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johanna-swann · 1 year

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White Collar is really one of those shows I love to hate/hate to love (settle in for a rant). Everytime someone breaks a law they're immediately painted as unethical and morally wrong. Even if they had a good reason to commit the crime. Even if they had no choice. Even if nobody was harmed. Even if the only person who suffered financial loss is an asshole millionaire. There's sympathy for the perpetrator's situation, but they're still always painted as being in the wrong. It's all black and white.

I'm rewatching season 4 right now and Neal's mother figure who he has lived with all of his childhood, who raised him and who was a better mom to him than his biological mother just got murdered. The only way to get any leads is to gain access to the US Marshals' files on the case, but they won't co-operate with Neal's FBI friends. So Neal considers to obtain the information he needs - to solve his (kinda) mom's murder - by stealing it. Which I wouldn't judge him for in the first place because his mother got fucking murdered.

But Neal shows incredible restraint and strength of character: He decides against the B&E and even when another thief offers him a deal à la Patricia Highsmith (Strangers on a Train) he refuses. He wants to "stay clean" and knows any mistake he makes would also reflect badly on his FBI colleagues. He would not be the only one to suffer the consequences if things go south.

The other thief is resourceful though, she steals the files anyway and plants fake evidence to frame Neal. Which forces Neal to play along since she has the power to send him to prison now. There's damning evidence against Neal, nobody would believe he didn't do it. But even while he plays along he still finds a way to get the other thief arrested, the stolen items seized by the FBI and confesses the entire story to his handler Peter immediately.

Peter is upset about this. He thinks Neal should've trusted him from the start instead of waiting so long and I kind of get this part. They're best friends in a way and Neal didn't trust Peter. Reminder though: Neal was blackmailed, his mother just got murdered and nothing he did inflicted lasting damage on anything or anyone.

And here comes the real kicker: By having the other thief arrested by the FBI while in possession of the files, the files became evidence in an FBI case - meaning Neal and Peter (who wants to help Neal with finding the murderer) now legally have access to them. And Peter is somehow angry about this???

Again: Neal's mother figure was just violently murdered. Neal only stole anything in the first place because he was blackmailed with the threat of prison. Peter has arrested Neal and put him in prison twice before btw. Neal found a way to legally search previously inaccessible files for leads in an open murder investigation which Peter wants to work with Neal. And Peter is upset. Because? Is he seriously angry that Neal is trying to solve his not-bio mother's murder?

And I'm supposed to sit here, do what the show wants me to do and relate to both of them equally? Bc that's not what's happening here.

The longer the show goes on the less I even like Peter, much less relate to him. If the show was any good, yes, they'd have Neal learn that actions have consequences, but at the same time have Peter learn that the system he is a part of is far from perfect. But no. Peter learns nothing and Neal never catches a break. Fucking copaganda.

#white collar #neal caffrey #peter burke #copaganda #long post #ellen parker

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realityhelixcreates · 4 years

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Lasabrjotr Chapter 61: The Thousand Year Buildup to a Single Moment

Chapters: 61/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Death mentions, Snap flashback Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Stephan Strange Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Communication Is Still Not Their Family’s Forte, Look Historically Vikings Really Got Around, The Descendant Of A Viking Could Come From Anywhere

Summary: You spill the beans about your dreams, and Loki learns about your ancestors.

You munched apprehensively on a granola bar while the entire roster of Avengers watched quietly. They'd wanted to talk to you about something, though Loki protested. Apparently, a decision had been made over breakfast, which you'd missed, and even Thor didn't seem too happy about it.

It was definitely time to worry, when a god-king seemed put out by his friends.

“All right.” You said once you'd swallowed the last of your granola. “What kind of trouble am I in?”

“No trouble.” Steve said. “Just some questions we need to ask.”

“Does the name Thanos mean anything to you?” Tony asked.

You blinked at the directness, but said nothing.

“It's okay. You can tell us.” Steve encouraged.

“Well...cats out of the bag, huh?” You sighed. “Yeah, I remember. Everything that happened in that whole year. But to be specific, I don't actually know anything about Thanos except for what Thor, Loki, and Mynos have told me. All I know about was the result, what it was like living in that world, and then it suddenly being reversed, and no explanation for any of it. I really thought I was super crazy, you know? People disappearing, the whole world thrown into chaos for a whole year, and then it never happened? No one remembered? No I definitely thought there was something really wrong with me.”

