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The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!


elliotcat

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Apologies for the lack of more detailed replies, but am kind of tired.

 

 

@Alaurin: I definitely agree with the others, Ord Mantell doesn't feel nearly as depressing (which it is!) with a sister around. Plus they can run their heroic-2 missions together!

 

@Kabe: I love T7 (he's so cute/lovable) and loved the idea of an advice column. Although, technically speaking, 4x supports your decision no matter what, since he's a kissass :p

 

@Striges: Terrible idea? More like terrific

 

@Selentar: Really enjoying your story, which is not only entertaining but is useful for avoiding doing work in the office ( since I had to go back to read older posts)

 

@marissalf: Now I'm imagining Talos and Kaliyo adventuring together. Glorious? Terrible? Terribly glorious? I should really keep playing my IA before I get IAed out on all your guys' stories though :p

 

@Yoshi- I like your presentation of Aaran (especially your description of his personality)....I like having some heroes that are happy to be doing heroic stuff, really - that's what I did with my knight too. Sometimes it's good to have a hero with baggage, sometimes it's nice to have the good guy cheerfully punching the bad guy in the face :D

 

@Bright - Going off what I said a couple comments ago....now you've got me itching to go back and read/re-read all your old posts. This is bad for my chances of focusing at work/getting to bed at a reasonable hour/getting my own posts done :rak_01:

 

 

A couple of short pieces while I finish up a post for my Ayrs topic:

 

Character: Malicineve

Prompt: Fame

Note: Minor Sith Warrior storyline spoilers. Sometime in late Act 2/Act 3 but

pre-Quinncident

 

 

 

I hated Dromund Kaas. The jungles teemed with insects and other creatures that should have been eradicated centuries ago. If I had my way, they would be soon enough. Its people were worse, crowding Kaas City and drowning the Force with their emotions and attachments. Malav- Captain Quinn was quite fond of the planet, but no doubt that feeling was simply a relic of his unfortunate upbringing as a proud Imperial patriot. I suppose even the non-Sith must have their things to take pride in..

 

I was fortunate to be alone with my thoughts in a remote area of a civilian district, as far as I could remove myself from the centers of power. I...I could not be sure that my judgement would be entirely without bias, otherwise, and it would be far too easy to be distracted by the various passersby. No doubt Jaesa would not want competition for....participants...in any case. It was good to have time to myself to contemplate matters.

 

I felt my arm shaking. Groundquake? Is Baras attempting to move?

 

"Hello."

 

A child's voice. I turned to my right and found myself face to face with a scarred human child, good size for a ritual sacrifice. I would have guessed his age around 10, but it was not too often that I saw a child alive to judge by. I nodded at him, hesitantly. What does this fool want?

 

"You're Malicineve! I've seen all about you on the holonews. You're amazing! My brother said you killed an entire city of slaves on Mendell!"

 

I felt an uneasiness in my stomach, what did the child want from me? "It was more of a town, in fact, but yes."

 

His face lit up with savage glee. "I heard you used the Force on them. And broke their necks and Force choked them!" He made an absurd-sounding crrrrrrk. "Then you boiled them alive and some of them you blasted some with lightning and then the rest you had melted by your Deshade, Khem Val. You guys are amazing! I wish I could be like you but I don't have any Force powers. I'll have to do my slaughtering the mundane way."

 

I eyed him coldly. Was he a plant? An idiot? An idiotic plant?

 

"Is it true that you Force pushed two Jedi into a volcano on Mustafar?"

 

I raised three fingers to correct him.

 

"Wow!" He was shaking with excitement now. "Can I get your autograph? You're my hero!" He pushed a small datapad in front of me, motioning towards the line to affix my holographic signature, which I did. "Thanks! I can't wait to tell my friends about this!"

 

I gripped him by the shoulder, ensuring I was gentle enough not to rip it from its socket. "Hold a moment, child. Let me tell you a story first." His reaction was one of curious anticipation. "Let me tell you a story about the Balmorran resistance cell in the caves and the delicious mix of acid and the Force that ended them."

 

He was so excited that he jumped high enough to touch the stars.

 

 

Character: Olympia

Prompt: Confessions

 

 

I could barely stand the piercing glare of her accusing eyes, all-knowing and completely disappointed. It had been too long since I had addressed these matters where I had...failed...myself or others in some way, and I knew I had to come clean or I would not rest easily again. I looked up, and spoke calmly and without emotion.

 

"I was quite upset at the result of the latest Coruscanti Idol episode. I took the last breath mint at the cantina on Hoth without warning the employees. I raised my voice in anger to C2-N2. I attempted to pry personal details about Tharan from Holiday. I wore an outer robe that completely clashed with my other clothing on Quesh. I voted against Zenith in the Balmorran elections. I am jealous of the Empire's fashion designers."

 

I took a deep breath.

 

"I am addicted to caffé macchiato. I would rather give Taris to the rakghouls than spend more time there. I have lusted after Felix while on missions. I reprogrammed Amitia's protocol droid to get her allotment of cream-filled chocolate eggs all for myself."

 

I felt better. Especially after that last one. Nigh unforgivable

 

I smiled, and saw the gesture mirrored by my reflection. Everything was clearer now.

 

 

 

For Amitia's thoughts on Olympia's last confession: TOR Cadbury Eggs are serious business

 

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Oh my god, I swear I will get there eventually.

 

Yoshi - I have heard of Zeltrons and your post does everything to confirm my suspicions :p At least Jett has a sense of decorum.

 

Kabe - So many things that could have been and the ending options... they should have been the same.

 

Magdalane - The idea of HK taking 'care' of anyone who is ill, is somewhat worrying.

 

Lesberisa - Veresia seems to have a certain amount of naivety toward the Sith, I wonder if that is because Sith are expected to scheme, but (at least due in the class story lines) their maneuvers tend to be rather overt? Ah, food, I believe Amitia will soon find that it is, indeed, the path to the Dark Side.

 

Alaurin - Laying the class story intros out like that does show a little of how forced they seem. Bella's response on the soldiers is entirely understandable - hell, I think most people would wait for a break in the firing, rather than risking their own neck against some crazed freedom fighters with guns.

 

Kabe - T7-01's assistance is nothing short of remarkable, particularly with Mr. I-honestly-am-a-droid,-really. Brilliant.

 

Selentar - If it's one thing I love, it's interactions between Sith and Jedi which don't involve fighting :3

 

Striges - That was beautiful and terrifying. I read it in their voices.

 

Marissalf - What an intriguing mystery.

Edited by Tatile
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Prompt: These Are the Droids

Characters: Ald and 2V

 

 

There's No Off Switch...

 

 

 

“Welcome back, Master. Do you anything? A foot masaage, a –”

 

“Shut up, Twovee,” Ald replied stiffly.

 

“Of course, Master.”

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

For bright. :p

 

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Prompt: These are the Droids

Characters: Adwynyth, Vette, and Quinn

 

 

"Ad!"

 

Oh no, thought Adwynyth at the enraged Twi'lek scream. She mentally counted down to the bundle of lekku and anger that was about to kick her door open: 4... 3... >WHAM< Wow...she's getting faster. It was the middle of the night, and Vette was probably just now going to bed.

 

"Did you destroy 2V and hide the parts in my bed AGAIN?!" She threw the severed head on Adwynyth's bed for effect.

 

The young Sith had troubles looking Vette in the eye. "Well, he popped off that line about the foot massage, and I had that damn sand in my shoes..."

 

"I don't care!" She really did turn a delightful shade of purple when she was angry. "Quinn's already blamed me for this stupid pile of junk twice this week, and now he's all smug about the slave costume that you insisted I wear! You've got to take Captain Rigor-Mortis down a peg or two! You're a Sith, for Sith's sake...just give him a..." She did a very bad impression of a Force Persuade gesture. "...or something!"

 

"I can't help it...he's all..." She searched for the right word.

 

"Imperial?" supplied Vette.

 

"Yes...wait, no! That's not fair."

 

"Something wrong, my lord? Vette?" Quinn leaned in the doorway, impeccably dressed as always, even at 2am ship's time, and carrying a clipboard. Not waiting for an answer, he transitioned straight into administrivia. "Despite losing the droid twice this week, I've managed to balance the ship's books..." He saw the disembodied head of 2V on the bunk and turned a bit green.

 

Both of the half-dressed women of the ship broke up with paralyzing laughter.

 

 

Sorry...I just went through...

 

the Quinncident

 

...again, and felt like I had to torture him.

Edited by Adwynyth
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Comment time:

 

 

@Kabeone: I love T7's advice column....such a wonderful idea!!!

 

@Selentar: Taren is an interesting Jedi indeed, and this:

Also, it would have been difficult for a Dashade to simply mingle with the crowd considering that any drunken person could accidentally bump into him thus giving him an excuse for random mauling. He was not much of a diplomat.

made me giggle at the thought!

 

@Stirges: A droid romance...very well done! I laughed quite a bit. The descriptions were very well thought out. A romance between SCORPIO and HK is a little scary to think about though!

 

@Marissalf: Poor Talos....I don't want to think about what Kaliyo was doing to him! :eek:

 

@Yoshi: Tate seems like good backup indeed!

 

@Bright: General Pasty Imperial....I will never be able to look at Quinn again without thinking of that! Poor T7, he is never going to figure that out!

 

@Lesaberisa:

I felt my arm shaking. Groundquake? Is Baras attempting to move?

HAHA!!!! Also, I love Olympia's confessions! :)

 

@Adwynyth: Torture is good for Quinn....builds character and you do it so well!! I enjoyed it!

 

 

Replies:

 

 

@Kabeone:

@alaurin I love the sisters on Ord angle. Mallay and Bella seem like they would get into so much trouble together

Thanks, and there is more trouble ahead!

 

@Marissalf: That is the one annoying quality that Corso has that I can't get past, the naming of his weapons! Oh well, he is still cute though!

 

@Bright: Ord is definitely better with someone to share.

 

@Lesaberisa: Yeah, I thought Ord was depressing and thought it might be better with a friendly face.

 

 

Now, more sister trouble in Ord Mantell:

 

Title: I’d Rather Make Out With a Wookiee!

