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the-delta-42 · 21 days

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Fall of Order 1

Order 66

Marinette twitched as her master spoke with the Mandalorians in front of them. The butterfly symbol of Clan Agreste glared down at them.

“Do you think the General’s going to be able to come up with a plan if those Mando’s keep glaring at him?” Whispered Commander Frost, leaning close to Marinette.

“I hope so,” responded the Padawan, “Jedi and Mandalorians don’t have the best history with each other.”

“You can say that again.” Grumbled Sneak, frowning behind his helmet.

“Count Agreste,” Said Master Fu, sighing, “I will inform you as soon as I’ve finished surveying the field, there is no need to stand over me and watch.”

Gabriel only glared and folded his arms. Marinette heard Frost’s comm start beeping, which stopped when the Clone answered it.

“Commander Frost,” Came the Voice of Chancellor Palpatine, “Execute Order 66.”

Marinette felt the force go cold, before a stabbing pain reached her. Marinette was so overcome by it; she didn’t notice the Clones aiming at her and her Master.

“Marinette!” Yelled Fu, his lightsaber springing to life as he deflected the first few shots.

Marinette shook her head and regained her senses, her blue blade joining her master’s green. Shots soared over their shoulders as the Mandalorians opened fire on the Clones. A shot suddenly hit her master in the shoulder, another hitting him in the middle of his chest and a final one hit his head, sending the Jedi master to the floor, dead.

Marinette saw red and summoned her master’s lightsaber and launched herself at the remaining Clones. Commander Frost’s head fell from his shoulders and Sneak’s arm hit the floor as the two blades pierced his chest. Marinette looked around; the remains of the clones lied scattered across the room. Marinette turned to her master’s corpse and fell to her knees.

“Traitorous lab experiments.” Snarled one of the Mandalorians, while the countess crossed the room and grabbed Marinette’s arm before hauling her to her feet.

“You can’t stay here,” Said Emilie, as Marinette struggled, “You yourself said that you only brought a small group with you.”

Marinette stopped struggling, allowing Emilie to pull her out of the room and towards a speeder. Soon, the Mandalorians and the Padawan were leaving the area as fast as they could.

“Clan Tsurugi should be waiting at the rendezvous,” Said Gabriel, frowning at a data pad, “I remember them saying that they had something called the ‘Padawan Pack’ with them.”

Marinette vaguely registered what he said, Nino and Alya were part of the Pack, Luka and Zoe were out scouting with a couple clones. The speeder came to a stop, Marinette was guided out of the speeder. A couple Mandalorians glanced at her, before pointing Emilie in the direction of a tent. Alya tackled Marinette as soon as she saw her, Nino was nursing a blaster wound on his arm and Luka and Zoe’s remains were under a sheet in the back of the tent.

“They just started shooting at us.” Whispered Alya, tightly gripping Marinette, “They killed Luka and Zoe when they came back from patrol. I don’t understand, they were our allies.”

Marinette didn’t say anything as three Mandalorian teens listened in on the conversation.

“I heard the Chancellor tell them to execute order 66.” Said Marinette, breaking her silence.

“What’s that?” Asked Nino, summoning his lightsabre to him.

“I don’t know,” Answered Marinette, “but the Clones know, we can try with them.”

“Provided they don’t try and shoot us first.” Mused Alya, “We’d need to capture a scout, lure it out and probe it’s mind.”

Marinette folded her arms, before glancing around, “Do you know where they are?”

“No.” Said Nino, “Even if we did, we have no way of containing them.”

“You could just ask.” Said a voice, making Marinette spin around and ignite her lightsaber.

The Mandalorian stared at Marinette through his helmet. There were two girls flanking him, before Marinette extinguished her lightsaber.

“Okay, where can we find them?” Asked Marinette, placing her hands on her hips.

“They’re camped out in a valley a couple of klicks from here.” Said the Mandalorian, “But, they have some force user with them.”

Marinette frowned, before she made to leave the tent. The Mandalorian stopped her, “It’s not safe.”

Marinette glared at him, before flinging her arms out and using the force to throw him and his friends back. One of the Mandalorian girls helmet came off. Kagami glared at the Jedi, before aiming one of her blasters at her back and firing.

Marinette deflected the shot back at them, with Nino intercepting it and sending it to the ground. Alya took off after Marinette, while Nino set about helping the Mandalorians to their feet.

“What was that?” Asked the boy, taking his helmet off.

“When a Padawan loses their master, they’re prone to fits of irrational behaviour,” Explained Nino, “In Marinette’s case, a desire for revenge.”

The Mandalorian’s eyes narrowed, “What does that mean?”

“It means Marinette need time to calm down.” Responded Nino, “Marinette’s been training longer than any of us, she’ll be able to handle herself.”

FOO

Marinette ducked behind a tree, immediately spotting the clones, as well as the ‘force user’ the Mandalorians had spotted. She’d managed to give Alya the slip before coming here. Marinette absently reached for her master’s lightsaber, only for her hand to grab empty air. She quickly looked around her, hoping to spot the weapon, only to find nothing.

Marinette bit back a groan, before the force gave her a warning to duck. A red lightsaber sailed over her, narrowly missing her head. The blade returned to the force user’s hand. A black mask covering her face.

“Hey.” Waved Marinette, silently cursing herself for not noticing them approach.

The force user didn’t respond, they only swung the blade at Marinette again. Marinette ducked and ignited her saber, blocking the blow and striking back at them. Marinette quickly noticed another lightsaber on the force user’s belt. Steeling herself, Marinette summoned the lightsaber, before using the force to knock down all the trees surrounding them.

The force user was knocked back and Marinette grabbed the force user’s lightsaber and fled into the night.

The Inquisitor cursed, she’d hoped to get the drop on Dupain-Cheng, not have her legs crushed. The Twelfth Sister lifted the tree from her legs, before dragging herself back to the camp, livid that she didn’t think to attach a tracking device to the lightsaber or Jedi.

FOO

Alya nervously sat in a tent full of Mandalorians.

“So…” Alya glanced to the Mandalorian boy, “what are we going to do? Are we just gonna wait for Marinette to come back or…”

Kagami glared at the Jedi, Adrien giving her a warning look to prevent her from lashing out, “I suppose.”

Nino suddenly rocked forwards, before a lump impacted the side of the tent.

“That was quick.” Remarked Adrien, before Marinette wriggled under side of the tent.

“You okay, M?” Asked Alya, before noticing the two extra lightsabers, “Where’d you get those?”

“A force user with the Clones.” Responded Marinette, looking at the Mandalorians.

“Are they dead?” Asked Gabriel, glaring at the girl.

“No, but their legs were crushed,” Replied Marinette, “you may want to plant some more trees to replace the ones I knocked down.”

Marinette was fiddling with the Lightsaber with the strange hand guard, when it suddenly snapped into a full circle. Marinette frowned, before igniting the lightsaber, the red blades illuminating her face. Completely oblivious to the shocked looks around her, she pressed another button and made the blades spin around the circle surrounding the hilt.

Marinette shut the lightsaber off and tossed it to the side.

“Okay, I’ll say it,” Said Adrien, staring at Marinette with wide eyes, “that was cool.”

FOO

Marinette stared down at the braid in her hand, before dropping it in a box next to the lightsabers. The Mandalorians had decided to keep Marinette, Alya and Nino with them, if only to get the drop on the Empire. The three Mandalorian teens that’d spoken to them had introduced themselves to them. The blond boy with green eyes was Adrien, Marinette didn’t like how her heart fluttered slightly, the girl with black hair and amber eyes was Kagami, who introduced herself as Adrien’s betrothed, and the last one, after removing her helmet, had blonde hair and blue eyes and had given her name as Chloe. Marinette found a resemblance to Zoe in her features.

“So,” Said Adrien, making Marinette look at him, “We’re going to take the long way home, to try and lose any followers.”

Marinette nodded, before snapping the lid of the box shut and handing it to Adrien.

“Since your father will probably want them.”

Adrien nodded and put the box behind him, “I’m sorry about Kagami.”

“Are you speaking as her friend or her husband?”

Adrien choked on his own breath, “As her friend, I, I don’t actually see her as anything else, really.”

“Then why didn’t you correct her, or are you afraid of her reaction?” Marinette quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to hurt her.” Justified Adrien, “Besides, neither of us have a say in the matter.”

“Hmm.”

Marinette picked up a small bag, “I’m surprised your parents want to keep Jetii near him, even if it’s just for the element of surprise.”

“I don’t understand it either,” Confessed Adrien, “but where’d you go if he hadn’t?”

“Probably to Coruscant and getting myself killed in the process.”

Adrien and Marinette stood in an awkward silence, before Adrien coughed and cleared his throat, “W-we should probably go to the others, um, you know, if we’re done here.”

Marinette nodded and followed after him, casting a last look at the comm-link she was leaving behind.

Outside the tent, Kagami glared at the fabric, unsure if she should be angry at Adrien or the Jetii. Shoving her helmet on, Kagami went to join the others.

FOO

Nathalie frowned, before ducking out of the way of a Clone patrol. She’d managed to escape the Jedi Temple thanks to a collapsing walkway, which allowed her and a few others to escape. Nathalie looked over at Caline, the Jedi Knight had already taken it upon herself to modify all their looks, so they wouldn’t be recognisable. Alix and Lila had quietly agreed to put a pause on their ‘rivalry’ until they were somewhere safe.

“We’ll need to be careful,” Muttered D’Argencourt, “The Clones don’t appear to be actively looking for us.”

The three Jedi and two apprentices quickly and quietly made their way to a transport and smuggled themselves on.

“Remember, we’re heading to Mandalore.” Murmured Nathalie, looking at the other Jedi, “May the Force be with you.”

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brooklynislandgirl · 3 months

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The Dreaming Tree || Melakeni Ivers {Skywalker}

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? As she passes through the room there's a faint ghost of something vital that lingers; the memory of a flower you have never breathed in, the sun rising over rich loam in the deep woods from a world you never grew up on, the tang of honey and blood on the back of your tongue. Clean soap. Pressed herbs. Rain shivering across a deep, still lake. You ache when she...when it... is gone but you can't tell yourself why.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? Something so small should not feel so soft. So strong. Not when they are soaked through with the blood of others, or with her own. They should not feel so warm and welcoming when she rests them on your arm and tells you that you must carry on, the Force will guide you. Worst of all perhaps is the way they feel from half way across the galaxy caressing your cheek or perhaps choking the life out of you courtesy of your own failure and stupidity. She feels like a dream, except she is often still there when you wake up.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY? Like everything else on her home-world, Melakeni is a carnivore, and she may tease about being a cannibal. Sometimes, it doesn't feel like she's joking. Waste not, want not after all. The truth is that she is accustomed to eating whatever is provided to her. {{And in extreme circumstances, she can go three months without food so long as there is sunlight.}}

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? Melakeni's voice is a gentle thing, hardly more than a whisper. Smooth and smokey as Corellian whiskey, and in certain circumstances, with twice the bite. She would tell you that she doesn't sing. That she remembers no songs. Maybe no one has listened. Maybe she doesn't have anything to sing about, any more.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS? Melakeni's brilliant emerald green stare has its own luminescence to it. It is unwavering, cold as the void of space or molten as the fires of Mustafar depending on her perhaps fickle moods. She has an innumerable amount of superstitions from her home-world. When she blushes, her skin holds a hint of green. Keni is almost never seen after dark. Her worst habit however is how she has come to view most other people as children.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR? Once she wore the robes of the Jedi. Healer's scrubs, consular niceties.Later she was forced into soldier's armour. Then she was locked into leather and steel. At times when she danced at the end of the former Emperor's chains, she wore the lavish and skin bearing gowns of her home-world. Now a days she wears simple, rugged things. Long story short? She wears what she pleases, and if it upsets you, cast your eyes away before she removes them for you.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO? Once she was so full of light and love and offered that freely. Now you're lucky to escape her patience with all your limbs attached. She does, however, dote her affection on her hawkwasps, stroking their petals with surprisingly adoring fingertips, feeding them bloody chunks of meat without protective gloves, and careless of their venom.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN? Once, she slept curled up on her side, arms and knees folded into her chest, hand beneath her pillow clutching her lightsabre or her chini'hayak. She could sleep sitting up. She could sleep leaning against a bulkhead on a tramp freighter, or the command chair of her Imperial Destroyer, The Stalker. Melakeni no longer sleeps.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? No. And if you do hear her, you have to come to the realisation that most likely: A: You fucked up. B: It is the last think you're ever likely to hear. ~*~ tagged by: my darling @nightmarefuele tagging: Three droids and a Wookie

#The Dreaming Tree|Melakeni Ivers #Across the Universe|Star Wars AU

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redrascal1 · 2 years

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Years ago I read a series of books by author Simon R Green which were heavily inspired by Star Wars.