“And there are more like you?” Banner asked. “More people who remember?”

“Yeah, but I can't tell you who they are.”

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“It was all online. I don't know any of their names. We never met each other, we're scattered out, all over the world We only really found each other by accident.”

“Are you willing to talk about it?”

“Well...”

Tara had stopped talking, stopped laughing, an odd expression on her face. It was almost midnight, the two of you had come home from a movie. It was all so sudden, the quiet, the confused whisper, the soft rustling of dust as she disintegrated in front of you, pouring through your hands.

Slamming door and running footsteps on the grass. Hyperventilating in the car, the engine roar loud. Screeching, honking, cars run off the road on either side.

Trees fell across the road, snapping, splintering cracks, blocking your path just long enough for them to decay into dust. People rushing out of their houses, out onto suddenly barren lawns, screaming muffled by the car windows, the growling engine.

It was dark, the land had changed. You almost got lost int the swirling clouds of dust, and empty cars, but you found your father's home.

Momo meowing frantically, scraping at the door. The television on, sitcom reruns, and a pile of dust in the kitchen.

Retching echoing in the tiny bathroom, flushing water swirling, swirling like clouds of dust in the wind.

People in the streets, coughing and choking on their neighbors and loved ones.

The corn was gone.

You spent the next week alternating between hysterics and numbness. You spent the week after that burying those who couldn't go on. You never actually stopped doing that, throughout the following year.

You numbers shrank and shrank, as social services failed; power and water, garbage pick up and deliveries, medicine and perishable items, all dwindling away. Your little town had been forgotten. Or maybe there really was no one else left. After the loss of electricity, there was no more news from outside.

Most people came together, but there were always those who didn't understand how to work together, or who had broken during it all, or were broken beforehand. People who couldn't put their prejudices behind them, or tried to seize control over others.

There were violent acts. Assaults. Murders.

You were a murderer.

You hadn't ceased to be a murderer, because you had never ceased to be. You had never started over like everyone else had. The weight of all of it rested on your shoulders like a great and festering tumor.

You had come now to realize that this burden would never be lifted.

The people who cared for you would do what they could. They would build braces for your legs. They would spread soothing balm. But nothing, not the Avengers support, nor your father's acceptance, nor Loki's affection could ever remove this from you. It was part of you. All anyone could offer was a little relief.

You shrugged. “I don't suppose my story is any different from anyone else. Shit sucked.”

“Fair.” Tony agreed. “So, who's Mynos?”

“Yes,” Thor asked. “Who is Mynos?”

“Uh...” Whoops. “Um. He's an alien. That I've seen in my dreams. He's one of whatever Thanos was. Big purple guy.”

Tony and Peter shared a quick glance. Thor was staring at Loki, who managed somehow to look both defiant and contrite simultaneously.

“Um...Titans are extinct.” Tony said slowly. “I was...there. I saw their world; what had happened to it. There's none left now.”

“You said this is a dream you've had?” Strange asked. “You've dreamed of Titan? Can you tell us what it looked like?”

“Yeah. It's...orange, mostly. Dry. Dusty. But I can breathe there, so there's air. There's clouds in the sky, and dust storms. The people there are trying to set back the clock on a major ecological disaster. I guess they poisoned the land and water with pollution, and now they're trying to figure out how to get plants to grow again. Mynos is the only Titan I've ever seen, I never even saw a picture of Thanos. But in my dreams, I can talk to him, and he told me some things.”

“Dreams, plural?” Strange asked. Thor was looking at Loki with open worry on his face.

“Yeah, it's sorta...” You glanced at Loki, who was squirming. “You didn't tell anybody?”

“Yeah Jafar, you didn't tell anybody?” Tony accused. “What didn't he tell?”

You stared at Loki, trying to discern what he wanted you to do. You didn't want to lie to your heroes. But Loki might have a good reason for keeping this to himself. You didn't want to throw him under the bus, but you'd already started talking about it.

He caught your eyes, saw the confusion there, and sighed heavily, dropping his gaze.

“_____ and I have been sharing dreams since the day we met.” He admitted. “For the most part, they are normal dreams, as odd and unfathomable as any other. But in others...”

