off planet, but that isn’t immediately relevant.)

You exist in a galaxy that, for the most part, is bigger than you, has more tech than you, and really doesn’t care about you other than what they can get from you. A lot of you are slaves in this galaxy.

So how do you survive?

By being the sneakiest, most backstabbing people you can possibly be. But you don’t stab each other in the back. That’s bad. No need to do the Hutts’ work for them. And don’t stab friendlies in the back. Only stab people in the back who deserve it. It’s a last resort. If you just manipulate people you can still be friends and/or allies, and you make a lot fewer people angry, especially because they don’t usually realize they are being manipulated. Twi’leks are just a bunch of pretty faces and fantastic humanoid bodies after all.

This is not to say that the Rylyn are a bunch of manipulative, lying jerks that you can’t trust as far as you can throw. They actually do hold very strongly to being honest and open with your family and friends and as many people as you realistically and safely can. (Lying to your family/clan is an ultimate shame on you and your family.) It is saying that if there is a choice between direct confrontation and coming at it from an angle, they will always choose to jump off the rooftops onto your face at midnight rather than walk up to you in broad daylight and challenge you to single combat.

Low war over high war. (The Twi’leks are fantastic at guerrilla warfare. And passive-aggressive resistance; if you are ever rooming with a Twi’lek, don’t piss them off, you will never sleep easy again.) They have a long history of espionage.

As a cultural generalization, the Rylyn in specific and the Twi’leks in general prize mental acuity over physical superiority, which isn’t to say that they don’t value physical ability, it just comes in a close second. There are a lot of Twi’lek involved in Galactic Law practice. And that isn’t an easy field to go into because, as said above, no one takes you seriously. (Until you’ve fleeced them for everything they own and landed them with your bill.)

Being a lawyer is a much more respectable career choice than being a warrior.

Vendors and Shopkeepers in marketplaces galaxy-wide dread the approach of the Twi’lek housewife because even the most veteran haggler has no chance against this unstoppable force, and heaven forbid she brings her mother or grandmother with her!

Negotiation is a skill that earns you a lot of respect among the Rylyn. Especially negotiation where the result is as fair as it can possibly be to all parties involved. Unless slavers are involved. Take them for everything they’ve got.

To use the language of Avatar: the Last Airbender, Twi’leks are waterbenders. (Which means that when they do decide to stop avoiding confrontation and hit you with everything both they and you have…you are deader than dead.)