What interested me was the books continued the stories of the heroes after the war was won....and we discovered what happens to our heroes when the fighting was over.

And it was actually....very sad.

I mention this because in some ways, that is what happened with the sequel trilogy. Take away Abrams's tedious Mary Sue heroine ....and the ST was all about the destiny of the Skywalker twins and Han Solo.

And ultimately....it focused on the after effects of what happened to them. That they really were...three people who were permanently marked, psychologically and in Luke's case, physically, by their encounters with Darth Vader.

ALL of them suffered from PTSD....and sadly, their son suffered as a result of it.

The fact that Darth Vader turned out to be a blood relation to Luke and Leia, only made it worse. Look at the history. Vader tortured Leia and Han - in Leia's case, twice. They never got to see him as Anakin. Luke lost his hand and his aunt and uncle, to Darth Vader. As a result, although he redeemed his father and conquered his own dark impulses, there would always be the underlying fear that maybe one day, he or his sister would slip - and fall, as their father had fallen.

And then along came Ben, with his father's passionate nature....and his grandfather's power.

And quite suddenly...the stakes were very different.

Whenever Ben had a tantrum, instead of seeing it as normal childish behaviour, his parents, their judgement coloured by knowing who his grandfather was, saw it as the 'dark side.' Leia hid her fear by focusing on her political career. Han ran from it, and spent time with other kids, such as Greer Sollen and Poe Dameron. Then Ben, who in his bewilderment thought his parents didn't love him...was sent away...only cementing his feelings of being unwanted. Remember, he had no idea who his grandfather was. He was just a kid who didn't realise his family were emotionally scarred. And thus..perfect for manipulation by Snoke/Palpatine.

The last straw was when he thought his uncle was going to kill him...and tragically Luke impulsively reaching for his lightsabre was a manifestation of his own PTSD; not even a conscious decision.

I am so tired of antis ranting that the OT trio were 'demonised' by TLJ...when they were actually presented as human beings who understandably had been left traumatised by their own past. And I am also fed up of them being seen as 'perfect' when Han, Luke and Leia were anything but.

And it's why I loved them.

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mnmovdoom · 2 years

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*appears in a puff of smoke* It’s me, hello! For the writing prompts, how about 5 and 20 with whichever characters you wish?? ✨😌

*cracks knuckles, wipes happy tear away*

So, of course I went with Luke and Boba for the first because TATTOOS. I used my OCs Magda and Wolfram for the second, though.

5- Tattoo - when they reach a certain age, a tattoo shows up on their bodies that they have in common

For his thirteenth birthday, Luke got a tattoo: a rather intricate pattern of spirals and swirls and sharp angles that stretched over his collarbones.

Of course, he wouldn’t shut up about it and ran around asking his friends about their tattoos, to try and find out if he’d be so lucky to meet his soulmate already. When nobody proved to be a match, Luke had yet another reason to get off that Force-forsaken dustball of a planet.

“They might still be on Tatooine…” Uncle Owen used to say, not because he was particularly interested in Luke’s woes but because those vaporators wouldn’t fix themselves. “... maybe just not on Anchorhead.”

No, Luke knew that the person meant for him was somewhere out there. And once he was a pilot, he’d find out. He’d ask everyone about their tattoos until he’d find a match.

The longer he spent on Tatooine, the more anxious Luke got. He was wasting time and he knew it. The more he delayed finding his soulmate, the more chances for them to get killed without meeting Luke!

So, one of the first things Luke did when finding himself in the Rebellion was to ask around about everyone’s tattoos. None was a match…

On the bright side, Luke now had an X-Wing. And he was a Jedi! Or… desperately trying to be one. He could perfectly go his merry way to find his soulmate! Maybe they were on Coruscant. Yes, now it all made sense: Luke had to go to Coruscant to learn about the Jedi (the Empire would never suspect of its most wanted criminal strolling around their own capital, it’s brilliant) and there he’d also find his soulmate! Yes, the Force is screaming at him to do exactly this!

Or maybe, the Force was strongly advising him against going to Nar Shaddaa, because now his lightsabre was stolen and Luke cannot allow that. That’s the only thing he has left of his father and he won’t let anyone take it! He’s almost catching on to the thief, almost…!

And then some weirdo with a jetpack tackles him down and Luke finds himself pinned between a wall and a green suit of armour. He knows this armour. This is one of Jabba’s favourite bounty hunters!

“Your droid’s not here to make me trip, Skywalker…”

Oh kark, so it was Boba Fett beating Luke back in Old Ben’s place… Great, karking great. And Luke doesn’t even have his lightsabre! And oh, Fett has a codpiece, fan-karking-tastic! A kick to the shin still might do it, but instead of freedom, Luke just gains a hand grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall behind him. That knocks the air out of him, but not his consciousness - no, Luke is very aware of Fett standing there rigidly, still holding him up by the collar and staring.

Then Luke’s feet hit the ground suddenly and that maniac in armour, still with a handful of Luke’s shirt in his hand, tugs it down.

“Hey!”

“Where did you get that??” Fett growls, and for a moment, Luke wonders if he’s humanoid or a droid… or some alien.

“Get what??”

“That tattoo.”

“What tat-” Oh. Oh? Oh… Just when Luke thought that, at the tender age of nineteen, he’d gotten all the heartache and disappointment and loss to last him a lifetime… but maybe he can use this to his advantage? “Are you going to sell your soulmate to the Empire?”

“I will,” Fett growls. He probably has fangs under that helmet. Worth a shot. Now, Luke just needs to stop feeling disappointed and wronged beyond repair, so that he can come up with an escape plan.

One run-in with a Hutt, a daring theft (property recovery), a bunch of stormtroopers, and rival bounty hunters later, and Luke and Fett are joining efforts to blow up half the city to create a diversion big enough to allow them to escape. Which they narrowly do because there are incoming TIE fighters and panicked citizens and smugglers and scum taking off and clogging the atmosphere.

“You owe the Rebel Alliance one X-Wing…” Luke says dryly, crossing his arms petulantly where he sits, on the co-pilot’s seat. He likes Fett’s ship already, who’d say this battered little thing has so much firepower?

“Can’t wait to get rid of you and get my credits…” Fett grunts in return. That’s how he talks, he either growls or grunts. Maybe he really isn’t human. “You're a trouble magnet!”

It’s not Luke’s fault that the Empire is looking for him! Fine, it is… But these pirates? Totally not his fault. And Fett’s reckless piloting and resulting crash landing aren’t Luke’s fault either. Neither is Fett’s delicate pride when it comes to assuming Luke’s superior mechanic skills.

Fett’s at least human and is very angry, but it wasn’t Luke who crashed them in the middle of nowhere and broke his arm. And Fett also needs a mechanic. Urgently. Certainly, the Rebellion won’t mind that Luke gets a side job.

The tattoo spreading over Fett’s collarbones matches Luke’s perfectly.

20 - Danger alert - people can feel when their soulmate is in danger

The first few times Magda felt it, she dismissed it as concern, born of the friendship binding her and her favourite knight and triggered by the situations he found himself in - a tournament, a melee, a campaign in the marks. All perfectly logical circumstances to drill unease into Magda, have her on the lookout and see threats Wolfram failed to see.

It is during a hunt that Magda realises there might be more to it - namely, because Wolfram grabs the reins of her horse (he knows better than overstepping the boundaries Magda laid for him) instead of simply telling her to stop. Which is something Magda was about to tell Wolfram to do. Their horses - Magda’s hunter and Wolfram’s charger - seem undisturbed, and so do the hounds. This unease, however…

“We’re going back, Countess,” Wolfram commands, once again forgotten about who has the final word, but Magda will forgive him the distraction:

“Then return my reins to me, sir knight…” Her tone is dry, she collects her freed reins imperiously, and the way she turns her hunter around is as perfect as the volte-faces her knights execute in training.

(Later, sergeants and men-at-arms were sent to search the woods but found nothing. Magda never discovered what caused her and Wolfram such unease, yet she was perfectly content with having walked away with her favourite knight unscathed.)

While Magda could not fully understand what was this warning sense when it came to Wolfram, the episode during their failed hunt showed her it was something he felt, too. None of them questioned it.

Whatever bound they share becomes exceedingly bothersome, however, when Wolfram needs to lead the troops to the mark. That unsettling feeling of unease and the inability to see Wolfram, to see whatever is threatening him leave Magda sleepless. He is, after all, her best friend, her confidant, her champion, her standard-bearer. If only Magda were not so busy administering the land and exerting justice in court, she would ride out with Wolfram - his horrified face and excessive fretting over her well-being would most certainly be priceless.

Fortunately, Wolfram always comes back to her, sometimes just battered and bruised on the outside, other times more scarred both outside and inside. What matters is that he always returns, and once he is within the walls and Magda is holding the reins of his warhorse while he dismounts, the unease completely disappears.

As such, Magda is most outraged when, while taking a stroll with Wolfram around the bailey, she has that nagging, unsettling unease pooling in her stomach. She looks around, scowling, her long red braid whipping furiously at her back.

But then a mail-clad arm wraps around her waist and yanks her back, pressing her against a mail-clad chest just as stones rain down from the wall. There’s a loud groan, a crack, and now Magda is being pushed forwards with a yelp. She does hit the ground, but what makes her curse under her breath is the brute falling on top of her, both shielding her and smashing her.

There are running steps all around her, and fortunately Wolfram’s massive weight lifts off her and she’s pulled up by the arms:

“Sorry about that… Countess,” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, and when Magda scowls at him, he gives her a smile, showing his crooked, beast-like teeth. His black hair and black surcoat are covered in white dust.

Looking up, Magda sees that a chunk of the wall has fallen. Terrific… Servants are already cleaning up, squires have approached only to be swatted away by Wolfram.

“Did you feel it?” she asks quietly, dusting herself off. He nods slowly, his eyes never leaving the wall. Fortunately, nobody was on that section of the parapet walk.

Even more fortunately, Magda and Wolfram are soulmates.

#my writing #prompts #Luke Skywalker #Boba Fett #BobaLuke #starring OCs

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roman-writing · 3 years

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no great revelation (8/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 9.012

Summary: Jamie just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself caught up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

read it below or read it here on AO3

VIII.

—

Getting to the planet’s surface was the easy part. Jane was told to wait in orbit, while they boarded Rebecca’s ship and flew down. They were all crammed into the tiny cockpit of Rebecca’s ship, where without enough seats to go around most of them had to simply hang onto whatever fixture they could find and pray. Jamie herself had been relegated the space at the very front, which in the event of a crash would’ve sent her hurtling straight through the reinforced glass windows. The Republic military feed they had cottoned onto earlier barked at them down the line, demanding their authorisation codes or threatening swift retribution. Rebecca acted quickly, keying in a sequence on her ship’s dash and sending it off with an expert flourish.

“Calm down, Sergeant,” she said in a cool tone, and her voice was run through a modulator so that it sounded low and raspy. “This is shuttle hotel charlie two five niner with the Third Fleet. I’ve been called from logistics as backup.”

A crackle of static followed, then, “Hotel charlie two five niner, you’re earlier than expected. You’re cleared for landing. Please proceed with caution. Do not engage hostiles until the rest of your squad arrives. I repeat: do not engage.”

Rebecca hit the button to respond. “Copy. Hotel charlie two five niner.”

And without further ado she began the sequence for final descent.

“Well,” said Owen. “That was efficient.”

Rebecca did not look up from where she was guiding the ship to the surface when she replied in a distracted tone, “I’m very good at my job.”

“Clearly,” Hannah said.

When they got within a certain distance from the planet, Dani straightened from her place jammed into Jamie’s side and tried to peer through the glass. The mountains of Alderaan were jagged caps of blue and grey and white. A rather dramatic landscape, if Jamie were being honest; she was far more interested in the way Dani pressed up against her seemingly without meaning to do so.