“We kind of go traveling.” You finished. “We fly through space, and visit places. We've been to Titan twice. It has the potential to be beautiful, and they're trying hard. I wish we could help. But Mynos seems to be the only one who remembers what happened. He's the only one who even remembers Thanos. According to him, even people who worked for Thanos don't even remember him.”

“But these are just dreams.” Sam said. “Why take them seriously?”

“They might be kinda real.” You said. “Like I said, I had never seen a Titan before this; Loki didn't even describe them or show me a picture. And Loki hadn't been to Titan.”

“The description is accurate enough.” Tony said. “I was there. Me and the kid. It was orange, dry and dusty.”

“And there was definitely a civilization there once.” Peter added quietly. “There were ruins everywhere.”

“But no Titans. They were all gone by that time.” Strange cut in.

“Mynos told us that he remembered Thanos killing them all. Not directly, exactly, but he blew a bunch of them up, and made it so that the rest couldn't get what they needed to live. So I guess they went extinct.”

“We believe these dreams to be at least quasi-real due to the fact that, every time it happens, we bring something back with us. Planetary dust and a leaf, to be precise. These samples both reside with our scientists right now.”

Thor looked momentarily outraged, but got a handle on it almost instantly.

“Why was I not notified about this, Loki?” He growled.

“Because it is firmly within the realm of magic, which is my realm, not yours.” Loki said with sharp imperiousness. “What would you have done about it, besides fret?”

“Still think you should have mentioned it.” Thor mumbled.

“Do you mind if we look at these samples?” Dr. Banner asked.

“You can look, but you cannot take them. As you might surmise, these are very rare materials.”

“Which you got from a dream. Because magic.”

“Well, my magic is teleportation, so that's the only thing I can think that makes sense. We were kinda sorta there, and I teleported them out with us.” You added.

“Do you think it would be possible for you to take someone else with you?” Strange asked. “Into your dream escapades?”

Loki frowned and very conspicuously took your hand, cradling it in both of his. “I don't think that's necessary. We do just fine on our own.”

Strange sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, lovely couple, blah blah blah. But for the sake of what we discussed earlier, do you think you could at least record these dreams from now on? Not every single dream you have; there's plenty that no doubt goes on in your brain that I want no part in. Just these possibly real dreams?”

Loki scoffed, but you shrugged. “Nothing wrong with just writing them down, is there?”

“No, but magic, especially as ephemeral as dream magic, cannot be solved by a think tank! It requires insight, meditation, the mind of a seer-”

“Or the ability to see multiple timelines?” Strange suggested.

“Braggart.” Loki scoffed again.

“Or, like, if we're still debating whether Titans exist again, we could just ask Heimdall, right?” You asked. “Right?”

“Well...” Loki said.

“Yes, we certainly could.” Thor answered. “We can get to the bottom of this. Just write them down as they happen. No doubt you phones have a journal app that you can use. Right?” He asked Bruce, who nodded.

“Yeah, that's a thing phones can do.”

That settled, the group moved on to other subjects, the settlement of Trolerkaerhalla, Tony's missing shipment of Chitauri artifacts, the possibility that they were now on the black market, and the fact that one had shown up just outside of Asgard...

But also about funding Asgardian building projects, integrating Starktech into their computer systems, and donating those very computers so that Asgardians could get training in Earth technology. Of finding the materials for Asgard to continue rebuilding its own technology, of trying to integrate the two.

Of an Asgardian space program.

Thor wanted to mine asteroids for resources, so that they didn't put extra pressure on Earth. Tony was all the way behind this idea, but Steve had reservations. Who owned what in the solar system? Was everything going to be a free for all? Would mining other celestial bodies help ease pressure on the planet, or would it be a race between Asgardians and humans as to who could get the most stuff? Would there be space battles? Would Asgards obvious head start in space travel garner them the lion's share of the systems extraterrestrial materials, and would that foment even more human resentment against them?

Although you loved the cosmos, space jurisdiction was way over your head. You dropped out of the conversation to talk to Peter, a precious boy with boundless energy, who you still thought should be in school instead of super-heroing, but it seemed like he was trying to do both. You briefly wondered if Avenging counted as an extra-curricular.