Prompt: Oh, Well That’s Awkward

Characters: Bella-smuggler, Mallay-trooper

Setting: Ord Mantell, immediately following I Hate This Planet Already

Spoilers: Smuggler and Trooper Ord Mantell

 

 

Bella and Mallay made their way into Talloran Village. On the way, Bella told Mallay about her meeting with Viidu.

 

“He wants Skavak as badly as I do. Apparently, those weapons that were stolen with my ship were for a guy called Rogun the butcher and he isn’t going to be too happy about losing his shipment. Luckily, this Reki guy in Talloran Village should have some information for us on how to find Skavak.”

 

The sisters split off to go to their respective meeting spots. Mallay was glad they had made it early after getting reprimanded for making a stop for food and water before heading out of the fort.

 

“Good luck sis,” she called out, “I hope you get the information you need!”

 

“You too, let’s meet back here when we’re done.” Bella called back.

 

A little while later, Bella watched as her sister approached, noticing that Mallay looked upset.

 

“I take it things didn’t go very well?” Bella asked.

 

“You could say that, the guy I was supposed to meet had been killed waiting for me, I got chewed out for taking too long to get here, had to tell the guy’s wife her husband was dead and ask her for his field box.”

 

“Weren’t you a little early?”

 

“Yeah, but apparently so was he, so I was right to get chewed out. It was my fault and I feel awful about it. I hated having to tell that woman that her husband had been killed. I think that was worse than any punishment I am likely to get.” Mallay admitted sadly. “Anyways, what about you? Are you any closer to finding your ship?”

 

“I hope so, I have another lead at least. That Reki guy was quite a character though. He had a horde of widowed women hiding out with him! I didn’t know whether to be disgusted with him or those women!” Bella snorted, as they left Talloran Village. “I know I tend to move on with men quickly, but I am at least honest about my views at the start and I have never had a fling with more than one man at a time!”

 

“Seriously?! He doesn’t….you know….with all of them does he?” Mallay asked, a bit disturbed by the thought.

 

“I don’t know and I want to keep it that way!”

 

“Speaking of flings, you still planning on having one with that Corso guy?” Bella had filled Mallay in on Corso during the trip to Talloran.

 

“I don’t know, he is kinda sexy, but I am not sure about him yet,” Bella admitted, “and honestly, I can’t wait to get off this planet so I am not sure I want to stick around, even for a brief fling.”

 

“Same here,” Mallay sighed, “The sooner I can get away from that ball busting Cathar and his superiority complex, the better I will feel. I hate those types that feel like they have to treat the younger troops like they are wet behind the ears. I swear, it is all I can do to hold my tongue around him. I mean, I know I am not as experienced as his highness is, but that doesn’t make me stupid.”

 

Bella looked at Mallay thoughtfully, “You know, the last time a guy got under your skin this bad was Zach Waverly.”

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“Well, you were going off about him to me, just like this, and about two weeks later, I caught you making out with him in the barn.”

 

“Oh please!” Mallay snorted, “Trust me, that isn’t going to happen with Lieutenant Jorgan….I’d rather make out with a wookiee!!”

 

Bella giggled, “You know we aren’t in the fort right?”

 

“So?”

 

“Didn’t you tell me that your armor cam activated whenever you left the fort?”

 

“Dammit!” Mallay blushed.

 

“Hey, you are done with your mission right? Maybe no one was paying attention.” Bella looked thoughtful, “You know, you could try flirting a little. I usually find men are a lot more eager to please when I flirt a little.”

 

“You know I am not good at flirting right? Besides, I don’t exactly have your assets, sis.” Mallay retorted as they approached the entrance to Fort Garnik.

 

Bella laughed, “You just have to learn to use what you’ve got! I have been telling you that for a while now!”

 

They parted ways, promising to contact each other when they were finished and Mallay headed in to the base to face the music. I really hope no one was paying attention to what I was saying!

 

Aric Jorgan watched Sargent Lauren enter the room, trying to decide on just how to pay her back for that little outburst to her sister. Luckily, Fuse had been the only other one to hear it and they agreed to keep it between them. For some reason, the whole ‘rather make out with a wookie’ comment bothered him the most. He thought he was a reasonably attractive man and he didn’t think he had been that hard on her, no more than any other hot shot, spec forces rookie. He caught her eye and noticed her blush immediately, shocked to realize that he found that attractive. Easy there Jorgan, she isn’t for you.

 

“Sargent, I hope you have the field box!” he barked at her, “Maybe next time you can bring in a live agent.” Oh, I am going to enjoy this, he thought as he noticed her hands shaking a little as she handed him the box. “Something bothering you, Sargent? You look a little anxious. Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

“No sir! I am fine, nothing wrong here, nothing at all.” Mallay stammered, a little thrown off by his concern. Stop babbling idiot, she told herself.

 

“You sure Sargent? You’re looking a little red. Maybe a drink,” then he gave her a wicked smile, “or perhaps I can find you a wookiee to make out with.”

 

Mallay felt her face grow hot and stammered out an apology. From now on, I am going to just keep my mouth shut she thought to herself as she got her next assignment from Fuse.

 

 

Note:

 

Aric Jorgan really irritated me in the beginning, but he did eventually grow on me! I think they did a great job with him though. Mallay's reactions are pretty close to what mine would have been. I don't think I would ever have survived the military! :p

 

Edited by alaurin
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Happy anniversary, SFC! :D

 

Planes, Trains and Thrantamobiles for Mellekor and Vette at the end of Mellekor’s class line. Vette excused herself from his hopelessly DS presence sometime in Act 2; the threat that the class 3 antagonist posed to anyone and everyone Mellekor cared for prompted him to invite her to his side again. Spoilers for Warrior Act 3. 200 words.

 

 

 

Vette was waiting out on the landing pad beside Mellekor's ship. He walked to meet her uprightly and confidently as he could in spite of the burns and two deep cuts sustained during his battle with Darth Baras.

 

"Hail the conquering hero," she said, and though her voice was flat her eyes spoke relief at the sight of him. "Baras de-Voiced?"

 

"Permanently silenced," he confirmed.

 

"Great!" said Vette. "Congratulations! I'll find my own way home."

 

"Vette, don't be foolish. I can–"

 

"You've got a lot to do," she said flatly. "I'll catch a fleet shuttle and be outta your way."

 

Her manner said she would hear no argument. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be of help. "Do you have the credits for the journey? I can–"

 

"I'm fine," she said, looking at Jaesa and then back at Mellekor. "Actually, looks like the shuttle's incoming, so I'll just go for their landing pad. Bye!"

 

She hefted a bag he hadn't even realized was beside her, and jogged away.

 

His heart sank more than he cared to think about as he stood rooted, watching her go. Watching for her safety. Korriban was a treacherous place. Of course he wanted her away from it, and safe. One impertinent slave couldn’t be of importance to his new life, anyway.

 

Of course.

 

 

 

Droids with Vette and Sith Inquisitor Ananz/Darth Imperius in the Mellekor!verse. This takes place a little over a year after Mellekor’s class line ends. 1300 words, no game spoilers.

 

 

 

“So.” Ananz faced Vette over the holo. He was getting better about not getting tongue-tied calling her. And she and her gang seemed to like him all right. It was all a little too good to be real. He didn’t care. “I’ll be local in a few days…”

 

"Gonna be out of town next week, actually. I’m hitting up Belsavis - big hush-hush, but there's a tomb I found with the Wrath a ways back and I think I'm finally ready to go clear it out."

 

Ananz blinked at the Twi’lek who was, though technically more than half his size, far less than half his power. "You? By yourself?"

 

Vette made a face at him. "I'm good at sneaking," she said. "Besides, nobody else really wanted to volunteer for the prison planet."

 

"I could come with you. Stars, that place would tear a lone person apart."

 

"Huh. You mean it?"

 

"Of course I do. If it's treasure you're after, my contacts may know some things even you don't. And you'll be much better equipped to deal with the natives if you have me."

 

"I won't argue with that. Okay. How's next Tuesday?"

 

*

 

She met him at Mezenti Spaceport and let him lead the way. "So...that's my ship," he said as he conducted her into the hangar. The vessel in question was a sleek fighter not unlike what Mellekor had flown. There was a reminder Vette didn't need. "It’s been through a lot with me. Probably doesn’t look like much, but it gets me where I need to go."

 

They reached the ramp and Vette heard a metallic voice within. "There you are! Every time you step of the ship onto the forsaken rock I'm convinced there's going to be trouble." As Vette followed Ananz into the ship, she saw a slate-grey protocol droid with an elongated, low-sweeping head leaning into the entry hall. "You're bringing a stranger on board?"

 

"It's all right, Niner. Vette's a friend."

 

"Oh." Niner tilted his head. "And I am 9-Q3K, Lord Ananz's personal droid."

 

"No 'Darth Imperius' here?" said Vette.

 

"Not from him," said Ananz. "We've known each other too long. Actually, I programmed him myself."

 

Vette surveyed the droid, duly impressed. It was a well-constructed-looking piece. "You made this?"

 

Ananz scratched at the base of his lekku, a little self-consciously. "Well, I stole him. Then reprogrammed him."

 

"You stole him?"

 

Niner nodded. "Ananz was kind enough to return to assist me out of our previous owner's domain. Serving on a pleasure barge was a dreary existence. I much prefer my current duties of keeping Ananz out of trouble. Or trying," he finished weightily. "Strange guests notwithstanding."

 

"Old friend, then," said Vette.

 

"Old friend." Ananz gestured further into the ship's hallway. "Anyway, we should get a move on."

 

"No unusual activity to report," said Niner, following the two of them as they went further in. "This being Nar Shaddaa, I'm sure terrible things are going on all over the place, but obviously nothing has managed to inconvenience you."

 

The hallway opened into a big holo room. The walls were covered in miscellany from a dozen or more worlds: freaky masks, patterned blankets, a huge ornate sword surrounded by animal horns and claws, clutter of the cultural sort from the corners of the galaxy. Ananz hadn't been kidding about being into collecting.

 

Someone appeared from a side hallway: a swarthy man with a clean-shaven head and a long, battered black jacket. He gave her a nakedly appraising look that finished with a friendly smile. "You must be Vette."

 

She saw the tattoos across one side of his head. "The pirate, huh?"

 

He laughed. "Ananz, you didn’t even give me a name?" Then he swaggered toward Vette, offering a hand. "Andronikos Revel. Captain of this heap no matter what Niner says."