They swooped around a mountain peak, the spear-point parapets of House Thul coming into view. Below, people scurried about the ground like insects shooting pinpricks of red blaster fire at one another. The air was filled with enough smoke that it was difficult to make them out, but when Jamie squinted she could just see that the main doors had been breached and the attackers were attempting to push their way inside.

The ship was pinged by someone on the ground, and Rebecca accepted the transmission.

“Unidentified spacecraft,” growled a voice down the comm in an Imperial accent, “state your allegiance and business immediately, or we will not hesitate to shoot you from the sky.”

This time when Rebecca replied, she did not modulate her voice through the computer, though her tone was just as calm as before. Perhaps with a bit more of a bite. Definitely with a smoother Imperial accent that would’ve fooled Jamie herself if she hadn’t known what Rebecca really sounded like. “Corporal, this is Tau Gamma Three. If you delay my landing on the eastern high ground, I will report you to my Rear Admiral for contempt.”

The corporal responded very quickly, “My apologies, Commander. Your transponder code has just been confirmed. Please proceed with all haste. I will personally greet you on the ground and act as your escort.”

“Copy. Tau Gamma Three,” Rebecca said, then took her finger off the transmission button and whispered in her usual accent, “Fuck.”

“Think you over cooked it that time,” Jamie said.

Rebecca gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Damn boot-licking Imps.”

She guided the ship towards where Dani had indicated earlier, landing in a rumble and jerk before cutting the engines and unstrapping herself from the captain’s chair so she could be the first down the gangway.

“Let me handle this,” Rebecca told them.

She smacked the button to lower the gangway to the ground, while outside three people in Imperial grey strode up the hill towards the ship. One, the corporal, had a single red tab of rank on his chest, while the other two bore plasma rifles and shiny black chest plates. Jamie, Hannah, Owen, and Dani all squeezed themselves into a corner of the cockpit so they could peer out the side of the ship and watch.

The corporal saluted as Rebecca walked down the gangway, his mouth moving but his words unintelligible from where Jamie and the others watched. If Rebecca responded, they could not hear her. Without breaking stride, Rebecca unholstered the pistol at her waist and fired three shots. The corporal and one of the infantrymen dropped to the ground. The remaining infantryman fell, but turned over and tried to crawl towards where he had dropped his firearm. Rebecca stalked forward, stepped on his hand, and shot him in the back.

He stopped moving. A hole through his chest cavity smoked gently.

Turning back towards the ship, Rebecca saw them all gawking at her from the cockpit, and gestured for them to come out.

“Where did you meet her again?” Owen asked in a slow, slightly awed voice.

“Nar Shaddaa,” said Jamie.

“Huh.” Owen nodded. “You know, I don’t think you’re cool enough to be her friend.”

Jamie stepped on his foot and glared.

Rebecca was re-holstering her blaster pistol when they all emerged from the ship. “I did my job,” she said, then gave a nod to Dani. “Where to next?”

Dani pointed towards a building complex about five hundred meters away. “This way.”

Jamie made a gesture for her to lead, and Dani started off in the direction she had indicated. They walked briskly, and every time Jamie heard another blast in the distance — some Imperial or guardsman of House Thul throwing firepower at one another on the ground below — she winced and quickened her step. It was nice to see she wasn’t the only one, until the five of them were rushing into the guard complex, slightly out of breath.

When they reached the shut doors, Dani placed her hand on a panel. It scanned her biosignature and flashed green before the doors opened with a hiss of pressurised air. They ducked inside, and Jamie breathed a sigh of relief when the sounds of fighting faded slightly through layers of metal.

“The checkpoint is just around the corner over -” Dani was saying as she led them further down a set of steps, but when she rounded the corner she froze.

Where before the entryway had been completely empty of people — signs of a great hurry evident, upended chairs and half eaten rations — now there was a single guardsman staring at them just down the hall. His face was white as a sheet, his livery of House Thul scuffed and scorched, and in his hands he clutched a blaster rifle, which he pointed at them.

“I don’t suppose you know him?” Owen asked in a low voice to Dani, who shook her head.

With raised hands, Jamie took a step forward and said, “We’re just here to -”

Before she could get more than a handful of syllables into a sentence however, the guard fired. Jamie flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, but the smell of acrid smoke and burning flesh never came. Instead there was only a strangely familiar buzzing sound. When she peeled open her eyes, one after the other, it was to find that Hannah had moved faster than the guard could pull the trigger. A dark scorch mark marred the floor beside her feet, and Hannah held the purple blade of her lightsabre extended at a perfect angle.

Hannah straightened, lowering her lightsabre but not sheathing the blade. The guard staggered back a step, hands trembling around his rifle.

He stared at them for a split second, and then fumbled for the comm unit strapped to his shoulder, pressing the transmit button. “This is Ardi in Post; I need -!”

Hannah waved her free hand, and his own hand suddenly wrenched away from the comm, both of his arms snapping to his side as though he were coming to attention. His wide panicked gaze dropped to his own arms, and he made a weak terrified noise when he could not move.

The comm at his shoulder crackled, and a voice said, “Come in, Ardi. What’s the problem?”

He opened his mouth, but Hannah spoke before he could do so much as squeak. Her voice was like a riptide, like a set of strings attached to a wooden frame. “You will not panic, and you will tell them nothing is wrong.”

The guardsman blinked at her, his eyes going fuzzy and unfocused, while his shoulders and jaw went strangely slack. Then his hand drifted up to the comm. He pushed the button and said in a flat tone, “Nothing is wrong.”

His hand dropped back to his side and he gazed blankly at Hannah for further instruction.

“You will go about your duty,” she said. “You did not see us.”

“I did not see you,” he mimicked in that same tone, then he strode forward, walking directly past them and continuing on his way. They turned to watch him go.

“Always creeps me out when you do that,” Jamie muttered.

Hannah sheathed her lightsabre, but kept the hilt at the ready. “Needs must. Miss Clayton, you were taking us inside?”

Dani snapped her mouth shut from where she had been gaping at the scene. “Oh,” she said, then started forward. “Right! Yes. We just need to go down this hall here.”

Thankfully, the next hall was completely empty. They jumped the barriers at the checkpoint and continued down another hallway leading to a set of armour-reinforced doors, which Dani opened with the press of her hand. The doors slid open, and suddenly they were face to face with a whole squad of Imperial soldiers.

Jamie didn’t know who was more shocked to see the other. Them. Or the Imperials. One member of the squad was kneeling down by the corner of the door, trying to hack his way through the system to get the doors open.

Jamie shot him, while at the same time Dani slammed her hand back down on the bioscanner to shut the doors before the Imperials could react.

“Right,” said Rebecca, who had also taken out her blaster pistol and was ready to fire at the next thing that moved. “Any other ways in?”

Dani shook her head.

“Front door?” Owen offered.

With a low groan, Jamie shifted her grip upon her blaster pistol and jerked her head at Owen and Hannah. “Knights up front.”

Sighing, Hannah and Owen nevertheless dutifully stepped forward and unsheathed their sabres, purple and blue blades between the two of them.

Dani hovered her hand over the bioscanner, but hadn’t unsheathed her own lightsabre. “Is this really the best idea?”

“Too late now,” Jamie grumbled.

“I told you,” said Rebecca.

“Shut it.”

“Open it,” Hannah said to Dani in an exasperated tone of voice.

Dani did so. All of the Imperials had retreated to find cover behind massive pillars and big statues that lined the great hall. The moment Jamie saw one of their stupid grey caps poking around a pillar, she took aim over Owen’s shoulder and fired. Bloody Imps fired back, and soon the air was filled with a volley of blaster fire ricocheting off stone pillars and archways, sending chips of stone spinning across the floor.

Hannah and Owen deflected anything coming their way with an almost lazy indifference, as though they were swatting a few pesky flies out of the sky. An Imperial soldier was hit by his own blaster fire and fell to the ground. Jamie nailed another one in the shoulder, and he swore loudly, crouching back behind cover.

Ducking down slightly, Rebecca nudged Hannah’s shoulder. “Can you two advance? Slowly?”

Owen nodded and the two of them walked forward in step with one another, deflecting incoming blaster fire as they went. Realising what was happening, the Imperial squadron began to panic. A handful tried to make a run for another pillar further along the hallway in an attempt to put ground between them and leaving behind a few of their injured peers in the process. Owen reached out his hand, made a pulling motion, and it were as though three of the fleeing soldiers were yanked back on wires. Hannah chucked her lightsabre — Jamie really couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to describe it apart from ‘chucked’ — and the blade went spinning forward through the air, slicing clean through the soldiers before returning straight to her hand in time for her to sweep aside another attack.

The only soldier left alive was the one Jamie had shot in the shoulder. He was pressing a hand to his wound, sitting on the ground with his legs sprawled and his back leaning against a pillar base. Rebecca rounded the pillar and cocked her blaster pistol.

“Please,” the soldier whimpered.

“Don’t try that shit with me,” Rebecca hissed. “I know what you do to POWs.”

When she raised her pistol as though to whip him with it, he flinched, but the blow never came. Hannah had reached out and the air seemed to solidify into a jelly that held back Rebecca’s arm.

“Miss Jessel,” said Hannah, “Forgive me, but I will not be complicit in the mistreatment of prisoners of war.”

The muscles stood out on Rebecca’s jaw, but she nodded and the sensation of being held underwater rushed from the air. Jamie felt at her own chest and cleared her throat.

“Is it safe to come out yet?” asked a distant voice.

With a frown Jamie turned to find that Dani had remained behind in the hallway, and her head was poking through the door, peering left and right for any sign of lingering danger. Jamie waved her over and Dani quickly crossed the room to stand beside her.

Meanwhile Rebecca shook her head and holstered her blaster pistol. “Last time I saw you, you made mince of seasoned soldiers.”

Ducking her head, Dani shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably, her grip tight around the unlit hilt of her lightsabre. “I wasn’t really myself then.”

“Clearly.”

Jamie nudged the injured soldier with the toe of her boot. “Oi. Where’s the Sith gone?”

At the mere mention of the Sith, his face went pale, his dark eyes glancing between the five of them standing over him. His voice trembled when he spoke. “We - We were just supposed to hold ground behind him.”

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Owen assured him. “Just tell us which way he went.”

The Imperial soldier lifted a shaking hand and pointed at a door further along the hallway, branching to the left. Dani sucked in a sharp breath.

“What’s that way?” Jamie asked.

“Lord and Lady Wingrave’s quarters,” said Dani.

“There are others,” the soldier said. “My squad was just supposed to flush out any stragglers.”

“Any other way in?” asked Rebecca.

“Uh -” Dani bit her lower lip and glanced about the great hall. “That wing has been shut for years, but I think - I think so. Yes.”

Jamie made a shooing gesture. “Lead the way.”

“What about me?” said the Imperial soldier.

“Owen?” said Hannah.

“Right,” said Owen, and he leaned down to tap the soldier aside the head, upon which the soldier immediately slumped, head lolling to one side, fast asleep.

“Useful, that,” Jamie mused. “Can you do that to me next time I’ve had too much stimcaf late in the evening?”

“Only if you want a migraine when you wake up,” Owen said dryly.

“Mmm. On second thought -”

“Come on, you two,” Rebecca said in exasperation, already following closely after Dani and Hannah down another hallway.

Leaving the wreckage of the main hall, they hurried after their guide. Dani led them through twisting corridors and broad rooms, the house like a vast labyrinth of doors sprawling in all directions. At one point they passed through what was clearly a little girl’s room — at least, if all the dolls and the miniature estate were any indication. Jamie accidentally trod on something, and she glanced down.

It was a handmade doll. Pale-skinned. Grey-robed. Long and dark-haired. And completely faceless.

With a faint shudder, Jamie kicked the doll aside and continued after Dani who had taken them to — of all places — a walk in closet. At the far end of the closet was a floor-length mirror. Dani froze so suddenly that Jamie almost walked into the back of her.

“What’s -?” Jamie started to ask but never finished.

Looking over Dani’s shoulder, she could see all of them reflected in the glass, except Dani. In her stead, a grey-gowned shadow with a face worn smooth by time and memory.

“Dani,” Jamie murmured, staring at the reflection. When she touched the small of Dani’s back, Dani jolted and the apparition vanished like a wisp of smoke.

“It’s fine,” said Dani too quickly, her voice tight as a clenched fist.