Between the two of you, you came up with an idea to help with the funding of Asgard. You would record videos and podcasts about Asgardian life and custom. Peter helped you set up a patreon, and you ruminated over ideas. You couldn't wait to get Saldis in on this.

Natasha was the first to leave. She just said she had something else to do in Iceland, and saw herself out. The majority of the others left with Tony, on his private jet. Strange went last; all he had to do to get home was open up a portal of orange sparks and walk through. Loki took him aside and spoke quietly with him for a few moments, getting a long answer from the wizard, and obviously pleased with what he was hearing.

He kept that buzz of excitement all through dinner, while Thor seemed to be caught up in the satisfied silence after a pleasant time with friends. He didn't really seem to notice when Loki took your desserts- cubes of goat cheese and grapes drizzled in honey-and whisked you away to his favorite spot to be with you: The black sheepskin rug in front of his fireplace.

There you ate your desserts with the fancy, tiny ram horn forks provided, and he clutched you close so you could feel the solidity of his body, see the firelight sparking in his eyes.

“I found out something interesting today.” He said.

“Did it have something to do with what you were talking to Strange about?”

“Yes, it did. Do you know what I learned?”

You nodded.

“I learned that, a thousand years ago, an object once called the Tesseract was abandoned on earth by my father. There was a great deal of devastation around it, caused by people who tried to wield its power, but the humans of the area finally came to the understanding that they could not safely use it, and built a place of secret worship around it. An order of priests rose around it, claiming their sacred duty was to safeguard the artifact until Odin returned to reclaim it.

Now, I'm sure it's been mentioned that it was actually the Space stone within the Tesseract, and these humans being in constant proximity to it...Well, it changed them, over the generations. Each of these priests was allowed to have one child; and that child was to become a priest or priestess to replace those lost to old age.

Well, one of those children decided to do something else. He ran away, and never stopped running, fearing that he was being chased, and would be dragged back to that life he didn't want. He traveled far and wide, eventually married another traveler, and his descendants also traveled. They went everywhere; deep into Africa, to the farthest reaches of Asia, into India, and all through the Mediterranean. They married in those areas, and their descendants also took to exploring the world. And their descendants, and theirs, reaching Australia, and South, Central, and North America, each generation eventually leaving the place and people they were born into, and settling down somewhere far away. Each generation having the influence of the Tesseract in their background, and never knowing it.

And so, your grandmother left her family in the Yukon, and moved far to the south, gave birth to a son who travels endlessly for a living, and gave rise to you; the first in generations to access the power of your far-flung ancestor.

My darling.” He kissed the top of your head. “My darling, we were always meant to meet.”

He took your marked hand in his, pressing the runes together briefly, only long enough to trigger the buzz. “We were always meant to be connected.”

“So, my ancestors were from Scandinavia?” You asked, caught up in his story.

“They were from everywhere, potentially.” He answered. “Stephen followed all of them on their journeys, but he did not tell me exactly which branch led to you. He did find out where your grandmother came from, and that you have many, many distant relations, all over the planet. All ultimately descended from this one man.”

“Wow. I...it goes so far back. And all because your dad left a shiny thing behind, and of course humans loved it.”

“You are the result of devout worship, and of a galactic force older than existence itself. So unique, my little space sorceress. My precious Seidkona.”

“Loki...” You leaned into him, drawn to is earnest gaze. Was this what he meant when he had said that the Norns supposedly wove peoples lives like threads? Had all these relatives down the line spread out across the tapestry, bringing your thread close to his, until they twined together?

As your lips met, you hoped that those threads would not separate, but stay wrapped around each other indefinitely, creating a beautiful new color together.

#lasabrjotr #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#thor (marvel)#tony stark #Steve Rogers #Steven Strange

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atamascolily · 4 years

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Lily reads Star Wars: Red Harvest, part four

In which sentient plants offer excellent advice, but it doesn't help, and the zombie mayhem at Sith Hogwarts begins.

(If you’re just joining me, check out the “Red Harvest” tag on my blog for previous posts)

At Sith Hogwarts, we learn that the Big Bad is even more devious than we previously assumed:

Her name’s Hestizo Trace,” the Whiphid said. “She’s the orchid’s keeper. It needs her to—”

“Survive,” Scabrous said. “I know. That’s how I knew you were bringing me the genuine article.” He reached up and touched her face, his gloved hand cold against her cheek, like leather wrapped around an iron rod. “It was the one piece of information that I withheld about the orchid.”