 

"The ship belongs to Ananz," Niner said primly.

 

"He's the captain," said Ananz, jerking his thumb at Andronikos. "No matter what Niner says." Ananz and Andronikos exchanged a look loaded enough to compare to a fist bump.

 

Hoo boy, was there history around here.

 

Moments later a huge...thing...walked in. It overtopped even Ananz by half a foot or more. It looked humanoid, if a humanoid had fallen out of the ugly tree and hit branches Vette had never even heard of on the way down.

 

Ananz's cheer didn't dampen at all. "Khem Val, meet my friend Vette. Vette, Khem Val, my Dashade bodyguard."

 

Vette's translator struggled a little over the brute’s rumbling voice. "Tread carefully, little one," he might have said, and walked out again.

 

"So that's the crew," Ananz said jovially, just as if the giant monster hadn't finished growling an implicit threat at his guest. "Apart from Talos, but he's neck deep in prep work for the job, I'd hate to bother him. I also have a couple of apprentices, but they're out; for now it's just you, me, Andronikos, Khem, and Talos. And Niner, but he won't be going to the surface with us."

 

"Knowing you you'll be bringing half the surface back to me," grumbled Niner. "Just see to it none of it is still alive this time?"

 

"I told you I wouldn't let that happen again," Ananz said peevishly. "Go on, help Andronikos get us there, all right?" He turned back to Vette. "So, what would you like? Holovids, pazaak, dejarik?"

 

Score another for ‘more normal than her last Sith contact.’ "Haven't played dejarik in a while."

 

Ananz obligingly set up a board and settled opposite her. Vette was no expert, but she could tell when someone was playing recklessly. Ananz played like a madman. It gave him a few dramatic early captures, but Vette held out for a few strong strategic moves. She beat him neatly once, and upon a rematch had a longer struggle with the same effect.

 

Ananz didn't seem to mind. "I feel like I should be taking notes. That was really good."

 

"My own natural talent and a lot of time spent beating up my friends," said Vette.

 

At length they eased out of hyperspace and into orbit. Ananz took her to the bridge to take a look at the great white planet and its isolated pockets of green; then he had Andronikos take them in.

 

A friendly little man crept out of a side hallway as they were landing. Ananz introduced him as Talos Drellik. Once the ship was on the ground Niner followed the party to the door and, after everyone was out, pointed directly at Vette. "You. If you want to make yourself useful, don't let anything happen to Lord Ananz."

 

"What am I, his mother?"

 

"If his mother were here my central coolant unit would not be nearly under the strain it is. Now go on. The sooner you're out the sooner you can come back home."

 

Vette caught up to Ananz and fell into step. "You programmed him?" she repeated, not quite laughing.

 

Ananz flushed. "He never worried this much when I first got him. I could probably memory wipe it out, but friends don't exactly reset friends' personalities, right?"

 

"I dunno, I can think of some people who could use it." Mellekor sprang to mind, Mellekor who had been harsh but relatively reasonable before he decided he had to live up to his Wrathy name.

 

But he was out of her life. She determinedly set the thought of him aside. "Well," she said, "I do think it's sweet that you brought me to meet your mommy."

 

"Oh, my stars, don't even..." Ananz quickened his steps. "Hey, Talos," he called, "what do you think of a change of subject?"

 

 

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Prompt day! And I'd like to offer props to elliotcat for the great idea that has since grown out of all control. Mwahahaha.

 

Week of 5/31/2013

In honor of the SFC reaching the one-year mark, think about Anniversaries. Some dates are remembered and celebrated; others are remembered and reviled. From the fresh anniversary of something that happened just a year ago to the enduring remembrance of holidays for cultures and nations, people often mark the date and do something to observe the occasion. Write about an anniversary or significant holiday in your character's life.

 

And, as ever,

Night of the Living Prompt: Keep on using any prompt you like! Check out the list at http://www.swtor.com/community/showpost.php?p=5223753&postcount=1675.

This week's featured NotLP:

Allies - When something huge is going down, or just when you need a hand, who can you call that you know is going to have your back? Whether it's someone completely unlikely or exactly what you'd expect, who can you ultimately always rely on?

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Kabe, that is so adorable!! <3

 

Adwynyth, Torturing Quinn needs no excuse *cues evil laughter*

 

Lesaberisa, Somehow you managed to make that kid frightening and adorable in his Sith hero worship. Nicely done. Also,

@marissalf: Now I'm imagining Talos and Kaliyo adventuring together. Glorious? Terrible? Terribly glorious?

I vote terribly glorious...and now I really wanna make that happen. :D

 

Alaurin, I would have liked this for the title alone, haha! That must be horrifying for Mallay to get caught in that outburst.

 

Bright, Oh I feel so badly for Vette, but it’s nice for her to get to bond with Ananz and his crew in the second one.

 

Sisterhood, pt. 2 for Kinka Part 1 is here

 

Kinka pulled up the fur-lined hood of her coat as she and Kaliyo left the shelter of Leth outpost. A thick layer of menacing clouds painted over the once beautiful blue sky, and the blowing snow had reduced visibility to mere feet. How quickly things can change.

 

Kaliyo scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it at the agent. “You threaten the girl into submission?”

 

That had been the plan. Remind the scientist of the great powers of Intelligence, put a little fear into her so she'd leave her sister alone. Instead, the encounter left Kinka shaken. “She had no idea who I was.”

 

“Yeah, and?”

 

Kinka stopped and took her by the arm. “No, you don’t understand. She didn’t know my face. She’d never heard of my sister. She doesn’t even know Talos.” A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I need more information. I’m going back to Vekkz’s, but I’ve got to make a stop first. Head back and make sure everything’s OK, will you? I don’t like this.”

 

Kaliyo scowled. “You owe me, agent. If I lose a toe—”

 

“Just do it, Kaliyo!” She was all out of patience for her surly remarks. Kaliyo hadn’t been her first (or even third) choice to come with her to Hoth. Had Vector, Temple and Dr. Lokin not been laid up with the Tarisian flu...had it not been Vekkz who needed her...Kaliyo would still be on the ship and far away from her personal life.

 

Kaliyo gave the agent an exaggerated salute and trudged toward the speeder pad, making a few lewd gestures as she went. She was going, though. That was all that mattered.

 

In the meantime, Kinka boarded a transport for Dorn base. She knew a slicer that owed her a favor and finally had reason to cash in. Actually, Dorian Faiye didn’t so much owe her a favor as have a bit of a crush on the agent. They’d run into each other off and on over the years, most recently during her last tour of the ice planet. Time had only bolstered his infatuation, and she caught him staring longingly at her more than a couple times when they were in the same space.

 

“Dorian? Is that you?” Kinka’s voice rose an octave as she sauntered up behind him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder and bending down to purr his name in his ear.

 

He beamed at the sound of her voice. “Well, if it isn’t my lovely agent friend. You look better and better every time I see you.”

 

She forced herself to smile back, hating that she had to manipulate him this way. He was a good guy, didn’t deserve to be jerked around. “I could say the same for you,” she cooed. Yes, he was a good guy, but she needed the information more than she cared about sparing his feelings.

 

“What brings you back to Hoth? Can’t imagine you’d be itching for a simple visit.” He was out of his chair now, standing a bit closer to her than he should.

 

Kinka pretended not to notice, laughing carelessly and lightly stroking his arm. “It never is simple, is it?” She subtly licked her lips and moved an inch closer to him before getting down to business. “You know, I was wondering if you still knew how to do all those computer tricks like you used to. I’m looking for some information, and I just don’t have the resources.”

 

He grinned and motioned for her to sit with him. “Anything you want, I’m your man.” He rolled over to the console and pulled her chair next to him.

 

“You can do facial recognition searches through the holonet now, can’t you? I’m looking for anything that has my face attached to it, going back five years. I’ve gotten a scar since then, so you may have to widen your parameters a bit.”

 

“You got it.” He set to work, a thing to behold really, his fingers deftly punching keys to sort through billions of secret and not-so secret files. It was impressive, but boring, work. An hour later, the frenzied activity came to a halt.

 

Dorian sheepishly looked up from the terminal. “I found what you’re looking for, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

 

“It’s alright, I’m prepared for bad." He looked at her expectantly, but she had nothing for him. Never would. "Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to look at this in private. Do you mind giving me a few minutes? And keeping this visit between us? I’d really be grateful.”

 

“Sure thing," he said with a grin. "But if anyone asks...”

 

Kinka smiled, a real one this time. “You do remember what line of work I’m in, don’t you? I’m fairly good at thinking on my feet.”

 

The slicer left for the mess hall, and Kinka sifted through the records. Most held nothing useful, just Vekkz receiving an award, speaking at a lecture series, laughing at a party. Kinka flicked back to the image from the party, taking a closer look. Vekkz was surrounded by a trio of men in mid-toast. She could just make out the Republic insignia on one of their sleeves. Oh, kark. The last damning piece of evidence was a kill/capture order issued by Sith Intelligence that had been issued a week ago. They knew everything; Vekkz had been branded a traitor.

 

Kinka tossed a nearby cup of water on the terminal to fry the circuits and dashed for the transport, not stopping to say goodbye or explain the broken equipment to Dorian Fraiye. The only thing that mattered now was Vekkz. She couldn’t be a traitor. Something had to be wrong. Forged holos maybe. Someone wanting to make a power play against their mother. She couldn’t really be defecting to the Republic.

 

The transport moved too slowly for Kinka’s worried mind. She was certain she could get back to the scientists’ domiciles faster by tauntaun at the rate it was going. Every second she was gone — that she didn’t have answers — meant Vekkz was at risk. Kinka had no real ties to the new Intelligence organization, no pull with whomever they’d send to terminate her sister. Her only hope was to get there first.

 

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Prompt - Anniversaries

Title - Dark Dreams

Class - Sith Warrior

Major spoilers

 

 

"He's dead," Methic said.

 

He sat up in bed, holding his head in his hands. He shoved back his long, black hair out of his eyes; the hair normally held in a small tail. Vette rolled over in bed beside him, frowning. She looked up at him, her eyes crusted from sleep.

 

"Who?" Vette rasped.

 

"Darth Baras," Methic replied. "I killed him."

 

Vette nodded. "Yeah. So?"