“Is something wrong?” Owen asked, peering over the tops of their heads for a better look.

“No,” Dani insisted. “It’s nothing.”

Feeling vaguely sick, Jamie opened her mouth to speak, but Dani had already stepped forward, approaching the mirror with a trembling outstretched hand. A press of her fingers and the mirror swung forward on hidden hinges, revealing a dark passageway yawning beyond it. Inside there echoed the sounds of blaster fire, of grenades and men screaming in the distance.

“Yeah - uh - no offense,” said Rebecca, “but I do not want to go in there.”

Dani steeled herself and took a step inside. When she peered back at them, one of her eyes gleamed golden and owlish from the shadows. “It’s the only shortcut to the Lord and Lady’s wing. I discovered it by accident one day.”

And without further ado, she turned and vanished into the narrow warren. When the others all stepped forward to follow Dani into the darkness, Rebecca groaned and trailed after them. Jamie lost all sight when Rebecca shut the mirror behind them. Owen unsheathed his lightsabre, holding it up into the air to light the way as though he were carrying a blue torch. Dani was already far ahead, walking without the aid of light, a silhouette through the murk.

The sounds of battle grew louder the further they delved. At one point Jamie nearly jumped out of her skin when a bang made the wall to her immediate left vibrate and shed flecks of plaster.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jamie gasped, clutching her chest in one hand and her blaster pistol in the other. “Can we please get out of here? I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”

Dani walked a few more steps, then stopped before a section of wall that looked like all the other sections of wall. That was until Owen drew close enough that the light from his sabre revealed the faint outline of an old mechanical panel. Dani placed her hand upon it and glanced over her shoulder at the others.

“Ready?”

Hannah pushed the button to unsheathe her lightsabre, and she and Owen took up post on either side of Dani, while Rebecca and Jamie stood behind them, blasters at the ready. Dani gave Jamie a questioning look, waiting for a nod before she drew a deep breath and twisted the panel to a horizontal position.

The wall rumbled slightly, then swung outward with a groan of hinges. The room beyond was not, as Jamie had originally suspected, a bedroom. Instead it was a sprawling lounge. Once lush and wood-panelled, the walls lined with old paintings, now filled with smoke and blaster fire. Guardsmen in House Thul colours scrambled to hold ground in this last bastion of the manor, while Imperial soldiers crowded the only entrance chokepoint.

Neither side had yet noticed the ragtag group of Jedi, smugglers, a gardener and a governess that had walked through an enormous painting along the wall.

Jamie didn’t need to be told this time where the Sith had gone; it was clearly evident in the path of destruction in his wake. Dead guardsmen in various states of dismemberment. Great gouges raked along the floor and walls, the stone still simmering with the faint glow of embers. A pillar had been cut completely in half and was sprawled along the ground. The room was a scarred and smoking ruin barely clinging to life, leading up a set of sweeping stone staircases, and the path curving out of sight beyond a cavalcade of slashed portraits.

“Rebecca,” said Hannah in a brook-no-nonsense tone. “With me. We will hold off the Imperial troops. The rest of you -” She looked at the three of them, ending with a softer glance towards Owen. “Find the children. And come back to me.”

Owen nodded and his moustache twitched in a tell tale smile. Then he looked back at Jamie and Dani, jerking his head towards the staircase. “Follow me.”

Rebecca was already going through the motions of checking her blaster pistol to ensure it would shoot without error.

“Are you keen to kill a few Imperials, Miss Jessel?” Hannah asked, sounding amused.

Rebecca smiled and cocked the pistol. “Always.”

Hannah made a gesture towards the fight. “After you.”

And they were off to the races. Jamie shook her head after them, then followed Owen, who was already hurrying up the stairs with Dani. There were no soldiers here, neither Imperial nor Thulian. The door to the sleeping quarters was open, and the sound of muted conversation issued forth, as of two people discussing a mundane topic over a drink. Steeling herself, Jamie stepped into the room just behind Owen and Dani.

The room sprawled, as large and opulent as the rest of the estate. A four poster bed stood proudly at the far end. Portraits continued to dot the walls at all levels. There were a few armchairs and a plush couch, and in the centre of the very room, two men.

The Sith wore a black and fully self-contained suit, complete with a red-eyed mask and tubes that hooked over his neck and shoulder into some sort of apparatus at his back. Jamie had only ever seen someone wear an outfit like this once before, and it was to combat the Rakghoul plague on Taris. His speech was interspersed with sporadic coughing fits, but his movements were steady. He held up Lord Wingrave in the air with the Force as easily as though holding up a cup of tea.

“You cannot hide them forever,” he was saying, his voice altered through a respirator. “I will tear this manor apart, limb from limb. And that gift which to others hath been a boon shall to you be a very bane."

Owen hefted his lightsabre and said in a commanding tone, “Let him go.”

The Sith glanced over his shoulder and turned. The eyes of his mask were scarlet half-moons that gleamed through the darkly paneled space. Behind him Lord Wingrave continued to choke, face purpling.

The Sith tilted his head, sizing up his unexpected company. Then to Jamie’s shock and confusion, the Sith bowed to them — or, rather, to Dani.

"My Lady," he said, straightening. "Your presence humbles me. We shall find for you a more suitable host in due course."

Dani stared at him in absolute horror, saying nothing.

Owen stepped forward. “Your fight is with us, not him.” Owen gestured towards Lord Wingrave with his lightsabre, and he repeated, “Let him go.”

“But of course,” said the Sith. He unsheathed his lightsabre — red as a bloody dawn — and held it to the side so that when he released the Force, Lord Wingrave fell directly upon the blade.

Dani cried out, but Jamie held her back before she could move forward. Lord Wingrave slumped, his body pierced completely through the chest. He choked on an inhalation, and then the Sith deactivated the lightsabre, and Lord Wingrave crumpled to the floor.

The Sith stepped over his body, approaching them and coughing, a wet and sickly rattling of his lungs. When he spoke, he addressed Dani alone, as though she were the only person in the room. “The Force has brought you to my side. And I will not let such an opportunity slip between my fingers.”

At the front of the group, Owen kept looking between the approaching Sith and the man dying in his wake. He did not turn around to ask Jamie, “Think you handle this?”

Jamie glanced at Lord Wingrave. His chest was still rising and falling, but his breaths were shallow and growing weaker by the second.

“No,” said Jamie. “But go anyway. I’ll cover you.”

With a nod, Owen sprinted forward. Jamie fired several shots at the Sith, not aiming to hit, just to distract. The Sith, of course, deflected every blaster fire with his lightsabre as though batting aside a particularly irritable fly. However the cover fire served its purpose, and Owen was able to slip by without the Sith engaging him in combat directly.

Indeed, the Sith seemed utterly uninterested in anything else in the room that wasn’t Dani. He continued to stride forward, steps slow and sure and steady as the tide. Behind him, Owen dragged Lord Wingrave into the far corner beside the bed, lightsabre sheathed, and began to tend his wounds. Jamie wasn’t well versed in the healing arts — never would be, truth be told — and honestly it seemed like all Owen was doing was meditating beside Lord Wingrave’s body. Must’ve done something, though. At least, she hoped it did.

And all the while, the Sith was striding towards them with singular intent.

"You can start shooting again now," Dani muttered to Jamie.

"Do you remember blaster fire being useful against you?" Jamie asked, incredulous, even as she holstered her pistol.

“No,” said Dani. Even so, she pulled out her lightsabre hilt, ready to unsheathe the blade at a moment’s notice.

The Sith stopped a few paces away. Close enough that Jamie could see the scars on his armour, the ragged hems of his robes, the piercing quality of his mask’s eyes. When he spoke, it was only to Dani, as though Jamie weren’t there at all.

“Your love for these people makes you weak. You are ruled by your own fear, rather than taking control of it. If only you had the stomach,” he hissed. “You could be so much more. But as you are, you’re not fit to play host to The Lady.”

Dani’s hands trembled around the hilt of the lightsabre, but her voice was steady and clear. “You know nothing about me.”

The Sith’s laughter was broken by coughing, his broad shoulders shaking, yet for all that he never appeared any less commanding a presence. “Your emotions betray you. Lay you bare. I can taste your fear, feel your anger.”

He circled round her with slow footsteps and Dani turned to follow him with the tip of her lightsabre. She shook her head, eyes unyielding, jaw tightly held.

“No?” he asked, his tone amused through the rasp of his respirator. “Then, prove me wrong.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Jamie said, low and warning. She could see the way Dani’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, but otherwise Dani did nothing.

“What are you waiting for?” he growled, and in a motion too quick to follow he hefted his lightsabre — the blade a darker, muddier red beside the pure crimson of Dani’s kyber — and slashed at Dani’s feet with a snarl, making her leap back and leaving a smouldering furrow in the ground. “Strike me down!”

Dani regained her footing and brought her lightsabre back up into a defensive position.

“I will kill all you hold dear. I will make you watch as they die. I will take you to my master on Dromund Kaas as a prize, and you will know such suffering. Until we pry the soul from your lungs. Until the very end.” The Sith stalked to and fro like a great animal pacing its enclosure, dragging the tip of his lightsabre on the ground behind him so that sparks scattered at his footsteps. “Your name will be a blight on this house, a mark of its end. I will find these children and make them instruments of the Dark, and they will know that you were the reason why.”

Hands tightening around the hilt of her sabre, Dani’s eyes darted away from him and towards one of the paintings hung low on the far wall. The Sith paused, then followed her gaze.

“There you are,” he murmured.

He reached out a hand and the painting was ripped from its hidden hinges on the wall, revealing a small chamber beyond, just enough for people to hide objects of value. Except in this case, there were two children huddled and crouched. The elder of the two — a boy — saw Lord Wingrave sprawled on the ground, attended to by Owen, and he cried out, “Uncle Henry!”

“Miles, don’t -!” Dani shouted.

The Sith caught him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him close. Miles struggled and kicked, but the Sith’s grip was iron.

“My, look at you,” the Sith said, tilting his head as though appraising a piece of fine jewelry. “So wrathful for one so small.”

Miles tried to claw at the Sith’s respirator, and for this he was backhanded so hard he staggered and fell, clutching his cheek. Both Dani and Jamie took an abortive step forward. His sister raced forward to make sure he was all right.

The Sith gestured to the children behind him. “New apprentices for my master. Or perhaps, only one is needed.”

When he raised his lightsabre, Dani moved before Jamie could stop her. She caught the blade with her own, parrying it aside and putting herself between him and the children, lightsabre raised and ready, eyes hard. The Sith tested the edge of Dani’s blade, the sound of two lightsabres running against one another like nothing else, electrifying the very air, and they began to circle around one another like a pair of vultures over a carcass.

The Sith moved with the swiftness of a snake, striking with sure movements that Dani could barely deflect, her brow pinched in concentration. As they moved about the room, Jamie sprinted forward, avoiding the fight so she could crouch down beside the children.

Miles was fine, though addled and shaken. His breath came shallowly and he trembled more from fear than anything else. The girl meanwhile was putting on a brave face.

“Hey. Hi. I’m Jamie,” she said, slightly breathless. “Can you stand?” she asked Miles.

He nodded, but struggled to do so. She picked him up and half carried him towards a more sheltered corner, urging the young girl to follow her closely. Jamie checked Miles for any other wounds, but there was nothing but the bruise blooming across his cheek.

“You’ll be right,” she murmured, cupping said cheek and giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Behind her, Dani was losing ground, giving ground, defending rather than attacking. The Sith seemed to be toying with her, darting his blade in various directions to see how she would react, testing the waters and thoroughly enjoying himself if his creepy fucking laughter was any indication.

“Stay here,” Jamie said in a low tone to the kids, eyes fixed upon the Sith.

Her blaster pistol was next to useless in a fight like this. Jamie patted herself down. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her slacks and withdrew the small mining laser. Its blade extended maybe only a few centimeters in length, bright green and hot.

Glancing up, Jamie watched as Dani and the Sith circled one another like two wary predators. She adjusted the mining laser in her grip and waited until the Sith’s back was to her. Then, drawing a deep steadying breath, she rushed forward before her courage could fail, and stabbed into his back. The laser’s tip pierced through one of the hoses wrapped around his neck and shoulder. Instead of oxygen leaking out, a billow of sickly yellow smoke streamed from the ruptured section of hose, smelling strongly of sulphur. With a snarl, the Sith turned and slashed his lightsabre in a raking blow. Jamie ducked to the side but not fast enough.