PRO-TIP: DON'T DO BUSINESS WITH THE SITH. THEY *ALWAYS* CHEAT.

The Sith Lord nodded. “My droid will pay you on the way out.”

Time for another double-cross? That droid ain’t a HK for nothing...

Anyway, horrible Sith experiments follow using the orchid. Other Sith students spy and scheme. The student Scabrous tortured to death rises from his cage and breaks free. The zombie's first act is to bite off part of Darth Scabrous's face. Good for him, though it doesn't take.

Metal struck metal with a flat, declarative clang that reminded him somehow of the sound of training blades clashing at the top of the temple. It was a noise that said: Things have been put into motion, and whatever happens next, there will be no going back.

#accurate

More Sith students die, but it's hard to care because they're such terrible people. (Though we also learn that some of them were conscripted into the Academy, so they didn't necessarily start off as terrible people, but they sure are now!) I'm skimming a lot because it's all incredibly violent.

Zo escapes in the chaos. Darth Scabrous does some awful Sith alchemy to keep from turning into more of a monster than he already is. Zo eavesdrop on the Sith masters explaining to the students that it's just another Tuesday:

Zo realized as she listened that she could hear a slight but unmistakable tremor of concern in the Master’s tone. He was doing everything he could to cover it up, and perhaps the students were fooled, but to her mind he might as well have been wearing a placard: I’M DOING MY BEST TO SPIN A SITUATION THAT I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO ABILITY TO COMPREHEND, LET ALONE CONTROL, AND—

The orchid talks to Zo and warns her of trouble, but it doesn't help. The bounty hunter shows up again and grabs her before the infected students do. Cliffhanger!

Meanwhile, we meet a Sith nerd who just wants to translate secret Sith scrolls for Ultimate Power--who is also the only female student we've seen thus far. There's a sentient tree librarian in a crumbling library and I'm here for it.

“Something unsettling you, Kindra?” His voice was thick and raspy. “Some uncertainty of the mind, yes?”

“No.”

The librarian didn’t respond, just continued to slither his branches downward until the great bulk of his trunk dangled upside down in front of her, the warty, centuries-old eyes narrowing with myopic consideration. Dail’Liss had been the curator of the library for as long as anyone could remember, perhaps going back a thousand years or more. Although his elaborate root system was permanently embedded somewhere deep in the foundation, a seemingly endless network of branches and limbs allowed him to slide unimpeded through its walls and hollows. Ironically, it was this constant writhing and squirming that undermined the infrastructure of the building itself. Rumor was that it would only be a matter of time before the Neti brought the library down on top of him, sealing himself forever amid his own precious holdings—a fitting enough end, when Kindra thought about it.

“Look.” Kindra shook her head, increasingly irritated by the librarian’s evasiveness. “Either you have answers for me or you don’t. Either way I’m not going to stay in here and hide.”

“Best course of action, I would say.”

Tree!Librarian is right. She's not going to survive is, she? But I'm still kinda rooting for her, if only because everyone else is so awful in comparison. We haven't seen Kindra doing anything evil yet, but I'm sure she has, if only because she's still alive in this place and kindness is anathema to baby Sith.

The Tree!Librarian also doesn't seem evil... yet? How did he get here? What's his deal and why? I am so curious and this is all the backstory I'm getting, which is to say, almost nothing. Sigh.

One of the students gets bitten. His arm starts rotting. This Is Fine.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Meaning what?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” ...

“About what?”

“I don’t know—this night, everything. You feel it?”

“Nope.” He shook his head, feigning an indifference that he didn’t even remotely feel. “Just another day in paradise, as far as I’m concerned.”

LOL, irony.

More zombies. More attacks on Sith students. Chapter Twenty is called "Lockdown" and I just can't even. Most of the Sith students are literally locked in the cafeteria with their ex-colleagues, and then the bloodbath starts. They're using the Dark Side to fight the zombies. It doesn't go well.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, this whole premise is fucking genius, because again, everyone at a Sith Academy is a horrible person doing horrible things in their horrible gothic nightmare castle, so it's hard to feel bad when they are horribly murdered by horrible Sith zombie alchemy monsters. It just feels like Laser-Guided Karma.