 

"It's...been a year." He grunted.

 

Vette nodded, and Methic rose out of bed. Clad only in breeches that dropped below his knees, he walked to the corner of the room and retrieved his black robe. He pulled it over him and turned to look at Vette.

 

"Why did I kill him?" he muttered.

 

"Why not?" Vette demanded.

 

"It's not me," Methic said. "I spared everyone who crossed me, or even those I was commanded to kill for no reason. Tremel, Nomen Karr, Timmns, even Quinn. They all gave me reason to kill them, or if they didn't, someone else did for them. Yet I spared them. But I killed Baras."

 

Vette smiled. "It's because he was a threat," she said. "From prison, of from exile, he could have still reached out and hurt you. Could have gathered his own army, like the Dread Masters are doing now. Dead, he can't."

 

"Are you sure?" Methic muttered. "Are you sure he can't reach me...even from the grave?"

 

Vette shuddered. "Don't want to think about that."

 

"Me either."

 

"Good. All right then, back to bed. Got more Sith-y business to do tomorrow."

 

Methic threw his robe back off and sat down on the bed. He patted her hand before lying down. He pulled the covers over him.

 

"Good night, Vette. I love you."

 

 

 

Methic's not a killer. Unfortunately, he happens to agree with the Empire's ideals more than the Republic's being raised as son of a king. He grew to expect the kind of royal treatment he got, while Jasin, who joined the Jedi, resented it, which is why he fit the Republic and Jedi mindsets better. Gareb's a Jedi because he was raised as a staunch traditionalist, and his family was firmly in the Republic's camp.

 

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Character: Amitia

Prompt: Anniversaries

Note: Set after the end of the class story, so major JK story spoilers

 

 

"I can't believe it's been a year since Dromund Kaas. A year since we fought the Emperor, a year since we defeated him. It feels like it has been a lifetime."

 

"T7 + Jedi = unstoppable force of galactic righteousness // T7 = proud victor over the Emperor." He gave a triumphant whistle.

 

I smiled slightly, but that smile faded.

 

"I feel older now, T7, tired, run-down. I don't know if it's the time I was the Emperor's captive or the fight we had against him. I wish I knew, but I just don't." I sighed softly, then rubbed my hand over the top of his chassis. "I feel....less than whole, like some part of me is missing."

 

T7 let loose with a mournful beep boop.

 

"T7 = would like to help // T7 + Jedi are team forever. T7 = will consider taking up amateur psychiatry // T7 + Jedi will solve problem."

 

The smile returned. "Maybe we will." I rested my head against the wall and took a deep breath. I needed some chocolate.

 

 

Character: Ayrs

Prompt: Anniversaries

Notes: Set on Ord Mantell, just prior to the final in-game mission. The Kuat bit will come up again later.

 

 

Five years. Five years since fire raged in the skies and homes of Ithaca. Five years since I had lost my family, my friends, my home. Five years since I had sworn to do something about it. Five years in which I have failed to do anything at all.

 

The holo-image of my family came back into view. It'd been taken on a family trip off-world, the only time I could remember ever doing so until i left for the academy. Ally had been only two, but still proved to be the biggest handful of the four of us. She always was. I smiled wistfully, then gulped down some more of the beer. Pop had gone off on his mission only a few years later, we lost him then. I lost everyone else too.

 

Today always snuck up on me, every year. I wasn't sure if it was because I had enough going on in my life that I wasn't focusing too much on it, or a self-defense mechanism to avoid dealing with it. I was sure the doc back on Corulag would have his theories, but I figured it didn't matter much either way, not unless it was affecting my performance, and I'd been performing even beyond Tavus' expectations.

 

I took a swig of beer, then turned back to the image of my family. It was getting harder to see since something was irritating my eyes and making them watery. I went down to a knee and made the same vow I had for five years running.

 

"I will find the ones responsible. For the lives stolen, the homes broken, the world devastated, the friends and family lost. I will make them understand the pain they have caused and ensure they cannot inflict it on any one else again.

 

I will have the vengeance I desire. They will have the justice they deserve. We will all have the peace we need.

 

I swear this by the Maker, by the Force my father served and the Republic my mother did."

 

Some day, I hoped I wouldn't need to remember it.

 

I glanced over at my holoterminal and saw another message from Kuat. They meant well, but I didn't have time for them. Not today, of all days. Besides, I needed to be up early for the mission so we could get off this hellhole. One last swig of ale, and I was ready for sleep. Maybe I'll call them tomorrow. Or maybe not, we'll see.

 

That night, I dreamed of home.

 

 

And since that's a lot of negative stuff for him lately...

 

Prompt: Legacy

Notes: Set in the far future

 

 

Gina had insisted this tour would do me good; I didn't see the point in visiting some minor planet in the Outer Rim, but I had to admit the scenery was nice. Green foliage, pleasant for outdoor activities, decent beer. And, for Gina, some intriguing historical archives and museums full of artifacts from days long since forgotten.

 

Today, we were viewing a holographic gallery of past kings, some more impressive than others. I'd never heard of any of them, but Gina seemed excited by the whole thing, so who was I to complain?

 

I looked at one pair of holograms, a couple hand in hand. The man, wearing an archaic Republic uniform, was hardly imposing, and unlike the others, he was look at her rather than staring imperiously forward. "How come this one's different?"

 

The guide smiled at that. "He doesn't look like a king because he wasn't one. He was our most famous son, our greatest champion. He was lost to us, you know, lost on that terrible day, all those years ago. Some even say that he lost himself for awhile. But he found himself, found a strength to live again. He was a hero to us, to the Republic, to the free people everywhere."

 

He paused, then continued. "He never forgot where he came from, what made him who he was. And, eventually, he found his way home."

 

Another pause. "And...he never forgot us. It is only fair that we never forget him."

 

"Or his wife," Gina added, helpfully.

 

I looked more closely at the inscription.

 

Here lie Ayrs and Elara Martell.

 

In the face of fear, hope.

In the face of despair, courage.

In the face of darkness, love.

 

A lone candle can hold back the darkness. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars

 

I felt Gina slip her hand into mine. I squeezed it. She was looking more beautiful than ever.

 

 

Minor notes:

So I stole a line from the Revenge of the Sith novel, I saw it posted elsewhere on the forum and absolutely love it so :p. Not sure this is exactly what things will be like in the far future, but it's something more pleasant than Ayrs moping around.

 

Edited by Lesaberisa
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Hey Everyone! Today is May 31st that means it's the SFC's Birthday. Thanks to everyone that has written and commented and kept this thread alive for a whole year.

Ahh! It's sooo cute and great! :D (and I'm there that makes me so happy :') :o)

Happy belated Birthday SFC!

I shall take this opportunity to say I have read, loved and enjoyed everything posted over the last year. :) I'm sorry I don't say it very much. :o

 

And ahh... guess I should post something now... this has sat on my computer for a while and vaugely added to every now and again and I think it's pretty much finished (though finished doesn't always mean 'great'. :rolleyes: I enjoyed writing it though and I guess that's part of what matters. :rolleyes:)

Prompt: NotLP - Confessions, Bad/good memories, Bad Timing.

Class: Smuggler (named Audra. Recently appeared for a moment in my thread 'The Life That's Left')

Words: 3,500 (I know, that's long.)

No spoilers. Set late into Act 2 or at its end (it really doesn't matter).

 

She stumbles out of the cantina's dark entrance. The men at the door don't even glance at her as she gasps at every step, slightly limping and pressing one hand to a wound at her thigh. But the hand doesn't help or slow the blood. It still finds a way to seep through her clothes and trickle through her fingers. The other hand claws helplessly at air, wanting to find support. She knows she can't make it much further. Maybe tonight is the night.

 

She rests against a pole ten metres away from the entrance and looks around for the first time, hoping no one is there to see or attack her. She's taken off guard by the sight of the only other person around and that is rapidly approaching her from what was there vantage point.

 

'Corso...' she begins in confusion as he tries to look at her wound.

 

She slaps his hand away and quickly presses her own against it again. He silently moves his right arm under her arms to support her.

 

'What are you doing here?' the smuggler eventually lets out after her mind becomes clearer.

 

Corso looks down into her green eyes that shine bright in the dark. She notices how close his face is to hers and she struggles against him. He only holds her closer, determined to not let her hurt herself or fall.

 

'What I'm always doing. I'm waiting to save you.'

 

She makes a small, sharp squeak that was meant to be a derisive snort. He regards her with concern and curiosity. His eyes are too warm and gentle like hot cocoa and he patiently begins to lead her through the cold night to their ship.

 

So you're my fateful Jedi Knight in silver robes, huh? she thinks with amused scorn.

 

'If I wasn't very, very drunk, with a concussion, a shot leg and broken ribs I think I would tell you to shove your chivalry and compassion up your ***,' she righteously spits as she stumbles. Her head is beginning to feel lighter and unconsciousness is pulling her eyelids down.

 

'I don't doubt you, Captain. Now why don't you just be still and silent while I...' He scoops her up into his arms and expects protest. None comes. She leans against his warm, thudding chest and he can't help but beam a grin to the dark and empty streets.

 

'Don't get to cocky there, farm boy,' she mumbles into his shirt. It's a new experience and one he wants to have repeated again and again only hopefully later under better circumstances.

 

She shivers a little and he holds her closer.

 

'Almost there, Captain. Almost there. Don't go to sleep,' Corso gently tells her when he notices her closed eyes. He shakes her a little as he keeps walking and hurries his steps as much as possible without shaking her too badly.

 

'I'm not asleep. I can take another round,' she whispers. She wants to shout the words but can't find the strength and it hurts a little to breathe. And she's cold, so cold.

 

'I don't want to disagree with you, Captain, but I don't think you can.'

 

She only shakes her head in reply and snakes an arm around his back, pressing her chest and head closer against him. He blushes faintly at the thoughts it provokes. In between watching his feet and ahead for enemies, he watches her and every now and again tells her to stay awake.

 

Why is the blasted port so far away? he curses in worry.

 

Corso can feel her warm blood trickling down his right arm where it dries into a sticky trail. She's losing too much but he can't stop and fix it now. He doesn't have anything on him anyway and neither does she. He hadn't thought when he left the ship. He only knew he couldn't let her walk out there alone. This time he would be there. This time he wouldn't be a shadow in the ship that watches her skulk like a wounded animal through the ship. This time he had to do something.