The last time Jamie had been on the wrong end of a lightsabre wound, it had burned a hole straight through her shoulder as though her bones were made of softened butter. This was a similar experience, and one she had hoped to never feel again. The tip of the lightsabre whipped up, missing her arm and torso, and instead scoring her face.

A flare of white-hot pain. Jamie flinched and scrambled away, nearly losing her footing and only managing to catch herself on the edge of an armchair. The mining laser clattered to the floor. One hand reached up to test the left side of her face, and she grit back a hiss through her teeth. She had shut her eyes reflexively and was now afraid to open them for fear that one might not work anymore. Tentatively she peeled them open — one after the other. Her left eye stung, unable to see through the curtain of blood dripping down her face. She blinked and tried to wipe the blood away, but stopped when she accidentally touched the wound slashed from brow to cheek.

“Are you okay?” asked a small voice through the din, close by.

The boy, Miles, had crawled over to check on her, his face pale. Jamie nodded and tried to stand up, but felt woozy. Flashes of red and animalistic snarls. With her right eye Jamie could just make out two figures fighting tooth and nail in the centre of the room.

Where before Dani had never attacked, now she never defended. Her lightsabre struck out, sharp and sweeping and reckless, always advancing, always taking ground, always seeking an opening, demanding an opening, finding an opening. The Sith stumbled back with a desperate parry, the air like a painting itself streaked with the red of their sabres and the yellow of sulphur and the bright, crucible gold of Dani’s gaze. And it was cold, a cold so deep Jamie could feel it congeal the blood on her face.

Dani thrust out her hand, a wave of the Force slamming into his chest and forcing the Sith back until he was cornered against the foot of the four-poster bed. He held his lightsabre up to deflect another attack, but could not move as Dani rained down blow after wailing blow. No art to it now. Just mad ferocity. Hacking at him as if with an axe, teeth-bared, hair wild, terrifying to behold.

“Shit.” Jamie kept a hand on Miles’ shoulder, putting herself between him and the scene unfolding even as she fought the urge to shrink back, to grab him and run for the exit.

Something darted just under Jamie’s sight, a flurry of movement past her bad eye. Before she could stop her, Flora raced over and jumped atop the bed, wide-eyed and terrified. “Stop it! Miss Clayton, Stop!”

Dani froze, panting, lightsabre lifted overhead, mid-swing. She blinked, her face slackened, and she slowly lowered the lightsabre with a small shake of her head. The Sith at her feet was wheezing, wracked with intermittent coughs as the gas in his suit bled out. And when her guard was lowered just fractionally too much, he let out a sound like a growl and stabbed.

Dani swept her lightsabre down in time to block the attack. What exchanged was a brief flurry of action so fast Jamie could scarcely follow it. Parry, riposte, and then they were poised in trembling finality, Dani’s lightsabre struck through his chest in a killing blow.

The Sith’s hand trembled. He reached forward to clutch her close by the shoulder and whisper something in Dani’s ear. Jamie couldn’t hear what he said. She could only see the way Dani’s eyes widened, the way Dani sheathed the lightsabre and caught him before his body could fall to the ground, lowering him gently into death.

Jamie let go of Miles, and he raced forward towards his uncle, kneeling beside him. Owen seemed to come from a trance, looking pale and exhausted. When Henry took a deep breath and sat up, Miles made a sound both choked and relieved, hugging him tight. Meanwhile, Lord Wingrave grimaced in pain, barely able to do more than wrap an arm around his nephew and send Owen a confused glance.

Mopping up the side of her face with the sleeve of her shirt, Jamie stepped forward. Dani was still kneeling on the ground, supporting the weight of the Sith with a dazed expression on her face. The young Wingrave girl sat crouched on the bed, trembling and frozen in place. Jamie touched Dani’s shoulder, feeling the tense of muscle there, and urge her to stand upright so she could bring her into a swift and fierce hug. Dani breathed harshly in her ear, sounding dazed, sounding thready and disbelieving.

“I’ve got you,” Jamie said. “I’ve got you. Well done.”

Dani reached out a hand and pulled the Wingrave girl into the hug until the three of them stood there in vaguely puzzled bliss, unsure of how exactly they had escaped, unscathed.

When Dani let go, the Wingrave girl jumped down from the bed to join her brother beside Owen, the three of them checking on her uncle. Dani’s gaze followed them, looking pained, even guilty.

“Hey,” Jamie said, drawing Dani’s attention. She pointed at her own face. “We match.”

For a moment Dani simply blinked at her in confusion until Jamie indicated her own fucked up eye. Then Dani laughed, shocked, brief, and belly-deep. She reached up and gently stroked the side of Jamie’s face, her expression pained. “I’m sorry.”

“Some things are more important,” said Jamie, lifting her hand to cover Dani’s. “Like: does it make me look dashing?”

With another incredulous laugh, Dani leaned forward instead of answering and kissed her. Jamie winced when Dani’s nose brushed against the burn on her cheek.

“Ow.”

“Sorry! Sorry.”

Dani pulled back and tried to pull her hand away as well, but Jamie held it where it was so she could press her lips to the centre of Dani’s palm.

Owen was urging Lord Wingrave to his feet when Hannah strode into the room. Her lightsabre was hooked back onto her belt. She had a few marks on her otherwise pristine burgundy robes, evidence of the fight she and Rebecca had endured on the front lines. Rebecca herself was in deep conversation with a Thulian guardsman near the exit.

Dani spared Jamie a rare smile before she rushed over to Henry and the others when Jamie let her go. Touching the wounded side of her face, Jamie blinked through a layer of crusted blood and was gratified to find she could, in fact, see through her left eye.

“How’d you get on?” she asked as Hannah stopped before her.

“All’s quiet on the front,” answered Hannah. “The Imperial invasion of House Thul has been thoroughly cast aside.”

“Happy fuckin’ days,” said Jamie, still exploring the wound on her face with a tentative press of her fingertips.

“You look a little worse for wear,” Hannah replied, cocking her head to one side. “Though you seem to have done the job.”

Lowering her hands, Jamie gave a bitter laugh. “Not me. All Dani. I just stood there like a muppet half the time. And got injured, to boot.”

Hannah made a soft sound in the back of her throat. “Pasha and his Troopers were looking for a Sith assassin.” She nudged the dead Sith’s robes with the toe of her boot. “This looks like a Sith assassin to me.”

“Yeah, but they were looking for someone of Dani’s description.”

“Unfortunate that,” Hannah sighed. “How easy it is for innocent people to be pulled into the undertow of Sith machinations. Lord Wingrave will say nothing of her, I’m sure; his debt is too great. The children are young; they will forget. And the overwhelming evidence will say that Danielle Clayton was never here.”

Jamie stared down at the Sith corpse before her. She mused over the possibility of tearing off his mask and looking upon his face, before coming to the conclusion that she would rather not know. That he was better in her memories as this — the awful caricature that he wished to be perceived as. With a shake of her head, Jamie tore her gaze away in favour of watching Dani across the room.

Dani talking to the children. Dani talking with Owen. Dani tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and standing with hands clasped gently before her and an auspicious smile on her face.

"Such a small thing. Such a little thing to house the echo of a soul," Hannah mused beside her. "It's got me to wondering about our dear friend Miss Clayton."

Jamie made a noise to indicate she was listening, even while both their eyes remained training on Dani, watching her chat with Owen and Lord Wingrave.

"Holocrons, you see," continued Hannah, "wouldn't make for very good receptacles of secret knowledge if they could be opened by just anyone. To open one requires use of the Force. A great deal of it, I might add."

With a jerk, Jamie tore her gaze from Dani to stare at Hannah. Then she turned her head back towards Dani, who was now crouching down to talk to one of the children — the little girl. Jamie watched as the girl threw her arms around Dani’s neck and something flickered, gold and bright, in Dani’s eye, her expression unreadable before she relaxed and returned the hug with an easy warmth.

“Does she know?" Jamie asked.

Hannah shrugged. "I have hinted at it, but thought it best to leave it at that for now. She should come to this realisation on her own. I'm telling you, because in the future the two of you might want to explore what she is."

"And what is she?"

Hannah smiled. "Herself, of course."

Across the room, Rebecca gestured from the main entryway and called out. “Pubs incoming. We should get a move on.”

Dani straightened, hand lingering on the girl’s shoulder. She nudged Flora towards Owen, who was now talking directly to the Wingrave boy. Meanwhile Henry took the opportunity to pull Dani into a grateful hug of his own, making Dani go rigid all over then laugh nervously and pat his shoulder. As Jamie watched her, she felt something warm in her chest unspool.

Beside her there came a slight cough. Glancing at Hannah with a frown, Jamie said, “What?”

Looking like she was trying to bite back a smile, Hannah shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, one hand toying with a gold earring. “Just nice to see you so unsurly for once. She’s a good influence on you, that one.”

Jamie narrowed her eyes. She nudged Hannah’s elbow with her own and grumbled, “Shut it.”

Hannah chuckled, a low warm sound. When Jamie started towards the exit as well, Hannah did not follow.

Jamie stopped. “You coming?”

With an all-encompassing gesture towards their ruined surroundings, Hannah said, “Someone has to stay behind and spin a tale for the Republic Troopers. And doubtless there’ll be paperwork for Owen and I to fill out regarding our new Temple initiates.”

Jamie nodded. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You and I both know that’s not how this works, dear.”

“Right.” Jamie gave a rueful shake of her head and rubbed at the new scars on her face; they itched something fierce. “More Jedi bantha shit.”

Rather than take umbrage with Jamie’s word choice, Hannah simply made an amused sound in the back of her throat. “The fact you think that doesn’t apply to you after all these years -” Hannah trailed off and waved Jamie away. “Laughable. Really.”

Jamie backed away towards the door in lazy strides. “We’ll see you soon?”

“You had better,” Hannah replied in a warning tone. “Three years of nothing but pre-recorded postcards? The gall.”

With a laugh, Jamie blew Hannah a kiss — which earned her an exasperated roll of Hannah’s eyes — before finally turning and walking towards the exit, headlong. Dani stood just outside the doorway, waiting. When Jamie drew near enough, Dani tangled their fingers together and gave Jamie a tremulous smile.

“Okay?” Dani asked.

Jamie squeezed Dani’s hand. “Yeah. Perfect.”

Dani reached up but did not actually touch Jamie’s face. “We should probably get this looked at.”

“Later,” said Jamie with a dismissive shrug. “I bet Jane can’t wait to hold my head under a kolto tank until I drown.”

“Jane likes you,” Dani insisted, dragging Jamie along so that the two walked after Rebecca and out of House Thul.

“Do they, though?”

“Well,” said Dani, then she paused in consideration. “I think so, anyway.”

Guardsmen of House Thul scurried about. They were taking prisoners and speaking into comm units to — presumably — incoming Republic troops. Dani and Jamie slipped past them all, doing their best to avoid all and any notice. Nobody stopped them, just as nobody stopped Rebecca, until the three of them had left the manor and stood before Rebecca’s ship. The three Imperial soldiers were still sprawled on the ground from when Rebecca had shot them. The Corporal’s eyes were glassy, his muscles rigid in death.

When they had reached the ship proper, Rebecca holstered her pistol and turned. “Guess this is it,” she said.

Jamie stopped and squinted at her friend. "If I hug you, are you going to taser me again?"

"Depends on where you put your hands." With a laugh, Rebecca pulled her into a hug, arms wrapped tightly around Jamie’s shoulders. Jamie returned the gesture, tucking her face into Rebecca’s shoulder before stepping away.

"I really need to dash before either the Pubs or Imps find out I've been here." Rebecca grasped Jamie's shoulder. "We even, now?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, then. Wait -" Jamie said when Rebecca took a step back. "How are we supposed to get off the surface without you?"

Rebecca made a vague gesture to the sky. "Jane has a transport shuttle. Just call for it."

"Jane has a transport shuttle?"

"Good grief, Jamie. I gave you one of my favourite ships. The least you could do is talk to it."

"I'll think about it." Jamie grinned when Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We'll probably head off to -"

"Ah, ah!" Rebecca shook her head and mimed covering one ear. "Don't tell me. It's better if I don't know."