Shit just got real because Not!Qui-Gon arrives at the Sith Academy. The mechanic who greeted the bounty hunters is now missing, presumed dead It's tough to be psychometrist when everything you touch generates visions of violent death.

Meanwhile, a handful of surviving Sith students team up, kinda:

Ra’at held Maggs and Hartwig in the same regard that he did the rest of his classmates, with a kind of suspicious indifference. Their motives were purely selfish, as were his; he had no intention of sharing information that didn’t somehow improve his own situation. At this point they all knew something had gone very wrong, contaminating the academy or the entire planet; for the moment they were allies of opportunity.

These Sith can't even work together long enough to survive the crisis. No wonder the Jedi eventually kicked the Siths’ collective asses through the Power of Friendship.

Here, have some conspiracy theories along with your nightmare fuel:

“We all feel something kind of bad in the air, right? Like maybe some kind of a … disease. But who’s to say it’s not just one of Scabrous’s drills?”

Kindra’s eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“For all we know he started this himself.”

“Why?”

“Maybe it is a training exercise,” Maggs put in. “Or maybe he’s culling the weak students. It’s happened before. Remember the unakki eye spiders?”

“This is worse,” Kindra said.

“Don’t be so sure,” Hartwig said. “Eleven students went blind. Two of them died. Remember Soid Einray?”

“Soid Einray was a defective already.”

“Maybe, but he still hung himself afterward. And then we found out that Scabrous had reactivated the fertilized spider eggs from the pathogen bank as a nerve-reflexivity drill.” Hartwig refused to lower his stare. “I still wake up with blood in my eyes sometimes.”

Just another day at Sith Hogwarts, am I right? What a terrible place.

Ra’at began concentrating solely on himself and his own survival, forgetting all the others. The Masters at the academy had trained them to fight as a unit when necessary, but a Sith warrior’s true strength lay in his or her own personal will to power. When you could trust no one, fighting alone was axiomatic, a natural state.

Flattening himself to the wall, he felt the Force’s dark side coursing through him, a crackling electric chill that rendered fear and apprehension obsolete, and welcomed it. In that moment, he felt only a ready vigilance, weightless and unrelenting. Since arriving here on Odacer-Faustin, it was the closest to happiness that he dared let himself experience. Yet in so many ways it was superior to any happiness he’d ever encountered. It made traditional happiness look anemic by comparison.

The POV Sith students watch the cafeteria zombie attack on the security cameras, and realize what they're up against. Meanwhile, Zo is also realizing how much trouble she's in, and the orchid is having a breakdown:

They can’t be killed, a voice whispered from the back of her mind, they’re already dead, look at them. At first she thought she was hearing her own thoughts, and then she realized it was the Murakami orchid, roiling in its own guilt and misery, yammering out words that she alone could hear. Dead but alive, Hestizo, dead but alive, I did this to them, it was my fault, when Scabrous put me into that horrible vat, and now I’m inside them—

Poor orchid. I really like that it isn't evil and is just as horrified as Zo about all this. I’m still not sure how that’s possible, or what actually happened, but that’s okay, because none of the character do, either!

Zo is about to be eaten by the zombies, but then--

I’ve got an idea, she told the orchid. Grow.

What?

You’re in them now, she said, aren’t you? You’re a part of them. You said so yourself.

The orchid does, and the zombies explode through Plant Power.

She concentrated harder—she could actually see the flora growing inside the things now, driving it harder, farther, faster from within, even as the orchid began crying out, begging her to stop, telling her that this hurt, it couldn’t do it anymore—

A lot of screaming follows. But it does work. Once. And then the orchid passes out and... becomes evil? Oh, no, I hope not. Turns out the bounty hunter is still alive, and she's working with him now to survive, like you do. I bet he’s regretting his life choices right now, too.

At that moment, Scabrous had assumed that what he’d seen was a kind of exaggerated nervous twitch, a biochemical accident that the drug and the orchid had triggered inside Nickter’s body. But now—

I wasn’t kidding when I said nobody knows what’s going on; not even the Big Bad has any idea of the forces (ha!) he’s unleashed. He determines that Zo is fleeing for the library, and prepares to trap her there. Will not!Qui-gon get there in time?

Spoiler: not quite.

#star wars #red harvest #book reviews #space botany #space orchids

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