 

For some insanity he can't explain, all he can think amongst his worried thoughts is how much he wants to brush her charcoal fringe back from her closed eyes. He takes the chance to look at her long eye lashes and closed lids that hide green eyes that shine with a stubborn independence and cunning ferocity. He takes in her perfect complexion of fair skin and pink lips.

 

He stumbles and shakes his head.

 

'Keep your eyes on the road, farm boy,' she mumbles.

 

He blushes deeper and refuses to look at her. She watches his reaction with weary amusement between almost closed eyelids. She bites her tongue to hold in the scream of pain that threatens to escape her as she is shaken by another stumble and keeps a grimace from tearing across her face. She's better than to let the pain of a blasted thigh show. But it does hurt: her head, her leg, her heart. They all hurt and his sweet compassion is an antagonist she doesn't need.

 

Corso carries her the rest of the way to the spaceport. His arms will ache in the morning and a blaster rifle will seem almost impossibly heavy to carry but he won't regret the decision even when it earns him pouting glares from the Captain for a week.

 

When he places her on his bed from not having access to her room, he has to lightly shake her to keep her awake.

 

Risha enters and asks what happened. Her genuine concern for the Captain's health takes him a little off guard.

 

'The usual as far I know. We need kolto patches, stims and pain killers.'

 

'Yes, sir,' she mocks before leaving.

 

Corso frowns, shakes his head and stays by her, watching, and doesn't let her fall asleep. She groans at every shake and every 'stay awake, Captain'. He softly moves her fringe back from her eyes and waits.

 

Risha comes back and places the supplies on the ground next to him. He blushes as he realises they'll need to remove her pants to attend the wound.

 

'Risha, would you mind...'

 

'Scared of a naked woman, farm boy?' the Captain mumbles.

 

Corso shakes his head and smiles. 'You know that aint true, Cap'ain.' It calms his growing anxiety that she can still speak, think and tease.

 

Corso stands and turns away, walking to the corner of the room. He's taken them off before but that's different. He had her permission that time. Risha calls him back when the Captain is discreetly hidden by a sheet. He nods her away and attends to the wound himself.

 

When the stims and pain killers have taken effect and he's still working on the wound, he feels she is ready to talk a little.

 

'So what happened, Captain?' Corso casually.

 

'Usual. They accused me of cheating, I said I wasn't, they said they wanted their credits back, I said they would have to take them from me, they said they didn't want to fight and humiliate a woman, I said that's because they were too scared to try.'

 

'Who blasted first?' Corso asks as if that changes anything.

 

'I did. I was doing alright until another two men joined in. Ah!' She exclaims in pain when Corso places kolto over the stitching.

 

'That fracking hurt, Corso!'

 

'Sorry,' he mumbles, frowning in concentration as her smears kolto over her leg. When he is done putting a patch over the top, he rolls the sheet down. He glances at her when he blushes at the feel of his fingers trailing down her smooth leg. She hasn't noticed. She's slipped into sleep or unconsciousness again.

 

Corso moves closer to her head.

 

'Captain,' he calls quietly. Her eyes almost open and her lips part but that's all. He shakes her gently by the shoulders. 'Captain, don't you dare go to sleep on me,' he desperately begs when her eyes open but remain unfocused.

 

'Come on, Captain, wake up.' He pats her cheek lightly and it seems to help. 'Concentrate on me, Captain. Look at me.'

 

'Corso, why am I half naked?' She goes for a smile and to sit up but winces and her eyes close again. Corso manages to move his arms under her back and ease her down before she can fall back.

 

'I didn't think you would be the type to take advantage of an unconscious lady,' she mumbles with another faint smile.

 

Corso pulls her shirt high enough to see the already darkening bruise on torso. His fingers move to her ribcage to feel the damage.

 

'Not a time for joking, Captain.'

 

'Think it's the best time,' she gasps again, 'for joking.'

 

'Shu-' he stops the reproach he would give to a man and not a lady. 'Shush, Captain. You're not helping.'

 

'Did you just 'shush' your Captain?' Her lips twist into a faint smirk: a shadow of the real thing.

 

Corso continues to feel her ribcage for damage and she bites back a scream as he touches a broken rib.

 

'I did, Captain, and I'll do it again if you don't shut it and let me heal you.'

 

'Ooo a bit commanding there, Corso.' Her words are so faint he almost misses them. 'I think I like you taking control.'

 

Corso shakes his head and can't help but grin. Woman is incorrigible. He glances at her again and sees her eyes closed.

 

'Come back to me, Captain. You can't sleep yet.'

 

'Who are you, my mother?' she mumbles indignantly.

 

Corso chuckles and begins doing what he can to mend the fractured rib.

 

'How did you know I'd need help?' she asks soberly. Her eyes belie the pain she's in: they stare at him with a curious accusation and nothing close to gratitude.

 

'Intuition,' he replies as he looks back to her wound.

 

'Corso, I'm pissed, shot and beaten but not stupid. I can still smell bantha **** from a mile away.'

 

'Alright, Captain,' he begins. He pauses to consider how to begin. 'I've been aware for a while what you've been doing every night since we got the ship back and when I saw you leaving...'

 

The memory of the expression on her face as she picked up her blaster with a content smile, the sad and final way she touched the door frame and before giving him one last, gracefully dismissive wave as he stood half naked in her bedroom doorway comes to his mind as if he still standing vulnerable and uneasily there. He knew that tonight was a lot different. But he can't say this. It stings a part of him and his pride to even think of it. After everything, that's all he was worth: a single wave of delicate, seductive fingers and a smile of 'thanks for the good times'. There's only so much that even he can take.

 

'Just thought tonight you would need a hand.'

 

'And what did you think? I made a new pass time in breaking rontos?'

 

'I thought for a while you were... staying out with other men, but then I started to notice the bandages and strange new bruises not gotten in combat that you'd come back with every night.'

 

'You didn't just think I just had a taste for abusive men?'

 

'I did actually for a while,' Corso admits with only a little bit of sheepishness. 'But then when I was going through our accounts list I saw a lot of early visits to med centres and large deposits into the accounts at similar times.'

Corso's finished bandaging her ribs and doing what he could. That isn't much. He doesn't pull her shirt down. He feels the touch would only make her angrier. He shakes his head and moves to sit with his back against the beds edge. He keeps his eyes on her.

 

'And do you feel better or worse knowing that your lady is out gambling and rough housing instead of sleeping around?' she asks with scorn and a raised brow.

 

'It's none of my business, Captain. You made it clear you weren't my lady.'

 

'Then you shouldn't of been snooping!' she shouts. She gasps after and writhes a little trying to find a position where the pain will go away. But that's something she has learnt: the pain never goes away.

 

'I'm sorry, Captain, but I won't stop making sure you don't hurt yourself even if you aren't my lady.'

 

'I never asked you to, Corso, and I don't need you to,' she heatedly scorns through gasps.

 

'Except for tonight, Captain,' he solemnly points out.

 

'No! Not even tonight.'

 

'Don't go being stubborn, Captain.'

 

'And don't you go taking liberties that don't belong to you. You have your blaster back. There's nothing to keep you here. I think it's time you left.'

 

It's the first time she's ever said that. Risha has her fortune, Corso has his blaster... why won't they just leave? She can't give them anything but adventure and most likely more than a few life threatening encounters. They have nothing to offer her than more guilt.

 

'I have you to keep me here, Audra. Have the past months meant nothing to you?'

 

'Less than nothing,' she replies with poisonous apathy. 'I told you that you would get hurt and you are. The past months have been a blast, Corso, but I'm not changing.'

 

'I don't want you to. I only want you to let me protect you. You're my Captain.'

 

She shakes her head and gives him the warm, disbelieving and indulgent smile that the old and experienced give to the young and foolish. She can't stay cold when he's so close, so warm and so steadfast.

 

'You're impossible, Corso,' she congratulates with pride.

 

He doesn't smile back. He's tired of that look that people give him. He hates it on her. He isn't a boy and she should definitely know it by now.

 

'Why do you even do it, Captain?'

 

'Truth?' she asks after a pause.

 

'Truth,' he confirms.

 

'I guess it's because one night I hope a thug will get lucky and I won't make it back to the ship. It's been so many years... I wouldn't of made it back tonight if you hadn't been there.'

 

Corso takes it with gratitude - a strange thank you - and seemed to not hear or think of anything she'd said before. He didn't hear the begrudging note in her warm scotch voice or see the loathing that shadowed her eyes for a moment. He didn't want to.

 

'And I always will be, Captain,' he assures with the genuine heart of a young love sick hound. She can't understand how he's stayed like that despite everything.

 

'Sure you will, farm boy.' Her scepticism wounds him and she sees it.

 

'Do you want to know a secret, Corso?' She doesn't for a reply. Pain killers, guilt or something else makes her share something she's never told anyone but the air of her empty, dark room.

 

'I didn't want to get this ship back.'

 

'I thought you loved this ship, Captain!'

 

She begins a laugh but lets it fade into a sigh. 'I loved and married the man that owned it.' She considers Corso for a moment as she shakes her head. 'Don't look so sad, Corso. He's been dead for five years.'

 

'I'm sorry, Captain. How'd he die?'

 

'That's a sad and irrelevant story for another night.' She unbearably waves her hand good bye to seven years of history and looks to the far wall of her room, knowing her sight will never be further or clearer.

 

'Alright, Captain. Why'd you tell me you won it in a bet?'

 

'Because I did. He made a bet with his life and lost. I got the ship and everything else he had.' Her husband calculated the odds and he was just unlucky. After all, there isn't anything but luck in this galaxy.

 

'But why'd you come after Skavak then?' Corso persists.

 

'Because of you. I thought 'ah, this could be fun' or something like that.'

 

'Nothing more than fun?' There's a stern glumness in his voice and a certain masculine weight on his shoulders that sag under her persistent rejection.

 

'What more is there?' she asks with a shrug. The motions moves her head and for a moment her world spins.

 

'There is more, Captain. I want to show you just how much more, if you'll give me the chance.'

 

She doesn't say anything for a while and her eyes are unfocused onto something far away. A strange whimper escapes her throat her delicate fingers touch her ribs but her mind has travelled to the past and is untroubled by the wounds of the present.