Her dark eyes drifted over Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie heard light footsteps approaching, and Dani stepped up beside her. She smiled at Rebecca. “Just thought I should say thank you, before you go.”

“My pleasure. Really.” Rebecca held out her hands. “Don’t suppose you want a hug, too?”

With a shake of her head, Dani nevertheless stepped forward, smiling into the hug. Rebecca patted Dani on the back, her hand getting tangled up in Dani’s nanosilk cloak.

Laughing, Rebecca stepped away, untangling her hand from Dani’s cloak. “How you manage to fight with that thing on is a miracle.”

Dani straightened the cloak around her shoulders, grinning broadly. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“From what I understand, luck has nothing to do with it.” Rebecca glanced between Dani and Jamie, her smile softening. Behind her, her ship lowered its gangway. Rebecca lifted her hand and touched her brow in a jaunty sort of salute. “Don’t be strangers.”

Dani waved as Rebecca turned and boarded her ship. The gangway retracted behind her and the ship sealed itself. Jamie watched through the transparisteel windows of the cockpit as Rebecca strapped herself into the captain’s chair. The engines revved to life and with a burn of fuel, the ship rose up into the air, and she was gone.

Jamie fished out a handheld transponder from her pocket. "Jane?"

The ship's computer spoke through the little speaker. "How may I be of assistance?"

"We need to get off the surface. Think you can help?"

"I am sending a transport shuttle now. Estimated time of arrival: two minutes, thirty-seven seconds. Please stand by."

Lowering the transponder, Jamie pocketed it right beside the small mining laser. Dani had her head tipped back to look at the sky to watch Rebecca’s ship go, shielding her face from the watery sunlight with the flat of her hand. With a smudge of dirt across her cheek and her hair a-tumble, standing amidst the rubble of a warzone, she was perfect.

"Do you think it's warm on Corsin?" Dani asked idly. When Jamie did not answer, Dani lowered her hand and tipped her chin back down to face her. She blinked in confusion. "What are you looking at?"

The cold mountain breeze toyed with the long curls of Dani's hair that had come loose during the fight. With a smile, Jamie gave a slow disbelieving shake of her head. Then she reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Dani's ear.

“You,” she said. “Just you.”

—

The ship’s engines hummed steadily. Rebecca had set the computer to control autopilot, and now stood over a small table in what was supposed to be the dining area. She never used it for that. Only for storage. The place was littered with things most people would pass over with a sniff of disdain, but which years of experience had taught her could get her out of a bad scrap in a pinch.

The table was cleared of everything except the frame of a square object, small enough to sit in the palm of her hand and made of a black gold metal. Inscriptions had been carved into each triangular section, the pieces carefully assembled into a diminutive and unassuming box. Reaching into her pocket, Rebecca pulled out a final triangular piece. For a moment she turned it over between her fingers, then set it carefully into place, so that the holocron was once more complete.

The holocron hummed, filled with a brief intense light, then went out like a snuffed candle.

“Well,” said Rebecca softly. “Shit.”

Behind her a light blinked at the terminal dash. With a grimace, Rebecca looked around before slinging a spare jacket over the holocron to hide it. When she touched it even through the fabric however, she could still feel a faint hum that tingled through her palm and all the way up her arm, an intense numbing itch. Shaking her hand free of the sensation, Rebecca turned around. She ran a hand over her hair and clothes to ensure her appearance was somewhat tidy. Then with a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and pressed a blinking button on the terminal. She tucked her hands smartly behind her back and lifted her chin as a holo flickered to life.

The projection was life-sized. A towering figure all in black. Black robes. Black hood. Face hidden utterly behind a black mask. Rebecca set her jaw and swallowed, tamping down the unsettling urge to look the figure in the eye, even though there were no eyes to look at. And though there were whole solar systems between them, she could not shake herself of the feeling that if the figure reached out, they could grab her by the neck and hoist her up into the air as easily as if she were a child’s toy doll.

When the figure spoke, their voice was deep and crackling through the speakers of their mask. “Have you recovered the holocron?”

Rebecca kept her hands clasped behind her back, her gaze kept straight ahead at a space just over the figure’s shoulder. “Yes, my Lord."

“And?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It seems to be inactive, now that The Lady no longer resides within it.”

“I find that disappointing,” said the figure.

A brief terrifying silence followed, during which Rebecca counted her heartbeats, wondering when they would stop. She squeezed her hands together behind her back when the figure started to speak again.

“Where is the host now?”

“I do not know,” Rebecca answered.

The figure tipped their head slightly to one side and a red light gleamed across the mask. “Are you lying to me, Agent Jessel?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Quint thought he was a good liar. You’re not under such delusions, are you?”

“No, my Lord,” she repeated.

Behind her, she swore she could feel the holocron hum. She had to dig her fingernails into the palm of the hand that had touched it through layers of cloth to ground herself. The figure’s head jerked towards the sensation, sightless gaze watching the space behind Rebecca as though they could see beyond the simple holo of herself she would have projected in return. Most days she was confident in the fact that she had coded her holo to not give away any of her surroundings, no matter where she was. Today, she was not so sure.

The figure looked back at her. “You will return to Drommund Kaas to receive further instruction.”

“And the Jedi?”

“Are none of your concern, Agent. Report back immediately for a full debrief.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The holo flickered out of view. Only once the light had stopped blinking on the dash did Rebecca allow herself to breathe properly again. She inhaled deeply and shook her head. Then she turned and pulled the jacket off of the holocron.

It was still unlit, but it hummed gently.

With one last look at it, Rebecca left the room and returned to the cockpit. She sat in the captain’s chair, keying in commands with practised ease.

The coordinates to Dromund Kaas were set, and she hit the jump command to hyperspace.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #star wars #dami #dani clayton/jamie #no great revelation #roman writes

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noddytheornithopod · 3 years

Text

Before I get to writing about the actual Bad Batch premiere, time to write another weird ranty post. This time... about overwriting canon. If you know what I mean, click the readmore to see what I have to say. If you don’t... well, don’t click, duh.

Yes, I’m talking about Caleb Dume’s inclusion.

Is canon something we hold too sacred? Yes. Am I still going to ask why they change things and wonder if it’s justified or not? Also yes.

I’m not super attached to the Kanan comic like some people are, but even as the episode played, I still took issue with the decisions they made? The reason ended up being surprisingly simple: I just preferred the story that was told in the comic than what we got on screen.

I definitely get why Filoni and co decided to feature this moment. Having a major character from one of your other shows get one of the most formative moments of his life portrayed is an opportunity too tempting to pass up. Honestly, when they made that Caleb model for the Siege of Mandalore opening, they were probably already thinking to themselves they should use it for something else.

As a scene in general, I do like what we got. I do like that we got to see Depa and Caleb together, and that we then saw everything go down, and how Caleb was already panicking and reacting to any clone with intense fear. Only real issues I have are that Freddie Prinze Jr (as great as it is to hear him again), as much as he tries to pitch up his voice clearly isn’t a 12 year old so it’s kinda distracting and even unintentionally hilarious (does anyone else think he even sounds a bit like Ezra at points?). That and, uh, the fact that Caleb’s design is whitewashed for some reason, but I talked about that before. The reason I’m not too into the scene and prefer the comic version though? Well, to put it simply, this isn’t Caleb’s story here.

Kanan: The Last Padawan is a story about Kanan Jarrus, back when he was still Caleb Dume. It’s focused on him and his relationship with Depa Billaba, what he’s like as a padawan, how he got along with clones like Grey and Styles, and of course how all of that comes together to impact him during Order 66. It’s a story about him.

Aftermath on the other hand isn’t a story about Caleb. It’s a story about the Bad Batch. This could’ve been any Jedi padawan escaping, any master that could’ve died, and it would’ve been the same story because it’s about how the Bad Batch react to Order 66 and what decisions they choose to make. They just chose to feature Caleb escaping Order 66 because they wanted to show that scene for Rebels fans. As a result, I was more focused on Hunter and Crosshair’s feelings and motives than what Caleb was going through.

Like, it’s not that it’s wrong to not feature Caleb here (...whitewashing aside, yeah sorry I’m gonna be salty for a while), it’s just that the more personal and impactful version of the story is I feel the comic for the reasons I stated, and now the more “official” version of the story is the one that’s less focused and personal for Caleb.

Oh yeah, there’s another thing that bothers me, but I find it more hilarious than anything: so much is changed from the comic, like yes putting the scene in new context is one thing, but changing things that wouldn’t even impact the story is another. Allow me to explain:

Captain Grey? He’s a commander in the comic, and there’s no Styles. I guess this was to be more efficient but you couldn’t be bothered to paint one more clone in some re... wait, green?

Yes, Grey’s armour is green, but in the comic it’s red. I’ve seen people suggest that it could be to avoid confusion with the shock troopers or even the Bad Batch themselves, but like... is it really that hard to discern? The red is a different shade and pattern. The shock troopers have WAY more red. Eh, what do I know.

On the topic of colours... why is Depa’s lightsabre now blue? It was not only green in the comics, but in freaking live action too (well, at least for promotional photos, IDK if they count as full canon). Let me guess, it’s something like Grey’s armour now being green means we can’t tell the difference now. Is there something I’m missing here? Something as small as a lightsabre colour feels like it’s changed for the sake of it.

Kaller is completely different: much snowier, and we see everything happen at daytime.

Like, stuff like this I just don’t get? Why make such insignificant changes when they don’t really impact the story? Did Kanan talk about how snowy it was when he watched his master die or something? :v I am aware this stuff that doesn’t matter, but that’s EXACTLY why I’m confused as to why they’re changing this stuff.

I think a lot of my confusion at this also comes from the fact that Lucasfilm promised when they rebooted canon under Disney, they would make a more unified and cohesive one to follow, one where everything would feel connected and that any errors would just be that, small mistakes that can be corrected or overlooked. But like, Filoni is clearly doing his own thing. The Siege of Mandalore is different to the Ahsoka novel (and implies some retcons to Son of Dathomir for that matter, an actual TCW story adapted lol). There’s differences with Cobb Vanth in The Mandalorian to his story in the Aftermath books.

The reason I wasn’t as concerned there was because well for one, Cobb Vanth’s written material is something I haven’t read, so I can’t really compare. But for the stuff in the final Clone Wars season, it’s either small things, but even for bigger stuff like how events play out it’s because they told a better story, I felt. That, and all the changes I felt made sense or were at least justified (for example, Ahsoka now having blue lightsabres adds character to her and Anakin). I also felt I was able to reconcile what didn’t fit through unreliable narrators - something I’ve seen suggested for the Kanan comics because those ARE his flashbacks, but again, the issue I have with Kanan is I prefer the story in those comics to here. If it is how they justify things then fair enough, but that’s still gonna make me wonder about things.

Something I also find kinda weird was that the comic was written by Greg Weisman, who was a writer on the first season of Rebels, and for that matter the story editor (a position that in some cases is equivalent to head writer, even if I don’t know if that’s the case here) on said season. So not just some random comic writer, one of the main writers who helped get the show off the ground wrote it. I just feel like it’s really weird that you’d have one of your main writers write this origin story, only to then go and overwrite it yourself like it never existed? IDK what Greg Weisman feels on the subject, but it’s an odd situation. It’s basically taking your co-worker’s work and going “okay but we’re gonna do it MY way instead just to serve my new story because I’m in charge even though you worked with me and you have insights and discussions with me that make your contributions not that of just any writer”).

So yeah, even if canon is something we fixate too much on in fandom, I don’t blame people for sometimes feeling like they’re told the stories they like matter less, especially when you’re being told things are SUPPOSED to be more connected now. Even not being strongly attached to this story as much as others, I feel like making this version more prominent can’t help but bum me out because I feel the story in the comic was more in-depth and impactful.

#star wars #the bad batch #kanan jarrus #caleb dume #tbb spoilers #sw spoilers

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calboniferous · 3 years

Text

Duality

Chapter 8 – Bant

Bant watched from a passenger seat as Master Koon brought the ship out of hyperspace and Garen, having talked his way into the co-pilot’s seat, hailed Naboo air traffic control.

Naboo from space was a truly beautiful world of verdant greens and sweeping blue. At this distance it was nigh impossible to tell that the planet had been party to a violent invasion and occupation. The only indication to these events was the glittering metallic cloud which was all that remained of the Trade Federation control ship.

However, descending over Theed favoured the Jedi with a clear view of the destruction. Bant’s heart ached in sympathy for what she saw.