 

She's looking into the eyes of a gorgeous, dark man that stands like the Supreme Chancellor on top of his ship. He springs along the ships top and then jumps from the edge, breaking into a run as soon as his feet touch the ground. He takes her hand that is smeared with oil and dances her to the cargo ramp, her hair and head spinning but her eyes trying to never leave his warm, confident and assuring black eyes.

 

'I had a man once that said he could show me the galaxy. We went around it twice and I've seen the **** people have to live in and I've seen the rich that spit down on them. I've seen the skies of almost a hundred worlds and spent nights on floating cities. I've seen everything there is worth seeing and experienced everything that shouldn't be experienced. 'Fun' is the best I have time for and 'fun' is the only thing worthwhile.'

 

'I know you don't believe that, Captain. I don't know why you do any of it but I know most of what we do out there on these planets isn't 'fun'.'

 

She can't say anything.

 

'I know it isn't great out there but we can make it better. Or when we can't, we'll still have each other at the end of the long days. 'Fun' doesn't always mean doin' good, Captain, and doing good feels a hell of a lot better.'

 

'We aren't all good little farm boys,' she eventually says. Her eyes have returned to the wall.

 

'I can't see a farm boy in this room, Captain. Can you?' he replies evenly.

 

'I can't remember. Why don't you take your clothes off and remind me?' She asks suggestively. She can't do anything but this. She can't...

 

'No, Captain, not tonight. Think it's ok for you to go to sleep now.'

 

She gives him a sharp defiant look that lets him know that IF she does it is only because she wants to and not because he said so. She moves stiffly more from defiance than her wounds down into the blankets. She doesn't roll from her back. Within two minutes, she is asleep and he lets out a heavy sigh and then a groan burying his face in his hands.

 

'Corso,' she calls in a whisper. He opens an eye and peaks through his fingers to look at her. She has her eyes closed still and her breathing is soft and deep.

 

'No matter what I ever do or say, don't give up on me. I... I'll be ready some day, Corso. Please wait that long.'

 

'I will. And when you realise, I'll ask you what took you so long.'

 

'Good man. Now I only hope that when I wake up I won't remember this conversation,' she groans and restlessly moves her head in a shake.

 

I don't, Corso thinks. He reaches out a hand brushes her hair back from her eyes. His fingers feel the slight fever of her forehead. He brushes his fingers on her flushed cheeks and know she's in for a uneasy night. She looks so volatile and weak when she sleeps. Maybe that's why she tries to get so little.

 

Corso looks over to the wall without seeing it. So you were married, Captain? he thinks. What was he like? What were you like? Did you live like this back then? He thought there might of been something like that. He'd seen the two rings on a silver chain under her pillow. When she sleeps, she always sleep with a hand under her pillow and he always knew that she was holding her sad secret in a tight fist.

 

He looks to her open hands that lie above the sheet. What was the bet, Audra? How could he do that to you? What was so important or desirable he risked leaving you? I could never do it, Corso decides. Not for anything could he risk losing her once he had her.

 

'I love you.'

 

He didn't mean to spit the words out in that warm comforting voice. It was just what he thought and the words banged on his teeth like a wild ronto until he let them out.

 

She doesn't reply and when he looks at her, he sees her eyes are closed and her breathing is deeper. She didn't hear, he thinks dazedly. He will tell her again when the time is right.

 

He will wait however long he needs to, to hear her say she's loves him.

 

 

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If only we had custom avatars; I'd totally use the kabe chibi over my current one. It is a pretty awesome anniversary; I've been lurking here for most of it, although I rarely post, to my eternal chagrin.

 

Speaking of 'rarely posting', that one single story on the index looked awfully ronery, so I made a friend for it! One of these days, I'm going to have to write a character that doesn't have anxiety...

 

Prompt: Anniversaries

Title: Threnody

Character: Marade

Class Spoilers: Jedi Knight (Act I and II) (major)

 

The apprentice cleared the sleep from her bleary eyes and rolled over on her pallet, doing her best to shake the cobwebs away from her mind.

 

Then she caught sight of the chrono and immediately slumped back down again. Two and a half hours. If she was only going to be able to steal sleep in tiny increments, she'd be exhausted before the ship even got to Svivren.

 

She still couldn't understand how her Master could do it - catch Zs at every downtime and in every conceivable location, from foxholes to feather beds. It was nearly a year since she'd become a Jedi Knight and she still didn't really have the hang of things like hibernation trances.

 

Slowly, through the fog in her brain that still refused to dissipate, the apprentice realized why she was awake in the first place: somebody was making noise on the ship. Somebody who was quietly singing a painfully off-key version of an old Corellian drinking song...

 

She sat upright, shaking her head, and padded across her room to throw on a robe. Then she quietly made her way out into the darkened ship, toward the conference room.

 

Her Master was sprawled halfway across the table, surrounded by the detritus of a few hours of carousing - mostly-empty bottles, shot glasses, and a datapad playing a recording of her Knighting ceremony on repeat. She blearily looked up as the apprentice trudged through the door, taking a slug straight from the bottle she held in her left hand as she did so. Then she resumed her inarticulate mumbling to some vague approximation of a tune.

 

The apprentice held out her hand for the bottle. "Come on, boss. It's past your bedtime."

 

The other woman slowly levered herself back from the table to recline in her chair, keeping a tight grip on her alcohol. She mumbled something else, but her own drunkenness and the apprentice's lack of sleep combined to make it all unintelligible. All the apprentice could make out was the overall tone of reproach and a word that sounded like "today".

 

"Look," she yawned, "this isn't healthy, Master. You need the sleep, and you don't need the drink. Plus, Doc's gonna be pissed about you stealing his 'secret' stash."

 

The Master coughed what could've been a laugh. She raised the bottle to her lips for a last swig, then reluctantly passed it over to the apprentice.

 

The younger woman took it and put it down on the table out of the Master's reach, suppressing another yawn as she did so. "Okay then, now let's get you off to bed. Come on."

 

"Kira," croaked the Master.

 

Surprised that she was able to understand her Master's words, the apprentice took a careful look at the other woman. "Yeah, boss?"

 

"You...you know wha' t'day is?"

 

"It's...sigh...Day One of a fourteen day jaunt to the dingiest colony worlds in the Outer Rim," Kira replied.

 

The other shook her head tiredly. "Silly...not that. Year ago t'day. Wha'...what happened?"

 

"Shee, Marade, I dunno. It's too early for history trivia games. C'mon, you can ask me in the morning."

 

"No," growled the Master forcefully. "Not later. 'S not the memory."

 

Kira swore under her breath and sat down at the table next to Marade. "Fine, okay. I give up. What happened a year ago today?"

 

The Anaxsi Master didn't say a word. Instead, she brought up her right hand and deposited what was in it onto the tabletop, where it rolled around for a few seconds before coming to rest against one of the discarded bottles. It took Kira a few seconds to recognize it, because she hadn't seen it in so long. But there it was: her Master's original lightsaber.

 

She frowned. But it's been way more than a year since she built that thing and made Jedi Knight.

 

Then, belatedly, it came to her. Marade had constructed the lightsaber, but somebody else had given her the parts and pieces to do it. And that person had been gone for...

 

"Master Orgus," she breathed. Something leaden settled in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sorry, Master."

 

Marade just nodded quietly, staring off into space at something impossibly far away.

 

"You know," Kira cajoled, "he wouldn't want you doing this."

 

Her Master laughed bitterly. "S'posed to be...second line. But you know me and...wha'ever the kark this stuff is. Alc'hol makes me mo...mor..."

 

"Morose," the apprentice supplied absently. From what she remembered - and her memory was known to play tricks on her at this time of night - it was a tradition among Anaxsi naval officers to have musical funerals. First sad, somber dirges would play, but then the body would be "cut loose", released from the duties and troubles of the mortal galaxy, and the music would become upbeat, with the mourners turning into revelers. At such funerals, the "first line" was the band itself, and the "second line" was the group of attendees that would celebrate the deceased's life.

 

Marade nodded. "That. Tha-t. Yeah." Her gaze drifted over to her old lightsaber. Then, softly, she said, "Why?"

 

"Why what?"

 

"Rescued him. From the Imps and the Killiks. Remember?"

 

"Of course," she said with a smile. "'If that thing eats us, you're fired.' My other Master never had one-liners as great as that."

 

Her Master smiled, too, but hers was a sickly, forced one. "Didn't stay rescued, though."

 

"Yeah, well..." Kira swallowed, but didn't manage to get the lump in her throat down. "He was doing what he thought was right. And if he hadn't planted that beacon, we'd never have stopped Darth Angral."

 

"Kept showing up. Helped me on Tat. And with the Emp'ror. Always there when I needed him the most."

 

"He was a great man."

 

Marade's face twisted into a grimace. "Not like me."

 

"What are you talking about?" grumbled Kira confusedly. "You're the kriffing Hero of Tython."

 

"Wasn't there on Angral's ship. Screwed up with the Emp'ror. Had to...had to drag me back." She looked at Kira through haunted eyes. "All those people on Uphrades..."

 

"Master, none of that was your fault. He wanted you to stay on Alderaan and destroy the Death Mark. We couldn't have gotten to Uphrades in time. And that stuff with the Emperor...well, we gave up, yeah, but that was then. Forget then. We got away. We fixed it."

 

"Not fixed enough."

 

"Yes, fixed enough," she said testily. "Come on, this is crazy. You know Master Orgus thought you were his best student. You're the most respected Jedi Master in the Order. You're, like, the ultimate warrior. You're as good as anybody gets. And you're never like this normally."

 

"Mebbe on the ou'side..." the Master trailed off.

 

Kira shook her head. "And the inside, too. You know that. It's the alcohol talking."

 

"'S the annivers'ry talkin'..." muttered Marade halfheartedly.

 

"Nope. You know better, boss. Let's go get you into bed." She stood up and lifted the other woman halfway up onto her shoulder for the trek back across the ship.

 

The Master smiled ruefully. "Whoever made you a Knight...knew wha' they were doing..."

 

Kira paused at the doorway. "That'd be you, Master. Well, the Council, partially, but mostly you."

 

"Huh...guess I did something righ'..."

 

The apprentice rolled her eyes and started over toward her Master's quarters. "You mynock."