The graceful pillars and red-tiled rooves of the city’s buildings were marked with carbon scoring characteristic of blasterfire and many of the buildings were reduced to rubble. Tents were tucked between broken columns and piles of debris littered the streets. And, pale grey in the wan morning sunlight, smoke still rose in parts of the city and climbed high into the sky in the absence of wind.

They landed in the main hangar of the Theed Royal Palace. While a number of the starfighter bays were glaringly empty, one of the ships had been decorated with roughly cut strips of red fabric and had ‘The Skywalker’ painted boldly across the fuselage. Bant hazarded a guess that it was the victory ship. The brief sent by the Naboo had summarised the battle and the Masters’ force presences went sharp and icy at the line “young Anakin Skywalker flew a Royal Starfighter to great efficacy and secured victory with his destruction of the control ship”.

No, Plo “Finder to a third of the creche” Koon and Vokara “mother nexu” Che were not happy that a nine-year-old was on a battlefield. After that episode, Bant decided she never wanted to witness ‘scary quiet’ Master Koon again thank you very much. And, in the interest of doing so, she made a mental note to strong-arm the young pilot into a mind healers’ office at the next opportunity.

Serene masks firmly in place, the Jedi descended the ramp before the whine of the engines shutting down faded and they were a small party of Nabooians approched. Bant immediately singled out the clean lines of the Healer’s uniform.

An elderly human man draped in plum velvet stepped forwards and opened his arms wide in greeting. “Ah, welcome, Masters Jedi, welcome! News of your arrival was a surprise, but we are glad of your presence nonetheless; indeed, we owe your kin a great debt although— “

Master Che gave no acknowledgement to the man and interrupted his filibuster, passing him to meet the mirialan healer. “Healer Renada,”

“Master Che,” they said, waving a hand for the Jedi to follow “he’s this way.”

The human man—a politician, Bant deduced from his impractical garb—sputtered as the Jedi swept past without so much as a hitch in their gate, his mouth gaping like those deep-sea fish from Mon Cala. If circumstances hadn’t been so grim, Bant might’ve found it funny. As it was, she was preoccupied with following their guide who, thankfully, kept up a brisque pace.

Bant didn’t have to guess which room Obi-Wan was in, feeling his muted presence through their creche bond. Unconscious, then. Still, the echoes of pain and flashes of light she could sense meant that he wasn’t shielding his end of the bond.

They pushed through the door.

Skin waxy in the blue glow of the monitors at his bedside, Obi-Wan was terribly still. There was a bacta patch on his cheek and white gauze peeked out from underneath the hospital gown. Worse, the mournful lament of a kyber crystal came from the crate on the floor where the silver-and-black hilt of Master Jinn’s lightsabre rested among folds of freshly laundered tunics.

Master Che laid a hand on his forehead and Bant rested her own on his shoulder, feeling the feverish warmth under her palm.

This close, it was impossible to miss the emotions radiating unchecked from Obi-Wan and Bant realised that his shields weren’t lowered, they were broken.

“Master Che,” she said,

“I feel it. Plo, shield us.” her mentor ordered and a moment later, Bant felt the force quiet as the kel dor master wrapped heavy shields around the two healers and Obi-Wan. Preferably, they would have had a team of healers to protect the patient’s vulnerable mind but they made do with what they had. And, Master Koon was no slouch when it came to his control of the force.

“Bant, with me,” Master Che said and, closing her eyes, Bant sunk into the force.

Delving into the force like this was difficult to describe to anyone who wasn’t force sensitive but, if asked, Bant would say that it was like diving into the sea.

The cool weight rushed over her skin and closed over her head, the sudden weightlessness and the pressure of the world around her were old friends. Bubbles trailed from her as she dived, the last vestiges of the physical world

The roar of the force in her ears muted the noise of surface reality but the moving parts of the galaxy are louder than ever. Sound travels faster through water

The sea was calm. A great seawall held back the powerful surge of the open ocean. Quieter, but no less present.

Down here the water was brighter and more tangible around her. Bant could feel the water in the spaces between all things, flowing, pushing, pressing through those crevasses and chasms. Cause and effect. A current rolled up from the sea floor, lifting glittering grains of sand up into the water column, and far above Bant’s head a wave crested.

Breathtaking.

From her earliest memories, Bant thought entering the force felt like coming home. She is not here to drift aimlessly on the current, though, and there is red in the water.

Obi-Wan’s presence ached under her hands. Floating like a strange, pale bloom in the endless blue. His lifeforce flickered weakly as water flowed through his lungs and blood flowed out though Bant could feel that what little strength he had was used to try and hold his wounds closed.

Reaching out to his mind, Bant surveyed the damage. The tear in his mind was undoubtably from a Split and she could see the remains of his bond with Qui-Gon. Bant hadn’t been on the team of healers that dealt with Master Sifo-Dyas’ Split but she had spoken to some of them. She’d listened to their accounts; she’d studied relentlessly and she knew what needed to be done.

Master Che was steady beside her, guiding and holding Obi-Wan’s mind still as Bant cut the mangled mess of the bond free. Unconscious though he was, Obi-Wan’s subconscious mind still tried to twist and pull away from the pain.

I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I’m so, so sorry Bant thought as she brought the clean edges of the wound together and began to close it, stitch by metaphysical stitch. He flinched with every suture.

Healing like this was invasive. A last resort. For Obi-Wan, Bant knew there was no other course of action. The damaged remains of the bond were vulnerable and would never heal properly. Even if it eventually scarred over, it would continue to cause Obi-Wan pain and be a weakness in his shields for the rest of his life. It needed to be removed.

Knowing all this didn’t make it any easier for Bant to do. Stitching skin, suturing the mind. Both involved inflicting a little more injury to bind the wound shut.

Hours have passed by the time Bant and Master Che have closed Obi-Wan’s psychic wounds and painstakingly constructed temporary shields in his mind. Emerging from her trance-like state, Bant blinked her eyes to clear the spots from her vision and stretched her stiff limbs.

“Well?” Garen said, seated at the foot of the bed on one of the hard, white chairs.

Bant gave him a thin smile. “Alive. We won’t know if there will be any lasting effects at this stage but he’s not at risk of dying right now.”

Relief coloured Garen’s force signature and he closed his eyes for a long moment.

“Padawan Eerin is right,” Master Che said, lekku curling as she too stood and stretched, “Obi-Wan will heal. Now, you two— ah, thank you, Plo,” she broke off to accept a cup of water from the other Master, “Much better. You two need to stay close to him. That much force exposure all at once is comparable to trying to hold up the whole Tranquillity Spire all day. So, Padawan Eerin what is the effect of this and what would you prescribe?”

Never a respite from medical pop quiz around Master Che.

Bant gathered her thoughts before answering, “Severe force exhaustion which in turn means he won’t be able to use the force until his connection heals further. When he wakes he’ll be under orders not to try until he’s been cleared.”

“Good,”

“And,” Bant continued, “since he can’t use that sense and doesn’t have Master Jinn’s bond, that means he’ll feel isolated in the force. Garen and I need to keep him company.”

Master Che gave her a look of approval

“Full marks, Padawan,” then, to the rest of the room, “Excuse me while I confer with Healer Renada.”

She exited to the room in search of the mirialan. No longer needing to hold up shields around Obi-Wan, Master Plo retreated to a corner and settled cross-legged on the floor to meditate.

Garen’s eyes flicked from the kel dor to Bant and back, questioning.

“Don’t mind me, young ones, chatter all you want,” Master Plo said, a moment later taking the deep, even breaths characteristic of meditation.

Garen moved his chair to sit next to Bant at Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He leaned his head on her shoulder and Bant rested her head on top of his.

“Thanks, Bant,”

She nudged his boot, “It’s Obi-Wan,”

That was all the explanation in the world to the both of them. Cradling one of Obi-Wan’s hands between two of her own, his stable pulse under her finger kept time as afternoon turned to night.

“We should message the others,” Bant said, who-knows-how-long later and Garen resurfaced from his light doze against her.

“Quin’s going to be mad,”

Bant hummed in agreement. “Reeft should be back in-temple today or tomorrow Coruscant time—whenever that is in Naboo time. They’ll have each other in hand,” Bant squinted and re-evaluated her words, “Reeft will have Quin in hand.”

“Better give him good warning, then,” Garen unstuck himself from where he’d been plastered to Bant and pulled out his com, beginning to type a message to their group chat. For all that they joked about him, Quinlan did have a good grasp on his emotions—he needed to in order to be an effective shadow—but when he was safe and off duty, he could express himself more freely.

Message sent, Garen settled back against Bant, sighing softly. By virtue of healer training, it was nearly inevitable that Bant would be a Padawan for longer than her crechémates. And, as Jedi rank was often equated to maturity by outsiders, her Knighted peers were often assumed to be older that her. Wiser. But among themselves, it was Bant who took that elder role.

With two of her four pseudo-siblings sleeping safely near her, Bant settled in to watch over them and guard their dreams.

#fic #my writing #force bond drift AU #bant eerin #garen muln #obi-wan kenobi #tpm

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madasthesea · 4 years

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Alright, so my friend and I were having a debate over what colour lightsabre peter would have in your Star Wars AU; we’re both stuck between peter having a blue sabre, mostly on the evidence that both he and obi wan share much of the same internal motivations, and him having a yellow one, mostly as a reference to his MCU role, as that “best of all of us,” high morality, look-out-for-the-little-one character; just wanted to ask your opinion :):)

Ok, I’ve thought about this for a while. Long-winded explanation (and a little bit of sequel trilogy complaining) under the cut

So, I gave Peter a blue lightsaber in my SW AU. Jedi with blue lightsabers are known as Jedi Guardians (in legends. There’s no explanation for lightsaber colors in canon as far as I’m aware). They take a more physical approach to solving problems than an academic or spiritual one. Now, I chose this for Peter partially because of his suit color, but largely because, like Obi-Wan, this boy just really cannot stay out of a fight. In fact, in Peter’s case, he actively seeks them out. Not because he loves fighting, but because he feels it’s his duty to protect people that can’t protect themselves. He guards them. I would argue that his primary drive is being a physical shield to those around him (whether that’s out of a sense of duty or atonement is irrelevant to this discussion) and the fact that he gets to swing around a glowy sword and do cool flips is probably not a negative.

Now, yellow lightsabers are harder because, until the last scene of The Rise of Skywalker, they were in legends only. But, from what I’ve found is that yellow ligthsabers were the mark of Jedi Sentinel, who are more interested in academic pursuits then physical. This is different from a Jedi Consular, with a green lightsaber, because Consulars are focused on spiritual pursuits. Sentinels like to learn many different fields; mechanics, politics, mathematics, etc. They rely on ingenuity and a wide-range of skills to solve problems, rather than force or the Force (heh.) Now, I personally don’t see this fitting Peter that much because, while he is extremely intelligent, MCU Peter at least doesn’t seem that focused on learning everything he possibly can about every topic. He has his interests that he excels at, and is always a little eager to finish his homework to go out patrolling. Not what I would call stereotypical Sentinel behavior, but I guess everyone’s different.

But getting back to Rise of Skywalker, because it bears mentioning again: as you know, Rey has a yellow lightsaber at the end--one that she has presumably built on her own rather than an inherited one. Now, of course, the sequel trilogy writers don’t explain why she has a yellow one, because they don’t explain anything and they probably don’t know why she has a yellow one themselves because they know absolutely nothing about Jedi or the Force and just thought it looked cool. But I digress. I personally think her yellow lightsaber is absurd, because she doesn’t fit the description of a Sentinel at all, and if anything she should have a purple lightsaber because she is the closest thing to a “gray Jedi” I’ve ever seen (even though gray Jedi don’t exist, people just don’t understand the Jedi) and she has definitely been tempted by the Dark and has, I guess, overcome it. But, that being said--she and Peter actually have sort of similar drives, but to me, they manifest in very different ways. Rey wants to protect her friends and doesn’t really care that much about people she doesn’t know, and her past often shows itself in anger. Peter is determined to protect everyone and his past makes him act out of duty and a need for redemption. Bascially, if Rey has a yellow lightsaber, I personally don’t think Peter should.

So, yeah, I like Peter with a blue lightsaber, but I think Star Wars is best consumed as a choose-your-own-canon media, so if you’ve found something that supports Peter having a yellow lightsaber, then by all means, give the boy a yellow lightsaber.