 

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I got all prolific and finished up Sisterhood pt. 3 for Kinka. (Links to Part 1 & Part 2.)

Brief mention of spoilery Act II things for the agent story.

 

Kinka returned to her sister’s modest dwelling to find Vekkz and Kaliyo passing a bottle of something back and forth. From the looks of things, it hadn’t been the first they’d gone through that afternoon. So much for staying alert in case someone tried to come after them.

 

“Kaliyo, I need a minute with my sister.” The Rattataki gave Vekkz a look that said “ooh, you’re in trouble now,” and shuffled off to another room while Vekkz poured a drink.

 

“Glad you’re back, Kiki. Your friend’s a little scary.” Except Vekkz didn’t look too frightened. Kinka hadn’t been able to place her odd demeanor earlier, but she recognized it now. Smugness, practically radiating off of her. “You take care of my bully?”

 

Kinka took a seat across from her sister and folded her arms across her chest. “Vekkz, I need you to be honest with me,” she said quietly. “There’s some things about your situation that don’t make sense.”

 

“Like what? How Talos could have possibly been with a girl as plain as Jade?” She giggled at her own joke and took a big gulp from the tumbler.

 

“That girl had no idea what I was talking about, Vekkz, and I did some digging of my own.”

 

She seemed nonplussed. “Interested in archeology now, are we?”

 

“Sis, you’ve been accused of aiding the Republic. This is as serious as it gets. I can’t protect you from things like this. That speeder accident was just the first attempt. They’ll send someone after you next time. Someone like me. And whomever else they send won’t care whose daughter you are. They’ll kill you for helping the enemy, especially now that we’re at war. And after that, they’ll come after mother and me. You’ve got to tell me, why do they think you’ve turned traitor?”

 

Vekkz calmly crossed her legs, her face growing serious. “Because I have.”

 

“What?”

 

“And that speeder attack wasn’t the Empire,” she said quietly. “It was me.”

 

“Damn it, Vekkz, what’s the matter with you?!" Kinka’s blood boiled. "You were always the level-headed one. And now you’re here drinking in the middle of the afternoon and blowing up innocent people for the Republic? I don’t understand this. Why?”

 

Vekkz was unmoved by her sister’s outrage. “I hate the Empire, Kiki. It’s run by terrible, awful people who think they can do whatever they please simply because they can shoot lightning out of their asses, and I can’t stand being a part of it anymore. I mean think about it — Mom...if she’s the shining example of patience and morality, there’s no hope for anybody else. How can you bear to work for them after the things they did to you?”

 

“It’s better than the alternative. It’s a better jumping off point anyway. The Empire is far from perfect, I won’t fight you on that point. But our principles are—” She stopped mid-sentence, her mind finally catching up to what Vekkz was alluding to. “How do you know about the Castellan restraints? I-no one knows about that. Nobody except the people directly involved.” She rubbed her temples, not believing what was happening. “You’ve been talking to the SIS.”

 

Tick.

 

“A couple agents approached me about a year ago. They asked about you, too.”

 

Oh no. “Me? What exactly did they want to know? What did you tell them?” Her voice was growing strained, verging on a shout. “Vekkz, this is very important.”

 

“They wanted to know if you’d be willing to defect. Said it would make a good campaign, the two daughters of a Sith and an Imperial general defecting to the Republic. I told them you were in deep with Intelligence, though, and probably wouldn’t go for it, but they wanted me to ask you anyways.”

 

Tick.

 

“They knew I was coming here? Stars, Vekkz! They played you. The SIS isn’t interested in you, they want me.” She could hardly believe what she was saying, yet she knew it was completely true. “They’re using you to get to me,” she said quietly, despair seeping in.

 

Vekkz huffed. “That’s just typical, Kinka. You can’t stand the idea that I’d get to do something important for once. That I might be able to make a diff-”

 

Tick.

 

“Shhh!” A noise. The tiniest little thing. If she hadn’t already been on edge, she’d have missed it. “Do you hear that?”

 

Vekkz waved it off. “It’s nothing, Kiki. Look, I-”

 

Tick, tick.

 

“We need to get out of here. There’s no time for questions.” She jumped out of the chair and called toward the back of the dwelling. “Kaliyo get out now!”

 

“Kiki, don’t be silly. I’m not dressed and it’s freezing outside.”

 

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

 

“I’m telling you, Vekkz, this is a trap. Come o-”

 

Tick, tick tick, tick, tick.

 

Silence.

 

Kinka felt hot and cold all at once. Both burned, and she wasn’t sure how far the blast had thrown them or whether anyone else even made it out alive. Hell, she wasn’t entirely sure if she’d be alive for long. Everything was burning and numb. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. Vekkz turned traitor. The house blowing into a pile of smoking rubble. All of it an incomprehensible blur.

 

She couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see more than a smear of grays and blues. Someone touched her arm, rolled her over. It could be them. The SIS would love to get their hands on her, even try to apply the mind restraints again. They never wanted Vekkz. She was expendable. They wanted Cipher Nine, the famed agent with a trail of bodies in her wake. Who somehow slipped away one night and became a ghost. The woman with a million secrets. They’re trying to draw me out. This is only the beginning.

 

The face hovering over hers was too blurry to make out. It wasn’t Kaliyo’s; she could make out enough to tell that the face was missing her tattoos and had too much hair on top. But her hearing was starting to come back. The roaring in her ears quieted to a dull hum, and she could pick out a few words now and again.

 

“Just rest,” the voice squeaked. “We’ve got to get her in a kolto tank.” She recognized the nervous timbre of Talos Drellik. He’d made it out after all, and he was talking to someone — Kaliyo. Had to be. They were furthest from the blast, had the best chance of surviving. But where was Vekkz? Why wasn’t he helping her?

 

“Don’t try to speak, agent,” his soft voice cautioned. She hadn’t realized she’d been trying. “I’m going to sedate you now while we get help.”

 

Cool relief spread through Kinka’s body before she could try to say anything else, before she could tell them about the SIS. And the vision that was just starting to clear up went black once more.

 

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Oh my god, I swear I will get there eventually.

 

Yoshi - I have heard of Zeltrons and your post does everything to confirm my suspicions :p At least Jett has a sense of decorum.

 

Kabe - So many things that could have been and the ending options... they should have been the same.

 

Magdalane - The idea of HK taking 'care' of anyone who is ill, is somewhat worrying.

 

Lesberisa - Veresia seems to have a certain amount of naivety toward the Sith, I wonder if that is because Sith are expected to scheme, but (at least due in the class story lines) their maneuvers tend to be rather overt? Ah, food, I believe Amitia will soon find that it is, indeed, the path to the Dark Side.

 

Alaurin - Laying the class story intros out like that does show a little of how forced they seem. Bella's response on the soldiers is entirely understandable - hell, I think most people would wait for a break in the firing, rather than risking their own neck against some crazed freedom fighters with guns.

 

Kabe - T7-01's assistance is nothing short of remarkable, particularly with Mr. I-honestly-am-a-droid,-really. Brilliant.

 

Selentar - If it's one thing I love, it's interactions between Sith and Jedi which don't involve fighting :3

 

Striges - That was beautiful and terrifying. I read it in their voices.

 

Marissalf - What an intriguing mystery.

 

 

 

 

I am making a new post and starting from page 328 :rolleyes: asdfghjkl; You guys.

 

Yoshi - Aaran is likely going to have to do some rather serious reflection. Also, white? In those woods? - Methic demonstrates the problem of having differing alignments following the same paths and all having the same outcomes. Of course his actions would have been fairly easy to justify at the time, hindsight provides a different perspective.

 

Bright - Teeseven is a surprisingly astute droid and "General Pasty Imperial" (and not the rank of General, just a random dude :p) is the best reference ever. Also, d'aww, Wynston hopelessly loves Ruth in his own way <3 Anaz and Vette are adorable together, but Niner is the BEST.

 

Lesaberisa - Ah, the indoctrination of children towards violence and the Sith authority <3 Olympia is surely on the path to the Dark Side with those heinous acts. (Gosh you write a lot) The Legacy piece was rather interesting.

 

Irish - Haha :p

 

Adwynyth? - Destroying 2V and tormenting Quinn? I daresay you get the SWTOR Seal of Approval! No one like that droid.

 

Alaurin - It's so easy to forget about the on-board camera :rolleyes:

 

Marissalf - The plot thickens (in Part 2).

 

Euphrosyne - All of that happened in a year? No wonder Marade's in such a state, poor thing :(

 

Magdalane - Bless. Those two will be forever adorable together. It's sweet how (your) Corso so loves and respects Miriah.

Edited by Tatile
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Following Tatile's example, I'm starting with Anniversary story posts!

 

@marissalf-- Kinka and Vekz, great together! With the holonet ever present, it would be tough to be an agent with a widely known twin, even worse if they're on different sides of the war! Great story so far!

 

@Yoshi-- I've not played through much of the Empire side, but it seems a general thought that if Baras had been allowed to live, the Empire would be out of food before the end of the war, so imo you did them a big favor by killing him. Just sayin'

 

@lesaberisa-- Amita is correct. Chocolate is comparable to kolto for healing :D Ayrs seems like a typical soldier, missing home and being dedicated to finding closure. From the legacy story, I think he made it.

 

@eversteam-- you captured Corso perfectly, he will indeed wait as long as he has too, he's just wired that way.

 

@Euphrosyne-- wonderful insight into a mostly-overlooked aspect of the Jedi knight, well done!

 

 

Prompt: Anniversaries

Miriah and Corso (of course-- this might actually be integrated into my current novella, as it's in the timeline)

Much later than Ch 3, no spoilers

 

 

Five years ago my life changed forever, and every day since has been better than the one before. This was Corso’s thought as he blinked his eyes open, the grey light indicating that it was early yet. He squeezed his wife, who was draped across him, her head in the curve of his neck, her soft, warm breath feathering over his skin. Five years ago today, he’d finally had enough of wondering, enough of waiting for the perfect timing, the perfect setting. Five years ago, he’d finally asked her to marry him.

 

He gazed down at his hand, resting on her bare hip, seeing the contrast of her pale, perfect skin against his golden tone. She was so delicate looking, but he knew from long experience she was like transperisteel, flexible when needed but stronger than she looked by far. He pulled up the memory of that day.