#answered #SW ST crit #SW AU #a-l-ias

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painfullybadimagines · 4 years

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Not What I Expected- Kylo Ren Imagine: Part 2

Part 1 / Part 2 💋

Warnings: Almost Smut

*Disclaimer: Not my Gif

You had been walking for a little over and hour in silence, with no more signs of the thing Kylo had seen, you decided to take this as a good thing. Part of you hoped that whatever he had heard was just a log falling but another part of you flashed back the eerie feeling of being watched you had back at the ships. The thought of that was enough to keep you on edge and heighten your senses. You found yourself glancing down at the hand he had taken when you both ran. How he squeezed your hand tightly as he led you through the jungle. How his skin was warm and slightly rough, how his fingers wrapped around your hand. And how delicately he pulled the leaves from your hair, you didn’t think he was capable of anything other than violence

“It’s getting cold” Kylo whispered as the wind swirled around the two of you with an icy sting.

“Must be getting closer to dark” you replied looking around. “I scanned the ground on out way down, it was hard to get an accurate reading through the dense trees, but it looked like there was a cave just down here” you replied stepping up onto a mossy log and trying to look deeper into the forest towards the direction that you had indicated.

Your foot slipped as the moss detached from the log. You were about to lose your footing all together two sturdy hands grabbed your waist and picked you up and then placed you on the ground on the other side of the log. You looked up and Kylo gave you a small smile before removing his hands and continuing in the direction that you had pointed at. You swallowed placing your hands on your waist were his had been moments before, before dropping your hands grabbing the straps of your backpack and following him. You bit you lip as you watched him walk, his broad shoulders and athletic physique drawing some less than PG thoughts into your mind.

You shivered, the chill in the air becoming more apparent. You glanced up at the leaves overhead. The brilliant green light that radiated through them when you first landed was beginning to dull indicating that the sun was now beginning to set.

“Hey I think I found it” you head Kylos voice called from a little ahead of you.

Drawing your gaze from the trees you jogged to his side, and sure enough there was a small entrance to a cave. You held up your watch and pointed it in the direction of the cave, it whirred for a second and then beeped.

“Its empty, the way in is probably too small for anything that can’t burrow a hole to get inside” you said looking through the small entryway. “Come on we need to collect some wood, so we can make it through the night, collect different sizes and don’t bother picking up anything green, rotten or soaking wet.” You finished.

He nodded and dropped his bag at the entrance of the cave and walked off to your left, you raised your eyebrows in confusion as you had expected him to protest again that you were going him order. You shook your head and fifured that he had perhaps finally understood the gravity of the situation.

Twenty minutes later you had both gathered a rather sizable pile of wood at the entrance, Kylo had used his lightsabre to cut down any dead standing trees. However, it had got noticeably colder, and it had started to snow. you worked on dragging the pile of logs into the cave, backwards and forwards log after log into cave. The entrance was narrow, and you had to crouch to get through but behind it opened up into a sizable space. You checked along the wall with a torch to make sure that there weren’t any entrances that could allow any of the planets beasties to get in and eat you in your sleep. As you cast your torch light along the wall you noticed that the wall of the cave was dotted with patches of crystals. You smiled as they twinkled in your touch light as you wondered what they could be, perhaps formations of salt or they could be brilliant diamonds. Knowing your luck though they were likely just a quartz or something else that was pretty but worthless.

You stepped closer to study the crystals further when you heard an almighty roar come from outside, you eys grew wide and you turned on your heal and cleared the short distance from where you were standing to the entrance of the cave. You dropped down you knees sinking in the soft mud and shone your touch down the tunnel. It illuminated Kylo face as you saw him crawling at speed towards you. Dropping the torch, you outstretched your hand to grasp his and pulled him the rest of the way into the cave. He was heavier than he looked and as soon as he was clear of the hole you both lay on the ground for a moment to replenish your strength.

A low snarl resonated through the hole and echoed around the cave, you sat up and looked over a Kylo who was now getting to his feet. You jumped to yours and he motioned for you to stand behind him, you obliged.

The sound came again this time sounding a little more agitated and angry as scratches echoed out of the opening.

“How big is it?” you wondered aloud. “Small enough to get through the hole?” you gulped as you heard shuffling echo down the tunnel.

Absent mindedly you grabbed Kylos hand.

Kylo raised his other hand and a rock from the left of the hold began to scrape across the floor in the direction of the hole. Seconds passed and the scratching at the other end intensified, you could have sworn it was making its way towards you. Stepping closer to Kylo you placed your other hand on his upper arm, so you were now practically hugging his arm in anticipation and fear, watching the rock slot over the gap

Letting out your breath you looked over up at Kylo, and quickly dropped his arm embarrassed before stepping away from him.

“Nice job” you said patting him on the shoulder before turning to the unlit fire you had constructed.

Even with the rock covering the door the temperature was plummeting with every passing second, you dropped to your knees and began building the fire. Kylo stepped next to you and watched you fumble around to make sure that the fire was a decent size and there was enough kindling to get it going.

“Hey, could you pass me the lighter in my bag over their” you said nodding in the direction of your bag sat back on your feet.

You looked up at him when he didn’t move, he smiled and then drew his lightsabre. It lit up the room in a red glow, he touched the tip of it to the logs and within seconds they burst into flame.

“Show off” you said shaking your head and standing up.

He turned it off with a smile before throwing it on top of his bag.

“You’re different you know” you said opening your bag and taking out the blankets and emergency rations. “Different than what I thought you would be.”

“Why, what did you think I would be?” he asked half sitting half leaning against a large rock in front of the fire.

“Well, the way you storm around the ship and the stories people tell. I just figured you were a bit of an asshole” you replied pulling the last items from your backpack and then opening his placing his Lightsabre inside.

“I’m hurt” he says in a joking tone folding his arms.

You shook your head, not looking over at him. You had already had enough of the looks he was giving you. You were now in an almost permanent state of moderate confusion and frustration and he likely knew the effect he had on you, it was probably nothing more than a game to pass the time.

“You should take off as many layers as you can and set them on that rock there to dry” you said unfolding the blankets and throwing one at him before setting two more down on the ground for the two of you to sit on.

He caught it and you looked up and him, he smiled.

“There you go again telling me to take my clothes off” he laughed before dropping the blanket in front of him and moving his hands behind his head. He pulled of his shirt before you had time to turn around, his toned chest was illuminated by the fire.

He seemed to want you to look at him, not cowering away or becoming embarrassed. You quickly averted your eyes and you heard him shuffle around before he sat down next to you in front of the fire. He had the blanket loosely wrapped around his shoulders but mostly open in the front. You realised that he was wearing nothing but his boxers.

You shook your head a little before getting up, trying your best to be unaffected by him and wrapped the blanket around yourself before removing your wet clothing. The second you stepped more than a few feet away from the fire you felt the cold air, it was radiating off the walls of the cave. You shivered before taking off your shirt and trousers bundling up in your arms, before wrapping the blanket tightly around you. You placed them on the rock spread out next to Kylos and you grimaced at the thought of wearing them again tomorrow after they had spent a day becoming wet through sweat, humidity and then eventually snow. you walked back over to the fire ensuring that you kept the blanket wrapped tightly around yourself. Opting to sit at the opposite side of the fire to Kylo.

You watched the mesmerizing fames dance in front of you, every so often a wet piece of wood would pop and send little fragments of burning ash spiralling upwards. You looked through the flames and met the eyes of Kylo, he was also staring into the flames.

His broad shoulders peaking out the top of his blanket, the light of the fire accentuated his sculpted face. The flames danced in this deep-set eyes making them almost glow as he clenched his jaw.

“What’s the matter?” you whispered.

His eyes snapped from the fire up to meet yours, you drew in a fast-small breath. His eyes were intense, dark like the night sky but also warm and inviting.

“Sorry” you whispered looking down at the dirt on your side of the fire, you had been absent mindedly doodling in it with a stick.

“No its okay, I just… I’ve never really done something like this” he said turning his gaze back to the fire and biting the inside of his cheek.

He shifted so he was sitting crossed legged on the floor, his forearms resting on his legs the blanket barely covering him now.

“Done something like what?” you asked a little confused.

He looked up at you and you averted your gaze again.

“Look don’t worry I’m not going to tell anyone that you too orders from someone beneath you and sat around a campfire in nothing but your underwear” you said with a small uneasy laugh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the moment the first order arrive you kill me and leave” you continued now stabbing at the ground with a stick and clenching your jaw.

“Is that what you think of me? That I value life so little that I would kill you even though you’re the reason I’m alive?” he asked, his voice was deep and alluring but it almost seemed hurt.

“Well I’ve flown and fought alongside you for a long time, I’ve seen the sort of things that you do how angry you get over the smallest of things, so yeah. That’s the Kylo Ren that you let the world see…” you looked up to meet his eye which were trained on you and stopped his stare making you feel uneasy.

His eyes scanned your face as he tilted his head to the side, silently urging you to go on.

“Look, I promise that I won’t mention the events that have happened today to anyone, as soon as we get off this god forsaken planet you can go back to being the supreme leader and me a pilot and we never have to talk or cross paths again,” you said looking back at the fire.

You heard him move and then he sat down beside you cross legged the blanket now in a bundle in his lap. He turned his head towards you.

“I don’t want to forget about this, and I don’t want to stop talking to you” he said in a soft whisper, his voice hoarse and deep.

“You know I mean what I said earlier, you really are different to what I expected” you said resting your elbow on your knee and your head in your hand, trying to change the subject.

“Good different or bad different?” he asked turning his head towards you with a small smile.

“Good different, I thought you were utterly terrifying, but you are actually quite nice” you said returning his smile and returning your gaze to the fire.

“Well I need to keep the first order in line” he said his eyes studying your face. “And you’re different too”

You turned to look at him suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

“Wow did the grumpy supreme leader almost compliment me” you laughed shaking your head, blushing slightly at the thought.

He laughed and you swallowed turning you gaze away from him a little embarrassed at the suggestion.

“I don’t think I can do that” he said your heart dropped a little. “Every time your eyes meet mine, it’s like I forget how to talk” you turned back towards him and frowned.

“See just like that” he said with a small smile as he shook his head his eyes shifting from yours to your lips and then slowly back again.

You swallowed as you realised how close your faces had become.

“Every time I look at you I just want to do this” he said closing the distance and placing a small kiss on your lips before pulling away.

You drew in a quick breath before looking from his eyes and then back to his lips. His breathing was quick, and his eyes were filled with desire you moved forward bringing your lips to his and kissed him again this time you didn’t pull away. His strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you forward into his lap you blanket dropping off of your shoulders revealing your bra. He placed one of his hands over yours that was tangled in his hair, he moved your hand and placed it on his chest.

You realised that I was likely a long time since he had been touched or had any sort of human companionship. You let your hand wandered over his chest gently. Your other hand wandered down his jawline and then round to the back of his neck pulling him closer. One of his hands was on your waist and the other moved to cup your face. You absent minded began to grind against him and he drew in a quick breath drawing away from the kiss for a moment. Before coming back in stronger and more needy than before.

Next to you the fire crackled and popped as your hands wandered each other’s bodies, his hand slowly made its way to the edge of the blanket slowly pulling it off you. Then his right hand moved downwards and cupped your butt as suddenly in one fluid motion he lifted you off his lap, upwards so he was kneeling before slowly laying you down. His hand ran from your but down the outside of your thigh as you wrapped your legs around him as he placed kisses down your neck.

Your hands trailed up and down his back, surprised at how toned he was as you felt his hand reach your knee and slowly push your leg away from his body just a few inches before his hand began to trail down the inside of your thigh. His fingertips danced slowly across your skin, making you hold your breath and moan slightly. Before his fingers reached your heat, he moved further to the right tracing along your hip and up your side, not giving you what you wanted.

“Tease” you breathed, moving his face back to yours and looking into his dark eyes as you bit your lip.

He smiled at you longling before placing another kiss on your lips.

“You’ve been in charge all day, now its my turn” he whispered his voice deep and hoarse, his words sendingshivers down your spine as you bucked you hips towards his. His fingers playingwith your bra clasp in the middle of your chest…

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo imagine #kylo ren x reader #ben solo #star wars #kylo ren imagines #kylor ren fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #kylor ren one shot

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