 

They’d been on Corellia, doing a job for the SIS. They were both tired, dirty, and hungry when they’d made it back to the ship, and Risha and Bow had been arguing like children. Of course, as soon as they’d seen Miriah walk through the air lock they were in her face, wanting her to intervene like they were her children. It was the first time he’d seen her pull her blaster on the ship, but they got the message and backed off. It was that action that told Corso more than anything else how tired she was, because she’d never say so. He’d rushed through his shower and was already cooking when she made her way to the galley. After the blaster incident, no one would dare come near her, but she’d walked straight up to Corso and pulled his face to hers, kissing him long and hard. He’d wanted to propose to her then, but his senses were scrambled and he missed his chance when she’d asked when the food would be ready.

 

After he’d gotten her to eat, she’d relaxed, and they’d enjoyed a glass of wine together. She’d gotten up to refill their glasses, and when she’d turned back to the chair he’d gotten down on one knee, like he’d been taught long ago was the proper position, and taken her hand.

 

“I was waiting for the perfect time, or place, or way to do this, but I realized today that any time I’m with you is the perfect time. Miriah Julianne Chantalle, I love you more than life itself, and I’d be honored if you’d be my wife.” Her eyes had filled and she’d cupped his face with her hands.

 

“Are you sure? You know this life, this ship, everything that I do and have done, and you still want me?” Her voice was soft, incredulous. He’d reached in his pocket and pulled out the rings he’d had made on Carrick Station, intertwined bands of precious metals, hers impossibly small.

 

“I had these made a couple months ago, darlin’. I’ve been sure since the day I met you.” He’d kissed her then, feeling her tremble. He’d pulled back and just looked into her eyes, and he almost missed her whispered answer. When he’d realized she’d said yes, he let out a whoop. She’d married them right then and there, and every day since had been all he’d hoped for.

 

He was brought out of his reverie when she shifted against him, the friction of their skin sliding over each other sending pulses of electricity racing over his body, making him glad that their son, Devin, was staying with his aunt Maura, and their other son, Logan, was growing in his mother’s womb. He traced his fingers over her still flat belly, looking forward to the next few months. So rich, he thought, even if we lost every credit in the bank tomorrow, we’d still be wealthy beyond measure. He felt it when she began to wake, and saw the contentment on her face as she traced his chest with her hand.

 

“Morning, sugar. Happy Anniversary,” she told him, her smile pure sensuality and her voice husky with sleep. It’s going to be a great day, he thought, picturing the cushion cut rare deep purple amethyst he’d had set in a band to match her wedding ring. But tomorrow will be even better. He pulled her on top of him, and matched her grin.

 

 

Edited by Magdalane
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New to the forums here, but I happened upon this thread recently. Man, did it get my dormant writing hand itching to get something out! So, very rusty and rather rough-hewn, but hey, I wrote something? Also, some lines were shamelessly stolen from one of my favorite novels, Evidence of Things Unseen, which inspired this scene in the first place. Here goes nothing!

 

Prompt(s) - As Time Goes By, Climate

Title - Ebb and Flow

Class - Jedi Knight

*Some spoilers for Act 1 of the JK's story. Takes place shortly after, but before Act 2.

 

 

With no hidden super weapons posing a threat to galactic civilization, the Jedi Council had deemed the knight Ankyra and her small crew worthy of a break. It was a short respite, weary and tense; they could all sense it was only the beginning of something far more sinister. Darth Angral and his weapons were only a symptom.

 

They’d taken shore leave on Borleias, a barely inhabited planet on the edge of Core space consisting mostly of rainforests, beach, and nothing in between. Small and most of its habitat a dedicated preserve, its pristine shorelines were a far cry from the war torn and overcrowded planets she’d visited the past several months. It was far enough removed that she could forget for just a moment the burdens placed upon her and most of all, refocus.

 

Kira and she currently visited one of the beaches, while T7 remained on the ship performing maintenance. The sky was clear and cloudless, the water a near perfect reflection but for the gentle waves created by the sole moon’s weak gravitational pull. As she observedt, Ankyra realized she’d never seen an ocean like this, never taken the time to really see it. She’d encountered coastline briefly on Ord Mantell, but she was too caught up in the mission at the time to appreciate the surroundings.

 

She’d never experienced the relentless rhythm of the sea, which nothing on dry land or in space could approximate. She’d never seen the skittish water birds or heard the boom of waves cresting and breaking against the land. The shoreline, she realized, was somewhere that was never still – a place that shifted between two dimensions simultaneously. A place where you could stand or swim, or both, at the same time. Like the force, she thought with a slight smile, and opened herself to its flow.

 

Kicking off her boots, she felt the sun-warmed sand beneath her feet and curled her toes as it coursed and shifted beneath her. She watched in the distance as Kira propelled herself eagerly into a cresting wave, letting the water come to her while she stood on solid ground and stared at the horizon. Cool ocean water lapped at her feet, and she felt the strong suction drawing the loose grains of sand away from her.

 

She tried to imagine herself like that in the force, carried in between the ebb and flow, neither here or there, and both at once. She reflected on her teachings, and found she could not recall anything in them about maintaining a balance between the force’s dualistic sides. She idly wondered if there might be merit to that thought. Perhaps the archives might have something.

 

That line of thought drew her back to the events on Taris. Watcher One claimed she was less than loyal to the Jedi Order. She’d be a fool to deny what he said was true. Letting Bengal Morr go was a raw wound on her conscience. She wondered now if she made the right decision, if what he claimed would really help.

 

It seemed right at the time – they were on the precipice of war after all. She couldn’t afford to throw away a potentially useful resource. She wondered what her master might say if he saw her now, if he knew of her less than light choices. As a knight, she was to be a keeper of peace, but at what point did she become something more akin to a soldier? Where did one draw that line?

 

She was getting ahead of herself, getting entrapped in her thoughts and regrets. The resulting doubt was suffocating, a cloud that hung heavy over her mind, clogging and straining her connection to the cleansing force.

Ankyra let out a slow breath, hoping the force could guide her to clarity. Breathe, she ordered.

 

Inhale.

 

Let the light be a drawing salve, purging her of the festering darkness and leaving calm serenity in its place.

 

Exhale.

 

She sighed and shook her head. It was still there, not as strong, but the fact it was there at all worried her.

 

If she was not careful, this doubt would be her undoing.

 

 

 

Edited by Syncrosect
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Plane, Trains and Thrantamobiles.

 

Jaci and Randy*

 

 

 

The ship juddered and lurched. They needed to get higher, just a little more. In-atmosphere flight was hard enough, but in a war zone and having to avoid aggressive anti-aircraft fire, Jaci was at her limit. The controls almost ripped from her hands as a shell exploded not ten metres from the ship. She banked to the right and forced the nose up. That was a mistake. Another shell exploded behind the ship, changing the air and creating a pocket. They started to fall.

 

"Randy! Randy!" Desperately, Jaci tried to correct the ship. Push the nose down, move into the fall, control it. "Randy!" She could feel the ship turning over. The sky rushed past the windows, the stars rapidly melting into the last light of day. "Randy!"

 

"Buckle up, princess! This is getting bumpy." Randy had always thought of himself as charming and destined for greatness. Jaci had only brought him along because he said he knew Coruscant. And she needed another hand to fly the ship.

 

"Buckle the f*ck up?! F*ck it Randy, thrusters! Thrusters on the f*cking ship! Need thrusting!"

 

"Princess, we're falling." Randy might have been a few years her senior, but Jaci could never respect him. She could never stand people who sought to point out the obvious.

 

"F*cking really?! I thought Balmorra needed a hug! F*cking thrusters!"

 

There was a commotion behind her. Finally, Randy was listening. She heard him leave the seat and start to move across to the rear control panel. He was too late. Her body jarred from the impact, every bone and muscle screaming under her skin. Her teeth rattled and shook. The world went black. The noise... the noise engulfed her. It was as if the planet was tearing itself apart beneath them: the angry wrath of reality was reminding her of her place.

 

It was dark when Jaci finally opened her eyes. Her face was wet and hot. It was strangely quiet and still. She blinked as the world slowly began to appear around her. Wires hung down, trailing into her chair, brushing up against her. Little lights blinked and wavered all around. A cool breeze tickled her cheeks, like the memories of winter on a hot summer day.

 

Hot...

 

Jaci snapped awake. The console to her left was aflame. The viewing shield had broken on impact and glass now filled the cabin. Little shards cut her hands as she scrabbled against the restraints of her seat. Her face hurt and she began to realise that she could not see well. The floor had buckled and split, no doubt the lower cargo bay had been destroyed. Smoke filled the rear of the ship and beyond, she caught a glimpse of more fire. She had no choice. Out the window it was.

 

Her arms shook under the strain of her weight. Usually climbing over a three foot mound of metal and waste was easy, but every inch of her cried out in pain. She lost her footing once, twice and nearly fell back into the ship. Instead, she threw herself forward and bounced out of the window. She hit the stubbed nose with a thud and a yelp. She continued to roll and pulled a somehow-still-intact antenna down with her.

 

The impact had baked the dirt and rocks. She felt as if she had landed in a sauna. Everything was uncomfortable and too hot to touch. Jaci took a deep, shuddering breath. Her lungs still worked, even if her ribs protested each slight movement. She had no idea how many bones she had broken, but as long as she could still walk, she would. She staggered to her feet and the world reeled and lurched. She had to move, she had to leave the crash site. Her chrono was broken, but she knew it was only a matter of time until the Imperials came to investigate. It was a miracle they were not already here.

 

Dry grass was a hazard. The ship was on fire, the fields could catch at any moment. Jaci stumbled over the ridge of her crater. She left The Painted Lady behind and started in the direction she hoped would take her to the mountains. Randy was dead, The Painted Lady was gone, but hope remained.

 

Damn it, Randy, she was your ship. You should have looked after her.

 

She trudged into the darkness as clouds of thick, acrid smoke started to blot out the stars. No matter how long it took, Jaci assured herself, she would leave this hellhole of a planet. Just a little more time in the darkness before she would escape and be out among the stars.

 

 

 

*Yes, yes, I know, but it's the first name that popped into my head and it's some sort of bizarre American name and doesn't mean "sexually aroused (all the time)", apparently. Plus it's funny. Tee hee, his name is randy!

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